#girl the flags could not be redder

[asexualsunny]

"sorry If I tell you my boyfriend's name the narrative heavily implies he will kill you later on :(" this is like What

[vampiefemme]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞! ** 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: modern au; ellie moves to a big city to escape the past. she goes to her first lesbian bar, where she meets you.

cw: porn with…a whisper of plot; alcohol use, fingering (e!receiving), strap-on sex, bottom!ellie, slightly sub!ellie, she’s whiny here

Ellie’s never been to a lesbian bar.

It’s surreal - banners of colorful pride flags are strung across the room, some of which she can’t even identify. Distressed and faded posters are plastered on the stone walls, advertising drag shows and queer punk bands with names like The Cranky Dykes and T-Girl Social. Nearly every patron is tatted or pierced, and there’s more platform boots and fishnet clothing than Ellie’s ever seen in one place before. Before she’d moved to the city, Ellie had lit up with excitement at the thought of visiting a lesbian bar. But now, in her worn Harley Davidson tee and a pair of jeans with unintentional rips at the knees, she feels very much out of her depth. 

Steeling her nerves, she internally reminds herself that this is exactly why she’d moved in the first place - she needed new experiences. She needed unfamiliarity. What she’d left back in Texas was her normal, and she planned to build a new normal here. One that was the antithesis of everything she’d known before. 

The bar isn’t completely packed, but she does need to push past dancing, sweaty bodies, girls sucking on each other’s faces, and chatting cliques to get to the edge of the bar, where more clusters of people are calling out drink orders and thrusting wads of cash tips at the bartenders. By some miracle, an empty barstool presents itself after a drunken patron with a mohawk stumbles out of it, and Ellie swoops in to snatch it before someone else does. She sits there for a good few minutes, trying to capture a bartender’s attention, until someone shuffles up beside her and sticks a hand out to wave one over. And, of course, they notice immediately, heading over with a towel slung over their shoulder. Ellie sinks lower into her seat, cheeks burning.

“I’ll have a spicy marg,” the woman beside Ellie says, voice projecting loud enough to hear over the clamor of music and chatter. The bartender nods, then goes to step away, but the woman next to Ellie stops her, speaking with that attention-commanding voice.

“What are you having?” 

The bartender’s gaze shifts to Ellie, still hunched over and beet-red in the face. She flushes impossibly redder when she looks up at the woman who’d just ordered, realizing that the question had been directed at her. 

“Oh,” she blurts, posture straightening. She glances at the woman, anxiety flaring, then back at the bartender. “Um, an old fashioned. Please. Thanks.”

Just as quickly as they’d come, the bartender disappears again, off to pour precisely-measured shots and mix cocktails in shiny silver shakers. Ellie’s hands are in her lap, fiddling restlessly, when she finally forces herself to look up at the woman who’d practically had to order for her. 

You smile at her when she meets your gaze. Though she’s trying to be subtle about it, you can feel the way Ellie drinks in your every feature, eyes flickering over your face, then your body. It’s obvious that she likes what she sees, because she has a hard time looking you in the eye again. 

“Thanks,” she says. “I’ve been trying to order for a while.”

“So I saw,” you respond, but not unkindly. You take a moment to look her over, although you’d already done plenty of that before you’d even approached her - you had seen her from across the bar, looking forlorn, her leg bouncing beneath the edge of the bar as she tried (and failed) to order herself a drink. Her lack of confidence is what piqued your interest; it was hard to believe that someone that gorgeous wasn’t oozing arrogance and self-importance. She’s all lean muscles and shaggy hair, her forearm decorated with a sprawling fern tattoo. You could already imagine yourself running your hands through that hair, kissing the length of her sharp jawline, pulling those narrow hips up against your own. 

At a lesbian bar, a hot girl who couldn’t carry herself with confidence usually meant one of two things: she’s fresh out of a breakup, or she’d never been somewhere like this. You’re determined to find out which of the two applies to her.

“What’s your name? I haven’t seen you here before.” You angle your body to face Ellie, popping your hip out as subtly as you can. 

Ellie, determined to keep her eyes on your face and not the curve of your hip or the delicious sliver of cleavage peeking out of your square-neck top, peers up at you from behind her bangs. “Uh, yeah, I’ve never been. I just moved here. I’m Ellie - what’s your name?”

You tell her your name and she repeats it slowly, like she’s tasting every syllable. “Pretty.”

Your drinks arrive before you can fumble for a response. 

“Spicy marg, old fashioned,” the bartender lists as they slide your drinks over the smooth wood of the bar. Ellie murmurs her thanks and you nod at the bartender before they disappear, your hand curling around the glass. 

“Cheers?” You tip your drink towards Ellie. She clinks her own glass against yours and the two of you take your first sips, the bitterness of the alcohol burning its way down your throat. You feel it settle in your stomach, warm and satisfying. 

“So,” you begin, licking jalapeño and lime-tinged tequila from your lips. Ellie’s eyes follow the movement for a moment before she catches herself and looks away. “Where’d you move from?”

Ellie smiles shyly. You watch her index finger trace the rim of her glass. “Texas.”

“Oh?” One of your brows lifts. “And what made you want to move here, Texas?”

“For one, I’m gay.” 

“Thank you for stating the obvious.”

She lets out a little laugh, and the sound makes you want to grin - you take a sip of your margarita instead. 

“I just… Couldn’t be there anymore,” she elaborates. “It wasn’t right for me. I needed to start fresh.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, letting Ellie’s words sink in. Clearly, something severe enough had happened to make her want to shed her life in Texas like an old skin. And this lesbian bar, filled with every unique kind of queer this city had to offer, was part of this new version of Ellie - the version she’d chosen to build from the ground up. You’re struck by how brave Ellie must be for that. And yeah, maybe she’d struggled to order a drink for herself, but that didn’t take away from her bravery - not when she’d willfully chosen to uproot her life, a decision most people could never follow through with. 

“I’m impressed,” you say honestly. “And I hope the city gives you what you’re looking for.”

The corners of Ellie’s lips twitch, and that pretty blush fights its way onto her cheeks again. You’re about to say something when you hear the first notes of one of your favorite songs thumping through the speakers, a few other bargoers cheering to express their own excitement. 

“Dance with me,” you say to Ellie, reaching forward with your free hand to grab her forearm. She looks up at you like a deer in headlights.

“I can’t dance.”

“Doesn’t matter, just follow my lead. C’mon.”

“I don’t know if—”

“Didn’t you come here to try new things?” You curl your fingers around Ellie’s wrist, and she lets you pull her to her feet. You’ve made a good point, and she doesn’t argue again - just follows you to the dancefloor, where dozens of others are already moving to the beat of the music, hips rolling, heads nodding. The lights pulsate in the vibrant colors of the rainbow, the crowd painted shades of sunset orange, hot pink, deep indigo. You sip your drink and start to dance, turning to face Ellie; she’s gaping at you, unmoving. 

“Come here,” you say, having to shout over the music. Ellie steps closer to you as you move to the rhythm, hips swishing. You’re wearing a pair of flared pants that makes your ass look incredible, and after Ellie finally starts to dance along with you, you turn around to bring your backside closer to her. As if by instinct, Ellie’s arm loops around your waist - she presses her palm into the front of your pelvis, rolls her hips against your ass. You grin, wide and self-satisfied, as you lift your drink to your lips again - only to realize it’s almost gone. You make a mental note to head back to the bar after this song, but for now, you enjoy the last few drops of your margarita, revelling in the feeling of Ellie’s hand, strong on your hip, as she presses ever-closer into you from behind. 

Ellie’s in awe of you. 

The way you’d strolled up beside her at the bar, posture proud, buying Ellie a drink and flirting with her like it was easy, natural. The way you’d let your eyes wander over her figure, not shy at all about the lust in your gaze. The way you’d dragged her to the dancefloor and ground your ass back against her, smelling like lime and tequila and something headier, something distinctly you. 

Now, after two strong drinks and several songs-worth of dancing with you, Ellie’s so turned on she feels like a live wire, sparks erupting from her every nerve. 

On the dancefloor, Ellie had looped her arm around your hips, leaning in so close she could smell the liquor on your breath. You’d needed to fight down every urge to kiss her first - you weren’t even sure if she’d ever kissed another woman before, and you’d already done enough to pull her out of her shell for the night. But Ellie had leaned her forehead against yours, noses brushing, eyes fluttering shut… And your mouths had crashed together in the sort of kiss you’re going to have a very hard time forgetting.

After making out in the crowd like that for god knows how long, you’d invited Ellie back to your apartment. Which brings you to your current predicament: Ellie’s backed up against the front door, your hand under her shirt, fingers dancing over every inch of her deliciously solid abdomen. If Ellie’s inexperienced, she’s doing a fabulous job of pretending she isn’t. But you’re not sure just how innocent she is now, as she moans unabashedly into your mouth, your hand squeezing her tits over her sports bra. 

“Hey,” you breathe, pulling back from the heated kiss you’d been sharing. 

“Mm?” Ellie blinks at you, dazed. You want to ruin her. 

“Is this okay?” You peck at her lips, then her cheek. “We don’t have to… Do anything. Not if you don’t want to.” 

Ellie’s bangs are gorgeously tousled, and she looks at you like a kicked puppy - all round eyes and furrowed brows, worried you’re taking something from her. “But I… I want to.” 

“You sure?” 

Ellie nods. 

“Have you ever been with another woman before?” Your stomach twists at the directness of your own question, but you really want to know. Need to know. A bar hookup might not be the best way for her to pop her cherry - or, at least, her gay cherry. 

Then again, it’s not exactly unheard of in the community.

“Yeah. I have,” Ellie says, her hand reaching out to grab your hip. 

You find yourself wanting to pry, dig deeper for more information, but there’s no real reason for it. She’s not entirely new to this. She wants you. That’s all that really matters, right?

So you take her to your bedroom, let her undress you with shaky, calloused hands, kiss her slow and sweet while she unbuttons her jeans and kicks them aside. You help each other undress until you’re both naked, and then you’re stumbling into bed, your legs straddling Ellie’s hips as you kiss down her neck, stopping to suck pretty purple bruises into the sensitive skin. Ellie makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper, sending another white-hot jolt of arousal through you. Your cunt is spread over her pelvis, and you grind down against her like that, letting out a pleased sound of your own.

 “God, you’re so hot,” Ellie mutters, watching you roll your hips as you kiss down to her chest. She reaches for your tits, squeezes them in her palms. 

“Yeah?” You smile, sharp and wolfish, down at Ellie. She looks at you like she can’t believe this is happening - like she can’t believe you’re real. “Gonna let me fuck you, Ellie?”

She moans at the obscenity of the question, nodding quickly. “Yes, god, please fuck me.”

“Mm,” you hum, “need to get you ready first, baby.”

Ellie’s breathing is ragged, her hips lifting, seeking friction. You climb down her body until you’re settled between her legs, pulling her knees apart to give yourself access to her center. She’s fucking soaked - you bite your lip at the sight of her, clit swollen and puffy, labia shining with arousal. 

You start with one finger, dipping into the wetness pooled at her entrance and spreading it up to her clit, drawing sharp breaths and staggering moans from Ellie’s kiss-bitten lips. Every sound she makes has you yearning to hear more, more. You slide your middle finger into her clenching hole and groan when you feel her walls open up smoothly around the digit. She pulses around you, hot and slick. When you begin pumping your finger in and out of that tight heat, Ellie’s noises become even more drawn-out, even more frantic - you look up at her and find her eyes already on you, dark with lust, a desperate, pleading expression etched onto her face. 

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby,” you coo at her, revelling in the way her pussy tightens at your words. 

“I–nngh, fuck–I need…” She trails off, jaw clenching. 

You fake-pout at her, puff out your lower lip in faux sympathy. “What is it? What do you need?”

“Need more,” Ellie pants out.

“I can give you more, sweetheart,” you reassure her, “all you had to do was ask.”

So, you give her more. You slip another finger inside of her, press the heel of your hand against the sensitive nub of her clit; your fingers curl upwards in the warmth of her cunt, finding that spongy, sensitive spot that’ll make her see stars. She whines - actually fucking whines, high-pitched and desperate, as if to say yes, right there.

“Shit, oh my god…” Ellie’s hands are clutching the sheets, knuckles blanched. “‘M so close.”

You don’t let up, and it only takes a few more moments of your careful ministrations before Ellie’s falling apart, a mess of jolting hips, strangled gasps, and a rush of wetness. You watch her come undone, wishing you could committ the sight to memory. After, you lick your fingers clean.

While Ellie’s spent and recovering from the height of her orgasm, you shuffle to the side of the bed to reach for your nightstand. You roll open the drawer, rummage around, and return to Ellie’s side with a tiny bottle of lube and your strap, the harness made of powder pink fabric. The brunette sighs contentedly when you lean over to kiss her, swiping her sweat-damp bangs away from her forehead. 

“You taste so good, did you know that?” You press another kiss to the corner of Ellie’s lips, feeling the way they twitch into a smile. 

“I really doubt it,” Ellie says.

You scoff. “Don’t doubt my taste.”

“Mm, okay. Fine. I believe you.”

Fighting your own smile, you move back to sit on your heels, cheeks heating when you notice Ellie’s eyes roaming over your naked body. 

“Need something?” 

Ellie nods, then sits up and pulls you in for another kiss, her hand on the back of your neck. “I want you to really fuck me now.” 

“Oh yeah?” You grin at her, your hands making their way to her tits and smoothing over her pebbled nipples. “Think you should learn some manners, Ellie. How about please?”

Her expression goes soft - eyes rounding, mouth pursing. 

“Please,” she says, and her voice is so sweet, it might rot your teeth. “Please fuck me.”

And who are you to deny her what she needs?

As it turns out, Ellie’s pussy was made to take strap. She’s leaned over, face down in one of your pillows, her ass propped up perfectly to give you access to her cunt. Still soaked from her last orgasm, she hardly needs any lube, the strap pushing into her all the way to the hilt without any resistance; she keens when you’re fully seated inside of her, a sound that makes your own pussy throb with need. Every noise she makes is pure heaven - you wish you could record them all, listen to them when you’re in bed at night with your hand between your thighs. 

“Fuuuuck,” Ellie cries out when you hit that sweet spot with the tip of the strap, her head shifting to lean on one side, allowing you to see the look on her face - the roll of her eyes, the way her lips part to let out each of her gasps and moans. 

“How’s that feel, princess?” You ask as you pound into her from behind; you admire the way her back arches deeper, like she’s encouraging you to fuck into her further and further. 

“S-so good,” Ellie stutters weakly. 

“Yeah? Doing so good for me, baby,” you pant. Every slam of your hips against Ellie’s ass makes her grunt, a pleased little sound, short and needy. 

That tiny grunt turns into an impatient whine when you pull out of her entirely, a lewd, wet noise accompanying the motion. 

“Why’d you stop?” Ellie asks, voice small. She cranes her neck to look back at you and the expression on her face is absolutely pathetic.

You give her ass a playful smack, admiring the way it recoils from the contact of your palm. “Want you to flip over. I need to see you come again, you looked so pretty the first time.” 

She does as instructed - she’s already so good at following directions, you’ve learned. When Ellie’s on her back, her face, neck, and chest tinged red with equal parts arousal and exertion, you lean in and whisper praises to her, lining the strap up to her entrance and pushing into her again. 

“Hold your legs up, sweetheart,” you instruct, pushing her thighs up until they’re folded against her body. She nods, panting, and lifts her hands up to hold her legs in place. You slip deeper into her like this; Ellie goes cross-eyed, lips pursed into a pretty “o” shape as you fuck her senseless. It doesn’t take much longer for her to get close again, and when her legs begin to shake with the effort of holding them up for you, you tell her to relax.

“Play with your clit, hm? I want you to come.” 

Ellie nods. “Y-yeah, I can do that. For you.”

“Just for me?” You grin.

“Mm, just for you.”

Her hand shakes as she brings it between her legs, drawing sloppy circles over her clit with her fingers. You keep fucking her, hips snapping restlessly, every lewd squelch of her cunt making you gush wetter and wetter. But as desperate as you are to come, you’re more focused on Ellie - the way she bites her lip, her entire body tense with her impending orgasm. She warns you before she finally tips over the edge: an endless chant of right there, I’m gonna come, you’re gonna make me come, oh my god…

You’re not sure how long you lie there on top of Ellie, still buried inside her, before her breathing finally rights itself again. You spend that time kissing all over her face and running your hands through her auburn hair, untangling a few knotted locks in the process. You’re both covered in a thin layer of sweat, bodies glistening, but neither of you seems to mind. Content to lie there together, you rest until Ellie pulls you in for a kiss - one that turns needy and sloppy not long after. 

“Can I taste you?” Ellie asks between kisses, her lips shiny with saliva. She says it with such hope, like she’s not sure what you’ll say. But you’re still drenched between your legs, inner thighs sticky with it. 

“There’s nothing I want more right now,” you confess. 

So Ellie finds a place between your legs, mouth latching to your clit like it’s muscle memory. You curl a fist into her hair and guide her every move, murmuring instructions, which she follows like the good girl she is. The night continues that way - all whispered pleas and tremoring orgasms, tangled limbs and slick-coated fingers, until the two of you finally doze off, wrapped in each other’s warmth.

And Ellie thinks she’s made a good decision, moving here. Trying something new.

[delulujuls]

saudade | as12

funny how you can miss someone you never met, right? my heart was aching today a lot and i cried even more while writing this so yes, it is long and it is sad, so you decide if you wanna read this or not. if you do, please enjoy if its even possible to enjoy bawling your eyes out lol

oh ayrton, you will always be missed

summary: during senna's funeral y/n has flashes of their shared past and what they could have together

warnings: for sure its intense, 5.6k words of pure sadness, thats it basically

pairing: fem!mclaren!driver x ayrton senna

It was a warm, pleasant day. The beginning of may didn't disappoint with the weather at all. A light, warm breeze swayed the flexible branches, on which fresh leaves were green. The sun was pleasantly warm, but it wasn't unbearable heat. Birdsong could be heard, but so could crying. On this day, mourners outnumbered the blossoming buds on the trees.

A crowd of people had gathered in front of the church, but it was nothing compared to the crowds still on their way. Everyone was dressed in black, and the only point of color in the black mass was a yellow dot, which from a bird's eye view resembled a sunflower petal, thrown onto the black, fertile soil. It was a helmet, a yellow racing helmet, which no one gathered there needed to be introduced to. In trembling hands, a young girl held it, never once moving it away from her chest. She held it against herself so tightly, as if she wanted to feel the warmth emanating from it, but it radiated coldness, like the inside of the church she was about to enter, barely able to keep herself on her feet.

Inside the chapel, it hadn't yet become crowded; the military made sure that the family and friends entered the church first. Inside, there was a grave silence, broken only by the occasional blowing of noses into tissues or a stifled sob.

The girl was aware of what was happening, she knew where she was and why she was there. However, her brain stubbornly avoided connecting the dots and completely pushed the facts out of her consciousness. If it had, she would probably have thrown the held helmet deep into the church, and it would have stopped only when it hit the wooden, solid coffin. The girl's gaze never once lifted towards her.

"Y/N, can you hear me?," the girl flinched when Ron's words reached her for the umpteenth time, "You know you don't have to be here, we can be outside."

The girl blinked several times, and at that very moment, her brain stopped pushing away the facts. Ron held her arm, his eyes swollen, his face even redder than usual. She herself pressed the helmet to her chest, so tightly that only when she moved it away from herself a little was she able to fully breathe. She raised her eyes and looked around. She stood in the front row of benches, where at the very top, just in front of the altar steps, stood the coffin. A large, carefully ironed Brazilian flag lay on it, its freely hanging ends touching the fresh flowers lying beneath it.

"Y/N…," the man began again, this time quieter. He saw tears in the girl's eyes, and he was about to continue, but she pressed the helmet tighter to her chest and started walking forward. She only moved the helmet away from herself when she placed it on the coffin. Y/N fell to her knees and began to sob, pressing her forehead against the hard lid. However, the lid of the coffin wasn't the only thing that separated her from her friend. The worst was death.

It was a brisk february morning. Silverstone Circuit had not yet woken up, there was no deafening roar of engines in the background, and the smell of burnt rubber didn't hang in the air.

Although it wasn't a race day and only a handful of people were milling around the facility, unlike the tens of thousands who usually flooded in for the weekend races, this day was expected to be exciting and full of emotions too.

Certainly, it was so for the 23-year-old Theodore Racing driver, who, sitting in the passenger seat on her way to the circuit, nervously picked at her nails. However, she should now be referred to as the "former Theodore Racing driver" because on this day, she had a test day at McLaren, with whom she signed a contract two weeks ago. In the past two months, the girl's life had changed dramatically. A few days after her birthday, she became the European Formula 3 World Champion, winning the title by just one point. One! The fact that she was so young and the only woman to rise so high meant that many people had their eyes on her and followed her every move. However, most people who hadn't seen her driving at over 200 kilometers per hour thought that being a woman automatically disqualified her from the sport. Ron Dennis, the head of McLaren, was familiar with her skills, though, and seeing how well she performed in the lower levels, he decided to take a risk and give her a chance. One of his proteges, however, wasn't so sure about this decision.

"Girl? You want to replace Prost with a girl?"

