#I LOVE THAT SHE'S WEARING HER SISTERS' BRAND

[pucksandpower]

The Princess and the Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Princess of Denmark!Reader

Summary: in which you follow the time-honored tradition of Danish royalty falling in love with Australians

Note: dedicated to my favorite Dane, @struggling-with-drivers, who had to put up with me taking months to finally get the proper inspiration to write this

“And if you’ll just follow me, Your Majesty and Your Royal Highnesses, I’ll take you to meet Kevin now,” the overly peppy Haas PR representative says as she gestures down the garage.

You force a smile, trying not to physically recoil as you take in the assault of garish Haas branding surrounding you. The white, red, and black color scheme is far too harsh on the eyes this early on a Saturday morning.

“Oh goody,” your younger sister Josephine says flatly, eliciting a snort from your younger brother Vincent.

Your mother, Queen Mary, shoots the two a reproachful look before turning back to the PR rep with a polished smile. “We’re very excited to meet Kevin and support Denmark’s driver.”

The PR rep beams and starts leading you further into the Haas garage, rattling on about Haas’ ambitious goals for the season as you pass mechanics in matching black Haas polos barely paying you any mind.

You internally groan, already dreading the interaction ahead. As the Crown Princess, you’ve long perfected the art of feigning interest, but this weekend has tested even your limits.

“And I know meeting the future queen will just make Kevin’s day!” The rep continues enthusiastically. “He was so honored when King Frederik reached out about you all coming this weekend to support him.”

You resist the urge to snort. More like the royal communications secretary reached out when they realized the Australian Grand Prix overlapped with your visit to your mother’s family in Australia. Nothing like conveniently timing a royal appearance to drum up positive press.

Your younger sister, Isabella, sidles up next to you, linking her arm through yours commiseratingly. At 16, she’s already mastered your family’s signature skill — conveying boredom through a pleasant facial expression.

“I have some fresh sets of Haas merch we would love for you to wear when you meet Kevin,” the rep says, holding out stacks of Haas emblazoned caps and shirts insistently. “It would mean so much to the team for you to showcase your support.”

You force a smile, already shaking your head. “Oh, I’m afraid we can’t wear anything with advertisements or sponsors per royal protocol.”

The PR rep’s face falls slightly before she plasters the smile back on. “Of course, Your Royal Highness, I understand. Shall we?”

She gestures further down the garage to where the Haas drivers are standing with team personnel. Kevin Magnussen spots your approach, nudging his teammate before they turn towards you.

As you reach them, Kevin steps forward first, offering a short bow. “Your Majesty, Your Royal Highnesses, it’s an honor to meet you.”

You offer your hand, which he takes, bowing again as he brushes his lips over your knuckles. “The honor is ours, Mr. Magnussen. Denmark is proud to have you representing us in Formula 1.”

Kevin smiles bashfully as you drop his hand. “Please, call me Kevin.”

You return his smile politely. “Very well, Kevin it is.”

The rest of your family exchanges pleasantries with Kevin before the PR rep guides you towards the pit wall to observe the action on track. Practice is getting underway, and you’re grateful for any chance to extract yourself from the oppressive Haas environment.

As you exit the garage into the sunlight, you breathe a sigh of relief. Two bodyguards fall smoothly in step behind you as you start down the paddock, taking in the buzz of activity.

You smile softly, the excitement infectious despite your general disinterest in motorsports. There’s something about the frenetic energy at a race that gets your blood pumping.

Your eyes light up as you spot the unmistakable papaya motorhome of McLaren up ahead. Now that’s a team you can get behind. Cool retro appeal and a driver line-up you’ve heard is full of young talent — what’s not to love?

You pick up your pace, eager to get a closer look at the iconic livery, when suddenly you collide headlong into a firm, muscular body.

You gasp as strong arms wrap around you, stopping your momentum abruptly. Your hands brace against a solid chest as you glance up, prepared to stammer out an apology.

But the words die on your lips as you find yourself staring into warm brown eyes set in an unfairly handsome face. The eyes widen in surprise, clearly not having expected the Crown Princess of Denmark to go careening into his arms.

His mouth opens, no doubt to ask if you’re okay, but you stand frozen as the hustle of the paddock fades into background noise.

In this moment, it’s just you and this beautiful stranger. A stranger who hasn’t let go of you yet, one hand still pressed gently against your back.

You know you should pull away, apologize for your clumsiness and be on your way. But something about his eyes makes you want to stay right here, wrapped safely in his arms.

You stand frozen, lost in the stranger’s mesmerizing brown eyes. You vaguely register your bodyguards stepping forward on either side of you.

“Your Royal Highness, are you alright?” Henrik, your lead bodyguard, asks urgently.

You blink, the spell broken as Henrik’s hand lands on your shoulder, gently tugging you back.

The stranger’s eyes widen further as understanding seems to dawn. His eyes flick over the royal crest on Henrik’s suit jacket before moving back to your face, a hint of panic in his gaze.

Before you can offer any reassurance, a voice calls out sharply from behind the man.

“Oscar! What are you doing, mate? We’ve got the strategy briefing in five!”

You watch as the man — Oscar, apparently — glances reluctantly over his shoulder to where a thin harried man bearing a McLaren team pass stands tapping his foot impatiently.

Oscar’s hands slip from your waist as he takes a small step back. “Sorry, I—”

But whatever he was going to say gets lost as the man strides forward, clapping a firm hand on Oscar’s shoulder.

“C’mon, let’s go. No time for chatting up fans when we’ve got quali coming up.”

Oscar allows himself to be steered away, casting one last, almost wistful look back at you before the brisk man hustles him around the corner.

You stare after them for a long moment before Henrik’s voice breaks through your daze once more.

“Your Highness, are you injured at all? Shall I call for a medic?”

You blink, shaking your head quickly as heat floods your cheeks. Honestly, they must think you a simpleton, standing here gaping after a man you collided with.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you assure him quickly. “Just a bit clumsy this morning it seems.”

You force out a breathy laugh, hoping your flaming cheeks can be explained away as embarrassment from your blunder.

Henrik eyes you skeptically for a moment before nodding. “Very well. But please be more careful, Your Highness. Next time we may not be so lucky.”

You nod contritely before allowing Henrik to usher you back towards the Haas garage, your other bodyguard falling smoothly back in step behind you.

As you near the garage, you spot your family gathered by the pit wall, watching as a group of track marshals examines a particularly suspicious drain cover. Your younger siblings all turn as one to look at you, eerily in sync.

The knowing looks on their faces make you shudder. Of the many curses of growing up in a big family, the inability to keep secrets ranks near the top. You’re sure they’ll have the truth out of you before long.

“Nice of you to join us, Y/N,” your younger brother Christian remarks wryly as you reach them. “Have a nice stroll?”

You resist the urge to stick your tongue out at him. Barely.

“Lovely, thank you,” you reply breezily instead, moving to stand between your mother and Isabella.

You determinedly avoid meeting any of your siblings’ gazes, focusing on the timing sheets instead. But you can feel their curious stares boring into you.

“You look a bit flushed, darling. Are you feeling quite alright?” Your mother murmurs, pressing a hand to your forehead in concern.

“Just peachy!” You chirp in response, internally cringing at the unnatural brightness in your tone.

From your other side, Isabella leans in, voice sly. “You do seem rather … distracted. Anything you want to share with the class?”

You glance at her sharply, taking in her knowing smirk. You narrow your eyes in warning, but Isabella just smiles innocently.

“Oh leave your sister be,” your mother chides. “I’m sure Y/N is just overwhelmed by the excitement of experiencing her first Grand Prix.”

You make a noncommittal noise of agreement, turning your focus back to the timing sheets. Isabella elbows you subtly and you pointedly ignore her, keeping your gaze fixed ahead.

You’re immensely thankful when the Haas PR rep appears again, ushering you towards the back to “give the team space to prepare for qualifying,” and drawing your family’s attention away from you.

You trail after your family to the cordoned off hospitality area, gratefully accepting a bottle of water from the proffered cooler.

As the mechanics spring into action around you, Isabella sidles up next to you again, playful smile still in place.

“Soooo,” she drawls, bumping your shoulder with hers. “Who’s got you all flustered then?”

You nearly choke on your water, whipping your head to face her. “What? No one! I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Even to your own ears, the denial sounds feeble. Isabella merely arches one perfect brow, clearly not buying it.

You huff out a breath, scanning the room quickly to ensure none of your other family members are in earshot before hissing under your breath. “I may have accidentally careened into a McLaren crew member during my walk.”

Isabella’s grin turns positively feline. “Oh, do tell ...”

“There’s nothing to tell!” you insist, face flaming once more. “We collided and his reflexes were quick enough to catch me before I fell. That’s all.”

“Mmhmm, I’m sure that blush is just because you’re so very embarrassed by your clumsiness and nothing else.”

You scowl and take a long swig of your water.

Isabella chuckles. “So was this mystery McLaren man at least handsome?”

You nearly choke again. “Isabella!” You admonish under your breath.

She holds up both hands innocently, still grinning. “What? It’s a perfectly reasonable question. No judgment here, promise.”

You narrow your eyes, considering her carefully. Before you can think better of it, you mutter reluctantly, “He … wasn’t entirely unfortunate looking.”

“Aha!” Isabella crows triumphantly. “I knew it!”

You shush her frantically, glancing around to make sure her outburst didn’t draw any unwanted attention.

“Do you know his name at least?” Isabella asks, slightly more quietly this time.

You hesitate before admitting, "... Oscar, I think. His colleague called him that.”

Isabella hums thoughtfully. “Very mysterious ...”

You roll your eyes, shoving her shoulder. “Oh stop it. Can we please just drop this?”

“Of course, of course,” Isabella relents, though the impish twinkle remains in her eye.

You’re prevented from further interrogation by the start of qualifying. You rejoin your family, studiously keeping your gaze away from your siblings’ knowing looks.

You determinedly put the morning’s events from your mind, focusing on Kevin’s qualifying efforts. Though you can’t help the occasional wish that the handsome stranger from McLaren — Oscar — was the one flying around the track instead.

The session proceeds fairly predictably, with the top teams claiming the top spots and the backmarkers bringing up the rear.

As Kevin pulls into the garage after qualifying 17th, you paste on an encouraging smile.

“Excellent job out there, Kevin! You and the team should be very proud.”

Kevin smiles wryly back at you. “You’re too kind, Your Highness. But I think we all know 17th is nothing to celebrate for a team with our aspirations.”

You nod sympathetically. “Of course, there’s always room for improvement. But you showed admirable pace given the circumstances.”

Kevin inclines his head gratefully at your measured response. “You have a bright future ahead as queen with such judicious words.”

You thank him sincerely for the compliment before your family takes their leave, the day’s obligations finally complete.

As you all pile into the waiting cars, Isabella leans over and whispers, “Do you think Kevin would’ve qualified higher if Haas wasn’t so slow?”

You have to smother your snort of laughter into your hand.

“Without question,” you whisper back. “I think a snail could qualify ahead of Haas at this point.”

Isabella dissolves into muffled giggles next to you as the cars pull away from the circuit, leaving the chaotic world of Formula 1 behind. At least until tomorrow.

***

You stare contemplatively out the car window as the city lights of Melbourne streak by in the darkness. Despite your family’s teasing, you can’t seem to remove a certain McLaren crew member from your thoughts.

Oscar. Even his name sends a flutter through your stomach.

You know it’s foolish to get caught up over a brief collision with a stranger. And yet … those eyes. You can’t shake the connection you felt in that moment, however fleeting.

The car slows to a stop outside your hotel and you make a split-second decision. Turning to your mother, you adopt your most winsome tone.

“Mor, I was hoping you might allow me to go out for the evening. To experience the Melbourne nightlife before we depart.”

Your mother’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Go out? Alone?”

You rush to reassure her. “Oh no, I’ll take Henrik and Simone with me of course. I would just love the chance to explore the city a bit, like a normal young woman.”

You see a flash of understanding on your mother’s face and press your advantage. “In fact, didn’t you and Far meet during a pub crawl?”

Pink stains your mother’s cheeks but her lips quirk up. “I suppose we did. But those were different times ...”

“Please Mor?” You plead. “When will I have a chance like this again?”

Your mother regards you shrewdly for a long moment before sighing. “Oh very well. But Henrik and Simone must accompany you at all times. And I want you back by midnight at the latest.”

You beam, leaning over to smack a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, thank you! I promise I’ll stay safe.”

As you exit the car, your younger brother Christian pipes up from behind you. “Hey, can I come too?”

“Absolutely not,” your mother shuts him down swiftly, leveling a quelling look at his crestfallen face.

You hide a smile as you sweep into the hotel to change, giddiness rising in your chest. A night out is just what you need to clear your head from a certain handsome distraction.

An hour later you slide into the backseat of one of the discreet royal security vehicles, now wearing jeans, heels, and a silky camisole, your long hair spilling over your shoulders.

Henrik raises his eyebrows at your outfit but doesn’t comment as he pulls away from the hotel, heading for the club district.

When you arrive, the bouncer’s eyes widen at the royal crests adorning your bodyguards’ suits. But a few quick words from Henrik and you’re granted access without a fuss.

The heavy beat of the music washes over you as you enter the fashionable club. Bright lights flash hypnotically over the crowded dance floor. You glance back at Henrik and Simone stationed near the entrance, allowing the music to carry you further inside.

You weave your way to the bar, excitement simmering in your veins. Tonight you’re just Y/N, anonymous clubgoer. No titles, no expectations, no watching eyes judging your every move.

Well, except for your bodyguards of course. But they’re discreet enough to give you space.

You’re so lost in the heady freedom of anonymity that you don’t notice the nearby figure doing a double take. But as you step up to the bar, waiting to order, a now familiar voice sounds behind you.

“Y-Your Highness!” He stammers, nearly dropping the drinks he just received. “I mean, Princess, uh Crown Princess? Sorry, I’m not actually sure—”

You whirl around to see Oscar standing there, looking devastatingly handsome in a button-down and jeans.

“Oscar!” You gasp, a smile breaking across your face unbidden. “What are you doing here?”

Pink stains Oscar’s tanned cheeks. “Ah, well my mates from the team wanted to go out and blow off some steam before the race tomorrow.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “But what brings Denmark’s future queen out to the clubs?”

You shrug lightly, grin turning impish. “Can’t a girl just want to dance and have some fun?”

Oscar’s eyes gleam with understanding. “Suppose she can. Well then, may I get you a drink … er ...”

He trails off, clearly unsure how to address you in this unusual context.

You take pity on him and lean in conspiratorially. “Tonight, I’m just Y/N. No need for fancy titles.”

Relief flashes across Oscar’s face and he smiles. “Y/N it is.”

Soon you’ve got drinks in hand and are chatting easily at a tall table beside the dance floor. Oscar is witty and charming, and laughs freely at your sarcastic commentary about Formula 1.

You’re amazed by how at ease you feel in his presence, the crown’s ever-present weight lifted from your shoulders. With Oscar, you’re not an heiress apparent, but just a girl talking to a boy she really really likes.

When he asks what you think of McLaren, you perk up eagerly. “Oh yes, what is it exactly that you do there? Are you an engineer or mechanic of some sort?”

Oscar’s eyes shutter briefly and he clears his throat. “Ah, something like that. Mostly just tinkering to try and make the car faster.”

He steers the conversation to safer waters before you can inquire further. You make a mental note to look up the full McLaren staff list later and figure out his specific role.

The night flies by in a blur of laughter and stolen glances. Oscar gamely joins you on the dance floor, his hands resting lightly on your waist as you sway together.

When at last you note the time, disappointment sinks heavy in your gut. Oscar’s face mirrors your own regret as he insists on walking you to meet your bodyguards.

Outside the club, you turn to him reluctantly. “I wish this didn’t have to end. Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

Oscar shuffles his feet, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. “Would … would you want to meet up again tomorrow? Maybe outside the McLaren garage before the race?”

Your face lights up. “I’d love that.” Overcome by boldness, you lean in and brush a feather-light kiss to his cheek.

Oscar’s hand drifts up to his cheek, eyes dazed. “Brilliant. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

You bid him goodnight before allowing Henrik and Simone to usher you into the waiting car, unable to keep the giddy smile from your face the entire ride back.

***

The next morning, you awake with a smile stretching across your face. The memory of Oscar’s brown eyes gazing into yours as you swayed together in the club fills you with warmth.

As you dress and prepare to head to the circuit, an idea strikes. There’s no rule saying you have to spend the entire pre-race hours cooped up in the Haas garage after all.

You slip into the hotel dining room, grabbing a piece of toast. “I’m afraid the petrol fumes in the garage were giving me a dreadful headache yesterday. I think I’ll take a walk around the paddock this morning for some fresh air before the race.”

Your mother’s brows furrow in concern. “Oh dear, that won’t do at all! Yes, a nice walk sounds wise.”

You thank her profusely on your way out, hiding your triumphant smile until the door closes behind you. Phase one complete.

You hold yourself back from rushing through the paddock once at the circuit, maintaining a sedate royal pace. But inside, excitement bubbles through your veins at the thought of seeing Oscar again.

As you make your way to the McLaren garage, your steps falter at the larger-than-life image emblazoned on the wall. Oscar beams back at you, brown hair just barely poking out from under his McLaren cap. The block letters beside the photo proclaim OSCAR PIASTRI #81.

You press a hand to your mouth to smother your gasp. Oscar is a driver? Your Oscar?

Speak of the devil, you spot him emerging from the garage, already dressed in fireproofs with his race suit half hanging around his waist. His face lights up when he sees you, lips curving into that boyish grin that makes your knees weak.

“Good morning!” He chirps, moving in for a brief hug.

You return the hug distractedly, still grappling with this new discovery. As you pull back, you arch a questioning brow at him.

“So … you’re a driver. Funny, I don’t recall you mentioning that last night.”

Pink stains Oscar’s cheeks and he rubs the back of his neck. “Ah, right. I may have omitted certain details about my role here.” His eyes turn pleading. “I hope you can forgive me? I just liked talking to someone who didn’t already know everything about me for once.”

You regard him thoughtfully before allowing a teasing grin to emerge. “Well, I suppose I can understand the appeal of a fresh slate. And it’s not as if I was fully forthcoming either.”

Oscar’s shoulders sag in relief. “Too right. Quite the pair we make, Princess.” His eyes dance playfully.

You open your mouth to respond but are interrupted by a shout from the garage. “Oscar! Debrief in two minutes, let’s go!”

Oscar smiles apologetically. “Duty calls. But let’s continue this later?”

At your nod, he squeezes your hand briefly before jogging back inside. You make your way back to Haas, butterflies still fluttering wildly.

Once the race starts, you have to work to restrain your enthusiasm as Oscar quickly moves up the field. More than once, you catch your lips curving upward as he deftly overtakes a competitor, and have to rearrange them into careful neutrality.

A discreet glance sideways shows your family members focused intently on Kevin’s efforts in the Haas. You allow yourself a small smile. Watching Oscar race with no one the wiser feels like getting away with something deliciously secretive.

The checkered flag finally waves after 58 intense laps. Your heart leaps as the McLaren crew begins celebrating Oscar’s podium finish. You have to force yourself not to join the applause as he climbs from his car, settling for clasping your hands tightly to contain your glee.

Meanwhile, Kevin finishes in 18th position while his teammate Nico suffered a mechanical retirement. You paste on an encouraging smile, tamping down your excitement over Oscar’s podium.

“Nice recovery there at the end, Kevin. Surely the team can build on this result in the next race.”

Privately, you think Haas would be lucky to keep a wheel attached long enough to make it to the end of a full race, let alone fight for points. But you keep that thought to yourself for now.

As your family rises to congratulate a dejected Kevin on completing the race, Isabella leans in close to whisper in your ear. “Not a great showing, I dare say. Perhaps you are considering transferring allegiance to a certain papaya team instead?”

You press your lips together to contain your smile. Trust Isabella to have guessed your conflicted loyalties.

“Indeed,” you murmur back. “One must be open to supporting all teams in the spirit of global unity.”

Isabella’s eyes dance with mirth, but she simply links her arm through yours, giving a sage nod. “Spoken like a true diplomat.”

As the celebrations kick off for Oscar’s first home race podium, you sneak glances over your shoulder, hoping for another glimpse of him through the chaos.

Someday soon, perhaps you’ll be able to cheer for him openly. For now, you hold the image of his smiling face in your mind as you reluctantly follow your family back out of the disappointing Haas garage.

If nothing else, this surprise-filled weekend has shown you that your heart will not be so easily commanded. And it seems to have rather fixated itself on a certain charismatic McLaren driver.

***

You hover near the paddock exit, half hoping to catch one last glimpse of Oscar before your departure. Your family made their polite farewells to the Haas team and you seized the opportunity to slip away.

You’ve just resigned yourself to missing him when hurried footsteps sound behind you.

“Princess! Wait up!”

You whirl around to see Oscar jogging towards you, face freshly showered but still flushed with elation. He draws up before you, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

“I’m so glad I caught you before I had to leave,” you smile brightly. “I had to come say a proper congratulations for your podium first!”

Oscar ducks his head bashfully even as his eyes shine. “And, well, I hoped maybe you were cheering me on out there today?”

Heat floods your cheeks as you let out an embarrassed laugh. “You know I can’t answer that. But I will say you drove brilliantly and I’m so pleased for your result.”

Oscar’s grin widens, clearly reading between the lines of your diplomatic answer.

“Well I’m glad I could end your weekend on a high note after the woeful introduction to Formula 1 from Haas.”

You groan good-naturedly. “Ugh yes, I think Kevin was grateful when I finally made myself scarce from that garage of doom.”

Oscar chuckles before his expression turns wistful. “I suppose this means you’ll be heading back to Denmark now though?”

You shake your head, curls spilling over your shoulders. “Oh no, we’re spending a few more weeks visiting my mother’s family in Tasmania first.”

At Oscar’s look of surprise, you elaborate, “My mother is originally Australian. Her family is from Tasmania.”

Understanding dawns on Oscar’s face. “Well how about that! Danish royalty certainly seems to have a taste for us Aussies.” He winks playfully.

Heat blooms in your cheeks but you rally to return his banter. “I suppose we do. Though from what I hear, McLaren seemed rather keen on Danes once upon a time as well.”

A rather in-depth Google search earlier that day taught you that Kevin Magnussen once raced for the papaya team. You rather wish he never left, if only so you did not have to suffer through the tedium of being in the Haas garage for the past two days.

Oscar barks out a laugh, eyes dancing with mirth. “Too right, you’ve got me there.” His laughter fades to a soft smile. “But I can’t say I blame my predecessors in the slightest.”

The tender look in his eyes makes your breath catch. Before you lose your nerve, you hurriedly dig out your phone.

“I should give you my number. So we can keep in touch.”

Oscar’s face lights up as he scrambles for his own phone. You quickly swap devices, inputting your contact info and trying not to notice how his name looks lighting up your screen.

Once you’ve traded phones again, an awkward silence descends. You clutch your phone tightly, unsure how to say goodbye when this thing between you feels so new and delicate.

Oscar clears his throat, scuffing his shoe against the pavement. “Well, I suppose I should let you get on your way ...”

“Right, yes ...” You trail off, searching for the right words. Because as silly as it sounds, the thought of not seeing Oscar’s smile for who knows how long makes your chest unexpectedly tight.

Acting on impulse, you step forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders in a hug. Oscar’s arms immediately curl around your back, clutching you close.

You breathe him in, imprinting this moment in your memory. The noise of the paddock fades away until it’s just this — the two of you suspended in time.

Far too soon, Oscar pulls back reluctantly. His eyes search your face like he’s trying to memorize it.

“Travel safely, Princess. I’ll see you soon.” His voice holds a promise.

You nod, not trusting your voice. With a final squeeze of his hand, you turn and walk steadily towards the exit. Your bodyguards fall in step behind you.

You don’t look back, though you can feel Oscar’s gaze on you until you disappear from view. As your car pulls away, you finally chance a glance backwards, just in time to see Oscar still watching wistfully after you.

Your breath escapes in a shaky exhale and you clutch your phone like a lifeline. Everywhere else suddenly feels much too far away.

***

You collapse back onto your bed, phone already pressed to your ear before the first ring even finishes. Oscar picks up on the second, voice warm and teasing as always.

“Eager today, are we Princess?”

You roll your eyes even as your lips quirk up. “Oh hush, you know you wait just as anxiously for my calls.”

Oscar’s answering chuckle makes your heart skip a beat. “Guilty. I’ll gladly admit your voice is the highlight of my day.”

Warmth floods your cheeks as you get comfortable against the pillows. “Flatterer. Now distract me from the drudgery of royal life with some F1 gossip. How go things in the glamorous world of racing?”

“Oh where to even start!” Oscar launches eagerly into the latest paddock drama — teammate clashes, contract disputes, and salacious hookups. You listen eagerly, living vicariously through his tales.

“Meanwhile Lando has been his usual chaos gremlin self ...” Oscar continues, recounting his teammate’s latest antics.

You laugh until your sides ache, picturing the outrageous scenes. “Honestly, I don’t know how McLaren copes with you two!”

“We keep things lively, that’s for sure,” Oscar agrees, audibly grinning. “Although we’d love an even livelier paddock with a certain Danish princess around again ...”

He leaves the statement hanging tentatively. You chew your lip, heart racing as you gather your courage.

“Funny you should mention that … I’ve been thinking lately that it would be nice to attend a race again soon.”

Oscar’s sharp inhale crackles through the phone. “Really? You’d come to another race?” His voice turns playful. “Any particular reason for the sudden interest?”

You laugh, hoping he can’t hear the breathlessness in it. “Oh you know, miss the atmosphere, the excitement ...” You pause before adding softly, “Getting to see a certain Aussie driver again.”

Oscar makes a pleased little noise that sends butterflies swirling wildly. “Well I’m sure that driver would be absolutely thrilled to see your face in the paddock again.”

Warmth spreads through your chest, emboldening you further. “As it happens, my godmother is the Queen of Belgium. So it should be easy enough to arrange an appearance at the Belgian Grand Prix.”

“That’s perfect!” Oscar enthuses. “Spa is one of my favorite circuits too. Say you’ll be there?”

His boyish eagerness melts your heart. “I’ll speak to our communications secretary this week. I’m sure they can make it happen.”

“Brilliant.” The tender hope in Oscar’s voice finds its mirror in your own thudding heart. A new chapter is beginning.

You chat longer about lighter topics until Oscar reluctantly says he should get some rest before practice tomorrow.

“I suppose I should let you go then ...” He trails off reluctantly, neither wanting to be the one to end the call.

You clutch the phone tighter, casting wildly for an excuse to keep him on the line. “Wait, you haven’t told me what ridiculous outfit Lando is wearing today!”

Oscar huffs out a laugh. “Trust me, words don’t do justice to the monstrosity. I’ll send pictures so you can experience it fully.”

“It’s a deal.” You know you’re only delaying the inevitable, but the thought of hanging up is unbearable.

Just then, the bedroom door crashes open and your younger brother Christian strolls in.

“Hey Y/N, Mor wants to know if … is that Oscar you’re talking to?” He raises his eyebrows knowingly.

You frantically shoo him away but Christian swoops in and plucks the phone from your hand. “Sorry mate, gotta steal my sister back. Royal duties call and all that. But great chatting, bye now!”

Before you can wrestle the phone away, Christian ends the call with a cheeky grin.

You smack his shoulder indignantly. “You little brat! I was right in the middle of important diplomatic relations!”

Christian just cackles gleefully. “Oh yeah, I could tell. Your dopey romantic sighing was a big clue.” He laughs harder at your outraged stammers.

“Just you wait until you’re madly pining over someone, I’ll get my revenge,” you threaten.

But inside, not even Christian’s teasing can diminish your euphoria. The promise of seeing Oscar again soon eclipses all else.

***

Your heels click rapidly over the pavement as you sweep through the Spa paddock gates. Bodyguards trail discreetly behind but you barely notice them, eyes scanning the bustling crowd for one face.

And then you see him. Oscar stands just ahead, back turned as he bounces on his toes, head swiveling in search of you.

Joy bubbles up in your chest. You break into a run, calling his name. “Oscar!”

He whips around, eyes lighting up when they land on you. His arms open wide and you launch yourself into them with a breathless laugh.

Strong hands grip your waist, swinging you in an enthusiastic circle before setting you back on your feet. Neither of you make any move to step back, standing tangled together.

“You came,” Oscar murmurs, voice awed like he can’t quite believe you’re real.

You lean into him, his warmth chasing away the months spent missing him. “Of course. After all, I made a promise to a certain driver.”

Oscar’s answering smile outshines the sun. Reluctantly, he loosens his hold, keeping one hand entwined with yours.

“Well then, allow me to escort you inside properly.” He presses a quick kiss to your knuckles before leading you towards the paddock entrance.

After scanning your VIP guest pass, courtesy of Oscar, you pass through security hand-in-hand, giddy smiles fixed in place.

The paddock buzzes with activity but you only have eyes for Oscar as he guides you straight to the McLaren garage.

Mechanics glance up curiously as you enter behind Oscar. He squeezes your hand, leaning in close.

“Ready to meet the team, Princess?” At your answering nod, he steers you confidently through the organized chaos.

You run a suddenly nervous hand over your hair as Oscar approaches a genial looking man conversing with a slimmer bearded man.

“Zak, Andrea — there’s someone special I want you both to meet.”

The two men turn, eyebrows raising in polite expectation. Oscar gently tugs you forward.

“This is Crown Princess Y/N of Denmark. Y/N, meet Zak Brown, our CEO, and Andrea Stella, team principal.”

