#I just want to be engrossed in my work again
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limethefirst · 12 hours ago
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Kidnapping Buddy
pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x teen!reader (platonic)
warnings: kidnapping (it’s silly though)
summary: you find yourself kidnapped by Robotnik but Shadow finds you quite interesting
a/n: request my mutual sent me recently so I knew I had to come through 🙂‍↕️, here you go!
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You didn’t think you’d be spending your day tied to a chair in Robotniks weird Crab helicopter, but here you were. Unfortunately you were considered a useful asset as bait against your parents and Sonic to keep them from trying to stop him from ‘ruling the world’.
It was dumb and extremely boring, especially with no one to talk to. Then he showed up, Shadow was assigned with the task to make sure you didn’t escape, you were a sneaky teen after all. Robotnik himself knew that because you had foiled his plans several times before with your (technically) brother Sonic.
You guys were like two devils when combined together, it was actually quite frightening for Robotnik, which contributed to the reason why you were kidnapped. Keeping you away from Sonic was his idea of lessening the verbal abuse he got from you two.
Shadow didn’t know that though, all he knew was that you were supposed to be their leverage in case of emergency and he was to treat you as such. Too bad he was underestimating you.
As Shadow walked into the room you were held, his gaze never left yours. He fixed himself to lean against the wall, arms crossed as he studied you. You looked harmless enough, he didn’t understand why Robotnik even wanted you here, the mission would’ve gone just fine without you.
Shadow closed his eyes for a second, thinking to himself before opening them up again only to see you had untied yourself. Your arms free as you rubbed your sore wrists.
“This flight sucks, where are the snack?” You asked Shadow, a smirk placed on your features as you teased him subtly.
Shadow stood there dumbfounded as to how you were able to untie yourself in less than five seconds. Thanks to Sonic and all the mishaps he’d had with Eggman your parents thought it was good to teach you a few essentials in case something like this happened.
“How?” Shadow asked you. Somewhat blocking the only exit.
You let out a sigh and sat back down on the floor, not really seeing a reason to leave, “This isn’t the first time..” you smiled as you looked around the room.
He stood there a bit longer before walking closer, seeing you didn’t seem to have much of an urge to leave, “Explain.”
And so you did, you went on an annoyingly long rant about how Robotnik liked to try and capture you or your family members to use against Sonic but it never worked.
As you talked Shadow found himself engrossed. He sat across from you, no longer worried if you escaped, he’d probably catch you anyway. While you told your stories he noticed you were very expressive, it reminded him about his short encounter with the other hedgehog he’d briefly met.
“That sounds obnoxious.” Shadow mumbled, his brows furrowed and armed crossed.
“It really is!!” You exclaimed, your arms thrown in the air as you huffed. You didn’t really know Shadow well and you knew he was the enemy but he was honestly fun to talk to, at least more than Robotnik and Stone were.
Before you’d realized it you had already spent a lot of time talking with Shadow, he may have been a bit intimidating but he was genuinely really cool. Even he seemed to enjoy himself around you, finding amusement in your stories. He honestly hoped you’d be able to escape or your brothers come and save you.
Time continued to pass as you spent time with Shadow, talking about mindless things. His responses quick but it was more in his nature to listen anyway. You were a fun ‘prisoner’, even if you would argue you willingly let yourself be kidnapped (you did not).
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woozinhos · 18 hours ago
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Hii, could I request that the reader sucks off mingyu, hoshi, jeonghan or wonwoo while they are live. Like the reader is hiding under the table or smt. (Ofc you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to) and I love your writeing, like how do you come up with the stories?
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I decided to write for Mingyu for this I thought he would be perfect for this 🤭
Mingyu was sitting at a table, live-streaming to his fans as usual. He was chatting with them, answering questions and sharing funny stories. But beneath the table, hidden from view, you were on your knees between his legs. You smirked to yourself as you took him into your mouth, loving the thrill of being so close to him while he was live-streaming.
Mingyu shifted slightly in his seat, trying to hide the sudden intake of breath as he felt your mouth around him. He continued to talk to his fans, his voice a little strained as he tried to keep up his usual charm and charisma. But beneath the table, your mouth was working him up in ways that he never could have imagined. You were skilled and relentless, teasing him with your tongue and taking him deeper with every bob of your head.
Mingyu was struggling to keep his composure as you continued to pleasure him under the table. He stumbled over his words a few times, his mind too distracted by the sensation of your mouth on him. He tried to focus on the questions his fans were asking, but it was getting harder and harder to concentrate.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and shifted in his seat again, desperate for more. The fans start to comment asking him if he’s okay. "I'm fine, I'm fine," Mingyu said quickly, forcing a smile onto his face as he addressed his fans.
He hoped they couldn't hear the slight tremor in his voice, or see the way his fingers were digging into the edge of the table. He was fighting to keep his expression neutral, to not give away what was happening beneath the table. The fans seemed oblivious to his struggle, too engrossed in the conversation and enjoying the live-stream. Mingyu's heart was pounding in his chest as he tried to focus on answering their questions, all the while trying to keep his reactions in check.
He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his body tense with anticipation. He desperately wanted to reach down and tangle his fingers in your hair, to pull you closer and guide your movements. Mingyu tried to speak again, but his words came out in a jumbled mess as he fought to hold back a moan. He cleared his throat and tried again, this time managing to get a few words out.
"S-sorry, I'm a little distracted today," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I've got a lot on my mind."
The fans started to speculate about what could be distracting him, some joking that he was working on a new project or that he was too tired.
But the truth was much more sinful.
Mingyu could feel himself getting close to the edge, his body tensing up as he struggled to hold back. He knew he had to end the live-stream soon, but he couldn't bring himself to say goodbye just yet. The longer the live-stream went on, the harder it became for Mingyu to keep up his facade.
He was practically squirming in his seat now, his body wracked with pleasure as you continued to work him with your mouth. He could feel himself getting close, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. He glanced down at you under the table, his eyes dark with desire and desperation. You looked up at him, a wicked glint in your eye as you saw the desperate look on his face.
You could tell he was close, and you knew just how to push him over the edge. You increased your pace, taking him deeper and using your tongue to tease him mercilessly. Mingyu's breath hitched in his throat, and he bit down hard on his lip to keep from crying out.
He was trembling now, his body taut with tension as he fought to maintain his composure. His fingers dug into the edge of the table even harder, and he knew he was only moments away from losing control. Mingyu's eyes widened in shock as he felt himself reach his peak, a small squeak escaping his lips before he could stop it.
He clamped his mouth shut, his face burning with embarrassment as he realized what had just happened. He had cum right in front of his fans, without warning or preparation. The chat exploded with questions and exclamations, the fans clearly having heard the sound. Mingyu's face was bright red as he tried to come up with a believable explanation for the squeak.
"I-I, uh... I just stubbed my toe," he lied, his voice shaking slightly. "Yeah, that's all. Just a stubbed toe."
The fans didn't seem entirely convinced, but they accepted his explanation and moved on to other topics. Mingyu let out a sigh of relief, his body still trembling from the force of his orgasm. He looked down at you under the table, a mixture of shock and awe on his face. He couldn't believe that you had just done that to him, and in front of his fans no less.
Mingyu hurriedly said goodbye to his fans, apologizing for having to cut the live-stream short due to his injured toe. As soon as he ended the stream, he leaned back in his chair and let out a deep sigh of relief. He looked down at you again, a mix of frustration and admiration in his eyes.
"You're going to be the death of me," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
You smirked up at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
"Did you enjoy that, baby?" you asked, your voice low and sultry.
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nickistuffs · 2 days ago
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Chimed encounters
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Pairing: Harry x Designer Reader (curvy or plus-sized—whatever you feel they should look like. This is my preference 😌)
Summary: Meet-cutes that's all
Warnings: None, just fluff.
Word Count: 5.5k
Notes: Back at it again! I might make this into a series of blurbs because we all need sweetness in our lives.
✨masterlist✨
...
You wake up to the blaring sound of your alarm at 6 a.m., groaning as you reach over to turn it off. A sigh escapes you as you mentally prepare for the busy day ahead.
Reluctantly peeling yourself away from the warm cocoon of your blanket, you head to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face to shake off the remnants of sleep. After finishing up, you move to your closet, opting for something simple yet comfortable: a white boat-neck tee, grey jeans, and your trusty black Sambas.
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The perk of being a freelance designer is the casual dress code—no rigid rules to follow. Quickly, you apply a touch of makeup, grab the closest jacket within reach, and stuff your essentials into your bag.
Before leaving, you glance around your apartment, double-checking for anything you might have missed—keys, phone, or plugs left in sockets. Satisfied, you lock the door behind you and make your way to the lobby. Your bike, chained under the stairs, waits for you. You place your bag in the basket, plug in your earphones, and brace yourself for the chaos of city commuting. But first, breakfast and coffee. ...
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The familiar chime of the door greets you as you step into the quiet café you frequent. Felice, the owner, waves from behind the counter.
“Good morning, Y/N! The usual, or are you feeling adventurous today?” she teases with a warm smile.
“Morning, Felice. Surprise me,” you reply, smiling back at her excitement.
Felice and her husband, Jay, have been experimenting with new recipes to add to their menu, often using you as their unofficial taste-tester. Not that you mind—every dish is a delightful creation.
“It’s on the house! I don’t want your money, Y/N,” she calls out as she disappears into the kitchen.
You chuckle at her generosity and quietly slip a twenty-pound note into the tip jar, knowing she’ll try to give it back if she notices.
Finding a vacant table, you sit down and pull out your phone to review your agenda and upcoming meetings. Alongside it, your commonplace journal—a collection of ideas, sketches, and plans—makes an appearance. Pen in hand, you begin jotting down thoughts as the café’s calm atmosphere settles over you.
The door chime rings again, signalling another customer. Glancing up briefly, you spot a tall man wearing a cozy brown cardigan. You don’t think much of it until Felice’s voice cuts through the air.
“Harry! Your order’s almost ready. Jay’s just finishing it up now,” she says casually.
Your heart skips a beat. Harry Styles? You quickly lower your gaze, pretending to be engrossed in your notebook.
Felice calls your name, and you head to the counter to retrieve your breakfast.
“Thank you! Oh, this looks amazing. What’s in the sandwich?” you ask, marvelling at the colourful creation.
“Lettuce, tomatoes, two types of sauce, and pan-fried teriyaki-marinated tofu,” she explains proudly.
Before you can respond, the man beside you—Harry Styles—chimes in.
“That sounds delicious. Is it available?” he asks, his voice as smooth and familiar as you’d imagined.
You freeze momentarily, your mind scrambling to process the fact that Harry Styles is standing right next to you.
Felice, unfazed, answers, “Of course, Harry. Yours will be out in a minute.” She heads back into the kitchen, leaving you rooted in place.
Grabbing your tray, you quickly return to your table, doing your best to avoid eye contact with him. Meeting famous people always makes you nervous, and being an introverted designer who occasionally deals with high-profile clients doesn’t help. Plus, it doesn’t hurt—or maybe it does—that you’re a huge fan of his work.
You take a deep breath, push your straw into your iced coffee, and focus on your sandwich. To distract yourself, you doodle mindlessly in your journal.
From the corner of your eye, you notice Harry taking a seat at the table adjacent to yours. You keep your eyes down, bouncing between your coffee cup, your phone, and your sandwich, trying to act nonchalant.
When Felice calls his name to pick up his order, you resist the urge to look at him, knowing it would only make you more flustered.
...
Finishing your sandwich, you glance at your watch and realize it’s time to head to your first meeting. As you pack up your things, you risk a quick look in his direction. He’s taking a bite of his sandwich, seemingly enjoying it. For a brief moment, you consider asking if he likes it, but you bite your tongue and focus on leaving.
With your coffee in hand, you walk to the door, unhook your bike, and start to prepare for your ride. The door chime rings again, and you assume it’s Felice coming to say goodbye.
“Sorry, Feli, I’m in a rush—my meeting’s in 30 minutes,” you say quickly, only to stop mid-sentence when you see him.
It’s Harry Styles, holding your journal in his hand.
“Hey, you left this on the table. I didn’t want you to forget it,” he says, his voice kind and warm.
You freeze, your hand reaching out to take the journal. As your fingers brush against his, you feel a jolt of awareness that makes your cheeks flush.
“Oh, thank you. I didn’t realize I left it,” you mumble, embarrassed.
An awkward silence lingers as you both stand there. You avert your gaze, fumbling to place your bag in your bike basket.
“Thank you again, truly, but I need to go,” you say, finally hopping onto your bike.
“No worries. Have a safe ride,” he replies, smiling softly.
You meet his gaze for a fleeting moment before looking straight ahead, your heart racing as you pedal away.
As you turn the corner, you can’t help but replay the interaction in your mind, blushing harder than ever.
... I felt so giddy when I was writing this. aaaAAAHHH!
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dontopenfairies · 9 hours ago
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Standing on the porch, she jiggles her key in the lock. “Fuck, it’s not working.” Her leg is shifting on the ground, too.
“What’s taking you so long?” Why is he always so damn impatient?
“It’s not me; it’s the stupid key. And I reallyy have to pee right now, fuck.”
“You’re wearing protection, though, right?”
“Yeah but…” The key finally turns in the lock and she pushes the door open, just as… “Fuck. I just flooded.”
He follows her through the door and she kicks her shoes off, looking down to asses the damage. Her pants are totally soaked down her thighs.
“Skill issue,” he says. “I never flood.” He crosses the room and sits down on the couch, picking his switch up off the coffee table.
“Yeah, and I don’t wet the bed every night…” she says, quietly enough that he can’t hear her. She goes to the bathroom, pulling off her pants and peeling the wet pull-up away from her skin. “Are you going to help me?” she calls out to the living room.
“No,” he answers back.
She rinses off in the shower and goes to the bedroom to get her pajama pants on. When she comes back out to the living room, he’s engrossed in his video game.
She sits down next to him and switches on the TV.
“Noo,” he whines. “Too loud. You’re distracting me.”
“You know,” she says, turning up the volume, but speaking louder, too, so that he can still hear her. “I don’t really appreciate getting lip from someone who still wears diapers.”
He’s pretending to focus on his game, but she watches a pink blush crawling up his cheeks. She turns the TV off.
“That’s what you want, right? To get me to bully you.”
“Fuck,” he says, setting the switch back down on the coffee table. “I lost. You messed me up!”
“Uh-huh…I messed you up? I don’t think it’s all my fault. I was getting quite a bit of a reaction out of you.”
He folds his legs up on the couch and glances at her sidelong.
“I was saying,” she says, reaching out and grabbing his arm and pulling him towards her. “I don’t really appreciate getting lip from someone who wets the bed every night.”
“Not every night.”
“Okay, fine. Almost every night.”
“No, last week I had two—“
“Two nights in a row? That you were dry in the morning? Woww. Good for you. Congratulations.” She pulls his waistband up from under his pants, and he gasps at the sudden tension in his crotch.
“Somebody wearing big diapers like this making fun of me! ‘I don’t flood,’” she says in a mocking voice. “You wouldn’t notice if you did! This big diaper catches all of it! I bet you didn’t even notice last time you wet!” She tugs at his waistband again.
His hands go up over his face.
“Somebody who’s going to be on my lap later, pushing out a big mess into his diaper…”
He squirms away from her. “Maybe I won’t tonight! Maybe I’m going to go to the toilet and you can sit on the couch and have your stupid lap to yourself!” He sticks out his tongue at her.
“Oh, no, no, no,” she admonishes, grabbing his arm and yanking it into a half nelson.
“Owww…stop!!”
“Apologize to me.”
“I’m sorry!! I’m really sorry.” He taps his free hand on the couch. “Uncle! Uncle! I’m tapping out!” She lets him go and he massages his arm. “Owie,” he says again.
“Are you going to be good now?” she asks, pulling him onto her lap. He rests his head on her shoulder.
“Yes. I’m a good boy now.”
She rubs his back. “Let me check that diaper.”
“It’s wet,” he says quietly.
“Thought so. You always get so much more cranky when your diaper is dirty.”
He sits up on her lap and she undoes his pants.
“Not dirty like poop,” he says, watching as she squeezes the front of his diaper.
“Do you need to do that, too?”
He looks away. “Yeah…”
“Okay,” she says, pulling him close to her again. “Since you’re a good boy now, you can do it on my lap. Whenever you’re ready, honey.” She strokes down his back. “Do you need a pillow or a hand to hold?”
Without speaking, he laces his fingers with hers. Just a few seconds later he squeezes her hand, hard.
“Are you pushing? Don’t strain, baby, just relax. Ohh, there you go. Good job, honey. I won’t make fun of you anymore if you’re this good all evening.” She kisses his cheek.
“I’m good now,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry I was being so bad earlier.”
“All is forgiven.” She kisses him again.
#oc
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fairyniceyeah · 16 hours ago
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💎🍊Like the sky
Title from 24H (SEVENTEEN)
Summary: Seungkwan did not want to be always thought of as the kid that puked on the plane next to Na PD. That ship - plane? - had sailed and sunk, though, along with Seungkwan’s dignity. 
CW: emeto
Sickie: Seungkwan Caretakers: Jeonghan + DK/Seokmin + Na PD
Seungkwan was excited. How could he not be? They were flying to Italy of all places. He had never been to Europe before and neither had the members. That alone was more than enough to make him forgive Na PD that they were dragged from their hotel rooms in the middle of the night.
It was really refreshing to navigate an airport without fans swarming them, after all not even the group and most of their managers had known about the flight times being fake. Even the transfer in Incheon (except for Mingyu’s lost and found passport) had been relaxed. Seungkwan still could barely believe that they were doing “Youth over flowers” - or “Nana Tour” as they called it - even as he told his eomma about it, minutes before their flight to Incheon had taken off. 
It was starting to sink in when he sat down in his middle row seat between Vernon and Na PD in the airplane to Rome. While most of the members were exhausted after the concerts and the lack of sleep, Seungkwan couldn’t feel more awake. While Vernon fell asleep next to him, Seungkwan started chatting with Na PD.
Yet by the time lunch was handed out by the flight attendants, Seungkwan was starting to feel tired. He had been in the group celebrating after the concert after all, together with Mingyu, Joshua, Dino and Hoshi. And while most of the others had napped, Seungkwan had stayed awake during the flights. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to sleep, he was just too excited and anxious about their time in Italy.
Vernon woke up by himself from the noise of food getting handed out - or maybe it was just his intuitive sense whenever food was around - and he dug in, clearly very hungry. Seungkwan, for some reason, did not feel hungry at all. He stirred the bibimbap around half-heartedly but couldn’t find it in himself to take more than a bite. It tasted good, but he … well, he felt weird. Off. He couldn’t place it. Maybe he was just tired.
But as he leaned back, intending on rest, sleep still wouldn’t come. No matter how much he tossed and turned, he couldn’t feel comfortable. Maybe it was the motion of the plane? It wasn’t like Seungkwan to dislike planes, per se, but right now he felt the motor whirring to an extreme. 
Restlessness overcame him and he pushed the button to get his seat upright again, taking his earphones off. Maybe moving around a bit would help. They had been trapped on the plane for some hours now after all.
“Oh, Seungkwan”, Na PD said surprised, looking over. The producer had been working on his laptop doing one thing or another, but now he focused on the maknae-line member again. “I thought you wanted to sleep.”
“I did. I do”, Seungkwan admitted, running his fingers through his hair. On his other side, Vernon ignored their conversation, focused on his movie. “I guess I am still on too much adrenaline for that. Can you let me through? I want to walk around a bit, stretch my legs, you know.”
“Yeah, hold on”, Na PD agreed, letting Seungkwan slip past him into the aisle. 
Seungkwan smiled to himself a bit as he wandered down the aisle. In the row in front of his, Dino, Hoshi and Jeonghan were all knocked out asleep. He had seen Dino eat but he was pretty sure that Hoshi, after all his alcohol consumption the previous night, and Jeonghan, always so tired after concerts, had not woken up for lunch. He made a mental note to make sure they ate dinner at least.
He spotted Joshua completely engrossed by a movie on his phone, while Jun was asleep in the middle seat next to a manager. Further in the front, Seokmin took off his headphones as he saw Seungkwan walk past. Next to him, Mingyu was passed out, mouth open and slightly snoring. 
“Hey, Kwannie”, Seokmin said with a wide grin, “I still can’t believe we’re going to Italy together.”
“Me neither”, Seungkwan replied, leaning against the side of Mingyu’s seat. “Manager-nim, how could you betray us like that?”
The manager next to Seokmin laughed. “Don’t whine, Seungkwan-ah. You all wanted a surprise, after all. It worked well, didn’t it?”
“True. Anyways, I will leave you to your devices. I don’t wanna wake Mingyu-hyung and I do want to stretch my legs.”
“Ha, don’t care about Mingyu. He just woke up for lunch and fell asleep again. If he sleeps the whole flight away he won’t be able to sleep tonight when we arrive. In Rome.”
“In Rome”, Seungkwan agreed, “wow, I still can’t believe it. It’s gonna be amazing. Enjoy your movie.”
Seungkwan walked down to the front of the plane, where in the first row Woozi, Minghao and Wonwoo sat. Well, Minghao sat. Woozi and Wonwoo were asleep. Minghao looked up at Seungkwan and waved, taking off his earphone on one ear.
“Seungkwan-ah, what’s up?”
“Just stretching my legs. I feel weird, cagey. Restless. I think I’m just nervous for Italy”, Seungkwan said. “How about you?”
“Well, currently, bored out of my mind”, Minghao replied, rolling his eyes. “I feel like I watched everything already. And my seat mates are … not helpful.”
“Woozi-hyung again asleep the whole flight?”, Seungkwan asked with a laugh. It was well known that Woozi would sleep through any travels if they let him. They couldn’t blame him, he always worked so hard and rest was difficult to come by at some points in his life, especially before tours. So of course he would take any chance he could get to sleep.
“I don’t think he realized how tired he was until he basically passed out the moment he sat down. I actually had to tuck him in.” The dancer shook his head fondly. “Wonwoo-hyung betrayed me after lunch. I think the only thing that helped him stay awake before was the thought of food.”
Seungkwan laughed again. “Maybe get some rest yourself then. Italy is gonna be fun but exhausting too, I believe.”
“Yeah, I will. Try to sleep too, Kwannie. You’re looking really pale and tired.”
With a last wave, Seungkwan walked on, finding the bathroom occupied. No matter. He rounded the middle row in the front where the flight attendants were standing and preparing another drinks cart. There was where he really noticed the shaking of the plane under his feet, causing him to stumble a bit. Nevertheless, he pushed on, set on at least walking up to their row and maybe around again. 
First, however, bathroom. 
The bathroom on the other side of the aisle luckily was free, so he slipped inside, cursing as he stumbled again. What was wrong with him? The lights of the bathroom weren’t even that bright but suddenly they seemed blinding.
Maybe he would just walk back to his seat and sleep after all. Exhaustion hit him like a truck.
He exited the bathroom and walked back, down the other side of the aisle, passing a sleeping front row, Seokmin waving at him, Joshua still staring at his phone but this time with drooping eyes and another sleeping row of members. Without looking up from his phone, Vernon moved his legs to the side, letting Seungkwan crash into his middle seat. 
