#is it the sixth camera sense? maybe

[pineapplefulfillseveryneed]

So I saw this post by @taintmansion:

Followed by these tags from @dinkydiamond:

...and I knew my time had come. Behold:

[propertyofwicked]

WAS IT REAL? - LN

lando is at risk of losing his job if he doesn't clean up his image, and his best friend needs a way of travelling the world. they come up with a flawless plan - which could not possibly go wrong, right?

based on this request! (i went a little overboard im sorry) ✧ my inbox is open! ✧

warnings - fluff, angst, small allusion to smut at the end - fake dating to lovers hehe. also, 5k words??? who am i?? (writen BEFORE the miami gp!! i needed a few days to recover lol)

the song inspo for this got removed from spotify but it is based on "was it real" by ben rodrigues <3

masterlist the playlist

✧ tell me was it real...

...or was it just pretend? ✧

“and now i’ve had zak sit me down and essentially said ‘we don’t hire slags’”

“he said that your recent behaviour was causing concern for mclarens image - not that you were a slag, lan.”

“same thing,” he argued, ”i’m 24 for gods sake, if i want to speak to women in a nightclub that shouldn’t be any of zak’s business.”

“i think it became his business when someone filmed you, in your mclaren, having what im sure was a lovely conversation with the girl sat on your lap,” she teased back, emphasising her words slightly. he huffed at, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant back into her sofa.

lando had walked into her flat 20 minutes prior, as he had hundreds of times before, threw himself down on her sofa and launched into a long rant about the meeting he had just come from.

since he was at the woking offices, zak had taken the opportunity to discuss the several occasions in recent weeks where lando had been caught in predicaments with multiple different women. when he finally left, zak’s ultimatum ran through his brain on a loop as he drove to one of his closest friends houses.

“clean your image up, or we’ll have to reconsider the possibility of you having a seat next year.”

“it sucks, lan, but i really don’t know how i can help you here,” y/n told him, moving a stack of research notes to the table before sitting cross legged next to him so that her body faced his.

y/n l/n was a newly graduated environmental researcher, who was taking a year out to decide what kind of work she wanted to pursue. she needed to travel, see the world, and experience all elements in her field before she could make that decision - but travelling was expensive and she could not afford to be in anymore debt after university.

“i have an idea,” lando announced, the realisation of what he was about to propose never really settling.

“that’s never good,” she joked.

“no, no hear me out -” he started, “i need to look like a man in a stable relationship, you need to see the world.”

“yeah? so?” she questioned, confused as to where he was going with this.

“look, it’s ok if you say no. i’m just saying - you could pretend to be my girlfriend and use the opportunity to travel the world and research your little bugs.”

“i don’t know, that seems a bit…deceitful?” y/n replied, yet the idea mulled in her brain more than she wished.

“just a few public appearances. you come with me to my races and use it as a research opportunity. maybe stay in monaco with me for a bit? let people film us being domestic and that?” lando replied, stuttering as he tried to think of more reasons - truly, he had started talking before he’d really thought it through.

“it’s tempting,” she replied slowly, “and for the last time lando, i do not study bugs, i study the environments they live in.”

“all expenses paid, travelling the world, looking at trees across the world,” he added teasingly, “- and all you have to do is hold my hand in public,” he finished, trying to summarise the arrangement.

“ok.”

“ok?”

“yeah, what’s the worst that can happen?”

✧ tell me all the places that you wanna see...

....i can take you all the places that you've never been ✧

the two of them fell easily into a natural act, almost gaining a sixth sense for cameras and fans and reaching for each other. it started small - a hand on her back, standing close to each other, being seen arriving and leaving together. but it hadn’t been enough, many pointing out that y/n had been at races and stayed with him in monaco multiple times, and concluding the two were still, just friends.

so they upped the ante. lando began holding her hand when they walked anywhere together, kissing her forehead lightly as they both pretended to be clueless to the snapping of cameras. at the last race, y/n had spotted a reporter and made a quick decision to tug at lando’s fireproof, pulling him down and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“that’s new,” he had told her, laughing lightly, but keeping his hands firmly on her waist.

“camera,” she told him, smiling up at him as he nodded.

and lando kept up his end of the deal, the two of them using the week of the australian grand prix to visit the great barrier reef.

their plan was working - the two were elated that people were finally putting the pieces together and believing the two really were together. even zak began to notice the positive effect y/n had on not only his image, but lando’s entire life.

“say y/n,” zak started as he walked up to the woman, “you work in environmental protection, don’t you?”

“i guess you could say that,” she responded, too tired to correct him, and slightly startled that he’d approached her as she sat minding her own business in the garage before the race began.

“we’re doing some work with the barrier reef group and oscar in a few days - would you consider being a sort of environmental advisor? just tell oscar a few things that he could talk about for the project?” he asked her assertively, smiling as her eyes widened at the request.

“i’d love to! but im supposed to be flying back tomorrow. let me ask lando later and ill get back to you?” she replied.

“sure,” he replied, smiling at her again before returning to his job. she was filled with excitement, it wasn’t often that she got to talk about her degree, and being able to contribute to a project of this scale was an amazing opportunity.

and her excitement only continued throughout the race, a feeling she always got watching lando compete, but overwhelmed when he cross the line 3rd. y/n ran round to join the rest of the mclaren team at the pit lane, watching as the podium cars pulled in and the drivers hopping out to celebrate with their teams.

lando climbed out, removing his helmet quickly before turning, scanning the crowd for y/n, and half sprinting when he spotted her. later, he would celebrate with his team, but for now he ran to her, pulling her in closely as he pressed his lips hastily to hers, pulled in closer by her hands cupping his jaw. when they pulled away, he kept her close to his embrace.

“im so proud of you,” she told him, smiling as he bent down to kiss her again, before rushing off to join his team.

y/n tried so hard to push away the feeling rising in her stomach - she didn’t like him like that, it was just the excitement of watching her friend succeed. so she ignored it, the same way she pushed away the feeling she got every time he calls her angel, even when they were alone.

im only here so that he keeps his job she reminded herself.

lando was distracted - he got podium, he was excited, his team were celebrating. yet he couldn’t help but let his thoughts linger to that feeling that shot through his veins when he’d kissed her. the same feeling he got every night, when she wrapped an arm tightly around his chest as they fell asleep.

she’s only here for research opportunities he told himself.

“im so proud of you,” y/n told him later that day as they left the track. wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him in to a tight hug, his arms falling naturally to hold her waist close to him. lando risked everything in that moment, pulling slightly back to look at her, before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“camera,” he told her, feeling her hesitation. her smile fell slightly before she leaned up to kiss him again. of course - the cameras, that’s why he kissed me she thought to herself, saddened slightly at the realisation.

there was no camera. they were totally alone.

✧ colours of the sky in your eyes

...fragments of the truth in your lies ✧

lando felt alone, his apartment felt so empty without her. he was happy she had the opportunity to stay in australia and do what she loves, but he couldn’t help but dwell on the flames igniting inside of him when he saw the videos of her and oscar together. it wasn’t jealousy, he told himself, he just missed her. after spending the last few months in close proximity, it made sense that he missed smelling her perfume around, or hearing the way her voice travelled through his brain.

y/n had a calming effect on him, and right now, lando was anything but calm.

which is why he found himself going back to his old ways, in a club, surrounded by women he wouldn’t remember the next day. he was too gone to remember that people with cameras tend to follow him around, capturing his every move in 4k - and he was far too gone to realise that publicly he was in a relationship, a relationship that should not include him leaving a club with a blonde.

and of course, y/n had seen the images blasted over twitter, headlines titled “cheating scandal?” consuming her entire feed. it was hard to remind herself that this thing between her and lando was not real, it was all pretend. and no matter how many times she told herself that fact, y/n couldn’t help but feel jealousy consume her entire existence.

the flat had never felt so awkward than the week before their flight to japan for the next race. she had returned a few days after the incident, lando greeting her at the door with a tight hug and a kiss to her forehead, but something was off.

“you have fun?” he asked her offhandedly as they moved to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water for himself.

“i did,” she said with a smile, though her tone held malice, “did you?”

lando’s hands stopped opening the cap of the bottle as he breathed in sharply.

“the fuck does that mean?” he replied, his tone harsh in defence.

“i was just asking if you had a good time, lando,” y/n answered, “she looked pretty, your type.”

“nothing happened, y/n,” lando told her, his voice sounding almost guilty.

“it’s ok if something did happen - we aren’t actually together,” she assured him, even though she could feel the jealousy bubbling up inside her again, “can you just be more cautious next time? im not sure i enjoy being told i deserved to be cheated on every time i open twitter.”

“im sorry, y/n, i am. i dont know what i was thinking,” he apologised, his eyes still softening with his guilt.

“clearly not a lot,” she tutted, before moving to take her bags to her room.

the rest of the week followed a similar vibe - the two of them barely spoke if they didn’t have to, making a few affectionate public appearances to show the world that their relationship was as strong as ever… oh the irony y/n thought every time she saw something dismissing earlier lando’s actions. however, by the time they flew out to japan, the friendship between the two seemed to have recovered - lando had almost sighed in relief when he saw her smile at him again.

“where you off to today?” lando asked her, pacing around the hotel room as he packed his bag for the day.

“the marina,” she replied, smiling as she pulled her coat on, “looking at the fish.”

“gross.”

“what time is qualis?” y/n asked him, ignoring his statement.

“uhh…3 i think - but you should try and get there by 2?” he told her, glancing down at his phone to see the current time. lando strode over to her, cupping her face lightly as he pressed a quick kiss to her head - this was becoming second nature to him, and she wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

“perfect!” she replied, trying to stop the nervous blush rising her face, ignoring the way her stomach flipped, “ill be there,” she added before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and leaving the room. the moment the door closed, lando’s hand raised to touch where she had kissed him, smiling fondly at the thought.

he was utterly and truly fucked. how had he let himself fall for her? how could he continue to pretend to love her, when he really did?

y/n spent the rest of the morning in a similar state of panic, mentally shutting down at the prospect of loving lando and knowing he’d never feel the same. she hadn’t even intended to leave him today, but found herself quickly googling anything for her to do the moment she woke up with his arm wrapped tightly around her stomach and his head resting on her back. y/n needed space, she knew she couldn’t keep up their little act when her heart was slowly shattering every time he kissed her for the cameras.

so caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t realise the time until it hit 2pm and she was stuck at the marina, desperately trying to find a taxi to get her to the track. and when she finally made it, y/n wish she hadn’t bothered.

lando was pacing angrily, talking under his breath as he checked his phone constantly - he only had 5 minutes before he needed to go down to the garage and get ready for qualifiers. the door slid open, and y/n walked through - ready to spurt out her apologies - but she stopped suddenly, sensing the anger looming in his room.

“where were you?” lando asked her, trying to keep himself calm, though the race nerves mixed with his temperament made that quite difficult.

“im sorry lan, i lost trac-”

“lost track of time? found something more interesting to do? save it, i don’t wanna hear your excuses,” he argued back, interrupting her with his ever loudening tone.

“you’d know all about ‘finding something more interesting’, wouldn’t you,” y/n replied, her own voice raising to meet his. if there’s one thing y/n will do, it’s stand up for herself, even when all she wanted to do was kiss him. dont kiss him, hit him she told herself.

“fuck you,” he spat, shoving past her to leave the room.

“at least im here!” she shouted back down the hallway, desperate for the last word

y/n stayed in the room for qualifiers, trying to stop the tears running down her face before lando returned. she hoped his anger was only heightened by his nerves, praying that after securing P3 he would return as his normal self, laughing and joking with her. in a strange way, she wanted cameras on them, she wanted him to be affectionate with her - she needed him to comfort her.

the woman walked nervously down to the garage, hoping to catch him quickly before he had to run off for media duties. maybe now he had secured a solid start position for tomorrows race he would be more willing to have a mature, sensible conversation with her.

or not.

lando spotted her immediately, pulling her arm quickly to lead her round to a secluded area outside the garage. he wasn’t angry at her, he was angry at himself for letting it get this far. he was so irritated, he couldn’t even spare a moment to see the fear in her eyes as he took in a deep breath.

he wasn’t angry at her, but he didn’t know how else to express his overwhelming emotions.

“what do you want? make it quick, ive got media to do,” he snapped, letting go of her arm as they stopped walking. she rubbed at it, her skin still burning from his tight grip.

“i just wanted to see you lan, congratulate you,” she replied softly, biting back tears once more.

“oh now you want to be here to support me?” he breathed out, crossing his arms over his chest.

“what does that mean?”

“i let you come with me to help with your career, and yet you can’t even turn up to support mine. i knew you were selfish but thi-”

“selfish?” she argued, trying to keep her voice low, “me? selfish? i haven’t got enough fingers to count the amount of times you’ve missed my important things because you were busy with your career. and have i complained once?”

“well no but-”

“but nothing, lando. i can’t even pretend to love this version of you,” she ranted, her anger being overcome with sadness, “you know what? fix your own reputation - or don’t. i don’t care what or who you do anymore,” she finished, turning on her heel and storming away from him.

he wanted to follow her, he wanted to hold her close as he apologised. lando knew he was being selfish, he knew it wasn’t fair to string her along under the pretence of saving his career. he knew he could no longer pretend, not with her and not with the public. lando needed her in every sense of the word. but duty calls, so he settles on dealing with this later, sitting her down and telling her the truth, even if it had the potential to destroy their friendship - he figured he couldn’t make it any worse.

but y/n isn’t at the track when he finishes up for the day, and she’s not at the hotel when he returns - and neither are her belongings. lando checked his phone repeatedly, messaging her desperately.

he fell to the bed, head in his hands as he tried to regulate his breathing.

she was gone, and it was all his fault.

✧ i know that you're perfect for me

…tell me that you're sorry

…won't you please just take my heart again ✧

it took a few weeks for lando to finally stop messaging her, though y/n noticed an increase in visits from max, their mutual friend, under the guise of “just checking in” on his childhood friend. y/ wasn’t stupid, she knew who was behind max’s sudden interest in her wellbeing. but max was stupid either, he knew why the two of them had taken this fall out so hard.

“you did what?” max shouted in shock.

“i asked her to pretend to be girlfriend so i could keep my job,” lando sighed, hiding his face in his hands.

“you’re stupid.”

“i know.”

“in what world was that ever going to end well?”

“the world where i didn’t realise i actually do fancy her?” lando replied quietly, questioning his own admission.

“im so stupid,” max replied.

“how are you the stupid one here?”

“stupid for believing the two of you had finally worked out what has been right in front of you since we were 13.”

lando was desperate. he needed to talk to her, he needed to tell her how he felt - but for now, he settled with knowing she was ok.

“she’s alive and healthy - and she had pizza for lunch,” max told him over the phone, growing tired of this weekly routine the two of them had started.

“but she’s doing ok, right?”

“she’s good, lan,” he reassured, neglecting to tell him the part where she cried on him about losing her best friend over a trivial, child-like crush.

“but…?” lando asked, sensing there was more.

“but - she still doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“i could’ve guessed that one, thanks mate.”

“hey dont get mean with me - im just doing what you asked.”

“i know, sorry.”

“don’t apologise to me, find a way to fix this you muppet.”

y/n was not ok, spending most of her nights alone, scrolling through social media seeing the rumours about her and lando’s supposed split - “she’s wasn’t at the race” “i saw her leaving suzuka crying” “he looks so sad in interviews”. why do they care so much? but they aren’t wrong, she thought.

she began looking for a job, but nothing seemed as exciting as the work she’d done with mclarens environmental programme - which seemed to no longer be an option. unbeknownst to her, mclaren also loved the work she had done with them - her presence was greatly missed in the garage by many, especially those on the receiving end of lando’s current outbursts.

y/n’s phone lit up the entire room, the notification cutting through the silence of her room, breaking her away from her own thoughts.

-

y/n was still convinced this was a trick, luring her to miami under the pretence of work so that oscar could push her head first into a trap. the thought stuck with her throughout her plane journey, as she checked in to her hotel, even up to the moment she knocked on oscar’s door to discuss the project. she was waiting for lando to appear, push her into a locked room and force her to talk to him.

“…’but if i talk to him, ill end up telling him why i ran, and how i feel about him, then he’ll reject me, laugh in my face and im back to feeling sorry for myself,” she told oscar, having finished giving him the run down for their project, and allowing the conversation to move to the elephant in the room - what had happened between her and lando.

“im sure that’s not true,” he replied, feeling sad for the girl in front of him, though he already knew most of the story from hearing lando’s self-destructive rants.

she opened her mouth to responded, but was stopped by a sharp knock at the door.

“oscar? are you ready to go?” a familiar voice called from the other side, sending y/n’s blood cold, her eyes widening in panic.

“what the fuck, oscar?” she whispered shouted, feeling betrayed.

“i didn’t know he was coming y/n, i swear, i’d never do that to you,” oscar reassured her truthfully, although slightly beaming as a plan formulated in his head, “stay there, ill tell him to meet me downstairs.”

oscar stood, moving to open the door slightly.

“hey mate - just got some things to sort out, ill meet you downstairs in 15?”

“sure,” lando nodded, turning to leave, but not before his eyes drifted into the room, spotting the same pair of flowery vans that had spent months sitting in his hallway. y/n’s vans.

lando walked down to the lobby, taking a seat as he waited for oscar, his mind consumed with the fact that y/n was here, in miami, in his hotel. why was she here? why hadn’t she told him? was she still avoiding him?

“he-”

“where is she?” lando interrupted the australian the moment he approached.

“’hi oscar, are you ready to go?’ would’ve been my response but ok,” oscar replied.

“where is she, oscar?” lando continued, determined.

