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#here we go with legally needed tags ->
iminthisstanshit · 2 years
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"two albums i wrote two albums for him with dance songs and then do you know what happened"
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"he wrote his own album and told me i'm a nightmare on the dance floor."
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cyanide-latte · 1 month
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. . .
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shadowdianne · 5 months
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I'd probably be less stressed if I stopped my very much NOT funny tradition of having a bazillion things happening 'round me at the end of the year
#still waiting to see if my doctor is going to approve my blood work#still on talks with my bank to see if the plan gets approved and I actually get to own a place#still waiting for the agency to call us back about the place we saw tuesday and we'd be interested in#I also am going to be a... dunno the nongendered form of how I'm going to have a niece in less than a week#i'm working my ass off so i don't get sacked at the beginning of the year#planning a move + how it's going to work#how we are going to be asking for days off on both of our jobs considering it all#the conversation regarding companies pertaining light#water and all of the basic necesseties#which revolves around on the fact that I need to feign being a woman for all of them and keep accepting and signing forms under a gender i'#very much not bc here i don't get to be legally recognized as anything but the binary#and the mental inner countdown all of it brings bc since taking t i'm gearing towards a more androgynous look and therefore more difficult#to pass with each passing week#i REALLY want a break#and to probably pass out for a month#(and knowing that atop of it all i'm starting to burn out and I'm not being as good of a friend I should be)#fuck off mental gnome#ps to those that might be reading the tags#me trying to own a place is mostly due to a need since mortages are cheaper than anything these days and our lease is going to be up in a#year#and we know they will not keep the monthly payment the same if we keep leaving here giving that they've increased the amount twice already#so we need to move and we need to do it now whilst i'm still under 30#as banks offer aid to those that try to own a place under 30 and they look to the oldest of the couple#which would be me#I'm 28#soon to be 29 in -also- less than a week#can i have a fucking break xd#living and not leaving#not editing a single tag we die like fanfic authors who don't give a damn
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arcaneyouth · 6 months
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rapidly approaching my 21st birthday is hard and weird but not for any normal reasons thats for sure
#not a vent post im just rambling in the tags#theres 4 main factors at play here.#firstly theres Society n all that telling me 21 is a Special Biethday!!! you'll be old enough to legally do adult things!!!#secondly theres the fact that i love being alive and celebrating it this shit rules like fuck yes i get to keep living hell yes#thirdly theres the fact that i kinda dont actually care. like its chill. ive reached the point where a birthday is a cute lil tradition#i dont gotta go wild with it and dont feel the need to treat it differently than any other day#but also the 4th thing which is 21 is yet another age my doctors told me id never get to see so like this is A Big One#so this is actually hard as hell because fundamentally i dont care that much n dont have strong emotions BUT FUCK DUDE WHAT IF BIG CELEBRAT#constantly sitting here going hehe yayy its my birthday soon cant wait to hang out with my friends and then go back to normal life#while also going I NEED BIG PLANS I NEED HUGE PLANS I NEED A CELEBRATION OFF THE WALLS OH FUCK OH GOD#it doesnt stop being funny. i dont even know what kind of big thing id do anyways#mom said i couldnt go to moterey bay aquarium too much money and that was my only idea#ive been thinking about this for weeks and have come up with 0 other plans#'we gotta do a huge party' ok then come up with one then dumbass#oh noooo guess ill have a nice time at home just like any other day oh nooooo#guess my 21st birthday will be unspecial. darn. anyways
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pepprs · 2 years
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also like my school literally doesn’t report covid cases on campus for like almost 2 weeks. they haven’t updated the dashboard since May 12 and in that time SO many ppl i know on campus have gotten it. so im sure cases are very high and i do not fucking trust then to keep us all safe. they don’t fucking care <- is applying to work for them full time 💀 but still
#purrs#this person who graduated from here in December and is disabled became a covid activist and started this whole organization about keeping c#campuses covid safe and im just crying looking at what they did because of how horribly they were treated and how i fucking backed down when#they were like we already are doing the maximum we can do ♥️ like no you FUCKING aren’t. you are denying reality. you are pretending like#covid is over and it isn’t. and im not even disabled or immunocompromised like there are students who are who won’t be able to go to this an#and it doesn’t even matter because no one wants to wear masks anymore ♥️ like how fucking stupid can you be. not everyone is onay with mask#mandates being removed. not everyone can SURVIVE if mask mandates are removed. so why can’t everyone just endure a temporary inconvenience s#so EVERYONE who worked hard for this can attend and not have to worry about risking their lives and their families lives. its fucking#horrific. like does NOBODY care anymore. are we just giving up completely. fuck them andfuck all the people who are making it hard to access#care and actively denying people who want or NEED stricter guidelines an opportunity to go. this fucking sucks and i feel so bad for that pe#person bc they got ruthlessly mocked on Twitter and had to go thru all this legal bullshit with the admin and they did NOTHI NG and it’s lik#like i don’t even know you h it good for you for taking how painful that was and trying to help people navigate it. and i don’t know what to#do with any of this except not go but also im in pain and not thinking clearly but this is fucking nightmarish. like you want to talk#draconian how about the choices being miss your graduation or get a disease that could lead to chronic illness and death. lol#ask to tag
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kaeyaphile · 2 years
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i've only known @hoobish for almost 3 whole weeks now but if anything happened to them i'd kill everyone on this website and then myself 😊👍🏻
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jv · 1 month
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you said something in your take on the latest debacle thats been rooting around my head like a feral hog. this is a total paraphrase but "moderation is not to prevent bullies from hurting people its to keep a nice paint coat of politeness" i'd like to see you elaborate on that tbh, as like, critique of existing systems of moderation and what could be done better. what you think moderation Should be
Let me answer with a real example that happened to me. Early 2023, someone on here sent me a DM to point me to an asshole who was spamming some popular anime fandom tag with TERF shit (basically, taking pictures of characters from that anime and making them into anti-trans memes, totally unrelated with the actual fandom, just pictures and basic shit like "trans women are men" in white all-caps text, etc). I wasn't a mod, so I couldn't do anything myself, but I could report it using the special staff fast-lane (basically, go to the mods team channel in slack, point them to what was going on).
A super nice rank-and-file person from the ToS team got the posts removed ASAP and all was good. Until a few hours later, when her boss got into the slack thread where we had been talking about those posts to tell her that it was a mistake to remove them, because they didn't go against the rules: the posts wasn't addressing anyone in particular (so no harassment rule violation) and legally wouldn't be considered hate speech (so no hate speech rule violation).
That's what I mean. The person on the team who removed the posts cared about preventing bullies from hurting people: She saw someone being a little shit to others in tumblr and said "not on my watch, you fucker".
On the other side, her boss cared about keeping the coat of politeness: Legally speaking, the TERF wasn't doing anything that could get them in problems, so for the boss, it wasn't anything tumblr mods should be involved with.
What I think moderation should be? I think moderation should be opinionated. I think people should be banned for the intend, not for the words. The context matters: A trans person punching up and wishing a comically cartoonish death to a billionaire is way less harmful than a random people posting casual transphobic content on unrelated tags. But to evaluate that, you need to have an opinionated moderation, not some rules trying to establish some level of 'fair-play' between equally-valid opinions.
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virgamsysxvolumes · 3 months
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Complex Organisms
Tags: Trans!Danny, toddler Danielle&Dan, Unhinged yandere Vlad, intrusive Batfam, complex family relationships, complex Fenton parents(they're trying because they do love Danny but they're also insane)
Part Two (here)
Danny had known he was adopted since he was about ten years old. His parents had told him on his birthday after all, he had even met his biological mother, a distant cousin of Maddie's. He had wanted to meet her but she had outright refused, he was her greatest shame after all, a child out of wedlock and from a ditzy playboy no less. It had been a rough year for him.
Vlad had only found out recently and he had taken it worse than Danny did. But then again, he'd never been the most mentally stable person Danny had ever met. Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised that Vlad's most recent completely unhinged plot to try and force him into becoming his son involved holding Danielle and Dan hostage and threatening to destabilize them entirely if Danny wouldn't become a family with him. Vlad seemed torn between hating Danny for not being Maddie's son and loving him for being the only other True Halfa in existence. Danny thought it was hypocritical of him to be angry about Danny being adopted when he was constantly trying to force adopt him himself.
In the end Vlad did destabilize them but Danny had gotten to them in time to be able to bring them to Frostbite for a chance to save them. The only way to save them had been to hold onto their cores inside himself until their human bodies could 'reform'. The dysphoria the 'pregnancy' had caused him was insane. Luckily he hadn't actually needed to give birth naturally and they were able to just phase out of him, unluckily the whole process had turned them into actual babies and Danny had finally had to just confess to his parents everything. If only to assure himself that his children would be safe with them.
Jack and Maddie had been sickened, infuriated, and distraught but not for the reasons Danny had originally thought they would be. Vlad was officially on their vivisection list, but on the bright side they had fully accepted Danny and the newly 'born' twins Danielle and Danior. They had also begun reworking their ghost theories and working towards getting the anti-ecto acts abolished by bringing to light some "new discoveries". Unfortunately they had also gotten extremely overprotective of him.
They had gotten all the paperwork and legal finagling done to claim that Dani and Dan were Jazz and Danny's siblings to avoid any uncomfortable questions for Danny. But it was pretty much an open secret in town that Danny had gone missing for a good few months quite suddenly and upon his return he suddenly had new twin siblings. Nobody said anything about it though, Amity was very good with open secrets after all.
This all coalesced into Danny's most recent situation however, with Danny bouncing his leg in agitation in a cafe in a Gotham museum with a cup of coffee in hand. Valarie, Sam, and Tucker sat at the table with him. Star, Paulina, Kwan, and Dash were sitting at a table not all that far away and Wes had managed to pull Mikey into sitting at the table closest to the Ghost Group without being too obviously creepy about it.
"Looks like Fenturd is still panicking about leaving the brats behind." Dash sighed in agitation.
"Well, I mean, it is his first time away from them since they were born I'm pretty sure. That's like a huge step for anyone." Star remarked taking multiple pictures of her frappe.
"Can you blame him for freaking out? He left them with his parents, yeah Jazz is there but that's still like, two against one!" Kwan also commented.
"I don't know how his parents still have custody of him let alone the munchkins." Paulina remarked in a lower voice a bit of disdain on her beautiful features. "Just pray those nuthouse rejects don't do anything to fuck up or he's going to flatten the Midwest."
"Fentonio wouldn't flatten the Midwest, he's too much of a pushover." Dash scoffed dismissively.
"Just because he lets you wail on him in that stupid weird macho game you two play doesn't mean he's a pushover." Paulina said flatly.
"I stopped okay! I just didn't want him to think I didn't see him as a man! It's complicated!" Dash protested.
"It's really not. You just suck at processing your own feelings and didn't want to accept you had a crush." Star snorted with amusement, finally putting her phone away so that she could actually drink her coffee monstrosity.
"I did not! That's a huge lie!" Dash protested loud enough that the other tables looked over at him. He flushed and lowered his voice again. "I did not have a crush on that dweeb."
"Woof, buddy...if I knew you did that cause of a crush I would have told you to stop it. Wow, you totally bombed any chance you might have had." Kwan couldn't help but laugh at him.
"Shut up! It's nothing like that! You're all assholes!" Dash hissed defensively.
"Yeah, okay Dash. Whatever." Paulina snorted, rolling her eyes heavily at him.
"Alright class, let's continue the tour!" Mr. Lancer announced with confidence. The kids sighed but still got up to follow their teacher.
"This is so much more boring than I thought it would be. What happened to the violent rogues we were promised?" Kwan couldn't help but lament as they walked through the exhibits.
"Why do you even care? You got assigned Mad Hatter and there's no way that's happening anyway." Paulina remarked with a smirk.
"Ugh, no fair. How come I didn't get one of the bigger ones?" Kwan pouted.
"Luck of the draw friendo!" Dash laughed.
"You're just saying that cause you drew Killer Croc." Kwan complained.
"Suck it up Complainy-Pants, we all have to do our part to keep the Ghost Gang from an accidental murder wrap while we're here. Lancer's giving us all in house suspension if we slip up and let even one of them handle a human on this trip." Star reminded him with a jab to his ribs.
It was a whole hour before anything happened after that. They had already been in the main lobby to wrap up their majorly uninteresting museum trip when the windows locked down and goons rushed in, all dressed in green with question marks all over. Star felt a thrill and her eyes flashed as she got hyped. The Riddler strutted in with tremendous confidence.
"Well hello there kiddos! We're gonna play a game together! To welcome you into Gotham of course." The Riddler announced, he was a little surprised when all but four of the people present all looked simultaneously at a petite blond girl who was staring him down like an animal. "Uh."
"Hold please~" Star spoke delightedly and handed her purse to Paulina who took the offered item with a prideful smirk.
"Get his ass baby!" Paulina cooed adoringly.
