#and celebrates with her when it seems like everything is going great

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Sasha in highschool biting her tongue and clenching her fists and smiling as she helps Anne get with Marcy despite the distance because she loves them both so much and wants them to be happy despite how much it kills her.

[mywritersmind]

COOLDOWN - LN4&OP81

summary : Locked in a cooldown room with two teammates in orange is not how you expected to be celebrating your win. Definitely not expected, but welcomed.

listen up : smut!! taking abt threats. under lockdown, p in v. oral (m receiving), threesome, not proofread!!!!! i hope this is hot idk

words : 2547

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The three of you have been stuck for almost an hour. When the cameras cut out, so did the lights, then the doors locked and each of you got a million alerts to stay put.

Some threat was made, apparently a big one because the whole paddock is in lockdown just after the race ended. As scary as it sounds, you’re not worried.

The cooldown room is arguably the best place to be stuck. A backup light that drapes the room in a hazy yellow glow, No media, No fans, and two drivers in bright orange slumped in their chairs.

You can tell Lando is the most bored, stretching every five seconds and saying random things to try and start conversation.

Oscar is on the other side of you, his race suit matching Lando’s down the way they have it undone. His hair is a mess still, his hands behind his head and making you peak at his accentuated back.

The two men have been in your life for a year now, both too intrigued for their own good. “Have you guys ever had sex in a car?” Lando turns his head to both of you, getting to a certain point of insanity especially because how good you both look in his eyes.

“Us…?” Oscar says questionably.

Lando rolls his eyes, pulling off his cap and throwing it at his teammate, “No you muppet. Separately.” he smirks just as a rogue curl falls onto his forehead, “Unless…”

“Yeah.” Oscar answers quickly, hoping to shut him up, “Not with her.”

“Have you?” You can’t help but ask, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at the dark haired driver.

“I asked first.” he shoots back, something dancing in his eyes that tell you keep going, while everything inside you screams to stop.

“I crossed the finish line first.” You tilt your head, a slick reminder of why you’re sitting between the two.

They’d been in your rear view the whole race, swapping positions and fighting for that top step. They’d had a bad feeling just after lap one, as if they were in sync in realizing that you were not going to give either the chance to even try to fight you.

“Then cut me some slack, winner.”

Your eyes narrow, “I don’t like the idea of you knowing anything about my sex life.”

He just smirks, shrugging as if you’re the best of friends. “Seems great to me.”

You run your tongue over your teeth, giving in, more interested in his answer than yours. “Yes.”

“Damn.” He mumbles, “I feel left out.”

Oscar looks genuinely surprised at this, his brows furrowing as he leans forward in his chair, “You’ve never had sex in a car?”

You laugh, “That’s surprising.”

Lando’s jaw drops, letting out a scoff, “Why?”

You bite back a smile, eyeing Oscar who’s already looking at you. “You seem like the guy to christen a new car with an orgasm.” Oscar laughs at this, leaning back in his chair while Lando grins.

“Maybe I'll start.” He shrugs, moving his arms to drape over the back of the chair.

The younger of team Mclaren runs a hand over his face, “If we ever get out of here.”

“You offering, Piastri?” You can’t help but joke, the man eyeing you with no change in his expression except a quirk of his brow.

You stare at each other for one, weighted second, the silence being broken by Lando who’s seemingly taken the role of entertainer, “Where’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?”

“Are these all going to be related to sex?” Oscar pauses to ask his friend.

“Answer it, Osc.” Lando finds himself grinning now, looking at Oscar’s sudden shift in manner.

“It can’t be that crazy.” You say, shifting to the side and starting to get uncomfortable in the race suit.

“I don’t know… Oscar’s pretty freaky.” Lando says, looking directly at Oscar with a sneaky look in his eye.

You turn to him, raising a brow and not missing the way he smirks, “Speaking from experience?”

They both go quiet. Now this… you didn’t expect.

“Holy shit, have you guys fucked?” You laugh out loud. Wow, and you thought this day couldn’t get any better.

“No.” Oscar replies just as Lando shakes his head, “No way.”

You narrow your eyes at both of them, “But something has happened… right?” Lando shifts in his seat while Oscar just looks at the floor, “Don’t be shy. From what i’ve heard- it’s a common occurrence in teammates. Late nights… long meetings… hotel rooms…” They glance at each other. Oscar blushes. “I’m totally right, aren’t I?”

“So what, you’re fucking Verstappen then?”

You scoff, “I don’t do guys with children under twenty.” Lando is about to go back to your comment but you speak first, “Let me guess. Jacking eachother off? Or in the same room? Celebratory blow jobs? Don’t tell me you’ve shared a girl-”

“If we say yes will you stop?” Oscar has his head in his hands, his voice muffled and your smile growing.

“Which one?” You're pushing their limits but you don’t care.

Lando eyes you, “We’ve never shared a girl.” Oscar is shaking his head which still resides in his hands, the tips of his ears pink.

“You’ve done everything else?” Suddenly the room gets very hot- or maybe that’s just you. The thought of the two of them, desperate and needing each other, makes you squeeze your thighs together.

You hadn't realized that Oscar took his head out of his hands, his eyes blaring into you now and reading you like a fucking book.

“I had sex on a ferris wheel.” You say, desperate to change the subject suddenly.

“Jet ski. We flipped.” Lando says, looking at Oscar and tapping his foot.

“Principal's office.” He bites out, “Lost my virginity there.”

“I always knew I liked you.” You grin, tapping your nail on the armrest.

Lando cuts in, “How about another game? Truth or dare?”

You cross your legs and nod, “Truth.”

“Hottest guy on the grid.”

“It isn’t between you two… if that’s what you’re hoping.”

He shrugs, “Just hoping for truth.”

“Sainz.”

Lando scoffs, “He’s not even-”

“Hey! You asked for the truth.” Oscar laughs, making you look at him, “Something funny?”

“No, I agree.”

“What!?” Lando says soundly, “Hold on a second-”

“It’s the hair right!?”

He nods, “Body too.”

“I hate you both.”

“You’re a horrible liar, Lan.” Oscar says and it’s one of those moments when you remember how close the actually are.

Your mind goes straight back to them hooking up.

“So are you!” He argues, “Rivalry’s aren’t as hot as you think.”

“Truth or dare, Lando.” You say, an idea already in your head which is completely dependent on how reckless Lando is feeling today.

“…Dare.”

Oscar shakes his head, as if he knows what’s coming.

You just smirk. “Kiss Oscar.”

He doesn’t look worried, if anything, he looks pleased. Lando stands and as you motion Oscar to get up, he sends you an annoyed look. He’s not fooling either of you because as soon as Lando pulls him in for the kiss, Oscar definitely isn’t complaining.