Zak’s eyebrows climb higher but he recovers smoothly, extending a hand. “Your Royal Highness, welcome. We’re honored to host you in our garage.”

You return his firm handshake. “The honor is mine, thank you. Your team has been so welcoming.”

After greeting Andrea as well, Oscar steers you further inside just as a mop of fluffy brown hair zooms by.

“Oscar, mate! There you are, I’ve been ...” The words die on his lips as he spots you, mouth falling open comically. His eyes dart between you and Oscar rapidly.

“Lando, come meet the princess!” Oscar calls out cheekily.

Lando snaps his jaw shut, looking utterly bewildered but offering you a hasty bow. “Your Highness! I mean, lovely to meet you, really.”

Amusement flickers through you at his gobsmacked expression. Oscar shoots you a playful wink over Lando’s shoulder as he scrambles to regain composure.

“But, wait.” Lando glances between you again in confusion. “You mean all those times you cooed ’good morning, Princess’ over the phone … you were talking to an actual princess!”

Oscar bursts out laughing while you press a hand to your mouth to smother your own giggles. Lando flushes but eventually joins in your laughter.

After extracting a promise to explain everything later, Oscar steers you away so they can focus on final prep.

“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of during the race before I have to suit up,” he promises, getting you settled with refreshments.

The anticipation builds until finally the cars are screaming away from the grid in a blur of color. Your nails dig into your palms as positions shuffle wildly on the first lap.

But soon Oscar settles into a rhythm, battling wheel to wheel with Lewis Hamilton. You’re on your feet with every overtake, yelling yourself hoarse.

The final laps loom with Oscar still fighting for a podium finish. But suddenly disaster strikes for the leaders. Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc collide attempting to lap a backmarker on the Kemmel Straight.

You watch in disbelief as both the Red Bull and Ferrari limp to a stop off the track, clearing the path for Oscar to sweep through into the lead.

The McLaren garage roars in elation as Oscar maintains the gap and finally, finally crosses the line to claim his maiden Grand Prix win.

Chaos erupts as a stampede of papaya uniforms makes its way towards parc fermé but Oscar’s performance coach Kim grasps your arm urgently. “Quickly, he’ll want you there for this!”

Kim rushes you down towards the area where Oscar guides his car to a stop. He vaults out, pumping both fists and clambering atop the chassis in triumph.

Your breath catches at the sight of his windswept hair and exultant grin. As McLaren swarms Oscar, his gaze catches on you at the barrier, pressed close by Kim.

In two strides Oscar is right there, joy and adrenaline shining in his eyes. His hand cups your cheek … and then his lips find yours.

The roar around you fades away. For one perfect, suspended moment, your world narrows down to Oscar’s lips slanted over yours, his fingers tangled in your hair.

When you break apart, eyes flying open, the full reality crashes back in. But with Oscar’s breathless laugh warming your skin, the rest of the world no longer matters.

***

You pace the plush hotel carpet, nerves jangling as you await the imminent video call with your family. Since Oscar’s podium kiss yesterday, you’ve been hyper aware of your phone blowing up with notifications but too anxious to check them.

A brisk knock precedes your royal secretary poking his head in. “The call is ready whenever you are, Your Highness.”

Squaring your shoulders, you take a seat at the polished desk as the large monitor springs to life. Your family’s faces fill the screen, ranging from sympathetic (Isabella) to highly amused (Christian).

Before you can get a word in, the royal PR advisors elbow into view, expressions like thunderclouds.

“Your Royal Highness, might we have a word about this … incident from the race?” The chief advisor’s tone drips disapproval.

Ice trickles down your spine but you keep your face neutral. “Of course.”

“I trust you’ve seen the coverage?” At your hesitant nod, the advisor continues, “Then you understand what an embarrassment this is, how damaging to the dignity of the crown.”

You clench your jaw, anger rising. But he barrels on, “Such scandalous behavior, and broadcast globally! You must see how this recklessness reflects poorly on Denmark.”

The rest of the advisors murmur emphatic agreement. Your cheeks burn in humiliation even as you desperately blink back furious tears.

“The narrative has already spiraled out of control. Such associations cannot be tolerated from the future queen.”

The scorn in his tone ignites your temper. But before you can spit out a scathing retort, a commanding voice interrupts.

“Enough!” Your father’s stern face fills the screen, pinning the advisors with an icy glare. They recoil, mouths snapping shut.

Satisfied, your father turns to you, expression softening. “My dear, you’ve done nothing wrong. What matters most is that you’re happy.”

Hope flickers tentatively inside you as the advisors gape. But your father silences them with another quelling look.

“I know a thing or two about duty versus matters of the heart.” His eyes soften, finding your mother. “I’ll not see my daughter denied the same chance at love that brought me such joy.”

Your mother smiles gently, affection shining through the screen. On her other side, Isabella squeezes her shoulder in solidarity.

The fight drains from the advisors under your father’s resolute gaze. With a few grumbled concessions, they disconnect from the call.

Your muscles uncoil in relief as your attention returns fully to your family. Isabella waggles her eyebrows.

“Soooo … looks like someone had an eventful race!”

Heat floods your cheeks but you can’t suppress a giddy smile. “It just sort of happened in the heat of the moment.”

“This Oscar must be something special,” your mother remarks kindly.

Your insides turn to mush at the memory of Oscar’s kiss. “He really is. I can’t explain it, but it feels … right with him.”

Your normally stoic mother looks touched. “Then he has my blessing.”

On her other side, Christian smirks. “Yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re in looooove.” He exaggerates a swoon, cackling when you stick your tongue out at him.

“Hush dear, let your sister be happy,” your mother chides, swatting his shoulder before smiling indulgently. “Reminds me of another young prince long ago, besotted with an Australian girl ...”

Your father laughs, eyes crinkling. “Too right, darling. Clearly our Y/N takes after me.” He winks at you. “We Danes do seem to have a weakness for Aussies.”

You groan good-naturedly at the gentle teasing, buoyed by your family’s support. With their love behind you, the rest no longer matters.

You conclude the call with hugs blown through the screen and a heart full to bursting. No matter what the coming days hold, you won’t be facing them alone.

Later, a hesitant knock interrupts your contented musings. You open the door to find Oscar, eyebrows pinched anxiously.

But at the sight of your radiant smile, the tension melts from his frame. His hands settle comfortably on your waist like coming home.

“So ...” he begins, nose scrunching up adorably, “Think your family will let you keep me around?”

You answer by pulling him down into a long, sweet kiss. When you finally separate, foreheads pressed together, Oscar sighs out, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Your answering laugh fills the space between you as he lifts you effortlessly into a spinning embrace. The setting sun gilds the hotel room in amber, basking you both in warmth and promise.

Let the world say what they will. You’ve made your choice, the only one your heart would allow. And with Oscar’s arms encircling you now, you know you’re right where you belong.

***

“Come on, it’ll be great! When’s the next chance you’ll get to come down under?”

Oscar’s pleading face fills your laptop screen, bottom lip poking out beseechingly. You try to stand firm, but your resolve is crumbling.

“I don’t know … won’t I be imposing on your family time?”

Oscar waves a hand breezily. “Nah, Mum and Dad have been hassling me nonstop to bring you for a visit. Trust me, they’ll smother you with Aussie hospitality.”

You chew your lip thoughtfully. A trip together does sound tempting. And you’re endlessly curious to see where Oscar grew up.

Sensing your wavering, Oscar presses his advantage. “There’s so much I want to show you! The beach I learned to surf at, my favorite cafes and shops ...”

His voice turns coaxing. “And just think, falling asleep under the southern stars ...”

Your heart flutters traitorously. Oscar knows your weakness for astronomy. With a defeated huff, you nod.

“Oh alright, you’ve convinced me. I’ll see if I can clear my schedule for next month.”

Oscar whoops, pumping a victorious fist. “Yes! You’re gonna love it, I promise.”

The rest of the call passes in eager planning until Oscar reluctantly disconnects to start his day. As the screen goes dark, butterflies swell in your stomach. A whole trip together!

The weeks crawl by agonizingly until finally you’re boarding the royal jet bound for Melbourne, giddiness rising with each mile.

Oscar is waiting when you deplane, sweeping you up joyfully the second your feet hit the tarmac. You cling to him, breathing in the scent of home you’ve missed so much.

As the hug extends well past proper etiquette, your bodyguard Henrik pointedly clears his throat. You spring apart, blushing when you meet his knowing gaze.

Oscar just grins unrepentantly, grabbing your hand to lead you towards where his parents are waiting.

You spot them immediately — Oscar’s smile mirrored on his mother’s face and his kind eyes reflected in his father’s crinkled gaze. They hurry over, clasping your hands warmly.

“Your Royal Highness, we’re so honored to finally meet you!” His mother gushes. “Oscar’s told us so much, I feel as if we know you already.”

You smile, charmed by her easy manner. “The honor is mine, Mrs. Piastri. Please, call me Y/N.”

She pats your hand merrily. “Of course, dear! And you must call me Nicole. Now come, let’s get you home and settled.”

The ride to Oscar’s childhood home passes quickly, filled with lively conversation. His parents’ sweet banter reminds you so much of your own.

When you arrive, Nicole loops her arm through yours, bustling you inside. “We’ve freshened up Oscar’s old room for you, I do hope it’s comfortable.”

You take in the posters of racing legends and cricketers adorning the walls, the cluttered bookshelves full of well-loved texts. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

“Excellent!” Nicole claps her hands. “Now, you two get settled. Dinner will be ready shortly.”

She disappears down the hall with a parting wink that makes Oscar flush beet red. You stifle a laugh and let him tug you further inside.

Dinner passes in a blur of delicious food and easy laughter. Chris’ eyes twinkle knowingly as he refills your wine.

“We’re just delighted to finally meet the girl who’s made our Oscar so happy.”

Oscar covers his face in exaggerated mortification, but his fingers squeeze yours under the table. You lift your joined hands to brush a kiss over his knuckles when his parents aren’t looking.

The peaceful mood continues as Nicole breaks out photo albums. You coo over baby pictures of Oscar, smothering laughter at his gap-toothed grin and wild hair.

Yawns eventually take over and everyone reluctantly shuffles off to bed. In Oscar’s room, you borrow his old karting club shirt to sleep in.

Oscar looks up from turning down the duvet, eyes darkening as he takes you in. “This was a terrible idea, you looking so cute in my clothes.”

You giggle and kiss the tip of his nose before climbing into bed and patting the space next to you. Oscar obliges, pulling you close and nuzzling into your hair.

Outside the window, the infinity of the southern skies beckons. But here in Oscar’s arms, you have everything you need.

Oscar hums contentedly, dropping a kiss to your hair as your eyes drift closed.

“Sweet dreams, my princess,” he whispers. You float off cradled in his warmth, perfectly at peace.

The rest of the trip passes in blissful domesticity — lazy beach days, intimate dinners, long talks under the stars. Meeting Oscar’s family feels like coming to a second home.

On your last night, you creep outside to sit curled against him on the back porch, committing every detail to memory.

“I don’t want this to end,” you whisper into the quiet night.

Oscar presses a lingering kiss below your ear. “It’s only the start for us.”

And basking in his touch, the infinite potential of the future unfolding before you, you know he’s right. This is just the beginning.

***

You smooth your hands over your dress, peering anxiously out the palace window overlooking the winding driveway. Any moment now, the car bringing Oscar should pull through the gates.

It’s his first time visiting the palace and meeting your family officially as your boyfriend. You know they’ll love him, but nerves still flutter in your chest.

The crunch of tires on gravel draws your gaze back outside. You watch Oscar emerge from the car, craning his head back to take in the towering palace facade.

Unable to wait any longer, you gather your skirts and hurry downstairs just as he steps inside the grand entryway.

Oscar turns at the click of your heels, face melting into a smile. In a few quick strides, he sweeps you into his arms, spinning you joyfully.

You cling to him, breathing in the soothing scent of home you’ve missed. When he sets you down, hands come up to frame your face tenderly, thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“There’s my beautiful girl. I’ve missed you so much, Princess.”

Heart swelling, you lean in to capture his lips in a kiss that conveys weeks of longing. Oscar responds urgently, fingers tangling in your hair to keep you close.

A pointed cough interrupts your reunion. You pull back to see your brother Christian smirking knowingly.

“Well now I see why you were so eager for Oscar’s visit. Should I come back later?”

You stick your tongue out at him even as a blush stains your cheeks. Taking Oscar’s hand, you lead him towards the family wing.

“Come on, everyone’s excited to finally meet you properly.”

Voices carry from the dining room as you approach. Inside, your family looks up, faces alight with warmth and curiosity.

Your father strides forward first, clasping Oscar’s hand firmly. “Oscar, welcome. We’re delighted to have you here.”

Oscar returns the handshake graciously. “The honor is mine, Your Majesty. Thank you for the invitation.”

More greetings follow before your mother guides everyone to the table. Oscar pulls out your chair, pressing a discreet kiss to your temple as you sit. Happiness bubbles up inside at having him here with your family.

Dinner passes enjoyably, conversation flowing. Oscar charms them all effortlessly with his quick wit and humor. Laughter fills the room, the atmosphere light and intimate.

With dessert finished, your siblings seize their chance to grill Oscar playfully.

“Sooo tell us,” Isabella begins, propping her chin on her hands. “What exactly are your intentions with our dear sister?”

Oscar just grins, unfazed. “Why, to make her happy every single day, of course.”

You melt at his simple sincerity, grasping his hand under the table.

“Good answer!” Christian crows. “But know if you ever hurt her, you’ll have the entire Danish army to answer to.”

Despite his teasing tone, you know Christian means every word. Oscar inclines his head solemnly.

“You have my word such a day will never come. Her happiness means everything to me.”

Your siblings appear satisfied, moving on to pepper Oscar with questions about his career and interests. He takes their antics in stride, witty comebacks drawing fond laughter from your parents.

The relaxed family atmosphere reminds you so much of that first dinner at Oscar’s childhood home. Your heart swells with quiet joy at how seamlessly he fits here too.

Eventually Oscar politely extracts you both, citing early flights in the morning. Alone in the hall, he sags against the wall in exaggerated relief.

“Whew, your family is something else! I think that interrogation was more intense than any press conference.”

You laugh and swat his shoulder before lifting on your toes to kiss him sweetly. “You were wonderful. I’m so happy you’re here.”

Oscar’s eyes soften. “Me too, Princess. Being here with you feels like home.”

Heedless of any lingering eyes, you kiss him again under the twinkling chandelier.

A loud retching sound interrupts you. “Ugh, get a room you two!” Christian complains, dodging your swat.

Oscar just tugs you closer with a chuckle. “Don’t worry mate, I plan to.”

He silences Christian’s protests with another searing kiss. And surrounded by Oscar’s warmth, you can’t bring yourself to care who sees.

***

Moonlight filters through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft glow. You lay curled against Oscar’s chest, fingers tracing idle patterns over his heart.

The steady rhythm soothes you, but your own heart feels anything but calm. There’s something you need to discuss, but nerves stall your tongue.

Sensing your tension, Oscar’s hand comes up to sift gently through your hair. “Penny for your thoughts, love?”

You lean into his touch, gathering courage. “I was just thinking about the future. Our future.” You twist to meet his gaze. “I know it’s still early days for us, but if this continues to get more serious ...”

You trail off uncertainly, but Oscar’s eyes are warm with encouragement. Bolstered, you continue.

“There are certain expectations that come with being attached to the heir to the throne. Traditions and duties to learn.”

You watch Oscar’s face closely, but he simply nods thoughtfully. “Of course, that makes sense. I’m happy to learn whatever I need to.”

Relief trickles through you. You prop yourself up on one elbow, smiling softly down at him.

“For example, even before my mother was engaged to my father, she decided to learn Danish. The protocol and duties, the public role … it was a massive life change.”

You take a bracing breath. “I don’t expect you to make such changes overnight. But someday, if this continues on the path we hope ...”

You trail off meaningfully. Oscar’s hand comes up to cradle your face. “Hey, if being with you means learning Danish, or attending stuffy banquets, or anything else, I’m in this 100%.”

His eyes bore into yours. “I’ll do whatever it takes to build a life together.”

Emotion clogs your throat. You have to swallow thickly before responding. “Well, maybe we start small then. How about I teach you a few phrases?”

Oscar grins, pulling you back down against him. “Ja, det lyder perfekt.”

You jerk back in surprise, swatting his chest. “You brat, have you been practicing without telling me?”

Oscar’s eyes dance with laughter. “Maybe just a few key phrases. Wanted to surprise you.”

His smile turns tender. “I’d love nothing more than for you to teach me, sweetheart.”

Happiness bubbles up inside you. You snuggle closer, thinking. “Alright, let’s start simple. Like hej simply means hello.”

Oscar repeats the phrase dutifully, brow furrowing in concentration. You cover his hand with yours.

“Jeg elsker dig,” you murmur, gazing into his eyes.

“Jeg elsker dig,” Oscar echoes. “What does it mean?”

Sudden shyness has you ducking your head. “It means I love you.”

Oscar’s sharp inhale lifts your head. He grasps both of your hands, staring deeply into your eyes.

“Jeg elsker dig,” he repeats reverently.

Emotion clogs your throat. You lean in, whispering against his lips, “Jeg elsker dig, Oscar.”

The kiss starts soft and unhurried, a confirmation of feelings conveyed best without words. Oscar’s arms wrap securely around you as the kiss deepens, pouring every ounce of love and promise into it.

When you eventually break apart, Oscar keeps you cradled close, dropping kisses into your hair. “What else can you teach me?”

Happiness bubbles up at his tentative Danish endearment. You settle back against him, whispering translations as his steady heartbeat lulls you towards sleep.

But too soon, Oscar is reluctantly packing to leave, both clinging to these last private hours before he has to set off for the next race.

You wind yourself around him, unwilling to let go. Oscar holds you close, murmuring promises of next visits and calls into your hair.

As you finally part at the airport, his whispered “jeg elsker dig” warms you from the inside out. No matter the miles between you, your hearts remain entwined.

***

You adjust the diamond clips in your elegantly twisted updo, scanning your reflection critically. The deep blue gown hugs your frame perfectly, but nerves still flutter in your stomach.

Because tonight, Oscar will be attending his first official function as your partner — a lavish gala in honor of the new children’s hospital bearing your mother’s name.

A knock precedes Oscar peeking his head in, hands clapped over his eyes. “Safe to look?”

You smooth your skirt with a shaky exhale. “Yes, come in.”

Oscar drops his hands, mouth falling open. “Wow. You look absolutely stunning tonight, my love.”

He takes your hands, eyes roving appreciatively over you. “Going to have to beat all the envious blokes away with a stick.”

You laugh, swatting his shoulder lightly. “Oh hush. You look rather dashing yourself, Mr. Piastri.”

And he does in his impeccably tailored tuxedo, hair swept back neatly. You brush a piece of imaginary lint from his lapel, nerves melting away under his warm gaze.

“Shall we?” He offers his arm gallantly. You lay your hand atop it, spine straightening.

“We shall.”

The ballroom glitters under fairy lights as you make your entrance, immediately garnering interested looks and murmurs. On your arm, Oscar draws admiring glances of his own with his rakish good looks and easy confidence.

You greet various dignitaries and philanthropists, Oscar a steady, charming presence at your side. As you speak with the hospital’s key figures, his hand at the small of your back anchors you.

But as the speeches drag on, Oscar leans in subtly. “Is it terrible I’m already bored senseless? I’d rather actually meet these kids we’re meant to be helping.”

You hide a smile behind your wine glass. The same restlessness plagues you as schmoozing patrons preen and prattle.

As dessert wraps up, an idea strikes you. You catch Oscar’s eye, tilting your head meaningfully at a side exit before excusing yourself discretely.

Understanding dawns on his face and he trails casually after you. In the entry hall, you hurry to a secluded alcove, grabbing his hand.

“Quick, while we won’t be missed. Let’s actually go see the children.”

Excitement flashes across Oscar’s face. “Brilliant thinking. Lead the way, Princess.”

Adrenaline courses through you as you sneak out to the waiting car, bodyguards eyeing you curiously.

“Rigshospitalet, please. Quickly.”

At the children’s hospital, you sweep inside, Oscar at your heels. The receptionist gapes as you approach.

“So sorry to drop by unannounced. We were hoping there might be a chance for us to visit with some of the patients?”

The receptionist’s mouth opens and closes before she stutters, “O-of course, Your Highness, right away!” Clearly your boldness has paid off.

You exchange exhilarated looks with Oscar as she pages a nurse to escort you up. On the cheery pediatric ward, you peek into rooms, greeting curious families.

At one doorway, a gasp stops you short. A little girl sits up in bed, pointing.

“Mama, it’s the princess! And her boyfriend!”

You glance at Oscar to find him rubbing his neck bashfully. Clearly his fame extends beyond the F1 sphere here.

You laugh and enter slowly. “We were hoping we might visit you, if that’s alright?”

The girl — Else — nods eagerly, blond braids bouncing. Her mother rises to curtsy but you wave her off kindly as Oscar produces a small plush racecar from his pocket, to Else’s delight.

As you chat and play with Else, joy lights up her face. For a short time, she’s just a normal girl again. Your chest aches at her bright spirit despite her poor health.

All too soon, a nurse taps her watch. As you make your goodbyes, Else throws her thin arms around your waist.

“Thank you! This was like a fairytale.” Over her head, her mother mouths a tearful thank you of her own.

You hug Else gently before kneeling down. “It was our honor. You stay strong, little one.”

Her returning whisper warms your heart. “Don’t worry, I will!”

Similar scenes play out in room after room. Your cheeks ache from smiling but it’s a welcome ache. The children’s awed joy makes the real reason for tonight crystal clear.

Watching Oscar kneel patiently as a shy boy shows him a prized toy car, your heart clenches with love. Catching your gaze, Oscar’s eyes mirror the same emotion.

Far too soon, your bodyguards notify you it’s time to return before your absence draws notice. A chorus of disappointed groans follows you out.

Back at the gala, you slip in just in time for closing toasts. No one seems the wiser about your little detour.

Under the table, Oscar squeezes your hand. The contact says it all — this is what truly matters. Not accolades or commendations, but joy brought to hurting hearts.

You know you’ll be back. Both of you. Not for galas or acclaim, but for the chance to see young faces light up, if only for a moment.

Late that night, you slow dance alone in the empty ballroom, music and laughter faded. Oscar’s arms circle you from behind, chin tucking onto your shoulder.

“I think tonight was the most important royal function I’ve ever attended,” he murmurs.

You cover his hands with yours, leaning back into him with a contented sigh. No more words need be said.

The rest of the world may see events like tonight as social currency and networking. But you hold the truth in your heart — the only currency that counts can’t be bought, only given freely through love.

***

Two Years Later

You smooth your hands over your dress, pulse thrumming as you await the imminent news conference. Just hours ago, the palace formally announced your engagement to Oscar, sending the public into a frenzy.

Now, you’re about to face the media together for the first time as an engaged couple. Press stands crowd the palace gardens, cameras poised and ready.

At your side, Oscar seems calm and collected, fingers threaded loosely with yours. But you sense the storm brewing beneath his tranquil surface.

You reach up and gently adjust his suit collar, fingers lingering on the lapels as you meet his eyes. He gives you a small, grateful smile before you both turn to face the expectant crowd.

Because today also brings another announcement — one that will upend Oscar’s world irreversibly.

Your father steps forward first to formally confirm the engagement and expound on Oscar’s character. As he returns to your side, Oscar squeezes your hand and you nod in encouragement.

Oscar clears his throat, stepping closer to the microphones. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Y/N and I are over the moon at the chance to spend our lives together.”

He gazes at you softly before continuing. “I’m truly the luckiest man in the world to have won the heart of Denmark’s lovely princess.”

You have to resist the urge to kiss him senseless then and there. Cameras flash brightly as Oscar details your romantic (and heavily abridged) love story, punctuated with charming wit.

But gradually, his mirth fades. With another fortifying hand squeeze, he steels himself for the harder part.

“While I’m elated at this new chapter ahead, it also brings difficult changes. I’m announcing my retirement from Formula 1 following this season’s conclusion.”

Murmurs ripple through the crowd. Oscar’s grip tightens as he pushes forward.

“As a member of the royal family, I will no longer be able to continue racing competitively. I am grateful to have achieved my dream this year of winning the championship.”

His voice falters briefly and your heart clenches. Racing is Oscar’s passion — having to walk away is unimaginably hard.

Oscar visibly gathers himself. “But as difficult as this is, marrying Y/N is worth any sacrifice. She is my true dream now.”

He turns to you then, eyes glistening. “The honor of being your husband eclipses any trophy or medal. You are my greatest victory.”

Emotion clogs your throat and without thinking, you wrap him in a fierce embrace. The rules of propriety fade away, only your pride and love for Oscar remain.

His arms clutch you close as flashes erupt around you. But in this moment, you see only each other.

Eventually you separate and Oscar takes your hand once more, gracing you with a tender smile. He turns back to the microphones for one last address.

“Til Danmark og det danske folk. Jeg lover at tjene jer med ære, respekt og kærlighed.”

The Danish press reacts first, visibly surprised and impressed at Oscar’s speech in their native tongue.

You blink back a fresh wave of tears at his poignant promise — to serve Denmark with honor, respect, and love.

Overcome with emotion, you step forward to the microphones as well.

“Oscar’s love for me and Denmark is clear to all who meet him. I am truly blessed to have found such a selfless, caring partner.”

Your voice wavers with feeling. “Though it grieves me to see his racing career ended prematurely, I could not be more proud of the man he is.”

You reach for Oscar’s hand, gazing at him through tear-filled eyes. “He gives up much out of love for me. I only hope I can bring him a fraction of the joy in return.”

Oscar’s fingers tighten around yours, eyes shining with affection. Cameras flash furiously at your raw display of love and emotion.

But you remain lost in Oscar’s eyes, the rest of the world fading away. In this moment, all that matters is your shared devotion and the bright future stretching before you.

Questions start flying from the excited press corps but Oscar politely extracts you both, ceding the floor to the waiting palace officials.

Alone inside once more, Oscar sags against the wall in clear emotional exhaustion. You wrap him in your arms, heart aching for the pain this transition causes.

Oscar clings to you tightly, face pressed into your hair. “I meant every word,” he whispers fiercely. “You are my whole world now.”

You draw back just far enough to meet his eyes, hoping he can see the depths of your love reflected there.

“I know, min kæreste. We’ll face this new future together.”

The answering kiss speaks what words cannot. No matter what comes, your love remains constant.

A new path lies ahead now, one you will walk hand in hand, till the end of your days.

***

Five Years Later

The roar of engines draws nearer as your car nears the Copenhagen street circuit. In the seat beside you, Oscar bounces his leg restlessly, face alight with anticipation.

In the backseat, your three-year-old daughter, Margrethe (affectionately called Maise for short), mimics her father’s excitement, chattering cheerfully about anything and everything.

You reach over to still Oscar’s jostling knee, smiling indulgently. “Easy there, we’ve barely arrived and you’re already wound up.”

Oscar shoots you a boyish grin. “Can you blame me? It’s been so long since I was last in the paddock. Feels like a lifetime ago.”

Your heart swells with quiet awe once more at the sacrifices Oscar has made for your future together. While racing still runs through his veins, his duties as Crown Prince of Denmark now take precedence.

But today offers a joyous reunion, with Oscar instrumental in bringing Formula 1 racing back to Danish soil for the first time since 1962.

As the car pulls through the paddock entrance, Oscar cranes his neck eagerly, drinking in the familiar organized chaos. Before the door even opens, you hear a familiar voice shouting.

“He lives! The prodigal prince returns!” A blur of McLaren papaya hurtles towards Oscar as he steps out.

Oscar just manages to brace himself before Lando Norris tackles him in an exuberant hug. Laughter bubbles out of Oscar as he returns the embrace.

“Good to see you too, mate. It’s been way too long.”

You round the car to find Oscar’s former team already swarming him, clapping his back and jostling each other good-naturedly to greet their long-lost driver.

Oscar’s eyes shine as he falls back into easy banter, trading inside jokes and reminiscing. With Maise balanced on your hip, you hang back contentedly, letting Oscar have this moment.

As the reunion finally winds down, Lando gestures to you and Maise. “And who do we have here? Don’t tell me this little beauty is your daughter?”

Oscar beams, waving you both over. “She is indeed! Lando, meet my little girl.”

Lando pretends to stagger back in shock. “No way, our little Oscar is all grown up and domesticated now!”

Oscar shoves him playfully before sweeping Maise into his arms. “What can I say, my fast living days are behind me now.” He kisses Maise’s wavy hair, eyes finding yours. “I’ve got all I need right here.”

Your insides turn mushy at the adoration in his voice. The years have only deepened your love further.

More drivers trickle over to greet Oscar, ribbing him good-naturedly about his new royal status. But the obvious affection underlying the teasing is clear.

Zak Brown claps Oscar on the back. “It’s so good to have you back, even just for a day. You and your family should stay, watch the race from the garage!”

For a fleeting moment, naked longing flashes across Oscar’s face at the thought of experiencing race day excitement again up close.

But reality settles back in quickly, his expression turning regretful. “That’s a lovely offer, truly. But I’m afraid we’ll have to make our way to the royal box.”

He bounces Maise gently, tone wry. “Some of us have a job to do handing out trophies later.” Maise giggles and tugs at his ear happily, blissfully unaware of the wistfulness simmering beneath her father’s smile.

You slip your arm through Oscar’s, offering a comforting squeeze. His answering smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

After more fond farewells, you exit the nostalgic bubble of the garage. Oscar pauses, taking a moment to just breathe and gather himself.

