#i gotta quit blanking :(

[on-stolen-sunbeams]

doomscrolling through rate my prof and either multivariable's gonna suck or it's gonna feel a lot like learning from my dad.

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

*don't go to grad school out of spite, don't go to grad school out of spite, do NOT go to GRAD SCHOOL out of SPITE!!!*

[sysig]

I'm almost finished with this notebook with it's horrible paper, and I just finished the first page of my Big Project

[xhopelesslyromanticx]

A birkin bag for Y/n - Lando Norris x Horner! Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: sexual references, swearing, mentions of alcohol

summary: When Y/n‘s situationship gifts her a really expensive bag seemingly out of the blue it causes quite the talk in the paddock. Little does she know he‘s just trying to show everyone who she belongs to. (Inspired by the famous birkin bag scene in Gilmore Girls)

Lando was intrigued with you from day one. Literally from the get go. He remembers the first time he had bumped into you in the halls of his close friends home. He clearly remembers every second despite being hungover from the night before.

Your hands were jam packed with all kinds of crafting supplies that shattered on the ground, crayons spilling everywhere.

„Ah shit!“ the sleepy guy exclaimed as a small hand immediately slapped his shoulder. He looked at your face in shock. He was violently hungover from his late night celebraions with a certain three time world champion yet he had never seen such a beautiful thing.

„Shh!“ you whispered, him raising his brows questiongly „Penelope could hear you!“

Lando chuckled, as you started picking up all the crayons. He kneeled down grabbing some as well. He knew your face was somehow familiar. He couldn’t quite place it though. The freckles, the dimples and that hair.

„Babysitter?“ he asked mustering your face.

„Sort of.“ you nodded, shooting him an innocent yet friendly smile „Family friend.“

He hands you a blue crayon with a grin. You knew the grin probably made any girl weak in the knees and judging from the blonde woman you and little Penelope had watched stumble out of his room this morning while munching on your cereal, he knew as well.

„Well nice to meet you nanny.“

You cringe at the name before rolling your eyes „Nice to meet you to Lando.“

Lando had loved that. You hadn’t acted like you didnt know his name. You just didn’t care enough to pretend to ask. You smiled again before licking your lips and getting up. Hearing Penelope call your name. Y/n. What a name. He eatched you stumble away on that day, knowing he wanted to get to know you.

And he did. He learned very quickly,that you were in fact Horners daughter. Which was of course to his luck, because Christian loved him. So he showed up at family hosted events, made some apparences in the red bull motor home and before he knew it you spent the night at his.

Well it wasn‘t that easy. He had to do some convincing. But god Lando loved kissing you. He was addicted to it in fact. In every corner, whenever noone was watching his lips were on yours as he pressed you against the walls.

„Someone could see.“ you mumbled against his soft lips, slightly pressing your palms against his broad chest. Having to control youraelf from giving in.

„I don’t care.“ he chuckled his hands under your shirt rather quickly.

It was always like this. Sneaking around, yet most of the grid was aware off the little fling. But Lando had told you quite blank from day one; he didn’t do boyfriend and girlfriend. And having gotten out of a longer realitionship just months prior you were okay with that. You could do it, you thought. And it was fun for a minute. Exciting and new.

„No strings.“ you held out your little finger snd Lando rolled his eyes at the childish gesture. But he interwined his pinky with yours anyway after some hesitation. Laying on his hotelroom bed with your body next to his.

„No strings.“ he nodded. You smiled waiting for the next words before you raised your brows.

„You gotta say it.“ you exclaimed gesturing to your interwined hands.

„I don‘t want to.“ he groaned, his body pressing against yours as he was hovere above you.

„Okay.“ you nodded before turning around and crossing your arms „Then no sex.“

Lando chuckled pulling you into his body as he inhaled your scent „Fine.“

You smiled waiting to hear the words escape his lips as he pressed his lips against the crook of your neck „I pinky promise.“

Months passed like that. And it was fun for a moment. But reality eventually creeped back up. And as you were sat at brunch at your dads house back in England, having scrolled through endless pictures of Lando celebrating his podium in Silverstone the day prior. Including pictures of him with countless women. But you knew it was no fair. He could do whatever he wanted. Yet you somehow had gotten the sense that he maybe wasn’t sleeping around like that anymore. After all, you two saw eachother almost every week at least very two weeks. You just thought maybe it was heading somewhere, but clearly its wasn‘t.

It had been so easy. Life had been good. You had an internship at a sports paper back in Monaco. You were studying to be a journalist, meaning you weren’t necessairily location bound. And it allowed you to attend races. Which allowed you to see Lando. But not this race. You hsd promised Lando you‘d make it but cancelled last minute as you had to attend some stupid event in Monte Carlo. You had watched the race on the toilet, your phone in your hands the whole night. God you had been so proud once he had finished that crossing line. If only he knew how important he was to you. You think you might even have screamed a little when it was over. And of course you had immediately texted him. „Plan A babyyyy! so proud of you Lan, kisses and see you soon xx“

But there hadn‘t been any response. And seeing the pictures from the whole ordeal over the weekend you now understood why. While you had sat on the plan, still wearing your gown from the event he had been out and fooled around with lord knows who. You knew you had no right to be jealous or something. But you weren’t even jealous. You were just dissapointed, having expexted to be a little more important than that. But Lando was a player. He didn‘t do boyfriend/girlfriend.

You were so lost in your thoughts, not even having heard the front door open. Starkng at the perfectly arranged flowers your stepmom had on the wooden table. The whole house and every corner was so perfect, it made you think about how your dad really had a great woman by his side. She had made this place a home. Something it truly hadn’t been growing up there.

„Well good morning sweetheart!“ your fathers voice appeared behind you as your dad walked into the dining room where the brunch had been prepared.

Max and Kelly following behind him, having all drove out here to get some time off. The countryside the perfect place to do so. No people who‘d recognize you, not even in the little town nearby. And even if they did, they truly didn‘t care enough to bother you.

„Dad.“ you smiled getting up and hugging your father tightly, your arms wrapping stound his taller figure. Your dad quite suprised by the affectionate hug, as he held you close for some seconds; He immediately knew. From the second he saw you staring blankly at that wall just before to this desperate hug, something was wrong. He watched you greet everyone else with a somehow fake smile, including Max and Kelly who both hadn‘t seen you in some time as your job was keeping you really busy.

„What are you even doing back home?“ your dad later asked as everyone was eating.

„Well, I was suprised to to see her stumble in here this morning.“ Geri, your stepmom chuckled.

Max mustering you. He knew, he had seen the pictures. Well he had been there. Having told Lando if he was aware of the cameras on him as he was pushing his tounge down some girls throat. He even told some people to delete the photos. But people were drunk, plus Lando was famous. A deadly combination.

„What about Y/n, Lando?“

Max knew you two weren’t exactly offical. He had no idea what kind of realitionshipi it was. But he had seen you two. It was evident you both had feelings for eachother. So this was just stupid. It would hurt both of you. Especially you and Max thought of you like a little sister.

„Why should I care?“ Lando groaned sounding extremly cocky, making Max wanna puke. Lando scrunched his nose before he pushed past the dutch guy who just stood there baffled.

Now seeing your puffy eyes looking at everyone at the table. Max knew; you had seen the stupid pictures. You probably had flown out to England for Lando. And Lando had been an absolute idiot the past 24 hours.

„I wanted to suprise you.“ you whispered, lying to your dad. But your dad wasn’t stupid, he knew it probably had to do with a certain british boy who you seemingly had befriended ove the past few months. He had his concerns but you were a grown woman, he knew he shouldn’t get inbetween anything.So he just smiled before nodding „Well that’s nice. I‘m certainly surprised honey.“

The week passed quick. You spent some time with your siblings and Max and Kelly before saying your goodbyes again. Telling your dad you‘d see him in Hungary.

„Come to London please.“ You couldnt believe it. After three whole days of zero contact he had finally texted you. He didn‘t ask yet he clearly saw your instagram story showing you were back home. You wanted to text him, be mad and tell him how hurt you were. But you weren’t like this. Your weekend with your patents had made you realize you haf been raised better. Maybe you had lied to yourself. Maybe you couldn‘t do no strings attached. Maybe having standards was a good thing.

So you didn‘t respond. You told him a couple of days later; „sorry was busy, see you in hungary.“

It was the weekend before the Grand Prix you attended yet another absoluetly jam packed Gala event in Monaco. You were luckily not gonna be important next to all the stars and socialites there. So you put on some regular black dress, did your own hair and makeup before getting an uber there.

The evening was rather dull. But you‘d have to report on it for the paper next week so you had to stay for every second. You saw a couple if familiar faces, talked to some old family friends before admiring the beautiful hotel the thing was hosted at. The big chandeliers sparkling so brightly, you were bound to be mesmerized. It was then as you grabbed yet another glass of champagne when you turned around bumping into some guys chest.

„Oh. I‘m sorry!“ you exclaimed looking up at the familiar face. The blonde hair sitting ever so perfectly as the tailored suit sat on his broad shoulders. The tall guy shooting you a sly grin „You‘re fine my love dont worry.“

„Logan.“ you chuckled. Having seen the rookie a couple of times at least. But never really having spoken to him.

„Hello there.“ he waved awkwardly before induldging you in some small talk.

Logan was nice guy. Despite the internet making fun of him for his very american ways he was nice and polite. It started as nice chatters but somehow you two ended up at a corner at the empty bar, downing glass after glass of whatever alcoholic beverage the american ordered.

„So weird seeing you without Norris.“ he eventually bound up saying.

You scrunched your nose, a thing you always did but even more when you were drunk. If there was botox for that you might as well start young.

„Why is that weird?“ you giggle, your words coming out slower than usual as you kick your heels against the legs of the bar chair. Playing with the rim of your already empty champagne glass.

Logan looks down at you, seeing you nervously bounce your legs. He licks his lips, and if you weren‘t shitfaced you would have gotten the ick a long time ago. The guy was so obviously trying to flirt with you. Something you hated. Well except when Lando did it.

„Ah, I don‘t know I just thought he was your boyfriend?“

You burst out into laughter, causing some of the last people in there to look at you. Women being loud, something people clearly hated or were at least severly triggered by.

„What‘s so funny?“ Logan blushed looking around, kind of embarassed by the eyes on you. Lando would never be embarrassed. Yeah well Landos laugh was also way louder than yours.

„See…“ you catch your breath, before rolling your eyes and playfully punching his shoulder „Norris doesn’t do girlfriend boyfriend or boyfirend girfriend silly!“

Logan chuckled before his hand was placed on your upper thigh. It was like he had waited to hear that. It came so quick and at the most obvious time. The american guy leaned in towards you before whispering into your ear „You wanna head home?“

He smelled weird. No he actually smelled fine. He just didn’t smell like Lando. Lando smelled so perfect. Like your favorite smell ever.

Your heart ached for a second. This probably was good right? You had to do the whole multiple people thing. Lando was doing it. So you also had to.

„Why not?“

So you walked out the place with the blonde american. Not looking back once. Only what you didn‘t notice as you stumbled down the stairs with your heels in your hands was that, Arthur Leclerc who was Charles brother and Oscars best friend had waited for his girfriend outside when he spotted a very tipsy you get in a car with none other that Logan Sargeant.

The week passed rather quick and before you knew it you were sat on a plane towards Hungary. You were gonna arrive just in time for Qualifying. Heading straight from the airport to the paddock, having to change into a appropriate outfit at the airport toilet. Again. Low point.

It was a long taxi drive later that you made your way into the paddock, holding your recorder and noteclips. What you hadn’t known strutting, in there in your still perfectly white suit that could have used some ironing but no one’s perfect, that you actually had been the talk of the grid over the past two days.

Arthur Leclerc had a loose mouth. He had immediately texted Charles asking if Y/n Horner wasn’t involved with Lando Norris anymore. To which the older Leclerc responded that as far as he knew Lando and Y/n were somehow together all the time but not really exclusive. When Arthur dished the tea to him later the next day that he had seen you and Sargeant looking rather cozy with one another Charles immediately texted Carlos asking if there was trouble in heaven. The boys just loved gossip. And we all know who Carlos is best friends with.

On press day the ferrari driver asked his former teammate, right after getting of the panel „So Y/n’s really not as goody two shoes as we thought huh?“

Lando looked at him confused, he had just spent four days figuring what he had done to seemingly piss you off. No messages, the way you had stayed with your dad when you had promisef him to come to London. He missed you. He just couldn‘ admit that. No strings right? Plus he didn’t do boyfriend girlfriend.

„What do you mean? What about her?“

„Yeah well…“ Carlos chuckled awkwardly now spotting the very hot topic off his rumor talking to Oscar in the corner of the waiting room. Logan was showing Oscar something on his phone while the two youngest guys on the track waited for their turn to do interviews.

„Carlos, I don‘t have all day.“ Lando groaned, punching his friends shoulder „What about Y/n?“

Carlos contemplated for a second. He knew Lando was acting like he had no feelings for you but Carlos knew exactly that wasn‘t the case. He had after all been the one dragging the brit home after the silverstone afterparty. And the whole drive to the hotel the young Mclaren driver kept on talking about you and everything about you and everything about your looks and so on.

„Her eyes. Her hair, the way she scrunches her nose when shes confused.“ Lando slurred his head on Carlos lap as he was about to pass out „Y/n‘s just great. She- She is girlfriend material.“

„So Charles told me that Arthur told him. That last Saturday at some sort of Gala in Monaco, he spotted Y/n leaving with another driver…“

„What!“ Lando yelled immediately , causing everyone to look at him. Carlos hand covered his mouth, stopping him from screaming the place down. Shooting everyone an awkward smile as they continued their own thing with raised eyebrows.

„Shh!“ Carlos whispered as Lando looked at him in fury before removing the hand from his mouth.

„Don’t tell me to shush! Who the fuck did she leave with!“ he whisper yelled, and Carlos sighed. He really didn’t want any bad blood in between the grid to start because of him so he knew he couldn’t tell names:

„Well, Lando you two aren’t official so you dont really have the right to get mad at her.“ Carlos explained trying to sound reasonable. But Lando just raised his eyebrows holding up his hands clearly acting innocent as a lamb.

„Hold on! I‘m not mad at her! Im mad at whoever thinks its okay to take something that clearly belongs to me!“

Carlos chuckled. His friend sounded like a little kid in preschool who‘s toy was stolen. Guess that’s what love does to you „Lando first of all no one really knows if you two are offical or not…“

„I don‘t have to be offical with her, she‘s off limits for any other driver and they know it.“ he argues back and it actually makes so much sense in his head. Much more sense than it does to Carlos at least „If you don’t actually your car, I‘ll still never juste drive it.“

„But Y/n‘s not some bag Lando. You cant actually own her-„

„Thats it!“ Lando smiled and Carlos looked rather confused. He musters his seemingly insane friend who looked like he had just found the answer to lifes most profound question.

„What?“

„Im gonna get her a bag.“

You had just arrived at some food stand, grabbing a coffee and a bagle when a hand grabbed yours. You turned around looking up at the beautiful curly haired guy. Landos eyes looked at you as he had a huge grin on his face „Hey baby.“

„Lan.“ you stated, rather suprised by the bubbly greeting. Last time you had checked both of you were ignoring one another. But Lando didn‘t even give you any time, he put his hand on your back before guiding you towards the mclaren motorhome like he was on some sort of mission.

„What are you doing?“ you chuckled as he pulled you past security who grabbed your bagle and coffee as it was not allowed to bring food from outside. Rude. You looked Lando up and down as you followed him. He was already in race gear probably having to go on track any minute now.

The young guy didn’t say a word he just pulled you into his drivers room closing the door behind him quickly. Before he immediately smashes his lips against yours leaving you no choice but kiss him back. After a while you come to your senses as you push him off you “What‘s going on Lan?“

You missed this. But you weren’t naive, he was acting like you hadn‘t completely had zero contact over the last two weeks. Like he hadn’t ignored you for days after Silverstone. Lando pressed his lips together, his hands still on your waist. He looked like he was contemplating to say something but then shook his head.

„Baby.“ he whispered, his fingers digging into the material of your white blazer.

„Yes?“ you asked sounding rather hopeful. Maybe youw two were actually gonna talk for once.

Lando looked into your eyes before taking a deep breath „I got you something.“

He what? The brit now turned around and you looked at him dumbfounded. He walked over to the cabinet pulling out an orange paper bag. You furrowed your brows. Not understanding what on earth he was doing. He got you a present?

„Here.“ the brown haired handed you the big bag and you looked at him confused.

„It‘s not my birthday yet.“ you stated knowing your birthday was coming up soon. Maybe he had remembered wrong, wouldn’t be a suprise as he seemingly didn’t care where you had been the last two weeks.

„I know but just open it!“ he chuckled, sounding like an excited little boy. You can’t help but giggle nodding as you walk towards the table. You place the bag down pulling out an orange cotton bag. You look at Lando still lost before pulling out the inside. Holding a rathe big snd bright pink leather bag in your hand.

You scrunch your nose „A purse?“

„You dont like it?“ Lando looks panicked and you get even more confused. He sighs rubbing his face „I thought pink was your favorite color.“

„No it’s nice! Really nice!“ you admit looking at the bag „Im just confused why you got me a- a bag? I mean i know im a girl, and I love bags but why..“

„It‘s not just any bag.“ he chuckles, only now realizing you had no idea what you were holding in your hands. He forgot you actually grew up with only a father. This could be amusing.