You’re staring up at them. It’s probably the most insane thing you’ve ever seen, but then again, it seems so fitting. Lando holds the back of Oscar’s neck as if he’s done this a million times, he probably has.

Your mouth is slightly open, watching Oscar’s tongue meet Lando’s in a sensual and slow type of need.

Lando pulls away first, plopping down onto the floor and using his chair as a headrest, “Happy?”

“Horny?” Oscar coughs, looking directly at you when he does it. “Truth or dare, Y/n?”

The air is thick with tension, the faded light making both of them glow as they watch you. You say it confidently, “Dare.” but as soon as you see Lando’s smirk, your heart rate rises.

“Kiss one of us.”

It’s simple- it’s payback. It’s something that you can’t do. “No.”

“You’re chickening out?” Lando says.

“No, as in, I'm not choosing.” You shrug, unzipping your suit a bit more, “You pick.” They look at eachother, then you.

“Unfair.”

“Why? You both want me that bad?” You say it as a joke, carrying out the words with a laugh. They’re not laughing.

It’s Oscar who’s brave enough to say it, “Yeah,” he glances at Lando, “we do.”

“I-” none of the drivers have shown interest. Maybe it’s because of professionalism, maybe it’s because you’re too new and too female. This… is dangerous territory. “Arm wrestle.”

It seemed ridiculous at first, to them at least. But one end goal was always in your mind, and that is not having to choose one.

They’re up in a second, standing on either side of the table mounted to the wall’s corner. You stand, watching them lean over and join hands.

“We’re really doing this?” Oscar tilts his head at his teammate who purses his lips and nods towards you, theirs eyes still on eachother.

“Look at her.” When he does, every part of you feels it. Oscar Piastri never gives a meaningless look, that’s what worries you.

Lando’s hand is bigger than Oscar’s. Even though the three of you haven’t been close, it's something you’ve seen repeatedly either in real life or on social media. Maybe you’ve thought about it repeatedly too.

Both of their arms flex, fighting for dominance when you’re a bit distracted by their hands.

You roll your eyes when they take too long, sitting in Lando’s place on the floor and appraising the rest of them. Oscar’s taller, bigger… but Lando’s got the energy to overpower him even if he’s a brat.

Lando wins, locking his wrist and pinning his teammate's hand to the table, “Shit.” Oscar mumbles, stretching out his arm afterwards.

Lando scrambles to get next to you, waiting with puppy dog eyes and his face close to yours. You laugh, looking at Oscar who shrugs, sitting across from you both and nodding at you to kiss him.

God. That race now feels like fucking foreplay.

You kiss him soft, sweet. You kiss him like he’s the only thing in the world and the second his hand meets your waist, you stop. Lando pouts, a look that gets turned into confusion as you sit up and turn your attention to Oscar.

“I hate choosing.” Is all you say before crawling to the second man in orange and pulling him in. You can tell he’s trying to be soft, but you don’t want that for him. You grab his face and kiss him harder, feeling his hand on your ass and letting it stay there.

You hear Lando whine behind you as you straddle Oscar, hear Oscar groan as you grind into him.

Oscar’s lips meet your neck, allowing you the flexibility to look back at Lando. His hand is palming his underwear, his suit to his knees and his mouth slightly opened.

It’s so hot and so fucking dirty that you kiss Oscar again. “C’mon…” Lando whines, “I won the arm wrestling. I beat him in the race. I deserve it more.” he cuts right to the chase.

You pull away from Oscar who immediately works on pulling down your suit. “You’re a brat.”

Oscar pulls it off, only fireproofs and your pink lace thong left. They both groan.

You’re still on Oscars lap, his lips on your neck as you beckon Lando over. He comes right up to your face, trying to kiss you and getting rejected by a whispered, “You jealous?”

He nods, just nods.

Oscar cuts in now, “Of which one of us.”

Lando looks at you. Then Oscar. His eyes flicking between the two people who are responsible for his hard on. “Both.”

You kiss him then, hand going straight for his dick while simultaneously grinding on Oscars. “I think I dreamt about this once.” Lando mumbles into the kiss, making you and Oscar both laugh.

“Wanna check off that last thing on the list?” You ask, your mind consumed with the two men in front of you and how they would feel in you.

They both nod, Lando pulling off his fireproof as if it’s betraying him. Their lips meet in a strangled messy way, unconsciously moving your hips over Oscar again while Lando, fully distracted, tries to pull your top off.

“Want some help with that?” you say in a breathy voice, watching Lando twitch under his underwear.

“Thought that was my job.” Oscar says, smirking as Lando pulls out his dick, clearly not caring who helps. He’s standing in between you and with one wink, you and Oscar lick the sides of his cock.

He grabs your hair, Oscar’s shoulder, practically begging already. You take him fully in your mouth before Oscar can say anything about it. The feeling of rocking against a clothed, hard dick while having another one in your mouth is something you will never forget.

You feel your panties getting pushed aside, Oscar’s fingers, slim but mighty, slide into you with a choked groan. It’s a mess of wet and needy people wanting each other, Oscar taking over for Lando while still fingering you.

You pull Oscar’s dick out, too needy when his fingers leave you to meet Lando’s mouth. He’s hard as a rock, bigger than Lando but slimmer, making you practically scream when you sink down on him.

He moans on Lando’s dick, a sound so erotic that you could come right then and there. “Holy fuck.” Lando’s legs are shaking, his eyes meeting yours as he cums in Oscar's mouth.

Lando kneels again, kissing you hard and fast while Oscar, his mouth a bit sticky, throws his head back. Lando pulls your shirt up, kissing on your tits while you bounce up and down. You reach for his dick, it twitching and partially hard already.

“Take me so well…” Oscar groans, kissing you sloppily.

“So hot.” Lando groans, “I call next.” You don’t wait for you or Oscar to finish, rising up so the sudden feeling of him makes you feel empty.

You’ve got your sights set on Lando, ready to really see who can beat you in something, when someone bangs on the door.

You freeze. The lights are on. When did the lights come on?

“How are you three doing in there? Unlock the door. Situations over. Podiums still on.”

You all three swear. You get your clothes back on first, Lando and Oscar far slower and more obviously turned on.

“We can’t go out like this-” Oscar tries to readjust his hard and dripping dick.

“That’s what you’re worried about? You were inside of her and I was so close-” Oscar slaps the back of Lando’s head as he zips up his suit.

“That’s one way of letting the time pass.” You breathe out, brushing down your hair and smiling.

Lando groans, “Unfair- you look perfect. You’re fucking glowing! We’re fucking blue balled and a mess.”

“Have fun out there.” You drift your hand over Lando’s chin, fixing Oscar’s hair, “Drown me in champagne and pretend it’s cum.”

You unlock the door, practically skipping out and leaving them with their dicks hard, lips read, and jaws on the floor.