Senna, upon hearing the candidate to replace Alain, who, after five years of dealing with him, decided to quit and move away from McLaren, only shook his head.

"Yes, that's exactly what I plan to do," Ron lit a cigarette and shifted his gaze from the car to the disgusted face of the Brazilian, "Maybe she'll calm you down a bit. It's a miracle I found anyone to take Prost's place, no one wants to work with you!"

Ayrton snorted and shook his head again, unable to believe that his boss wanted to do something so idiotic. Silence fell in the garage, none of the mechanics intended to interrupt their conversation. Just like everyone else in the team agreed with Ron that it was a miracle to find anyone willing to take Prost's place, the same majority couldn't imagine a woman starting to race in Formula 1. Especially alongside a driver like Senna.

"A few races, and she'll quit on her own," the Brazilian muttered, "You'll see."

"Pray that she likes you and wants to race for us."

When the car stopped in the gravel parking lot, the girl got out and put on her sunglasses. Tom, her manager and a close friend of her father, just glanced at her and rubbed her back. He knew perfectly well how stressed she was. No one would be prepared for so much in such a short time.

"Everything will be fine."

"You don't have to say that."

He sighed and just pointed with his hand towards the entrance to the facility, letting her through the glass doors. He didn't convince himself too much. Shortly after, after receiving the appropriate instructions, they reached the paddock. Here, the sun didn't glare in her eyes, so the girl took off her glasses, looking around. An empty Silverstone was something unheard of.

"Good morning, welcome, good to see you,"

Ron, standing in front of the garage, as soon as he noticed the girl, broke off from the conversation with one of the mechanics and smiled at her, shaking her hand. She showed up for the tests, so he thought she deserved a shot. Maybe this would work.

The girl made an effort to smile and nodded at him. Fortunately, she didn't have to engage in a conversation with him because he was immediately engaged by her manager. She was glad that in moments like this, someone else could spare her from meaningless chatter.

"Good morning."

She greeted, approaching the car where a few men were working on the wheels, wing, and cockpit. Some of them spoke up, while the rest just nodded at her. She immediately felt unwelcome, and barely a minute had passed since she appeared in the garage. However, this was nothing new to her, she would lie if she said she was surprised. But the most important thing for her was that Ron treated her as an equal, or at least didn't make her feel like she didn't belong here. That gave her a sense of comfort. She didn't need a crowd standing behind her; she only needed two people who had her back.

The girl slowly walked around the car. The new, ready-for-the-season MP4/4 looked very good. Next to the car marked with her number stood another, practically identical, differing only in the number painted in red on the front.

However, the owner of the car was nowhere to be seen, at least not in sight. Y/N hadn't had the opportunity to meet Ayrton personally. The drivers' presentation with the car was scheduled for the end of the month, so it was quite likely that until then, she would have time to mentally prepare herself. She knew Ayrton from stories; she could watch his battles both on and off the track on television, the domestic war he waged with Alain Prost which ended with the Frenchman's departure to Ferrari.

Y/N knew she would have to face many things, one of which was Senna.

"Ready?"

Ron's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, he held a helmet and jumpsuit for her in his hand. She nodded and took the items from him, going to change. When she returned, she took her place in the cockpit, and after some time, when everything was ready, she followed the instructions and took her place on the track. She took a deep breath and clenched her hands on the steering wheel, staring at the start lights. When they went out, the girl sped off with squealing tires and the roar of the engine.

Ron and Tom stood next to each other, watching her movements on small monitors. After some time, the mechanics also began to glance at the monitors, seemingly more interested in whether she hadn't crashed yet than in her results. What surprised them was the sight on one of the displays showing her current lap time, which now stood at 1.38.412 seconds. Ron smiled and shook his head in amazement. The young girl was incredible.

The car itself wasn't handling badly. Besides feeling like a huge boat, to which she was definitely too small, it was actually a well-engineered machine. A few more laps, and she should be able to tame it completely. Although this fact was reassuring. When the girl spotted the checkered flag, she obediently pulled into the garage. She turned off the engine and unfastened her seatbelts, but she didn't get out of the car or take off her helmet because Ron was already beside her, hugging her tightly.

"Young lady, you flew in that car!" The man helped her out of the car, and she took off her helmet and balaclava, taking out the earplugs. "I told you, you did amazingly. Unbelievable lap time, great driving."

The girl wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and blew a strand of wet hair from her forehead.

"It's a really good car, sir."

"A good car without a good driver is just a good car, and a good car with a great driver is a masterful car," Ron shook her hand again, "Brilliant job."

The girl returned his smile, and when she glanced at Tom standing a few steps away, he was also smiling, his smile was the kind of "I told you so."

Y/N gave appropriate feedback to the mechanics and strategists, who now seemed to pay attention to her significantly more than when she first appeared in the garage that morning. Their faces still tried to remain impassive, but nevertheless, they noted everything she had to say. When it was all over, the girl went to change. She washed her face with cold water and looked at herself in the mirror, clenching her hands on the cold sink. She did it.

When she managed to cool down and calm herself down a bit, clutching her helmet under her arm and holding her jumpsuit in the other hand, shortly after she left the bathroom. Suddenly, she bumped into someone, and that someone turned out to be someone she sincerely didn't want to meet that day.

"Watch where you're going."

Senna muttered, holding a lit cigarette between his lips. He gave her a quick glance and disappeared through the doorway, his jumpsuit rustling as he walked away.

The girl squeezed her helmet tighter under her arm and returned to the garage, putting things back in place. After receiving the last praise and handshake from Ron, she said goodbye and left the paddock with Tom. Ayrton pretended to be too busy preparing for the start, so he didn't honor her with even a single glance. When he heard Ron praising her driving, he only snorted under his breath and shook his head. When the garage fell silent again, Ayrton took his place in the car, getting ready to drive.

"1.38.412"

Senna looked up when Ron spoke above his head.

"1.38.412," he repeated calmly, "The lap time of a twenty-three-year-old after her first drive in a Formula 1 car."

The Brazilian snorted and lowered his gaze, putting earplugs in his ears.

"I hope you'll be better than the girl."

Ayrton didn't hear his words anymore because he put on his balaclava and helmet. He didn't believe the girl had achieved such a lap time. And even if she did, it only spoke of the car's capabilities, not her skills. Senna hoped he would be faster by at least a few seconds. He had been racing in Formula 1 for almost five years; he was incredibly fast, and above all, he was a man!

When the tests ended, and he returned to the garage, satisfied with himself and his driving, the first thing he did was to look for Ron's reaction, wanting to see his expression when he rubbed his nose in it. However, the Brit looked at him indulgently, and Senna, not knowing what he meant, quickly tried to free himself from the seat belts. The Brit simply turned the monitor towards him and pointed with his finger at something that, according to Ayrton, was a big mistake.

Between him and the girl, there was a difference of a few seconds, indeed. But Ayrton was slower.

When Senna freed himself from the car, hastily took off his helmet and balaclava, and removed the earplugs, he was about to say something when Ron stopped him, pressing a cassette to his chest.

"Here, watch it tonight and see how the twenty-three-year-old beat you."

Ayrton squeezed the cassette in his hand and only watched him leave, unable to utter a word. It was some kind of absurdity!

Absurd or not, Senna spent the evening in front of the TV. He sat on the couch, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He frowned and carefully watched the recording from the camera placed in her cockpit. He saw how she aggressively entered corners, braking as late as possible, and how quickly she stepped on the gas when the centrifugal forces stopped working. He took a drag and blew smoke from his mouth, rewinding the tape from the beginning, just as it ended. The recording lasted twenty minutes, and he watched it for the seventh time, counting each lap on his stopwatch. Every time, the result was the same.

He couldn't wrap his head around what she had done, but he decided to consider it just a stroke of luck. She had a better day; he had a slightly worse one. Moreover, it wasn't the testing session or even the qualifying rounds that determined the winner, but the race itself. Driving on an empty track without rivals wanting to take your position was one thing, but racing in a competition where everyone wanted to beat you was a completely different matter. If someone had told Ayrton then that four years later, that girl would shed tears at his funeral, he would have told them to fuck themselves.

Y/N felt a strong arm around her waist, trying to lift her. Ron's heart broke seeing her in such a state. However, he couldn't help her even if he wanted to.

"Y/N, please…," he began, but she shook her head, overcome with tears. Wet stains of tears were visible on the flag covering the coffin. The girl was trembling all over, it was a miracle she could breathe. Since the accident, it seemed like Y/N was handling the tragedy very well, just being sad and quiet. No one had any idea what was yet to come. Everyone who saw Y/N by the coffin, this sight of a broken girl, felt nothing but sympathy. The bond she had formed with Ayrton seemed stronger and much richer in emotions than any he had with any of his partners. Ayrton wasn't just her teammate, he wasn't just a friend or sometimes her biggest enemy. From the very beginning, Y/N mattered to him, and if he said otherwise, he was simply lying.

The official skills assessment test for the girl was scheduled to take place less than three weeks after her first visit to the McLaren garage. Now, however, an official presentation awaited her at the reception hosted by the team. One evening at the company headquarters, a banquet was held, attended by far more people than initially anticipated. Most of them were journalists who had to announce to the world the phenomenon that was a woman at the top level of motor racing.

"It's more crowded here than I thought," the girl admitted when she entered the team headquarters with Tom by her side.

"Everyone is curious about you. There are even a couple of journalists from Australia, believe it or not," Tom said.

She looked at him in shock. "And they flew here specifically for this presentation?"

He smiled and nodded. "They'll be talking to kangaroos and kiwi birds about you," he joked, trying to lighten the mood. And it worked because she giggled at his words. However, her smile faded when she noticed Ron talking to Ayrton and two other men in suits.

"Everything will be fine. You did well on the tests, so you'll do well here too," he said softly, rubbing her arm when he noticed her expression.

"There weren't any sharks in suits and piranhas with cameras there," Tom was about to add some words of encouragement when Ron spotted them and raised his hand with a glass in it, trying to get their attention. They approached him, and he greeted them, introducing them to the directors. Ayrton, standing aside, was mindful of how many people were now watching him and wondering if his new teammate would share Prost's fate. However, the Brazilian had no intention of making an effort for gestures he didn't intend. Nevertheless, courtesy demanded it, so he extended his hand, which she hesitantly shook.

"Senna," he said, his Brazilian accent strongly evident in his last name. "Welcome to the team."

The girl introduced herself as well, but it was hard for her to maintain eye contact. Not because he was almost half a head taller, but because of the confidence emanating from him. It was his team, his place, and his time, and she was just a guest. There was no room for discussion.

Fortunately, the awkward situation was soon interrupted as the drivers and management were invited onstage. Ayrton gestured for the girl to go ahead, and she began to walk in front of him.

"I hope you don't grip the wheel as weakly as you do hands," he murmured behind her, quietly enough so no one else would hear, but loud enough for her to hear his words.

Y/N lowered her gaze, feeling a wave of heat wash over her. Even if she wanted to respond, she couldn't. He caught her completely off guard.

As they stepped onto the small stage, they stood behind one of the cars prepared for this season. The girl intertwined her fingers behind her back and straightened up, standing next to Ayrton. He might play his stupid games on her, but she had no intention of showing that she would easily give in. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and almost believed that his comment had gone unnoticed, but her cheeks were flushed. Normally, he would probably snort under his breath, but now he kept his composure.

After a few words from Ron and the board members, the floor was given to the drivers. The two of them remained on stage, each with a microphone in hand. Now it was time for the media, for their pressing questions and burning issues.

Ayrton sat relaxed, almost bored. His legs were bent at the knees, slightly apart. One hand was around his waist, resting his elbow on it, holding the microphone in the other hand. He answered questions briefly and to the point, not dwelling more than necessary. His attire alone indicated that today's banquet was just a formality; he wore a suit, but instead of a shirt, he had a white T-shirt, and on his feet were sports shoes.

Despite her best efforts not to stress out, Y/N was far from as calm as Ayrton. She sat up straight, one leg crossed over the other. Although her red dress practically touched the floor, she glanced occasionally to make sure nothing was out of place. She felt like every move, even the smallest one, was being watched and analyzed. She felt she wasn't focusing on the content of the questions but on how she appeared.

The girl blinked several times, trying to find a sensible answer to the question that had been directed at her a few seconds ago.

"Could you repeat that?" she asked, feeling a bit embarrassed about her inattention. Ayrton, however, heard the question well.

"I asked if you think you're good enough to compete with men or if you're just here for publicity? Racing is still a male-dominated sport, and it seems like you're just trying to prove something rather than compete," the man in glasses squeezed the voice recorder in his hand and looked at her expectantly. Seeing her confusion, he sighed, "I see you're not too bright, so let me ask directly - do you really think you belong here? Do you have what it takes to keep up with the boys on the track?"

The girl panicked a little; this question completely threw her off guard. Emotions overwhelmed her, and she couldn't utter a word. But there was someone who could speak and had an exceptionally sharp tongue.

"I see that, Mr. - again, for whom are you writing?" Ayrton spoke up, furrowing his brows.

"John Ruffleck, Guardian."

"Ah, of course, the Guardian," the man clicked his tongue indulgently. "Clearly, you are the one that didn't shine with intelligence, asking last year's Formula 3 world champion if she fits in here." Y/N was shocked to hear that Ayrton stood up for her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Despite still sitting calmly, the Brazilian was ready for a verbal battle. "If I fit in here, then the 23-year-old who set a better lap time than me during the tests also fits."

Ayrton bluntly silenced the journalist, who merely muttered a quiet "Thank you" and lowered his head.

Several more questions were thrown in by Ayrton, steering the conversation away from sexist undertones. By the end of the conference, there were no more questions about sexist issues. The drivers got up from their seats, and Y/N turned off her microphone, placing it on the sound table as Senna did the same.

"Thank you," she said, looking at him. He also looked at her, but this time his expression didn't express annoyance or boredom, as it did two times before when their eyes met.

"Don't thank me," he said, taking two glasses of champagne from the waitress. "You are allow to drink, right?" he asked before handing her one of them. She nodded and took the glass from him. "Don't thank me, just learn to counter such nonsense. If they're rude, we can be rude too."

Y/N took a big sip of champagne. Her mouth was dry from nerves.

"I don't want to be rude, it's not proper," she said.

"Not proper?" Senna scoffed. "Because you're a girl?"

"Because they'll think poorly of me"

"Do you really care what that bunch of idiots thinks?"

The girl lowered her gaze. Ayrton was right.

Did she really care? She was a driver; she was supposed to deliver good results. She wasn't supposed to please the audience.

She was about to reply when Ron approached them, cursing the Guardian journalist's stupidity. He was so caught up that he didn't even notice Ayrton sending the girl a final glance and then finishing his champagne, taking out cigarettes from his back pocket, and walking away towards the exit. Y/N only watched him go. At that moment, neither of them had any idea how much she would learn from Ayrton, or that he would gladly take on the role of a teacher himself. No one would have even thought of it then.

When Ron managed to lift the shaken girl, she reached for her helmet again and pressed it to her chest. When she looked up, across from her, on the other side of the coffin, she saw a man in a wheelchair. Frank Williams looked at her in silence, but his gaze was apologetic, his face sad, and his eyes looked like he hadn't slept for days.

"Why?" Y/N whispered, but she wasn't sure if anything managed to leave her lips. Williams didn't need to hear her; her eyes said it all. Even if he couldn't hear her question or look into her swollen, tear-filled eyes, he would know perfectly well that she blamed him for his death. "Why, Frank? Why?" Maybe even more than she blamed God.

"If you can hold on to me for longer than five seconds, I'll let you pass," Ayrton said, exhaling smoke. He sat on one of the crates outside McLaren's garage, wearing sunglasses. The weather for the upcoming race looked exceptionally good, but Senna wouldn't mind rain.

"Are you challenging me?" the girl asked, squinting and looking at him against the light. They were sitting outside, where it was quieter, as the mechanics worked inside the garage.

"Why would I?" the man chuckled, taking another drag. Seeing her uncertainty, he offered her a cigarette, trying to reassure her with his gesture.

Y/N took the cigarette and inhaled the smoke, which tickled her throat, making her cough. She wrinkled her nose and after a moment handed him back the cigarette.

"Don't you want to test my braking skills and eliminate me from the race?"

Ayrton laughed and shook his head. "So, I do have a bad reputation after all."

"Definitely not the best," the girl said softly, smiling uncertainly. Ayrton playfully nudged the crate she was sitting on with his foot. He genuinely liked this girl; in fact, he could and wanted to work with her. Now he was even willing to let her win the race if she showed that she could keep up with him. She had demonstrated many times that she could drive at an exceptionally high level, so Senna was willing to show some humanity and let her achieve her first victory, especially on home turf. He stubbed out the cigarette and stood up, taking off his cap and placing it on her head, pulling it down over her eyes.

"Five seconds," he repeated, walking away as she adjusted the cap on her head.

The girl decided to take up the challenge, realizing that such an opportunity might never come again. Ayrton and collaboration? They were complete opposites after all. Y/N, who started the next day from the last place on the podium, managed to fight her way up to second place at the beginning of the race. She spent the next forty laps chasing after Ayrton, wondering if there was any point in chasing him if she couldn't overtake him. Seeing his familiar helmet in the side mirror, Ayrton smiled. He added a bit more throttle and began counting to five, but the girl's car didn't seem to be falling back. When the agreed time was up, much to everyone's disbelief, both on the track and in front of the TVs, Senna slowed down and obediently let her pass. Unable to believe her own eyes, the girl pressed the gas and took the lead, crossing the finish line with him.

She only believed in her victory when Ayrton offered her his hand and helped her onto the podium.

"Five seconds," he said, smiling at her.

"Five seconds," she replied, returning the smile.

How much she would give to see Ayrton again, even for five seconds. To be able to hug him for five seconds, see his smile. Five seconds now would last like an eternity, for which she would pay any price.

The church was filled with people, mostly family and friends, individuals directly connected to Ayrton. The remaining people were outside, surrounding the church, also gathering along the main road. There were talks of crowds, thousands who came to bid farewell to their hero. They too would give much to see Ayrton even for five seconds. Whole, alive, before the Imola accident.

Y/N held the helmet on her knees, looking at it with vacant eyes. She ran her fingers along the edges, tracing the stickers and sponsor names. She squeezed the soft padding inside. She closed her eyelids. Five seconds.

"Necessity is the mother of invention," Ayrton said, loud enough to make the girl jump. She was barefoot, wearing shorts and a bikini top, with his helmet on her head, visor down. She waved a piece of cardboard towards the grill, trying to ignite it better and not wanting the smoke to get in her eyes, deciding to use whatever she had at hand. And hoping Ayrton wouldn't get mad that she used his helmet for this.

The man smiled and shook his head, placing the wood he held in his hands next to the grill. Standing next to the girl, he lifted the visor and looked into her eyes. She looked at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"It suits you," Senna interrupted, smiling. "Possibly even more than me."

"Do you think so?"

The man nodded. His hair, damp from swimming in the lake, fell onto his forehead, and his brown eyes sparkled. Ayrton had been looking at Y/N like this for some time, in a way that many would describe as tender. Certainly, the girl wasn't just a teammate to him, as who would invite a teammate to their hometown to meet their closest family. Certainly not Ayrton.

"I love you, Y/N,"

He confessed as he lay on the jetty, gazing at the starry sky, where there was no trace of the hot Brazilian sun anymore.

The girl laughed and took a sip of beer, lying next to him and leaning on his arm. Both were drunk, so she was sure Ayrton was joking. However, when his confession was met with silence and he turned to look at her, his face was deadly serious.

"I mean it, Y/N. I love you,"

"You can't love me, you have a girlfriend," she replied, still laughing. There was no way he was serious.

Ayrton got up and without a word, kissed her, wanting to prove his words. When he pulled away after a moment, there was no smile on the girl's face. He was about to say something again, but she touched his cheek and returned the kiss, and he pulled her closer, holding her tightly in his arms. That night, they would find out how much they meant to each other.

Senna meant a lot to the girl, there was no doubt about it. He also meant unimaginable things to all those who took part in the funeral ceremonies, not only in Brazil itself but worldwide. It might have seemed like the world had lost an incredible man, someone who in life had already become a legend. Who would have thought that this living, almost mystical legend was just a man? A man who is mortal. Surely no one looked at Senna that way. Certainly not Frank Williams, who eventually decided to agree and accept Ayrton into his team, bearing an incredible burden now. Senna was supposed to lift his team to great heights, and his tragic death dealt a blow, not so much personal as it was business-related. However, at that moment, that mattered least.

Y/N and Ayrton sat at the kitchen table, eating a late dinner in silence. They were in their shared home in Europe, but for the past few months, the walls of the house seemed to be becoming more alien with each passing day. The atmosphere was as thick as it is now, when none of the people sitting at the table even bothered to steal a glance.

"Why didn't you tell me you wanted to go to Williams?"

The girl asked, stirring the contents of her plate with her fork. Ayrton tightened his grip on the glass and took a few sips from it.

"Ayrton-", "Why did I have to tell you?" he entered her words and looked at her, "Just to make you try to stop me?

Y/N blinked several times. She was shocked. She had the impression that the man sitting opposite was a complete stranger and someone she had never known before.

"To stop you? I'm your girlfriend, I should be the first to know about your plans, not hear from strangers."