Seungkwan put his earphones in again and leaned back, though not yet reclining his seat. He took out his phone and put on his comfort playlist. Then, the helpless phone-addict he was, instead of putting his phone away, he opened his gallery and scrolled through his photos. He instantly missed Seungcheol when he spotted the group picture they had taken after the first concert night. It took some time until he could pull himself away from his phone and even by then he couldn’t sleep.
He felt incredibly tired and yet something kept him from entering dreamland. There was a weird feeling in his stomach, one he couldn’t place at all. Well, he didn’t want to place. Because it felt distinctly like nausea. 
Seungkwan wasn’t as prone to motion sickness as other members (cough, Jeonghan, cough, Jun, cough, Woozi, cough, Minghao, cough, Vernon) but flights somehow did it for him. Especially when he was overly tired after concerts and had not slept for quite some time. Which … which fit his situation like a lid on a pot. Surely his late night activities had not helped at all. 
But that couldn't be happening. Not when he was trapped between squeamish Vernon and friendly, but still a stranger and a respected sunbaenim, Na PD. Not when he was looking so much forward to Europe. Not when he had taken his motion sickness meds just in case.
… damn, he had not taken them. He had packed them into his bag at the hotel. The bag that had been taken from him, as bags were not allowed in the program. And in the heat of the moment he had forgotten to take them with him.
If now was not the time but think this, when was? Fuck my life. 
Seungkwan was screwed.
💎
The more he thought about it, the more nauseous and dizzy Seungkwan felt.
His stomach rolled uncomfortably and he was feeling so overheated, he had already rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt as much as possible. He kept his eyes closed, unwilling to inflict the dizziness of open eyes upon himself. 
If he was honest, he hoped that walking around would help him feel better. Sometimes it did. Sitting down made the motion of the plane even worse. 
But in a strange fit of nervousness, he didn’t feel comfortable disturbing Vernon or Na PD again with wanting to pass them. Vernon was half-asleep, as far as Seungkwan had noticed and Na PD seemed to be fighting sleep as well. Seungkwan would give so much right now for the possibility of sleep.
He placed his hand on his stomach and nervously opened his eyes. The black screen in front of him mirrored his patheticness back at him. Seungkwan had to swallow as his own reflection seemed to tilt away. Looking down at the amenity pouch in the net below the TV was an airsickness bag taunting him. Seungkwan looked up instantly, feeling like the sight of it made his nausea actually worse. 
No, it was not the bag at all. He really was not doing well. His mouth started to feel dry and it was then that Seungkwan knew he had lost the battle that had not yet even begun. 
“Hansollie”, he whispered, shaking his best friend’s knee carefully.
Vernon opened his eyes, a bit annoyed but softened when he saw Seungkwan. “You okay?”, he mouthed.
“Yeah”, Seungkwan lied, not willing to make Vernon worry over something that had not yet happened, “I just need to use the bathroom. I think I drank a bit too much water, sorry.”
In all honesty he hadn’t been able to even entertain the thought of swallowing water for some time now but Vernon didn’t need to know that either.
“It’s fine”, Vernon replied and made space for Seungkwan to pass through, “if I fall asleep before you come back, just wake me.”
This time, as he hurried down the aisle, he ignored the members trying to talk to him, if there were any. He didn’t know. The only thing he was focused on was reaching the bathroom in time. 
But as he reached the door he found the occupation symbol on “locked”. Oh no. He stumbled a step back until he hit the opposite wall, pressing a hand to his mouth. This was terrible. He wasn’t sure if he could round the aisle again in time and beside, there was another passenger - an older gentleman who had been terribly confused by the members - heading to it now. 
Seungkwan couldn’t help the slight whimper as his throat tightened and his mouth began to salivate. The nausea was ever present now, unable to be pushed aside for anything. Seungkwan was sure if the person inside didn’t open the door in the next minute he’d throw up right there in the aisle of the plane. The thought alone nearly brought tears to his eyes.
He contemplated waking one of the members in the front row, but with the side of the aisle he was on, he would only be able to reach Woozi - who would not wake easily now that he was asleep. And there was nothing they could do anyways.
Suddenly. The lock clicked and the door opened, showing Seokmin.
“Seungkwan?”, the older vocalist asked, confused, when he saw him, but the maknae was running out of time. 
“Move”, he gasped, going so far to pull Seokmin into the aisle and push past him. He didn’t even manage to make it to the toilet. Sick sprayed from between his fingers as he leaned over the sink, gagging and retching and crying. 
“Oh. Oh. Kwannie”, Seokmin whispered, stunned. Right, the door was still open.
Seungkwan couldn’t answer him, too preoccupied with turning himself inside out. He retched, actually feeling the huge wave of vomit coming up his throat before it splattered into the poor sink that was definitely not made for being puked into. Already it was clogging. Seokmin, too, realized.
One of his hands reached for Seungkwan’s back, gently turning the violently sick member towards the toilet in a moment of respite. With their changed positions Seokmin was even able to close the door behind himself for which Seungkwan was so endlessly thankful.
His knees buckled with the next strain of vomiting and carefully Seokmin guided him to the floor. If Seungkwan hadn’t felt disgusting before, he would have started then. Kneeling in a public bathroom, an airplane bathroom even worse, was without doubt the most revolting thing Seungkwan had ever done. Just the thought sent more vomit up into the metal bowl below him.
“Kwannie. Kwannie”, Seokmin whispered, rubbing his back and using his other hand to hold Seungkwan up by his shoulder, “breathe. You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”
Slowly, very slowly, Seungkwan’s stomach calmed down. He spat into the toilet below him and after a few moments he felt well enough to lean back into the comforting embrace of the older vocalist. Seokmin rubbed his shoulder and pressed a kiss to Seungkwan’s temple. 
“What’s happening?”, he asked gently, reaching up to flush the mess away, “did you feel sick earlier too? Are you hungover?”
Seungkwan shook his head, flushing in embarrassment. He wasn’t sure if being hungover would be preferable to being airsick. Maybe. At least he would only have himself to blame.
“I didn’t get to take my motion sickness meds.”
“That explains it.” Seokmin sighed. “Alright, do you feel well enough to go back to your seat? I don’t think staying here will help.”
Seungkwan could only nod in agreement and with Seokmin’s help he managed to stand up, more or less. His vision swirled and he nearly would have fallen if his hyung didn’t wrap a strong arm around his waist. “I got you, Kwannie.”
When they stepped outside after cleaning up they were greeted by a worried flight attendant who mustered Seungkwan up and down before giving him a slight smile. “Not feeling so good, huh?”
“Sorry”, Seungkwan managed, hanging his head. If he wasn’t already so hot from the nausea he was sure his face would be burning with humiliation right now.
“It happens”, she said, “sit down, I’ll get you some airsickness bags and some ginger ale. Do you want some motion sickness pills too?”
“Thank you so much”, Seokmin said, “please, that would be so helpful.”
💎
It was a bit awkward to walk down the aisle together and Seungkwan swore he could feel the eyes of all passengers on him at his walk of shame. It didn’t help that he had to hold onto Seokmin to stay upright, vision swirling and disorienting him.
Minghao was watching them with worry as they passed, as did Wonwoo. They must have woken up from the commotion after all. Seeing how pitiful Seungkwan looked, guessing what had happened wasn’t hard.
“Airsick?”, Wonwoo immediately concluded. Seungkwan didn’t have the strength to reply, more focused on staying upright. He felt Seokmin nod behind him more than he saw. 
Minghao reached over the still sleeping Woozi to gently squeeze Seungkwan’s hand. “Feel better soon. If you need anything, let us know. I will even face Woozi-hyung’s wrath if I have to wake him to help you.”
Seungkwan couldn’t help but giggle wetly. It was always a bit funny when Woozi tried yelling at one of the members (not that he would ever admit that, he liked living, thank you very much), his height just making it look cute. Especially if Mingyu was his victim, then it was just funny to see the taller member basically shrink away, despite their size difference, intimidated. 
“Thanks”, he whispered. 
Seokmin ushered him along the aisle, stopping when they arrived at the row he shared with a manager and the now awake Mingyu, who looked concerned but also a bit weary. He too wasn't a fan of vomit, like Vernon, so Seungkwan couldn't blame him.
The older vocalist quickly informed the worried manager about the situation but firmly told him they had it under control and would take care of Seungkwan themselves. Seungkwan was thankful - while the members were all tired and deserved their sleep - he couldn’t imagine getting taken care of by a manager. 
They walked past Joshua, who was now definitely asleep while holding his phone still playing his movie, and Jun, still sleeping. 
It seemed like Jeonghan and Hoshi had either been woken up by Seungkwan’s earlier hasty escape from his seat or on their own. No matter what, they looked incredibly worried when Seungkwan and Seokmin approached. Seungkwan wasn’t sure what tipped them off that something was wrong but maybe it was his … everything. Jeonghan instantly stood up as soon as they were close, opening his arms. Seungkwan took a step forward and fell into his second-oldest hyung’s arms. 
“Hannie-hyung”, he whispered, clutching the back of Jeonghan’s shirt and pressing his face into his front to hide himself from the world and the ever present dizziness. “I don’t feel good.”
“Seungkwannie”, Jeonghan mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of Seungkwan’s head. “You threw up?”
Seungkwan nodded against his chest.
“Are you hungover or airsick or sick sick?”, Hoshi asked, patting Seungkwan’s arm from where he could barely reach him.
“Airsick, I think”, Seungkwan replied.
“Aish, Kwannie”, Hoshi said, “did the meds not help this time?”
“I didn’t take them.”
“Why would you not?” Jeonghan sounded curious and confused at the same time. “You know how you get on long flights.”
“I know, I know. It's just the … the meds were in my bag.”
Instantly he felt Jeonghan stiffen in anger. It wasn’t the show’s fault, nobody’s fault, it had just been a bad row of decisions. Yet, Jeonghan looked ready to burn something or someone to the ground. Sure, Seungkwan understood where he was coming from and they all knew how overprotective he could be, but he didn’t want a fuss. And he most certainly didn’t want Jeonghan to yell at poor Na PD, who he was eyeing already. 
“Hyung”, Seungkwan said, tugging at Jeonghan’s hand, “I just want to sleep. Stay with me?”
“Of course, baby”, Jeonghan said, his anger leaving instantly. “Aish, what are we going to do with you?” His eyes narrowed on DK. “Seokminnie, have you slept during the flight?”
Seokmin’s eyes widened in return and he shook his head.
“Sit”, Jeonghan ordered, pointing at his own seat. “Sleep. I’ll go sit with Kwannie in the back and Vernon should be far away enough in your seat, I think. We don’t need him to freak out.”
Seungkwan ended up on Seokmin’s lap with Hoshi holding his hand, while Jeonghan woke a confused Vernon and sent him to Seokmin’s old seat by Mingyu. Vernon gave Seungkwan a worried glance but he also hurried away quickly, so making him leave was a good decision. 
“Come here, baby”, Jeonghan said, pulling Seungkwan up again and moving him to his middle seat in the last row. “I know this isn’t really a good space for cuddles but I’ll stay with you, okay? Do you think you could sleep?”
Seungkwan managed to get a second to think about the question when the flight attendant arrived with supplies. She looked really sympathetic to his plight and she even brought ice chips and extra pillows in case he wanted them. Jeonghan gratefully took the supplies, placing the ice chips, the motion sickness pills and the ginger ale onto the tray in front of him, then took all but one airsickness bag and tucked them next to their shared armrest, handing the leftover one to Seungkwan just in case of immediate emergency. The pillows were placed onto Jeonghan’s seat for now, so Seungkwan could get adjusted. 
“Are you comfy?”, Jeonghan asked once everything was arranged for maximum comfort and he thanked the flight attendant repeatedly. 
Seungkwan shrugged. “As comfy as I can be. I’m still so hot and nauseous.”
“Do you need to be sick again?” Jeonghan reached up and brushed Seungkwan’s hair from his face.
“Not yet.”
“So you think you’re going to at some point?”
Seungkwan nodded, feeling embarrassed again. He couldn’t help but be very aware of the fact that Na PD was sleeping beside him. 
Jeonghan sighed and adjusted himself so he sat cross legged on the seat, facing Seungkwan, his back to the aisle. “Do you want to try the pills?”
Seungkwan shook his head. There was no way he could swallow anything right now. 
“Alright. Why don’t you lean back and try to sleep through it? If that doesn’t work, we’ll see how else to help you. I promise I’m gonna stay right here with you.”
💎
Seungkwan managed to doze a bit. He never was truly asleep but he was finally sleepy. And Jeonghan’s hand in his hair was comforting. He thought he heard the older vocalist talk to somebody a few times but he was too tired to open his eyes.
But that state of peace couldn’t hold on for eternity. 
If he had to guess, it was maybe an hour after he had thrown up, when Seungkwan felt his stomach start to churn in that dangerous way again. He opened his eyes panically, pushing himself up a bit from his reclined position. Jeonghan was still sitting next to him and he smiled gently when he saw Seungkwan wake up.
“Hey, baby, how are you feeling?”
“Not good”, Seungkwan groaned, “Hannie-hyung…”
“Oh, oh. Okay.” Jeonghan instantly understood what Seungkwan was unable to say out loud. “Here you go.”
An airsickness bag was placed into his hands, already opened. Seungkwan bent over it, opening his mouth. Spit dangled down his lips but he couldn’t help it. Swallowing was out of the question.
One of Jeonghan’s hands moved to his hair, the second took hold of the bag as well. It was probably a good idea, Seungkwan’s hands felt terribly shaky and sweaty, and he didn’t know if he had the strength to hold the bag on his own. 
A sudden burp had Seungkwan whine in nervousness but then bitterness rose in his throat and filled his mouth, making him feel like he was choking. With a tiny cry, Seungkwan spat the vomit into the bag, triggering another wave to come up. He gagged harshly and loudly, feeling his cheeks heat up. He did not want people to hear or watch but what could he do?
Jeonghan kept whispering sweet reassurances, but Seungkwan was distracted by a hand on his back. Unless his hyung had suddenly grown a third hand, it wasn’t his. And from the direction it seemed to come…
Seungkwan’s musing were interrupted by another burp and more sick spilling into the already pretty full bag below him. He gagged and retched, just trying to get more sick up in hopes it would make his misery end sooner. 
“Let go, Kwan-ah”, Jeonghan mumbled, “I got another bag for you here, if you need it.”
Seungkwan let go of the full bag reluctantly, feeling somebody take it from him. As soon as the new bag was in front of his mouth, Seungkwan retched again but this time nothing came up. He dry-heaved repeatedly until his throat was raw but he couldn’t help it.
“Breathe, love”, Jeonghan encouraged, “it’s okay, you’re done for now.”
Seungkwan groaned but managed to stop the useless heaving. He fell back against his backrest in exhaustion, silent tears streaming down his face. A cold cloth started patting his mouth, cleaning rests of vomit and spit away, and Seungkwan opened his eyes.
Jeonghan was smiling at him but as Seungkwan became more aware of his surroundings he felt horror washing over him. Na PD was awake and, oh God, he was placing the clearly full puke bag into a plastic bag a flight attendant held out for him. 
The famed producer had obviously witnessed Seungkwan’s … episode and now he was even disposing of the evidence. Seungkwan couldn’t help but burst into hysterical tears. It was so humiliating and Seungkwan did not want to be always thought of as the kid that puked on the plane next to him. That ship had sailed and sunk, though, along with Seungkwan’s dignity. 
“Kwan-ah, baby, don’t cry”, Jeonghan whispered, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around the sobbing maknae. Seungkwan buried his face in Jeonghan’s neck, whole body trembling with his cries. “Don’t cry. You’ll make yourself sick again.”
A warm hand came to rest on Seungkwan’s back again, rubbing comforting circles. Seungkwan managed to stifle his cries slowly, aware that he was making a scene. Again. 
“That’s it”, Jeonghan encouraged, pressing a kiss to Seungkwan’s hair, “we know you’re tired and not feeling well, it’s okay.”
As Seungkwan removed himself from his hyung’s arms, pulling his knees to his chest, he became aware that Na PD was watching him and that it was his hand on Seungkwan’s back. 
“I’m sorry, PD-nim”, Seungkwan apologized, bowing his head. It was bad enough that nearly the whole group and the managers were involved. It wasn’t Na PD’s job to take care of Seungkwan.
“Why are you sorry, Seungkwannie?”, Na PD asked, genuine confusion in his voice, “if anybody it should be us who are sorry. Jeonghannie told me that you had meds in the bag we confiscated. I can understand that in the stress of last night you forgot to take it with you, we should have made sure to remind you to take medication with yourselves.”
“I should have remembered”, Seungkwan mumbled, “I know how flights affect me. Besides, I am pretty sure that Joshua-hyung and Woozi-hyung didn’t forget their meds.”
“Everybody makes mistakes or forgets stuff sometimes”, Na PD comforted, still rubbing Seungkwan’s back, “but, yeah, I am pretty sure Woozi at least got his meds with the way he is sleeping. I think the flight attendants were actually worried if he was still breathing.”
Seungkwan laughed at that. He knew Na PD was trying to cheer him up and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it helped. “No, that’s just Woozi-hyung’s speciality of being able to sleep until he is woken. If we hadn’t left when we did, the road manager team would have found him in the same uncomfortable sleeping position at the hotel hours later.”
Jeonghan joined into the laughter. “Kwannie is right. Jihoonie is ridiculous like that.”
Na PD was the first to sober up from the laughing fit, gently asking: “Are you feeling better now, Seungkwan? Is there anything we can do to help you?”
Seungkwan was still a bit embarrassed but he understood that Na PD didn’t care about the situation at all which helped a bit. He nodded. “I am feeling better, I think. I want to try the meds if possible.”
Jeonghan instantly had a pill on hand, pressing it into Seungkwan’s hand and handing him a cup of ginger ale. Seungkwan managed to swallow the pill easily, for the first time realizing how bad his mouth had tasted when the ginger ale took the sour taste of bile away.
“We’re not filming much for the rest of the flight”, Na PD explained, “I think we got good content already. Stay like this if you want to. We should include dinner in a few hours where you probably should get back to your assigned seats to stop confusion on the side of the viewers. If anything happens, I got you, Seungkwannie. Just a few hours left and then we’re in Rome! Fighting, huh?”
“Fighting.” Seungkwan nodded. He curled up on his seat, set on finally getting some rest.
💎
He did end up falling asleep quickly. The next time he woke up was to a female manager waking him to ask if he wanted to eat dinner, which he declined. By that time Jeonghan had returned to his own seat, but it seemed like Vernon and Seokmin had permanently swapped seats.
“Hey, you're awake”, Na PD greeted from Seungkwan’s left. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. Good”. Seungkwan smiled. “Ready for Italy.”
Na PD wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled Seungkwan to rest his head on his shoulder.
“I hope you enjoy it, kiddo. You've worked hard. You deserve it.”
Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Masterlist - SEVENTEEN
Notes (that would probably would require their own post): 
To anybody who has not watched Nana Tour, I will just explain a few things. In the beginning they are pulled from either the karaoke hotel room (Joshua, Hoshi, Mingyu, Seungkwan and Dino) where they were a bit drunk or from their hotel room beds (the rest, except for Seungcheol who knew the plan but didn't join due to his knee injury). They fly from Japan to Incheon and from Incheon to Rome. 
Since I refer to that in the story: 
Woozi was sleeping on top of the covers of his hotel bed, looking like he had just passed out on his bed the moment he entered the room. And he sleeps for the entirety of the like 11 hour flight. Dude was Tired. 
Mingyu lost his passport in Incheon (DK had it) and DK nearly lost his at the end of the flight. 
People, you won’t believe how often I watched the flight scene of Nana Tour Episode 1. At least ten times just to figure out seating arrangements. It was all in good fun though and I feel if I actually knew Korean, I could just say the lines with them now XD 
In case it wasn’t clear in my writing, as far as I have seen, the seating arrangement is as follows, all of them in the three-seat middle row: 
End of First Class
Vernon - Seungkwan - Na PD
Jeonghan - Hoshi - Dino
Joshua - Jun - ??? 
??? - DK - Mingyu
Woozi - Minghao - Wonwoo
Front of plane
What I noticed: 
Seungkwan and Vernon are definitely in the back of first class, you can see the wall directly behind them. 
Jeonghan, Hoshi and Dino are also very much in the back and from the space and angles it looks like they are directly in front of Vernon and Seungkwan. 
When they returned to the plane at the beginning of the flight, after figuring out that DK had Mingyu’s passport all along, the camera passes Wonwoo and goes a few rows before DK and Mingyu are shown, so they must be somewhere in the middle. 
So Wonwoo, Minghao and Woozi are more in the front and from the TV arrangement which differs from the rest of the group’s angles they must have differently designed seats, so they are likely in the very front, which also looks likely to be that way when they exit.
Joshua and Jun are never shown in any spatial relation to the others so I just put them somewhere in the middle, but I think they are further in the back than DK and Mingyu since when exiting the plane Jun at least seems to come from behind them.
The ??? I believe are managers but I don’t know. They weren’t filmed so I took creative liberty with it. Na PD also wasn’t filmed on the flight but when they look for DK’s passport (at the end of the flight), they go back to Na PD’s seat which seems to be in the back. So I concluded he sat next to Seungkwan (also for convenience of the story), since the second to last row is full and everybody else is sitting in the middle row, so he could technically only sit there. 
I feel like I “researched” this so much, I needed to share that with you lol
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mardmeehanabadi · 1 year ago
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I'm 167 days sober off alcohol, weed, and nicotine. some days are easier than others and this week has been especially hard. I am thinking a lot about my childhood traumas and how they followed me into adulthood and how angry I still am about it all.
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skunkes · 7 months ago
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mentioned before I havent felt any tangible significant benefit from meds yet which is fine bc it takes a while to kick in but one small good thing i have noticed so far is even when I get little sleep I feel less tired when I wake up
I don't feel completely incapacitated and in need of being in bed all day, fighting off the urge to nap, to recharge.
I also 1. actually get "Sleepy" now... instead of just feeling very hollowly "Tired" and like i Should be going to bed to try to sleep even though I don't feel like it, because it's about time to be doing that I guess, leading to tossing and turning for 3 hrs before finally succumbing to sleep.
and 2. I actually doze off. Instead of forcing self to try and initiate sleep...this has only ever happened during my rare Naps where im so tired that sleep puts me down by force. Never in actual night time sleep setting... im like dropping my phone and struggling to stay awake sometimes now. At night!!!
None of this is in any of the results I've seen for the medication so i dont even care if its some weird placebo somehow 😭 im jst glad its happening
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melzula · 10 months ago
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well since requests are open i wanted to request a zuko fic?
zuko x waterbender reader in which someone from team avatar walks in on them kissing?
i feel like it’d be funny idk lol 😂
a/n: i love this trope it’s so funny. also it’s like subtly mentioned reader is a water bender since i didn’t wanna just shove it in there awkwardly. anyway hope you enjoy!
summary: a private moment between you and your boyfriend is interrupted by your unsuspecting friends
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“Are you sure no one saw you come in here?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Zuko says with a huff after closing the flaps of your tent. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”
“You know that’s not true,” you argue with a frown. “I just enjoy having some privacy. I know those guys are going to make a big deal about us being together, and I just want to enjoy our relationship without having to deal with any prying eyes.”