“she doesn’t want to see you.”

“i know,” he replied bluntly, “why is she here?”

“y/n was invited to join mclaren as an advisor on a new climate video,” oscar gave in, replying as professionally as he could - he wasn’t here to discuss their ‘breakup’.

that’s a lie, he’s pretty sure zak asked him to do another environmental video purely to suggest that he contacted y/n to be an advisor. and he’s absolutely certain that zak, equally as fed up with lando’s attitude, was looking for a reason to bring the two back together.

“who invited her? where is she staying?” lando quizzed him as they walked towards the car, doubting he’d even get an answer.

“zak invited her, he appreciated the work she did for us in australia,” oscar replied, ignoring his second question. lando hummed in response, if oscar wouldn’t tell him, he would find out for himself.

it was only a press day, so lando split from his teammate and began his hunt for zak brown. it wasn’t hard, the man was wearing bright orange and had a laugh that could be heard for miles.

“hey zak,” he started.

“hey lando, what can i do for you?” zak asked, glancing at his at a text on his phone quickly before giving lando his full attention.

“how are you?” lando asked hastily, beginning his attempt to bombard his boss with questions till he slipped up.

“im good.”

“what are you doing today?”

“just going over some things with the team.”

“what do you think the weather will be like on sunday?”

“war-”

“where’s she staying?”

“the marriot i-” zak replied, pretending to stutter as he answered, feigning shock at accidentally revealing the hotel.

“thanks zak, love you,” lando called out as he jogged out. zak smirked to himself, replying to oscar’s message.

z → mission complete.

o → you made sure it looked like an accident, right?

z → jesus oscar i just told him the hotel name i didn’t kill him

of course lando couldn’t leave the track immediately, he had a job to do first. but the moment he became free for the evening, he was off, arriving at the hotel in record time. there were many cons to being a recognisable face, but a pro of being so famous was a hotel receptionist who barely batted an eyelid as lando demanded to know the room number of y/n l/n.

his knuckles rapped on the door quickly, his heartrate beating rapidly as he did. this could go so many ways, and most of them were not good. the door swung open, his eyes coming to look at the woman in front of him - she looked good, but she looked different, like something was missing.

“lando? what are yo- OSCAR!” she called out, turning to look back into the room, the door widening as she did revealing his teammate sat at the desk, “did you do this?”

“not me,” he replied, holding his hands up in defence. her head spun back around to look at lando, she was taking him in. he had a plaster on his nose, the curls were alive and well, and his everlasting tan ran the expanse of his skin. she didn’t want to admire him, but damn, miami was treating him well.

“go away i dont want to see you,” she announced suddenly, trying to shut the door but finding his foot blocking it.

“i know you don’t, but i need you to just listen to me, please. and then you can shut the door and never have to deal with me again,” he told her, pleading.

“oscar’s here.”

“actually, i should probably get going,” oscar announced moving to grab his stuff to leave. y/ns head shot back around, her eyes shooting daggers at him as if to say ‘dont you dare leave me alone with him right now’ to which he merely shrugged and walked out.

lando closed the door behind him, moving the two of them back into the room - y/n sat down awkwardly on the edge of the bed as he remained stood in front of her.

“what do you need to tell me?” she asked him impatiently.

“y/n, these last few weeks have been hell for me. i know i hurt you, i said some horrible stuff that you really didn’t deserve and i will do anything for you to forgive me and move past this,” he said, pausing before adding, “i don’t know about yo-”

“oh, so it wasn’t you sending max to “check in on me” every week?” she interrupted, her eyebrows quirking with her accusation.

“you worked that one out then?” lando replied, laughing slightly, relief washing over him that she didn’t seem angry at him.

“it was so obvious! since when has max ever felt the need to check im doing ok ever? let alone every week?”

“i sent him because i care about you y/n. you weren’t responding to my messages, dodging my calls,” he told her, watching her smile slightly, a blush rising her face.

“so why are you here now?”

“look, this whole ‘thing’,” he started, waving his arms to indicate he meant whatever the two of them were doing, “it started as something purely to benefit the both of our careers. but i think somewhere down the line, it turned into something more. something that should’ve happened years ago,” he told her, his heart ready to beat its way out of his chest and jump out the window.

the two sat in silence for a moment, y/n mulled over his words in her head. this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? she wanted him to love her the way she loved him. so, why did she feel so apprehensive about letting him back in?

“i know you felt it too, y/n,” lando said again, not letting her thoughts distract her too far.

“feel,” she said bluntly.

“huh?”

“you said felt. i still feel that way about you lan.”

“then why won’t you let me in?”

“you said some really nasty stuff to me, lan. really horrible stuff that had me reconsidering my entire life. you’re lucky i even let you stay. why couldn’t you just be honest with me - instead of pushing me away?”

“i didn’t know how to,” he admitted, stepping closer to her, “if i had a time machine, i would take back everything i said. id go back and slap some fucking sense into myself.”

lando now stood directly in front of her, his thighs brushing her knees lightly as his hand moved to her face, wiping away a tear she didn’t even know what trailing down her cheek. his fingers tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear before settling on cupping her jaw lightly.

“can you forgive me?” he asked her softly, thumb stroking at her cheek.

“it’s not all your fault, lan. i could’ve said something too,” she told him.

“please just say you forgive me so i can kiss you, you idiot,” he laughed out.

“forgiven,” y/n said quickly, her head tilting so that their lips met. it was familiar, the feeling his lips on hers, but this time there was a sense of urgency. a sense of love that was absent anytime they had kissed before. his tongue swiped at her bottom lip, desperate for more which she granted happily, as her hands moved to rest in his hair, tugging at the curls lightly.

“fuck, y/n. ‘missed you so much,” he moaned out, the grip on his hair sending his mind blank.

“missed you too,” she replied as he moved to kiss down her neck softly, “even if you were a bit of a dick.”

“let me make it up to you?” lando teased, nipping at the skin of her neck whilst his fingers toyed with the hem of her top.

“there’s a lot to make up for.”

“ive got time,” he replied, pulling the fabric away from her body fully. her hands reached out, grabbing at his mclaren polo to remove it as well, dropping it next to herself on the bed.

lando laid her back on the bed, hovering over her as he continued kissing down the flesh of her torso.

“y/n i forgot m-” oscar started, barging back into the room, “oh my god, ive been gone what…? 3 minutes? how have you already taken your clothes off?” he exclaimed with a laugh.

“fuck off!” y/n and lando called out in unison, lando reaching for his top and launching it in oscar’s direction.

“ok ok, im going,” he replied, raising his hands again in defence, “stay safe kids,” he added before leaving the room, his forgotten phone now in tow.

“kids?” lando muttered, “im older than him?”

[aweina]

୨୧. honest eyes — mortal kombat one. kameos : raiden. johnny cage + kenshi takahashi & liu kang

when you stare at their hands for too long.

raiden was confused at first. he was not dreaming, right? he knew his small crush on you could make him overthink certain interactions, but the more he quietly observed you, he realized that your mindless staring was in fact, reality. coming into terms with this realization was hard for raiden, dissecting every possible outcome as to why your unreadable gaze seemed so glued to him. ignoring this dilemma sounds more unnerving, offering him temporary peace, and so he did. but only then the limelight that you unintentionally showered over him the past few days left him flustered and somewhat clumsy. it only began to worsen when he caught your intense gaze on his quivering hands, the warm tea swishing around the small ceramic cup. silence fell between the two of you, with raiden watching your eyes drag over the fine details of his hands — rough from working in the fields yet gentle with anything he touched. “what’s so particular about my hands that you seem to like so much?” it took a bit of courage to ask, but he was pleased to see you gaze away nervously, sputter something incoherent, just like he would with you. maybe his crush wasn’t actually one-sided all along.

johnny never seemed to notice your blatant staring, or so you thought. under the foggy lenses and his humorous exterior, his was incredibly sharp when it came to observing his surroundings — particularly you drooling over the sight of his hands. after making such a huge discovery, he has been absolutely insufferable and loud. the flirty little comments you’ve received became much bolder, he was more expressive with his hands — pointing things directly by your face and “casually” articulating them around every time he talked. he would even exaggeratedly stretch out his limbs as his ring gleaming under a nonexistent light — the wolf whistle was the cherry on top. despite all his teasing gestures, you still gazed hungrily over the callouses and subtle veins that swelled over his skin. with his strong fingers dancing along your knee, you try to keep his movement still, tracing over his hands carefully once he complied. “take a picture, it’ll last longer.” he snickers at his own joke, but this was his idea after all. next time, he’ll make sure to get a few angles saved in his camera roll.

kenshi has always been particularly tense when it came to unwanted attention. that’s why he instantly felt your lingering gaze — like he had a sixth sense. but confusion dawned upon him. what were you staring at? he learned to be cautious about his appearance, hiding his troubling past under long sleeve shirts and keeping a calm demeanor to not scare off others. yet you constantly assured him that his former affiliation with the yakuza didn’t bother you. it’s when he’s eating idly in the dinning hall of the academy, kenshi felt your unwavering eyes on him again. this time he followed the tilt of your head, noticing a blush on your blank features, and finally stopping at his rough tattooed hands. he’s heard of this before, a hand fetish? kenshi smirks knowingly, placing his utensils on the table as he raises a hand over your hard gaze. “if you wanted to look, you should’ve just asked.” he teases with a smile, lowering his hand to let let your fingertips ghost over his inked skin — something that he would never let anyone else do.

liu kang did not need his divine intuition to notice your unwavering eyes — it was quite obvious and rather amusing. when he crafted this new timeline, he never suspected that you would ever see him in a certain light. although he usually wears hand wraps on a daily basis, there are rare occasions when he would rather continue his routine without a tight fit pressing fine lines onto his skin. with your curious presence sifting through the halls of the fire temple, liu kang feels it’s only natural to shred off the one thing that taunts your prying gaze. your subtle reactions to his rare exposure never failed to make him smile. now, you sit alongside the fire god in a daze — mesmerized by the veins and small cuts that decorated his hands. liu kang gently held your smaller hand, applying a soothing balm over your healing cut. his glowing eyes flicker to your lingering stare, openly gawking at his hands and periodically, dragging along his inked muscles. that’s when he suddenly broke out laughing, breaking you out of a trance. “your gaze never seems to falter, huh?” he keeps a firm grip on your hand when you try to flee away, basking in your flustered eyes.

© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.

[vbecker10]

The Night Nurse (Part 1)

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 (in progress)

Request:

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You are the newly appointed night nurse for SHIELD and you couldn't be less excited about it. You have been given the side task of finding out who is stealing supplies from the infirmary. Soon after you start, you learn Loki is the one who has been slipping in at night to patch up his wounds and you confront him about why he can't heal as quickly as Thor. He reveals a dangerous secret he is keeping from the team and you worry increasingly for his safety as the two of you become closer over the next few weeks.

Warning: You asked for angst so I shall give you angst lol but also... some mentions of blood, minor injuries needing stitches, Loki generally feeling alone and isolated, arguing between you and Loki, very brief mentions of Loki's torture, Loki being an ass in the beginning, swearing, a pretty major injury towards the end but no one dies... a romantic ending was requested so of course there will be fluff and cuteness and whatnot it just won't be in part 1 (sorry)

A/N: I really really hope you like this @glitterylokislut! It accidentally got super long and I just went with it so I hope that's okay. Thank you so so so much for sending this request! I love it 💚

You have been given your new assignment by Director Fury and Dr. Palmer and to say you are less than thrilled about it is as understatement. You are officially the first and only night nurse for SHIELD, stationed in the Avenger's Tower. Unfortunately for you, Fury and Dr. Palmer thought you were perfect for the job and it was made clear that there was no room for you to turn down the transfer.

You were doing inventory a few days ago and noticed several discrepancies which you immediately brought to your supervisors attention. The decision had been made to staff the infirmary at all hours and since you discovered the issue, you were tasked with finding out who was stealing the supplies.

So here you are for the sixth night in a row and nothing... not a single patient, thief or otherwise to keep you occupied. Not that you are honestly sure what Fury expected you to do if you caught someone stealing. You aren't an agent and whoever it is has to work for SHIELD since no one else could even access this floor. Very few agents lived full time at the Tower and the ones who are here at night are working. This really only left the members of the Avengers but you can't understand why any of them steal bandages and gauze, it just doesn't make sense.

What is more concerning for you than the specific items being stolen is that whoever it is has been able to avoid the security system. While the infirmary itself has no internal cameras, the cameras in the hall leading to the elevators are all in perfect working order. Fury had the tech support team check and recheck the security system but they couldn't find any glitches or issues. No one had been seen entering or exiting the infirmary on the nights when the inventory went missing.

Maybe the Tower has a ghost, you think to yourself as you finish the inventory checklist yet again. You double check your count and note that nothing is missing. Tossing the clipboard onto your desk, you pull your book out of the top drawer and settle in for what you assume will be another long, uneventful night.

About five minutes later, you hear something coming from the main section of the infirmary and get up from your seat. Holy crap! There's actually a thief, you think as you leave your office quickly.

You stop short when you see Loki rummaging through one of the metal cabinets, one that you know you had locked only minutes ago. "What are you doing?" you ask him. How the hell did he get in here? you wonder. You hadn't heard the door open.

The tall prince looks up a bit startled by your sudden appearance but he doesn't respond.

"I'm not allowed to let you take supplies," you tell him, trying to keep your voice from shaking. You hadn't been prepared to confront a god, you had hoped it was some young agent who didn't know the rules or an older one who was too cheap to buy band-aids.

He curses under his breath in what you assume is Asgardian and slams the cabinet closed. He glares at you and turns to leave.

"Wait, do you need help?" you ask noticing the items in his hand are for stitching a wound and there is a hastily wrapped bandage on his left forearm.

"No," he answers in a harsh tone.

You put your hand on your hips and say, "You can let me help you or you can leave. If you leave, you can't take the supplies. I'll have to report this as theft of SHIELD property to Director Fury."

"Fine," he grumbles and walks towards you slowly. You point him towards an exam table and roll over a stool then you take the items he gathered, setting them out on a tray next to you. He watches you intently while you work, you aren't sure if he is trying to make you uncomfortable but it is clear he doesn't trust you.

How the hell did he cut himself like this? you ask yourself as you open all the tools you will need. And what is he doing here anyways? He has accelerated healing, the same as his brother. He shouldn't be bleeding this-

"Thor is not my brother," he corrects you. "And the manner in which I was injured is none of your concern, mortal."

You sit back and look at him angrily, "Get out of my mind. You know you aren't allowed to use your telepathy on SHIELD employees." He shrugs at your outburst but sits quietly while you finish closing his wound.

"Done," you say when you add a bandage over the closure. You snap off your gloves and push your stool away from him. You can't imagine he will thank you for your assistance so you add, "You're welcome, now get out. I have to clean up."

You turn away to pick something up and suddenly feel as if you are alone. When you look back towards the exam table, he is gone. You shake your head in confusion and walk over to open the infirmary door, the hinges creak loudly as it swings open and closed.

A few days later you are completing the last of your paperwork just as someone knocks on your office door. You gasp in surprise and nearly drop your coffee, looking up to see Loki standing in your doorway. He is holding his right bicep and lowers his gaze to the ground in front of him to avoid eye contact with you. His demeanor is completely different then the last time he was here.

"Would you help me?" he asks almost as if he expects you to say no.

You sigh and nod, "Of course, it's literally my job... even if the person who needs my help is an ungrateful ass."

He flinches at your harsh tone and says, "I am sorry I was unkind to you last time I was here."

"You were a jerk," you tell him flatly, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back in your chair.

"I was," he says to your surprise. "I apologize for my behavior, it was uncalled for."

"Accepted," you say, not wanting to waste anymore time since you could now see blood begin to seep through his fingers.

He sits on the exam table you motion towards and begins to unbutton his dress shirt. You turn towards the cabinet to grab the things you need and when you look back you are struck by how annoyingly hot he is. You quickly remember that he can and will read your mind so you try to push the thoughts away but you are not fast enough. Loki looks down as he folds his shirt and places it next to him, the corner of his lip curling into a smile.

"Okay," you clear your throat. "Let's see what you did this time." He moves his hand and you see the long gash on his bicep. "Wow, you did a pretty good job on this."

"Yes, I thought the bleeding had stopped but it began again so I thought I should come here" he says.

"Good thing you did. It's going to need a lot of stiches, more than last time," you inform him. "Do you want anything for the pain?" you ask when to get up to grab a few more things from the cabinet.

"It doesn't hurt," he shakes his head.

"Really?" you ask, not sure if you believe him but you don't press the issue.

You sit close to him on your stool and begin to work on his arm quietly. Loki doesn't make a single sound or move an inch while you clean and stitch his wound. You reach for the tray to grab something and realize he is watching you again but this time he's studying you and not your work.

"So what happened?" you ask him. You are fairly certain he wasn't sent on a mission this week.

"Training with Thor," he says simply.

You nod, sensing that he won't give any more details even if you continue to ask him questions. You glance over at his right forearm and pause mid-stitch when you don't see the injury you treated last time.

"It healed," he answers before you can ask what happened.

"Stop reading my mind," you tell him and go back to what you were doing. He doesn't respond and you assume that means he doesn't intend to listen to you. You decide to search your mind for a song that can easily get stuck in a person's head, hoping that if he does go sifting through your thoughts he will at least be annoyed. It might be childish, but it's the best solution you can think of at the moment.

You look up at him when you are finished, sitting back on your stool you say, "I know the other day wasn't the first time you snuck in here." He tightens his jaw and gets up from the table, buttoning his shirt without saying a word.