"Did it change anything? Did something happen that you didn't find out from me?"

"Yes!" she shouted, slamming her hand on the table. She was so done with all of this. "I'm fed up with you treating me like an enemy for several weeks!"

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me!" he stood up, leaning over and pointing his finger at her. "You have no idea how much I had to do to get that offer, how much it cost me!"

"I have no idea, because you don't tell me anything!" she also stood up, pushing his hand away, which he was aiming at her face, "Fame has gone to your head, you're acting like a complete idi-" She didn't get to finish because Ayrton slapped her across the face. He didn't realize when his open hand met her cheek. Y/N grabbed her cheek and looked at him in shock. At the moment of the strike, he also seemed to snap out of it, as if he had been hit himself.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," he said calmly, trying to approach her, but she backed away a few steps, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

"But you did," she said with a trembling voice, tears welling up in her eyes, "I don't recognize you anymore, Ayrton".

As the funeral rites began, the last thing on Y/N's mind was their recent arguments, of which there had been plenty lately. Nonetheless, since the incident when he raised his hand to her, Senna understood he had crossed a line. The only upside of the whole situation was that they had started talking again, and Ayrton had come to realize that Y/N was not his enemy. Yes, on the track, the girl might be someone he now had to defeat even more than usual, but she was still his friend, his girlfriend, his partner. Speaking of partners, many women appeared at the funeral, but four of them spent exceptionally long periods by the coffin. They had a lot in common, yet none of them deigned to exchange glances. Each of Ayrton's partners, even today, on such a dramatic day, looked at her as if she were an enemy. Viviane made sure none of them sat on the bench where the family was seated. Y/N belonged to the family. She didn't intrude, Ayrton invited her himself.

"Maybe you should take a break?" Sid Watkins persistently tried to persuade Ayrton and Y/N to withdraw from the upcoming race. "Two weeks, you'll come back to Monaco in better shape, with lighter minds."

Senna sat on one of the crates behind the Williams garage, elbows resting on his knees. Y/N repeatedly wiped her tear-streaked cheeks, trembling hand holding a cigarette. An hour ago, the qualifying session for tomorrow's race was interrupted by Roland Ratzerberger's serious accident. The man was taken to the hospital, but many said he was taken from the track already dead.

"This shouldn't have happened, there shouldn't have been talk of such an accident," the girl repeated, almost hysterical. She was in tremendous shock, having witnessed the accident herself as she was the one who followed Ratzerberger's car.

"They need to cancel the race," Senna said dryly, his gaze fixed on a point in front of him. "We can't race here, not after something like this."

"And if they don't cancel?" Sid looked from Ayrton to Y/N. "Will you race in such a state? You won't sleep over this until tomorrow."

"If they don't cancel, we'll race for him. I'll drive the best I can to honor him with a victory," Ayrton decided, raising his gaze and looking the doctor in the eyes.

"You like fishing, right? Why don't you go back to Brazil, catch some fish, relax. If you want, I'll come with you, I could use it too."

Senna rubbed his face with his hands, intertwining his fingers and pressing them against his lips. Again, he fell silent. He knew they couldn't not race; he certainly couldn't afford to tell Frank after months of effort that he wouldn't start tomorrow. He couldn't do that.

"I don't want to race," Y/N admitted, shaking her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Ayrton, he, Roland-" the man rose without a word and hugged her tightly. He enveloped her in a strong embrace, stroking her hair. Watkins saw that Senna was thinking intensely. And no matter what he said or did to convince him to skip the race, he would do it his own way.

"Think about it, Ayrton. Just think about it," he said one last time. Senna looked him in the eyes and nodded in silence.

Late in the afternoon, Ayrton and Y/N returned to the hotel. They didn't talk much; Y/N occasionally wiped her eyes with a tissue. Ayrton held her hand a lot. When they lay in bed, Senna laid on her stomach, wrapping his arm around her waist. The girl began to run her fingers through his damp hair.

"I don't want to start tomorrow, Y/N," he said softly. He was facing away from her, she couldn't see that he was crying too. "I have a bad feeling."

"You know nobody can force you to do it," she said calmly, her other hand stroking his cheek. "Maybe Watkins is right? Let's fly to your parents, spend time with the kids. It's been two months since you've seen them."

"I can't," he said, wiping his face with his hand. "I can't, nobody needs a driver who doesn't race."

"Ayrton—" "Just hold me," he interrupted, sitting up. The girl obeyed his command, sitting between his legs and hugging him tightly. Both were silent; Y/N tenderly stroked his head and tense back.

"This will be my last season," he said, not moving an inch from her. "I've done enough; I don't need more. I want to focus on something else, on more important things."

"On what, my love?" she asked gently, still stroking his hair.

"I want to be a dad,"

Senna surprised her with this confession. The girl smiled.

"Would you like to have a son or a daughter?"

"A daughter, oh, how I'd love a daughter," he said, pulling away to look at her face. "Would you like to have a child with me? And become my wife?"

Y/N smiled and nodded. "You know I would."

Ayrton returned her smile and cupped her face in his hands, kissing her deeply.

"Te amo, querido,"

"I love you too, Ayrton. And i will always do."

"And i will always do," Y/N said qiuetly, watching as the coffin slowly descends into the ground. Nothing can destroy such love, certainly not death.

[onlyinitforthefandoms]

Greetings loved ones

Let's take a journey

I know a place

Where the grass is really greener

Warm, wet n' wild

There must be something in the water

Sippin' gin and juice

Laying underneath the palm trees

(Undone)

The boys

Break their necks

Try'na to creep a little sneak peek

(At us)

You could travel the world

But nothing comes close

To the golden coast

Once you party with us

You'll be falling in love

Ooh oh ooh oh oh ooh

California girls

We're unforgettable

Daisy dukes

Bikinis on top

Sun-kissed skin

So hot

We'll melt your popsicle

Ooh oh ooh

Ooh oh ooh

California girls

We're undeniable

Fine, fresh, fierce

We got it on lock

West coast represent

Now put your hands up

Ooh oh ooh

Ooh oh ooh

Sex on the beach

We don't mind sand in our stilettos

We freak

In my jeep

Snoop doggy-dog on the stereo oh oh

You could travel the world

But nothing comes close

To the golden coast

Once you party with us

You'll be falling in love

Ooh oh ooh ooh oh ooh

California girls

We're unforgettable

Daisy dukes

Bikinis on top

Sun-kissed skin

So hot

We'll melt your popsicle

Ooh oh ooh

Ooh oh ooh

California girls

We're undeniable

Fine, fresh, fierce

We got it on lock

West coast represent

Now put your hands up

Ooh oh ooh

Ooh oh ooh

Toned, tan

Fit and ready

Turn it up 'cause its gettin' heavy

Wild, wild west coast

These are the girls I love the most

I mean the ones

I mean like she's the one

Kiss her, touch her

Squeeze her buns

The girl's a freak

She drive a jeep

And live on the beach

I'm okay

I won't play

I love the bay

Just like I love L.A.

Venice Beach

And Palm Springs

Summertime is everything

Home boys

Bangin' out

All that ass

Hanging out

Bikinis, zucchinis, martinis

No weenies

Just a king

And a queenie

Katy my lady

(Yeah)

And looky here baby

(Uh huh)

I'm all up on ya

'Cause you representing California (oh yeah)

California girls

We're unforgettable

Daisy dukes

Bikinis on top

Sun-kissed skin

So hot

We'll melt your popsicle

Ooh oh ooh

Ooh oh ooh

California girls

We're undeniable

Fine, fresh, fierce

We got it on lock

West coast represent (west coast, west coast)

Now put your hands up

Ooh oh ooh

Ooh oh ooh

California girls man

(California)

(California girls)

DEEP BREATH

How does a ragtag volunteer army in need of a shower

Somehow defeat a global superpower?

How do we emerge victorious from the quagmire?

Leave the battlefield waving Betsy Ross' flag higher?

Yo, turns out we have a secret weapon

An immigrant, you know and love, who's unafraid to step in

He's constantly confusin', confoundin' the British henchmen

Ev'ryone give it up for America's favorite fighting Frenchman

Lafayette!

I'm takin' this horse by the reins makin'

Redcoats redder with bloodstains

Lafayette!

And I'm never gonna stop until I make 'em

Drop and burn 'em up and scatter their remains, I'm

Lafayette!

Watch me engagin' em! Escapin' em!

Enragin' em! I'm-

Lafayette!

I go to France for more funds

Lafayette!

I come back with more guns

And ships

And so the balance shifts

We rendezvous with Rochambeau, consolidate their gifts

We can end this war at Yorktown, cut them off at sea, but

For this to succeed, there is someone else we need

I know

Hamilton!

Sir, he knows what to do in a trench

Ingenuitive and fluent in French, I mean-

Hamilton!

Sir, you're gonna have to use him eventually

What's he gonna do on the bench ami?

Hamilton!

No one has more resilience

Or matches my practical tactical brilliance

Hamilton!

You wanna fight for your land back?

Hamilton!

I need my right-hand man back!

Ah! Uh, get ya right-hand man, back

You know you gotta get ya right-hand man back

I mean you gotta put some thought

Into the letter but the sooner the better

To get your right-hand man back

Alexander Hamilton

Troops are waiting in the field for you

If you join us right now, together we can turn the tide

Oh, Alexander Hamilton

I have soldiers that will yield for you

If we manage to get this right

They'll surrender by early light

The world will never be the same, Alexander

[cevans-seb]

Bucky FWB’s Drabble

You fiddle with your porcelain china dish. It is a family heirloom that has been passed down for 7 generations and according to your grandmother, it’s used to bring great fortune to whoever possesses it. So, why are you currently in a heated argument with your friend with benefits, Bucky.

James is a walking red flag.

His obsessive nature drives you insane when he constantly calls you all hours of the day. You’re at work? He doesn’t fucking care! Your mom want to spend time with you? Oh, he hates that, but let you bring up Natasha one timee…. The man would combust.

“I told you I didn’t fuck Natasha. I was out drinking with a couple of friends and she happened to be there.” He wheezed, turning redder with each word. “ God, I don’t know why you are so adamant about this shit? We already knew this was just sex so why does it matter if I were to fuck someone else.” You were fuming at this. This was the same man who brutalized your coworker after he spotted you both getting coffee.

“So now it’s only sex? Well, how about I call up Steve since you know whatever the fuck we are doing is meaningless!” You carelessly let the dish clank against your bar, stepping closer to your brooding lover. “See how you like knowing that your worst enemy is fucking me into my masstress or better yet calling him daddy instead of you. Because he’s been texting for a while now and I think it’s time I entertain the thought.” You crossed your arms, letting your robe cover your cleavage.

“Or what about Logan? He wants us to start over and maybe we should become apparently nothing is florshing in this situation we have here! You are so fucking hypocritical ,Bucky. You say that it’s only sex but I can never go out without you knowing where I’m going or god forbid I’m out with another guy!” At this point tears streamed down your face and you could feel your cheeks heating up from frustration. “You treat me like a girlfriend when I’m only a fuck buddy that you keep around to keep your dick wet. God, I hate you so much.”

If he was angry before, you knew he was livid. His jaw clenched and his eyes held a blank look as they bored into yours. You almost thought he wasn’t breathing until his chest heaved rapidly. All too soon, Bucky had you pinned against the refrigerator with his metal hand wrapped around your waist.

“Now I don’t think I heard you correctly. Do you want to repeat what you just said ?” He antagonized you. “You were a big girl a second ago, what happened to her?” His eyes held a gleam that you never saw before but it’s gone before you could dissect it. “ And you hate me? Let’s see how much you hate me when I have you moaning my name, little fucking brat.”

_____

Don’t know if I should continue this.

[golbrocklovely]

Hello , hello , can I ask you if it’s okay , hum I’ve seen many video of Shea(no hate) on TikTok and I just don’t understand why everyone love her,… is it cause they have so much chemistry with each other?. do you think they could go back together? Or it’s better for him to find a new girl? Just asking? 😅…..

shea and colby never dated. i wasn't sure if you saying "back together" meant in a friendly way or romantic. but just in case anyone else was curious, they haven't dated. even tho her fans claim otherwise.

(possibly bc she herself has kinda alluded to them dating, but she's also said in the past that they haven't so… imma believe colby before her, and he says they haven't.)

as for why ppl like her, i mean she seems… nice? she's nice to colby, and is relatively nice to fans. if you don't count her badmouthing one of them in a gc, blocking them, and then acting like she's never heard of them when asked. bc that happened too. but i think a lot of ppl ignore her more redder flags bc they like the idea of how she and colby interact. they want ~adventure buddies~, they want the 🦋🖤 comments, they want the corpse bride references… not the shea that makes fun and likes edits that shit on the girls colby is also close to. or the girl that tells a gc of fans that him and another girl he's friends with aren't dating bc that girl is with someone, even tho that girl never even told her fanbase until after they broke up. it's easy to shove that shit to side bc "omg they're so cute together! i just love their friendship :3", even tho she liked comments saying that fans ruined their friendship bc they didn't hang out for a while.

imma be honest, i don't get why anyone likes shea. even if you ignore all of this shit, which has receipts, what exactly does she do? she makes no content, she doesn't post, her poetry book could have been a couple tweets bc it's all free verse with little to no creativity… i don't get it. and it's not my place to get, i guess lol

[silantryoo]

SHE'S THE GREENEST OF GREENS STOP THE SLANDER 💔💔💔💔💔 my pookiebear comforted a gay nevie with unsupportive parents and told us (queer nevies) to love bravely and spoke up about violence against women and comforted a s**cidal nevie and sets clear boundaries if she does anything wrong it's cause she was in a silly goofy mood 💔💔

HELP BEING A RED FLAG ISNT SLANDER 😭😭😭 MS. HIRAI MOMO AND MS. NINGNING ARE REDDER FLAGS THAN HER, AND LITERALLY I LOVE THEM

shuhua's been a decent, understanding human being since the beginning of time. that girl is very sweet and very caring, but almost everyone in the entire world is yellow flag - red flag. not only that but this is j what i see from her, her idol persona 😭😭😭. she could be a completely diff person irl, or you can perceive her differently 😭😭

[bisluthq]

So now we just waste our time with relationships until we find the one we marry with? Is that the thesis? That the only relationship worth our time is our "supposed forever"? All of the other people must have been shitty, because obviously you only have one good boyfriend in your life

yeah I find this a very reductive way of thinking. I have never been married and I’ve realized I don’t want to be and maybe one day I’ll change my mind again and do it idk lol but like it doesn’t mean people I loved but didn’t marry/didn’t marry me were or are a waste of my time. Fwiw like I just asked my bf based on this convo y’all and I are having if he feels his ex wife was a waste of time and he says absolutely not. He regrets marrying her for sure and on some levels he regrets the entire relationship because the flags were redder than they are at a bullfight lol but he genuinely doesn’t feel like he “wasted” time, he just thinks like the first time she went to do ❄️ in the bathroom with some random dude like he should’ve known that she is gonna be a problem (and I did say to him like where does that leave me because isn’t that what he did to me a month or two back lol at that party where he wound up leaving and I wound up staying out for ages and making out with Ash until I slurred his name enough that someone put me in a car but that someone was also me lol because even fucked off my face me is very competent with Ubers). Like his ex was legit horrible but that doesn’t make it a waste of time. My parents are divorced - my mum multiple times divorced lol - and I don’t think either of them think about any of it as wasting time.

I will tell y’all something that was a time waster - I went on a few dates with this boy in like later undergrad like before I got with my ex and when I had my platonic wife and was hooking up with Bookstore Girl and when I was pining after the Gatsby motherfucker and like we went on a series of dates and got along very well and then he went home with me and couldn’t get it up and I was like “okay these things happen” and then we saw each other another few times and then he was like “dude I think I’m gay” and he was correct because he is indeed married to a man now. I don’t think I actively wasted his time because while I too am not straight, I am into dudes and he was very nice and very pretty and we liked all the same things but he wasted mine a bit because I really did think like we could date and he was checking if he was straight enough to date a girl lol. Like he even told me after like “it really helped me because you’re so pretty and funny and smart and you like all the stuff that I like so if I don’t like you it’s because I’m gay” and I was like “I guess that’s a bit flattering????” So he wasted my time lol like legitimately and he wasted my money because I could’ve spent that on other stuff but he didn’t waste his own because he figured some shit out ykwim? And I can’t resent like…. that lol. Even though he did highkey waste my time.

[sarahisgay01]

Fireworks

Robin x Nancy x Fem!Reader

Notes: This is all fluffy and sorta a part 3 to “You’re Beautiful, Sweet Girl” (If you’re a minor do not read part 1 and 2) Robin, Nancy, and reader are in a established poly relationship

The Fourth of July was coming up in a few days and Steve thought I’d be a good idea to throw a small party at his house. He was only inviting you, Robin, Nancy, Eddie, and the kids. Robin thought I’d be funny if you, her, and Nancy each wore a color of the American flag to the party. You and Nancy agreed, so you all went shopping at the mall for clothes. Nancy was shopping for red, Robin was shopping for navy, and you were shopping for white. Robin was the one that made you choose white, she said, “You’re Nance and I’s angel and angels wear white. So, you’re wearing white, sweet girl.” You laughed at her reasoning, but you didn’t mind wearing white, so you obliged. Plus, you know that Robin looks amazing in navy and Nancy looks stunning in red. Nancy found a red, string bikini set and when she tried it on your face turned red. You were sitting next to Robin and glanced over at her. Her face was redder than yours and you swear you could see her drooling. Nancy asked, “So, how does it look?” and you stuttered out, “It- It- It looks good, N- Nance. It looks so very good.” Robin said, “Y- Yeah, please, please buy it. If you don’t buy it, (Y/N) and I are going to buy it for you.” You nodded your head in agreement and Nancy giggled. She asked, “So it really looks that good?” and in unison, you and Robin said “Yes.” So, Nancy bought that bathing suit and Robin suggested that she borrow one of her red shirts to wear over top of it. Nancy smiled and agreed, then decided she was wearing a pair of jean shorts with Robin’s shirt. So, her outfit for the party was now picked out. Now it was Robin’s turn to pick out her bathing suit. Robin had sensory issues, so it was hard for her to find a bathing suit that she found comfortable. The three of you picked out all the navy bathing suits you could find in the store. She tried on almost all of them before she found the one she wanted. When she came out to show you and Nancy, Nancy’s jaw, along with yours, hit the floor. She came out of the dressing room wearing a strapless navy bikini that had a gold ring in the center of her chest, separating her breasts. The bottoms were just navy, but they fit her so nicely. Robin came out smiling and said, “This is the one! This is the one! What do you guys think?” Nancy said, “Pretty. You look- You look really pretty, Rob” and you said “Holy shit, you look hot in that, Rob.” She blushed and smiled, then mumbled, “Thank you” before going back into the changing room. She bought that bathing suit and you said, “Rob, don’t worry about a navy shirt to buy. I have one that you can borrow.” She smiled and said, “Thank you, sweet girl.” Robin decided she was also going to wear a pair of jean shorts to the party, like Nancy. Now that the both of them had their swimsuits and planned cover ups for the party, it was your turn to find what you were wearing.

You looked at your girlfriends and said, “I uh- I don’t know what to- what to wear.” Nancy said, “That’s okay, sweet girl, that’s why we’re here to help you. I think you should get a bikini, you’d look really cute in one, (Y/N).” Robin was nodding her head in agreement and said, “Nance is right, angel. You’d look so amazing in a bikini.” You looked down at the ground and mumbled, “You don’t- You don’t think I’ll be too uh- too fat to wear one?” Tears started building in your eyes and Nancy said, “Oh, baby, no! You’re going to look beautiful, (Y/N). If you don’t want to wear one, that’s okay. You can wear whatever you want, but just know that you’re never too fat to wear an article of clothing, sweet girl.” Robin said, “(Y/N), your body is so beautiful and nobody that’s attending Steve’s party is going to judge you. I definitely think you should at least try on some bikinis here and if you don’t like them, then we can switch bathing suit types, alright?” You nodded your head and then they both helped you pick out a couple bikini options. When you came out of the dressing room in the last bikini set, both your girlfriends’ mouths hung open. You mumbled and stuttered, “I think I- I think I like this- this one. What do- What do you guys th- think?” Your eyes had tears in them, you were scared to show them. Nancy walked over to you and cupped your cheeks, she said “Sweet girl, you look so beyond beautiful in this. So so beautiful, (Y/N).” Robin walked over a couple seconds later and said, “(Y/N), you look so good, like a model or something. Holy shit, you look so beautiful, I can’t believe it. I mean, I can because you look amazing in everything, but wow this looks hundred times better on you than I even imagined when I picked it out.” You smiled at them and said, “Really? You both like how it looks on me?” They both nodded their heads and Nancy said, “Mhmmm, pretty girl”, then Robin said, “Yes, sweet girl. You look amazing. You have to buy it, (Y/N) or I’m going to buy it for you.” You agreed to buy it and Nancy said, “(Y/N), I have a lot of white shirts at my house you can borrow, so no need to buy one.” Then you gave Nancy a kiss on the cheek and said, “Thank you, Nance.” After you checked out, the three of you walked back to Nancy’s car and she drove the three of you to her house.

