#THIS WAS THE BEST ONE THOUGH BECAUSE I SAID IT RIGHT BEFORE HE DID 🫶🫶🫶

[lumiereandcogsworth]

only respect for MY president

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Part 1

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

Chapter warnings: A lot of mood and scene setting—just vibe with it, MC is in her sad girl era, hints of depression and anxiety, masturbation, Yoongi is a new dad y’all he is tireddd af

Word count: almost 6k

Posting date: November 12, 2024

Notes: This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme. Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕🫶🏼

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Masterlist

Namjoon leans back in his seat, sporting an all-too-familiar, slightly conspiratorial glint in his eyes. Hmm. You know that look. 

It's the same one he had when he "casually" set you up to tutor one of his trainee friends in English—the one you let slip was kinda cute. Or when he signed you up to perform with one of his rapper friends in that underground club in Hongdae. Sure, you knew every word of the chorus to eminem’s Stan, but you were not a fucking singer. 

You still did it, though. Both times. 

Namjoon’s especially notorious for volunteering you to do things he insists are "right up your alley." There’s a fire in his eyes when he starts talking about one of his ideas, and before you know it, you're swept up in his vision, already picturing yourself right there beside him, doing something you’d never consider on your own.

Namjoon has been your best friend since forever and for reasons you can’t explain, saying no to him has always been impossible.

Right. It’s definitely that. It’s definitely not because in those two prior instances mentioned, both friends of his are actually the same guy. The one you had an almost crippling crush on over a decade ago. (You’re sooo over it, though. Trust.)

When Namjoon leaned in, you were already bracing yourself.

“So, you know Yoongi, right?”

You blink, pause, and slowly shake your head. It has taken years, but today is the day you tell him, “No.”

“The fuck? What do you mean no?” He replies, already looking hella amused. “I haven’t even said anything.”

Your face feels like a furnace, but you grit and steady your voice. “Whatever it is, the answer is no.”

He lets out a hum, shifting in his seat, and you get the sense he’s working up to something. 

You sip your coffee, keeping your eyes on him. He gives you an exaggerated shrug, dimples deepening as he lets his shoulder sag. 

God you’re literally already about to break. 

“Fuck. Joon. Spit it out.”

He nods triumphantly, “Ok, there’s something I thought I’d run by you first, before he hears about it.”

The words hang in the air, and you raise an eyebrow. “Joon. What are you getting me into?”

Namjoon chuckles softly as he folds his hands on the table. “So… Yoongi has a son. A baby, actually.” He pauses, watching for your reaction. 

Woah. Someone has fuckboi Min Yoongi all locked down?! Huh. You never saw that coming.

You let that sink in, surprise filling the quiet space between you. “I… didn’t know he had a kid.”

“Not many people do,” Namjoon admits. “Only those close to him know. Yoongi’s a great dad, but his caretaker recently left, and now he’s scrambling to balance his schedule and take care of his son.”

“And his wife?”

Namjoon sighs, gives you a look that means he’s about to say something confidential. “There’s no wife.”

“Baby mama?”

“Out of the picture.”

You let out a small breath, absorbing everything you just heard. You already had an idea of where this is leading up to, but you want it said explicitly. “So what exactly are you asking me?”

Namjoon nods, eyes hopeful. “Look, I know this is a big ask. I’m putting this out there because you’re one of the best with kids I know. And Yoongi—well, he’s pretty wary about letting new people get close to his son.”

You take another sip of your latte as he prattles on.

“While you’re still getting your bearings back, maybe you could take over the caretaker job, even part time?” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly as he says your name. “I just thought you might consider it. You’d be doing us both a favor. Yoongi really needs help, and I’d trust you more than anyone with this.”

You sit back, letting Namjoon’s words settle. Namjoon knows exactly what he’s asking—knows exactly how hard it is for you to refuse when he gives you that puppy dog look, especially when he’s throwing Yoongi into the mix. Honestly, you hate how you're apparently still soft for him even after all these years.

Namjoon also knows your current situation. Does he not realize it’s a bit unfair to ask this of you right now? Not when you're still picking up the pieces after your breakup with your long-term boyfriend. Not when you need time to heal. Not when you literally uprooted your life and just moved back to Seoul a month ago.

But somehow, you can’t shake the curiosity. What would it even be like to see Yoongi as a dad? To get a glimpse of this whole other life he’s got now?

It’s probably a terrible idea. 

Yeah, no. You don’t need this right now. Money isn’t tight. And you need to focus on… 

You take a slow breath, mentally tracing the edges of this mess. There are a hundred reasons to say no, and only one reason you’d even consider saying yes. And because it’s for Yoongi… damn, maybe that’s reason enough.

The next time you see Yoongi, it’s at HYBE’s massive rehearsal space. Namjoon had invited you to watch the group practice—innocent enough, though you know it’s also his way of nudging you toward the job. Joon thinks he’s subtle, but you know his plans are, more often than not, clunky as hell.

You settle in one corner, holding on to your half-finished iced Americano. A few staff are scattered around the studio, there was another girl (maybe a member’s girlfriend, you’re not sure), but it’s mostly empty. The boys are warming up, stretching or chatting, and you wave to Jungkook and Taehyung before finding yourself glancing toward Yoongi.

Wearing an all black outfit and a baseball cap, he’s standing off to the side, arms full with a fussy baby, and a bassinet stroller in front of him. The boy can’t be more than a few months shy of his first birthday. He’s close to tears, twisting and squirming, while Yoongi, visibly flustered, tries to hand him a toy, then a bottle, then anything he can find. Nothing works. Soon, the baby’s fuss turns into a full-on tantrum.

Oh, damn. Poor Yoongi. 

He drops the bottle, spilling milk across the floor just as the stroller, half-locked, rolls a few feet away. He lunges for it, fumbling as the baby’s wailing intensifies, tiny fists flailing in frustration. Yoongi’s eyes dart around, panicked, while a couple of female staff start toward him, hands outstretched. But he waves them off, his face set in a mix of fierce determination and mild desperation as he rocks and hushes the baby.

It honestly hurts to watch the scene unfold. You almost want to do something.

Namjoon starts clearing people out, Jimin dims the studio lights, and Seokjin picks up the spilled bottle, wiping down the floor. Hobi taps a white noise track on his phone, placing it near the stroller. Your heart warms at how effortlessly everyone pitches in, their movements so practiced it’s obvious they’ve done this before. But it makes you wonder just how many rehearsals have paused for these moments. It’s probably why Namjoon wants to help find a solution, a.k.a you.

You meet your best friend’s gaze and he cocks his head toward the door, signaling for you to file out with the others, but your feet take you somewhere else entirely.

“Is he okay?” you ask, approaching Yoongi.

Yoongi doesn’t hear you at first, too focused on calming his son. His face is etched with exhaustion and something fragile, an uncharacteristic crack in his calm. He finally glances up, half-exasperated. To your mild relief, a look of recognition crosses his face, before he replies, “Yeah, he’s—he’s usually not this fussy.”

You watch him struggle for a bit, then, before you can second-guess, you step forward. “Do you mind if I try?”

Yoongi hesitates, studying you like he’s weighing the decision to trust you with his son. His eyes flick towards Namjoon who was standing by the door, before it goes back to you. After a tense pause, he nods, handing the baby over.

You hold the little boy, shifting him gently away from the mirrors and bright lights, rocking him slowly and humming an old lullaby you used to sing for your preschoolers. Gradually, his cries quiet down, his tiny head resting against your shoulder as he begins to relax, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt. Within minutes, he’s fast asleep.

When you glance up, Yoongi is watching, his face unreadable. There’s relief, yes, but also a quiet wonder, an almost surprised gratitude. 

“I owe you,” he murmurs, a softness in his voice you hadn’t expected.

“‘S ok,” you say, quietly, careful not to wake the baby.

The two of you stand there, his eyes on you for just a beat too long, and if you didn’t have the baby to ground you, you feel like you just might float.

“Thank you,” he says, tone soft and sincere.

From across the room, Namjoon watches, his eyes mirroring the same gratitude.

The call from Yoongi comes unexpectedly one evening, just after dinner. You don’t recognize the number, then again you don’t have a lot of +82s yet since you just moved back after many years of being in the States. The last thing you expect is to hear Yoongi’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey, it’s…Min Yoongi,” he starts, voice a little rough.

“Oh, hi.”

There’s a short silence, and then he clears his throat. “Namjoonie mentioned you uh might… be interested in helping with my son.”

You feel a strange flutter, both at the fact that Yoongi is talking to you, and at the fact that he’s asking something so personal. “Uh, yeah. I can help out.”

The pause is long enough that you imagine him somewhere, shifting uncomfortably. “I know it’s a lot to ask,” he finally says, sounding almost apologetic. “I don’t want to… impose or anything. But it would help. A lot.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you,” You hear Yoongi release a sigh of relief. Then he says the next phrase in a rush, “I know you are overqualified for this, so uh please let me compensate you with your salary as a teacher in America.”

You feel your face flush. Thank god this was not a video call. Seems you’re as uncomfortable as he is talking about money, though it is a necessary evil. “Oh, no, please Yoongi. You don’t have to. Joonie’s my bestfriend and you’re his brother. I can just help until you can find a more permanent solution.”

Thankfully, he doesn’t argue with you on this. You hear a puff of breath before he says. “Alright. Thank you.”

And just like that, you’re set. He gives you the address, and you’re left wondering for the rest of the night how you’ll manage this strange new gig.

The first day you arrive at Yoongi’s apartment in Hannam-dong, you’re a bundle of nerves, unsure what to expect. 

After you ring the bell, the door opens to reveal Yoongi with his usual reserved expression, a piece of muslin cloth draped on one shoulder.

“Hi,” he says simply, stepping aside to let you in.

You offer him a smile. “Hey.”

He closes the door behind you as you step inside. You look around, taking everything in.

The apartment is spacious but cozy, with a warmth that speaks of careful design—minimalistic furniture in muted colors, shelves lined with books and vinyl records, a few baby toys strewn around the living room. Homey.

This is the first time you get to really see Yoongi. The brief encounter at the rehearsal studio didn’t afford you the chance to appreciate how time has treated him. 

Seeing him after six years, he’s both the same and somehow different. He has always had that calm confidence—a steady, grounded energy that feels both nostalgic and new. His usually colorful hair, now in its natural hue, casually frames his face. He wears a simple white tee and you can tell the noodle arms are gone. His shoulders are much broader, arms stronger than how you remember him. The silver earrings are still there, subtle reminders of his edginess, softened by time.

But beneath it all, there’s a layer of, hmm… exhaustion, you guess? A shadow under his eyes, faint lines hinting at the weight of sleepless nights. His lips are chapped, there’s a tiny red bump on his chin. He’s a new dad, he hasn’t prioritized himself for a while. Still, his face carries a tenderness in the fatigue, like he’s tired, but happy.

“He’s napping right now,” Yoongi clears his throat, motioning toward a small crib by the window, where his son is sleeping peacefully, bundled in soft blankets. 

“You haven’t told me his name.”

“Haneul.”

“That’s beautiful,” you reply, and Yoongi nods, almost shy.

He hesitates, glancing down as if gathering his thoughts. Then he says your name. “I… um, I didn’t know how this would go. His last caretaker was actually my aunt, but she got sick and had to go back home.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that.”

He nods, “But after seeing how he calmed down with you… I think he’ll be alright.”

He gives you a tour of his apartment, the baby monitor clipped in his jean pocket. His place is modern, spacious, baby-proofed. There are pictures that line the walls of the hallway linking the nursery, his studio, guest room, guest bath, and the masters.

You spend some time going through Haneul’s things—familiarizing yourself with the layout of the nursery. He shows you where the baby food and snacks are. Talks about his favorite toys and activities. 

While he downloads the 101 on Haneul, the one thing you were curious to know was, where is his birth mom? You obviously don’t want to be a prick so you swallow the question down. Maybe you’ll find out in the future. But for now, you just need to know where the baby wipes are.

For the first few days that you come over, Yoongi keeps close, hovering just within earshot as you ease into the cadence of his son’s needs. He’s there with his arms folded, watching as you handle Haneul, a cautious yet respectful distance. You get it though. You’re a virtual stranger he just let into his home and his son’s life. Who wouldn’t be guarded?

You quickly notice that Haneul has a sweet temperament, but has a bit of a sensitive side. He doesn’t take to loud sounds, so you keep your voice low and movements gentle, singing him lullabies and nursery rhymes under your breath while Yoongi quietly observes, even if he pretends to be engrossed with something else.

On your third day, Yoongi has to leave to attend an important meeting at HYBE. He’s been pacing by the door, making sure his son is settled before he goes, even though you’re right there, holding the baby with practiced ease.

“Are you sure you’re… good with this?” he asks, his brow furrowed, as if still convincing himself to leave.

You give him a reassuring smile. “Go. I got him. He’ll be fine.”

He hesitates one last time, eyes fixed on you, and then he finally gives a small nod. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.”

As soon as the door closes, you’re left with the quiet hum of the apartment and a very awake, very curious baby in your arms. You spend the next hour rocking him and singing songs, amazed at how easily he settles, almost as if he’s known you longer than a few days.

After his nap, you take a video of the babbling Haneul enjoying his yogurt gems and send it to Yoongi. He replies almost immediately with a smiley emoji and a curt: cute.

Yoongi returns around dinnertime right as you’ve settled the baby down in his bed. He steps inside the nursery quietly, watching as you tuck the blanket around his son. When you look up, he’s standing there, holding two cups of steaming liquid.

“I, uh… thought you might want some tea,” he says, looking slightly awkward but endearing.

“Always.” You take the mug with a grateful smile. “How was your meeting?”

“Could’ve been an email,” He shrugs and stuffs the empty hand inside his pocket.

You grin as you take a sip, remembering how you’ve always enjoyed his dry sense of humor, in the rare occasions you hung out in the past. Ooh, this tea is… your favorite.

“Silver moon?” you asked.

He nodded, “There’s a TWG shop that just opened near the office. Namjoonie might have mentioned it was your favorite, so.”

Your ears warm up just as well as your throat as you savor another drink.

“How was Haneul? Did he give you a hard time?”

“Not at all,” you shake your head, looking over to the little angel. “I’ve had a lot of practice, you know.”

“I can’t imagine handling a whole classroom full of them,” he says, looking at you with a mix of admiration and amusement. “One’s hard enough.”

“You’re lucky to have him,” you reply wistfully, suddenly feeling a tug at your heartstrings. ‘What I would give…’ you almost utter out loud.

The thing is, you actually do, without realizing it. Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi files the thought away, a subject he might bring up one day—when the time comes that he thinks you trust him, too.

The days blur into a steady rhythm. You arrive in some afternoons, not really everyday, only when Yoongi needs the extra hand at home or if he needs to leave the house for a day of rehearsals. You both establish that this is merely a favor so he doesn’t treat you like you’re at his every beck and call. Usually it starts with a short message in Kakao, and if you’re free, he would send a car to pick you up. Your meals are always ready, delivered on the dot. Conveniences are always within your reach—your favorite tea, extra clothes in case there are food or poop blow-outs, etc. The cleaning lady that goes thrice a week, Mrs. Kwon sometimes keeps you company and assists you with anything.

As you help take care of his baby, you feel that he’s looked out for you, too. Which is nice.

On days that he is working from home, Yoongi brings his work into the living room, just to be nearby during playtime with you and Haneul. 

One evening, when his son falls asleep in your arms after a particularly fussy day, Yoongi glances up from his laptop and leans back in his chair, a tired but grateful smile breaking through.

“He’s really taken to you,” he observes, sounding almost as if he’s admitting it to himself.

You smile, feeling a strange warmth at his words. “I think he’s just a really sweet kid, Yoongi. He’s easy to love.”

The smile he gives you after that is probably the gummiest one you’ve ever seen. 

A few weeks pass, and a subtle partnership has started forming between you, like you’re both slowly finding a rhythm in the chaos of caring for Haneul.

Bath time becomes a kind of unspoken relay: you gather the towel and clothes, while Yoongi preps the tub, testing the water with careful fingers. There’s a brief exchange of glances—no need for words, just a nod as you pass off Haneul, who’s already giggling happily.

Snack time turns into a ritualized watch party. You set out the applesauce and crackers for Haneul, and Yoongi brings a bag of chips and his laptop over to the living room, joining you and Haneul for yet another episode of Miss Rachel. Occasionally, he’ll mutter a sarcastic comment under his breath, trying (and failing) to disguise the fact that he’s memorized the songs, too. (And in English, no less!)

There was one particular afternoon that you walk in on the father and son having a heartwarming exchange.

Haneul, who’s wobbling on his unsteady little legs, is reaching eagerly for a stuffed tiger Yoongi is holding just out of reach.

“Oh, no, no, no—you gotta work for this,” Yoongi teases, eyebrows raised dramatically. He moves the tiger side to side, adding a low, exaggerated growl that makes Haneul squeal with laughter. Yoongi leans fully into the act, growling and making faces, finally swooping Haneul up with a playful roar, both of them dissolving into laughter.

You can’t help but laugh along with them, your heart catching slightly at the sight. The way his eyes crinkle in genuine amusement, his mouth relaxed into a wide gummy grin. And you’re startled by how… soft he looks, how fucking attractive he is when he’s like this. When his usual quiet intensity is replaced by this playfulness, by this open warmth. It hits you somewhere deep, a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you can’t quite ignore.

Yoongi catches you watching, his smile faltering for a moment, but he holds your gaze. His expression shifts, something curious reflecting in his eyes as if he’s wondering what you’re thinking, but he doesn’t ask. Instead, he swallows a lump in his throat, cheeks dusting a faint pink as he looks down, bashful.

You force yourself to glance away, feeling warmth creep up your neck. For the first time, you’re struck by an awareness of him that wasn’t there before, and it lingers, even as you turn back to whatever it was you were supposed to be doing. The image of his smile, his laughter—it all stays with you, stirring something you can’t quite put a name to.

And just like that, you’re settling into this role in the life of the Min men—something you know is temporary, but is infinitely meaningful.

When you’re not in Yoongi’s apartment, your own place feels strangely foreign.

God, you hate it here. You can’t even bring yourself to call it home—it’s just a room with white walls, half-opened moving boxes, a stack of unread books Joonie gave you, a mattress on the floor, and a fridge with a single egg. It’s quiet. Too quiet. You could fix the place up—it’s not like you can’t afford a bed frame or groceries—but for some reason, you’re punishing yourself. Like this is the way someone like you—unwanted and rejected—ought to live.

Nothing in this flat tethers you to it, and maybe that’s why you prefer being out.

You’re afraid your heart is stuck somewhere in limbo, somewhere between Seoul and LA. Maybe it’s still floating above the clouds on that flight back. You don’t know when it’ll come down, but you hope it’s soon.

Tonight, you’re restless, tossing and turning in your makeshift bed, replaying fragments of your old life—a love that once felt solid, a future that had once felt certain. Your mind drifts to those last conversations with Jiyong, your ex, the ones where he shut down every hope you had for a family, making you wonder if wanting more was somehow wrong.

You probably deserve it, though. You want a family, but you can barely cook for yourself. What do you hope to feed a child—takeout? Junk food? It’s laughable. You can’t even make a home feel like one. Jiyong probably got tired of you because you’re useless at it.

Stop. You close your eyes, focus on your breathing, try to still your mind. 1, 2, 3…

Some nights, you especially hate yourself. Tonight is one of them.

You need to call Namjoon. He can usually talk you down, ease the self-loathing. You ring him three times, but each time, you get his voicemail. Fuck. Maybe he’s out, maybe he’s getting laid. Good for him, honestly.

But that might actually work. You rummage through one of your boxes and find the one purple bullet that’s gotten you through plenty of spirals. With a flick, the vibrator buzzes to life, and you slip it beneath your panties, pressing it right against your clit. You’re not in the mood to drag this out—you want release, quick and easy, something to take the edge off.

At first, your limbs relax as that familiar tingle begins, little sparks shooting from your core, teasing you with hints of pleasure. You keep at it, determined, but after a few minutes, the sensations stall. It’s like your body’s stuck, lingering on the edge without tipping over, leaving you stranded and more frustrated than when you started. You decide to cut your losses.

Maybe a shower. Maybe you can pop by the GS25 down the block for a bottle of soju.

But then your phone pings. It’s Yoongi.

Your tummy suddenly feels funny.

You immediately swipe up and read the string of messages that has popped on your Kakao.

Yoongi: Hey so I found this in Haneul’s crib Yoongi: image.jpg  Yoongi: u got this for him? he is lowkey obsessed. Yoongi: But WTF is it? 

You cackle. Loud and hearty. A sound you didn’t think you were capable of on a shitty night like this.

You: A capybara! Look it up! Yoongi: Oh Yoongi: never heard of it You: They’re cute Yoongi: ? You: Don't be mean You: Haneul and I love bora Yoongi: ?? You: thats her name Yoongi: noted

That night, the Kakao thread becomes your lifeline. Yoongi asks about your next visit, what you had for dinner, and when you say goodnight he sends back a grainy selca of him and a sleeping Haneul with Bora. The photo brings unexpected joy, something to remind you that you aren’t as alone as it sometimes feels. Finally, you succumb to slumber, clutching your phone to your chest, thoughts of Yoongi and Haneul floating in your dreams.

After that, you become more and more aware that Yoongi’s place has become a sanctuary. There’s Haneul’s bright laughter, the way his tiny fingers curl around yours, and the sound of Yoongi’s soft, steady voice, creating a background that somehow starts to feel comforting. With them, you’re too busy to dwell on the past or the ache left behind by someone else’s rejection. Instead, you’re present, stable.

And it’s in those moments—when you’re reading Haneul a story or soothing him to sleep—that you feel a glimmer of something you’d thought you’d lost: hope. The simple act of holding him, soothing him through his small struggles… It’s healing in a way you can’t quite put into words, as if this little boy is slowly fusing pieces of your heart you’d almost forgotten were broken.

And Yoongi—he’s part of it, too. His presence, his quiet strength, the way he’s trusted you with something so precious. 

You know this is just a phase, that this isn’t your life, but a part of you can’t help but imagine what it would be like if it were. To be here, day after day, with this little family that’s somehow found its way into your heart.

You’re still healing, still putting yourself back together, but this—this feels like the start of something you could believe in again.

What you couldn’t believe though was the email from your building administrator with an acknowledgment receipt for next quarter’s rent payment—all settled. You haven’t made the deposit yet, how come it’s saying it’s been paid for already?

You pace your room staring at the email from your phone as if it holds all the answers. 

What is happening? Who paid for this? You didn’t sign up for some sugar baby service… 

Wait. Something clicks in your brain. Suga. Baby.

Your first instinct is to call Namjoon, meddler extrordinaire. He picks up on the second ring, sounding annoyingly chipper.

“‘Sup, buttercup?” he asks.

“Don’t act cute, Joonie,” you warn. “Did you know about this?”

There’s a pause. “About what, exactly?”

“Yoongi,” you say, practically hissing his name. “He paid my rent, didn’t he? Three months’ worth. How did he even know where I live?”

Namjoon lets out a hum, his tone maddeningly calm. “Ah. That.”

“Yes. That. Care to explain?”

“Look,” Namjoon says, unbothered. “Yoongi asked, so I gave him your address. He said you refused his offer, but still he wanted to pay you back somehow.”

“But Joon! It’s too much—” You pause, scrambling for the right words. “How did he even get a hold of the landlord and settle all this without my knowledge?”

Namjoon chuckles, which only makes you more annoyed. “Yoongi hyung is an influential guy, you know. If he wants something, he’ll fuckin’ find a way. Just take it, okay? You’re helping him, he’s helping you. It’s fair.”

You huff, still not convinced. “It’s just… a lot, Joon. I don’t need anyone swooping in and paying my bills. And you could’ve at least warned me.”

“I get it. But you’re helping him with something really important. This is his way of saying thank you.”

You sink back into your chair, the irritation draining out of you. “Fine,” you mutter. “But if he pulls something like this again, I’m coming for your ass.”

Namjoon laughs. “Aishh. Why the hell is it my fault?”

“You’re a smart man. Figure it out.” You hang up.

You spend that afternoon at Yoongi's. He was in a rush, dashing out for some shoot as you arrive. You hear him return around seven, just as you're finishing putting Haneul to sleep. Once the baby is settled, you tiptoe out of the nursery with the baby monitor on hand, following the sounds of soft clinking and the rich aroma wafting from the kitchen.

“Hey, Yoongi,” you call out, stepping into view. “Haneul’s all tucked in. I was just gonna—”

“Stay for dinner?” Yoongi’s eyes light up, his voice gentle but hopeful as he turns, holding a pot in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. It looks like he came straight from his shoot, his hair still styled in soft, precise waves that swoop perfectly across his cheekbones. He’s wearing the softest, oversized yellow sweater layered over a crisp white shirt, and his jeans hug him just right. But it’s his smile that really draws you in—light radiates from him, his face glowing not just from a bit of skincare, but from something more.

Goddamn. The man is looking fine as hell.

You’d planned to meet up with Namjoon tonight, but one look at Yoongi—whose eyes are too shy to hold yours as he ladles red sauce into a ceramic bowl—and you know you are absolutely staying put. Joon will understand.

“Ok, yeah, that looks really good,” you say.

“It is.” Yoongi smirks, just barely, and gestures to the fridge. “I’ll plate this up if you can grab some drinks?”

You procure a couple of beers from the chiller and set them on the dining table, shooting off a quick text to Joon afterwards.

You: Hey, raincheck? Yoongi made dinner and it looks good ngl

His response is instant.

Namjoon: You blowing me off to play house with hyung. K. I see how it is.

This asshole.

You’re about to call and give him a piece of your mind when Yoongi’s voice pulls you back. “Everything okay?”

Your gaze shifts to the plates of spaghetti he’s just set down, the aroma working wonders to sway your thoughts. “Yeah, just Joon being a pain in my ass as usual.”

“Sit.” Yoongi gestures to your chair as he settles into his.

“Wait.” You grab the baby monitor from the kitchen counter, setting it between you and Yoongi. The screen shows Haneul fast asleep, Bora tucked securely under his arm.

“There. Now we can eat.”

Yoongi nods, and the two of you dig in.

It hits you that this is actually the first time the two of you have shared a quiet dinner together like this. You were expecting Yoongi to let the silence linger, but he starts a conversation mid-way.

“I, uh, was surprised to see you back here,” he says casually, twirling a forkful of pasta.

“Me too. It was… kind of abrupt.”

He nods, not pressing, just listening. You don’t think you’re ready to talk about that so you try a joke.

“Didn’t think you’d ever see the girl who carried your performance of Stan?” you add, smirking. “I basically launched your career.”

“Carried?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Nah, you were choking.”

“Hell no.”

“Uh-huh.” He laughs softly, shoulders bobbing. “Rewriting history….”

“Fine. I sucked. Joon totally went behind my back with that one. Not that he’s the only one who likes going behind my back,” you add pointedly, of course alluding to the matter of your paid-off rent.

Yoongi scratches the back of his neck, looking almost guilty. “Sorry for overstepping.”

“Just don’t start paying my utilities behind my back, too. Because—”

He shifts awkwardly, avoiding your gaze.

“Yoongi?”

He clears his throat. “Just your electricity. I… may have asked the landlord to include it this month.”

“Oh my god.”

“And water,” he adds quickly, eyes widening like a kid who just got caught.

“Add my Netflix subscription while you’re at it.”

“Done.”

“NO!!! You’re actually worse than Joonie,” you groan, though a smile quirks at your lips. “But, thank you:”

He nods, briefly pausing before he speaks up again, a little too flippantly. “So… you and Namjoonie—what’s the deal there?”

You blink, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, looking somewhere over your shoulder. “You know what we all think? That he’s playing some kind of long game with you.”

You wrinkle your nose, laughing. “Oh god, no. Y’all are waayyy off. Namjoon’s like my brother, that’s it.”

Yoongi nods slowly, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips as he watches you.

“Everyone thinks that, huh?” you ask, leaning in, a little bolder than usual.

“Mhmm.” Yoongi gives a slow nod, as he nibbles his lower lip.

“All the members?”

“Yeah,” he says, watching you carefully.

“Including you?”

He shrugs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, though something shifts in his expression, like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle he didn’t know existed.

“Interesting,” you murmur, swirling your glass.

“Why?” he narrows his eyes on you, wheels turning in his head.

Maybe it’s the beer loosening you up, bubbles lifting your usual filters. You’ve always been a lightweight.

“You never wondered why Joonie suddenly set you up for English tutoring with me—just you—even though your company had a professional hired to teach everyone?”

He blinks, eyes narrowing a bit more.

“Or why I ended up singing with you at that damn club?” You laugh, leaning back.

His lips mold into a small pout, processing, but you’re already laughing.

“Joonie’s been throwing me into your orbit, Yoongi,” you say, giggling, the alcohol hitting you hard now. “And you’re telling me you never noticed?”

He looks like he’s having a full conversation with himself, his mouth opening and closing like a stunned goldfish inside a gallon bottle. All he manages is an eloquent: “shit.”