“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I’m just tired of sneaking around. Do you know how difficult it is not to kiss you or check on you after a fight with my sister? It’s torture.”
“It’s just until the war is over. There’s a lot at stake right now, and it would be a weird time to come clean. It’ll be over before you know it.”
“I hope you’re right,” Zuko murmurs with a frown, one that immediately melts away at the feel of your arms wrapping around his midsection. It’s hard to be upset when you’re smiling up at him with the purest look of adoration in your eyes. Despite everything, all of his flaws and mistakes and cruelty, you love him, and it fuels the warmth inside of his heart knowing he has someone like you. Maybe he would have joined the Avatar and his friends sooner if he knew it would lead him to you.
“At least we’re finally alone,” he notes with a faint smile before leaning down to press his lips against your own in a long awaited kiss. He hasn’t been able to give or receive affection all day, and it isn’t until now with your chest pressed against his own that he’s finally able to truly feel relaxed.
Unfortunately, you’re both too engrossed in each other to notice the rustling of your tent flaps as Sokka and Toph let themselves in without a second thought.
“Hey, y/n, Toph and I are gonna head into town, do you want to- oh, gross!” He cries after catching Zuko and yourself mid lip lock.
You both jump at the intrusion, knocking your head together on accident and groaning in unison at the impact.
“Sokka!” You cry out in embarrassment. “Monkey feathers, don’t you knock?!”
“It’s a tent! There is no knocking!” He yells back defensively, equally as upset as you are. “I can’t believe you guys were kissing!”
“We weren’t kissing,” Zuko argues, his face red with embarrassment. “We were… hugging… with our… mouths?”
“Oh, spirits,” you groan, your palm hitting your forehead in embarrassment at Zuko’s horrible attempt at lying. For a Prince, he has a terrible way with words. You’d think all that time spent with his Uncle would make his vocabulary more eloquent.
“If Toph could see she’d be very upset right now!” Sokka scolds, but the girl beside him simply shrugs.
“Actually, this works out great for me. Katara owes me five gold pieces now,” she says with a grin.
“You guys knew they were dating and didn’t tell me?!” The water tribe boy says in offense.
“I had a hunch, but Katara disagreed, so we made a bet.”
“Enough already! This is mortifying enough as it is,” you groan impatiently. “Sokka, we’ll talk about this later. For now, I need both of you out!”
After getting the two to leave the tent, you shut it closed with an irritated sigh. You’re absolutely humiliated, and you don’t think you can show your face to your friends ever again.
“So much for keeping it a secret,” the fire bender mutters.
“You,” you say with an accusatory finger pointed at the Prince, “need to learn how to lie better.”
“I know,” he admits meekly, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. Sighing, you open your water pouch and tend to the growing bump on his head from your previous collision. You can’t stay mad at him when he looks so flustered and sweet, so instead you merely throw your arms around his neck and pull him back in for another kiss.
You can focus on coming clean later. For now, you just want to enjoy your moment of peace with the boy you love.
| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin @lora21
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bloodibambiidoll · 1 month ago
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I lost the ask but someone requested Rafe fucking weird!girl in the ass with a dildo while he fucks her based on this blurb.
Rafe being a possessive drama queen, weird!girl pushing his buttons, Rarry mention !!, talks of spanking/edging, degradation, double penetration(with a toy), unprotected sex, hair pulling, squirting 18+MDNI
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“What about Barry?” You and Rafe are having a lazy afternoon, he’s watching the game while you get engrossed in another dark romance novel. This one is about two drug dealers and the scenes with them fucking the female main character have you clenching your thighs. Plus, you love any chance to rile Rafe up and get him a little possessive. He always fucks you until you can hardly see.
“What about Barry?” Rafe turns toward you with a raised brow.
“Ya know, you said you’d never have a threesome with me and another guy. But, what about Barry?” You say it so casually, like you didn’t just bring up fucking Rafe’s pretty much best friend. You visibly see his face turn red and if he was a cartoon steam would probably be coming out of his ears. You have to choke back a laugh because you’re joking. Mostly.
“You’re never fuckin’ seeing him again.” Rafe eyes are practically blue flames as he flares his nostrils and points his finger at the book grasped in your hands. “What’s that book about?”
“Rafe, I’m joking! I’m just fucking with you, calm down.” You can’t help but giggle at how worked up he is. “I just thought maybe you guys could finally fuck it out, is all.”
“WHAT!? I think you’re fuckin’ projecting.” Rafe’s eyes look like they’re going to bulge out of his skull and it just sends you into another fit of laughter. “Stop laughing at me or I’ll make you.”
“Oh yeah? I think you’re just mad because you wanna boy kiss Barry and I’m saying the quiet part loud.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he lunges at you, grabbing your book from your hand and tossing it across the couch.
“I think you’re fuckin’ making excuses and you wanna fuck him.” He cages you in with his arms, his face inches from yours.
“Rafe, baby, I don’t wanna fuck Barry, calm down.” You coo at him and grab his face, squishing his cheeks together. Your condescending tone earns you a hand around your throat and it makes you smile wickedly up at your boyfriend. You love pushing his buttons. “But you do though.”
“Oh my fuckin’ god! You’re being so annoying.” Rafe grits and squeezes your throat tighter but it only widens your smile. “You’re the one that’s so obsessed with having two dicks in you at once. Was fucking you with your little dildo once not enough? You just pissin’ me off so I’ll do it again?”
“Mmm, maybe.” You lick your lips and your pussy clenches at the thought. It’s Rafe’s turn to grin down at you wickedly, you wanna play that game? Fine, he’ll bite.
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“Yeah, fuckin’ look at you, my greedy little whore.” Rafe pounds into you from behind, his thighs slapping against your own causing your ass to jiggle with each thrust. He’s holding your longest, thickest dildo in one hand, thrusting it in and out of your ass in time with the pumps of his cock. “No one’s ever touching these holes besides me. You’re fuckin’ mine.”
He lands a harsh smack on your already red, aching ass and it causes you to yelp and clench around him and the toy nestled inside you. He spanked you and edged you until you were a sobbing mess, begging him to fuck your holes.
“Say it. Tell me you’re my slut.” Rafe spanks you again and it has your toes curling while your drool drips down onto the Egyptian cotton sheets.
“I’m your slut daddy, only yours.” You whine and push your hips back against his, trying to meet his erratic thrusts. “Every inch of me is yours. Only want you.”
“Yeah, that’s fuckin’ right. You can have your little book fantasies.” Rafe pulls his cock and the dildo almost entirely out of you before slamming them back in at a brutal force. “But next time you bring another man up to me, you won’t be able to walk for a week from how bad I beat your ass. And maybe I’ll have to beat their fuckin’ ass too. Don’t make me hurt Barry, baby.”
“S-sorry daddy, won’t do it again.” You intentionally clench around him and he roughly presses your face into the mattress in response. He pumps the toy in and out of your ass as his cock bullies your g-spot and it causes your entire body to heat with pleasure.
“You gonna cum for me? Give it to me, let daddy feel your whore pussy gush all over his cock.” Rafe gathers your hair into a ponytail so he can pull your head back, using his grip on you for leverage as he fills you entirely over and over again. He flicks the button on the side of the dildo and it starts to vibrate and thrust itself faster into your ass. The added sensation has euphoria taking over your entire being. You gush around Rafe’s cock, your cum dripping from your pussy and down onto both your thighs. “Oh, that’s my good fuckin’ girl, squirt for me.”
“Fuck, daddy, m’so sensitive.” You whine as your legs shake but Rafe just chuckles before shoving your face back down into the mattress. He turns up the intensity on the toy and it makes you cry out as your body subconsciously tries to wiggle away from him.
“Oh, no baby. Where you goin’ huh?” Rafe grips onto your hip so he can roughly pull you back against him and hold you in place as he uses you like a fuck doll. “You can fuckin’ take it. Gimme another one.”
Rafe presses the dildo as deep as it can go into your ass and holds it there. It vibrates and twitches inside you, the auto thrust feature doing his job for him. He fucks into you with a brutal force that practically knocks the wind out of you. His hand snakes between your legs and he leans over you, covering his body with his own. The new angle has your vision practically going white.
“Oh fuck, m’gonna cum, gonna cum.” You babble and whine as your high washes over you, another gush of your creamy liquid dripping down onto the mattress. Rafe’s cock twitches at the sight and a few more pumps of his hips has him spilling inside you.
“Yeah, take my fuckin’ cum.” Rafe doesn’t stop fucking you until his balls are empty and his cock starts to soften inside you. He pulls the dildo from your ass and slumps over on the mattress, pulling you with him.
“God, that was so good.” You sigh as you look up at him dreamily and you aren’t surprised to see him pouting down at you. “What, you still grumpy?”
“I meant that shit, you’re never seeing Barry again.”
“Stop being so dramatic, Barry is my friend.” You roll over so you’re straddling him with a mischievous smile painted on your lips. “And you’re the one who wants to fuck him, not me.”
“Oh my fuckin’ god!” Rafe groans and throws his head back dramatically. “You’ve gotta quit that shit out. You wouldn’t have brought it up if you didn’t at least consider it a bit. What would you have done if I said yes?”
“I would’ve still told you I was joking because I was.” And you were. Mostly. You wouldn’t have turned it down if he agreed. Just as a one time thing. But that’s something for you to know and Rafe to never find out.
“Good. You’re mine and I don’t share shit.”
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Tagging mooties & weird!girl lovers: @babygorewhore @eddiesxangel @cxrrodedcoffin @starkeysprincess @cameronsprincess @nemesyaaa @that-sarcastic-writer @rafeyscurtainbangs
Divider by @anitalenia
All things Rafe & his weird!girl here
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theostrophywife · 1 year ago
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focus on me.
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pairing: mattheo riddle x reader request: I NEED MATHEO OR THEODORE X FEM READER AND SHE JUST LOVES HIS HANDS AND ARM VIENS AND SHE WALKS INTO HIS DORM AND IS GOBSMAKED TO SEE HIS ABS AND SHE WANTS TO RIDE THEM AND SHES JUST SO OBSESSED AND THINKS HES THE HOTTEST MAN IN THE PLANET- AND SHE FOLDS LIKE A PRETZEL WHEN HE GIVES HER THOSE EYES- JESUS IM A CATHOLIC BUT THEO AND MATTHEO COULD BE MY NEW RELIGION- author's note: big thanks to @writingsbychlo for listening to me rant about this man in her inbox. posting this now so she can wake up to her mans. the way that i would fold for mattheo so fast (theo look away). anyways, enjoy this purely smutty fic 😮‍💨
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You were supposed to be studying. 
When you came into his dorm, you specifically told Mattheo not to interrupt you under any circumstances. Usually, you preferred the library but some prat had accidentally set off a dung bomb, which meant closure until further notice. 
You tried studying in your dorm, but your fellow housemates decided that there was no better time to throw a back to school bash in the common room than the night before your Ancient Runes exam. Harry and Ron, who shared the same class, appeared completely unbothered as they chugged firewhisky straight from the bottle. 
Your roommate Hermione was long gone. Probably holed up somewhere in the dungeons with Draco. You followed your friend’s cue and snuck into your boyfriend’s dorm, narrowly avoiding Filch. It never seemed fair that the Slytherins got individual rooms, but tonight you had never been more thankful for it. 
Mattheo had set up a whole battle station for you on his desk. There were fresh ink pots, newly sharpened quills, and blank parchment waiting for you when you arrived. After kissing your sweet and considerate boyfriend, you went straight to work. 
By the time midnight struck, the parchment was filled with glowing runes, making your ink stained hands cramp from drawing out the symbols over and over again. To Mattheo’s credit, he kept to himself and read quietly on his bed while you studied. 
You were so engrossed in the material that you barely registered him kissing you on the cheek before leaving to take a shower. That little mistake cost you because as soon as he walked back into his dorm with nothing but a towel on, you nearly spilled fresh ink all over yourself. 
Water trickled down Mattheo’s chest, the little droplets snaking through his perfectly chiseled abs only to disappear beyond his v lines, which pointed like an arrow to what you knew was hiding underneath that towel. 
The fabric hung dangerously low on his hips as he walked over to his dresser to pick out something to wear. You watched with rapt attention as he braced himself against the wood, those delicious, juicy veins protruding from his forearms and nearly making you dizzy with desire. 
Finally, Mattheo turned. The silence had caught his attention and he smirked when he saw you ogling him. 
“See something you like, pretty girl?”
You flushed. “Just got a little distracted.”
Mattheo’s grin grew. He sauntered over to you, leaning over so that he had you caged against the desk. 
“Oh?” he asked, his voice low and husky and absolutely fucking sexy. “Maybe it’s time for a break then. You’ve been such a good girl studying so hard all night. I think you deserve a reward, my love.” 
Your breath hitched as Mattheo’s lips grazed yours. He tilted your chin up, giving you a perfect view of those brown eyes. Then he gave you the look and you knew you were done for. 
It was a look that said he wanted to devour every inch of you until you couldn’t even recall your own name. You gave in. Of course you gave in. How could you not?
“Maybe for a second…”
Mattheo took the opening. One arm snaked around your waist, bringing you up with him as he pressed you against the desk. His other arm crept up your back until he reached the nape of your neck, fisting your hair through his fingers as he kissed you roughly. 
“Do you even know how fucking sexy you are, princess? My smart schoolgirl in her tiny little skirt.” 
Mattheo carefully moved your studying materials aside before picking you up and setting you down on the table. He gripped the top of your thighs and brought you to the edge while sliding his tongue against yours. You whimpered as he grinded against you, showing you exactly how hard he was underneath the towel.
“Been thinking about bending you over this table all night,” Mattheo whispered in your ear. His hand climbed higher up your thigh and you felt your body instantly respond to his touch. “Bet you’re soaking wet for me already, aren’t you angel?”
You moaned as he toyed with the waistband of your panties. “Matty, please.” 
Your boyfriend smiled at your nickname for him, knowing that he had you right where he wanted you. “What is it that you want, darling?”
“Touch me. Please.” 
Mattheo smirked as he tugged your panties off. His lust filled gaze drank you in as he dragged two fingers through your slick folds. 
“Fuck. You’re so wet. Is this all for me, princess?”
“Mhm,” you mumbled, nipping at his neck. “It’s not fair. You play dirty, Matty. You can’t just walk in here with nothing but a towel on.” 
“Why not, angel?”
You sighed, tracing the hard planes of his chest. His muscles flexed under your fingertips as you gently raked your nails against his six pack. “Because you’re sexy and I can’t help myself.” 
Mattheo chuckled darkly, plunging two fingers in your pussy. You bucked against his hand, watching in stunned silence as he withdrew it only to stick his middle and pointer finger into his mouth. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tasted you on him. 
“This is exactly what I mean,” you whined. “For Godric’s fucking sake, how am I supposed to concentrate after that?”
“Maybe we can compromise, angel.” He shuffled through your parchments and stuck one to the wall. “I’m going to trace the runes inside of you and if you get them all right, then I’ll give you your reward.”
You swallowed thickly and nodded. Mattheo grinned before giving you a quick peck. “Pay attention, sweetheart.” 
His fingers dipped through your folds once more and you gripped his arm, fighting the moan from escaping your lips. Mattheo curled his fingers inside of you, drawing a familiar shape. 
“Urus,” you said in a breathy voice. “It means strength.”
“That’s right, angel.” He shifted as you ran your hands down his arms. You could feel his veins throbbing underneath your palm as he fingered you. “Don’t get distracted now. I know how much you love my hands. I promise they’ll be wrapped around your throat by the end of the night if you get all these right. Now focus.”
You nodded, eyes fluttering close as he traced another rune. “Algiz,” you answered. “For protection.” 
“Hot and smart,” Mattheo announced proudly. “How’d I get so lucky?”
His lips grazed yours and you willingly parted for him, fluttering around his fingers as his tongue slid into your mouth. He pumped his digits inside of you, teasing and taunting. 
“Let’s try something harder, princess.” 
Mattheo’s skillful fingers prodded against your walls, sketching a complicated shape. You closed your eyes and focused. It was a tricky one, but you remembered the cris cross pattern. 
“Inguz,” you said decidedly. “Fertility.” 
“That’s right,” Mattheo said with a smile. “You're doing so well, sweetheart. One more and you can have anything you want.” 
“Anything?” you asked with a small smile.
“Whatever that devious little mind of yours desires, my love.” 
“Okay,” you replied. “I’m ready, then.”
Your boyfriend nodded, staring right into your eyes as he marked the last and final rune. It was an effort not to get lost in those warm, brown eyes. But you steeled yourself, determined to claim your prize.
“Rerth. For luck.”
“Good girl,” Mattheo said with a smirk. “Fitting since you’re getting lucky tonight, angel. Where should we start?” 
You bit your lip, cocking your head at him. It was nearly an impossible choice. You wanted to kiss him. Bite him. Lick him. All of the above and more. 
But there was one thing that stood out from all the other deliciously sinful choices. You pressed your palm against his abs and grinned. 
“I want to ride your abs.”
Mattheo’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected it, but fuck he was so down. He would’ve given you anything with the way you were looking at him right now. 
“You never fail to surprise me,” he said fondly. “Well come on then, let’s make your filthy little fantasy a reality.” 
In one smooth move, he lifted you off the table and deposited you on top of his bed. Mattheo reclined against the headboard and watched with hungry eyes as you straddled his stomach. He smiled as you slipped the tie off your neck and looped it around him. 
It was a simple move, but so fucking sexy and possessive at the same time. You were claiming him. Mattheo was yours and you were his. You belonged to one another—mind, body, and soul. 
Mattheo trailed kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks on your skin as his deft fingers made quick work of the first few buttons on your blouse. He leaned back and admired his work, his hands gripping your hips while you grinded your soaking wet sex against his muscles. 
He didn’t think it would feel this good. There was something about you using his body to get yourself off that fucking turned him on like no other. Mattheo lifted your skirt up, fisting the fabric in his hands and watching as you coated him with your arousal. 
The little whimpers you were making sounded like music to his ears. “My good little slut,” he said, squeezing your tits as you rode him with reckless abandon. “You’re so fucking filthy, baby. Using me to get yourself off. I’m just your fuck toy aren’t I princess?”
“So good,” you murmured. “You feel so good, Matty.”
The desperation in your voice set him off. He gripped your hips hard enough to bruise and bucked forward, smirking in satisfaction when you moaned. The ridges of his abs rubbed against your clit, providing the perfect amount of pressure to the sensitive area. 
“Keep riding me,” he said in a low, rough voice. “Just like that, angel. Such a good girl for me.”
You closed your eyes, lost to the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Mattheo gripped your chin, his voice rough around the edges as he spoke. “Open your eyes, darling. I want to watch you cum.”
His rich brown eyes pinned you in place, drinking in every detail. That sexy smirk curved against his lips as he hooked his arms behind his head, admiring the view of his girl riding him. 
“Look at you, baby. You’re making such a fucking mess. Such an innocent face, but you turn into a filthy whore when you’re with me.” 
“Only for you, Mattheo.” 
“Damn fucking right,” he said, sliding his hands under your skirt to rub at your clit. 
You bucked against him, riding out the high. Heat exploded in your core and seeped into your veins. Mattheo kissed you roughly, staking his claim on you as he devoured your moans. 
“That’s it, princess. Cum for me, pretty girl.”
The orgasm felt like a lightning strike. It hit you all at once, making your walls spasm as you came all over Mattheo’s abs. He cursed when he felt you soaking him through, utterly turned on by the mess that you’ve made. Mattheo had never been harder in his life. 
Your boyfriend peppered kisses on your face, pulling you taut to him as you came down from the high. Mattheo brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, tilting your chin up so he could press his lips against yours. He groaned and held your hips down, grinding his boner against your ass. 
“I’m not done making you cum, princess. You’ve got one more in you, don’t you angel?” 
As sensitive as you were, your pussy throbbed at his words. When it came to Mattheo, you could never really get enough. 
“I thought I only got one reward. You’re spoiling me, Matty.” 
“There’s no question about it. You’re my spoiled rotten little princess. But this reward isn’t for you, it’s for me.” He smacked your ass, gesturing for you to get up. “Now come on, angel. I was serious about that desk.” 
He smirked as he walked you back to his desk, his hands disappearing underneath your skirt as he massaged your ass. Mattheo kissed you roughly before he flipped you over, bending you on the desk so you were face down and ass up. He flipped your skirt up, hissing when he found you soaking wet again.
“You just can’t help yourself can you, princess?” He pumped himself in his hand before sliding the tip of his cock along your folds. “Gods, you’re fucking wet. Are you ready, baby?” 
You whimpered, rocking your hips against him for more friction. Mattheo held you in place, fisting your hair in his hands. 
“Use your words, darling. I want to hear you beg like the good little slut that you are.” 
“Please, Matty,” you whined. “I need you so badly that it hurts.” 
He kissed the base of your spine, grinning as he eased his length inside of you. Still sensitive from your last orgasm, you gripped the edges of the table as Mattheo buried his cock within your walls. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, but he kept you upright, cursing when he felt how wet and tight you were. 
“Fuck,” he grunted as he thrust into you slowly. Mattheo gripped you from behind, picking up the pace. Your pussy clenched around him like a vice. “Gods, pussy’s so good baby. You’re doing so well. Taking all of me like my perfect little whore.” 
Mattheo fucking adored the way you blushed at his filthy words. He leaned over, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss as he fucked you into the table. He thought he was going to pass the fuck out when you grinded back into him, meeting his movements to take more and more of him. Mattheo leaned over and shielded your head from the wall, making sure you were protected as the table shook underneath you. 
The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with your breathy little moans was enough to send him over the edge, but he wanted to make good on his promise. Mattheo always put his girl first. The boys were right. He might be just a little bit pussy whipped. 
Even without the sex, you could’ve asked Mattheo to kill for you and he would’ve done so without question. 
“I fucking love you, darling. I’d kill for you. I’d die for you,” he said, every word laced with conviction. “Forever and always.” 
“I love you too, Matty. Forever and always.” 
He kissed your cheek, the action surprisingly soft compared to how rough the sex was. You felt like you could’ve melted onto the floor. 
“Cum with me, my love.”��
Mattheo wrapped his arms around you as that familiar heat spread burned in your core. He held you as the orgasm rocked through your body, sharing in the euphoric high while the two of you finished together. His grip around you only tightened, hugging you from behind while he slowly pulled out. You were barely keeping upright as it was, your legs threatening to give out under you. 
Without a word, your boyfriend scooped you into his arms and brought you back to bed. He cradled you against him, whispering praises and encouragement while stroking your hair. 
“You did so well, baby. I’m so proud of you for remembering all those runes. You’re gonna ace your exam tomorrow.” 
“You really think so, Matty?” You snuggled against him, burying your head in the crook of his neck. Mattheo stroked your back and placed a kiss on your temple. 
“I know so, darling. You have no idea how proud I am for having such a smart girlfriend. I love bragging about you to our friends.” 