"I got a game we can play!" Star cheered, she moved faster than anyone actually saw. Before any of the goons could take action and before Riddler could dodge she grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the tile floors. "How about a game of Pink Belly?!"
"Aaah!" It was not a good day for Riddler or his goons. He'd never flashed back to high school so fast in his life.
By the time Signal got to the museum to break up the commotion Riddler was the one in need of rescue. There had only been about six goons and the kids had hog tied them and thrown them off to the side while they somehow managed to hang Riddler off the ceiling and had been using him as a pinata. Two of the bigger guys would tug on the rope while a blindfolded blond girl took swings at him with her bare fists and cackled when she landed a punch. Riddler was crying.
"Wow, what did Riddler do to Star? I've never seen her so personally vindictive against someone." Danny couldn't help but remark.
"Probably his outfit, it is a complete eyesore and that's coming from me dude." Tucker remarked.
"You guys are idiots." Sam sighed rolling her eyes, Valarie shook her head fondly but clearly agreed with Sam.
"Uh, okay guys. Break it up. I gotta get these guys to the cops." Signal managed to get himself together and try to get things back under control.
Signal did not miss the kid that looked like a twiggy teen version of Bruce Wayne despite his lack of reaction to him. He could just be a doppelganger, but better safe than sorry. The kids were clearly disappointed by Signal's interference as most of them groaned loudly and complained but they did listen to him and released the villains into Signal's custody.
"Lame." Mikey complained. "I was hoping for more teeth, I had a project idea."
"You're weird art project is creepy, stop collecting teeth Mikey." Wes hissed.
"You're one to talk, Mr. Collage-Of-My-Crush." Mikey scoffed, rolling his eyes. Wes flushed and punched him in the arm.
"It's a conspiracy board! Conspiracy!!" Wes snapped at him.
"Yeah, sure it is." Mikey muttered.
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now that i've spammed and am for sure getting fucking banned, i will talk about Matt and why what he did is fucking disgusting and horrendous
many transgender individuals have had safe for work selfies and other pictures of themselves taken down or flagged on account of being nsfw. this is blatant transphobia due to multiple reasons
1. tagging something related to transgender individuals as nsfw when it is clearly sfw helps to perpetuate the bigoted myth that being transgender is a fetish or kink
2. by censoring our existence you are actively preventing us from even trying to defend ourselves from bigotry or attempting to correct stereotypes or harmful misinformation
recently the incidents have crossed the boundary even farther than usual with the banning of predstrogen. she had the thing described above happen to her because it had been mass reported by terfs and other transphobic individuals. after having the photo taken down she made a joke about wishing the ceo of tumblr @photomatt (im for some reason not allowed to tag him anymore) wash in a car crash involving explosions and hammers. he took this joke seriously and decided to do 2 things
1. ban her because he couldn't take a joke amd he couldn't handle having his transphobia called out
2. threatened to call the fbi on her because he couldn't take a joke and couldn't handle being called out
now i don't know if you know this but organizations like the fbi don't particularly have a great history with minorities. so calling them is basically equivalent to Matt walking up to her and shooting her in the face. if the fbi was called it wouldn't be a raid or a peaceful capture, it would be an execution.
and now we move on to what is currently happening. multiple users have been banned for joking about the situation or discussing it and he's attempting to hide evidence of his actions while also lying about what happened. his defensive statements only make him look worse because of his lies and other reasons such as referring to pred as "it" (according to her bio pred uses she/him). this is extreme transphobia and it needs to be pointed out, called out, and discussed. if these things happen we could hopefully see Matt pay for his actions (there's a legitimate legal case against him btw just pointing that out).
anyways im going to be posting this to my cohost and tranfem social accounts because im probably getting banned and i would like what i said here to be preserved.
don't be quiet.
your voice is important in this situation
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waking up reading the news on politics on this truly godforsaken country is like. everyone else reporting on all the millions of dollars the trump douchebags are getting sued with fraud for and, like, on the war in Ukraine, and then I see a headline from Faux News and it's like "Joe Biden is sometimes mean to reporters!!" and I UGLY CACKLE
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lovelytsunoda · 7 months
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glad I crashed the wedding // oscar piastri
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summary: she needed a wedding date. he wanted a reason to spend time with her. but of course, the inn only has one bed, and oscar makes her feel alive in a way she's never felt before.
pairing: oscar piastri x female! reader
warnings: sexual tension, one bed trope, difficult sister relationship (though they love each other very very much), eventual smut, fake dating (I’ve been reading too much Ana Huang lately)
“so let me get this straight,” she began, swirling the coconut-mango-pineapple icy drink in her hand, leaning back against the photocopier. “you, the great oscar piastri, wants to come home with me to be my date for my sisters wedding, and you don’t want anything in return?”
oscar nodded, a wide grin on his face as the copy machine continued to churn out waivers for the hot lap guests to sign. “that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“but why?”
oscar shrugged, trying to come up with a convincing lie. “because I’m your friend. and this is what friends do.”
y/n sighed, sipping her drink before turning away from the driver. keeping eye contact was dangerous when it was with oscar piastri. when it was with the man who set her nerve endings on fire, who made her stomach churn like the rising tide with a gesture as small as a wave, or an offer to buy her a drink.
who had an accent that made her core throb, soaking her panties right through when she thought about how his voice would sound in her ear if he was whispering some less-than-holy things to her.
“I don’t want to subject you to the insanity. you might not want to be friends after you meet my family. we can’t even be in the same room sometimes, it’s like dropping a match onto a pile of dry leaves.”
oscar laughed and she tried to ignore the shivers the sound sent up her spine, the rising goose flesh on her arms as she counted the waivers, having to start the count over again more than a few times.
“I’m sure they’re not that bad.” oscar reasoned, taking the file folder from her, insisting on lightening her load. “I just want you to feel at ease.”
she rolled her eyes, grabbing her drink as she started to walk out of the motorhome. “I’ve been living in delias shadow since I was fourteen. she’s a well respected medical professional; and I went to a three year college. everything she does is perfect. hell, she’s getting married this weekend and here I am, convincing myself that letting you tag along is a good idea so I don’t look like I’m going to die alone.”
it’s not like she wasn’t successful. she was a part of the legal team for one one of the biggest racing names in the world. when Oscar’s contract dispute started, she had been the one who served otmar his papers (and to this day, saying the words “otmar szafanuer you have been served, see you in court” was still one of the finest moments of her career).
it’s just that delia always brought out the worst in her, every insecurity, every flaw she hated about herself. their childhood has been fraught with insecurity and competition.
she sighed, leaning against one of the paddocks scratchy palm trees, bark digging into the skin on her arms. oscar was still trying to plead his case, and she wondered why she was fighting it.
this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? oscar on her arm, making her feel like she was wanted, loved, even?
she took another sip of her drink before she spoke again.
“we’ll probably have to share a hotel room, and my dad might threaten you with his antique saw collection. you’ll also have to stop me from killing delia with my bare hands before the big day.”
oscar chuckled, handing back her file folder. “I think I can handle that.”
that goddamn smile. that’s where it all started, when she first started to think about his lips on hers, his hands in her hair, his mouth wrapped around her nipples.
why on earth was she agreeing to this?
“you’d better be up bright and early tomorrow. it’s a long flight and my dad is meeting us at the airport. as far as everyone knows, I’m not bringing a date.”
the feeling of his hand against the small of her back burned into her skin. she could feel his body heat through the thick fabric of her papaya golf shirt as he started guiding her towards the garage where the hot laps were being conducted.
“oscar, what are you doing?”
he grinned at her, baring his pearl-white teeth, in their slightly uneven top row. “if we’re going to convince your dad that we’re together, we’d better start practicing.”
god, this man was going to be the death of her.
————
she regretted inviting oscar along the second they got off the plane.
from the moment they passed through airport security, it was as if a switch had been flicked in her brain, converting him from the serious, driven race car driver she met at the track, to a man straight out of the romance book she had been listening to on the flight. his hand was rooted to her back protectively, and he wouldn't let her carry any of her luggage on her own.
she could get used to this, she thought, watching his t-shirt ride up over his defined abs as he reached into the overhead cabin to pull down her two small suitcases.
they walked peacefully through the terminal, oscar pushing the baggage cart with one hand, his free arm looped over her shoulder.
"you know you don't have to act like my boyfriend until we see my father, right?" she said hesitantly, running a thumb over his knuckles. "my feelings won't get hurt if you don't want to pretend when nobody else is around.
oscar acted like he was about to say something, but he was cut off by a shout across the airport.
"y/n!" the voice shouted. "there's my girl!"
"dad!" she shouted, breaking away from oscar's side to launch herself into her father's arms. the constant travel that came with working in formula one took it's toll, and she didn't get to see her father as often as she liked. she'd had to move to england to work with mclaren, and her family had stayed behind.
she never said she loved that part of her job, but a little space away from her family often made her appreciate them a little more.
"dad, i want you to meet someone." she started, waving at oscar, who lumbered over with the weighed-down baggage cart. "this is my boyfriend, oscar." despite the lie, and how foreign the words were, saying them almost felt right.
my boyfriend oscar.
"i'm carl, nice to meet you." her father said, his voice a slight bit more gentle than his usual grunt.
oscar shook carl's hand, a bit of weariness on his face as he slipped his smooth, dainty hand inside carl's larger, more calloused one. "nice to meet you, sir."
carl raised an eyebrow. "australian? you'd better not be giving my daughter any of those australian kisses."
"dad, what the hell!?" she whined, hiding her face behind her hands as a blush began to coat her cheeks. if there was one thing she definitely was not getting from oscar piastri, it was australian kisses.
oscar thought she was cute when she was flustered. it was such a shame it took him an hot minute to figure out why.
australian kisses are like french kisses, just down under. it was mark who had said it to him first, in an attempt to be funny. as the meaning set in for oscar, he found himself silently cursing mark webber.
but it didn't mean he didn't get half-hard thinking about having his head between y/n's thighs.
________
"you've got to be shitting me."
she knew they would be sharing a bedroom. all of the plus ones were rooming in the chic, trendy motel with the guests who had invited them. and that would have been fine.
except that this hotel only had a queen bed, done up with plush white sheets and a small turquoise blanket draped over the bottom half.
a queen bed that she would have to share with a man that she wished would fuck her brains out.
"i can call the main office if you want." oscar suggested softly, reaching for the door handle. "i can see if they have another room, or they could bring a cot in for me?"
she sighed, raking her hair over her head as she looked around the room. "don't bother. the motel only has fifteen rooms, and it's booked solid for delia's wedding, between her bridal party and the fiancée's family, i doubt they'd even really have a cot. we can manage, right?"
oscar nodded, hands buried deep in his sweatpant pockets. damn those gray sweats.
"we can make a towel barrier, and the bed is more than big enough for both of us. hell, we could probably have a threesome on that bed and still have space."
did oscar piastri not have a single drop of shame?
she shook her head, trying to forget the thought of a half-naked oscar hovering over her, whispering things in her ear. she made a grab for her suitcase placing it on the bed and grabbing a handful of clothes and a travel bath and body works bottle.
"i'm going for a shower, can we talk about this afterwards? i'm jet lagged and i really just want to sleep."
"sure." oscar shrugged, spreading hismelf out on the bed, arms over his head so that his shirt once again showed off his stunning lower torso.
she tried to stop herself from staring at the happy trail dipping under oscar's waistband, but she failed miserably, her eyes following the small trail of hair down to the waistband of his jack and jones boxers, to the impressive lump underneath his jeans.
if his cock was that big when it was soft, how would it feel when it was hard, throbbing and inside of her. just the mere thought was making heat grow between her legs-
nope. we're not going there today.
she squeaked out some kind of muffled statement, clutching her clothes to her chest and making a mad dash towards the bathroom door. a cold shower should fix this, right?
when oscar heard the shower turn on, the music clicking on soon after, he sat up on the bed, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. he knew he should shower as well, but the fatigue of air travel was beginning to set in. a small nap wouldn't hurt, right?
he got up from the bed, socked feet sliding against the laminate floor as he reached for the wheels on the bottom of y/n's suitcase. all he needed to do was close the suitcase, move it out of the way, close his eyes, and then drift of into a peaceful slumber.
all he had to do was hope that he didn't wake up hard, or moan her name in his sleep. it should be easy, right?
wrong. the suitcase slipped out of his grip, almost sliding off the bed before he thanked god for his reflexes, stopping the suitcase from hitting the floor, save for a few articles of clothing.
he leaned down picking up the black busted tour shirt and denim shorts, his breath catching in his throat when he saw what was resting on the area rug underneath.
it was a mass of bright peach lace, the color so close to the mclaren signature papaya, his heart hammering in his chest as he picked it up and unraveled the halter bralette. he bit back a moan as he stared at the lace and mesh that left very little to the imagination.
he started to think about his mild-mannered co-worker wearing it, her perky nipples pressing against the bright, skimpy fabric.
the mere thought sent all the blood rushing straight to his cock.
god, he was down so bad that it should be criminal.
he shouldn’t be thinking about whispering dirty sweet nothings against her skin, or sucking a hickey into her thigh before he plunges his tongue inside of her.
he shouldn’t be thinking about anything that would make his boner worse.
and that was when he heard the bathroom door open. and there wasn’t enough time to hide the sweat seeping from the pores on his skin, the tent in his sweatpants, or the fact that he was still holding the offending lingerie in his hands.