When you all arrived at Nancy’s, it was almost 9:00pm. The three of you were at the mall for almost three hours trying on bathing suits. Robin said, “Nance, I’m starving. Do you have anything you could make me?” Nancy said, “Yeah, definitely. (Y/N), are you hungry, angel?” You nodded your head and she said, “Alright, I can make grilled cheeses. Does that sound good?” You nodded your head rapidly and Robin said, “Fuck yes, Nance! I swear to god you make the best grilled cheeses, please make me one.” She giggled and said, “Thank you, baby. Of course I’ll make us all grilled cheeses.” When she finished cooking and all of you finished eating your sandwiches, the three of you went upstairs. Each of you took turns in the bathroom getting ready for bed, then changed into pajamas. When everyone was ready for bed, you all cuddled up in Nancy’s bed, with Nancy laying in between you and Robin. You nuzzled your head into her chest and placed one of your hands on her stomach. Robin did the same and she played with your fingers. You loved when she would play with your fingers, cause you knew it helped calm her down and you loved the feeling of her touch. Nancy pulled up some of your shirt and started, lightly, scratching your back. You could feel your eyes start to flicker open and shut, then you mumbled “Sleepy.” Nancy kissed the top of your head and said, “Okay angel. We can go to bed. I love you, (Y/N).” You replied with a sleepy and mumbled, “I love you, Nance.” Then Robin said, “Goodnight, sweet girl. I love you, (Y/N).” You replied with a sleepy and mumbled, “I love you, Rob.” Robin turned off the light and a couple minutes later, you were fast asleep. Nancy and Robin said their goodnights and I love yous to each other, then fell asleep too.

The following day was July 3rd, Nancy and Robin woke up early, so Nancy could drive Robin home. They left at around 7:30am, so Robin had time to get ready for work before Steve picked her up at 8:45am. You were half awake when they left and Nancy said, “Shhhh, angel, go back to sleep. I’ll be back in about 30 minutes, okay? Gotta go drop Robin off.” Your response to her was a “Mmm’kay” before falling back asleep almost instantly. Robin worked almost all day today, so you spent most of the day with Nancy. When she returned from dropping Robin off, she gently climbed back into bed and you nuzzled your head into her chest, then wrapped your arms around her. She played with your hair while you fell back asleep. You fully woke up at around 10:00am with Nancy’s fingers still playing with your hair. She looks down at you and kisses the top of your head, then says, “Good morning, angel.” You mumbled, “Have you been awake this whole time?” and she giggled, then said “No, I fell asleep a little while after you did and I’ve been awake for about 20 minutes.” She had a huge smile on her face because she loved the way you acted when you first wake up. Nancy loves how clingy you are when you’re sleepy and your sleepy voice makes her heart melt. You whined when you felt her move out of the bed and you mumbled, “No, come back.” Nancy said, “I know sweet girl, I wish I could stay in bed all day and cuddle, but I have to work on some journal articles.” You said, “It’s okay. Do you want me to leave while you work?” She said, “Not unless you want to, (Y/N)” and you shook your head, no. You said, “I want to stay with you. I have a book in my bag, I’ll just read that.” Nancy smiled and said, “Okay, sweet girl. You can stay with me while I work on my articles.” You spent the entire day with Nancy, she would write and you would read your book. Every now and then, you would look over at her and stare at her as she wrote. She caught you a couple times and when she did, you’d shrug and say, “I can’t focus on my book when you look so beautiful right in front of me.” It’d make her blush every time and you loved seeing her pale cheeks turn a bright shade of pink. Nancy took a break to have a snack at around 2:00pm and you joined her. She made you toast with butter on it and cut up some fruit. When she gave you your plate, she kissed the top of your head and said, “Here you go, angel.” You smiled and said, “Thank you, Nance. I love you.” Nancy smiled back at you and said, “I love you too, sweet girl.” The two of you went back upstairs about 30 minutes later and she continued working, while you continued reading. A couple hours later, after Robin got off work, you and Nancy met her at her house. The three of you watched a movie, then you and Nancy left at around 10:00pm. Nancy dropped you off at your house, then drove home. That night, all you could think about was the party at Steve’s tomorrow and what everyone what think of you in your bikini.

The whole night you tossed and turned, missing the comfort of Robin and Nancy’s embraces. You woke up at 11:00am, after only getting a couple hours of sleep. Waking up at 11:00am gave you the perfect amount of time to get ready before Nancy picked you up at 12:45pm. You got out of bed, ate breakfast, showered, then got dressed and ready to go. Right when you were walking down your stairs, you saw Nancy’s car pull up in front of your house. You ran out your front door and to her car. She hadn’t picked Robin up yet, so you got shotgun. When you got into her car, you gave her a tight hug and said “I missed you”, then gave her a kiss on the cheek. She smiled and said, “Hi angel, I missed you too. Lets go pick up Robin, now, we don’t want to be late to Steve’s.” You nodded rapidly and said, “Mhmmm, okay!”, then quickly put on your seatbelt. When you got to Robin’s, she walked out of her house and then slid into the backseat. She gave you and Nancy each a kiss on the cheek, then put her seatbelt on. Robin said, “How are my two beautiful girls today?” and you yawned, then said, “Tired.” Nancy said, “I’m good, baby. (Y/N), why are you so tired, sweet girl?” and you replied, “I uh- I didn’t sleep well. Missed you guys.” Then you looked down embarrassed, thinking that you were being too clingy. Robin said, “Aw angel, you know you can always call me and I’ll come over. Okay?” and Nancy said, “Me too, sweet girl.” You smiled and said, “R- Really? You both would- You both would do that for me?” Robin said, “Anything for you, pretty girl” and Nancy said, “Mhmmm, anything for you, angel.” You blushed and stuttered a “Th- Thank y- y- you”, then a couple minutes later, Nancy pulled into Steve’s driveway.

Everyone else was already here, you knew because you saw all the bikes stacked in Steve’s driveway. When you opened your car door, you heard youthful and happy screams, from the kids, which made you smile. The three of you walked up to the front door and Nancy went to knock, but Robin just opened the door, then walked right in. Nancy said, “Rob, you’re supposed to knock before entering a house that’s not yours, you know?” and she smiled, then said “It’s Steve, Nance.” She nodded her head and said, “Yeah, okay. You have a point.” You started laughing and followed behind Robin, who was making her way straight to the kitchen. Nancy wasn’t too far behind you and when the three of you walked into the kitchen, all of your eyes were met with a ton of food. Robin immediately went to grab a handful of chips, while Nancy went and ate some strawberries. You walked closer to Nancy and she said, “Does my sweet girl want a sweet strawberry?” You giggled and nodded your head, then she fed you a strawberry. A hum left your mouth and you said, “Mmmm so sweet.” Nancy said, “Just like you, pretty girl” and tapped your nose. She smiled and giggled, then Robin said, “Ew! I cannot believe I just witnessed that from the two people I love the most.” You rolled your eyes and said, “Oh be quiet! I’m surprised you weren’t the one to do that, honestly.” She pretended to act hurt and you just rolled your eyes, then giggled. Nancy said, “It seems like everyone is outside, so lets go say hello” and then she walked away. You and Robin followed her, then the three of you heard Dustin yell, “Hey! (Y/N), Robin, and Nancy are here! Hey guys!” The three of you wave and in unison, say, “Hey guys!” Steve and Eddie were sitting on one of Steve’s pool chairs and Robin went over to them. She plopped down on the chair next to theirs and said, “Hey, dingus! Hey, Eddie!” They both smiled and said, “Hey, Rob!” Then you came over and sat next to Robin. The boys said their hellos and the four of you began talking. Nancy sat on the pool chair next to you and Robin’s, then started undressing so she could tan. You and Robin watched her like a hawk as she stripped off her jean shorts and Robin’s t-shirt she borrowed. Nancy giggled and said in a teasing tone, “Can the two of you not gawk at me while I take off my cover up.” Robin says, “No can do, Nance. When you look like that, I’m going to gawk at you as much as I can.” Steve says, “Robin, I’ve never seen someone stare at two people as much as you stare at Nancy or (Y/N). You’re constantly, and I mean constantly, staring at them.” Robin replies, “Hey! When you’re dating two beautiful girls, it’s hard not to stare at them 24/7!” You, Steve, Eddie, and Nancy started laughing. Nancy said, “Rob, (Y/N), we should go swimming, hmmm?” and Dustin overheard what Nancy said. He said, “Yes! Everyone in the pool!” Eddie and Steve did cannonballs into the pool, then you watched as Robin started to strip herself of her jean shorts and your t-shirt you let her borrow. You just sat there and fiddled with the hem of Nancy’s t-shirt she let you wear.

Nancy and Robin noticed your demeanor and body language changed to being more anxious. Robin placed her hand on your back and said, “It’s okay, (Y/N). You got this, take your time, pretty girl. You look so beautiful in your bikini, angel. Your body is so beautiful.” Nancy walked over and said, “You got this, sweet girl. Take your time, we’re here to help you, (Y/N).” You took a deep breath and whispered, “Okay, I got this, I got this.” Then you quickly took off Nancy’s shirt she let you borrow and your shorts. Robin and Nancy smiled and Nancy said, “That’s our pretty girl. So beautiful.” Robin said, “So fucking beautiful! Holy shit!” and your face turns bright red from the compliments. You said, “Th- Thank y- you” and Nancy gave you a kiss on cheek, then Robin peppered you with kisses until you were giggling. Robin knows that peppering your face with kisses always helps you cheer up, so she does it whenever you’re upset. When you stand up and are next to your girlfriends, Steve says, “Oh my god, did the three of you wear red, white, and navy like the American flag?” Robin got really excited and said, “Yeah! It was my idea!” You and Nancy smiled at how excited she was, then Steve said, “Of course it was, Rob.” Eddie said, “I think it’s cute!” and Max said, “Totally dorky, but cute.” Dustin said, “Yeah, yeah, the three of you look great and like the American flag. Can you guys just get in?” The three of you giggled and Robin said, “So pushy, Henderson.” Eddie said, “Always is, and his tone, god his tone just makes it worse” and Steve was nodding next to him. Everyone, but Dustin laughed and agreed, then the three of you got in the pool. You all played games and proceeded to check on Nancy, making sure she was always okay. Nancy told you about everything that happened at Steve’s a while back, when she woke up one night hyperventilating from a nightmare about it. She kept reassuring you and Robin that she was okay and grateful for the two of you checking on her. Your favorite part of the party was the cannonball contest. Everyone had to participate and Dustin was sure he was going to win. He ended up coming in third, Eddie in second, and of course, Steve was first. Steve made Eddie and Dustin call him King Steve for the rest of the day. Eddie thought it was funny, but Dustin hated it. After the cannonball contest, you, Nancy, and Robin got out of the pool. The three of you tanned, well, you and Nancy tanned. Robin can’t tan because she can’t stay still, so she sat on the end of Nancy’s chair and talked to the two of you. She also helped you and Nancy reapply sunscreen since she wanted something to do. Around two hours after the cannonball contest, everyone dried off and went inside.

Steve brought all the snacks he had in the kitchen, into his living room. He said, “Lets vote on a movie, I have Gremlins and Back to the Future.” Everyone agreed on Gremlins, so you all watched that and snacked. When the movie was over, Steve said “It’s dark out now, yes!” He got up quickly and grabbed a bag, everyone, but Eddie was confused. Then Steve said, “Everyone come outside!” Everyone got up quickly and went outside, except for Nancy. You noticed and said, “Nance, I’ll stay inside with you if you don’t want to go out.” She smiled and said, “Can you just hold my hand, (Y/N)?” You immediately went and grabbed her hand, then said, “Of course, Nance. I’d do anything for you, okay?” She smiled, then gave you a kiss and replied, “Thank you, sweet girl. I need you to not let go though, please.” You nodded and said, “Of course, Nance. I won’t let go until you tell me. Okay?” She said, “Okay. Thank you, (Y/N). I really appreciate it.” You kissed the top of her head and said, “Anything for you.” When the two of you walked outside, you guys walked over to Robin. Nancy immediately grabbed her hand and she turned to face her. Robin said, “Nance, you okay?” and Nancy replied, “Mhmmm just hold my hand please and don’t let go.” Robin nodded and said, “Yeah, okay, Nance. I won’t, I promise.” Next thing they know, fireworks start shooting up in the sky. Everyone’s heads look up and smiles appear on everyone’s face, even Nancy’s. Dustin goes, “Holy shit, Steve! That’s awesome!” Steve says, “I thought you all would think so.” After about 30 minutes, all the fireworks were done and everyone went back inside. Nancy yawned and said, “Do you guys want to head out? I’m getting tired and don’t want to fall asleep here.” You and Robin agreed, then you said, “We can go to my house, my parents aren’t home tonight. I zoned out when they said where they were going. All I know is that they’re not home tonight.” The three of you laughed and Robin said, “So, sleepover at (Y/N)’s house?” Nancy hummed a “Mhmmm” and then the three of you smiled. Robin stood up and said, “The three of us are heading out. We’re all tired from being in the sun all day. Thanks for the party, dingus.” Steve replied, “Yeah, no problem. I’ll see you at work tomorrow, we start at noon, so I’ll pick you up in the morning. Yours at 11:45am?” Robin said, “Sounds good, dingus” and Steve said, “Okay. Bye, (Y/N)! Bye, Nance!” Both you and Nancy said your goodbye and thanked Steve for throwing the party. Then the three of you said bye to everyone else and were out the door. When you walked out the door, Robin said “Shotgun!” and you said, “Shit! Ugh” Nancy just laughed as she was getting into her car.

When the three of you arrived at your house, you said, “We all need to shower and it’s best not to waste water” and you winked. Nancy and Robin playfully shoved you and said, “Oh my god, (Y/N).” You started giggling and said, “I mean, I’m not wrong!” So, the three of you took a shower. Your bathroom had a big shower, which was very helpful for when the three of you showered together. You loved showering with your girlfriends, mainly because you didn’t have to move a muscle, unless you wanted to. Nancy loves washing your hair and watching your face relax as her nails dig deep into your scalp. Robin loves washing your body because, well, it’s your body and she loves the touch of your soft skin. Nancy helped Robin wash her hair, while she washed her body. Next, Nancy washed her own hair and body. Then it was your turn to be babied by them and you loved it. It made you feel so relaxed, but also loved and appreciated. The first time they did this for you, you couldn’t hold back tears from rolling down your face. Your emotions took over and you just cried at how loved you felt. When you were all clean, you grabbed three towels from under the sink and handed one towel to Robin, then one to Nancy. All of you dried off, then went back into your room and changed into pajamas. It was 8:00pm and you said, “Do you guys want to watch a quick movie? I have, The Breakfast Club, which is only like 90 minutes.” Nancy got excited and said, “Yes! The Breakfast Club!” Robin laughed, then said, “It’s so cute how excited you get over the smallest things, baby” and you smiled and nodded. Nancy blushed and mumbled, “Thank you.” Robin said, “We’ll get comfy in your bed, (Y/N), while you find the tape and put it in.” You nodded and went to go grab the tape from downstairs. When you came back you saw Nancy curled up into Robin’s chest and quickly put in the tape, so you could go cuddle with your girlfriends. You nuzzled your head into Robin’s chest and then wrapped one of your legs around one of hers. Nancy’s hand was on Robin’s stomach and you placed yours over top of it, then played with her fingers. The three of you cuddled like this until the movie was over and you had to get up to turn off the tv. You did it as quickly as possible, so you could get back into bed and cuddle with your girlfriends. The three of you said your goodnights and I love yous, then turned off the light. Before you fell asleep, you looked back over your day and smiled. You thought that today was one of the most fun days you’ve had in a while. Then you looked at your two girlfriends sleeping peacefully and whispered, “So beautiful, I’m so lucky to have you both.” You closed your eyes and soon fell asleep with a big smile on your face, cuddled up with the two most beautiful girls you’ve ever laid your eyes upon.

I hope you liked it!!🥺💖

[nxrthmizu]

kill em’ with kindness

fandom | miraculous ladybug 

genre | lila salt, so much salt 

summary | marinette takes the high road to a better life. 

w.c | 8.1k 

author’s note | had this idea for a few days after i wrote victory tastes bitter, which really blew up on ao3 (thanks for all the support <3). always wondered what it would be like if marinette just. played nice. so here she is, being an absolute badass. 

author’s note.2 | okay so since i did not write this in one sitting, i get that the story probably doesn’t flow as properly as it should. will edit if i ever find the will to do it. 

Marinette was done. They wanted her to be a model student? Fine. They wanted her to stop being mean? Fine. They wanted her to be friends with Lila? Fine.

Luckily for Hawkmoth, no akuma plagued the sky of the previous night, or she would rain hell on him. There was no more tolerance left inside her to spare, and she certainly wouldn’t go out of her way to make some for the manipulative pest problem Paris has had for way too long.

She looked up into the mirror, having exchanged her pigtails for a low ponytail, strands curled to frame her face. Bluebell eyes glistened with a fire that burned brighter than hope— Hope that her ‘friends’ would see sense. Hope that Adrien would be there for her. Hope that the good guy would always get the happy ending. No more being patient, no more being passive, no more putting up with things she didn’t have to.

If Lila Rossi wanted a battle, then fine, a battle she would get. Marinette was lowering her white flag, replacing it with a battle emblem that scorched red, redder than blood and redder than the anger her friends would feel when she was finished. No more peace negotiations. Rossi wanted a fight, Rossi wanted a challenge. Who was Marinette to deny her from what she wanted?

They didn’t know what was coming for them.

The power of makeup was truly one that reigned apex among the world. A few touches of her makeup brush was all it took to erase her dark eyes from existence, give her skin a more radiant glow (She promised that she’d take time to give it a natural glow after she was done being nice), and ease a cherry-pink blush onto her cheeks, making her freckles stand out more in contrast. Marinette Dupain-Cheng meant business, and when she meant business—

“Good morning, Marinette! You look great today!” The head of the student council, a sensible, down-to-Earth blonde by the name of Noelle smiled, speeding up slightly to catch the bluenette on the steps of Francois Dupont. “Love the new look.”

Ah yes. The new look— A royal blue blazer, detailed with golden embroidery of cherry blossoms bursting at the sleeves and the collar, accompanied by a classy-looking silk blouse tapered with a soft, black felt. The pleated black skirt (Made from heavy cloth so that it wouldn’t flap about in the wind) was lined with a beautiful scarlet at all the edges to complete the look. Knee-high black socks trailed all the way into the slight heels that Marinette had added flower adornments on, just so she could tap a little of her own touch on it.

“Thank you,” Responded the bluenette with a smile.

“Woah! Someone looks like they got a good night of rest.” Madeline, the president of the Art Club teased, flocking to the other side of the girl. “That mascara looks sharp enough to kill, girl!”

Sharp enough to kill?

Oh, that wouldn’t be necessary, Marinette mused to herself, sending out thanks to those who had complimented her on her way to class. Nothing sharp was going to be required for the liar’s downfall— No, no. That would just be too messy, and she wouldn’t even think of staining her new outfit. Of course, the ensemble was crafted from her own hands, as stated by the classic MDC that graced the inside of her blazer, the collar of her blouse, and one of the pleats of her skirt. Besides… Lila wasn’t worth getting her hands dirty.

She was going to do things the right way.

The kind way.

“Good morning, everyone.” She greeted, walking into the classroom, garnering their attention with her punctuality. Every set of eyes in the room were attracted to her, like iron fillings to magnets. Some of the gazes were malicious, hateful; Some were doubtful, wary; One was pleading, as if spelling out ‘Please keep taking the high road!’— And then there was Chloe, who was entirely uninterested.

Good, Lila was already present.

“I’d just like to take a minute of your time. Won’t be too long, I promise.” She took a deep breath, ignoring the imploring gaze that dug at her side, courtesy of a blonde that sat in the front row (And no, it wasn’t Chloe she was referring to). “I’d just like to say…”

The class watched with bated breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Alya blinked. So did everyone else in the room. Stunned faces greeted Marinette’s apologetic one, including Lila’s— She didn’t even have to fake her reaction. What on Earth was Marinette trying to pull off? What kind of stunt was this?

“I realise that I’ve not really been the best version of me lately,” She admitted sorrowfully. I haven’t been the best version of me because I was being boycotted and isolated, “It wasn’t fair to put you all through this,” It wasn’t fair that you idiots had to lose all your reputations because of the words of one liar, “And people got hurt as a consequence,” Me. I was the one who got hurt. “I realise that things haven’t been all smooth-sailing in our class lately, so I’d like to apologise to everyone.” I’d like to apologise for not being able to save you from a liar who only sees her own personal gain.

A practiced breath escaped Marinette’s throat as she waited for her cue— The school bell— And set her bag on the teacher’s desk. Good, everything was unfolding right on time. Not quite far away, there was a distinct clack-clack-clack of someone’s heels— An auburn teacher, perhaps? Marinette reached into her backpack and drew out a package she had meticulously wrapped in brown paper and tied in golden ribbon. Sitting passively on top of the package was a small note, decorated in hand-drawn flowers and a hummingbird in the corner.

“Here,” Marinette strode up the steps of the class, stopping right in front of her former seat— Now Lila’s— Internally taking pleasure in the first time she’d seen the Italian’s true expression. “For you, as a token of my apology. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me,” Marinette swallowed painfully, biting her lip, as if she was trying not to cry, “But I just want to make things right.”