You flushed. “Well, I couldn’t have done it all on my own. I had some help from my smart, sweet, and sexy study partner.
Mattheo grinned and kissed you gently. “Glad to be of service, my love.” 
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nightmare-niko · 3 months ago
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Pretty When You Cry [Father Charlie Mayhew x reader]
pt. 2
Word Count: 1916
Warnings: manhandling, kinda munch! Charlie, one slap, mean! Dom Charlie, blasphemy (they fuck in the church😬)
A/N: not my gifs! I have the originals reblogged on my page😘 this was actually already being written and then I got an anon request for basically exactly what I was already writing!! Hope ya like it hehe 🙃 i also dont really ever write like this kind of smut so i hope i did good!!
Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.
You weren't a religious person by any means. But staying the night at your parents had you up early, trying to find the most church-appropriate outfit. of course, your parents failed to tell you that they were planning on bringing you along to church. Your skirt was a bit too short. But it is not like you had room to complain with such short notice!
You remember going to high school with Father Charlie— or as you knew him Charlie. The two of you didn't run with the same crowds-- but you knew each other.
Now, here you were. Paying no attention to the words coming from his mouth and all attention to how good he looked. Damn-- maybe you should have shot your shot years ago when he was a personal trainer.
As you watched him at the head of the room, you allowed your mind to wander.
One extremely long and boring sermon later, you stand awkwardly behind your parents as they talk to what Seems like every member of the church. God how you regret agreeing to come-- It's not like you knew anyone here- none of your friends went to church. But here you were, being judged by middle-aged churchgoers. How fun.
The sound of your name being called catches your attention.
You whip your head around to the noise, "Father Charlie!" The name is unnatural as it falls from your lips. You quickly look at your parents- too engrossed in a conversation. “It's been a while!" You awkwardly step closer to the man.
He hums, "It has been, hasn't it? The first time in the church as well.”
“Well, you know...” You gesture back to your parents.
"I'm assuming this wasn't on your schedule.” He looks you up and down, “Given your attire.”
You gasp sharply, heat rising to your face as you pathetically try to pull your skirt down. "I-uh,” you try to think of an excuse, "I didn't pack any pants..." You lie-- lying in a church is one thing but to the priest?
If Charlie sensed your lie he didn't comment on it. "Well, I hope you enjoyed today's sermon.”
"I did!" You lie again, a little too enthusiastically.
Charlie narrows his eyes at you, "You weren't paying attention, were you?" His voice is playful.
"No, I was not," You quickly confess.
He laughs, you have to fight to not stare shamefully at his beautiful face for too long. "That's odd— because when I looked at you, you looked very focused," He teases.
“I wasn't paying attention to your voice. Just your fa-" you stop in your tracks. Utterly petrified at the situation you have just found yourself in. His eyebrows raise in surprise at your slip-up. “I mean I didn't even know that you could see me in that crowd-- I-I- just figured that-”
“That every time we locked eyes it wasn't on purpose?” he finishes your thought.
You nod pathetically, your shoes suddenly extremely interesting.
Charlie takes a step towards you, the proximity making you look up at the man. Has he always been that tall? "I want you to go into my office and wait for me.” His voice is a seductive tone you have never heard him use before. It sends a shiver down your spine.
“But what about my parents?” you ask, voice just above a whisper.
“Dont worry about them,” he assures before walking away. Leaving you standing alone— stunned.
To say you were terrified was an understatement. Sure, you weren't in any danger-- at least you didn't think so. What exactly had you gotten yourself into? Here you sat, in a priest's office. Surrounded by biblical Imagery. And you were 99% Sure you were soaked through your cotton panties, you didn't care. No one but you was going to know... right?
Five minutes turned to ten. You sat anxiously in the chair across from Charlie's desk. A clock on the wall ticked away obnoxiously. You had figured when you walked in it would take him a while for him to return. how long should you wait? Has he forgotten that you were sitting in his office, impatiently waiting? You didn't dare to snoop, or even scroll on your phone. Charlie said to wait for him, and that's what you would do.
For thirty minutes you're alone in that office. you straighten your posture when you hear the clicks of Charlie’s boots nearing. The sound of the door opening makes you flinch pathetically. You don't dare turn around. Eyes glued on the desk in front of you.
Charlie is silent as he moves around behind you. Your pulse pounds in your throat at the anticipation.
“You seem nervous.” You tense at his voice, still refusing to turn around and face the man.
You try to swallow the lump in your throat, “I am nervous, Father.” You press your thighs together in an atempt to find some sort of relief to your throbbing center.
He groans quietly from behind you, “look at me.”
Like a magnet your head whips around to look at the man. His sharp gaze made your breath hitch. You felt hazy as he stepped towards you. Your eyes locked on his as he comes to stand right in front of you. Your breath quickens when he captures your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger.
Charlies predatory gaze on you deepens, his lips curling into a smirk, "you--" he rubs the lipstick on your mouth, smudging it. "Are such a pretty mess for me, darling.”
You bat your eyelashes up at him, “I don't know what you mean, Father.”
He grips the sides of your face harshly, cheeks smushing together into a pout. “Showing up to my church dressed like a slut—” he spits, “shamlessly eyefucking me the whole time like you were the only one in the room.”
You whimper at his words— he was right of course. But that didn't stop your face from flushing in embarrassment.
“Now look at you. Slut. Sitting before me like a doe as if you didn’t wait in my office hoping I would come in here and fuck you like the whore that you are.”
You moan shamelessly when he lets go of your face, while your whole body was screaming at you to submit to the man before you. You could help but push his buttons just a little bit further.
“You know for a priest you sure do have a filthy mouth—” His eyes narrow on you as you speak. “im such a slut but here you are hard in your pants over a damn mini skirt.” If looks could kill, you’d surely be dead. You needed more.
You open your mouth to speak again. But before you could even get a sound out, Charlie strikes his large hand across your cheek. You moan again, “fuck!”
Wordlessly, he turns to the desk before you. You watch curiously as he haphazardly pushes the clutter on his desk onto the floor. Your hands tremble in anticipation as you watch him bound towards you. He effortlessly picks you up from the chair you sat on, as if a reflex you cross you’d ankles behind his back as his hands greedily grip your thighs and ass.
He gently places you on the recently cleared off desk. A stark contrast to the way he effortlessly hoisted you from your seat. You attempt to grind down in the wooden desk under you for some kind of stimulation, but Charlie’s grip stops you.
“So impatient,” he purrs. He captures your lips in a quick, gentle kiss. You whine at the loss of him, but you don’t have to worry for long as his hands greedily grasps at your skirt, tearing at your legs. He leaves you with one last opened mouth kiss as he begins to trail wet kisses down your neck.
He mumbles something you can’t quite hear. But you don’t really care when he sinks to his knees, his strong hands prying your legs open. He trails more kisses to your inner thigh all the way up to your core. He licks a stripe over your soaked through panties, your legs try to close but his hands are holding your thighs open. His eyes lock on yours as he pulls them down your legs, the speed agonizing as you whimper. In a second his lips are back on you, his wet kisses up your thighs driving you mad.
“Charlie,” You thread your hand through his hair as he bites and licks at your heat like a starved man.
He mumbles a quick “no,” as he pulls away from you. His chin slicked and shiny from you. The scene is pornographic, if you had a camera you’d take a picture. He fumbles with his belt buckle and throws it to the side, the metal clanking to the floor loudly. You shamelessly stare as he stands back up, towering over you again he gets close enough that you feel his breath on your face.
“Look at you,” he tuts. You lurch forward— pulling him into a greedy, filthy kiss. When he moans into your mouth it’s the most heavenly sound you’ve ever heard. Pushing you back into the desk, once again he’s muttering something, a prayer. You paw at his zipper and he lazily watches you has you pull out his angry cock.
“Please?” You beg, tears welling up in your eyes from sheer sexual frustration.
“Since you asked so nicely~” he steals a quick kiss before dragging his leaking tip through your folds.
He pushes into you fully in one smooth motion. Your back arches up off of the desk, wood painfully digging into your spine. You didn’t care— all you cared about was him.
Fast sharp deep thrusts have you screaming as the sounds of skin ring throughout the office. You curse- throwing your arms over your head. Charlie’s mouth gaping while he groans, pressing and thrusting himself into you.
"Just, like that, oh.. god." You wail as he slams himself into your g spot repeatedly.
Charlie greedily paws at your clothed breasts as his hips slap into yours. You clench around him— you can already feel your orgasm building from the rough pace set. Charlie’s hips stutter from your action and you clench again. A low groan leaves his beautifully shaped lips as he digs his fingers into your hips.
You moan— you try to form words but Charlie feels so good inside of you that your brain feels like mush. He seems to be able to tell your close however by the way his thumb reaches down to rub sloppy circles onto your clit.
Your vision turns white as you come undone. Your nails dig into the desk below you as Charlie chases his own release. He leans down, pressing kisses into your cheeks and necks, unlike the kisses before; these are gentle and caring. You hiss when he pulls out of you, missing the feeling of him inside you immediately.
“How much convincing will it take for you to come to next weeks service?” He breathily laughs against the side of your face.
“If it’s gonna end like this again— none at all.”
♡︎༻🌸༺♡︎
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Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)
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harrysfolklore · 3 months ago
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casual - ln4
summary: you’re in a situationship with lando norris, one that you know is going to break your heart, but you can’t seem to walk away. wc: 11.7k
folkie radio: i was about to scrap this entire fic bc i just didn’t like they way it was turning out but i finished it 😭 i’m still not really confident about it but i hope you enjoy it. disclaimer: this is angsty !!
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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You and Lando. Lando and You. An undefined space, more than friends, less than a relationship. You remember it like it was yesterday, though almost a year has passed.
It started innocently enough. As a data analyst and strategist for McLaren, you often found yourself working late nights, poring over race statistics and performance metrics. Lando would sometimes wander into the office, restless after a day of simulations and meetings.
At first, your interactions were purely professional - discussing tire degradation rates or fuel consumption patterns. But gradually, conversations began to drift, getting more personal and personal.
The shift happened subtly. One night, after a particularly grueling race weekend, you were both exhausted, sprawled on the office couch analyzing data. Lando's head drooped onto your shoulder, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air crackled with tension.
"We shouldn't," you murmured, even as you turned to face him.
"Probably not," Lando agreed, his blue eyes flickering to your lips.
The kiss was inevitable, months of built-up attraction finally finding release. And then came another, and another.
When Lando suggested heading back to his place, you found yourself saying yes without hesitation.
Before you knew it, you were in his apartment, you could feel the tension in the air. Lando stepped closer, his hand cupping your cheek.
"I've been wanting to do this for a while," he murmured, before leaning in to kiss you again.
Clothes were shed as you made your way to his bedroom, falling onto his bed in a tangle of limbs.
The next morning, sunlight streams through unfamiliar curtains, and you blink awake, momentarily disoriented. Lando's sleeping form beside you brings the memories of last night flooding back.
Lando stirs, his blue eyes meeting yours. "Morning," he mumbles, a shy smile playing on his lips. "So... that happened."
You nod, unsure of what to say. "It did."
An awkward silence stretches between you, the weight of the previous night settling in. You would be lying if you said that you didn't enjoy it. You did. You enjoyed it a lot. But you knew the implications of getting close with someone like Lando Norris.
"Look, Iast night was great," finally, Lando speaks. "But my life, my career... it's complicated."
"I understand," you reply, trying to hide the embarrassment on your face, "I mean, we're work colleges after all, it's complicated for me too."
"I'm not saying I regret this," he quickly adds, "I just... I can't offer you something else right now."
You take a deep breath, weighing your options. "So what are you offering?"
"Honestly? I don't know," Lando runs a hand through his tousled hair, "But I'd like to keep seeing you, if you're okay with... not defining things?"
And so begins, your undefined journey with Lando Norris. From that moment, your relationship existed in a grey area. At work, you maintained professionalism, but stolen glances, brushed hands and the way your clothes always ended up in his bedroom floor told a different story.
You know it's not ideal, to have a situationship with Lando Norris. Not when you know you could really fall for him and jeopardize your job. But at the same time, you can't walk away.
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You love you job so much, and the fact that you're willing to shut the rest of the world away in order to focus on what you needed to do proved it.
As the Japanese Grand Prix weekend unfolded, you found yourself buried in work. The Suzuka circuit always presented challenges, and you were determined to give the team every advantage possible.
You were so engrossed in your data analysis that you barely noticed Lando enter the temporary office setup. His hand on your shoulder made you jump.
"Christ, Lando! You scared me," you exclaimed, pulling off your headphones.
He grinned, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes. "Come with me," he said, taking your hand and gently pulling you up.
"Lando, I'm in the middle of-"
"It can wait," he insisted, leading you out of the office and towards his driver's room.
Once inside, he closed the door and leaned against it, watching you with an intensity that made your heart race.
"I miss you," he said simply.
You felt a pang of guilt. It had been weeks since you'd had any real time alone together. "I've been busy," you replied, trying to keep your tone light.
"Busy doing what?" Lando raised an eyebrow.
"Coming up with strategies so you can win races, actually," you retorted, a hint of challenge in your voice.
"Oh really? And how's that going?" he stepped closer, a teasing glint in his eye.
"Well, if you'd stop distracting me," you tilted your chin up defiantly, "Maybe I could finish and you'd find out."
Lando chuckled, closing the distance between you. His hands found your waist, pulling you against him. "Maybe I like distracting you," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.
You shivered involuntarily. "Lando..." you warned, but there was no real resistance in your voice.
"Tell me about these strategies," he said, his lips now trailing along your jawline. "How are you planning to make me faster?"
You struggled to maintain your train of thought as his touch sent sparks through your body. "Well," you managed, "I've been analyzing your cornering speeds and-"
Lando cut you off with a kiss, deep and passionate. When he pulled away, you were both breathless.
"Sorry," he grinned, not looking sorry at all. "You were saying?"
"You're impossible, you know that?"
Before he can even reply, you drag him for another kiss. His fingers tangled in your hair as he pulls you closer, your hands slid under his team shirt, tracing the lean muscles of his back.
When you broke apart, Lando's eyes were dark with desire.
"I thought I was the one who distracted you. Seems like you're just as needy as I am," he smirked, his voice low and teasing.
"Don't flatter yourself, Norris," you felt a blush creep up your cheeks, but matched his playful tone, "I'm just... thorough in my research."
Lando's laugh was warm against your neck as he pressed a kiss there. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
"We're not calling it a relationship, aren't we?" you blurted out before you could even think about it.
Lando's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. But quickly, his trademark grin returned.
"Well, we're not calling it a relationship," he said, his tone light and teasing, "maybe we should call it a 'performance enhancement program'. You know, for the sake of the team."
You couldn't help but laugh, even as you felt a twinge in your chest at the casual deflection of the relationship topic. "Oh, is that what this is? And here I thought I was just your favorite data analyst."
"Oh, you definitely are," Lando murmured, leaning in for another kiss. "The very best at... analyzing my data."
You rolled your eyes at the innuendo but smiled despite yourself. "As tempting as it is to continue this 'program'," you said, gently pushing him back, "I really do need to get back to work. Those race strategies won't write themselves, you know."
"Fine, fine. Go make me faster on paper. But don't forget, I might need some hands-on analysis later."
"We'll see about that, hotshot," you replied, straightening your clothes and heading for the door. "Focus on your qualifying first."
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It's late, well past midnight, when your phone buzzes with a text. You're still up, reviewing data from the day's practice sessions. The message is from Lando, of course.
"Room 507. Now. Please?"
You can't help but smile, imagining the impatience and desire behind those words. You type back:
"Demanding, aren't we? What if I'm busy?"
His reply comes quickly: "Busy with what? I know you're probably still working. Take a break. You deserve it.”
You laugh softly. "I deserve it, huh? Well, when you put it that way..."
"So you're coming?"
You pause, pretending to consider it, even though you both know you're already reaching for your room key. "I suppose I could spare a few minutes."
"There's my girl"
You slip out of your room, heart racing with anticipation. You've done this countless of times before, sneaking out of your hotel room to end up naked in Lando's, but you still felt like a teenage girl every single time.
The hotel corridor is quiet, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. You're so focused on reaching Lando's room that you almost collide with someone rounding the corner.
"Whoa, sorry!" You step back, then freeze as you realize it's Oscar, who looks equally surprised.
"Oh, hey. Bit late for a walk, isn't it?"
Your mind races, searching for a plausible excuse. "I, uh... couldn't sleep. Thought I'd grab some ice."
"Ice?" Oscar's brow furrows slightly, "At this hour?"
"Yeah, you know... for my water," you say lamely, cringing at how unconvincing you sound. "Helps me... think better. For work."
"Right," Oscar says slowly, clearly not buying it but too polite to press further. "Well, don't let me keep you from your... ice-enhanced thinking."
You force a laugh. "Thanks. Goodnight, Oscar."
As you hurry past him, you can feel his curious gaze on your back. You silently pray he doesn't mention this encounter to anyone else on the team.
One of the main reasons why you agreed to mess around with Lando without a label was exactly that, the fear of putting your job at risk. You worked hard for it, and you would never forgive yourself if you lost it due to getting in a relationship with one of the drivers.
Which lead you to getting in a goddamn situationship.
Finally reaching room 507, you knock softly. Lando opens the door almost immediately, pulling you inside with a grin.
"Took you long enough," he teases, his arms wrapping around your waist.
"Yeah, well, I just had to convince your teammate that I'm wandering the halls at 1 AM in search of ice. So thanks for that," you retort, but there's no real annoyance in your voice.
"You ran into Oscar?" Lando's eyes widen, "What did you tell him?"
"That I needed ice. For thinking."
"Ice for thinking?" he bursts out laughing. "That's the best you could come up with?"
"Hey, you try coming up with a believable excuse on the spot!" you protest, swatting his arm playfully.
"Fair enough," Lando concedes, still chuckling. "Now, where were we? I believe you were going to help me with some... performance analysis?"
As Lando leans in, your lips meet in a passionate kiss. The tension that's been building all day finally releases as you melt into his embrace. His hands roam your body, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens.
"I've been thinking about this all day," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.
"Oh really?" you tease, running your fingers through his hair. "I thought you were supposed to be focusing on your lap times."
"Who says I can't do both?"
Lando's lips find your neck, trailing kisses along your jawline. You tilt your head back, a soft sigh escaping your lips. Your hands slide under his t-shirt, tracing his sides.
He guides you towards the bed, your bodies pressed close together. As the back of your knees hit the mattress, you fall back, pulling Lando with you. He hovers over you, his weight supported on his forearms.
"You're beautiful," he whispers, his eyes roaming your face.
You reach up to cup his cheek, drawing him down for another kiss. This one is slower, deeper, filled with unspoken emotions.
As things heat up, clothes start to come off. Lando's shirt is the first to go, followed quickly by yours. Skin meets skin, and the world narrows down to just the two of you, lost in each other's touch.
The night stretches on, filled with whispered words, soft moans, and the rustle of sheets. You can't help but think that this undefined thing with Lando is getting more complicated by the day but you decide that's a problem for future you to worry about.
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After an exhausting triple header across three different countries, you finally have a well-deserved two-week break.
The past few races have been grueling, with long nights analyzing data and strategizing for each track. While you love your job, the intense schedule has left you drained. Now back home, you decide it's time to unwind and have some fun with your friends.
It's Friday evening, and you're getting ready for a girls' night out. Usually, you’d spend your Friday with Lando, but this time you were dying for a chance to let loose, dance with your friends and forget about work for a while. 
And maybe, forget about your little situationship, too.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, they say. Because as if on cue your phone starts buzzing with an incoming FaceTime call. Lando's name flashes on the screen.
You answer, propping the phone up on your dresser. "Hey, Lan," you greet him while still doing your makeup.
"Hey, you," he replies, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in your appearance. "Wow, you look hot. Are you going somewhere?"
You nod, turning back to the mirror to continue applying your eyeshadow. "Yep, heading out tonight. It's been ages since I've had a proper night out."
"Oh," Lando says, his tone curious. "Like, out out? Are you... um, going on a date or something?"
You can't help but smirk a little at his barely concealed interest. "Why, Lando Norris, are you fishing for information?" you tease. "I mean, I could be going on a date. We're not exclusive, after all."
Lando's expression falters for a moment before he catches himself, forcing a casual laugh. "No, no, of course not. I was just, you know, curious. Making conversation and all that."
You watch him in the phone screen, noticing how he's trying to play it cool but failing miserably. His jaw is tense, and he's fidgeting more than usual.
Taking pity on him, you decide to put him out of his misery. "Relax, Lando. It's just girls' night. After that triple header, I need to blow off some steam with my friends."
"Oh, right. Cool, cool," the relief on his face is palpable, "That sounds fun."
"Were you jealous, Norris?" you raise an eyebrow at him.
"Me? Jealous? Nah," he scoffs, but the slight blush creeping up his neck betrays him. "I mean, like you said, we're not... you know."
"Exclusive," you finish for him, feeling a familiar twinge in your chest at the word.
"Right," Lando nods, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Anyway, I hope you have a great time tonight. You deserve it after all the hard work these past few weeks."
"Thanks, Lan. I plan to."
"Call me if you need me to pick you up," Lando assures, making you smile softly. Maybe he actually cares about you, you think.
"Don't worry, I can handle myself."
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Just as Lando was expecting, you call him around 2 AM, asking if he could come pick you up from the club.
He doesn’t think twice before he’s getting up, putting a hoodie on and grabbing his keys to leave the house.
His car pulls up outside the club about 15 minutes later. You make your way to the vehicle, sliding into the passenger seat with a giggle.
"Thanks for coming," you say, leaning towards him with a grin.
“Of course, love,” Lando looks you over, a playful smirk on his face. "Looks like someone had fun tonight."
“I did, but I missed you,” you say as he starts driving, you’re not sure if he’ll take you to your place or his, but you don’t want to sleep without him, "Oh! I have to tell you something,"
"Well do tell," he encourages, glancing at you with interest.
"There was this guy at the club," you begin, noticing how Lando's eyebrow quirks up. "He was really handsome, and he was flirting with me."
"Was he now?" Lando asks, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something else.
"Yup," you say, popping the 'p' sound. "I pushed him away. Because even though you might not be my boyfriend, I only want you. No one else."
Lando's lips curl into a pleased smile. "Is that so?" he says, his voice low and teasing. "And here I thought I was just your favorite Uber driver."
You burst into laughter, the sound filling the car. Then, feeling bold, you place your hand on his thigh. "Will you sleep with me tonight?"
Lando doesn't even flinch. Instead, he shoots you a mischievous look. "Just like that? Usually, I at least buy you dinner first."
You groan, moving your hand from his thigh but he quickly catches it and kisses your palm before resting it there again, “Of course I’ll stay with you, baby.”
As you arrive home, Lando helps you inside, his arm steady around your waist. You stumble a bit, giggling as you lean into him.
"Careful there," he says, "Let's get you sorted, shall we?"
He guides you to the kitchen, one hand on the small of your back. You hop onto a barstool, watching as he moves around your kitchen with surprising familiarity.
"Let's get some water in you," he says, filling a large glass. "And maybe some food too. When's the last time you ate?"