You shift Maise to your other hip, wrapping your free arm around his waist. Oscar leans into you gratefully, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Can’t believe it’s been five years already,” he murmurs. “Feels like another lifetime.”

You smile up at him sadly. “I know, my love. But look at everything you’ve accomplished for Denmark in that time. This race wouldn’t even be happening without you.”

Oscar huffs a small laugh. “Too right. Who needs driving when I’ve got you two anyway?”

He tickles Maise playfully, eliciting delighted giggles. The melancholy edge has left his eyes now, replaced by contentment.

Hand in hand, with Maise toddling happily between you, the three of you set off together towards the royal box. The Danish Grand Prix awaits, along with the bright future you continue building as a family.

This may no longer be Oscar’s world, but he now shapes the path for future generations of drivers. After the race, as Oscar graciously awards the beaming winner while Maise excitedly cheers from the side of the podium, you know this is precisely where he’s meant to be.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri #op81 #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #oscar piastri x female reader #oscar piastri x y/n #mclaren #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri drabble

[harrysfolklore]

30th birthday

i just can’t believe harry is 30 and this is my way to cope, i hope you like this 🥲

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The calendar marked February 1st as the date, which meant that it was finally Harry's 30th birthday.

You woke up earlier than him, in order to make him his special birthday breakfast that was a tradition by now, and as you stood alone in the cooking in the kitchen, you couldn't help but reminisce about all the previous birthdays you've celebrated with Harry.

From celebrating his birthday at a restaurant with his brand new band mates and friends after a day of The X Factor rehearsals, having big parties thrown for him with celebrities in attendance, flying off to Japan to celebrate there and throwing a concert to spend his special day with his fans, you couldn't believe Harry was turning 30 and you were able to grow up by his side.

"Love, where are you?" his raspy morning voice made its way to your ears, and you couldn't help but smile.

"Over here, in the kitchen!"

You turned around to see Harry stumbling into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes sleepily. His hair was tousled, and he was wearing an oversized t-shirt that you recognized as one of your favorites.

"Morning, birthday boy," you greeted him, leaning in to give him a soft kiss.

"Morning," he replied, his eyes still half-closed. "What's all this?" Harry gestured towards the spread of pancakes, eggs, and bacon you had prepared on the table.

"It's your special birthday breakfast, as always," you pecked his lips again.

"You know, you could've woken me up with a 30 minute long blowj-"

"Harry!" you cut him off before he could finish his sentence, "Every single year, you say the same thing! When will you stop being a menace."

"Can you blame me?" Harry shrugged, "You still look as hot as you did when we first met fourteen years ago."

"Fourteen, huh?" you said, tilting your head, "How does it feel to not be a twenty something anymore? You're basically an old man now."

"I feel good, honestly," he said sincerely, his eyes locking with yours, "I mean, I'm happy and healthy, I have the job of my dreams, a family that loves me, supporting friends and the best girlfriend in the world, I'm a very lucky old man."

"You're too cute," you kissed him again, "Now eat your breakfast, we have a lot of celebrations to do today."

The day went by smoothly, Harry answered a couple of calls and texts from friends and family and you spent the afternoon cuddling up before it was time for his birthday dinner.

Harry wanted something small and intimate, with just a handful of close friends and family invited, so you decided to host the birthday dinner at your home. As the evening approached, the house was filled with the delicious aroma of the special dinner you had prepared for him.

Jeff and Glenne were the first ones to arrive, carrying a homemade cake that Glenne insisted she had baked all morning. Sarah and Mitch came next with their baby boy who giggled and clapped as Harry made silly faces, clearly enjoying the attention from the famous Cool Harry, because he refused to be called uncle.

"Damn mate, I can't believe you're 30 now," Jeff said, wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulders, "I still remember when you were twenty and my parents basically adopted you, I feel so old."

"You feel old? Imagine how I feel, that's my baby brother!" Gemma chimed in, entering your house with her boyfriend Michal and Anne, "Happy birthday, H."

"Thanks, Gem," Harry smiled, hugging his sister tightly. "And thanks for reminding everyone that I'm officially old now."

As more friends and family arrived, the laughter and chatter of loved ones filled the air, the dining table was adorned with candles, flowers, and a beautifully set dinner that everyone enjoyed.

Once your bellies were full, Mitch opened the champagne bottle Harry Lambert brought with him, filling everyone's glasses to make a toast.

"Alright, everyone, gather around," Mitch announced, holding up his glass, "To Harry, on his 30th birthday, may this year be filled with even more success and love. Cheers."

Everyone clicked their glasses, smiles on everyone's faces.

"I think the missus should give a speech!" Gemma teased, pointing at you.

"Not a missus yet, still no ring," you teased back, raising an eyebrow at Harry and hearing the whistles from his friends.

"Well, uh, maybe we'll have to do something about that soon." Harry chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head.

The room erupted in laughter and even more whistles, and you couldn't help but blush and roll your eyes with affection.

"Alright, alright," you began, holding up your glass, "Here's to the man of the hour. Harry, you've filled my life with so much joy, laughter, and love all these years. It's been an incredible journey growing up with you, I still remember when we were just kids, celebrating your 16th birthday before you became the star that you are today, I'm so proud of you and living life by your side has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. Happy 30th birthday, my love. May this year bring you everything you desire."

Harry couldn't help but melt at your words, standing up and hugging you tightly and kissing your lips.

"Thank you, everyone," Harry began, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia, "I can't believe I'm standing here, celebrating my 30th birthday. It feels like just yesterday I was a wide-eyed 16-year-old auditioning for The X Factor, not knowing what life had in store for me," he paused, glancing at each person in the room with watery eyes, "But here I am, and I couldn't be more grateful for each and every one of you. To my family, who has been there from the start, and to my friends who have become family. And to this incredible woman right here," Harry said, placing his hand on your waist, "who has been with me since I was I was an annoying teenager, growing up by my side."

"You're still as annoying as a teenager," Jeff interrupted him, making the entire room laugh, "But we love you, mate. And we're grateful for you."

As the night continued, the homemade cake adorned with candles was brought out, and everyone in the room sag "Happy Birthday" together, Harry made a wish and blew out the candles, surrounded by the people he loved the most.

After the cake-cutting and more chatter, everyone decided to call it a night and head home, leaving you and Harry at me comfort of your house.

"Thank you for everything," Harry whispered, wrapping his arms around you.

"It's your day, love. I'm just happy I could make it special for you," you replied, resting your head against his shoulder.

"You always make every day special," he murmured, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You stood wrapped around each other for a few minutes, enjoying the final moments of his birthday.

"This has been one of my favorite birthdays ever," Harry admitted, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I'm glad you think so," you smiled, snuggling closer. "And, by the way, the 'no ring yet' comment earlier, totally just teasing."

"Oh, really? Because I was serious, maybe it's time," Harry smirked, giving you a playful look.

"Don't tell me you're about to propose, not on your own birthday, Harry!" you said nervously.

"Not right now love, but soon enough," he winked and you let out the breath you were holding, "I love you."

"I love you more, Harry. Happy birthday."

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles fake social media #harry styles story #harrysfolklore #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles brithday #1k

[sttm99]

Bakugo understands that he spends a lot of money on you for just being his personal assistant. But he can't help it.

You honestly deserve it. You're smart, responsible, diligent. You're a hard worker with principles, and your work ethic is something he respects.

It didn't matter how many people were against him promoting you from secretary to PA so soon in your career. Your work was top notch, and you kept him organised.

Sure, you were pretty as well, a sight for sore eyes, really. But that wasn't his fault, was it? It wasn't your fault either.

It's not like you came into work every day with full glam, diamond earrings, or elaborate hairstyles.

It had pissed him off at first, when people demeaned you or underestimated your work because of your looks, especially when he knew you worked so hard so you wouldn't be considered some dumb corporate bimbo.

But now? Now he loved it. He loved when he had clients over, and they'd do a double take when he sent for you to take notes or deliver documents to his table.

He'd noticed the modesty with which you'd dressed when you first started working for him, how you tried to dim yourself with drab colours that obviously washed you out, or plain hairstyles.

Not like it stopped anybody from being able to tell how pretty you were.

But after, when you'd started garnering his attention and racking up more bonuses from your diligence, he began noticing you wearing nicer things.

Of course, you had to up your wardrobe once you were promoted to the role of Personal Assistant to one of the biggest heroes in Japan. But that wasn't it.

Bakugo loved seeing you walk in with a new shirt or new shoes or new earrings after he'd rewarded you a bonus or a pay increase. There was a sort of high he got, knowing that you took care of yourself with the money he gave you.

Oh, he spoilt you rotten.

Month end rewards became the norm for you. He just closed a hefty advertising deal? Best believe you were getting a cut out of that. He was given a bottle of champagne as a gift? You're drinking it with him in his office.

Sure, it may have seemed a bit inappropriate to some people; him locking the doors and closing the windows, and having you sit on his lap prettily whilst he poured it out into a flute for you.

Sure, it was inappropriate for him to have his hands up your skirt as you recounted the month end figures for him, but you were comfortable that way. He was, too. Oh, so comfortable with your hands inside his trousers and his teasing at the lining of your panties.

He was just taking care of his best employee.

And maybe he did spend a lot of money on you, but you had to keep up appearances. He needed you looking your best when you were next to him.

It wasn't his fault you were so beautiful that brands reached out to him to get you to model for then after seeing you appear in some pictures by his side.

It wasn't his fault that he couldn't get anyone else to come with him to the Hero Gala. Besides, you're meant to be with him during these things to take notes for him. So having you as his date was basically killing two birds with one stone.

"Your assistant's fucking sexy," Kaminari whispered into Bakugo's ear, both of them watching you go to order a drink for your boss.

Bakugo smirked to himself, his eyes raking over your body, clad in the tight fitting dress he'd bought for you to wear. He'd also bought the earrings you had on, and the shoes and the necklace. Sure, it cost him quite a lot, but he just couldn't help it when you looked so good.

"She's single, isn't she?"

Now, that had him snapping his head in Kaminari's direction. "Don't even fucking think about."

Kaminari whined, "But why? She's your assistant, not your sister or your girlfriend."

"She's my assistant," Bakugo seethed, standing up from his seat. "She's my employee, and I won't have you lowering her efficiency." He murmured as he made his way to where you were.

You smiled brightly as you turned around to see him, handing him the second glass of champagne in your hands. "You look like you'd rather be somewhere else." You laughed softly.

He grinned down at you before downing the drink quickly. "I would," he said before dropping his glass back on the bar. "Come on."

He spoilt you rotten, but he couldn't help it. You looked so beautiful in your tight dress and pretty hair and beautiful face.

Sure, being seated on the sink and having your legs spread before his lips in the bathroom at the Hero Gala may have been a tad inappropriate, but how could he stop himself?

You were quivering for him, thighs pressing down and shaking on either side of his head, and your fingers gripping harshly at his hair, pulling him even closer as you rutted your heat against his lips.

He let out a desperate groan, burying his face deeper into your cunt, eating you out shamelessly, hungrily.

"Fuuck..." He growled into you.

You'd been so shy the first time he had his way with you, refusing to touch him, grind on him, behaving so meek and cute.

Now look at you, so selfish and desperate, almost suffocating him as he feasted. He spoilt you rotten, sure, but you deserved every morsel of it.

"Katsuki..." You whined desperately, your back arching off the mirror, the hand not pulling at his hair tightly gripping the edge of the counter. "Katsuki, I'm so close... I'm so fucking close, baby-"

His hands dug into the flesh of your ass, pulling your harsher into him, your clit pressing against his nose as his tongue made a meal of you. He was always so desperate for it, digging the wet muscle so far into your pussy you saw stars.

And he was messy too, his saliva and your arousal staying your thighs, dripping from the marble counter unto the ground as he ate from you.

Anyone who came in after would probably be able to tell from the smell of the bathroom alone. The cum leaking unto the floor would only solidify it.

But the thought of someone finding out that your boss had his face buried deep in your pussy wasn't exactly what you were thinking about when you came for him, hard and rough, your hips shaking and raising off the counter as you rode out your high.

"We shouldn't be doing such during events, sir." You whispered to him as you both walked down the corridors back into the hall where the gala was being held.

He had his large palm over your ass, groping you just in the dark of the hallway, letting go just as you stepped into the crowded hall.

"Just be a good girl and wait for me to fuck you on the way home, hm?" He smirked at you, a small sheen still visible on his lips.

He never cleaned his mouth properly after eating you out during such events. It was inappropriate, sure, but he just couldn't help himself.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha bakugou #bakugo smut

[cameronspecial]

I Want To Be Your Boyfriend

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sex

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.9K

Summary: Rafe never thought that he could fall for a Pogue, but the Goddess in front of him might change his mind.

A/N: This is a prequel to I Want To Be With You and requested by @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

When he first saw her, he thought she was the most beautiful Kook he had ever seen. The lavender silk Prada shirt she is wearing crops just above her belly button. It reveals a delicious sliver of her stomach that he just wants to rest his hands on. The recognizable double G of her creamed colour belt displays the girl’s financial status. But as Rafe’s eyes trail down to her pants, confusion crosses his features. The black jeans she wears are distraught with holes in a fashionable manner, yet, he doesn’t recognize the brand and the material looks too cheap to be a brand name. Her shoes also don’t match the top half of her outfit as the white Sketchers look so worn out that it had to be done because she can’t afford new ones and not because of aesthetics. 

Sarah and the rest of the Pogues joining his Goddess help put the puzzle pieces together in his mind. His sister is known for her love of sharing her clothes with her Pogue friends, so the Goddess in front of him must be a Pogue. Unlike Sarah, Rafe would never associate himself with Pogues unless they were working for him. Yet, the concern she shows for JJ over a bleeding cut on his forehead from falling down makes Rafe realize he doesn’t care that she lives on the wrong side of the island. She lets out the most amazing laugh he has ever heard and he has to be the one that makes her smile. He makes his way over to talk to her, but Kiara stops him in his tracks. 

“Don’t even think about it. She is too good for you,” she warns him away. He tries to sidestep her, “Come on, Kiara. Let me talk to her.” The girl shakes his head and turns him away. He doesn’t want to make a scene in front of the goddess, so he walks away in defeat. Throughout the night, he tries to talk to her and is intercepted by the other Pogues. 

——

For weeks he has been trying to talk to her, but every time a Pogue is there to stop him. At least he learnt her name. Y/N Y/L/N, the name of a goddess. He is sent by his dad to pick up something to eat at The Wreck and this is when he sees her next. She is whipping down a table on the far side of the room, which makes him switch course toward her. JJ spots Rafe’s new direction and runs into his path with a smirk. “I’m sorry, man. I can’t let you near her.” “You can’t tell me what to do, Pogue,” Rafe spits out, standing up straight so the small height distance looks a little bigger. JJ wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand to try to hide his chuckle, “When it comes to her, I can. Now, as the French say, arrivederci.” Rafe is going to argue more, but the call of his name for his order pulls him away from the blonde.

——

It felt like fate when he got to the coffee shop to see her hunched over a notebook by herself. He looks around the store to check that she really is alone and no other pogue is in sight. He grins at this new revelation, sliding himself across from her in the booth. “I’ve been trying to introduce myself for weeks. I’m Rafe,” he sticks his hand out for her to shake. She brings her hand to his and he notices that although they are calloused, they are still supple, “I know your name silly. And I know you know that you have been trying. My friends don’t keep things from me.” 

“Right, so you’ve just been making me chase after you on purpose.” 

“You know, Rafe, you are the one with the name that means counsel of the wolf in Old Norse. I’m starting to see that it is a pretty accurate name.”

“You are just as smart as I thought you were because I have no idea what you mean.”

She finds his honesty cute, “I’m saying that wolves are predators and you have been chasing after me like a pray for weeks.” He likes that she isn’t condescending when she explains the joke to him. “Ahh, I totally understood that. Please, keep blessing me with your wisdom.” 

——

Rafe has been talking and texting Y/N for a month now and he is finally convinced they are not going to be caught hanging out together by the other Pogues. This means he is finally going to ask her to go steady with him because he is assured they can go on a date without being caught. She stares at her TV show while his head is resting on her thigh near her stomach. He is between her legs and his focus is on his phone. “Y/N,” he catches her attention. “I want to be your boyfriend.” His tone is practically begging her to say yes. She looks down at him with a soft smile and her fingers lace through his hair. “Rafey, I would love for you to be my boyfriend. But I don’t think there is going to be much of a difference in our relationship,” she confides, twirling his hair between her fingers.

“Why not?” 

“I don’t think you can get any more clingy than this, Rafey.”

“True, but there is something I can start craving more than your touch, Baby”

He lifts his head off her thigh and brings himself to hover over Y/N. He gives her a peck before moving in to deepen the kiss. His hands find the buttons of her shirt as he begins kissing his way down her neck. Forget about her laughter, her moans are the most amazing thing he has ever heard.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #outer banks rafe #rafe x y/n #rafe x you #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #outerbanks #outer banks x y/n #outer banks x you #obx #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx fic #obx x reader #obx x you #obx x y/n

[highpri3stess]

Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa

Chapter 1: Warning Signals

Pairing: Mikey Sano x Fem Reader × Izana Kurokawa

series summary: your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. And now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.

chapter summary: being friends with Emma Sano is nice, until you get on the wrong side of the Sano brothers.

chapter warning: dark content, 18+, misogyny, alcohol mention, sex mention, r*pe mention, brief religious mentions, reader is called a whore/slut, slutshaming, sexual assault, noncon to dubcon, public initimacy, fingering (fem recieving), dacryphilia, gaslighting, manipulation, mentions of vomitting, victim blaming, destructive thoughts, mention of violence (towards reader)

wc: 9k +

masterlist||moodboard||chapter 2

KNOWING how big both the TENJUKU and TOMAN fraternities were on campus, it was a bit awkward being friends with the youngest sister of two of the most popular guys in this school. 

Anywhere you two went, she would always be the center of attention. You didn't really mind being in her shadow because as long as you have her, you’ll be fine. People called you a lost puppy, riding on Emma’s cocktails just to get by in university.

They didn’t know how you both have self-care days where you would paint your nails, wear facial masks and watch “Mean Girls” or “Clueless” on her laptop because you weren’t allowed to watch it when you were young. Or how the both of you always have study dates with hot coffee and exchanging annotated notes so that you both remain at the top of your game. They don’t know about the secrets you both share and the trust you both have for each other.

You don’t have to explain anything to anyone.

Emma is a pretty satisfied girl. Her college tuition is paid for in full and her time here has always been smooth. As far as you knew, she grew up being loved by all three of her brothers and they doted on her to the point she thinks they spoiled her.

-You don’t think they spoiled her -okay maybe a little with the way she spends money, but everyone has a vice-

You could tell she knew what familial love is with how sweet and kind she was to you when you opened up about your family troubles.

The only issue is that her two brothers, Mikey and Izana, have been at each other's necks for some years now. Mostly Izana inciting violence at Mikey and Mikey retailiating; it’s the number one concern in the Sano household the way those two fight and argue.

From what Emma told you, Izana’s provocative nature was the gasoline to Mikey’s volatile mental state, akin to fire. Even the littlest of things that no one would bat an eye for could incite a bloody brawl between them. And as they grew older, more people were involved in their petty rivalry, since neither Emma nor Shinichiro agreed to take their side.

Despite the looming hostility, Mikey decided to throw in the towel and agree for a truce. At first, Emma couldn’t believe it. Until two weeks had passed and they hadn’t fought once.

"They haven't gotten along at a stretch like this, I tell ya!" Emma had said excitedly while selecting what she would wear that day. You let out a small smile as she tossed multiple clothes on her large bed. Being the youngest had its perks, like how her oldest brother, Shinichiro paid for her to have the biggest room in one of the dorms all to herself.

You heard that on the front, he had one of the biggest Motorcycle brands and behind all of that, his real business was handling the black dragons, one of the biggest gangs in Japan.

You wonder how Emma feels about her brothers' lifestyle, but judging from her huge wardrobe and expensive jewelry, you don't think it bothers her too much.

Not like you cared either. To you, she was just Emma. Nothing more or less.

The blonde haired girl swiftly turns to you with two options in her hand, a pink sequined dress and a white halter crop top and a pink mini skirt with ruffles at the bottom. "I need to look really good today, which one says 'I'm so happy my brothers are not at each other's necks for once?' " She asked animatedly.

You've never seen her this happy since you met her, unless Draken was involved and somehow it made you happier too. It must be nice to be so close to your family members all the time and be able to mend your relationship with them.

You've never had that. You don't think of your family much. You don't wish to either, ever since your father cursed you out for rejecting a marriage proposal from one of his friends to pursue higher education and your mother stayed quiet, complicit -not like you would blame her for it. The first time you ever went against your father’s old fashioned ideals after years of obedience was met with immediate punishment.

Ironic.

You don’t regret it, though. Because you wouldn’t have met Emma.

"The second one is a better choice." You said with a smile, gazing at her with adoration in your eyes. “The skirt ruffles makes your legs look good. Pair it with the white strap heels and you’re good.”

The blonde broke out into a wider grin, the clothes pooling at her sides as she rested a hand on her hips. “Look at you giving me fashion advice.” She teased lightheartedly. “I feel like a proud mother growing up!”

“I learned from the best.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence and you take that time to admire her. You’ve always thought Emma was gorgeous, from her bright smile, to the twinkling of her eyes when she’s mischievous, to her enthusiasm for life in general. It was a no-brainer that guys would gravitate towards Emma and try their luck into dating her. Eventually the threat of her brothers or the threat of her equally terrifying friends with benefits who just happened to be the vice president of Toman, Ken Ryugi, would be enough to back off.

“So have you picked your outfit for the party?”

You’re snapped out of the trance-like state to see Emma standing in front of you, her body so close, you could smell her vivienne westwood. “Me?” You asked her, your tone laced with confusion. “I don’t think I’m gonna go.”

“And why is that?”

You paused, trying to organize your thoughts on how to break this to her without ruining her mood tonight. “I don’t think…” you took a deep breath before saying. “Your brothers would want me there.”

There’s a shift in her look, so minor but you could pick out the way her smile faltered. You both knew that her brothers could be… weird around you. It was something Emma couldn’t understand for the life of her.

Izana was usually very displeased with your presence and makes it very well known he doesn't want you there with snide remarks and forgetting your own order. His friends, for the fear of him, wouldn't speak to you either. It took Emma angrily yelling at him for him to be civil towards you. But the second she turned her back, Izana would go back to his usual self, being rude and peppering it with little acts of violence like pushing your hand so that your drink spilled all over the floor and even pushed your laptop bag to the ground, destroying the device you saved money to buy for months.

Mikey was on the other end of the spectrum. He would ignore your very presence and talk to everyone else but you and the rest followed suit. You’ve tried to at least make small talk with him, anything but he would talk over you. You heard from other people that he’s the nice brother and he’s usually so easy going- you’ve seen it with your very eyes the way he interacts with Emma’s other friends, Hinata and Senju.

And it was a shame really. You may or may not have had a crush on him from the first time you saw him. 

Only some guy named Takemitchi would try and explain that they don't hate you. It was surprising, considering that you knew people like Hakkai - whom you attended the same confirmation class and high school with- and even he made no effort to at least speak with you whenever you came to the frat house or met on the road.

You stopped bothering to make either of the Sano brothers like you, so long as they let Emma keep hanging out with you. It was obvious that they hold some animosity for you when you’ve done nothing to them.

You like peace and you wouldn’t want to cause a scene in the party.

“Nonsense!”

Before you could say anything, Emma pulled you up by your arm and dragged you off the bed towards her closet. “That’s a load of bullshit. There’s no way I’m leaving my best friend to rot in her room when there’s a Sano party going on.”

“But-”

“Nope!” She cut you off stubbornly, before pulling out some clothes from her closet, trying to match them with your skin tone. Satisfied with the outfit she picked, she puts the clothes in your arms and practically shoves you into her bathroom.

“EMMA-”

“Don’t Emma me, (name). You’re going to take a shower and by the time you’re out, I should be back with a makeup kit that suits you.” You tried to speak again but she silenced you by pressing a finger on your lips. “We’re going to be the hottest girls at that party, whether they like it or not.”

“But these look very short-”

“Sorry, can’t hear you, bye!”

You sighed when Emma shut the bathroom door in your face, locking it so that you would do what she said.

There was no winning with Emma when she made her mind up. Might as well follow through with it.

YOU had no idea how big this party would be.

You've come to the Toman frat house before with Emma to see Mikey and Draken once, and admired how large and spacious the three story building was. Now imagine that large of a space being cramped up with nearly the whole school's population.

Somewhat, you’re grateful that the blue outfit Emma lent you was as short as it was. The house was so hot, you could faint from how stuffy it was.

You hold on tightly onto Emma's hand, intertwined with each other as the both of you push through the big crowd, ignoring the sweaty, drunk patrons as you headed for the stairs. She, being used to parties like this, was able to navigate through the raging crowd with some form of ease.

After a few more squeezes, you both finally make it to the stairs.

As you both climbed up, you could see different people, all having fun in their own way. You're rarely invited to parties, so this was still more of a nouveau experience for you. A girl is asking for a light, a tiny blunt in between her teeth until another person lights it up for her. You see some guy shotgunning another girl, before melting into a hot kiss, tongue melding with each other. Someone else is drowning shot after shot and a couple is practically dry humping for everyone to see, a poor excuse to dance with the music.

The obscene sight surprisingly doesn’t disgust you, knowing your background, it just makes you curious. How would it feel to try one of those things? Smoking? Drinking? Making out with someone? Emma had told you about her own experiences; as long as you took it easy, it could be fun. Her first time with anything was with Draken and he was always gentle with her, plus her brothers were fine with it, even making sure whatever she took wasn’t laced with anything.

However, you were taught differently. That your body is a temple that you should keep clean for God and doing any of these things will sully you.

You didn’t believe that as much as you did when you were younger, but you didn’t want to test your luck either in case it ended up being true. Or look like a complete moron when you start coughing in front of everyone.

You tried as much as possible not to make it obvious that you're staring, but that failed when you caught the attention of a tall silhouette smoking. Sharp golden eyes stared you down and you instantly looked away, not wanting to get in trouble with some random guy.

You've heard rumors about Toman or Tenjuku guys absolutely beating anyone up for just staring at them wrong. You don't want to be victim number seventy-five this year.

Finally, you both reached your destination; a room on the second floor where Mikey had asked Emma to meet him. The ground floor was always the place where non-members stayed, trashed and partied. The first is accessible to all members of Toman (and now, Tenjuku) to hang out, have a private party and smoke. The second floor is only for executives and their girls or sisters.

You're a bit worried for yourself as Emma spoke to the person guarding the door. Mikey never said YOU could come along with Emma. You're no executive. You're no girlfriend of their executives and you are definitely not related to any of them. You had told Emma to leave you on the ground floor but she insisted that no one would be angry with your presence.

You've suspected that Emma has been trying to hook you up with someone in either of the fraternities. She was always insistent that you at least get to know them.

"(Name) come on."

Without waiting for your protest, Emma yanked you into the rather pristine room that housed the executives. Your eyes drank in the sight briefly, thanking God that it wasn't filthy or smelly as you had imagined it. The execs were all playing a game of poker, with an orange haired girl -Hinata Tachibana, his girlfriend, perched on Takemitchi's lap, laughing at his bad luck.

Emma's eyes quickly scanned around the room for a brief moment until she saw her two brothers sitting side by side, both engrossed in the game. Mikey’s blonde hair is tousled, like he’s been running his hand through it repeatedly. His baggy white shirt is unbuttoned half way and slips down his shoulder, revealing a black tank top and large jean trousers. Izana is different, white hair falling across his handsome face, leather jacket discarded on the back rest of the chair, leaving him in only a tight red shirt and tighter leather jeans, various chains and accessories hanging from his neck. Two earrings dangle from his ears- you can’t remember the name or significance.

‘They’re really good looking. Really-’

Without a warning, she lets go of your poor arm and jumps on top of Mikey and Izana, tackling them into a hug. Cards fly as she squeezes them hard, to which they discard their initial anger of losing their deck and hugging her back.

"Emma, next time give us a warning, will you?" Mikey pouted. You thought it looked cute, but immediately discarded that stupid thought. The guy hates your guts, don’t think he’s hot. "You ruined my game."

"As if you weren't losing dipshit." Izana teased, his face more relaxed than you’re used to seeing. "She did you a favor. You were down to 100 chips."

"You were down to 50. Who's the loser?"

"Still you."

You could see a smile tug at the corner of her lips lift up as she stands up. "Finally glad that two of you aren't strangling each other for once." She said triumphantly, hands on her hips. Her voice has a pep to it. "Last time both of you were in the same room, it didn't end well."

"Doesn't mean I'm not thinking about it." Izana scoffed. Suddenly, his purple eyes left his sister's face and trailed onto you who just stood a few feet away, awkwardly. You watched in real time as his smile fell, his features darkening the moment he locked gazes with you.

Dear God.

"What is SHE doing here?"

His harsh tone made everyone in the room shift their attention towards you. Your blood ran hot with embarrassment, feeling Izana’s purple eyes scan you up and down in disgust while everyone else just looks at you. Mikey’s gaze burned holes into you as well, silently asking you what the fuck you were doing here.

It was obvious. They never wanted you here. This entire thing was a mistake from the beginning.