Lila blinked.

What the hell was happening?

The silence was broken by a quiet sob, one that did not originate from Marinette. Instead, Mlle. Caline Bustier stood in the doorway of the class, clutching her books and notes for the day’s lesson, wiping away a tear that dropped from her eye. “Oh, Marinette,” The teacher sobbed, “I’m so proud of you.”

“That’s so sweet of you, Marinette.” Rose sniffed, wiping away a few tears of her own that had started dripping during the bluenette’s speech. Juleka patted her girlfriend’s back, trying to calm the emotional blonde before she cried out a tsunami on top of her textbooks, giving Marinette a thumbs up to show her approval.

Alya beamed, seemingly proud of her former best friend, who had (In her opinion) finally started to see sense. “I’m so proud of you, girl!”

(Adrien was too shocked to form any words.)

“Could you… Open it?” Marinette asked hopefully, ignoring the teacher for the favour of the liar who ruined her life. “I… Just want to know if you like it.”

The Italian could do nothing more than grit her teeth when Alya urged her to open it. What kind of trick was Mari-Brat up to? Never mind— She’d just spin it into something stupid and the class would take to it like starved animals. With no other choice, she tore apart the brown paper, discarding the golden ribbon on her desk. The class gasped, oohs and aahs echoing all around as the package unfolded to reveal a pretty, beige-coloured cardigan, hand-stitched with murals of foxes, jumping livelily among berry bushes.

Stitched into the inside of the cardigan in pastel blue were the words ‘Lila Rossi’, done in an exquisite cursive that could no doubt only come from Marinette’s hand.

“I made it for you myself,” Marinette sniffed humbly. “I know you’re a really great model and you’ve probably seen clothes that are much better than this one, but I poured all my feelings into it. I spent every night of last week working on it, and—” She hiccuped rather loudly, instantly covering her mouth with her hand in embarrassment. “I just hope you like it.”

“I…” Lila was at a loss for words. She had an itinerary full of the lies and stories she would spin that day (“Marinette texted me mean things last night,” she would weep tearfully to Alya, sniffing and wiping away tears on Alya’s shirt sleeve, “I just want to be friends but she just keeps… Attacking me!”) but no matter. A smirk danced along the Italian’s lips. “Did you design this yourself?” 

Judging by the smirk that Marinette could practically hear in the other girl’s tone, the liar already had a trick up her sleeve. If Marinette had to guess... 

Something along the lines of she stole this design from [random designer], who just coincidentally had the time to be Lila’s friend. Or maybe the friend of Lila’s grandmother. Whichever didn’t matter much, because Marinette was prepared. 

Marinette crossed the room in mere seconds, returning back to Lila’s seat with a sketchbook that she’d pulled from her bag. “Here!” She chirped, flipping open the page with an exercised movement, not even having to shuffle through the pages to find the correct sketch. “I brought the original sketch, just in case you wanted to see it so you could get a professional to redo it for you.” 

Lila opened and closed her mouth like a gaping fish out of water. Beside her, Alya’s eyes sparkled, envy still glowing in her eyes at the sight of the intricate foxes, coloured in hazel, gold, and orange threads. 

“Thank you, Marinette.” Lila gritted through her teeth, basically seething at the thought of having to thank the girl in front of her, who was smiling like an innocent sunshine child. 

The bluenette then turned her attention to her homeroom teacher. “Sorry for interrupting and taking up class time, Mlle. Bustier.” 

“It’s not a problem, Marinette,” Mlle. Bustier wiped at her eyes, slightly embarrassed now that the whole class was watching her cry at the sight of her ‘model student’ correcting her wrongs. “E— Excuse me.” She mumbled, clearing her throat. “Let’s pick off from where we stopped yesterday. Open your textbooks to page 63, please.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The rest of the day went along smoothly. Marinette sat at the back of class, as usual, sighing in boredom as class was derailed off course, whisked off by another one of Lila’s tall tales. Honestly, they were already weeks off schedule— How the hell were they expected to sit for the final exam, at this rate? 

She huffed quietly to herself, watching Bustier trying (and failing) to act like she wasn’t interested in Lila’s story. The woman— An actual adult— Fell for Lila’s usual tricks like a fool, taking in every single word in drunken thirst. Did Mlle. Bustier really have nothing better to do than get absorbed in a teenage girl’s wild fantasies (in a way it was like that). At that thought, Marinette sat up straighter in her chair, an idea going off like a lightbulb above her brain. 

Was it...? 

After further thought, Marinette settled back into her chair, humming thoughtfully as she drummed her fingers against her table quietly. Yes... Yes, perhaps. 

Perhaps it was possible. 

The rest of the lesson passed in wasted time as the class took a major detour to go on a warped journey through Lila’s lies, and before Bustier knew it, the lunch bell had rung. Students chattered animatedly as everyone got up, Mlle. Bustier’s announcement of ‘please go home and study this chapter by yourselves, everyone’ was pathetically drowned out by the rest of the noise. 

Marinette collected her things quickly, needing her exit from the classroom to go off without a hitch, exactly the way she planned it. “I’ve got to go back to my parents’ bakery for lunch,” She said shyly, shrinking into herself as her classmates turned to look at her. “I... Was thinking of bringing some macarons back later. Before I go, though... Lila, is there anything you’re allergic to?” 

“What?” The girl being asked snapped back as a reply, the words leaving her mouth too fast for her to register. Before she knew it, the whole class was staring at her, mouths agape. “I... I mean.” Clearing her throat, the liar plastered on a sweet smile. “What was it, Marinette?” 

“I wanted to bring some macarons back for everyone.” Shyly, the bluenette repeated her plans. “And... Since I’ve been in class with everyone else here for a while, I know their allergies, but not yours. Is there anything you’re allergic to that could be in baked goods?” 

The Italian cursed under her breath— Mari-Brat really wasn’t letting up. The bluenette had made sure to cover any ground that the Italian could use and turn back against her. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m not allergic to anything.” 

Brightening visibly, Marinette nodded, shooting the Italian a smile. “I know things between us aren’t going to get better immediately, but I promise to do my best in fixing things! See you guys after lunch.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila was getting really, really fed up. For the whole morning, she wasn’t able to come up with any reason to blame Marinette. If things kept going at the rate that they were, the class would be fully convinced that the bluenette was a changed woman, and that couldn’t happen. There was, in the end, a downside to having such a gullible bunch of classmates— Sure, they swayed easily to her side, but that meant that they swayed back to Marinette’s just as easily. 

Hissing under her breath, Lila looked up to catch Alya and Nino’s concerned looks. 

No. 

She was Lila Rossi. She was resourceful. She had Gabriel Agreste behind her back. She was powerful. She was not going to let Mari-Brat halt her plans in their tracks ever again. 

“I’m going to go use the bathroom real quick,” She said, excusing herself from the lunch table. Perfect! Now all she had to do was come back in tears, saying that Marinette confronted and mocked her in the bathroom, and the class would be all hers, once again. 

Little did she know that Dupain-Cheng was one teensy step ahead. 

As soon as Lila rounded the corner of the cafeteria, Marinette appeared, having just had a lovely chat with Rose (And Juleka, although it was Rose who did most of the talking). The two were at the front steps of Francois Dupont, having a lovely couple moment that Marinette hated to interrupt— But she needed to have at least a word with them. 

“Rose, Juleka!” Marinette greeted, box of macarons held carefully in her arms, as if it were a box of important jewelry instead of just a box of pastries. “Oh— Rose, is that a new watch? I’ve never seen you wear it before!” 

“Yep, it is!” Rose beamed, delighted that someone (Besides Juleka) had finally noticed it. “Isn’t it pretty?” Indeed it was. The watch in question was a pretty, intricate-looking thing done in rose-gold metal, with a pastel pink leather strap holding it down. The background of the watch face was a white background with a thin film of rose-gold metal, cut to resemble a wall of precious rose vines. 

“It is!” Agreeing wholeheartedly, Marinette offered her classmate a smile. “Oh by the way, what time is it?” 

Rose peered at the watchface, returning the answer with an equally-bright smile. “11.47.” 

“Thank you.” Marinette thanked, continuing her way through the school until she reached the cafeteria. Just before she fell into line of sight, though, she hid behind a wall, peering over the corner until she spotted the table she was looking for. 

Perfect— Lila just walked away. Marinette thanked the gods for all the luck that she was having— Okay, maybe she thanked one god in particular more than the others. Gently, she patted the secret pocket that was sewn into the lining of her blazer— Tikki, who had magic powers, managed to create a miniature ‘room’ inside the secret pocket, with the pocket itself acting as a portal of sorts to the room. After a few seconds, she felt the pocket tap back, managing a small smile of gratitude for her kwami’s constant love and support. 

“Hey, Alya, Nino.” Marinette greeted shyly, box of macarons propped up against her hip. “Where’s... Lila?” She hesitated slightly with her question, acting as if it was a little out-of-place to ask about the Italian girl. 

“She went to the bathroom.” Nino provided, mouth still full of unchewed food. This gifted him with a smack from his girlfriend (“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” she scolded,). 

“Oh, I see.” I definitely see. I know what she’s going to try and pull later— I have to time this properly. Timing is everything. 

Marinette continued to make small talk with the two, whom she had not talked to for a very long time. Much to her surprise, they were very warm and accepting, quite unlike the people who slung slurs and accused her baselessly a few days ago. One morning made all the difference to people who believed anything, she supposed. 

All of a sudden, something in her chest buzzed, as if it were a fire alarm, vibrating in warning— She had to go. “It was nice talking to you guys again.” She admitted, having briefly dipped into a pool of what their friendship used to be like. “But I have to go. I promised Kagami I’d meet her for a few minutes before lunch ended.”

Alya’s eyebrows jumped up comically in surprise. “I didn’t know you still talked to her. I thought you two were… Love rivals.”

“So what if we were love rivals?” Marinette shrugged with a simple smile. “Adrien is… As much as it’s odd to admit, he’s just a boy. Neither of us let him get in between us. He’s just a boy, and it’d be stupid for us to not get along just because we like the same boy. It doesn’t bother Kagami that we used to like the same boy, so why should I let it bother me? Besides,” Marinette tilted her head slightly. “It’d be stupid to give up a great friendship just because of a boy.”

With her last words still hanging in the air, Marinette turned tail and left, walking faster than usual. She had little time left— As she neared the wall that would shield her from the view of the cafeteria, she sped up her footsteps, practically half-sprinting just so she could get out of sight before Lila Rossi returned, looking like someone just killed a puppy in front of her very eyes.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Alya jumped to her feet instantly, reaching out to comfort her best friend, who was moments away from having tears stream down her cheeks.

“I… I thought she’d changed.” Lila sniffled, biting her lip to appear as if she was desperately trying not to cry.

Alya frowned. “Who?”

“Marinette.” Lila stated as if it were obvious, faltering for a moment— Why had Alya bothered to ask? Shouldn’t it come pretty obvious? The liar dismissed the thoughts and continued in her performance. “She threatened me in the bathroom. She… She confronted me and mocked me, saying… Saying that all of you… All of you are idiots for believing that she’s changed. She… She said everything was an act to turn you all against me.”

Nino’s jaw dropped so far that it touched the floor. “Uh… Dudette, are you sure it was Marinette?”

“Yes!” Lila spun to look at him so fast that it was a wonder she didn’t break her neck. “Are… Are you doubting me? Oh my god, it’s working. She’s turning you guys against me. I just want to have friends, I don’t get why she hates me so—”

“You’re… Absolutely sure it was Marinette? You saw her face?” Alya repeated her boyfriend’s words, emphasising each and everyone of them as she looked Lila in the eyes.

“Alya, not you too.” Lila sniffled, tears basically dropping out of her eyes like big, fat droplets of salt water. “It was her— I saw her blazer, it had MDC stitched onto it.”

An uncomfortable silence settled in between the girl and her boyfriend, neither quite knowing what to say. “Oh. I… I see.” Alya said at last, turning back to her food. “Well… Lunch is almost over. Let’s… Let’s get back to class.”

“Marinette just threatened me in the bathroom!” Lila puffed up, clearly upset now. “She mocked me! She called you guys stupid for believing her act!”

“Dudette.” Nino shattered the ice-cold silence at their lunch table, swallowing heavily. “Marinette was with us the whole time you were in the bathroom.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The tension inside the room was so thick that Adrien could cut it with his bare hands. God, what had happened? The day had started off so well— Marinette agreed to be friends with Lila, god bless the girl— But as it turned out, one hurdle folded over only to be towered over by a taller one. 

“Alya—” Lila began tearfully, her pitiful look attracting the sympathy of those who still didn’t know what was going on. 

“You claimed that Marinette threatened you in the bathroom.” Alya interrupted. “While she was with us the whole time in the cafeteria.” 

Faltering, the Italian struggled to find a way to squeeze herself out of the tight spot. “M— Maybe it was someone else.” Reluctantly, she backed out one trap into another one. 

“You said that you were sure! You said that she was wearing a blazer with MDC stitched on it. Marinette was wearing that blazer during lunch!” The reporter shot back, Nino at her side, trying to extinguish the conflicted fire blazing inside Alya’s heart. 

The seeds of doubt had been sewn, and Lila was going to have a tough time weeding them out. “I... I’m sorry!” She burst out into tears, sobbing pitifully in front of the class, most of which were already in attendance. “My lying disease is acting up again. I... I can’t help it. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone!” 

“Uh... Is this a bad time to ask if anyone wants macarons?” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, standing at the front of the room. Her royal blue blazer had been shed, and it now hung over her arm, properly folded into half. Earlier, she had asked Rose for the time to make sure that she had a witness in case Lila tried to pull another act— But as it seemed, the Italian was determined to dig her own grave and all the work had been done. 

The students of Mlle. Bustier’s class shared looks. 

“I’ll... I’ll have one.” Mylene cleared her throat, hoping that it would diffuse the situation. 

“Me too.” Kim followed, not missing the way Marinette flinched slightly at his words. Most of the words he had said to her of late had not been nice at all— But he justified that with the fact that she was being a bully to Lila, like Chloe had been to Marinette herself. 

“Great!” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, slapping on a strained smile. She passed the box to the front row, where Sabrina and Chloe were, gesturing for them to pass the box along until everyone got their fill. 

Internally, Lila seethed, anger burning like a wildfire that tore down every lush sign of life in her path. The girl had never felt that livid in her entire life— Who did Dupain-Cheng think she was, having a change of heart out of nowhere, pretending to play along with those oh-so-innocent eyes of hers? 

“I... I think I know why my disease acted up again,” Lila sniffled, loud enough to gather attention again. Unsure glances passed around like an object that no one wanted, carried from hand to hand forcefully as no one wanted to hold onto it for too long. “It... It must’ve been because of... Of the cardigan that Marinette made me! You must’ve known that...” The Italian squinted at the cardigan on her desk, “... Cotton triggers my lying disease!” 

The bluenette, still passing around macarons, stopped in her tracks. Inside her mind, Marinette was shaking her head, an amused smile on her cheeks. She had to give Lila credit for that one— She would’ve never anticipated that lie from her nemesis. “That’s terrible!” She sucked in a breath, putting on a dismayed look. “I’m really sorry, Lila! I know it seems like I did this on purpose, but I promise I didn’t! To make it up to you, I’ll make you another one.” 

Is she serious right now? Lila scoffed mentally. How long does she plan to keep this going? No matter— She’ll eventually drain herself out and I won’t even have to meddle in this matter. 

Marinette sniffled, collecting the cardigan pitifully from Lila’s desk. “But to prevent future incidents, Lila, I just want you to know that this isn’t made of cotton... It’s made from the highest-quality of star silk, which is incredibly difficult to produce and is rather expensive. It’s such a pity... I thought that only the best of materials would be deserving to be used to make an apology present... I guess you can’t wear it. I’ll just make another copy of the cardigan with some normal-range silk.” Sighing, the bluenette pretended to mull in sadness for a few seconds before an idea struck her. “Alya! You aren’t allergic to star silk, right?” 

The flow of conversation redirected suddenly, with the reporter snapping to attention and nodding eagerly as she realised what was about to happen. 

“Then... Since I’ve spent so long on this, I don’t want it to go to waste... Why don’t you have it, instead?” Offered Marinette with a sweet, shy smile on her face. 

Lila, still caught up in shock by the reveal of the material— Was then slammed with a wall of flaming anger as Alya squealed, coddling the soft, fluffy material that made the cardigan the exquisite product it was. 

“Marinette’s right,” Adrien chipped in with his own two cents, “Father can rarely get his hands on that material— It costs a fortune, and if hand-made... It takes forever.” 

“Oh, I wove the silk by myself,” Marinette added shyly after Adrien’s contribution, “So I apologise if it’s not up to the quality of industry-level star silk.” 

The reporter gushed, still cooing and running her hands over the gorgeous threads of fabric that made up the cloud-like base of the cardigan, eyes sparkling and the details of the embroidery. 

Marinette smiled, returning to her seat without a fuss. The rest of the class continued to pass the pastries around, the perfect description of ‘ignorance is bliss’ as they pretended as if they couldn’t see the way Lila was shaking in anger. Alya, on the other hand, could see nothing but the garment in her hands, her ‘best friend’ having become invisible for the time being. 

Just as well that it turned out this way, Marinette hummed, twirling her pen in hand, Let that be my departing gift to Rena Rouge. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Tomorrow arrived like clockwork, never late and always on time. The crowd of students clamouring by the front of Francois Dupont hushed to silence as they parted for two dark-haired women, both of which were giving off waves of confidence. Simple conversation flowed between the two, who were perfect examples of elegance and grace, their traditional-inspired attire complementing the royal-like aura they had. 

“This dress is really lovely, Marinette,” Kagami smiled gently, admiring the way the fabric flowed around her. The designer had gifted her friend with a maroon-coloured hanfu-inspired dress, complete with hand-sewn embroidery of a golden dragon curled around Kagami’s waist and neck. The dress was completed with a pleated skirt that went all the way to the heels. At first, the fencer was reluctant about the skirt due to the limited maneuverability, but then Marinette revealed that the skirt was very simple to take off as it was just tied around the waist. 

“You look gorgeous in it. It suits you.” Marinette replied, dressed in a similar looking dress. Her hanfu-inspired dress was light pink in colour, with silver threads depicting cranes flying about freely. The pleated skirt was grey in colour, lined with a soft circle of white. 

Kagami blushed slightly. “Thank you.” Briefly, the Japanese girl wondered why on Earth Marinette would go and embroider a dragon onto her dress— Was it purely a coincidence, or...? 

“I’m really glad you decided to transfer here,” Marinette smiled softly, her dark blue bangs framing her face as the rest of it was gathered into a braid that Kagami had helped weave. “It’s going to be nice! I’ll get to see you a lot more often.” 

“We’re in different classes, though.” Frowning, Kagami wondered if she should request a change of homeroom. 

“For now.” The designer winked playfully. “Oh, I have to get to class. See you during lunch?” 

Without waiting for a reply, the blue-eyed girl moved away gracefully, leaving Kagami in confusion. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Good morning,” Marinette greeted gracefully, sweeping into the classroom with her bag over her shoulder and a package in her hands. This package was clearly not as exquisitely-wrapped as the one from the day before, as it was just brown paper and some rough string. 

Alya brightened at the sight of her friend, shrinking away slightly whenever Lila tried to say anything. Sure, the reporter did shake off the initial reaction and respond to whatever her ‘best friend’ said, but the damage had been done. 

“Here’s your new cardigan. It’s made from the same material as your shirt,” Marinette smiled warmly, placing the package on Lila’s table. “It’s a little different from the one I brought yesterday, but I still poured in all my emotions when I made it, so I hope you’ll accept it.” 

Through a gritted smile, the Italian thanked the designer, clenching her fists under the table. That was the second time in two days she had to thank Mari-brat! She swore that if she had to do it again a third time, she was going to slap someone. 

“Oh, Marinette!” Alya called out excitedly, wearing the cardigan that was originally supposed to be Lila’s. “This cardigan is so soft! It’s really amazing to wear! As expected of you, girl!” 

The bluenette stared back at the reporter, wavering for a bit. She had a feeling that Alya wanted something from her... 

“So... I was wondering...” The reporter’s expression turned sheepish, with Marinette’s internal thought-train going ah, there it comes— “Could you remove this and put my name instead?” Alya picked up the corner of the cardigan, pointing to the inside of the garment, where ‘Lila Rossi’ was embroidered on. 

“Ah...” Marinette didn’t even have to fake her nervousness. We already agreed on this, She told herself, No more doing free stuff for people. No more. “Sorry, Alya. My parents need a lot of help in the bakery recently,.. You know how it is! Family always comes first. I’ve already taken out a lot of time to make the cardigan for Lila... And I promised Kagami I’d go out with her this weekend. I’m afraid I don’t have time...” 

There was no missing the way Alya’s face fell instantly. “Couldn’t you put off Kagami for me? Aren’t we best friends?” 