"Are you the one who's been stealing supplies?" you ask him even though you know he is. He ignores your question but you don't think it is because he is being rude like last time. He almost seems distressed that you know his secret so you add, "I didn't tell anyone it was you."

"I know you didn't," he finally responds. "I assumed Fury would have spoken to me if you had." He is silent for a moment than he says, "Thank you," before turning to leave the exam room.

"Wait," you follow after him. "I can't keep hiding this from Dr. Palmer and Director Fury. They are going to want to know who was taking the supplies."

He turns to face you, "Why didn't you tell them it was me?" His curiosity seems genuine, as if he fully expected you to turn him in the first time you saw him here.

"I'm not sure," you shrug. "I guess I wanted to talk to you about why first you were doing it but then you pissed me off and I just wanted you out of here as soon as possible."

He nods, "Again, I apologize for how I spoke to you. I was not expecting anyone to be here but that is not an excuse."

You are stunned by the second apology and the abrupt change in his attitude since last time. Maybe I'll have a better chance of finding out why he is clearly not healing well now.

"I would rather not discuss that tonight," he says as he walks away from you and you know he read your mind again.

"Loki, I can't pretend I don't know it's you for much longer. Fury is going to want to know why the supplies are missing. It's the whole reason I'm here this late," you tell him.

He puts his hand on the door to leave and looks back at you, "I know you do not owe me this but please, do not tell anyone... at least not yet."

You sigh, "Fine, but this is the last time."

He nods and you watch in awe as he simply vanishes from sight. So that's how he gets passed all the cameras, he can just disappear?

It's been a week since you've seen Loki and after the fourth day you had decided he wasn't going to come back. You hope you will be able to finish out the next few weeks without any additional discrepancies in the inventory and things would go back to normal. Just as you are about to open your book, you hear him call your name and you roll your eyes. Of course he's back, nothing ever works out simply for me.

You walk out of your office to meet him, expecting to find the God of Being Annoying and Evasive needing a handful stitches like he has the last two times he visited but he appears fine. "Hi again," you greet him with the least excited tone you can manage.

He grimaces and takes a few steps towards you but falls, grabbing his side tightly as he collapses onto one knee. You move quickly to grab him but don't see anything wrong until he moves his hand and his illusion flickers. There's blood on his hand but it vanishes then appears again when his magic gives out. His shirt is covered in blood and you hold onto him, helping ease him to the floor.

"What the hell happened?" you ask trying not to panic. You remember your training and move his shirt to the side so you can see the injury clearer. He flinches when you press his hand on the open wound and tell him to keep it there. "Shit," you mumble a curse then get up to grab everything you need.

You kneel next to him and take care of his wound as quickly and cleanly as possible, stitching the long, deep cut closed. Thankfully it wasn't any deeper or you might have needed to call for help, the wound was too close to his lung to not be taken seriously. When you finish you help him sit up slowly and he uses his magic to clean the blood off his clothing.

"You need to stay here and rest," you urge but he shakes his head no.

"It will heal," he says and he tries to get up. You help him so he doesn't hurt himself further but you keep your hands on his arm. "Thank you," he tells you then takes a step away from you but you don't let go.

"Stop," you get his attention. "You can't leave, this wasn't just some little cut. You were stabbed really close to your lung. This isn't okay Loki, you're not fine."

He takes a deep breath as if to prove his lungs are clear and says, "I appreciate your concern, Y/N, I truly do but I need to deal with this on my own."

"No you don't," you argue. "Just tell me what's wrong, maybe I can help."

He shakes his head, "You are an excellent healer but this is beyond you."

"I don't get it, why are you getting so badly hurt. I thought you had accelerated healing abilities like you bro- like Thor," you correct yourself before he has the chance.

He gently rests his hand over the wound on his side and tries to reassure you. "I will heal, it just takes a bit longer than it used to. Thank you once again for your help Y/N," he says before he vanishes.

Three nights later, you are sitting at your desk looking down at your tablet while you drink your second cup of coffee. You've clicked on Loki's file but haven't opened it yet, your fingers drumming on the desk rhythmically as you think. You have treated him several times now so it isn't a violation of his privacy to view his chart but for some reason it feels like it is. You sigh and open his file, maybe whatever he is hiding from me is in here.

You intend to skim his chart then log his recent visits like you should have been doing but you pause completely confused. His file is almost blank, his name and general information has been filled out but there is not a single visit to the infirmary listed. How is that possible? He must have been able to heal at one point but he doesn't seem to be able to anymore.

You exit his file without adding anything, determined to talk to him the next time you see him. You only need to wait fifteen minutes before he knocks softly on your office door.

"Loki, are you okay?" you ask, your voice has more concern than you meant.

He nods and holds out his hand when you walk towards him, "It is only a small wound tonight."

You look closely at the back of his hand and agree, he will only need a butterfly bandage or two and some gauze. You hold his wrist gently and lead him into one of the exam rooms. Loki sits on the table and you roll your stool close to him with your tray of supplies next to you.

"What happened?" you ask, reaching for the tape and he hands it to you, "Thanks."

"A training accident," he says and you nod, unsurprised.

"I need to log this into your file," you say as you throw out the garbage. "The other injuries too," you add.

"I would rather you didn't," he says.

"I know but I need to, it's proper procedure. I could get in trouble if I don't," you explain. "I could lose my job."

He sighs and remains seated on the table. You sit on the stool again and move closer to him. "I'm sorry, I never meant to cause you trouble," he says.

"Well... maybe if you tell me what's going on, I can keep it out of the record," you suggest. He looks up at you as you can tell he is thinking about your suggestion. "I can't tell anyone what we talk about, if that's what you're worried about, doctor - patient privilege and all," you explain with a smile.

"You're a nurse," he says, but his tone isn't condescending like it is when some people call you a nurse, it is as if he is simply clarifying a fact.

"Yeah... it's the same concept," you sigh. "Loki, you can trust me. I don't want to see you keep getting hurt like this," you tell him honestly, touching his hand lightly and he looks into your eyes.

You aren't sure if he is reading your mind or not but finally he says, "You must promise me, no one will know what I am going to tell you."

"I swear," you agree.

Loki shifts uncomfortably on the lightly padded table and looks down at your hand over his. He sighs deeply then says, "I cannot heal the same way Thor does, I have never been able to."

"What!?" you ask unable to hide your shock. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it like that but... I don't understand."

He says, "Accelerated healing is an Asgardian trait and I am not a full Asgardian, I am half frost giant. When I was a child, I thought I healed slowly simply because I was smaller and weaker than Thor but now my lack of abilities makes sense."

"But how did you hide it all this time?" you ask. "Someone must have noticed you were always getting hurt."

"My mother helped me," he explains. "She taught me to use my magic to create illusions to hide my injuries and dull my pain. When I was alone, I would use my spells and potions to heal myself."

"And no one knows, not even your brother?" you ask in disbelief.

"Not even Thor," he shakes his head.

"But wait... so this was obviously working fine for the last thousand or so years, why isn't it working now?" you ask confused.

"There is something wrong with my magic," he tells you and your heart sinks. "It has been fading since I was taken by the Mind Stone."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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[natalievoncatte]

This was going to happen; it was inevitable the moment that Lena chose this course and began preparing to enact the plan. The timing was the mystery, the where and when. Thinking back on it later, she should have known better. Supergirl liked dramatic entrances, and she liked having Lena to herself when she talked. Surprisingly for someone who flew around in primary colors and smiled cheerfully for the cameras, she knew how to be discreet.

There was a double thud as the stacked heels of Supergirl’s boots touched down on the balcony behind her. Lena didn’t look up from her work. Not for the first time, she wondered if Supergirl used her super-senses to read other people. Lena’s heart sped up when she heard the landing and her breath caught, but she remained calm and smooth when she spoke.

“You may as well come in. We’re on the ninety-sixth floor. I don’t bother locking it.”

The glass door slid quietly on oiled plastic runners, and a gust of chilly night air rolled over Lena’s shoulders, causing her ponytail to slide from its place and dangle down her back. She’d changed earlier out of her power suit and exchanged her tight high ponytail for a loose, comfortable one. She was planning an an all-nighter.

“You should lock the door. There are dangerous people out there. Among other things.”

“If any of them have it in for me, they’re not going to be slowed down much by the balcony door, Supergirl.”

There was a soft sigh behind her. “We need to talk.”

Lena smirked. “Why is that? Are you worried my new car saving machine will pull all the cats out of the trees and out you out of work? I’m still working out all the kinks.”

“Miss Luthor…”

“Speaking of kinks, maybe you could help me out. I’ve got a terrible crick in my neck and could use a super-neck rub.”

“Miss Luthor,”

“Or if you’re not busy, you could run and grab us some takeout. I’m thinking Thai, how about you?”

“Lena!”

Sighing, she turned around, tearing her attention from her work. Supergirl had her arms folded, displaying those impressive muscles of hers, and was looking at Lena with an expression of stern concern, something soft and a little worried in her eyes.

“What’s the occasion, then? Let me guess, someone wants to assassinate me.”

Supergirl sighed and let her arms fall. “You need to take this seriously. Right now, I’m the only friend you’ve got.”

“And why is that?”

Supergirl edged closer, her cape swirling slightly behind her. She put a hand on Lena’s desk and leaned over her.

“Because you’re been buying up every ounce of Kryptonite you can find.”

Her pulse began to race and she fought the urge to sink back from the piercing blue eyes that stared into hers.

“That’s not possible. Your cousin destroyed it all.”

“Not all of it,” said Supergirl. “The DEO keeps some, and there’s some floating around on the black market, usually mistaken for something else.”

“What makes you think that I didn’t just stumble across some? I inherited an extensive collection of art and sculpture, Supergirl, and I’m always adding to it. Ask Kara Danvers. I’m going to display the bulk of the family collection in a new wing at the city museum.”

“Because the DEO identified and tracked dozens of pieces, including the ones you bought,” Supergirl said, quietly. “It’s a way for us to identify threats and see who’s trafficking in it. You moved them through shell companies and had them smuggled through customs. You’re hiding something.”

Lena pushed to her feet, indignant, leaning into the do confrontation. She stabbed a manicured nail into the center of Supergirl’s chest, right into her big S.

“So now you come storming into my office making accusations?”

Supergirl planted her fists on her hips and stood over Lena, glaring down at her.

“I’m on your side. I’m the only one keeping the DEO from arresting you. I want to believe that there’s a benign reason for this, Lena. But you have to give me one. People think you’re a threat.”

Lena stared back at her, studying her features, her expression.

“It won’t do any good to tell you. Your superiors won’t believe me. They’ve been trying to entrap me ever since I took over the company.”

“They’re not my superiors,” Kara snapped. “I work with them. They have resources and support I need.”

Lena crossed her arms and cocked her head. “They also have Kryptonite. You just admitted that.”

“Lena,” Supergirl snapped.

Quickly, she grabbed a random page from her notes and scribbled, are they listening?

Supergirl looked at it briefly, then at Lena, weighing her options.

Then she nodded.

Lena scrawled on the sheet.

I’m making a cure.

Supergirl started, flinching as she read the note. She blinked almost comically.

Can we talk without anyone listening in? Lena wrote.

Supergirl nodded, taking the paper. She slipped the pen out of Lena’s grasp and scrawled, give me five minutes.

“Fine,” said Lena. “Tell your people they can call a judge. I’m sure they’ll have all the proper papers and warrants and court orders and it will all be nice and legal.”

“I don’t want it to be this way,” said Supergirl. “I want to work together with you. I believe in you, Lena.”

“You have a hell of a way of showing it.”

Supergirl huffed, turned, and headed for the balcony, taking off with such force that Lena stumbled back a few steps.

Lena waited, finally moving towards the door to close it, when a folded paper airplane sailed through the opening and came to rest on her desk. She closed the balcony door and grabbed the paper, quickly unfolding it.

They can track my suit. Meet me at the Big Belly on 49th. Leave your phone. Walk. Don’t worry about your safety, I’ll be watching. I’ll be in civilian clothes.

Lena crumpled the note in her pocket. The place Suoergirl meant was a half an hour walk, and Lena was more than a little nervous about walking it at night. So, she grabbed her .357 from her desk drawer and stuffed it in the kangaroo pocket of her hoodie, and took her private elevator to the ground floor.

When she walked up on the Big Belly, it was of course closed, dark inside with the chairs up on the tables. Lena tensed when she saw a figure approaching in the dark, much like she was, in joggers and a hoodie.

She relaxed when she saw Kara Danvers hiding in that hood. When they crossed paths, Lena stopped and began walking beside her.

“Supergirl said she would meet me herself,” said Lena. “I’m kind of surprised she sent you, Kara.”

“Keep your voice down,” Kara said, softly. “Follow me.”

Kara led her on a trek through downtown, making Lena rather nervous. This part of the city emptied out after hours and it was close to three in the morning, and they were walking alone on empty streets, finally turning off down an alley between two seemingly random buildings.

There, Kara stopped, and sighed.

“Can you really do it? Can you cure Kryptonite poisoning?”

“Yes,” Lena said, excited. “I think I can. I’m very close. I needed the samples I procured so that I could perfect the process.”

Kara’s shoulders hitched a little. She faced away from Lena, and took a step towards the brick wall in front of her.

“They have a device that your brother created. It can disperse Kryptonite through the entire atmosphere in a few minutes.”

“I’m familiar with it.”

“It’s how they control me. I don’t know where they keep it, only that they have it. If I step out of line, they’ll poison the atmosphere and kill me.”

“Kill you? Kara what are you talking about? You’re not…”

“I told you I’d meet you in civilian clothes. When I wrote the note in your office.”

Lena stumbled back a step, trying to process what she just heard. Kara was talking as if…

She turned around, facing Lena, and stood to her full height, removing her glasses without sweeping back her hood, and met Lena’s gaze.

“But… you’re…”

“Hush,” Kara said, softly. “I’ll explain everything. Right now we need to move and move fast, before they figure out what I’m up to. How fast can you finish your cure?”

“I need a few days and some things from my lab.”

Kara brought her wrist up and spoke into a hidden radio. “Alex, get ready to move. We’ll need to get to Lena’s lab before the DEO does.”

Lena blinked a few times. What the hell was going on?

“I need to get you someplace safe, then I’ll get you up to speed,” said Kara. “Will you come with me?”

Lena’s heart pounded in her chest. “Where?”

“Safety. I promise, I’ll keep you safe. You’re too dangerous to the DEO, Lena. They’re going to move on you, and I had to beg to give you a chance. Tomorrow someone is going to come make you an offer you can’t refuse, and I’m not going to let that happen.”

Lena nodded.

“Alright then. I’m with you. Let’s go.”

Kara nodded.

“Good. Lena Luthor, welcome to the Justice League.”

I had a weird urge to play with the idea of a world where the DEO are a black ops unit that controls Supergirl with the threat of Kryptonite and Lena helps her take them down and save the world. Of course Kara has to be all dramatic about naming the resistance movement.

[libraryraccoon]

TWST with a Manipulator!Reader Headcanon

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Type : Headcanon/Ideas

Characters : Riddle, Idia, Vil

Others infos : Not manipulator like that, but yk those who have masks that hide their emotions, those who analyze people and their behavior/attitude changes depending on who they talk to, in a way the person they talk to will like them, letting no one see their true colors. And they are traumatized too bc what is someone without trauma ??? And the Reader is really good at that. Bad english (it's not my first language), probably ooc.

I don't think Riddle would realize/understand it. To him, you were just a good student who followed the rules. And I don't think he'll realize you're playing a role, not if anyone else tells him, and if he does it probably would have been Trey or Carter, if they realize it. After that, he will observed you more and will try to talk with you about that. He will probably be a little hurt that you somehow manipulated him, not showing the real you. After that, you have two choices, lie to him and say you were being real with him, or tell the truth and try to act like the real you. If you lie, I don't think he will see it, trusting you and not thinking that you lied to him. If you tell the truth, he will be a little hurt by this new, but he will try to know you, the real you. Even if the real you isn't perfect, he will love it and be happy that you trust him enough to show him the real you.

Idia will know it. You can't tell me that man doesn't stalk you. Even if you're a friend, when he will get bored or having nothing to do or just for knowing what his friend/partner do, he will look in the school cameras. He will see that you act differently with almost everyone, adapting to the person you are speaking with. He would surely be intrigued and/or confused about this. Idia will probably wonder who the real you is, and if you were lying to him all along. He'll question you about it at some point, if you lie about being the real you with him, there's a 50/50 chance he'll believe you, his sixth sense screaming that you're lying. If you tell the truth, he won't talk to you for days, can't believe he fell into this trap- the trust will be broken, and it would be worse if you were together romantically because he will think you also lie about loving him, but it could be fixed with time.

Vil will know something is wrong. Being an actor, I feel like he would know when someone is playing a role or at least have suspicions. His sixth sense would scream that something was wrong, so he would observe and send Rook to gather information. Above all, he would be curious, curious to know the real you, and to know why you play a role, constantly changing depending on the person you are with. If you are together, he will be hurt that you played him, realizing that he really knows nothing about you. He might question your feelings towards him. If you lie, like Idia, something inside him will tell him that you lie, and Vil will maybe talk about it again. If you say the truth, Vil will try to know you really, especially in a relationship, it would be like starting from scratch.

[bueckers]

𝓡EBOUND ━━━ paige bueckers ( 1 )

synopsis: when college basketball stars paige’s and leia’s relationship crashes and burns, it was obvious it definitely wasn’t supposed to turn out that way. and despite the hatred they show, somebody’s gotta crack.

pairing: paige bueckers x female oc

warnings: not much just light angst and lore filling!

notes: newwww fic series! so excited for this one so brace yourselves for all the sexual chemistry in the world.. paige wants that cookie real bad like ???

flashback, 2022, november.

paige’s point of view.