[szatears]

Girl dad smoke (taking care of wife a daughter)

mini hustler, smoke.

summary: smoke was never one to be picky about what gender child he wanted to raise when the time came, but it seemed that the universe had a plan of its own, and he was made to be a girl dad.

pairings: smoke x blackfem!reader, dad!smoke.

warnings: descriptions of reader, use of the n word, descriptions of pregnancy, established relationship, maybe some ooc smoke?

notes: okay i know this was sent in bc i asked for modernau reqs but i feel like i can write this better for the actual sinners universe smoke... :)))

You let out a hum of contentedness, leaning your head back against your husband's shoulders. His arms were wrapped securely around your waist as you both lounged on the outdoor settee, taking in the Mississippi sunset before you. His hands rested on your growing stomach, thumbs stroking gentle patterns.

You were almost six months along in your pregnancy, and Smoke had been with you every step of the way, as he had promised you when you first announced the news to him.

"You know," you broke the comfortable silence. "I think we're having a boy. He sits so low, 'n all the ladies say that means it's a boy."

"Stop calling my daughter a boy," he mumbled with a kiss to your temple, smiling when you let out a laugh.

"You mind what we have?" you asked.

He shook his head no. "Long as they healthy and grow up to be that 'n happy, I'on really mind."

You smiled at his words, placing your palms on top of his hands.

Life as an expecting mother was going by a lot faster than you imagined. One day you were with your mother picking out materials to make baby clothes from, the next you were sitting back relaxing as Smoke, Stack and Sammie attempted to build a baby crib.

"It don't look right," Smoke frowned. He stood behind you, arms wrapped around your stomach like they always were whenever he was around you lately.

"Man, how else it's supposed to look?" Sammie huffed, and you laughed. They'd been at it since the early morning and it was almost four o'clock now.

"Not like that, nigga. Why it only got three legs?"

"'Cause we're not fuckin' done with it yet, bruh. Chill, goddamn." Stack kissed his teeth, and you took that as your queue to get them something to drink, leaving them to bicker amongst themselves.

Your growing family was everything to you, and your heart warmed at every moment they spent tending to you and your unborn child. That was, when Smoke let them get close to you.

Smoke was already overprotective of you. but you when carrying his unborn child? It's like people needed permission to even breathe near you.

He needed you in his eyesight at all times or he'd start going insane. Never wanted you to do any heavy lifting, or even lift a finger if it was something he could handle.

"Whatchu doin' that for?" he'd scold you when he caught you about to step on a dining room chair to grab a box of your things from the top shelf.

"Elijah, I could've gotten that," you smiled sheepishly when his hand held your waist to place you back down on the ground, picking the box up for you.

"Yeah well, you ain't need to do all that when I'm right here," he kissed your cheek, sitting down on the chair with you in his lap as you opened up the box, revealing things from your childhood.

All this never phased you, if anything, it just solidified the feeling you had that he would make such a great father.

─── ༉‧₊˚✧ ───

"Stack, you drop her an' I swear to God, we gon' fight," Smoke mugged his brother as he played with his daughter, throwing her up into the air and catching her again.

"Man, move. I'm not gonna." Stack kissed his teeth, tickling his niece.

Three years ago, you gave birth to your daughter, Amaya Marie, and ever since, she'd been such a light in your life. Today, everyone was celebrating her birthday at yours and Smoke's house, the bustling sounds of laughter and chatter all around you.

You could hear her giggles as she played around with her Uncle Stack, the only important thing at the moment being that she was happy.

"She's fine, stop worrying," you brought your hands to either side of your husband's face, literally smoothing away his frown as you caressed his skin. He hummed, tearing his eyes away from his daughter to look at you, kissing your lips thrice.

Amaya had changed Smoke's life in ways he didn't even know could be changed. He found himself having a new purpose in life, catering for both you and her. Everything he did was for the both of you, making sure she didn't grow up to know the life of hardship and struggles.

She may have had your eyes and nose, but her personality? Oh boy, that was growing to be all Smoke. He spoiled her, as you often complained, but that didn't stop him from doing it.

Every new dress, new toy, new hair clip had her fawning over her father even more.

"Daddy look!" Amaya came running towards you both, as fast as her little legs could carry her. Smoke pulled away from you to pick her up and your eyes widened as she waved her hand in your face, showing off a crisp $10 bill.

"The hell?" you mumbled, looking at Smoke who just shrugged at you.

"Where'd you get this from, baby?" he asked Amaya, kissing her cheek over and over.

"From Uncle Stack," she managed to say through her giggles as Smoke tickled her.

You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing that if it wasn't Smoke giving her money, then it definitely was one of her uncles.

Just like her daddy, Amaya had grown to be quite the negotiator at just three years old.

"Is that right?" Smoke smiled, a little idea forming in his mind. "You wanna get some more?"

Amaya nodded, waving the bill around in her hand. He adjusted her in his arm, his free hand taking a hold of yours, leading you to sit down at the table with the rest of the ladies, Pearline handing you a cool glass of lemonade as you sat down.

"Say bye to mama," Smoke brought her closer to your face, and you smiled when she kissed your cheek, waving goodbye.

"Don't hurt my baby, Elijah," you warned him, taking a sip of the drink in front of you. He waved you off, walking away from you and towards where Stack, Sammie and them were, beers in their hands as they stood around laughing.

The smile on Stack's face grew when he saw two of his favourite people approaching him. "Wassup lil' bit?" He ruffled the top of Amaya's head, messing up her curls.

"Now, you know damn well Y/N gon' get you for doing that," Smoke swatted his brother's hand away, trying to fix his daughter's hair. "Heard you gave lil' miss some money."

"Yeah, she deserves it." Stack smiled.

Smoke nodded, looking down at Amaya you was already looking up at him like he hung the planets and stars in the sky. "Go 'head baby, just like we practiced before," he whispered to her.

Amaya nodded, turning around in her father's arms. "This ain't gonna work, Uncle Stack," she spoke clearly, waving the money in his face now.

Stack paused mid sip, furrowing his brows. "Whatchu mean by that?"

"I mean," Amaya huffed. "This isn't enough."

Stack cut his eyes to his brother, who held a proud smirk on his face as he looked back at him. "Girl, it's $10, that's plenty for you."

"Nuh uh," Amaya shook her head, earning a laugh from Sammie. Who handed off the music to Slim so he could join the conversation.

"Say Stack, you gettin' pressured by a youngin'?" he laughed, dodging when Stack stuck his arm out at him.

"Aight then," he bent down to Amaya's height in his brother's arms. "Name your price."

Amaya thought hard for a moment. "A hundred."