“I thought Lila was your best friend,” Feigning an expression of innocence, Marinette tilted her head slightly. “You shouldn’t go around saying things like that, Alya. You might hurt Lila’s feelings. Besides, a promise is a promise. I wouldn’t want to hurt Kagami’s feelings either. Not to mention— I gave you that cardigan for free. That was two weeks’ worth of hard work. I’m afraid I don’t have the ability to take time out to alter it for free either. If you really want to get it done, you could ask an external tailor to do it for you. I know a few who can do really good embroidery.” 

Alya faltered. “But... We used to be best friends...” 

Snorting mentally, Marinette continued to hold her calm composure. “Like I said, you really shouldn’t say that, Alya. Lila might get upset and we don’t want to hurt her feelings— Right, Adrien?” 

The blonde jumped when the conversation turned to him out of nowhere. All of a sudden, every eye in the classroom was fixed on him. “R— Right, of course.” He said, forcing out each word. 

Satisfied, Marinette nodded, still wearing her ever-so-kind smile. “Exactly.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Hey, why don’t we all go out and have a picnic outside during lunch?” Alya suggested loudly, jumping up as soon as the lunch bell rang. “Marinette, you can come along too!” Something inside the reporter’s chest was stirring, and with the events of the past few days, Alya felt like she just had to quench that unsettling feeling— And the first step to that was to mend things with Marinette, even though it was the bluenette’s fault for always having been biased to Lila. Alya smiled, proud of herself. She would be the bigger person, she would forgive Marinette, she would integrate the designer back into the class again. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Marinette replied just as quickly, “We don’t know what Lila might be allergic to— She could easily trigger a reaction if we go out, especially since it’s spring.” 

A collective choir of groans rounded the class. 

“Well, I’m going to go back to the hotel to have a first-class meal,” Chloe turned her nose up at her classmates. “... Dupain-Cheng, would you like to come?” 

Shock painted the faces of the whole classroom. Did Chloe just... Ask Marinette something... Politely? 

“I’d love to take that offer, Chloe.” Responded the bluenette, graceful and flawless as ever. “Perhaps tomorrow?” 

“Suit yourself. They’re serving lobster today.” Chloe huffed. “If you’re really that busy, then fine. We can discuss...” The Mayor’s daughter trailed off as she blushed. 

The bluenette giggled knowingly. “You’d like to commission a dress from me, right?” 

“... No.” 

“...” 

“... Maybe.” 

“Alright.” Marinette nodded. “Then maybe it’ll be more convenient if I head over to the hotel after school. I’ll need to take your measurements and we can discuss the prices after.” 

“Whatever.” Chloe waved her away haughtily, a poor effort to cover up her embarrassment. “Sabrina. Let’s go.” 

“Chloe?” Alya guffawed. “Why are you commissioning something from Marinette?” 

Rolling her eyes as if Alya had just asked the stupidest question ever, Chloe answered plainly. “Because she’s one of the up-and-rising designers in the industry? Have you seen what Dupain-Cheng is wearing today? Celebrities are already fighting for spots in her commission list. Even my mother and Gabriel Agreste acknowledge her talent. I’m not dumb, Cesaire. I can recognise a future fashion queen when I see one.” 

Wow, Marinette breathed, looking at the stunned faces around the room, Chloe sure knows how to create an impression. 

“W— Well.” Stuttered the reporter after Chloe made her big exit. “Then... What about going to the bakery for lunch?” 

“Didn’t Lila say she saw a rat in the bakery the last time she visited it?” Marinette pointed out. “The health officer checked the surveillance and the claim was dismissed, of course, because my parents make sure the bakery is as hygienic as possible— But I’m sure Lila is traumatised from that incident. I wouldn’t want to force her to come along to the bakery— And we wouldn’t want to leave her out either, right?” 

This elicited another round of groans. 

Oh, I am enjoying myself way too much, Marinette chuckled mentally. 

“Then— Then...” Alya struggled visibly before she was put out of her misery. 

“It’s fine, Alya.” The designer reassured her. “I wouldn’t want to bother Lila. I’m sure she’s still upset at me. You guys go ahead. I have to go back to the bakery to help my parents out. See you guys after!” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Slam! 

Lila fumed, hand still pressed on her locker door. What. The. Hell. Was Mari-brat trying to do? She didn’t miss the way some of her classmates sent her unsatisfactory looks after that pre-lunch stunt that Marinette had pulled. 

And what was the thing about high-and-mighty Chloe commissioning from Marinette? 

Sure, Lila would admit that the cardigan that the designer made was indeed gorgeous, and the fabric was smooth and velvety, a quality unlike any of the clothing that Lila had ever had the privilege to touch— But surely a lowly brat like Dupain-Cheng couldn’t be that popular... Right? 

Dammit, hissed the Italian girl, Maybe I should’ve tried being friends with Mari-brat instead of Cesaire. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Is that... Marinette and Kagami?” Nino gaped, prompting Alya to turn around. It was true— Walking up the steps of Francois Dupont together were the two blue-haired girls, a gentle smile dancing on Kagami’s lips as Marinette talked animatedly, her hands waving around quickly to further elaborate her point. 

Students lounging around the entrance for lunch couldn’t tear their eyes off the two and their matching dresses. Sure, the two girls had walked into school the same way that morning— But now that the afternoon sun was high up in the sky, the golden and silver embroidery was glinting luminously, revealing the true caliber of Marinette’s craft. 

“But... They’re rivals.” Stuttered Alya. She just couldn’t understand... Weren’t they supposed to hate each other? 

“They both like Adrien but they can still get along,” Nino remarked thoughtfully, taking a bite from his sandwich. “So Marinette wasn’t lying about going to meet Kagami yesterday.” 

Alya was silent. 

“Alya? What’s wrong?” Worried, Nino put a hand around his girlfriend’s shoulder, care and concern shining through his honest eyes. 

“If... If Marinette doesn’t get jealous or biased over someone who also likes Adrien...” Alya started quietly, eyes still fixed on the two girls, “Then why was she so against Lila?” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Mlle. Bustier?” The teacher looked up at the voice of her favourite student. Fondly, she smiled. Marinette had finally seen the light and changed her ways, becoming the helpful, generous, kind Marinette that served as a great example for her peers. “May I make an announcement before class ends?” 

“Of course, dear.” Mlle. Bustier gave permission instantly— Marinette was taking up the reins of leadership again! The teacher couldn’t help but do a happy dance internally. 

“I have an announcement to make, so if everyone could listen, I’d be really thankful.” Marinette started, her clear blue eyes meeting those of her classmates. 

She took a deep breath. This is it. I’ve done what I needed to do, now it’s time to finish the job. 

“These past two days... Have been great,” Marinette started wistfully. “I really missed hanging around everyone, just like we did before,” Before you all turned your backs on me and stabbed me when I wasn’t looking, “But I can’t deny— And neither can you— That the things that have happened... They had a really deep impact. And I’ve realised that I can’t just ignore that damage that has been done.” The damage that has been done to me. “So, for the better of everyone— I’ve decided that I... Will transfer classes.” 

It was as if an explosion had gone off in Mlle. Bustier’s classroom. 

“Girl! You can’t do that!” Alya exclaimed in dismay, “We can fix things! Everything has been going well these few days, haven’t they?” 

“Dudette! Honestly, we forgive you.” Nino sighed, “Things just aren’t the same if you’re not here anymore.” 

Adrien didn’t say a word, but the imploring gaze he wore said enough. Please don’t leave me here alone. We promised we’d fight together, right? As long as both of us know... 

Marinette held her hand up to silence them, and the classroom, just as swiftly, became the deadly silence that followed post-disaster. “I understand. But once again, this is for the better,” — Of my mental health, “I’ve talked to Mlle. Mendeliev, and she’s agreed to take me in. I believe that once the changes have taken place, we can all grow more freely without restrictions.” 

In the corner, Mlle. Bustier was tearing up and dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. 

“Mlle. Bustier,” Marinette turned to her teacher, no malice in her eyes. “I’ll be under Mlle. Mendeliev’s care now.” 

“Marinette...” The teacher sobbed quietly, with Chloe shooting her a look of disgust from the front row. 

“It’s not going to be easy for any of us,” Marinette turned back to the class, “But with time, I’m sure we will all prosper. Especially since you will now be under the care of our one and only Lila Rossi.” 

Adrien looked like someone had just killed a puppy in front of him. 

“Since I am the current class president, I thought I’d pass on the duties onto the most capable person in our class.” Marinette explained warmly, never moving her gaze away from the bewildered Lila. “Lila has the most connections in our class out of all of us, and she’s met so many CEOs and entrepreneurs that she must know a lot about organising and planning. I’m sure you can do it, Lila, but...” She paused. “You can handle it, right?” 

“Y— Yeah. Of course.” Lila stuttered. 

“You promised the class that you’d get BTS to perform for the year-end fundraiser since you were supposed to be in an arranged marriage with their youngest member, Jungkook.” Marinette continued, God I am enjoying myself too much honestly, but I ain’t going to stop now, “And you said you could convince your godfather, Bruce Wayne, to allow the class to go to Wayne Enterprises for this year’s class trip.” 

“She said she could convince Tony Hawk to give me an internship, too!” Alix chipped in. 

“And that she’d bring me along the next time Prince Ali asks for her help for a charity cause!” Rose smiled. 

“She said she’d introduce me to the CEO of Graham Films!” Nino’s eyes shone at the idea. 

The class continued to talk all over one another until Marinette silenced them once more. “Now, now. Let’s not overwhelm Lila. We wouldn’t want her to be overworked or to feel like the expectations are set too high, right?” 

The class agreed, nodding along. 

Marinette made eye contact with Lila, offering her a sweet smile as she did so. Lila, on the other hand, had no taste for such politeness. Instead, she straight-out glared at the former class president. 

This is your problem now. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette! I was hoping to catch you before you went home,” Alya panted, having been able to find the bluenette in the locker room before the designer slipped out of her reach. “You... You’re really serious about leaving?” 

“Yeah.” Smiled Marinette, organising her textbooks into her bag, dusting down her skirt. Noticing Alya’s crestfallen expression, she took the initiative to continue the conversation. “Is there anything else, Alya?” 

“Did you... Did you really hate Lila because she liked Adrien, too?” The reporter asked somewhat timidly. 

Marinette giggled. Normally, when the girl giggled, you could hear a gentle tinkling of wind chimes— But at that moment, Alya heard the freezing winds on Mount Everest instead. “Don’t be silly, Alya. All this over a boy? Besides, I’m over him.” 

“Then...” Alya swallowed difficulty. “Lila... Really was lying this whole time?” 

The gaze that swept across the reporter was stone cold, and it made Alya feel as if she was dangling over a valley of jagged rocks. “What do you think, Alya?” Even so, the bluenette maintained a sweet smile. 

“She was. She was lying the whole time.” Alya suddenly felt as if she had a shortness of air. “This whole time—” 

“Oh, good for you. You finally learned how to see further than one feet in front of you.” Marinette hummed. “I’m proud of you, really. But I’m afraid that I don’t have the time to listen to you slowly come to conclusions after I’ve tried making you see sense for the past half a year. I tried to stop you from ruining your futures, but I guess determination was always one of your good traits.” 

Alya slipped to the floor, having lost the feeling in her legs. She placed one hand against the lockers for support as she shook, weakly looking up at the girl who she was once so proud to call her ‘best friend’. 

“Marinette?” Kagami’s voice rang through the room, indicating that the girl was waiting at the doorway. “You said you were heading to Bourgeois’s hotel after school— Would you like a ride?” 

“That’d be nice, Kagami. A moment.” The designer looked down at her friend and smiled, albeit a little sadly this time— And then she lowered her voice. 

“Determination was always one of your good traits.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette,” Adrien perked up at the sight of the bluenette leaving the school doors— Side by side with Kagami, who looked ready to draw a sword and start a duel then and there. 

“This’ll just take a minute, ‘Gami.” Marinette reassured, gently patting her friend’s arm. “Why don’t you get in the car first? It looks like it’s going to rain.” 

Reluctantly, Kagami nodded. “Alright.” Warily, the fencer stepped down the stairs and into the car— But even as she sat in the vehicle, she watched over her fellow bluenette like a hawk, ready to jump out and challenge the blonde if the situation called for it. 

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. Luckily for him, the designer decided to start the conversation. 

“I just wanted to say thank you.” Marinette smiled softly. A few months ago, when she looked at Adrien, she would see the kind, generous, pure-hearted boy with the finest golden hair and the brightest green eyes. Now? All she saw was a spineless, sheltered, passive child that was afraid of confrontations. 

“For what?” Adrien looked at Marinette, and no longer did he see the cute, pigtail-adorning girl that would blush fiercely everytime he tried to talk to her. Instead, he saw a beautiful, young woman, a rock that had pulled through all the odds to become a vibrant, iridescent diamond. 

Marinette was glowing with confidence, her presence diffusing into the air around her and triggering eyes to look up every time she walked by. There was something about the way she held herself that just made the woman demand awe and respect from those that crossed her path. The old ‘Clumsinette’ had been shed like an old snake skin to reveal a treasure, a better version of the bluenette that had always been waiting for her time to come. 

Bluebell eyes met green ones just as rain began to patter down onto the streets of Paris. Marinette glanced up slightly, not at all bothered as she smoothly retrieved an umbrella from her bag, holding it out for the blonde to take. A flush of deja vu burst through Adrien’s veins and through his skin as he took it with a mumbled thanks, eyes blown wide as Marinette let loose her hair from her ponytail, pulling her blazer over her head to avoid getting her head wet. 

Adrien could only gape as Marinette uttered familiar words back to him, a knowing smile dancing across her lips as she ran off into the rain as if an invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders. The bluenette looked lighter, brighter, ready to take flight and soar towards the success that her crops of hard work had finally started to bear. Before the blonde model knew it, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had slipped out of his grip, already spreading her multi-coloured wings to land among the stars. 

“Thank you for telling me to take the high road.”  

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

this was both satisfying and tiring to write... 

[macnevercries]

Champagne and Cake

(Dilf! Bakugou x Chubby F! Reader)

Warnings- oral(receiving), penetrative sex, cream pie, breeding kink, slight daddy kink, age gap, plus sized reader, mentions of alcohol

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Men your age usually don’t go for your body type. 20 something’s have always gone for skinnier girls, at least in your experience. But men in there 30s and 40s? They absolutely adored you. All of your soft curves and plush body, perfect in their eyes. You were used to the attention from the older men, it was a confidence booster but you never considered dating any of them. You always pined for your male friends who didn’t return your feelings. Who knew someone out there would change your mind.

Going out to meet online dates scared you, you were afraid of being catfished or harassed but this one was different. You had been talking for almost a month and he seemed so.. genuine. His personality could be prickly but at least he was being real to himself. You cherished honesty and he gave it to you. He was a little older, but you decided to step out of your comfort zone. Despite his age he was insanely handsome, in fact his age added to his looks.

You slip on a little black dress and kitten heels, getting ready for your date. You don’t remember the last time you had been this excited. And on top of that he was taking you to a real restaurant, not just a coffee shop. This man was full of green flags.

You pass by the mirror and check yourself out one last time before going to grab your purse, even you had to admit you looked good. Your phone dings from the couch and you rush over to get it, tripping a little as you go. Picking up your phone you see a message from your date;

-Can I pick you up at your house? There’s a specific detour on the way back from the restaurant I’d like to show you, it’s a place I love-

You read over his message, a little suspicious but you decide it’s okay. You had been talking for such a long time and you have to admit you’re quite interested in what place he would take you to. You type your address with a smiley face sitting down on your couch. After scrolling through your phone for around 10 minutes you get another text from him and you run to the door, adjusting your hair and grabbing your purse.

You lock your door behind you and dash over to the blonde man, grinning wildly. He chuckles at your excitement, embracing you in a hug as a greeting. You don’t expect it but you hug him back, man does he smell good. You inhale into his shoulder, cedar, spice and caramel filling your nose. You can’t help but nuzzle your face into him a little, quickly pulling back when your realize what you’ve done. You apologize quietly, an embarrassed red flushing your cheeks.

His crimson eyes take you in. He couldn’t help but think how cute you were, a blushing mess, round cheeks and plush thighs showing out of the bottom of your dress. You looked good enough to eat.

-You look gorgeous- he smiles, eyes crinkling at the ends.

Somehow your face manages to get redder -Thank you, you look amazing too-

His pictures don’t do him justice. His spiked blonde hair reminds you of his youthful personality, but his smile lines and wisdom-filled eyes give him away. He’s taller than you, a little tan from years in the sun and broadly built. His shoulders extend far and muscles line his arms, perfectly covered by his well-fit suit that doesn’t leave much to the imagination. He’s more gorgeous than any man you’ve been with.

He takes your hand and opens the passenger side door for you, walking around to get in after you. Such a gentleman, no man your age had ever treated you with such respect.

-Where are we going?- you ask as he pulls out of your driveway.

-A restaurant down town, only the best for a darling like you-

-Katsuki don’t mess around, I meant the ‘detour’ you told me about-

-That’s a secret, it would be no fun if I told you-

You huff, slightly annoyed at his response but still giddy with excitement. He drives calmly, it’s obvious he’s been doing it for years. As you pass through the city he reaches his hand out and places it on top of your thigh.

-Is this okay?- he asks, glancing over at you. You nod a little too quickly, the feeling of his gruff hands on your soft skin a little overwhelming in the best way.

-Good, you’re mine- He squeezes your thigh a little rough and your can only nod, his words going straight to your core.

You pull up to the restaurant and once again he gets out, opening your door and helping you out. You link your arm around his as he leads you into the most elegant place you’ve ever seen. He speaks to the hostess with you at his side, words flow from his lips as smooth as silk and it’s obvious he charms not only you.

You get led to a private table in the back, food already waiting for you.

-I hope you don’t mind that I went ahead and ordered for us, I know the best things here and I wanted you to be able to try them all-

You sit down across from him, mouth open in awe at the presentation in front of you. It looked amazing, a variety of expensive looking dishes almost completely covered the table.

-You did all this for me?-

-Anything for you princess, I love to spoil-

You giggle at his nickname, satisfied with how the date was going. You both dig into the food, exchanging small chatter smoothly as you eat. The atmosphere is romantic and serene, you couldn’t ask for anything better.

Waiters come to collect your plates and bring Bakugou a box and a bottle.

-What’s that?- you smirk, wiggling your eyebrows at him

-Part of the surprise sweetheart-

You fake a pout, grabbing his strong arm again as you leave the restaurant. He sets the box and the bottle in the back, resting his hand on your leg once again as he drives. He drives out of the city and towards the hillside, a beautiful forest surrounding you. You gape at the landscape, you hadn’t explored far out past the city very much and it was so enchanting at sunset. He drives up a hill, parking towards the top near a few trees.

-Can you stay here for a few minutes?-

You whine but nod, not wanting him to leave. He grabs the items from the back and opens the trunk, walking out of your view through the forest. He returns soon, a piece of fabric in his hands. He grabs your arm and locks the car, tucking your hair behind your ears.

-Turn around for me-

You don’t question it when he wraps a blindfold around your eyes, careful with the pressure but making sure you can’t see anything.

-Trust me okay? You’ll love this-

-Mhm, I trust you Katsuki-

You don’t see his smirk, but you can almost tell that it’s there. He leads you through the trees, one of his hands on either of your shoulders, a firm grip that reassures you. He stops suddenly, wrapping his arms around you, hugging you from behind. He slips the fabric off of your eyes and you audibly gasp at the view.

A blanket is in front of you, cake and champagne set out on top of them. Beyond the blanket is the most beautiful sunset, the sky pink and red, clouds blending the colors. Hills beyond it lit up by the soft light. It looks like a painting, it’s perfect.

-This is my favorite place and I wanted to bring you here-

His arms don’t leave you, in fact he squeezes you tighter. You feel so good in his arms, so soft, so comfortable.

-Thank you Katsuki, this is amazing-

-You’re amazing, you deserve this princess-

You turn around and link your arms behind his neck, standing on your tip toes to kiss him. You pull away after a few seconds but he grabs the back of your head, pulling you in for another, hungrier kiss. He eases you down onto the blanket, taking his place above you.

His lips are soft, tongue rough as he swipes it against your mouth, pleading for entrance. Your lips part slightly and he shoves his way in, exploring the caverns of your mouth. You give into him, letting him take care of you. Eventually you part, foreheads pressing together as you pant into his mouth. You can feel him poking your thigh and you raise your eyebrows in question.

-What can I say? You make me feel young again-

You laugh and he grins, caressing your face. He could hold you like this forever. He kisses your cheek, lips, jaw, neck and exposed collarbone, making his way down. He never takes his eyes off you as he pulls on the bottom of your dress, waiting for your nod before continuing. He kisses up your thighs, blushing when he comes face to face with your lacey panties.

-For me?-

-Who else?-

He growls, biting your thigh. You gasp and shove your fingers into his blonde locks, tugging slightly. His calloused hands play with the hem of your panties, pulling them down excruciatingly slow. He finally pulls them off, shoving them into his pocket. He flattens his tongue, licking a long stripe up your dripping slit. You shiver, gushing more slick at the feel of his experienced mouth.

-So wet for me princess-

You can feel the grin in his face as he presses kisses against your slit, a large finger toying with your entrance. Before you can even comprehend the pleasure he has two fingers pumping inside of you and his lips wrapped around your clit, teeth grazing it lightly. Your hips grind up into his face and he uses his free hand to hold you down, a bruising grip holding you still.