Leia and I sat side by side at the press conference table, microphones in front of us and the UConn backdrop behind. The team’s third win of the season was secured, and I couldn’t be happier to have done it with her. There’s a different adrenaline about college ball, and to experience it playing with Leia Barlowe was another feeling entirely.

A reporter stood up, clearing his throat, drawing my attention. “Leia, can you tell us about your dynamic on the court tonight? You and Paige seemed to have an almost telepathic connection.”

Leia glanced at me, her eyes sparkling with that familiar glint—the one that made her look like she was up to something. God, I loved that look. “Oh, you know, Paige and I just have that fifth sense. She can read me like a book.”

“Fifth sense?” I mused, stifling back a laugh. I glanced down at her lips for a moment, the same ones that were dangerously close to her microphone. I’m not dumb and I know this will get read into lately.. but I really couldn’t help it.

“Yeah, that ‘Peia’ effect or whatever they call it.” She still doesn’t realize that she said fifth instead of sixth.

The entire table laughed, not expecting her answer, I assume. She truly is a people’s person, but I like to think everyone is just a Leia person. How could you ever hate her? Leia had been media trained since she was in middle school filming commercials, so seeing her loosen up was a different thing. Not saying I hated it, though. The edits are pretty funny sometimes.

I leaned forward, letting my elbow graze hers, a deliberate but subtle touch. I knew what I was doing. “Yeah, Leia and I have played together for years and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. We spend so much time together, you know? We practically finish each other’s—”

“—sentences,” Leia finished, laughing softly and rolling her eyes. “Or plays, in this case.”

The topic shifted to Dorka and Evina soon after, who had outdone themselves tonight. As the reporters’ focus moved away from us, I glanced over at Leia, watching as her ponytail swung behind her and she rested her head in her palm. Just looking ridiculously fine on a game night. I had a knowing smirk on my face, one that always catches.

Her eyes darted to me, eyebrows furrowing. “What?”

I shook my head, clicking my teeth and shaking my head. “Nothin’.”

present day, 2023, november.

paige’s point of view.

By senior year of playing college ball, you’d think the nervousness of a press conference would decrease by now… wrong.

Well, maybe I’m nervous for a different reason.

I sat at the table, my shoulders slumped and the bottom half of my ponytail tucked into my black hoodie. I chewed on my lip while trying to keep my composure under the blinding lights and the unrelenting barrage of camera flashes. Focus on the game. I adjusted the microphone in front of me, forcing a smile as the first reporter stood up, ready to throw the first pitch.

“Bueckers, amazing game tonight! You led your team to victory. How do you feel about your performance?” Damn, she even looked like the one to prode. The ones that are good at their job.

I leaned forward, flashing a confident grin nonetheless. “Thanks. It felt great. I’m so excited to be back on the court, you know? And the team just really clicks. Everyone brought their A-game tonight, and I don’t think i’ll ever get tired of playing with these guys.”

The reporter nodded, jotting down notes. I saw the next question forming in her eyes, and my stomach tightened. Why was I getting this worked up over a question? The answer was Leia Barlowe. I’m trying to erase her… make her not exist. But it’s incredibly hard.

She looked up. Focus on the game. “Paige, this was your first game against former friend and teammate Leia Barlowe since she transferred. Can you tell us about that experience and how it is not playing with her for the first time?”

She stared at me for what felt like ages, awaiting a response. I suppose everyone knew something went down with her, but it didn’t mean it was their business. It was like supporters could feel energy shifts through a screen, and if you feel that, imagine how the people in the room felt.

My smile faltered slightly, and I breathed in, attempting to rush my words out. I tried to keep my expression and answer neutral. It gave everyone enough room to interpret it any way they wanted. “Playing against Leia was intense. She’s a fantastic player, and it’s always a challenge to match up against her.”

The reporter scribbled down my answer, not satisfied, of course. Another one jumped in, relentless.

“Paige, you and Leia had a strong dynamic on and off the court. Do you think her transfer has affected the team’s chemistry?”

Seriously? I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay composed. “The team’s chemistry is great. We’ve all worked hard to build strong relationships and support each other. Leia’s a great player, and we miss her, but we’re focused on the future.”

Of course it affected us. Of course it affected me.

Another reporter jumped in, sensing the tension. “Paige, there have been rumors about the reasons behind Leia’s transfer. Can you shed some light on that?”

I wanted to scream. To tell them to shut the hell up about Leia. I didn’t wanna talk about her. But I couldn’t. I licked my lips, scrunching my face up before whining out into an answer. “I’m not going to speculate on rumors. Leia made the best decision for her, and I respect that. We’re all here to play basketball and do our best for our teams.. that’s it.”

We weren’t like this last year. Who would’ve thought around this time i’d be saying I respect her. Not that she’s my ‘best friend’ and I’ll always be supportive, but that I respect her.

The truth was, the rumors barely scratched the surface. The endless arguments, the mistrust, the media blowing everything out of proportion—it was like living in a pressure cooker. We both cracked under the strain, and it tore us apart.

I’d taught myself to be thankful. That it was bound to happen eventually when we chose to go down the further road. Leia Barlowe and I are cordial, and no, I wouldn’t particularly wanna be stuck in a room with her anymore.

The questions kept coming, and I kept dodging anything that had a slight indication of her, giving just enough to satisfy them without saying too much. Finally, the press conference wrapped up, and I stood without a ‘goodbye’ or ‘have a nice night.’ Just a stone cold smile and the screeching of the chair pushing back against the floor. Should’ve focused on the game.

[satorusugurugurl]

Til’ the Day that I Die

Summary: You’re a popstar in need of a bodyguard when you find yourself with a stalker. That’s how you meet Fushiguro Toji, you’re insanely hot bodyguard. Who knows how to push your buttons, and get you feeling flustered. Just how far is he willing to go to protect you? And how far would you go to protect him?

Pairing: Fushiguro Toji x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: (PLEASE READ) mentions of anxiety, serious stalking, panic attacks, language, mentions of knives, some upsetting mentions of unauthorized photographs

Word Count: 4,457

A/N: Here’s the long awaited part two!! Oof this wrote itself!! 😈

Part One Part Three Part Four

“So yeah, that whole conversation you listen to with me telling my manager to tag the hospital in my video because that hospital inspired this song! It was a public service announcement, a reminder to help those who can’t help themselves!” You were fuming with anger at this bodyguard making some cold assumptions about you. One thing you wanted to do was use your stance in the public eye for good. God, you couldn’t stand assholes like him! Dicks who presumed they know everything and anything about you! “And another thing—!”

The next words didn’t have a chance to leave your mouth as the doors to the elevator opened to your apartment. The automatic lights you were so accustomed to being on were now off, which sent shivers down your spine, your sixth sense alerting you that something was wrong. Toji, the one facing forward, could see into your apartment, and he moved it before you even had a chance to look inside. When you asked him what was wrong, he remained silent, only shaking his head as the elevator doors shot and began ascending down.

That had been thirty minutes ago, and the once silent lobby was now bustling with police cars and passersby. They all stopped to take in the scene that was unfolding. Their peering eyes and camera flashes didn’t bother you in the slightest; that was something you were used to. It was not knowing what had happened in your apartment that set your anxiety off.

Toji's sighed and kept his eyes focused solely on you as a sleek black car pulled up to the police line. He recognized your managers hurrying out of the car and rushing towards you. Geto was the first to reach you, grabbing your shoulders, his eyes scanning you for injuries. Gojo was only a few feet behind his husband, sitting on the curb next to you, his arm draping over your shoulders as you visibly relaxed at their presence. Toji had unfortunately been in this line of work for a fairly long time and had seen his fair amount of lowlife managers, but with your manager's empathetic actions, your bodyguard knew you had lucked out with a great team.

So maybe he shouldn’t have judged you so quickly.

“What happened? Are you okay?!”

“We would’ve been here sooner, but traffic was a bitch.”

You took a deep breath, reaching up to touch Suguru's hand, which rested on one of your shoulders. “I’m okay; I don’t know if I could say the same about my apartment, though.” your friends shared a look that clearly communicated words without speaking.

“But you’re not physically hurt?” Satoru asked in a smooth, almost relaxed tone.

“No, I'm okay.”

“Oh, thank fuck, we thought it was worse.”

Something inside Toi’s chest snapped as he whirled around. “Worse?” he questioned, a black brow twitching. “This is one of the worst-case scenarios!” he stomped his suit, straining against his broad muscles as he pointed back toward the apartment building. “This bastard got into her apartment building undetected and was in her personal space for who knows how long.” You watched as Satoru removed his arm from around you, holding his hands up in front of him.

“I-I just thought it was good because she wasn’t hurt!”

“You’re lucky she wasn’t hurt! If she had been in the apartment when this asshole was there, you might not be looking at a fucked up breaking and something. How did you put it? Worse!”

Toji’s actions from the instant he saw your apartment to when you both were calling the police had gone from cocky, lazy full of attitude bodyguard to full-on protective mode. His eyes were constantly roaming around. If anyone approached you, he stood in front of you, making sure he listened to any questions they asked, or if they tried to hand you something, he looked at it first before deeming it safe for you to look at. This man standing before you had made a complete change, and you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t feel safe. This was the first time since the appearance of your stalker that you felt like you might be okay.

“Fucked up break-in?” Your dark-haired manager questioned his dark eyes, glancing in your direction, drawing you out of the thoughts that you had been distracting yourself with. “Just how bad was it?”

You swallowed at your slightly dry throat. “I-I don’t know.” you could feel the weight of their gaze crushing you.

“You don't know?”

“I wouldn’t allow her to see it,” Toji added in for you, sensing the growing stress in your chest. “ I refuse to let her see what’s inside.”

You fought against the rise of nausea that washed over you as Satoru and Suguru gave you concerned deluxe. You weren’t sure what thoughts were whirling around inside their hands, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to know. Even though you were certain those thoughts revolved around what could have happened inside your apartment.

You didn’t want to know what he had seen that had him in such an alert state. The fact that he had covered your eyes, refusing to allow you to see what he had, didn’t leave you curious or eager to discover what happened, but you knew God. You knew it was going to be something you would have to see. Because you were out of your anxiety medication, and there were a few things in your apartment you wanted to retrieve, and there were certain things you didn’t want anyone else looking for.

“I-I’m going to see; I need to see it.” Your voice was barely audible, but whether it was because of his height and skills as a bodyguard or the fact that he was an earshot, you weren’t sure, but around, staring down at you as if you had just verbally insulted him, his mother, and his ancestors. “Please don’t look at me like that.”

“There’s no way you just said that,” Toji swore before crouching in front of you as Suguru stood up, giving you space. “Please tell me my ears are still ringing from your concert, and I didn’t hear you say you need to see the state of your apartment. There is no way you just told me that; you can’t be that stupid.”

“Okay, for starters, I’m not stupid.” you snapped, eyes narrowing at the larger man before you. “I have to grab a few things that are in there.”

“I’ll grab them for you.” Toji barked back, glaring daggers into your eyes.

“I don't want you digging through my stuff.”

Through his head back with a laugh, his eyebrows furrowing together before he leaned closer towards you, closing the distance. “Sweetheart, I hate to break this, but somebody already has gone through all of your stuff.” his words struck you like hail in a raging storm with the terrifying reminder that someone had been in your home going through your things. But you didn’t appreciate the attitude he had behind his tone.

“Fuck you.” the words that left your mouth were like venom, but they seemed not to affect him. “I need to get some stuff. I don’t care what the state of my apartments is in.”

“Oh, trust me, you won’t like it. So no, you’re not going up there.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No—”

“She needs to grab more of her medication.” Suguru finally snapped in, putting a stop to the bickering. “That’s why she needs to go up there.” the look you gave your friend didn’t phase him. “My girls give me nastier than that, so keep it up. It doesn’t bother me. I want to get you out of here as soon as possible, but bickering isn’t moving along.”

So you took medication for the anxiety you Toji could see etched into your features earlier. His navy blue eyes glance down at your hands, watching your index and middle fingers twitch. You were fighting off one, and if it was this bad, you were most definitely going to need your medication. That still didn’t mean Toji was so keen on taking you upstairs.

“I can grab it for you. He said in a much softer tone that he would often use with Megumi. “Can you tell me where they are?”

“It’s upstairs in my closet.” Before Toji could even question why you would keep it there, you sighed. “Inside my safe—” You ignored the look he gave you, and you stood up instead. “I have people coming in all the time, and I don’t need anyone telling the paparazzi I have terrible anxiety. People do about anything and everything to have five minutes of fame.”

Toji shook his head, standing with you. “And I’m going to assume you’re not gonna tell me the code?” You just gave him the sweetest smile you could muster, one that was often reserved for the paparazzi.

“Seeing that you need my thumb to open it, I would rather keep it attached to my hand. I’m going to have to go with you.”

Toji did not like this. He didn’t want you to see the horrors that awaited you on the third floor of the building. He also knew that he was limited to options at this point. You were stubborn, stubborn as he was, and there was no point in fighting with you—not when you needed to go upstairs to open your safe. With a reluctant sigh, Toji motioned back towards the building.

“Let's fucking go; Geto’s right. We need to think about getting you out of here as soon as possible.”

You tried to keep a calm face, especially since you were already on the verge of a panic attack, and the flashing from the cameras didn’t help. The last thing you needed for this story to go public. You could see the headlines already! ‘New Rising Popstar Has a Stalker?!’ Or ‘New Popular Popstar Home Vandaliszed!’ Plus, if you were to slip up and let your mask slip, revealing the anxiety-ridden girl underneath, that would give anyone who knew you an opportunity to run to the press with information regarding your performance anxiety. Anyone would rush at the chance to spill the beans about how you put on a persona, and you weren’t the person that everyone believed you to be.

That sounded about as entertaining as this whole fiasco has been. So it was better for you to keep a straight face and head to your apartment. Suguru and Toji, the sooner you leave, the better.

Your managers had insisted on coming with you both up to your floor; that way, they could help you pack some bags and collect the things you may miss in the state of panic. You would most likely find yourself when you look inside the apartment. You would have to make a mental note to get an extra prescription to keep with your managers or keep your child home or somewhere else that wasn’t in a safe in your apartment that was supposed to be guarded around the clock but had somehow broken into. Unfortunately, you would have to consider doing this; it was like adding another cog to the clock, which was your busy life.

As you rode the elevator up to your apartment, thoughts of what to do and how to do it, plotting, planning, and preparing, were at the forefront of your mind. Thinking of stupid, mundane things to add to your already busy life had been the perfect distraction you needed. Otherwise, your mind would’ve been reeling with different scenarios or visions of how you pictured your apartment.

Was it trashed, spray painted on the walls, or did they go through your underwear drawer and throw them all over the place after doing terrible things with them? Were your beta fish still alive? Had your stalker destroyed all the books you had collected over the years? There were countless possibilities of what had occurred within those walls, and each time you came up with the scenario, you thought back to Toji’s reaction. You weren’t sure if the things you were thinking about were enough to start a man of his physique and demeanor.

The only thing you were sure of was that whatever awaited you was enough to make you never want to return.

The dinging from the elevator sounded as you reached your floor. You took a deep breath, lifting your head, only to come face-to-face with your bodyguard's chest. Your eyes roamed up the tight button shirt to his face, where he looked down at you with a weary look.

“It’s not a pretty sight. I’ve never seen anything like this before. So if it gets too much for you to handle or if you can’t handle it, you tell me, I’ll cover your eyes, and we’ll head straight to your closet, okay?”

“It’s that bad?” You asked, not knowing if you wanted the answer.

“Yes.”

You had made it a point that you needed to come up here and see what this had done to your home. If you were to turn around and decide you didn’t need the meds that would keep you calm and your mind clear, you most likely would’ve already turned around and begged to be brought back to the lobby. But as hard as you wished and dreamed that would be the case, you were close to losing it. You could feel the anxiety creeping up, wrapping its tendril fingers into your chest, constricting your airway. If you didn’t take your meds fast, you were going to break down, and that wasn’t going to speed up the process of getting you away from the apartment any faster.

‘They’re the best.’

Nanako had assured you just hours before. You needed to have faith in the bodyguard your managers, some of your closest friends, had picked out for you. Inhaling deeply through your nose, you shut your eyes tight before nodding your head once; you needed to go through with this, and if it became too much to handle or if you found yourselves spiraling down the drain oven anxiety attack, you could tell Toji. Assuring you he would be there for you gave you the strength to look into his eyes.

“I understand; if it becomes too much for me to handle, I’ll tell you, I promise.”

There was a glint in your eyes, one full of determination that Toji wasn’t expecting to see. But behind that determination, he could still see your finger shaking despite you doing your absolute best to try and conceal it. While he didn’t know much about you, you were pretty easy to read, and he couldn’t have been more about you with his first assumption. And he was glad about that. Because you would have to be strong to live with the sight you were about to see.

With a deep breath, Toji stepped to the side, allowing you to see your apartment for the first time in days. But it hardly looked like your apartment. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth as you stepped back further into the elevator.

How was this the same place you called home?

Thousands of pictures hung from the fifteen-foot ceiling on fluorescent red strings. From the back of the elevator, you could see that the pictures hanging from the strings were all photos of you. Pictures of you at your shows, sipping coffee at a café, shopping with your face mask on, covering your mouth and nose. There were photos of you and your family eating at a restaurant together—pictures of you at the gym working out, grocery shopping, stepping into your shower, naked.