„What is it then? A special bag?“

„Ah forget it.“ Lando shrugged it off, kissing your cheek . This maybe was actually good. If you didn’t know what the bag meant you‘d go parade it in front of everyone which was exactly what Lando wanted. This bag would surely keep anyone away „I hope you like it baby.“

„I love it Lan!“ you smiled, before tiptoeing and kissing his cheeks. In all honesty the bag was nice but you had still no idea why he‘d just gift you some purse. But you figured it was his way of aplogizing or somethingand you really had no time to discuss the matter at that moment „If you excuse me now I gotta go show everyone my new bag and you have to go race. Good luck!“

Lando couldnt believe it. His plan had sorta backfired. But in the weirdest most unexpected way. He was stunned as he watched you strutting away with your new bag in one hand as you grabbed your coffe on your way out. This could be fun.

Kelly was watching her boyfriend qualifying from the redbull garage as she noticed you walk up to her. The dark haired woman smiled talking off her headphones „Y/n!“

„Kells!“ you embraced her in a hug. You two catch up a little and you just wanna ask Kelly about Little P when her eyes fall onto the bright pink thing in your hand. Kelly raised her eyebrows staring at it“Wow does your internship suddenly pay that much?“

„What?“ you chuckled, noticing her eyes on your bag. You pull it up swinging it around a little before wiggling your eyebrows „Oh, this?“

You roll your eyes turning it around „It‘ a pretty nice bag right?“

Kelly looks at you a little stunned „Nice?“

„You dont like it?“ you ask mustering the older woman „Well you won’t believe this but Lando got me this, totally random!“

„Lando got you a birkin!“ Kelly now yelled covering her mouth in shock as everyone started to look at the two of you. It was then that your step mom appeared from the backroom, taking off her own headset. Looking at Kelly and than at you snd than the very pink bag in your hand.

„That’s what it‘s called?“ you scrunched your nose before chuckling„Its apparently a special purse.“

„Who got you this?“ Geri now asked looking utterly confused at the very beauty you were holding in your hands. She had seen her share of beautiful birkins but this was next level. You grew more confused by the second as people were suddenly hovered around you, well especially women.

„Well- Hello to you to.“ you say rolling your eyes „It‘s just a bag girls. Lando got me it and it was so weird, it was completly out of the blue!“

„Just a bag?“ Geri asked, looking at Kelly unbelievingly „Y/n thats a very nice purse!“

„Oh.“ you state, raising your eyebrows „Maybe I shouldn’t use it then?“

„Oh no, A birkin bag is meant to be used honey!“ Geri chuckled, and Kelly can’t help but laugh along still absolutely shocked„Max never got me a birkin bag.“

„Whatever.“ you now shrug not knowing how a bag could be such a big deal. The two women continue their jokes before you walk around and take off. You had work to do after all. You muster your bag one last time. A birkin bag. Whatever that was. You should probably google it later.

Talk of the bright pink birkin bag that had been gifter by the very Lando Norris spread like water. Soon everyone knew about the most expensive hermes bag being given to a certain young journalist who was parading it like she had zero idea what it was. Well, that was actually the truth. Even instagram had their fieldday seeing you enter Mclarens motorhomes with Lando and leaving it with a pink birkin.

But you were too busy to notice. You only noticed the stared from every woman passing you and the fact that even some of the drivers started whispering and pointing at you whenever you passed them.

When Carlos bumped into you and noticed the little thing in your hand he immediately wanted to slap Lando. He Couldn’t believe the young guy thad actually pulled through with the utter insane plan. He had watched the guy make five hundred calls the day prior. If he had known what kinda bag he was on the hunt for, he‘d probably tell him to forget it.

„Max!“ Carlos yelled running up to the dutch driver, Max turning around „Yes?

„Did you see what he did?“ Carlos asked completely out of breath. Max raised his eyebrows taking a sip of his water in his Red Bull bottle.

„Who did what?“ Max asked, looking at the spanish ferrari driver.

„Lando.“ he stated and Max ju shrugged his shoulders, completely oblivious to the gossip that had been circulating all day„He bought her a birkin bag!“

„Who?“

„Y/n!“

„That little sly fuck!“ Max cussed, not actually believing what he was hearing. Everyone knew what gifting a birkin to a woman means. It‘s like putting a lock on her. It could be only described as some sort of pre proposal, letting every guy know: she is in fact off limits and you better back off.

„He couldnt ask her out normally huh?“ Max laughed shaking his head, grinning at the thought of the young brit.

„No. It‘s Lando. Typical Lando.“

On race day you decided you had enough for once and for all from the stares shot your way every second you walked through the paddock. The bag was pretty yes, but people were surely acting like it was a god. You walked into the redbulm garage approaching Kelly who was stood there with Max and your dad.

„Guys!“ they all stared at you as you looked at them in frustration.

„What the hell is the deal with this stupid purse!“ you held up the thing once again and your dad looked at you suprised while Max chuckles. There‘s a moment of silence before your father crosses his arms, raising his eyebrows.

„It‘s hideous?“ Christian asked. Max and Kelly looking at both of you stunned.

„Dad!“ you punched him with the bag as he laughed like an evil witch. He always made fun of your clothes so this wasn’t personal.

„Y/n!“ Kelly yells before the panicked women reaches out to garv the bag out of you hands like it was a child in need. She wrapped her arms around it protectively looking at you in fury. Meanwhile you look at her like she’s the one that’s lost her mind and so does your dad.

„What the-„

„Okay Christian.“ Max took a deep breath, looking at Kelly who was looking at him in desperation. Silently begging him to put an end to her misery of watching you treat a birkin like that„You may wanna take a seat for this.“

„Bullocks.“ Christian chuckled raising his eyebrows as you looked at Max confused. What was everyone’s problem?

„Well, this bag.“ Max ponited at the thing in Kellys hand and you looked at him exceptingly „It’s a birkin bag. And Lando gave it to you? Right Y/n?“

You slowly nodded, your dad already confused on why Lando would even buy you a bag in the first place. You weren’t that serious, right?

„Well its a forty thousand dollar bag. At least.“ Kelly now stated.

You felt like your heart stopped beating „A what?“

„Why?“ your dad now looks at you putting two and two together „Why does Norris gift you a forty thousand dollar bag Y/n?“

„I- Uhm.“

„I don’t know?“ you lied, before going to grab the bag from Kelly’s hand. Your dad throwing daggers at you. Realizing his daughter actually isn’t as innocent as she seems. You grin awkwardly „If you excuse me now. I gotta go!“

You wahtched the race from the stands, figuring you‘d be safest there as you tried to grasp the sheer fact that Lando had actually bought you a bag that cost more than all your other bags combined. And god you didn’t even say thank you really. But you also truly didn’t understand why he‘d do something so insane. This was serious. You don‘t gift bags like this to your situationship. After a long day you finally headed back to the hotel. Texting Lando to come to your room to talk on your way there.

You were getting ready to out to dinner with your family when a knock appeared at your door. In nothing but yout bathrobe you went to open the door expecting it to be Lando only to be met with a certain american guy lean against your doorframe „Howdy.“

„Logan.“ your eyes were wide open as he looked you up and down with a sly grin.

„Greetings.“ god he was unbarebale when not drunk. You look at the taller guy an awkward grin plastered on your lips.

„What do you want?“ you asked and you knew it sounded quite rude. But you quite honestly didn’t care because Lando could show up any second and you didn’t exactly want him to find you here with Logan.

„I wanna talk.“ He speaks as he pushes past you. You watch him enter your room. Well he was persistent.

„Well, now really is a bad time.“ you stated gesturing to your soaking wet hair and bathrobe. He really had to leave.

„How so?“

„Well, to be quite frank.“ but you couldnt finish it because a second later the door opened behind you. You shut your eyes knowing exactly who that was and how this was gonna look for you. Lando walks in fully dressed for the night, spotting you stand there in your bathrobe, your back turned towards him and in the room none other than. What? Logan? Really?

„What the fuck is he doing here.“ Lando asked not even acknowledging Logans presence. Great. Could anything go your way. You sighed turning around and looking at him „Lan…“

„I‘m here to pick her up for dinner.“ Logan states crossing his arms. You turn back around. He was not serious. „What?“

„Excuse me?“ Lando hissed, clearly already getting worked up about the fact that the Williams driver had the audacity to show up here after he had clearly made sure the whole paddock knew you were his. The birkin had done his job. People had already texted him congratulations on the realitionship.

„Yes remember, we made the plans last week when I came to your place?“ Logan asks you, quite literally doing it on purpose. You knew he was doing it on purpose.

„So hold on!“ Lando grabbed your shoulde and you turned around to look at his pissed off expression „He‘s the other driver?“

„The other what?“ you exclaimed being quite lost. Logan just chuckling, he had heard that Lando was trying scare someone off, apparently it was him. It mad Logan chuckle, surely you wouldn’t be so easy right?

„Last week you left an event with another driver!“ Lando hissed, pointing at the blonde american whi stood there with a cocky smile “It was him?“

„Yes.“ Logan grinned and you knew if he wanted Lando to punch him he was almost there. The brit had a short temper for stuff like this.

„Wait!“ you now yelled turning your attention towards Lando only „How do you know that!“

„Arthur saw you.“ Lando hissed, looking at you with a digusted expression. He starts to pace up and down the room and you roll your eyes at the dramatics.

„Lando calm down!“

„He’sinsane.“ Logan chuckled, shaking his head „Thinking he can put dibs on girl with some freaking bag just because he‘s too stupid to ask her out.“

„Logan!“ you now sighed , pointing at the door „Leave!“

Logan looks at you unamused but seeing you were serious. He rolls his eyes before pushing past you and leaving your room. Slamming tbe door shut on his way out, causing you to flinch as you stare at Lando who‘s looking like some maniac.

„Jesus!“ you sighed.

„Did you have s*x with him?“ Lando asked, blurting it out without hesitation but scared of the answer. You looked at him completely lost on what gave him that idea. Arthur for sure wasn’t a reliable source. Noted.

„What if I did Lando? We agreed on no strings!“ you tried to reason with him. The whole bag thing and him acting all jealous. It made zero sense „Its not like you weren‘t the one who was partying with a million girls after Silverstone.“

„Because I was mad at you!“ Lando now yelled. He really hated to admit this. He hated talking. He‘d rather buy you a million birkins but he knew his words were now needed.

„For what?“

„For not being there. You knew how important it was for me!“

„Lando I had to work!“ you sighed, still lost on how this all made sense „Thats why you slept with other women? Because you missed me?“

„I didn‘t sleep with anyone!“ he now defensed himself. You take a step back raising your brows as you realize you had been foolish.

„But the pictures?“

„Yes I made out with some of them. Im not proud. But I went home with Carlos.“ he sighed, looking at your smaller frame „And I got you that bag hoping you‘d forgive me for that. Well I also got it to scare the competition off.“

„Why didnt you say anything?“

„The bag speaks for itself or so I thought.“ he shakes his head „Only I forgot you aren’t like every other girl.“

„Lan.“ you smiled weakly, approaching him and putting your hand against his face „It‘s a nice bag. But unfortunately you will have to take it back because baby, forty thousand dollars? Thats ridiculous!“

Lando chuckled knowing how insane he sounded. He looked down at you „It was fifty thousand actually. I was trying compete with the other driver. If had known it was Sargeant I‘d gotten you something cheaper trust me.“

You can’t help but laugh „You’re mean!“

„No but seriously? He’s american!“ Lando said his voice all high pitched.

„I know.“ you. giggle, shaking your head „I didn’t t sleep with him tough baby. So you can take the bag back and buy yourself a car.

„Oh thank god!“ Lando sighed in relief his whole body relaxing. God he could be dramatic.

„I thought I was gonna have to pull an exorcism to get that thought out of my head.“

„Well we kissed.“ you smirk „So theres your exorcism.“

Lando fake gags and you punch his shoulder. Before wrapping your arms around his neck. Tugging on his curls. You look into his beautiful eyes, and he smiles down at you.

„So this no strings thing.“ he mumbles, biting the inside of his cheek. You feel your heart flutter as he comes down and kisses your lips softly his hand on your chin. He smiles „Its really just silly isn‘t it?“

You giggle „It is silly baby.“

„Okay from now on its strings baby.“ he states his hands wrapping around you body.

„Oh-„ you look at him with a scrunched nose „You might wanna skip that and go do boyfriend girlfriend right away.“

„Why?“

„Mhm…“ you sighed „Pretty sure my dad knows we had s*x.“

„What?!“ his eyes are wide open „How?“

„The stupid-„ you start but he interrupts you with raised brows.

„Birkin Bag.“

[tojipie]

mma fighter toji? (im so happy tk see that you’re back btw ❤️)

i really do think this is the best ask i’ve ever gotten pls feel proud of ur brain before u go to bed tonight bc ily. wrote this on the verge of falling asleep if u see any spelling error no u did not.

mma fighter!toji x reader | 1k words

content: violence, injury, blood, reader objectified by stranger

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“you got it, you got—don’t fucking look at her, look at me fushiguro!” your boyfriend’s manager yells, holding a bucket to the younger man’s heaving chest with a sigh.

toji nods at the command, taking a swig of water and spitting into the vessel before wiping his mouth with an ungloved hand. fighters never drank in the ring, it’d only settle heavy in your stomach. make you easier to catch.

blood and saliva drip down his chin and onto the floor of the ring, bright red patters against black mesh.

you watch the veins in toji’s neck pulse underneath sweaty skin, decorated with swirls of black and grey ink. his tattoos extend down his chest and back, working to cover the mess of purple and blue bruises across his body.

on his rib lies a scrawl of your name, etched into his skin for millions to see every time he stepped into the ring.

the raven haired man says something unintelligible to his team before smacking his temple with his glove, almost as if he was trying to knock something back into place.

you cringe at the thought of a brain injury so early into his career. you’d heard stories before, world class fighters reduced to shells of themselves. shot memories, seizures, even paralysis. you try not to think too deeply about it.

the TV screens in front of you pan to across the ring to his opponent. ryomen sukuna, 2 years into his career with every title under the sun.

everything except heavyweight champion. the name belonging to the winner of this very match.

sukuna was terrifying, completely unfazed by the rivets of blood pouring from his temple and left nostril. you’d quite literally watched him pop his nose back into place during the first break after your boyfriend had dealt a serious blow to it. to say this man scared you was an understatement.

toji notices your anxiety, leaning against the mesh wall of the ring to look down at you in the front row.

“you watchin’?” he yells with a grin, barely coherent over the mixed sounds of cheers and boos.

you smile, though your boyfriend scowls at the onslaught of paparazzi trying to capture the tender moment. he spits at the see-through wall of the ring to serve as an unspoken “fuck you.” cheers ring out from the sidelines as the screens capture the interaction.

toji turns to you and pushes off of the mesh wall, throwing his hands out with a “tsk” and a shake of his head.

“you worried about me baby?” he teases, fully aware that the cameras are still on him. “you don’t gotta worry about me, right?.”

you laugh, motioning for security to shoo any onlookers off. the mix of adrenaline and attention was clearly getting to him, though you loved when he got cocky like this. he always fucked you hardest after a big win.

the two men settle back into the middle of the ring, the referee separating them with an stern arm. sukuna looks down at you with an unreadable expression, pinning you to your seat with just a glance. toji’s pink-haired opponent turns back to him with a sinister grin, taking out his mouthguard to speak clearly. you only manage to make out the end of his insult, blood running cold as his words register.

“..and after they give me that title? i might fuck that little girlfriend of yours, fushiguro.”

toji says nothing, expression blank. you begin to wonder if he even heard the other man, but the buzz signifying round 3 pulls you out of your thoughts. you brace for whatever may come next.

sukuna is a brick wall, but toji’s light on his feet, weaving in and out of punches with his gloves guarding his face.

he’s faster than usual, spurred on by adrenaline and anger.

he lands a kick to sukuna’s ribs, the sickening crunch reaching the front row right on impact. definitely two, maybe even three broke ribs you hear a fan spectate.

his opponent curses, landing two punches to his chest before knocking toji to the ground, just barely missing the raven haired man with a solid blow right as he springs upwards.

“you gonna fuck her?” toji scoffs, landing another kick to sukuna’s injured ribs. you can barely make out their conversation even with a front row seat, you doubt anyone in the stands has been able to understand them this whole time.

the pink-haired man winces on impact, his first show of weakness since the beginning of the match.

“huh? tell me.” your boyfriend muses, dodging a kick and throwing sukuna to the floor. cheers ring out in the stadium at the direct show of brutality, you cover your mouth in anticipation.

toji settles his body weight on the man below him, twisting his arm as far as it will go while keeping his face to the floor. his legs wrap around and under the second man, squeezing his injured ribs like a vice with his thighs.

sukuna lands a blow with his free arm, then another, then another. toji does nothing, holding his opponent down with a smile almost too wide, too sinister.

“fuck.. fuck!” sukuna yells, struggling under the weight of the man above him.

the crowd is in hysterics, the announcers are out of their seats. “an unprecedented burst of energy,” you hear them call it. nothing like they’d ever seen before during any of toji’s matches.

you have to fight off the ego boost it gives you, knowing he’s only fighting this hard for you. because another man dared to speak on your name in his presence.

toji takes a couple more punches with that same smile, finally grabbing his opponent’s free arm to render the other man motionless.

you stagger out of your seat, running into the isle to get a better view of the ring.

the referee crouches by the two men, waiting to call the match. sukuna shares a look with third man, groaning before tapping toji’s wrist three times.

the crowd is animalistic. screams, wails, jeers, all of it meshes together within seconds.

toji’s security forms a circle around you, leading you towards the ring as fans flood the isles in celebration.

that was it, he’d won the title. Fushiguro Toji, heavyweight champion.

sukuna is led out of the ring by his team, choosing to forego any post-match interviews. he doesn’t dare look at you as he passes you on the steps, humiliated beyond belief.

calls of your name echo out from the center of the ring, your boyfriend pushing past paparazzi to scoop you into his arms.

the heat from his torso melts into yours as he clutches you to his body. he’s sweaty, practically bleeding from every direction too. but he’s smiling.

it’s not the smile he puts on for press, a quick flash of perfect teeth to keep the morale light, keep his sponsors happy. not the sinister smile he flaunts during matches either, fueled by bloodlust and pure adrenaline.

not even the cocky smile he puts on for the crowd when the match gets tough, the one that gets his opponents mad, gets the crowd hit and bothered.

this smile is soft, private. a small show of love in a sea of flashing cameras and prying eyes. this smile says “i love you, I do this for you.”

you reach for his face, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. toji wipes the blood—his— from your lips with a calloused thumb, pulling your head to his chest with a soft murmur.