His fingers scissor inside of you, exploring your velvet walls until he finds the spot that makes your thighs tremble. He curls his fingers against it and nips your clit, unraveling you below him. He eases you down from your orgasm, slowing his movements and pulling out his fingers. His chin glistens in the fading sunlight.

-Open up-

Fuzzy-minded, you obey without thought. His fingers enter your mouth and you wrap your lips around them, sucking diligently. You taste yourself on his skin, the flavor only making you wetter. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a string of spit connecting them to your lips.

-More, Katsuki, I want more- He chuckles darkly at your plea, a smirk spreading over his face.

-More? I can work with that-

He sits you up, unzipping your dress and tossing it to the side. His practiced hands don’t struggle to unclasp your bra. He does it in seconds, his hands immediately finding purchase on them. You unbutton his dress shirt, fingers tracing his firm muscles. He unbuttons his pants sliding them down quickly and sitting down on the blanket, pulling you on top of him.

He leans into your ear, his voice lower than before

-Ride me-

You don’t have to be told twice, you grab his cock, lining it up with your entrance. He prepped you well so the only burn you feel is pleasurable. You still struggle a little to sink down onto his length, the girth stretching you for all you’re worth. He grabs your hips before you can even move, pounding up into you. You grab his shoulders for support, moans escaping your lips. Your noises make him go quicker, he wants to, needs to hear more. You look amazing above him, the sun down by now but the purple sky illuminates your figure perfectly.

Groans erupt from his chest when you clench around him, spasming and twitching, having come from his cock only.

-Fuck princess you’re doing so good for me, I know you can give me one more-

You shake your head no but that doesn’t stop his hips, he pistons into you, his thumb finding your clit and circling it roughly. You whine loudly, nails leaving crescent marks in his shoulders. The overstimulation is overcome by pleasure as he continues. You can feel yourself nearing the end again, Bakugou’s grunts helping you. He’s doing everything he can not to come, but the blissed out look on your face makes it so hard for him.

-Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up so good, breed that pretty pussy of yours, you’d like that wouldn’t you?-

You slut out a yes, followed by mewls as he gives you the third orgasm of the night. Your entire body is shaking now, and the vice grip you have on his cock brings Katsuki over the edge. He spills his load into you, painting your walls white. You collapse onto his chest, panting and pressing kisses to his jaw.

-Thank you, Daddy-

[rogue-durin-16]

YOU DRIVE ME MAD

Summary: Fred's and Y/n's silly rivalry may have more to do with love than with hate; after a fatal incident, some confessions are made.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa

Warnings: brief mention of violence, blood, language (this seems a lot darker than it is lmao)

A/N: idk man I just love this idiot so here it comes another oneshot. The reader's house is not specified btw. Enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Fred spotted me and walked to stand near me before asking jokingly "On your way to kill a man, Y/n?" Oh, little did he know.

"what is that?!" I exclaimed at the sight of my friend's bruised arm.

"uhm... Nothing."

"who did that to you?" I knew the answer before I even got it. My friend had gone to break up with that Cormac McLaggen the previous night; she had finally listened to us and ended that toxic relationship they had, but apparently she got a souvenir from it.

"It's fine- he didn't mean to- Y/n don't do anything stupid." Too late, I saw red.

"I don't have time for your bullshit, Weasley." I curtly replied bumping his shoulder while I walked past him, making his smile drop in confusion. I never missed the opportunity to start a playful argument with him, but, as I had said, I didn't have time for that.

With the corner of my eye, I saw him joining my friends in the task of trailing after me.

I spotted the bastard chatting with his friends in the middle of the hallway that led to the Great Hall. "Oi, McLaggen!"

"Evening, Y/l/n." That filthy grin vanished from his face when I kicked him in the balls, triggering some gasps from our peers and a grunt of pain from him.

"Listen carefully, you loathsome pig." I leaned over to be eye to eye with him. "If you dare to lay a finger on my friend again— if you even think about it— I'll become your personal nightmare." I stood upright again, his eyes full of hate and rage following my movements. "You don't deserve a bloody warning, but I'm a generous woman." Poison dripped off my tongue, my eyes throwing daggers at him as I stepped back and turned around.

My eyes met Fred's worried ones while I made my way to my friends; they surely had told him enough for the ginger to know this was no time for joking and teasing.

His gaze then flickered behind me with panic and I realized a tad too late I shouldn't have turned my back to McLaggen; at the end of the day, pride overpowered honour in a lot of Gryffindors.

I spun around, grabbing my wand from my pocket, but I wasn't fast enough; before I knew what was happening, Fred was in front of me, serving as a human shield from the jinx.

The unknown spell hit his back and propelled us in my friends' direction. I was quickly on my knees, sitting Fred up and earning a grunt in the process, which I initially thought was caused by the fall. "Are you mental?!" My friend casted an Expelliarmus at the younger Gryffindor, long forgotten due to Fred's actions.

"My back— AH!" He yelped when I tried to pull him up.

"OI!" A first year who had made his way to the first row of students frantically gestured at Fred's back. "He's bleeding!!"

"What?!" I made him lean on me to take a look at his white shirt, now stained with blood. What I thought to be a harmless jinx turned out to be fatal.

"He's not supposed to be bleeding!" Cormac shouted, as panicked as I was.

One of my friends said something about going to look for George while the others shoot off to look for Madam Pomfrey.

"I'm gonna kill him..." Fred mumbled through gritted teeth, his voice shaky and weak. He felt so fragile in my arms, and I couldn't help the tears stinging my eyes.

"Fred—" his hands, which had been gripping my forearms, lost strength as the boy's body relaxed. "For fuck's sake don't fall asleep."

"... 'm trying..."

"FREDDIE!" His twin brother rushed to us, falling on his knees by his brother's side.

"I'm sorry." McLaggen had walked to us, keeping a safe distance.

"YOU'RE DEAD MCLAGGEN!" George stood up before I could stop him. Luckily for everyone, Madam Pomfrey showed up.

"Oh Lord! Mister Weasley, quick! Help me with your brother!" The Healer commanded, and soon they were pulling Fred off my grasp and rushing to the infirmary.

I was left in the middle of the hallway with my friends showering me with worried questions and reassurance.

What the fuck had just happened?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

During dinner, several girls and a couple of boys came to congratulate me for kicking McLaggen's balls, and it would have been a lot more satisfactory if Fred Weasley hadn't stepped in the middle.

As soon as I finished my meal, I headed to the infirmary through the now quiet halls, only to find there were too many people visiting.

Of course, George was there, along with their younger siblings and Lee Jordan, but in front of them stood Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall and none other than Cormac McLaggen himself.

"—already told you it wasn't for you!"

"How is that an apology, Mister McLaggen?" McGonagall scolded him, refraining herself from hitting the boy herself.

"You better fucking run, McLaggen, because the moment I can step out of this bed I swear on Godric I will—"

"Enough, Mister Weasley!" I almost pitied the poor woman. Her House was probably the most problematic. "All of you must go to your dormitories, Mister Weasley needs to rest." I stood on the entrance of the room, unsure of whether I should leave or enter, until Flitwick's eyes landed on my form. He redirected McGonagall's attention to me, and I felt the need of shying away. "Miss Y/l/n," I didn't miss the failed attempt of Fred to move; luckily, he was stopped by his sister. "I suppose you wanted to pay a visit?"

"Uhm... I did, Professor." I confessed, fidgeting with the sleeves of my robe. "I know it's late—"

"Don't take too long." She spoke, motioning everyone to follow her. "Curfew is still at 10." She reminded me in a warning tone, passing by.

As soon as they were out, I made my way to Fred, who lay on his stomach in one of the beds, the sheets only covering his legs an hips in order to avoid the clothing chaffing his damaged skin.

"You have a heart after all, huh?" He teased once I stood in front of him.

"How are you?" He frowned at my genuine question; the ginger surely expected me to make a witty comeback, but again, it didn't seem the time.

"A tad better." He gave me a reassuring half smile, deciding to drop our banter for a night. "Flitwick said he used a stinging jinx but casted it wrong." Fred huffed. "A bloody tosser."

He motioned at the chair behind me and I sat down, scooting closer to the bed. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he had jumped in front of me. It had hit his back, but I knew it was meant to hit my face —what a mess that would have been—, and I couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"It's not on you." I felt my face flaring up at the ease with which he saw through me. I wasn't the first time he did that, but it was the first time he didn't use it to tease me.

"I know, I just—" I sighed. "I don't know." Though my sight was casted down, I still felt his worried gaze on me. "I'm gonna murder him."

"I reckon George will overtake us both on that." He tried to laugh but ended up in a since instead. "Or Gin. Maybe they'll team up with Ron and we'll find a corpse in the Gryffindor common room tomorrow." This time it was me who laughed. "How's your friend?"

"She'll be alright." I informed, distracting myself with a loose string at the hem of my skirt.

"And you?" I met his eyes with a hum leaving my mouth. "How are you?"

"Been better." I confessed.

Silence.

"Can you pass me the water?" I nodded, holding the glass in front of him and putting the straw in his mouth so he could take a couple of sips. "Thanks."

"No worries."

Silence again.

"Did you eat something?"

He scrunched his nose. "Not really."

"I'll go grab something from the kitchens." I didn't get far before his long fingers wrapped around my wrist.

"I'd rather have you here keeping my company." I then sat down again, his fingers only leaving my wrist to intertwin with mines. "I'm not hungry anyway."

More silence.

"Your hand is really soft." I reckon those words involuntarily escaped his lips by the way his eyes widened. "I don't know why I said that."

"Yours is too, surprisingly."

"Surprisingly?" He quirked an eyebrow at me, and I didn't quite realise what his grin was about until I spoke again.

"I imagined they'd be more rough." Oh no. "That came out wrong— I meant—"

"That you've imagined what my hands would feel like?" He was trying to bite back a laugh at the way my face turned red.

"No!"

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Liar."

There we went again; the white flag was out.

"Fuck you."

"Please." My cheeks turned even redder, and I wanted to think it was because of the anger. "You look really cute when you blush."

"You look really cute when you keep your mouth shut."

"Then shut me, love." He wiggled his brows at me.

"I would, but I don't wanna punch you in this state."

"You're very agressive." He pointed out, shocked that I didn't get what he was implying. "I meant with a kiss."

"Ew-" I pretended to gag. "no!"

He tugged on my hand and pulled me to my knees falling right in front of his eyes with our faces inches away. "C'mon Y/l/n, we're dragging this on now." His eyes kept falling on my mouth after I had unconsciously chewed on my lower lip.

"We're... We're not dragging on anything." I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince him or myself.

"Do you want me to start? Alright, you drive me mad." He forced his gaze to be fixed on mine. "You're annoying, rude and a pain in the arse." I huffed. "But you're also quick-witted and caring and brave." Gosh I hated how easily he made me blush. "Sometimes I want to punch you in that pretty face of yours but other times— most of the times— all I wanna do is kiss you." His thumb caressed the back of my hand. "Hell, I threw myself between you and that blonker without thinking twice!"

He raised his eyebrows, silently prompting me to say something, but I just didn't know what to say.

"Miss Y/l/n," Madam Pomfrey called, making me let go of Fred's hand an stood up. "It's almost ten o'clock! Let Mister Weasley rest." I nodded, not even looking in Fred's direction as I exited the infirmary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRED'S P. O. V.

The morning after the incident, Dean and Neville dragged in an unrecognisable McLaggen; they were probably the only ones who cared about that bloke enough to take him to Madam Pomfrey, though they did it half-heartedly.

I was discharged after three days in, right before lunch, and obviously, I was received as a hero; several people came to praise my bravery or ask how I was feeling, but I just wanted to see one person.

That night in the infirmary I was sure she felt the same way —hell, I had been sure for a couple of months— but after seeing her reaction, I didn't really know anymore.

I could always tell her it was a prank, and we would go back to our usual bickering. "Weasley!" Shit. "Fred!" She specified when the four of us turned at the call of our surname, almost jogging in my direction. "Can we talk?"

"Go ahead, darling." I prompted her without moving from my seat.

"In private?"

"Nah," I begged Godric for her not to see behind my grin the panic that produced me the mere thought of being left alone with her.

"Are you joking?" She huffed and, after taking a deep breath, she spoke. I wasn't expecting her to speak. "So you see, you're cheeky and stupid and not nearly as funny as you think." Ginny spit her pumpkin juice due to Y/n's harsh words. "but I... ugh! Okay— I want to kiss you too."

This time it was Ron who choked on his drink. "What's going on?"

"I feel like we missed an important part of this conversation." George commented.

This time it was Y/n who awaited for an answer. "This is literally the most embarrassing thing ever, so at least say something." She commanded in a rather rude tone, tapping her shoe against the floor.

I winced ever so slightly at the effort of getting up, but it was worth it when I saw her expression as I towered her; I reckon I had never seen her that sheepish before.

"That's a really mean way of saying you're attracted to me." I observed, quirking a brow at her. "Dunno why I fancy you so much."

"Well that makes the two of us." I couldn't help but chuckle at her attitude before cupping her cheeks and bring her lips to mine.

Finally.

Despite being a short, innocent kiss, was enough to make us both blush and grin like idiots.

"Awww" I rolled my eyes at my twin's mockery, knowing damn well I wouldn't hear the end of it.

"Why do I feel like I'm gonna miss you two being at each other's throat?" I couldn't care less about Ron's question as Y/n pulled me down for another kiss.

Almost bleeding to death seemed worth it in that moment.

[cyarikaaa]

Stupid Girl

masterlist

pairings: karli morgenthau x female! reader

requested by anon: I was wondering if you could do a Karli Morgenthau x female reader where the reader gets captured by john walker and is questioned for her relation to Karli.

word count: 1,103

warning(s): kidnapping, lots of talk about blood!! descriptions of violence + gore but a little fluff to make up for it at the end <3

a/n: how to cope with the death of karli 101. also if you'd like to check out the music i was listening to while writing this click here

+ thank you to @frostedfavesmain for being my beta reader much love to you!!

You wished you could've gone back to how things were last night. You and Karli had snuggled under some spare dirty sheets offered to you by the owner's of the safe house the Flag Smashers, you included, were staying at.

You're so stupid. You should have taken that stupid serum when you had the chance. Maybe if you had, you wouldn't be here, wherever you were.

As you came to, it was dark, the smell of blood floated through the air. You didn't know whose it was but suspected it was yours, your shirt felt suspiciously damp. You squinted, barely making out the silhouette of a figure that was coming closer to where you lay on the ground. The cold metal around your wrists that chained you to the pole stung while your headache threatened to split your head open.

"Good morning," the dark figure seethed loudly causing your ears to ring.

Suddenly, you remembered everything. You had gone out to get more medical supplies, Karli had insisted that she should tag along just in case but you had been stubborn.

"You're the one who's wanted here, not me, I'm just a medic. No one will notice, I promise," you had insisted, while she hugged you tight, and Karli had finally relented letting you wander into town alone.

One thing had led to another, and now you were stuck in a dark room with John Walker.

"You disgust me," you spat out, attempting to break free of your bonds while he just sneered at your pain. "You're no Captain America, and you never will be, you murderer!" you snarled. You must've hit a nerve, because as soon as you finished that last sentence he grabbed you by the shirt and slapped you hard across the face.

"I don't want to hear a word from you, unless you want to end up dead like your little friend. I know what you mean to Karli," Walker growled angrily.

"And what is that?" you mocked, your eyes adjusting to the dark. He held his bloody shield on one arm, the other fisted your shirt. You could smell the stench of sweat and blood on him, you tried to twist out of his grasp but was unsuccessful.

Where was Karli? You were sure she would be able to tell you were missing by now, the amount of blood, your blood, that was on the floor most likely meant you had been here for a couple hours, possibly even a day or two.

"Are you not listening to me you stupid girl?" he snapped, his voice echoing while the veins on his forehead were now clearly visible. He shook with anger, and you knew you had made a mistake. Expecting for him to hurt you, you were shocked when instead, he took a step back towards the wall and took a deep breath, "I'll give you one more chance before I ruin that pretty face of yours."

Your act was up, you both knew it. Either you gave him the information he wanted, or you too would end up dead. "What do you want?"

"Let's start off with something easy. Who are you?" he questioned while pacing through the room. Every once in a while he would tense up and shake it off. The serum.

After a moment of silence he repeated his question again, angrier this time, "I asked, who are you!"

You stuttered, "A m-medic. I'm not important." You knew it was wishful thinking, but maybe he would let you go once he realized just how unimportant you were.

"No," he interrupted your thoughts, "You're not telling me everything." He stopped his pacing and looked at you, "Sure, you don't matter to the cause. But what about Morgenthau?"

"What about her?" you chose your next words carefully, "What are you insinuating? I barely know her, she keeps to herself most of the time."

"Do you think I'm stupid, girl?" Walker was evidently done as he stepped closer to where you were, "I gave you another chance, guess you just lost it." He continued to shout as his face got redder, "You're here so I can avenge Lamar. You remember him don't you?"

"I-" you began to say only to be interrupted.

"Shut it. I don't want to hear another word. Unlike Karli, at least I gave you some mercy. But now, I'll be able to hit her where it hurts," he swore as he grabbed you, "An eye for an eye."

You couldn't speak, too scared as you watched him grab his shield, and aware of just how much your body ached. You hoped he'd at least make it quick, but as he brought down the shield a gunshot rang out.

You didn't realize you had closed your eyes until they suddenly opened. You took a breath in, "Karli?"

"Morgenthau!" bellowed Walker, as he dropped your body on to the ground and turned around to attack the masked woman. You watched as she, and several other Flag Smashers attacked him from different positions, the serum not being of much help to him now.

As soon as she was confident the others had him handled, she quickly ran over to you and got to work freeing you from your restraints. The red head watched as you attempted to step forward, but instead fumbled, too weak to walk on your own. Instantly swooping you into her arms, "Hey, hey! Don't fall asleep on me now," she scolded as your eyes threatened to close.

You looked up at her and sighed, "'M not. Just resting my eyes."

"No, I know that trick," groaned Karli, "Y'know I basically invented that line."

You let out a broken sounding laugh at that. "Now you're my medic." She laughed at that as you mentally recalled the countless times she had tried to assure you that she was just "resting her eyes" after many failed missions.

"A shit one, to be fair," Karli said as she kissed your forehead. When she finally found her way outside, she refused to put you down. You squinted as the sun hit your eyes, the stench of blood and sweat finally starting to disappear from the air.

As your eyes adjusted to the sign you got a good look at her, her eyes were red and blood stained her jacket, yet her hair still somehow looked perfect and was glowing in the sunlight.

"What'd he do to you?" she murmured as you tried to reach her forehead to smooth out the lines between her brows.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," you assured her. "I'll be okay, we'll be okay."

[ladyelainehilfur]

Wishmaker, man...I don't even know what to tell you, that was a perfect episode.

Highlights:

Banana Man wanted to be a cucumber 😭 wtf is this show even

Alec is RuPaul

HOLY CRAP LUKA KNOWS BOTH THEIR IDENTITIES HOLY MOTHER OF SWEET CHILDREN WHAT THE HECK

THE MFKING COMMUNICATION WAS SO GOOD marinette and Adrien were actually talking to each other and shiz 😭💕💕💕

Luka being best boy and bringing them together and helping them through their emotions <////3

Luka playing the violin 🙏 what a talented king

We got a full Viperion transformation, the Luka stans are WINNING

"But crocodiles can swim" this episode was so funny, I was HOLLERING (very literally)

"I'm gonna be Luka's best friend" 😭😭😭 this is even better than them dating I'm so happy y'all

I've missed the English dub so much. Marinette's voice actor, my beloved. Take my hand in marriage. You do my girl justice.

This episode, right here, is the crack I signed up for. The teamwork between these three was just right, the Adrien angst, the jokes.

Yessssssssssss this season has been fire

And I don't even care anymore, Adrien's literally a sentimonster. It's undeniable at this point. The flags could not be bigger and redder.

[ohhipstaplease]

idk if you're still doing prompts but nh + fluff 15? I'm sorry about all the fluff pieces but I live for fluff 😅

I’m sorry if it isn’t as fluffy as usual but I HAD to write something Team 8 centric to soothe my soul today. I can see this turning into a full fanfic though...at some point (I promise)

Fluff #15: “She’s/he’s not my boyfriend!”

After Hinata confesses to Naruto—and her “I love you” goes right over his head—Kiba takes matters into his hands to (finally) get the two idiots together.

Post Pain-Arc | Canon Divergence | Jealous (!) Naruto | Ao3

“You look cute today,” Kiba said nonchalantly to his teammate as she walked towards him. 

The Hyuga beauty had uncharacteristically pulled her hair up onto the top of her head in a high ponytail, her delicate features now on display for the world to see.

Hinata, already used to Kiba’s compliments, didn’t bat an eye when he said it, she simply responded, “Thank you! I just wanted to try something a little different,” She patted Akamaru’s head in greeting, the gentle giant licking her palm as she giggled.

Kiba took the opportunity to sneak up behind her and pull on her ponytail slightly, wanting to fix the slight hairs that were sticking out. He adjusted the simple lavender tie she had placed upon the top of it for good measure as well. 