"I-I'm glad I could walk with you all the way here, Emma" you stuttered, lying through your teeth. You didn't like the way both brothers were staring at you, like they could walk over to you and wring your neck at any moment. "I'll go join the party downstairs now, so I guess I'll see you soon-"

Pulling away from her brothers abruptly, the blonde girl rushed over to you and grabbed your arm, halting your attempt at running away as she dragged you back in place. You cursed underneath your breath at Emma’s desperate attempt to try to get you to stay.

“Hold on, now (name). I’ll talk to them” Emma whispered reassuringly, before turning to her brothers and increasing her voice in full volume. "She's here with me, is there a problem?”

There was a tense silence in the room as everyone stared at you. Mikey's tone was ice cold as he directed his angry gaze at you, dark eyes scanning down your body. You shuddered when his gaze settled on your legs just briefly before snapping back at Emma’s face.

"Emma. When I sent you that text, I specifically said you should come ALONE."

"Come on Mikey. This is ridiculous." Emma plead your case. You don't realize you're shaking until your friend squeezed your hand gently in an attempt to calm you down and you squeezed back, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. "Why would I leave her downstairs?"

"Because that’s where all the sluts like her stay."

Your eyes widened the second the words left his mouth. The shock was soon replaced by embarrassment as Izana looked at you with a snarl on his face, continuing his verbal assault on you. "Why are you looking shocked? Your ass is practically hanging out of that thing you call a skirt and that top?” His eyes fixate onto your cleavage, something dark crossing his face as he spits out “You're inviting unwanted attention with the way your tits are spilling out."

You suddenly felt naked in the simple white top and jean skirt you wore. Your free hand reached for the skirt to try and pull it down, anything to cover your shame.

"Izana!”

Emma started to reprimand her brother when Mikey cut in. "He's right Emma. I don't like the way she dresses either and I've been biting my tongue for a long while. I don't want you to start looking cheap and used."

“Excuse me? Mikey, are you crazy?”

“Come on Emma, look at your friend. One wrong move and she’ll flash her panties. She’s dressed like a prostitute in the red light district-”

Each word seemed to stab you in the heart multiple times. You quickly averted your eyes to the ground as he continued to berate you about your looks, tearing down your confidence bit by bit with each word until you're reduced into nothing but nerves and silent tears. Everyone was staring at you now, scrutinizing gazes drinking in the sight of your exposed flesh.

Unwanted attention.

"... just saying, next time, she shouldn't dress like this if she wants to tag along with you."

“THAT IS ENOUGH."

Emma’s voice rang through the entire room, anger evident in her tone. The two brothers sat there in silence, stunned at the kind of tone Emma had just used on them right now, as if they’ve never heard or seen her this angry in their life before. You could feel her tremble violently, her grip on your hand tightening as fury radiated from her body.

You were sure she’s holding back things to say with how badly she is shaking. Like she doesn’t want to say anything that she might regret saying. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it immediately, as if biting her words back.

"We're leaving."

“EMMA-”

“Oh come ON-”

Emma threw an arm around you and guided you out of the room amidst her brothers yelling at her to come back. Your friend is gentle with you, hiding your teary face from prying eyes as she leads you through the stairs. The loud music was enough to mask your uncontrolled sobbing, but it didn’t stop people with prying eyes from turning their gazes towards you, wondering what the hell happened to you.

You had never felt this embarrassed in your life. As much as Emma tried to comfort you on your way to her room, their words kept on reverberating in your head. You knew how hard it was to get out of that mindset and now, every confidence you worked for, has crashed down like a pile of cards. Even the way they looked at you made you feel so sick to your stomach.

You've been drilled into as a young child that you're dressed the way you're addressed and because of that, you have always made sure you looked modest enough. You were used to your brothers calling innocent girls whores because of what they wore, that they were asking for it.

And now witnessing it first hand just made you feel so dirty. From the way they looked at you, to how they spoke about your body. It made you ill to the core.

The worst part was how everyone had stared at you. Focusing on the parts that made you look like a whore in Izana’s words like you were a sideshow attraction for them.

The two of you managed to walk back to Emma's room, since hers was closer. Her phone never stopped buzzing all through your journey, even when you got back to her room. You could see the pain in her eyes as she ignored each call, only worsening your guilt. You wished you had stayed back in the dorms instead of ruining her night; she was supposed to be having fun, not walking you back to your room prematurely because you couldn’t take criticism.

"You should pic-"

"No (name)." Emma was quick to assert as she helped you lay down on her queen sized bed, the soft surface. "You don't need to feel pity for them, you're the one they hurt, not the other way around."

You wanted to protest when she fell on the bed beside you, yanking her covers over you both and encasing you in a hug. "You don't have to worry about them. I just want you to feel better." She whispered in your ears, rubbing your back gently. "You looked good tonight."

You could only nod in response at Emma's affirmation, wanting to so badly believe her. You want to believe what Emma thinks about you but you just can’t when you feel like abject filth. Your lips began to wobble, tears rolling down your cheeks once again as their words rang in your ears.

Months of unpacking that trauma, flushed down the drain by a single action.

Emma didn't say anything in response to your fresh tears, she only hugged you tight and rubbed circles on your back to soothe you until you cried yourself to sleep.

   “YOU'RE the one that is fucking wrong!”

You woke up with a start on hearing Emma’s harsh tone echo throughout the room.

You opened your eyes groggily, rolling the covers down a little bit to see what was going on. She was standing at the open door, changed into her pink nightgown, her hair cascading down her shoulder as she argued with someone in the hallways. You push the covers a little further to see who she was talking to, catching a glimpse of a blond haired male standing in the hallways, blocking the only source of light filtering into the room with his body.

“Don’t yell at me, I’m still your older brother.”

‘Mikey?’

You perk up at his voice, instantly awake hearing his irritated tone. What was Mikey even doing in the female dorms by this time of the night? You glance at Emma’s digital clock on her nightstand that reads 00:00am. By now, no male student is supposed to be here, but knowing how influential Mikey is, he might have bribed the security to let him in.

His quiet sigh interrupted your thoughts and you turned your attention back to them, wondering what was going on. He started talking again, taking a tone much softer than before. “You’ve changed Emma. You blow me off to spend time with a stranger-”

“She is not a strang-”

“She is to me. You have enough friends Emma, what do you need this one for? What’s so fucking special about her?” His voice grows harsh again as he goes off a tangent about you. “You’re gonna get tired of her Emma. She’s a new thing but sooner or later you’ll get sick of her.”

Your heart broke at Mikey’s words. Is that what he thinks of you? This was supposed to be the easy going guy on campus that helped girls cross the street and everyone liked?

What did you ever do to him?

“Stop it!” Emma hissed underneath her breath, trying to keep her voice down but drive her point across simultaneously. “Stop talking about (name) like she’s a pet or a fucking toy Mikey. I care for her and I won’t stand you talking shit about her.”

“Em for fuck sake, just get dressed and get your ass back to the party.” Your jaw nearly dropped at how he’s quick to switch topics, ignoring what she just said. “Draken’s waiting downstairs and Izana’s gonna be pissed if you don’t come back.”

“You’re gonna ignore everything I just said right now, huh?”

“Em-”

“You and Izana can go fuck yourselves.”

“You can’t be seriou-”

Emma didn’t let him finish when she slammed the door in his face, turning the key as fast as possible. Her body sagged on the door, a quiet ‘god’ escaping her lips. Her silhouette stayed in that position for two full minutes before she walked to the bed again.

In silence, she laid beside you, wrapping an arm around your body and dragging the blankets over you both once again. You felt safe.

   THE next few days after the party were eventful.

Emma had spent them with you, hanging out in the library to study and going to your work place after a hard day at school, just sitting and talking with you when there was no customer around. You ended up in your dorm room or hers afterwards, eating the snacks you both got from shops around the school.

It was nice. Emma was usually busy with other things, so having her with you all the time seems so perfect. You enjoy the quality time you spend with her, really.

But guilt wouldn’t let you do so.

She had isolated herself from her friend group affiliated with either of her brothers, ignoring their pleas to at least talk to either Mikey or Izana. Hinata or Senju would try to walk up to her on her way to class and Emma would outright ignore them. In a span of days, you’ve seen countless plushies, perfumes, expensive jewelry thrown into the dustbin, either from Mikey or Izana at the back of her dorm- their apology ripped letters ripped to shreds.

You had taken the time to piece one from Izana together and felt your heart bleed at his begging for them to “please work it out. We may not be siblings by blood but you’ll always be my little sister” and Mikey’s “Em I’m sorry for everything. Please let’s talk, I’ll listen to you.”

Your brothers had never done anything like that before. Usually, they would tell you to suck it up or even laugh at you for being too ‘sensitive’.

Then and there, you decided to talk to either of the Sano brothers in hopes you would mend their relationship. A naïve part of you thinks that this is the right thing for you to do; Emma has done so much for you, it’s time to return the favor.

You hadn’t told Emma what you planned on doing, knowing very well that it would make the poor girl far more furious than she was already. She would tell you that you have nothing to apologize for and get angry with you for suggesting to make peace with them, claiming you did nothing wrong.

The last thing you want is to escalate the issue. You just wanted Emma’s happiness.

You gripped the strap of your tote bag firmly, your eyes fixated on Mikey’s Chevrolet that was outside your department, possibly waiting for Emma to come out so that he would talk to her. Gathering all your courage, you walked towards the car and gently knock on the passenger’s seat tinted window to get his attention.

It wound down immediately, revealing the blonde haired man staring back at you with an annoyed expression.

“Are you trying to break my window?”

His rude tone made you instantly regret even trying to talk to him. Unfortunately for you, the decision was made and you stuck to it. ‘The letters, remember the letters’ You whispered to yourself. “I’m sorry Mikey I didn’t mean-”

“Manjiro.”

You blink twice at his interruption, trying to make sense of what was going on. “Huh?”

“Only my friends call me Mikey and as far I’m concerned, you aren’t one of them.”

There it is. That same attitude of that night. It almost made you angry with the way he was talking to you. You had every right to just curse him out and walk away from him - he was the one consistently harassing you, not the other way around, so who does he think he is?

Instead, you took a deep breath, thinking about just being the bigger person and how you want to make peace with him, so that everything returned to normal. “Okay, I’m sorry about your window Manjiro.” You added politely. “Can we talk?”

He narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously and you expected him to roll up his window and just drive away after that.

“Get in.”

You were shocked, but that quickly wore off when he opened the door for you to enter. You settled in quickly, snapping the seatbelt on after closing the door behind you.

There’s tense silence between the two of you as the car moved towards a more secluded part of the campus. You anxiously looked at your lap while he drove, wondering how you were going to start the conversation with him without instantly setting him off. Your gaze eventually drifted up to his face; from his half-lidded dark eyes to his straight nose, down to his soft pink lips. You could see the resemblance between him and Emma, from their facial structure to genuinely good skin -not to mention they were both attractive. Despite his height, you knew a large amount of girls that crushed on him religiously. You’re not sure if anyone succeeded with him though since you don’t really do campus gossip and try to stay in the background.

The car stops, bringing you back to reality. You realized that he had parked behind an abandoned class far behind the rest of the school. According to the university’s history, this was the first ever lecture hall that was built for the school, and eventually they decided not to renovate it as a remembrance from their little beginnings.

Or they didn’t want to spend any money on it.

Mikey switched the engine off, completely silencing the environment between the two of you. It is then that the realization hits you. You’re all alone with one of the most dangerous guys in this school, in a place where no one could hear you even if you scream. The thought makes you nervous, hoping to high heavens that Manjiro doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Well?” He asked, breaking the ice between the two of you. Mikey leaned back on the driver’s seat, turning to look at you. “You wanted to talk? Start talking.”

‘Okay. I can do this’ You whispered gently, exhaling through your lips. You can do this. “Mike- I-i mean Manjiro, I know it’s awkward, after everything that happened at the party and now it’s all a mess.” You cringed at the way you’re jumbling your words, this was not how it was meant to go. “We still haven’t resolved things yet-”

“We?”

You’re taken aback by his shocked tone as if he didn’t remember what both he and Izana had said to you, but when he doesn’t elaborate further, you take matters into your own hands. “Yes. You both said some unsavory things to me that hurt me that day, and it made Emma mad.” You paced yourself, not wanting to start rambling again. “I also want to apologize for disrupting your party by taking those words to heart and if I have offended you in any way, please forgive me.”

There’s an unreadable expression on his face, as if he’s slowly processing all the words you had just said. You watched his reaction morph from surprise to blankness, nothing on his face, which scared you more than any other expression.

“Get out of my car.”

What?

You quickly turned to the man, trying to understand what you had done wrong. This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go in your head. You expected that Manjiro would be civil enough to at least apologize for his actions too or talk, not this.  “Wait, Manjiro, what did I say wrong-”

“You don’t even realize you’re the problem!” You nearly jump out of your skin when you see the way his once annoyed expression had changed into something far more ugly, eyes blown out, face red with hot fury as he spat at you.

“Em can never fucking shut up about how I need to apologize to you whenever I try to talk to her! It’s always about you, you, you! So what I called you a slut? Was I wrong? Look at what you wore at that party.” he snapped at you, before sneering at your clothes right now; a blue zip up cropped sweater showing off a little mid-riff and a layered skirt that stopped at your thigh, coupled with a pair of white knee high socks. “And look at what you’re wearing right now. Just look at how short that skirt is. Might as well show your ass off to the campus”

You instantly started to feel self-conscious at his disgusted look, trying to drag down your skirt to cover the space between your thighs and socks. The action only seemed to fuel his anger. “Oh? You didn’t know when you dressed up like a common whore this morning, huh?”

“I thought it was cute-” You felt so stupid, uttering those words, but before you could say anything else, Mikey cut you off. “Cute? Oh you’re cute alright, just as cute as those cocksluts on porn sites with cum all over their faces. That’s how cute you are.”

You want to cry at how insultive and insensitive his words are. You weren’t even showing off much skin and he is just calling you a slut through and through. 

“I’m not a slut-” your voice trembled, but just like arguing with your father, it’s no use. He let out a loud scoff, his gaze flickering from your face to your lap, settling between your legs. “Really? As far as I’ve heard, you’re used product. That pussy is probably loosened up from all the cock you’ve taken.”

“I’m not that kind of gir-”

“I’ll only believe it if you let me touch your pussy..”

“Excuse me?”

“Let me feel how tight you are. Then I’ll believe you.”

You don’t like where this is taking you to. You see Mikey pressing something on his key and the locks click, trapping you in the ventilated car with him. You try to pry the door open or undo the latch, only to discover that it was stuck and that there was no way to go out. Your heart starts hammering loudly in your chest, dread filling your veins when you realized how alone and utterly fucked you are.

“Manjiro open the door or I’ll- I’ll-” 

“Or you’ll what?” He spat back, dangling the keys before your very eyes before putting it somewhere you couldn’t see. “You wanna open the door so bad? Get the key from me then.”

You’re quick to react, lunging forward in an attempt to snatch the key for him. He easily resisted you grabbing at his body while laughing at your repeated screams to let you out. It was like the more you begged and pleaded for him to let you go, the more he liked whatever game he was playing.

“THIS ISN’T FUNN- MANJIRO!”

Your screaming did nothing to deter him from practically jumping on you and pinning your arms against your chest with one firm hand, a leg separating your thighs. You twisted and turned, trying to fight your way out of his tight grip but to no avail. He was heavy and stronger than you had imagined, holding onto you like you weighed nothing at all.

His other hand reached underneath your skirt, skimming through your panties, making you squirm in your position at the feeling. Panic rises against your chest as he pushes the crotch part aside, revealing your pussy. “Wait! Wait, please-” you try to reason with him as he traces through a streak of your hairy vulva, curling a strand in one finger before moving to your clit.

“You don’t shave?” His tone is so casual, like he isn’t doing something very abhorrent and wrong right now. His question is left hanging in the air as his finger starts to slowly circle around your clit.

You’ve never been touched before. You’ve never touched yourself there either. You grew up in a household that taught you that anyone who isn’t your husband touching you is wrong. Your body is a temple to be kept for your husband.

So when Mikey’s slow and sensual movement against your clit begins, your body nearly seizes up with sensitivity. A loud gasp escapes your lips, followed by heavy breathing, your body shuddering with something unfamiliar and electric, sending signals that you didn’t know how to respond.

He strokes you faster, rubbing your sensitive nub in circles that has your eyes glazing over and your hips moving to feel more of his touches, wetting his car seat and your skirt with arousal. Mikey watched with interest the way you closed your eyes tight, your head lolled towards the side as your chest rises and falls, quiet ‘oh’ leaving your lips. He started to take it a step further, leaning over to your neck and trails kisses from your pulse point, to your jawline. He moved up to your ear and his long tongue darted towards the shell, licking it.

“Manjiro-” You gasped at the foreign wetness, with each flick of his tongue, sending pleasurable shivers down your body to your very core. Encouraged by your somewhat positive response, he continues licking your earlobe, his teeth occasionally grazing the shell as his fingers progressively leaves your clit, gathering your slick between his two fingers and tracing the outline of your hole.

“Shit” he groaned, feeling how soaked you were. “You’re so wet right now, I could just slide in that pussy of yours with ease.”

You wanted to protest when you felt two thick fingers inch into your unused hole. You wanted to push him off you and run out of the car until you were far away from him. Every part of your mind, your heart, everything in you wants Mikey OFF you as he forces your hole to accept his fingers.

And yet, you couldn’t even scream, you couldn’t claw at his face to scratch his eyes out for doing this to you. No. Instead, you’re arching your back and breathing his name into his ears over and over again, your hands clenched tightly in his grip as his fingers stretched your pussy out. All you do is tear up and let this sick pervert lick the salt rolling down your cheeks off, before going back to kissing the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“You’re so pretty when you cry f’me. Come on, keep making those noises.” 

He curled up his fingers, experimentally looking for that spot as the burn graduated to a pleasurable stretch, repeated moans leaving your lips. He fingered you, progressively increasing his speed and pleasure overriding your senses as he circled his thumb over your poor nub, simultaneously with him curling up your g-spot.

Your body responded to his touches, lips kissing up and down your neck, licking your pulse point before sinking his teeth and mouth on it, making you gasp loudly.

Everything was too much. Your pussy tightened around his fingers, thighs trembling as he brought you closer to the edge. His lips left your neck and kissed up to your jaw, then the corner of your lips, pumping into you faster until you started to spasm.

“M-manjiro I-i feel, I feel- waitwaitwait- hngh-”

You arched your back uncomfortably with a strangled cry, soaking his fingers as your vision went blinding white. Your body trembled as he fucks and kisses you through your orgasm, shaking in his grasp until you fall limp on the chair, well spent.

You’re catching your breath as his fingers slid out of your pussy, a string of your cum connecting them. Manjiro looked at his soaked fingers with interest, before popping them in his mouth and humming to himself in approval. The sight feels so wrong to look at and you can’t find the strength to look away as he licked his fingers clean of your musky taste.

You don’t say anything when he let go of your wrists and adjusted your panties so that it covered your pussy. The blonde haired man climbed back to his seat, starting up the engine of his car again.

He doesn’t say anything when you start sobbing.

   “I GOT the food for you.”

You didn’t respond to Manjiro, hanging your face as tears rolled down your face. It’s the position you had assumed since he climbed off your body, something he couldn’t get you out. He thought that maybe if he got you some food, maybe you’ll ease up and eat.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Kissing his teeth, he entered back into the driver's seat before closing the door behind him, tossing the food at the back seat. You could tell from the way he was muttering underneath his breath that he was growing more annoyed with you. “Honestly, I don’t know why the hell you’re crying. You’re still a virgin.”

You didn’t know what else to expect from him. That he would even offer you a shred of apology for what he did? The way his words are so callous, lacking any form of tact in the way he’s brushing off what he just did tore you apart.

Emma had painted this man as someone who would hang the moon and stars for her. Someone she knew she could call if anything was going to happen to her, who would fight through hell and back for her safety. She had told you of how he beat up anyone that touched her wrongly and how he would try to make her forget anything unpleasant. To Emma, Mikey was her knight in shining armor, her hero.

But when you turn to look at him through your teary gaze, watching him rev up his car engine with a nonchalant expression on his face, all you see is a monster.

You felt sick.

“I’m going to tell Emma.”

Your voice was quiet, hoarse from all the sobbing but the anger was evident. There was no way you were going to let him get away scott free. You knew that the police would be as good as useless because you’ll have no evidence by the time you manage to file a complaint. The school authorities won’t help you either as Shinichiro Sano was one of their biggest benefactors and everyone in the faculty loved Manjiro despite his tendency to be disrespectful.

But if you told Emma, you know she’ll believe you. Even if the entire world was against you and for him, you would still be able to get her to take your side and stand with you.

You’re sure name dropping his little sister would make him scared at the very least. Mikey loved her to death, she had this perfect image of her sweet older brother that he has to uphold at the very least.

“Call her then.”

Without skipping a beat, he dropped his own phone straight onto your lap before continuing to focus on the road. Eyes wide, you turned your head to Mikey to see any form of reaction, even him flinching slightly.

Nothing.

Your mouth hung open at how he just blankly stared at the road ahead of him, his grip on the steering wheel normal as he drove you back to campus. As if he’s innocent, like he didn’t force his fingers into your panties and violate your purity. His nonchalance irritates you; it’s as if he doesn’t care what you say or do to him.

“How-” you questioned him, wondering where the hell he dropped his humanity? Any other person would have reacted; begging you, threatening you or even giving a flimsy apology. “-you’re not even scared-”

“Why should I?” He shrugs his shoulders. “You never once said no.”

“That’s not how it works!”

“Then how does it work?” He cuts you short, taking a right turn to park outside of your faculty building. He puts the car in park before turning to face you. “You walk up to my car to ask me if we could talk. When I told you to get out, you didn‘t leave. You never told me to stop and you didn’t struggle. You know what you did instead?”

“Sto-”

“Ah ah- Manjiro” he mocked you in a high pitched voice, making you cover your ears in humiliation, not wanting to hear anything from him. You wanted to throw up, ruin his car. You want the ground to swallow you whole, anything that would take him far away from you. “Ah, mmh Manjiro, mmh mhhh ah ah- you moan like a pornstar by the way. Almost like you enjoyed being treated like that.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but all you felt was bile rise up to your throat. A part of you nagged that he had a point; you never said anything that sounded like ‘stop’ or ‘no’ and how you positively responded to his touches. ‘You even orgasmed.’ A gnarly disgusting voice bubbles up in your head, in defense of Mikey. ‘It was obvious you enjoyed it. Every second of it.’

You tried to deny it. Try to block out that voice as you attempt to remember everything you were told about assault. You’re fighting a war in your head, against the intrusive voices as you picked up the phone to tell Emma. ‘She’ll believe me. She’ll believe me-’

“Face it. You enjoy being taken advantage of.”

Those words were the final nail to the coffin. The phone lies in your limp hand, finger just above Emma’s line to call her. Everything that led up to this point involved your choices. To stay in his car. Not fighting harder. Never screaming no or stop.

You let him sully your temple.

Mikey spared you one more look, dark eyes scanning every inch of your crumpled form. You don’t see the twitch of his lips or him struggling not to smile or laugh at your predicament that he caused. Instead, he slides the device out of your hand, placing it back in the middle of his car before grasping your hand in his.

“Alright, stop crying.” he soothed in mock sympathy, thumb tracing over the back of your palm. “I’ll take you shopping and buy you new clothes, hmm? And I’ll buy you anything else you want. Okay?”

You should have known better to believe him. After everything he has done to you, from consistently insulting you, to assaulting you and then making you feel guilty for giving him the opportunity to do so.

And yet, you’re nodding along with him, agreeing with him and letting his warmth engulf you. “Okay.” You said in a small voice, your free hand grasping the hem of your skirt tightly.

“Look at me.”

You felt another hand grasp your chin, forcing you to look at his face, dark eyes peering at your face. “I don’t like that look on your face.” You wince as his fingers tightened around your jaw, your heart hammering against your chest when he commanded you once again. “Smile.”

You don’t know what else to do. With Mikey, it’s like going to a war knowing fully well you would lose.

And so you do as you’re told. Your lips lifted at the corners forcefully and you gave your best smile. He returned it with a smile of his own, genuine to the point his eyes dilated.

“Good girl.”

Your mouth went dry at his statement when he withdrew from your body and unlocked the door for you. Deciding not to ponder on it, you reach for the handle to leave. You had a class in an hour’s time and you were supposed to meet up with Emma beforehand to return her laptop that you borrowed for your project.

“Wait.”

You paused in your tracks, your hand hovering above the door handle. What else does he want from you? “Your makeup is ruined. Fix it before Emma sees you. You don’t want to give her the wrong idea that I hurt you.”

Bile rose in your throat once again at his words, but you hold yourself from doing anything that would set him off. You only nodded in response before opening the door and exiting the car. Tears threatened to escape your eyes as you hurried off to class, your throat burning with anger as you gripped both your tote bag and the food he had gotten for you, hard. Your body shook with each step feeling the intensity of his dark eyes burning into you.

“Smile. (Name).” you started whispering his words to yourself as you enter your department, pushing back your hatred and disgust for yourself to the furthest corner of your mind. “Just smile.”

Ending scene:

Mikey never tore his gaze from you as you disappeared into the building. Dark eyes watched as your ass bounced in that jean skirt you had worn today, nearly reviving the boner he had prior. He had to admit, notwithstanding his absolute disgust for you, you were a sight for sore eyes - pretty, naive, inexperienced.

A people pleaser to add the cherry on top.

He’s never been with an inexperienced girl before. Not even when he lost his virginity in high school. It didn’t hurt that you also had the sexiest thighs he’s ever seen either.

You weren’t as stupid as he thought -far from it. Mikey knew your strategy; picking your battles carefully. You’re rightfully afraid of both him and Izana. You were even more afraid of losing face with Emma, the only friend you managed to make here, which is why you came to him because you felt guilty for making her mad at them.

How you thought that would solve anything, though, was beyond his understanding. All your actions pointed at was that you are a big suck up with little self-respect.

He and Izana were perhaps worried for nothing. If played right, they could have you underneath their thumb like they do with the rest of Emma’s other friends. All this was to keep an eye on their little sister in the long run. Personally, if you had stayed in your lane, you wouldn’t be a target.

Once you entered your department, Mikey picked up his phone, went straight to his contacts and searched “Takemichi’s pervert friend”. It rang for a few seconds until someone picked it up.

“What now?” A male voice grumbled. “Why do you call me at the worst times Mikey? I’m in the middle of something important.”

‘Yeah. Fucking some girl in a closet is so important. Idiot.’

“I need a favour from you. A big one. I’ll pay you for it.”

The line shuffled a little bit, before quieting down. Mikey could hear a girl muttering something about fucking her quick before class starts, but the blond could care less. “Alright, I’m listening.” He muttered through the phone. “I owe Takemitchi one for covering for me last semester. What can I do for you?”

“You’re the R.A of (name)’s dorm room, right? I need a copy of her room key.”

Another pause from the other end again. “Mikey, I know you want her far away from Emma, but aren’t you doing too much?” The man chastised. “Planning on getting her expelled? The organized beating last month wasn’t enough?”

Mikey groaned. Izana had sent some girls to your room to fuck you up as a warning, hoping you would get the message. Unfortunately, they weren’t as effective because you still showed up to lectures the next day with a swollen face and a limp and Emma just ended up fussing over you. “You know that was all Izana’s idea. Look, I just need it. I’m not getting her expelled or anything.”

“What exactly do you want them for then?”

“None of your fucking business” Mikey hissed rudely. “Are you gonna name your price or do I ask someone else Makoto?”

The silence was almost deafening before Makoto said “5k” defeated.

Mikey looked at the building again before looking at his watch. He had to attend his criminology lecture by 3pm since he had a presentation today and it was already 1:30pm. The frat member he gave his presentation to edit must be waiting for him at the coffee shop.

Izana would just have to wait until after the class to talk about what their next line of action would be towards their common enemy.

“Deal. Make two copies.”

series taglist (special thanks to): @honeybleed @manjibunny @reiners-milkbiddies @izanaki707 @rukiaslvr @ilovetwodmen @bbykoo-7 @tenjikusstuff4 @cockonoi @koffeenoe2 @kodzukein @lostsomewhereinthegarden @cashout-princess @aliyxh-o @kay-bear200 @iluv-ace @vixensbrainrotts @missgab @urmomsksk @sweeytheart

monica's after notes: i hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm actually feeling ill today so i might not respond quickly. for those who are seeing this for the first time, if you like it please reblog and comment and drop me a follow! note that i do not condone any action potrayed here.

next update is on friday and trust things get even more interesting and twisted.

#mikey sano x reader smut #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyo revenger #izana x reader #mikey x reader x izana #izana kurokawa #izana kurokawa smut #mikey sano #fem reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x femreader smut

[sunraies]

hiiii can u do rafe x reader? she is really shy and a very nice person and maybe she is jj twin and one day she is just browsing on a second habd bookstore cause obvi she cant afford to buy books all the time and rafe sees her there cause he took weezy there and he buys the books that she looked more interested at and later he approaches her and jj all protective

idk where i want it to go🤣 u can be tyr judge

thank uuuu

This is so cute! I hope this does the request justice. x

Second-Hand Books

Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings - Fluff, protective JJ, Reader is JJ's sister, but no description given. Hints of Luke being a shit dad.

As requested above

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You loved the second-hand bookstore in Kildare. It sometimes felt like a second home. Its name and sign was by no means magical "Secondhand Books" written in cursive golden letters, but the atmosphere was.

The old converted shop was a treasure trove of wonders, tucked away in a little side alley. It smelt like an old library with its shelves filled with countless stories and adventures waiting to be picked up and read. There were plants dotted all around, and even ivy tangled amongst the fairy lights on the ceiling.