“Well, for the record,” you pause, “I thought you were cute, but it was obvious you weren’t interested. Don’t worry, though,” you say lightly, glancing down on your almost empty plate. “I’m a big girl now. It’s all in the past.”

As you stab the last meatball, you miss the way Yoongi’s gaze softens.

You have no way of knowing what’s going through his head. But if you did, you would find that he’s thinking:

If he could go back in time, he’d kick his younger self straight in the balls for not noticing, and tell him to get his head out of his ass long enough to realize this one shocking truth: 

You were not Namjoon’s girl.

And he actually had a chance with you.

Because maybe you’re right. Back then everything was about the dream—y’know, big house, big cars, big rings, and all that shit. So yeah, maybe, he wasn’t ready then.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t now.

Notes: Oh-KKKAYYY!! How are we feeling? Anything you liked in particular in this chapter? Where is the baby mama? Do we even care atp?!

Part 2 is where things get more flirty, spicy, and all that good stuff.

Tell me your thoughts and theories. See you in the comments! <333

Thank you for reading, you lovely, beautiful, human 💕🫶🏼

You can sign up for my permanent taglist here so you can be notified when I post updates to this story and more.

Part Two >

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[itneverendshere]

maybe wheezie or even sarah needing rafe to pick them up from school or attend a back to school night. like the school calls rafe to pick up sarah after getting in a fight. or the teacher calls him in to discuss that wheezie struggling in math

thank you for the request!!! 🫶🏻🫂 i think rafe's always had a soft spot for wheezie so i did this one for her cause i personally can see their dynamic being really cute.

 we're both older now - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Sitting in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. His hands were on the wheel, jaw clenched just enough for you to notice, but not enough to freak out.

It’s been months since rehab, and you swear, you’ve never seen him like this before—so focused, so... responsible. It’s kinda hot.

But that’s not what you’re here for. Not right now.

You’re headed to Wheezie’s school because, apparently, she’s been struggling with math. She didn’t want to tell Rafe because Ward’s rarely at home these days and she didn’t want to bother him. When you found out, you could’ve smacked her. You get it—Rafe’s been under a lot of pressure lately—but you don’t think she realizes how much he cares about her. That’s why you two are heading to a parent-teacher meeting like it’s the most normal thing in the world. It’s not. 

“I should’ve known something was off,” Rafe mutters, breaking the silence.

You look over at him. “You couldn’t have. Wheezie’s good at keeping stuff to herself.”

He shakes his head, his grip tightening on the wheel just a little. “I’m her brother. I should’ve noticed.”

You reach over, resting your hand on his arm. “You’re doing your best, baby. That matters.”

He lets out a breath, his tension easing under your touch. God, sometimes it’s hard to believe he’s the same guy who used to pick fights at every chance he got just a few years ago. It’s been almost a year since his last relapse, but every day you see him fighting to be better—for himself, for you, for his sisters. And honestly? It does something to you, seeing him like this. 

You pull into the school parking lot, and he parks the truck, turning off the engine. For a second, he just sits there, staring straight ahead. You know what he’s thinking. He’s wondering if he’s good enough to handle this, to handle all of it.

“You got this,” You say softly.

Together, you walk into the school, and after a quick conversation with the receptionist, you’re led to Wheezie’s teacher’s classroom. The room smells like dry-erase markers and stress, the kind you remember from my own high school days.

Except, this is a private school, completely different from what you were used to, and back then, you loved school. You were good at it too—really good, actually. Straight A’s, honors, full ride to a decent college…but life had other plans.

You look at Rafe as you wait for the teacher to start the meeting. He’s sitting up straight, listening intently, and your chest tightens a little.

The same guy who used to blow off any responsibility now sitting here, laser-focused, ready to step up for his little sister. The teacher starts talking about Wheezie’s grades, how she’s been falling behind in math, and you can see the guilt in his face. You squeeze his knee under the table, trying to ground him, but honestly? This was hitting a little too close to home for you, too.

“I can help her,” You hear yourself say before you’ve even really thought about it. Rafe turns to look at you, surprised, and you shrug like it’s no big deal.

The teacher blinks, probably not expecting the girlfriend to jump in with a solution. “What did you score on your final exams?”

You move in your seat, not expecting the question but not exactly shy about your answer either. "I got a 1600 on my SATs," You said, trying to sound casual about it, even though you could see Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up next to you. 

The teacher’s eyes widen slightly. "That’s impressive," she says, "You must’ve had a lot of options for college."

You shrug again feeling that familiar feeling of bittersweet regret. "Yeah, I had a full ride to a few places.”

“And you didn’t go?”

The way she says says it—like she can’t imagine why you wouldn’t go—hurts a little. 

"Yeah, well... life happened." You try to brush it off like it doesn’t bother you.

Rafe’s hand slides over to yours under the table, interlocking your fingers and giving you a gentle squeeze. It’s subtle, but it’s enough for you. To remind you that you made the right choices, even if they weren’t easy ones.

The meeting wraps up pretty quickly after that.

The teacher gives Rafe some advice on how to help Wheezie stay on track, and you both thank her before heading out of the classroom. As you walk down the hallway, he stays quiet for a bit, and you can’t really read what’s going through his head.

By the time you get back to the truck, he turns to you, his brow furrowed slightly, like he’s still processing everything. "You got a perfect score on your SATs?"

Three years into the relationship and he’s still learning things about you every day.

You let out a small laugh, brushing some hair behind your ear. "Yeah. It’s not a big deal."

"That’s kinda insane," he says, looking at you like he’s seeing a whole new side of you. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that?”

You shrug for the millionth time today, suddenly feeling a little shy. “I don’t know. It just never came up. It’s not like it matters now, anyway.”

"It does matter." His voice is firm, and when you glance over, you can see how serious he looks. "You gave up a lot to help your sister. That’s not nothing."

Your throat tightens, and you have to swallow down the emotion rising inside you. The way Rafe says it, like he actually gets it, means more than he probably knows. "I just did what I had to do."

He nods slowly, like he understands that feeling all too well. "You didn’t have to offer to help Wheezie today. But you did.”

You don’t want to make a big deal out of it. "I want to help her. She deserves it."

Rafe doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with this soft, almost disbelieving expression. Like he can’t wrap his head around the fact that you’re still here, beside him, helping his family without a second thought.

"You’re amzing, y’know that?" he murmurs, his voice low and warm in that way that makes your stomach flip.

You feel your cheeks heat up, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "Stop."

"I mean it." He reaches over, cupping your face gently with his hand, thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. His eyes soften as they meet yours, filled with so much adoration it makes you want to hide. "I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m really fucking grateful."

You bite your lip, glancing down at his other hand on your knee before looking back up at him.

"You’ve been working hard. For yourself, for us. I see that."

His jaw tightens just slightly, and he looks down, almost like he’s not sure how to take the compliment. But when his eyes meet yours again,

"I’m trying," he says quietly. "I’m trying to be better."

"And you are," you whisper. "Every day."

The months of hard work, the late nights when you’ve held him through his doubts, the mornings when he’s shown up for his family even when it was hard. It’s all there, between you, unspoken but understood.

Rafe leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Thank you," he whispers. "For everything."

You close your eyes, letting the moment settle around you. "I’ll always be here," you whisper back. "We’ve got this."

“I don’t think I would’ve made it this far without you.”

You swallow hard, trying not to let it hit you too deep. But it does. Because for all the mess you’ve been through—his ups and downs, his relapse, his constant fight to be better—it always comes back to you. To this.

“I’ll always have your back,” You remind him quietly. “You know that, right?”

He nods, like there’s absolutely no doubt in his mind. “I know. You’re really good with her," he says after a beat. "With Wheezie. And with Milo."

You smile, leaning back in your seat. "Yeah, well, someone’s gotta look after the kids, right? Might as well be me."

Rafe’s lips twitch into another smile as he leans over, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, "Thank you, baby.”

“For what?”

“For sticking around,” he says, pulling back slightly to look at you. “Even when I didn’t make it easy.”

 “You make it worth it, Rafe. You always have.”

Because seeing him like this—happy, strong, responsible, and healthy—it’s more than just him trying. It’s him becoming the person you always believed he could be, from day one on that stupid country club. And that? That’s something you’d stick around for any day.

When you and Rafe pull up to Tannyhill, the sun’s already setting. You grab your bag from the backseat, and he takes a deep breath, his hand hovering near yours like he needs to hold onto you just for a second longer. When you step into the house, you’re greeted by the usual stillness that fills the place. It’s huge, but it always feels too quiet.

Wheezie’s sitting at the kitchen island, hunched over her phone, clearly trying to distract herself. Her leg’s bouncing nervously under the stool, and you don’t even have to say anything to know that she’s been dreading this moment.

As soon as she sees the two of you, she freezes, eyes wide, "Hey," she greets, her voice shaky.

Rafe glances at you, and you give him a small nod. You know he’s trying to figure out how to handle this—he’s never really had to play the role of ‘responsible older brother’ before. But he’s doing it. He’s trying. And that’s what matters.

"Wheeze," Rafe starts, as he walks over to her, and you can see the panic rising in her eyes as she sits up straighter like she’s preparing for the worst. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

She bites her lip, glancing between the two of you. "I-I didn’t want to bother you," she mumbles, her voice small. "You’ve been dealing with a lot, and I thought— I don’t know. I thought I could handle it on my own."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s quiet for a second, and you can feel Wheezie’s anxiety practically buzzing out of her. She’s probably expecting him to yell, to go off on her, but instead, he takes a step forward and pulls her into a hug.

"You ever keep something like that from me again," he mutters into her hair, his tone firm but warm, "and you’re grounded."

Wheezie’s eyes go wide in shock, like she wasn’t expecting that at all. Her arms wrap around him a little awkwardly, but you can tell she’s relieved. She pulls back after a second, staring up at him with those big brown eyes of hers. "You’re not mad?"

Rafe shakes his head, but his expression is serious. "I’m not mad. I’m worried, Wheeze. I’m here, okay? I got you."

"I’m sorry," she whispers.

He sighs again, rubbing a hand over his face before looking at her. "Don’t be sorry. Just don’t do it again."

She nods quickly, and you step closer, offering her a small smile. "You’re not in trouble, Wheezie. I’m gonna help you with the math stuff, okay? I promise."

Wheezie looks over at you, clearly surprised, and then back at Rafe. "You’re… really not mad?"

Rafe rolls his eyes but in that big-brother way that’s full of affection.

"No, Wheeze, I’m not mad. But next time you’re struggling with something, tell me. That’s what I’m here for."

She nods, relief washing over her features. "Okay. I will."

Rafe reaches out and ruffles her hair, something so casual and brotherly it makes your heart swell.

"Good. Now go do whatever you do, and remember—grounded if you pull that shit again."

You slap his arm, “Will stop cursing in front of her?”

He shoots you a half-smirk, looking completely unbothered. "Please baby, she’s sixteen. You think she doesn’t curse?"

Wheezie lets out a small laugh, covering her mouth as if she’s trying to keep it together, but you can tell she’s relieved. 

"Yeah, but maybe not in front of her big brother," you tease, raising an eyebrow at him.

Rafe shrugs, looking like he couldn’t care less. "If she’s smart enough to hide it from me, more power to her."

Wheezie giggles again, and you can’t help but smile. "Yeah, yeah," you sigh, rolling your eyes at him playfully. "You’re a great role model, Rafe Cameron."

He groans, “Please don’t use the full name.” The corners of his mouth tug up in a grin that makes your heart skip. “Alright, no more big brother lectures tonight. We’re good, yeah, Wheeze?”

Wheezie nods, still smiling. “Yeah, we’re good.”

[giannaln4]

Silly Little Bet

lando norris x artist!reader

summary: You were an artist and Lando loved to do what you did best with you, even if he wasn't very good at it. (917 words)

warnings: this turns into a make out (not heavy, very short), use of y/n

a/n: hi lovelies! i know i said i was going to take a little break, but honestly i just need to not think about quali today (still crying about it idk what to tell you). anyway, this is incredibly short so i’m sorry but i still hope you enjoy it! pls let me know what you think!! feedback is very much appreciated 🫶🏻 i also wanted to thank everyone who reached out to me and sent support ❤️‍🩹 ily all so much, i really appreciate it!!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

Quiet nights were your absolute favourites. Getting to spend time with your boyfriend without having to worry about some schedule one of you had to stick to was perfect, to say the least. You always found a way to occupy yourselves, doing anything and nothing at the same time. 

Tonight, though, you got to do one of your favourite activities: art. You were an artist, a professional one, and of course he loved that about you; he loved seeing you in your element, so focused on what you did best, and even though he didn’t know yet, you loved dragging him with you so you could see him struggle a bit to at least not be the worst artist the world has ever seen.

Now, he was extremely talented, and if he weren’t a racer, he would be somewhat of an artist; he’s said it himself many times, but that was before he met you, because compared to you, he would never say that about himself, no matter how many times you have said it to him. 

Right now, you found yourselves sitting on your shared bed, facing each other, trying to win a silly little bet you made earlier. It was simple, really. You were supposed to draw the other person, and whoever loses would have to come up with a plan for dinner, which the both of you already knew would end up being a homemade meal, eating it on the couch, and watching some dumb show. This really worked out for him because, as talented as he was, he still struggled to draw real people, and he knew he was setting himself up when he accepted.

You knew that too, and you also knew he only gave in so he could have another one of your drawings of him. But that was okay, because another one of your favourite things was to admire his focused expression while he tried to replicate someone on a blank piece of paper. 

If he was being completely honest, the top reason he loved doing some type of art with you was because you would always come up to him and help with something, holding and guiding his hand or just being really close to his face as you explained something, so he would never say no to that suggestion.

“Okay, so I do you and you do me. Do I have to paint it as well?” He asked as you poured some of your art supplies on the bed.

“No, just a quick sketch,” you replied, scanning the bed as you carefully chose the pencil you wanted to use. “I’m starving, anyway.”

You started sketching each other; you were faster (and probably better) than him, but you couldn’t help but blush any time his eyes fixated on your face for too long, studying every aspect of you to try to draw it. After several minutes, you were done, just finishing up a few details before placing the paper on the bedside table next to you, away from him so he wouldn’t see it yet.

“How is it going?” You asked.

He looked up at you and yelled, “Don’t move!” When you started to get up.

"Sorry,” you whispered, going back to your previous position.

You stayed like that for a while, watching as Lando looked at you repeatedly and then back at the paper, occasionally erasing stuff. He was almost done, but there was one thing holding him back. “I can’t get it right,” he sighed, dropping the pencil.

“What can’t you get right?”

“Your lips. They look too big or too small, and now the paper looks worn out from erasing so much.” He was clearly frustrated.

“Can I see it?”

“Promise you won’t laugh?” Lando asked you with an embarrassed look.

“Of course I’m not going to laugh; why would I do that?”

“You are a real artist, Y/N. You finished a while ago, and I’ve been stuck here trying to fix it, but I’ve only made it worse.”

“Lando, you are actually talented; I don’t make you do art with me because I wanna have a laugh. C’mon, show me.”

He sighed again and slowly turned the paper, showing you the drawing. “It looks terrible.”

Your eyes set on the paper, and an endeared smile appeared on your face. “It looks great, baby.”

"No, it doesn’t; as I said, you’re an artist, and you know exactly what’s wrong with it.”

“I mean it." You whispered, leaving your spot on the bed and sitting next to him, “Maybe the proportions are a bit off, but it does look great, I promise.”

“Thanks,” he replied with a smile, a moment of silence filling the room as you both stared at the drawing. “You know, maybe I just need to take a closer look at them.”

“Oh- I guess that would be helpful." You turned your body to face him, cupping his cheek and brushing away a few curls that rested on his forehead. “Do you want help?”

He nodded and broke the distance between you, locking his lips with yours as he pulled you onto his lap and his hands fell on your hips to intensify the kiss. You got closer and closer, pausing when your bodies couldn’t possibly get any closer to each other even if you tried.

“You know I can actually help you,” you said against his lips and in between kisses.

“Uh huh” Lando replied, not really thinking about the drawing anymore.

[nerdy-novelist017]

Omg hi!!!🧚🏻‍♀️

I just wanted to pop by and tell you how much I LOVE your writing and content, makes me kick my feet reading about Benny and Bunny😫🙂‍↔️I was just wondering if mayhaps you’d write something in which Bunny gets mad at Benny for something and gives him the cold shoulder hehe. You mentioned in your most recent installment of them how she’s done that when pissed at him and I just thought it’d be so interesting to see an upset Bunny and groveling Benny😏perhaps involving the topic of jealousy or miscommunication. Have a good day/evening and feel free to ignore my yapping!!!🙈🐇

Thank you so much for your kind words! 🥹You're so sweet!!! I could never ignore your yapping, friend! Sorry this took so long to post but I wanted to get it right since this request is so stinking cute! I was going to break this up into two parts because I got a little carried away but I figured you guys probably don't mind the longer posts ;) Please let me know your thoughts on this as I love reading your comments! Hope you enjoy! 🫶

Benny x Bunny Masterlist 🐰

Word Count- 3.4k+

Love, Lids, and Lessons (Benny Cross X Shy!Reader)

Listen, Benny fucked up on a near daily basis. He’s by no means perfect and there was a lot that you overlook because you loved him and he���s still the best man you’d ever met. However, there were times where Benny pissed you off so bad that you simply couldn't excuse him. This happened to be one of those times.

You were standing beside him at the pool table during what happened to be a pretty intense moment of a game that Benny happened to be losing pretty badly. It was the third time you’d approached him, asking to leave. It wasn’t even that late but you had wanted to go because you planned to get up early the next morning to meet your girlfriends for a breakfast date. He’d told you that the two of you could leave soon, after he finished his beer. And then he told you after he finished his game. Then that game became the next game. And the current game which he happened to be losing and maybe it was that his temper with the razzing he was receiving from the members who watched the game but he just didn’t want to have to tell you one more time that you would both be leaving soon. You tugged on his sleeve again and he just said it, without a filter, without thinking. 

“Bunny, you’re being naggy.” 

That was it. Just four words that would cause him more trouble than he even realized. He didn’t mean it in a rude way; He was just trying to tell you what you were doing was annoying to him. He said way worse than that to the boys and they never reacted the way you did. 

Your mouth dropped open in shock, driven speechless by his words. He made a shrugging motion to you that said What? But the low whistled that emitted from Cal on the other side of the pool table did nothing to deescalate the embarrassment he could see bubbling in your face. You snapped your mouth shut, brows pinching together as you glanced at the others who heard. Not many, just Cal, Johnny, Betty and a few others. It was enough. When your gaze found him again there was an undeniable dark cloud in your eyes and he wanted to apologize. But you turned and walked away before he could say anything else. 

“Oh, Benny. . .” Johnny muttered with a grimace but Benny was too caught up in the taunting of the other members around the table to hear him. So he let you storm off, figuring you’d have cooled down by the time his game was over. And shortly after, his game ended (He lost, though he didn’t really find himself caring about that, not with the image of your hurt expression looping in his mind) and he said goodbye to the boys and went to find you. Only . . . you were gone. 

He found Gail who told him you had left with Kathy. He clenched his jaw and nodded. You rarely ever left with someone else, you liked to ride home with Benny. He thought maybe you were just tired and Kathy was probably leaving at the same time but a little voice in the back of his head told him it was more to it than that. He tried to ignore the way the ride home was quiet without you on the back. And when he walked through the door, you were not in the entryway where you normally stood waiting for him. No, you weren’t even in the kitchen where he’d sometimes find you during a midnight craving. Something uncomfortable gripped at his heart and he stood in the kitchen for a long time, trying to come to terms with the fact that you probably left. 

Trudging up the stairs to your bedroom, his heart skipped a beat when he saw your form laying in the bed, back facing him. He resisted the urge to go to you, sensing the way your shoulders stiffened that you were still awake. He undressed slowly, taking the time to decide what he wanted to say to you. But even as he pulled back the covers and crawled in next to you, no words ever formed in his mouth. Instead, he tried a different tactic. He pressed himself up against your body, sliding his hand over your waist, traveling it up to your breast as he leaned in to kiss your cheek.

You brushed his hand away. “I’m not in the mood, Benny.”

His hand moved down to your hips instead to take it in another direction but you gripped his wrist and moved it back to his side. “I’m serious. I’m tired”

Okay, you were upset about what he’d said. He sighed and rolled onto his back, moving back to his side of the bed. He waited a few more seconds to see if you’d follow him like you normally did, but you remained steadfast in your spot so he reached over to the bedside lamp and switched it off, the room filling with darkness. He laid in that darkness for a long time, contemplating what to say, what to do. 

When Benny woke the next morning and his hand drifted over to you, he found your side of the bed empty. He frowned, glancing at the clock. It was still early and you almost never woke up before he did. And if you did, you just wanted to snuggle with him in bed. With an odd feeling in the pit of his gut, he got up and dressed, seeking you out. He found you in the kitchen, wearing an apron with little flowers embroidered on the fabric. You stood at the island, frosting cupcakes that he didn’t know you planned on taking with you. 

“Mornin’,” he said as he approached, making his way over to make a cup of coffee. You only hummed in response. He turned back around to face you, leaning against the opposite countertop, feeling as though the space between you was as wide as an ocean. He watched you for a moment as you set down the cupcake you were working on, the delicate desert now freshly adorned with baby pink frosting. You reached forward to start on the next one and that’s when he spoke again. “You need help with that?” 

“No,” you replied, avoiding eye-contact. A heavy silence filled the kitchen as he sipped meekly at his coffee and you finished frosting the cupcakes. It’d be better to just rip off the band-aid, he decided. He wasn’t going to go his whole day pretending he didn’t know that you were giving him your traditional cold-shoulder response. So he said, “You still mad about last night?”

Your eyes flashed up to his for just a moment. “What do you think, Benny?” 

“About what I said? C’mon . . .” He didn’t even mean it in a rude way! Sometimes you were so sensitive and he truly didn’t understand you. Johnny had told him once that women were a completely different creature than them. And as Benny watched you furiously frost your cupcakes, he really felt the impact of that statement.  “I didn’t mean it. You know that. I was a little drunk and–”

“Oh you were drunk?” Your voice dripped with sarcasm. “Well, in that case, I’ll just let you get away with whatever you want when you’re drunk. Won’t let anything affect me at all!”

Hmm. He didn’t think that’s what you were gonna say to that. Benny hated it when you verbally put him in a corner like this, didn’t let him get away with his half-assed apologies that never actually use the phrase ‘I’m sorry.’ It always made him get defensive, made his temper flare and he’d end up doing more damage than good nearly every time.

“You were naggin’ and you know it. I don’t know if it was because you wanted to go home or if you were jealous that someone else had my attention for a moment and you didn’t–”

“Jealous?” The word echoed off the cupboards. “Are you kidding me?”

“Bunny–” he groaned but you cut him off. 

“Don’t Bunny me right now,” you griped, eyes narrowing as you began placing the cupcakes in the portable carrier he had surprised you with for your birthday a few months ago. “Jealous? You honestly think I was jealous? Or are you just sayin’ that because you want to get a rise out of me?”

“Well, I’m just tryin to say–” he stopped short as he caught your sharp gaze. “I just. . . Don’t you think you’re overreacting about this?”

Your mouth formed a thin line, jaw clenching. You stared at him for a few agonizingly long moments before you shook your head, muttering, “You–” 

Benny was dying to know what you were about to say but only observed as you removed your apron, folded it neatly and placed it back in the drawer before you grabbed your portable tray and left the kitchen. Like a moth to flame, he followed you as you went to the door, pausing only to slide your feet into the kitten heels you had lined up at the baseboard. Without saying another word, you opened the door and left. But he trailed after you, standing on the porch, he wordlessly watched as you descended the stairs and walked down the stone pathway to the white picket fencing you had always talked about and opened the little gate. 

“Damn thing,” you grumbled under your breath as you fought with the broken hinge of the gate to close it properly behind you, the sound squeaking obnoxiously. 

“When are you comin’ back?” he hollered after you, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“Later.” Was your vague answer before you got into your car and left Benny still standing on the porch, front door ajar and eyes narrowed. 

******

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Benny stood to his full height and took a step back to take in the shiny new hinge on the gate he just installed. He tried opening and closing it a few times, admiring the way it worked soundlessly. Good as new, he thought. Fixing physical things like door hinges and motorcycle parts, those were easy. Benny was good with his hands, he could tinker around and fix just about anything he set his mind to. But fixing emotional things. . . those were not so easy for Benny. Apologies were rare and he’s never one to throw them out like confetti as you so often did. You apologized too much and he’s told you that you shouldn’t apologize for half the things you do. 

He’d had a lot of time to think about what happened and his mood certainly shifted more than once during his front gate project. At first, mild annoyance because what he said to you was hardly an insult. Then, it might have been due to the sun beating down on him while he worked, but genuine anger replaced the annoyance because you were so damn sensitive and there were times he felt he had to walk on eggshells around you. But the anger quickly fizzled out when he thought about how your sensitivity was what made you special. It was what helped you be so empathetic, so caring toward everyone you came across. And by the time he’d finished fixing the gate, the only feeling that smothered him was a painfully present regret. Regret for what he had said, but also for what he hadn’t. An apology was something you deserved, but he didn’t give it to you, not in an appropriate way. 

So when you came home, hours later, he watched from the living room window as your car pulled in front of the house. You exited the car, and he almost held his breath as you opened the gate, taking a moment to open and close it a few times. You definitely noticed he’d fixed it. Good, but that didn’t mean he was in the clear yet.

You came inside and it was clear that you were still upset by the way you moved. He could see your shoulder stiffen when you noticed him there, could see the pouty lip of yours pull into a slight frown. You hardly spoke to each other the rest of the day. You didn’t mention the gate and he didn’t bring it up. 

******

The next morning Benny was up before you, as usual. At least that was back to normal. He went downstairs and started a pot of coffee as he got ready for work. He grabbed his lunchbox, preparing to make himself a lunch for work when he stopped short, noticing that there was already a lunch packed in there, complete with one of your pink-frosted cupcakes. His heart squeezed at the realization that you still packed him a lunch, something you did every workday for him, even though you were upset with him. You . . . the sweet creature that he still didn’t completely understand. And he needed to do something.

Fortunately Benny had another trick up his sleeve, and playing dirty didn’t matter to him when it came to getting your attention again. 

******

You didn’t sleep well last night, laying awake all night with a heartsick frown, wishing nothing more than for the man who lay just within an arm's reach from you to actually comfort you – in a way that you wanted to be comforted. And tears threatened to spill when you realized, even just for a moment, you wished he could be someone who was a bit more empathetic, a bit more compatible to you. This wasn’t the worst thing he’s said and you’ve had your fights over much worse, but in all your time together, this was the first time you’d ever had that thought. Maybe it was because this was the first time you had both ignored it, both choosing to go to bed angry and upset rather than to work through it. The storm in your heart still surged on, albeit a bit more due to sadness rather than anger, as you slipped on your babydoll pink robe over your nightgown. You tried not to think about Benny at all as you put your hair up in rollers and applied your makeup for the day. You couldn’t hide in the bedroom all day unfortunately, so you traipsed downstairs, bare feet padding softly against each step until you entered the kitchen where you found Benny sitting at one of the island chairs, the daily paper spread out on the countertop before him. 

He looked up when he heard you. “Mornin’.”

“Morning,” you parroted as you went to the pantry to grab out your ingredients to start breakfast. You started your tea, grabbing the jar of honey off the shelf and a flower mug. You turned your back to Benny and started to twist the lid off the honey jar . . . only it was really stuck on there. Readjusting your hands, you gave it another go, but still it didn’t budge. Setting your jaw in place, you glanced over your shoulder at your husband who was still looking down at his newspaper. Normally, you would immediately hand something over to Benny to open for you, but you were still mad at him which meant you’ll have to go without honey in your tea. 

So instead you started making your bagel for breakfast, a go-to breakfast meal for workday mornings. Popping the bagel in the toaster, you took the homemade strawberry jam out of the fridge and frowned when you realized that lid was also screwed on extra tight too. You turned to face your partner, reluctantly asking, “Can you open this?”

He looked up at you, eyes glancing down at the jam jar and he held out his hand. “I’ll open it for you if you talk to me.”

In no mood to play his games, you rolled your eyes. “Forget it. I can do it myself.”

You turned back around, feeling his gaze burning into you as you grabbed a dish rag and placed it over the lid to get a better grip. You twisted hard, tongue darting out between your teeth as you concentrated on opening it. It seemed as though a mutant with superhuman strength had sealed this lid last – which was strange considering you were the only person in the house who ever used it. You peaked back at Benny who watched you blatantly so you stuck your chin out defiantly as you put the jar back down on the countertop. Fine, you’d just put peanut butter on your bagel instead. You scooped up the peanut butter jar, this time facing him as you twisted the lid and you nearly screamed in frustration when you felt how tightly this lid was as well. 

Wordlessly, he held out his hand across the countertop, waiting patiently as you crossed your arms, mentally debating if you could go without any of these items on your bagel.

Ding! You both glanced over as your perfectly-browned bagel popped up from the toaster. You sighed through your nose, biting your bottom lip as defeat settled in. You grabbed the jam, honey and peanut butter jars and slid them on the countertop before him. 