You scrunch your nose, trying to remember. "Um... before we went out? I think?"
Lando shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. "No wonder you're in this state. Drink this," he hands you the water, "and I'll make you a sandwich."
You sip the water obediently, watching him as he rummages through your fridge. "You don't have to do all this, you know," you say softly.
"I want to," he looks up at you, his eyes soft. "Let me take care of you, yeah?"
As you finish your water, he slides a plate with a sandwich in front of you. "Eat up, pretty girl. It'll help sober you up."
You take a bite, suddenly realizing how hungry you are. As you eat, Lando leans against the counter, watching you with amusement and something else you can't quite name.
"So," he says casually, "tell me about this handsome guy at the club."
You swallow your bite, looking up at him. "Jealous, Norris?"
"Just curious," he shrugs, a smirk playing at his lips. "You said you pushed him away?"
You nod, setting down the sandwich. "I did. He was nice, but... he wasn't you."
The words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication. Lando's eyes sparkle, but he doesn't say anything.
You slide off the barstool and step closer to him. Your hands find his chest and you lean in, pressing your lips to his. He kisses back, his hands settling on your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss deepens, and you feel a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the alcohol.
But then Lando pulls away gently, resting his forehead against yours. "Let's go to sleep, pretty girl," he says, his voice low and a bit rough. "You need rest."
You pout, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "But I want you," you whisper, leaning in so your lips are inches from his.
"And you can have me," he says softly, cupping your face with one hand. "But right now we're going to sleep."
You start to protest, but he silences you with a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Come on, let's get you to bed."
As he leads you to the bedroom, Lando's mind is in turmoil. He's acutely aware of the growing feelings he has for you - feelings that go far beyond the casual arrangement you've had so far. The way his heart races when you're near, the constant urge to make you smile, the fierce protectiveness he feels - it all points to something deeper, that both thrills and terrifies him.
But with these feelings comes a familiar fear. Commitment has always been hard for him. The demands of his career, the pressure of the public eye, the fear of letting someone down - they all contribute to his hesitation. And yet, as he looks at you now, soft and vulnerable in his arms, he can't help but wonder if you might be worth the risk.
In the bedroom, he helps you change into comfortable sleepwear. As you both lay down, you curl into his side, your head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart is soothing, and you feel yourself starting to drift off.
"Lando?" you ask, your voice sleepy.
"Hmm?" His hand is running through your hair, the gesture comforting.
"Do you push away the beautiful girls that come up to flirt with you? Like I did tonight?"
You feel his chest rise with a deep breath. There's a pause before he answers, "I do," he says softly. "There's only one girl I'm interested in."
You lift your head slightly, trying to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Really? Who's that?"
He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I think you know, pretty girl."
You're fighting sleep now, but you're determined to get an answer. "Well, I don't believe you," you mumble, the words slurring together. "Prove it."
Lando opens his mouth to reply, but he realizes you're already asleep, your breathing evening out. He looks down at you, a fond smile on his face. Pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, he whispers, "Maybe I'll show you soon."
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The Hungarian Grand Prix has just concluded, and the atmosphere in the McLaren garage is torn between elation and tension.
Oscar has claimed his first Formula 1 victory, a monumental achievement for him and the team. However, the circumstances of his win have left a bitter taste in Lando's mouth, casting a shadow over what should have been a moment of pure celebration for everyone.
You're standing off to the side, your mind racing. The strategy call wasn't yours directly, but as part of the team, you can't help feeling partly responsible for the decision that affected both drivers.
As Lando storms into the garage, his face like thunder, you brace yourself for the fallout. His usual easy-going demeanor is nowhere to be seen, replaced by a storm of anger and disappointment. You've seen Lando upset before, but this felt different.
"Lando," you start, reaching out to him, your voice soft and tentative.
"Save it," he snaps, his blue eyes flashing with anger as he brushes past you. The coldness in his voice makes you flinch. "I don't want to hear it. Not from you, not from anyone."
For the rest of the day, Lando avoids you like the plague. You take separate flights home so you don't really see him or hear from him after you left the circuit.
Over the next few days, you try reaching out via text, each message more desperate than the last. But they go unanswered, each 'read' receipt another twist of the knife. This isn't like Lando, to shut everyone out so completely. You can't help but wonder if this is about more than just the race.
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you decide to go to his place. It's a risky move, you know, but the thought of leaving things like this is unbearable. Using the spare key he gave you months ago - a gesture that had felt so significant at the time - you let yourself in.
The apartment is quiet, but not empty. You can feel his presence, sense the tension in the air.
"Lando?" you call out, your voice echoing slightly in the silent space.
You hear movement from his bedroom, and soon enough he emerges, dressed to go out, and freezes when he sees you. His expression hardens, the warmth you're used to seeing in his eyes replaced by a cold, distant look. "What are you doing here?"
"We need to talk, Lando," you say, your voice firm despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "You can't just shut me out like this. It's not fair, and it's not right."
"I don't have time for this right now," Lando's jaw clenches, his gaze darting away from yours, "I'm heading out."
"Of course you are," you say, unable to keep the bitterness from your voice. "Because going out and partying is so much easier than facing your problems, isn't it?"
His eyes narrow, a spark of anger igniting, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're running away," you say, taking a step closer. "From the race, from the team, from me. We're all just trying to do our best, Lando. The team made a call, and it worked out for the best. Why can't you see that?"
"Because it wasn't the best for me!" Lando explodes, his composure finally cracking. "Do you have any idea what it's like? To have victory in your grasp and then have it taken away? To be told that you're not good enough, that your teammate is the better choice?"
"That's not what happened, and you know it," you argue back, your own frustration bubbling over. "It was a strategic decision, not a judgment on your abilities. You're letting your ego cloud your judgment."
"My ego?" Lando's laugh is harsh and humorless, "That's rich, coming from someone who's never had to make these kinds of sacrifices."
The words hang in the air between you, sharp and cutting. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside you. You's never had an argument like this before.
"Fine," you say finally, your voice quiet but firm. "Go out if that's what you want. But don't call me when you're feeling lonely later tonight. I'm not just some convenient comfort for when you decide you need me."
Something flashes in Lando's eyes – hurt, perhaps, or regret. But it's quickly replaced by a hardness that makes your heart ache.
"Don't worry," he retorts, his voice cold. "I can always find another girl to keep me company. I don't need you for that."
The words hit you like a physical blow, and you take an involuntary step back. The undefined nature of your relationship, once thrilling in its potential, now feels like a weapon being used against you.
"Is that what this is to you?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just a convenient arrangement? Someone to warm your bed when you can't find anyone else?"
Lando's expression softens for a moment, regret flickering across his features. But he doesn't take back his words. Instead, he turns away, his hand on the front door.
"You know your way out." And with that, he's out of the door.
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A week later, Formula 1 has moved to the iconic Spa-Francorchamps circuit in Belgium. The air is thick with anticipation - not just for the upcoming race, but for the looming summer break that follows.
You've thrown yourself into your work, burying your emotions under a mountain of data analysis and strategy planning. The tension between you and Lando hasn't gone unnoticed by the team, but thankfully, everyone's too focused on the upcoming race to pry.
You haven't spoke to Lando after your argument at his place, and you blocked his number, leaving him unable to contact you.
As you make your way through the paddock, your arms full of printouts and your mind racing with tire degradation calculations, you spot a familiar figure approaching. Lando, clad in his McLaren team shirt, is walking purposefully in your direction. Your heart rate spikes, and you quickly duck into a nearby hospitality area, pretending to be engrossed in conversation with a group of engineers.
This dance continues throughout the day. Lando tries to catch your eye during the team briefing, but you keep your gaze fixed on your tablet. He lingers near your station in the garage, but you find urgent errands that take you elsewhere. It's exhausting, this game of cat and mouse, but you're not ready to face him - not yet.
As the day winds down, you're making your final rounds, double-checking that everything is set for tomorrow's practice sessions. The paddock is quieter now, most team members having retired for the evening.
You're so focused on your checklist that you don't notice the approaching footsteps until it's too late.
"We need to talk," Lando's voice, firm and tinged with frustration, breaks the silence.
You spin around and Lando stands before you, his blue eyes intense and determined. He's changed out of his team shirt into a simple t-shirt and jeans, his hair slightly tousled as if he's been running his hands through it.
"Lando, I-" you begin, but he cuts you off.
"No, don't give me another excuse," he says, stepping closer. "We've been dancing around each other all day. Enough is enough."
Before you can protest, he gently but firmly takes your arm and starts guiding you towards the McLaren motorhome. You could resist, but something in his tone, a note of desperation perhaps, makes you comply.
The motorhome is quiet and dimly lit as Lando leads you inside and up to the second level where the drivers have their private areas. He ushers you into his room, closing the door behind you.
The space is unmistakably Lando's - a gaming setup in one corner, a few personal photos tacked to a board, his race suit hanging neatly on a hook. The familiarity of it all makes your heart ache.
Lando runs a hand through his hair, pacing for a moment before turning to face you.
"I'm sorry," he blurts out, the words tumbling from his lips as if he's afraid he'll lose his nerve if he doesn't say them immediately. "I'm so sorry for how I acted, for what I said. It was awful, and you didn't deserve any of it."
You stand there, arms crossed, trying to maintain your composure even as a lot of emotions overwhelm you. "You were an asshole, Lando," you say quietly.
"I know," he nods, "I was angry and frustrated, but that's no excuse. I took it out on you when you were just trying to help." He takes a step closer, his eyes pleading. "I've been miserable this past week. I missed you so much, and the thought that I might have ruined everything between us… it's been killing me."
Despite your best efforts to stay strong, you feel your resolve weakening. You're weak when it comes to him, and you're pretty sure he knows it.
"I missed you too," you admit softly. "But Lando, we can't keep doing this. We can't just pretend everything's fine and then lash out at each other when things get tough."
"I know, I know," Lando nods eagerly. "I want to do better. I want to be better," he pauses for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting your eyes again. "And I didn't go home with anyone that night, by the way,"
You furrow your brow, momentarily confused by the seemingly random statement. Then, like a flash, you remember his cruel words from that night in his house.
As you laid in bed the night of the argument, you couldn't help but wonder if Lando had gone home with someone else, and if that was how it worked when you were not there.
And it hurt more that you ever thought possible.
"Oh," you respond, aiming for nonchalance but not quite hitting the mark. "That's… I mean, you didn't have to tell me that. It's not like we're…"
You trail off, unsure how to finish that sentence. What are you, exactly?
Lando takes a step closer, his blue eyes intense as they lock with yours. "I know I don't have to tell you," he says, his voice low and earnest. "But I want you to know. I only want you to keep me company, not anyone else."
Your heart skips a beat at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. But almost immediately, a more cynical part of your mind chimes in. He wants you, but he doesn't want to be in a relationship with you. He wants the comfort, the intimacy, but not the commitment.
"Lando, I…" you begin, but the words catch in your throat. You want to ask for clarification, to define what this is between you, but fear holds you back.
Lando seems to sense your inner turmoil. He reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. "I know I messed up," he says softly. "And I know things between us are… complicated. But I mean what I said. You're the only one I want."
You look down at your joined hands, then back up at Lando's face. Despite despite the voice in your head warning you to be careful, you feel yourself giving in. The pull is too strong, the desire to be with him overpowering your rational mind.
"Okay," you whisper, squeezing his hand.
Lando's face breaks into a relieved smile, his eyes lighting up. He pulls you into another embrace, holding you close. You allow yourself to sink into his warmth, pushing your doubts to the back of your mind for now.
When you finally pull apart, Lando's expression is soft, almost reverent. "Are we good?" he asks, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
You take a deep breath, considering the question. Are you good? There's still so much left unsaid, so many questions unanswered. But looking at Lando, feeling the comfort of his presence, you can't bring yourself to disrupt this moment of peace between you.
"Yes," you say, managing a small smile. "We're good."
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The early morning sunlight filters through the curtains of Lando's Monaco apartment. You stir slowly, consciousness creeping in as you become aware of the warm body next to you. Opening your eyes, you're greeted by the sight of Lando's peaceful sleeping face, his features relaxed and vulnerable in a way they rarely are when he's awake.
It's been two weeks since your conversation in the motorhome at Spa, and true to form, you and Lando had fallen back into your familiar rhythm without missing a beat. The race weekend had gone well, with both McLarens finishing in the points, and you'd flown to Monaco with Lando for the first part of the summer break without a second thought.
As you watch Lando sleep, you can't help but feel that being here with him feels right in a way that's hard to describe. You know that this thing between you, whatever it is, is a ticking time bomb if you don't define it soon. But every time you think about approaching the subject, fear holds you back.
So you've chosen to ignore it, to live in this blissful bubble for as long as you can. You tell yourself that you'll deal with it later, after the summer break, after the next race, after the season ends. There's always a reason to put it off.
Lando begins to stir, his eyelids fluttering open. When his gaze focuses on you, a slow, sleepy smile spreads across his face. "Morning, beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.
"Morning," you reply softly, unable to help the smile that mirrors his.
Lando reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek as he leans in for a kiss. It starts soft and sweet, but quickly deepens as he pulls you closer. His other hand trails down your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You sigh into the kiss, your own hands exploring the familiar planes of his chest and back.
As things start to heat up, Lando rolls you onto your back, hovering over you. His lips leave yours to trail kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You arch into him, your fingers tangling in his hair.
Just as things are about to progress further, there's a sharp knock at the front door.
"Ignore it," Lando whispers, leaning in to capture your lips again.
You lose yourself in the kiss for a moment before another, more insistent knock breaks through. Lando groans in frustration, dropping his forehead to your shoulder.
"I should probably see who that is," he sighs, reluctantly pulling away.
You watch as he gets out of bed, admiring the view as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants before heading downstairs.
Curious about who could be visiting so early, you decide to follow after a few minutes. You grab Lando's discarded t-shirt from the night before, pulling it on. It falls to mid-thigh, long enough to be decent for a quick peek downstairs.
As you descend the stairs, you hear familiar voices from the entryway. Your heart drops as you recognize the second voice - it's Max Verstappen. Panic sets in as you realize the compromising position you're in, but it's too late. You've already rounded the corner, coming face to face with both drivers.
For a moment, everything freezes. You stand there, a deer caught in headlights, wearing nothing but Lando's shirt. Max's eyes widen in surprise, darting between you and Lando. Lando looks equally shocked, clearly not expecting you to come downstairs.
Mortified, you turn on your heel and bolt back upstairs, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. As you retreat, you hear Max's voice, tinged with amusement and surprise.
"Dude, isn't that one of your strategists?"
You don't hear Lando's response as you shut the bedroom door behind you. This is exactly the kind of situation you'd been afraid of, the reason why leaving things undefined was so dangerous.
Downstairs, the conversation continues.
"Yeah, she is," Lando admits, running a hand through his hair nervously.
"Wow, okay," Max lets out a low whistle, "So… how long has this been going on? Please tell me it's recent and not, like, during the season or something."
Lando hesitates for a moment before answering. "It's… been a while actually. Over a year."
"A YEAR?!" Max exclaims, his voice rising in disbelief. "Lando, mate, are you serious? You've been hooking up with a team member for over a year and nobody knew?"
"It's not just hooking up," Lando defends, though his voice lacks conviction. "It's… complicated."
"Complicated?" Max raises an eyebrow, "Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen if you ask me. Does the team know?"
"No," Lando shakes his head, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything. It's not affecting our work, so no one needs to know."
"Hey, not my circus, not my monkeys," Max holds up his hands in surrender, "But seriously, Lando, be careful. This kind of thing can blow up in your face if you're not careful."
They exchange a few more words before Max takes his leave, reminding Lando about their plans for later in the week. As soon as the door closes behind Max, Lando bounds up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
He finds you in the bedroom, already dressed in own clothes. You're pacing nervously, chewing on your bottom lip - a habit he knows you fall into when you're anxious.
"Hey," he says softly, approaching you cautiously. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect Max to show up unannounced."
You stop pacing, turning to face him. "It's fine," you say, but your voice is tight. "I should go."
"What? No, please don't go," Lando's face falls, "Max won't say anything, I promise. He may be a bit of a prat sometimes, but he can keep a secret."
"I'll just have a walk around the harbor, I'll be back," you say as you grab your phone from the nightstand.
"But why?" Lando asks, a note of panic creeping into his voice. "Is this because Max saw you? I swear, it's not a big deal."
"I'll meet you for lunch, okay? you say softly, avoiding Lando's gaze.
"Okay," he replies simply, not pushing for more.
Without further conversation, you gather your belongings and head for the door. Feeling more conflicted than ever before.
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After Max caught you together in Monaco, you stayed a few more days with Lando before reluctantly going back home, and he took on a trip with his family. You don't really see him for the rest of the summer break, until he showed up at your place two weeks before it was time to get back to work.
"So," Lando says as you laid in bed, "ready to go back to being all professional and proper soon, Ms. Strategist?"
"Oh, I'm always professional, Norris. It's you who can't keep your eyes off me during briefings."
"Me? Lando gasps in mock offense, "I'll have you know I'm the picture of focus and concentration."
"Sure," you drawl, "That's why you kept 'accidentally' brushing against me in the garage."
He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Can you blame me? You're irresistible when you're talking about tire strategies."
You laugh, pushing him away playfully, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his proximity. "Smooth talker. Is that how you charm all the girls?"
"Nah," he grins, pulling you back towards him. "Just the brilliant, beautiful ones who can calculate pit stop windows in their sleep."
Your breath catches as he nuzzles your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. For a moment, you consider bringing up the conversation you've been avoiding all summer. "Lando," you murmur, "we should probably talk about-"
He silences you with a kiss, deep and passionate. "Or," he says, his eyes dark with desire, "we could make the most of our night."
You know you should resist, that you should have that conversation you've been avoiding. But as Lando's hands start to wander, you find your resolve weakening, as always.
You don't really hear from Lando after that night. He says goodbye after breakfast the following day, and then it's radio silence.
You try not to think too much of it, the break is coming to an end and he has responsibilities and work to go, it's not personal, you try to convince yourself.
But your mind can't help but wander. Is he with someone else? Is he avoiding you? Did you make him upset and you failed to notice?
But you don't dare to bring it up to him. He's not your boyfriend, after all.
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The transition back to work after the summer break is jarring. The McLaren Technology Centre buzzes with activity as everyone prepares for the upcoming race. You're immediately swept up in meetings, data analysis, and strategy sessions. Despite working in the same building, you and Lando barely cross paths for days. The few times you do see him from afar, he's always surrounded by engineers or caught up in simulator work.
Finally, the team arrives at Zandvoort Circuit for the Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the paddock envelops you as you make your way to the McLaren garage, your arms full of strategy documents and your mind racing with last-minute considerations for the race.
As you approach, you spot Lando and Oscar chatting animatedly near the entrance. Your heart does a little flip at the sight of Lando, and you can't help but smile. You've missed him more than you care to admit.
"Morning, boys," you call out, aiming for a casual tone as you near them.
They both turn, matching grins spreading across their faces. "Hey there, stranger," Lando says, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief that never fails to make your stomach flutter.
Oscar, ever the gentleman, moves to take some of the papers from your arms. "Let me help you with those. How was your break?"
You smile gratefully, handing him a stack of documents. "Thanks, Oscar. It was lovely, very relaxing. How about yours?"
As Oscar launches into a story about his time back home in Australia and his trip with his girlfriend, you can't help but steal glances at Lando.
He looks good - tanned and relaxed, with a hint of stubble that you know from experience feels delightfully rough against your skin. You quickly push that thought aside, reminding yourself of where you are.
"Oh, that reminds me," Oscar says suddenly, turning to Lando with a sly grin. "How did that lunch go the other day? With Emma?"
You feel your body tense involuntarily. Lunch? Emma? Who's Emma?
Lando's eyes widen slightly, and he shoots a quick glance your way before looking back at Oscar. "Oh, uh, it was fine. Just a casual thing, you know."
But Oscar, oblivious to the sudden tension, presses on. "Come on, mate, don't be modest. Emma told Lily it went really well. Said you two really hit it off."
You feel as if all the air has been sucked out of your lungs. The documents in your arms suddenly feel impossibly heavy.
Lando runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you've come to recognize. "It wasn't… I mean, it was just lunch, Oscar. Don't make a big deal out of it."
"I'm just saying," Oscar continues, still grinning, "she seems really into you. Might be worth giving it a shot, yeah? It's about time you settled down with someone nice."
You can't bear to hear any more. "I should get these to the engineers," you mutter, already turning away. "See you guys later."
As you walk away, you hear Lando call out your name, but you don't stop. You can't stop. If you stop, you might fall apart right there in the middle of the paddock.
You make it to the back of the garage before you hear rapid footsteps behind you. "Hey, wait up," Lando's voice comes from behind you, slightly out of breath.
You turn slowly, trying to school your features into a neutral expression. "What is it, Lando? I'm kind of busy."
He looks at you, his eyes searching your face. "About what Oscar said… it's not what you think."
"What do I think, Lando?" you raise an eyebrow, fighting to keep your voice steady. "We never defined what this is, remember? You're free to have lunch with whoever you want."
"It was just a favor for Oscar," Lando steps closer, lowering his voice. "His girlfriend's friend is new in town, and they asked if I'd show her around. That's all it was, I swear."
You want to believe him. God, how you want to believe him. But the memory of those blissful days during the summer break, followed by days of silence and now this… it's too much.
"Look, Lando," you say, hating how your voice wavers slightly, "we both knew this couldn't last. We have jobs to do, careers to think about. Maybe… maybe this is for the best."
"What? No, that's not…" Lando starts, reaching for your arm, but you step back.
"I really need to get these to the engineers," you say, gesturing with the documents still clutched to your chest like a shield. "We should both focus on the race this weekend. That's what we're here for, right?"
Without waiting for a response, you turn and walk away, your vision blurring slightly as you blink back tears. You can feel Lando's gaze boring into your back, but you don't turn around. You can't.
As you round the corner, out of sight from the main garage, you lean against the wall for a moment, taking deep breaths to compose yourself. The rational part of your brain knows you're overreacting, that you should hear Lando out. But the emotional part, the part that's been dreading this moment since this situationship began, is in full fight or flight mode.
With one final deep breath, you push off the wall and head towards the engineering room, burying your personal turmoil beneath layers of race strategy and tire calculations. Lando Norris was consuming every part of you.
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The tension between you and Lando remains palpable throughout the race weekend. You both maintain focused on your jobs, but there's a hint that something is not right with you.
The truth is, your situation with Lando has been consuming you for weeks now. What started as a casual arrangement has grown into something much deeper, at least for you.
The more time you spend with Lando, the harder you fall for him. And it's terrifying. Being casual isn't enough anymore; it hasn't been for a while. You've reached a point where you don't think you can continue this way. The pain of loving him in secret, of always being on the edge of something more but never quite reaching it, is becoming unbearable. You need clarity, commitment - or you need to walk away before you lose yourself completely.
To make matters more complicated, Lando wins the race at Zandvoort, securing his second victory of the season—one he had been craving since Miami. Your heart breaks even more as you realize you can't even celebrate this moment with him properly. Watching him on the podium, champagne in hand and pure joy radiating from his face, you feel like crying right there.