Mixed matched lamps, tables, and plush armchairs were scattered around. If you caught Ms. Peggy, on a good day, she would let you sit and read until closing. The old lady enjoyed your company, often making you tea and giving you cookies.

You returned the favour by helping clean, unbox shipments, and take orders. You never accepted a penny from her, even if it was desperately needed it.

"Wheeze, why are we here?" You knew that voice as it carried through the aisles. "The store up the road has brand new books, not these dusty, old shit ones."

"They aren't dusty. Some are old. But none are shit." the youngest Cameron's voice protested. "I like it here. Plus, there is no chance of finding first editions of classics in that one"

"Just look online." Rafe sighed as you peaked around the corner.

He stood close to the door, which bell had jingled as they entered, with his hands stuffed in his shorts pockets. The backwards baseball cup gave him a boyish charm as his sunglasses were tucked into the collar of his pink tee.

He looked a little out of place, but only by his uninterested expression. Rafe Cameron would most likely fit in anywhere if he wasn't jugding his surroundings.

Wheezie, on the other hand, had a smile so bright as she practically skipped into the store. "There is no fun in that. You can't smell the books"

"You're a weird kid, Wheeze." Rafe shook his head, but you caught the small smile as he watched his baby sister happily search the shelves.

"Shut up and help look for Little Women." Wheezie called over her shoulder. "Make sure it's first edition"

You were shocked as Rafe chuckled and held up his hands before helping Wheezie look. He checked the higher shelves that she was unable to reach.

One problem with Ms. Peggy was her store had no order to it. You had offered to organise and arrange in alphabetical order, but she claimed it took away the magic of finding the perfect book.

"Here." You smiled as you approached Wheezie. Rafe had given up looking about 20 minutes ago and was slumped in an armchair, scrolling on his phone. "It's not a first edition, but the cover is beautiful."

"Oh. It's beautiful!" Wheeze smiled, taking the book and admiring the cover. "It's ok, I just said that, so it would give me more time in here." she whispered, making you laugh.

Your laugh caught Rafe’s attention as he quickly glanced up from his phone. His eyes looked you up and down.

Damn, how did you look so beautiful. He was sure he'd seen the crop top you were wearing on Kie before, but it looked so much better on you. He loved the way your shorts hugged your ass and waist. He even smiled a little at the shell anklet at the top of your greyish white Converse.

"You find it?" He asked, having shook the thoughts from his mind and tucking his phone into his back pocket.

"Yeah, Miss Maybank helped me," Wheezie smiled, remembering her manners, even if you were the same age as Sarah. "But I wanna look around some more."

Rafe sighed and rolled his eyes at her pleading look. "Alright, fine. One hour, and then we gotta go."

As Wheezie bounced around the store, he flopped back into the chair, even picking up a book from the table and glancing at it.

What you didn't realise was that as you looked away, he would glance over the top of the book every so often and watched as you moved around the store. He noticed that you would read the back of a book, flick to the first page before smiling and tucking under your arm if you like it.

"Just the one, Ms Peg." You smiled at the old lady behind the till before digging into your old, tattered, looking tote bag and pulling out your purse.

"I can put the others to the side for you, dear." She offered as you had walked up to the till with a pile of five.

"It's ok. If they are gone by next week, then it wasn't meant to be." You said as handed her the cash.

You didn't know why you even admitted to buying all five as you should have known your card would bounce. Maybe this time, you had just been hoping that Luke, your father, hadn't run up the credit bill.

You wished a goodbye to Wheezie as she walked up the counter with a pile of books and even gave Rafe a smile and wave as you left the store.

*-*-*-*

The sound of a dirt bike coming up the road broke you out of the world you were emersied in. You had been reading your new book on the creaky old porch swing on the porch outside. Enjoying the evening coolish before sunset.

At first, you thought it was JJ coming home, but then you realised he'd come home an hour ago with John B and Pope. You could hear them laughing in the house.

"JJ?!" You called into the window open as you stood up, placing your book on your blanket. "Are you guys expecting anyone?"

You were a little nervous as unplanned visits from people not in the Twinkie or Kie's car normally meant your father or JJ had caused trouble.

The rider stopped a few feet away, and your eyes widened in shock as Rafe Cameron removed his helmet. His hair tousled from the helmet and his cheeks little pink.

"Rafe?" You frowned and hugged your hoodie around your body as you hid your hands in your sleeves.

He looked a little unsure of himself as he walked over to you, a cotton tote bag in his hand. "These are for you." He held the bag out to you as he glanced around, not looking at you directly.

You took the bag, completely confused before gasping as you looked inside. It was the books you had to leave at the store.

Before you even had a chance to question it or say thank you, the screen door burst open as JJ came flying out "What the fuck are you doing here, Kook?"

You tried to pull him back as he got right in Rafe’s face "Jayj. Stop"

JJ looked between you and Rafe "What the fuck did he say to you?" He asked you before turning to Rafe again "What'd you say?"

"What's it to you, Pogue" Rafe looked like he was trying to hold back his anger but with JJ right in his personal space it was hard.

"Stay away from my sister, pretty boy" JJ pushed Rafe a little "Get the fuck outta here"

John B and Pope appeared in the doorway but before they could back up JJ, you got between the two that were squaring up to each other.

You stood with your back to Rafe as you spoke to JJ but could feel him breathing heavily behind you.

"Jayj. Go back inside" You sighed and got annoyed as he stared at Rafe over your head "JJ, go the fuck back inside. I will call if I need you"

It took you actually pushing JJ a little for him to snap out of it. He looked at you before nodding "He tries anything. We beat him. He's on our terf now"

You rolled your eyes "I'm sure, he won't. But sure, you boys can protect your territory if needed"

You knew Rafe was taking a risk being in The Cut, especially after the stunt he pulled the other week. You knew why the boys were bitter as you hadn't been too happy either after finding out he'd jumped Pope at the Country Club.

You watched JJ walk backwards and stand on the porch with the others. You sighed before turning to face Rafe.

"I can't take these." You held the bag out to him, but he stook his head.

"They're yours," He said, rubbing the neck of his neck. He seemed nervous and not because of the boys glaring at him from the porch. "Bin them, read them, do whatever you want with them."

You looked in the bag again before smiling. "Thank you, Rafe." You smiled at him.

"I better go." He sighed after nodding at your thanks. He looked like he wanted to say more but walked back to his bike

"Bye," JJ yelled. "Don't come back. The Cu- Ow!" You cut him off as you shoved into his shoulder

"You guys are fucking unbelievable" You muttered walking into the house, leaving them looking offerened at each other.

As you sat on your bed, you pulled the books out of the bag before finding a note, tucked into one of them. Your heart fluttered as you read it.

'I would buy you all the books in the world, just to see that smile - R'

#rafe cameron #outer banks rafe #outerbanks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #outerbanks fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fic

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 15 - Noncon

Ghost x Reader - 4.6k (on ao3)

summary: You find yourself cornered in a Maze of Mirrors. (Reader POV)

cw: noncon everything, face fucking, pussy slapping, degradation, kinda a wedgie? like a front wedgie? is that a thing?, orgasm denial

note: if you like this (or hate it but like the concept) read Halloween Haunt by Harley Laroux <3 her erotica is top tier

You’ve always loved Halloween - always been the kid with the scariest costume in class, always had the house decorated with uncomfortably realistic decorations. When your sorority sisters dressed up as black cats and sexy witches, you spent hours painting the most realistic zombie makeup you could. (Your sisters complained for months that you ruined the pictures, but the frat boys had all thought your makeup was far more interesting than theirs. God, you do not miss college.)

Regardless, you’ve always been known to love any and everything scary. There’s something about the thrill of a scare - the creeping horror as you start to realize what’s coming, the ultimate reveal - that always gets you a little squirmy in your seat. Your first crush was Skeet Ulrich in Scream - specifically the scene where he’s covered in blood, licking his fingers. 

You get all those ooey-gooey good scared feelings as your friend drags you through the decently crowded fairgrounds. The actual fair - the one that comes yearly, that no one ever calls anything but the fair - had left only two weeks ago, so this travelling fair had set things up in mostly the same arrangement and, you suspect, to trick certain people into thinking they were the same company.

You’ve already forgotten what your friend said the event was called. She hadn’t needed to give many details to convince you - you heard travelling circus, horror themed, interactive workers, and you were in. The branding isn’t very strong anyways, the only place the name was displayed was the entrance booth, and none of the workers seem to wear any sort of logo, so you don’t feel too forgetful for letting it slip your memory so easily.

You’re not very impressed with the fear factor so far. You hadn’t done too much makeup (hadn’t wanted to risk being mistaken for a cast member) but since it’s the night before Halloween you’ve got a half-done costume on - a clown. Just some white face paint, black lips, and overdrawn triangles around the eyes, a little smudged to make it look like you’ve been chasing someone down and working up a sweat. Your hoodie and tennis skirt look a bit out of place, but you’d wanted to be comfortable since you hoped you’d be spending your night running from actors.

But even a face full of makeup feels like it might’ve been too much effort for this place. Most of the costumes look like they’re from Party City at best - some of them even look very lazily hand-made - and none of the workers seem particularly interested in scaring people. Still, the crowd is easily amused and even a wave or a feint towards a customer has shrieks ringing in the air every few minutes.

You sigh a little disapointedly as you and your friend linger on the edge of the fairgrounds, off to the side and in the dark so you don’t have to deal with the crowd. She pulls out a cigarette and offers you her light.

“I’m sorry,” she says, lighting the stick between your teeth when you lean forward. “I really thought it would be scarier than this. Some of the posters…” she exagetates a shiver. “I thought they’d at least have better costumes.”

You eye a man in a werewolf mask across the pathway, pissing into the dirt. He’s got a flannel and jeans on, and the mask is a little bit crumpled like he pulled it out of a Walmart bin this morning. You’d bet money the flannel was just a happy coincidence he noticed when he showed up for work.

“Yeah,” you sigh, blowing out a lungful of smoke and watching the actor try not to get his dick stuck in his zipper. “Not really your fault, though, these things always look scarier in the ads. Wanna get out of here soon?”

You pass the cigarette to her. “In a bit,” she replies. “I want to try and find some food first. You hungry?”

You shake your head with a grunt. “I wouldn’t trust anything cooked here, honestly. Might just pick up something on the way back.”

She passes you the cigarette for one last breath. “Well I’m too hungry for that. You good on your own for a bit?”

You crouch down a moment to stub out the cigarette, leaving the butt in the gravel. “Yeah, sure. Might see if these fun houses have anything worth seeing in them.”

“You should!” She smiles over her shoulder at you as she starts off to a more well-lit section of the fair. “You never know, maybe they stick the real scares in there!”

You give her a final wave and shout, “Here’s hoping!” at her back as she leaves. 

You linger outside for a little longer, scanning the few structures nearby to decide which one you want to waste a few tickets on.

There’s a Freak Show, but you already know you’d be horribly disappointed if you went in there, something labeled a “House of Horrors” that you’re sure is as much a scam as the freak show, and a few games that have cheap prizes lined up above them.

Across from you, with no lights around it and just one attendant - slumped over, hopefully sleeping - at the front, is a House of Mirrors. Figuring it’s the least likely to be a waste of time (and knowing the kid won’t wake up to charge you), you head over to the building.

The closer you get the more you worry about if he’s asleep or dead, but his snores rattle the little tickets resting on his desk so you figure he’s just a slacker. It’s almost too easy to get by him with all your tickets safe in your pocket. There’s no one else around the darkened corner of the fairgrounds, but you’re quite sure no one would bother snitching on you this late at night. All the parents with little kids left hours ago, leaving mostly teenagers and adults of varying ages left to wander the park.

There’s music playing from speakers that you can’t see, an old clown-themed song that sounds like it’s playing on a scratched up DVD. You’re pleasantly surprised as you make your way through the dusty lobby and into the main section of the building, creatively labeled MAZE OF MIRRORS.

Their branding could definitely use some work, but you’ll give them points for ambience - the lights are turned so low that it’s nearly too dark to see, making all of the mirrors even more difficult to spot. You find yourself a little spooked as you start to make your way through the maze, grinning to yourself.

It’s a shockingly difficult maze, you quickly discover. The music is so loud in some spots that you can hardly hear your thoughts, and so faint in others that you think it might be turned off. The maze itself is a series of either tight, tiny hallways or large open rooms. Whoever designed it clearly knew how to take advantage of the space they were given, the maze feels ten times bigger than it looked on the outside as you wander through.

You know the trick to mazes - keep one hand on the right wall and eventually you’ll find your way out - but it’s fun to just wander around the place, so you let yourself get stuck wandering in circles. You’re glad your friend isn’t here to see how many times you manage to walk into a mirror fully confident that it’s not there, only to whack yourself in the face. For how low maintenance the rest of the fair is, you’re surprised that the hall of mirrors is what they focus their upkeep on.

You’ve been in the maze for about five minutes when you see him.

He scares the shit out of you at first. You spot him behind you in a mirror - one you’d just walked into, which is the only reason you can see well enough to notice him - standing at the entrance to the hallway you’d turned down. He’s clad in all black, except for the skull mask over his face. You think he’s just something taped onto the wall with the way that he blends in, but then that mask titls to the side and you’re struck with the bone-deep knowledge that you’re being watched.

“Shit!” You shout when it first registers that he’s not a piece of paper, one hand coming up to clasp at your erratically beating heart while the other steadies you against the mirror. He doesn’t move past tilting his head a bit further, and after a moment you relax.

You don’t turn around, but you study him a bit in the mirror. It’s too dark to see much more than the outline of his body, but he’s big. He looks like he’s wearing a long sleeved t-shirt and jeans with the mask, and he must be wearing gloves to cover his hands since you can’t see them.

You huff out a laugh as you let both of your hands fall to your sides.

“You got me good,” you call, glancing over your shoulder. You almost jump again - he’s closer than you’d realized, but too far away for you to touch. “I didn’t even see you follow me in here.”

He doens’t say anything. You turn around more fully, leaning back against the mirror and crossing your arms across your chest.

“You gonna start chasin’ me now?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow. You’re playing up the sass, but it’s always fun to mess with theme park employees.

The man takes a few steps forward, heavy boots thudding against the cheap wood flooring. He really is an intimidating bastard, far scarier than any of the other actors you’d seen so far.

“Well?” You call out, standing up from your spot. “Do I get a head start?”

Still no answer. He rolls his head on his neck, then steps to the side and walks into one of the connecting hallways without sparing you a glance. When you step closer to see which direction he’s chosen, he’s already gone.

You huff another laugh to yourself, shaking out your limbs and bouncing a few times on your toes.

Now that you know there’s someone in here with you, the thrill of a scare is starting to get you worked up. You hope they don’t have any rules against physical contact between actors and customers, just imagining the skeleton man tackling you has shivers running up your spine.

You don’t bother to be any quieter as you keep wandering through the maze. You bump into just as many mirrors, continue to question the speaker placement, and keep an eye out for any skeleton masks lingering behind you.

You see him a few more times, always behind you, always just out of reach. He gets progressively closer everytime you spot him. You're reminded of the Weeping Angels from Doctor Who - every time you look away, he gets closer.

It’s fun. More fun than you’ve had all night.

He finally catches up to you what you guess is about half an hour later. Youre just turning another corner, thinking about how it’s been a bit since you’ve seen your shadow, when a hand plants itself firmly between your shoulder blades and shoves.

You’re sent to the ground with a cry, palms scraping against the floor. There’s a gloved hand collaring your throat before you can think to do much more than catch your breath, hauling you up and holding you in the air.

Your eyes fly to the mirror less than a foot away, staring wide-eyed at the image reflected.

There’s you, in your messy clown makeup and hoodie, being held up by a giant swath of black behind you. He’s not ducking down at all, his feet planted on either side of your splayed legs as he towers above you. The way you’re being held up, your head doesn’t even reach his belt buckle. The contrast of your shock and discomfort to his plastic mask has your thighs clenching, just a bit.

He doesn’t duck lower, just tilts his head in that now-familiar way of his and pulls you a little further up. His hand is absolutely massive, thumb resting beneath one ear and his fingers resting below the other. You choke a bit as you’re lifted, knees scrambling beneath you.

This close to the mirror you can see his eyes - bright blue, surrounded by black paint, and staring back into yours.

He lowers his head, his free hand tugging your hair until you lean back and look straight up. The hand on your neck shifts to hold you in that position, his other hand lifting to pull the black part of his mask up.

He’s white, with thin lips and a broad jaw. You pant as you stare up at him, incapable of processing what’s going on.

His jaw works for a moment, lips twitching, and before you realize what he’s about to do you feel something wet splatter against your cheek.

He spit on you. Who the fuck does that? Being tackled and manhandled is one thing but spitting? You recoil reflixivley, lips curling as you reach up to try and wipe disgusting liquid off.

“What the fuck-” You start, but before you can even finish your sentence you’re yanked forward by your neck.

You yelp as you’re thrown from between his thighs, hips twisted awkwardly and head slamming back against the mirror. You cry out at the sharp pain at the back of your skull, but before you can think of doing anything there’s a hand around your neck again, a body crouched in front of you - over you - keeping you from doing anything.

You gape up at the actor, panting and surprised. None of the other employees even got close to touching customers - half of them didn’t even look like they wanted to be there - what the hell is this guy’s problem? Does he just take his job way too seriously

He’s far too close to you now, your nose nearly brushing where his shoulder be, his boots on either side of your thighs, his chest pressed so close that you can’t do anything with your hands.

The hand not around your neck comes up to your cheeks, grabbing them both in one hand and pinching until your lips pucker up. You squirm, letting out a noise of surprise and pain when his thumb and pointer finger dig in between your teeth to force your mouth open. One eye squeezes shut at the ache, but there’s nowhere for you to go with him caging you in.

This time when he spits, it lands right in the little hole he’s made for himself. With how close he is, you see the way his lips twitch up in the corners.

You try your best to get out from under him, hands pushing at his shoulders and legs desperately kicking. But he’s like a statute above you, hard as stone and immoveable. 

He leans so close that his lips nearly brush yours, meeting your glare with a spark of amusement. 

“Like how it tastes?” He purrs, chest rumbling against yours.

You make a noise somewhere between offended and annoyed, trying to throw yourself every which way for even an inch of freedom. All you manage is a tighter grip on your jaw and neck, leaving you wincing.

“Lots more where that came from,” he promises.

It’s insultingly easy for him to manhandle you, and you curse all the times you swore to yourself you’d finally start taking self-defense classes. You can barely manage a single blow, and when your hands or feet do make contact he doesn’t even flinch.

There’s absolutely nothing you can do as you’re wrestled to the floor. He gets you flat on your back then kneels over your head, his knees so close that you worry he’ll squeeze them together and pop your head like a berry.

He doesn’t give you a chance to sit up, planting one heavy hand in the center of your chest and leaning his weight forward, knocking the air out of you. You finally regain the ability to speak when his other hand moves to his belt, undoing it right above your face.

“What are you-? No, no, get the hell off me!” You shout, desperately pushing at his arm and trying to get enough leverage with your feet to squirm away. “Don’t you fucking dare- help! Somebody help!”

Your screams go ignored, blending right in with that stupid clown music and bouncing off the mirrors just to come straight back to your ears. Your noise doesn’t deter him at all, and he’s got his belt off and jeans yanked down despite your resistance. 

“No, no, no, don’t- stop, please, you can’t-” you gasp, eyes flying wide as you find yourself staring up at his cock above you. 

He doesn’t give you any warning, just grabs your jaw, holds it open, and sheathes himself down your throat.

Your limbs spasm, every instinct in your body screamin to get away as he slips right past your gag reflex. You’re terrified that you’ll vomit and choke on his cock, the fear dousing you in icy cold and leaving you limp for a minute. All you can think about is breathing around the intrusion in your throat, finding some way not to suffocate and die on a sticky mirror maze floor.

“Finally,” you hear him grunt from above you. He grabs both of your wrists, easily ignoring your weak pulls and tying them together with his belt. “Somethin’ to shut you up.”

You try and make a sound around his cock, yanking your hands away and panicking even more when you feel how firmly tied they are. You make another sound, insitively trying to cry out even with something stuffed in your mouth.

He moans above you, lowering himself to his elbows over your body. “Yeah, just like that,” he pants. “Mouth feel’s fuckin’ heavenly.”

You go silent, determined not to give this piece of shit anything he wants. Tears pour down your temples and across the tops of your ears, and your throat burns.

His hips move slowly against your face, grinding himself as deep as he can get before pulling out just a few inches and sliding back in. He’s got an unfairly large cock, and there’s already an ache developing in your jaw from just seconds held so wide open.

His foreskin catches on your teeth when he pulls the whole way out just to fuck back in, and you’re sharply reminded of the fact that you have teeth.

When his cock bottoms out, his balls resting against your eyes, you bite down, praying it’s enough to break skin.

It’s not. Instead of blood pouring into your mouth and a screaming man falling off of you, you hear the man snarl, pulling his dick out entirely and slamming it back down your throat so harshly that it feels almost like he’s punched you in the face.

“No fucking teeth,” he snaps above you, and you feel his weight shift back onto his knees, then his hands grab at your thighs and throw them open. He flips your skirt up and before you can think to bite down again lands a stinging slap against the gusset of your underwear.

You nearly scream around his cock, hips snapping closed to try and smother the pain. He only growls another sound, using one hand to hold you open and the other to rain down a series of progressively harder smacks.

Your breath hitches as you sob, hardly able to get any air in around his thrusts as he starts them back up again. Every time he buries himself to the hilt inside of you, he lands another hit to your poor pussy. You can’t help but wail around him.

“There it is,” he moans, the sound loud and unrestrained. “God you feel good screamin’ around my cock. Good fuckin’ hole, huh?”

He punctuates the last four words with slaps, leaving his length inside your throat and going back to that horrible grinding against your face. You go silent again, using all of your willpower to keep from screaming. What little thought is left in your head is used to figure out how best to breathe through your nose without choking on snot.

He doesn’t smack you again, but you feel his fingers trace around the edges of your panties. Your hips wiggle against your will, just trying to get away from the violation. One of your legs is pinned to the floor by the thigh, but the other oscillates between going limp and trying to get leverage and force your body up.

His fingers hook around the gusset of your underwear, but before you can even worry about him touching you there, he pulls them up towards your body.

He does it with such force that you’re left squealing, hips flying off the ground to try and lessen the pressure against your clit. His hand pulls so far up that you feel it resting nearly at your belly button. You can’t help the little gasping, gagging noises as he starts to thrust in and out of your mouth again.

You hear - you feel - him laugh, swaying his hand from left to right. Your hips try to follow naturally, just desperate to alleviate any of the pressure you can.

“Like a little puppet,” he murmurs, yanking even further up, moaning when you scream.

He lets them go only a few thrusts later, big hand smoothing the fabric down over your cunt. You can feel that it’s stretched out, a little looser around the meat of your pussy, and the thought only makes you cry harder.

But you go silent again. It’s the one thing left in your control - even pinned to the floor, hands tied, legs useless, mouth stuff, you can decide how much noise you make.

He doesn’t like that. He groans a little when you go quiet again, tapping your thigh sharply.

“No, come on, make your little noises again. Feels real nice on my cock.”

This time you’re ready for the smack against your vulva, and you remain silent. You stay silent for the next three too.

His hips work with a little more force again, balls smacking against your face and leaving you to squeeze your eyes shut. After the next slap his hand doesn’t lift again, just rubs over your vulva slowly.

It’s pure luck on his part that he happens to rub over your clit. It’s a pure lack of luck on your part that you moan at the sudden and unexpected pleasure, completely taken off guard.

He stills above you, then slowly repeats the movement. You’re helpless to the little whimpers coming from your throat, and you curse the fact that you’ve always been loud during sex. He zeros in on exactly how to rub your clit unreasonably quickly, fingers sure through the fabric of your underwear.

“That what you need?” He rumbles a laugh above you. “Pain won’t make you noisy, but pleasure will? I can work with that.”

Before you can even begin to question what that means, your underwear are tucked to the side, and there’s a face buried in your pussy.

He doesn’t bother taking any time to explore or try and learn your body, just dives tongue-first to your clit. His technique of lick first, figure out what feels good later unfortunately works on you, and you’re left writhing beneath him, eyes rolled back in pleasure and moans muffled.

He groans agaisnt you, too, lips vibrating against your clit in a horrible and delicious way. “There you go.” You can barely hear him over the sounds of your own choking, especially with his own voice muffled in your folds. “That feels good, keep going.”

You don’t want to, but the magic he works against your clit leaves you no choice. You can’t help the hitched cries spilling from your lips, even if they make you cry all that much harder as you hear them.

He doesn’t take much longer to come, and you’re torn between resenting the fact that it’s your sounds that get him off and being glad that he does so he can get off of you.

He comes with a loud groan, sent right into your cunt and dragging you far too close to an edge you do not want to see, and sends thick ropes right down your throat. It’s almost a kindness that you can’t taste him, only have to swallow as quickly as possible so you don’t choke. The movements of your throat only draw out his orgasm though, and you’re locked in a terrible cycle for what feels like an eternity.

He doesn’t get you off. You’re not sure if you’re thankful or not.

You gasp when he finally pulls out of your throat, taking uninhibited breaths for the first time in far too many minutes. You can’t shut your jaw from the pain, but you also can’t kick your legs when he kneels up more fully.

He’s silent as he takes back his belt, and no matter how much you beg your arms to move, they remain still on your stomach. He shifts off of you, and you whine wordlessly when he grabs a handful of your hair, wiping his flaccid cock off in it.

Still, you don’t move.

He stands and redoes his belt silently, the jingle loud even with the clown music still playing. You stare up at him, and he holds eye contact with you. For some reason, you can’t look away.

He crouches down again before he leaves, and you can’t help but flinch away. He doesn’t touch you sexually again, though, only reaches out and pushes your jaw closed with two firm fingers.

You hate that he still has the mask pulled up, because it means you can see his smirk.

“That was fun. Maybe we’ll do it again sometime.”

He’s gone before you manage to understand what he’s said, and the tears start all over again when you do.

—

It takes you a while to scrape yourself off of the floor. You only catch sight of yourself in one mirror before you stare at the ground.

Your makeup is ruined, teartracks running down your temples and both cheeks. There are smudges along your jaw where his hands grabbed. Your lips are swollen and red. It could not be more obvious what’s just happened to you.

You plant one hand on the wall to your right, and keep your eyes firmly planted on your sneakers as you leave the maze. You feel almost detached from yourself, unable to truly understand what happened, what it means.

The throbbing between your thighs is distracting. You worry you might chafe from how soaked your panties are.

It doesn’t take long to find your friend once you finally make it out. She takes one look at you and laughs, teases you about having fun without her. You can’t bring yourself to correct her, and she picks up on your tone quickly, dropping the subject.

The two of you walk silently to your car. You hate it, but you can’t help but scan every actor. Thankfully - or maybe not thankfully? You don’t know anymore - none of them are even close to as big as the masked man in the hall of mirrors was.

You tuck your hands beneath your armpits as you finally make it to the parking lot, walking as quickly as you can get away with without running. Your limbs go a little looser as you get to your car, mind relaxing as it recognizes how close you are to safety. 

You freeze when you finally make it to the driver’s side door, lungs going still and heart beating so quickly you worry it’ll pound right out of your chest.

There, sitting in the driver’s seat, is a skeleton mask sewed onto a balaclava.

#this is not very edited but i am BEHIND #this was originally gonna have like two more scenes but then it started to annoy me #i am coming to you again to confess: i did not read through this #ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #kinktober #kinktober day 15 #bo writes #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kinktober 2023

[luvyeni]

omgg your writing is incredible, i love it!!

i was thinking if you could write something where the reader is bang chan’s little sister and she grew up surrounded by the boys and all, but felix and her are hooking up in secret for while now (it’s not like everyone doesn’t suspect it tho) and one day everyone is meeting up in chan’s house so lixie comes up early, then later they start to get heated up but when everyone arrives they have to stop so there’s this build up tension and they’re horny af so they go to her bedroom and fuck anyways even though everyone is downstairs

TENSIONS RISING; LEE FELIX

pairings. hookup!felix x fem!reader

wc. 0.7k

warnings. oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink if you squint. this has a fluffy ending not on brand for luvyeni

thank you for reading my works , i hope you like it <3 !

tensions rise when you and felix are interrupted by the guys

—

"oi, felix! what are you doing here so early? ＿ , come down and greet felix." you smiled , making your way out of the room , down the stairs to the livingroom. "oh am i?" his eyes went to you , he bit back a smirk. "i was at the pc cafe , and i just decided to come over." chan let him in , he sat down on the chair. "hey." he waved to you. "hi."

"what are you wearing?" chan turned to you. "clothes christopher, i know you're unfamiliar with the term." he rolled his eyes. "go put on something else , im gonna go shower , felix you can make yourself a home." you made your way into the kitchen.

felix waited for chan's bedroom to close before he followed you into the kitchen , you felt him press himself against your ass. "do you always get this horny playing games?" you smirked , he flipped you around , pressing you against the counter. "you're such a brat , sending me those photos last night , what if one of the guys saw it." he growled against your ear. "been hard since this morning thinking about getting here to you."

"you want me to fix it?" you palmed his cock , stroking him through his pants. "fu..fuck yes." he groaned , lips tucked between his teeth , as you sunk to your knees. "good girl , take my cock out" he commanded , you unbuckled his pants , pulling his pants down , along with his underwear. "shit." his cocks sprung out , hitting his stomach , leaking with pre-cum.