But the pictures weren’t even the worst part. Your couch had been overturned and looked as though someone had a hunting knife to the cushions, carving in the initial of your first name, followed by a large X and an M. Red hearts had been scribbled all over your walls and floor, coffee table, couch, recliner. You could only hope that it was paint and not blood. But the piece of resistance was the mannequin facing the elevator entrance, dressed in one of your lacey undergarment sets—a wig sat on top of the mannequin head that resembled your hair type and color to the tea. But the mannequin didn’t have a face. Instead, a camera with a crevice where the face would usually be. And around its neck hung a piece of paper, with ‘I See You!” Written in the same red substance that covered your walls.

“Holy fuck.” Satoru whispered, overlooking the state of your once beautiful apartment. “I-I don’t even know what to say.”

“Is that still recording?” Suguru asked, glaring at the dummy. “Why haven’t the polic—”

“We’re working on dusting for fingerprints at the current moment.” A calm, soothing voice announced from further inside. Somehow, you had harnessed the strength to step inside the apartment, not wanting to be held down by the chains of disbelief and shock. “Please make sure not to touch anything if you can.”

You saw a man in a finely tailored suit approaching your group when you looked up. He wore white gloves on his hands and held a notebook. The detective was handsome, with well-trimmed blonde hair and a tie fastened perfectly. The man standing before you took care of himself, and from his body language, you could tell that he took his job very seriously.

“Hey, Nanami.” Toji greeted.

“Zen’in, good to see—”

“Nah, I go by Fushiguro. Took my wife's last name.”

“Ah, apologies, I hadn't realized.”

A certain amusement seemed to swell in your chest as you glanced between the two men. You didn't realize your bodyguard was married. He didn't have a wedding band on, and from his harsh tongue, you weren't sure if he had much experience talking to someone, but it seemed like you were wrong.

While you were trying to imagine what Toji’s wife looked like, honey-brown eyes clashed with your far-off gaze, snapping you back to reality. “And what can I help you with? We’re still investigating and looking through the security footage. So, as of right now, I sadly have no information for you.” As quickly as those words left Nanami, Toji jumped in.

“We just wanted to grab some things from her safe and some clothes. Then we’ll be out of your hair.”

Nanami pulled his phone out to make sure his fellow officers and detectives were done with your room. Waiting for a response felt like sinking into water, and the photos that hung around you were like the current pulling you further under the surface. Seeing yourself in those pictures doing mundane tasks felt so dirty and wrong. You felt violated in ways that your heart had your heart squeezing.

“Fuckin’, is that our office building at the entrance to our house?” Satoru‘s disbelief pulled you back to the surface.

“Yeah, it is,” Suguru confirmed, looking at the photo his husband was motioning to.

Thoughts of their girls flashed through your mind, and it wasn’t just them. Your concern for all your friends and family twisted your stomach into knots of dread. Your stalker had been everywhere you usually went, from the photos hanging around you. Your schedule, habits, and favorite places to go had been documented and hung from your ceiling. In a way, it conveys what the mannequin just outside the elevator said. ‘I See You.’

This person has been watching you for God knows how long, and since they know pretty much everything you do to everyone you talk to, he leaves you feeling dirty and clean. You want to do nothing more than jump into the shower and scrub your skin raw to rid yourself of the film you felt wrapping around your body. You want to clean yourself of the fear, pain, and harsh reality that you had inadvertently put the people you loved in danger.

If your stalker went to such extreme lengths when it came to vandalizing your apartment, just how far would they go if your loved ones were to try to prevent him from drawing closer to you? Would they take further actions to harm you and everyone you loved? Dealing with a stalker was something you hadn’t anticipated happening—something you didn’t want to happen. Yet here you were, stuck with the unknown reality of what would fall upon you and the people you cared for.

“Hey.” the warmth of a hand gently grabbed your wrist and made a soft gesture. “Did you hear that?”

No, you haven’t heard anything but your thoughts. They had been buzzing so loudly, like an agitated hive of hornets. “Uhm, no, I’m sorry I didn’t.” Instead of annoyance or irritation, Toji gave you a gentle smile.

“Nanami said we can grab a few of your things.” Knowing that you would be able to get a hold of your medication relieved the tension in your spine. That brief relief allowed you to hurry up the stairs, fighting against the harsh, crushing reality you had found yourself in.

The second story of your apartment was in the same status as the first floor. Red hearts covered the walls and floor. Books from your office have been thrown around, but thankfully, they were still intact, and more photos hung from the ceiling. Your bedroom was a total mess. Clothes have been thrown around. The bed had been messed up. It seems the stalker had taken the same hunting next to your mattress. So you’ll have to buy a new one and sheets, fearing what might have happened to your once clean bed. Seeing the state your room was left in, your stomach was doing flips.

Unlike the main living area and office, your bedroom and bathroom are more intimate. Knowing someone was inside made your skin crawl with fear. It was wrong on so many levels, leaving you feeling claustrophobic. But you didn’t have time to process the loaded motions fully.

You rushed to the closet, opened the safe, and collected your medication while Suguru and Satoru packed a bag for you with some seemingly untouched clothes. Toji kept his guard up, not faulty, even though detectives and officers surrounded you. Seeing him so alert still left you feeling safe, even if this was one of the worst nights of your entire life.

But thankfully, the four of you were fast, and before you knew it, you were heading back down to the main lobby. The prospect of escaping the nightmare had you relax as you followed your managers to their car. You were so happy you were finally getting out of there. The crowd of spectators had grown, and it would only be a matter of time before someone took a photo of you by accident.

“Alright, let's get you back to the house.” Suguru opened the door to the backseat for you, and you were about to crawl in when Toji reached out, preventing you from moving. “Fushiguro, we need to get going—”

“She can't go there.”

“Uhm, yes, she can,” Satoru added, walking to the driver's side. “And if we don't get her out of her, there's a risk she could get recognized, and this isn't the publicity she needs.”

Toji seemed to ignore the words leaving your PR manager's mouth. “She was photographed at your office and home, right?” Silence grows between the four of you; the only sound is the growing crowd. “If she's not here, he can check for her at the gym or her parents’ house.” Toji shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Any place that was photographed is compromised. She's not safe at any of those places.” The truth of his words crushed you, leaving you feeling weak in the legs as you tried to think of anywhere you could stay.

“So what? We book her a hotel?”

“No, it's too risky, not secure enough.”

“This is ridiculous. I have a security system. She’ll be fine at our house.”

“As her bodyguard, I highly disagree.”

“As her friend, I assure you she’ll be safe with us.” Invisible streaks of lightning flashed between Satoru and Toji, the tension and testosterone growing between them.

You tightened your grip on your bag, gnawing at your bottom lip. “He’s right. I can't stay with you guys.” Suguru frowned, shaking his head as he gently grabbed your free hand. His lips parted to speak, but you quickly shook your head. “I can't put you and the girls at risk.” Satoru looked as though he was seconds away from throwing you into the car himself as you took a step back. “I-I can't put any of you at risk. You saw my couch and my bed; this person is dangerous.” The silence was nearly palpable, meaning they knew you were right.

“Okay—? So what the fuck are you going to do? It's not like you have a lot of choices! You can't stay here or in a hotel.”

“She’ll stay with me,” Toji announced, taking your bag from you.

You blinked once, your jaw dropping open before you shut it. “Huh?” You had misheard him; there was no way he said that.

“I said you can stay with me.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

Til’ the Day Tag List: (AGE MUST BE IN BIO MDNI)

@justagirl-with-aphone @flowerpot113 @elitesanjisimp @fandomtrash5092

[qatarsprint2023]

Kiss it better— OP81

In which Oscar just needs some gentle affection from his girlfriend after a frustrating race. — Oscar Piastri x f!reader, fluff, comfort, established relationship, no use of y/n a/n: first time ever posting something on tumblr ahhh!! likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! word count: 1.3k

Oscar Piastri was never the type of man to show his feelings openly by becoming loud or maybe even feeling a few tears prick in his eyes. No, he just... got quiet, hoping people wouldn't notice he was disappointed and maybe even a bit sad. Just like today. Well, this entire weekend really, if you were being honest.

It had started out okay at best. Qualifying on Friday had been brought to an early close by the sudden and heavy rain which left your boyfriend to start from P10 in the race on Sunday. Sure, it was alright, but not as good as Oscar had hoped. Saturday wasn't much better either, with the Australian also finishing in 10th place, meaning no points for him in the Sprint race.

Then came Sunday. And that was... well, pretty much a disaster, if you had any say in this.

The Red Bull up front made a solid getaway right after the lights went out and held his lead, while Lando impressively shot up into P2 from P6 in his McLaren. There was a big collision behind, though, between Magnussen and Albon.

You weren't quite sure what had happened, being too shocked at the errupting chaos out on track. Somehow Hülkenberg had collided with Albon, which had basically catapulted the Williams into the other Haas car. Unfortunately Oscar had also been caught up in the incident, suffering a broken rear wing after being clipped by Magnussen.

Red flags were shown and you calmed a bit when you realised that Oscar's race wasn't over just yet. The McLaren mechanics did a great job fixing his car, so he could start from the pits and still participate in the race. Eventually he finished last, in 14th, after everyone behind him had DNF'd and he was almost two laps behind everyone else.

And that was when Oscar got quiet and masked his overwhelming sense of disappointment and frustration with a nearly indifferent mask.

In front of the cameras he was simply a bit upset he hadn't finished higher after an accident that hadn't even been his fault, but on the inside of his brain he was oh so frustrated. Why did he have to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? It had felt terribly embarrassing to be so slow and finish last after a couple of good races, but he didn't tell anyone about that. Not even you, even as you two went back to your hotel room later that day.

However you always knew when something was up with your man. Almost as if you had a sixth sense for lack of happiness or something like that. His smile doesn't quite reach his eyes when he's upset, even when it would convince everybody else, his shoulders are just the tiniest bit slumped forward and he gets quiet. More quiet than usual.

As you entered your hotel room and the doors closed behind you with a slight click, the silence was hanging heavily in the air. You knew. You could almost physically sense his frustration, his disappointment, his anger at himself. He sat on the bed and didn't even look up at you, his gaze simply fixated straight ahead.

You slowly hung up your purse before taking off your shoes, just staying quiet and giving him some time to think and sort his thoughts. But after a few minutes you slowly moved to sit down next to him, your hand finding its way into his. The touch was soft. Gentle. It reassured him. He knew these hands would never let him down.

He hesitantly lifted his eyes, meeting your kind and gentle gaze for a second before they wandered back to the floor. He sighed and almost seemed to deflate, the disappointment and anger leaving his body as they were being replaced with something that was difficult to describe.

Silence filled the room as the two of you sat there on the soft mattress of the hotel bed, no words being exchanged for what felt like an eternity.

"Want me to kiss it better?" your soft voice that was as soothing and smooth as honey to his ears broke the silence.

Oscar's gaze was directed back towards you, his honey brown eyes filled with something you couldn't quite begin to describe, begging for you to somehow make everything disappear, to erase this entire day from the history books, as if that were even possible.

"Yeah..." he mumbled back in a whisper.

You reached over to cup his cheek with your right hand, making him lean against it as his eyes fluttered shut. You moved your head a bit closer to him and your lips hovered above his for just a moment as the tips of your noses brushed against each other gently. Finally you pulled him in and pressed a long, yet gentle kiss to his pillowy lips.

That soft kiss quickly turned into an attack of many, many small pecks all over his beautiful face in an attempt to make the Aussie break a smile. He squirmed a bit under the sudden wave of affection and tried to lean back to evade you, but his expression told a different story. Your lips against his felt comforting, safe, and most of all, reassuring, and he couldn't help but lean into the soft touch of your fingers against his cheek.

Your small and gentle kisses on his cheeks and eyelids and even his nose made him chuckle a bit and that was all the encouragement you needed to keep going. He tried to fight back with some pecks on your cheeks, nose and forehead, as if trying to say "I'm not a baby, stop that", but his soft laughter told a different story.

"S'many... you're smothering me..." he mumbled, still trying to avoid your kisses but failing miserably.

"'m not," you protested lightly as you kept brushing your lips against his skin, doing everything in your might to make him smile that gorgeous smile of his again.

"Yes. Yes, you are," he replied, his soft lips curling into a smile too, although he still tried to evade your kisses. Your little game made him feel good, if only just helping him momentarily forget about the recent bad race and the overall feeling of disappointment and embarrassment that had been weighing on his mind. You were always like this with him, the perfect girl to make all the troubles disappear and keep his mind calm, relaxed, and at ease, knowing he was in safe and loving hands.

After a few more moments you leaned in to press another kiss to Oscar's lips but missed them by a bit, so the act of affection landed on the corner of his mouth. Oscar let out a low groan as he shook his head and cupped your chin to turn your head, mumbling a soft "Hate it when you don't kiss me right..." against your lips.

That was true. He never liked corner of the mouth kisses. If it were his cheek he’d be fine with it, he gives those to you all the time. But the corner of his mouth?? It’s so close to an actual kiss that it's basically just you being a tease and he won't rest until he pulls you in for a proper kiss.

You giggle against his lips softly and pull back after that kiss. "Feel any better now?"

"Yeah, a bit," he mumbled as you pulled back, his hand that was still caressing your cheek dropping to your arm and you could feel him slowly nodding his head.

A deep sigh left Oscar's lips, a little bit of tension leaving his body now that you had kissed him more properly. His head tilted to the side and he turned his torso towards you, looking towards you and your eyes. A small smile formed on his lips, taking in your presence as he leaned in closer once again.

"Just one more..."

[kislnd]

Please do some george dating headcannons babe 😘

dating george clarke~

tysm for the request anon!! i had a lot of fun making this, i hope you enjoy xx

-> his love language is definitely either physical touch or quality time. i feel like he would always want to be with you and would always much rather stay inside cuddled up with you over going out.

-> that probably also comes with a slight possessiveness, because he prefers to have you all to himself it would be hard for him to not feel jealous sometimes (but he would try not to show it because he would know it wasn't your fault).

-> such a gentleman - always opens every door for you, sometimes literally jogging ahead if he has too. would get so offended if you opened your own door without waiting for him.

-> absolutely does not let you do anything when you feel ill, he would insist on completing every task singlehandedly and if you try to do even the tiniest thing he would nag you to stop and would do it himself to save you any discomfort (& so you recover more quickly).

-> similarly, he knows exactly when something is wrong, like he has a sixth sense for you. always very attentive and trying to get to the bottom of the issue so it can be fixed. a very firm believer in 'a problem shared is a problem halved'.

-> i definitely think be would be the type of guy to plan dates for you so no matter how busy you are in your work or personal lives, you always have time set aside for each other.

-> loves to play with your fingers/hands, even absentmindedly. you would find him lacing his fingers into yours frequently, during conversations with others, when you're watching something, he would always want an excuse to touch you - but without inconveniencing you too much.

-> he remembers every little thing about you. sometimes it would even shock you, it could be something you had mentioned once in passing that you don't even remember, but he would know and if he could ever get anything you mentioned, he would give it to you. he might even have a note in his phone containing lists of things you like, maybe even your exact order at your favourite takeaway.

-> his camera roll is full of you - all kinds of pictures too - pictures together, candid ones of you, ones that you would really want him to delete but he doesn't because he loves them anyway.

-> he wouldn't let you be insecure for a single second, he would constantly compliment you and the moment you mention you don't feel pretty or anything like that he would immediately reassure you over and over.

-> he would text you as soon as anything reminds him of you (that's a lot of things) to let you know that he was thinking of you.

-> playful bullying - i feel like this is just in his nature and part of his humour. you could both have digs at each other without hurting each other's feelings, he would absolutely know where the line was and never would never cross it.

-> somehow manages to bring you up in every conversation with his friends to the point they tease him for being a simp. it wouldn't bother him though because he knows they're right and doesn't want to shut up about you.

-> despite teasing him, his friends and family really like you and think you are the perfect fit for george - simultaneously the female version of him but also very different to him.

-> would probably go feral like a teenage boy the second you wear anything slightly revealing, he wouldn't be able to get enough of you (this is a whole other fic i fear).

[everythingne]

marketing ploy — LN4 / ch.2

Saudi and Aussie. How bad can it go? Well, bad enough for Max and Charles to start asking questions. And maybe for Lando’s behavior to be a little off.

piastri!oc x lando norris / fake dating, brothers best friend

warnings/notes: no big warnings other than some language, probably inaccurate f1 info (spare me here), written while sleep deprived

prev | next

-

18 MARCH 2023 - JEDDAH, SAUDI ARABIA ↴

The Saudi Arabian heat burns across my shoulders as I duck into McLarens paddock behind Oscar. The tanktop I'm wearing doing nothing to help regulate the heat under my uniform shirt that I've unbuttoned and have tucked at my elbows. Oscar takes a long swig of his now empty water bottle before tossing it away and giving Lando a hug over the shoulder.

"Ready to die in this heat?" He asks, making Lando snort and nearly spit out his water. I giggle as Lando coughs after swallowing and find myself stepping up to stand right next to Oscar, peering up at Lando through my eyelashes as a few cameras click in our direction. It’s certainly odd for me to be here, and not already tucked away in Red Bull’s paddock. Hopefully other people notice that.

"I'm trying not to, man." Lando shakes the sweat of his water bottle in Oscar's direction, making him shriek and wipe the icy water off his face. I can hear the more of the media teams and reporters in the paddocks approaching, almost like a weird sixth sense.

"Morning, Mini Piastri." Lando leans down and gives me a proper hug, one I'm not expecting, but nonetheless I kindly return it. Reminding myself of the contract I'd signed nearly a month ago.

God, it had been a month already?

"Morning, Norris." I step back, adjusting my hair with a tiny giddy smile I let myself easily fake. He looks at me like I've hung the moon and stars for him, and I'm shocked at how easily he can fall into faking utter and complete love. He's a natural.