“Okay, fine,” you admittedly softly and watched as he made it look so effortless as he opened the lid with a satisfying pop. You muttered a quick thanks and reached for the jar but he leaned backwards, holding the jar just out of your reach. 

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he spoke, eyes earnestly searching your face. “What I said at the bar – about you askin’ to go home. You weren’t being naggy, I should have listened to you the first time. That was my own fault. I was just getting so caught up in that stupid game and it wasn’t even important. Not like you are. And what I said embarrassed you and that was wrong.” He rose from his seat, moving around the counter to stand before you as he said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

Your eyes widened slightly at his apology. Only a handful of times have you heard those words leave his mouth and you knew he never said them if he wasn’t completely meaningful. You nodded but then remembered his use of vocabulary last night. “And what you said about me bein’ jealous?”

His shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “I’m not apologizin’ for that because you really do confuse me sometimes, Bunny. I thought maybe you were jealous and when you stop communication’ with me, I feel even more lost than usual.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” you accepted as you crossed your arms. “But I don’t want to talk to you when I’m upset. Maybe I want you to do the talking for once.”

He furrowed his brow in thought as he looked over at the toaster. “Well, why don’t we make a promise to each other that we can go to bed angry if we want, but come morning, we talk about it over breakfast. No more putting it off for multiple days. We have to deal with it so that we can move past it.”

You considered that for a moment. “Yeah, that sounds alright.”

He took your hands in his own and dipped forward to place a soft kiss to your cheek. When he began to pull back, your hand flew up to gently encase the side of his face, holding him there as you met him halfway and kissed his lips in a physical show to prove you had accepted his apology. And if that wasn’t good enough, you whispered against his lips, “I forgive you.”

His arms circled around your waist pulling you into his lean frame in a tight hug that seemed to melt away all the stress that built between you two. 

“How did you know that I would use the honey today?” you asked with a tilt of your head, figuring he must be the reason for the right lids. 

“I didn’t. I tightened all the jars.”

“Benny!” you laughed, playfully slapping his bicep. 

He lowered his hands behind your hips, lifting you quickly onto the kitchen countertop, grinning at the squeal you let out at the sudden shift. 

“Let me make it up to you, Bunny? Please?” he begged, voice teasing but you could see the sincerity, the desperation in his ocean blue eyes.

“I’m gonna be late for work,” you giggled as he buried his face into the spot between your jaw and collarbone, that sweet spot he knew got you weak in the knees every time he placed his mouth there. “I need to leave in a few minutes.”

“You might wanna call in sick then,” he murmured against your skin as he kissed up your neck, “‘Cuz I got plans for you that’s gonna last longer than a few minutes.”

-Tag List-

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[ashwhowrites]

Hi, Can you do a Steve harrington x freak!reader where the reader has always liked him since he was king Steve but then he embarrassed them so they avoided him ever since until either season 3 or 4, where Steve is trying to win them back with the help of Eddie, their best friend. Happy ending please!!! Thank you!!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Soft spot

Y/N knew liking Steve was a horrible idea, but she fell anyway. She liked him before he became King Steve, and unfortunately liked him during that phase.

He did not feel the same. Instead, he publicly embarrassed her. Even though it happened years ago, she could still feel the burn of embarrassment. And the fact she never got an apology from him might have been a factor as to why she can't get over it.

Then he graduated and she didn't have to relive it. She kept clear of him around town, not wanting him to find something else he disliked about her. She was doing a damn great job at it, until Eddie.

Eddie and Y/N were best friends and ran hellfire together. One thing that started their friendship was their dislike for Steve. And now? Eddie and Steve somehow became friends, and it pissed Y/N off.

She was hurt and betrayed that Eddie would be friends with him, but Eddie kept preaching that Steve was different. But how was Eddie so sure? What if he changed back within a second. She still had a soft for Steve and knew that part of her would win. That meant she was going to fight as much as she could.

As for Steve, he never forgot about her once he graduated. She was out of sight and in his mind, her name always rang a bell.

She was talking with Eddie, her smile so wide and beautiful. Steve couldn't help but stare in awe as she looked memorizing doing something so simple. Then her eyes moved to his, and he froze. He gulped as her eyes went into slits before she looked back at Eddie. Steve almost felt jealous of her soft eyes when she looked at Eddie. He wanted her to look at him like that too.

After Eddie bid her goodbye, he walked over to Steve.

"Ready to go?" Eddie asked, clueless to Steve's personal battle.

"Uh yeah, but quick question," Steve said, Eddie turned his head to listen. "How do I get Y/N to like me?"

~~~

Eddie warned Steve it would be a long ride to get Y/N to forgive him, and he was okay with that.

Y/N worked at the arcade, and Steve happily drove Dustin and the gang to play. As they went wild, he made his way over to the counter. She was leaning over the counter, looking bored as he walked up. But once she saw him, she stood tall.

"Hi, Y/N right?" Steve asked, already throwing on his charming smile

"That's what the name tag says," She said, sass on her tongue. Steve looked down at her chest, her name tag clear as day.

"Right," Steve said, rubbing his jaw as he tried to figure out what to say next. "Look, I'll just cut to the chase-"

"No need to, I'm not interested in anything you have to say," she said cutting him off. She smirked, loving that she got to embarrass him instead.

"That's fair, but please?" He tried. She tried to look away from his desperate brown eyes.

"Please? King Steve begs now?" Y/N asked, her smirk growing more and more.

"I'm not King Steve anymore. I grew up and left that stupid ego behind." Steve said, his voice serious. "I want to apologize and maybe start over?"

Y/N felt her heart race, but she couldn't get sucked in by his charm and puppy eyes. "Why all of a sudden? Because you and Eddie are friends? Just because you two are friends, does not mean we need to be friends."

"I've never seen you around, but you are now and I want to fix this." He said as he pointed between them.

"You mean never noticed me around," Y/N snapped, "and nothing to fix because I'm not interested in ever talking to you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." She walked out from behind the counter and took off.

Steve sighed, not happy with how that interaction went.

~~~

Eddie and Y/N talked about the next campaign as they walked to his van. The night was chilly as it was nearly eight pm. Y/N sighed as Steve's car was parked next to them, Dustin in the front seat.

"Hi, again," Steve said with a smile, leaning slightly out of his window.

Y/N rolled her eyes and got into the van, slamming the door shut before he could speak again.