Stack let out a loud laugh, and even Smoke chuckled at that. "Girl, I said name a price, not be delusional. Must get that from your mother," he mumbled the last part, but Smoke heard loud and clear, punching Stack's shoulder. "It was a fucking joke, my God."

"Try a lil' lower baby. Don't lowball though, that's how you get 'em to take you serious," Smoke encouraged her, rubbing her arm soothingly. She nodded, turning back to her uncle.

"40."

"20."

"40."

"25."

"50."

"Aight, I'll give you forty, stop this madness," Stack huffed, opening his wallet as Amaya turned to Smoke.

"I did good?"

"You did great baby," he kissed both her cheeks as Stack handed his niece the money.

"We gotta take her with us one day, almost had me emptying my pockets." Stack watched as she ran over to her mother with all her money, smiling when she looked their way.

"Man, shut up."

taglist. @childishgambinaax @abriefnirvana @blackisy2k @chrisevansmentee @siasoup @amethyst09 @heauxtales @skywalker0809 @thelightknight21 @klssngss @atomicearthquakemusic7 @oc3anbxbyxoxo @honestlyurslol @simpingfor-wakasa @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @favoritten @christinabae @junkie05 @gyattttsblog @jackierose902109 @rose-bliss @jexireads @queenofklonnie22 @tatertooted

[a99jazzybean]

HIIIII! I just binge read your date everything fics and I love them! May i ask for yet another Chance fic, where y/n is familiar with g&g and used to play with their friends from time to time - using his dice of course! And... y/n used to kiss the piece for the "lucky shot", doesn't matter if it worked or not. So now, with Skylars help, y/n can speak with him and even play a session or two and it is so much fun! But she is completely oblivious to the fact that he remembers every time y/ns lips touched his dice-y form and each time he silently yearns for her lips to touch him once again... The rest is up to you, lots of love!

I love this prompt so much! Thank you for the request!

With a Taste of Your Lips...

Part 2

synop: You and Chance decide to play another session of G&G. Little do you know, a special tradition of yours has him feeling all sorts of hot and bothered. i.e. You discover Chance can feel when you kiss his die.

words: 4.7K

includes: chancexfem!reader, ttrpg playing, making out, fondling an object?, cumming untouched kinda, smut

a/n: I might make a part 2 to this one, thoughts? Also, its got smut. No minors!

“You feel yourself growing weaker. The spell the lich cast on you drains your life force. All of your comrades are downed. You are their final hope.” Your GM stares you down, brow raised. “What would you like to do?”

Looking around the table you see all of your friends' faces are grim. All eyes are on you. Taking a look at the battlemap before you, your eyes widened. 

“Past the cliff, it’s the Abysmal Pit, correct?” You asked the GM. 

“Correct.”

“And anyone who falls in is erased from existence, right?

“Correct.”

“No!” Sam shouted. “I know what you’re thinking. You can’t do it!”

You give her a solemn look, eyes filled with sadness. 

“I’m sorry.” You pick up your red D20. “But you can’t stop me. I’m going for a grapple on the lich, then I’m dragging him over the edge with me.” 

A chorus of gasps erupts from your party members. Some are getting teary-eyed. 

Two years of a campaign filled with adventure, friendship, romance, and tears. This is how it ends. Perhaps it was destined to be. 

“Make your roll.” Your GM feels tears prick in their own eyes. Not knowing whether they want you to succeed on this or not. 

As is tradition on major rolls, you bring your trusty die to your lips. Pecking it softly, you pray that this works. 

“Lucky shot,” you hear Sam say under their breath. 

Cupping the die in your hands, you give a good shake. Then you release it onto the table. Everyone in the room is holding their breath as it rolls. Finally, it stops. Natural 20. 

Normally, the table would erupt with cheers. This time, it wasn’t proper to celebrate. 

“Prim,” your GM took in a shaky breath as he spoke your character’s name. Trying to hold back tears. “You muster up the final dregs of strength within you. Pulling yourself up with a groan. Everything hurts, but your mind has been made up. Pushing through it all, you start to run. Taking one final look at your fallen teammates. This is the last time you will see them. Tell me how this ends.” Their voice wavered. 

“As I run toward the lich, I let out a final ‘goodbye’. I grab it around the waist, then throw both of us off of the ledge. No matter what it does I keep ahold of it. It’s coming with me.” Your own eyes fill with tears. 

“As you fall, the lich tries to get you off of it, but to no avail. For a brief moment you can see a flash of its past humanity. Fear filling its face as it realizes the one thing that it tried to run from has finally arrived. Death in the shape of a half-elf rogue who risked it all to defeat it.”

Chance sighed dreamily, remembering your great sacrifice. Seemed like you frequently played characters that laid their life on the line. No wonder he was absolutely smitten.

While you weren’t able to see his personified form at the moment, he was able to see you. Back hunched over as you typed on Mac. The computer feeling pretty good about themselves as you cranked out your latest self-insert fanfic. What else were you supposed to do when an AI took over your job? 

Chance wasn’t able to see what you were writing, but could see Mac occasionally blush and chuckle at the words you were typing onto them. 

“Care to share?” He asked the computer. 

Mac glanced over at him, then back to one of the screens in front of them. 

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. She’s kind of mortified that I’ve even read this stuff.” Mac turned back to read what you had just typed out, red blooming on their face. “Yeah, no. You don’t need to know about this.” 

Chance grumbled to himself. It didn’t feel fair that Mac got to see the sexiest innermost thoughts of yours. Actually, he was kind of jealous of many of your objects. Betty slept with you every night, witnessing the limited sexual exploits of yours. Johnny, he wouldn’t talk about it, too much of a gentleman. But the massage setting on his shower head? He might have alluded to activities you had accomplished with that. 

It was frustrating to say the least. Seeing how much better the other beings in the home got to know you intimately. All Chance wanted was a taste of that knowledge. 

He hoped you’d put your Dateviators back on again. Now that you had been able to see him, all he wanted was your attention. It didn’t help that you enthusiastically offered to play G&G with him. Only feeding into the ever-growing obsession with you. 

It didn’t start when you put those glasses on, no. It started when you came up with that damned tradition. Kissing the 20 side of his die body. You didn’t know, couldn’t know, really. But he felt it, every single time. It was special, something you only did when making a major roll. And you always picked him. Your “lucky shot” for your “lucky die”. 

The thing was, you hadn’t ended that tradition. When you began playing with Chance, you continued to make your lucky shots. Not realizing that although the personified version was sitting in front of you, Chance was still very much connected to the object he was. He would have you roll on something difficult, and as if it were instinct, you pressed your soft lips right on the20 side. Thankfully, Chance had been able to maintain his composure as you watched the die roll. However, it was beginning to become too much. 

Each press of your lips to the die had him falling for you harder and harder. 