You want to run to him, throw yourself into his arms and celebrate with him, tell him how proud you feel and how much he deserves this. But you can't, not until whatever is going on between you gets sorted out.
It's not until after the race, when the celebrations cool down and the team begins to pack up, that Lando finally corners you in a quiet moment.
"Can we talk?" he asks, his voice low and urgent. "Please?"
You hesitate, glancing around the garage. Most of the team is busy with post-race duties, paying you no attention. With a sigh, you nod and follow Lando to a more secluded area behind the motorhome.
"First of all, congratulations on the win. You really deserve it," you say as soon as you're alone, trying to keep your voice steady.
Lando gives you a bittersweet smile. "Thanks, but that's not what occupies my mind right now," he replies, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes your heart race, "I don't understand what happened back there. Why won't you believe me about Oscar's friend?"
You cross your arms, a defensive posture you're all too aware of. "It's not just about her, Lando. It's… everything."
"What do you mean, everything?" he asks, brow furrowed.
"I mean this whole situation," you take a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts, "I thought I could handle it, but…"
"But what?" Lando steps closer, his voice softening, "Talk to me, please."
"But it's getting harder," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Every time I see you with someone else, every time we have to pretend there's nothing between us, it hurts a little more."
Lando reaches for your hand, and this time you don't pull away. "You're the only one I want," he says earnestly. "You have to know that."
You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. "You always say that, Lando. But you still won't fully commit to me. It's hard to believe it when you won't put a label on us, when you go out with other women-"
"That wasn't a date," Lando interrupts, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "I told you, it was just a favor for Oscar."
"I know, I know," you say, pulling your hand away and running it through your hair. "But that's not the point. The point is, I don't know where I stand with you. We've been doing this dance for over a year now, and I still don't know what we are to each other."
"I thought you were okay with this. With us staying without a label. You agreed to keep things casual."
"I was okay with it," you turn away, blinking back tears. "But it's not enough anymore. At least, not for me."
There's a long moment of silence. When you turn back, Lando is staring at the ground, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
"What are you saying?" he asks finally, his voice small.
"I'm saying that I can't do this anymore, Lando," you say firmly, "I want more. I need more."
"We agreed it was too complicted," Lando looks up at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable, "That we couldn't be in a relationship."
"I know what we agreed," you say, your voice cracking slightly. "But feelings change. People change. I've changed, Lando. And I can't keep putting my heart on hold for a someday that might never come."
Lando steps forward, reaching for you again. "Please, don't do this. We can figure it out. I'll try to be more open about us. We can tell our friends."
You shake your head, cutting him off. "It's not just about telling people, Lando. It's about commitment. It's about knowing that when I go home at night, I'm not just someone in your bed. It's about building a future together, not just living for the moment."
"I don't know if I can give you that. Not right now," Lando's face falls. "My career is at a great point, and-"
"And mine isn't?" you interrupt, a flash of anger cutting through your sadness. "Do you think I'm not risking just as much as you are? If not more? But I'm willing to take that risk because what we have… what we could have… it's worth it to me."
You watch as emotions play across Lando's face - confusion, fear, longing. Finally, he speaks, his voice barely audible. "I don't want to lose you."
Your heart aches, but you stand your ground. "Then give me a reason to stay, Lando. Show me that I'm more than just a convenient distraction between races."
Lando opens his mouth to respond, but you hold up a hand to stop him. "Don't answer now. Think about it. Really think about what you want. Because I can't keep going on like this. It's not fair to either of us."
With that, you turn and walk away, leaving Lando standing alone behind the motorhome. As you make your way back to the garage, you can feel the weight of unshed tears burning behind your eyes. But you don't let them fall. Not here, not now.
You've laid your cards on the table. Now it's up to Lando to decide what he's willing to do with them.
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The Monza race weekend flies by in a whirlwind of noise and action. You keep yourself busy, diving deep into numbers and race plans to avoid thinking about your feelings. It's easier to focus on tire strategies and pit stop timings than to deal with the ache in your chest every time you see Lando.
When you do have to talk to Lando, you both act normal and professional. But there's a tension in the air between you, like a tight rubber band ready to snap. You catch others giving you worried looks sometimes, and it makes you feel even more on edge.
Lando has not given you any kind of response to your talk in Zandvoort, and it's been just a week, but you feel like you know his answer. He's not willing to give you what you ask for. And it hurts, more than you can say.
As Sunday night gets closer, whispers of Carlos Sainz's birthday celebration begin to circulate through the paddock. You know Lando will definitely go - he and Carlos are really close friends. A small part of you wishes you could go too. You imagine laughing with your coworkers, having a drink, and forgetting about all the drama for a while.
But then you think about seeing Lando there. You picture having to smile and act like everything's fine when it's not. The thought of making awkward small talk with him, or worse, seeing him chatting happily with someone else, makes your stomach churn. It feels like too much to handle right now.
In the end, the thought of facing Lando and all those people is just too much. You decide to skip the party, even though a part of you feels guilty and a bit left out. But the relief you feel at making this decision tells you it's the right choice for now.
As the sun begins to set after the race and everyone gets ready for the party, you retreat to your hotel room. You order room service – a plate of pasta that you barely touch – and settle in for a quiet evening alone. You try to lose yourself in a book, but the words blur on the page, your mind constantly wandering to thoughts of Lando. Is he at the party now? Is he having fun? Is he thinking of you at all?
Meanwhile, at Carlos' birthday celebration, Lando finds himself struggling to enjoy the party. He mingles half-heartedly, his laugh a beat too late, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He can't help but scan the room periodically, hoping against hope that you might have changed your mind and decided to come.
Max, observant as ever and knowing his friend too well, notices Lando's distraction and pulls him aside.
"You alright, mate?" Max asks, "You look like you'd rather be anywhere but here."
Lando sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Is it that obvious?"
Max nods, taking a sip of his drink. "Want to talk about it?"
For a moment, Lando considers brushing it off, but the weight of the past week suddenly feels too heavy to bear alone. "It's about her," he admits quietly.
Max doesn't need to ask who 'her' is. By now he knows the situation his friend is caught up in, "Trouble in paradise?" he asks.
"More like paradise lost," Lando lets out a humorless laugh, "I think I really messed up, Max. I was so worried about keeping things casual, about not complicating our working relationship, that I didn't realize how fucked up the whole thing was."
"So what are you going to do about it?" Max asks.
Lando looks around the room, at the laughing faces and clinking glasses, and suddenly feels very out of place. "I don't know. I just know I can't be here right now. Not when things are like this between us."
"Then go," he says simply. "Go find her. Talk to her. Life's too short for regrets, especially in our line of work."
Lando looks at Max, a hint of his usual playful smile returning despite the situation. "When did you become so wise, Verstappen? Did all those championship trophies finally knock some sense into you?"
"Someone has to be the voice of reason around here," Max rolls his eyes, but there's a fond smile on his face, "Now go on, get out of here before Carlos finds you and makes you stay, I'll distract him."
"Thanks, Max. I owe you one," Lando chuckles, patting his back.
"You owe me several, but who's counting?" Max grins, clapping Lando on the shoulder. "Now go get your girl."
With a newfound sense of purpose, Lando slips out of the party. His heart pounds as he makes his way to your hotel, not even sure if you would want to talk to him.
When he's finally standing in front of you door, he knocks softly, hope and fear warring in his chest as he waits for you to answer.
You're curled up on the bed, still trying and failing to focus on your book, when you hear the knock. Confused, you glance at the clock - it's barely past 10 PM. The party should still be in full swing. Who could be at your door?
As you pad over to the door and peer through the peephole, your breath catches in your throat. It's Lando, looking slightly disheveled, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
You hesitate, your hand on the doorknob. Part of you wants to fling the door open and throw yourself into his arms. But another part, the part that's been hurt and confused for the past week, holds you back.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you slowly open the door, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the emotions inside you.
"Lando?" you say, trying to sound calm even though your heart is racing. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at Carlos' party."
Lando looks a bit messy, like he rushed over. He shifts from foot to foot, looking nervous. "I was," he says. "But I couldn't stay. Not when you weren't there."
You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. You're trying to protect yourself, even though you want to believe him. "You left your best friend's birthday party early because of me?"
Lando nods, looking right at you. His eyes are so intense it makes your heart beat even faster. "Can I come in? I think we need to talk."
You hesitate for a moment. You're scared of getting hurt again, but you also really want to hear what he has to say, even if it breaks your heart. Finally, you step back and let him in.
As he passes by, you catch a whiff of his cologne mixed with the faint scent of the paddock - a combination that's uniquely Lando and achingly familiar.
Lando walks into the room, running a hand through his hair. "I've been doing a lot of thinking this past week," he begins, turning to face you. "About us."
Your heart starts to race, but you force yourself to remain calm. "And?" you prompt, when he doesn't continue.
"And you were right. About everything," Lando takes a deep breath, "I've been so focused on not complicating things, that I didn't realize how much I was hurting you.”
"Lando, I-"
"Please, let me finish," Lando interrupts you softly, "The truth is, I've been scared. Terrified, actually. Of commitment, of letting someone in completely, of potentially damaging our careers if things went wrong. But this past week without you… it's been hell", he takes a step closer to you, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I've dated before, had relationships, but nothing has ever felt like this. What we have… it's different. Special. And I've been an idiot for not seeing it sooner."
Your breath catches in your throat as Lando continues, his words coming faster now, as if he's afraid he'll lose his nerve if he doesn't get them all out. "I kept telling myself that keeping things casual was the smart thing to do. That it was protecting both of us. But all I've done is push you away and make you doubt how much you mean to me."
He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you've seen him do countless times when he's nervous or frustrated. "The truth is, I'm crazy about you. I think about you all the time. When something good happens, you're the first person I want to tell. When something goes wrong, you're the one I want to turn to. And it scares the hell out of me because I've never felt this way about anyone before."
Your heart is pounding so hard you're sure Lando must be able to hear it. You want to speak, to tell him how much his words mean to you, but you can see he's not finished yet.
"I know I've messed up. I know I've hurt you by not being clear about my feelings, by not giving you the commitment you deserve. And I'm so, so sorry for that," Lando's voice cracks slightly, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes. "But if you're willing to give me another chance, I want to do this right. No more hiding, no more pretending we're just casual. I want to be with you, properly. I want to tell our friends, take you on proper dates. I want everything."
He takes another step closer, close enough now that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. "I can't promise it'll be easy. Our careers, the media attention, the travel - it's all going to be complicated. But I'm willing to fight for this, for us, if you are."
You stand there, momentarily stunned by Lando's words. Your mind is racing, trying to process everything he's just said. You've dreamed of hearing something like this from him for so long, but now that it's happening, you find yourself almost paralyzed.
Taking a shaky breath, you finally find your voice. "Lando, I… I don't know what to say. This is everything I've wanted to hear from you, but I'm scared too. What if we try this and it doesn't work out? What if we end up ruining our friendship, our work relationship?"
Lando's hand finally makes contact with your cheek, his touch impossibly gentle. "Those are all valid fears," he says softly. "And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about the same things. But I think what we have is worth the risk. Don't you?"
You lean into his touch, your eyes closing for a moment as you savor the feeling. When you open them again, you see Lando looking at you with such tenderness it makes your heart ache.
"I do," you whisper. "I really do. But Lando, I need you to be sure, if we do this, I need all of you. No more half measures, no more hiding."
Lando nods, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "I'm sure. I want all of you, and I want to give you all of me in return."
The sincerity in his voice, the look in his eyes - it's everything you've been longing for. Unable to resist any longer, you close the distance between you and press your lips to Lando's. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if you're both afraid this moment might shatter. But then Lando's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepens.
It's not your first kiss, not by a long shot, but it feels different this time. There's a promise in this kiss, a commitment that wasn't there before.
You pour all your pent-up emotions - the longing, the frustration, the love you've been holding back. Lando responds with equal passion, one hand tangling in your hair while the other presses against the small of your back.
When you finally break apart, Lando rests his forehead against yours, a smile playing on his lips.
"I've missed you so much," he murmurs. The relief and happiness that flood Lando's face are beautiful to see.
"I've missed you too," you admit. "More than I wanted to admit, even to myself."
Lando's hands start to wander, tracing patterns on your back that make you shiver, you melt at his touch, but then your mind starts racing again.
"Where do we go from here, Lan?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Lando takes a moment to consider your question, his hands still gently caressing your back. He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, his expression a mix of tenderness and determination.
"Well," he starts, a small smile playing on his lips, "I think we take it one step at a time. We don't need to rush anything, but we also don't need to hide anymore."
You nod, encouraging him to continue.
"First things first," Lando says, his voice growing more confident, "I want to take you on a proper date. No sneaking around, no pretending we're just colleagues grabbing a quick bite. I want to take you somewhere nice, hold your hand in public, and not care who sees us."
The thought makes your heart flutter. "I'd like that," you reply softly.
You wrap your arms around him, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. For the first time in a long while, you feel truly happy and hopeful about the future.
"So," Lando says after a moment, a hint of mischief in his voice, "since I left Carlos' party early to come here... does that mean I get to stay the night?"
You laugh, playfully swatting his arm. "Cheeky," you tease, but there's no real accusation in your voice. Instead, you lean in and kiss him.
As the kiss intensifies, you both start moving towards the bed, hands roaming and clothes starting to come off. This time, there's no holding back, no pretending this is just a casual thing. Every touch, every kiss is infused with the promise of something lasting.
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Two weeks later, you're in Baku for the Azerbaijan Grand Prix.
You're in the McLaren garage, eyes fixed on your tablet as you analyze the latest telemetry data. The familiar sounds of mechanics working and engineers discussing strategy fill the air, but you're completely focused on your task.
Suddenly, you sense a pair of eyes on you. Without turning, a smile tugs at your lips. You know exactly who it is.
"See something you like?" you ask playfully, still not looking up from your work.
You hear a low chuckle, then feel a warm presence behind you. "Just admiring my girlfriend," Lando's voice is soft, meant only for your ears.
He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you gently against him. His lips brush your shoulder in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine.
The past fortnight has been a whirlwind of emotions and adjustments. True to his word, Lando has taken you on proper dates and you've made your relationship official. You still feel giddy every time Lando calls you his girlfriend, a fact that hasn't escaped his notice. He seems to take particular joy in introducing you as such, his eyes always seeking out your reaction.
"How's the data looking?" he says, giving you a quick squeeze.
"Pretty good, actually," you turn back to your tablet, but remain in his loose embrace. "Your last practice session showed some promising improvements in sector two."
"That's my girl," Lando murmurs, pride evident in his voice. "Always making me look good."
You chuckle, elbowing him gently. "You do that all on your own, superstar. I just provide the numbers."
You turn in Lando's arms, facing him with a soft smile. The garage bustles around you, but in this moment, it feels like you're in your own little bubble.
"You know," you say, your voice low, "I never thought I'd be standing here like this with you. In the middle of the garage, no less."
Lando's eyes crinkle as he grins, his hands resting comfortably on your waist. "Having second thoughts?" he teases.
"Not at all," you shake your head, your smile widening. "It's just different. Good different."
"The best kind of different," Lando agrees, echoing his words from that night in your hotel room.
"I should probably get back to work," you say reluctantly, not making any move to step away.
Lando nods, but doesn't loosen his hold on you. "Probably," he agrees, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But first…"
He leans in, pressing a quick but tender kiss to your lips. It's brief, mindful of your surroundings, but filled with promise.
As he pulls back, you can't help but laugh softly. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"
"You love it," Lando grins, finally releasing you from his embrace.
"I do," you admit, your heart full. "Now go on, superstar. You've got a car to drive soon."
As you watch him blow you a kiss which made you throw your head back in laughter as he left, your heart feels full.
You and Lando. Lando and You. Finally, together.
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mononijikayu · 4 months ago
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a day in a life — ryomen sukuna.
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You set Yuji down, and he immediately takes your hand in his tiny one, his other hand reaching out to grab Sukuna's sleeve, tugging at him. "Uncle Sukuna, come on!" Sukuna grunts, letting Yuji pull him along, his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and reluctant affection. “Alright, alright, brat….I’m coming.” he says, trying to sound grumpy but failing spectacularly. You smile at the sight of them together and take Sukuna's other hand. "Looks like we're both in for an adventure, aren’t you?" you whisper.
GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;
WARNING/S: safe for work (sfw), fluff, family, slice of life, family dynamic, light hearted, domestic, romance, protectiveness, crying, hugging, banter, humour, physical touch, happy ending, hurt/comfort, depictions of family dynamic, depiction of getting lost, depiction of anxiety, depiction of slice of life, menction of amnesia, boyfriend! sukuna, amnesiac! girlfriend! reader, domestic uncle sukuna!, nephew!yuji, i love you nephew!yuji;
WORD COUNT: 6.4k words
NOTE: the people have spoken and ryomen sukuna won my poll (again) so this is a special treat for yall!!! this is the aftermath of amnesia and reader and sukuna got back together. this is maybe a year or so to them getting back together. yuji loves his auntie!!! anyway, i hope you enjoy it. i had a lovely time writing it because this is what we deserved from gege!!! i love you all!!! thank you for your continued love <3
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── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──
IT WAS YOUR DAY OFF. And that was something you and Sukuna had agreed about in the early dawn of your relationship together. You wanted to get to know this man you fell in love with, and many years had passed since you both even got together after your amnesia. One of those days was today. With no work obligations today and Sukuna taking a break from managing his gym, the two of you had indulged in a much-needed cozy day. 
A lot of things would change. So, Ryomen Sukuna stepped up to the plate and took some time off to just have days to cherish your time together. 
Everything had been blissfully quiet, a rarity for both you and Sukuna. Like always on these days, you’d spent the morning wrapped in a warm blanket together, watching a movie you both had half-paid attention to, more engrossed in each other’s company than the plot unfolding on screen.
Ryomen Sukuna had his arm draped around your shoulders, his fingers lazily drawing patterns against your skin. Your boyfriend doesn’t sleep that much, but when he’s in his lazy days with you — he makes an effort to rest. You worry a lot for him, after all. And he doesn’t want to add more to those worries. Begrudgingly he does it, but it makes you happy. 
He expected to spend the day with you like this all day. And Sukuna was happy with that. He likes having time with you like this, just embracing each other’s warmth and talking over the bad television shows and ordering in if you don’t feel like getting up and making a meal together.
Life was great. This was his day in a life. Sukuna had dreamed of it for years since you parted. And now that you’re together again, it just all fell into place. Nothing could be better than this. And he adores it. 
But then Sukuna's phone rang, and you watched as his expression shifted from contentment to annoyance. He sighed, glancing at the caller ID — his twin brother, Itadori Jin. You looked at him curiously as he sighed.
Reluctantly, Sukuna answered, his voice gruff. "What’s up?"
You could only hear Jin’s voice faintly on the other end, speaking quickly. Sukuna’s face darkened as Jin explained the situation — some emergency at work that demanded his immediate attention.
Because of this, Kaori, Jin's wife, would have to go and pick up their eldest son Choso alone for vacation. They didn’t wanna agitate with a long drive, since Yuji is still a little boy. And with no one else to watch over their young son, Itadori Jin was left with only one option.
Ryomen Sukuna pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated. You could almost hear his internal mantra: ‘Don’t say it, don’t say it…’
But Jin, with his usual charm and desperation, finally got to the point. “Look, can you just babysit Yuji for a couple of days until we’re back? We don’t have anyone else.”
Sukuna opened his mouth, ready to protest, but before he could even get a word out, you grinned and cut in. "Oh, we'd love to! Right, Sukuna?"
Sukuna shot you a glare that was more pout than anything else. He looked betrayed, as if you had just handed him the world’s most inconvenient challenge. You couldn't help but bit your lip, trying to stop your laughter. He's always like this when it comes to his nephew. He likes to pretend that he doesn't like him and yet, he does. A lot.
For a moment, you think he was almost like a kitten who found his owner’s antics unpleasant. You felt the tension in his arm, the muscles flexing in silent rebellion. He’d been so ready to complain, to give a flat ‘no’ but your enthusiasm left him no room to argue.
Jin laughed on the other end. “Great! Thank you, sister in law! We’ll drop him off in an hour.”
As the call ended, Sukuna tossed his phone onto the couch with a dramatic sigh, leaning his head back and closing his eyes as if he’d just endured a great ordeal. “Really?” he muttered, a sulky undertone in his voice. "You had to say yes?"
You laughed softly and nudged him with your elbow. "Oh, come on, baby. It'll be fun! Besides, Yuji is adorable. Don't you think so?"
Sukuna opened one eye, giving you a side-eyed glance. "He’s a menace, that brat." he grumbled, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "A little gremlin in disguise."
You leaned closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. "And I think you secretly like him." you teased.
He snorted, though his arm tightened around you instinctively. "Yeah, well, I like my peace and quiet more. ‘specially since I get my fill of you."
You blushed at his words. For a moment, you could feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek, steady and strong, and you knew he would complain, sulk, and groan about this for the next hour.
But you also knew, without a doubt, that he’d be the one sneaking Yuji cookies before dinner, making silly faces just to hear him giggle, and pretending to be indifferent even as he kept a protective eye on the kid. After all, he loved his little nephew. Even if he doesn’t say it out loud.
“Fine." Sukuna grumbled finally, his voice resigned but affectionate. "But don’t blame me if he decides to climb the walls or something.”
You smiled, planting a soft kiss on his jaw. "Deal." 
Sukuna’s sigh was heavy, dramatic, but there was no mistaking the way he leaned into your touch, accepting his fate with a grumpy fondness that only made you love him more.
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──
day one
IN NO TIME, YOU WERE ALREADY PARKING. You watched as your boyfriend carefully looked at the space as he parks with precision. You liked being in the Itadori household. Somehow, you just felt the warmth of bing alive here. They treated you like family even when you and Sukuna haven't even married. And today was no different.
When you and Sukuna arrive at Jin and Kaori’s house, you could just feel how the sun shines brightly as you pull up to the driveway. Itadori Yuji is already waiting outside, a tiny bundle of energy with his little red backpack on, his face lighting up the moment he sees you. You barely have time to get out of the car before Yuji bolts over, throwing himself at you with an enthusiastic hug that nearly knocks you back.
“Auntie!” he squeals, wrapping his small arms around your legs.
Your heart melts instantly. "Hey, Yuji!" you greet him, scooping him up effortlessly and spinning him around in a playful circle. "I’ve missed you, little guy!"
Yuji giggles, clutching onto you tighter, his face buried in your shoulder. Over your shoulder, you see Sukuna standing by the car, arms crossed, his mouth set in a grumpy line. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel the simmering annoyance rolling off him in waves.
You shoot him a playful smile. "Look, baby!" you tease. "He's already so attached!"
Sukuna rolls his eyes, but there’s no real malice in his expression. “Yeah, yeah.” he grumbles, though his lips twitch like he’s trying to hold back a smile. “Don't spoil him too much.”
You grin and bounce Yuji in your arms, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "How could I not? He's too cute. So precious too!”
Yuji beams up at you, clearly enjoying the attention. "Auntie, can we go to the playground?" he asks excitedly, his eyes wide and hopeful.
You look at him, amused. "Of course, we can, buddy! What do you want to do at the playground?"