Eddie shrugged his shoulders with a slight smile. He secretly enjoyed the treatment she gave Steve.

~~~

Y/N sighed as Eddie dragged her through the party. Sometimes she hated how much she loved Eddie and agreed to do anything for him.

"Deal will be like an hour tops, then we'll leave," Eddie promised. Y/N sighed louder but kept walking. Eddie found a table outside and took her a seat, Y/N left to grab them a drink.

She walked into the crowded kitchen and filled up two cups with some type of liquor she didn't even know.

"Need a hand?" Steve's voice came from behind her. His mouth was right in her ear, his breath made her shiver.

She turned around, sighing as she prepared to deal with him again.

"Nope, I'm all good," she said, preparing to leave but he softly grabbed her arm to stop her. He yanked her so her body was against his. She was so close that she smelled his cologne and the beer on his breath. His skin glowed under the dim lights, and she tried not to memorize the freckles and moles on his face.

"You aren't leaving until we talk," he demanded. Y/N tried to stand her ground, tried to act like his touch, his voice, and his body had no control over her.

"I told you I don't want to talk," she snapped, but her body didn't move.

"Fine, then listen." He said, moving his grip down to her hand as he walked her into the nearest room with a door.

He closed the door behind him, now both in a random bedroom.

"I'm meant to be here with Eddie," Y/N said, one last attempt to leave but he didn't move away from the door.

"Eddie will be fine for two seconds," Steve mumbled. Y/N placed the drinks on the nightstand and crossed her arms.

"What do you want from me, Steve? Why can't you leave me alone?" She asked

"I'm sorry for what I did in high school. I'm sorry I said those things about you in front of a crowd. You never deserved that. I was a dick and too prideful to admit I was wrong, but I'm not anymore." He began to walk towards her, "I'm not him anymore. I've changed, but the one thing that never changed was my feelings for you."

Y/N froze as the last words fell from his lips. He was now right in front of her, soft doe eyes staring into hers.

She broke the eye contact, licking her lips as she cleared her throat. She looked around the room before she looked at him again.

"Munson told me all about your suspicion and that you don't believe that I've changed. But I can prove it to you if you give me the chance." He spoke softly and quietly.

"What feelings?" she whispered, her voice cracked as her throat dried up. She felt nervous under his strong gaze.

"I've had feelings for you for years. I know I fucked up my chance the first time. Being popular was too important and I forced myself to pick Nancy. I tried so hard to make her you," she gulped as his left hand cupped her cheek. His thumb rubbed her cheek, and she hated that she felt herself melting into it. "No one could be you."

Y/N collected herself and pushed him off.

"That doesn't make sense!" She argued, her skin was growing hot. "You have these huge feelings for me? I put myself out there for you! I asked you to the dance and you rejected me way crueler than I could have imagined. Now that you lost your title and realized you peaked in high school, now you want me? Now I'm safe to go after? You haven't changed. You are still shallow and selfish." Her words didn't deflect Steve. Her angry body was toe to toe with him, she breathed heavily but all he could focus on was how close her lips were to his.

"I can't change the past, Y/N. If I could, I would in a second. But please at least give us a chance. What if we could be really good together? I know you still have feelings for me. Here's another chance for both of us to see where these feelings can take us."

"How the fuck do you know what I feel? You don't know me."

"You wouldn't have spent years hating me if you didn't still want me." He said a smug look on his face that she wanted to smack off. "You wouldn't still be standing here, trying to deny me if you didn't like me. It would have been easy to leave me here, but it's hard isn't it? A part of you wants me to suffer, which I understand and deserve. But what does the other part of you say?"

She bit her tongue as she thought. She knew everything he said was right. Her pride wants to leave him in this bedroom alone. But he followed his pride and it left him hurt. If she followed her pride, wouldn't she have the same outcome?

"The other part," she started, holding herself in her arms, "doesn't want to let you go for a second time." She admitted she looked down at their shoes. She could feel water in her eyes but she tried to keep it back. "I already know what life is like hating you," she looked up. He was hanging on to every word, his lips parted as he waited. "And my stupid heart wants to know what it's like to love you." A tear slipped and she wiped it away before it fell. "I hate that I want you."

She sniffled, and Steve quickly held her face in his hands. He leaned his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as he felt her breath hitting his lips.

"Let me heal you. I can fix this for us." He promised. She closed her eyes as more tears fell. "I'm sorry, so sorry."

Before she could say anything, she felt lips against hers. She sighed at how soft his lips felt, but how strong the kiss was. It made her breathless. She tangled her hands in his hair as she let herself go. She'd wanted this since she was sixteen, she needed to go for it.

Kissing Steve was better than she ever dreamed. His hands moved down to her waist, pushing her further against him. The kiss grew hot and heavy as they desperately clung to each other.

Y/N would always have that soft spot for Steve.

[russellsppttemplates]

Straight from the heart (Lando Norris)

It takes a bad race for Lando to notice how much he has neglected your relationship, and he can only hope he can fix it

Note: english is not my first language. I was fighting the other piece I was writing so I jumped to this one and I did something a little bit different (* cough cough * longer) and see how it goes! I'm not sure how good this is (or how much you will want to kill me), but I promise this has a happy ending!! 🥹🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: relationship struggles, curse words

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

The result on the screen was not the one you hoped. Lando had a wonderful race, but a mixture of bad strategy calls, dark rain clouds appearing on the sky with only a couple of laps left to finish the race and the wrong tire compound made him lose a good number of places, cars overtaking him in the last seven laps.

"Is the race over?", you mother asked as she stepped inside the living room, carrying the curtains she had left out to dry and proceeding to hang them back in their place.

"Yes, just now", your father said as he adjusted the volume on the TV, "let me help you, darling", he offered, getting up and standing beside your mum in case she got out of balance.

"Are you going to call Lando?", your mother asked once her squinty eyes read the position he had finished in. Even though the prescription glasses were on the table, she insisted she didn't want any mishaps after she accidentally dropped her last pair while she was gardening and one of your younger cousins found a rusty frame a couple of months later when he was over.

"I'm not, I don't think - he's flying back tonight and the timezone is so different, I don't want to bother him", you blurted defensively, making up excuses as you went along with your answer, "he's doing the interviews, and I'm sure the debrief will be long and torturous - he will need his rest to fly back", you stated as you got up, "I have to check on the project I handed in on Friday, the professor said he would post the grades around this time and if we want to appel, we have to do it right away - I'll be in my bedroom".

The subject was an open wound that stung everytime you so much heard a mention of it, let one having to seem completely okay with it when it ripped through your heart.

The calendar on your wall is full of stickers, both with notes, urgent matters and things you couldn't forget. It's the last stretch, you tell yourself, one more week and then it's done and you'll have a well deserved break.

A knock on your door catches your attention as you reply with the allowance to let whoever is on the other side in, "is something wrong?", you asked. Lately, the negative side of your mind was the first one to speak.

"That's what I want to ask you - that conversation we just had downstairs was not your usual self", she sighed as she pointed to the living room, "I've noticed you haven't mentioned him much, but I don't want to intrude or offer my help because I know you don't like meddling", your mother looked for your eyes before you could fully focus on the wooden floor.

"Things have been rough between us lately", you sighed, "Lando is keeping me at a distance, and I don't know the reason why, mum", you shrugged, "I don't know if it's because I've known him all my life and the comparison is so profound, but it seems he only cares about racing and his friends, and I'm nowhere in the mix. We rarely call eachother, no texting - I know the triple headers are intense, but all I got from him were reactions to my stories and a little video from Max where he's in it and said something to me", you recalled, "I can't be the only one making an effort, can I? Either he realised where this is going and we catch it while we can, or I don't know where this is going, I don't know where we're going".

Your mother's heart broke as she saw you allow the tears you had held on to fall freely, your sleeves bunched up on your hands to wipe them, "and have you talked about this? A long, grown-up and serious conversation?", she mused.

"We have barely been with eachother, mum!", you whispered shakily as more tears got caught on your throat.

"Couples go through phases, darling - do you think me and your father was all smooth sailing?", she tried to get you to smile as she brushed your hair while she hugged you, "you need to talk to eachother, seriously and let it all out, nothing is off limits because that's how you'll get to where you need to".

You kept your head on your mother's chest, accepting her comforting hold despite being an adult. A mother's hold was truly the best.

You hoped she was right and this was something that would pass. A rough patch that you and Lando would work through a look back on with a sense of accomplishment.

This wasn't how you and Lando end, is it?

.

Max and Lando headed for the plane as soon as they left the race track, having made prior arrangements to had their luggage there waiting for them once they arrived. Max was the first to sit down and get himself comfortable on the seat, texting his girlfriend to let her know they were leaving.

"Y/N hasn't called or even texted me, nothing", Lando mumbled, "didn't she watch the race? Doesn't she know that I need her?".

Max weighed in the good and the bad that his next few words could do. He could either be honest and encourage his best friend to finally come to his senses, or keep covering the lie and perpetuate the suffering and miscommunications.

"This is not how I wanted to do this - truth be told, I never wanted to have to do it", Max rambled off.

Lando was quick to notice that there was more to it than just this instance, "you know something - she's my girlfriend, Max, if something is happening, I deserve to know", he said in an antsy tone.

"Are you really so blind to it? Have you not noticed it yet? Damn it, Lando, I've been on your side, trying to clean it up and now I'm questioning it", Max declared as Lando only grew more confused.

"What am I missing Max?", Lando snapped, even catching his own self off guard at the reaction he had.

"Mate, think about the last couple of months and whether or not you have been a good boyfriend, or even the boyfriend Y/N deserves", Max offered.

Lando wasn't expecting that answer or point of view.

The last couple of months roll through his memory as if he's watching a movie and when he tries to select the moments he spent with you, he finds himself struggling to gather any at all. He can't remember any of the times you spent together, and considering his memory isn't that bad, it could only mean those moments didn't even happen. Thinking about it, he can remember the last time he held you in his arms, just the two of you.

"Fuck!", Lando shouted, punching the arm rest.

"Glad you figured that one out almost all on your own", Max tsked, "do you really think you deserve any interaction from Y/N? Thought so", Max muttered. He didn't like the situation his friends found themselves in, and he certainly didn't feel any joy in the words he told Lando, but the truth wasn't always easy to hear.

"Seems Y/N doesn't think so either", Lando mumbled, "do you know anything? Has she told you anything?".

He wasn't sure he deserved to know, but he needed to.

"The last time I spoke to her she didn't say anything - you know how Y/N doesn't want to bother anyone with her things and getting information from her is harder than solving the world's problems -, but P and her talk here and there", Max reasoned, "she obviously won't tell me all the details but from what I can tell, Y/N has really taken a toll because of this, P is always quite upset whenever it comes up", Max offered. Quite upset wouldn't cover it, so much so that, unbeknownst to Lando, the last couple of time Max's girlfriend couldn't join them for their plans was an orchestrated excuse from her to avoid being in the same room as the McLaren driver.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!", Lando groaned into his hands, "how could I not realise this was happening?".

"You want the honest, blunt truth?", Max asked and Lando nodded, "I know it's your job, but lately, it's all been about racing, and I think you've neglected Y/N ", Max offered.

McLaren had a one hundred and eighty degree turn lately. From struggling to get their cars in the points, the team had managed to turn things around to the point where P5 and P8 was considered a bad weekend for them.

With the new signings, Quadrant had grown exponentially and it had naturally drawn him to spend more time on it, and it seemed to have alienated everyone in his life that wasn't directly a part of those.

It wasn't intentional, but it didn't mean that it didn't hurt. And by the looks of it, the person Lando loved and cared about most was also the one he hurt the most.

They both sat in silence as the British drive thought about all of it. Things got so good that he didn't look back, he worked his hardest and gave every piece of himself to the cause and the new territory he was paving. Being on the podium was a common feature for him, and the race win was there, up for grabs and he wanted it. Yet, he had been dazzled by it and had let himself fly higher, his characteristic "both head and feet on the ground" posture no longer present and resulting in a degree of neglection for the things and people thay mattered to him.have always been important to me.

"How did I push away the most important person in my life and I'm just now realizing this?", Lando asked, not really expecting an answer, but rather to let out all the frustration that boiled inside him, anger soon following at his late realisation, "what's worse is that I've only come to realise this because you had to tell me - stupid, stupid, stupid".

"I don't know what you want me to tell you, mate, and frankly there isn't much I can, but look on the bright side: now you have a chance to fix it", Max tries to comfort Lando.

"What if it's too late? What if Y/N doesn't want to be with me anymore?", Lando voicesd his deepest fear. What if the anger had finally got to you and you wanted to call it quits?

"Wouldn't you be able to understand that? I don't think that is the case - I've never seen two people who love eachtoher more than you two, it's as disgusting as it it lovely most times. And even though she might feel angry or hurt, I believe she has it in her to forgive you", Max states.

"I hope you're right", Lando sighed as he tapped his phone, his finger hovering over your contact.

"I wouldn't do that", Max chirped, "you should rest before diving into anything about that topic, and today has had too many emotions as it is. Tomorrow is a new day for you to think about it", he advised.

With his head on the headrest, Lando went over everything that occupied his mind, allowing the heavy sinking feeling to settle in. To a degree, he deserved the discomfort he felt. Shame, guilt, frustration, remorse, embarrassment, overwhelm, sadness.

What if he had destroyed the thing that made him the happiest? If I managed to single out the person who loved him for him?

.

Lan 🧡

Hello. You were probably expecting a text or a call, but the last few days haven't been easy and I needed to ground myself a little. We really need to talk, Y/N. Do you think we can grab lunch today?

It irritated you how quick your heart was beating the minute you saw who sent you the text after you submitted all the projects that you had left. Battling an inner fight of whether or not you should answer it, you decided to so it. Rip the band-aid off, Y/N.

To Lan 🧡

Hello... We do urgently need to talk. I'm on my own today - where do you want to go?

Your tone was cold and unusual when you compared it to the older messages, filled with hearts and the pet names you had for eachother.

We can go to that café by the marina, the one with the paninis you really like.

Yes, we'll meet here at one pm.

Do you want me to pick you up?

No, I'll walk.

Your sunglasses are good enough to hide the nervous gloom on them as you walked to the marina. There is no script or guideline to go about this lunch other than honesty and finally admitting everything you were feeling. It could go either way and, truth be told, you believed it would go down the way it was supposed to.

Stepping on the wooden path to the small café's outside area, you looked for the boy whose arms were where you used to feel safe.

Lando chose a table that overlooked the water, the warm sun shinning and bringing out the blue of it. It would be a big conversation, and while the café wasn't crowded, he never knew how things could pan out so he went for the most demure spot.

When you take a proper look at him, it surprises you. His eyes are not shiny like they usually are - there's a dark hue surrounding them along with sadness.

"Hey", you utter out to grab his attention.

The moment he faces you, you feel naked despite the summery dress you have on. All vulnerabilities exposed for the person who knows you best and who can read you like the back of his hand.

"Hello, hi", Lando cleared his throat, "how have you been?".

Setting your bag on the chair, you shrugged, not ready to engage in casual chit chat.

"Do you already know what you are having?", he wondered.

"The italian panini and iced tea", you mumbled after looking at the menu he handed you, "have you ordered yet?", you mused before calling the waiter to do so.

The silence between you after the waiter left the table was painful and hard to digest. You avoided looking at his colourful eyes - once you did it, breaking down would be in an instant.

"We really need to talk, Y/N", Lando says.

"Do you want to go first? Or shall I?", you asked bitterly, accepting his silence.

The waiter comes back with your orders. The café doesn't have a big menu and it's mostly empty, so the service was quick, "I hope you enjoy it - Bon appétit!", he interrupted the tension filled moment.

"I recognise I need to apologize to you for all the things I did without realizing it an-", Lando was cut off by you.

"Let me stop you there before this derails", you stated, "I'm here to have a serious, grown up conversation, so I'm not going to sit here and listen to dusty and beaten up childish excuses".

If the ground could sink him into it, Lando would've accepted it gladly.

"It's a start that you have realised that something was wrong, but you can't excuse yourself like that, Lando. Not when this situation has taken proportions that you can't fanthom - you can't get away with being sorry for not noticing what you were causing", you argued.

Lando gave you a nod, "I'm still not sure about all the things that led us to this point and what it entails, and that's why I wanted you here. I don't want to be blind to it anymore - I want to get all of it so all the pieces make sense in my head. You probably won't believe it, Y/N, but I'm so lost in this. I feel like I've lived a parallel universe for the past couple of months", Lando added all in one go.

"When did your feet come back to the ground?", you mused, "when did you feel like maybe things weren't the way they should be?". The curiosity was killing you, and the answer could very well do the last stab.

"When I lost all of those places in the race", Lando gulped, "I expected you to call and to hear your comforting words, and they never came. Max was the one to bring my mind to the matter", he admitted and you could see he was the opposite of proud of his own actions, "How I've been the worst boyfriend in the world and how I deserved that you didn't call - hell, I'm not even sure if I deserve that you're here today and willing to listen to what I have to say".

It's difficult to maintain a tough appearance and pretend that his words don't affect you, but alas, you keep your armour on.

"That afternoon was a struggle for me, Lando. I wanted nothing more than to call you and hear your voice, silence your cornerns and negative thoughts, let you know that you're the best driver out there and that a bad race doesn't define you. That it wasn't your fault and that you shouldn't beat yourself up because of it, that I was still so proud of you and how you handled things and that nothing could keep me from shouting to the rooftops. But you didn't deserve it, my dignity has been punched by your actions day in day out for the past couple of months and I couldn't take it anymore".

"I need you to hear things from your side, I need to know your perspective so I can understand what I did wrong and if I'm able to fix it still", Lando asks desperately.

"We should start from the beggining then", you laced your hands on top of the table after taking a bite of your panini, "I think it was at the end of the last season - at the time it didn't seem like it, but looking at it now, it was the start. I even took some time off and travelled with you so we could enjoy your break, then I came back for university. It's never easy, I know, but up until then we never had any issues with it - even if it was a bloody run, we made time for eachother. Then, you barely texted, let alone call - but all relationships hit rough patches and I thought that it was ours. Then Christmas came around and we finally felt like us again, there were no work or uni commitments, and it was bliss. After that, life happened again and I couldn't find a way to spend time with you - there was always a Quadrant video to film or a meeting or some event. You, Max and Martin went to Bali, and despite the fact that I didn't have any exams and could easily do university stuff remotely - like I do everytime - you didn't even think to ask me if I wanted to go or if I had planned something for us in the first place. I just took it for granted that you would spend it with me, but when P showed me the photos I looked like a fool and an ungrateful friend and girlfriend because I stayed back, Lando. I never felt so humiliated. Max had his girlfriend and you didn't, you ignored me as if I didn't matter to you", you breathed out. Ruminating was one thing, talking about it out loud was another. The latter angered you less and hurt more.

"I'm sorry", Lando murmured and you were quick to shoot it down.

"I don't need you to apologize now, Lando. What I needed was for you to make a decision then, one that considered me and what I wanted", you sighed, wiping a stubborn tear that got out, "after that, I just watched you pull further and further away, and I tried to get closer, work things out, but you wouldn't let me in. You floated and floated and I stayed here, both feet glued to the ground as I watched you go higher and higher. You were never like this, letting things get to your head wasn't something you ever did, but it happened. You alienated me in such a way that for this triple header, I didn't hear your voice once unless it was from the TV or the McLaren social media. You only wanted to call when you needed comfort, and it hurts that it took Max to help you see things the way they are", you state as tears fell uncontrollably down your cheeks.

Apart from your earlier bite, both wooden serving boards look full and no one made a move to go further.

"You told me time and time again that you would always be there for me, but when I was the one needing a cuddle and reassuring words, I was all alone in my bedroom, crying because of you. When you said you'd be there for me, I guess you failed to account for the fact that you can't protect me from yourself.. Because what hurt me these past couple of months was you", you declared, sniffling and, finally, looking into Lando's swollen and tear-filled eyes.

The tears Lando has been holding back fell. He was angry with himself, at how he had done the one thing he promise not to do to you. He made you hurt, he was the reason you were in pain and he couldn't keep you from feeling it.

"I wish I could tell you there was a reason behind it and that it all has some justification, but there isn't and I can't lie to you. I was propelled from the results and the promise that this could be our year - my year - and everything else faded away. I know it's not any help, but I'm not proud of what I did, and definitely not proud of the way I made you hurt - I wish I could turn back time and do it differently", Lando confessed.

"I needed you, Lando", she bit back.

Lando couldn't find any words after that and once you began eating the now cold panini, he followed your movements, granting you the quietest meal you ever shared with him. Lando was playful, loud, cheery and giggly on any other day. As much as it nagged you that your words were the ones to dim that light, you had to put yourself first. Someone had to.

"Can we walk along the marina?", Lando asked once you finished eating, earning your nod to his surprise.

You both get up, Lando paying for your meal at the front before you left the establishment. You walked along, looking at the luxurious boats and yachts before you found a part of the wall that you was comfortable enough to sit on, remaining in silence as you watched a couple of people unlock their yachts and sailing away.

Lando wanted to say something, to prove to you that he was sorry and that he still loves you more than anything, but the fear of saying the wrong thing and hurting you even deeper was not something he wanted to risk.

"You're going to break up with me, aren't you?", Lando voiced the biggest worry on his mind since he left his apartment.

"I walked here, so I had time to think about all of this, and all I could think was that I was going to meet you there, be reminded of all the pain you made me feel, and then we wouldn't see a solution to this. And on my way here, it got harder because I passed by the shop where we always go for croissants, and then that park where I tripped and you carried me home because of my bruised knee even though I could walk just fine, the bench where that lady asked if Mila was our daughter when your brother visited. And when I arrived at the café and saw you, I knew there was no way I could do it", you half smiled.

"I struggled to see what was happening, and I didn't see what was clearly in front of me, and I know I can't undo all of the crap that I've made", Lando pointed out, "but I can say that I love you, Y/N. I love you even more than when I asked you to be my girlfriend, which I never thought was possible, but everyday I love you a little bit more. I know I won't be able to love anyone the way I love you and, honestly, I'm not sure who I am without you, because I've turned into a person I don't recognise anymore and I'm afraid that if I don't have you around, this is the real me, and I don't like it. You make me a better person - since day one! I'll love you forever, but I also understand that you don't need this pressure in your life and that you want us to be over. I deserve that", Lando mumbled.

As much as the idea of not being with you hurt him, he knew it didn't equate to the pain he caused you hence why he deserved it if you dumped him.

"You're making it so hard", your groaned rubbing your temples, "It would have been so much easier if you had told me that you didn't care about this, that you didn't care about me anymore".

"That's never going to happen, Y/N", Lando assured you.

"It would be so much easier if I told you to fuck yourself off, wouldn't it?", you chuckled and Lando got to see a small glimpse of the world's best smile, "but I can't do it - I do think, though, that we need to take some time, for both of us to work on our own things", you suggested.

"I get it, you can have all the time and space you need, Y/N", Lando nodded, "would it be too much to ask if I asked you for another shot?", he wondered as you quirked an eyebrow, "I know you just asked me for some time, and I'll give it to you, but I'm not going to let you entertain the thought that I don't care about you or that I don't love you any longer. I'm still the same person you met all those years ago and I want to remind you why you fell in love with me in the first place - if that's even the case", he blurted, "please".

"Slow steps, okay?", you mused with a small small.

"Is it still the case?", Lando picked up where he left off, "are you still in love with me?".

"If I wasn't in love with you and if I didn't love you, trust me, I wouldn't be here", you smiled, squeezing his hand in yours on top of the warm stone.

.

Over the last couple of days, you felt lighter. University was finally over for the semester and you could rest, and the whole situation with Lando was better. Even though it hurt to tell him all of those things and see his reaction, and even if Lando still had a lot to make up for, you had to admit you didn't expect to feel like this right away. The right path was being trailed and you couldn't feel more at peace with it.

So far, he kept his respectful distance, which didn't mean that you didn't know he was there. Two days after you met him in the marina, Lando sent you a bunch of flowers to your doorstep, your mother being the one to bring them up to your bedroom since she was arriving from work as the delivery man was about to knock on the door, smirking when she saw who it was from.

You were getting ready to go out for a picnic with Lando. The sunny day invited you to go out and Lando seemed to think the same, sending you a quick text with the location and plan ideas.

"Where are you off to?", your mother asked as she noticed you looking for your hat, "you look very nice, dear".

"Lando invited me for a picnic", you offered her a smile despite the butterfly feeling on your tummy.

"I'm glad you're working things out, Y/N - I know how much you care about him. And even if he hurt you, he's doing the work to get you back - a lot of men would just give up, but not Lando", your mother nudged. She always liked him despite her initial concerns when he moved up the racing ladder and the toll it would take on you. For a brief moment, she was upset that she had been right, but she never lost the hope that the young man dating her daughter would fight for them and for her. For you.

"I'm not sure how long I'll be out, but if I'm not home for dinner, don't worry too much", you added, waving at her before closing the door.

You drove yourself to the park, politely declining Lando's offer to pick you up. As you followed the directions, you spotted Lando under one of the trees, seemingly battling with the corner of the picnic blanket.

"Hey, need help with that?", you called as you approached him, noticing his flustered face at getting caught.

"Hey! It's fine, it's fine", he dusted off his shorts, "I didn't fold the corner properly, never mind iron this", he grumbled.

"We're going to sit on it, I don't think we needed it ironed", you smiled, setting your small backpack on the blanket and occupying the space that wasn't covered with glass containers and pape bags, noticing the logo of your favourite bakery and the sweets shop near Lando's apartment.

"So, I baked these - who knew my oven works, hm?", he joked as he pulled out some granola bars that smelled delicious, "Jon did give me the recipe, but I made them! He says they don't have any harmful raw ingredients in them so there's no danger if they're not cooked properly".

"You could've told me to bring something too", you sighed, "you had all this trouble and I'm just going to sit here and eat it", you reasoned.

"I think we've gathered that I deserve all this trouble, even though I didn't mind doing it - I think I finally get it when people say they find baking relaxing, even if I just threw some oats and syrup on a bowl with nuts and chocolate", Lando shrugged.

You smiled at his antics, "this looks lovely, Lan - thank you", before you grabbed a paper napkin to grab the food.

Lando's heart did a little backflip at the pet name - when he thought about it, he can't remember the last time you called him anything other than his name.

He wiped the thought away as he noticed you get one of the paper bags, "It was no trouble, but I did have to make sure the lady at the pastry shop knew I was the next in line because there was this lady, you should've seen her, she was, like, eighty? I don't know, maybe more than that, and she was very posh and very proper and she was trying to cut in line! Then she started saying something in French and I was like 'no can do, madam! I need to get these croissants for my girlfri- for Y/N because they're her favourites' - I bet she wanted to get them first but I did!", he dramatised the scene, earning your loud laugh. How much he missed that sound.

"Seems like it was a little troublesome, though", you teased. Inside your chest, your heart beat fast at his efforts.

"You're worth it", he smiled before taking a bite of the granola bar, "not to toot my own horn, but for someone who eats pre-prepared meals, this is amazing! Try these!", he offered, forming a shell with his hand before he brought it up to your mouth.

For anyone else, this would be just another set of cute behaviours, but for you, it carried a sense of intimacy you hadn't felt in a while. Taking a bite of it and chewing, you had to admit the balance of the nutty taste and the chocolate was on point, "it is good, Lan! You should make granola bars more often - might even make a side business out of it!", you smiled.

"Charles has some ice-cream, there's alcohol from the other guys too - me? Granola bars", he smiled, eating the rest of it and looking at you. He would never be stupid again. He would never take you for granted. Never ever.

The conversation flowed once you started eating, mainly pointing out the new swings in the park or the pretty blooms that were showing up, and even though you weren't acting like you would had it not happened, it was comfortable and Lando had definitely put some effort into this.

"Thank you for this, Lando", you smiled after you helped him clean up the supplies, making sure he wouldn't have any spills and trouble taking the rest home.

"It's alright, really", Lando mumbled as blood rushed to his cheeks, "it wasn't much, but I wanted to make sure you remembered I'm still in and that I love you more than anything", he smiled, closing the basket and getting up with it to walk back to the car, "which actually brings me to an invite I want to make you", he went back to mumbling again.

The invite was a risk, he knew it. After all, it was the reason that got your relationship here in the first place. Yet, he wanted you there and he thought it would be good. Adding to it, it would be the way that he could make sure he was able to see you as it would be a busy day.

"What is it?", you asked as you walked with him.

"The day after tomorrow, we're going karting - Max and P are coming over for a few days, they arrive tomorrow - and I was wondering if you wanted to join us", he invited, "I know it's not the best environment to be in given al-", he started rambling.

"I'd love to go, Lando", you assured, touching his arm confortingly, "I might need a ride though, if you don't mind doing the detour", you pointed out.

"It's fine, of course we'll pick you up!", he smiled, happy and excited at your answer.

"That's me", you nodded to your mother's car, unlocking it with the key, "thank you so much for this, Lan, I appreciate it a lot", you smiled, raising your stance so you could kiss his cheek, "will you text me the details when you know, please?".

"Yes! Absolutely!", he gave you a big smile again, "until then, Y/N!", he waved.

As Lando walked back to his car, there was an extra spring up on his step, a new found energy and a smile that insisted on not disappearing from his lips.

Little by little, he was slowly getting you back.

.

"Why are we going this way?", Max asked as Lando took the first exit on the roundabout, "isn't the track that way?".

Lando couldn't contain his smile, "we're going to pick Y/N up first".

Max and Pietra exchanged a look before rhe blonde woman spoke up, "you finally came to your senses?".

"P!", Max scolded.

"It's alright, Max - she's not wrong", Lando added, "but yes, I have, and I'm working on it, respecting her but making sure she knows how much I regret it, how sorry and how bad I feel that it happened and how I'm trying my hardest to make sure it does happen again", Lando turned around once he stopped at the red light, "Thank you for looking after her when I didn't, P. I know you have been a good friend to her, so thank you for that", he added.

"She didn't deserve what you did to her, but I'm happy you figured it out and that you're working on it - I don't say it too often, but if you two ever broke up, I would consider that true love isn't a thing, what you two have is something else entirely", she smiled.

"Excuse me?!", Max dramatised, "what did you just say?".

"Did I lie, Max? Who was it that came home in a nervous fit without any fingernails because they bit all of them off after Lando realised what happened? The same person who couldn't even sleep because of it? Who was it, hm?", she quesioned her boyfriend.

Lando chuckled at his friends, thinking that they really had been made for one another, "you two make me look like the sanest person inside this car", he shook his head, pressing the pedal and turning into your street.

There you were, the person he was sure was made for him too. Your outfit was simple, consisting of black jeans, black trainers, a shirt sleeve polo and a cardigan on your arm.

"Hi guys!", you greeted, getting inside the car and kissing Pietra's cheek before putting your seatbelt on.

"Why don't I get a kiss?", Max pouted.

"Because you stink, that's why", Lando chirped in, "all ready to go back there?", he mused, sending you a wink from the rear view mirror.

Blushing, you nodded before looking at Pietra again, accepting her hand in yours as she gave it a squeeze. For the whole drive to the track, you engaged light conversation, mainly listening to the plans they had for the clips they were filming before they raced eachother since you and P would happily drive around in the karts just to pass the time.

For the first segment, you stayed on the stands, watching the team get the equipment ready.

"How have you been, Y/N?", Pietra asked as she handed you a bottle of water she had gone to her and taking a sip of her own.

"I've been well - university is finally done with and I can actually have a thought that doesn't involve it", you giggled, "and Lando is home", you offered.

"Now, I wasn't going to be so blunt, but that is the subject I wanted to get at", she raised her eyebrows playfully.

"He's... Goodness, he's Lando again, my Lando", you sighed happily, "surely, it still stings a little and we need to work through our issues, but we're trailing our way through them. Learning our ways together - it's a bit like falling in love again and it's such a good feeling", you blushed at your admission, "it's doing us well and we're going with it, and not out of it", you smiled.

"Y/N", Pietra cooed, "you have no idea how make that makes me! It's so good to see you so happy and hopeful", she squeezed your arm, "I was ready to avenge you on him, by the way, Max did us both a favour in telling him, because I was sure what I wanted to do to Lando was considered a crime and I'm a good person", she raised her hands defensively.

Once the boys were done, Max waved at you to come down and meet them, giving them the time to get your equipment ready.

"Come here, I need to make sure you don't fly out of your kart this time", Max called his girlfriend after she was fully equipped to go on the single seater.

You finished the makeshift hairstyle before you looked for the helmet, finding it in Lando's hands, "come here, big head, I'll help you put it on", he smiled.

As you approached him, you could see his sudden nervousness at having you so close to him, hands setting the helmet on top of your head and then pulling in on, "Look who's talking", you mumbled quickly before it was all the way in, his fingers gingerly touching your neck as he did the strap buckle.

"All good for our speed daredevils?", Max joked, getting an instant slap from Pietra before he got up.