With a sigh, you pushed away from your computer. Eyeing the die beside you with a smirk. Tapping on the desk, your gaze flitted over to your glasses. It had been a few hours since you had them on, couldn’t hurt to say hi to your office. And there might have been a specific object that held your affections.

“You know. I can feel you looking at me, right?” You teased the die before putting on the Dateviators. 

Chance’s face was ruddy when you looked at him, caught red handed. Rubbing his neck sheepishly, he gave you an apologetic look.

“What can I say? You’re nice to look at.” 

Now it was your turn to blush. The damned man always seemed to fluster you in such innocuous ways. Somehow always polite with his flirting. 

There were times he could be fairly forward, but he never pushed. It was sweet. 

Thinking about it, you could go for something sweet now. But nothing that was consumable. 

“Do you have a session prepped?” You asked.

Immediately, he perked up. A bright smile on his face complimented by an enthused flush. 

“Of course! Ever since you’ve come along, I’m like ten sessions ahead!” He leaned toward you, bouncing on his toes. 

“I’m glad that you’ve been so inspired. I love your stories.” You gave him a soft smile. 

His eyes widen, practically sparkling at your words.

“Y-you love my stories?” He held his hand to his heart, feeling the muscle pump faster at your compliment.

“Why do you think I want to play with you so often?” You pulled his die over with a finger, rolling it around. “I have a lot of fun with you.” 

“We could have more fun.” He raised a brow suggestively, looking over his glasses at you.

Red in the face, you waved him off with a giggle.

“Do you have time to play now?”

“I always have time for you.” 

You were sure you heard Timothy scoff somewhere in the distance. That was no matter though, for now you had the full attention of your favorite die. 

“Shall we play, then?” 

Chance nodded enthusiastically, then proceeded to get his GM station set up. When his screen and notes were all in place, he gave an approved nod. Looking up, he beamed at you again. Feeling his heart squeeze at the content smile on your face as you sat on the other end of the table from him. Oh how he wished to always keep you happy. He would play forever with you just to make sure that smile never fell from your lips. 

“Alright, where did we leave off?” He glanced over his notes.

“I managed to talk myself out of being eaten by a giant.” You had your own notes pulled out. 

Chance felt his heart swell again. You took notes! Oh, you truly were the perfect player. 

“That’s right! My charismatic girl!” He chuckled as your face grew red. 

He was glad that he managed to make you as flustered as you made him. Equal opportunity flirting to make the other squirm. Again, perfect. 

“You’ve gotten away from the giant, but you still have yet to find the gilded egg laying hen.” 

“Thankfully, you have quite the wise girl as well!” You let out a satisfied huff. “Can I make a perception check to see where the chicken is?” 

“You may.” He motioned for you to continue.

Shaking the die in your hands you urged it to roll well. 

“C’mon D20, show me what you’re made of!” 

You released the die, it clattered into your dice tray. After a moment of circling, it landed on a 16. 

“Nice! And that’s a plus four to my perception!” 

“Wonderful!” He cleared his throat, continuing his tale. “As you look around the foyer of the giant’s castle, you aren’t finding any indications of where a hen might be roosting. However, after a moment of hearing silence, there’s a new sound filtering down the hallway to the north.��

“What’s the sound?” You ask with a knowing smirk.

“It’s soft harp music, almost dreamlike.” 

After your previous character died valiantly saving a village from a dragon, Chance asked if you would mind experimenting with a fairytale themed game. Of course, you agreed, excited to see what he would come up with. While some of the quests you have been on so far were a bit predictable, he had many twists and turns added in. 

Like Cinderella’s slipper turning out to be a baby mimic. When you had managed to aid the prince in finding his lost love, the mimic revealed itself, chomping down on her foot. However, she didn’t scream. It turned out, Cinderella’s ballgown had already consumed her and was using her head and limbs to blend in. The fairy godmother revealed herself as a demon looking to collect on the souls of the kingdom. All she needed was the prince to disappear so she could take his place. 

It was a lovely twist that ended with a fairly hard battle. Thankfully the prince that accompanied you turned out to be part of the bloodline of very powerful sorcerers, so he was able to aid in the defeat of the fairy godmother. 

The prince tried asking for your hand in marriage, but you had other adventures to go on. Instead, you left with a hefty amount of gold. A token of appreciation for saving the kingdom. The engagement ring hidden amongst the coins didn’t go unnoticed, Chance giving you a cheeky wink when he mentioned it. 

You had noticed the man had been throwing romance options at you throughout each of the fairy tales. Many of them were love stories, sure, but it seemed like he really wanted you to get with someone. Little Red Riding Hood, growing smitten with you after you saved her from the belly of a wolf. A huntsman asking for your hand after you aided him in saving the kingdom from a corrupt king. Snow White practically begged you to marry her after you turned out to be her “true love's kiss”. He was laying it on pretty thick, so to speak.  

Truthfully, the reason why you never accepted was because you wanted Chance to stop hiding his affections behind characters in your game. The two of you had constant flirty banter, but it felt like he could only speak through innuendo when hinting at wanting anything more. While it was endearing, it was starting to become tiring. 

Though admittedly, you were a coward too. It would be hypocritical to judge the man considering you couldn’t muster up the courage to do anything either. Instead, you sat in a flirtatious purgatory. Something that could be viewed as a comfortable platonic relationship, but in reality had very, very heavy overtones of desire. 

Neither you or Chance could be subtle. There were times where you could feel the hunger in his eyes as he ran your game. Usually when you did something quite clever. 

That time when you answered his Latin riddle? The man was very glad he had baggy pants on. 

Then there was you. Easily bending to his dominating whims when he was GMing. Something about him having that kind of authority over you often had you clenching your thighs and squirming in your chair. And don’t even get started on the villain monologues. He pulled one of those out, you left the gaming table with your panties soaked. Giving Betty quite the show when you couldn’t get to sleep. 

Back to your current game, Chance asked for your next move.

“I follow the sound of the harp.”

“You feel almost entranced at the music. Your steps pulling you to the north hallway. After about an hour of walking (remember, this is a GIANT’S castle) you made it to the room the music was coming from. Peering inside, you see a giant sitting on a bed. She appears to be much shorter than the one you first encountered, but still clearly a giant. You can tell she is related to the other giant, both sporting the same nose shape. The giant girl is playing the harp, her fingers delicately plucking at the strings. You look across from her and see what you’ve been looking for. A hen nestled in a nest of straw. Its body swaying side to side with the music. Below it you see a peek of gold. What would you like to do?”

“I’m not going to try and hide.”

Chance looked at you with wide eyes, surprised at your blatant move.

“I handled the other giant with my words, I can easily do the same again.”

Oh, he loved your confidence. Your willingness to dive in despite the consequences. He just hoped that it wouldn’t end with your bones ground up to make bread. Quite the horrific way to depart this mortal realm.