"you're so hard lixie." he gasped when you grabbed the base of his cock , stroking it. "fu..fuck , put it in your mouth , before your brother gets back." he groaned as you took him into your mouth. "oh fuck , i missed that mouth." he grabbed a hold of the counter, you bobbed your head , stroking what you couldn't fit in your mouth.

"shit , baby im gonna cum , you want in your mouth?" you nodded , humming around his cock. "so nasty baby, then take me all the way." you relaxed your throat , taking him all the way in. "oh fuck , im cumming !" he took one of his hands , tangling it in your hair , holding it as he came in your mouth. he looked down at you , your tear stained face. "let me see." you opened your mouth. "swallow it." you obeyed , swallowing opening your mouth to show him. "fucking good girl." he pulled you up by your arm , turning your body around , your hands on the counter.

"these little ass shorts , they aren't hiding much." you slapped your ass. "fe..felix." you moaned , he covered your mouth. "your brother might here you." he grinding against your ass. "p..please do something." you whined. "beg for it." he said. "pl..please , please fuck me, i need you." he groaned , slapping your ass one more time , about to pull your pants off , when someone knocked on the door.

"shit." he breathed against your ear. "baby , im so sorry." you were whining as he pulled his pants up. "i didn't get to cum." you pouted. "you think im happy about this , i've been thinking about being inside you since yesterday." he kissed your pouted lips , he quickly pulled away , making his way back into the livingroom , just as your brother came down the steps.

"that must be the rest of them." you followed after him. "＿ get the door." you rolled your eyes. "why didn't you get it your damn self." you grumbled , walking over to the door, opening it. "little bang, wassup!" changbin ruffled your head , you stepped to the side , letting them all in. "in 22 changbin , 22." you said. "oh really i thought you were still 17." you rolled your eyes sitting down , in the seat across from felix, he smirked watching you fold your arms , pouting.

you were gonna die if he kept looking at you like that , running his fingers over his lips , looking at you with those i want to fuck you eyes , adjusting himself so that you could see his hard on , you couldn't take it anymore. "im going to my room , call me when dinner is here." you stood up , walking up the stairs to your bedroom , felix smirked, he knew you wanted him to follow you.

he excused himself , his excuse was he had to use the bathroom , no one batted an eye , as he made his way up the steps , and made his way to your bedroom. he bit his lip , heading your low whines, you must've beem pleasuring yourself. "princess it's me." you moaned , letting him know to come in.

"princess , you couldn't wait for me , you had to come up here and stuff your fingers inside you." he unbuckled his pants like earlier , letting them fall. he dipped down on to your bed , spreading your legs. "so fucking wet , poor baby had to suffer that long." he rubbed your clit with his thumb. "fe..felix , i need you , please." you moaned. "i will baby , i'll fuck you right now." he pulled his cock out , lining it up with your soaking entrance , pushing into you.

"oh...oh fuck , you're pussy is choking my dick." he groaned , pushing all the way in , pulling out. "fuck , felix please." you whined , mouth immediately going wide as he pushed all the way back in , his hips against yours. "so fucking tight." he wanted to take his time and fuck you properly , but he knew they would start to wonder what was taking him so long.

"baby , we're gonna have to speed this up." he pulled out , slamming back into you , fucking into you roughly. you grabbed your sheets , your back arching off the bed. "fu..fuck felix , so good." you moaned. "love we have to be quiet , so they won't hear you." he groaned , kissing you to swallowing both of you guys moans , pulling away , spit connecting both your lips.

"so fucking pretty , all fucked out for me , you're mine right." he grabbed your boobs through your thin tank top. "fe..felix im gonna cum." you whined. "say your mine , then you can cum." he rubbed harsh circles on your clit , making your legs twitch as you felt your orgasm approaching. "fuck felix , im yours, please let me cum." you whined.

"go a head , princess , cum." he chased both your highs. "fuck , felix." you covered your mouth to keep from screaming as you came on his cock , eyes rolling to back of your head. "fu..fuck princess , im gonna cum , where do you want it?" he groaned , about to cum. "inside, please cum inside me."

"shit." his orgasm hit him like crazy , thrusting two times before cumming inside your hole. "fuck baby." he breathed , hair stuck to his forehead. "you felt so fucking good." he said, pulling out , watching his cum leak out of you. "shit baby , if they weren't here , i'd have to fuck you again."

he put his clothes back on , grabbing some tissues to help clean, giving you loving kisses in between. "how about you let me take you on a proper date?" he said. "really?" your eyes lit up. "of course, im tired of sneaking around your brothers back , i want to show you off to them." you smiled kissing him.

"i would love to go on a date with you."

©️LUVYENI

#kpop x reader #kpop smut #skz hard hours #stray kids smut #skz hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids x reader #skz smut #lee felix x reader #lee felix smut #lee felix hard hours #lee felix hard thoughts #felix hard thoughts #felix hard hours #felix x reader

[w2sology]

can you do a harry dating headcanon pls? thank you!

headcanons are my absolute fave form of writing honestly 🤭

me + you, harry lewis.

summary: what it's like to date harry!

warnings: language, that's about it!

you guys have been together since you were quite young

probably around 16/17

honestly there could be different stories of how you two got together

harry was always outgoing, especially if it was just between you guys

he brought the energy out of you and it made you love him for all he was

having been together for such a long time, you definitely know almost all there is to know about each other

"she doesn't like tulips as much as she likes baby breaths, so maybe get some of those"

"hm, i don't know, harry's not too fond of buttons so maybe not that top"

introducing you to the boys was one of the most nerve racking things for harry

but he knew that if he loved you, then so would they

play fighting. no doubt.

it could start off with something like harry not giving you the tv remote

and from there it's just... full on wwe

but of course harry goes gentle snd trues not to hurt you

harry loves physical contact between you guys

like when you'd both be laying in bed under the sheets, he had to be touching you in some way

whether it was an arm around your body or his head on his chest, he'd be content with whatever

but there are sometimes where harry's insecure about his clinginess

he doesn't want to come off as too clingy or needy, but he wants to literally live in your skin

and you'd always welcome him with open arms, catering to his needs as well as you could

you two love to spoil the other, not even with just gifts, it could be something like affection, date nights, or something harry randomly came up with

having to deal with harry's random bursts of energy

also having to deal with broken chairs, controllers, and a whole lot more thanks to your boyfriend's game rage

having your own groupchat with the sidewomen and spilling all the goss and whatnot

harry wanting in on the goss

harry becoming one of the girls in the sense that he's always ready for whatever gossip you have for him

forehead kisses !!!! literally yours and harry's brand at this point

you hurt yourself? here have a forehead kiss. you had a good day at work? forehead kiss. you're looking pretty today? forehead kiss.

harry becoming visibly flustered whenever one of the boys mention you on camera

he goes all shy and smiley and shit

and everyone is in love with you two, they see how happy you make each other and honestly that's the most important thing

begging harry to get a pet but also having to school him on how to take care of one properly

baby feverrrrrrrr goes through the roof when you see how he is with olive

it's enough to make anyone's ovaries burst

"look at how tiny her feet are!─── why're you looking at me like that"

"we should have a baby"

"Y/N?????"

going on the most random dates

one week could be the movies the next could be go karting

going on girls trips with his sister, leaving harry feeling betrayed and sad (he hates sharing you)

both of you are the duo that everyone hates to look after when drunk, you're either giggly or obnoxious, but the good type of obnoxious

"they're on their what, seventh drink?"

"ethan, they've been at it all night, that's not drink number seven"

"for fuck's sake, someone cut them off ─── harry! get down from the fucking counter???"

complimenting him no matter what and he never fails to blush

literally just having a good time. you're relationship is so fun.

him using you as a sofa/bed and literally flopping down on you

you never complaining too much because you do the same

bickering non stop but knowing where the line is so it doesn't become a full blown argument

wearing his clothes all. the. time.

"babe, have you seen my beige hoodie─── of course you have it"

accidentally being in the frame of his streams sometimes and his chat going wild

hugs from behind !!!! harry always snakes his arms around your stomach and pulls your back into his chest, he finds those times of hugs much nicer

hand holding is a must, even if just your pinkies are holding on to each other

harry being a little shit and teasing you all the time (both in that way and not in that way)

he has a folder in his camera roll full of pictures of you

never failing to express to each other how much you love each other

#wroetoshaw #wroetoshaw x reader #wroetoshaw imagines #wroetoshaw imagine #harry lewis #sidemen #sidemen x reader #harry lewis x reader

[i-hate-people-1]

~Mid to west~

Part 2

Eddie Munson x Henderson reader road trip au

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Henderson Reader

Warnings:none

Word count: 3,782

An hour into your trip, you hear the first dreaded “I have to pee.” Of course, it came from Dustin.

"Really, come on, man, we’re barely even a town over,” Eddie groaned, pulling into the next gas despite his sentiment.

“I’m sorry,” he whined, dashing out of the car the moment Eddie put it in park.

“Maybe we should all try to and we can grab some snacks” Steve suggested Ever, the mother of the group.

"Ugh, fine,” Eddie groaned, throwing his head back. “But no drinks!” He yelled as your friends dashed out of the vehicle. “I mean it!”

“There’s no way they actually listen,” you told him, giggling as you got out of the car Eddie close behind.

“My lady,” Eddie said, smiling brightly as he opened the door for you, bowing slightly.

“Why thank you, kind sir,” you said, giggling and curtsying as you walked in.

After using the restroom, you were scanning the isles for a snack. Indecisive as ever, you finally settled on a bag of Cheez-Its, a pack of gum, and a nougat bar Dustin’s favorite for when he inevitably complains about being snacky (when he’s hungry but doesn’t want real food).

"This all,” the teen at the counter asked. Well, you think she was asking, but her deadpan tone made it hard to tell.

"Yup,” you said, smiling.

She looked up from your snacks, her unamused glare fixed on you.

“Hey sweetheart, spot me a pack of smokes?" You felt his arm before you heard his voice as he hung it lazily over your shoulder.

Casual touches like this almost fooled you enough to think that the boy you’ve been crushing on since you saw him perform at the middle school talent show actually liked you, or at least thought of you as more than his friends older sister, but then reality would always come crashing down on you when you remembered that Eddie was like that with everyone the pet names, teasing remarks, and touching. I mean, the boy was a walking ball of love to give, constantly looking for a new friend or a new lost sheep he could take under his wing.

No matter how many people teased him, judged him unfairly, or called him the most unspeakable things, he never gave up and always kept that signature Eddie Munson smile that simultaneously lit up the room and made you weak in the knees.

“Y/N?” Eddie asked, his concern-ridden face pulling you out of your thoughts as his arm slid awkwardly off your shoulder.

“Oh, yeah, I can,” you said, turning back to the unamused teen. “Uh, and a pack of Malboro Reds, please,” you told the cashier, surprised that the frown she was wearing could get deeper.

“You know my brand?” You could practically hear the shock in his voice—a deep blush taking over your cheeks.

"Yeah, I guess,” you mumbled as you paid for your things, purposely avoiding his eyes that were boring into you. “What?” You asked, turning back to look at him and handing him the cigarettes.

His doe eyes were soft, and there was a remnant of a smile he was holding back on his face.

"Nothing,” he answered through an awkward cough. “Come on, sunshine, the ass crack of America awaits.” He finished turning around to grab the door for you.

You quickly followed, telling the teen at the counter thank you and to have a nice day.

As you made it outside, Eddie broke off to go lean against the wall to smoke. As you finally made it back to the van, your cheeks were still ablaze from your interaction.

Everyone but Steve had made it back to the van, already getting settled in, to hopefully not stop for at least a couple hours.

After about 5 minutes, Eddie and Steve returned, Steve having two huge bags of snacks, so you wouldn’t have to get any more, hopefully.

"Alright, hellions, buckle up. We’re not stopping for a while,” Eddie said, pulling out of the gas station. “I’m just kidding. Of course, my van does not have seatbelts.”

***

"Eddie, I’m hungry,” Lucas whined, poking the boy in the cheek. “Can we please stop? You made us skip lunch.” He finished continuing to poke him.

"Sinclair, you poke me one more time, and I’ll cut your hand off and make you eat it. How’s that sound for dinner?” Eddie said it through clenched teeth and crazy eyes.

Lucas stopped his finger inches away from the boy's cheek cautiously after a moment of testing the waters; he seemingly gave up pulling his hand back.

Eddie let out a sigh of relief, unclenching his jaw, and everything was peaceful for about two seconds until Lucas decided that poking the bear was the best idea he could think of, poking Eddie’s cheek once more, smirking mischievously.

“That’s it!” Eddie yelled, pulling off to the side of the road, making all of you tussle in place as he abruptly stopped the car out of his seat as quick as lightning to tackle the younger boy to the ground. He was so quick, you almost missed the smirk fall off of Lucas’s face and the horror take over his eyes.

Which is how you found yourself in the driver's seat, looking out for a place to stop for dinner, with Eddie in the passenger seat slumped down, arms crossed over his chest as he pouted.

"Alright, let’s all get some food in us and stretch our legs, yeah?” You asked as you pulled into the first dinner you’d spotted.

Lucas and Dustin rushed out of the vehicle, the former fully recovering from the tackle he’d taken.

Robin Max and Steve took more time getting out, following the two rambunctious boys.

You, however, stayed in the van, waiting for the boy in the passenger seat to look anywhere but out the window quietly.

"Oh, come on, Ed's, you know you're hungry too,” you said, turning in your seat to face him fully. “And maybe your a tad hangry, and that’s why you tackled Lucas?”

"No, I tackled him because the little shit wouldn’t stop poking me,” Eddie snapped, finally turning to you, and while the vicious gaze of Eddie Munson was terrifying for most people, you thought it was adorable. He looked like a puppy trying to threaten you like a teddy bear with a knife.

“So you’re saying if it had been Steve in the driver's seat and he wouldn’t stop to get you food, you wouldn’t have done the same thing?” You challenged him, raising a brow. His frown softened a bit, a mischievous glint in his eyes, you assume, at the thought of annoying Steve Harrington.

"See, you’d think it was hilarious if it were Steve; your little sheep was just following in your footsteps.”

"Yeah, but they’re supposed to annoy other people, not me,” he grumbled, though you could tell he was starting to come around.

“Oh well, now you’re just asking too much,” you teased. “Now come on, I’ll buy you a milkshake,” you told him, hopping out of the driver's seat.

“Chocolate?” Eddie asked, head-whipped, to look at you.

"Ugh, fine, but I’m going to judge you for it,” you said, rolling your eyes as you shut the door and walked inside, Eddie following closely behind.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, are you trying to tell me you don’t like chocolate milkshakes?” Eddie asked, dramatic as ever, his hair whipping around as he shook his head.

“I mean, they’re fine, but vanilla is definitely better,” you said, shrugging. Eddie gasped loudly, clutching a hand to his chest.

“I can’t believe you just said that to me,” he said quickly as he pulled out a seat, gesturing for you to sit down.

You sat down flustered as Robin raised a brow at you, which only made your blush deepen.

“What’d you say to him?” Max asked.

“Get this, Red; she thinks vanilla milkshakes are better than chocolate,” Eddie scoffed before you could get a word.

Leading the table into a lively debate, with some taking your side while others took Eddie’s.

“You guys are all wrong. It’s obviously strawberry." Steve cut in your heads, all turning to him with disgusted looks.

"Okay, everyone can at least agree that Steve’s wrong, right?” Robin asks, eyes darting around the group as you all nod, “All right, it’s unanimous, Steve’s an idiot.” She finishes, and Steve looks offended while all of you laugh.

"Alright, I need to go smoke. You guys stress me out." Eddie shook his head, smiling.

“Those things will kill you,” you said, popping a fry into your mouth.

"Hey, you’re the one supplying me, so don’t get all high and mighty on me now, princess,” Eddie smirked as you rolled your eyes.

“That was a temporary lapse in judgment; I was distracted,” you shrugged, trying to play it cool, though the obvious blush on your face was giving you away.

"Aww, you saying I distract ya doll face?” Eddie asked, leaning in close.

"Ew, dude, are you really flirting with my sister right now?” Dustin interrupted, gagging immediately after he got the question out.

“See what I mean? Little fuckers are so annoying, I’m surprised I don’t smoke more,” he groaned, placing a cigarette between his lips as he stood up and made his way to the door.

“I’ve got to go to the bathroom,” you announced, getting up and speed-walking to the bathroom flustered.

"Really, Dustin,” Max scolded, smacking him in the back of the head.

"Ow, what was that for?”

“You totally just ruined their moment. Eddie was finally growing some balls, and you just stomped on them,” Lucas explained.

“What?” Dustin asked again, and the poor boy was obviously very confused.

"Really, Dustin, do we have to explain everything to you? You’re not a child,” Steve quipped sarcastically.

“What these doofuses are getting at is that Eddie has just now started shooting his shot, and you might have just deterred him for another what is it like nine years?.” Robin explained hoping the young boy would catch on.

"Wait, are you guys saying Eddie actually likes Y/N?”

“Oh my gosh, look at those boys. Sherlock finally figured one out,” Steve said, slow-clapping.

“Shut up, Steve,” Dustin seethed. “So Eddie likes Y/N? Does she like him?”

"Obviously,” Max yelled, quickly apologizing when most of the eyes in the restaurant turned to her.

“So all those times he’s called her hot, he wasn’t just doing that to annoy me?” Dustin asked, still bewildered by the new information.

“While I’m sure that is a perk,Steve started sitting up in his chair to pat Dustin on the back. “He’s got it; he's had it bad since his first senior year,Steve finished shrugging.

“I can’t believe one of my best friends has a crush on my sister, and none of you told me,” Dustin pouted.

“We thought you knew it was pretty obvious,” Max said, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t want to think about that; it’s gross.”

"Well, you better get used to it because our mission this trip is to get them together,” Robin told him as the group nodded in agreement. “And it was working perfectly without us having to do anything but put them in seats next to each other, and you might have just ruined it,” Robin grumbled.

“How am I supposed to know if you don’t tell me?!” Dustin argued.

“Tell you what?” Eddie asked, making the group jump and turn to look at the boy.

"Umm, uh, that there’s been something in his teeth for a while,” Lucas said as casually as he could.

"Nice,” Max complemented under her breath.

“Okay?” Eddie said, taking a seat and continuing to eat his food, “Hey, where’s Y/N?” He asked through a mouth full of food.

“She went to the bathroom,” Steve shrugged, sipping his milkshake.

Eddie’s head instinctively snapped towards the bathroom door, a deep frown falling over his features. When he was met with the beautiful sight of your smile and the crushing feeling that washed over him, he saw a guy, the one making you smile.

Eddie’s glare made everyone’s eyes shift to the bathroom as you giggled behind your hand at something the boy said.

And before the smart part of Eddie’s brain could even think of telling him to stay seated, he was on his feet, speeding faster than he could think.

You noticed him before he could even get a word out, turning to smile at him. “Hey Eddie, what’s up?” You asked, brows furrowed, man; he was so screwed if all it took was you smiling at him to turn him into jelly.

"Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie said, composing himself to smirk at you. “Who's your friend?” He asked, glaring daggers into the man in front of you.

"Oh, this is Chad; he saw me looking at maps and said he’s traveling west too,” you told him, smiling.

“How convenient,” Eddie bit out, his voice lashing in sarcasm.

"Yeah, man, a total coincidence,” Chad said, returning Eddie’s glare.

The two men stood in unmoving silence, glaring daggers at each other. You furrowed your brows, looking between them, rolling your eyes as far back into your head as they could go at your realization. “Oh my, are you two having a staring contest right now?” you asked, shaking your head in disbelief.

You took their unblinking silence as an answer: “Stop it, you doofus!” You exclaimed, smacking his arm lightly.

“Hey!” Eddie shrieked, “You made me lose!”

“Lose what exactly? What would’ve happened at the end of that contest? What would you have won?” You asked, arms crossing over your chest.

“I’m not exactly a hundred percent on the rules, but I’m pretty sure he gets you now,” Eddie deadpanned.

“Dude, I thought we were just asserting dominance.”

Eddie looked at the man with an expression somewhere between shock, disgust, and anger. “And that’s who won, thanks to you, sweetheart.”

“I’m not some prize, Munson,” you scoffed, walking back towards your friends.

"Yeah, no shit. I was joking that dude never would’ve beat me fair and square anyway.”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles or win me, and also, I was just talking to someone new. What is your issue?” You asked, turning to face him as you made it out in front of the diner.

“What’s my issue?!” Eddie challenged, “I don’t know, haven’t you ever heard of stranger danger? The guy was practically eye-fucking you the whole conversation.”

“So?” You asked, making Eddie scoff.

“So? So?” He asked back in unbelief, “You know what? Fine, whatever have fun getting murdered in the back of some creeps van!” Eddie exclaimed, arms waving, as he turned on his heels to stomp to the van.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that,” you said, stomping after him, “and stop walking away.” You grabbed his hand, making him turn to you and ask, “Why do you care so much?”

Eddie pulled you towards him effortlessly, pinning you up against the back of the van out of view of your friends.

His breath was hot and rugged as it fanned over your face, his doe eyes peering into your soul as he examined your face, his gaze darting between your lips and eyes.

“I care because I want you to be mine,” he whispered in your ear, his hand coming up to cup the side of your neck as you sucked in a breath. “You want that, baby?” Eddie teased biting your earlobe, and you whimpered.

"Oh, don’t worry, pretty girl, you will soon enough,” Eddie told you, inches away from your face, lips so close to touching as your body tingled in anticipation. Just as Eddie was about to close the gap, you were abruptly pulled out of your false reality by the very person you made it for. As he shook your shoulder gently, “Hey, wake up, pretty girl, we’ve got to get back on the road,” he whispered, moving some hair out of your face.

A deep blush set in at the pet name—the same pet name he had just used in your dream—coming into the front of your mind—that little voice telling you he knew but there’s no way he could know, right?

The existential crisis must have been showing on your face because Eddie was looking at you concerned. “You okay, sunshine, you look a little dazed. Nap that good?” He asked, quirking a brow.

"Yeah,” you said almost too quickly, "um, I didn’t even realize I felt asleep.”

“Oh yeah, you feel asleep on my shoulder a few minutes after you came back from the bathroom,” he shrugged.

"Well, you have a comfortable shoulder, thanks, pal,” you said, froging him in the arm, quickly getting out of your seat and speed-walking to the van.

“That was painful,” Robin said as she exited the diner behind you.

“Did I just call him pal and punch him in the arm?” You asked, your head falling on her shoulder.

"Yeah, it was pretty hard to watch,” she deadpanned. "Robin,” you whined.

“Right, sorry,” she said as she started to run a comforting hand through your hair. “What even happened to get you that flustered?”

“I kind of had a sex dream about Eddie,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by her shoulder.

“You had a sex dream about Munson, while you were napping on him,?!?” she said a bit too loudly for your taste.

“Shhh Robin”

"Right, sorry, you had a sex dream about Munson?” She repeated it in a whisper.

"Well, kind of, I was woken up before any actual sex happened, but that’s where it was leading,” you told her, finally lifting your head. “What am I going to do? I feel like a perv.”

"Okay, first of all, it’s completely natural, and second, maybe that’s your subconscious way of telling you to, you know, make a move,” Robin said, biting her thumb nail.

“You think I should make a move on him? Does he even like me?” You asked, pulling Robin's thumb away from her mouth.

“Are you kidding me? You were totally just drooling all over him in your sleep, and he didn’t even bat an eye at the guys.”

“I drooled on him.” You half asked, half whined, her head failing back into place on her shoulder.

***

“Did she just call me Pal?" Eddie asked through a dejected sigh, slumping in his seat.

"Yeah, she also drooled on you a little bit,” Dustin pointed out, poking a spot on his shoulder over the table.

“And I find that unbelievably adorable. I’m so fucked. I just got pal zoned. I think that’s worse than the friend zone,” Eddie whined, beating his head on the table.

"Oh, stop that. She didn’t mean anything by it. She just got flustered. She likes you, okay. Stop stressing and dancing around it flirtatiously and just ask her out.” Dustin told him, his eyes rolling as far back into his head as they could go.

“She said that?” Eddie’s head perked up like a puppy who had just been offered a treat.

“Not exactly, but I’m her brother, and a brother knows." Dustin shrugged, standing up. “Just go for it, man, she’s into you. I promise, just you know, maybe don’t do it in front of me because gross.”

“When did you get so wise?” Steve asked, hands on his hips, sassy as ever.

“I’ve always been wise; you deepshits just never notice,” he said, sticking his chin high as he walked off.

“No wonder his head is so big; it’s got to fit that massive ego.”

***

It’s been two hours since you stopped for dinner and 12 since you started the trip as a whole. Eddie had driven for another hour after you stopped before you made him stop and let Steve drive before he felt asleep at the wheel.

Steve and Robin were now in front. Robin passed out until Steve would shake her awake to ask for directions.

And other than the sound of Steve’s quiet humming and soft snores coming from the kids, the van was quiet.

Eddie was out cold the second his head hit the makeshift pillow of his waded-up leather jacket, stirring occasionally to find a more comfortable position.

You were in the limbo between resting and actually sleeping, not completely awake and not completely asleep, when you felt something touch your side. You turned your head, smiling sleepily at the sight in front of you. Eddie, who was already close due to the big group and limited space you had in the back of the van, had moved to lay on his side, one arm curled under his arm to replace the jacket that was now thrown over his body lazily, his other hand poking out just barely grazing your side. You could feel the coldness of his fingers through the thin material of your tank top.

You sat up frowning on the lookout for another blanket, but it seemed that every one was being occupied. After a few minutes of trying to plan in your sleepy state, you finally decided on just sharing yours with him. It wasn’t huge, but you think it could fit over both of you if you shifted a little closer.

You gently pulled the leather jacket off him, setting it aside, grabbing his hand, and moving it closer to his own body as slowly as you could, smiling proudly when you managed to do so without disturbing him.

After shifting as close as you could without actually touching the boy, you took your time situating the blanket, making sure it covered him as much as possible. You finally laid back down yourself, too tired to be anxious about the little amount of space between the two of you.

You had just closed your eyes when another touch pulled you out of your almost-sleep. This time it was more than a few fingers. Eddie was now curled into your side, arm thrown over your waist, head resting on your collarbone without even thinking you started lazily ruining a hand through his curls, making him snuggle into you further. You felt your body relax against him, starting to pull you down into sleep, finally letting it take you. You lay there with a sleepy smile on your lips, content to lay like this the rest of the night. Even if you weren’t really sure where this would leave you, when you wake up, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Relaxing in the heat, his body was now suppling, finally closing your eyes to let sleep take you.

#eddie munson fics #eddie munson imagines #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x henderson!reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fic #steve harrington #robin buckley #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson

[suuuupernovaaa]

pxen

pxen [p’ɛn] n. functional clothing (item of)

Based on this request.

Lo'ak reaches out, touching the delicate woven poncho that his sister is wearing. It's not the kind of thing Lo'ak would typically notice, but something about it has caught his eye. There's a sparkle to it, something woven through the fabric that catches the light, very similar to the na'vi skin in the darkness of night.

"Where did you get this?" Lo'ak asks. Kiri looks down, and then shrugs.

"It was just with my stuff. It's really pretty, though. Tuk found one too... and mom."

"Huh," Lo'ak says, and his attention is then drawn to the carpet under his feet. A rug, brown and maroon, intricately woven and brand new. "This is new too, right?"

Kiri looks down, following her brother's gaze. "I think so. Looks clean."

"Huh," Lo'ak repeats, and then shrugs and moves on with his day.

xx

Even though I knew this day would come, I've been hoping to put it off for as long as possible. It isn't so much that I don't want to meet Neteyam's family, it's just that I'm worried to disappoint them.

As much as Neteyam hates it when I point it out, he's special. Not just because of the things I love about him, like his quiet sense of humor, his easy-going smile, his strength and his compassion.

He's special because of who he is, and who he was born to be. His birthright makes him special. Eldest son of Olo'eyktan. Were Neteyam ugly, harsh, stupid and cruel - the true opposite of himself - he would still be above my station.

He would still be too good for me.

And yet, here we are, walking hand in hand to meet his parents, so that he can introduce me as his betrothed. His intended mate. I had always told him I did not want his family to know about me, but never really told him why, until last night.

"Why now?" Neteyam had asked when I told him I was finally ready to meet his parents, moments after he took my hands into his and asked me to be his mate for life.

"Because I know now, truly that you love me. I don't need to be afraid anymore."

He had shaken his head and brushed a tear from my cheek. "I've loved you since the moment we met."

So now we approach their home, and even though I am secure in my relationship with Neteyam, I am nervous about being accepted into their family. He reassures me over and over that they will love me as he does, they will be thrilled for us, but it doesn't stop me from feeling sick to my stomach.

"Neteyam!" Taruk Makto is the first to greet him as we enter their tent, looking up from where he sits, and it's overwhelming to be in such close proximity to our clan leader. I bow my head as he looks from me to Neteyam and back at me again. His wife, Neytiri, is seated at his side, and turns her attention away from the arrows she is sharpening to look at us.

"Dad," Neteyam says, "Mom. I want to introduce you to Y/N."

He lets go of my hand, and places his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. After only a moment of hesitation, Neteyam's parents rise to their feet. As they do, I feel movement behind me, and glance to see Neteyam's siblings entering.

Kiri is wearing the shawl I made for her, and Tuk has a dressing wrapped around her tail that I crafted. Beneath our feet, I notice a rug I just finished a few days ago. It makes me feel a little more at ease and at home, to be surrounded by my creations.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Olo'eyktan says, and I touch my fingertips to my forehead, and then bring them down in a formal greeting. I repeat the gesture for Neteyam's mother.