"Does it feel safe, Y/N?", Lando checked with you, making you wiggle a little to make sure you were strapped tightly enough, making you flash his two thumbs up.

"Ready, set, go!", Max yelled before you and Pietra went off, happily driving on the track despite not extracting the full potential out of the kart.

"You and Y/N seem well", Max offered as him and Lando took a break before they joined you back at the track.

"I don't think I'll ever stop feeling this guilt on my chest, it's like a weird weight that sits here and gets heavy every now and again", Lando explained, "but I think we're going in the right direction, and I'm going to spend every day of our lives making sure it never happens again. Y/N will never doubt my love or affection for her. I just want to make her happy now that she knows I know how much I screwed us up".

"I'm proud of you, man", Max tapped his back.

"You're what?", Lando asked, a little flustered at his bestfriends words.

"I'm proud of you, Lando - you're dealing with this in such a good way! I'm not saying I doubted you would, but seeing you actually do it and make it happen in such a grown up, loving and accountability filled way makes me proud of who you became. As much as I joke about it, what P said in the car was true - you and Y/N are it. Whenever I think about what endgame is, you two are the first thing that comes to mind", he admitted.

"Thanks, mate", Lando replied earnestly.

After a couple of laps from you, you saw the boys joining you in the track, making you assure that whenever they lapped you, you made a Mario Kart like noise, always managing to get a smile and a headshake from Lando and Max.

Once you were done, Max and Pietra volunteered to take all of the supplies back to the storage room.

"Did you enjoy your day, Y/N?", Lando asked as he approached you.

Surprising him, you nodded before you hugged him, "I haven't been this happy in a long time", you cuddled him, letting your head rest on his chest and letting yourself feel enveloped by his arms after the initial shock wore off.

"I'm glad", Lando uttered out before he composed himself, "I just want you to know that I could fulfill all your dreams and that there I'll never do anything to hurt you again. I'm well aware of all shit I've done and put you through, and how accountable I am for it. I just want to make you happy", he chuckled, "I don't want anything else in this world other than to make you happy, to show you how much I love you and that I want make this work, I want to make us work", he let out in such a serious and intense tone that you could feel a knot forming your throat, "you were my first love and I want you to be my last, Y/N".

"Lan...", you gasped softly, "I know it hasn't been good for you, but I just need a little bit more time to put it behind me, once for all", you added.

"I know, and that's alright", he mumbled against the top of your head, "I just wanted you to know that it is coming straight from my heart - everything I do, I do it for you", plucking up the courage to press a kiss there.

You closed your eyes and basked in the feeling, "two Bryan Adams references in the same sentence from the guy who used to DJ? You impress me, Lando Norris", you giggled and teased him playfully, feeling the rubble from his own laugh on his chest.

"I'll make sure to impress you everyday that we're alive, Y/N Y/L/N", he promised.

And he intended to keep it.

.

Lando invited you to his apartment for a cosy night in, thinking the plans over and over while he waited for you to arrive.

The delivery service was faster than he expected so he wrapped the takeout boxes in all of the kitchen towells he had so they would help retain the heat while you weren't there yet.

The whole apartment was tidy, he had your favourite blanket on the sofa and the TV had your favourite shows ready to stream in the background as you hopefully shared a comforting meal.

Your acceptance to come to his place made Lando feel very pleased with the way you were trailing in your relationship. He had been able to correct his mistakes and make you happy again. Even though there had been moments where he seemed to forget, he now knew that you had always been and will always be a priority in his life. He had never been in love with anyone else, and he was sure he would always be in love with you until his last breath.

A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts, heading up to the door to open it, "Hello hello! Come in", he gestured as you stepped inside, pecking his lips on the way - a few days prior, you had kissed him out of nowhere when you went to the bookshop and you swore he looked like a cartoon, all wide eyes and blushy cheeks.

Lando assured you you wouldn't leave the house and it would be just the two of you, so you hadn't bothered to put together a proper outfit, opting to wear a pair of leggings and an old Quadrant hoodie.

"I wasn't sure if I should bring anything, so I stopped by the sweets shop to get some of these hard candies, apparently they're very trendy now", you giggled sweetly as you set the bag on his hands so you could take your trainers off.

"You didn't have to, but thanks! We'll do a taste test after dinner - which is here by the way", he guided you to the living room.

Unravelling the mountain of kitchen towells, he had you sit down before he opened the containers, handing you a plate after you chose a bit of each of the dishes he ordered, "thank you, Lan", you smiled, sitting criss-cross on the sofa and waiting for him to do the same before you started eating.

"These are really good, have you tried them? They're new on their menu and when the guy explained it to me, I thought you'd like it", he pointed to one of the bite sized pieces.

"They are! They're not too heavy on the seasoning and they're really nice when you dip them in this sauce - try it!", you offered him the small cup.

"Is this going to be like the time you made me dip my spring rolls in that other sauce you claimed was the best thing in the world?", he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just try it, Lan!", you insisted, getting one from your plate, dipping it in the sauce and taking it up to Lando's mouth, your hand under the chopsticks in case some of it fell on his clothes.

Lando chewed it before nodding and humming in satisfaction, "is it good", he admitted with a smile after he wiped his lips.

Once you finished eating, you helped Lando bring everything back to the kitchen, saving the leftovers on his fridge, washing the plates and putting them away.

"You didn't have to help, I could've done it myself", Lando nudged before he laced your hand in his and pulled you back to the living room, "do you want to watch something?", he asked.

"There's this new Disney movie I haven't watched if you're up for it - or any of the shows we usually watch, I'm not picky", you answered quickly.

"Disney it is", he smiled sitting down and resting his arm on the back of the sofa, hoping you'd sit next to him and cuddle him.

You shuffled around before grabbing the fluffy blanket, pulling it over your legs and tentatively closing the distance between you, taking the plunge and taking a spot on his chest.

Once the movie was playing, Lando's arm dropped to wrap around you, lulling you closer to him and rubbing your arm.

"I can hear you thinking, and I'm sure you're not thinking about that little goat", you nodded to the screen.

"I'm watching the movie, I swear - and he's quite funny actually! He's also Mila's favourite character, at least he was last week", Lando chuckled, "but I was also thinking about us", he admitted.

"You were?", you turned to look up at him, wanting to know more.

"You do know I will apologize for what I did until the end of our lives, don't you?", Lando reflected out loud.

"Lando, stop it, it's forgiven and forgotten", you offered.

"Is it really?", he asked, a small smile breaking his way into his lips.

"It is, it's behind us now", you kissed his clothed chest.

"I will never forget it, though. It doesn't matter how many times you tell me to forget it or that you've forgiven me", he let out a shaky sigh, "I don't think I will, I hate myself for what did to you, the hurt that I caused you".

"Lando, let's not talk about it right now - not now, not ever. It's a part of our story, yes, and we learned from it, but I don't want to to remember every day. We are good now, and I don't want you to torture yourself with something that is out of your reach and that you can't change", you told him sternly, now sitting back against the sofa so you can face your boyfriend, "Promise me we won't mention this again, Lando".

"You're right", Lando agrees, "Okay, you're right, I promise, Y/N", he stated with a smile.

Your delicate lips peck his quickly before you go in for a second kiss, longer and more intense this time, and you both got lost in eachother.

You couldn't change what happened, but you could learn from it and work everyday to make sure it never happened again.

Lando was crazy about you, about who he was when was with you and how you made him feel, and you felt the same way about him.

"I love you, Lando", you smiled after you pulled away, resting your forehead in his.

"I love you forever, Y/N", he whispered, sealing his promise with a peck and bracing himself, "I'm never taking you for granted, and maybe this is a big gesture and I'm not sure how much this fits our new way - new patch? It's not a patch if we want it to last forever, right? - anyway, I would like to ask you to move in with me", Lando stated, "it doesn't have to be tomorrow or right away, we'll do it when you're ready! I just- I spend so much time of the year away as it is, and I don't want to cut the short time even shorter when it comes to you, so this way we'll be together for a bit longer - even if it's just at nightime and we can intertwine our legs or I can warm up the bed for you", he rambled on and you were sure he wouldn't stop anytime soon.

"Hey, hey! Lando, baby", you cupped his face with your hands, "look at me", you smiled as you straddled his lap, your thighs on each side of his and keeping you from fully sitting on him, "good now?".

"Well, since you're already there - sit, please", Lando added before he allowed himself to stress about your answer.

"I don't want to squash you", you mumbled.

Laying his hands in your thighs, he pulled you down, "I said sit down", he spoke sternly despite the playful glint on his eyes, "it's my home after all, I get to make the rules".

"Oh, I thought it was our home, but maybe I misread th-", your playfulness was cut short as your boyfriend flipped you around, your back hitting the soft sofa cushion with a yelp.

"You're moving in? For real?", he asked.

"Yes, baby, I'm moving in", you cupped his cheek, pulling him for a kiss, "I love you".

"My love, I'm going to spend everyday reminding you how beautiful, how strong", he started kissing your face with every word, "how kind, how amazing, how sexy, how hot, how smart, how kind, how incredible you are", he stopped just above your lips, "how all mine you are - I love you Y/N, forever", before he kissed your lips.

[nanamis-baker]

Pizza date with Satoru

Summary: After a cancelled date, you and Satoru bake pizza together ♡ Content: Fluff, kinda suggestive. Tried making it wholesome too! 🫶 Word Count: 3.7k a/n: Hello you guys! I really wanted to write some Gojo fluff after whoring him out so here we are! I hope you like this! Also, big big BIG thank you to Nici @lostfracturess for helping me make this fic 10x better. She is the best!🌷 Oh, and you might find this similar to Bake Date, if you have read it, because both the fics have similar actions in them. But nonetheless, I really hope you enjoy reading this!

Satoru held you close as he fumbled with the keys, the click-clack of metal drowned out by the relentless drumming of rain on the roof. You shivered, the dampness seeping into your bones despite Satoru's warmth. His jacket, while a comforting shield, did little to keep away the cold. Droplets of water dripped down from your hair and clothes, leaving dark patches on the carpet below your feet.

As always, Satoru was pristine, his sorcerer uniform spotless amidst the chaos of the storm raging outside. "Stupid infinity," you muttered as a playful exasperation colouring your voice. A chuckle rumbled in his chest as he finally unlocked the door, the scent of home and Satoru's familiar cologne washing over you.

He gently removed his jacket from your shoulders as you glanced outside the kitchen window. The world outside was a blur of grey, the once vibrant Tokyo skyline muted by the downpour. Disappointment gnawed at you. Date nights were invaluable treasures for the two of you, carved out of busy schedules filled with sorcerer duties and teaching the students. Tonight was supposed to be one such night, and the two of you were supposed to go to this charming Italian place, but the rain had other plans.

"Looks like our plans are foiled," you sighed, the craving for sourdough pizza suddenly overwhelming. “I was really craving their pizza.”

Satoru hummed softly, his hands cupping your damp cheeks. His thumb traced your lower lip, sending a wave of warmth through you. With a gentle smile, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. His eyes, a striking blue that mirrored the sky on a clear day, stood in stark contrast to the stormy chaos outside. A sense of calm emanated from him. "Don't worry, love," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. "We'll figure something out." The way he sounded, you could tell he was already planning something.

A playful glint sparked in his eyes as he added, "But first, you need to warm up. Wouldn't you want to catch a cold, now would we?" he said teasingly.

A playful scowl crossed your face. "You're lucky I love you," you retorted, though the chill had already begun to seep into your bones. A hot shower sounded increasingly appealing. "One of these days, I will figure out a way to get you drenched in the rain too," you vowed, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips.

Satoru chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I look forward to it," he teased. "But for now, let's get you out of those wet clothes."

Before you could say anything else, another shiver ran down your spine. Yes, a warm shower sounded heavenly.

The shower washed away the chill from your bones, leaving you feeling refreshed and enveloped in the cosy warmth of Satoru's sweatshirt. You padded out of the bathroom, eager to be in his presence. Usually, Satoru waits for you in the bedroom, but right now, the bedroom was empty. With your curiosity piqued, you ventured into the kitchen.

The moment you stepped inside, your breath caught in your throat. The once ordinary space had been transformed into a cosy, warm space. The rain-streaked windows cast dancing shadows on the walls, while the soft, golden glow of kitchen lights and the warm scent of apple cinnamon from the candles filled the air. Soft notes of classical music reached your ears, their gentle melody soothing your soul. 

Satoru was hovering over the counter, his back turned towards you as he placed some mixing bowls on the platform. When he heard you walk in, he turned to face you, a smile instantly lighting up his face. He was clad in a navy turtleneck, his hair sticking out from places, yet somehow gracefully framing his face. But what stood out the most was an unexpected apron with small floral prints and olive green border that adorned his lean, muscular frame.

"You were craving sourdough pizza, right?" he asked, his voice soft as he gestured towards the counter. The counter was organised perfectly, with every ingredient laid out meticulously. Flour, tomatoes and a vibrant array of herbs awaited, as if ready to serve their purpose. And there, amidst all these ingredients, sat a small, unlabeled jar.

Intrigued, you reached for it, your fingers brushing against the cool glass as you removed the lid to see its gooey, bubbly contents. A sourdough starter! Your eyes widened in surprise. "Where did you get this?" you asked, disbelief colouring your voice. You and Satoru rarely cooked; a sourdough starter wasn’t something one would find lying around in your kitchen.

Satoru chuckled, amused at your astonishment. "Let's just say I owe Nanami a big favour," he confessed, his eyes sparkling under the golden lights that filled your kitchen.

Nanami! Of course, Nanami was the man who would have such things just lying around in his house. The realisation hit you like a wave of warmth. "You asked Nanami!" you exclaimed, still in disbelief.

Satoru nodded, a proud grin spreading across his face. "He was happy to help when I told him it was for you. Good thing you two are such great friends."

A soft smile tugged at your lips. You couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for both Satoru and Nanami.

Satoru grabbed your apron and moved behind you, helping you put it on and tying the apron strings together, his hands lingering on your waist. He pressed his lips right on the spot behind your ear before pulling you into his gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you. 

"Ready to get your hands dirty, hm?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. A surge of excitement pulsed through you as you nodded eagerly. "That's my girl," he murmured, pressing a final kiss to your cheek before squeezing your waist gently.

He reached for the recipe, his tall frame hovering over you. You skimmed through the instructions, a sense of anticipation growing. "This doesn't look too complicated," you commented, glancing up at him. The soft glow of the kitchen highlighted his striking features, making him look almost ethereal. He nodded, his eyes scanning the page. "Yeah, seems pretty straightforward," he agreed.

With that, Satoru began washing and preparing the vegetables - something he couldn’t do earlier, while you began measuring the dry ingredients for the dough. It was a simple task – flour and salt – but you approached it with precision, making sure it was the exact amount as mentioned in the recipe. As you measured, a splashing sound erupted from the sink.

Startled, you turned to see Satoru standing there, droplets of water clinging to him. He'd accidentally cranked the tap to full blast as he held the tomatoes under the tap, and since his infinity normally didn’t activate around you, the splashes had reached him.

Tiny droplets of water clung to his hair, and droplets raced down his face, some disappearing into the collar of his sweater. You couldn't help the laughter that escaped your lips and Satoru shot you a look of amused surprise.

Reaching for a stack of paper towels, you gently dabbed at his face, your fingers brushing against his damp skin. "I told you I'd find a way to get you wet," you teased, your voice light and playful.

Satoru chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He brushed away the remaining water droplets, his gaze lingering on your hand as he tilted his head. With a tender smile, he placed a soft kiss on the inside of your palm. "Well, good thing I don't need to find ways to get you wet," he retorted, his voice low and teasing. His arms found your waist once again, drawing you closer to his heated body.

Another chuckle escaped your lips as you playfully swatted his shoulder. "You know what? You're demoted from this position. Go and prepare the dough."

Satoru's smile widened, revealing a flash of white teeth. “Whatever you say, my love,” He said softly before placing a kiss on your cheeks, taking the spot you once occupied and started preparing the dough.

You started working on the vegetables, arranging the tomatoes on the baking tray before filling the empty space with garlic and onion. ignoring the recipe's modest suggestion, you generously filled the gaps, trusting your instincts. Who uses only three cloves of garlic anyways? When you were done, you drizzled a generous amount of olive oil over the prepared vegetables, before putting it in the heated oven to roast.

With that done, you turned your attention to Satoru, who seemed to be engrossed in the sourdough starter. He reached for the jar, unscrewing the lid as a peculiar scent filled the kitchen, a mix of tangy and earthy notes that was both intriguing and off-putting. Satoru peered into the jar, his nose scrunching up in slight disgust. It was a comical sight - Satoru had exorcised countless curses, yet sourdough starter was disgusting to him. "This seems to be… alive," he muttered, lilting the jar towards you so you can have a look too.

You leaned in, peering into the jar. Indeed, it was a strange sight. The starter was a bubbling, gooey mass. It was fascinating, but slightly repulsive too. "It's like something from a science fiction movie," you commented, a hint of amusement in your voice. “Something you don’t want to fall into.”

Satoru nodded, eying the mixture with scepticism. “If this wasn’t from Nanami, I would have thrown it away by now.” 

You hummed in agreement, leaning in closer to get a better look. Your hand rested on his shoulder, your fingers brushing against his hair. "Are you sure Nanami isn't trying to poison your ass?" you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. "Imagine the strongest sorcerer being taken out by food poisoning."

Satoru laughed, a deep, throaty sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "As real as that sounds, you know his wife wouldn't let him. She loves you too much for that." It was true; you were incredibly close to Nanami and his wife. Trusting their judgement, you and Satoru decided to incorporate the starter into the dough. With a splash of water, Satoru began to knead the mixture, his long fingers effortlessly combining the ingredients into an elastic mass.

You leaned against the counter, pulling yourself up into a comfortable sitting position as Satoru worked his magic on the dough. Watching him was oddly mesmerising. The way his strong fingers kneaded the dough, the rhythmic rise and fall of his shoulders, the subtle flex of his arm muscles as he stretched and pressed the dough together - it was a captivating sight.

Your gaze moved to his face, drawn in by the way the soft kitchen light danced across his features. His silvery hair seemed to shimmer with a golden hue, framing his face with a halo-like effect, making him look angelic. His eyelashes cast delicate shadows on his high cheekbones as he focused on the dough, his eyebrows knitting together slightly in concentration.

Out of all the different versions of Satoru you had seen all over the years, this Satoru was your favourite. The carefree Satoru, who didn't seem to be burdened by the responsibility of being the strongest. Not the six-eye user, but simply your Satoru, grounded in the mundane, yet radiating an undeniable charm.

Satoru’s hands abruptly stopped as he felt your gaze heating his skin. His eyes found yours, something dark swimming in them. “Keep looking at me like that love, and pizza would be the last thing we'll be making,” he said, his voice low. Satoru’s fingers retracted from the dough as he moved to settle between your knees, leaving the dough unattended on the counter.

Maintaining eye contact, his large hand grabbed your sides, pulling you closer till you were on the edge of the counter, the space between your bodies disappearing. You wrapped your hands around his neck, fingers combing through his hair - his undercut - oh how much you loved his undercut. His scent, so uniquely Satoru, filled your senses as he leaned in, his breath warm against the already heated skin of your cheeks.

"What will we be doing, then?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as you searched his face. Satoru just smiled, his eyes twinkling. Before you could process his intent, his lips found yours, capturing your attention completely. His hands roamed over your back, pulling you impossibly closer as he deepened the kiss. A low moan escaped your lips, a sound that seemed to encourage him further. The kitchen, the rain, the music - everything faded away, replaced by the intoxicating sensation of his touch and the warmth of his lips.

You knew what he was doing - this was just an aperçu, a tantalising tease, a glimpse of what may come. But you devoured it nonetheless, leaning into his touch, savouring every stolen moment.

But of course, stolen moments don't last forever. The sharp ding of the oven timer startled you both, bringing you back to the present. Reluctantly, Satoru broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he held you close to his body. A soft, frustrated groan escaped his throat, causing you to chuckle softly. Your arm moved to cup his cheek, your fingers tracing the rough texture of his stubble. His warmth seeped into you, a comforting contrast to the cool stone of the counter.

The oven dinged once again, reminding the two of you of the task in hand. Satoru wordlessly pulled back, his hands lingering on your waist before helping you down from the counter. He grabbed the oven mitts, sliding on the thick fabric even though he didn’t really need it. With a careful grip, he slid the tray out of the oven, the rich aroma of roasted vegetables filling the air as he set the tray down on the counter.

Your attention shifted to the recipe, looking for the next step.You were supposed to blend the vegetables with herbs and spices to create a smooth sauce for the pizza. Allowing the vegetables to cool slightly, you turned your attention to Satoru, as he placed the dough in a bowl, covered with a cloth, and set it near the warm oven to rise.

The two of you worked side by side, the gentle notes of the music creating a soothing ambiance. You began the process of blending the roasted vegetables, adding a pinch of salt and a mix of oregano, rosemary, and basil. The whirring of the blender filled the kitchen as the ingredients transformed into a smooth, fragrant sauce. You could feel Satoru's gaze on you as you worked, his silent observation making your cheeks warm.

Taking a spoonful of the sauce, you tasted the mixture, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. You turned to Satoru, holding out the spoon, inviting him to taste the sauce. His warm hand enveloped yours as he guided the spoon to his lips. He tasted the sauce, his eyes closing briefly as he savoured the flavour. "Oh, this is really good," he said, licking his lips to capture the lingering taste. The smile on your lips turned even bigger. "Really? It's not too spicy for you?" you asked, remembering he wasn’t a big fan of spicy food. He shook his head, a genuine smile playing on his lips. "No, it's perfect love," he replied.

Now that everything was ready, it was time to assemble the pizza. The dough had risen beautifully, doubling in size. A proud smile spread across Satoru’s face as he dusted the counter with flour, then gently extracted the dough from the bowl. He divided the dough into two equal portions, each one soft and pliable.

You grabbed the rolling pin and handed it to Satoru and he began to roll out the first base. The dough was surprisingly elastic, shrinking back at every attempt. Laughter bubbled up as you watched him struggle with the dough. You decided to take over, using your fingers to gently coax the dough into shape, making the edges slightly thicker than the rest of the base. To Satoru's amusement, you managed to create a perfect circle and a whimsical heart shaped base.

Satoru spread a generous layer of the prepared sauce over the bases, creating a vibrant canvas for the toppings and cheese to go on.

While he focused on the sauce, you gathered your favourite toppings, arranging them on the pizza. With a sprinkle of oregano and a handful of grated mozzarella, you transformed the plain dough into a mouth-watering masterpiece. Finally, you transferred the two pizzas onto the baking tray, the anticipation building with each passing second.

With a satisfied nod, Satoru slid the trays into the pre-heated oven, the comforting hiss of heat filling the room. Turning to you, he said, "Now we wait." Nodding your head, you echoed his words, a smile playing on your lips as your eyes were glued to the oven, a wave of gratitude crashing over you.

You turned to Satoru, your eyes sparkling with gratitude. Reaching for his hand, you squeezed it gently. "Thank you so much for arranging all of this, Satoru. It was so much more fun than just going to a cafe," you confessed, your voice filled with warmth.

Satoru squeezed your hand back, a smile gracing his lips. "Hey, no need to thank me, you deserve this," he replied, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

As the two of you waited for the pizza to bake, the music playing in the background took a familiar turn. Your favourite melody filled the room, its soft notes creating a warm ambiance. Satoru turned to you, a knowing look on his face as his eyes met yours. His arms found your waist, pulling you close. "Come here," he murmured, his voice low and inviting. You melted into his embrace, your arms wrapping around his muscular frame as he guided you to the centre of the kitchen.

It was still raining outside, and the sky had turned pitch dark. Somehow, it felt as if nothing existed beyond this kitchen. The kitchen felt like your world - a world you shared with Satoru, lit up by the warm glow of the oven and the soft lights.

Satoru's body pressed against yours as he pulled you closer, a comforting warmth radiating from him. You closed your eyes, letting the music wash over you as you leaned completely into him, your bodies forming a seamless unit. The two of you gently swayed to the music, creating a harmonious dance in the heart of your kitchen.

Satoru buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. You felt a shiver of contentment as he left a soft kiss there, a tender mark of affection. You ensconced your head on his shoulder, your cheek nuzzling into the warmth of his neck. The world seemed to fade away as you held him close, finding solace in the simple act of being together.

The two of you remained wrapped in each other's embrace until the insistent beep of the oven timer broke the spell. Satoru sighed, a note of reluctance in the sound as he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. You unwillingly pulled away, already missing the warmth of his body against yours, but the promise of pizza was tempting.

The intoxicating aroma of melted cheese and roasted vegetables filled the kitchen as you approached the oven. Peeking inside, your heart skipped a beat. The pizza looked absolutely perfect - the toppings were caramelised to golden perfection, the cheese was bubbling with an irresistible allure, and the crust promised a satisfying crunch.

Satoru effortlessly slid the tray out of the oven, his bare hands unaffected by the heat thanks to his infinity, before placing it on the counter. Satoru grabbed the pizza cutter and began dividing the pie into slices. The circular pizza was simple enough, but the heart-shaped one proved to be a bit of a challenge. But it was Satoru holding the blade - he managed to do it perfectly, of course, while maintaining the pizza’s charming shape.

You grabbed your and Satoru's favourite drinks, pouring them into two glasses before you rearranged the candles and flowers, creating a cosy little dining nook. Satoru placed a steaming slice of pizza on your plate, claiming one for himself as well.

The two of you settled into chairs, the anticipation thick in the air. "You look nervous, love," Satoru commented, his eyes shining with amusement. Your heart raced, a mix of excitement and trepidation bubbling within you. “I am sure it will be amazing - it already looks so good,” Satoru said, reaching for your hand and squeezing it gently. His words were comforting, and he was right too - it was just pizza, why were you feeling so nervous about it?

With a deep breath, you reached for your slice, the warmth of the crust radiating through the plate. As you took a bite, your eyes widened in surprise. The flavours exploded in your mouth, a perfect balance of tangy tomato sauce, the toppings, melted cheese, and the slightly chewy crust.

A small sound escaped your lips, a mixture of delight and satisfaction. Satoru chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I take it, it’s really good?" he asked, picking up his own slice. He took a bite, his expression shifting from anticipation to pure enjoyment. For a second, Satoru looked surprised, "Okay, I knew it would be good but I didn't expect it to be this good."

You laughed, taking another bite. "We are never going to a pizza place now, are we?" The crust was perfectly crisp, the sauce tangy yet sweet, and the cheese melted to gooey perfection. It was everything you had hoped for and more.

The two of you savoured every bite, the silence broken only by the occasional hum of satisfaction. When the last piece was gone, you leaned back in your chair, a contented sigh escaping your lips. Satoru mirrored your actions, a satisfied smile on his face. "Best pizza I've ever had," he declared, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand.

You returned his smile, a sense of accomplishment washing over you. Together, you cleaned up the kitchen, the lingering aroma of pizza filling the space. As you glanced out the window, you noticed the rain had dwindled to a gentle drizzle.

A soft smile graced your lips as you felt Satoru's arms wrap around you from behind as he left a kiss on your shoulder blade. He turned your body so you were facing him, his body creating a comforting barrier between you and the world. With ease, he lifted you onto the counter, his hands finding a secure hold on your thighs. As he settled between your legs, darkened eyes met yours. "Now, we have to take care of some interrupted business from earlier," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. Your smile turned even bigger as his lips captured yours in a tender kiss.

a/n: I think one of these days I am gonna lose my mind because my fics don't show up in the tags ughhh. But that aside, I hope you enjoyed reading this and it bought you some comfort! 🫶🫶 dividers by @/saradika-graphics

[animeniacss]

hey, I wanted to request a Jeonghan x Reader, fluff + angsty thingy? thank you in advance doe 🫶🏻

I hope you like it! I had a brainstorm for it already lingering so this request was EXACTLY what I needed!

Synopsis: After a fight, Jeonghan brings home a Lego set and starts working on it right in front of you. Does he not want to talk about it?

Tags: Slight Angst, Established Relationship, NonIdol!AU, Fluff, One-shot

Length: aapprox. 2.9k words

Jeonghan x Reader - For You

The sound of the apartment door closing did not make you look up from your book on the couch. The kicking and thumping of shoes in the entryway only made you turn your pages, and the sound of footsteps entering the apartment didn’t even pull your eyes up. 

It wasn’t until there was a commotion at the coffee table that you saw it being used. In front of you was Jeonghan, your boyfriend, pulling out a large Lego set. When his eyes shot up in your direction, you simply greeted him with a raise of your eyebrows and a flick of your eyes back down to your book, turning the page once again. A little hum was heard across from you, but you didn’t acknowledge it.

“Mind if I sit here?” he asked, though he was already doing so. 

You took a deep breath. The coffee table always had the best space for Jeonghan’s Lego sets. “...Sure,” you said, but your eyes remained glued on one word in the book, rereading it multiple times to look indifferent. Jeonghan hummed in thanks. 

You and Jeonghan had gotten into an argument earlier that way. Over what? You were too heated to remember. Something about work, because it was always about work when the two of you started fighting. After the shouting and the tears in your eyes, all you remember was storming into your room, and Jeonghan left minutes later. It took another twenty minutes of silence for you to exit the room, sitting on the couch where you’d remained ever since. 

But Jeonghan plopping down at the coffee table without saying anything might be the thing to change that. The fight still sat heavy in your bones, your pillow still damp from hysterical crying on the phone to Joshua and Seokmin for an hour. And Jeonghan didn’t seem to care one bit. 

He always kept to himself after a fight, using that space to cool down before the both of you talked it out. But wasn’t that why he left the house in the first place? When you turned the next page of your book, ending the chapter, your eyes lifted to him again. He was organizing his legos, eyes focused on the task at hand. He was reading the first set of instructions for his design. When your eyes fell to the box, you saw him place it under the coffee table and out of view. 

The both of you sat in awkward silence for a little while, you trying your best to focus on the book in your hands while Jeonghan silently shuffled through plastic Lego pieces, the clicking sound echoing through the little apartment. Sitting in silence when there was so much tension was sickening, and you never understood how Jeonghan was able to do it so easily. How he was able to move on without so much as a word about it, a huff, not even an apologetic glance. His eyes were as neutral as they were beautiful and it was infuriating. Every time. 

I can’t sit here. You thought to yourself when you saw Jeonghan sift through a little pile of white pieces. The sound of your book closing overtook the plastic clinking together momentarily, and Jeonghan’s eyes met yours once more. He blinked. 

“Are you going inside?” 

“I might.” You said. 

Jeonghan blinked. Opening his mouth a few times, you thought he was finally going to utter some sort of an apology. Or beg you to sit and keep him company. Something that you could use to leverage a conversation about what happened. But he simply brushed his shoulder-length black hair out of his face and asked: “Can you hand me that piece?” he pointed to a red piece that had broken away from the rest when the pack first opened. With a sigh, you knelt and took the piece from the other end of the table, sliding it back over until it clinked against his waiting palm. “Thanks.” and with a nod, he simply returned to his work. 

Almost dumbfounded, you stood there and watched as Jeonghan clicked the red piece into place. Wherever he worked on a new set you couldn’t help but be curious as to what he was making, but you simply avoided your gaze. The tension was still so palpable that you felt like you would choke on it. When would he put that down? It would only take a few seconds. Was that new set more important than-?

“Can you bring me that basket of extra Lego pieces in our closet?”

“Wh-?” the question almost made you stumble despite standing still, and you stared at him. “Your Lego basket?”

“Yeah. It’s in the closet right under.”

“I know where it is.” you huffed, slamming your book onto the couch and storming into the bedroom. You were unaware of how desperately you wanted to create some distance until your feet started moving. But when you scanned the bedroom, eyes falling right on the closet, you debated simply staying in the room and not bringing the bag out to him. He could easily come and get it himself, maybe it would pull him away from his new interest long enough to solve this awkward tension between you.

However, you felt your feet carry you to the closet, kneeling to pull out the little basket of extra Lego pieces he’d been collecting since long before the two of you got together. You could hear shuffling out in the other room, and like a magnet, you felt your feet spin and begin walking. I’ll just drop it and not say a word. I’m going inside. If he wants to play this game, I can too. And I’ll win. 

Jeonghan looked up when he saw you bring the basket out, face still his neutral appearance of indifference. It seemed nothing on the table had changed, so whatever he needed, would hopefully be in the basket. As promised, you set the basket on the floor beside him without a word, not even a huff as you straightened your body. Jeonghan turned his head, peering into the basket curiously. The second his hand dipped in and he began digging, you saw his brows furrow in annoyance. But you weren’t going to let him win. You weren’t. You couldn’t. 

You plopped yourself back down on the couch, kicking one leg over the other and grabbing your book. And just like that, the tension settled back over the two of you once again. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you knew that it was making your chest tighter and tighter with each passing minute. This game was always hard to play, even when Jeonghan wasn’t distracted with Legos or work or his phone. Just sitting in silence when so many unspoken things were settled between the both of you…neither of you dared to start the conversation, it seemed. 

Jeonghan, however, had no problem talking. He opened the next bag and looked back up at you. “Can you pass me that green stem piece?” 

Instinct kicked in, and you looked up from your book to search for the piece. “Where?” Jeonghan’s lips quirked into a smirk, watching as you covered your mouth and looked back at your book.

“Never mind,” he said, reaching and getting it himself. A beat of silence before he said: “You don’t have to sit in here with me.” Your eyes cast up to him. “If you don’t want to.”

Your frown tightened just a bit, thumbing through the pages of your book. You were here first why did you have to leave? Forget that one thought of leaving the room after bringing him his basket, it didn’t matter. Especially now that Jeonghan was practically telling you to leave! Pulling your growing frustration deep into your core, you simply pulled your feet up onto the couch and continued reading your book. Jeonghan hummed. “Alright, then.” 