“it’s not what it looks like!” the driver sputters, turning around to face her, and bitting his lip to stop himself from losing whatever composure he has left.
she’s wearing booty shorts that barely cover her backside, the ass emblazoned with the acronym for the college she attended, her top half covered with a loose-fitting muscle tank sporting a skeleton on a surfboard, the sides of her bare tits just barely visible through the arm holes.
“oscar,” she breathed, voice raspy when she saw the tent pitched in his pants. “do i turn you on?”
“you have since the day I met you.” he admits, dropping the bra and slowly moving closer, hesitantly running his hands down her still-warm sides. “tell me, y/n, do you touch yourself when you think about me?”
“i could ask you the same.” she shot back, her voice wavering as she pressed her hand shakily against oscars clothed cock. “your boyfriend act didn’t feel like an act this morning.”
they shouldn’t be doing this. it was crossing so many lines. but when oscar looked her dead in the eyes and breathed out a single word, all thoughts of self control went out the window.
"yes."
she pressed her lips against his, nipples springing to attention as she pressed her front against his, his hands moving from her sides to squeeze and caress her breasts, her mouth falling open in a moan against his lips. oscar took that chance to slip his tongue inside her mouth, his hands migrating to her hair as he maneuvered their bodies towards the bed.
she took the lead once her back hit the mattress, practically ripping her tank top off and casting it aside, hands making a mad grab for oscar's plain white shirt while he kissed and marked up her neck.
she whimpered under his touch, and would have been embarrassed had she not been so turned on.
"oscar, please." she begged, spreading her thighs as she tried to grind her core against his thigh. "i need you. i need your cock so deep inside me that i can still feel it three days later."
oscar practically growled at the admission, pulling his lips off her right tit. "are you begging for me, pretty girl? do you want me to make you feel good? hm, want me to treat you right?"
"yes." she breathed, tucking a hand underneath his boxers. "please, oscar."
god, his name sounded so sexy rolling off her tongue. he couldn't think straight when she had her slender fingers wrapped around his cock.
"are you sure you want this? because once i have you, i won't let you go. i'll need more."
"i'm sure, oscar. and i'm not just saying that because i think your mild possessiveness is kind of hot."
oscar smiled, a small, imperceptible blush forming on his cheeks. "you think i'm hot."
"since the day i met you." she hummed, sewing her lips to his, her fingers tugging on his hair, a small moan leaving his throat.
"oh, so pretty boy likes it when i tug on his hair." she giggled. "i learn something new every day."
"keep talking like that, and you won't be able to walk in the morning."
"i look forward to it."
oscar looked around, his eyes settling on the mirror hanging opposite the bed, right next to the bathroom door. he felt his dick throb as an idea formed in his head, pulling away from the body lying prone on the bed.
"shorts off, all-fours on the bed facing that mirror." he ordered, trying to keep a gentle tone in his voice as he clambered off the bed, stripping out of his sweatpants and boxers, hard member jutting straight out as her touched himself, trying to find some kind of release from the pressure between his legs.
she shivered at the command before making a show of dropping her shorts to show off the cream coloured cotton thong she was wearing, laughing to herself when oscar's eyes rolled back in his skull, a moan escaping his throat.
"god, you're going to be the death of me, sweetheart."
she couldn't deny the excitement in her bones as she settled herself on the bed, arousal literally dripping down her thighs when she looked in the mirror and saw oscar looking at her, mounting the bed behind her before slapping his cock against her ass.
in a more tender, loving action, oscar leaned over her, pressing a kiss to the top of her spine.
"you're so pretty." he whispered, the compliment sinking into her skin like tattoo ink before he sunk into her, gripping her hips and closing his eyes to try and show some restraint as she got used to his size.
it was a sinful picture in that motel room mirror as he began to rut into her, watching her tits shake in the mirror, listening to her sweet whimpers and whines and pleads for more.
"god, yes, oscar! feels so-so fucking good, oh my god."
he met her eyes in the mirror, sweat running down his chest and dripping onto her back as he kept thrusting, the same relentless pace. "you're so good for me, pretty girl. so stunning, so sexy with my cock inside you like this. god, you're prefect. perfectly mine."
he practically growled the last word, knowing damn well that he was ruined for any other woman.
-------
they woke up in a tangled heap of limbs, not knowing where one body ended and the other began, lazily exchanging kisses as the sun rose outside.
"oscar, we have to go to the rehearsal." she whined as he kissed her neck. "if we're late, i'm never going to hear the end of it."
"don't care." oscar hums, running his hands up and down her sides. "i would gladly stay in bed with you all day and order room service so we don't ever have to leave."
"osc." she warned, sitting up in the bed and pulling the duvet over her chest. "we're going to the rehearsal. i'm a bridesmaid, remember?"
fifteen minutes later, oscar was in the bathroom steam-cleaning the wrinkles out of his suit while she tried on the bridesmaid dress, caramel fabric falling over her skin as she stared at herself in the mirror.
the same mirror where, just twelve hours before, she had watched oscar piastri fuck her brains out.
she felt heat on her hips, and didn't even need to look up to realize that it was oscars hands, gently caressing her skin through the satin. he gently kissed her shoulder blades, his hands moving to do up the zipper she couldn't quite reach.
"you look beautiful." he hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "you deserve better than me."
she giggled softly, tugging his arms away from her hips and around her waist, sinking back into his arms. "no i don't. you're exactly what i want, oscar. you're funny and you're sweet and you make me feel like the best version of myself. you're also really great in bed."
oscar laughed, kissing her softly. he would never get tired of feeling her lips against his. "the boyfriend stuff was never an act. and i volunteered to come with you this weekend because i wanted to get to know you off the track. who you are when you aren't serving legal papers to team principals."
"i only did that once. i missed out on the chance to fight with chip ganassi since arrow has a different legal team." she laughed. "i really like you, oscar."
"and i really like you too, y/n. my perfect, beautiful girl."
-------
the wedding came and went, marking the end of y/n and oscar's dream weekend, the reminder that very soon, they would all be going back to their real lives.
that she and oscar would need to figure out where they stood with each other.
but she didn't want to think about that. not while she was dancing with her sister, the pair of them finally getting along as they screeched the words to an old tove lo song.
oscar watched from the table, sitting next to y/n's mother and making polite conversation as his lovesick eyes found her under the disco lights.
"someone is feeling lovesick tonight." mrs. y/l/n hummed. "we heard you two last night. the motel walls aren't as thick as you think."
oscar blanched, coughing on his drink. "you heard all that?"
y/n's mom laughed. "her father had to leave the room and get a coffee before he walked in there and strangled you. y/n is always going to be his little girl. but she's growing up, and i think if she has you in her life, she'll be okay. you're good together."
oscar was about to say something else when a shout rang through the room. "delia is doing the bouquet toss!"
all of the members of each wedding party gathered in the middle of the floor, y/n's sister standing on the dj stand, her white dress brushing against the floor and picking up specs of dust and dirt, as she lifted the bouquet over her head.
y/n mother rested her hand on oscar's forearm, staring at him with a knowing look, hoping her other daughter would be the next to tie the knot.
sure enough, it was almost like fate as the boquet of white roses soared into the air, nailing y/n right in the face and tumbling into her arms as the other bridesmaids cheered. her face was pink and she was trying to hide behind the bouqet as delia came to pull her into a hug.
"i love you, sis. and i'm sorry i didn't know how to show it when we were younger." delia gushed, kissing her baby sister on the forehead before nodding her head at oscar. "you've got a good one. don't let him get away."
"i won't." she laughed, wiping at the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. "i love you, deels."
the song changed, a slow kesha ballad humming through the speakers as the singer crooned about her old flame, and how they couldn't hold a candle to her current love. she turned away from her sister, who had just gone to find her new spouse to dance with, only to see oscar, looking dapper in his black suit and bowtie.
"can i have this dance, my love?"
she smiled, leaving her bouquet with her mother before stepping into oscar's arms, wishing for nothing more than to wrap herself around him like a woolen sweater. she rested her head against his chest, allowing herself to fall into him while they swayed to the music, his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead as dolly parton began to sing the second half of the song.
man, she could really get used to this.
get used to oscar.
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @silverstonesainz @lorarri @love4lando @thatsdemko @diorleclerc
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Hey, do you like video games?
Then you should be mad at Unity right now! They are threatening the entire gamedev industry by making sudden new rules about how they charge. This threat is serious and literally could cripple the gaming industry. As an example, the devs of Cult of the Lamb have already said they will remove their game from all stores when the new Unity rules go into place, and I doubt they are the only ones. They will HAVE to do that to protect themselves financially, they are not overreacting. There may still be time to stop Unity, either through public outcry, or legal action, but we need to spread the word.
Here is a list of games on Steam that were made with Unity and therefore could be effected by this. I'll put some of them in the tags, but it's honestly overwhelming.
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gremlingottoosilly · 8 months
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[If you need to be mean] chapter 2
Chapter 1
Konig decided to meet his new favorite civilian at the cafe you work at. Unfortunately for both of you, you're both socially awkward. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)
Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective
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— Did something good happen, colonel? You are practically shining. 
Horangi always had this special ability of telling nonsense with the most serious face and deep voice. He also was the only one in his unit to ever be brave enough to joke with his superior – even though all the other KorTac members usually don’t risk their asses to be put on fire list because of some silly joke. He is the closest König has to a friend – and it’s kinda sad, actually, that a broken gambling addict is the only person who can read his emotions so well, even with his hood and permanently sour expression. 
But something good did happen – you happen, of course. 
He spend a few days of self-reflecting, drinking and punching training manekens in the gym, trying so fucking hard to put your adorable civillian face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, but the way your features would get distorted into something even more adorable every time he closed his eyes, was concerning. He dealt with those little obsessions before – nothing that a few good rounds of jerking off until he would feel nothing but emptiness and hatred to himself couldn’t handle. He surely can’t fall that deep down, he only saw you for like an hour and it was literally three days ago! 
— I read your reports about the last terrorist encounter. Good job, Horangi. 
— And I heard about that civilian girl you pulled, sir. Thought we are bringing those to the police, not their houses. 
— I had to make sure she wasn't a spy. 
— And she wasn’t? 
König thinks – would be far easier if he would have an official, legal reason to keep you locked up on the base without the right to come out. Would be far easier for him to just think about you as an enemy, so he would have normal reasons for thinking about you constantly, and not feeling guilty. It’s normal to think so much about your enemies – this is what keeps you alive on the field, if you can determine their shortcomings early and make sure that you can fight them. He would love having you as an enemy – it would at least give him some info before starting obsession over little ol’ you. 
— No. 
— That would give us at least some lead to the terrorist cell. Feels like all locals are protecting them from it. 
— I understand your frustration. But at least they are not cutting our pay. 
— We might as well rebel if they’d try to. 
— We are not stepping on terrorist’s route. 
— I was joking, sir. Only thing that’s left here except for card games. 
Horangi hates stationing in this country as much as König is – and, given that he is a sergeant and doesn’t have as much rank expectations, can talk about this openly. This operation is perfect except for the lack of intel, lack of action and lack of basically anything to do – the local forces are handling minor threats, while mercs here are mostly to show off how the government has money to hire them. KorTac would pay for actually having to fight some bad guys around here – but the bigger ones are hiding and lower ones are already getting tracked down by the local military. 
The only interesting thing to do, seemingly, is to obsess over local girls – and König thought he is better than this. 
But he isn’t losing sleep over thinking about how scared and fragile you looked that night. Especially not even going to think about how adorable your little pout was, and the way your hands were trembling. He definitely doesn't want to know every tiny detail about your life, what you like and what you hate, what is your favorite position in bed and the color of underwear you are currently wearing – or even if you are wearing one. And he isn’t some sort of creep that would spend an obnoxiously long amount of time registering on social media – god, he is too old for this shit, it literally feels even more humiliating than his whole school experience – just so he can find your accounts and get instant masturbation material. 
You really shouldn’t post so much half-naked photos – yes, this is a reel from your last summer vacation and yes, this swimsuit looks beautiful on you, but have you ever considered that some creep(not someone like him, he is palming himself very respectfully) would use those photos as a way to get themself off? Terrible, scary, he can’t wait for you to post some new photos – maybe in something that he would buy you, way skimpier and more expensive, so he could protect you from those people. 