Yuji's face lights up even more, if that was possible. "I wanna see my best friends! Nobara and Megumi! They’ll be there like usual!" he declares with all the seriousness a toddler can muster.
Sukuna lets out a low groan from behind you. “Great.” he mutters sarcastically. “Not only do we have to babysit the brat, but now we’re running a daycare service.”
You glance over at him with a laugh. "Come on, it'll be fun! Besides, it'll be nice to meet his little friends."
Sukuna sighs dramatically, but you catch the way his gaze softens just a fraction when he looks at Yuji. You know he would never admit it, but he has a soft spot for his nephew, even if he won’t say it out loud.
You set Yuji down, and he immediately takes your hand in his tiny one, his other hand reaching out to grab Sukuna's sleeve, tugging at him. "Uncle Sukuna, come on!"
Sukuna grunts, letting Yuji pull him along, his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and reluctant affection. “Alright, alright, brat….I’m coming.” he says, trying to sound grumpy but failing spectacularly.
You smile at the sight of them together and take Sukuna's other hand. "Looks like we're both in for an adventure, aren’t you?" you whisper.
Sukuna shoots you a look, but the corner of his mouth quirks up just slightly. "Yeah, sure. An adventure." he mutters, but you see the way his grip tightens around your hand.
Yuji swings between you two, his laughter bright and infectious as you make your way to the playground, where a day full of play, giggles, and unexpected joy awaits. You can’t help but think that he’s the purest thing in life.
The neighborhood playground is a colorful blur of swings, slides, and a few scattered benches where parents and caregivers chat while keeping an eye on their kids. You could pick up the sound of laughter filling the air from afar, and Yuji’s excitement is palpable as he practically vibrates with energy between you and Sukuna. He seems to love this place.
“Where are they?” Yuji asks, his head swiveling in every direction with tenderness, searching for his friends. “Where’s Nobara? Where’s Megumi?”
You crouch down to his level, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon, Yuji. Do you want to try the swings while we wait?”
Yuji nods eagerly. “Yes! Push me, Auntie!” He drags you over to the swings, his little legs moving as fast as they can. Sukuna trails behind, hands shoved into his pockets, doing his best to appear indifferent. But you catch him watching Yuji with a faint smile on his face when he thinks you aren’t looking.
You carefully lift Yuji into the swing, securing him before giving him a gentle push. Soon enough, his little fits of laughter fills the air, bright and pure, as he kicks his legs back and forth, asking for “Higher, higher!”
Sukuna leans against the swing set's metal frame, observing the scene with a mix of amusement and begrudging fondness. "Careful, babe." he warns, though his tone lacks any real bite. "Don't launch him into orbit."
You laugh softly. "Come on, he's having fun!" You give Yuji another push, his giggles ringing out as he soars through the air. "See, Sukuna? This is what a good day looks like."
Sukuna grunts, but there’s no hiding the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Sure, sure. I’ll take your word for it.”
Just then, a small voice calls out from behind you, full of excitement. “Yuji!”
You turn to see a little girl with a red bow in her hair running over, a boy with dark, serious eyes following at a more measured pace. Yuji’s face lights up even brighter. “Nobara! Megumi!” he shouts, waving his arms enthusiastically.
Nobara reaches you first, hands on her hips and a bright grin on her face. “Hey, Yuji! Hi!” She waves up at you, her bright grin was confident and charming. "Are you Yuji's auntie?"
You nod, charmed by her boldness. "I am! It's nice to meet you, Nobara. And you must be Megumi?" you say, looking over at the quiet boy who stands just a bit behind Nobara.
Megumi nods, his expression serious. “Hi.” he says quietly, his gaze shifting between you and Sukuna, assessing. He seemed like a weary kid, but you don’t blame him. 
Sukuna raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You two Yuji’s bodyguards or something?” he teases.
Nobara puffs out her chest, clearly taking it as an offense. “Huh?!  No we’re not! We’re his best friends!” she declares proudly. Megumi gives a small nod as he hides that almost imperceptible smile at her confidence. 
“Tch, brat—”
“That’s great!” You grinned at her. “Thank you for taking care of Yuji!”
Yuji hops off the swing, rushing over to grab his friends’ hands. “Let’s play!” he shouts, already pulling them toward the jungle gym.
You stand beside Sukuna, watching them run off with a fond smile. “See? Isn’t this nice?”
Sukuna grunts, though there’s no mistaking the soft expression on his face as he watches Yuji. “Yeah, yeah… maybe.” he mutters. “As long as nobody starts crying. Or falling and then crying.”
You laugh and nudge him playfully with your elbow. “Just admit it, you’re having a good time.”
He finally relents, sighing dramatically. “Fine, maybe it’s not that bad.” He turns his head slightly to look at you, a glint of affection in his eyes. “But only because you’re here.”
You feel a warm flutter in your chest at his words and lean closer, brushing a kiss against his cheek. “That’s the spirit, baby.” you tease softly.
As you both stand there, watching Yuji play with his friends, you feel a sense of contentment settle over you. It’s simple, this moment, but somehow perfect in its simplicity — surrounded by laughter, sun, and Sukuna’s reluctant but undeniable fondness for his nephew. And you were enjoying it all. Taking it all as it is. It was the perfect day.
Suddenly, Yuji runs back over, out of breath but beaming. “Auntie, Uncle! Can you come play too?” he asks, tugging at both of your hands with his small ones.
You glance at Sukuna, who looks momentarily caught off guard. But then, with a sigh and a half-smile, he bends down, ruffling Yuji's hair. “Alright, brat.” he says, his voice mock-gruff. “What do you want us to do?”
Yuji's eyes shine with excitement. "You can be the monsters, and we'll be the heroes!"
Sukuna raises an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm a monster now?" he grumbles, but you can tell he's already warming up to the idea.
You laugh, taking Yuji’s hand. “Okay, monsters it is. But you better run fast, heroes!”
With that, Yuji squeals in delight, dragging his friends back to the jungle gym as you and Sukuna pretend to chase after them. Sukuna might act like he’s reluctant, but you catch the way he’s smiling, truly smiling, and your heart feels impossibly full.
For now, there’s no place else you’d rather be. And you meant it.
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──
day two
THE EXHAUSTION FROM YESTERDAY DIDN’T PREVENT YUJI FROM WANTING TO ENJOY TODAY. When the next day dawns with bright and clear skies, you could only think that it was the perfect weather for a trip to the zoo. Itadori Yuji was up early, bouncing with excitement, and his enthusiasm quickly became infectious. 
Even your boyfriend, who had initially grumbled about being dragged to a “smelly zoo” eventually caved in to his nephew Yuji’s pleas — especially after you flashed him a knowing smile and those eyes, reminding him how much this meant to his nephew. He couldn't deny you, no matter how much he tried. He grumbled loudly about it before finally saying yes. But you knew just as much that he was enjoying himself. 
You haven’t been in a zoo in a very long time, that much you could be honest about. Sukuna doesn’t seem to care for it either growing up. But you think that this was going to be great for Yuji. He adored animals. Even just seeing them on the television makes him happy and curious. It was his first time going and seeing animals like this, up close. And you just know that it would be such a great time for him.
As soon as you arrive, Yuji is practically vibrating with energy. He tugs at your hand and points at the map, his little face glowing with excitement. “Auntie, Uncle, can we see the lions first? And then the penguins! Oh, and the monkeys too!” he babbles, his words tumbling over each other in his eagerness.
You nod with a smile. “Of course, Yuji. We have all day to see everything!”
Sukuna shakes his head, hiding a grin. “Just try not to run off, brat.” he warns, ruffling Yuji’s hair. “We don’t want to be chasing after you like yesterday at the playground.”
Yuji beams up at him. “Okay, Uncle Sukuna! I’ll stay with you!”
You spend the morning moving from one exhibit to another, enjoying the wonder in Yuji’s eyes as he watches the animals with wide-eyed fascination. He claps excitedly at the lions, laughs at the playful monkeys, and insists on mimicking the penguins’ waddles, much to your amusement and Sukuna’s reluctant chuckles.
You take plenty of photos, capturing the joy on Yuji’s face and even getting a rare shot of Sukuna smiling genuinely, one arm slung casually around your shoulders as he watches Yuji with a fond, if exasperated, expression. You think that you’ll have fun looking through it and printing it out for the photo albums. You were sure Kaori and Jin would love to have some copies too.
By lunchtime, you settle down at a picnic table near the petting zoo area. You hand Yuji a juice box, and he takes it eagerly, swinging his legs and chattering non-stop about the animals he’s seen and what he wants to see next. You all carefully eat your lunches and just let the food settle down for a little while. Sukuna sat beside you, drinking a big glass of cola to try and cool off the heat.
“Auntie, Uncle, can we see the elephants next?” Yuji asks between sips, his face flushed with excitement.
You nod. “Absolutely. After we finish lunch, we’ll head over there.”
“That's on the other side of the zoo.” Sukuna points out to you.
You looked at your boyfriend with a small smile. “And guess what? We’re still going!”
Yuji grins and quickly finishes his juice, already standing up and tugging at your arm. “Okay, let’s go now!”
You laugh softly, but Sukuna gently pulls him back to the table. “Hey, slow down, kid. Let us finish our food first.”
Yuji pouts for a moment but eventually nods, bouncing on his toes while he waits. A few moments pass, and you’re almost done with your meal when a family nearby starts laughing loudly, drawing Yuji’s attention. Curious, he takes a few steps toward them, his bright almond eyes wide with interest.
“Yuji, stay close to us.” you remind him, keeping an eye on him as he moves closer to see what’s happening.
But as you turn to answer a question from Sukuna, just for a second, when you look back, Yuji is gone. Your heart drops to your stomach as your eyes open widely, your mouth shaking as you try to speak. You suddenly couldn’t speak and fright started to get to you.
“Yuji?” you call out, your voice a bit louder now, scanning the area. Panic begins to creep into your chest.
Your boyfriend Sukuna immediately stands up, his expression shifting from relaxed to alert in an instant. You can tell by the look in his eyes. He was just as panicked. 
“Where’d he go?” he asks, his voice tight with concern.
You feel a knot forming in your stomach as you look around frantically. “He was just here, babe…i just….”
Sukuna curses under his breath, his eyes scanning the crowded area with growing urgency. “Yuji!” he calls out, louder this time, his voice cutting through the chatter of the crowd.
You quickly weave through the nearby groups of people, calling Yuji's name, your heart racing. You could feel the knot of guilt in you. Your mind started to race with many thoughts. You could have looked after him better, you could have been more vigilant. You were the adult. How could you let this happen? Sukuna is right behind you, his hand protectively on your back as you search, his expression darkening with worry.
“He couldn't have gone far, babe.” you say, trying to keep the panic from your voice. “He’s probably just wandered off… right?”
Sukuna clenches his jaw, a determined look crossing his face. “Yeah, but we need to find him now.” he says firmly.
You both decided to split up, checking around the petting zoo and nearby exhibits. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and a dozen scenarios flash through your mind. But you push them aside, focusing on finding Yuji.
Minutes feel like hours as you weave through the crowds, your desperate voice growing hoarse from calling his name. Just as your heart is about to leap into full-blown panic, you hear a familiar, small voice.
“Auntie?”
You turn sharply and spot Itadori Yuji standing a few feet away, holding the hand of a zookeeper. Relief floods over you as you rush over, immediately dropping to your knees and wrapping your arms around him. You could feel like you were going to burst into tears just holding him like this. You were relieved. He was here. He was safe. He’s okay. You thank the gods above.
“Yuji! Thank goodness, you’re okay!” you say, your voice trembling with relief.
Yuji looks up at you with wide eyes, his lower lip trembling. “I’m sorry, Auntie. I just wanted to see the elephants…”
You hug him tighter, feeling your boyfriend’s presence beside you as he drops down to Yuji’s level, his expression stern but his eyes soft. He must have seen you both and ran over here as quickly as he could. He purses his lips int a tight line as he observed his nephew for injuries or bruises and even cuts.
“Brat, you scared us.” Sukuna says, ruffling Yuji’s hair more gently this time. “You have to stay close, got it? Don’t do that again.”
Yuji nods, tears brimming in his bright big eyes. “I’m sorry, Uncle Sukuna… I didn’t mean to…”
Sukuna’s expression softens completely, and he sighs, pulling Yuji into a hug. “Yeah, yeah, it’s okay, brat.” he mutters, his voice a little rough. “‘s not your fault, okay? Just….hold my hand next time.”
Yuji nods against his shoulder, and you reach over, brushing a tear from his cheek. “Come on, let’s go see those elephants, hmm? Together this time,” you say softly.
Yuji sniffles but nods, and you stand up, taking his hand. Sukuna rises too, keeping a protective arm around you both. “Yeah, together.” he agrees, his tone firm but warm.
You thank the zookeeper and solemnly leave, with Sukuna carrying Yuji in his arms still trying to comfort him. Your boyfriend pat his nephew’s back, stroking it over and over to comfort him. It broke your heart that Yuji was upset. But he was here. And he’ll be okay. That’s all that mattered to you. You knew just as much that Sukuna was the same.
The three of you head toward the elephant exhibit, Yuji keeps close between the two of you, his little hand gripping yours tightly, and Sukuna’s hand resting on his shoulder. Despite the scare, you feel a sense of calm wash over you, knowing that as long as you’re all together, everything will be alright. 
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──
day three
THE SLEEP WAS ROUGH LAST NIGHT. You didn’t want to let go of Yuji in your sleep. He had ended up not wanting to leave your bed last night and slept with you and Sukuna in your bedroom. He still was anxious from being lost, you can’t help but think. And you don’t really blame him for it. Sukuna didn’t utter a word and just let it be, wrapping the covers on your bodies and went to close the night light.
Come morning, you wake up to the sound of muffled clinking and clattering coming from the kitchen. You couldn’t help but blink your eyes open, the early light filtering through the curtains. Beside you, Sukuna stirs, frowning slightly at the noise. 
“What’s that racket?” he grumbles, rubbing his eyes.
You sit up, listening closely. The noise continues — the unmistakable sound of plates and silverware being moved around, a chair being dragged across the floor. You glance at Sukuna, a smile tugging at your lips. “Sounds like our little guest is up to something.”
Sukuna narrows his eyes suspiciously. “That brat better not be doing anything dangerous in there.” he mutters, though there’s no real heat in his voice.
You both get out of bed and quietly make your way to the kitchen, peeking around the corner. There, in the middle of the kitchen, stands Yuji, a determined expression on his face as he tries to balance on a chair he's pushed against the counter.
His small hands are busy spreading a thick, uneven layer of butter on a piece of bread, followed by an enthusiastic dollop of jam. Nearby, a bowl of cereal overflows with milk, and a few spilled Cheerios are scattered across the counter.
Yuji mutters to himself under his breath, clearly focused on his task. “Okay, okay… just a little more…” He tips the milk carton a bit too far, and more milk splashes onto the counter. He gasps softly but quickly goes back to his sandwich-making, a look of concentration on his face.
You can’t help but smile, and Sukuna, despite his earlier grumbling, looks a bit amused too. “What’s he doing?” Sukuna whispers, leaning closer to you.
“I think… he’s making us breakfast, babe.” you whisper back, feeling your heart melt a little.
Before you can say anything, Yuji notices you both standing there. His eyes widen in surprise, but then he beams, his face lighting up with pride.
“Auntie! Uncle Sukuna!” he exclaims. “Good morning! I… I made you breakfast!” He gestures to the chaotic spread on the counter, looking so proud of himself that you can’t help but feel a swell of affection.
You step forward, giving him a warm smile. “Wow, Yuji! This looks… delicious!” you say, trying to sound as genuine as possible while suppressing a laugh at the mess.
Sukuna crosses his arms, one eyebrow raised, but there’s a soft look in his eyes. “Yeah, brat, you really outdid yourself.” he says with a small grin. “What’s the occasion?”
Yuji’s smile falters a little, and he looks down at his feet, shuffling nervously. “I… I wanted to say sorry for yesterday.” he mumbles. “I didn’t mean to make you worry… So I wanted to make you a special breakfast to make up for it.”
Your heart melts at his sincerity. You crouch down to his level and pull him into a gentle hug. “Oh, Yuji, you don’t have to do that for us.” you say softly. “We know you didn’t mean to worry us. We’re just happy you’re safe.”
Yuji hugs you back tightly, burying his face in your shoulder for a moment. “But I wanted to, Auntie!” he insists. “Because I love you and Uncle Sukuna… and I wanted to make you smile.”
Sukuna’s expression softens further, and he crouches down next to you, ruffling Yuji’s hair. “Hey, brat, you already made us feel relieved.” he says gruffly, though his voice is unusually gentle. “But I guess we should at least taste this fine meal you’ve prepared, huh?”
Yuji’s face lights up again, and he nods eagerly. “Yes! I made a sandwich and cereal! It’s my favorite!”
You and Sukuna exchange a glance, amused but touched by Yuji’s earnestness. You take a bite of the butter-and-jam sandwich, doing your best to keep a straight face as the unevenly spread butter melts on your tongue alongside a very generous layer of sweet jam.
“It’s… unique.” you say, giving Yuji a big smile. “Thank you, Yuji.”
Sukuna follows suit, picking up the cereal bowl and taking a careful sip of the overly milky concoction. “Mmm.” he says with a nod, holding back a chuckle. “Not bad, brat. Not bad at all.”
Yuji beams, clearly delighted by your reactions. “Yay! I’m glad you like it!” He claps his hands, his earlier nerves completely gone now.
You reach over and give Yuji another hug. “Thank you for being so thoughtful, Yuji.” you say warmly. “You’ve definitely made our morning.”
Sukuna nods, wrapping an arm around Yuji’s shoulders. “Yeah, brat….you’re alright.” he says, a rare softness in his tone. “But next time, let’s make breakfast together, okay? Might save a little bit of the kitchen from total destruction.”
Yuji giggles, nodding eagerly. “Okay, Uncle Sukuna! Next time, we’ll make pancakes!”
You smile, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you as you look at the two of them. Despite the mess, despite the unexpectedness of it all, you can’t think of a better way to start the day.
Later that morning, as you and Sukuna help Yuji clean up the kitchen — which now looks like it’s survived a mini tornado — your phone rings. You glance at the screen and see it’s Jin calling. You exchange a quick look with Sukuna, who’s wiping a smear of jam off the counter, and answer the call.
“Hey, Jin!” you greet him warmly, keeping an eye on Yuji, who is carefully stacking dishes in the sink. “How’s everything going?”
Jin’s voice comes through, sounding a bit tired but cheerful. “Hey! We’re wrapping up at work sooner than we thought. Kaori’s gonna arrive in a day or two. I just wanted to let you know I’m on my way back home. I should be there in a few hours.”
You feel a pang of mixed emotions — relief that Jin and Kaori are safe and on their way back, but also a little sadness knowing this means Yuji’s stay with you is coming to an end. “That’s great news, Jin.” you say, glancing at Yuji. “We’ve had such a fun time with Yuji, he’s been wonderful.”
Jin laughs. “I’m glad to hear that! I hope he wasn't too much trouble for you guys.”
Sukuna snorts softly, overhearing the conversation. “Trouble? That’s an understatement.” he mutters, though there’s a fondness in his voice that he doesn’t bother hiding.
You grin at Sukuna’s comment before turning your attention back to Jin. “No trouble at all.” you assure him. “Yuji’s been an absolute sweetheart.”
Jin sighs, a smile evident in his tone. “Thanks for looking after him. We’ll come to pick him up as soon as we get back.”
You hang up the phone and turn to Yuji, who’s watching you with wide, curious eyes. He tilts his head slightly. “Was that Daddy?” he asks, his little voice hopeful.
You nod, smiling gently. “Yes, Yuji. Your dad said he and your mom are on their way back. They’ll be here to pick you up soon.”
Yuji’s face falls, and his shoulders slump. “But… but I don’t wanna go home yet.” he murmurs, his lower lip jutting out in a pout. “I’m having so much fun with you and Uncle Sukuna…”
Sukuna raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looks down at his nephew. “Oh, come on, brat.” he says, trying to sound stern but failing miserably. “You miss your parents, don’t you?”
Yuji frowns and shakes his head, his small hands clenching the hem of his shirt. “But I wanna stay here longer! We didn’t even make cookies yet!” he protests, looking between you and Sukuna with pleading eyes.
You kneel down to his level, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Yuji, we’ve had so much fun with you, and we’re going to miss you too.” you say softly. “But your mom and dad miss you too, and they can’t wait to see you.”
Yuji’s eyes welled up with tears, and he looked down, his voice barely a whisper. “I know… but I like being here… with you two.”
Sukuna sighs, his expression softening. He crouches down beside you, his hand resting on Yuji’s shoulder. “Hey, brat.” he says, his tone gentler now, “Just because you’re going home doesn’t mean we won’t see you again. We’ll have more fun days together, I promise.”
Yuji sniffles, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Really?”
“Really.” Sukuna confirms, ruffling his hair. “And next time, we’ll definitely make those cookies, huh? Maybe even chocolate chip ones. What do you say?”
Yuji’s face brightens a little, and he nods, his tears already forgotten at the mention of chocolate chip cookies. “Okay… but can we still go to the park one last time before I go home?”
You exchange a glance with Sukuna, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “Alright, one last trip to the park.” he concedes with a smirk. “But only because you already made us breakfast.”
Yuji grins, and you can’t help but smile too, your heart feeling full. “Let’s get ready, then.” you say, standing up and taking Yuji’s hand. “One more adventure before your parents come to get you.”
Yuji cheers, jumping up and down excitedly. “Yay! Let’s go!” he exclaims, all traces of sadness gone.
As you head out the door, you feel Sukuna’s hand slip into yours, giving it a light squeeze. “You’re good with him, you know? Thank you for that, babe.” he murmurs, a rare softness in his voice. 
You smile up at him. “Oh, you don’t have to thank me. You’re just as good with taking care of him, you know? Love that about you, babe.” you reply.
Sukuna couldn’t help but snorts but doesn’t disagree, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he leads the way, Yuji’s laughter filling the air. And for now, that’s all that matters.
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──
epilogue
Itadori Choso finally arrives home from college after a long drive. He was eager to spend some time with his little brother, Yuji. Being far gone in college, all he thinks about is when he’d get to play with his little brother. And he can’t wait. He steps into the house, dropping his bags by the door with a loud thud, and immediately calls out in front of his mother.
“Yuji! I’m back!”
Yuji, who has been doodling in the living room, perks up and runs over to greet him. “Big brother!” he shouts, throwing his arms around his older brother in a big hug. But no sooner has he hugged Choso than he starts babbling excitedly. “Guess what! I had the best time ever with Uncle Sukuna and Auntie!”
Choso’s smile wavers slightly, and he looks down at Yuji with a puzzled expression. “Oh, did you?” he asks, his tone laced with a bit of unease. “What did you do with them?”
Yuji’s eyes light up as he launches into a detailed recount of every moment spent with you and Sukuna, from the trip to the zoo to making breakfast and playing at the park. “And then Uncle Sukuna said we’ll make chocolate chip cookies next time! And Auntie said we could go to the beach too!”