“If you say so. You stride inside with confidence. Hyping yourself up from your previous encounter with a giant.” He rolled a die, giving a grimace. “The giant girl doesn’t appear to see you. She’s looking right at the hen, swaying side to side as she continues to play the harp.”

“I try to catch her attention by clearing my throat loudly.” 

“You clear your throat, and she stops playing. A sour look grows on her face as she looks for the source of the sound. Looking down, she finally spots you. Crossing her arms, she gives you a pout.”

“You know, it’s quite rude to interrupt a performance.” Chance put on the voice of a little girl, making you chuckle. “What’s so funny?”

“Chance, you know that wasn’t in-game.” You gave him a stern look. 

“I know, I’m just messin. Anyways… she looks at you, waiting for you to respond.”

“I apologize, your music is lovely.” 

“Then why did you interrupt me?”

“Well, I have some important matters to discuss.”

“Important matters? What’s important is that Bailey gets her proper rest.” Chance returns to his normal voice. “You follow her gaze to the hen in the nest.”

“Is Bailey your hen?” 

“Obviously!” The character voice returned. “And she won’t lay eggs unless I play for her.” 

“I see.” You ponder on that information for a moment, then ask. “Is the harp huge?”

“It’s giant, so is the hen.”

“Didn’t the asshole who hired me say he had been here before? Why send me up if there’s no way to bring the items down?” You huffed in frustration at the quest-giver.

“Who said there wasn’t a way to bring them down?” He clicked his tongue at you, admonishingly.

“Hmmm. I think I'll talk to the girl some more.” He motioned for you to continue. “I’m sure Bailey loves your music.”

“She does, she always lays an egg when I play! My daddy says I’m gettin just as good as my mama!” Chance goes back to narrating. “After she says that she goes quiet. Her eyes widening as if she’s just realized you were here. There’s a darkness in them that surprises you for a girl so young.”

“I don’t have a good feeling about this.” You bit your lip nervously.

“You’re a human. Humans aren’t allowed here!”

“Um, you’re dad let me go. At least I think it was your dad.” You give Chance a nervous glance.

“Roll on persuasion.”

Shaking the dice, you let it drop. Watching in fear as it lands on a three. Chance’s gaze grows dark.

“You only think you know? How can I know if you’re telling the truth?” Chance narrates again. “The giant girl stands up, towering high over you. A glare on her face as her eyes narrow. But you spot something odd, her eyes are watering.” The little girl voice is put back on. “All humans lie! I bet you’re no different!”

“I decide to stay quiet, letting her speak.” You say to Chance. Again, he’s surprised at your action.

“Your people killed my mom!” He switches back to normal. “You now see tears falling from her eyes. She’s going to reach for you.” He rolls a die, eyeing you expectantly. “Would you like to do anything to stop it?”

“No. I let her.” 

“A large hand grabs you with a crushing squeeze. You feel the air forced out of your body by the strong grip of her hand. She lifts you to her head.” He clears his throat, going back to the girl voice. “I should just eat you, show you how it feels.” He gives you another expectant look. “Are you going to try and do anything?”

“Nope. I’m gonna close my eyes and accept my fate.” 

Impressed, Chance sits back with his arms crossed. Pondering on what to do next. While you had managed to talk your way out of the last giant encounter, he thought you would at least try to fight your way out of this one. The giant child’s stat block was something that you could manage on your own. 

“Okay. I want you to roll persuasion, and I’ll be nice and give you advantage for what you’ve managed to do so far.”

Pumping your fist in the air, you reached for the die. This time, you brought the D20 to your lips, giving it a light peck. This was a roll that was gonna need it. 

“C’mon lucky shot, don’t let me down now.” 

The first roll landed on a 6. Again, you brought the die to your lips. The kiss to the dice slightly lingering, just for good luck. You shook it in your hand and released, crossing your fingers for a good roll. Slowly, it spun to land on a 20.

“Nat 20 babee! Let’s gooooo!” You stood up and cheered, your character saved.

Chance remained seated, face beet red. His breathing had become labored. For some reason, he couldn’t get himself to calm down. Maybe it was the fact that you had kissed the die in succession. Something he could feel burning through his body. 

Coming down from your high, you realized Chance hadn’t continued. Turning, you gave him a concerned look. Walking over, you eyed the state he was in. Face still extremely flushed. 

“Are you okay?” You leaned toward him, trying to figure out what was wrong.

“I-I’m fine. We can continue!” He rubbed his neck nervously.

“Are you sure? Your face is really red.”

“What did you expect after kissing me like that!” He clamped his hands over his mouth, face turning another shade darker. 

“What? I didn’t kiss…” You looked over to the die, feeling a heat crawl up your neck. “C-can you feel that?”

Hands still over his mouth, he nodded. You realized you had been performing your luck ritual the entire time you had been playing with Chance. He could feel it. Every. Single. Time. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You felt terrible, doing that to him without asking.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He said softly.

“But then I kept making you uncomfortable! Kissing you without your consent, ugh. I’m so sorry, Chance.” You gave him a sad look that pierced his heart. That wasn’t what he meant at all!

“I never said I was uncomfortable.” He composed himself somewhat.

“Huh?” 

“I might have liked it…” He trailed quietly. 

“What was that?” You couldn’t make out what he said.

“I like it!” He blurted. “I really like it when you kiss me.” His face grew red again as he waited for your response.

“Y-you do?” 

He nodded sheepishly. 

“Yeah. It feels… nice. Really nice.” He bit his lip nervously. “You’re always so soft and sweet.” 

“Oh.” Your face was burning.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” He gave you an apologetic look. 

“Chance…” This time you were nervous.

“Yes?” 

You leaned down toward his face. Arms planted on the headrest of his chair.

“Can I actually kiss you?”

“I-I mean technically you are ‘actually’ kissing me…” He stuttered out, eyes flitting between your eyes and lips.

You gave him an unamused pout.

“You know what I mean. How’s about this? Can I give you a reciprocated kiss? One that you also participate in?”

“Yes. Please.” 

With that, you pressed your lips to his. Chance froze up at first, eyes wide at the fact that this was happening. Leaning into the kiss, his eyes fluttered shut. You let out a content sigh at the feel of his lips against yours. Soft and plush, perfectly meldable with your own. 

With your tongue, you teased at his bottom lip. Gladly, he slightly opened his mouth for your tongues to intertwine. A low groan left him as he tasted you. So fucking perfect.

The man pushed the chair away from the table, letting you sink onto his lap. Your hand trailed up his neck, fingers lightly scratching at his scalp. He moaned against you at the action. His own hands trailed over your body, mapping out your slopes and curves. Ultimately they landed on your ass, giving it a quick squeeze. You giggled against his lips, pulling away to get a good look at him.