He looks at your posts about work – and he hates this stupid blue bird app because it never works for him, always filled with some assholes who are trying to argue with literally everyone, and the way he can’t even see your posts properly because of the weird ads. No, he doesn’t need a “Thing that would make your dick longer” he literally has a problem with making it smaller. No, he doesn’t need some dumb T-shirt even though he kinda reflects with the funny pun about pokemons and would love to wear something containing his major interest even though it would look ridiculous on a 6 '10 killing machine. 
But König reads all of your short posts about the way you hate working in customer service, and his hand is almost slipping to the ad about wedding rings. You hate your job, he hates his – practically soulmates, even though he doesn’t really hate the killing part of his employment, he just doesn’t want to be in charge of people and making them steal the fun of destroying. He would, however, agree to get as many ranks as possible if that would mean providing for you. If that would allow him to be by your side and listen to your sweet voice, he would agree for the next promotion even if higher ups would want him to make some PR wawes and become a fucking fashion model. 
But he is completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing is wrong with him when he can’t even think about visiting you in real life, but he leaves a like on every of your posts in every social media he has – you have terrible online safety habits by the way, he can already see what the inside of your apartment looks like, your place of work from three different angles, and how the front door of your apartment is held together by a very easy to destroy lock. He could snatch it in one deliberate kick, not even speaking about just shooting it. Not like he would need to, he wants you to be with him willingly. Or, at least, don’t fight him too much in case he would actually lose his patience and do something drastic. 
It has already been three days and he feels like he is going crazy. He had those things before, overthinking about tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but even then he’d understand that he can’t be with them – it could be his school crushes that were, ironically, crushed because of his anxiety. It might be some casual flings with his fellow soldiers that would either get killed in the field or never happen because it would be fraternization. Some random people he saw at the airport and already imagined life with multiple kids and a dog. He always knew he had a problem – but it was never like this before. Never dangerous. 
The problem is – he knows that he can have you. 
Maybe not in a traditional way, he doubts that you would just marry him on the spot, but he can court you at least. He can shower you with gifts or ridiculous tips at your job, he can just snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate. He can make his men kidnap you, and while it is inhumane and you don’t deserve this, he would calm you down – and then have his happily ever after. 
He knows that he can have you – and it drives him crazy. He could stop himself previously, when he didn’t have anything for himself to be considered desirable – but now, with his rank and all the new opportunities and money it brings, he can’t stop but fantasize. 
You under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed from sweat and marked with his teeth.
You under him, so wonderfully tight, not letting him go even for an inch – and you are perfectly taking him, no matter how gigantic he is. 
You under him, smiling, cuddling after a long night – every night after a mission, where he could spend his free time deep in your body, listening to your melodic moans and little whines. 
You under…
— Can I…can I take your order, sir? 
He is a disgusting human being because lives of thousand people are on a stake, he would just doom them all if he wouldn’t find those terrorists soon – and he wastes time on sitting in this tiny ass cafe, trying to place himself on the small seat while being all too nervous to just talk to you. Like a person. Of course he had to go to your shift – he already determined which days you were working because it increased the number of angry “I hate my job and want to kill my manager” posts on that dumb social media, and he knows which hours you work at – of course it’s almost night time, the closing shift, because he simply can’t have himself not worry about you. 
He is a creep, weirdo and all that words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones all of these days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are munching on the pen you are using to write his order. Oh, yes, order. He is supposed to order something, he can’t just give you money for how adorable you look in that white apron – even though you are absolutely stunning and should get money. 
God, he would murder everyone in this building just for them to never look at your legs again. 
God, he would bury himself between them if only you’d allow him to.
— Sir, is everything okay? 
He served in the military for far longer that you lived, probably. Most of his life, he got used to being referred to as something honorable, or referring to other people like that – and he never thought that just being referred to as “sir” would make his dick twitch in his pants. He crosses his legs, hoping not to get too imposing – he already towers over the tiny table like a giant he is, barely even fitting in it. He thinks he has a healthy amount of self-control – then he looks at you again, and thanks all the gods he knows for the mask he is wearing – at least under the black surgeon piece and dark glasses you won’t really see his blush. Or that little twitching in his eyes that is indicating danger. 
— Sorry, I…can I, um, have a coffee? Bitte…please, I mean. 
He hates how nervous he is – like high school again, asking his crush out just to be ridiculed. But you look perfect like this – controlled environment, you can’t just laugh at him and say that he is a weird nerd from another class, you have a manager who is controlling of such behavior. He would never tell on you, of course, he wants you to be happy, even if this job makes you the most miserable – even though he kinda thinks of you as a weak for this, his job literally involves killing people and he doesn't argue that much! 
But you giggle – sweet, innocent sound, it drives him crazy even more than he previously was. It doesn’t feel like those girls at school – yes, he still can’t let that go, even though his therapist says he has to – and he loses all control at how beautiful you sound. He wants to take you away right now, pay you for your workplace however you get them, and just use you as he wants – no matter how socially unacceptable. He protects this country, he has the right for a little prize, right? No, this would be terrible, he shouldn’t just harass sweet little civilians like you, he should…
— What type of coffee, sir? Do you want some dessert? 
This is a typical question, he was at cafes and coffee shops a thousand times but, for some reason, it feels almost like you are teasing him. You bite the end of your pen with those adorable teeth of yours – he wants to feel it on his fingers, he wants you to leave bite marks all over his body as a sign of marking him as yours. He smiles under his mask, hoping that you would somehow feel it – how happy you make him feel, how hard it’s for him not to lose control. 
— No. Just coffee. 
— Sugar? 
He would like some sugar, of course – but the one he wants is probably not for sale, even though that adorable white apron of yours makes you look like a candy. He would love to unwrap you from those silly clothes and devour what belongs to him for the right of protector, but he knows how scared you might be. He is not a good person, he killed more people that he could count – countless fathers, sons, mothers, he shouldn’t even think about having a right for a family of his own after all of this. He is not a good person and his moral code changes with every kill he gets – but for hell sake, he wants to be nice with you. You deserve it, he knows. More than he is, for sure. 
König doesn’t really like sugary stuff, it was always too childish, made him too energetic, disrupted his very peculiar way of eating things. Sweets makes him only more hungry, makes him crave more, and he wants to be as serious as possible – so he usually drinks and eats stuff that is no tastier than a pile of dry sand. But he responds before he can think, too focused on that shiny lipgloss you have on your lips. He would lick and bite it all – soon, he hopes. 
— Ja. Thank you. 
— Good choice, sir.
Your lips are curling into a small, shy smile and he likes sugar now. He isn’t sure if you are telling everyone that their order is a good choice, maybe you just want to get more tips, but he hopes that maybe, he is special. Maybe there is something nice happening to him after all. A small reward for not being a total monster on the last mission he had, even though he could. He can’t do anything but to stare at you, his only saving grace is the dark lenses of his glasses – he can’t wear his hood in civil situations, unfortunately, people would stare, stare, stare and that would make him want to pull their eyes out. 
But you smile and he smiles also, even if you can’t see it. He is looking at your legs and, fuck, he is a disgusting old creature that preys upon younger women because he never had a positive experience before. He is a total creep and a monster that should be put down already – but he stares at your legs under that waitress dress, and he would pay your manager a few thousand Euros to cut the length of your skirt in half. 
Then he sees all the others looking at you the same way – old people, young people, there aren’t a lot of guests at this time in the evening, most people are afraid of going into public places while the war on terrorism is going on. There aren’t a lot of people while it’s almost closing time, but he doesn't even want to think about all the other men looking at you like this. Devouring you with their eyes, probably leaving sleazy comments as you go through the small cafe, just as overworked as your other coworkers. He wants to take you from here. 
You don’t deserve people looking at you like you aren’t even a person – only he can look at you respectfully, stripping you with his eyes. He can be soft for you, can be perfect – if you would just let him. 
König doesn’t want to be a creep around you, but he was looking at your legs for five minutes already, picturing the way your body would look under all of these clothes, and his cock gets painfully hard. He thanks himself for wearing normal, baggy pants, not something tighter – at least his embarrassment is completely covered by his clothes. 
— Here is your coffee. Anything else? 
You look nervous, of course – but he seems way softer than he was a couple days ago, at night. The absence of his creepy mask is obviously helping, and because he is sitting, you don’t have to tilt your head too high, causing your neck to stretch uncomfortably. He looks awkwards, like a big dog that still tries to fit into his old bed, and it causes you to smile a little bit more. You made sure to place a couple of sugar cubes on the plate, so he could decide for himself, if he wants to use them all – but the mere thought of that giant of a man, a colonel, hardened soldier liking something silly and sweet is making you giggle. 
He looks way softer than he was that night, and you can almost forget about how scared you were – how you were thinking that this would be the end for you, that one, overthinking part of your mind already making up the scenarios of getting martial lawed because of the broken curfew. You can even see his hair – and fight the urge to touch it a little. He is still who-knows-how-old and still a military presence in your peaceful country. 
You still want to ruffle his hair. 
He still wants to take your clothes off and make you his. 
— Nein, thank you. 
He stares at the cup for a good few seconds – if he wants to drink, he needs to actually take it off. He has many scars on his face, and his mouth sometimes feels like it has more dead skin than alive one – he doesn’t want to attract attention. Some people are already staring at his badge and how awkward a giant man like him looking in that cozy, tiny place – but he also wants you to see how much pain he can withstand without getting killed. How he can protect you from anything because there literally isn’t anything he won’t do for you. You would appreciate a man with scars, it’s a sign of bravery, right? 
Then he thinks about all the times he would take off his mask and how people around him would look at him – with pity, with fear, with disgust sometimes even though he is certain that his face isn’t as deformed as some other parts of his body. He even almost managed to grow a beard once! Then he had to scrub it all off because hair was growing in very uneven patches and he looked like something crawled on his chin and died. 
König fought in countless battles, spent his youth training to be the best killer possible, took part in many major conflicts and killed hundreds of people while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – except for talking to people sometimes, maybe, and even now he is trying to work on it with his therapist, instead of just killing anyone who looks at him funny. He isn’t afraid of the dark, of death, of uncertainty in his life. But he is afraid of you looking at him unmasked and thinking that you, in fact, find him disgusting. 
You almost want to take your time to look at what he will do – is he going to take off his mask? Is he going to drink right through the fabric? You have too much work to just stay at his table and stare, even if you want to – but you are trying to give him occasional glances as he just…sits at his table. Not even moving, just staring at the cup and sometimes moving his head to look at you – or just ornaments at the wall behind you. Yes, probably the ornament. 
König sits at the table and, well, he doesn’t even want to drink his coffee because just looking at the way your ass sways under that terribly short skirt is enough to set him on fire. He wants to take you home with him – even though his home is all the way up in Austria. He would take you, you probably wouldn’t even be mad at you – you could be a perfect little family. He already waited too long to start one, never finding anyone who would win his heart for a long run but he was sure that this three-days-obsession would last long. He isn’t sure, however, if he likes it or not. 
He ended up not drinking at all – he knows that he can’t just waste multiple hours, he already got his lieutenants covering the spot with paper work while their commander is away at searching for the love of his life. He wants to be with you longer, probably walk you home again and make sure to protect you from any creeps that would want to attack. He can’t have that, it’s obvious – he is a colonel, unfortunately, he is still on the hunt for those terrorists, he can barely give himself an hour of free time these days. 
He already indulged in his fantasies too much when he folds a 100 Euros banknote and puts it into the bill – not sure about how much money it is here, not wanting to give you any trouble with exchanging currency, he just hopes that would be enough for you to at least not worry about food for a few days. Or buy yourself something nice – what girls like these days? Guns, books, some fancy lip gloss, a hat for their adorable little turtles? He would buy you a pet turtle, he always wanted one as a kid – right before his father said that all lizards are products of sinful corporations and a lazy pet like a turtle, unlike a giant dog breed, is completely useless and unmanly. 
He doesn’t want to be here when you’ll get the bill – he is too afraid that he didn’t gave you enough, that you'd be disappointed. He would love to give you more, of course, but he doesn’t want to just shove you the money like you are some sort of cheap whore – he wants to give you gifts, something meaningful, to steal you from poverty altogether. König is an expert in infiltration and escaping arts, he can exit the location without anyone noticing a thing, even with his size – and then you look at him, directly into his eyes, covered by sunglasses – and your face is twisted in shock as you realize what exactly he left you. 
— Wait, sir! Please, I…god, I will get you the change right now, I’m so sorry, it’s closing shift, I…I’m sorry, I completely forgot…
You are almost begging him to stop and let you give him his money, a honorable deed really – but all he can think of is how nice you would look on your knees, begging him to fuck you already. How perfect you would look all whiny and spoiled, asking him for something expensive, whatever your cute head would want. You would look so complete on his lap, tugging on his shirt and asking your daddy for a new toy. You would…
— It was a tip. Take it. 