Choso’s smile turns into a slightly forced grin as he listens, nodding along but feeling a twinge of jealousy in his chest. “Wow, sounds like you had… a lot of fun.” he says, trying to keep his voice light. “But hey, I’m back now, so we can have fun too, right? We can do all the things we used to do!”
Yuji’s face scrunches up in thought for a moment before he shrugs. “I guess…” he says, a bit too nonchalantly for Choso’s liking. “But Uncle Sukuna is really funny, and Auntie gives the best hugs. And we were going to make pancakes!”
Choso’s eye twitches slightly. “I can make cookies too, you know,” he says, sounding just a tad defensive. “I’ve been making them for you since forever, Yuji.”
Yuji nods, but he looks unconvinced. “Yeah, but… Uncle Sukuna flips them really high in the air. And Auntie says we can put as many chocolate chips as we want!”
Choso crosses his arms, his brow furrowing. “Oh, really?” he mutters. “Well, I bet Uncle Sukuna can’t make cookies shaped like dinosaurs like I can.” He puffs out his chest a little, feeling smug.
Yuji’s eyes widen for a second, but then he shrugs again. “Maybe!” he admits. “But Uncle Sukuna and Auntie took me to the zoo and the park, and we saw a real dinosaur—uh, I mean, a lizard that looked like one!”
Choso’s eyebrow twitches again, and he huffs. “Yeah, well, that’s cool and all, but I’m way cooler than Uncle Sukuna, right?” he says, trying to sound casual, but his voice pitches a little higher than usual.
Yuji tilts his head, considering this for a long, exaggerated moment. “Umm… I dunno…” he finally says, looking genuinely torn. “You’re both cool. But Uncle Sukuna can lift me with one arm! Can you do that?”
Choso frowns. “Of course, I can! I’m your big brother!” He scoops Yuji up in a single swift motion, lifting him high into the air. “See? I’m strong too!”
Yuji giggles, kicking his legs. “Okay, okay! You’re strong too, Choso!”
Choso sets him down with a triumphant grin, feeling like he’s finally won this little contest. “See? You don’t need Uncle Sukuna. You’ve got me.”
But then, just as Choso thinks he’s secured his place as Yuji’s favorite, you and Sukuna walk through the front door, having stopped by to return a forgotten toy. Yuji’s face lights up like a thousand-watt bulb. “Auntie! Uncle Sukuna!” he squeals, running over to you both.
Choso watches, deflated, as Yuji clings to your leg, babbling excitedly about your return. He turns to Sukuna, glaring a little. “So, you think you’re the cool uncle, huh?” he grumbles.
Sukuna smirks, crossing his arms with a cocky grin. “I don’t think, kid. I know.”
Choso rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath, “I knew I should’ve stayed home this semester…” 
You laugh, noticing Choso’s pout, and lean in conspiratorially. “Don’t worry, Choso.” you say with a wink. “There’s always room for many cool people in Yuji’s life.”
Choso sighs but manages a smile. “Yeah, yeah, I guess so.” he mutters, giving in with a playful eye roll. “But I’m still making those dinosaur cookies with him today.”
Yuji bounces up and down excitedly. “Dinosaur cookies with chocolate chips!” he exclaims, clearly enjoying this newfound competition for his affection.
Sukuna scoffs, grinning. “Game on, Choso. Game on.”
And with that, Choso knows his days of being Yuji’s favorite are numbered… but at least it’ll be fun trying to win back the title.
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sunniskyies · 4 months ago
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𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 || 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐧𝐞-𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭
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𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Reader forgets she has Ford’s mind reading device on… 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Ford Pines x fem!shy!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: - 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Makeout, fluffy shy stuff 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k 𝐀/𝐍: This is so so so out of my league with this kind of thing, but I had a vision and had to try, so forgive me if it’s not the best !! ( you can read this as young or old Ford by the way ! )
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“Are you going to tell me what exactly that is?” You ask shyly, perched neatly on a wooden stool in the deepest room of Ford’s laboratory. The man in question is bustling around the benches, plugging in wires and fiddling with dials and buttons.
“It’s a mental-strengthening device, able to encrypt one’s thoughts to prevent dream demons like Bill Cipher from entering.”
You purse your lips. “Ah. Of course.”
Ford looks briefly over at you while he tinkers. “I don’t want any chance of that creature making his way into our world. The damage he causes is… irrevocable.”
You fall silent, quietly studying the scientist’s practised hands and that little furrow in his brow you doubt he’s aware of. You see it often, in your stolen glances as you set his coffee down in the mornings, or when his eyes linger for a moment on his work when you call for his attention.
You let yourself sit in the warm feeling that spreads through your skin, toying with the fantasy of him for just a moment. Before you know it, Ford is approaching you with a gadget in his hands, and you’re pushing those silly thoughts from your mind.
“This is the receiver,” Ford explains, gesturing to the sieve-like helmet in his hands. “May I put it on you?”
All you manage is a ‘mhm’, and you hope your ears aren’t bright red when Ford places the bronze contraption over your hair. As he adjusts it here and there his fingers often brush your skin, you’re mortified as goosebumps shiver over your skin. Luckily, from what you know about Stanford Pines, he isn’t the most observant man unless you happen to have three eyes or an off-on switch.
Being Ford’s assistant has been the best opportunity of your life, but childishly you often wish for something more. To see those lips say your name not just to thank you for your helping hands. To have the confidence to show Ford the book of research you’ve been privately gathering, his eyes catching yours as he realises the potential he’d never seen in you before…
For the millionth time reality pulls you from your daydreams. Ford crouches down slightly, your faces level, your eyes on his while his are at your hairline. A six-fingered hand gently tucks loose strands back from your face.
“There,” he says, eyes catching yours. “Equipped. How does that feel?”
You swallow, voice a tad too squeaky, “All good!” 
“Perfect. I’ll begin the calibration, inform me if you experience any discomfort,” he nods, satisfied, before sweeping away again.
As you wait, you silently tap on your knees, looking around. You look over the table behind you to see a television screen with—
Your thoughts.
A string of your most embarrassing ideas visualised on a ceiling-high collection of screens, unarguably clingy and desperate desires paired with Ford’s name scrolling everywhere.
You whip your gaze over to Ford, dew already appearing over your skin. He seems to be engrossed in whatever's in his hands, but it’s only a matter of time before he sees all… that!
Fuck, fuck, fuck! The screens mirror the chant in your mind.
You try vainly to think of other things, random words and imagery slowly but surely creeping onto the televisions. Polar Bears. Adjectives. Pencils, pens, markers. Dates and historical impact of various civil wars. Charity raffles. That one catchy jingle. Discombobulation. Ambystoma mexicanum.
Ford looks up. “Finished!” He says with a quick smile.
You quietly clear your throat. “Uhm. Wow! This is very clever, Ford, although I must admit didn’t realise it displayed the user's consciousness?”
His eyebrows raise at your question, before his face softly twists with confusion as he stares at the reading. He glances back over at you with the face of someone just realising how stupid something is. Yet, you almost slump with relief. At least he only thinks you're simple, not a freak.
“Well, yes, it does. Did I not mention that?” He says slowly. “I was going to suggest you exercise your brain to ensure the program reaches every aspect of your cognition… but it seems you’re… already… doing that?” He questions hesitantly. Your smile is too-bright.
“Oh, yes, that is what I am doing. Yep.” You squeak.
“Right.”
The silence is palpable, a thick sludge that clings to your form. Sometimes both your wandering stares slide over each other, awkward blips before you both avert eye contact. You hear the hum of machinery, the soft tap of your shoe on the floor. Your fingers itch to grab your journal from your pocket to give yourself something to do with your hands, but you’re embarrassed at what Ford would see as you ponder over it. The silence stretches on and on, until you can’t bear not to break it.
“So, you, uhm, said something about exercising the mind?” You blurt sheepishly.
Ford’s eyes are immediately on you. “Yes! Yes, just try to keep your mind active, it helps the protection process.”
And the silence is back. Perhaps even worse than before.
Desperate for relief, you pull your journal from your pocket. You wave it weakly, “Mind if I do some work?”
Ford adjusts his glasses. “No, no of course not. Go ahead.” He gestures at the various desks stationed around the room. You shoot him a quick smile and spin on your stool to the table next to you, propping open the journal and continuing an essay you plan to submit as a paper in your current university course.
This works, taking your mind off your vulnerability as you focus on your work. This is what you love about science, about academia, the ability to lose yourself in something so complex, so worthwhile. You really can’t wait to get your research out there and make a name for yourself.
You write for a while, pen often times balanced between teeth. You don’t quite register Ford coming up behind you until his tilted head is in your peripheral.
“Fantastic,” he mutters absently, his face well and truly absorbed on the open page. Embarrassed, you half-heartedly cover the page with your hands.
“Oh, no, it’s really not anything special.” You mumble, eyes averted. 
“No, really, I love it. You’re studying quantum physics, right?” He insists, head tilted trying to catch his eye. When you do, he has a soft smile painted on. Your cheeks glow pink.
“Yes, I major in quantum physics and forensic science. I minor in biomedical engineering, and I’m additionally doing an online paper on parapsychology with the only university that does it, in, uh, Finland.” The sparkle in Ford’s eyes grows as you timidly recite your areas of study.
“Parapsychology? That’s brilliant!” He remarked, awed. “Why didn’t you say that, I would love to take you out on my field days. I study all sorts of paranormal and supernatural activity here. It'd be great to share it with someone.”
“Oh, I don’t want to trouble you,” you say hushed, fending off a stammer. Internally, your heart is soaring. Yes yes yes!
“It’d be no trouble,” he says earnestly, soft features returned as if coaxing you out of your shell. “I knew you were smart, but I had no idea the extent,’ he says, almost to himself.
Your eyes lock on him immediately. “You think that?”
He seems surprised. “Of course I do. You’re an exceptional assistant, and you’ve been in study for ages. I’ve heard nothing less than great things about when I send my own work to our local university. Not many scholars live out here, you know?”
You can’t drag your eyes away from him, and you're sure Ford can see every star in the galaxy swirling in your pupils right now. This is everything, everything you’ve wanted.
You’re not sure whether it’s the surge of confidence, or the way Ford’s looking so gently at you, but you’re acutely aware of how low Ford has bent down to talk to you. It would only take a small movement to bring your faces together.
And so, heart fluttering with this moment of bravery, you rise slightly up on the balls of your feet and press a small kiss to Ford’s cheek.
“Thank you,” you breathe, the sensation in your chest borderline sickening. “It, uh, means a lot.”
Ford doesn’t say a word, eyes wide but painfully unreadable. The silence is once again, stifling.
“Not a lot of fellow scientists in this area, like you said,” You hastily ramble on after a long moment. The gap doesn’t last this time, though.
In a swift motion Ford’s hand is at your cheek. You barely have time to inhale before his lips are on yours, their warmth sinking against your mouth.
You’d never imagined them to be so firm, although his proximity doesn’t give your mind any room to think about anything. It’s all happening so fast, your mind dizzied as you reciprocate his intentful kisses.
Your pen clatters slightly on the table as your hand releases it, quickly gripping to Ford as his arms snake around you and lift you up. He spins, setting you on the table in the middle of the room. You’re sure at some point you have or will let slip an embarrassing sound, but you’re wholly focused on Ford and how you’re sitting at his level on the tall table; him standing before you with his hands at your waist. Your knees brush either side of his thighs.
Your hands bury themselves in his hair, his hands in turn pull you closer. It’s eager and messy, making your pulse thud wildly. You never thought a man would want you like this, never catching an eye. Let alone the genius that is—
Abruptly, his lips leave yours, the emptiness not lasting long as they move just beneath your lip, then down to your jaw. They trail down to the side of your neck, lips brushing over the shiver on your skin. Small breaths leave your mouth when you feel a glimmer of teeth against your collarbone.
You tilt your head, resting against his where he’s kissing your shoulder in the crook of your neck. Your hands remain tangled in his hair, your eyes closed.
Your bodies are so close together, his lips are all-consuming. It’s bliss. The man you’ve loved for so long, holding you like he’s besotted. Like he’s just as infatuated as you. The thought thrills through your mind; He wants me.
“I can assure you, I most certainly do,” Ford murmurs breathlessly against your skin. You pause, the statement uncannily sounding like a response to your thought…
Oh. Oh no.
The machine. The mind reading. The television directly behind your back.
You haltingly turn your head, face pale. The screen is, in fact, still reciting your thoughts. Every thought. And Ford’s facing it.
“Oh my god,” You groan, palming your forehead. You sink into yourself, drowning in humiliation. But Ford’s hand fishes beneath your chin, tipping your glowing face to look at him. His face is one of endless kindness beneath his mussed hair.
“It’s really not a bad thing, sweetness.” He says gently. You shake your head slightly, eyes squeezing shut.
His thumb creeps up the side of your face, face dipping level to yours. “No, seriously. It’s a very encouraging thing for a man to see.” He jokes warmly. You peek an eye open. Heavens, did he have to look so irresistibly handsome all the time?
“Should I, uhm, remove…” you gesture at the contraption atop your head, teeth worrying your lip.
Ford hesitates for a moment, thinking as his thumb strokes your cheek. “No. No, it’s too important. I can’t have Bill infiltrating your mind.” 
You wilt slightly, but Ford once again brings you back to him. “It’ll only take a moment. Half an hour at most.” His eyes flicker fleetingly at your lips. “And besides, it’ll be sunset by then. I hear you can see a meteor shower tonight? If you drive up the hill a little.”
You hum a soft confirmation, smile melting onto your flushed features as Ford presses a last kiss to your cheek. “Good,” He murmurs. “I’ll go fetch the coats.”
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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @sleeplessdreamer14 @2hiigh2cry @taffycandyqt @papi-machucha @muffin1304
 @space1crow @fries11 @yasuuuudere @shadowsandswords @darling-eos
@bloodspatteredprincess @snake-in-a-flower-crown @defmxl @ryanthatsgay2
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© sunniskyies 2024, do not repost or translate my work
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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 6 months ago
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Stick Around
~1.2k words
Jason Todd is your best friend. But sometimes you're not sure if you're his.
"Back off. I can stitch it myself." He nearly barks at you when you press the towel to his bleeding wound.
"Come on, Jason. Why can't I help?" You ask, trying to keep the worry and pleading from your voice.
"I don't want you to." He says, firm and flat as he pulls away, dragging the towel and the first aid kit with him. He doesn't go very far, but you have a sinking feeling that's more owed to the bathroom being small than him wanting to stay near you.
You shift on your feet, torn between listening– respecting his boundaries or stepping closer to help. You take a step, unable to stay away from him when his lips curl into a frown as he starts stitching his own wound.
"Let me. I know how. You taught me." You try again, careful and soft like you're the one that terrifies the worst of Gotham.
"I said no. Just give me some space." He tells you, hands working steadily to piece his skin back together. You vaugley wonder how many times he's done this alone.
Then his words register. You can't stop your face from crumbling. "You want me to leave?"
He doesn't look up, doesn't respond, too engrossed in his injury.
You nod a little, more to yourself than him as you scoot around him, avoiding brushing any part of him as you slip out the bathroom door. Hesitating, you quietly close the door behind you and linger in the hallway, unsure. How much space did he want? Was he upset with you? Did he want you to leave the apartment?
You let out a sigh and slowly head for the apartment door. You can stay at friends tonight. Stuffing down the emotions welling in your chest, you grab your jacket and start to shove your shoes on.
"Where are you going?" A sharp tone cuts you out of your self pity.
"You told me to leave?" You question, gaze snapping to him.
He stands there, hand over the gauze wrapped on his side and studies you. "No."
"No?" You echo, slowly lowering your coat.
"I only– I didn't want you to get any blood on you. Or see me like that. I don't want you to leave. Why would I ever not want to see you?” He says with a scoff, stepping closer to pull you away from the door, glaring at it like it personally offended him. “You’re the only person I want to be around, it’s maddening, I don’t know why anyone else even tries to speak to me when I can’t get my mind off of you-“
He shudders, like a huge weight has left his shoulders, words cutting off. He presses a kiss against your skin, without thinking, his mouth finding the juncture between your shoulder and your neck, pulling you tight against him. "I want you to stay here. With me." He murmurs against your skin before pulling back just enough to see your face.
"Oh." You fall quiet for a moment, looking anywhere but him as you start to speak again, fighting the heat that threatens to take over your face, "I don't mind. Blood, I mean. Not if I'm helping you."
He can't stop the smile that comes to his face, always so easy and present around you.
Jason reaches out, his fingers touching your chin, gently tapping it, to make you look at him. “Do you still think I don’t want you here? That I don’t want you around?” he asks, voice low.
You waver, eyes trailing back to his. "Well, no, I mean, I know you want me around."
"Good." He says softly, fingers lingering on your skin, on your face, on your waist. It makes you feel wanted, needed, safe.
The moment is so soft, so warm and inviting you want to lose yourself in it. But it feels like a lie to let yourself stay in it. Not when he's all you ever seem to want. When you dream of the color of his eyes and the feeling of his skin against yours. "Are you feeling dizzy? Need to sit down?" You ask, cutting the moment, the feeling that it could be something more, short.
He hums softly, like he expected your avoidance. "You don't have to run from me."
That makes you blink, surprise painting your features. "I'm not running. I'm not going anywhere."
"Oh please, there's so many things I know you've been holding out on me." He laughs a little before kissing your neck and whispering into your ear. "You wanted me way before I knew it was okay to admit wanting you. And now I'm going to make up for all that lost time." He looks at you with an intention you can feel behind his eyes. "There's nothing I won't do for you, nothing that I won't give you because you deserve the world and more." He kisses your forehead and smiles down at you softly as he sighs your name. "So don't run."
That makes your brain short circuit. And then the flood of scrambled thoughts overtake your mind. He knows you want him? Of course he does– He's one of the greatest detectives in the world, maybe even the universe. Why did you think you could hide it? How long has he known? But one thought persists above the rest. He wants you to?
Jason gently taps your hip, dragging your attention from the frantic jumble of questions in your head. "Focus on me. Not whatever's going on in your head. I don't need an answer right now. I just want you to be here." He says your name like it's precious, a treasure to keep close. "Please."
You nod slowly, trying to calm your pounding heart, to get your body to listen to you and answer him or touch him or anything.
"I could just kiss you right here. I could do that. You know, just take advantage of the situation? How you can't seem to believe that I want you. But..." he tilts his head, running his thumb along your jaw, "I want to kiss you when I know you're ready. For you to want it as badly as I do, pretty."
"What if I do?" You ask quietly, scared to break the tension building around the two of them. "What if I want to kiss you, Jason?"
"Yeah?" he whispers, his fingers finally gripping your hair, his thumb lightly caressing your neck. His eyes are locked on yours, and all the emotions that seem to be swirling around inside him right now are all concentrated on one, simple thing: keeping you.
"Yeah." You echo, just as quiet and soft as his voice.
He doesn't ask again, doesn't hesitate, just kisses you with the desperation of years of built of tension and longing glances. He kisses you like you're worth something, and you are. You're everything to him, and he now that he has you like this, he won't let a day pass without reminding you.
Your fingers curl in his shirt, his hand tightens in your hair and everything else seems to fade away when you deepen the kiss. Jason Todd is your best friend. And you're starting to believe that you're more than just that to him.
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entitled-fangirl · 5 months ago
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Peculiar.
Cregan Stark x seer!reader
Summary: the reader whispers away, but Cregan doesn’t mind.
Masterlist
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…………………………
"My love? What are you doing?"
Y/n sat in the middle of the garden in the dark, something in her hand.
"It's cold, my dear wife. What has caught your attention?" Cregan tried again.
A frog sat in her hand and she didn't let her gaze leave it. "The lead-footed toad will try to grow a hand," she whispered softly to herself.
He let out a soft sigh, knowing she was stuck in her head. He knelt down next to her, looking at the frog. "Are you cold?"
"The lead-footed toad."
"I know," he whispered back. "I know. But are you cold, my love?"
No answer came from her.
He reached up and gently touched her shoulder, and when she flinched instinctively, he was ready to calm her, "Shh. It's just me."
She relaxed at that, as if finally returning to the world. The frog had jumped from her hand when she had flinched and she looked back to her hand and began to frantically search the dirt around her for it.
Cregan reached out and grabbed her hands, "Hey. Hey. C'mere."
She looked back up at him, "It will try to grow a hand, Cregan."
He nodded, "I understand." He never quite did, but he knew better than to try to make it make sense to him. If it made sense to her, that's all that mattered. "You're freezing. Let us return to the warm walls, yes?"
"What if it succeeds?"
He frowned, "The toad?"
She nodded.
He shrugged, "Then he'll be the first of his kind, I suppose. But that's quite unlikely, don't you think?"
She considers his words and eventually nods, "Yes. Yes. I think so."
He smiles and brushes hair from her face, "C'mon. Up."
The two returned to the castle, but not without a last look at the dirt her frog had once been in.
The next spell happened in the dead of night.
It was actually quite unusual for it to surprise her in sleep.
She sat up, wide eyed, and in a dead sweat. Her breathing was erratic.
She looked to Cregan who slept like the dead.
The dead.
Her dream. "The fire will drown all but the two deserving of dying and they will claim it for themselves," she whispered to remember.
She pulled the blankets from herself and got up from the bed and moved to the fireplace.
She stared at the flames.
The fire will drown them.
Even she couldn't understand who.
Cregan rubbed his eyes and looked to her side of the bed, immediately frowning when she was not there.
He sat up, scanning the room and relaxing when he saw her, "Sweet girl?" His voice echoed in the quiet room.
She looked over her shoulder to him and wiped her face, "Sorry. Couldn't sleep."
He nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Alright," he said awkwardly. He wasn't sure what to do. "Want to talk about it?”
"Hmm?"
"The dream I know you had." He stated. "Do you want to talk about it?"
She hummed, "No. I don't think so."
"Come back to bed then."
"In a minute."
Cregan fell back onto the bed dramatically, "I shall catch hypothermia if my dear wife does not come warm me!"
She giggled, much more eager to join him.
His methods worked, and she was soon asleep on his chest.
The third one was sudden.
Cregan was busy sparring in the courtyard with a fellow swordsman, perfecting his skills.
She sat not too far with a book she was engrossed in.
But she suddenly dropped it and held her hands on either side of her head and her face scrunched in pain.
Cregan heard her whimper and he quickly abandoned his sword to move to her, "What's going on?"
She shook her head.
He knew the best method in this instance was to give her space, no matter how much he didn't want to.
She had a very sharp intake of breath and her eyes shot open. "Poison will stain the mouth of the ruler of the sun."
He tilted his head, "Hmm?"
"The… the poison. The sun…" Her voice faded as if uncertainty took over. "The ruler of the sun…"
He knelt in front of her, "You alright?"
She looked to him with a furrowed brow but she eventually nodded.
He let out a soft breath, leaning forward to capture her lips for just a moment.
He pulled away, "Let me clean up, and we'll discuss this 'ruler of the sun'. Yes?"
She let out a radiant smile, "Please."
He couldn't stop a small smile from running across his face as well.
She was such a peculiar thing, but he adored it.
……………………………..
Cregan Stark taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, @8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor
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