A few more clicks of Lego pieces and you looked up at him. He seemed to have gotten what looked to be a brown pot with red and white decorations half completed, and you tilted your head. He was as focused as ever, sifting between what he was given and the basket of extra just in case. You watched form behind your book as he moved seamlessly in one spot, muttering to himself as he clicked pieces together. Without realizing you were doing so, you slid off the couch and across from him on the coffee table, setting your book down. Jeonghan only glanced at you for a second, the corner of his lip quirking into a little smile before he continued working. It didn’t matter. You still weren’t talking to him. You just…the floor was more comfortable. 

Maybe if I just stare at him, he’ll finally get the hint. You thought to yourself, eyes boring into him. He might just think I’m over it. However, the longer you stared, the harder you stared, Jeonghan just kept working. He didn’t even glance up at you again until you huffed in annoyance. With another couple of clicks, the brown pot was done. He opened another plastic bag of pieces and turned in the directions. You followed every movement, your eyes straining from how hard you were staring. No luck. Jeonghan was so stubborn when he wanted to be. 

When Jeonghan leaned forward to get the next piece needed, you leaned forward as well. His eyes flickered to you for a second, and that second left you hopeful. But he simply looked back down at his work, and you wondered if that second of hopefulness reflected in your face. He thought everything was ok. 

As silence returned to the coffee table, you watched his hands move and work. The longer you watched, the heavier your eyes felt. The heavier your eyes felt, the more they began to sting with the desire to relieve yourself of some of that heaviness. Some of the heaviness you’ve felt for hours since this stupid fight happened. 

And he looks completely unaffected. 

You inhaled to take a breath but didn’t realize how hard it shook your chest, causing you to immediately turn your head and cough. Out of the corner of your eye, Jeonghan’s hand stopped and he looked up at you. You covered your mouth with one hand, the other wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. Then, it happened. Jeonghan scooted around the coffee table until he was at your side, but you refused to look at him. You could feel his hand on the small of your back, and he softly said your name. You could hear the concern on the one word, the tone that indicated he knew he had waited far too long to start bringing this up. “Are you-?”

“Forget it, I’m fine.” You said. “Work on your thing, I’m good. Just swallowed…swallowed some air.” Despite not turning to see Jeonghan’s expression, you could tell he wasn’t convinced. 

“C’mere,” he said, reaching his arm forward and pulling you closer to his side. You looked up at him as he tucked your head gently into his shoulder, his own resting on top. The hand that wasn’t now gently guiding your arm had reached back out to the instructions of the Lego set, pulling across the table and onto his lap. He thumbed the previous few pages, before whispering: “I think this set is missing some pieces. Should I take it back?”

“What?” you coughed out, tilting your head up. “Is that really what you’re so worried about?”

“Hm? What are you worried about?” he asked. He saw your eyes widen, and he responded by squeezing your bicep and setting the instructions aside. “Is it still bothering you?”

“Yeah, of course! How could it not?!” you shifted enough to get a good look at him. “You left for hours after and…for the past hour you’ve been home we haven’t….spoken anything of it. You’ve been working on this….like nothing happened!” Jeonghan was silent for a second, watching as you wiped your eyes. 

“Mmmmm, well when I came home I saw how upset you were when you looked at me,” he said. “I thought I should wait until you felt ready to talk about it with me…”

“Aren’t you upset?” You asked. 

“I guess.” he reached for a Lego, fiddling it in his free hand. “Being out cooled my head down a bit. I probably gave you more reason to be angry this time, so it wouldn’t be my place to decide when you’re ready to talk about it.” He chuckled. “I’m not very good at reading people, it seems.”

You sighed, reaching forward and taking the piece out of his hand, using your nail to easily snap off another piece that was attached. Jeonghan hummed. “Oh, that’s where it was.” he chuckled a bit, both of you now playing with identical plastic Lego pieces. You squeezed the piece in between your fingers, letting the ridges press into your flesh as you did so. “I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I just wanted you to feel ready to talk.”

“I’ve wanted to talk since you left….” you whispered, not looking at him as you continued to spin the piece in your hands. Jeonghan looked at you. “But whatever…it doesn’t matter anymore. I just want to forget about it.”

“You sure?” Jeonghan asked. “You look upset.” Despite that being true, you nodded your head, setting the piece back into his open palm. When he took it, his fingers curled around your own, turning it gently to place a kiss on your knuckles. “Then, do you want to help me finish this?”

“...What even is this?” You asked curiously. Jeonghan hummed, tilting his head. 

“I want it to be a surprise,” he said. 

“Oh come on…” you sighed. “After everything you put me through?” Jeonghan chuckled, leaning over to place a kiss on your temple. 

“Yes,” he said. “I’m almost done with it, anyway. Can’t you tell?” He motioned to the pot sitting across from the both of you, then to what looked to be a stem and different colored petals. 

“Flowers?” you asked, leaning forward with Jeonghan as he pulled the pieces closer to you. “Here. Can you get these round, red pieces? They’re going to make the petals.” 

When you looked up at Jeonghan as he gave the request, you felt another deep breath take over your body. Only this time, your body didn’t curl in on itself or shake with violent coughs. You simply nodded your head, turning to shuffle through for the desired pieces. 

The silence at the coffee table was still prevalent, but not as tense or uncomfortable as it was before. Despite neither of you taking the time to talk about what had transpired yet, having Jeonghan right at your side, gently chatting with you about the flowers, and clicking pieces together with you seemed to be enough to ease you for now. Even if things weren’t fully resolved at the moment, the way Jeonghan felt onto the small of your back with one hand, and leaned against you with an amused giggle as you both frantically tried to find desired pieces or snap them together, you knew things would be. 

It took another hour and a half, the moon already hanging high over the apartment, when the flower pot was complete. You sighed, resting your elbow on the coffee table and looking over it with tired eyes. “It looks good,” you said.

“It does.” He agreed, only to take the set and pull it closer to you. You watched with curious eyes as he slid it close to you and smiled. “Here,” he said. 

“What are you doing?” you asked, wrapping your hands around the base of the brown flower pot. Jeonghan shifted in his seat, eyeing you.

“They’re for you. Flowers.” he nodded.

“What?” you snorted. “These are flowers for me?” 

“Yeah.” Jeonghan’s tongue poked from his lips, swiping along the bottom one briefly. “I was going to get you regular flowers, but those die,” he said simply. Reaching forward, he poked the red flower hidden within the plastic bouquet. “These won’t. Like my love for you…” 

“Ah…” you felt your cheeks heat up, covering them with your hands. Jeonghan chuckled in amusement, his cheeks a lighter shade of pink once those words left his mouth. “That’s cheesy.”

“You didn’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that.” you corrected. Jeonghan chuckled, watching as you examined the Lego set in your hands, a faint smile on your face. 

“I am sorry for before,” he said again. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“...I’m sorry too…” you said, eyeing him. “I don’t even remember what we were fighting about.” Jeonghan shrugged. 

“I don’t, either.” He said simply, pulling you back into his side. You set the flower pot back on the coffee table, currently surrounded by empty plastic bags and boxes that needed to be cleared away. “But it upset you, so it’s important enough to warrant an apology.”

“Mmm..” you nodded, pressing into his side. The both of you sat in silence for a minute, your eyes studying the flowers until you asked. “Do you have any other sets we can put together?”

Jeonghan let out an eager little hum, nodding his head. “I do, indeed,” he said, your smile matching his as you watched him get up from his seat. As you watched him walk away, you felt silence fall across the coffee table again. But this time, it didn’t feel tense or awkward at all. 

It felt good.  

[cerridwen007]

Hard pill to swallow.

*pics above are from pinterest and are used for aesthetics only.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 2.4k (18+) MINORS DNI!

Summary: Joel helps you fix your problem with swallowing pills.

Notes/Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Soft!Joel vibes, lowkey daddy Joel vibes too, Joel being a teasing, filthy mouthed menace because I said so, mentions of pills (vitamins and hayfever), mentions of gagging/gag reflex, Joel lifts reader, but Joel is huge and hella strong so he can lift anyone, cumplay, oral (m receiving), finger sucking, praise/ nicknames, swearing, no y/n.

A/N: Disclosure, this is fully self indulgent and based on my struggle with swallowing pills and me wanting Joel Miller's dick in my mouth all waking hours.  Was meant to post this before Valentines, but time got the best of me. But I suppose you can consider this my Valentines present from me to you, even though it's not related to valentines at all. I swear this is the second time that writing about my struggles in a fic with Joel, it’s pretty much solved them. He is truly that man. Quickly edited, as always, so sorry if there are any mistakes. Anyways, enough babbling, I hope y'all enjoy, and any interactions with posts are very much appreciated, and I love yall so much. Have a good day bebes. 🫶❤️

*********

You were embarrassed, to say the least, and annoyed and frustrated. For all of your life, you could never do that one thing that was a simple skill for most people, a simple and usually essential at that. You couldn't swallow pills for the life of you. Many frustrated mornings, well into your early adult years, were spent at the breakfast table with your parents, growing more and more impatient and irritated at your ‘talent’ for not being able to swallow pills no matter how hard you tried. And It's not like you didn't want to swallow pills. No, not at all. 

In fact you wish you could, it would have made your life a hell of lot easier. You would take swallowing pills over having to grind up the assorted pills for hayfever and vitamins into your drink and being forced to intigest the horrible tasting yet beneficial substances, the ones that made your eyes water and your stomach gurgle with just how bad they tasted. 

And trust me you had tried everything, sticking the pill right down your throat, damn near breaking your neck with the force you tilted your head back (to catch your gag reflex “off guard”) nearly watering boarding yourself a couple times, thinking the more water you swallow the easier right? You felt like the oblong white tablets were just ridiculing you at this point. 

You had achieved so much in your life yet you were brought down by your inability to swallow a tiny little thing for your benefit. You had not managed to find a shortage of adults and family members alike telling you, “it's all in your head” and suggesting unwarranted advice. Advice you ended up trying over and over again, knowing it wouldn't work. “It's just like swallowing food” they would say. But you knew damn right it wasn't. I mean you couldn't even swallow gum, so how were you supposed to swallow this?!

Because of all these judgemental looks and passive aggressive comments when it came up in conversation that you couldn't swallow pills, you tended to avoid the topic of conversation completely. It wasn't till a handsome man named Joel Miller came into your life, did you finally manage feel comfortable and unjudged about your inability. 

It had been a while that the two of you had been dating, nearly a year and you had never felt happier. Recently you had moved into his place and had just unfinished packing. It was a peaceful morning in Joel’s and now your own house, the morning sun shining down, warming up the frosted green grass as the birds chirps and, the smell of fresh brewed coffee filled your nostrils. The two of you sat opposite each other, drinking in the peaceful morning. This movie-like paradise was soon brought down in mood as you remembered it was time to take your daily vitamins and tablets. 

You sighed, a frown growing on your face as you anticipated yet another painful morning attempting to swallow some tablets. Joel's face mimics yours when he looks over at you from across the breakfast table. 

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked, concerned.

You sigh before explaining yourself.

“I just..I just suck at swallowing pills and I almost always end up having to crush them into a drink or whatever I'm eating and then it's disgusting. I know I'm an adult, I should be able to swallow them by now but I just can’t.” 

You try to blink away the tears from frustration as you talk, not wanting Joel to see you get so upset over something so little and stupid.

He listens with a soft frown on his face and you half expect him to scoff at you and belittle you for not being able to do something so easy. Then he locks eyes with you and sees your watery eyes and instantly his face softens.

“Aww baby, come here.” He holds out his arms and you quickly get up walking round the table to straddle his lap, burying your face into his shoulder, seeking his warming embrace to comfort you. You look up at him, when you feel the tears aren't going to spill out.

“You're not making fun of me or think that I'm being a baby?” 

He cups your face, forcing you to keep his warm gaze. “Now what would make you think that I thought that darling?” He questions.

You feel your throat constricting as you try to explain yourself, cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.

“I don't know…I just thought maybe before… you were frowning cause you don’t believe me or something.” You softly respond, embarrassed over the state you're in all over some silly little pills.

“Sweetheart of course I believe ya. I was frowning cause I hate to see my girl upset and struggling, and I was trying to think of some way to help ya.”

You sigh with relief, before resting your head back on Joel's shoulder, you sit there holding each other for a while before you're interrupted by the soft rocking back and forth of Joel's chest as he tries to quietly chuckle underneath you. 

“What’s so funny.” You ask, feeling a little irritated.

“Oh, nothing.” He responds, still with a wide grin.

“No, tell me.” You say, pouting.

He clears his throat and before he speaks in a dark tone, close to your ear sending shivers all throughout your body.

“Just thought of how good of a girl you are when you suck my dick, and how you don’t seem to have a problem swallowing my cum, do ya honey?”

Your eyes widen with the sudden lewd topic of conversation, your cheeks heat up and you lightly slap his chest.

“Joel!” you warn him, but you can't help but let the corners of your mouth lift up a little.

“That's different though.” You say quietly after a beat.

“Oh yeah? Why's that?” His eyes pierced through you, waiting for your answer.

You feel your cunt fluttering at his question, your panties dampening.

“Cause…cause I actually want to swallow your cum.” You softly admit.

He breathes in shakily as a growl-like sound softly rips through his chest. His head falls back and he slowly grinds up into your needy clothed cunt. 

“My dirty little cum slut, aren't you baby?” He groans as he cups your face with his hand.

You nod and he puts his thumb on your bottom lip, slowly dragging it downwards. Your tongue shoots out to lick it before your head dips it to take it into your mouth. You start sucking on it, needily. Needing to have some part of Joel in you.

“Needy too, apparently. Just how I like ya.” He murmurs to mostly himself as he pushes his fingers in deeper and pushes down on your tongue.

Your cunt is throbbing now, but the only thing you can think of right now is taking Joel’s fat cock into your mouth. You try and tell Joel as his thick fingers are stuffed in your mouth, so it ends up coming out as a garbled mess.

“What was that baby?” Joel teases you.

“W-wanna sl-suck your c-cock d-Joel.” 

“Can’t get enough of this fat dick down your throat can you sweetheart?” Joel growls as he removes his fingers.

You shake your head, your hands trailing over Joel's strong chest and biceps. You suck on the spot on his neck that drives him crazy, his hips start lightly thrusting up into you as a result. You grin devilishly, seeing and feeling Joel become a vulnerable mess, under your control is one of your favourite sights in the world. 

You slowly make your way down Joel's body, feeling and touching on every part of him that you can, except where you and him both want too most. When your knees finally hit the floor, you look up at him with an innocent smile. Although Joel knows your the exact opposite, he can’t help his breath stuttering and his heart racing at the stunning sight below him.

You bite your lip as you look to Joel belt, his prominent bulge just below it, silently asking for permission. He nods, spreading his legs wider. You place your hands on his knees and slowly trace your hand over his legs up to his hips, your eyes switching between looking up at Joel and his bulge that has your mouth watering. 

You unbuckle his belt, slowly, loving to tease him. But taking your time and going slow seems to make you more impatient than Joel himself, so you make quick work of unzipping his jeans and shucking them down his thick thighs, while your mouth waters. You swallow harshly, as you uncover Joel's thick and rock-hard package perfectly framed by his black boxers. 

Reaching below his elastic waistband to pull out his cock, you find yourself transfixed once again by his beautiful cock, tip flush dark red, shaft slightly curling upwards as it heavily bobs, just begging to be sucked. Your tongue darts out to slicken your lips. Your hand carefully grasps his length, Joel softly gasps, before your thumb traces over his slit and the white drop of precum, oozing out of it. 

You grin as you lower your head, placing a few teasing kisses around his head before you raise his cock up high enough that you can lick from between his balls all the way up to his slit. He shudders above you, his hand gently caressing your hair, grounding himself and connecting himself more to you, as if his dick in your mouth isn't enough. 

You let your saliva gather to the front of your mouth before slightly parting your lips to let the warm glob drip onto his flesh. You see his thighs flex from the corner of your eye as your palm encases him, spreading your moisture all over the veiny muscle. Starting out with slow hard strokes, and building it up faster, your hand struggles to meet around his girth. 

Your mouth finally latches onto his tip, tongue swirling around the bulbous head, making Joel groan deeply. You help unleash even more depraved sounds from deep in Joel's chest when your other hand reaches out to massage his hefty balls. All this encompassing stimulation has Joel racing towards the edge, his mouth spewing out dirty words and praises as he comes oh so close to his high.

“Ugh. Fuck yeah. Atta girl.”

“Just like that baby. F-fuck me that feels g-good.” 

“Fuck… I love the feel of your hot, wet mouth on my cock.”

“Going to make my heart go out on me, with how fucking heavenly your making me feel, baby.”

He clenches the muscles in his body as he tries to starve off his release long as possible, needing to tell you something first.

“Sweetheart, look at me. I-I’m going to need you to hold all my cum in your mouth baby when I finish-h. C-can you do that for me s-sweet girl?” He chokes out.

You nod slightly and moan around him, before returning to bobbing wildly on his pulsing cock. Loving the salty, musky taste of him, your pussy clenches thinking about the even more salty and delicious load soon to be filling your mouth.

You take him as deep he will go, your eyes tearing up as your throat constricts around him. You feel his balls tighten under your hand and you let his cock out ever so slightly so only his tip is encased by your stretched lips.

And before you know it Joel’s coming, a long string of curse words and moans pouring out his mouth as he does so. Your hand continues to stroke him, milking him for all he's worth. Till he is hissing through his teeth, his now spent cock sensitive and raw. 

The urge to swallow his spend is strong, but your need to listen to and please Joel stands stronger. You keep it all in your mouth, cheeks bulging out a little with how full they are.

Joel, still breathing heavily, bends over you so he can inspect your warming checks and watery eyes, you look completely wrecked and he loves it. He hums in delight seeing you patiently sitting beneath him waiting for his next instruction.

He reaches over the table to where you were sitting before leaning down closer to you again. His thumb and forefinger reaches out and takes a hold of your chin, tilting it a bit higher.

“Did so good for me sweet girl, but I need you to do one more thing for me, okay?” He whispers, his warm and inviting eyes making you melt further into the floor.

You nod in response, watching his other hand come down in front of your face, opening up to reveal your pills. He softly demands you to open your mouth, to which you oblige, before carefully placing the few pills into your cum filled mouth.

He tilts up chin so your mouth closes and seals your lips with his thumb, before moving his hand to the side of your jaw, rubbing soft circles over your cheekbone.

“Okay, I'm going to need you to be a good girl and swallow that for me.”

You give the best soft smile you can muster with a mouth full of cum before you begin to swallow Joel’s cum in small amounts, your eyes fluttering close in concentration.

 “That's it…. Good girl. Swallow it all, baby. Don’t wanna waste a drop do ya now?” He encourages you, eyes transfixed to your throat swallowing all of his cum and the pills.

The pills going down so easily you didn't feel them shocks you, as you open your eyes to a smiling, starry-eyed Joel looking down at you softly. A wide smile mimicking his, spreads over your face, before you open your mouth to reveal it, now empty, to Joel.

He reaches down to pick you up from your armpits, placing you on his lap again. You giggle as he places lots of kisses all over your face and nuzzles his nose into yours.

“I’m so proud of you my sweet, darling girl. Did so good.”

“Thank you, Joel.” You coo back, sighing softly with relief and happiness over your achievement.

“Guess we know now how to get you to swallow your pills every morning, don't we baby?” Joel teases you, holding you close to his chest as he kisses your temple.

“Indeed we do.” You reply, giggling, before resting your head on Joel's warm and sturdy chest, basking in the love and warmth of your lover.

***********

[masonmontz]

hello hello 🫶🏻

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

+18 smut - bj, the two of them tying each other up, dirty talk, pet name, a little bit of sub!mase word count: 3,7k

NOTES: this is not about their romance, there’s no romance in fact, i tried to write something different and i hope you like it 🤗(maybe I SAID MAYBE will be the part 2 or more bc it's an open ending) - don't wait for fluffy

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

Mason tried but he couldn't take his eyes off you since you walked into that club.

The tight white dress really caught his attention, as did the high heels with the red soles. The red lipstick made Mason want to smudge it all over your mouth with a kiss.

And you noticed him too ‘cause Mason saw you look at him and smiled, taking a sip of your drink as you stared at him. It wasn't a normal club, the girls dancing on stage all night had only one goal, as did the men who danced shirtless and in suspenders.

Mason wasn't interested in any strippers, in fact he didn't come with that objective, he just decided to accompany the guys for a fun night. He just didn't expect to find something so interesting in a white dress and red lipstick.

And the best part is that you noticed him too.

You looked over your shoulder and walked to the bar, taking one last look at Mason before turning away. He didn't think twice before following you, ignoring his friends calling out to him.

You had your back to him and a dancer tried to stop Mason, but he just ignored her and kept walking towards you. Mason stood right behind you and you smiled because you knew he was going to follow you, and you turned in the seat to face him.

“Well, I thought it would take longer” you said and Mason smiled, shivering with your voice. He was mesmerized, Mason had never seen someone so beautiful. “Did you like what you saw?”

“I'm just thinking how much I like that red lipstick on your lips” he murmured and not even the loud music stopped you from understanding. “I’m Mason, nice to meet you.”

“I’m Y/n” you said and turned to order a drink, but Mason offered his glass to you. “What are you drinking?”

“Whiskey” he shrugged and you took a sip. Mason found the lipstick mark on the cup incredibly sexy.

“So Mason, what do you want?” you asked and Mason almost widened his eyes at you being so direct, but it was better this way than pretending you weren't interested.

“I- what?” he asked confused. “Well, it doesn’t matter if you don’t tell me what you want.”

“I wanna have sex with you and never see you again.”

Mason felt used, but maybe that's just what he does to some women. Mason prayed it was bad and he wouldn't have to see you anymore, because it would be a shame not to see such a pretty face again.

“Fine by me” he said even though it wasn't what he wanted to say to you. Mason would die to feel those lips just once.

Mason would be embarrassed to admit he was horny in the middle of a nightclub over a woman he hadn't even touched yet, but those eyes felt like they were fucking Mason every time you looked at his body. It had been a long time since he felt such a strong desire to have sex with a woman.

“Do you want to go to your house?” he asked, but you quickly shook your head and pointed at him. “Mine then.”

Mason didn't even bother to say goodbye to the guys before grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the club, not before paying your bill and his. You didn't say anything on the way, you just sent a message to the girls letting them know you had left.

Mason was even sexier driving and you wanted to give him a blowjob right there, but it was better to wait until you got to a safe place.

You took his hand that was resting on the backrest and brought it to your leg, Mason smiled mischievously as he squeezed the soft skin.

“You can touch me if you want” you murmured and brought your hand to his thigh, caressing it lightly and looking at him, who alternated his gaze between the road and you. “Don’t be afraid.”

“You’re the devil trying to kill me” you smiled and brought your hand to his crotch, caressing it over the fabric of his beige pants. Mason was hard and you noticed it as soon as you left the club, and you really wanted to touch him since you saw him for the first time that night.

Mason brought his hands to the hem of your dress and looked at you, who just nodded and allowed him to bring his hand to your pussy.

You sighed as he pressed a finger against your clit, and you tried to massage his cock through the fabric, but his finger inside you felt so much better and you couldn't concentrate. You spread your legs and prayed that no cars would pass by, because anyone would see Mason with his fingers stuck in your wet pussy.

You moaned and bit your lips, you took your hand off Mason's dick and held his hand that was on your clit, you pulled your white dress up and Mason could see your red panties that covered nothing.

Mason hated himself ‘cause he still had to pay attention to the road when all he wanted to do was stop the car and cum in your hot pussy. He pulled the small fabric of your panties to the side and you brought his finger to your entrance, making Mason feel how much you were dripping for him. He moaned when he felt the wetness and heat there.

“I’m gonna stop the car” he murmured but you nodded.

“No, someone can see us” You reached your hand down to Mason's pants again and unzipped him, putting your hand inside his pants and feeling his damp underwear. “You’re so big.”

He smiled and shrugged, and your right hand was on his cock and with your left hand you took Mason's fingers inside you, spreading your legs even wider as he penetrated you with two fingers.

You could barely masturbate Mason because you wanted him to thrust his fingers even faster inside you, but he still had to drive.

“Yeah this is so good” you moaned and tried to move up and down his cock, feeling Mason hard as cement. You're almost drooling as you imagine his cock dripping wet to fuck you, hard and veiny.

“You’re so wet” he mumbled and Mason stopped at a traffic light, and when he saw there were no cars around he leaned in and kissed you, finally smudging the lipstick like he wanted.

You moaned as Mason sped up the movements of his fingers, and if he was already good with his fingers, you couldn't wait to see the rest.

A horn took you out of the bubble and Mason sped up the car, wanting to get home as quickly as possible. Mason had moved away from you to drive and you decided to tease him.

You stuck your own fingers in your pussy and pulled them out, bringing them to his lips. Mason didn't think twice before sucking both fingers, licking and tasting the moisture there.

“Good boy” you whispered, and then you lowered the neckline of your dress so Mason could see your breasts, and he moaned when he saw your hard nipples waiting for his mouth. “This is all for you tonight.”

“Please, just masturbate me all the way home” he begged, but you laughed and nodded. You took his hand again and ran his finger over your nipple, and Mason spread you open with his fingertips. “I need to fuck you so bad.”

“How long to your house?” you asked.

“We’re arriving.”

You let go of Mason's hand and pulled on your dress, adjusting your clothes and reaching down to Mason's pants to button them up again.

Of course you rubbed his dick on purpose.

It didn't take long for Mason to stop in front of a large house, and you admired the building because it really is very beautiful.

Mason parked the car and you grabbed your bag and got out, and he quickly showed you the entrance to the house while purposefully rubbing his erection against your ass.

If he pinned you against the wall and fucked you there you wouldn't mind. Or maybe you'd ask him to fuck you on top of that Lamborghini.

You want to control him.

Mason took you to his room and you rolled your eyes when you saw how luxurious the room was, you knew he was a football player and earned millions, but they like to show off.

“All this luxury makes me horny” you mumbled and laughed, Mason smiled and you pulled him against you, kissing him once more.

You knew that the first time he kissed you in the car your lipstick had smudged, and when you walked into the house and Mason turned on the lights you saw his lips smudged with lipstick too. It was so sexy you could cum just imagining him with his lipstick smeared on your pussy.

“That's not very nice, I wanted to make you horny” Mason said and pushed you against the bed, making you fall on your back as he climbed up without letting his weight fall on you.

Mason took off his shirt before leaning down and kissing your lips hard, and you sighed at his tongue against yours.

“Do you have a tie?” you asked as he pulled away to pull up your dress and place his mouth on your nipple, and Mason raised his eyebrow at the request.

“Why? Do you want to be tied up?” you smiled mischievously and scratched his chest with your long nails, and Mason dodged because he shivered at the same time his skin burned.

“No, I want to tie you up” You took advantage of Mason being distracted and turned over in bed, placing him underneath you.

“You can choose the color of the tie” Mason murmured and he felt his cock throb at the thought of being tied up. He had never experienced that before and, well, it would be interesting.

Mason walked to the closet and you followed him, he opened a drawer with a tie and you took a black one. Luckily, he also had a chair in the closet and you grabbed it before leaving. Mason followed you.

You placed the chair in the middle of the room and took off your dress, leaving only your panties and hills for Mason. Mason took off his shirt and when he reached for the button on his pants you went over to him and stopped him.

“You won't take it off now” it was an order and Mason knew it. He obeyed. “Sit there.”

Mason sat in the chair and held out his hands for you to tie, but you smiled and followed him, pulling his arms behind your back.

“You’re not gonna touch me”

“Not fair.”

“It's fair, yeah” you tightened the knot and Mason's hands were trapped behind his back. You turned around and sat on his lap, pulling him in for a kiss. You were sitting on his dick and you could feel how hard he was. “Be a good boy for me.”

Mason closed his eyes and moaned, enjoying being dominated. Mason had never tried anything like it and he noticed that he liked it.

You stood up and Mason opened his eyes, watching you stop in front of him and pull your panties down, leaving you with only your Louboutin heels.

Mason licked his eyes as he saw the pussy in front of him. You lifted one of your legs and rested it on Mason's thigh, and he could clearly see the shine from the wetness there.

“You liked the view?” you asked and Mason agreed, so you smiled and sat in his lap. You grabbed his hair, making Mason look at you. You brought your hand to his chest and scratched, pulling your nail hard from his chest to his pecs, leaving marks.

You got off Mason's lap and knelt in front of him, watching Mason bite his lip as you looked up like the devil. You smiled and Mason knew that smile was capable of killing someone. A man.

You brought your hands to the waistband of his pants, lightly running your hand over the bulge appearing there. Mason sighed. You smiled. You opened the button and zipper, and Mason lifted his hips so you could pull his pants down, leaving him in just his underwear. You brought your lips to the fabric, leaving a light kiss on top that made Mason shiver. He tried to pull his arm away but it was in vain, because he was tied up.

A smile crossed your lips as Mason threw his head back, and you pulled down his underwear to watch his cock spring out of the fabric and rest hard against his abdomen. Mason shivered as you stared at his cock like it was a lollipop, you looked up only to find Mason's eyes desperate to feel your mouth around the length of his cock.

“What do you want?” you asked quietly, holding his cock with one hand and making light movements up and down, feeling it throb between your fingers. “How do you like it? Hard?”

Mason whimpered as you placed your palm on top of his cock, making circular motions as he squirmed in his chair, unable to get out.

“Please, put it in your mouth” he said in a whisper, throwing his head back as he felt the movements of her hand making strong movements around his cock. “Harder, please.”

As you made strong movements with your hand up and down you brought your lips to Mason's balls, he was so hard it looked like Mason was going to explode. You looked up once more and slid your tongue along his entire length as Mason stared at you, you brought a hand to his chest and scratched, seeing the marks you had already left there.

“Please, please…” he moaned when you finally put it all in your mouth, sucking Mason hard while what didn't fit in your mouth you masturbated with your hand. Mason was big and thick, and you couldn't wait to have that whole cock inside you. “I wanna touch you.”

“No” you held Mason sitting with one hand on his abdomen, licking his cock again afterwards. He was so beautiful that you could spend hours licking and sucking, without worrying about anything else. “You want to fuck my mouth?”

“Hell, yeah…” a hoarse moan left his throat and you felt your entire body tremble. Mason didn't seem to be thinking clearly with you making quick movements with your soft lips around his cock.

“Do it” you rested your hands on his thigh as Mason tried to lift his hips to fuck your mouth, and even tied up he had speed and you just looked up as Mason fucked your mouth like you wanted. “Oh my god I’m gonna cum.”

And that's when you stopped, taking his dick out of your mouth and getting up from the floor, hearing Mason complain. You walked and stopped behind him, bringing your lips to his neck and running your hands down his abdomen, reaching his hard cock and making calm movements, making Mason writhe in agony because all he wanted was to release himself.

“I wish you would suck me but I'd rather you fuck me” you whispered in his ear and Mason felt his whole body shiver with your voice, so you released the knot of his tie and Mason stood up quickly, pulling you into a hot kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and moaned when you felt your nipples brush against his warm chest, and Mason walked over to pull you to the bed, but you stopped and held out the tie to him, lifting your arms. Mason's eyes lit up when he understood what you wanted.

“Tie me up” you said, and you almost smiled when you saw Mason’s smile. He tied you up quickly, but Mason glanced at the bed before you laid down.

“I'm going to tie your arms to the headboard” you agreed, and then you climbed onto the bed and crawled over there in your heels, sticking your ass out for Mason to look at.

“Oh Lord” he groaned as you turned over in bed and spread your legs with your arms up. He walked over to your side and tied your arms to the wooden headboard, and Mason quickly took off the underwear he was still wearing.

Mason opened a drawer next to you and took out a condom, and you bit your lip as you watched him put it on and climb into bed next. He held your legs around his hips and you wiggled, wanting him to penetrate you right away, but Mason smiled.

“Maybe it's my time to tease you” he murmured and rubbed the tip of his cock at your entrance, making you moan as he pulled out and did it again, teasing you without penetrating.

“Don’t you dare” you said angrily, but before you could say anything again Mason penetrated you all at once, making you moan loudly as he filled you completely. “Oh- this is so good.”

“Can I move?” you almost melted at the question, because even though Mason was so sexy, he was still concerned and kind.

“Yeah” Mason barely waited for you to respond before he started moving fast, and you rolled your eyes, unable to keep them open for long as Mason fucked you hard. “Yes… yes.”

“You’re so hot, this is so good” he groaned and you regretted the idea of ​​tying you up because all you wanted to do was scratch his back until you left marks that would last for a week.

“Don’t stop” you begged, you had been horny for hours and it wouldn't be long before you came, just like Mason.

It was only a few minutes of Mason fucking you until you felt your body tingle, and you tried to pull your hands from your tie to grab something, but Mason laughed at your desperation and lowered his head to bite your nipple, making you scream as you came around his cock, feeling your pussy throb against him.

Mason pulled his tie and released you, and you quickly brought your hand to your tits, seeking another release as your orgasm exploded inside you.

You moaned his name a few times and Mason held your legs, fucking you wildly and all you could hear was the sound of his skin slapping against yours, and it didn't take long for Mason to cum and throw his head back as he spurted inside you.

Mason's cock was throbbing inside you, and you were so sensitive you could cry, but you pulled Mason's hand from your thigh to your clit, and Mason raised his eyebrows in confusion, because you came ten seconds ago.

“Trust me” you said, and then made circular motions with Mason's fingers on your sensitive clit, and you moaned loudly once more as you came for the second time in less than ten seconds. Mason moaned softly as your pussy squeezed his cock again, and you closed your eyes and relaxed against the soft pillows of his bed.

Mason pulled out of you and now you felt only emptiness as you tried to control your rapid breathing. A few seconds later Mason threw himself down next to you, and when you opened your eyes you saw him staring at the ceiling.

“I didn't know that was possible”

“What?”

“Making a woman cum twice in a row.”

“Then you have a lot to learn about women, my dear.”

Mason let out a low laugh and looked at you, and you just smiled at him but closed your eyes.

“Will you sleep here with me?”

“Not even in your dreams” you murmured. “I need to go home, my fiancé is waiting for me.”

Mason would have laughed at the joke if he hadn't noticed the serious tone in his voice.