Someone calls Lando over from the other side of the paddock and as he excuses himself, he places a hand on my lower back as he moves behind me, and it lingers. His fingers glide along the fabric of my shirt, nails scratching at the skin underneath enough to make me look over my shoulder at him as he looks at me one last time before fully stepping away to whichever engineer had called his attention.

"When do you have to be with Red Bull?" Oscar asks, drawing my attention back to him as I try to swallow the blush on my face, "to see your second brother."

"You're so dramatic about Max." I laugh, punching his arm, "and not for another like... ten or so minutes, Kaycee, who works under me. She’s running all the analytic stuff this morning. She's gonna move up to be a co-head analyst."

"Oh! She’s the one with the red hair right? She's so sweet." Oscar takes a water from a worker who hands us both plastic bottles, and Lando ends up snaking back over and taking me by the wrist as Oscar is called over in his place. As Oscar turns away, Lando pulls me back to a far corner and lets me rest against it as he hovers in front of me. Shielding me from view.

"So, how exactly are we handling media?" He says, "like paparazzi?"

"I guess we should just act the same?" I hum, looking over at a few media personnel who hover around the car, the team, and Oscar. The paddocks are slowly buzzing to life as everyone's arriving for the day.

"Then, you have to act like you like me a little bit, Ollie." Lando leans in a bit, breath fanning across my cheeks and I tilt my head up to challenge him. But before I can say anything in retaliation my phone rings with a call from Christian.

"Gotta go, Nori." I smirk, poking his chest as I lean up into his personal space, lips inches apart. He looks down at my lips for half a second, before I step back and call over my shoulder as I leave,

"Tell Oscar I said good luck!"

--

Luckily no one had passed out at training.

I'm standing at the edge of the paddock, laughing as I flick water at a very heat-exhausted Max Verstappen. He'd done just as well as I had expected him to, everything with the car working just as we had expected, but once again he skews my data with faster laps than I've seen in his car ever.

This rivalry thing was going to cost someone a car at some point.

"Hey, Livie!" A voice shouts, and I turn to see Oscar. Considering he's the only one allowed to call me that, I can't even feign surprise at his sudden appearance outside the Red Bull paddock. Still in race gear. Fuckin’ Aussie.

"Ossie!" I grin back, and Max crosses his arms and wipes sweat from his hairline with a towel as Oscar approaches.

"Hey, Max." He says, wiping sweat from his face with the sleeve of his undershirt. Whistling to get my brothers attention, I toss him a plain white towel, a spare I had tucked in my pocket. I swear Oscar almost melts with appreciation when he sees it and then prompty wipes his entire face down.

"Good to see you, Oscar." Max nods, leaning on the shaded wall adjacent to me. He's been out of his gear for a while, considering he has almost thrown up from the heat twice today. We had pretty much shoved it off of him as soon as he was done with training.

"You weren't answering your phone, and I needed to give you your stuff, so I came over to tell you I've gotta stay late, they're making sure somethings not overheating or something." He tosses me a hotel key and my purse from his passenger seat, I can tell his vagueness is due to whatever issue there is probably being not fully explained. Or because Max is here, because he's usually tell me everything.

"I'll catch a ride back, no worries." I pat his shoulder and he nods, lifting his phone to his face and groaning. I can see Andrea's contact on his screen and I laugh softly at his clearly exhausted expression.

"Gotta go, again, see you for dinner?" He starts backing up and I nod.

"Seven, sharp!" I shout and he nods before turning and just taking off in a run before I see him vanish into the McLaren paddock, which is only separated from Red Bull by Williams, so it's not terribly far. Max and I stand in quiet for a few moments before I hear some keys jingle and look over to see Charles tossing his keys to Max. The two share a quick greeting as I readjust and tip the last drops of my water bottle into my mouth.

"Need a ride back?" Max asks as I lower the bottle, but a whistle takes my attention sideways where I see Lando approaching.

"Nope. See you guys tomorrow!" I cheekily grin, slipping off the wall to approach Lando who twirls his car keys absentmindedly. He smiles at my approach, adjusting his bag as he stops so I can meet him midway.

"Nice to see you, Ollie..You need a ride home, right?" He grins, placing a hand on my lower back once more and I lean up to tuck a stray hair back against the others.

"You too." I say, peeking behind me to see Max and Charles watching the two of us interact and a small idea pops in my head, "yeah, actually."

"Perfect." Lando's eyes lift to look at Max and Charles, and seconds later he's escorting me by the small of my back out of the paddocks. "Starting strong, aren't we?"

I can't help but laugh, hiding my mouth with my hand as we slip into the car park as we peacefully walk along various other racers whose eyes linger on Lando's hand a bit too long.

"Really strong, it seems." I say as he opens the passenger door to his car and I step in as if it's normal for this to happen, wasting no time settling in as he shuts the door and god damn why is that actually so hot?

As Lando settles next to me in the car, shutting his door, he smiles over at me.

"At least they can't say we aren't keeping up our end of the deal."

—

19 MARCH 2023 — TWITTER ↴

URF1NEWS: LANDO NORRIS was spotted yesterday leaving the track, and coming back today with OLIVIA PIASTRI at the Saudi Arabia GP. With tensions at an all time high between Red Bull and McLaren, you can’t tell me you arent wondering what this might mean.

567k LIKES, 350k RETWEETS.

no.rizz: adam sandler what are u doing here??

mclarensnumba1: they have to be dating be so serious.

ferawrri: brothers best friend ‼️‼️

monacosbtch: i think they did it but i just can’t prove it.

norris4: OLIVIA AND LANDO??? BE SO SERIOUS ILL SOB. FREE FLOW TEARS.

--

30 MARCH 2023 — CALL BETWEEN ADA AND OLIVIA ↴

“Welcome home, Miss Piastri.”

“Morning, Ada.”

“You and Lando need to start pushing this rhetoric of your dating a bit harder. Astrid is already speaking with him about it but we need a strong push here in Australia. It’s you and Oscar’s home race after all.”

“Were the paparazzi photos of me getting into his car not enough?”

“Oh they were, but we really wanna cement it.”

“So… what are you asking of me?”

“Today, Lando has been instructed to drive you to the track with a gift.”

“A gift? Like what?”

“You’ll see. But, we expect you to post that gift on your public instagram story. Preferably with some sort of McLaren indication—the orange hearts work well.”

“Christ. Okay, what else?”

“Oh. it’s time for the soft launch and the pictures in his team shirt. I’ll find you before the race tonight with more details.”

“Great…”

—

Lando’s luckily not in a papaya orange car this time. A black SUV fits him well, and will hopefully blend us in a bit more.

“Morning, Ollie.” he says as I climb in, Oscar somewhere behind me in the hotel still. I yawn in response, waving as I settle in the seat before I notice what he’s holding.

“Oh, Ada was serious.” I laugh at the little bouquet of flowers he holds towards me. They’re daises, my favorite flower, and then some yellow chrysanthemums and little pink roses sit behind them.

“She just said to get the daises.” Lando hands the flowers to me, and I happily take them, and then I notice one final thing resting in the cup holder.

“The girl at the coffee place I stopped at was a McLaren fan, so I asked her to write a ‘cute note for my girlfriend’ on the lid.” his voice lifts in octave as he recounts his words and then he lifts the little coffee in his cup holder so I can see it. That gesture alone makes me swoon just a little bit harder.

“Damn. My real boyfriend after this is gonna have some competition.” I giggle, taking the coffee from his hands and repositioning so I can snap a photo for instagram. He laughs in response to what I say, but I hear the leather of his steering wheel squeak as he grips it a bit tighter.

“Yeah. Boyfriend.” I swear I hear him mutter, but when I ask what he said, he swears he said nothing—so the conversation gets dropped there as he pulls out away from the hotel.

—

OLIVIAPIASTRI POSTED A NEW STORY! ↴

MCLARENRACING MADE A NEW POST! ↴

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and 965k others…

mclarenracing: @ oliviapiastri visiting the paddock is always a good luck charm. Wishing the best home race for our Piastri siblings!

ryoooraces: NUMBER WHAT NOW??

oliviapiastri: always lovely to see you guys 🧡

no.rizz: IS THAT LANDOS FUCKING JACKET.

logansargeant: gears are turning.

— williamsbaby: LOGAN BE ONE OF US!!!

—

“Charles?” I pause in the doorway to my office, a Red Bull in my hands, bag and purse over one shoulder. The thick jacket I wear making my arms—which hold the flowers, an empty coffee cup, and files I couldn’t fit in my purse tightly to my chest. Both him and Max are pressed along the wall where the door opens and in my rush, I nearly whacked Charles with the door as I kicked it open.

“I have a question.” Max states as soon as I’ve plopped my mess of stuff on my desk, and I hold up a finger as I chug the rest of my lemon Red Bull, make a face, and toss the can along with a coffee cup in the tiny trash can under the desk.

“Well, I do too.” I turn to both men before kneeling down to grab an empty vase from my cabinet along with a stray pair of scissors, “so, fire away.”

“Why are you spending so much time with McLaren?” Max asks as I start moving my files and such to my chair so I can cut and put the flowers in their new temporary home before they live on my mothers kitchen window until their inevitable death, “it’s usually impossible for you to leave the paddock here unless Oscar himself comes and drags you away.”

“And the Lando jacket?” Charles tacks on at the end, smacking Max’s shoulder as if they’d agreed to mention it. The two are as close and you can be at this point, so I’m not surprised at their brotherly antics. I can tell that the two of them have taken it upon themselves to figure out what exactly is going on, just as brothers—or in my case sisters, do.

Oh, a perfect opportunity just appeared in front of me. A way to really get the ball rolling on this whole ‘dating’ thing.

“It’s nothing serious.” I wave a hand, sorting the flowers into the vase with one hand. I shrug off the new Lando Norris varsity jacket merch once it gets too hot, plopping it on the back of my chair.

“Really?” Charles says with a dangerous curiosity in his tone that only makes me smile wider as I keep cutting stems, and popping flowers into the vase. I glance up once I’m done with the daises, eyes challenging Max’s and Charles’ sharp, curious gazes for half a second before I stand fully and let a fake, giddy, nervous smile cross my face.

“Maybe…” I ponder saying it, feeling heat rise to my face naturally as I imagine the way Lando grins at me whenever he sees me walking up, or the way his warm hand feels on my back as he guides me, “a certain McLaren driver has caught my eye.”

The two stare at me for a second, before there’s overlapping shouts with accents so thick in the heat of the moment I can barely understand a word being said.

“Good lord!” I shout through them and dissolve into laughter, Max smacks a hand on my desk—pointing at me.

“So you are dating him?” he asks and I immediately shake my head.

“No, no. Again, it’s nothing serious.” I reply as calmly as I can, feeling a bit bad for lying but knowing in the end no one would be hurt. It wasn’t even like I actually loved Lando, I just liked the way he pretended to be my boyfriend. It was… really cute.

“But he buys you flowers and coffee, you wear his merch, visit him instead of Oscar, he drives you everywhere—is that not dating?” Charles says, crossing his arms over his Ferrari team shirt, “and why are you both being so sneaky about it?”

“He’s a friend for now, guys, and we aren’t really being sneaky!” I sigh as I finish up with the small amount of roses and chrysanthemums, beginning to organize the flowers to hide the shakiness of my hands.

I hate lying so much. If it’s this bad with Max and Charles, the conversation I’m going to have with Oscar will be unbearable.

“Well.” Max pauses, and Charles shrugs, “I guess it’s fine.”

“Wait—are you giving me your approval of Lando? Like a brother?”

“We both are.” Charles makes his way to the doorway, grabbing the handle to the door and stepping out, “he’s a good kid!”

I stare after Charles for a few seconds before my gaze lifts to Max, who grins at me.

“And now half of the Red Bull garage owes us money. Thanks.” He punches my shoulder and as he’s leaving the words register and I can only shout at his retreating form—

“—You guys bet on this?!”

[shawnxstyles]

Omg! Panty stealer pt2 is sooooo gooood! Cocky and dom Peter absolutely blew my mind! Your writing is awesome!

Pleeeeease tell me that it will be third part to fulfill the panty trilogy! As humble suggestion maybe reader find out that Pete is SpiderMan and he will finally get head from her while he is in his spidey costume? Or maybe more than just blowjob?Hehehe Am I very bad and naughty that I'm typing this to you? 🥵🤤

Anyways love ya darling! You're smashing it!

in the suit

words: 3k

warnings: smut; (m- receiving [oral], dirty talk), language, and fluff of course. barely edited.

note: panty!peter blurb #1 coming up :D also, this is the way i believe y/n would have found out about spider-man, but i have another request for the same thing so i’ll probably do an alternative version!

—

you couldn’t stop thinking about it. how?

how does peter manage to get into your room every night? okay, not every night, but most nights.

most nights, peter magically and mysteriously sneaks his way up into your forbidden bedroom with ease. sometimes, you even wait and watch outside your window to try to get a peak at what he’s doing. but you never see him.

he’s just so slick. how does he do it?

you and peter have been together for over a month now, if you’re counting the day he broke in. the feeling isn’t necessarily new in your heart. you feel like you’ve known him your whole life. like he’s always just… been there.

through this month of stability yet craziness, you haven’t gone back to the frat house since the halloween party. you thought that after you guys got together you would stay there more often, but peter doesn’t want you to be ‘attacked’ by the guys. meaning, he doesn’t want them to ask a million questions when you guys are supposed to be private. you thought his excuse was dumb, but he was also just being a bit protective.

in reality, peter just didn’t know how to get you into the frat house without anyone seeing you. you both had agreed that your relationship was going to be kept private, very private. people could spread rumors and assume you two were together, but you weren’t going to show each other off. you guys liked it this way, it made your relationship more special because it was just for you two.

peter had a sixth sense, sticky fingers, and webs. it was pretty easy for him to crawl up into your room especially because you didn’t have security cameras (maybe you guys should get some at some point though…). you would constantly ask him how he does it since you live on the second floor and it was high up. but peter responds by not responding and instead laughs and kisses you. god, he was too good at distracting you.

but tonight, you were determined to find out.

peter had already texted you earlier and said he wouldn’t be able to stop by tonight because of overbearing homework. you completely understood, and sent him a good luck and goodnight to me then message. but truly, you were sneaking out and heading towards the frat.

you put on your sneakers and a hoodie, pulling the strings tightly around your head. the early december weather was no joke in massachusetts, and your thermal leggings were barely helping to keep you warm. as quietly as possible, you leave through the back door, making sure not to alert anyone or anything. not like you have a system to alert though.

you cut through some of the hedges until you’re in the front yard and the frat is staring at you from across the street. taking a deep, chilly breath, you cross the road with your frozen fingers tucked in your pocket.

all the lights in the top rooms were off, except one. you’re not totally sure which one is peter’s, but what other frat guy would stay up until 11 p.m. working on homework?

maybe ned, but he sleeps downstairs.

you walk until you’re under the window, the yellowish light taunting you. there was no latter, vine, rope, or magic hair to get you into the bedroom. the houses were built very similarly, and you know he doesn’t bring a latter with him.

so how does he do it?

you take a glance at your surroundings. the biggest difference of your houses was that the guys’ didn’t have large garden hedges. they just had a shit ton of messy bushes that they should probably trim once in a while.

having no ideas, you try to jump towards the window. great, that’s totally going to help you. maybe you’ll get some super jump that can spring you up and inside.

you feel stupid. yeah, peter may be the smartest person on campus and going to mit on a full academic scholarship, but how does he sneak into your room? with geometry? you didn’t think so.

wait.

what if… he’s hiding something from you?

that would explain why he’s so weird about it. letting the impulsive decisions take you over, you throw a rock at his window. hopefully, you’ll get his attention and he’ll come down, so you can see how he does it. or he’ll just go through the front door… whatever he does, you need to ask him this question right now. or else you’ll never be able to sleep again.

when throwing the rock gets tedious and noisy, you quit. just as you’re about to drop to the ground in annoyance, you hear a distant whipping sound. you hold your breath as if the person whipping will hear you.

fuck. it wasn’t a good idea for you to go out at night.

suddenly feeling anxious and scared, you slowly creep towards the sorority house. you don’t get too far before you see a body flinging through the air. the whipping noise gets closer and closer to you with every web on the streetlights. what the…

there’s only one person that could possibly be doing the impossible.

spider-man.

but what was he doing in your little neighborhood? this was one of the safest places in the area, so he didn’t need to check up here. there were so many more places in massachusetts that needed saving. feeling beyond curious, your feet scatter to hide you behind one of the untrimmed bushes.

you watch through crowded leaves as spider-man swings through the neighborhood, getting towards you. it’s like he can sense you and he’s coming for you. your heart thumps wildly in your chest, nervous about seeing him. you’ve never seen him before, and at least not in person. he was popular on the newspaper and television screens, but never on the street. unless you lived within the city.

with one long and final thwip, spider-man flings himself towards the frat house.

what. the…

you place your hand over your mouth, just in case your breathing is too loud. you intensely watch as the spider crawls up the white wall and towards the only lit window in the whole house.

no. fucking. way.

before you could fully register what you were seeing, you felt the gasp leave your mouth. you slap both of your hands on your face to shut yourself up. you nearly fall back on your heels as spider-man halts his movements. he scans his surroundings before jumping down the wall entirely.

your eyes are wide and your hands of shaking. you’ve never felt your heart beat so unbelievably fast, but you’ve also never been more afraid. what does he do to people that find out? what is going to happen to your relationship?

the body of blue and red stocks closer to the bushes with careful steps. you try to scoot away, but your back hits the fence. the wood creaks, your actions not quiet enough. his footsteps pick up speed as they rush to the bushes with determination.

spider-man jumps over the plant with grace, hoping to see a wild animal of some sort. but when he sees his girl with the most shocked and terrified expression in the world, he immediately falls to his knees.