“i love you.”

[neo-nomatrix]

Hate the AM, Hate the PM, But love you

Hobie Brown x reader

word count: 969

find the mini series here

tags: @maxjesty @marshallowy @sh-tposter2021 @ilovebhna @ladyagagaslefttoe

synopsis: Hobie is still a slightly infuriating neighbor, but there’s something about that jacket and guitar that are all too familiar.

a/n: DRUNK CONFESSIONS!! Part two of this fic. I wasn’t going to write another part to it but i caved 😔

You stood him up. You fucking stood him up. Hobie spent the entire show looking out into the crowd, ignoring the blinding stage lights, to try and find you. But you were nowhere to be found. He asked so nicely too! Despite his nonchalant attitude it took him so long to build up the courage to ask you out. He had dinner reservations planned, which he has obviously never done, looked up places to get a Mr.Whippy and even found a small secluded area where he could play his guitar for you.

The worst part is how it made him feel. He genuinely liked you and it hurt him to think you didn’t feel the same when he thought you did. So what was his solution? Go out with his mates to a pub until 3 am to drink his feelings. Hobie was a bold drunk, bolder than he usually is. He’s also a sloppy drunk, tripping when he walks and slurring his speech like it’s all one word.

You’re peacefully sleeping in your bed with your spiderman eye mask cuddling with your Spider-Punk plushie. It’s not a random occurrence to hear Hobie stomping his boots late at night but it was different today. You heard his boot buckles dragging across the floor and a loud bang against your door. Not necessarily a knock, more of a body slumped against the wood.

“Love! You in there?!” You hear him yell.

You try your hardest to ignore him but as he keeps yelling and pounding against the wood you start to feel sorry for everyone else on your floor. You force yourself out of bed and towards the front door. As you reluctantly open it a drunken Hobie falls into your flat.

“Hobie get your arse up,” you roll your very tired eyes.

He surprisingly agrees and makes his way to your bed.

Great, you think

He tosses his guitar to your couch and gets into your bed like it’s his. Conveniently throwing the spider-punk plush off the bed. He cuddles up with your blanket and closes his eyes. You cannot let him fall asleep.

“Hobie! Hello? That is my bed. Get out!” You yell at him.

“Why’d you do it?” He whispers.

“What,” you ask, still annoyed.

“You stood me up. I asked you to come to my show and you didn’t. Why,” he asked less of a question and more of a statement.

You sigh, of course you knew that was tonight. In all honesty you don’t quite know why you didn’t go. You weren’t doing anything special and it probably would’ve been nice. But you were scared. Scared of what? You also didn’t know that, you just were.

“I… I don’t know,” you admit.

“Really hurt me, Love. I wanted to see you and take you out on a nice date,” he looked away from you.

Your heart shattered. You knew Hobie liked you but not to that extent. You thought he was just playing around with you and didn’t mean anything by it.

“I’m really sorry, Hobie. We should go out some other time, okay? My treat,” you promise.

“Nah, don’t think i’ll have the time,” He says, clearly less sad than he was a few moments ago.

“Oh yeah? Busy with what? Trying to tear down the government from the inside?” You laugh.

“Of course not, that’s for the first saturday of every month. I’ll be busy being Spiderman,” he says, cuddling closer to your blanket.

You stop immediately. Your mind goes blank, the world around you stops. You’re suddenly much more awake than you have ever been. Hobie is… no you can’t even say it. The man you’ve hated ever since you had moved in was the person you loved more than anything else? That can’t be right, he’s having a laugh. That’s gotta be it.

“I don’t believe in comedy,” you remember him saying.

Fuck. He’s not joking, is he?

“What?” you manage to get out.

“I’ll be busy, being spiderman and all. Yknow who that is right? Don’t know if you noticed but he’s- i mean I’m kinda all over your room,” he lets out a drunk giggle.

He pulls out his mask from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to you.

“See?”

You grab it in disbelief. You run your hand over the spandex in awe. Spiderman is right in front of you, you realize.

Oh. My. God. SPIDERMAN IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

You just can’t believe the man you’ve idolized for years was in your bed. YOUR BED.

Hobie takes the blanket off of him, lifting up his shirt to reveal his suit. Blue and fucking red material.

“I don’t believe in the labels though. It’s stupid,” He says in the most Hobie way possible.

“You’re a superhero,” you say, still a little shocked.

“No. No, don't say that. I'm not a hero, because calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologising, narcissistic autocrat,” He says. God even drunk he’s still a smart ass.

“So you still wanna go out?” He asks.

“What? I just found out you’re fucking Spiderman and that’s what you’re asking me? If I want to go out with you?” You respond.

“I mean what else is there to say? I already know you love me,” he nods to the spiderman memorabilia.

Even in this state he still leaves you speechless.

“Well- yeah I guess. We can go out,” you say slowly.

“Cool,” he nods.

He lifts up the blanket and scoots over, inviting you into your bed with him. You roll your eyes and get in with him. He wraps his arms around you and smiles.

“I knew you wanted to snog me from the start,” he laughs.

Hobie is still pretty infuriating, but that is slowly becoming one of your favorite things about him.

[moralesluvr]

ok but being friends w benefits with miguel wouldn’t even work out because you’d fall in love—yes, you’d fall first. but he fell harder, the passionate sex didn’t help either because when when you got on top to ride him for the first time, he lost his shit mid round and threw you off him (and the helped you up of course <3)

this is nothing but facts…like the idea of being fwbs came up at work one day because you noticed he had this pent up steam he could never quite get rid of, plus he was attractive and so were you, no issue there right?

but the first time miguel touched you he was gentle with you, really caring and that shocked you because it was so contrast to his normal demeanor. something about the way he kissed your neck, the way his fingers curled within you, the way his mouth worked skillfully to work inside your tight walls, he was gentle all the way and it started to play on your heartstrings.

the first couple of hookups were solely about you. no matter how much you whined and cried for it, miguel wouldn’t have himself inside of you until he had worked you up to it, because although this was supposed to be just sloppy hookups when the both of you felt like it, he still cared about you, so he didn’t want to just rip you in half quite yet.

“gotta train you for it.” he’d tell you as his tongue lapped at your puffy clit, the same one he’d been toying with for literal hours. and every time you’d think about stopping…he’d grab a tight hold on your thighs, dragging you closer to him.

he knew he couldn’t keep doing this with you when you were completely nude on top of him, pretty cunt swallowing his length in its entirety as his hands took home on your hips. he cocked his head to the side, “okay, you’re g’na—“

you don’t even know what he was going to tell you, but your hands find his shoulders as you lift yourself off of his cock before slamming back down, repeating the motion at a slow, passionate pace, and miguel looked at you through half-lidded eyes, mouth unable to form words at how good you felt around him.

although he wanted so much more. he sunk his claws in the flesh of your hips, making you gasp at the mix of pain and pleasure. he feeds off of your reaction, cock prodding at your deepest spots as he held you steady with one hand, other hand coming to rub your sensitive clit, pussy clenching around miguel’s thick cock tightly as pesky tears soared down your cheeks.

“t-too much.” you whimper out, but his movements don’t cease, hips rutting into your cunt as he whispers, “you take it, slut.”

the degrading nickname makes your mind go blank as you fall into miguel’s chest, arms around his neck as you whispered into his ear, broken sobs accenting your words, “mig- miguel…’m g’na..”

“cum? no, not yet… shit- sweetheart, you’re gonna cum when i say to.”

you whine at that, a thick coil of pleasure bubbling in your lower abdomen as you relish in the feeling of fullness that miguel gives you, eyes fluttering closed as you feel nothing but heat all over you, skin burning with need.

miguel picks up on this and he kisses your check as he fucks into you, “h-hold it…”

it takes you a minute to realize what he wants, but it’s for you to cum with him, and you comply to his request as his thrusts become sloppier, dick twitching inside of you as you let go, his fingers rubbing your clit messily as your juices coat his chest, his own cum shooting inside of you, painting your walls a milky white.

you started to lay limp on top of him but his hands find your waist, tossing you over onto the other side of the bed. you perk up, and look at him with an inquisitive expression, “miguel?”

“sorry, just…” he whispered, “i don’t want to do this anymore.”

you frowned. “w-why? did i do something? i mean, whatever it is i can probably—“

“no.” he cut you off, eyes still boring into the wall, trying his best not to look at you. he looks down at his hands and then sighs, “i think i’m falling in love with you.”

it’s such a shock to you. you watch as he moves over to you, picking you up swiftly as you both sit back on his bed. he pulls you on top of him, chest to chest, forehead to forehead. “i’m sorry— for…um…throwing you off of me. it isn’t you, promise. i just….i don’t like…this feeling.”

“what, you don’t like the idea of having sex with your girlfriend instead of your co-worker who brings you coffee in the morning?” you giggle, and he laughs with you, a small, content laugh.

“no, no…i’m okay with that.”

[tgms]

sucker punch — kaji ren

you’ve never been the type to pick random fights with your boyfriend. unfortunately for him, this wasn’t just a random fight. (wc: 0.9k)

“i can’t do it anymore,” your voice broke the silence in the room. kaji, on the verge of sleep, stirs awake from his sprawled out position on his bed.

“…huh?” he asked after a minute of trying to process what you were saying.

“i can’t do it anymore, ren,” you repeated, pulling away from him and sitting up. he followed suit, slowly sitting up and pulling his sleep shirt back down to cover his exposed abdomen. “you always tell me to come over and end up doing this shit.”

“what shit? fuck you talkin’ about?” he grumbled back, traces of sleep slowly leaving his system.

“you know damn well what i’m talking about. we talked about it yesterday. i’m tired, too!” you whined, head lolling back and resting against the wall.

still confused as to what you were going on about, kaji remained silent as he racked his brain on what he could’ve done to illicit this reaction from you.

was it when he ate the last of your favorite flavor chupa chup? or maybe last week when he was twenty minutes late in picking you up? but if he were to think really, really hard on what he could’ve done to make you upset to the point of waking him up, he draws a blank.

“wait, can you-” he paused, lifting a hand up to squeeze his temples. “at least explain why you’re mad. can’t read your damn mind.”

“and i’m saying you should already know! don’t play with me, kaji ren,” you huffed out, arms crossed in front of your chest. “i can’t believe you. you never listen.”

“you serious right now?” he shot back, anger steadily rising. he took a breath, trying to find his composure before he snapped and made whatever he did worse. “don’t call me like that, either. y’know i don’t like that shit.”

“oh, i’m so sorry, baby. that better for you?” you snarled sarcastically, your own hostility rising in response. you scooted back farther away from him, legs uncrossing and feet now touching the floor. “i think i’m just gonna go home.”

kaji groaned, head falling back against the wall. “‘m not telling you to leave. can you just tell me what the problem is so i can fix it ‘nd we can go back to sleep?”

you shot another scalding glare in his direction, mumbling something under your breath that he couldn’t quite hear, but he’s pretty sure he caught something along the lines of asshole and i’ll show him. you stopped moving away and even brought your legs back up to the bed. but kaji’s eyes almost bugged out of his head when he noticed you pulling your (his) shirt up over your head.

“the fuck are you doing? ‘m not fucking you right now,” despite seeing all of that and more before, he respectfully slapped a hand over his eyes at the unexpected show of skin. he peaked through his fingers at your silence, hand falling when he noticed the light purple marks blooming on your torso.

you crawled closer to him, kneeling between his spread legs and pointing at the bruises littering your skin. “see this? i told you—”

“who did it?” kaji cut you off, voice low and eyes ready to kill. a rough hand came up to slowly trace the marks on your side. “tell me who did this and i’ll fuckin’ kill ‘em.”

“go die then!” you hollered back at him. “been trying to tell you for the past week! i can’t sleep with you anymore, shit hurts!”

kaji stayed focused on the purple blotches, calloused fingers lightly running over them. “what’s that s’posed to mean? fuck does sleeping gotta do with this?”

“god, how many times have i said this already?” you rolled your eyes, arms crossing over your chest again. he couldn’t help the way his eyes zeroed in on your chest at the movement. “you keep kicking and punching in your sleep, stop having me come over if you can’t lay still!”

his hands stopped tracing over the bruises, retracting until they rested on his thighs. he wouldn’t look up at you, bangs casting a shadow over his eyes. “…i did that?”

“yeah,” you scoffed. “either get a bigger bed or come over to mine instead. it’s always come over and never on my way. and my room’s cuter than yours! i wanna sleep, too,” you whined, anger dissipating in waves at his lack of a response.

kaji started mumbling quietly, and no matter how close you brought your face to his you couldn’t understand the words coming out of his mouth.

you didn’t press though, opting to lean back on your heels and stare at him expectedly.

“‘m sorry,” he let out after a few more minutes of silence, head dropping forward until his forehead rested on your shoulder. “never meant to hurt you.”

his arms came up to wrap themselves around you, pulling you closer until your body was flush against his. promises of won’t do it again and pleads of don’t go murmured into your bare skin.

you brought your own arms around his body, fingers running up and down his back, heart softening at his genuineness. you felt him shift and jostle you around in his lap, but his grip on you never loosened up, even when you heard tapping from behind your back.

“what’re you doing?”

“…buying a new bed.”

notes: is my characterization ass omfg. lmk your thoughts!

[f14fun]

big mouth, big brain (!youtuber x op81) ~ part 2

synopsis: in which case y/n, a video essayist pops up on oscar's youtube feed, and he falls in love with the way she speaks and tells stories

smau + prose (5.3K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | prev | next ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

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a little over a week later, on march 24...

yourusername:

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 211,009 others

yourusername: thx babe 🧡

view comments

oscarpiastri: np honey 🧡

user1: aight what is this sudden new development 😀

user1: i mean i'm NOT complaining but YOU SIR better take care of our pookie dookie wookie y/n 🧐🫵🏽

oscarpiastri: got it, got it 😁😁🫣

user2: girl you got him blushing and shiii-

user3: omg i saw her today at the melborne gp and she was so nice to me! like i'm not familiar with who she is really (i'm new to the wonderful world of mawmaw y/n!), but i just know she will be the perfect wag <3

user3: like she saw me struggling with my lanyard, wine, and duffle bag, and offered to literally hold all three, i love her so much

user3: and her outfits are literally so cute, oscar, you chose the right one!

liked by oscarpiastri

user4: omg SHE'S REPPING THE ORANGE HEART #teampapaya

user5: y/nscar, my mawmaw and pawpaw 😘😽💋

user6: like i know they are not official official, but these soft launches gotta stoppp, just hard launch already

user7: girl is he good in bed

user7: please please please give deets, ily!

user8: fam you mad weird for that one

user9: please for the love of god respect their privacy

liked by oscarpiastri and yourusername

oscarpiastri: ready for date night 2 night?

yourusername: always ready for u 💗

user10: the BLATANT FLIRTING NAHHH

user11: imagine if this is all one big fat skit i'm actually going to scream cry throwup kms

landonorris: so nice to meet you today, love a girl who finally makes oscar stfu

yourusername: LMAOO 😭😭 it was a please lando

oscarpiastri: 🙄🙄

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I was in fact, not alright.

It had been little over a year since I had been on an actual date (not counting the instances where I went over to a guy's house for some ramen, and all of a sudden that was the date) Used to all these low effort, casual efforts at being romantic, I was suddenly hit with the prospect of an actual man who wanted to treat me with respect.

Oscar Piastri.

The man who I idolized as I grew up, always admiring his grit and courage from afar.

And this hardworking man wanted to take me out on a date. For real.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to calm the flurry of nerves that churned within me. I smoothed my champagne white colored dress and straightened my Cult Gaia necklace. Oscar had only asked of one thing of me tonight, which was to either wear white or beige.

My heart pounded relentlessly, a drumbeat of anticipation and anxiety. It wasn't just any date; it was a date with Oscar Piastri. The very thought sent my mind spiraling. How did I, of all people, end up here? (answer: being chronically online did)

Every interaction with Oscar had been a mixture of awe and admiration. I remembered the first time I saw him race, the way he navigated the track with unparalleled skill and determination. He wasn't just a driver; he was a force of nature, a symbol of relentless ambition and hard work. And now, here I was, about to go on a date with him.

Even though he got fourth at his home race today, I was extremely proud of him. Both as a fan, and quite possibly, his girlfriend by the end of the night (the delusional girl in me said the last part, clearly).

When he had dm'd me privately after tweeting publicly he would like to take me out, I remember completely blanking. I nearly blacked out when he insisted on calling to go over the nitty gritty details of everything with me.

From flying me out, to booking my hotel and making sure my stay in Melbourne was as comfortable as possible, I was feeling a swirl of new emotions. Sure, life was going fast, but I liked this pace. Especially if Oscar could be beside me whilst life passed us by.