He wants to be able to tell you how perfect you look, how he wants to just throw you over his shoulder in a totally non-creepy way and make you his little wifey. How he would take multiple months of leave to just be with you, marry you, breed you. He wants to have a way with words, but they are useless to him – he can’t even say he likes you, it’s embarrassing, he is almost forty, he got his rank as youngest colonel in history of KorTac, he can literally have almost everything he wants – except for basic social skills. 
He feels like a creep, an old man trying to steal that perfect girl from the shiny world, and he hates himself for it – but then you blush and he can almost convince himself that yeah, you like that creep too. 
— I…shit, I mean, sorry…thank you, sir. 
— Don’t wander at night again. 
He feels like a scolding father and you giggle again, too innocent and naive to understand his thoughts. 
— I won’t. Promise. 
He then slowly leans closer, puts a hand on your shoulder again – goosebumps are running on your skin. His head is near yours now, he is whispering in your ear – and you are almost sure that you shouldn’t have come closer to him like this, that it’s unprofessional from your side, that everyone is staring at you. They are – and you try to ignore it, but…
— Wear shorts under your skirt next time. Never know who might look at your legs like that. 
You would slap him here and there. You would scream and run away right now, but for some stupid, dumb, completely terrifying reason, you…almost like how protective he sounds. And the money he gave you is also helping – even if just a little bit. 
König looks at the way you blush even more, and he knows already that he won’t ever let you go. 
Tag list: @iwritesjud3
Please write if you want to be tagged in the next chapter!
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flufftober · 9 months
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🍂 🍃 Hello and welcome to our third annual Flufftober 🍂 🍃
We’re so excited to be back and to once again have you here!
As always, let’s fill the month of October with as much fluff as possible 🥰 and for that to happen, we not only have 31 prompts for you, no; we also have something special this year...
Prompt Extras
Last year's Prompt Substitutes were very well-loved and a lot of you used them to replace some prompts from the original list. You're more than welcome to do this again if there's a prompt that doesn't work for you for whatever reason - no explanation needed.
Once again, we offer you last year's top five fan favorites (as voted in the end survey). In addition to that, we also offer five scenario prompts.
If you don't want to replace any prompt from the original list but still love the additional ones - or you simply want to challenge yourself - you can also mix them all together!
So in whichever way you use these Prompt Extras, have fun with them and go wild 💚
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Below the cut you'll find all our rules, posting info, all the prompts in writing, as well as some explanation for prompts we feel might need clarification. If you have any more questions, please feel free to send us an ask 🥰
We hope you like these prompts, and now
Happy Creating 🥳
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Standard Blog Rules & FAQ
No inc*st or p*dophilia - we can’t keep you from writing it or creating art for it but it won’t be reblogged. See further down for clarification.
No hate or ship bashing - we’re all different and we all love different things. As long as it doesn’t go against rule #1, it’s allowed.
Tag correctly! Trigger warnings (including cheating!), ships, ratings, (pure) smut, etc - it’s all fine as long as you tag it.
There’s absolutely no word count restriction, write as little or as much as you like.
In regards to art, anything goes: drawings, paintings, collages, mood boards, gifsets, videos, playlists… the sky’s the limit (though not really…)
While we can’t force you to write fluff or create fluffy art, please try to keep in mind that this is a fluff event 😉
You can start writing and/or arting as soon as you see this - but please refrain from posting before the respective day.
You can participate on as many days as you like, even if it’s just one; you can also create multiple entries for the same day.
You can replace prompts from the original list with either or all of our prompt extras; you can also mix them with the original prompts or create for them in addition to the 31 original prompts, that's completely up to you.
It’s okay to write one story/a series for all the prompts as long as it’s separated into chapters and the respective chapter/work is posted on the given day.
You do not have to stick to one ship or even one fandom - switch as often as you like to or even write for multiple ships for one day.
The ship does not have to be a romantic one! Friendship and family feels are more than welcome (but this is not a way to get around rule #1!)
This event can be combined with other events as long as the other event allows it.
Late entries are always welcome, even if it is months later.
All fandoms and ships are welcome - fanon and canon - as long as they’re of age (in case you want to add smut) and not related.
Since this has often been asked in previous years, please let us clarify the no inc*st or p*dophilia rule:
No inc*st: This rule does not apply to distant cousins and such, as you might find in the LotR fandom (or basically in all of European Monarchy). The line we draw is at direct blood relations (siblings, parents, kids) and/or legal guardianship.
No p*dophilia: This rule does not rule out fandoms that feature teenagers such as Harry Potter, Heartstoppers, Hunger Games, etc. It also doesn't mean you can't write about their time together as teenagers! It was mostly aimed at ships in which one is a minor and the other is not - but since even that got complicated over time, the rule is now this: if you keep it SFW, all is good and allowed, we don't care; if it turns NSFW, be mindful of the legalaties of the world/society/times your characters live in.
Posting
Posting to tumblr
Please use the tag #flufftober2023
Since tags are sometimes wonky, make sure to also add @flufftober in your post
We will try to catch them all, but please don't be mad if we miss a post or if it gets reblogged a bit late
If you're absolutely certain a post has slipped past us, feel free to send an ask with the link to your post
To make reblogging easier for us, make sure to add the following tags: #flufftober2023 #day [xy] #[fandom] #[ship and/or main character(s)]
If you're using a prompt extra tag it as #alt [number]
Posting to ao3
You can add your creation to the collection flufftober2023 or flufftober_2023 (yes, we've once again claimed both)
Late entries are always welcome, on tumblr as well as the ao3 collection! Neither will close - but like always, reblogs will become less regular the more months have passed...
Prompts (and explanations)
1. “I’ve got you”
2. Family, Friends, Loved Ones
3. “Wait you love me?” - “I always have”
4. Cinderella Moment (the "ugly duckling" gets their moment to shine)
5. x + 1 (can be a classic "5+1 things" [or any number you want] creation or literally a plus one for an event or really anything else you can think of)
6. Corn Maze
7. Porch Swing
8. Rainy Day
9. (...) at first sight (think "love at first sight", "enemies at first sight"...)
10. Love of my Life (even this does not have to be romantic 😉)
11. Sweet Tooth
12. Fire & Ice
13. Wrong (...) (think "wrong number", "wrong train", "wrong person"...)
14. “I hate it” - “No, you don't”
15. Emergency, Confession, Adventure
16. Singing one another to sleep
17. Encouraging someone to achieve a goal
18. “Did you plan for this to happen?”
19. Keeping someone safe
20. Pumpkin
21. Swoon
22. Picking (think "picking flowers", "picking up someone", "picking out a dress", "picking a song for the wedding"...)
23. Trinket
24. [melting emoji] (does anyone even know what this emoji stands for? No? We neither but we would love for you to get creative with it 😉 but also, think "melting in the heat", "melting from embarrassment"... also, I would've loved to add it here but tumblr doesn't have this emoji yet)
25. Nook
26. Fireplace
27. Outdoor Event (think "hiking tour", "concert", "picnic"...)
28. Soothing Touch
29. “Hey, wake up!”
30. Self-Worth / Self-Love
31. Dreams Do Come True
Prompt Extras
Last Year's Favorites
Alt 1: Hot Chocolate
Alt 2: “You’ve told your parents?”
Alt 3: Wearing Each Other’s Clothes
Alt 4: Candles, Lanterns, Fairy Lights
Alt 5: “Oh no, you’re a Morning Person!”
Scenarios
Alt 6: Reverse all the Roles
Alt 7: Create a Fairytale Retelling
Alt 8: Give your character a new occupation
Alt 9: Create a crossover of two or more fandoms
Alt 10: Have your characters share the last table at a café
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house-of-lovin · 10 months
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legally binded - 6
Jenna Ortega x F!Reader
masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part
Chapter 6: Met Gala and Miscommunication
Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.
Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)
(this is all fiction!)
Note: SHADOWBAN IS A BITCH
Word Count: 7.2k+ (i dont know how this happened)
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“Y/N! Over here, please! To your right!” 
“One over the shoulder, please!”
“Can we get one straight head!”
Shouting and flashes are all you can hear once you step out of the van, one hand bunching up the large gown, the other in Link’s as he helps you down. You and Jenna had to take separate cars because your outfit was too large, a decision that you are mentally thanking the Gods.
There’s no way you can be around her right now. 
Which is going to be a problem because you two have to make your first official red carpet appearance. Other than the usual eyes on you already; you are on the panel of hosts which means the attention on you two will be upped more so than usual. Not to mention, she’s also your date for the evening.
A fact that the media was anticipating. By the increasing decibel of the screaming around you as Jenna approaches, you knew then just how many people were truly watching your every move.
“Hi…” She says once she’s in earshot. The train of her custom coat was dragging on the ground as she walked. 
“Hey.” You mumble, not looking at her. 
“Can we not do this he–” She sighed at your tone.
“Let’s walk the carpet. I’m needed inside.” You cut off, extending your hand for her to take.
Clenching her jaw, she glanced at your open palm with a flat look before relenting; sliding her smooth hand into yours, grasping it tightly. 
Almost too tightly, like she was trying to crush your ring-clad fingers.
But it'd be a lie to say that you didn’t miss the familiar grooves of her skin— even if she was crushing your hand at the moment.
“Ow, stop.” You grit.
Jenna merely kisses her teeth, but eases on her grip.
“Let’s get this over with.” You mumbled, tugging her along.
The sounds of both your heels clicking against the pavement and the incessant shouting from the crowd and media were all you can hear as you dragged the actress to walk past the other celebrities waiting in line to walk to the carpet. 
You know Jenna wants to say something but one glance at your scowl and she knew better. Maybe imperceptible to most, but over these last few months, she’s learned to pick up on a few cues.
Like now, the slight downturn of your bottom lip, the crease between your brow and the clenched jaw were all signs that you were not in the mood.
“Y/N, wait.”
But you don’t. You merely keep walking until you’re both standing in the very front. “Don’t we need to wait our turn?”
You cast her a side glance. “No.” Then turn, spotting a familiar face. 
The very same face of the person who organizes this whole gala.
“Y/N, darling. Don’t you and your woman look ravishing.” Anna Wintour walks to you both.
“Thank you, Anna. You look lovely tonight as well.” You plaster a large, pearly white smile; kissing the older woman on both cheeks.
Jenna feels the heat of the flashes on you three, instantly.
When Anna Wintour turns to her, she mimics your greetings, expressing her own gratitude for the invite.
“I’ll let you two walk the carpet. The press has been waiting eagerly for you two.” She winked before walking off. 
You couldn’t even fight the blush forming on your cheeks if you tried. At least, you can blame it on the makeup you had on if anyone called it out.
“Let’s go?” You turn to the other actress.
Jenna nodded and you allowed her to lead you to the bottom of the large steps of the iconic museum. 
Immediately, a flurry of photographs are taken and shouting of your and Jenna’s name is belted as you actively fight to not tear up.
The two of you pose expertly by yourselves before coming back together to show off your couple-themed outfit, obeying the directions from the photographers as they shout which position to pose in. 
“You okay?” You glance down at Jenna as you were standing behind her, one arm wrapped around her waist when you realize she felt tensed under your touch.
You knew she dealt with anxiety at times, especially during very public events such as this, so you squeeze her waist reassuringly; letting her know that you're right here.
When she blinks up at you slowly, you curse yourself for feeling mesmerized. Her highlighted-freckled cheeks reflected the camera flashes back at you and the white carpet juxtaposed her dark, steampunk-esque outfit and suddenly, you are sure that you're staring at the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Yeah…” She reassured, softly placing her hand atop yours that was wrapped around her waist. 
“That’s perfect guys!”
“Can we get a kiss from the couple!” Someone yells when they see Jenna meet your eyes, influencing the others to start their own slew of requests for PDA.
You freeze, not expecting them to be so immodest with their demands. But you don’t have time to make the decision for yourself because Jenna was making it for you.
She turns in your hold, slotting herself firmly against your side and placed her ring-clad fingers coolly on your neck, pulling you in for a delicate and modest kiss.
In quick, lens-fluttered successions the moment is captured in time. 
You couldn’t even hear the screaming of the paparazzi get louder as the two of you are practically blinded by the camera shutters. Distantly you can hear the crowd of fans camping across the street screaming as well.
But it all sounded fuzzy when her lips pressed against yours.
When she pulled away, you were still staring at her lips, breathing a bit laboured. The pounding in your chest intensified when her eyes flickered to yours; trying to read your reaction.
You don’t have time to think about it because you’re hurriedly being ushered up to the top of the steps where an interviewer was waiting overeagerly.
“Wow, you two are surely going to be the talk of the night. Tell me everything, who are you two wearing?” The enthusiastic and slightly familiar-looking lady spoke into the mic before holding it up to you and Jenna. 