“y/n,” he calmly says, slowly inching to you. he doesn’t hesitate to comfort you as peter. you don’t move, you just listen. “it’s okay. i promise.”

now that he sensed you, peter could hear your heartbeat overbearingly in his ears. he could hear your muffled breaths under your palm, and he just wanted to soothe your fear.

“baby,” he wanted to cuddle your body until you stopped shaking. you weren’t crying, you were just in shock. peter takes a quick glance at his surroundings before yanking off his mask and kneeling, so you could see his face reflecting off the moonlight. “it’s just me.”

“i…” you whispered as your hands fell from your face. peter doesn’t hesitate to grab them gently with his gloved ones. “…knew it.”

“you knew i was spider-man?”

“well… for like five seconds,” you flusteredly laugh while trying to recover. you still haven’t gotten used to this. well it’s only been a minute. “i knew you were hiding something.”

“what are you doing out this late anyway?” he stares straight up at the moon as it shines vehemently over you both.

“uh… well,” you start, “i was kind of curious as to how you always snuck into my bedroom without a latter or something, so i went to see? i don’t really know what i was looking for.”

peter chuckles. “but you found your answer, yeah?”

“yeah, i did,” you smile with sweetness as peter helps you up from the grass floor.

—

“it’s different breaking into your room rather than mine,” you say as you sit on the edge of peter’s bed. you watch as he tosses his mask inside of a box labeled books. “so that’s what was in the box. not dirty magazines.”

“surprise?” peter laughs and you giggle at his shyness. his cheeks and nose were red from the cold, but also from the slight blush that crossed them. you made him feel all warm and tingly inside, and even a little gooey.

his hand reaches for the button on his chest. it deflates, instantly becoming huge around him.

“wait,” you stop him before he undresses himself. he looks towards you. “can i just… look at you for a moment? in the suit?”

a small smirk creeps up his face. peter clicks the button again and his suit encloses on his body, outlining his muscles perfectly. every ridge and curve of him was being shown off by the spandex. you felt a spark of lust fire inside of you at the sight.

“like me in my suit, baby?” he teased as he trudged over to you. you stood up from the bed to meet his buff chest. you nodded with a bite of your lip.

he nearly growls before attaching your lips. it’s barely been a day since he’s last kissed you, but that’s too long for him. his gloved hand grips your jaw to deepen the kiss while your hands explore his messy hair.

the heat between you was undeniable. you were getting worked up over peter in his suit, and that’s something you never thought was possible. because you didn’t think peter being spider-man was possible.

is there a spider-man kink?

you take your shirt off after breaking the kiss, but resume it in no time. as he pushes you onto the bed, you stop him, having a new idea in mind.

“peter,” you sigh, spandex body hovering over yours.

“you okay?”

“yeah, yes. i just…” you swallowed, “can i…”

you didn’t really get your question out. you just slithered your body off the bed until your knees were digging into his carpet. peter’s eyebrows shoot up as he stares down at your figure, submissive below him.

“fuck. you want to touch my cock?” peter was already growing hard at the idea of fucking you in his suit. he found it hot that you found his suit hot. everything seemed to be a turn on right now. but now you were on your fucking knees like an angel and damn near begging to touch him?

how could he say no?

“go ahead then, sweet girl,” peter allows, but you stay still.

“how do i take it off—?”

“right—”

he unzips a zipper that you swear wasn’t there before. you barely take him fully out before you’re drooling at the sight. he was big and thick, and you don’t think you’d ever get used to looking at and feeling him.

your thumb drags over his weepy tip and he winces at your freezing touch.

“sorry!” you exclaimed with a funky smile. he forcefully laughs while you spit warmth into your hand.

“it’s okay, baby.”

your delicate hand wraps around him as you shift up and down. he sighs into the air, eyes fluttering back. your other hand scratches his thighs lightly. then, you fondle his balls until he’s groaning above you.

“fuck, darling,” he moans as his rough hand rests on your head. with his grip on you, you feel inclined to put your mouth on him. you’re barely an inch away, so what are you waiting for?

your lips pucker as you kiss his veiny shaft. you see from the top of your eyes how his face floods with pleasure, and your ego rises.

“if you look at me like that again, i’m going to explode, baby,” peter husks with his fingers laced in your hair for support.

with a hummed chuckle, you finally place your mouth on him. you suck on his leaky tip as a deep groan elicits from him. his noises always give you a bunch of reassurance, so you hum against him in satisfaction.

“takin’ me so well,” peter forces himself to stay still and let you do all the work. although, his hips just want to break free and ram into the back of your throat until you lose your voice. for another time… “love when you’re on your knees for me.”

you vibrated a moan against his cock as you took him deeper, a little more than half way. you were never the best at giving head because you couldn’t go that far down without gagging atrociously, but after peter showed you a better technique, for breathing and comfort, he thought you were a professional.

“you like being on your knees for me? or for spider-man?”

a groggy moan rippled around his cock from your filled throat, confirming his suspicions. you were definitely turned of the idea of peter as spider-man, and because of that, he was too. every time you were horny, peter was too.

you released your hands from him and braced them on his thighs. you focused and remembered the small notes he’s given you before. you take a long breath before sinking his cock deep in the back of your mouth. your thumb stabs your palm to eliminate your gag reflex, and it works. your nose nudges the base of his cock and you can see up close how his abs contract tightly.

“fuck! doing so good for me. going to make me come, sweet girl.”

hearing this, you bob and twist your head with a goal. your tongue swirls exploring around each ridge like it’s never tasted the plain before. peter was delicious; he was sweet with a pinch of saltiness that made you a fan of giving head. you would get on your knees any day for him.

his cock twitches in your mouth, warning you that he’s coming. you feel his hips buck into you as he strongly yanks your hair. you groan as he lets himself go.

“where do you want it? on your face? chest? or are you going to swallow it like a good girl?”

even when his dick twitches again, you don’t make an effort to move. you lick the underside of him, which sends peter over the edge.

a string of hushed groans fall from his pink lips as his muscles clench. ropes of his orgasm spurts down your throat, and you swallow every drop like a champ. well, almost all. parts of his come drip from the corner of your lip as he slowly pulls out of you.

the second he exits you, your jaw is instantly sore and achy, but it was worth it. to see the flustered and breathless peter above you was worthless everytime. peter was nearly disoriented by how fucking incredible your mouth was. how you were.

he tucks himself back into his suit as you remain on the floor. he leans down and helps you up, your knees popping in the process.

“how was it this time?” you croaked, voice cracking horrendously. peter tries not to laugh as he wipes away the nearly dried sperm on your face. you open your mouth without a thought, and he sticks his thumb in your mouth for you to lick it clean.

“it was good. fucking amazing. impeccable. exceeded expectations. outstanding performance—”

“okay, okay i get it. you’re a nerd!” you brokenedly laugh as you shove his chest. you got a sudden wave of chills because you were starting to get a bit cold. your body was still running hot because you were still, well, turned on.

“nerds are awesome, okay? they know everything.”

“like what? impress me,” you challenge as you throw your leg on top of his lap and get yourself seated. he smirks, feeling his cock chuff up a bit already. you were beyond soaked in your panties, and you just couldn’t wait for peter to destroy you.

peter knows you didn’t actually want him to say anything nerdy, so he made it a bit sexual. as always.

“they know how to… kiss.”

“you’re probably the one nerd that knows how to kiss.”

“okay, fine. i know how to kiss,” his hand cups your face as it leans closer towards his. he places a soft, longing kiss on your swollen lips before pulling away way too fast for your liking. “i know how to touch you, i know how to rile you up. right? i’m doing it right now. and you’re probably soaking.”

a warmth wave floods through your body at his words.

“i know how to talk to you too. bet these dirty words are going straight to your little clit, huh?”

“peter,” you whimper. he was right. he was beyond right.

his hand trails down your bare stomach and hovers over your clothed cunt. he can feel the heavy heat radiating from you through your leggings, begging for more.

“i can feel you. i can smell you, too. a perk of being spider-man,” he smiles, “guess this nerd is pretty great.”

“peter!” you shook his shoulders in desperation, but he didn’t move. you had a love hate relationship with his teasing. he indeed got you riled up, to the max, until you were begging him to touch you. he just dragged it on and on and on. he loved hearing you beg for it.

“okay, okay, sweet girl,” peter chuckled as his fingers fumbled down the waistline of your leggings. they were thick, so you helped him get them down. “just want to hear you say how awesome nerds are first. how do you think i made these webs?”

“you’re the hottest, super-nerd i’ve ever met in my life. now can you please fuck me?” you begged as your cunt ached.

“aw thanks, baby,” all he did was laugh at your misery with a smirk. “all you had to do was say please.”

—

note: not my best work, but i hope you enjoyeddd. literally posting this at 1 am :D

taglist: @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz

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[arafilez]

☆ ⼂ LOVE, TAILORED ﹗one

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜[ fashion designer khj x ceo fem!reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤfluff, crack, e2l 𓏧 for the company assets you have to work with solo designer kim hongjoong. even if it meant him annoying you at every step. ㅤ warnings flirting ㅤ﹢ㅤ2.1k wc ꔫㅤㅤ ❜part one . two . three

Headstrong. Calm. Organised.

This is how you are described everywhere you step foot in. Wearing a Chanel dress, Louis Vuitton handbag and Balenciaga shoes you made sure you are an icon wherever you step, and that typical red-lipped smile in every camera that is ready to capture you.

You aren’t afraid to show you are made from money. And of money too. Yes, you got the company from your father. But under you the company grew bigger, made overseas branches and had more affiliations with other companies.

Your father trusted you enough to hand it over to you on your twenty-fourth birthday. And by your twenty-sixth birthday, you proved to be one of the best CEOs among all leading companies worldwide.

Known among your workers for a bright smile, kind heart and nice behaviour you are never anyone’s bad example. Your working style is organised and you are always calm, strict when only there is an absolute need to be.

So why are you now holding your secretary cum best friend Park Seonghwa by the collar against your table?

Seonghwa’s eyes bulge looking at your fuming face while he tries to explain, “Calm down, he isn’t that bad.”

Leaving his collar, you stand back as you watch Seonghwa fix his tie and shirt which was wrinkled by you. You scoff lightly and look at him saying, “Not bad? Of course, he isn’t bad, he is just simply terrible.”

“How do you even know that? You haven’t worked with him yet” Seonghwa retorts as you roll your eyes.

“Yes,” you breathe, "but I have seen him on numerous shows. And he is the most arrogant, self-absorbed bit- I mean person I have ever seen. It is clear from his attitude."

The thing is, your company is about modelling. And though you do have your own fashion designers, Kim Hongjoong has a great influence on the world. He has no company behind him though. His bold fashion statements which he made alone and his dressing sense earned numerous applause from everywhere. At the mere age of twenty-seven, he can easily be called one of the most successful solo acts in the world.

“Look you understand right? How big this will be on the market? Kim Hongjoong is a self-made fashion designer. Collaborating with him will increase your company assets. And besides you know how people’s on-screen and off-screen personalities are different,” Seonghwa explains as you keep quiet.

Maybe he is right, maybe Kim Hongjoong isn’t such a person as he has built his image to be. You sigh quietly as you take your pen and sign into the contract paper, handing it over to Seonghwa.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

The cool November breeze hits your face as you see a black car stop and Kim Hongjoong getting out of it.

As soon as Kim Hongjoong enters your building you can feel the aura changing. He has a confident strut, holding a coffee in one hand and a black file in another. His body is covered by a black overcoat, simple light-blue jeans and a black silk shirt.

And you can say he makes it work.

You stand quietly at the entrance of your building in a black pantsuit with a black coat hanging loosely over your shoulders. But you feel extremely underdressed as you see the man and gasp a bit visibly but gain your composure back in seconds, a professional smile etching your face.

After the initial introduction, you shake hands with him as multiple reporters take photos before you head inside the building, ignoring the cries of the reporters. Seonghwa walks behind you and Hongjoong and reaching the elevator he presses the buttons while you stand there patiently waiting for it.

It feels calm, too calm for its own good, before Hongjoong leans in slowly and whispers to your ear, “Oh Darling, the reporters might not have noticed but I clearly saw you gawking at me.”

Your breath hitches in your throat feeling his face so close to you, face heating up as he stands up straight again casually and you try to process what just happened. His warm breath lingers in your ears as you take a deep breath trying to calm yourself.

And then you scoff lightly. You were absolutely right.

And Seonghwa was wrong.

Kim Hongjoong is a total jerk and you know it right then and there.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

You let him enter your office as Hongjoong’s eyes scan the room in a boring manner. You feel judged and that makes you glare at him from behind until Seonghwa nudges you and you look away.

Good lord, he has two-toned hair, what is this even? Why is one part of his hair black and the other white? You want to make a snarky remark so bad about it, especially after the elevator incident but you keep quiet.

Being a jerk is not how you deal with a jerk.

Seonghwa’s voice cuts your thoughts saying, “Mr. Kim, please take a seat.” Hongjoong simply nods before sitting down on the sofa as you sit down on the opposite side.

You cleared your throat lightly before nodding your head to the file and Seonghwa walked over to bring it.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Kim,” you say politely as he finally looks up and meets your eyes. “Yeah, nice to meet you too,” he replies before looking back at the file again.

You try your best to not gasp in disbelief. Seriously, like he can’t even say a greeting properly. You jerk in shock as Seonghwa’s hand touches your shoulder as he slips the file in between your hands whispering a quick “good luck” before leaving the room.

You sigh quietly before addressing Hongjoong and say, “Mr. Kim I believe we need to start worki-“ and immediately get interrupted by him saying, “Can you loosen up a bit?”

“What?” you stare at him as he makes himself comfortable leaning back on the sofa. “I said loosen up a little, what’s with all this uptight behaviour?” Hongjoong smiles as you roll your eyes visibly.

“In case you have forgotten Mr. Kim, I am a CEO. So yes I like things organised and I am not uptight, I am professional, unlike well,” you say laughing lightly, “you.”

“Damn you really are uptight, I used to think that was all for T.V,” Hongjoong says eyes boring into yours as you bite back a snarky remark.

Be professional. Do the business for the two months collaboration and then it will be over. You can deal with him for two months. You can.

“Anyways, I think we can plan this out-“ and again you get interrupted by Hongjoong saying, “Plan? Fashion needs no planning! It is all about spontaneity and with someone as uptight as you I can’t possibly do any work, darling.”

“Do not call me that, Kim Hongjoong,” you snap as he smirks, “Oh, leaving all formalities so soon?” he teases as you purse your lips. God this man is insufferable.

“Look, we need to work together for two months, and I want to make this work, Mr Kim, so please cooperate,” you try to make him listen as he finally gives in.

“Yeah alright, we can start with your plan now, but when we start real work we will follow my work ethic,” Hongjoong says as you mouth opens wide. You tilt your head slightly before opening your own file. This is some progress and you are willing to take it. Time was ticking away.

He nods at everything and much to your dismay never takes any notes but you don’t call him out as it will result in another pointless argument. After everything is done you close the file looking up at him as he keeps his eyes trained on his hands thinking something.

After a moment of silence, he gets up suddenly and extends his hand as you look back cautiously but shake it anyway. You voice out, “Pleasure doing business with you Mr. Kim.” You see him smirking lightly and you wait for what remark he is about to make.

“Pleasure doing business with you too darling,” he replies in a honey-laced voice as you shoot daggers at his back glaring at him.

This time you were wrong.

You cannot possibly work for two months with this man.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

It has been a week since Hongjoong came here. He had wanted a week to design the dresses in his copy before showing them to you. You had happily granted him the week, the less you see of him, the better.

Now, Hongjoong is late- by twenty minutes. Your patience is decreasing with each passing second and you warily look at Seonghwa who just gives you a sympathetic smile. You curse Hongjoong in your mind but soon enough your door swings open as you abruptly sit up.

Hongjoong walks in and Seonghwa takes his leave as you stare at him.

“Ah yes, your eyes will be blessed if you stare like that,” Hongjoong says smirking as you look away scoffing. The audacity of this man- first, twenty minutes late, second, has no decency of mere knocking, third, thinking you are swooning over him.

“I am not swooning over you Kim,” you snap before realising what you called him and your eyes widen.

“I did not say you were swooning, did I? Darling?” he smiles in an innocent manner that just makes your blood boil. God why is he so insufferable.

You dismiss his comment and hate at the same time how your ears grow warm at the mention of the pet name that he probably calls everybody.

But then again he was free of scandals, to the point where people thought he was asexual.

You scolded your mind for thinking of unnecessary details before delving into work.

“You know what? Just show me which designs you have made. We are already behind schedule,” you sighed as you cocked his eyebrows at you.

“You and your schedule, didn’t I tell you fashion is all about spontaneity?” Hongjoong says lightly and your eyes bore into him. “Yeah well be all spontaneous as you want, I am not the fashion designer here,” you comment as Hongjoong shrugs.

He hands you the file as you flip through the pages. You awe at the designs because they have impeccable style and every one was unique in its own way. As much as you hate Hongjoong you cannot not underestimate his talent at these.

Your eyes get stuck in a drawing of a dress which has flowers as the design. It was so beautiful you almost wish he made it specifically for you.

Keyword- almost!

“Well looks like Miss Schedule is speechless now,” Hongjoong’s cocky voice makes you glare at him as you slide back the file. Goddamn, he just had to ruin the fine moment you were having with the dress.