Balancing my studies at the prestigious university I attended and my growing presence as a vlogger had never been easy. My days were a blur of lectures, assignments, and shooting content for YouTube and various brand sponsorships. I had started with simple vlogs, but over time, my content had evolved into elaborate video essays on various topics, from Formula 1 analysis to a break down on the world's current events, both in pop culture and politics.

My followers had grown steadily, and so had the demands on my time.

Yet, despite the chaos, I had always found solace in my passion for vlogging. It was my creative outlet, a way to connect with people who shared my interests. My video essays, in particular, had garnered a lot of attention. They were meticulously researched, edited with care, and infused with my personal touch. The positive feedback I received made all the sleepless nights worth it.

But tonight, I wasn't thinking about the next video essay or the pile of coursework waiting for me. Tonight, I was focused on one thing: Oscar.

I had documented my journey to Melbourne in a vlog, capturing every moment from the airport, to the breathtaking view from my hotel room, to the race in Melbourne as well.

My followers were eagerly anticipating the next installment, but for now, they would have to wait. This was my time, a rare moment to step out from behind the camera and live in the present.

As I made my way to the lobby to meet Oscar, my phone buzzed with notifications. Messages of encouragement from friends and comments from my followers flooded in, but I silenced them. Tonight was about more than just content; it was about experiencing something real.

Exhaling as the elevator door slowly opened, the incessant ringing of jazz music seemed to warp and slow as I made eye contact with Oscar from across the lobby. He seemed nervous, fidgeting with his cufflinks.

Earlier in the day, we couldn't see each other, as media duties for the both of us consumed our time. So here we were, for the first time, meeting each other in person.

He was much taller in person than I had actually expected.

It was one thing to see him plastered across a big screen and splattered across billboards in New York City, but it was another to see this man in all his glory, in the flesh.

His shoulders seemed to broaden as I approach him, and a million thoughts were swirling in my mind. I just hoped the same million thoughts were swirling in his mind as well.

His fluffy brown hair looked newly tousled with, but not to the point where it looked terribly unruly. He looked human, with that crooked smile, and his eyes folded into little half moons—like parenthesis—he was happy to see me. As I was too.

All eloquence, sense of being, and peace of mind disappeared in an instant. Mouth slightly gapping widely, I was at a loss of words for once in my life.

Oscar Piastri is beautiful.

We simultaneously reached out for a hug, our laughter breaking the awkward silence that had settled upon us as we sized each other up for the first time. The hug was amazing, enveloping me in a warmth that felt almost surreal.

His arms wrapped around me with a gentle firmness, and I felt a sense of comfort and safety that I hadn't experienced in a long time. It was as if I had come home, even though we were standing in the middle of a bustling hotel lobby.

The hug lasted a little longer than usual, neither of us wanting to let go. I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my own, and the scent of his cologne, fresh and slightly woody, filled my senses.

When I finally, reluctantly let go, his hand lingered on my waist for a moment longer, sending a shiver down my spine. The touch was intimate and unhurried, a silent acknowledgment of the connection we both felt.

As his hand finally released its gentle hold, I felt butterflies fluttering wildly in my stomach. My cheeks warmed, a blush creeping up as I tried to steady my breathing. I glanced up at him and saw that he was blushing a little bit too, his cheeks tinged with a soft pink.

His bashful smile mirrored my own feelings, and in that shared moment of vulnerability, we both knew this was the start of something special.

Oscar cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "I, uh, got something for you," he said, his voice tinged with nerves.

He flipped the bag he was holding around, and I could see the words Valentino sprawled across it. I gasped, my eyes widening in surprise.

"Oscar, you didn't," I whispered, my heart racing even faster.

He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wasn't sure which one you wanted, so I got both," he admitted, looking sheepish yet proud. "One in red and one in blue."

I was completely floored. "Oscar, this is… wow," I stammered, at a loss for words. I had never expected such a grand gesture, especially not on our first date. It was one thing to admire him from afar, but to have him go to such lengths for me was overwhelming.

He shifted slightly, his nervousness palpable. "I just wanted to do something special for you," he said softly, his eyes meeting mine. "You deserve it."

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Oscar," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "This means so much to me."

He smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made my heart swell. "I'm glad you like it," he said, stepping closer. "I wanted tonight to be perfect."

I looked down at the beautifully crafted bags, my fingers tracing the elegant lettering of Valentino. Each bag represented more than just a luxury item; it was a symbol of his consideration and effort. It was clear that he had put thought into this, wanting to make a good impression and show that he cared.

"I can't believe you did all this," I murmured, still in awe. "It's… beyond anything I could have imagined."

He took a deep breath, his confidence growing slightly as he saw my reaction. "You deserve to be treated well," he said, his voice firm. "And I wanted to make sure you knew that."

The sincerity in his eyes was undeniable, and I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me. "Thank you," I repeated, my heart swelling with affection. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he replied, his hand gently brushing against mine. "Just enjoy the evening."

As we stood there, the world around us seemed to fade away. In that moment, it was just the two of us, sharing something special and unforgettable. And for the first time in a long while, I felt truly cherished.

"I feel like I'm dreaming," I confessed, a soft laugh escaping my lips. "This is all so surreal."

Oscar's eyes softened as he took my hand in his. "It's real, Y/N. And it's just the beginning."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt my cheeks flush. The thought that this was just the start of something more was both thrilling and terrifying. But as I looked into his eyes, I felt a sense of reassurance.

"Let's make tonight memorable," he said, his thumb gently caressing the back of my hand.

I nodded, my heart pounding with anticipation. "Absolutely."

With a gentle squeeze of my hand, he led me out of the hotel lobby. The evening air was cool and refreshing, and as we walked towards his black McLaren that was waiting for us, I couldn't help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Oscar had gone above and beyond to make this night special, and I was determined to cherish every moment.

As we approached the car, Oscar immediately took the initiative to ensure everything was perfect for me. He opened the passenger door and motioned for me to sit down, but not before adjusting the seat settings. He carefully moved the seat forward and tilted it slightly to match my height, ensuring I would be comfortable during the ride.

"Is the seat okay?" he asked, looking at me with genuine concern.

I nodded, already feeling the comfort of the perfectly adjusted seat. But he wasn't done yet. He leaned in and adjusted the air conditioning, making sure it wasn't too chilly. "I know it can get a bit cold sometimes," he said with a small smile, "so I set it to a warmer temperature."

I smiled back, appreciating his thoughtfulness. Once he was satisfied that I was comfortable, he turned his attention to my belongings. Gently taking the old bag I had brought with me, he began transferring my items into the new red Valentino bag he had gifted me. He was meticulous, making sure that nothing was left behind and that everything was placed neatly in the new bag.

"Here, let me help you with this," he said softly, his hands moving deftly as he organized my things.

Watching him, I felt a warmth spread through me. He wasn't just being thoughtful; he was showing me that he cared about every little detail, making sure that I felt special and valued.

Once he had finished, he handed me the new bag, his eyes shining with pride. "There you go," he said, his voice gentle. "Everything's all set."

I took the bag from him, my fingers brushing against his for a moment. "Thank you, Oscar," I said, my voice filled with gratitude. "You didn't have to do all this."

He shrugged modestly, a bashful smile playing on his lips. "I wanted to," he replied simply. "I wanted tonight to be perfect for you."

And as he closed the passenger door and walked around to the driver's side, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by his kindness and attention to detail. Oscar Piastri was proving to be more than just a racing legend; he was a gentleman, someone who cared deeply and went out of his way to make me feel cherished.

Oscar didn't act like an immature, twenty-three year old boy, like some people made him out to be. Unlike the bummy guys I had known and casually dated before, this was a step up.

He maneuvered the car with ease, backing up with one hand on the steering wheel while his other arm rested casually on the back of my seat. I couldn't help but admire the way his muscles shifted and tensed underneath his white collared shirt, the fabric stretching slightly over his broad shoulders. It was impossible not to find it incredibly attractive. My cheeks heated up, a blush spreading across my face. Oscar noticed and turned to look at me, his eyebrows raising slightly. "Are you blushing?" he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

Caught off guard, I stammered, "Um, no...I mean, maybe a little." I laughed nervously, trying to brush it off, but the warmth in my cheeks only intensified.

He chuckled, a soft, bashful sound, and I noticed a faint blush creeping up his own neck. "I guess we're both a bit flustered tonight," he admitted, glancing back at the road. The air between us felt charged with a mix of excitement and nervous energy.

As we settled into the drive, the initial awkwardness began to dissipate, replaced by a comfortable silence. I watched the city lights blur past us, the rhythm of the car soothing my nerves. Sensing a shift in the atmosphere, Oscar took a deep breath and broke the silence. "You know, there's a lot of pressure in Formula 1," he said, his voice thoughtful. "It's not just about the races. There's so much that goes on behind the scenes—training, media obligations, sponsorships. It can be overwhelming sometimes. But having someone like you here tonight, it makes it all feel worth it."

I smiled, touched by his openness. "I can only imagine how tough it must be," I replied. "Balancing my studies and vlogging is already a handful. There are days when it feels like I'm barely keeping up with everything. But tonight...I'm really grateful to be here with you."

He glanced over at me, his eyes soft and understanding. "Sounds like we both have a lot on our plates," he said. "But maybe tonight, we can just focus on ourselves and leave all those distractions behind."

"Agreed," I said, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. "Tonight is just about us."

We exchanged smiles, a silent agreement to make the most of this evening and cherish the time we had together. The city lights blurred past us as we drove on, the world outside fading into the background as we found solace in each other's company. The pressures of our respective worlds felt miles away, replaced by a shared sense of tranquility and excitement for what the night had in store.

The McLaren navigated smoothly through the city streets, and with each passing moment, I found myself more captivated by Oscar's presence. His occasional sideways glances and the genuine interest he showed in our conversation made me feel seen and appreciated in a way I hadn't experienced before. It was refreshing to connect with someone on such a deep level, especially amidst our busy lives.

"I've always admired your dedication to racing," I said, breaking the silence that had settled comfortably between us. "It must take an incredible amount of discipline."

Oscar smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Thank you," he replied sincerely. "It's my passion, but it's also a demanding profession. Every race, every decision matters. It's a constant balancing act, trying to perform at your best while managing everything else."

"I can relate," I admitted with a small laugh. "Trying to balance university assignments, vlogging, and now, this unexpected but wonderful evening—it's a lot to juggle."

He nodded thoughtfully. "You're doing an amazing job," he reassured me. "Not many people can handle all of that with such grace."

The compliment warmed my heart, and I felt a surge of gratitude towards him. "Thank you, Oscar. And for what it's worth, I think you handle the pressures of Formula 1 admirably."

His gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. The city lights cast a soft glow on his features, accentuating the earnestness in his expression. "I appreciate that," he said softly. "Having you here tonight, it's a reminder of why I do what I do."

A comfortable silence settled between us once more, filled with unspoken understanding and a growing connection. The air inside the car was charged with an undeniable chemistry, a magnetic pull that drew us closer with each passing minute. It was a rare and precious moment, where time seemed to slow down, allowing us to savor each other's company without the weight of responsibilities and expectations.

Oscar glanced at me, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face, "if you keep blushing like that, I'm going to think you're a better driver than me."

I laughed, my cheeks still warm. "Oh please, you know I'm terrible with directions. I'd probably get us lost before we even reach the restaurant."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, don't worry, I'll be your GPS for the night. Just don't expect me to be as reliable as my car on the track."

At a stoplight, he turned to look at me, and to my surprise, he brushed a loose strand of my hair away from my face to the back of my head. Holding my chin, he smiled, and a small smirk blossomed across his face.

Imagine my shock horror when I started blushing again. It felt like that one Grey's Anatomy episode where a girl wouldn't stop blushing, and got surgery to treat her incessant blushing.

Yes, I really felt like Kelly Roesch every time I was around Oscar.

"Y/N, do I really make you blush that much?" Oscar smirked and looked forward, as the light had changed back to green. Pressing the gas pedal, he sped off, and I let out a gasp from how fast the car was going.

Caught off guard, I stammered, "Um, maybe I am blushing, what about it?" I dared to challenge playfully, immediately regretting my boldness and the sudden surge of moxie.

Oscar turned to look at me, his smile widening. "You're adorable when you blush," he remarked, his tone warm and affectionate.

Embarrassment tinged with delight colored my cheeks even more. "Well, you have that effect on me," I confessed, feeling a rush of courage.

He chuckled softly. "Good to know," he teased gently, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary before returning to the road.

The playful banter eased the tension between us, infusing the car with a light, flirtatious energy. As we continued driving through the city streets, our conversation flowed effortlessly, alternating between laughter and more serious topics.

Oscar shared anecdotes from his racing career, injecting humor into tales of close calls and victories, while I recounted memorable vlogging experiences and the challenges of managing a demanding schedule.

Each exchange deepened our connection, fostering a sense of mutual understanding and admiration. There was an unspoken chemistry between us, a magnetic pull that grew stronger with every shared laugh and meaningful glance. I

t was as if we had known each other for much longer than just this evening, our bond forged in the shared pursuit of passion and ambition.

By the time we arrived at the restaurant, the initial nervousness had transformed into a comfortable familiarity. Oscar held the car door open for me with a gallant smile, his gestures both chivalrous and endearing.

As we walked into the restaurant together, hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected turn of events that brought us here.

When we arrived at the front entrance of the restaurant, I was once again struck by the thoughtfulness of his choices. The place was elegant yet intimate, with a cozy ambiance that made me feel instantly at ease.

Oscar had clearly put a lot of thought into every detail, and it was impossible not to be touched by his efforts.

As we sat down, I couldn't help but smile at him. "You really went all out, didn't you?" I teased gently.

He shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. "Only the best for you."

I blushed, feeling the warmth of his words wash over me. "Thank you, Oscar. For everything."

"You're worth it," he said simply, his gaze unwavering.

In that moment, I knew that this was more than just a date. It was the beginning of something beautiful, something that had the potential to grow into a deep and meaningful connection.

And as the night unfolded, filled with laughter, conversation, and a shared sense of excitement, I realized that I was ready to embrace it wholeheartedly.

As we settled into our seats at the cozy restaurant, the atmosphere around us seemed to hum with a quiet energy. Oscar and I exchanged glances, a knowing smile playing on both our lips, as if silently acknowledging the unspoken tension between us.

"So, Y/N," Oscar began, his voice low and playful, "tell me more about your vlogging. Any juicy behind-the-scenes stories?"

I chuckled, stirring my drink slightly. "Oh, you know, the usual. Endless editing sessions, occasional tech disasters. But it's all worth it when I get to share something meaningful with my followers."

"Sounds like a lot of work," he mused, his gaze lingering on mine. "But I bet you enjoy every minute of it."

"Most of the time," I admitted, feeling a rush of warmth at his attentiveness.

As I settled into recounting the tea ceremony mishap, I couldn't help but chuckle at the memory, though at the time, it had been far from funny. "So, there I was, kneeling beside this beautifully arranged tea set," I began, gesturing animatedly with my hands. "The camera was perfectly positioned to capture this serene moment. I was about to take a sip of the freshly brewed tea when suddenly, the tripod leg gave way."

Oscar leaned forward, his eyes fixed on me with rapt attention. "No way," he interjected, clearly intrigued.

"Yes way," I confirmed with a laugh. "And in that split second, everything descended into chaos. The camera toppled over, knocking into the low table where the tea set was displayed. Cups shattered, tea leaves scattered everywhere, and I, in a desperate attempt to catch the camera, managed to knock over a delicate vase of flowers."

Oscar's laughter filled the air, a genuine and infectious sound that made me smile even wider. "You must have been in shock," he remarked, shaking his head in amusement.

"I was," I admitted, recalling the moment vividly. "But somehow, amidst the chaos, I kept rolling. I think I was in such disbelief that I just kept filming, capturing the aftermath of the disaster. Tea leaves floating in the air, water dripping from the overturned vase—it was a scene straight out of a comedy."

"And your viewers got to witness it all?" Oscar asked, still chuckling.

"Oh, they did," I confirmed, a grin spreading across my face. "And surprisingly, they loved it. I received so many comments about how refreshing it was to see the behind-the-scenes reality, even if it meant watching me fumble through a tea ceremony."

Oscar nodded thoughtfully, his gaze softening as he leaned back in his chair. "It just goes to show," he mused, "sometimes the unplanned moments make the best stories."

"Absolutely," I agreed, feeling a rush of gratitude for his genuine interest. "And speaking of stories, I'm sure you have your fair share of dramatic moments on the track. Care to share?"

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned forward, ready to share tales from the fast-paced world of Formula 1. "Well, there was this one time in Australia," he began, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "During one of my rookie years, I had a near-miss with a kangaroo. It came out of nowhere, right in the middle of the track. I had to swerve so hard I thought I'd end up in the barriers."

I gasped, eyes wide. "A kangaroo? Seriously? Only you would have an experience like that!"

He chuckled, clearly enjoying my reaction. "Yep, only in Australia, right? But that wasn't the end of it. The kangaroo didn't just stay on the track. It jumped over the barriers and ended up in the audience. People were screaming and trying to get out of its way. It was pure chaos."

"Oh my God," I laughed, shaking my head in disbelief. "Did anyone get hurt?"

"No, thankfully," Oscar replied, his eyes twinkling. "Security managed to corral the kangaroo and get it to safety. But it was definitely one of the most chaotic moments I've ever experienced on the track. The race had to be stopped for a few minutes until everything was under control.

The whole time, I was just sitting in my car, watching this kangaroo cause mayhem and thinking, 'Is this really happening?'"

I couldn't stop laughing at the mental image. "I can't believe it. That's insane. Did they ever find out how the kangaroo got there in the first place?"