Had anyone happened upon the pair, they probably would have thought there was more between them than a simple friendship, but they were used to it. Hinata didn’t even try to push him off, she simply let him fix her hair and looked up at him with a thankful smile when he was finished.

They were meeting up to have lunch, a much needed distraction after all the chaos that had ensued in the village during Pain’s attack. Unfortunately Shino was unable to join the pair for a well-deserved day off, leaving them to their own devices.

Kiba nodded as he stepped back and appreciated his work, “I like it. I’m sure Naruto will too,” He smirked.

She exhaled, her cheeks red and splotchy, “We’re not going to let it go, are we?”

“Hinata, you confessed to him.”

“It was in the middle of battle...spur of the moment,” She tried, suddenly regretting admitting to Kiba and Shino that she had, in fact, told the love of her life, Naruto Uzumaki, her true feelings for him. She knew they’d never let it go, not until Naruto gave her an answer either way. 

She just wasn’t ready to hear what he had to say. Even if he was ready to face what she had said to him head-on, “Besides,” she mumbled, “he didn’t even acknowledge it...”

“You told him you loved him...you literally died for him. How could the idiot not see it?”

She shrugged pathetically, “It is what it is, don’t worry, Kiba.”

He sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets when suddenly it hit him. An idea so genius, even Shino had to approve. Akamaru, sensing that Kiba was about to say something Shino would in fact not approve of, whined and hit his master gently on his leg with his paw. 

Kiba ignored him, knowing that what he had in mind was just too perfect not to share, “Hinata?”

“Yes?”

“What if...what if we made Naruto jealous? Just to make him see what he’s missing.”

“W-what?”

“It’s the oldest trick in the book, Hyuga,” He took her hand into his as if he had done it millions of times before, “We go on a fake date, act all cute and shit, and when he sees us together he’ll magically realize his feelings for you. You know, because someone else has what he thought was his and all that bullshit?”

“You’re insane.”

“I know what boys are like, Hinata.”

She looked down at their interlaced fingers and sighed, “You’re sure this will work?”

“If it doesn’t, I’ll pay for lunch.”

“And dessert?”

“As many cinnamon rolls as your heart desires.”

Hinata exhaled and nodded, “Alright. I mean, there’s nothing left to lose, right?”

“That’s the spirit!” 

Kiba led Hinata forward, Akamaru following close behind. He was sure his plan was going to work, after all, he barely had enough to cover his portion of lunch. That alone should have proved how confident Kiba was that he’d get Naruto and Hinata to finally acknowledge their feelings for each other. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Okay, just follow my lead,” Kiba said as he spotted Naruto at his usual stool at Ichiraku. 

“Naruto! How are you? Healing up okay?” Kiba asked as he sat down next to the blonde, his hand still in Hinata’s.

Naruto squinted at them, tilting his head, “I-I’m fine. Thanks for asking...”

“That’s good to hear, we all deserve some time off after that mess, right Hinata?”

Hinata didn’t dare meet Naruto’s gaze, simply nodded and pretended as if he wasn’t even there. 

“Two bowls of pork miso ramen, please!” Akamaru barked and Kiba smiled down at him, “Oh right, it’s a special occasion. Make that three bowls!”

“Special occasion?” Naruto asked.

“Nothing you have to worry about, just celebrating a certain someone saying yes to a question I asked,” He said, looking at Hinata.

Naruto’s cheeks grew redder by the second as he studied them, “W-what?”

“I asked Hinata to be my girlfriend,” Kiba said, holding up her hand in his, “And she said yes.” He roughly pulled her into his embrace and pressed his cheek to hers, “Isn’t it great?”

Akamaru groaned behind the three, trying to ignore what was happening before him. It was getting a little too painful to watch. Kiba had never been known for his tact after all.

“So you two...are...dating?”

Hinata tried to interject, feeling sick over everything that was unfolding, “N-no we-” 

Kiba quickly slapped a hand over Hinata’s mouth and laughed, “Yeah! I confessed to her right after we got back to the village. I mean, it just seemed to be the right time and all, considering everything that happened.”

Naruto let out a breath and instead of continuing the conversation further, he flagged down Teuchi, “Old man, how much do I owe you?”

Teuchi quickly put up a hand and waved Naruto off, “Oh, no, we could never charge the village hero. Not after everything. Consider it on the house.”

Naruto nodded solemnly, gave a glance Kiba and Hinata’s way, and quickly turned to leave.

“Kiba!” Hinata said in a panic, “That definitely couldn’t have been a part of your plan!”

Kiba huffed, “Yeah...I didn’t think he’d just walk away like that. Maybe we need to try a different-”

Hinata ignored Kiba and decided to take matters into her own hands, what she should have done in the first place, really.

She got up from her seat, a flustered mess, and chased after Naruto. She screamed out without thinking, “Naruto-Kun!”

His head turned immediately towards her, his brow furrowed in confusion, “Hinata?”

“Naruto-” She panted, attempting to catch her breath as she caught up to him. 

“What are you doing? Aren’t you on...” He took a breath as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, a pout playing upon his lips, “Aren’t you on a date with your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” She yelled out, a little too passionately.

Naruto stifled a laugh at how ridiculously cute she looked. Her ponytail was slightly askew, her cheeks flushed and her lips ridiculously red from her biting her bottom lip. He had been biding his time since he had returned from the village, waiting to approach Hinata and talk about everything that had happened. About what she had said to him.

“Then why did he...”

Hinata sighed, so clearly embarrassed for going along with it. But...she quickly realized that Naruto was...jealous? She could see it in his eyes, the way he acted back at Ichiraku. He was clearly bothered by what had happened. Kiba was actually...right.

So she gathered her courage and firmly asked, “Why do you care?”

“Huh?”

“Whether or not Kiba and I are dating....why do you care?”

Naruto furrowed his brow, “I don’t, I-I just,” He groaned, “Hinata, it doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter!”

“Why!?”

“I told you I loved you!”

Naruto looked at her wide-eyed, clearly in shock. Of course he knew she had confessed her feelings, but...they were also in the middle of a battle. He thought that...that maybe it wasn’t true. It was an adrenaline-fueled confession that she would walk back the moment they got back. That maybe...maybe she meant she loved him like she loved her teammates. That he was her precious friend, just as Sakura and Sasuke were his. He never imagined in his wildest dreams that the girl he’d always taken notice of always wanted to protect had been watching him too. That he’d grow to want to take care of her, to ensure she was okay. He didn’t know what that meant then, but he did now.

He didn’t understand his feelings until that day, in the midst of battle, and it killed him to think it took them nearly dying for him to comprehend that what he felt for her was far greater than friendship. 

“I-I know...” He managed to mutter, “It was just such a crazy day, Hinata. I thought that maybe I misheard you, or that you didn’t mean it in the way you did. I didn’t want to embarrass you by bringing it up again. I mean...we haven’t even talked since we got back.”

“Then let’s talk,” She said, looking down and shyly placing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I-I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

Naruto grabbed the same hand Kiba had intertwined in his earlier, and claimed it as his, protectively interlacing his fingers in hers and squeezing her hand for good measure. 

It wasn’t like with Kiba at all, Hinata realized. Her heartbeat was out of time, her knees felt weak. Feeling Naruto under her touch was nearly too much for her to handle.

“Oh..um...” Naruto blushed as he met her gaze, “I really like your hair up, you know?”

“O-oh,” She smiled as she looked away, unable to look at him head on.

“It’s really cute.”

“T-thank you.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, of course. Um, why don’t we go get something sweet, yeah? We can talk at the tea shop?”

“Okay.”

The pair, hands still intertwined, walked toward the tea shop, a blush upon each of their faces.

Kiba, watching from outside Ichiraku, smiled to himself as he said to Akamaru, “See boy, it all went exactly as I said it would. Didn’t it? Next thing you know, we’ll be helping Hinata pick out a wedding dress.”

Akamaru rolled his eyes and continued eating from the offered bowl of ramen. It was better to let Kiba think he had won this round.

“Ah, first love,” Kiba sighed dreamily as he sat back down on his stool, “I can’t wait to see it all play out.”

[sunshine-stars]

Deja vu

Flynn remembers some of her happy memories with Carrie. Then they see her Instagram posts with Kayla doing the same things.

Inspired by Deja vu by Olivia Rodrigo

Word count: 2707

Car rides to Malibu

“We’re going to Malibu? That’s awesome!” Julie exclaimes.

Carrie laughs a little. “Yeah, my Dad has to meet with some business people there and didn’t want to leave me alone so he invited you guys too.”

Flynn’s over the moon. They’ve been to Malibu a few times, most of them with Carrie and Julie, and it’s always so much fun. It’s about an hour one way and it means that they have a little road trip, which is always more than a little chaotic.

“You know I’m in,” Flynn answers, smiling. Julie agrees and they make plans to go the next day, after asking both of their parents.

“You’re stealing all of the sour keys! How dare you?” Flynn yells at Carrie. She knows that they’re her favourites and she’s eating them all, the traitor.

Carrie huffs. “Only because you’ve already eaten half of them and I want some too!” Her lips are slightly stained green and Flynn can’t help but look at them. They’re probably so soft.

“You’re just lucky that the green one’s aren’t as good as the orange one’s, or else I’d have to kill you,” Flynn replies after a beat too long.

Julie takes a sour key and between bites says, “You’re both wrong, the purple one’s are the best.”

“Of course you think so little miss purple,” Carrie teases.

Julie gasps. “Hey! Flynn’s the shortest, not me!”

“How did we get back to this?!” Flynn groans. “Weren’t we just talking about how Carrie’s a thief?”

“I am not! You’re the hoarder, you made me take them. Besides you being the shortest is so cute and fun.” Carrie raises an eyebrow with an evil little smile.

She’s obviously trying to get on Flynn’s nerves, and she’s succeeding, but why does Flynn’s heart speed up when she calls them cute? Why does her mind go blank for a second as they feel very happy?

She shakes her head a little to steady themself. “You do realize that you’re stuck in a metal box with me, right? Where I could kill you and no one would know. So I suggest you shut your mouth before I make you.”

Carrie coughs a little as her face goes slightly pink. Julie’s just looking knowingly at both of them. What just happened?

Carrie’s Dad turns around in his seat to look exasperatedly at them, though there’s a little smile on his face. “Settle down kiddos. Flynn please don’t kill my daughter, I love her. Carrie please don’t try to aggravate Flynn. Also why can’t you all just share the sour keys? You all like different flavours.”

“Because once Flynn finishes all of the orange one’s she eats all of mine and Carrie’s,” Julie responds like something weird didn’t just happen.

“It’s not my fault that there’s always less orange one’s! It’s not fair! Why aren’t you also telling off Julie she participated in this?” Flynn frustratedly and loudly says.

Carrie’s Dad sighs. “Julie wasn’t yelling and trying to annoy you two. Why do you and Care bear always get into silly arguments?”

Julie mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like, “It’s because these two idiots are in love with each other and won’t admit it.”

Flynn glares at her, but she just flashes her perfect little angel smile. Julie’s so sweet that no one expects her to be a little devil, it’s stupid.

Flynn suddenly realizes that Carrie has been very quiet. They turn to look at her and she gasps. There’s only one sour key left… and it’s an orange one.

“Bubblegum, Pinky Pie, Sappho, lollipop, sweetheart, love of my life can I please please have the last sour key?” Flynn quickly rambles.

They just have to get the last one and she’s not above begging for it. So what if her begging includes calling people sweet pet names to bribe them, and so what if they do it more with Carrie? It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a coincidence, right?

Carrie looks down and avoids their eyes, her cheeks turning even redder than before. Is she okay? Why has she been acting strange? Flynn has no idea, but they hope for the best.

“Well since you asked so nicely, soda pop.” Carrie hands her the sour key. If Flynn didn’t know any better they’d say she was flustered, but that can’t be right.

Flynn flashes Carrie a wide smile as they start to eat the delicious treat.

Strawberry ice cream, one spoon for two

“You said you didn’t want any ice cream.” Carrie crosses her arms and glares at Flynn.

“That was before I saw how good it looks, and I love strawberry. It’s like the best flavour and it reminds me of you.”

Julie sighs and looks at them disapprovingly, but also slightly amused. “Flynn honey, you said you didn’t want any because your stomach hurt from all those sour keys. Ice cream will only make it a lot worse.”

“I’m feeling better now,” Flynn argues. “Besides now that I want it it’s all that I’ll be thinking about. Do you really want me to be constantly thinking about and bugging you for ice cream? I have seven sodas all the time. It's fine.”

Flynn may have a massive sweet tooth, but how can she not when it tastes so good.

“That’s not healthy and I still don’t like it,” Julie scolds.

Flynn just shrugs in response. “Okay, mom.”

Julie throws her hands up in the air and Flynn turns back to Carrie with pleading eyes.

Carrie just sighs and passes it over. “You’re lucky I like you, babe.”

“I know, sweetie.” Flynn thanks the universe for it everyday. They have no idea where they’d be without Carrie, and frankly, they don’t want to know.

Flynn ignores the fluttering in her chest as they take a bite of the strawberry ice cream and almost moans. The cold sweet fruity taste is so refreshing on this warm day.

It’s a shame she has to share it with Carrie, they want it all to themselves. The thing is that Flynn would do anything for Carrie. Sharing ice cream with her is the least they can do for this truly amazing girl who somehow loves her.

And trading jackets

Carrie wraps her arms around herself. “This ice cream is making me cold.”

Well that’s not allowed. Carrie is this warm ray of sunshine in Flynn’s life and she’s just not allowed to be cold. Not when Flynn’s wearing a perfectly good jacket.

“Here take mine.” Flynn passes it to her with a smile.

It’s their jean jacket that has a bunch of patches and embroidery that Flynn either bought or made. There are lesbian and nonbinary flags that they all put on together after she came out, along with a hundred other things that all have a special meaning. It’s precious to her. If it were anyone else they’d be hesitant about letting someone wear it, but it’s Carrie, it’s a no brainer.

Carrie looks up at them, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. “Are you sure?” She has a hesitant and caring look on her face. She knows just how much Flynn loves the jacket.

“Of course, Sappho.”

Carrie smiles softly as she puts the jacket on. Flynn has to catch her breath. She’s wearing their jacket and she almost explodes.

For a second Flynn wishes that they were dating. That she was giving their girlfriend her favourite jacket. That she could wrap her arms around Carrie, kiss her perfect lips, and ramble about how gorgeous she looks and how her wearing their jacket makes her feel so happy. It’d be something out of one of those cheesy rom coms that they watch to make fun of, but secretly like.

Flynn’s daydream is interrupted by Julie’s laugh.

Laughin’ ‘bout how small it looks on you

“It’s so small on you,” Julie says between giggles.

Flynn looks at it again and sure enough it’s too small for Carrie. They’ve had it a couple years so it’s a little small on Flynn, but it’s too sentimental to throw out and it still fits. On Carrie the sleeves come up a bit too much above her wrists and she can’t really button it up.

It should be something for Flynn to laugh at like Julie, but it almost adds to the charm of Carrie wearing their jacket. The imperfections make it real. Besides, perfection never lasts. Robert Frost said “Nothing gold can stay,” but this isn’t gold. It’s as precious as it, but maybe, just maybe, this can last. This moment, their friendship, hopefully it can stay.

Watching reruns of Glee

“Seriously? Why is Rachel always in the spotlight? The rest of them have good voices too,” Flynn complains. Their legs are thrown over Carrie’s lap as they watch a random episode of Glee

Carrie scoffs. “I have no idea. I’m passionate about being a singer, but I’m not that self absorbed. You don’t always need to be the lead.” She leans back on the couch more. “Besides, I can sing better than her.”

Bein’ annoying

“Not self absorbed, huh?” Flynn teases.

They know that Carrie has an absolutely angelic voice that they’re constantly in awe of. She can definitely sing better than Rachel and she’d fight anyone who disagrees. It’s just that teasing Carrie is so much fun. Basically half of their relationship is bickering with each other. Julie says they act like a married couple, but she always sees stuff that isn’t there.

“Shut up.” Carrie moves Flynn’s leg off of her.

Flynn gasps and looks at Carrie with a horrified expression. “How dare you?! Do you not love me anymore?! Betrayal of the highest order! Dishonour! Dishonour on your whole family! Dishonour on you! Dishonour on your cow! I can’t even look at you right now. My heart… it hurts.” They dramatically turn away from her and sigh, acting hurt.

Flynn doesn’t even have to look at Carrie to know that she’s looking at them with an exasperated expression on her pretty face. After a minute she feels a body lay on top of them.

“Can you please stop being such a drama queen? Of course I love you, you idiot,” Carrie says quietly into their ear.

At that moment Flynn realizes just how close Carrie is to her. She’s pressed up against them and her face is literally a breath away from theirs. She has to fight not to get flustered at the fact that this gorgeous girl is oh so close to them and how they are so aware of her every little movement.

Flynn swallows. “Says you, and what happened to babe?” It’s the best thing she can come up with at the moment.

“You’re still the love of my life, soda pop, but when you’re being a bit of an idiot I’m gonna call you an idiot. It’s how it works hun.”

Carrie can’t just say that. Especially not when she’s this close to Flynn who feels like they’re going to combust. It’s just not fair how she doesn’t have a single coherent thought in their mind. Her brain cells have decided to go on vacation to leave her speechless, which they very rarely are.

Flynn doesn’t even bother to wittily respond, partially because she can’t, so they just half watch the episode of Glee that’s still playing and enjoys the moment.

Singin’ in harmony

“For the last time bubblegum, I can rap, but I can’t sing.”

“Come on, at least try. You can’t possibly be as bad as you think,” Carrie pleads as the sun sets around them, painting the world a soft pink.

Carrie looks breathtaking in this glow against the pink sky. Pink has always been her colour. The shade doesn’t even matter, anytime she wears pink Flynn just has to do a double take. Not that she doesn’t look incredible in everything else, pink just kind of enhances it even more.

“You’ve heard me sing, pinky. Don’t act like you haven’t. You know it’s terrible.” Flynn walks slightly faster. If they keep looking at Carrie against the beautiful sky she’d do anything she asks.

Carrie puts a hand on their shoulder, making them stop for a moment. “Yeah, but I can’t remember the last time I heard you sing that wasn’t just singing terribly on purpose to random songs on the radio. Please, I promise I won’t make fun of you.” She just looks so genuine as she says those soft words. It’s enough to make Flynn fall head over heels for her once more, but really, she does that every second they’re with her.

“Maybe later. We’ll try to sing in harmony together.” Flynn takes Carrie’s hand. “Let’s go watch the sunset by the ocean.

Carrie smiles widely and Flynn automatically does the same

I bet she’s bragging to all her friends , sayin’ how you’re so unique

Unfortunately, Flynn never got the chance to sing in harmony with Carrie.

Flynn told herself she wouldn’t look at Carrie’s Instagram, but they just couldn’t help it. She misses her so much and it’s better than nothing, right? Plus Carrie hasn’t blocked them, and Flynn hasn’t either.

There’s a picture of Carrie and Kayla in Carrie’s Dad’s car. They’re both smiling and looking at the camera and eating some kind of snack, but Flynn can’t quite tell what. The caption says that they’re on a road trip to Malibu.

The next post shows Carrie and Kayla sharing strawberry ice cream at an ice cream shop in Malibu, there’s only one spoon. Carrie is wearing Kayla’s beautiful trademark purple jacket.

A picture of them watching an episode of Glee, both sprawled out on the couch together. They’re smiling widely and just look so happy.

Then a post of the two of them posing at sunset, the sky a soft pink that makes Carrie look angelic.

So when you gonna tell her that we did that too?

Carrie did all that with Flynn. They carry the memories so close to her heart. They mean so much to them. They’re a reminder of how it was before, when it was good, when they were all happy.

Now she’s doing all that with someone else. Flynn’s not jealous, but they don’t understand how Carrie’s able to do all of this. Flynn can barely think of road trips, strawberry ice cream, her favourite jean jacket, watching glee, and pink sunsets without being overwhelmed with her feelings and memories of Carrie.

She thinks it’s special, but it’s all reused

Flynn can’t help but wonder if Carrie does all of these things with her friends. She’s obviously allowed to, but Flynn kind of thought she was special. They thought that maybe there was something else there. That maybe their feelings weren’t completely one sided, but that doesn’t matter anymore.

That was our place, I found it first

They both found that ice cream place in Malibu with Julie. It became a tradition to go there every time they went on a road trip there with Carrie’s Dad. It was important to them.

That post hurts slightly more than the rest. Flynn saw that place the first time they went to Malibu and dragged them all in. They wish she could go there again with Carrie, but that’ll never happen. Not after… everything.

I made the jokes you tell to her when she’s with you

Do you get deja vu when she’s with you?

Carrie has to get deja vu when she’s with Kayla, right? She can’t have just forgotten everything they’ve done together. Their entire friendship.

They were as close as could be for years, and now they’re nothing. The girl she knew and loved isn’t quite there anymore. Now she’s been replaced by mean comments and rude looks. Flynn hopes that they can get back to where they were, but it’s not likely.

Do you get deja vu?

Flynn gets deja vu when looking at her posts. She gets a sudden wave of nostalgia and wants to look through her closet to see her favourite jacket and all of their clothes that are connected to memories of Carrie.

Their friendship was as precious as gold, but just like in the poem, it didn’t stay.

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