“Your what?” he asked with his heart racing. What the fuck?

“My fiancé” you shrugged and Mason really thought you were psychopathic or sadistic at that moment.

“You’re kidding” he said, sitting on the bed.

“If he thinks he can cheat on me, I can cheat on him too. I'm not cheating, I'm taking revenge.”

Oh my God. Mason is dizzy.

“So you used me? Just like that?” he asked indignantly.

“No, I really wanted to have sex with you and it was great.”

“Y/n you’re crazy” he said and threw himself on the bed again, trying to relax and hoping that no man would show up at his house tomorrow to punch him.

“Sorry but I need to go” you said and pulled Mason, and he accepted and gave you one last kiss before you got out of bed to look for your clothes. God, you hadn't even taken off your heels.

“I'll take you home, you can't go alone at this time.”

“I don't want you to take me home, I don't mind going alone.”

“You sure?”

“Just sex and we won't see each other again, remember?”

“Yes, sure.”

Mason didn't know if he was more frustrated that you used him to get back at your fiancé or that he never wanted to see him again because he really wouldn't mind having sex with you again.

He was naked in bed as he watched the most beautiful woman he had ever seen put her clothes back on and act like she had never seen him. It seems the tables have turned for him, and not in a good way.

“Thank you for this night and I’m sorry about this” you said and walked closer, giving Mason one last kiss and not accepting when he offered to go down with you to wait for a taxi. “Don't tie other women up, it's not cool.”

“Yeah right, I can't do this anymore because I'll remember you” Mason rolled his eyes but smiled at you.

“At least I know I'm unforgettable. Bye Mason.”

[f10werfae]

Mr. Clingy and Kal

pairing: Henry Cavill x Actress!Shy!Oblivious!GF!Reader

summary: Fans retell the moments of Henry and Y/n L/n’s relationship despite her being quite the opposite of him. (major clingy Henry) (Requested by anon)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

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@/fansdaily: Anyone see that Henry posted a mirror selfie of him and Y/n in his hotel room, her face hidden in his neck with her arms around his waist, WHILE HE IS KISSING HER FOREHEAD WITH AN ARM AROUND HER WAIST TO KEEP HER CLOSE. Can someone confirm if they’re dating already?? Seeing Henry with someone quieter than him is the best trope

@/barbraturth: Guys Henry just confirmed his and Y/n’s relationship on Instagram!! He posted a picture of Y/n and Kal walking in front of him, with the caption ‘my whole world right in front of me’!!

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@/Peoplesnews: Henry Cavill confirms year long romance with his female lead, Y/n L/n. The younger beautiful star has captured hearts all over the nation, not only for her shy nature, but also for her warm kind heart! We wish the happy couple the best♥️

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@/jointloveduo: Henry just spilled major details on a podcast😭 Apparently for the first two months he was supposedly “courting” Y/n by bringing her flowers and lunch nearly everyday AND SHE DIDNT EVEN REALISE. Instead during one of their extended vacations while on set, he took her swimming and because she’s a weak swimmer she held onto him the entire time. Then he says he kissed her under the sunset on the beach and they’ve been glued together ever since

>> @/lovebug101: I’ve been watching Y/n for years and i’m so glad she’s found someone perfect for her♥️ All of her exes have come out saying she’s too quiet for them, but we all know they jus can’t handle her beauty

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@/beautyandtheleast: I just saw THE Y/n L/n in pets at home with Kal, she was bringing him up and down the toy aisle until he chose something! Henry came up behind her and just hugged her, kissing her cheek and everything😭

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@/Purplerains: When Henry posted a video of him building his PC and then he panned the frame to Y/n who was on the other side of the table, building her own set of legos he bought her🫶 He got her the flowers from the botanical section

>> @/judywrench: “Why are you on the floor love? What are you doing?” When I heard Henry say that while videoing Y/n eating nachos while on the floor of their kitchen at 2am, I fell in love with their relationship. THEN HE JOINED HER AND THEY HAD A WHOLE SNACK SESSION

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@/mysterymachine69: Henry just posted a picture of Y/n laying face down on their bed, their blanket just above her waist AND I JUST WANNA ASK HOW SHE HAS NO BACNE? And was that a hickey I saw on her top left shoulder along with bite marks 😳

>> @/Badbieferrer: Did no one else notice the handcuffs on the bedside table, they’re so purple and fluffy. We always knew Henry was a kinky bastard, he’s completely ruined our Y/n 😂

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@/Loosecanon: Y/n said that before her and Henry dated, he used to help her get to sleep because he knew she had trouble sleeping in trailers. So he would accompany her until she fell asleep and even made her a sleep playlist full of songs he’d play during the day

>> @/cavillgyal1010: Did you see also for his birthday she took him out and absolutely spoiled him. Paid for his dinner and all the things he wanted to buy. What a girlboss.

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@/popincolour: Y/n took Henry to her niece’s sports contest and he started acting like the typical overprotective uncle. When she was knocked down by a boy, Henry started shouting at the referee like a madman😭

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@/HenryCavill: Proud to announce that my best girl, Y/n L/n, has just received her doctorate in (certain job) can’t be prouder to be her man♥️

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@/Pucygrinsh: Henry said that whenever they cuddle Y/n tucks her cold ass feet under his thighs to get warm and whenever he has food she always steals it off him even though she “isn’t hungry” Henry then said that the only way for him to actually get food is to kiss Y/n jus so he can taste it ☠️

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@/Rainbown: Henry and Y/n have their own kiss routine, first her forehead, cheeks, nose then lips.

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@/beautifull101010: Henry said he hates when Y/n wears lip gloss, because when he kisses her it gets all over him. SO NOW HE CARRIES AROUND WIPES FOR WHENEVER HE WANTS TO KISS HER AND THEN HE REAPPLIES THE LIP GLOSS FOR HER

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@/mjtochond: Y/n said in a recent podcast that whenever she needs to pee in the middle of cuddling, Henry will literally accompany her to the bathroom and just chat to her while sitting in the bath tub. What a cute idiot, he’s so in love with her it’s crazy.

>> @/Y/n/L/n: He’s so clingy it’s adorable, he’s like an extra Kal on my leg😭 Only Kal actually leaves me alone when I need the toilet

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@/Turtlensaps: The first time Henry saw Y/n without makeup was when she was having the flu real bad and Henry said she’s never looked so pure and beautiful. She had his sweats and hoodie on, her hair all over the place and all she wanted was hugs from him. Henry then went on to say that she didn’t let him kiss her but he stole one anyway and got sick the next week. SO THEN Y/N HAD TO PLAY NURSE NEXT😩

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@/Exposedtruth: Henry Cavill Spotted with long-term girlfriend Y/n L/n getting close by his childhood home in Jersey! Surrounded by his brothers and their children, the happy couple are seen to be cradling one of Henry’s nephews on their lap, a possible foreshadow for their own?! Y/n was wearing a stunning sun dress which matched Henry’s button up, the image definitely giving off a happy family. Where’s that ring Henry??

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Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @tinyelfperson @athena-roy @fdl305 @kebabgirl67 @mysticfalls01 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @princess-paramour @mansaaay @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @alina02 @bookfrog242 @alexxavicry @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @sparklemarysunshine @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @aerangi @lastwandastan @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @diyabhanushali1 @spencerreidat4am @keiva1000 @acornacre @ninasw0rld @ggmimitf @teti-menchon0604 @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @grxnde-dwt @kzhlvlysstuff @thoughtsofreid

[theemporium]

🧸 lando’s reaction to his twins dressing up as max and daniel for halloween (like rbr suit & kangaroo costume) saying they’re their uncles😭💗 idk if he’d find it more hilarious or cute skdksks

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

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“I don’t understand why I have to wear this blindfold!”

“Because it’s a surprise!”

“I don’t like that you three have been conspiring behind my back!”

“I am surprised you even know what that means.”

Lando couldn’t help but let out a snort, shaking his head as he settled back in his seat. It was dress up day at the twins’ school and they had been eager to choose their costumes this year; you had told him as much on the phone whilst he was back at the factory for a few days. He had asked multiple times what the twins had chosen but you never once gave him a concise answer.

He had been eager to see the costumes this morning, only to be told he was banned from the twins’ room. Instead, he was set on the couch with a blindfold over his eyes (the twins’ request) to make sure he wouldn’t peak before they were ready. 

“Okay, you ready?” 

He heard some giggles and couldn’t help but let his lips twitch upwards. “Yes! Show me!” 

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!” 

“Go!”

It took Lando a few seconds to blink away the fuzziness as he pulled the blindfold off his head, letting his vision focus again before he was taking in the sight in front of him. Both twins stood a few feet in front of him, grinning wide and proud as they awaited his reaction. 

Delilah was on the left, dark brown curls like his own poking out from the kangaroo hat that was settled on her head. Lorelai was no better, though hers was a lion instead, with a massive mane framing her round face as she smiled widely. It took him a few seconds before he looked down, seeing the mini racing suits they were wearing before it all clicked to him. 

And once it had, he couldn’t help but let out a loud, boisterous laugh that the twins seemed to reciprocate. 

“Oh, the boys are gonna love this!” 

“Do you like it, daddy?” Delilah had asked, her eyes big, doe eyes staring at him with such eagerness. 

“I love them, honey,” Lando smiled, reaching for his phone to take a picture of this scene. “And I’m sure Uncle Max and Uncle Daniel are gonna love it too.”

“The girls felt bad when they both dressed up as you last year,” you explained with an amused smile on your face. Both Max and Daniel had joked that their feelings were hurt and, with the twins having big hearts as they did, they wanted to cheer their uncles up. 

“Well, you two look so much cuter than your uncles but I am sure they will love it,” Lando said to them as he reached for them both, his smile widening as they squealed when he lightly tickled their sides before hugging them close. “But we all know who the best team is, right?”

“Papaya!” They both exclaimed together.

Lando smiled proudly. “My smart girls.”

.

[sonotpattismith]

My Lost, Fearless Leader. (yuta okkotsu x reader)

As the men masqueraded, I hoped you’d return with your feet on the ground, tell me all that you’d learned, because love’s never lost once perspective is earned.

word count: 9k warnings: angst, me never making it easy for poor Yuta a/n: inspired by Peter by Taylor Swift. Lowkey a self-insert as I too am a therapist, tee hee. I hope y’all enjoy it, I absolutely love writing for Yuta even though I make him suffer every time 🥹🫶🏻

masterlist.

Dear Okkotsu,

I know you only landed last week, but you left me with so many questions when you said goodbye. At the risk of sounding too forward, I thought for a moment that you would kiss me before you left. You had a look in your eye, one I’d never seen before, and I even thought I saw you square your shoulders like you were about to charge into battle.

Inumaki offered to give me your number when I asked about you, but I feared too quick of a response if I were to text you. After all, I love to torture myself. Somehow a letter felt safer, more disconnected. Still, I hope you have the time to write back to me while you’re out there growing as you so desperately wanted to.

You still have me in your corner here in Tokyo.

With kind regards,

L/N.

Dear L/N,

I hope this letter gets to you soon, though I know it has some way to go— I don’t want to leave you waiting again. I wondered if I should just text you, but you’re right, maybe this is best for wimps like me who were too scared to kiss the girl they like before traveling oceans away. There’s more courage in me hiding behind a pen than I ever had standing in front of you.

No matter how badly I wanted to show you how I felt, I didn’t feel worthy enough when I looked at that scar on your face— one I should have been able to prevent. There’s so much for me to learn about this world, and Gojo-Sensei says Kenya is where I need to be. I trust him implicitly, and I only hope here I’ll be able to grow into someone worthy of coming back to all of you at Jujutsu High. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself, but I hope to become someone worthy enough to indulge myself in you as well.

I hope you can find it in you to wait for me all the way in your corner of Tokyo.

Respectfully,

Okkotsu.

Dear Okkotsu,

You were right, your letter did travel far, and after two weeks, I feared I may not ever hear back from you.

What happened with Geto Suguru wasn’t your fault, and, if I remember correctly, you were the one that saved all of us that night. It breaks my heart that you feel you don’t have a place here with us. I never thought you needed to prove yourself, and if that’s the only reason you went thousands of miles away— then you should board the next flight back over.

If I had known it was the scar on my face that stopped you, I would have covered it just for you. No one else around here is willing to take the blame for me when I break one of Maki’s spears— that alone should earn you a spot right beside me over here. Speaking of, I hope the bump on your forehead has gone down.

Luckily for the both of us, patience is my best virtue, but I do hope you don’t make me wait terribly long. You don’t have to be the strongest.

Holding my breath,

Y/N.

Dear L/N,

Maybe eventually I’ll work up the courage to call you, but our weeks of waiting in between will just have to do for now.

I think you’re beautiful— regardless of your scar, and I hope I didn’t send the wrong message when I said it’s what stopped me. I only meant that it reminded me of the kind of guy that deserves your attention, one that has brought about more good than he has bad in his life.

I’ve hurt so many people, and it wouldn’t be right of me not to try to make up for the wrongs I’ve caused. It’s only been a month, but Miguel has taught me so much, and I’ve seen so many wonderful things. I’m not sure if you’re interested, but I’m sending you some pictures of all my favorite parts.

I hope Maki has been merciful to you, and, yes, my bump is gone. Still, the little scar there reminds me of you each time I see it. So, I suppose I should thank her.

We’ve been talking so much about me, but I want to hear how you’re doing back in your corner of the world. How have your classes been going? I almost miss hearing everyone arguing with Gojo-Sensei every morning.

I don’t want to be the strongest, but I want to be strong enough to be worthy of you. The last thing I want is to keep you waiting too long, but however long it takes for me to be able to make a mark on those who have shown such faith in me.

Thinking of you,

Okkotsu.

Dear Yuta,

Surely that’s not you in that picture beside the giraffe? It’s only been two months— what are they feeding you over there? I had to do a triple take. You look well, Okkotsu.

I’m starting to wonder if it’s really you behind that ink. You were never so bold when you were here. Do you have a ghostwriter? I have my doubts, but I still hope all those thoughtful words really are coming from you.

I can see how hard you’ve been working, and I hope you’re beginning to find in yourself the pride I and all us here at home have always had in you. I don’t think anyone blames you for the unfairness that’s clung to you thus far, and no one expects you to make up for any of it— at least I know I don’t. If you really insist on doing so though, maybe you can start by giving me a call every once and a while? I’m sure you're busy, but I’d love to hear your voice again.

Classes have been going well. We’re almost going into our second year now, and everyone still talks so fondly of you. We wish you were here to start the year with us. I certainly miss having someone who was equally as clueless when it came to this world— it felt like you were the last shred of normalcy I was hanging onto. It’s okay though, I suppose I have some growing to do too.

Also, you don’t need to be so formal with me, I think you’ve earned the first name basis. Unless of course, you need to build up the courage for that, too.

I only felt it was fair to send some pictures of all of us here as well— though they’re nowhere near as badass as your safari photos. Please keep sending them— I’ll cherish the ones I have here for now though.

Still waiting for you,

Y/N.

Three months following Yuta’s departure from Tokyo, you first received an actual call from him. You had just turned in for the night, muscles aching from the mission you and Maki had just returned from only an hour or two prior. Truthfully, you were having a difficult time with the added responsibility that was accompanying your new year at Jujutsu High.

Last year, at the very least, you had Yuta there who seemed on a fairly level playing field with you. Still, he held more of a determination to move forward in his life as a sorcerer than you did. After your encounter with Geto Suguru that had left you partially blinded in your right eye, it was difficult for you to find that gusto you had when you first arrived.

The deep lulls of slumber had just begun to penetrate your exhausted mind, and you could swear a more pleasant dream was just beyond your reach. When your phone began vibrating underneath your still cool pillow, your brows furrowed at the intrusion. The sound caused an electric-like jolt in your body that had you shooting up as if someone had just pulled the fire alarm. Calming your racing heart, you reached down to snatch the device up. Your eyes squinted to adjust to the blue light emitting from the screen, and you saw a number you didn’t recognize. Under the caller location though, it indicated that it was coming from Kenya.

Sitting up with a gasp, you gaped down at the device, uncertain excitement bubbling in your stomach and up your chest. Without a second thought, you swiped to answer the call. Amidst your anticipation of who you thought might be on the other line, you forgot to greet the caller.

“Um… uh- hello?”

A smile spread across your cheeks at the sound of his timid voice.

“A call from Kenya,” You began teasingly, your voice still hoarse from sleep. “I wonder who it could be.”

There was an abrupt shuffling on the other line, and you could already picture him pacing around whatever space he was currently occupying.

“You got me!” Yuta quipped nervously, quickly checking the time on his phone upon hearing the sleepy tone that laced your voice. It wasn’t too late over in Tokyo, and he figured if he didn’t call you now while he still had the nerve to do it, he never would. Okkotsu had determined during his time in Kenya that his confidence somehow peaked right after a successful mission. Naturally, this was when he calculated it would be the best time to call you with the lowest possibility of making a stuttering fool of himself. “Di-Did I wake you? I can call back another-”

“After you took three months to gather all that courage up?” You joked with a fond smile, reaching down to toy with the corner of your pillow. Despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, you shook your head. “I think I can stay up for a few minutes.”

He was grateful, so eternally grateful that you couldn’t see the way the blood rushed up his neck and into his face. Pressing a cool hand against his cheek as if it would make the heat die down, he forced himself to sit on the edge of his bed, bottom lip caught between his teeth. It had been too long already since he last spoke, and the silence on the call was becoming overbearing as he thought of anything to say.

“You there, Yuta?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m, uh-- still here.” The boy chuckled pathetically, pounding his balled up fist against his thigh, willing himself to quit being such a loser. Shooting up to begin his short trek around his room once again, he took a deep breath. “I-I wanted to thank you. You know, for writing to me the past few months. I think they’ve been kind of motivating me, actually.”

“Yeah?” You smiled, lying back down on your pillow to stare stupidly up at the ceiling of your dorm. In hearing that shy voice that you had been missing for so long, you had forgotten about the aching, abused muscles that had been assaulting you just minutes prior. In its place was the rushing endorphins of your child-like crush on the boy on the other line. “So, when you come back strong enough to beat Sensei’s ass, I can take partial credit, right?”

His soft laugh filled your once silent room, inciting the overwhelming butterflies in your stomach to erupt in a fluttering haze.

“It’ll all be you.” Yuta joked halfheartedly, rubbing the back of his neck in relief that he’d gotten past the awkward silence unscathed. He flopped back down onto his bed and looked out the window at the slowly setting sun. “Uh… speaking of Sensei, how is everything over there? The exchange event is coming up soon, right?”

This made your smile slowly wane.

“Yeah, it’s next month. There was some drama with the first years, but everyone else seems to be pretty excited.”

“Everyone else? It sounds like you’re not including yourself in there.”

You sighed gently. Yuta was always so determined about growing as a sorcerer, so these types of events were always right up his alley. Not to mention the manner in which he absolutely wiped out the sister school at last year’s event. It actually caused a bit of second-hand embarrassment to watch the whole ordeal play out— no matter how quickly it concluded. After the atrocities of the past few months though, you couldn’t find it within yourself to be excited for the goodwill event.

It wasn’t that long ago that you watched all your friends meet near death at the hands of Suguru Geto, and you weren’t too far behind. They had all seemingly moved on from it all so fast— all of them except for Yuta Okkotsu. It seemed that all it had done was given him more ammunition to spark his journey of self discovery. You wished it had had the same effect on you. In truth though, all it sparked was a fear that your life, along with your friends, was constantly at the mercy of a crueler fate than most your age would be subjected to.

It felt wrong. Yuta shouldn’t have felt the need to bear the weight of you and your friends’ injuries all on his own. He shouldn’t have needed to go off to search for some unknown answer to all the insecurities his grueling life had thrust upon him. Still, it was so important to him. You could see the way it gave him purpose, a will to keep going despite all that he’d been through. It wasn’t his fault, but you always wished you could have found that same purpose within slaying curses and putting your life on the line.

A soft call of your name on the other line pulled you from your self-depricating thoughts. Shaking your head, you attempted to lighten the mood.

“Last name again? So formal. I thought we were past that, Okkotsu.”

“Oh-- right, sorry.” He stammered out before trying your first name out on his lips. It was delicate in the way it rolled off his tongue, sending warmth straight through your chest. Recalling your sudden silence once his nerves subsided, his lips pulled pensively into a thin line. “Um, have you been doing okay? You know, since…”

Brows rising just a hair, you were shocked at how easily he read through your sudden change in tone. Your lip quivered into a slight frown. A deep breath was suddenly pushing down that biting urge you had to tear up.

“Yeah, I’ve been okay. Just… wish you were still here is all.” You confessed into the dark, lonely dorm room. “I think you were the only one who understood how overwhelming this all was.”

Yuta felt his chest constrict at your earnest confession. Part of him felt guilty for not being there, but he knew deep down that he was doing the right thing by building himself up before he allowed himself to come back— especially to you. Still, the boy knew where you were coming from. It wasn’t easy being the newcomer in a world where your peers had a fifteen year head start on.

The two of you understood each other—empathized with one another. You both strived to make sure the other was doing okay; whether that be sneaking out late at night to practice with one another in hopes you both wouldn’t make fools of yourselves in training the next day, or just being someone that the other could glance knowingly at when one of your classmates mentioned something it seemed that everyone else was privy to, except you two.

“I’m getting stronger everyday.” Yuta offered earnestly, a soft, empathetic smile playing on his lips— the kind you could just hear through his gentle tone. “And I know you are too. We’re gonna kick some major butt one day, y’know?”

The boy was relieved when your glittering laugh filled his speakers, and he found himself laughing along with you. A comfortable silence blanketed over you two, and for a moment it felt as though you were laying right beside him, your gentle breaths lighting a fire within his soul. The courage that he thought he had lost upon hearing your voice for the first time in months was slowly flooding back to him, and he began pensively rolling his bottom lip between his fingers.

“Hey,” Okkotsu called out feebly, resting his hand down on his chest and feeling his heart pounding against his fingers. Reaching down to your discarded letter beside him, he picked up the picture you’d sent along with it. It was of all the second years, and he wondered with a smile if you had Gojo-Sensei take it for you all, and, if so, how much he complained about not being included.

You stood in the middle of Inumaki and Maki, Panda standing proudly and towering behind you. His thumb reached out to graze softly over your face. In the photo, one of your hands was teasingly covering your right eye, and he blushed as he remembered your earlier conversation about that scar. You hummed in acknowledgment on the other line. “Did you mean it? You know… when you said you’d wait for me?”

“Did you mean it when you said you were gonna come back for me?” You countered quickly.

Yuta exhaled nervously, the churning in his chest making him feel as though he might pass out. Staring back at your smiling face in the photo, he nodded breathlessly.

“Of course, I meant it. I meant every word.”

“Then so did I.”

Yuta Okkotsu’s reassuring promise helped ground you in your studies of jujutsu for a while longer, but you could still feel the aching insistence in the back of your mind that told you this wasn’t where you were meant to be. Your friendship with the sorcerer continued to grow even over the thousands of miles that separated you.

He’d call you whenever he had the chance to, and you’d text him about updates on what all his friends had been up to without him. Although both Inumaki and Maki kept up with him regularly, he allowed you to retell stories he’d more often than not already heard from them.

He could tell that you were struggling to find and hold your place as a sorcerer. You always listened enthusiastically when he’d tell you about the new techniques he was learning or the missions he’d been sent on, nodding along on the other line and hanging onto every word he said. Still, when he’d await to hear the progress of your training or how your latest mission had gone, you didn’t have the same enthusiasm in your tone.

It had been almost a year since he’d been gone. The two of you had never implicitly discussed the nature of your relationship, but your lingering promise to each other seemed to be enough to keep your hearts locked safely away for the other’s return. As the months dragged on though, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was worth staying in the world of jujutsu that seemed to so expertly traumatize you and your peers.

You insisted on video calling him for once, eager to once again put a face to the voice that had been filling your every night for the past few months. Maybe, you thought to yourself, if you saw those warm, inviting eyes again paired with that timid smile, you’d find it in you to hold out just a bit longer.

“Ca-Can you see me?” Yuta’s ever anxious voice filled your quiet room once again. The palm of his hand briefly covered the camera before it was moved away, and it appeared as though he had propped you up on a dresser of some sort. He stepped back, hunching over so his face was still in the frame, staring hesitantly into the screen.

A brief exhale of disbelief left you at the sight of him. He had changed so much over the past year; from the inches he’d sprouted up, to the new broadness of his lean shoulders, right down to his more maturely parted hair as it swayed in his face.

His features appeared sharper than when you’d last seen him, a testament to how much he’d grown physically as well as mentally. The dark circles you remember being everpresent under his long, midnight-blue eyes seemed even more pronounced now, and you wondered just how hard this Miguel character had been working him. Despite his apparent lack of sleep though, he grinned cheerfully upon seeing your face.

Forgoing your previous concern, an ecstatic smile of your own lit up your face as you took him in. You had always thought he had a sort of innocent, gentle cuteness to him, but time and knowledge seemed to have morphed those characteristics into the sharp, hauntingly striking ghost of the boy you once knew presented before you. For the first time since knowing him, you thought you felt more nervous than he did at the moment.

“Wow! You look--” He paused, a slight flush filling his face, and suddenly he was that timid boy again, staring down at you with the false promise of a kiss. Your heart melted at the sight. Yuta was still looking nervously back at you, mouth hanging open as if his mind was running faster than his tongue could process. You raised your brows expectantly at him, hiding your amused smile. “Uh—pretty! You— you look really pretty.”

A soft blush fell across your cheeks.

“Thanks, Yuta.” You laughed softly, eyes fluttering across his face admiringly. “You look like you’ve… grown.”

“Oh, me?” He laughed skittishly, hand coming up to rustle through his jet black locks. His brows were furrowed slightly as he looked down at his own appearance as if he was only just now noticing the growth spurt he’d had in the past year. “Yeah! I guess—”

“Is that blood on your shirt?” You suddenly noticed, leaning forward so your squinting eyes could get a better look at the dark matter that clung to his white top. His eyes shot up to meet yours, and in an instant, his fumbling hands were working to unbutton his uniform shirt. It was no use though, the white t-shirt underneath was also stained through.

“Sorry, I just got back from a mission.” He admitted dejectedly, grabbing the phone and sitting on the floor, resting his back against the bed behind him. “I would’ve showered, but I didn’t want to keep you up too late.”

You sat back against your headboard tentatively. It was incredible to you how he was never phased by the violence and bloodshed that shrouded this lifestyle. There were so many nights that you lay awake, eyes unblinking as you tried to forget the horrors you’d witnessed just long enough to get some sleep.

“How do you do it, Yu?” You asked timidly.

Yuta took in the way your wide eyes glimmered with the threat of unspilled tears. There it was again— that underlying fear in your tone and demeanor that told him that something wasn’t quite right, and it hadn’t been right since you came so close to death.

“What do you mean, love?” He wasn’t sure where that term of endearment came from, maybe from the concern that had been pooling in him for months and had now suddenly burst upon seeing that broken look in your eyes. Either way, it was too late to take it back now.

“Act like everything’s normal when you come home covered in blood and guts and watch people die— watch your friends—”

“I’m doing this for my friends.” His response had a defensive edge to it, but his wide eyes were gentle, taking in your vulnerable state carefully. “And for the people I’ve had to watch die. Bad things will happen whether I’m a part of them or not. How can I sit back and do nothing when that’s all I’ve done my entire life?”

You suddenly felt small in your corner of the world. He was selfless, fearless, purposeful in his mission as a sorcerer, and you couldn’t fault him for it. Moreso, you faulted yourself for lacking that same drive.

“I just– sometimes I feel like this isn’t for me. I’m not like you, Yuta. I don’t think I’m strong enough for this. I’m not strong enough for this.”

Yuta continued to insist upon believing in your growth, just as you had believed in his. His persistence in your strength of character only served to break your heart more. You knew the deeper his faith in you ran, the more crushing his disappointment would be when you inevitably let him down.

In the weeks following your dismayed conversation with him, you weren’t answering his calls as often, afraid he would be on the other line hoping to hear of your growth and the things you’d overcome— but you had none to show for. You usually texted him with false excuses that you were on a mission, or that you were simply too tired to talk that night. No matter how hard you tried to pride yourself in your little victories, your faith in your abilities as a sorcerer was waning quickly before your eyes.

He had always said that he was the one undeserving of his place in this world— of his place beside you. The stronger he grew though, the more you only noticed the opposite.

It was a month after your phone call that you received a small package from Kenya, recognizing the stamp immediately as one of the various animal themed ones Yuta seemed to keep stockpiled just for you. Chewing at your bottom lip, a sense of guilt washed over you, knowing you hadn’t been keeping up with him as much as you once did. Despite this, he continued to try, desperate to get through to you somehow before you slipped from between his fingers all together.

Ripping open the orange, padded envelope, you overturned the contents onto your bed. The wooden beads of a bracelet clacked softly against one another as they fell upon the comforter, a letter landing gently atop it. You ran your fingers along the thin bracelet, thinking maybe if you concentrated long enough, you’d be able to feel the warmth of his fingers lingering from when he’d carefully placed it into the envelope for you. You picked up the accompanying letter.

Dear Y/N,

It seems like they’ve been keeping you really busy over there in your corner of the world! I had so much I wanted to tell you, but I thought maybe it’d be best to put it all into a letter so you could read it at a time that’s best for you.

Gojo-Sensei says that I’ll probably be coming back soon, maybe in the next couple of months even. If all goes well, I hope to be joining everyone for our final year. It’d be nice to all be together again. It’d be nice to actually see you again.

You don’t have to tell me everything, but I know you’ve been going through a hard time recently, and I’m sorry I’m not there to help you. You were wrong the other night on the phone— you are stronger than you think. This life isn’t easy, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re not fit for it just because it hurts you right now.

When I felt I had no strength left in me to keep going, it was you who lent me some of yours until I could stand again. I’m sending it back to you now, so please use it to keep moving forward until I can lend you some of mine. Please, keep waiting for me.

The beads on the bracelet I sent you represent all the things I wish for you. The red represent bravery and strength, the kind I know you have in you still. Until you find them though, let these be a reminder. The yellow are for growth, and until you can see it coming your way, let these motivate you.

I got one just like it for myself, so I can be reminded everyday of the things I love about you. I’ll keep it on me always, and I hope as you’re waiting that you’ll do the same.

Still yours,

Yuta.

Tears were streaming freely down your cheeks and staining the precious letter before you. With wobbling lips, you bit back a quiet sob as you carefully slipped the thin bracelet onto your wrist. Strength. Bravery. Growth. They were all pillars that seemed so far away from you, but Yuta was convinced you held them just within your grasp. If anything, the beads would serve as a reminder that someone important was counting on you, and you’d rather suffer the uphill battle than disappoint him.

The next morning, you woke early to speak with Gojo. He was lounging lazily in his large, plush chair, laptop sat carelessly on his lap when you came in. As if expecting you all along, he looked up from his bored typing to offer a sly smile— the type that told you he was always steps ahead of you.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Gojo greeted, closing his laptop and setting it haphazardly on his desk. Leaning back, he laced his fingers casually in his lap, jutting his chin toward the seat in front of him.

Hesitantly, you sat down. Your posture was rigid as you stared back at his half-covered face. Although your sensei had never given you a reason to fear him, you couldn’t help but feel anxious at the thought of how he might react to your request.

“I… I don’t know how to say this.”

He stayed silent, allowing you to collect your thoughts. The small smile tugging at his lips said he already knew what was plaguing your mind. Fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist, you were reminded of the importance that you stand your ground here.

“I’m not sure I’m cut out for being a sorcerer.” It was out there, and it hung heavily in the air around you. Looking down at your twiddling fingers, you felt that familiar lump building in your throat. Your sensei was silent before you. Glancing up at him through tear soaked eyes, you shrugged your shoulders in defeat. “I’m not like the others. I can’t bounce back like they do. It scares me; the death, the fighting, the loss— it terrifies me, Gojo. I can’t do it anymore. I-I just—”

“You’ve been struggling for a while now, haven’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question— an observation he’d been holding onto for some time. The older man wasn’t oblivious, he could see when his students were beginning to slip away; physically and mentally.

“How did you know?” You briefly wondered if Yuta had mentioned something to him during their regular check in calls, but you doubted it.

Standing abruptly from his chair, he strolled leisurely around the room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“You remind me of someone, is all.” Gojo’s cryptic message left more questions than answers. Though you had grown used to his dodgy answers and coded messages, now was really not the time. Before you could express your annoyance, he continued. “You’re not stuck, you know.”

Your mouth hung open as you stared at him in disbelief. Standing up to face him as he stared out the window, your mind was racing at the possibilities.

“You mean— I could leave? Just like that?”

“Just like that. I’d talk to the higher ups today for you if that’s really what you want.” Still, the edge in his tone indicated that he wasn’t about to let you off that easily. As if sensing your apprehension, he tilted his head playfully toward you, a fond smile on his face. “I’ve seen what this gig can do to people. I don’t need to see you fall victim to it too.”

“I mean— I…” You were stumbling over your words. For the past few years, you were sure that your future was set for you— one you were apprehensive about living, but one that was secure nonetheless. Where would you go from here?

Gojo hummed pensively— invitingly. God, how you wished he would just spit out what he clearly wanted so desperately to say. Of course, he always wanted his students to come to their own conclusions, set their own fates.

“The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.” The sensei announced dramatically, taking another lap around the room. You shivered at the mention of that night. He leaned toward you with a raised brow. “That’s when this all started, am I right? You almost died, if I remember correctly.”