Oscar shook his head, a smile still playing on his lips. "No idea. It was one of those freak occurrences. But it definitely made for an unforgettable race. Every time I go back to that track, I half expect to see another kangaroo waiting to jump out."

I giggled, feeling a warm connection building between us. "Well, I hope not. One near-miss with a kangaroo is more than enough for a lifetime."

He nodded in agreement, his smile broadening. "Yeah, definitely. But hey, it makes for a great story to tell on a first date, right?"

I blushed at his words, realizing just how special this evening was becoming. "Absolutely," I agreed, feeling a rush of gratitude for his genuine interest. "And speaking of stories, I'm sure you have your fair share of other dramatic moments on the track. Care to share?"

His eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned forward, ready to share more tales from the fast-paced world of Formula 1. "Oh, I have plenty," he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "There was this one time when..."

As he launched into another story, I couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly we were connecting, each story weaving us closer together in this unexpected evening of laughter and shared experiences. The initial awkwardness had completely dissipated, replaced by a sense of comfort and camaraderie that felt both exciting and natural.

"You have some pretty wild stories," I said, still marveling at the idea of a kangaroo on the track. "I can't imagine how you keep your cool in situations like that."

He shrugged, a modest smile playing on his lips. "You get used to it, I guess. Racing teaches you to expect the unexpected. But it's not always as dramatic as dodging wildlife. Sometimes it's the little things that make a big difference, like dealing with sudden changes in weather or handling a tricky pit stop."

I leaned in, fascinated. "Tell me more about the pit stops. They always seem so intense on TV."

Oscar's eyes lit up as he delved into the intricacies of pit stops, explaining how every second counts and how the coordination between the driver and the crew is crucial. "It's a lot of pressure," he admitted, "but when it goes smoothly, it's one of the most satisfying parts of the race."

I nodded, absorbing every word. "It sounds like such a team effort. I never realized how much went into it."

"Exactly," he said, clearly pleased by my interest. "It's one of the things I love most about racing—the teamwork and the camaraderie. Everyone has to be at their best for the team to succeed."

We continued to share stories, the conversation flowing easily. I told him about my vlogging adventures, from the hilarious mishaps to the rewarding moments when a video resonated with my audience. Oscar listened intently, asking thoughtful questions and laughing at my anecdotes.

As the night grew later, the atmosphere around us became more intimate. We moved closer, our shoulders almost touching. The moonlight glimmered off the water, casting a soft glow on Oscar’s face.

"That sounds amazing," he said, his voice low and warm, his Australian accent adding a melodic lilt that sent shivers down my spine. Every word he spoke seemed to resonate deep within me, his low vibrato giving me butterflies.

I smiled, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "Thanks. It's not always easy, but it's definitely worth it."

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch was light, almost tentative. "I can tell," he said softly, his accent making each syllable feel like a caress. "Your eyes light up when you talk about it."

My heart skipped a beat as his hand lingered on my cheek. He leaned in, and before I could fully process what was happening, his lips brushed against my cheek in a soft, lingering kiss.

"You’re really something, you know that?" he murmured, his lips close to my ear. His breath sent shivers down my spine, his accent making the words even more intoxicating.

I felt my cheeks flush, a smile spreading across my face. "You’re not so bad yourself," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. The way his accent rolled off his tongue was doing things to me I hadn't anticipated.

Oscar’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "You know," he said, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper, "I've been wanting to kiss you all evening." His accent made the confession sound even more alluring.

"Is that so?" I asked, my voice playful yet breathless. The butterflies in my stomach were fluttering wildly.

He nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. "Absolutely. You’ve been driving me crazy with that smile of yours," he said, his accent making the words feel even more intimate and personal.

I laughed softly, feeling a mixture of flattery and nervous excitement. "Well, I guess I'm guilty as charged."

He leaned in closer, his lips now brushing against my ear. "Maybe we should make a habit of this. I like seeing you happy," he whispered, his accent sending delicious shivers down my spine.

My heart raced as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "You’re pretty good at making that happen," I admitted, feeling a surge of boldness. The way his voice, with its rich accent, played over my senses made me feel something stirring inside.

Oscar’s grin widened, and he reached for my hand. "Follow me," he said, his voice filled with playful promise. His touch was electric, sending a thrill through me as I placed my hand in his.

"Where are we headed to next?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. I was clearly blushing and super happy, unable to hide my excitement.

Oscar’s smile widened. "A yacht," he said simply, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

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yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, francisca.cgomes and 220,018 others

yourusername: finally, date night!

view comments

user1: i'm going to totally pretend that your now "chill" caption truly encapsulates how you are feeling (you were freaking out on priv earlier)

oscarpiastri: priv??! let me follow the account @/yourusername

yourusername: priv... what are you talking about i don't have a priv

oscarpiastri: 🧐🫵🏻

francisca.cgomes: what a beautiful girl 💋💋

yourusername: you're talking! babe you ae so beautiful as well 💋

oscarpiastri: are you flirting with my girl @/francisca.gcomes???

user2: MY GIRL SJIJSJORJDSS

user3: that's so alpha male of you oscar

yourusername: so what if she is 🙄

oscarpiastri: i've had her for less than a day let gooo 😥

francisca.cgomes: idc 🙄🙄

charles_leclerc: children please stop fighting

pierregasly: @/francisca.cgomes ... babe what about me

user4: LMAO KIKA NOT ANSWERING BAHAHA

user5: mawmaw yi pawpaw

liked by yourusername and oscarpiastri

user6: guys i just happened to be at the same resturaunt as them tonight bc of a family dinner and let me tell YOUUU, they were so flirty with each other omg. like i sat at the table adjacent to their left so i got a birds eye view of all of the blushing. like he kept intentionaly touching her hand and stuff it was so cute 😵‍💫🫠🥰

user7: landonorizz you got some competition @/landonorris

user8: yeah lando, i fear oscar may have more rizz than you

landonorris: 🙄👊🏼

user9: call him, oscarizz...?

user10: 💀💀 nahh that didn't hit LMAO

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 628,100 others

oscarpiastri: i took her to my penthouse and i freaked it

view comments:

yourusername: NO OSCAR THE CAPTION 😥😥😥

yourusername: HE DOESN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT

yourusername: OSCAR AND I DIDN'T FUCK

oscarpiastri: exactly, a gentleman never does such thing on a first date

yourusername: WHY IS THAT YOUR CAPTION NOOOO

oscarpiastri: people are not misunderstanding 🫷🏻🫸🏻

yourusername: OSCAR THEY ARE MISUNDERSTANDING IN THE COMMENTS

yourusername: I DID NOT DO SUCH DEED

user1: i love how y/n is literally freaking tf out and oscar is chill

user2: LMAO i can just see the cartoon silly steam leaking from her ears everytime oscar does anything

user3: god i don't even know if i want to be her or oscar

user4: i choose both.

user5: THEY FUCKED??? 😡😡🤬🤯🤯🤯😰😰😰😰🫨🫨🫨🤐

user6: oscar MY MAN the caption feels a little... sus

user7: had to clean my glasses to reread the caption

user7: because y/n's beauty was genuinely blinding me

user8: aight oscar who wrote that caption 😵😵

user9: ignoring the weird??! caption, they look SOOO CUTE UGH

yourusername: TYSMMMM <3 (pls ignore the weirdass caption yes, yes pls do that)

user10: LMAO

charles_leclerc: ...

oscarpiastri: father, please look away

yourusername: oh!- so NOW your embarassed

charles_leclerc: sending a screenshot of the caption to your mother brb

oscarpiastri: i hope you are reffering to alex

charles_leclerc: no, i definitely mean nicole

oscarpiastri: DELETE DELETE DELETE

logansargeant: bro your cooked

charles_leclerc: "OSCAR JACK PIASTRI" - what your mom said, she said it, not me

charles_leclerc: "HAVE SOME MORE DECORUM YOUNG MAN" - nicole

charles_leclerc: "TREAT A LADY WITH RESPECT"

oscarpiastri: ma'am yes ma'am 🫡🫡🫡

yourusername: god i love your mom @/oscarpiastri

yourusername: ty for doing me a service 🙏🏼🙌🏼 @/charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: no problem, a future leclerc-piastri deserves the best 🫡

charles_leclerc: (you better wife her up)

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oscarpiastri posted on his story

caption: i finally got my dream girl her dream bags 🫶🏻❤️🧡💙

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author's note: ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾 (part THREE yay or nay?!)

[minniesmutt]

your requests said it was closed but im not sure if it was for the 1k event. but if it is open can i request chan with the traveler x local trope and dialogue number 8, thank you!!

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: BANG CHAN X READER ☾ ━━━ PROMPT: 8 “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you’ll forget you ever met that asshole.” ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: TRAVELER!CHAN, LOCAL!READER, READER WORKS AT A BAR/TAVERN, CHAN PICKS UPS THE READER + SMALL CONVO ABOUT WEIGHT BUT NONE IS GIVEN (CHAN IS JUST A STRONG BOY), ORAL (F. REC), HAIR PULLING, BOOB PLAY, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, UNPROTECTED SEX, CREAMPIE, ☾ ━━━ WC: 1.2K ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Y/n was used to people coming and going. It was normal for people passing through to stop at the local tavern. They all mixed in with the regulars and left the small town soon after. So she was surprised when one man she knew was a traveler was in her bar frequently.

     “What brings you back this time, Chan?” Y/n asked as the man sat at her bar.

     “Just can’t get good mead anywhere else,” The man smiled

     Y/n smiled back at him and turned to pour him his drink. She was beginning to think he didn’t even leave town with how often he was in the tavern. Not that she complained too much. Y/n preferred having him there till the last call rather than other patrons. Chan was very respectful every time he was passing through. Though nowadays it seemed like he lived in the town.

     “How have you been since I was last here?” Chan asked as she set the mug down in front of him.

     “Better. Thank you for chasing off my ex last time. I appreciated it.”

     Y/n had broken up with her ex about a week before the last time Chan was in town. He had been harassing her at her home and work to get back with him. It honestly terrified her and her boss tried doing something about it but it didn’t seem to work. The last time Chan was in the tavern, she told him about the breakup and the harassment when said ex did show up at the bar. He came in yelling at her and accusing her of things she hadn’t done. Chan had taken it upon himself quite literally to kick him out of the bar. Y/n was sure the embarrassment itself kept him away.

     “No problem. No one deserves to be harassed. You deserve better than him,” Chan told her

     “Mm, can’t get better in this town,” Y/n hummed

     “Well, I’m not from here.”

     Y/n leaned over the bar in front of him. “You’re right.”

     “When are you off?” Chan asked

     “In about half an hour. What are you offering?”

     “Walk you home like I usually do.”

     There was a hint of mischievousness in both their smiles neither said anything for a moment. “And if I invite you in?” Y/n asked 

     “Then I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you’ll forget you ever met that asshole.” 

      “Then I’ll be back in thirty.”

     Chan smiled as she walked away and continued her job. Thirty minutes passed by quickly and before both knew it, they were walking down the street towards her home. It was starting to get dark, but they still safely made it to her home. Y/n invited Chan inside and as soon as the door was closed and locked, he pressed his lips on hers. 

      Y/n moaned into his mouth while he pressed her against the door, hands grabbing hold of her hips and pressing himself against her. Y/ tried pulling him closer as he pushed his tongue inside her mouth. Everything about him was making her melt—she was putty in his hands, especially when those hands were picking her up and wrapping her legs around his waist and peeling her off the door.

      Y/n was a bit surprised by his strength and pulled away from his lips “You don’t have to carry me,” Y/n told him

      “Wanted too.” Chan told her, “Gotta treat you like a princess.”

     “But—“

     “No buts. I don’t have all muscles for nothing,” Chan smiled and laid her down on the couch. His hands moved up under her skirt as he kissed along her neck and chest. As soon as he reached the back line of her top he moved under her skirt. Y/n watched him disappear under the fabric before feeling him remove her panties and place a kiss on her clit. 

      She let out a small moan as he pulled the fabric out and tossed it to the side. Chan bunched her skirt up around her waist and put her legs over his shoulders. Situating himself happy between her legs before diving in. Plump lips wrapping her clit and suckung on the nerves like his life depended on it. Y/n reached down and grabbed a handful of his curly hair with one hand and covered her mouth with her other hand. 

      Chan moaned into her as he devoured her like a starved man. His own hands reaching up and groping her chest through her top. Kneading the mounds in his hands as his tongue rolled over her clit. Her legs locked around his head the more he kept it up. Moaning into her hand as he worshiped her clit. The whole act was a new feeling to her and it showed. Even when Chan was holding her hips down while she shook from her orgasm. Rocking against his face while he helped her through the high. 

     Chan pulled away once she came down and wiped his lips and chin clean, placing one last kiss on her clit. “Chan…” Y/n said

     “Getting tired, pretty girl?” Chan asked with a smile, sitting up on his knees 

      “No. Need you,” Y/n told him

      Chan didn’t waste time discarding both their clothes. Tossing each bit of cloth to the floor till they were both nude and Chan was lining up at her entrance. Chan grabbed hold of her hips as his tip disappeared inside her. Y/n grabbed hold of his wrists as he slowly pushed into her. The traveler smiled as her jaw dropped open. 

     “Feel good baby?” Chan teased as he pulled her legs over his shoulders 

     “So good. Deep…” Y/n moaned 

     “Yeah? Feel me in that pretty tummy of yours?” Chan asked 

      He pulled back and slowly thrusted into her. He leaned over her, pushing her legs close to her chest as he grabbed the arm of the sofa behind her.  Using it as leverage to fuck into her. 

     Hips snapping into her ass as moans slipped past her lips. Chan was starting to regret not hitting on her earlier, even knowing she was in a relationship. Not that the dick wad deserved to see or hear her like this. 

      “Chan,” Y/n moaned, her walls tightening around him

      “Right here pretty. Gonna cum for me,” Chan smiled 

     “Yes,” Y/n moaned, “Faster please. So close Channie.”

     “Mm gonna cum all over Channie’s cock? Let Channie fill you up till you can’t take it anymore?”

     “Please! Cum in me, Channie! Need you to fill me up!” Y/n damn near screamed

      Chan smiled as her walls pulsed around him. Back arching off the furniture as her orgasm washed over her. Legs shaking on his shoulders. Chan smiled as he fucked her through her orgasm before letting god take over. Pushing himself deep inside her as his cum filled her. 

     Both catching their breaths once they came down from their highs. Chan pulled out after a few moments and pulled her legs off his shoulders.

      “Stay in town,” Y/n told him, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his shoulders

      “Mm. Got nowhere to stay, your inns aren’t the best.”

      “I’ve got room in my bed for one more.”

      “Only if I get to take you on a real date.”

      “Can have whatever you want after fucking me like that.”

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© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[whalesforhands]

You think you’ve met with the biggest worry of your life yet. Well… Kind of? Certainly, it was a blessing to think that this was your biggest worry thus far.

But something that has been making you lose sleep nonetheless.

That being that your cute, adorable and quiet son— Was being so much colder than usual.

“Mama. Megumi’s just cranky all the time.”

“Gumi’s been sulking in his room and listening to a lot of radio songs, too. Nana and I saw.”

Your twins have been just fine— As sweet as they could possibly be, as they cuddle up to you and follow you around the kitchen to make dinner or chasing their poor Papa and Daddy out the door so that they won’t bother your little bonding session.

But it seems Fushiguro Megumi has been a lot more distant than usual, his eyes squinted at you everytime he spoke, narrowed blue eyes and almost— Like a glare.

Maybe you’ve done something wrong? Did you not sew his favourite shirt up right? Ah, maybe you shouldn’t have asked Suguru to help you season the vegetables in the stew today— Was it because Satoru bought the wrong brand of pork?

Just what has been on your son’s mind?

“Megumi… Is something wrong? Are you okay? Do you feel sick?” And he’s gripping onto your hand, eyes squinted at you as he glares.

“I-I’m fine! Quit trying to take my temperature…!”

Your plans for reconciling don’t seem to be doing well either.

“…thanks.”

One direct strike to your heart that has you clutching at your chest in stark worry. It’s almost like he was getting colder and colder until hell could actually freeze over…!

“Welcome home! Did you like your lunch? I made your favourite today, oh! And added the carrots that you were talking about.” Your hand pats his head as he stares up at you with an almost blank expression on his face, coupled with that squinty look in his eye.

“It was okay.”

Another direct plunge of the knife into your heart as you cough and try to recover from this excruciating worry and panic from within.

There has got to be something wrong… Right?

“It’s gotta be puberty or something!” Satoru’s arm is around you, patting your back as you almost sob, your head resting upon your husband’s chest as you voice your concerns about your poor son.

“Satoru,” You sniffle lightly as he threads his fingers through your hair, letting you stare into his eyes as he hums in acknowledgment. “Were you like this at his age too?”

“Nope! I did have like, a giant target painted on my back cause I was powerful and stuff though.”

Oh my god. Was Megumi being targetted by dangerous organizations—

“And I think you’re scaring her, Satoru.” A gentle voice is heard as the bathroom door opens, Geto Suguru with a towel around his neck and his freshly dried hair being pushed back by a palm.

“Darling,” He’s kneeling by the side of the bed to be eye level with you as he takes yours hand in his. “Megumi and the girls are safe no matter where they go. Trust us.”

You do, you really do.

“B-But Suguru…! Megumi doesn’t even ask me for hugs anymore…!”

That was what was making you go on the brink of tears, actually. Your once sweet, quiet and slightly chubby but soft Megumi used to shyly plop his head onto your lap, used to stare at you until you would bend down and tightly squeeze him in your arms.