"I've been, uh, spending a lot of time with Y/N. She's really wonderful. She's better on the loom than anyone else in the clan. She made the rug we stand on, and Kiri's poncho, and many other things I've brought home. She was just too, uh, shy to own up to her talent."

Neytiri turns around, looking on a nearby table, and grabs another poncho I made. This one is green, more earthy than the sparkly one Kiri is wearing.

"This, too?" Neytiri asks, and I nod. "This is beautiful. They're all beautiful. Truly, unlike anything I've seen. You made these?"

"I did," I reply a little nervously. "I wanted to give them to you myself but, since we hadn't be introduced, I had Neteyam bring them to you."

"I asked Y/N to be my mate last night, and she said yes," Neteyam says suddenly, and a hush falls over the room.

I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, wondering which way their reactions will go.

Confusion? Anger? Disappointment?

"Wow, that's insane!" comes a cry from Lo'ak, and he reaches out, extending his arms to me for a hug. "Another sister, I guess! I mean, I've got enough, but you seem okay." He wraps me in strong arms, and I return the hug, so grateful that he's broken the silence.

When Lo'ak releases me, I turn anxiously to see Neteyam's parents, and the scene is exactly what I would have dreamed up if I hadn't been too scared to imagine this day.

Netytiri holds her eldest son in her arms, and over his shoulder, she smiles serenely at me. Jake has his hands outstretched, one on his wife's shoulders, the other on Neteyam's.

"I wish you had brought her here sooner, so we could get to know her!" Neytiri says.

"You guys are scary," Neteyam replies, and his father laughs. Neytiri reaches out, extending a hand to me, and I place my hand in hers.

"I have known something was going on with my son. He is as happy as he has ever been, smiling like a moron from morning until night. I was waiting for this moment." She holds one of my hand in both of hers, grinning at me. "You are welcome in our family. Now we can give you gifts in return, for the beautiful things you have given us."

I shake my head, feeling embarrassed at the tears pricking behind my eyes. "No, you don't have to do that. I like making those things."

Our chief hugs me next, quickly and a little awkwardly, and the relief I feel is palpable.

Quick acceptance is a surprise. I had imagined at least a little resistance, but I hadn't counted on Neteyam's parents putting his health and happiness above all else.

How could I? I didn't know them, hadn't known that besides being Olo'eyktan and the next Tsahik, Neytiri and Jake were just parents who loved their children.

We leave the tent much later, after hours of talking and celebration, and before we get too far away, Neteyam pulls me into his arms and presses his lips to mine in what feels like a long overdue kiss.

"I knew they would love you, just as I do," he whispers, his lips still touching mine.

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #avatar twow

[sturniolocraft]

౨ৎ hot chocolate in march, dad!matt x reader !!

summary: when the kids demand hot chocolate, even when it's way past winter and it's beginning to get sunny, their dad is going to get them their hot chocolate.

a/n— first time writing publicly hi ^_^ this is kinda short but hopefully ppl don't mind?? i rlly enjoy writing for this au sooo expect more

matt was the first to wake, light barely peeking in from behind the curtains as small hands poked at his face. he stared blankly at his son's bright blue eyes, still bundled up in blankets with you exhausted and asleep on his chest.

"cody, it's—," he looked over at the broken alarm clock before huffing and unplugging his phone, reading the bright screen that said six am. "it's six. what're you doing, bud?"

cody looked around with a cheeky smile before gesturing to his younger sister, peeking into the bedroom, her eyes red from crying and clutching a stuffed eeyore. "eve is sad," he informed while trying to pull his dad out of bed. "she wants hot chocolate!"

matt didn't bother arguing with them, knowing that they'd win anyway. he presses a soft kiss to your temple before standing up, leaving a sloppy note explaining where him and the kids are, then he set off.

it was a hassle fixing his kids to look presentable. they had attempted to dress themselves already, anticipating the trip they'd take. cody was wearing his shoes on the wrong feet, and everly had mismatched shoes on along with her shirt backward.

he didn't bother with his appearance much, throwing on different pants and loading the kids up in the car with their own respective portions of cereal in their snack cups. he ignores the mess cody makes, deciding that he can just clean the car when you take the kids.

"so what kind of hot chocolate are we thinking?" he asks them, pulling into the parking lot. he drives around looking for a spot while listening to their chatter, cody says that they should get the ones with mini marshmallows and everly agrees, so that's what they'll search for.

cody ends up acting like a pirate as soon as he's set into the cart, "argh! matey, we need thy cocoa!" he says loudly, impatiently waiting for his dad to buckle up everly into the cart seat.

matt fumbles with cleaning the cart and buckling her in, but he complies with cody's pirate behavior. "aye aye, captain," he says with a seriousness that makes both kids laugh. it's barely seven as they cruise around the aisles of the store, searching for the brand that they want.

everly is the first to point it out, her little hand almost hitting his face when she points at it and says "daddy look!". the hot chocolate mix gets put into the cart, instantly being arranged neatly by cody, who has now declared himself captain of the cart.

as matt is about to wheel over to the check out, his phone buzzes with a text. he tells cody to calm down for a second, not that it works, and goes to answer the phone.

you:

it's almost 7:30 and march whyre u out buying hot cocoa ml??

matt:

eve cried to cody abt wanting some :(

you:

u big softie <3

matt smiled at his phone for a moment before trying to hide it when both kids began saying ew and telling him that he's in love, he couldn't hide it while he said that you're their mother and they should shush and love you too.

neither kid argued that, only pointing and giggling at him some more before pleading with him to get a toy. he doesn't talk to you about it later on how they ended up with a bag full. "they must've slipped them in while he wasn't looking." he says, but both kids end up just shaking their heads from behind him.

#button's writing tag #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo fluff

[smoooothoperator]

untouchable

18: Run Boy Run

Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)

same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle, life as lovers

Words: 4.8k

Warnings: fluff, races

a/n: next chapter is THE chapter!!!!! and of course I had to be a little delulu with this chapter

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Outfit? Check.

Make up? Check.

Bag? Check.

Phone… Oh, where did I leave it?

“Violet, keep calm” Lando chuckled, following me with eyes, watching how I walked around the hotel room.

“I can't find my phone!” I groaned, moving the cushions of the bed.

“Here” he smiled, grabbing it from God knows where. “Why are you nervous?”

I took a deep breath and looked at him, biting my lip, chewing it until I remembered I was wearing lipstick on it.

Why am I nervous? Maybe because of the fact that this will be the first time I'll be seen in the paddock, something who shall not be named really avoided the last few years. And not only that, this will be my first time walking with him in a place where we know there will be photographers. 

“I just… I don't know, what if I fall or something like that in front of every photographer? Then they will take pictures of that and I will be all over the internet” I said. “And not only that! Look at my outfit! And my bag! This is not sponsored or from a luxury brand! I bought this on Zara!”

“And you look absolutely gorgeous in this dress” he said, placing his hand on my shoulders and squeezing them softly, rubbing his thumbs on my skin. “Take a deep breath, okay? You are not going to fall because I'll be holding your hand all the time”

“You promise?”

“I promise” he smiled, pecking my lips softly.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around him and leaning on his body. 

The last few weeks were hard for me. After knowing what happened with Eloise, it was hard for me to move on. At first I was mad, with myself and with her, because I felt betrayed and somehow I was disappointed with myself because I couldn't reach her before what happened. I couldn't understand how that happened, how none of her family or mine called me. They knew I loved Eloise like a sister, and still no one told me. 

I was betrayed by my own family. How am I supposed to feel about that? How am I supposed to face them after that?

Lando stayed with me as much as he could while he had free time from his duties, and when he couldn't be with me, he ma onde sure that Pietra came to my home to make sure I wasn't alone. 

But it felt weird. I was heartbroken, but I didn't cry. And it made me feel disappointed with myself, because I felt that I wasn't grieving her, not how she deserves.

“Are you sure it's only that?” he whispered against my hair. 

“You know the answer…”

“I just want to know if you are okay, Violet…” he sighed. “I still remember what you said to me, that you are scared of getting in the car. But I wanted you to remember my promise, hm?”

“I know… it's your job, you have to do it anyway” I sighed. 

“You won't get rid of me that easily” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

I smile and close my eyes, kissing the skin of his neck softly and taking a deep breath of his perfume.

“Come on”

I took a deep breath and grabbed my bag, hanging it on my shoulder and walking out of the hotel room with him. I wasn't used to the fancy treatment, of staying in a Hilton hotel, sitting on a McLaren and arriving at a place where everyone has something higher that 100€ on their outfit. It was overwhelming, somehow, watching supercars driving near us, hearing the engine of the cars driving through the parking lot. 

“Today I have to record things for the media, if you want, you can stay in the hospitality and do some work” he said looking at me, placing his hand on my thigh and squeezing it softly. 

I nodded and smiled, placing my hand on top of his. His touch is always gentle, even on bed. He always holds me, letting me know he's there. He always needs to have a hand on me whenever I'm close and sometimes I find him doing it whenever he feels anxious. 

“Oh, sure. I was going to catch up a little with the girls. They said something about having a little brunch date” I said chuckling, watching him smile and nod.

When he parked his car I felt his hand squeezing my thigh three times, rubbing his thumb on my skin. I looked at him and smiled, leaning closer and kissing his cheek.

“Ready?” he asked. “Stay close to me, okay? Don't let go my hand”

“As if I was going to” I joked, rolling my eyes.

When we got out of the car he immediately walked towards me, holding my hand and guiding me.

I have been in the paddock before, I was in one a month ago while I went with him to the testing of the new car. But somehow, this time it felt completely different. Walking hand in hand with him, hearing the people chorus his name and mine, calling us… it felt way more different.

“You can go take pictures if you want” I said, watching how some of the people behind the barriers were calling him.

“You sure?” he smiled weakly, making me nod and receive a kiss on my cheek before he walked away.

I saw him taking pictures with them, talking with them and even grabbing the gifts they had for him. I was so proud of him, of who he is, of what he achieves every time he comes to the paddock.

“Let's go” he smiled, holding my hand and walking towards the scanners.

“What did they give you?” I asked him, looking at what he was holding with his other hand.

“Oh, I think some bracelets as always” he smiled. “They just make them for me, it's like the ones they exchange on those Taylor Swift's concerts”

“That's cute” I laugh softly.

“I have a lot of them back in Monaco” he laughed. 

I smile looking at him, scanning my ID pass after him. I looked around, smiling. This is a whole different thing, a whole different world. 

I once brought him to my work and to my world, and now he is the one that is bringing me to his job.

His smile immediately changed the moment he heard the mechanics building the cars, when he recognized the people from every team. And the moment he held my hand tight made my smile look like his.

When people walked towards us and he introduced me to them as his partner, I could help but feel the pride in his voice. He placed his arm around my waist and then his hand on my hip, pulling me close to him, rubbing his thumb over my skin to keep me calm.

“So she is the famous Violet, hm?” I heard someone behind us.

“Hey, cabrón” Lando smiled, looking at his friend.

I smiled looking at him, watching how the Spaniard smiled and took a step closer to me, placing his hand on my shoulder and kissing my cheek two times.

“It's about damn time you two are together, huh?” he joked, teasing Lando. “How long did it take you? Years?”

“Ah, fuck off!” Lando groaned, pinching Carlos. 

I laughed softly, watching them talk, and never stopped feeling Lando's hand on my hip.

“Violet!”

I turned around, smiling when I recognized the sound of Lily's voice walking towards me next to Alex. I smiled looking at Lando, kissing his cheek before walking away towards Lily, hugging her.

“News fly around! You have a lot of things to tell us, hm?” she smirked, linking her arm with mine and walking. “Since when are you two dating?”

“Well, since Christmas actually” I smiled proudly, remembering that morning in his childhood room and how I confessed my love for him. “I think I had some kind of feelings for him after all. It was easy falling for him”

“Well, then I guess a brunch is a proper way to welcome you as a new wag” she said.

We walked towards the paddock club after showing our passes, going upstairs and being welcomed by a glass of mimosas.

“Finally!” Carmen laughed, walking towards me and hugging me. “George and I made a bet to see how long it took him to ask you out. I guess I owe him some money”

“No way” I laughed, shaking my head. “All of you knew?”

“It was pretty obvious” Lily said, shrugging her shoulders. “He even asked us recently for some tips for you so you could get used to this”

“I have to say that I was surprised by that, by the way” Carmen nodded. 

“Oh…” I smiled softly, blushing, about what we talked about after we made our relationship public.

“Yeah, true” Lily nodded. “He came to us in the last race of the season and told us his plan. It was pretty cute hearing him talk about what he planned for that ski trip and all”

“Well, I think it went according to his plan” I smiled. 

After all, he made me fall for him during the trip.

Standing inside the McLaren garage during the practices was something different to what it feels like during the qualifying.

During practice, the mechanics and engineers do everything they can to take every data possible during an hour, making the drivers come and go from the garage. It's noisy, hearing them change things to the car and put different tyres.

But during the qualifying you can feel the tension, the anxiety, the hunger of having a good position for the race.

Every move is crucial, every waste of fuel is important as well as the time they let the drivers get out of the garage.

“God, I'm feeling nauseous from the anxiety around the garage” I whispered to Lily, Oscar's girlfriend. “It’s always like this?”

“You'll get used to it” she chuckled. “They just want to do the best. You saw the results of the practices, they can be on top if they aim for it”

I nodded and smiled weakly, looking at the screens.

Yesterday, when we came back from the track after the practices, I met a new side of Lando. His position after the second practice, finishing last, because of a mistake he made. Somehow, even if he was conscious of how good the car was working, he was too hard on himself.

“I just hate it when I make mistakes and I know that I could do a better job” he sighed, laying on the bed looking at the ceiling. “The car was feeling good, this time I know we can have a good pace during the whole weekend… But the problem is who drives it”

“Hey, don't be too harsh on yourself” I sighed, sitting next to him and looking down into his eyes. “You are driving amazing, okay? This morning you just put the car on the top 3. What happened at the second practice was nothing bad, the team understood it and they didn't complain. You did a great job”

“I could have done a better job…” he sighed.

“And you will. Tomorrow is another day. You have another practice and then the quali” I smiled. “Everyone in the garage is happy with how the cars are doing, I can feel that. Just trust your guts, the car can take you where you want it to go”

After trying to put some hope and common sense in him last night, watching him reach the fifth position in the morning made me feel proud. It made me feel listened. 

The people inside the garage clapping made me smile, letting go of a breath I didn't know I was holding and clapping too, watching how the mechanics walked out to go to their cars.

Somehow I was lost, following Lily around, hoping that she knew what was coming next. We walked out of the garage through the corridor that goes to the paddock, waiting for Lando and Oscar to come to us.

Watching cameras around made me feel nervous, observes. I can't make mistakes, I shouldn't. I know I'm the new wag, everyone's eyes are on me. 

“Hey” I smile, watching him walk towards me with the upper half of his suit hanging around his hips.

“Hey, love” he smiled, letting go of the straw of his bottle. He smiled, placing his hand on my hip as I took a step closer to him, cupping his cheek with my hand.

“I'm so proud of you” I said, pressing my lips against his, feeling his smile grow. “You did an amazing job”

“Yeah, we are in a good place for tomorrow” he nodded, making me smile and kiss his cheek softly. “I'm so happy with it”

Watching his smile made me smile too, ignoring the flashes around us. Right, they search every little gesture to find mistakes and something to talk about.

“Tomorrow will be amazing, I'm sure” I whisper in his ear. 

I felt him smile, hugging me tighter and hiding his face on my neck. I felt him take deep breaths, leaning on me some seconds longer.

“I have to do interviews and briefing” he whispered. “Wait for me in my room, yeah?”

I smile and nod, cupping his cheek and kissing him again, tasting the salty flavor of his sweat again. I smiled and looked into his eyes when he ran his hand up my back, patting me three times before letting me go.

“Good results! Right, girls?” Zak said behind us, standing between Lily and I while watching both papaya drivers walk towards the media pen. “It's good to have lucky charms in the garage, huh?”

“Yeah” Lily and I laughed softly.

And somehow, what he said made me feel good, part of the team. And the results after every race indeed made me feel way more proud.

Both cars were going amazing in the races, staying in the top 10, bringing points and big smiles to the faces of every mechanic and engineer. 

I tried to go to every race to support him, to stand in the garage and be his lucky charm, to watch him drive even if my own heart beat at an unhealthy rhythm every time he drove close to a wall. But he always came back, he always came back to me after every race to hug me and kiss me, asking me to help him put the bracelet I gave him.

“Why don't you keep it during the races?” he asked, getting dressed in the room of Bahrain's paddock.

“Huh?” I frown, looking up from my phone, watching how he gave me the twin of the bracelet I have.

“We can make it our ritual” he said. “Kevin has his daughter who gives him the gloves and puts down his visor, Pierre has his girlfriend to kiss him on the helmet every time he gets in the car. Why don't we make this our thing?”

“That's cute” I chuckled, blushing. “So you want me to keep it everytime you go into the car and then put it on your bracelet when you come back?”

“Exactly!” he laughed. 

“Cameras will be recording us every time” I laughed, putting his bracelet next to mine. “We will give them a sugar rush”

“Do I look like I care?” he smirked. “Let's give the fans some material for their edits. I just want to come back to my girl, let them mind their own business”

Lando always told me that Austria was his favorite track of the calendar. He had his first podium here and he always had good results during that race, and since this season was giving him good results, he wanted the best in this track.

But even if he wanted it with all his heart, his self criticism was worse during this week. He was so hungry for the victory that he wasn't able to celebrate the good things, he only focused on every mistake he made.

“I just don't get it! I don't understand why the car is not doing what I want to do! And to make it worse, the FIA is being a pain in the ass with all those deleted times” he groaned, getting out of the car after the first practice. “If I wasn't that stupid, I could have been P1 on this practice!”

“Lando, come on” Max sighed. “It didn't only happen to you… And the results of this practice are not realistic, come on. They deleted so many times that the ones that stayed on the top 3 are old laps…”

“Exactly” I sighed, placing my hand on his arm. “Just look at the list, why would both Haas be first and second?”

“Because they didn't make mistakes like me” he groaned, grabbing his bottle of water and drinking it. “Whatever, I have to do interviews. See you later”

I sighed, watching how he followed his PR manager, not even kissing me before walking away. 

“He's too stressed” Max sighed, shaking his head. 

“And being too hard on himself” I said. “If he only saw the times… he did even a better time than Verstappen”

“Yeah, but you know him. He only focuses on what he does wrong” he sighed. “He can't enjoy the good results until he sees them”

The second practice didn't go better, at least not from his point of view. He had the pace, he was always leading the list. But only because of the track limits, his times got deleted. His engineer could feel how annoyed he was every time he told him that the time was deleted, and the mood in the garage wasn't better.

The rest of the day he was quiet, moody. He let Jon drive the car while he sat in the backseats with me. He ate dinner in silence, looking to a spot in the wall in front of him and blinking from time to time.

“Okay, this has to stop”

Lando looked at me, snapping out of his trance. Max took a deep breath and sighed, looking at both of us.

“Can the Lando I love come back?” I frowned looking at him. “Because right now, the one that is sitting next to me is someone I don't recognize”

“Violet…” Max sighed. “Not now…”

“Not now? Then when?” I frown, leaving the fork on the plate. 

“Okay, okay” Max sighed, raising his hands and sighing. “I think it's my time to go to my room”

I sighed, watching Max get up from the floor of our room and grab the plate with the food he ordered from room service. Lando was looking down at his own food, taking a deep breath.

“See you tomorrow” Max sighed, before closing the door behind him.

I took a deep breath and turned to face Lando. He was looking down at his hands, playing with his fingers.

“What is going on inside of this head?” I sighed, placing my hand on his nape, playing with his curls.

“I don't know” he sighed, and by the way he sighed I knew he was tired. “I just… It's like I'm losing control. I make mistake after mistake. I feel that I'm rolling down a hill and I can't stop it”

“You are just so deeply focused into the bad thoughts, Lando” I sighed, holding his hand. “Have you seen the screens with the data during the practice? I may not understand how it works, but I know that when the numbers are green and with a minus sign in front of the number it means that the times are good”

“But-”

“You were flying Lando” I said. “I came to all the races, and I swear this is the first one I saw that you were faster than Verstappen!”

“But I still get out of the track” he sighed.

“And that's something you can fix! Tomorrow you have the last practice. You know your weak spots in this track, you know you can be on pole, but you can see it just yet” I said, holding his hands. “I believe in you, Lando. I really think you have a chance. Just please, believe in it too”

I don't know if my speech worked, but the next day during the last practice he was more talkative with his engineers, and he tried everything to be inside of the track. In fact, he had good times and barely got them deleted, making him be first at the end of the practice.

But then quali came. 

“Now should be the right time to pray” Max sighed next to me. 

“Oh believe, I'm praying to every God I know to make him be on pole” I whisper. “And to make Verstappen stay away from him”

“Naughty girl!” Max laughed. 

“I just want him to make a mistake! For once! It's not much to ask” I laughed softly.

Everyone was tense, hoping that both papaya drivers escaped the sensors of the FIA. No one wanted to clap or celebrate, not wanting to jinx anything. And when the time for the Q1 ended and both of the McLaren drivers stayed out of the elimination zone, everyone relaxed for a little amount of time. And it happened again during Q2, watching the cars drive fast and barely getting out of the track, not crossing the limits.

“Looks like whatever you talked with him about worked a little” Max whispered leaning on me. “How did you do that?”

“My charm” I smirked slightly. “And a promise of something you don't want to know about”

“Wha- Ew gross!” he gasped when he saw my smirk.

I shook my head and laughed softly, focusing again on the screens, watching Lando's untouchable time staying on top of everyone's.

He can do it. He can have a pole.

“Come on, come on…” Max and I prayed, holding each other's hand and holding our breaths, waiting for the last of the top ten to make his lap. 

And then it happened. 

The garage exploded with people clapping, cheering. I hugged Max and jumped with bim, celebrating that he finally did it. Everyone ran to receive him, to watch him get out of the car and celebrate his pole. I went there, grabbing the bracelet and having it ready in my hand to put it around his wrist.

“I did it!” Lando gasped, walking towards the team and towards me, holding my cheeks with his hand. 

“I didn't want to say it, but… Told ya” I laughed, watching him shake his head.

That was just the beginning.

Next day. Race day. 

Having pole position changed his mood for better, and somehow I could feel it with how he woke up. 

Normally, during races, he's grumpy the moment the alarm starts. He groans and holds me tighter, hiding his face on my nape. 

But today he woke up with a smile, pressing soft kisses on my shoulder as well as rubbing my stomach softly.

“Morning” I whisper, smiling. “Ready for today?”

“Oh yeah” he said, smiling. “Thank you”

“Hm? Why?” I frown, turning around and looking at him.

“Because you are always putting me in place” he sighed. “Always making me come back to Earth when I'm being an immature idiot”

“You are too harsh on yourself, Lando” I sighed. “Look what you can do when you believe in yourself! You've got a pole! You have a chance of winning this race, I believe in you”

“Thank you, baby” he smiled, kissing my forehead.

The moment we walked through the paddock everyone wanted Lando's attention, everyone wanted a picture with him. Everyone was congratulating him, patting his back and wishing him the best of luck.

“I think I won't need it, I have my lucky charm in the garage” he always said.

Time went fast, and before I knew it I was standing next to Max in the garage, watching the screens and waiting for the countdown to end, watching how Lando stopped the car after the formation lap, waiting for the lights to go off.

“He can do it, right?” I whisper.

“He has high possibilities” Max nodded. “If he has a good start he can keep the position. Max is away, even if his car is fast he has to overtake most of the other cars. And behind Lando is Oscar, as well as Lewis and Fernando. They are good with defense”

“But still, he can't relax” I sighed.

“He won't, I bet”

The race was hard. 71 laps of pure tension. Every movement was important, this time more than ever. The pit stops had to be fast, the overtakes, the defenses. Everyone in the garage was in silence, focused on the papaya car leading the race and the one following it. 

“God, I need to pee” I mumbled, not taking my eyes away from the screens.

“Go, I'll tell you if something happened while you are there” Max said, nudging my side with his elbow.

I took a deep breath and nod, walking to Lando's room and getting in the bathroom. I grabbed my phone, going through the messages and sighing when I saw the same notification as always.

Missed calls from unknowns (6)

I sigh, shaking my head and blocking those numbers again. Same as always. Maybe those are some spam calls.

When I came back next to Max there were only 5 laps left. And Lando was still leading.

“He will do it, right?” I said, taking a deep breath. 

“Oh yes” he smirked. 

It was happening. It was finally happening. I saw the mechanics getting up from the chairs, running to the wall when the last lap started, waiting to celebrate with him.

“Violet!” I heard Zak call me. “You want to come say something?”

“Can I?” I gasped, looking at him and then at Max.

He nodded and I just walked towards the engineers wall, connecting my headset and waiting for Lando to cross the finish line.

“Lando Norris, you are a race winner!” I exclaimed, feeling tears in my eyes when I heard his cries. 

“Violet? Is that you?”

“You did it! Baby, you did it! I'm so so proud”

“Oh I'm going to cry more!” he laughed. “We did it! God! I love you!”

When he parked the car behind the 1 he got out of the car, standing on top of the halo. Every crew member of McLaren was there, cheering, screaming. 

He did it. He won a race!

“Violet!” I heard him scream, jumping out of the car and running towards me, taking off his helmet. “I did it! Oh my God!”

“You did it!” I giggle, cupping his cheeks and wiping away the little tears. 

“I'm going to kiss you” he laughed, pulling me closer to him and pressing his lips on mine. “God, I love you so fucking much”

Without Eloise in the picture he knew he only had one person left.

He tried to come up with a plan, something that can eliminate him forever, making sure that Violet will be only his.

During his walks around her neighborhood, he discovered that they are living together. He saw his car parked in front of the building. He saw their figures dancing in front of the window. He saw them having dinner on the small balcony during hot days of spring. And now both of them were in every post about his win, with pictures of him kissing her after he got out of the car.

What did she see in him? He has to free her. He has to make sure she's safe and out of whatever spell he put on her.

And that's what he's going to do.

He recognized one of Lando's cars in front of the building, his Audi RSQ8. He always hated the amount of cars he had, how careless he was buying one whenever he wanted like he was buying new clothes. 

He considered many options, but the one that worked before was the winner: manipulate the brakes.

It was easy, he did it with Eloise's car and the results were impressive, with her losing control of the car thanks to the frozen road and then trying to brake when she saw she lost control of the car. 

Why not try it again? Maybe he can make Lando lose control while he drives. And the funniest part of it? That it goes slowly, barely noticeable, like a slow and agonizing death. 

He only has to wait. 

Wait and see the results of his masterpiece.

taglist

@elisysd @racinggirl @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @landoyesrizz @lorarri @bellwhysomean @leptitlu @aphroditeisamilf @brekkers-whore @copper-boom @sideboobrry11 @alltoomaples @f1madison @elijahslover @silkenthusiasts @chonkybonky @summerslike11 @randomgirlnumber-13 @is-just-a @whentheautumnleavesfall @malynn @mycenterfold @barackosteaa @izzy-marvel @ssprayberrythings @ophcelia

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 serie #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 drabble #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one fanfic #formula one x reader #formula one fanfiction #lando norris #lando norris x oc #lando norris blurb #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 fic #mclaren

[trollielollie]

Did I messily sketch this. Yes. Do I care, nope. Messy messy is a yessy yessy. Anyways (and these head cannons apply to normal John-Dory as well. I just drew genderbend instead) I feel Juniper was alone for the most of her young young years. Sure she head Grandpa Rosebud, but he way busy. And her parents? Adventuring. Then when Sandy came along, Juniper did everything for her younger sister, she was infatuated by the fact that she was an older sister. Then Clover came and as much as Juni loved her, they seamed to butt head more often than not. Where Sandy was as close to Clover as Juni was to Sandy. Then came Fawn and the family seamed to shift again, apart they sung beautifully. But together, they were amazing. And Grandpa Rosebud saw that, so nudged the idea that they should form a band. Of course, they girls jumped at the idea.

Random headcannons-

-hand me downs are a big tradition when the trolls were in the troll tree, they didn’t have enough resources to make brand new clothes every day. So there were baby clothes that blossom (branch) would wear that belonged to his grandma.

-I stan the trols with tails headcannons. Why, I read a fanfic a while back and the author gave pop trolls tails and claws for climbing trees. I liked it, so the tails are for balance.

-the heart glasses belonged to their mother, who gave it to Juni when she dropped Sandy’s egg off.

#trolls #art #trolls band together #brozone #john dory #spruce #clay #trolls floyd #genderbend #trolls headcanons #Shinning Sis-Stars

[yandere-writer-momo]

Anything nsfw for Jacquline Hanma (genderbend Jack)? I’m sorry but I would totally call her mommy 🫡

I would also call her mommy and politely ask her to crush me.