“I am wearing a reconstructed tuxedo jacket dress by Thom Browne and Y/N is actually wearing a custom, one-of-a-kind collaboration, a Prada and Thom Browne ball gown,” Jenna answers for both of you, wrapping an unsuspecting arm around your waist. 
The interviewer’s eyes sparkled with delight at the information, “Just amazing. The two of you look like a million bucks.  Tell me, what was the inspiration behind these two looks? ‘Cause to me, it’s giving goth wedding at the Met Gala.” 
She turns to the camera, nodding approvingly. 
You couldn’t help the laugh that releases from your lips, nodding, “I guess it is giving that… but really, I have to give credit to Jenna. She’s the one who thought of the bride and groom concept. I just showed up.”
“Am I sensing you’re the brains in this relationship?” The interviewer teases, leaning into Jenna, who nodded politely.
“Yeah — I guess you can say that.” She gives into the joke. 
“Wow… I’m right here.” You play into it as well.
“Now, I gotta ask 'cause they’ll get mad if I don’t. But any comments on the Vegas incident and rumours of your arrest regarding the drug allegations?” She whispered the last part.
At least, she made it sound like she was apologetic. 
Clenching your jaw, you tried to plaster a tight-lipped smile about to give an answer. But before you could open your mouth, Jenna squeezed your waist, cutting in. She glanced at you worriedly for a moment, before speaking seriously into the mic; keeping her hold on your midsection; firm.
“The accusations against Y/N are not true and quite frankly, the backlash she’s been getting online, I feel, is unwarranted and unfair. That’s all we’re saying about the matter, thank you.” Then she pulled you inside and away from the vicious teeth of the piranhas, not bothering to listen to the interviewer’s sputtering protests.
Jenna tugged you down a desolate hallway, ignoring everyone else in the way. Frantically whipping her head to try to find a secluded corner. When she does, she pressed you against a column; hidden from the view of prying eyes.
Only then, did you feel like you could breathe, not even realizing how tense your shoulders had been.
“Are you okay?” She scanned you worriedly; grasping your hand in a tender manner; swiping her thumb across the skin. 
“Yeah… yeah — fine.” you glance down at your hands, squeezing them unconsciously.
"Are you sure?" She asked, still studying your startled features.
Your ability to swiftly hide your real emotions should be studied really, cause Jenna blinked and suddenly you were deadpan as if nothing happened.
"Yes. I'm fine. It's what I signed up for." You muttered the last part.
The sigh Jenna lets out is heavy and annoyed. For a moment, you think you see her eye twitch.
“Can you not say that phrase, right now." She chided.
Scoffing, you answer back, "You wanna talk about not doing something? What about what you said during the interview? You know it’s just gonna make things worse."
Her jaw dropped before laughing hollowly. “Are you serious? What, you wanted me to stay silent?”
“No! Just—“ You sighed, clenching your jaw, “you should’ve let me handle it.”
Jenna rolled her eyes, pulling her hand away. “We’ll talk about it later… if you don’t run away.” Muttering the last part, she sauntered off; heading to your table where Enrique and Link were sitting — your posse for the night.
Those two are in for a treat, you thought.
You couldn’t even chase her down even if you wanted to because a Gala worker was already ushering you backstage to go over last-minute notes before the show started.
Jenna leaned back against the stiff, rigid chairs, fiddling with the fancy rolled napkin on her china dish, trying to suppress her sigh.
“You okay?” Link nudged her elbow after noticing the actress' slumped shoulders.
Jenna and Link have formed an… alliance of sorts. Since the two of you have been spending more time together, she’s formed an unsuspecting bond with your closest friend and confidant.
He was someone that she felt she could trust because you trusted him wholeheartedly. 
“Mhmm.” She hummed absentmindedly, continuing to pick on the napkin just watching how her glossy french-manicured black nails reflected the light back from the wisping flame on the table.
“What’s up? Is it Y/N?” He glanced over his shoulder, trying to spot you.
“It's nothing…” She dismissed.
"Oh, you guys are really fighting? I thought this was just one of your petty arguments, again." He saw through her instantly.
She didn't even answer, just elected to roll her eyes as a response.
"What about Coachella? You guys were fine then, you even kissed, remember?" He raised a brow in question.
Jenna’s forehead creased, frowning. “Of course, I do. But then I learned that she may get arrested? Y/N never brought it up, once. I never even knew if it was true. So sorry, if I’m a little mad about being left out of something important — something that affects me too.”
The assistant ran a rough hand down his jaw, exhausted. “Look, no one’s saying you can’t have feelings on the matter — they’re valid. But come on, Y/N can’t catch a break.”
“Who’s fault is that?” She whispered back harshly, clenching the napkin in her hand too tight.
Link’s eyes raised in shock. “Huh… I guess you really did make up your mind. Feel what you feel, but all I’m saying is hear her out.”
Then he stands, walking away from the table.
Maybe off to find you? Who knows, all Jenna feels is a slight pressure forming in between her brows and the night’s barely started.
She had a feeling she was in for a long one.
Jenna didn't have time to sulk about it because the Gala was starting. A man in a tuxedo walked to centre stage with a mic in hand. “Thank you, everyone, for coming tonight and supporting the Met's Costume Institute. Now, can we give a warm welcome to this year’s panel who made this Met Gala possible… introducing…”
Jenna sighed lifting her head up, watching as you appeared from the backstage, walking elegantly with the other co-hosts and Anna Wintour.
“Penelope Cruz, Michaela Coel, Roger Federer, Dua Lipa, Y/N L/N and Vogue’s Anna Wintour.” The presenter named.
You send the room a show-stopping smile, squinting when the spotlights hit your retinas at an unpleasant angle. When your eyes settled onto the crowd they instantly meet Jenna’s but you’re averting them just as quickly.
She pretended not to notice.
The room cheers for all of you up on stage but she doesn’t hear the introductory speech each of you give.
Not even yours because all she could do was stare at you.
You looked regal.
And that frustrated Jenna because she's supposed to be mad at you.
But she had to admit, a small part of her liked riling you up and making you mad.
The furrow in your brow and frown on your lips when you are, is a face that Jenna’s secretly grown fond of. 
But since the two of you have gotten closer, you’ve shown her that you indeed do have a heart, albeit a little cold and prickly at times. 
Despite that, Jenna found herself still wanting to hold your delicate heart even if it hurts.
But there’s only so much she can do when the Universe decides to throw another curve ball toward you.
So, no. 
You’re not off the hook just yet.
She watched as the crowd dispersed when the speech finished and stars and celebrities from all entertainment forms kick off the night of socializing. Jenna noticed you instantly get pulled to a far corner of the room by some executives.
Jenna didn’t feel like doing the shop talk so she elected to stay in her seat; no matter how anti-social she seemed.
“Jen, we need to socialize... I know you don’t want to, but you know.” Enrique nudged.
“Okay, okay…” 
And like the actress she is, she plastered on her best smile and floated around the room, making sure everyone saw her face.
At one point she found herself actually enjoying a conversation. 
“Your date is busy tonight.” A voice commented, sliding into the seat beside her. 
“Olivia.” Jenna sighed in relief at seeing a familiar face, swiftly leaning over to give her friend a hug.
“It’s so nice to see you again, Jenna.” The singer embraced back.
“Are you at this table?” She asked once she’d pulled away.
“Yeah, I think this is the Thom Browne table actually.” Olivia turned around to examine the fancy stock card with calligraphy writing.
“Great…” Jenna nodded, already feeling her spirits lift a bit at seeing a familiar face.
She placed the card back onto the table, “Enjoying your night?”
“Yeah… it’s only my second time here but it’s always nice to be invited.” Jenna replied honestly, feeling the tension loosen within her at being reunited with an old friend.
“What about her?” Olivia nudged, nodding to you standing across the room, exchanging pleasantries with a few musician friends.
“She’s been very busy tonight.” Jenna comments, watching as you work the room. Everyone had their bodies turned to you as you gestured animatedly. Even from afar, she can see your confident posture and slightly raised chin. Briefly, she wonders how you make it look so easy. “But I think she’s enjoying herself too.”
“Good…” Olivia smiled.
“Hi! what’re we talking about?” Florence Pugh slides in.
“Florence, hi! Nice to see you again.” She leaned to kiss the other woman’s cheeks — they exchange the usual pleasantries and compliments.
“Our Met Gala experience…” Olivia answered.
“Oh! How is it, you reckon?” She sipped on her vodka martini with the etiquette of a royal. “This is my first one.”
“I’m having a good time..” Jenna answered.
“Sensing a but?” The bald woman waved her manicured hand.
“Oh no…” Jenna flushed at being called out, glancing as you talked to the likes of: Dua Lipa, Usher, Jack Harlowe. “No buts…”
“Alright...” Florence relents, sipping on her martini. She glances in Jenna’s line of sight spotting you. 
“Oh! Hailee!” Florence kisses her teeth, “that girl told me she wasn’t going to come. Excuse me girls.”
Florence muttered apologies, drifting over to your group. Jenna watched as the Brit strolled over, her line of sight drifting back over to you, embracing this Hailee with a bright genuine smile and a grip on the other woman’s waist far too low for someone who’s supposed to be in a very public relationship.
With furrowed brows, she watched on in confusion as you started catching up, still in each other’s arms as if two lovers reunited after a long war.
Jenna’s throat started feeling funny.
Forcing herself to look away, she grabbed the glass of water to drink to ease the unpleasant feeling.
“Is that Hailee Steinfeld?” Olivia asked from beside her, tilting her head to the side as she watched on as well.
“I think so…”
“Isn’t she Y/N’s ex?” The other titled their head to the side in question and Jenna found herself spinning back around in her seat to find you across the room.
You were now talking in a circle, but Hailee was standing close by your side.
Olivia glanced at Jenna’s sudden reaction. “Uh sorry—I didn’t mean that with bad intentions..”
“It’s alright…” Jenna mumbled, still watching your every move.
“Sorry, girlie,” Olivia mumbled, then shrugged. “For what it’s worth, I think they ended on good terms.”
Oh did you? Jenna thought. She’d never heard of an ex.
“That’s nice…” Jenna tried to mutter indifferently. Keyword: Tried.
“Are you jealous?” The singer asked, laughing a little.
“No!” Jenna flushed from the question.
“I wouldn’t worry about it… I saw you two on the carpet. I wish someone looked at me like that.” Olivia winked and then grabbed her drink, walking away.
All Jenna could do was stare holes into you hoping you felt it.
But you didn’t.
— 
“Excuse me.” 
Excusing yourself from the group, you step back, glancing around the large room. Dimmed chandelier lighting hung from the ceilings and an assortment of fabrics and flowery littered the Gala’s tall walls.
You were in charge of this year's decor, working with world-renowned interior designers for the annual gala and not to brag but you quite outdid yourself.
The space looked amazing.
During your once-over of the room, you spot Jenna sitting by herself at your table. Immediately, a pang of guilt rumbles in your chest. She looked kind of lonely just sitting there, people-watching.
Sighing, you contemplated your choices.
On one hand, you could be the more mature one and make the first move, save face for the night or you can stay true to character and ignore your obvious tensions with the other actress.
But if one more person looked at you pitifully, the word cocaine on the tip of their tongue but never actually saying it out loud then you might just pull out your own damn hair.
At least some music industry friends patted you on the back and said ‘happens at least once’ — that did not make you feel better but the sentiment counts?
You walk in slow steps toward Jenna, silently sliding into the empty seat next to her. Her head snapped to yours immediately.
“Hi…” You greet with a tight-lipped smile. “Enjoying your night?”
“Mhmm.” Jenna hummed, looking away.
You sighed, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. 
“Can we just… table this, for later? I don’t want to fight.” You frowned, calling a truce.
Jenna glanced at you, only offering a reluctant, “Okay..”
Knowing that was probably the best you’re gonna get from her, you settled against the chair and let silence take over as you join in on the people-watching.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Jenna asked, not being able to stand the silence. She can take the fighting, the banter, the bickering, but this type of silence with you? It sends an unsettling feeling within Jenna that she didn’t enjoy.
“Mhmm. I think so. Everyone seems to be having a good time, so I think I can finally relax.” You commented as you scanned the room.
“Give yourself some credit, everything looks amazing. I can tell you picked the centrepieces.” She snorted, picking up the ornamental piece.
You laughed, letting your walls down. “What? Too much?”
“Too bright and flashy…” She scrunched her nose, the sparkling item clinked loudly as she held it with her ring-covered fingers.
“You’d just prefer if everything came in the colour black.” You took the item from her hand, scanning it yourself. “I don't know I think it adds to the ambiance.”
“Black goes with everything.” She defended.
You send her a knowing look. "I rest my case."
Your short-lived banter with the other actress was cut short when a Gala employee promptly explained that the Thom Browne table was needed for photos and videos for the Met’s ad campaign. 
The two of you take solos, couples and group photos with the Thom Browne table; showing off your outfit for tonight.
“We look good…” Jenna noted – looking at the monitor as your pictures were pulled up.