“I would have if it hadn’t been for—”

“Yuta Okkotsu.” He cut you off, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips, and for a moment you thought you saw his head tilt down as if to look at the bracelet you were currently rolling between your fingers. Nodding softly, he continued. “Still, you cut it pretty close. Must have been traumatizing. Partially lost your sight, almost lost your friends, your life.”

You nodded silently, unsure of where he was going with this long winded rant. Of course, him giving you a simple out was just too easy for Gojo-Sensei’s ‘everything is a life lesson’ style of teaching.

“Tell you what, why don’t I set up a meeting for you to meet with a counselor? Someone who specializes in all our creepy-crawly problems?”

“Like… like therapy?” You questioned with furrowed brows. A therapist for sorcerers? You didn’t even know such a thing existed. Still, the prospect sparked a certain hope in your chest, one that the six eyes saw instantly. He didn’t bother to conceal his victorious smile.

“Yup. Nice, comfy couch and everything.” He advertised as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. His long fingers began typing purposefully against the screen before he looked up at you again. “Of course, she’s kind of running a one-man show, so her schedule is pretty tight. I can pull a few strings for you though.” His words rang in your mind with a faint echo. That suggestive, underlying tone in his voice, it was beginning to seep through, and your gut was telling you his suggestion was a lot more calculated than you would ever give him credit for. “That kind of work is in high demand, you know— what with all the new curses popping up since Itadori came along.”

Gojo was continuing to drop hints, but you had already heard him loud and clear. This was something he thought you could do— somewhere he knew you would fit within this hectic world. As a teacher, it was his job to train the up and coming sorcerers for the perils that lay ahead of them. In the same prospect though, he had also become incredibly adept at discovering their potential and nudging them toward it— even if it wasn’t as gently as he thought.

The following week you met with the therapist Gojo had supposedly pulled so many strings to get you in to see. She had a small office just minutes away from the school, and you wondered why she wasn’t on campus. She hadn’t suggested it to you first, though she was well aware of what Gojo was trying to do when he set up this meeting.

So, amidst your explanation of everything you had been experiencing since that night, you dropped in questions. How did she know this was the right path for her— how closely did she work with Jujutsu High— how did she get where she was?

By the gentle and encouraging manner in which she answered all of your questions, you had a gut feeling once again that Gojo had already been three steps ahead of you. You were set to transfer out of Jujutsu High the following week.

Your sensei funded your education through an outside university, who’s higher ups had connections with the school. Kaori, the god-sent sorcerer counselor who’d seemingly fallen from the heavens right when you needed her, was more than happy to take you under her wing as well. In truth, she was relieved to have some help around the office given the influx of referrals she’d been receiving recently.

Everything had been falling into place, yet there was still one last loose end you had yet to tie up from your life as a sorcerer. You looked down at the box of letters you’d kept over the past year or so from Yuta.

Following his last letter, and how determined he seemed to be that you would make it as a sorcerer— you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that you had given up. After everything he’d done to grow himself into the man he was now, a fearless and loyal sword to his friends and the innocent— and you had given up. In the end, despite his insistence that it was him not worthy enough to stick around, you realized it had been you all along.

You weren’t worthy of Yuta Okkotsu.

Your trembling finger hovered over his contact, but you couldn’t do it. Clicking your phone off, you stared up at the ceiling of your now empty dorm room and allowed the hot tears to burn your cheeks, dripping down your neck and into the hem of your shirt. He was still finishing up his training, growing into a man he could be proud of, experiencing the things that made him feel alive. It would be selfish of you to drop this on him now.

Setting down the box on your desk, you pulled out a spare sheet of paper and sat down to draft your last prose to Yuta Okkotsu.

Dear Yuta,

By the time you’re reading this, I’m sure you will have already heard about my departure from Jujutsu High. I wanted to call you and tell you everything that’s been on my mind, to give you a proper goodbye, but I didn’t want to interrupt your progress overseas.

I wanted to thank you for the kindness you’ve shown me over the years. I’ll cherish each bit of it as long as I live. You kept me holding on through my lowest points, even if it wasn’t the life of sorcery that I was holding onto.

I know I’m cowardly, but I just couldn’t look you in the eyes and tell you that I had given up. You’ve worked so hard and sacrificed so much to hold your place here, and I suppose a part of me feels foolish for giving mine up so easily.

Your passion for undoing the wrongs in this world is so beautiful, and although I couldn’t share it with you, it only ever made me love you more. Please never take it for granted. Continue to fight to hold your place here, because you hold more power than you could ever come to know. I can feel it, even when you’re not here.

I’m sorry that I couldn’t wait for you.

Forever yours,

Y/N

When Yuta Okkotsu arrived back at Jujutsu High three months later, he had already been sitting on the news of your departure for two weeks. His friends thought it best to at least prepare him for when he returned, but he figured so much when you stopped responding to his calls and messages. No amount of preparation could have stopped the hole from opening up in his chest upon reading the letter you’d left in his dorm room. It sat neatly on his untouched pillow— a ghost that haunted him the second he stepped in.

He tried with fervor to be excited for his return, smiling along half heartedly when his friends shoved a party hat on his head and insisted upon celebrating all the birthdays they’d missed. Those haunting blue eyes only stared lifelessly at the cake before him, his soul still sat on the edge of his bed where he’d read your letter.

Forever yours.

Yuta wondered if those simple two words meant the door was open for him to swing in and come find you as he so ardently promised he would. Gojo-Sensei said you were happy though— working toward your place in the world. It was one he no longer felt he had a place in— not when his life consisted so wholly of the very things you were running from.

Months passed, and the both of you tried so desperately to move on. Despite being content in the roots your lives had sprouted, there was always a missing piece that stopped the both of you from blossoming. You always held your breath in hopes he’d come back to you like he said he would, and he always hoped you were still waiting for him despite his insistence that you were happier without him. The both of you were only kids when you’d carelessly thrown out such a vow, after all.

Gojo felt whole-heartedly confident in his whim to have Kaori train you. There was a spark in you, one that wanted to heal those that this world had so carelessly wounded, even if that meant you having to heal yourself first. In the end, it was the right decision, and he prided himself in the fact that there was a happy medium to keep your talents within the jujutsu world still while also fulfilling your purpose. There was a missing piece of the puzzle that lingered ever present though, and that was the infuriating case of you and Yuta Okkotsu.

It was getting depressing— watching the boy mope around pretending to not have the very obvious chip on his shoulder all the damn time. Your old sensei still kept up with you and your progress often, seeing as the school worked closely with Kaori to refer in need sorcerers on a regular basis.

Each time he’d pop in for a visit or called unexpectedly, you’d always ask how everyone back at the school was doing. Sure, you really did hope your old friends were doing okay, but you were really holding your breath for when he’d mention Yuta. Gojo always spoke of him so highly, and you couldn’t help but smile fondly each time, thinking of how proud you were at how much he’d accomplished— just as he said he would. Still, the six eyes never missed that morose glimmer in your eye as you’d nod along to his stories.

“Have you ever tried sleeping at night, or are those dark circles just a part of you now?”

Yuta was snapped from his stupor when his sensei dropped unceremoniously beside him as he looked on at his friends ahead of him. As if having just been reminded of his perpetual exhaustion, he reached up subconsciously to rub at those aforementioned dark eyes.

“Oh, haha,” Yuta’s halfhearted attempt at a laugh only served to drive Gojo’s purpose right home. “Yeah, guess my sleep schedule never really adjusted back to normal, huh?”

“You aren’t performing like you should be, Okkotsu.”

He gaped exasperatedly at his sensei, blinking a few times as if maybe he just hadn’t heard him correctly. Frankly, he had been kicking ass lately, and everyone around him knew it too. Still, if Gojo-Sensei was telling him he was falling behind, it was seemingly the only opinion that mattered. Even if it wore him down till only his skeleton remained, he would keep getting better until he could prove himself to the man who took a chance on him.

Already picking up on the look of determination on the boy’s face, Gojo put out a solemn ‘slow your roll’ hand in front of him. Sighing in amusement, the sensei thought the boy would crush a semi-truck between his hands if it’d make him grow— meant he could prove himself.

“Your mind isn’t here. Hasn’t been since you got back. I can tell, you know.”

Okkotsu’s shoulders slumped dejectedly. No matter how much he worked to train physically, to learn to control his cursed energy and techniques, there was always that one lingering barrier that seemed to keep him from reaching his potential. Of course, he knew he had been more distracted since your departure, but he figured— hoped— it would pass eventually. He thought maybe if he ignored it long enough, pushed down that frenzy to rip his hair out by the roots and bellow out every frustration he’d held in for allowing you to slip away, each day as the urge melted away into dreams of you at night that woke him with a crater in his chest— maybe eventually it would fade just as you did.

“Try to get some rest, clear your mind. Do what you gotta do.” Gojo emphasized, leaning down to tower over his apprehensive prodigy with a knowing smile. His covered eyes flicked down to where Yuta’s fingers were rolling the beads of his colorful bracelet pensively. He hummed in amusement. “You know, I know someone who has that same bracelet.”

His student perked up ever so subtly upon hearing this. The prying man quickly moved to grasp his wrist and inspect the bracelet closer. It made Yuta feel exposed, wanting to crawl under his covers and not come out again if it meant no one else would lay their eyes on the one connection he still had to you. Gulping thickly, he snatched his wrist back, covering the wooden jewelry protectively under his other hand.

“Oh, you know her, don’t you?” Satoru feigned remembrance, snapping his fingers dramatically. “She used to go here.”

The stunned boy stammered out your name in question. It still felt so natural, so effortless rolling off of his tongue despite the prolonged period that had passed since he’d uttered those syllables.

“Yeah! Saw it on her just last week.”

All the blood seemed to drain from Yuta Okkotsu’s face. His wide, haunting eyes suddenly transfixed hazily on the smiling man before him in a manner that would have been terrifying had it been directed at a stranger. You still wore the bracelet he got you? The prospect had his mind spinning, and his stomach churning anxiously. The poor guy looked as though he would short circuit at any moment; brows twitching into a deep furrow, the corners of his lips fluttering in uncertainty. He blinked a few times before looking up at his sensei with a new sense of determination clouding his eyes.

“Where did you say she went?”

Bingo!

The clock’s ticking mocked you menacing as you raced to finish your assessment notes within the hour. Kaori was always merciful with you, understanding that you were still learning and would likely take more time with things, but you couldn’t help but urge yourself to do better.

It had been almost a year that you had been studying while working alongside the counselor, and you had blossomed in a way you never thought would have been possible. Granted, you weren’t able to do any of what you had lovingly labeled as ‘the fun stuff’ yet, you had adjusted surprisingly well to the countless intake assessments and documentation your mentor had entrusted you with. Of course, it wasn’t the same as having a second counselor there with her, but anything helped ease the weight of her overwhelming caseload. She knew it was good experience for you too.

Despite her hectic schedule, Kaori still found time to meet with you often to check in regarding the struggles that brought you to her in the first place, insisting it would be a crucial step in your training as well. Slowly but surely, you were beginning to rebuild that confidence in yourself and your own purpose in this monstrous world. It felt cathartic, being a part of the process of healing for those torn down by the very things that hurt you so long ago as well. It was meaningful— fulfilling.

You wondered if this was how Yuta felt when he was out there, helping people as well, just in his own way. A sharp pang struck you each time your mind wandered too far though, and you were always quick to reel it back in.

Your bottom lip was caught ruthlessly between your teeth, and it seemed the clacking of your keyboard was fighting against the ticking of the clock for dominance. A small spark of defeat struck you as you heard the door of the office creak open. Looking up at the time, your brows furrowed in confusion. You were sure that you had already completed the last intake Kaori had scheduled for you today. Scrambling into the drawer beside you to pull out a new form, you hoped you would at least look somewhat prepared whenever the unexpected patient came to your desk.

“Hi, there!” You called out from your tucked away cubicle, fumbling to save the document you were working on. “I’m back here, you can come on in.”

Slow footsteps approached closer and closer before pausing in front of your desk. Pushing the hair from your eyes, you looked up with a warm, inviting smile.

Oh.

The smile on your face slowly faded as Yuta Okkotsu towered over your desk. It wasn’t the version of him you once knew; this one was taller, more refined, more calculated with the manner in which he held himself. His wide, midnight-blue eyes regarded you carefully, but his face revealed nothing. Your mouth opened and closed pathetically, your mind desperately trying to catch up with the way your day had suddenly progressed. Stepping forward, he calmly sank down into the chair in front of you, hands gripping the arms casually.

“Yu—”

“I heard you offer counseling for sorcerers, right?” He was suddenly smiling sweetly at you, but there was a controlled glint in his eyes— holding him back. Not allowing you to respond, he continued. “Well, I have some things to get off my chest, so it’s lucky I found you, huh?”

You sank back into your chair, allowing the papers in your hands to slip from your fingers and swoosh softly onto the desk. Nodding gently, you urged him to go on, anxiety balling up in the pit of your stomach. He launched off on a long-winded story, one you already knew like the back of your hand— you lived it, after all. Your already knowing the climax didn’t stop the furious blush that overtook you as he recalled the letter he’d found in his dorm upon his arrival back to Tokyo.

“She always had this sweet way of signing off all her letters to me.” Yuta recounted with a soft smile, eyes glimmering as they looked back at you. Yours, on the other hand, were holding back the dam of tears that had been building up for countless months. As the first tear slipped down your cheek, you saw his resolve start to crumble, gaze chasing the drop as it raced down your skin. His bottom lip trembled. “She signed that last one— she signed it off ‘forever yours’, but I never saw her again.”

“Yuta—”

“Why didn’t you just tell me you weren’t happy?” He finally snapped, his own tears swimming in his eyes. Bracing his hands on the desk, he leaned forward desperately. “I would’ve understood, I would’ve—”

“I tried! I tried to tell you, but you were so sure that I was going to get through it. How was I supposed to look you in the eyes after you gave up so much of your life to train to be better? How was I supposed to tell you I was giving up?”

“You promised me!” His cry rang out in the quiet office, shoving his chair back to stand over you once again. You heard Kaori’s office door open abruptly, likely startled by the perceived altercation. Despite his dominating presence and lingering stance, you couldn’t find it in you to be intimidated by him. You shook your head softly toward your mentor, letting her know you were fine. As the door hesitantly shut once again, Yuta was sinking closer to you despairingly. “I would’ve come back for you— I wouldn’t have cared where I had to look, okay? I wouldn’t have cared that you left everything— but you weren’t supposed to leave me.”

His wounded tone finally caught up to you, and you let your head fall down onto your crumpled hands as you cried. Yuta sighed softly, almost regretting his stinging confession. Quickly looping around the desk, he settled down on his knees in front of you and turned you to face him.

“I’m sorry, Yuta.” You cried, falling into him as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you from your chair. He was stronger than you last remembered him being, but his touch was just as delicate. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Hey, it’s okay. We’re here now, right?” He assured gently, pulling you away from his chest so he could look at you with a smile, tears still clinging to his lashes. His cool hand ran down from your shoulder to your wrist, and he traced the bracelet that hadn’t come off your wrist since you received it. A soft flush covered his cheeks. “You kept it, huh?”

“You kept yours, too.” You laughed breathlessly, wiping at your cheeks with one hand and grasping his bracelet with the other.

“I told you, I always meant everything I said to you. I still do.” His words almost made you break down again, but you worried if you started boo-hoo crying again that Kaori might just burst through the door with more determination than she had last time.

So instead, you took a moment to glance over his matured face, shaking your head in amusement upon seeing those familiar dark circles still hanging under his eyes. Your heart clenched as your eyes ran across the small scar that Maki left on his forehead. When you met his gaze once again, it gave you pause. Yuta had that look in his eyes— the same one he had all those years ago before he left for Kenya. The rapid patter of your heart could be felt in your throat.

Despite your nerves, your lips twitched up into a knowing smile. You reached up tentatively to place a hand over your right eye, covering the scar that had stopped him all those years ago. He pursed his lips at this action and shook his head. In an instant, his long fingers were wrapping around your wrist to pull your hand away from your face.

“Don’t.” Yuta said simply before leaning down to capture your lips in his, more assuredly than his sixteen year old self ever could have dared to, but just as sweetly as the boy who promised to come back to you would have.

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Could you write one with Xavier where reader is a ghost and she's super shy so she stalks him in her invisible form trying to figure out a way to talk to him and he figures it out so he goes somewhere and masturbates trying to throw her off guard and then he just dominates her?? You can make it as kinky as you want

I See You

OKAY BUT I ACTUALLY HAD SO MUCH FUN WITH THIS IDEA AND I DO HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANON 🫶🫶

Summary: You’ve been following Xavier Thorpe around school for a few months now, and you like to believe you’re good at being invisible. You are a ghost after all.

Disclaimer ~ I do not support Percy Hynes White, this is about the character and not the actor.

WARNINGS! ~ Minors DNI | Oral {M} | Masturbation {M} | Fingering {F} | Use of words such as slut | PiV | Fluff at the end {reader is a bit worried}

You never liked being the centre of attention, you never saw the appeal. Whenever you had a birthday party (though you begged your parents not to have one) you always felt sick to the stomach because you felt countless eyes on you at all times.

It didn’t help that you had a massive crush on Xavier Thorpe, literally one of the cutest guys at Nevermore. He was also quite popular which was also a downside.

But there was just something about him that you couldn’t help but love, he was always so kind to you. When you did show yourself in the halls nobody really saw you anyway, except for him. Always waving or smiling as he walks by.

You know it’s probably not the best way to go around having a crush but you didn’t know how to talk to him but you liked seeing him so you used your abilities to..stalk him.

You hated the term really, it wasn’t like stalking in a creepy way more in an admirable way, although you supposed that’s how all stalkers felt.

Today was like any other. You finished your classes, went to your dorm and changed into your night gown and quickly ran out the door. You walked around the large school invisibly (literally and metaphorically) looking for any indications of where Xavier may be (you didn’t know where he would be at all times so obviously you’re not a stalker, right?) and as you turned the corner towards the Poe statue you see Xavier looking around making sure no people are around before snapping twice.

You stepped as quietly as you could quickly following Xavier down to the secret library. He walks down the stairs and leans against the shelving of the library.

He smirks to himself, why? You don’t know you walk closer to him, not much room between the two of you as he reaches down to palm himself through his sweatpants.

Your eyes widen as he leans his head back sighing as he pleasures himself. Your thighs clench on instinct. It was wrong to be watching him do this, hell it was wrong to be following him in the first place

‘Shit Y/N’

You gasp and his eyes shoot open as he smiles widely. He reached out grabbing your neck and pinning you against the shelves. Your invisibility is quickly gone. You stand there nervously, but also extremely turned on.

How did he know? You had been so careful around him while invisible.

‘I know you’ve been following me Y/N, god I’ve known for months. Trying to figure out how to catch you’ he smiles before removing his hand from your neck, his hands going to grip your hips tightly.

He kisses your neck, bites your neck, you can’t help but moan at the sensation. Your legs feel like jelly as he continues to leave marks all over your neck and collarbone.

‘Is this okay?’ He asks. He’s so sweet, even during (what you hoped would lead to) sex. You nodded looking into his eyes

‘Words princess’ he said tapping your left hip with his finger

‘Yes..please, please Xavier want it so bad’ you whined

He chuckles at your desperation taking a step back to get a view of you in your nightgown. He had to hold back a groan because of how sweet and delicate you looked.

You rubbed your thighs together again and he stepped forward to you again.

‘What d’you want princess?’ He asks dragging a hand up and down your thigh.

‘Want to um- want to-‘

‘Come on princess I know you can do it’

‘Iwanttosuckyourcock’

‘What was that?’ He asked knowing damn well what you said. You glared at him slightly as he just smiles back at you.

‘I..want to suck your cock’ you rush out once more. He chuckles before pulling his sweatpants and boxers down far enough so he could reveal his cock, it glistened with precum and you wondered if you really had the same effect as he did on you.

You wrap a hand around the base before licking a stripe up the underside of his cock. You look up at him through your lashes before taking him in your mouth inch by inch.

As you get to the base of his shaft you resist the urge to gag before he bucks into your mouth making you gag.

‘Oh princess I’m sorry’ he says, and although your eyes are blurry you can hear the smirk in his voice.

You take him in your mouth once again, this time not all the way, you take him in about halfway and begin bobbing your head. He moaned and you could’ve sworn he whimpered above you. You look up at him once again and he just looks so attractive like this.

‘Jesus Christ your mouth feels so good Y/N’

You bob your head more feverishly, you can tell he’s getting closer to the edge because he starts whimpering more.

Suddenly he pulls you off him and you look up at him confused. He grins at you before pulling you to your feet.

‘Don’t want to come in your mouth sweetheart’ he whispers into your ear. You shiver at the thought of feeling his cum coat your walls and moan quietly.

He lifts your night gown bunching it at your hips before looking at you once again

‘You still okay with this?’ He asks.

Remembering what he had said earlier you respond ‘yes, please Xavier’.

He smirks before looking down at your cunt.

‘No panties? God you’re such a slut princess’

You moan as he plunges a finger into your dripping heat. You throw your head back against the bookshelves once more.

He curls his fingers, it’s not enough. You need more

‘More Xavier, please’ you whimper. He looks up at you smirking before entering a second finger into you. You moan at the slight stretch, you realise only now that it’s been a while since you got yourself off.

‘Come on baby, wanna see how pretty you look when you cum on my fingers’ Xavier says kissing and biting your neck.

You feel your orgasm crashing over you with a loud moan, he continues to finger you, making it last as long as possible for you.

Once you come back down he removes his fingers and you moan as he sticks his fingers in his mouth. He groans at your taste before gripping your hips once more.

‘Need you to jump sweetheart’ he says and you do as he says jumping as one hand wraps around your ass. You never realised how strong he was. He aligns himself with your entrance. Looking up at you one more time and you nod in return.

He plunges himself into you inch by inch until you’re rested against the base of his cock. Your eyes sting at the stretch he creates, he leans in and kisses you softly. Oh my god, Xavier Thorpe is kissing you.

You start attempting to grind yourself against his dick and he takes it as you want him to move, so he does, ruthlessly.

He pounds into you at a fast pace and you can’t help but let out moans every time his dick hits that special place inside you.

‘God look at you. You’re such a slut, stalking me around the school just to get fucked in the secret library. What if somebody finds us? Oh but you’d like that wouldn’t you’

You can only nod as he continues to pound into you, loud slaps filling the library. He reaches down between the two of you and rubs at your clit.

You instinctively clench down and he groans loudly. Tears are streaming down your face as he continues to rub at your clit.

‘Close ‘m close Xavier’ you whine.

‘Cum, come on pretty girl I want you to cum all over my cock’ it was if a tsunami of pleasure washed over you. Your vision went white as you felt him spill into you.

You come down from your second orgasm and Xavier sets you down on your feet, smoothing down your night gown. You look up at him nervously and his eyebrows furrow with concern.

‘Was that a one time thing? Were you um, just using me to get off?’ You ask quietly.

He looks down at you and kisses your forehead.

‘Oh princess of course not, I do actually really like you’ he smiles.

‘Wait but how did you know I’ve been following you?’ You ask

‘You’re not very quiet pretty girl, you’re a bad ghost’ he smiles as you chuckle a little.

You go to take a step but your legs feel like jelly, he looks almost too proud as you glare up at him.

He bends to swiftly pick you up and carry you outside to his dorm.

He smiles as he watches your peaceful form drift off to sleep

A/N ~ Hope this was okay ! I think it’s pretty good for like my second smut ever !

Have a good day/night my loves <3

[russellsppttemplates]

She fits right in (Oscar Piastri)

You meet Oscar's family back home

Note: english is not my first language. I know I said write based on the order you send them in, but this one got priority for obvious reasons! 🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

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Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"How long is the layover?", you asked Oscar as you put your backpack on properly once you took off your cardigan since you felt quite hot, "three hours", he replied, "we can go to the lounge and have some food first, freshen up", he suggested.

"Uuuuhh, freshening up in a public bathroom before I meet your parents in your childhood home, charming - you didn't have to make it so easy for me, Osc", you offered, going up to him so he could lace your hand in his and guide you through the airport.

Even you though you had travelled to see a couple of races from the garage, you had always kept inside Europe so long hail flights like this weren't something you were used to. You felt tired, sweaty, a little bit dirty from touching things everywhere and overall not that great. Still, it was a privilege to feel like this because of the reasons you did.

You found yourselves a table and made your order, Oscar staying there while you freshened up in the bathroom. Baby wipes, deodorant, brushing your teeth and washing your face would have to do for now.

"Do you feel a little more human?", he asked you once you sat back down, kissing his cheek soflty as he forwarded you your iced latte.

"Yes, actually I do", you snickered, taking a sip before speaking again, "are you sure your parents are fine with this whole arrangement?", you wondered.

"They're fine with it, you shouldn't be nervous, they already like you", he reassured. You had met his parents briefly when they travelled to see him race in Silverstone, but with the whole event taking up the schedule, you got to know eachother on a somewhat superficial level. Still, if the first impression was that good, it was a nice start.

"I'm not nervous nervous - at least not in the way I think I'd be, but is probably the jet lag and my body can't afford to have a freak out right now", you joked.

The last flight was spent with you sleeping on Oscar, arm rest up while you were cuddled up to his side, head nuzzled on his neck while he watched something to keep himself entertained and not get lost on his thoughts.

His family's opinion mattered to him and he was nervous to truly hear it. Not because of you - he was sure you were going to do brilliantly, but it wouldn't be the first time in history where seeing things up close, whether it was the lifestyle associated or being faced with what staying in a relationship looked like in the long run, made people leave. His parents had met your briefly before and now you were being introduced to everyone else. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, the neighbour he knew growing up. Everyone's eyes would be on you, and so would their opinions.

Rubbing your cheek softly, Oscar coaxed you out of sleep, "we're about to land, gorgeous, you might want to pop your ears", he muttered as you blinked your eyes open, kissing his palm before sitting up straight, doing as he told you before you fixed your hair, "do I look nice enough?", you wondered.

"You always look gorgeous", he assured, kissing your cheek softly.

You boarded off the plane and walked to the customs service, "they're quite quick at this time of year since a lot of people travel foe the race", Oscar explained as you were quickly checked before you walked to baggage claim, getting your suitcases and stopping twice to take photos Oscar's fans asked once they noticed it was him, "we're counting on a good race for you!", they wished as you smiled, handing them the phone back and waving once you walked to the spot Chris said him and Nicole would be waiting for you in the parking lot.

"How was your flight, dears?", Nicole was the first to speak as she embraced her son, followed by Chris.

"It was good, didn't have much turbulence", Oscar said as he saw your mother engulf you in a hug.

"It was nice, yes", you smiled, "very tiring getting to the land down under, I have to admit", you chuckled.

"Oh, that it is! Last time we did it, I felt so dirty I immediately went to the bathroom to shower once we got home", she giggled.

"I might actually do that, if you don't mind - my whole body just feels icky", you admitted, knowing you had arrived at early hours in the morning already and you shouldn't make much noise to the people who wanted to sleep.

"Of course it's fine! C'mon, let's pack the car and head home!", Chris encouraged you as he put the luggage on the car trunk while you got inside the car.

By the time you got home, Nicole encouraged you to head straight for the shower you so much needed while Oscar got something to eat. When you exited the ensuite bathroom, your boyfriend was unpacking his own suitcase.

"If you don't mind, I'll unpack those tomorrow? Or in the morning? What time is it already?", you muttered as he had closed the blinds, leaving the room completely dark with only the bedside lamp on.

"It's fine, love", he smiled, kissing the top of your head, "you smell nice", he chuckled, squeezing your waist softly before he went to have a shower.

Maybe it wasn't the most polite, but this was going to be your room for the next couple of days considering you had flown in early so Oscar could spend as much time as he could with his family, so you undid the bed. The fresh sheets enveloped you as you tied your hair in a messy bun just to get it away from your eyes.

The last thing you remember coherently is Oscar laying next to you, pulling you to cuddle up to him and kissing your forehead sweetly with a "Goodnight, my love".

You woke up a few hours later, looking at your watch and see that it was already past midday and you were in bed, "morning", you heard Oscar's groggy morning voice whisper into your back, littering kisses on your shoulders.

"Hey", you smiled, turning around and seeing his handsome smiley face, "it's the afternoon already", you pointed out.

"It usually is when I wake up after coming back home", he shrugged his shoulders, "my parents are used to it. Also, they said they'd be having lunch at my grandma's, so they're not home - it's probably why it's so quiet".

"Do they want us to meet them there?", you wondered, not wanting to part your boyfriend from his family.

"We can if you don't mind", he added, "you could meet my grandma, too!", he tried to see if you felt comfortable with it.

"Yes! Let me just get ready quickly!", you smiled, pecking his lips and leaving the bed.

"Why so excited?", Oscar asked as you were leaving his parents' house after having something quick to eat and you got your latte.

"You have told me many stories from your grandma and grandma's house is always the best!", you winked at him before you wiggled your brows.

"What do you mean it's always the best?", he quirked a brow.

"Grandma's are the ones who have the best photo collections in the family - C'mon Oscar, it's going to be so fun!", you joined your hands together in a cartoon villain like way, fingertips touching as you made a mischief expression.

"Did Lando set you up for this?", Oscar said as he unlocked the car.

"Yes! The more I get, the more Quadrant hoodies he says he'll get me!", you winked, pulling his arm to the car so he could drive you both to his grandparents' house.

"Can we come in?", Oscar announced as you both walked in through the back door, seeing his parents sat at the table while an older lady was doing something at the kitchen counter.

"Oscar, my love!", she yelled, wiping her hands on the nearest kitchen towell before she threw herself at her grandson, hugging him tightly while you greeted Oscar's parents briefly.

"And this is the young woman who stole Oscar's heart, how are you, sweetheart? You're very welcomed here!", she said, pulling you in for a tight hug immediately.

"I'm Y/N, thank you for welcoming me into your home, it's beautiful", you smiled warmly.

"Have you two had something to eat? I can make you something quickly if you'd like!", she asked and you both shook your head, "I'm good, but thank you".

"I was actually getting ready to make some Lamingtons and some Rum Balls, too. Y/N, has Oscar ever baked them for you?", she mused.

"No, I don't think he has", you looked at him for confirmation as he shook his head, blush erupting on his cheeks, "I would never make them as good as yours!", he defended himself.

"Well, darling, I'm going to make some for you too then!", she smiled.

"I'd love to help if you want a hand, maybe then I'll pester Oscar to make them for me back home", you smiled.

"Oh, good! Let's get started then!", she exclaimed, getting you an apron and guiding you through the recipe.

"You can beat these while I measure the flower", she delegated, "it has to be very fluffy so the sponge is firm enough", she advised as you beat the contents inside the bowl.

"How is that going?", Oscar asked coming up from behind you as you were transferring the batter to the lined tin.

"I need to use the bathroom, dear, but when you finish that, can you put it in the oven and take the other one, please?", she questioned, "this way we'll have a new batch to work with everytime", she smiled before excusing herself.

"How is she really doing with you?", your boyfriend waited for a honest answer.

"It's been really fun, truly! She's been telling me stories about when she was younger and what growing up here was like, she fed me some of those things, those rolled up things", you pointed at the plate on the counter.

"Those are rum balls! Love, you don't even like rum!", he pinched your cheek before you out the tray in the oven.

"I wasn't going to break her heart and tell her no, and they're not that bad! Just not my favourite things ever!", you reasoned with him, wiping your hands on the kitchen towell, "but it's been good, she's very lovely - and I am this close at getting to your baby stories", you pinched your thumb and poster finger together.

"You're impossible", he chuckled, stealing a kiss from your lips before his grandma got back.

"She's a lovely girl, Oscar", his mother said as she sat down next to him on the chair on the decking outside as they saw his father gather the supplies for a barbecue. His grandmother suggested and afternoon barbecue for when you were done with baking.

"I'm very happy I brought her home to meet everyone", Oscar smiled, "she's really one of a kind".

"Is she dealing well with all of this? I'm sure she's not used to it", Nicole wondered, "people taking pictures, interrupting your day to day lives, you're not always there for her", she trailed off.

"Well, neither am I, right?", Oscar chuckled, "I think she's been doing well, we speak about it every now and again to check and make sure we're both well with all of it. We don't post eachother much, that's been helpful, and she has all her social media private".

"It's nice, she's an incredible young woman, and you two are so great together", Nicole complimented.

"I think I was more nervous to come out here than her, to be honest", Oscar said, prompting his mother to raise her eyebrows, "not because of her! I was nervous because she's the first person I've brought home - like, home home - and I didn't know how you would react with her being here and everything. It's not like it's a dinner and she can run away or leave for her own place if she feels uncomfortable or if you guys didn't like her", he trailed off the last part.

His family's opinion mattered to him, and as romantic as it often sounded in movies, he wasn't sure how he would proceed if his family strongly felt against your relationship.

"Well, on our end, we're fine", his mother nudged his shoulder, "she's so lovely, Oscar, you would be a fool if you let her get away from you. She's smart, caring, loving - she fits quite well with grandma", she pointed to you two with her eyes as the older lady taught you how to dip the cake in the chocolate and then the coconut, laughing together as you seemed to get more on your hands than on the actual sweet food, "she loves you dearly, I can tell. Of course we approve. But, if she wants to make a run for it, well - that's going to be a little bit tricky at the very least", she joked as she saw her mother help you with a kitchen towell, "though that doesn't look like it's going to be anytime soon".

You fit right in with his family and he couldn't be happier.