But now he won’t even call you ‘Mama’…

“Ah, that last part. He doesn’t even call me Papa anymore either. They’re at the age where it feels awkward to call their parents that, after all.”

But your girls—

“The twins and Tsumiki are better at endearing themselves, sweetheart.” The bed dips as he gets on, letting you flip the blanket up so that he could join you as he fluffs up and pillow and sits himself up. “Plus, you know how much better they are at expressing themselves than Gumi is.”

Your husband is right, but—

“You look so stressed, honey,” Your snowy-haired sorcerer of a husband hums so dismissively, as if he doesn’t understand the weight of the situation as Suguru continues to comfort you.

“Wanna kiss?”

Not at all being helpful.

(“I’m taking away all your kissing privileges,” A pout as you turn your head away from the puckered lips of one of your husbands.

“W-Wha? I didn’t even do anything! Suguru, convince her to give me back my rights, pleaseeeeee?!”

“Nope.” Your husband adjusts his reading glasses as his book settles on his lap and your head was now on his broader shoulder. “I’m mad at you too.”

Gojo Satoru feels very wronged right now.)

It seems the only one who seems to understand your worry is your eldest daughter.

“Mm! Megumi’s been acting really, really awkward lately, Mama!” Her plastic cup slams down onto the coaster with much more force than usual, the strawberry milk swirling about from the vibration of the force.

“I saw him putting his face super, super close to this magazine too!” She angrily takes a bite of her riceball, making sure to chew thoroughly as well as swallow before speaking once more. “And Mimiko says Megumi was asking her for her notes a lot more now!”

“And everytime I ask him what’s wrong, he flinches and tells me that it was nothing. Then he tells me that he wants to eat more carrots!”Fushiguro Tsumiki has a hand on her cheek as her shoulders slump and her head rolls onto your lap.

“Boys are so hard to read…”

And you’re contemplating. Just a little bit as you lightly pinch your daughter’s cheek and think just that little bit more.

The squinting, odd glare when talking, the pressing of his face against magazines, the asking of notes from his sister in the same grade as him, the carrots, the refusal to admit that anything was wrong with him—

Does your Megumi… Have eyesight problems?

It would make sense, honestly. For him to keep such a problem to himself thinking that he could fix it with time all on his own—

Oh, that silly boy.

Notes:

“Megumi? You should’ve told me sooner.” You’re holding his hand as you both take a trip to the optometrist, his face in a blank, almost angry pout as he’s lead forward.

“It’s my own problem anyway. I made my eyes like this so—“

“Megumi.” And he shuts up at your stern tone, at your hardened expression and your disapproving gaze.

You crouch down beside him, meeting his height as you lightly squeeze his held hand. His gaze was now downcast, shifted awkwardly to be looking at the floor as he nervously gulps and avoids meeting your eyes.

He’s definitely guilty.

“You know that you would never bother me.” Your hand is in his hair and ruffling those stuck-up strands of black. “And you’ll never trouble me, no matter how bad of a problem you’ve run into.”

“And if you feel like you can’t approach your fathers,” You have to take a deep breath in as his hair falls over his eyes and obscures his gaze. “There’s always me you can turn to. Your sisters would be more than happy to listen as well.”

“So don’t go thinking that you’re alone, okay?”

He’s still your son, no matter what he thinks, after all.

masterlist

[occamstfs]

Ain't No Place For A City Boy

Well this one was quite a bit longer than I intended it to be, Here's a ranch hand TF! Hope y'all enjoy and Happy Eclipse Day! -Occam

Day One

Buckley would never deign to visit a ranch of his own volition. Apparently once he left for college his dad visited this place quite frequently, but a habitual indoor kid Buckley never sought to join him. His father recently passed and his last request for Buckley was to give this place a chance. Homebody he may be Buckley was not going to ignore a deathbed request to just try some manual labor so here he is, luggage packed standing outside Stockman August’s Ranch. 

He fights back a grimace as he reminds himself to keep an open mind, eyes going slightly wide as a massive man starts approaching him from the homestead. He repeats various mantras under his breath; I can do anything for a week yeah? It’s for dad, it’s not like they’ll have me do something I don’t want to do.

Buckley throws up a performative smile as August approaches close enough to see it, he stands there frozen waiting for the man to offer some pleasantry. He throws out a hand to shake and asks, “You Austin’s son?” steely eyes under a furrowed brow observing and assessing the weak man before him. Buckley quickly goes to shake August’s hand, doing his best to manifest the strong handshake his dad had always endeavored to teach him but his hand simply cannot near the strength this man expects of his ranch hands. August makes no attempt to hide his own grimace looking at the sorry state of Buckley.

He turns to go back to the ranch, hands in his pockets expecting Buckley to get his own luggage as he shouts back, “gotta room for ya upstairs. Ya missed dinner, but we’ll get a plate for made. Work starts tomorrow.” Buckley just stares blankly as the cowboy wanders off, biting his tongue as he forces a smile onto his face one more. If he keeps it up maybe he’ll trick himself to not be stewing in irritation. He struggles behind August with his heavy luggage trailing behind, taking great care not to disparage this whole experience as he feels his open mind already being tested. 

Finally stumbling into the doors, Buckley finds a friendlier face in a younger ranch-hand Beau. All smiles, Beau welcomes him to the Ranch “Yew must be August yeah? August said yew’d be around, did’ya need some help with yer bags?” Buckley firmly latches onto the helping hand wordlessly taking all the help Beau is willing to offer, blushing as the man easily hauls all of his bags up the stairs and into his room.

Finding his accommodations, Buckley is less than pleased that there are three beds in the room. The light drops from his eyes as he realizes what a scam this whole mess is. He’s paying to share a room with two men? Seeing disdain painted across Buckley’s expression he quickly goes to assure him, “Hey now, ‘s not so bad Buck! I know there’re three beds but it’ll just be you and me in here and cross my heart I’m a terrific roommate! Or I was, uh, in university?” Buckley squints his eyes at the man before him, seeing his eyes go blank as if he’s adrift in his own mind and scratching at his chin. Rather than addressing his clear state of confusion, Buckley instead goes to correct his new roommate, “It’s Buckley actually, if you don’t mind.”

This snaps Beau out of it as he returns to assuaging Buckley without missing a step, “Sorry partner! I’ll try to remember that. How ‘bout I go on and get yew something to eat. Think there’s still some chili left. ‘ll that work for yew?” Buckley nods and Beau quickly makes to grab him a bowl from downstairs, repeating Buckley’s name to himself under his breath to avoid calling him Buck. In his absence Buckley begins to less than sneakily snoop around the room for anything he can learn about this horrible camp or his theoretically not abhorrent roommate. It is shockingly hard to find any personal effects of Beau, he thought he saw a degree on the wall but upon a double-take and closer inspection it just turned out to be a list of chores for the upcoming week.

As he inches over to Beau’s part of the room he smells something horrible from his closet, sure he can quickly sneak a peak before his roommate returns he opens the door to see pair after pair of dirty overalls filling the floor of the closet. As he opens the door a few spill out into the room proper as Beau returns with supper for Buckley. He looks away out of embarrassment and exhales out of his nose, before chewing out Buckley, “now why’d yew hafta go and do that there Buck- Buckley. Coulda just asked ‘S plain rude.” He stands tall over Buckley as he walks over with food. Buckley sees genuine anger appear in the eyes of the man towering over him before it fades to a smile and he pats Buckley on the back, “Not that yew’ll mind soon,” laughing, “I’m sure after a week here there’ll be at least this much laundry!” He rolls his eyes at this and begins to ask Beau about the ranch.

“How long have you been visiting here Beau?” Beau smiles and answers as he puts the bowl down, “I've been here for years bud! Originally was just a visitor but I loved it so much August went ‘n hired me and I’ve loved it ever since.”

Buckley’s eyes narrow in suspicion as he starts to eat, “I see, so you worked here while doing your studies?” Beau just briefly looks in confusion before bursting out in laughter, “my studies? As if kid, I ain’t a city boy like you ha! Anythin’ I need to know I learned from August! I’m sure you’ll learn a thing or two from him as well, certainly already eatin’ like a country boy haha!”

Buckley looks down to find he’s already nearly done with this bowl that had enough meat to stuff him two times over and burps in embarrassment. How could he possibly have scarfed it down so quickly without even noticing. Beau laughs once more seeing how embarrassed the newbie is and goes on to explain exactly how things work around the ranch. “It’ll be a long day tomorrow but I’m sure you won’t do nuthin’ too hard. Probably gardenin’ s’where he usually throws weaklings like you. Oh, uh sorry ‘bout that Buck- ah! Buckley.” 

Buckley smiles kindly at his roommate as he stumbles through this attempt at helping. It’s not like he minds being called a weakling, and if all he has to do tomorrow is garden he certainly won’t mind. He yawns as he continues to listen to Beau, slightly tilting over as he starts to fall asleep. Surely there wasn’t something in that chili, he thinks as he tries to stay conscious. Seeing him begin to drift asleep Beau goes to catch him and carry him to a bed, “boy all that eatin’ sure tired yew out huh. Dontcha worry kid, I’ll wake yew in time for chores tomorrow.”

In his presumably chili-based stupor Buckley dreams only briefly. He’s back in the office watching as papers and contracts pile up on the desk. Phones ring incessantly and a crowd of people demanding things of him as they walk towards him shouting. He turns over in bed uncomfortably as in the dream he turns to look out the window and sees an open field with horses running free. He sees Beau riding a stallion and motioning for him to join. Or it looks like Beau? He looks larger, his beard has filled out.  Before Buckley can even think to react he’s awakened by his roommate, blushing as he realized he dreamed of him beckoning. There must have been something weird in that chili.

Day Two

Hearing August downstairs Beau sprints out the door to hear the day's orders. Not having the awareness, or at the moment desire, to rush to attention Buckley takes his time getting ready. As he changes into an outfit to garden he finds himself thinking of his roommate. Didn’t Beau seem taller standing over his bead to wake him up today. He sure didn’t have that beard yesterday, though he did in the dream. God, did that shirt really flatter his pecs as well. Buckley finishes getting ready and struggles to shift his attention from the warmth growing in his crotch. Maybe there’s something to be gained from visiting this ratty camp after all. 

Stepping out the door he bumps directly into August who just grunts in response. Buckley falls backwards to the floor and the Stockman just glares down at him as a command issues from deep in his chest, “Be ready tomorrow morning. Don’t care who yer daddy is, I ain't gonna let some city pansy sit around and distract my boys. Today yer gardenin’ do good and maybe you’ll get to try some real man’s work tomorrow.” Buckley recoils as August spits on the floor next to him, sneering down and grumbling about how much he hates city tourists. Buckley grits his teeth as a strange new feeling begins to grow in his chest. 

Rather than the persistent voice in his head demanding he just back out of this hellhole, after bumping into the Stockman he finds himself wanting to prove the old man wrong. He rolls up his sleeves and rushes to the vegetable garden and gets to work. He doesn’t question how he knows the way or how proficient he seems at harvesting and tending to the vegetable garden. His mind grows pleasurably numb as he roots out weeds and plucks out food enough for tomorrow's dinner. He feels his mouth water in excitement at the upcoming meal as he wipes sweat from his brow, getting dirt all over his face and jarring him out of his apparent trance state. 

Buckley looks out in shock at the garden that he has somehow expertly cared for. There’s a large basket full of greens ready to be washed and a pile of trimmings as proving h that he’s even pruned the garden. He stumbles back knowing he couldn’t possibly have done that to any degree of success, with any amount of self-interrogation he would find that even greater than shock was a fear of disappointing August. His mind recovers both from the numbness and the shock as he goes to check whatever damage he’s done. Looking closely however he is filled with a degree of pride in his work, he’s really done a superb job here! He grins to himself seeing what adept work his hands have worked, consciously or not. No real surprise though, after all he’s been doing this for- Uh, well this can’t be the first time he’s gardened right? Did his dad teach him how to do this? He must have. Buckley wipes dust from his hands as he looks out to see whatever work the other ranch hands have gotten done. 

His gaze turns strangely wistful as he sees them herding the animals through the pasture. Just like in his dream he sees Beau atop a stallion controlling the beast like the paragon of a ranch hand, sweat dripping from his brow as he pulls down a bandana to smile and wave at Buckley. He starts to shout “Hey Buck-” before being interrupted by a sharp whistle from August standing at the edge of the field. Every man, Buckley included, knows that must mean dinner’s ready. He rushes to change into something not covered in dirt and finds an outfit on his bed, he didn’t remember packing this ratty tshirt or hat, maybe it’s Beau doing a favor. Regardless he throws it on so he can try to make it on time to dinner.

Arriving just in time the Stockman gives him a curt nod and gestures to the empty seat next to Beau. He happily sits and meets the other ranch men. He can’t feel deep inside that something about these boisterous men should put him off but the thought slides off his mind as their energy only riles him up more. The oldest ranch hand shouts over the rest to chat with Buckley, “Now Buck, you shoulda seen Beau when he first started workin’ here. Was a beanpole of a kid he was and look at him now!” Beau looks away from Buckley as he tries to hide his embarrassment, this however only highlights the power of his traps and neck that only entices Buckley more. Staring at his roommate he doesn’t even think to correct the old man for calling him Buck.

One of the other ranch hands tosses Buckley a beer, normally he would never stoop to drink the swill but if there’s nothing else handy he might as well. He finds himself thinking that he could use the calories, as if that’s something he’s ever been concerned about. Buckley starts to down the bottle before Beau puts his arm over him and shakes him shouting, “Look attcha Buck, er Buckley, already one of the guys! And what’d I say yer already less prissy, got some dirt right on yer face.” Beau goes to do Buckley a favor and wipe it off when he finds it's not dirt but sideburns growing on a face that was unmissably clean-shaven this morning. Buckley feels it too and quickly goes to rub his cheek in shock.

At the head of the table August sits silently and takes in all the chaos happening in front of him. His small horde of ranch hands all scarfing down their meals and chugging their beer so they may get back out there and finish their chores. He rubs his gray stubble as he appraises the spirit and physicality of the men before him. His eyes shift to Beau, pleased at how well he’s already filling out his clothes, clearly ready to move up a size or two. 

He then looks towards the freshest meat sitting next to Beau. He was impressed with the work the kid got done, not of his own accord of course, August’s eyes sparkle imperceptibly as he feels proud of his own work spurring the man to be better. This ain’t no place for some city boy, but Buckley’s already starting to carry his own weight. August wanted to see just how fast he might go beyond that. He’s Austin’s kid after all August thinks before grumbling to demand the table's attention as he walks to stand behind Buckley. “Tomorrow. Buck’ll join the rest of ya in the fields. Ya’ll go on and show him the ropes then. Needs to get rest so he can start real work. He’ll go on and turn in now.”

Buckley starts to speak and protest, not of the opportunity but of being told to turn in early. He opens his mouth to speak but turning to look at his Stockman he feels the weight of sleep overcome his mind. His eyes grow heavy and his stomach grumbles. Bickley turns to find that he has well finished his dinner. All the other ranch hands have vacated as he sits in front of a few discarded cans of beer and multiple servings of the meal, August pats his shoulder and dismisses him, “see ya tomorrow youngin don’t let me down. Don’t let your old man down. Become the man you ought to be.”

Buckley stumbles up the stairs drunkenly and bloated before collapsing into his bed once more. Immediately drifting to sleep he feels his body lie there dead as a rock as a pervasive soreness and itch fills his subconscious. This easily shifts to a primal lust-filled hunger. The feeling of his chest itching against his bedsheets becomes grinding against Beau’s body in his mind. His stubble pushing out into a scruffy beard in the waking world goes unnoticed as dreams of his tongue forcing itself into his roommate's mouth, knocking the hat off his head as he throws all his weight against him. The musk of many hard-days work and that of a lustful slumber merge as a copious amount of sweat swiftly stains Buckley’s sheets. 

The ache in his stomach begins to dissipate as his body forces itself to grow. He humps his bed as he does Beau in his dream, each time his arms press larger. His scrawny chest begins to grow real weight, each grind into his bed straining his new t-shirt as it too begins to change, revealing the growing pecs as well as hair pushing out all over his chest, and a forest that is never to smell fresh again growing in his pits. His cock was already filling his jeans when he collapsed into the bed, as his jeans grow to accommodate his growing waistline they struggle to keep up with the constant surges of growth in his crotch. He moans loud enough to wake his sleeping roommate as he loses control in his dream. Beau smirks to himself as he knows what it’s like to get so riled up and palms his own cock wondering what Buckley’s dreaming of.

Day Three

Buckley awakens at the first light of day, his hand shoved in his pants covered in still drying cum. He hops out of bed wiping his hand on his sheets and he tosses on a hat before racing down the stairs, excited for another- No. his first day on the ranch outright. He passes some new luggage in the living room, just like that he had brought all that time ago. He briefly tries to remember why he didn’t think to grab clothes from it this morning before remembering instead he wasted time watching Beau stretch and get ready. He meets August on the porch who hands him a mug of coffee and sending him off towards a stable. 

Just as the day before Buckley’s eyes glaze over and his mind is overcome with a comforting thoughtless buzz as he starts going about acting with an unconscious precision. He pulls all the levers and gates to release the cows to graze. He wanders around checking for any peculiarities of the stable, confident he would notice anything out of place, his foggy mind obscuring his personality growing brasher and more self-assured by the second. He meanders alongside the cows, petting them all in the right spots as if he reared them himself. He feels his lips move without his input, calling specific cows by name, recognizing them as soon as their names leave his mouth.