Leaning forward, unconsciously leaning over Jenna’s shoulder, you looked. “Yeah, we do.”
Jenna looked up at you, wanting nothing more than to press back into you — but nope, not this time. Instead, she forced herself to avert her gaze and walk out of the room, not bothering to wait for you.
Trying not to make a scene, you praise the entire photography team, thanking them for their time and slid out of the room, speed-walking to Jenna.
“Are you going to act like this the whole night?” You fall into step beside her, walking down the empty hallway leading back to the main room.
Jenna stayed silent. Only the clicking of heels on the marble tiles bouncing off the tall walls can be heard.
“Jenna…” You sighed, trying again, “What happened to tabling it?.”
“I-I can't right now, Y/N." She frowned deeper and your heart clenched; steps faltering at her words. You stayed rooted as she walked further down the hall, leaving you behind.
“Trouble in paradise?” You spun on your heels, immediately spotting Hailee – who also happened to be your ex-girlfriend.
“The hell? Where’d you come from?” You clutched your chest in fright, staring at the brunette woman.
She just laughed and stood beside you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was on my way outside and I just saw that look and… well. I felt like I couldn’t ignore it.”
When you looked at her, all you saw was softness in her eyes; sympathy. But this time it didn’t feel bad coming from her. Because at one point in your life, Hailee knew you better than you knew yourself.
“Everything is fine.” You lie, averting your eyes. There are very few people that could read you well. It seems like Hailee is still one of those people.
“Mhmm…” She didn’t push.
“I used to hate it when you did that.” You chuckled prompting Hailee to laugh and nod in agreement. 
You and Hailee dated when you were both very active in the Marvel Universe. 
Real loose on the word: dated. Because well you didn’t technically. 
She was filming Hawkeye and you were filming Spider-Man: No Way Home and you both just happened to be filming in both New York and Atlanta at roughly the same time.
Somehow, you and Hailee found yourselves growing closer while filming your respective projects. The two of you grabbed lunch together every day, which turned into dinners at the other’s place, then sleepovers when it got too late to go home and then eventually, a relationship.
There was never an explicit conversation about being together, but you two acted like it anyway. You two even wrote a few songs together.
But, like all things in your life, you self-sabotage. You couldn’t allow yourself to really be in with Hailee like she wanted; like she needed.
So she ended things with you right after you both wrapped your projects. There was no bad blood and you knew that the girl breaking your heart was making the right decision because you can’t give her what she wants. 
You two are better off friends anyway.
“Yeah, you did…” She laughed. “Still gonna say it though.”
You rolled your eyes, sighing heavily. It’s just Hailee, you don’t need to put up a facade. Not like it’d matter if you did anyway, she can read you so easily. “Wouldn’t expect anything different from you…”
Hailee glanced around the empty hallway again for a moment, thinking. “Hey… wanna go out for a smoke?”
It certainly beats having to sit in silence beside Jenna.
“Sure, why not?”
– 
“So… You and Jenna Ortega?” Hailee passes the lit cigarette after taking a puff, a cloud of smoke escaping her lips after exhaling.
You grab the bud when she passes it, “Yeah…” Inhaling, deep and long, you started to feel the familiar plight of light-headedness as you visibly untensed your shoulders.
“How’d that happen?” She asked, looking over the balcony and onto the traffic below.
“Our team’s introduced us…” You answered honestly.
This was the first time since Vegas that you’ve been around colleagues and friends in the business. You haven’t exactly had time to come up with a better excuse as to how you met Jenna. “And then yeah… we just started talking.”
“You sound like such a guy…” She snorted, taking the cigarette from your fingers. 
“And you sound like Link.”
“I saw him earlier, he seems good. I’m glad you kept him around, someone’s got to look after you.” She rolled her eyes but there was a hint of honesty and sadness in them that you could read.
“Yeah. He’s definitely kept me standing on my feet these last few months.” 
“And Jenna? Has she kept you standing these last few months too?” She asked inquisitively, scanning you and for a moment, you were stunned in silence.
Your life has certainly changed a lot since you met the younger actress. 
What you and Jenna have is something you’ve never felt around someone before. You two shouldn’t work; you’re highly volatile together and so opposite in the way you view life but somehow, it still worked.
Like the ying to your yang or whatever shit they say. 
Then she kissed you under that smoggy night at Coachella and you haven’t been able to keep her off your mind since.
Ah, Coachella. It seemed so long ago, despite it only being a mere week.
You two still haven’t talked about it in the midst of these arrest headlines.
It was like the elephant in the room surrounded by much larger elephants.
You remember the taste of her kisses. They were way softer than you ever imagined; not that you imagined it a lot… and the way her skin burned against yours when she tugged you closer?
You can pass away tomorrow and you’d be content with the life you’ve lived whenever you thought of that blissful night spent in each other’s arms.
There’s something about the other actress that made you unconsciously lower your walls. Walls that you’ve spent a long time building to hide the parts that you want to close off to the rest of the world.
 But somehow, someway, Jenna sees through so easily even if she didn’t know it herself.
You’re not quite certain you’re ready for what potential you and Jenna can have if you truly opened yourself up to her.
Her constant presence has been surprising and terrifying all at the same time. It felt comforting to be around her and her family. Not that you would ever say that out loud — god you wonder what her parents think about you now.
“Especially her.” You find yourself answering honestly anyway, blinking to meet Hailee’s eyes.
Her smile is kind and soft, seemingly pleased. “Good. I’m so happy for you. You deserve someone like her. I can tell she’s special… don’t fuck it up.”
You blushed under the weight of her compliments. “Oh. I–I won’t.”
She rolled her eyes, knowing you’d never been one to gush about your feelings. “Come on, let's head back. Jenna might be looking for you.” 
Then she winked, throwing away the finished cigarette.
“You’re annoying.” But the singer/actress just laughed.
When you make it back to the party, Hailee is bidding you goodbye with a kiss on the cheek and a tight squeeze, muttering “don’t be a stranger” in your ear.
The first thing you do when Hailee leaves is briskly walk to the bar. Feeling like a drink is very much needed after all that…
“Tequila soda, please. Make that a double.” You lean against the bar top.
“Where have you been?” Jenna slides in out of nowhere, startling you. “People have been asking me about you.”
“Grabbing some air…” You trail off, scanning her for a moment; noting her tightly wound brows creating a crease on her forehead.
“With Hailee?” She crossed her arms, raising a brow.
“Yeah, we went out for a smoke.” You answered honestly, raising a brow of your own.
“A smoke?” She asked, fingers tightly gripping the fabric of her blazer dress.
“Yeah… you know, a cigarette?” You shrugged, turning to the approaching bartender. “Thanks… “
“I’d have asked you…” You spoke after picking up your drink, taking a moment to scan her head to toe. “But you don’t seem like the smoking type.”
Then you take a sip, ignoring Jenna’s twitching eye and scoff, scanning the room and upon initial glance you already see a few eyes watching you and Jenna closely — making you tense.
Without much thought to your next move, you stepped into her space, wrapping an arm around her corset-fitted waist making her flinch, uncrossing her arms. “What are you—“
You cut off her snippy tone, leaning close to her ear; nose in her dark hair.
“People are watching…” You whisper. 
Immediately, she’s placing a hand on your chest, pushing you lightly but you don’t budge. You decide to up the ante when you still see the nosy eyes; obviously talking about you and Jenna.
You leave a litter of light-feathered kisses up and down the side of her neck. “Stop being so tense…”
“You’re taking advantage of the situation…” She muttered but tilted her head to the side allowing you more access to her skin.
From the outside, it looked like nothing more than two people in love.
“I’m playing my part for the press…” You bite her earlobe, lightly. Jenna bites her lip to refrain from uttering a moan. This is definitely not the time or the place. “You should too since you love to throw that word around.”
“What—what does that mean?” She asked, breathing a bit laboured the longer you continued your ministrations on her neck. By now, she was grasping your outfit with a death grip.
“Nothing…” You run your teeth against her skin, your whispers turning into low breaths, “Just saying… it seems like your favourite word these days.”
“You sound mad about that…” She whispers back challengingly. 
Jenna was trying everything not to moan out loud in this very packed room.
“Mhmm. Do I?” You grip her waist, flushing her against you. The whimpered moan she lets out in your right ear when you do has your legs shaking.
“Just a bit.” She puffed out, brokenly.
“Good.” You growled, biting the spot behind her ear and running your tongue against the skin. It wasn’t enough to bruise the other actress but it’s surely enough to send a message. When you pull back, you brush her fringe back with a delicate and hesitant touch.
Jenna’s eyes were hollowed and dazed, silently tracking your fingers as they moved her hair aside and if you two weren’t in the middle of a fight, you’d tease her over it.
“I think dinner’s about to start… wanna head back?” You asked, watching as she just stared into your eyes with now, a look you couldn’t quite decipher.
“Yeah…” She clears her throat, stepping away from your hold, letting your delicate hand fall limply by your side. You try not to put too much meaning on the rejection.
She walked ahead of you, leading you back to your table but she never looked back at you once.
– 
The rest of the Met was spent with very little eating, a lot of socializing and saving face. This time, Jenna had stuck by your side as you made shop talk; introducing her as your girlfriend as everyone gushes about the two of you and the headlines you’ve been making as a couple online. You kept a hand around her waist as you two practically waltzed from group to group, in case there were ever eyes.
Neither of you mention when you keep your hand on her waist, even when no one was looking anymore.
But now, you are back at the hotel with your glam team and stylists getting you ready for the after-parties.
Thoughts of your talk with Jenna are put on the back burner as you desperately hoped to drink and party away the rest of the night; hoping you can still make somewhat of it, good, enjoyable even.
God knows you deserve it after the bullshit you’ve been receiving from everyone and their mothers about your night in Vegas.
You sat in front of the vanity mirror as your team hurriedly bustles behind you.
Fishing for your phone, you pull up Instagram and catch up on other people's posts for tonight. Since the days started, you've been pulled left and right with rehearsals and fittings and finally the actual Gala.
You haven't even so much as held your phone in your own hand.
Photos of you and Jenna have been posted on a minute-to-minute basis from the moment you stepped out of the hotel to just 20 minutes ago when you were both making your way back to get ready for the after-parties.
A certain video catches your eye.
It was of Jenna being escorted out into the hotel. (You two had to take your respective vans back, as well.) She was sending the fans waiting by the hotel, a soft and charming smile as she greeted them. You were staring at the video for so long that you didn’t even see the caption.
‘DID YOU SEE HER LOCKSCREEN?! &lt;;3’
You see the next few comments below the caption of the video.
‘Stop Y/N and Jenna with her niece? This is the cutest photo ever’
‘They have kids already?’
‘IM CRYING JENNA’S LOCKSCREEN IS Y/N AND HER NIECE’
‘ISNT THIS THE PICTURE THAT JENNA’S MOM POSTED??”
‘ACTUAL PARENTS’
Oh shit, you are her lock screen.
When did she even send herself those photos? They were taken on your phone.
And more importantly, why did she make you and her niece, her lock screen? You thought the two of you were merely bantering when you had said you were going to make her yours. 
“How much longer are you gonna stare at that video?” Link asked from behind you making you jump, almost throwing the phone in the air.
“The fuck? Why is everyone sneaking up on me tonight…” You muttered bitterly, shooting him a glare through the mirror when you see his smirk.
You’re not sure if your pounding heartbeat is from the scare or from the thought of Jenna having you as her lock screen.
“You’re Jenna’s lock screen?” He asked in a teasing tone. You don’t reply just opting to close your eyes and groan as a response. 
He laughed. “Doesn’t seem like PR behaviour to me.” 
“Stop.” You grit.
But Link just howls, too amused by your flushed demeanour. 
He’s seen you in many forms.
At your highest, lowest, best and brightest, and even when you’ve been deep in the trenches. He’s seen it all. But this, you flustered over a girl? Never happened, ever. You’ve never even been smitten enough with someone to be flustered over them. Not even Hailee and that woman is a goddess.
First time for everything, Link thinks.
“Come on, change into this damn suit and make up with Jenna so she can be your woman.” He winked, still with that mischievous smirk. Keeping in theme with tonight, he holds up a Prada x Thom Browne two-piece suit made just for the after-party.
“If you want to keep your legs, I’d run in the next two seconds.” You glare, voice dropping seriously.
He hung up the suit bag on the coat hanger and swiftly walked out of the room. You ignore your team’s snickers in the back, getting up to go change in the bathroom.
Scanning yourself one last time in the full-length mirror, you look pretty hot, if you had to say so.
You blink away Link’s words and how you suddenly want to see Jenna’s reaction to your outfit. Pulling the bathroom door open, you step out and immediately take notice to the lack of bustle in the room.
Actually, the lack of people in the room.
All except one person, sitting by the couch, waiting.