You are Jack’s childhood friend

But why have just fem Jack when I can make the whole cast female? 😈 Why have one bitch when you can have five

Minors DNI

TW: Uncomfortable themes, wlw, and yandere behavior

🌶️ Yandere Baki Head Canons 🌶️

Genderbend AFAB Baki x oblivious AFAB reader

NSFW and SFW edition

Jacqueline Hanma (Jack)

Jacqueline was a rough and gruff woman. She had no interest in relationships of any kind. You were an exception. You were her childhood friend and rock. And you followed her to Japan to see her fight like the good girl you were

At first she thought she’d be satisfied with just being friends but then her competition started having eyes for you (especially Kaori). They were hogging all your time and attention and Jackie couldn’t stand it

Jackie started spending the night more and she started being handsier. Jackie would hold your hand in public more and drape her arms over you whenever the others were staring. They needed to understand that you were hers

Jackie began making you wear her clothes more often. Large hoodies that hung past your knees and shirts that smelled just like Jackie’s signature woodsy scent. It was a small sign of ownership

Jackie had a love/ hate relationship with your obliviousness. It was nice that you didn’t understand the others saw you romantically but it was also bad because you didn’t see her romantically either

When Kaori invites you out for more dates, Jackie is the first to make a physical move on you and that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. It’s an all out war then. Jackie would corner you to show you how she truly felt

Jackie would press her lips against yours and push your body deep into the mattress. Your whines and whimpers only egging her on. She’d convince you this is what women do when they’re in love. And then she’d devour you. Your hands tangled in her short blonde hair and her hands grasping the back of your legs. You’re just in for a long night until Jackie’s had her fill. The blonde is madly in love with you and she’d do anything to make sure you never abandoned her

Bambi Hanma (Baki)

Bambi is Jackie’s cute, younger half sister. She is so cute and feminine. How could you not feel sisterly towards her? You try forming a bond with the younger Hanma and she latches onto you immediately. Bambi cannot get enough of praise. She has never had anyone be so kind to her like you without them wanting anything in return… how could she not cling to you?

Your motherly energy was so soothing to her. She was a sucker for your praise. Tell her how cute she is! Isn’t she so cute? Bambi is super strong, right? Isn’t Bambi such a good girl?

Bambi would want to go shopping together so her wardrobe can match yours. You two are wearing matching clothes today? What a coincidence!

If that’s not your thing then Bambi would settle for matching scrunchies. Look! You two have the same scrunchies on… you wouldn’t even notice if she switched them out right?

If you invited Bambi over for a sleepover, she’d die. The moment you head into the bathroom, she is burying her face into your pillow to inhale your scent. Bambi would be drunk off of it. She was finally in your home and everything smelled liked you… she could hardly contain herself.

If you allowed her to take a shower at your place, she is using your soap. She’ll memorize the brands so she can buy them. Bambi wants to smell like you too! So when you two are apart, she can be comforted by it

If you cuddled with her as the two of you slept side by side, it would only further her delusions. Bambi would bury her face in your chest and inhale your scent. Sometimes you’d wake up with little marks on your chest and neck. Hell, your nipples would be engorged and sore. Occasionally there’d be hand shape bruises on your hips too but maybe you hit your hip on something? You were quite clumsy after all. You’d never suspect sweet little Bambi to be suckling on your soft skin while you slept

Bambi would put your clothes on the next day and encourage you to wear hers. She’ll then make a comment of how cute you two look… don’t you look cute together? Just like a couple

Hanayama Kaori (Hanayama Kaoru)

Kaori is a player. She approached you to use you to get Jackie to fight her. But you were really kind to her… and your genuineness touched her heart. How could she not want you?

Kaori used to fish for sympathy from you so you’d trigger Jackie’s jealousy, but your reassurances and compliments were so genuine. Not to mention how soft you were compared to her muscular body. Kaori’s icy heart was melting and it was all because of you

You sealed your fate when you traced the scars over her face and told her how cool you thought she was. How tough and beautiful she was. For the first time in Kaori’s life, she was the one who was flustered

Kaori began to buy you gifts. She felt guilty for trying to use you and wanted to makeup for it, but she felt like it wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough. Kaori was about to spiral until you reassured her that it was okay. That you enjoyed spending time with her and she didn’t need to get you gifts

Kaori decided to invite you out on dates then. She’d buy you outfits (you have no idea how she knew your size) and she’d take you on expensive dinner and cruise dates.

Kaori really enjoyed taking you to spas and bath houses. She loved your body and she’d come up with all kinds of excuses to touch you. But when given an inch, she wanted a mile. It wasn’t uncommon for her to squeeze your chest or hips at the bathhouse nor was it uncommon for her to press hot kisses on the back of your neck. You’d playfully swat her away, oblivious to how she was serious about bedding you. And Kaori doesn’t take kindly to your rejections

Once you’re back in your shared hotel room, you’re placed on a bathroom counter as her fingers are buried deep in your warmth. Your hands grasping her scarred biceps as she shushed you with her skilled lips. You’re a panting, crying mess under her as she brought you to four orgasms back to back. You’ll have hickies all over your neck and chest from her. She’s a very possessive and dominant lover… not to mention the strap collection at her house.

Kaori will never not stop taking you on lavish trips, giving you luxurious gifts, or giving you the best orgasms of your life. She wanted to show you a life of pleasure and luxury. It could all be yours too, all you had to do was accept her and she’d whisk you away

Kaori wasn’t quite willing to take no as an answer though anyways….

Orochi Kasumi (Orochi Katsumi)

This cutie was so shy to approach you at first. She’s been so focused on training more than relationships so she’s quite awkward at first. She stumbles over her words and blushes a lot, but you were patient with her… she quickly developed a crush on you. And from there, it became worse.

Kasumi liked to take you out on simple dates. She loved getting coffee with you or going on walks. Kasumi was quite the tomboy so she usually dresses up in flannels, jackets, hoodies, and tees. You helped her express her more feminine side and she was so flustered from your compliments. She wasn’t used to it…

You taught her how to wax her brows and even how to put on makeup. It took everything in her not to grab your hips when you sat on her lap to do her eyeliner. Kasumi wanted to kiss you so badly… it was driving her crazy

Kasumi enjoyed when you wore her hoodies and flannels. They hung on your smaller frame and she thought it was so cute… and that’s when the pictures began. Kasumi began to want to take so many pictures with you or just pictures if you. She couldn’t get enough

Kasumi began to up her skincare and self care game. How would you like to come over for a face mask and to paint each other’s nails? She’ll even trim your nails for you (she keeps your nail clippings).

Kasumi blushes so much when you hold her hand. It’s almost like you’re a real couple… Kasumi loves the idea of being your girlfriend… maybe even wife one day? Oh lord… that would be perfect… The two of you could adopt a baby! Or maybe you two could make a lab baby with your DNA’s? Kasumi loved the idea of starting a family with you

Kasumi whimpers and cries

Kasumi begins to collect things from you. Hair from your hairbrush, a spoon you used for icecream, and her favorite… your lipstick. Kasumi would lick the tip of it when she was feeling especially depraved. It was like an indirect kiss from you… Katsumi’s feelings were overwhelming

One day when you’re over at her house, you trip and fall into her, her large chest pressed up against yours in such a scandalous position… Kasumi pressed her lips to yours right away. You made no move to get up right away, so you must felt the same way. She’s super delusional

Kasumi is clumsy compared to the others. She’s scared and new to all of this, but she makes up for it in eagerness. She’s eager to learn what makes you feel good. What you like. Just tell her and she’ll do it. Kasumi is a quick learner

She’s an amazing girlfriend to have… so long as you don’t go through the shoe box under her bed. Her collection of you is in there and it’s always growing… Kasumi just can’t get enough of you! Please don’t think she’s weird… she’s never felt this way about anyone before!

Kaioh Ruolan (Kaioh Retsu)

Now she started off as a friend to you. She’s much older than you and she’s very elegant. You really admire her and her composure. Ruolan is flattered by your admiration

Ruolan is very calm and enjoys reading. She invites you to tag along to enjoy books and tea with her. Ruolan also enjoys gardening and she’ll tell you about every plant she has. You really admire her patience in that hobby. She’s so mature… Ruolan is a mom friend

The two of you will do yoga together and talk about everything. You find yourself venting to her since she’s so reliable. Ruolan just gives you a smile and gives you great advice.

Over time Ruolan notices how tired you look and you tell her about how strange your friends have been lately. She quickly takes you under her wing and allows you to sleep peacefully at her place. Ruolan makes sure you get plenty of rest and that you’re eating properly. She’s such an amazing friend

Ruolan is the most aware that her feelings for you are not normal so she tries to hold them at bay for as long as she can… until she sees the marks on your neck. That’s when she begins to manipulate you. None of your friends were good for you… just look how rough they are! Ruolan would never be rough with you… ever

Ruolan allows you to be with her as much as you want (she’s extremely persuasive). She helps bathe you and makes you home made meals. Ruolan is an amazing cook. You’re impressed at her domestic skills.

Ruolan will have you lay your head on her thighs as she reads to you. She’s so relaxing to be around…

Ruolan will ask you if she’s allowed to kiss you. She’s not an animal like the others. She would never do anything you don’t want to

Ruolan is so very gentle with you. Her kisses are soft and sweet… and she tastes like tea. Her touches make you want more…

Ruolan makes love to you. It’s all about your pleasure with her. There’s no marks and no aches. The whole thing is gentle and a learning experience for you both… she has the ability to calm you like no other

#baki the grappler #baki hanma #baki son of ogre #baki x reader #baki the grappler x reader #yandere baki #yandere #yandere imagine #yandere fic #female reader #Baki AU #Baki #baki gaiden #grappler baki #baki headcanons #baki dou #genderbend #Yandere genderbend #yandere lesbian #wlw

[beautifuldisaster88]

A Match Made In Hell

Pairings: Dark!Rafe x Female!Reader (She comes off sweet and innocent but is actually a psychopath)

Summary: Rafe Cameron fell in love with the OBX's sweet and innocent kook princess, but what was it about her that drew him in? When she turns out to be just as psychotic (if not more than Rafe) as him, what will happen? Will the once peaceful and quiet Kildare Island be turned upside down? Will anyone find out the truth about her? Or will her sweet and innocent persona be enough to fool an entire island?

Warnings: Dark themes, mentions of torture and murder, murder, mentions of weapons, weapon use, details of torture and murder, unprotected sex P in V, knife play, mention of branding, drug use, to sum it all up they're both psychopaths! Read at your own risk.

A/N: I used the name Sky/Skylar, but you can picture reader however you want. Other than describing how she dresses and acts, there isn't much physical description of her. Fair warning this is longer than I originally planned for it to be . Guess you could say I went overboard with this shit. However, I did try to shorten it more, deciding to end it where I did, otherwise it probably would have turned into a full blown story.

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!!!!MDNI!!! 18+

With Rafe Cameron, what you see is what you get. The eldest of the three Cameron siblings, Rafe was unhinged, a psychopath. From trying to drown his sister, Sarah, to murdering Sheriff Peterkin, beating those dirty Pogues to a pulp any time he had the chance, pulling a gun on his dad, to actually shooting Sarah. The list of crimes that the Cameron male had committed only continued to pile up. The good thing about being a Cameron? It meant that Rafe got away with murder, literally. He was a true psychopath and everyone knew it.

Then you have Skylar Rose, Outer Banks sweetheart, the kook princess. The Rose family held just as much power on the island as the Cameron family, if not more. Skylar or Sky as everyone called her was the complete opposite of Rafe. She was the definition of innocent, wearing white flowy summer dresses, nails always perfectly manicured, flowers usually adorned in her wavy beach wave hair, makeup always perfectly done and perfectly applied glossy lips. The Rose girl always had a smile on her face that was brighter than the sun, greeting everyone that she passed on the island, both Kooks and Pogues. If someone needed help, Sky was the first to lend a hand, no questions asked. She loved babies, animals, stuffed animals, anything that was pink and sparkly. She was the Outer Banks angel, untouched by any guy. That was until Rafe Cameron made her his own.

You see, under all those innocent layers laid something dark and twisted. While others only saw her as innocent, Rafe knew that there was more to Skylar Rose, and he made it his mission to bring out her true nature, which took less persuasion than he expected.

The couple was trouble together, feeding each other their psychotic desires behind closed doors. So, what happens when people start going missing on the small island and bodies start turning up? Normally, the Cameron men, Rafe and his father Ward would be the first that the people of Kildare County would blame, but with Sky now in the picture, it left the residents of the island puzzled. They truly believed that Sky had Rafe under control. Oh, how wrong they were.

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It was a typical Friday night on Figure Eight. Rafe had convinced Topper to throw a party at his place, bitching that Ward refused to let the Cameron male throw anymore of his parties at Tannyhill, at least when Ward was home. With Sky giving the Thornton male her sweetest and most innocent smile and pleading eyes, Topper folded within seconds. Both Rafe and Sky knew that she had everyone on the island wrapped around her dainty perfectly manicured finger.

The Thornton house was crowded with kook party goers, music blaring throughout every room. The liquor was overflowing and the drugs at anyone's disposal. It was your typical kook party. Sweaty and dancing bodies everywhere, people hooking up wherever the fuck they pleased.

Sky was currently perched on Rafe's lap, curled up against her boyfriend as he made his usual drug deals, white powdery lines scattered across the glass table in front of them. She was dressed in her usual attire, wearing a white babydoll dress that Rafe bought her that morning, adorned with thigh high stockings with pink bows at the top, knowing how much her boyfriend loved when she wore those damn stockings. Her hair was worn down that night, small pink and white glittery flowers throughout. It was no secret that Sky was the hottest girl at the party. Hell, she was the hottest girl on the island, but everyone knew she belonged to Rafe, meaning she was off limits.

"I'm telling you man, this yayo is top of the line shit. Best you'll ever have. We just got a new shipment, cut straight from Columbia. You won't find this shit anywhere else on the island, yeah?" The Cameron male said to the group of kooks surrounding them, each one reaching for their wads of cash.

Rafe possessively squeezed her bowtie stocking clad thigh, not liking the way that Chad was eying his girl. His jaw tightened, eyes immediately darkening. The squeeze he had on Sky's thigh was so tight that it was sure to leave bruises.

"Yo, man. Ain't you afraid of corrupting little miss innocent with this shit, Rafe? I mean, has she even seen this shit in person before?" Asked Chad, your typical frat kook.

Chad might have been too stupid to realize but Rafe couldn't stand the asshole, his eyes always on Sky. The Cameron boy wanted nothing more than to slam Chad's head through the glass table, but this was business, so Rafe tried his damnedest to remain professional, not wanting to lose out on a deal.

"You do realize who the fuck she belongs to, yeah? Baby Girl here might be innocent, but that don't mean she's fucking stupid. How 'bout you worry 'bout your fuckin' self and let me worry about my girl, yeah? Yeah."

Sky felt her boyfriend tense up, knowing that he had one thing on his mind. Murder.... and Chad was tonight's victim.

"Not yet, Rafey. His time will come later." Sky purred in his ear, making the blonde nod. No one had ever been able to keep Rafe under control, except his Skylar.

Getting back into business mode, Rafe let out a dark laugh, playfully smacking his girlfriend's thigh as he looked from her to Chad.

"Shit, she might be innocent but you best believe my girl here knows all the ends and outs of this shit. Who the fuck you think packages everything and cuts the shit up so perfectly? You're looking at my business partner, man. I taught her everything she knows.Y'gonna buy some or just eye fuck my angel, huh?"

Chad's eyes immediately widened and he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, quickly peeling his eyes away from Sky as she giggled into Rafe's neck. He might not be the brightest crayon in the box, but he knew not to piss off Rafe Cameron, especially when it came to his girl, no matter how badly Chad wished he could fuck Sky.

"Uh, yeah... Yeah, give me 3 G's worth, man. I-I wasn't eye fucking your girl, Rafe, I wouldn't do that. Everyone knows that Skylar belongs to you. I... I wouldn't do that, man."

Rafe snorted, knowing damn well he knew what he saw. Still, he reached for a stack of little baggies that were filled with the white substance. Before he handed the merchandise to Chad, Sky held out a dainty hand, motioning for Chad to place the money in it. He hesitantly looked from her to Rafe, earning a nod of approval from the Cameron male. Once the cash was in her hand, Skylar quickly counted it.

"It's all there, Rafey. Give Chad his goodies so that he can be on his way. Even though I know Chaddy here could have at least bought 5 G's Worth, but he chose the cheap route this time. Oh well." Skylar hummed, shrugging her shoulders as she placed the wad of cash in her little pink bunny shaped backpack that Rafe had bought for her. While Rafe handled dealing the cocaine, she handled the money. The pair being the perfect business partners.

Rafe threw the stack of baggies tied around a pink rubberband (Skylar's doing, of course) at Chad, giving him a death stare.

Rafe then turned his attention to his girlfriend, trailing kisses from under her earlobe and down her neck as he whispered. "Daddy needs his fix, angel. Gon' let me do some lines off those perfect tits, yeah?"

"Here's your shit. Now fucking scram." Rafe spat, shooing Chad away with his hand.

It was almost like a scene from a comedy movie, the way that Chad hurriedly stood, practically tripping over his own two feet, mumbling about how sorry he was and how he didn't mean to disrespect Rafe or his girl. It took everything in the Rose girl to not burst out in giggles.

Her giggles filled the air, Rafe barely able to hear them over the booming music, but not even the music could drown out Rafe hearing those angelic giggles. She bit down on her bottom lip, whimpering at how his mouth felt against her soft skin. Being the possessive man that he was, Rafe made sure to leave marks along her neck, marking what belonged to him.

"Whatever Daddy wants, Daddy gets."

"Atta girl. S'good for Daddy. Gon' have to reward you later, hmm?" He whispered, his hand trailing further up her thigh, earning a small moan from her.

Sky reached into Rafe's pocket, pulling out a small baggie filled with white powder. Leaning back against the arm of the overly expensive couch, she began to sprinkle lines of the white substance on her cleavage, involuntarily squeezing her thighs together when Rafe let out a low groan. He leaned his face in closer, lining his nostrils up perfectly with the two white lines before snorting one, followed by the second. He then ran his tongue slowly over each breast, cleaning off whatever remained of the white powder. Of course, he had to give those perfect a few nips.

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Hours later as the party began to die down, the couple decided it was time to put their plan in motion. Both of them coked out of their minds, not to mention the mixture of alcohol and other substances. They had their ways of making sure nobody ever saw Sky snort white lines up her nostrils. She had a reputation to uphold being innocent after all. Thank God that Sky knew how to fool everyone, making them think that she was just tipsy from the half empty bottle of beer that Rafe handed her, not knowing that it was actually a mixture of different types of alcohol.

She made her way through the house, drink in hand as she searched for their victim, humming along to the music as she flashed her million dollar smile at everyone. When she spotted Chad, she put on her innocent act, strolling over to him as her tits bounced, barely contained by the thin material of her dress, ass peaking out from under. Before even approaching Chad, she knew that he was putty in her hand.

"Chad! There you are. I've been looking all over for you. I wanted you to try this new drink mixture I made and tell me what you think. Also my way of apologizing for Rafey's behavior. He tends to get a tad bit overprotective of me." Her voice came out sweet, so innocent sounding. Little did poor Chad know, the drink in her hand had a few extra ingredients, courtesy of Barry.

"Oh, uh, hey Sky. Where's, uh... Where's Rafe. He know you were coming to talk to me?" Chad asked nervously, looking around for any signs of Rafe. When he didn't see the Cameron male, he instantly smirked, not even trying to hide the fact that he was checking her out.

She giggled sweetly, adding on the charm as she flashed her million dollar smile once again, perfectly straight pearly whites on display along with her deep dimples. She twirled a strand of hair around her dainty finger.

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"Relax, Chaddy. I told Rafey that I was going to look for you. He's busy finishing up his last deals for the night. I just want you to try my new mix, not like I'm asking you to take me upstairs to an empty bedroom."

"Yeah, yeah of course I'll try it, sweetheart."

Got him, Sky thought to herself. This was just too damn easy.

"Fuck, Chad here is a lot heavier than I expected, baby. I swear, if he makes me break a nail or even chip my nail polish, 'm gonna go after his whole fucking family." Sky huffed as her and Rafe dragged Chad's unconscious body out of the bed of Rafe's truck.

"Baby Girl, Daddy already told you that you don't have to do any of the heavy lifting. That's what y'got me for, yeah?"

She immediately scrunched up her face, shaking her head from side to side with a strained huff.

"m'not letting.. you do all the.. heavy lifting yourself, Daddy. Whatcha take me for, some sort of weak bitch? Huh? Is that it? Cause 'm not weak, Rafey."

Rafe let out a dark chuckle, shaking his head as he smirked. She was a fiery one and he loved it.

"Shh, shh. Not what I'm saying at all, Baby Girl. I know that you're strong. Y'just got your nails done this morning and Daddy just doesn't want you fuckin' 'em up... 'specially 'fore you get the chance to wrap them 'round my cock. That's all." Rafe reassured her. "This should be good. Drop him here, angel."

Skylar didn't need to be told twice, she dropped Chad's unconscious body, shrugging as she heard a loud thud from his body hitting the concrete floor of the abandoned building. She immediately began inspecting her nails, making sure there were no chips. When she found no damage done to her nails, she looked up at Rafe with a huge grin, holding up both hands for him to see.

"Look, Daddy. No damage done." She beamed, before her face scrunched up in a cute little pout. "Too bad they'll be covered in blood soon. Oh well." She shrugged. "Least I know how to get 'em clean."

Rafe chuckled, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her flush against his toned and muscular body, running his hands down her back and cupping her ass. He leaned his face in to kiss along her jaw, before capturing her lips.

"Yeah, well, just know I plan on fucking you before we get cleaned up. You know what Y'do to Daddy when you're covered in blood." He purred in her ear, making her whimper.

"Daddy! Now 'm wet." Sky whined, making the Cameron boy chuckle.

"What's new, Baby Girl? You get wet just think' 'bout me. Don't worry your pretty little self, Daddy will take good care of you... After we're done with Chad."

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Straddling Chad's lap, Skylar ran the cold blade across his jawline, pouting that he still wasn't awake. Reaching back her other hand, she slapped Chad hard in the face, the sound bouncing off the empty walls of the abandoned building.

"Chad, time to wake up. I wanna play. Won't you play with me?" She whined, grinning like a maniac as the male groaned.

Chad's eyes slowly fluttered open, his head pounding as he tried to regain his focus. Not recognizing his surroundings, his eyes widened when he saw Skylar in his lap, knife pressed against his throat. Sure enough, Rafe was standing a few feet behind her, looking like a true psychopath.

"W-what the fuck did you put in my drink you crazy bitch!? Get the fuck off me! You're both fucking psychopaths!"

"You know, Chad... You should never call a psychopath a psychopath... Makes them angry. I don't think you want to make us angry, now do you!?" Skylar pressed the sharp end of the blade deeper against his neck, breaking the skin. She grinned as she watched the crimson liquid trickle down his throat.

"Look, I didn't do shit. Just let me go. I-I promise I won't tell anyone. I swear, man. Just let me go."

Rafe clicked his tongue, stalking over closer to where Chad was tied to the chair.

"Can't do that, man. You crossed a line tonight. Eying my girl like a pussy starved virgin. Ya pussy starved, Chad, huh? That it? Well guess what?" Rafe asked, reaching a hand out to cup Skylar's pussy under her flowy white dress. "This pussy, yeah, this pussy belongs to me. Even has MY name carved into her thigh. You fucked up, man, and now Y'gotta pay the price. Them's the rules, yeah?"

"Rafe, you got it all wrong, man.. I... I was-"

Chad was immediately cut off by Skylar slicing open his throat, pouting as the crimson liquid squirted all over her white dress.

"He talked too much. Made me bored." She shrugged. "Great!" She plunged the knife into his chest, ignoring his gurgled cries and pleas as he choked on his own blood. "You!" STAB. "Ruined!" STAB. "My!" STAB. "Favorite!" STAB. "Fucking" STAB. "Dress!" With one last stab to Chad's abdomen, she trailed the embedded blade down his stomach, ripping him open in two as his insides pooled out of him.

Rafe's cock was painfully hard, pressing against his jeans as he watched his girlfriend take Chad's life. It wasn't how they planned it, but he always let his Baby Girl do as she pleased. As much as Rafe wanted to be the one to kill that fucking douchebag, he couldn't deny how fucking hot his girl looked.

"You can stop now, angel. Chad's no longer with us. Pity that there wasn't much torture. M'proud of you though. You did so good, Baby Girl. Get that sweet ass over here and let Daddy reward you."

"M'kay, Daddy." Sky hummed, climbing off Chad's lifeless lap. Her once white dress now drenched in the frat boy's blood.

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Rafe teased Skylar, running his red tip over her slick folds, his precum mixing with her slickness. He groaned at the sight of her pretty glistening pussy, the most perfect pussy that he'd ever seen. The blonde was obsessed, willingly admitting to her that he was pussy whipped.

"Rafey, stop teasing!" She whimpered, already writhing beneath him just from his tip gliding along her slick folds.

"Gotta admire the view before I destroy that pretty pussy, yeah? So soaked f'me already, Baby Girl and I've barely touched you. Sucha fucking slut for Daddy's cock, yeah? Yeah, you are. Got you practically coming undone and I haven't even fucked you yet."

"Rafe, I swear if you don't fuck me right no-"

"You'll what? Hmm? You ain't gonna do shit, Baby Girl. I fucking own this pussy and if I want to take my time, I will, yeah? But, since you did so good tonight I won't make you beg."

With that, he slammed his cock deep inside her, not even giving her time to adjust to his size before his hips thrust roughly, slamming in and out of her tight hole. He practically came at the loud moans that rolled off her tongue.

Sky gasped when she felt a cold metal against her abdomen as Rafe slammed his cock deep inside her sopping cunt. She grinned knowing that the cold metal was her knife. It wasn't the first time that the couple did knife play, or even gun play at that. When it came to sexual situations, there wasn't much that was off limits for the pair.

Rafe snaked an arm around to grab her by the throat, squeezing hard as he yanked her head back, wanting to see her face as she came undone. Her once bright doe eyes were as dark as his.

"Hold still for me, Baby Girl, yeah?" Rafe groaned, eyes rolling back from how perfectly her pussy wrapped around his big cock. "Wouldn' want to nick that flawless skin."

Rafe took the blade in his hand, running it along her inner thigh. He felt her walls tighten around him, practically milking him. She obeyed him, trying to stay as still as possible, even though it was almost impossible the way Rafe was roughly thrusting in and out of her.

"Fuck, you gonna cum already? Sucha fucking dirty whore, gettin' off on my cock and having a fucking knife against your skin. Cum for Daddy, wan' you to soak my cock, Baby Girl."

"Mhm, 'm gonna cum daddy." Sky whimpered, feeling the familiar tightness in her stomach.

She threw her head back against Rafe's bare and sweaty chest, mumbling a few curse words as she came undone. Rafe supported her body with one strong hand, pounding into her soaked pussy harder, each thrust more sloppy than the last, letting her know that he was also close.

"Fuck!... Rafe!"

Sky screamed out his name in the most pleasurable way as she came, soaking Rafe's cock. Rafe was right behind her, moaning her name as he emptied his load deep inside her pussy, painting her walls white.

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It had been well over two weeks since the couple brutally murdered Chad. Missing posters were posted all over the island with Chad's picture. Sky and Rafe had even joined the search party for the frat boy, knowing damn well nobody would find him. After chopping his body up, the couple fed him to the gators. Still, they had to make sure they came off just as concerned as the rest of the island.

The couple were sat at a table at The Wreck, eating their lunch when a breaking news alert appeared on the TV. Both their heads snapped to the screen, listening closely to the news report.

"Residents of Kildare County, we come to you with breaking news. What you're about to hear and see might not be suitable for everyone. Kildare County Sheriff's department was called out this morning when a hiker in the woods came across a severed hand. After further investigation it was discovered that the hand belonged to missing teenager, Chad Smith. We take you now to a special report from Sheriff Shoupe."

"The Sheriff's department received a call this morning from a caller who wishes to remain anonymous. After arriving on scene, Deputy Plumb and myself took the severed hand to evidence. After running the hand for prints it was discovered that it belonged to Chad Smith. Deputies searched the area in hopes of finding a body, but came up empty handed. Without knowing how long Chad's body was out there, we're assuming that the gators got to him before we did. As of now we don't have any suspects and don't expect foul play to be at hand. According to our reports, Chad was last seen leaving a house party and was heavily under the influence of drugs and alcohol. Our best guess is that he passed out and maybe hit his head. If anyone has any information, we ask that you please contact the Sheriff's department. We'll update you with any new information we come across. As of now, we're ruling out homicide. Our thoughts and prayers go out to Chad's family and friends. A vigil will be held this Friday evening on the beach. Thank you."

Rafe and Sky peeled their eyes off the screen, immediately looking at each other with proud grins. Little did everyone know, the couple planted the hand, knowing that someone would soon come across it. There was no way that Chad's murder could be pinned on either of them, the pair too smart to leave behind any evidence.

Sky gave Rafe a faux pout, sticking out her bottom lip.

"Poor Chad. Who would do a thing like that? It's so, so sad." She hummed, running a finger down her cheek as a faux tear.

Rafe grinned as he let out a low chuckle, reaching over the table to take Sky's hand in his, absentmindedly drawing shapes on the back of her hand with his thumb.

"Mhm, real sad. Eat your food, Baby Girl. Gon' need your strength for tonight. Got something special planned."

Sky perked up, looking at her boyfriend with a bright smile, but only Rafe knew the darkness behind that innocent smile. Leaning across the table, she whispered.

"Please tell me that it's finally Sophia's turn. Can't stand seeing her check you out anymore, Daddy. You're mine."

Rafe chuckled, nodding his head as he brought their hands to his lips, peppering the back of hers with kisses.

"Mhm. Daddy's gon' let you play with that bitch tonight. Let her know who the fuck I belong to."

"Yay! Thank you, Daddy. I love you, Rafey."

"I love you too, Baby Girl. More than anything."

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx #rafe x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe x reader #psychotic!rafe #dark!reader #not so innocent