While his mind remains adrift he finds himself thinking once more of his dream and Beau, his Beau? He tries to maintain focus on inspecting the cows, but as his pulse quickens as the thought of disappointing August hits him like a shot of adrenaline, he is no longer able to move unknowingly as his thoughts race and his hands shake as he remembers. He stares at his shaking hands as they are unquestionably too large, dark hair crawls up from his wrists making way to soon grow onto his upper arms. He sees the muscle filling his biceps quiver and flex as he ambulates at all. He puts his face in his hands, feeling the beard scratch against them, as he tries to recall further. His shirt suddenly itches beyond imagination and it tosses it to the floor, baring his chest as it expands even more powerfully with each heaving breath. Hair thickening in dark waves down the whole of his torso.

His ears ring as if there was an explosion as he struggles to stay standing, this isn’t who he is. Right? He’s been here for like a week? His mind blaring as it contradicts itself saying he has been here even less than that but also so much longer. Buckley stamps his feet down in rage as he tries to remember any truth at all. He, he was supposed to train to be a rancher today, right? But it can’t be his first day, he did his part like he’s a professional. He is a professional no? He’s been doing this for- He can’t remember, he was gardening just yesterday wasn’t he?

Buckley scans the farm looking for Beau, or August, anyone who can offer some immediate answer. Instead the only figure he can see is one he can’t recognize, some kid that’s doing the gardening. Buckley sees him grimace as he makes his way through the garden, harvesting quickly but efficiently. He rolls his eyes, sure that he could do a better job than whoever that little bitch is. The thought that he is a spitting image for the man that Buckley was not but twenty-four hours ago does not even begin to occur to him. For Buckley is not that man anymore. He looks down to see veins trailing across his arms, pumped from the effort of moving hay bales and readying all the dairy cow equipment. 

August whistles once more calling everyone inside for dinner, this time Buckley can’t bring himself to care enough to change or even throw some deodorant on. Beau’s prediction of it being one week before the man would put work before hygiene has been blown out of the water, but neither could begin to recall. For this is who Buckley is, this is who he has always been. At dinner he is sitting directly across from the new gardener, Colton.

He stares daggers into him as the crew begins to dig in. He isn’t quite sure why he feels such rage at the weak man across from him, but it only grows worse as he starts to scarf his dinner. Words that August never even said to him echo in his head as he stares at the young man eating, this ain’t no place for a city boy. Seeing his roommates eyes darken under his thickening eyebrows Beau hits him in the shoulder, “Hey now play nice, Colton’ll be staying in our room so y’all two need to get along, right Buckley?” Averting his rage at the anxious twink across from him Buckley takes sudden umbridge at being called Buckley.

“Y’know, I think you may have had a point yesterday, Beau. Think it’s fittin’ if I just go by Buck.” Beau smiles at his roommate, playfully punching his arm before pulling him into a side hug. Neither man notices as an accent has suddenly imposed itself onto Buck’s voice. Across though Colton rolls his eyes as he sees the cowboys staring at each other so intently, more focused on them than the haste at which he is cleaning his plate.

Tonight, rather than sending one ranch hand to get some rest, August decides to treat his crew and give everyone the rest of the day off. To celebrate, all indulge in even heavier drinking than usual, Colton as the newbie is required to prove himself to the other ranch hands as Beau grabs a couple six packs and motions for Buck to follow him. The two head off towards a quiet corner of the ranch, where August would not be able to watch and the two just sit together and talk. There is a palpable gravity between their bodies as they sit and watch the sunset. Buck wants nothing more than to give in but his mind is suddenly murky once more. He struggles to ask Beau, “Beau, what, or how long have I been here at the ranch?”

Beau tossing back the last of a bottle just looks coily at his partner, “Now yew know as well as I do hon-” 

“No! I just want you to tell me.”

Taken aback Beau opens a bottle and offers it to Buck before continuing, “Well, y’see it’s just a little foggy ain’t it?” Buck’s eyes widen as if he’s cracked a case before saying as much though his mind is thrown into disarray as Beau goes on, “I remember you being new, but also, you’ve done worked here for years Buck?” The words hit Buck’s mind like a hammer on the anvil, the idea of him working at this ranch searing red hot into his mind as he coughs up the beer he was drinking. His eyes glaze over immediately as he drops the beer bottle, he doesn’t remember anything else of the night, at least not in the conscious world.

The last words of reality he remembers; Haven’t you worked here for years Buck. what is his mind to do besides stew on them, now given total creative liberty. He remembers first coming to the camp, he was the weak scrawny dweeb, but that was a time so far removed from the present that it may as well not be him at all, he was surely a teen at the time anwyay yeah? In his dream he remembers meeting Beau very soon after, the two hit it off immediately and become the exemplar ranch hands they clearly are today. Bizarrely he remembers seeing his father with August, but this is, it’s a dream? Surely his subconscious is just throwing spaghetti at the wall. He sees himself caring for the cows, feeding chickens, showing Colton how to garden. He sees Beau tending to the stallions, helping out in the kitchen, repairing the stables as is often needed.

He sees wrinkles start to appear in the corners of their eyes, white hairs start to speckle his beard as the years fly by in his mind. He watches as both he and Beau grow and maintain their bodies, every day working hard for the ranch, for August and Austin, and becoming the ideal that any cowboy, that any man should be. He remembers playfully mocking Beau as he went in to get another tattoo. He remembers Beau teasing him for the pride he takes in sculpting his body, and for plucking out his gray hairs. He is taken back to the first time they had sex, taking an uncharacteristic break from working in the stables to fuck behind the pens. His mind is filled with encounter after encounter, day after day of working hard together and retiring each night to the same room. He sees himself now, body still, lying in a bed next to a man he has clearly loved for longer than the entire life he lived before the ranch.

Day Four

Thus is how awakens. Nude in his thankfully private bedroom with his partner, his lover, Beau. He brushes Beau to help him awaken as he throws on some comfortable clothes for another day of work. Scratching his beard and offering a large dad yawn he makes his way to the common area where he sees Colton already dozing once more, lazy freeloader. Inspecting the new kid though he is pleasantly surprised to see that he must be going through a growth spurt, his midriff is exposed and he seems to be scratching his chest in his sleep. August must really know what he’s doin’ hm.

Speaking of the devil August rounds the corner and looks to Buck with a twinkle of pride in his eye. Both for the work he has done and will continue to do, and at the vitality and virility of the man before him. His father would be proud. Beau soon follows after, squeezing Buck’s shoulder and tossing his forgotten cowboy hat on the couch next to him, his scent in the air as he stomps by is more than enough to get Buck to think with his balls. Before he’s too far gone though August clears his throat and goes over the plans with the two clearly seasoned ranchers. 

Buck squeezes Beau’s ass as he heads out to the pastures, excited to prevail through another day at the ranch. He feels an outpouring of gratitude towards his dad for bringing him to this place. It made him who he is and he is more than eager to show other men exactly what they can be. No, what they should be.

[3minsover]

back on my steddie bullshit fr

Thinking about hope(ful)less romantic Steve driving to Eddie's trailer in the pouring rain to finally confess his love after months of dancing around each other and almost-confessions that crumble on the tips of their tongues before they can become anything real.

Steve finds himself pacing around the ground floor of a house that's too big and too quiet, thinking about a guy who should never, ever have taken up as much of his brain as he currently does. It's a Friday night, and Eddie's most likely out at a gig, or at a bar, or doing nerd shit. He's most likely doing anything but thinking about Steve. And yet here Steve is, entirely preoccupied with the reckless marvel that is Eddie Munson.

Fuck it.

It's been four months since Vecna, and everyone seems to be okay again. It's been long enough that it wouldn't be weird for Steve to make a move, right?

Before Steve can really consider what it is he's about to do, he has his keys in hand and he's heading out towards his car. He doesn't even realize it was raining until he steps out onto the porch, tugging the door shut behind him. And there's not much thought that goes into any of it, really. It's instinctive, the way Steve knows the route to Eddie's place by now. Regardless of the thrashing of his heart, there's an easy kind of familiarity in the sodden streets and jutting roads. Steve's windshield wipers are working double time, fending off the sheets of rain that pile down amidst the humidity of late July; it'd been a cloudless day until the sun set. But like the heaviness of Steve's heart, the clouds had begun to weigh themselves down with water, waiting for the moment where the heft of it all became too much.

Steve hadn't quite beaten those clouds to the punch.

He arrives at Eddie's with really no recollection of how he'd gotten there, only that he needed to see him and nothing was going to get in his way. Eddie's already sitting out on the porch when he pulls up. The dusty ground is darker, saturated with fat, relentless raindrops. Eddie sits on the steps of his trailer, only just covered by the awning. The toes of his sneakers shine with wetness.

"Why are you out here?" Steve asks, clambering out of his car. It's all he can think to say. It's not the words he wants to purge, not the things that have been itching in his throat every time they've been alone together for the last however-many weeks. But it's what comes out.

"Wanted to hear the rain," Eddie responds, a cigarette pinched between his thumb and pointer finger. It's a simple enough response. Shouldn't warrant a reaction. Only, Steve's standing a few yards away, dampening by the moment, and he needs to just get it out.

"I need to- I gotta talk to you," Steve stutters, drifting closer. Eddie's eyes narrow.

"About what?" he asks, clearly skeptical.

"About you. Or, me. Us. I- shit, I used to be good at this." Steve raises a hand to swipe over his mouth: it comes away wet. He's fucking soaked, standing defenceless against the onslaught from above. Eddie flicks the cigarette and the butt lands at the base of the steps. He hinges upright, dropping down a step until the raindrops begin to splatter onto his curls, landing like spits of silver against the glow of the street lamps overhead.

"Good at what?" Eddie calls through the low rumble of the rain.

"Good at- I dunno, confessions? I told Nancy how I felt about her no problem. Robin was a little tougher, but I still got through that, but with you," Steve gushes, entirely unsure as to where he's going with this, "I just can't seem to find the words."

For an impossible amount of time, Eddie stares. His pretty features seem to go through about a half dozen emotions before he settles on something that Steve's soul recognizes as pity. He prepares himself for inevitable rejection.

"You're telling me you can't find the words?" Eddie asks, incredulous, "Dude, i'm a songwriter, a fucking wordsmith, and I've been drawing a blank on you for months!"

Steve squints, a little at a loss.

"What?" he asks, feels stupid for not getting it straight away.

"Steve, I should be able to write songs about the guy I love, right?"

"Well- Yeah- I- Wait, what?" Steve starts before Eddie's words catch up. The rain's growing heavier, beginning to sting his cheeks a little, but he's fixed to the spot, not daring to move any closer. It's Eddie that draws nearer, dropping down the final steps until they're on even footing.

"If you hadn't- If you didn't come over here tonight, I was gonna- I was gonna come to you. I had this whole fuckin' speech planned out - I'm pretty sure it was stupid, honestly, but I wrote it anyway, because I have all these goddamn feelings about you, Steve. And I couldn't find a way to make them sound like anything other than what they are." Eddie's waves are flattening by the second, darkening under the weight of the water falling from above. Steve's heart pounds against his ribs, threatens to break free altogether.

"But I- I came here to- You're- Eddie?"

"Fuck sake, Steve. I'm-"

"Wait." Steve interrupts him, his brain catching up all at once, overfilling and spilling over. "Wait, just let me- Can I say what I was gonna say?"

Eddie folds his arms around himself, chilled by the rain despite the thick warmth of summer around them.

"Sure. Shoot."

Steve heaves in a breath.

"Okay. Eddie. I've been thinking, and you and me, we're good, right? Like, for each other." A droplet of rain catches between Steve's lashes, forcing him to blink it away. Eddie's slim figure remains in front of him, proving that this is real, this isn't some hallucination, some daydream borne of an idle brain. "I think you and me could be something good. Great, even. And I- I- I think I- I know you maybe said it already, and I shouldn't even be-" Eddie strides forward, closing the space between them in a breathless moment. Steve's breath catches in his throat. Eddie's dark eyes dart frantically between Steve's own, so round and wide and beautiful. Steve's so in love with him. "Eddie, I'm- I think I've... fallen in love with you." Steve skates his palms over Eddie's biceps, up and over his shoulders, until he's cradling the sides of Eddie's neck. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I'm in love with you."

Where they're so closely matched in height, Steve's eyes are crossing just to keep his gaze focused on Eddie, who's looking more like the proverbial deer in headlights right now.

"Shit, Harrington," Eddie breathes, and Steve feels it warm against his rain-chilled lips, "took you long enough."

It's a kiss that follows, soft and hesitant, like Steve would do anything but lean into it, like he's anything but head over heels, absolutely and embarrassingly in love. it's a kiss, and it's wet and a little too cold, a little too out in the open, but Steve wouldn't change it for anything.

[heartsforseo]

Luffy x jealous reader

A/n: All of these are just fiction. You are pretty, lovely, and beautiful <?33 Word count: 600 Request are open Warning: insecure reader but Luffy is beige so he comforts u

ft: Luffy, Boa

Requested: <yes> <no>

You love Luffy, you really do. But God, he’s so dense it hurts. Right now, he’s being fed by none other than the Kuja Empress herself, Boa Hancock. She even learned how to cook meat, just for Luffy!

Yeah, you can stand your ground in terms of attractiveness. But with the most beautiful woman? Yeah no, you’d wither away like a speck of dust.

You’re glad that Boa finds Luffy attractive. But at the same time sad. Luffy is handsome and strong. It makes sense that he’ll need a partner that can be on his level. And well, you’re quite far from it.

It doesn’t help that Luffy is oblivious to all this! Yes, Luffy is way smarter than he looks. And yes, he can be serious sometimes. But what does he know about love? He’s like a newborn child when it comes to it. If it weren’t for Robin pushing him to confess, you would’ve imploded!

It also doesn’t help that when the pirate empress first saw you, she was…disgusted. And when she looked back at Luffy, her heart and eyes went back. Not to mention, you also had a lesser portion of food being given to you.

Finally having enough, you left the scene and went back to you and Luffy’s shared room. You contemplated whether to just sleep at the ship for the rest of the week or stay in the castle.

You lay down on the futon, looking at the blank ceiling. Light filled the corner of your eyes. Standing there was Luffy and meat in his mouth.

He entered the room and closed the door. The two of you were silent, and an uncomfortable aura filled the area. Luffy swallowed the meat whole and then spoke, “Are you ok, Y/n?” You shifted your body and positioned it to stare at Luffy. “Of course, why would you think that?”

He tilted his head to the side and crossed his arms, “Well you seemed down when we were eating…was it because I stole all your food?!” He laughed, “You gotta be quick next time, Y/n.”

“I guess so,” you said. Your voice was dry and had no feelings. You shifted your weight back to your original position, and once again, looked at the ceiling.

Luffy frowned at your reaction and used his gum-gum fruit to snatch you out of the bed.

You gave out a little squeak and gasped, “Luffy!”

“Are you mad at me, Y/n?” He asked, pouting, “I’ll try not to steal your food anymore, ok?”

You smiled a bit from his gestures, “I’m not mad at you, Luffy. Just tired.”

“Really? But we’re having fun downstairs.”

“Well, you can go back down, Luffy. I’m not gonna stop you.”

Luffy looked at you for a while and finally spoke, “Nah.” He held your bridal style and went to the futon. He put the two futons close together and dropped you on top.

“Luffy?”

“Sanji said that if a woman is sad then you should spend time with them. So, I’m gonna cuddle with you tonight, Y/n!” He gave you a flashy smile and wrapped his rubber arms around you three times.

Morning came and you woke up from the sun shining on your eyes. You looked beside you and noticed Luffy still asleep, his hair was a mess, his mouth was wide open, and his arms were tightly wrapped around you.

You blushed from what you remembered last night and opted to wake up Luffy. But, you never had a day as peaceful as this. And so, you went back from your sleep and embraced him, once again.

A/n: I just want to let you all know THIS is just a fictional story. You are of course perfect just the way you are <?33

[ma1dita]

crazy little thing

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he spends all his drachmas to make you smile. Sometimes, the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite herself. Everyone’s tired of you two dancing around each other. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: lil valentines day special though im working on more est. relationship fluff after this!! happy season 2 renewal babies

(posted 2/9/24 unbetaed)

—

“Come on, you gotta admit—it’s kinda funny!” 

Luke is met with blank stares at the camp store after he places a few drachmas onto the folding table in front of the Apollo kids. They’re not sure if he’s trying to convince them, or himself.

Because yeah, that’s the excuse he goes for, wanting to spend his savings on having them sing to a certain head counselor instead of admitting his blatantly obvious feelings, so if you ask Lee Fletcher and his half-siblings, it’s kind of pathetic.

“What do we look like, a traveling mariachi band, Castellan?” he deadpans, watching the usually confident boy scratch the back of his neck with his face red like someone who’s been sitting out in the sun for too long. 

“I’m not saying to follow her around all day or whatever, just pick a random time to sing a song and catch her off-guard,” he insists, before meeting the judgmental look of one of Lee’s younger siblings.

Lee chuckles, ruffling his sister’s hair before looking at Luke quite seriously, “She’s a good friend. You’re gonna have to pay us more than that. Special song for a special lady after all.”

The son of Hermes knows he’s gonna regret this sooner or later, but proceeds to throw the rest of his meager earnings onto the table. He has other ways of being resourceful anyway, the box of chocolates he nicked from behind the store counter feeling heavy in his jacket pocket.

“Right… she’s just a friend.”

Luke’s hands fidget at his sides as he stands there, feeling a little stupid.

Lee’s little sister scoops up the coins from the table, her raised eyebrows and light aura mirroring that of her older brother. 