“Hey… I thought we were meeting downstairs?” The creak of the door being pulled shut behind you was the only noise in the room.
Jenna blinked at the sound of your voice, turning to face you. “We were– we are.”
She shed off her blazer dress and the long train that followed, instead, she’s now wearing what was under and if you weren’t trying to be respectful, you’d be shamelessly staring at how perfectly that corset fit her like a glove.
Ignore that.
You raised a questioning brow, “What’s up then?”
But she said nothing and stood from her seat, walking in slow-clinking strides toward you. When she stops in front of you, she raises her hands to fiddle with your tie; not looking in your eyes. 
“Tie’s crooked.” She didn’t explain further, choosing to retie the tie for you.
“Thanks…” You trailed off, staring at how concentrated she looked doing such a menial task.
She must’ve heard the embarrassingly wispy tone cause when she looks up she’s giving you the softest look and you’re reminded of your first kiss at Coachella.
But clearly, this wasn’t Coachella because while lost in your daydream, unbeknownst to you, Jenna was fighting her own internal monologue; scolding herself for acting soft towards you despite her angry feelings. But when she looked up and caught you staring at her lips…
“Ow, fuck…” Your neck jerked forward, making Jenna flinch, breaking out of her own trance.
“Shit– sorry.” She unfastened the knot, swiftly. “Sorry, I didn't mean to make it that tight.”
You coughed out slightly, and for a guilty moment, Jenna didn’t know if she should feel happy or bad about being the cause.
“Sorry…” Jenna mumbled again, stepping back from you, no matter how much colder she felt. 
She was here for a reason.
“It’s okay.” You reassured, swallowing deeply. 
“Um–where’d everyone go?” You asked, remembering the once full and busy room.
“I sent them away. We need to talk.”
You raised a brow at the tone of her demand. “You want to do this… before the afterparties?”
Jenna pulled a face like she couldn't believe you were asking that. “Yes? Why, is there somewhere more important you needed to be?”
“What? No! I didn’t say that!” You defended then sighed, “But come on, Jenna, it’s the Met Gala afterparty… you waited the whole day to bring this up, why can’t we just wait until after?”
She stayed silent, crossing her arms.
You were confused until you took a second to scan her eyes, immediately reading the guilt swirling in them.
Your heart drops.
“You think I’m gonna go off the rails tonight or something?” You accused.
Jenna tiredly ran her hands on her face, “No Y/N, I’m just saying... this is the first party you’ve been to since Vegas so I’m sorry if I’m just a bit concerned.” She huffed, arms dropping limply by her side.
The laugh you let out is short and painful. “You call this concerned? ‘Cause from where I’m standing it feels more like an ambush. You don’t reply to my texts for days, you land in New York and you don’t try to see me. Then, when I bring it up you shut me down! How is that fair Jenna!”
“Don’t raise your voice at me…” She gritted, a warning glint in her eye appearing as her voice dropped.
You stared at her for a few moments before, sighing annoyedly. “Sorry…” You apologize begrudgingly.
“And you wanna talk about not replying for days? What about after SNL?” Jenna knows she’s being petty and nitpicking your words but she couldn’t stop herself even if she tried.
She feels herself losing her footing on the idea of a calm, mature conversation the longer you two argued. There was just something about being around you that made her lose all sense of rational and level-headed thinking.
“Not this again…” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation.
Jenna scoffed at your reaction. “Yes, this again.”
“I already told you that Jake needed me back for Coachella. Remember? Where I was performing?”
Jenna laughed dryly. “That is not what I’m talking about Y/N. I’m talking about the thumbs-up you left on my message after I asked if you got back to L.A. safely. You practically ghosted me."
Yeah… petty.
“Thumbs up?” You asked confused, trying to rack your brain. "Ghosted you?"
Jenna’s offended laugh was not one she could contain. “You are such an asshole.“
“Oh okay, I can’t raise my voice but you can call me names?”
Jenna's decided she's heard enough, turning swiftly on her heels to walk away.
“Uh hello—we’re not done here!” You follow after her. 
“Yes, I think we are!” Jenna declared behind her shoulder. 
“Says who?” You barked.
“Says me!”
You scoffed. “Why did you kiss me at Coachella?”
Jenna stopped in her tracks and turned around to face you upon hearing the question.
The silence is stifling. But she remained unmoving because why did she kiss you? Well, she knows the answer to that.
But she’s not ready to admit it yet — especially to you.
“For the press. There were people watching.” Eye contact unwavering as she spewed that lie.
You don’t say anything for a few moments — you don’t even call her bluff about your private moment in the tent where there was definitely no was watching.
“Maybe we should spend the night apart.” Was your answer, staring at her with the same intensity. “Go to different parties.”
You think that as actors, you’d both be able to read each other well enough. Except neither of you noticed the hurt in each other’s eyes.
“If that’s what you want.” Jenna replied, before turning on her heel and walking out the door.
-
shadowban can’t keep me away for long…
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minispidey · 6 months
Text
03: Barbie and the Giftshopist.
Steven Grant x f!bimbo!reader. previous part. series masterlist. next part.
03. Everyday she wears pink.
(A/n: your feedback on the last chapter about me writing the moon knight system is so amazing tysm! i referenced mpgis here and more legally blonde. i wanna note that reader has been a lawyer for a couple years now and amazing at it 🤸‍♀️ btw update tags are open!)
warnings: mention of cock, swearing and cursing, mention of blood.
the cock line is from my bubs @ominoose ily
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"This isn't just a date. This is a date!" You told yourself as you threw random articles of clothing behind you as you hunted for a specific dress.
You thought maybe you shouldn't wear pink. Maybe you have a pretty dress he hasn't seen you in.
You barely slept due to excitement.
The way he talked and looked at you made you swoon over him. Just thinking about makes you-
You squealed as your leg involuntarily kicked up. You blinked twice in confusion "That is so weird..."
Maybe you were horny.
"Oh gosh, not again. Bad leg!" you scolded your beautiful leg as it kicks up again "Down girl, down! No nasty thoughts about... about... about the hot neighbor across us- no!"
You almost moaned at the though of his lips against yours... You shuddered as you kept remembering the way he looked at you. You laid down in the pool of clothing as you imagined how your little lunch date will go.
As usual, you two walked out of your flat at the same time, discussing where the two of you were going for lunch.
"Wetherspoons..." you parked your pink corvette outside, looking at the flowers decorating the place. Your high heels clicked on the pavement as you walked inside, still in your pink work suit despite planning on changing.
It was a busier day than you thought, but of course lunch time is important.
Your eyes lit up as you spotted Steven, sitting up rather stiff "Stevie!" you smiled as you walked over to his table "Hi, so sorry I'm a bit late. Traffic and all."
But Steven looked back at you with such a loving look in his eyes "It's alright, love. I haven't been waiting long."
The truth is, he thought you weren't gonna show up.
"Have you ordered yet? Gosh, you must be starved." you opened the menu and browsed.
"I haven't." he shook his head, opening his menu as well.
"Cross examination was a success." you smiled "Next week's the next trial with the witness."
Steven didn't know what you were talking about, it was out of context "That's great!" he responded.
"So then he was like no and I was like, you are. Then he was like no but then I was like you are! And he was like, I kinda am. So long story short he's like, totally gay." you said as you looked at your compact mirror.
"Thank gosh I figured it out, because no way can he say my Chanel is so last season when his shirt is so last year. My client was totally bugging, but we figured it out and I, like, totally won that. How about you, Stevie? How's your day?"
Steven smiled back at you "T'was alright, love. Just the usual." he says sarcastically "Donna's been a real-"
"Excuse my language— Bitch? Cunt? Pain in the ass?"
He chuckles "Yes. A pain in the arse, love."
"She always sounds like she's giving you a hard time. You sure you don't want me to talk to her?"
"I don't think it's lawyer-worthy. It's really alright, love." Steven shakes his head "Just another typical day."
"Yeah, which can be classified as workplace abuse."
"Really. I'm fine."
You press your glossy lips into a thin line before sighing "Alright. But if you need someone to represent you in court, I'm your girl." you playfully winked at him.
Steven blushed before nodding "I'll keep you in mind then." a waiter comes up to the two of you and he began to order "-and a cocktail. Uh, how about you?"
"Um, I'll have the Soup of the Day with half a baguette, and Pasta Pomodoro with salmon. And— wait did you say a cocktail?" you blinked twice at Steven "I'll have a cocktail too, thank you."
You smiled at the waiter as he repeated the order to you two before walking away.
"Jeez, Stevie. It's only lunchtime." you giggled at him.
"I-I just wanted something strong."
"Work's really stressful, huh?"
"It really is." he sighed "Working late again tonight. But this uh lunch date is really cheering me up."
Your cheeks felt hot, making you smile "That's so sweet... tell you what, I'll pick you up from work tonight again. I'm working late too anyways."
It was Steven's turn to blush. His hand shakes with his head "You're way too nice. I don't wanna bother you. It's quite overwhelming too." even his ears turned red.
"Steven, you shouldn't turn away blessings." you winked as you giggled. Your cocktails were served just a few minutes later.
"I haven't had a cock in a while."
Steven felt his drink rush to his nose and he quickly grabbed a napkin. He coughs a few times before looking up at you.
"Oopsies, I meant a cocktail." you covered your mouth, smiling "Well, I mean... I haven't had that in a while either."
You took a sip of the drink and Steven stared at the lipstick mark left on the edge of the glass. You always wore a certain shade of lipstick, and it always drove him crazy.
There were times he'd imagine smudging your lipstick... in more ways than one.
After lunch, the two of you laughed as you drove to the museum. Steven just kept falling more and more into your wonderland of pink and diamonds. He stared at you with half-lidded eyes, listening to every word you said.
The thing about Steven is that he loves to ramble and talk a lot, and so do you. He knew you were perfect.
"-and I was like, thank gosh I talked her out of buying an orange chiffon scarf. It doesn't suit her spring tones at all! There's a fine line between terracotta and brown."
That evening, your pink corvette was parked outside of the museum, waiting patiently for Steven after a long day of reading case papers. You puckered out your lips to reapply some lipstick before popping and smiling at your reflection.
Your freshly manicured nails tapped on the steering wheel while humming a small tune.
Then suddenly someone knocks on your window.
"Steven?"
He looked like he was roughed up, red staining his clothes, but it's not his blood. It didn't even look like the same clothes he was wearing during your lunch date.
"Oh my gosh, Steven-"
...but that's actually not your main concern.
"-I told you, blue and black as a combo is a total crime against fashion. If it were me, I'd make it law." you groaned, opening the locks of your car "Get in."
His eyes widened but he doesn't respond, only taking the passenger's seat like you commanded.
"Oh, you have a little stain there." you pat the patch of blood using a pink handkerchief with lace trim and your name embroidered on the corner.
He continued to stare at you as you took his hand and placing your handkerchief on his palm "Here. You can give it back to me some other time because I seriously I need to take you shopping this weekend."
You thought maybe he's always tired after work, that's why he's so quiet, like yesterday.
"Maybe I can figure out your color palette so I know what looks best on you. Your shirts are cute, I'd have to admit, but some of them are... meh. No offense but some prints are worse than the last. OH! I know, we'll do a whole shopping day on the weekend. An hour or so won't cut it. I know it's your weekend off, but trust me when I say when your pretty neighbor's a fashionista, your life is gonna change."
Steven looks at you from the mirror's reflection before shifting his eyes towards the body— Jake. Unlike Marc's creepy silent behavior from the night before, Jake actually looks at you as you went on and on.
He even responds with small nods.
"Can we not make this a habit? First it's Marc pretending to be me in front of her, now it's you. I don't need your help with her. Can I please go in my own pace?" Steven tells Jake, but Jake shook his head in a not now kind of motion.
As Jake entered the apartment after waving goodnight to you, he's met with a poor attempt of a glare from Steven "Don't look at me like that, you wanted the girl so I gave it a push."
"I want to do this on my own. Marc doesn't want me to, I don't know about you, but I don't need help. Can I please do it my way? It's all I ask."
"Can you ask her out?"
Steven pressed his lips into a line before letting out a sigh "Give me the body. I'll... try."
"Alright, alright. You go on ahead."
Steven, now in control of the body, swung open the door and he sees you struggling to find your keys. You blinked twice before smiling at him "Hi again, Stevie. My keys are just- ugh, a lot." your keychains jingle as you tried to find the right key.
"Can we go on a date after shopping this weekend?" he blurts out quickly. Steven was red as a tomato "D-Dinner date."
Your eyes lit up and you felt the butterflies in your stomach again "I'd love that! I'll just- oh! I found my key!"
And you also found the key to your locked-up heart.
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UP NEXT: the best weekend ever! a date with steven and a little breaking and entering 💅
tags: @red-hydra @monsterroonio @pastelpinkpilatesprincess @letmehavemyfictionalmen @uncle-eggy @superduckmilkshake @3zae-zae3
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