Face still flushed with kiss bitten lips and blown out pupils. He stared up at you like you were a goddess that was granting him a blessing. That was sure how this encounter was feeling. Something that he had only dreamed of. 

“You’re so handsome.” You pressed kisses against his jaw and down his throat, making him shiver. 

“And you’re beautiful. So perfect.” He pressed a kiss to your lips. 

Leaning your forehead against his, you smiled. Then an idea came to you. Biting your lip, you wondered if the man beneath you would oblige to your whims. 

“Chance…”

“Hmm?”

“When I kiss your die, where do you feel it?”

“Oh, um, I guess on my face? Like a whisper against my cheeks and the corner of my lips.” He let out an awkward chuckle. 

You shifted off of him to grab the die, then returned to his lap. Holding the die in front of you, you looked over the numbers.

“So what would happen if I kissed the other numbers?” You asked, gaze hungry.

Oh, oh, this was hot. So fucking hot. Chance thought just kissing you was a dream come true. You wanting more from him? That was merely a fantasy.

“I suppose I would feel you kissing me on other parts of my body.” He answered. Truthfully, he had no idea what would happen. You only ever kissed the 20.

“So if I kiss the one.” You brought the dice to your lips, pecking the side.

Chance giggled at the feeling. Right on the bottom of his foot. 

“I take it that was your foot?”

He nodded, excited to see where this was going. Already feeling himself growing semi-hard in his pants as  he watched you in anticipation.

You pressed a kiss to the five, eyeing Chance’s response. He twitched under you with a whimper. 

“Where was that?”

“My left thigh.” 

Okay, so if five was the left thigh then… you pressed a kiss to the six.

“R-right thigh.” He groaned out. Having your lips on him like this was something else. 

It was probably a good thing you never kissed the other numbers. He was sure you would make him cum from just kissing him alone. 

“So if six is your other thigh then that must mean seven or eight is likely your-”

“What if we avoided that area?” He cut you off, a nervous sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

“Why’s that?” You leaned in, giving him a deep kiss.

“I-I just…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. 

“Chance, would me kissing the dice equivalent of your crotch make you cum?” Wow, just right out with it. 

“Y-yeah, yeah. It would. I’m gonna be honest. With the way that you’re already going at it, I’d probably cum just from you kissing me.” 

“Really?” You sat upright, eyes sparkling. 

He nodded, blushing furiously. 

“Could we try it?” You bit your lip. 

The thought of having the man fall apart just from you kissing him had you riled up. You could feel yourself growing wetter at the thought. Seeing him squirm from your kisses before coming undone. Oh, that was very appealing. 

“You want to?” He was surprised.

“Yeah, I do. Only if you want to.” 

“You don’t have to ask twice.” He wrapped a hand around your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. Your tongues tangled with each other as you moaned. 

Pulling away, you brought the dice back up to your face. Eyeing the numbers, you decided to go for the 19. You gave it a slow kiss, watching Chance as he shivered and moaned. The feeling reached a sweet spot on his neck that had him keening. He was pretty sure he was addicted to your lips now. 

You continued to press kisses to various numbers. Loving every whimper and moan you managed to get out of the man. Occasionally you would lean back in to give him a proper kiss on the lips, only to return to tease him with the die. 

Chance could tell you were avoiding the seven and eight. Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. 

“P-please.” He groaned through gritted teeth as he felt your lips on his chest. “I need you…”

“Need me to what?” You teased with a smirk.

“Kiss the seven and eight. Please.” He begged, squirming beneath you.

“Hmm. Good boy.” Oh fuck. That had his dick throbbing. 

Slowly, you brought the die to your lips. You pecked all over it, then finally pressed a kiss to the seven. Chance cried out at the feeling. Your lips right where he needed them. Feeling them press against his throbbing length. He was sure the next one would be the last he needed. You gave another slow kiss to the eight. It was his undoing. Cock twitching in his pants, releasing a sticky load into his boxers. His hands gripped at your hips as he rutted against the feeling of your lips. 

“Oh f-fuck.” He stuttered out. 

You pressed your lips to his, then kissed all over his face. The man melting into your affection. 

“How was that?” You asked softly.

“Amazing. Perfect. Wonderful. Perfect. Did I mention perfect?” He chuckled.

“I’m glad I could give you that.” You picked up the die again, giving it a peck on the 20. 

“Guess I’ll be keeping my lucky shot tradition for our other games.” You gave him a sweet smile. 

“Oh sweetheart,” Chance pulled you back to him, “did you think playtime was over?”

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Baby Fever in Abu Dhabi

Word count: 840

Pairing: lando Norris x reader

Summary: After Max and Kelly announce their pregnancy during a dinner in Abu Dhabi, Y/n finds herself daydreaming about starting a family with Lando.

________________________________________________________

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix weekend was always electric, the perfect mix of high stakes and celebration. The paddock buzzed with energy, and the golden hues of the desert sunset made everything feel surreal. Lando Norris and Y/n had just wrapped up a long day of media sessions and track walks, and they were both ready to unwind.

Max Verstappen and Kelly Piquet had invited them for dinner at their suite in the luxurious Yas Marina hotel. Y/n had been looking forward to it all day—Max and Kelly always made great company, and their gatherings were a welcome break from the intense race weekend atmosphere.

When they arrived, Kelly greeted them with her signature warmth, her glowing smile instantly making Y/n feel at home.

“Come in, come in,” Kelly said, ushering them inside. The suite was stunning, with a view overlooking the illuminated marina, the yachts glittering like jewels against the dark water.

Max appeared from the kitchen carrying a bottle of wine. “About time,” he teased, shaking Lando’s hand. “Thought you’d get lost on the way here.”

“Not everyone drives like you, mate,” Lando joked, smirking as he plopped onto the couch.

Y/n gave Kelly a quick hug, then turned to Max. “Thanks for having us. This place is incredible.”

“We’re glad you could come,” Kelly said, her voice unusually soft.

As dinner was served, the conversation flowed easily, touching on everything from the season’s highs and lows to plans for the off-season. But Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that Max and Kelly were holding something back. They exchanged knowing glances throughout the meal, and Kelly’s hand frequently rested on her stomach.

Finally, as dessert was brought out—a decadent chocolate cake that Y/n immediately eyed with excitement—Max cleared his throat.

“Alright,” he began, his tone quieter than usual. “We have something to share with you.”

Kelly placed her hand on his, her smile lighting up the room. “We’re having a baby,” she said, her voice trembling slightly with emotion.

Y/n gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Oh my God, Kelly! That’s amazing!”

Lando blinked, clearly caught off guard but quick to recover. “Wow, congrats, mate! That’s… wow.” He stood up, giving Max a firm handshake and a clap on the back before hugging Kelly.