“What song were you thinking?” she asks, “Gotta make sure I know it if I’m singing it to your…friend.”

The 18-year-old boy tugs at his dark curls, getting more embarrassed and wanting to retreat with every minute that passes, but he’s never been one to back down from anything–swordfights, monsters, capture the flag, but this—trying to impress you...is a whole different story somehow.

Why are feelings so damn complicated? 

It feels like being at the butt of a joke, or more accurately—at the sharp edge of a sword, and Luke never lets his fights end in a draw.

“You guys got it covered. Just…surprise me too, I guess,” he sighs, walking off without finishing his sentence. He wishes he could pray a little harder to his dad for luck, even if he’s unsure of what exactly he’s wishing for (or if his dad will even listen).

“Castellan’s hopeless. You think he knows it yet?” the girl asks her brother, to which Lee laughs.

“I don’t think she does either, even though everyone else can see right through them. The new bets are on who’s gonna break first. Chiron’s been keeping track, but don’t tell Mr. D.”

If Luke wants a show, they’ll make sure he’ll get his money’s worth—and hopefully, it’ll push you two along faster. Lee bet on you two getting together before the summer after all, and he’ll be damned if he loses to Clarisse.

—

Valentine’s Day might be the day of love, but for you, someone who’s single (not by choice), and heavily busy with making sure people aren’t so…enamored in public (you’ve lost count of the reports you’ve written out due to indecent behavior this morning alone)---this just feels like another Wednesday, except with more hormonal teenagers with uncontrollable urges than usual. 

Oh, the joys of being the daughter of the camp director, also known as everyone’s favorite narc.

Honestly, love can suck it. With this much love in the air, you can feel it suffocating you like a plastic bag over your head. 

That’s an uncontrollable urge. Too much?

Maybe Silena was right, you do need to open yourself up more to romantic opportunities. But if you have to watch another person swap spit and get pawed at like they’re the last dinner roll at the table…. You might commit arson and set this place ablaze.

You just didn’t understand why people had to go all out today of all days. Shouldn’t love be shown year-round? Though you were a person of theatrics and enjoy a good show, it is amazing how much grandiose displays of affection make you cringe. It felt very performative, instead of genuine, and you would know, you’re the best actress at camp. You’ve acted out stories before, knowing all of the greatest romances and tragedies by heart. And you pride yourself on being a decent teacher to the campers, but for some of them, love still translates to a bad rendition of a ballad they heard on the radio.

Nothing gets past you at this point.

But that sucks too sometimes, you know?

Multiple failed flings and a heartbreak or two weigh down on you on days like this one, as you’re stuck being a bystander to outlandish displays put on by the Aphrodite kids being put to work. Love is their domain anyway, and yours…makes you feel a little less undesirable. Each demigod has their own strengths and weaknesses, but perhaps in the name of love, some of them don’t know how to take a hint. Several forgettable prose readings, a Sparknotes version of Eros and Psyche, and too many red roses to count have you reeling from exhaustion and a bit of disgust—-and it’s only lunchtime. 

So yeah, maybe you’re a little jealous; they could call you Nemesis at this point.

The only flowers you got today were from the little kids from along the path to the strawberry orchard, and though it’s sweet—the human side of you misses affection. 

Devotion. 

To be a daughter of Dionysus meant to deal in extremes, obsession or nothing, and there are very few people who can handle that. Always being too much to handle, or uninterested as a defense mechanism. Perhaps that’s what scares admirers away. 

That, or the fact that Luke Castellan is always attached to your hip. To be honest, you’ve always preferred it that way—the both of you working as a pair always gets things done faster around camp and he brightens your mood, whether you admit it or not. 

But you two are just friends. 

Really good friends who look for each other in crowded rooms, hands constantly brushing against the other for comfort, and able to pick up where the other one leaves off. Usually he’s the first person you see in the morning, and the last person you say goodnight to. You know how he likes his coffee and he cuts your apples for you as you two sit together in your unassigned seats in the dining pavilion. You watch each other’s workshops and if one of you is missing, everyone knows to ask the other to get an answer.

Right? That’s totally normal coworker/friend behavior.

If you were ever given immortality, perhaps they’d make you the goddess of denial.

You’re sweeping up confetti from the dining hall floor after an uncoordinated excuse of a flash mob was performed for one of the Demeter kids… and not to sound like a heinous bitch, but maybe next time they should use something biodegradable… or less messy. Sighing deeply, you feel someone’s eyes on you, and when you look up, Luke’s standing there with two full plates of food.

“Take a break, Trouble. No one’s paying you overtime,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes as you put the broom aside.

“No one’s paying me at all…” you groan, before taking the plate out of his hands and knocking your head against his shoulder in thanks. He snickers as his hand brushes the small of your back, tickling your spine as he leads you to sit at a table.

“Just another holiday. You know how it is.”

“It’d be nice to have a night off though. Sometimes I regret taking up the position,” you mumble through spoonfuls of soup. He throws his large hand over your shoulder, kneading some tension from your trapezius. Head jerking along with the movements, you giggle as soup dribbles off your spoon, which makes his lips quirk into a small smile. Being around you felt so thoughtless and easy that if you told him to jump off a bridge he’d do it without question, which should be more concerning—the hold you have on him is irrevocable. Feelings are way too difficult for his teenage brain to comprehend at this stage. It’s easier to wash dishes with lava or fight off a dragon (bad example, he knows, but there’s something about you that already makes him feel like he’s losing before anything’s even happened).

Luke is someone who fights until the end, a soldier who’s always trained and so ready for anything that sometimes it makes you wonder what war he’s preparing for. Infatuation, or the scarier, four-letter word was not something he was ever briefed on.

“No, you don’t. You’re a control freak,” he says with a grin. 

Luke watches you play with the pendant on your necklace, the dragon scale he fashioned into your favorite accessory glinting in your hand. Running your fingers back and forth over the smooth surface, your other hand puts the spoon down and you place your head on his shoulder. He thinks if he had to describe the four-letter word on the tip of his tongue, he’d tell whoever’s asking about the way you kissed his healing cheek after you both left the Garden of Hesperides. More than a year later, Luke is still unable to find the right words even if the weakness has made a home in his heart with your name written all over it.

“I swear if I have to hear another person croak out a lovesong I might just drown myself in the Long Island Sound,” you scoff as his fingers trace circles onto your waist.

There’s a low strum of a guitar that reaches your ears and your forehead meets the cool surface of the table as you shut your eyes and grumble. It’s Lee and his half-siblings, beginning to walk through the hall seconds away from singing until they see Luke shaking his head and dragging his finger across his throat to please, gods, stop. The Apollo kids swivel and 180, walking out of the hall as the music stops dissonantly, rolling their eyes and dragging their feet.

“That was quick,” you say inquisitively as your head pops up from the table to see Luke looking off in the distance.

“Heh… I think they were just practicing or something…”

He then had to run off and pay them more drachmas for the inconvenience. 

Fucking hustlers.

—

The sun sets quickly on Camp Half-Blood since it’s mid-February, and Luke finds you trying to calm your nerves as you look at the mess of glitter and paper mache that covers the arts and crafts hall from floor to ceiling.

“I can’t believe this!” you say in disbelief as you look at Luke, and he takes the can of Redbull out of your shaking hand.  

“There’s just no fucking way everyone decided to use glitter. It’s everywhere! I’m—CONNOR, PUT THE SCISSORS DOWN!”

Luke sighs as he holds his hand out for his younger brother to give up the craft scissors, which he relinquishes with a mischievous grin. 

“Guys, go find trouble somewhere else,” Luke mutters, pushing his head away, and where Connor goes, Travis quickly follows, tossing a canister of glitter back at him and not knowing it was still open.

“Oops.” 

Immediately, the both of you are showered in iridescent particles, floating over your heads and stuck in your hair as the older Stoll brother looks at the two of you wide-eyed.

“You've already got Trouble anyway,” he says teasingly, and this asshole winks at Luke before bolting out the door.

The room is silent now, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, before speaking, “I don’t care if he’s your brother, Luke. I might just fucking kill him.” You'd say more but your eyes are shut as you try not to breathe in glitter, and then the sound of the doorknob rattling catches your attention. Luke is standing there, finally faced with a door he can’t open, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance–but the effect isn’t as menacing as it should be when he’s covered in red and pink sparkles.

“Not if I get to him first, the little bastard.”

“Just open the door,” you say panicked, running over and forcing his hands off the doorknob.

“I can’t if you won’t let me do it!” He grits, elbowing you and trying to unlock the door with both his inherited gift and brute strength.

“What kind of demigod even are you? Lockpicking is supposed to be your thing!”

“Well OBVIOUSLY, but it’s not working, now is it, Trouble?”

Luke finishes off the rest of your energy drink before throwing the can over his shoulder and he swears he can hear you cuss at him under your breath as you berate him about the mess, so he chooses to focus on busting the door down instead of looking at the glitter stuck in your eyelashes and thinking about how the idea of being stuck in a room with you makes him feel weak at the knees.

Through the window, his eyes meet the group of Apollo kids staring at the predicament you two are in (and the barricade of chairs the Stolls put in front of the door). He sighs, and Lee’s little sister flips him off as they start to walk away again, instruments in tow.

“You gonna charge him again?”

A tiny Will Solace looks at his elders for guidance as they walk along the path. As one of the youngest in the bunch, he especially idolizes anything his half-siblings do, going along with whatever they see fit.

“No, but we’re close enough to the archery range that I might just shoot them through their hearts myself. Eros and Aphrodite themselves are pretty much begging us to,” Lee grumbles.

“Why are we doing this again?” Will babbles, and his half-sister grabs his hand to help him walk faster.

“A crazy little thing called love. You’ll understand it better someday, kid.”

—

Thankfully, it all starts winding down after dinner. Luke finds you leaning against a tree flipping through your clipboard during the camp sing-along, so he tugs at your elbow to get your attention.

“Wanna get out of here?”

You look at him, slotting your pen behind your ear as you notice faint glitter particles still dotted along his cheeks. As your lips pull into a small smile, you say, "I still have a few things to do after this, don't you?"

"Cleared your schedule for the night," he mumbles, and whether it's the glow of the bonfire or he's actually blushing, a teasing expression crosses your face as you step closer and cross your arms at him.

"You cleared my schedule for the night. How on earth did you do that?"

Instead of a proper reply, he grabs your hand, tugging you out to the docks near the lake.

"Don't worry about it."

He's not going to tell you that he owes Chris and Annie a few favors before the end of the month to make up for the night shift they ended up taking. Instead, you both sit cross-legged at the edge of the dock, a gentle breeze brushing at your clothes and for the first time today, you're able to just exist.

"I hate Valentine's Day," you suddenly say, looking up at the night sky, and he's watching you closely as the gentle shine of the moon casts a cool glow on your face. Luke cringes at your statement, thinking he's already thrown away his shot.

"Why's that?"

"Tell me something Luke, am I unlikable? Like, is there anything wrong with me?"

He looks at you like you've told him you’re secretly a cyclops.

“The fuck? How many times do I have to tell you that everyone thinks you’re great?"

You don't even give him a chance to finish his sentence before you blurt, "I don’t want to be great, I want to be loved!" Reeling back a little, you lean back on your hands to create some distance.

 “Sorry... that was a lot, and I’m just...wanting to be noticed. It's nice to have people's attention sometimes, you know?”

You’ve got all of mine, he thinks, realizing he never stood a chance at fighting it—this four-letter feeling you give him is the first and only battle he’ll back down from, and you're the only person he’ll wholeheartedly surrender to.

In short, he’s fucked.

"I always notice you." He pulls out a dented box of chocolates from his jacket pocket, opening it up for the both of you to share, and the look of amusement on your face makes him glad that at least one thing somewhat went to plan today, even if the chocolate truffles are a bit smushed. You’re popping one into your mouth and his dark eyes follow the trail of your fingers to your mouth, feeling his heart beat a bit faster.

But then you both hear the soft strum of a guitar from near the trees, and the two of you turn to hear some of the Apollo kids singing beautifully along the coastline.

I'll be seeing you, in all the old, familiar places... That this heart of mine embraces...

You gasp, grabbing Luke’s arm to push yourself up so that the both of you can turn and face a small group of your closest Apollo friends singing to the both of you. Luke’s eyes soften further when he feels you grab his hand and squeeze, leaning against his shoulder as you listen.

“Did you do this?” you mumble, still entranced by the performance.

“Only if it makes you laugh.”

And you do, in the way that he loves—a bit crazy and too loud, and it’s perfect.

I’ll always think of you that way… I’ll find you in the morning sun….

Whether it’s fireflies or Will bouncing light off the water to look like small, glowing candles, Luke can’t tell—he’s too busy watching your lips pull into a smile so confectionery his sweet tooth starts to ache. The little kid was never good at archery like his other half-siblings, but as your eyes shimmer under the ambient lights, you think his added romantic gesture shot you straight through the heart.

“You know, sometimes I really do hate you, Luke Castellan,” you whisper, and it couldn’t be more far from the truth.

“No, you don’t.”

His eyes flicker to you again, but you’re already looking back at him.

“I don’t.”

And when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon… but I’ll be seeing you…

It’s quiet now, and you’re unsure of where the Apollonian ensemble disappeared to but instead of worrying about if they’ll make it back before curfew, you stand there in front of Luke with your guard down.

Getting a little closer than he expected, your noses brush before you pull the slightly crushed wildflowers from your jean pocket, the only physical reminder you’ve kept from today, and tuck them into his jacket pocket, sitting right above his heart. 

“Thank you.”

Luke doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he feels your lips gently kiss the marred skin on his right cheek, the blemish having an uncanny resemblance to a stroke of lightning; it serves as a reminder of his weakness. The lines blur as his eyes close to savor it and he doesn’t know if weakness is your kisses or his scar—but he is vulnerable to it all the same, realizing there’s a crack in the otherwise perfect persona that he’s worked so hard on.

When his eyes open again, his Achilles’ heel has taken human form.

—

“This has got to be cheating,” Clarisse grumbles as she watches from the distance, hidden behind the trees.

“It’s not cheating if I’m winning. Silena’s gonna get a kick out of this,” Lee chuckles, ushering everyone back towards the cabins. It’s a bit harder to do this in the dark as they try to be quiet and not interrupt whatever will happen next between their favorite counselors.

“Well lucky for you, your gifts are cute and romantic, what am I supposed to do? They fight enough!”

“That’s what got them into this mess in the first place. Come on, curfew’s in 10. We’ll find out which of us wins the bet soon enough,” Chris mutters, pushing them along back onto the main path.

“Easy for you to say, Rodriguez, you live with Luke!”

“Would I ever lie to you, La Rue?” he says with a mischievous grin, and the Apollo kids giggle at the irony.

—

“My body ages,

my anger burns into a seam.

I am so annoyed by love

and still it comes.”

-Kate Baer

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[deadghosy]

MORE OF TRAILBLAZER!READER PLS PLS PLS PLS PLSSS, WHAT DOES THE ANGELS THINK OF TRAILBLAZER!READER???

HAZBIN HOTEL ANGELS X TRAILBLAZER! READER

prompt: how they viewed you in heaven was something no one excepted an angel like you to act.

I just gotta say. You are a fucking menace.

When you first appeared in heaven as the most beautiful thing with your golden eyes and two pair of wings….you weren’t the most nicest as you were too blunt.

“Is this a flash bang? Why the hell is it so bright here.”

everyone gasped at the H word as if this was kindergarten all over again

*cue you need to leave sound*

Sera had to put a few rules in your face. Literally a whole ass rule book as you sat there with a blank face saying. “Are you effing Fr?” Sera nodded and left leaving you with this HUMONGOUS ASS BOOK THAT REMINDED YOU OF FAIRLY ODD PARENTS

Sera founded you as a troubled youth that needs to see the rules all over again to see the true potential for you to stay in heaven.

Emily didn’t think of you being a troublemaker, she found you quite cool as you explored around heaven having the bravery to speak your mind and not let anything bring you down.

Emily and you got along great and fine as she calls you her little collector as you call her…just Em.

It was a late heavenly night as you stood up from your bed as you did a barrel roll for your balcony as you were starving for some digging. You rummage through the dumpster to find a nice old pearly necklace and a bracelet. “Emily would love this…” you said as you smiled not noticing a blonde haired lady watching you with an asumed smile.

The blonde haired lady from afar found you mysteriously cute and attractive as you roam the streets of heaven. 

ADAM HATES YOUR FUCKING GUTS😭😭

It all started when you was digging in trash. It was basically flirting for you to dig through it. *cue fuck boy face* AND THEN ADAM HAD SNUCK BEHIND YOU READY TO INSULT YOU-

But you kicked him straight in his fucking chin-

That horse ass kick gave him a bruise on his chin for legit 2 weeks

You once blasted music in your apartment…I mean shit it was good music you got from the human world you use to live in. You got so much noise complaints but thanks to Emily, she made it seem like you weren’t causing issues.

Lute has no opinions on you, she just doesn’t have time to even look at you. Even though you sometimes break in her place to eat all her food like the raccoon you are.

One day you actually caused trouble in heaven just because you decided to dig in a lady’s trash bin from outside.

“HEY GET OUT OF MY DARN TRASH BIN YOU RACCOON!” An angel yelled from her window throwing her boom at you as you swung your metal bat at her that you totally didn’t find in the trash nights ago…..

The lady screamed ducking as the bat went back into your grasp like a boomerang. “THATS IT! IM CALLING THE GUARDS!”

And so that was your cue to run as if your life depended on it as you thrown a rotten banana peel you found in your pocket. You still had one in your mouth.

And that’s how your 1 month trial ended because you fought bitches for your trash.