“I will just come right out and say it- your designs are impeccable,” you smile pausing and then saying, “but you are very fucking annoying,” you smirk satisfactorily as his face changes from confident to surprise.

“Well that was some smooth-talking, wasn’t it darling?” he gains back his composure within seconds and you fume saying, “Don’t call me that.”

He smiles cheekily before getting up and walking towards the door. You groan in your hands quietly before getting up whisper-shouting, “Kim wait up, you have to meet the models.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

Meeting the models was a fairly easy process. Hongjoong asked for their proportions which Seonghwa promptly handed him over in a big copy.

You stood at the door quietly scoffing every time the models tried to flirt with him and he gave a deaf year to them. Where were people’s dignity nowadays?

After meeting with the models you are now walking with Hongjoong to show him his working area. Seonghwa leaves to get to some other work and you are now left alone with him again. The walk down the hallway was pretty quiet as Hongjoong looked around observing everything inside the building.

You quietly open the door to the lavish working room as he looks around and nods. You stand there patiently as he checks the drawers and sewing area. You now realise why he doesn’t take on any big projects, he has no workers and does all of this himself.

The tenacity he has is admirable. Only if he didn’t have such a big mouth.

He hums in satisfaction and turns towards you as you cock your eyebrows. “So do I get a schedule for this too? Maybe a binder?” he challenges as you roll your eyes.

“Just get along with your work Kim,” you replied gritting your teeth.

“Sure darling,” he grins and you turn on your heels to leave. The less time you are in the same room as him, the better.

“Did he just call you, darling?” you jump at the voice behind you as soon as you leave the room.

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤidea credit to @iwishiwasrichasfuck. banner made by @/DathanHamen in wattpad. idk if i can bring the story to life. but i genuinely am trying my best ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerr @tunaasan @stellarlune-love @jeonghanfr @soocore @chaotic-floral @loveateezㅤmain mlistㅤ atz listㅤ navi ㅤtaglist

© arafilez on tumblr. please don't copy and repost my work as your own.

[flamebringer0]

[Image ID: Sketches of an original character, numbered from one to ten. He is a Nightwing, a kind of dragon from the Wings of Fire series. Each sketch depicts him posed differently. In the first sketch, he is using his forelegs to hold a spear while using his back legs and wings to walk. In the second, he is looking at his tail through his forelegs. In the third, he is sitting on a deck chair. In the fourth, he is standing normally and displaying the undersides of his wings. In the fifth, he is flying. In the sixth, he is standing on his back legs and looks uncomfortable, like he's about to fall over. In the seventh, he is standing on his forelegs and looks even more uncomfortable. In the eighth, he is laying on his stomach, looking away from the camera. In the ninth, he is standing with his forelegs braced against some kind of barrier, looking over the top of it. In the tenth, he is sitting on his haunches looking away from the camera. /.End ID]

Sketching random poses for practice.

Part [1] [2]

Some commentary:

1. Dragons in WOF are often described as moving around while holding objects like spears and scrolls. This usually looks weird to me in the graphic novels, where they mostly end up doing a strange three-legged walk that I imagine would get tiring after a while. There's also a part in The Lost Heir where Anemone apparently walks around with a lance jammed in her armpit... foreleg-pit... whatever. My headcanon is that this three-legged walk doesn't really happen, and instead the way to walk while holding something is to either hold it with your wing, or (as shown here) walk with your wings and hold it with your forefeet. I think this idea might sound weird and therefore not occur to people because they think that the wing is so thin that it must be too flimsy to walk on, but I feel that if it's strong enough to carry a dragon in flight it must be strong enough for this. Maybe. It makes sense to me anyway.

2. Originally this was sort of inspired by the pose at 0:34 in this video (cw for violence). I wasn't really satisfied with how my attempt looked so I changed the head to be doing something else. I still like that pose though and I might try it again.

3. This was inspired by Spyro sleeping on the deck chair in the remake of Spyro 2. I don't know if they have deck chairs in Pyrrhia. My friend told me the chair is about to get impaled and i guess he's correct. Maybe it's made of a very thick fabric.

4. This is how dragons T-pose.

5. What do dragons do with their legs in flight? This question bedevils me. When I was creating my Minecraft skin (this) I changed how the legs are posed during the flight animation several times, and I'm still not sure it really looks right.

6. Before I got into WOF I mostly only drew anthro characters, so something I want to understand better is how to draw a character standing on two legs without making it look like they have a human skeleton. My headcanon is that dragons can learn to stand and even walk like this, but most don't. You can tell an expert from an amateur because an expert will stand all the way up onto their toes, whereas an amateur will keep their heels on the ground. I think the main students of this technique are circus performers. If you do this in public you will be stared at. The only tribe where a lot of dragons can do it is Rainwings, because they think it's funny. The only major non-Rainwing character who can do it is Qibli.

7. Standing on your forelegs isn't really considered harder than standing on your hind legs, but it is considered a more advanced technique because you're much more likely to snap your neck if you fall over.

8. It's really hard for me to draw a tail curling away from the camera like this. I don't exactly understand what I'm doing wrong. The scales look weirdly skewed to me, like a Playstation game where the polygons are touching the edge of the screen. This happens regularly but I haven't figured out what to do about it.

9. Standing on two legs is a lot easier if you brace the other two up against the wall.

10. Wings look silly here. Wings are the hardest part of these sketches to make look naturalistic I think, probably because I conceptualise dragon bodies as like ... a dog with wings, as opposed to a bat with forelegs. Hopefully if I keep doing this I will be able to develop a holistic understanding of the anatomy of a body plan that does not exist. That's my ambition, anyway.

[hothothotch]

hi sweetheart! after you absolutely killed my last request and cleaned every dish with it MM MM MMMMM I'm back

this time, DBF!Hotch. The two of you got caught on your dad's new security camera beside the house that you didn't know about. Your dad tries to send aaron home to chew you out on it but Aaron gets all defensive and refuses to let you take the fall for both of your actions (maybe this leads to aaron's first acknowledgement that he loves you, 😮‍💨) but yes just protective!hotch standing up for you and your relationship 🦋🦋

Hello I'm baaaack!

I'm finally taking the web off the asks that got lost on my inbox when I disappeared, so you may see me for a few days!

Requests are still open, and you're invited to send anything Aaron Hotchner on my way.

Thank you for your request!

LUCK: sucess or failure apparently brought by chance rather than through one's own actions. Chance considered as a force that causes good or bad things to happen.

With you, it was usually bad things.

Of course, there were exceptions — like when you graduated in law, only a few months ago; or the day your father (the Senator) allowed you to go for a guided visit to the FBI to study it's many Units just because you wanted to see law being applied on different contexts; or — and this one was your absolute favorite — when you stumbled into your dad's best friend, Aaron Hotchner.

The latter one had been an absolute blast.

Aaron Hotchner was BAU's Unit Chief, and thanks to his ties with your father, he had been the one responsible for your tour of the sixth floor. Aaron had been attentive and careful, he embraced your curiosity as if he was being paid to give someone a tour, and not to find serial killers.

At the end of your tour, he offered you his number because, "I was a lawyer, so if you ever need something, or another tour, just give me a call".

One week later, you called him to ask for advice on a hard case you've taken at the law firm you were working at; Aaron asked you to dinner so you could talk privately about it, and helped you go over the case files. You also talked some more about your private lives — how he had an 8-year-old son, how you had a dog, how both your jobs took more time from you than you wanted. At the end of the dinner, there was another one scheduled.

Aaron had to reschedule that one (a case in Alaska wanted his immediate attention), but he knocked on your door first thing when he came back, a bouquet of flowers (sunflowers, to be exact) in hand as he proposed you'd go out for that delayed dinner. You accepted right away.

The third date was at your home, and that was the first time you kissed. The first time you've done way more than kissing. By the time Aaron left your home that night — staying over wasn't an option when he had a son at home —, you were sure there was nothing you wanted more than a solid career and to have that man's hands on you again.

That was when things started to go wrong.

You've had your fourth date scheduled when a pipe at your home exploded, causing a flood to start in your bathroom and spread all over your house; and while you weren't excited to go back into living with your father, that was the only available (and financially worthy) option, because you certainly wouldn't ask Aaron to let you live with him.

No. Nope. Absolutely not.

It wasn't like you were dating, on the romantic sense of the word. Yes, you had feelings for him; yes, you messaged so often that people had asked more than once if you were in a relationship; and yes, you did way more than just making out like hormonal teenagers whenever you had a second to be together.

But Aaron had a son, and you had a golden retriever (and said golden retriever was too attached to Aaron, to be honest), and a month and a few days of hookup wasn't enough to justify calling someone and saying, "Hey, mind if I crash down at yours while my pipes are being changed?".

"Yes, honey" Aaron nodded, looking down at you as he played with your hair, "That's exactly what you should've said".

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in bewilderment. That was probably the third time you've been having that discussion, but it was the first time you've done it personally since Aaron had just came back from a case.

As usual, Aaron spent the night at home with Jack (he did invite you to go over, but you didn't feel like you were this far in your relationship to say yes) and appeared first thing in the morning at your father's house to see you. Now, you were lying together on the backyard, Aaron looking down at you, prompted up on his shoulders as you laid on the towel you brought out.

It was intimate, cute. The kind of moment you wouldn't have anywhere else, since the two of you lived on apartments. It was special, as if there was something more going on there, something unspoken.

Frightening. That was the word to describe it. And yet...

"I'll keep that in mind next time" you replied, a smile spreading on your face at the sight of the smallest quirk on his lips, "I like it when you smile, Aaron".

Aaron's smile widened, and God — you could feel your heart beating faster at that godly image, at the fact that you had put that smile on his face, the realization that his look of adoration was for you, and not any other woman.

"I like it when you smile, too" he whispered, leaning to press a soft kiss against your lips, "Even if this is not a rare occasion, because you're the softest person I've met".

"Oh, come on!" you pushed him away, and even if it was nothing more than the touch of your hand against his chest, Aaron pretended to fall backward on the towel, a silent invitation for you to lay on his chest, "I'm not soft!".

"Yes, you are" Aaron replied with a laugh, "Even more than Garcia, and she's essentially a marshmallow".

You gasped at his words, placing your hand on your heart as if he had offended you, "I can't believe you said that! I am a serious lawyer!".

"Never said you weren't, honey" Aaron pointed, pressing a soft kiss against your head, "Just that you're a very soft lawyer, that's always good to everybody".

"Which some would point as a weakness".

"Some are stupid" Aaron shrugged, "You are not. You're the best lawyer I've met, and I know you can do great things, baby".

You didn't know how to react to his words if there was an appropriate way to react. On these few months you've been seeing each other, Aaron had made a point of cheering you on whenever he could, and even managed to watch some of your court hearings (a benefit he got from being both an ex-lawyer and an FBI Agent), always having some strategic input for the next one.

Aaron has been helping, and has been hearing. He believed you even when you weren't sure your father believed.

God, you loved that man.

"Thank you" you whispered shyly, moving to kiss his lips, "I don't know what—".

"What the fuck is happening here?".

So, here's where the word luck suddenly turns into unluck. That specific moment in time, when you realize that the feeling of something missed you've been nurturing, had nothing to do with a lack of word to define your relationship with Aaron, but with the fact that at the end of the day... your father had no idea you've been dating Aaron.

It wasn't like you were hiding it from him — you've been open about dating someone, and he was aware that he knew that someone, but in truth you've never properly told him who that someone was. And while you wanted to say it was pretty obvious (because you've lost count on how many times you and your dad talked about Aaron when having dinner together), your dad had never been the one to read between the lines.

So, yeah. That was kinda your fault.

"Dad!" you stood up immediately, thanking every god available you and Aaron had decided to just lay outside, and not do something else, "You're home early".

"Yeah? You tell me" your dad snorted bitterly, looking between you and Aaron with anger written all over his face, "I was watching the security camera because I know this is when you get Lucky ready for her walk, and what do I see? You and Aaron here together! What was I supposed to do?".

You had some answers on your mind, but none of them seemed important as you looked around, eyes half-closed as you studied the space around you, "There are no security cameras on the backyard".

"Thank God I put on some last week!" your father pointed, "I thought you'd be safer if I did, and now I see that was providential for some other reasons".

You noticed when Aaron stood up beside you, his hand touching the small of your back softly, "There's no reason for you to talk with that this way".

"No reason? No—" your dad stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose for a second before he pointed at Aaron, "You, I want you out of my house. And you—".

"No".

For a second, you thought you'd been the one to mutter that simple word, that you had dared to say 'no' to your father to defend a... situationship with Aaron; it made sense because in your heart you wanted — craved — to tell your father that he couldn't tell you who you could date, or to put your "I'm an adult" speech to use, but you hadn't been the person to retort.

It had been Aaron.

"What did you say?" your father barked, his eyes twitching in nervousness.

"I said no" Aaron replied, taking a step in front of you, "You're not gonna talk like that with her. Not today, not ever".

"I'm her father—".

"That doesn't mean you don't owe her respect!" Aaron retorted, his voice louder than your father's, "You wanna talk about us, that's your right. You wanna know about us, that's also your right. But to scream with her in order to get some manipulated answer, that's not happening, not on my watch".

You knew you were supposed to step up and say something. Maybe you should tell Aaron to leave, so you could talk privately to your father; maybe you should stand with Aaron and leave with him because, honestly, you were dreading this specific talk.

But having Aaron defending you?

You've decided to study law because you knew what it was not to have someone on your back. Of course, your father had defended you in some instances, but there were other moments he'd made it known he'd step out so you could solve things by yourself; it did help you build character (as he used to say), but you missed having someone patting your back at the end of the day, or helping with the fights you just didn't feel ready to fight.

Aaron was just that person.

You didn't know if it was because he was FBI or it was his lawyer side rubbing in again, but it didn't matter — Aaron was fighting for you. Fighting for what you had.

God, you really loved that man.

"Okay" your father humphed, both his hands on his waist as he looked directly at you, "Then plead your case. And I hope is a good plea, because I didn't pay for the best university is this country for you to give me some lame reasoning—".

"Shut up!".

Yeah, this time it was you. And you knew that if you didn't go on with that, you probably would get too afraid to continue, so... "I'm an adult, dad" you cringed at how lame your words sounded in front of what Aaron had just said, "I won't say there isn't an age gap..."

"Twenty years" your father pointed between gritted teeth.

"But I'm an adult!" you stomped your feet, holding Aaron's arm, "I'm 28, I'm a lawyer, and I..." you closed your eyes, biting your bottom lip before those three words escaped her lips, "I can make my own decisions, dad. I'm not asking for your permission, I'm asking acceptance".

Silence. Deafening silence.

"Can I talk to Aaron?" your father asked finally. You could read anger all over his face, the way his jaw was tense and his hands were closed in fists, but you could also see defeat in his eyes — the realization that it didn't matter what he did or said, you'd stick to what you had with Aaron.

And you were proud of yourself.

You looked up at Aaron, waiting to see if he wanted to have this talk with your father, even if you knew he was too much a gentleman to refuse something like that (you had your doubts he'd ask for permission if he ever decided to pop the question — but why the hell were you thinking about that?), which was quickly confirmed with his curt nod, "Okay" you whispered.

With a gentle smile towards Aaron, you made your way towards your dad, stopping your walk beside him before whispering, "I love him. Please, don't fuck with that".

He didn't answer, nor looked at you. Taking it as your leave, you walked back inside the house, closing the door behind you — but not quick enough not to hear Aaron's final words.

"I fucking love your daughter, man. Please, don't fuck it up".

Maybe you weren't that unlucky, after all.

Thank you for the request!

[octopus-punching-union]

Thoughts on the new chapter...

Ed was NOT what I was expecting lol

Lyca is a sweetheart. Darkwick is totally lying about letting him go back to Neros after he acclimates to human society. (I have a bad feeling that we're going to find out something like Neros gave Lyca to Darkwick...)

Obscuary has only been around for two years. Has Ed only been with the Academy for two years?

Ed knows a lot about anomalies and the Academy doesn't listen to him. He's spoken up about the confinement and handling of anomalies before. The last couple of chapters are making me really dislike the Chancellor and Moby. (Or maybe it's orders coming down from a higher authority at the Institute? Jin's father?)

Was Rui previously in Ultio? He already knew about the secret prison. But he didn't know about Lyca, so maybe not. Or maybe he was in Clementia? He was kinda evasive when he was talking about that and his curse...

More on the prison — we've seen the Barometz before. MC passed by it while exploring the prison the first time. The mission notes said they considered the Barometz to be low-risk, so why were they keeping it in the prison? How do they decide what is imprisoned and what isn't?

Interesting that the Academy has surveillance within the prison (and the security guards aren't super competent). Did they have cameras on Lyca, too? Did they know when MC found the prison? Do they know that Subaru has been visiting Lyca this whole time?

I don't think the murder that sparked the Clash was Alan killing Dante. (I've been thinking for a while that Alan "killed" Dante before Darkwick.)

What does "one eyed sleeping beauty" mean, anyway? Is that descriptive of the victim and/or crime scene? Who was killed, anyway? (One eyed = the body was missing an eye? Sleeping beauty = the body/crime scene was otherwise peaceful? Just throwing out ideas here.)

I think the list of murder suspects is a red herring. Wouldn't the Academy lock up whoever they thought was the killer? Interesting that Taiga and Romeo aren't on the list.

Is Ed's "sixth sense" his stigma, or is it a vampire thing?

Rui apparently doesn't need to say anything to use his stigma. (According to Hyde in the prologue, this is rare. He also said that Jin is/was also able to do it... I think Jin can do it again, we didn't see him using his incantation in Vagastrom.)

Gonna reread today. I feel like I missed a lot.