Y/n practically launched herself at Kelly, wrapping her in a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you two! You’re going to be the best parents.”

Kelly laughed softly, her hand instinctively brushing over her small bump. “Thank you. We’re so excited—and nervous, of course. But mostly excited.”

As the evening continued, the conversation shifted to baby names, nursery ideas, and Max’s surprisingly sentimental thoughts about fatherhood. Y/n couldn’t stop smiling, but deep down, a small, unexpected pang tugged at her heart.

On the drive back to their hotel later that night, Y/n stared out the window at the shimmering lights of Abu Dhabi. The streets were alive with fans and festivities, but her mind was elsewhere.

“You’ve been quiet,” Lando said, glancing at her as he navigated through the bustling roads.

She hesitated before responding. “It’s just… Max and Kelly. They seemed so happy, didn’t they?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his tone casual. “Max looked like he’d just won two championships in one season or something.”

She laughed softly, then turned to face him. “Don’t you think it’s amazing? Starting a family, building something together like that?”

Lando’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, and he gave her a quick look. “You’re not saying we should do that anytime soon, right?”

“No!” she said quickly, her cheeks flushing. “I’m just saying… I don’t know. Seeing them tonight made me think about it. Someday, maybe?”

He pulled into the hotel parking lot, switching off the engine before turning to her fully. His expression softened, a mix of amusement and tenderness. “You’ve got baby fever, don’t you?”

Y/n groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Maybe a little. But it’s not like I want a baby tomorrow or anything. It’s just… it made me think.”

Lando reached over, pulling her hands away from her face. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re avoiding the question.”

He chuckled, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her forehead. “Alright, I’ll admit it: seeing Max all excited like that was kind of cool. But we’ve got time, Y/n. Let’s enjoy what we have now, yeah?”

She nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, we do have a pretty good thing going, don’t we?”

He grinned, his signature mischievous look returning. “The best. And who knows? Maybe one day we’ll have a little Norris running around. But let’s take it one step at a time—like getting me through this race weekend first.”

Y/n laughed, the tension melting away as they headed inside. As she slipped her hand into his, she couldn’t help but picture a future where their little family dreams might just come true. But for now, she was happy with their here and now—and Lando by her side.

[cressidagrey]

A McLaren Meltdown

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)

Summary: Mclaren’s staff reactions to Oscar Piastri’s surprise marriage reveal.

(divider thanks to @saradika-graphics )

Sophie had three rules for race weekend PR.

Control the narrative.

Anticipate the chaos.

Never trust a “quick” fan stage.

She was halfway through writing a press release about tire strategy when her phone buzzed once. Then twice. Then thirty-seven times in under two minutes.

The group chat with the digital media team had caught fire.

[McLaren Media 🔥] 💬 “OH MY GOD.” 💬 “HE SAID HE’S BEEN MARRIED SINCE HE WAS EIGHTEEN.” 💬 “WE NEED A STATEMENT.” 💬 “WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘MARRIED’???” 💬 “Lando spat water. There is video.”

Sophie blinked at her phone, stunned.

Then came the link.

She clicked. Watched. Listened.

Oscar, calm as ever:

“Well, I already did one of those things.” Lando, shrieking: “YOU’RE MARRIED?!”

Sophie made a sound not unlike a dying animal.

She stood, tablet in hand, walked to the nearest wall in the media trailer, and very calmly banged her forehead against it.

Twice.

Across the room, one of the interns whispered, “Is she okay?”

“No,” someone else replied.

Sophie turned to the team.

“Does anyone have a marriage certificate? A formal quote? A—a photo? Anything we can use?”

Her email pinged.

Subject line: Netflix Inquiry — Episode Rights: Oscar Piastri Reveal

Another ping.

BBC Radio Request: “Interview With the Most Mysterious Woman in Motorsport.”

And then, like he’d been summoned by sheer rage, Zak Brown strolled in, looking far too calm.

“Hey team. Saw the fan stage. Oscar’s married, huh? Wild stuff.”

Sophie slowly turned. “You knew.”

Zak gave her a sheepish smile. “Mark Webber mentioned it once. Years ago. Said she was great. Didn’t seem relevant at the time.”

“ZAK.”

“What?”

“HE’S BEEN MARRIED FOR FIVE YEARS.” Sophie was dangerously close to combusting. “He’s our youngest driver and he eloped at eighteen. That’s relevant!”

Zak held up his hands. “I didn’t think it was a secret. Oscar’s a private guy.”

“Private guy?! He said ‘on the bed’ like it was a normal engagement location!” Sophie nearly shrieked. “Do you know how many headline puns they’ve made about that already?!”

Someone from graphics called out, “Can we use ‘Lights Out and Vows Away’ or is that too much?”

“It’s not damage,” Zak said helpfully. “It’s engagement.”

“I swear to God, Zak,” Sophie hissed. 

Slack was already full of memes. Someone had gif’d Lando’s meltdown with the caption “Me finding out my best friend is secretly married like it’s a normal Thursday.”

The press inbox was collapsing under subject lines like:

“IS SHE A CELEBRITY?” “DO THEY HAVE A CHILD?” “LAN-DRAMA: Norris Betrayed???” “Can we get her on The Paddock Panel?”

Sophie clutched her forehead. “Okay. Okay. Deep breath.”

“We need Oscar to post something,” she declared, her voice rising above the din.

Zak tilted his head. “You sure? That might just fuel it more.”

“He already fueled it, Zak. He turbocharged it and strapped fireworks to the back.”

“Fair point.”

Sophie groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I’m going to have to rewrite everything. Update the media deck. Issue a statement. Reprint bios. Plan a WAG-friendly feature piece. And deal with Lando, who’s spiraling like his best friend betrayed him.”

A pause.

“And someone call Netflix,” she added darkly. “Tell them they just got their best episode of the season. No edits required.”

***

Andrea Stella prided himself on knowing his drivers.

Their tells, their ticks, the way they thought—how they braked, how they communicated, when they needed space and when they needed a push. It was part of his job. But it was also personal. He’d always believed that good leadership came from paying attention to the whole person, not just the lap time.

Which is why the events of this morning left him quietly, genuinely stunned.

He hadn't seen the fan stage live—he’d been in an engineering debrief—but by the time he stepped into the media office, it was all anyone could talk about.

Oscar. Married. For five years. Since he was eighteen.

The video played on loop in the corner of the room, muted but unmistakable. Oscar’s dry calm. Lando’s shocked scream. The social media team was in shambles. The PR team looked like they were trying not to hyperventilate.

Andrea just… stood there for a moment.

Watching.

Processing.

He felt the frown settle between his brows. Not anger. Not exactly disappointment. Just… a quiet ache in the chest of someone who’d thought he was closer to one of his drivers than maybe he actually was.

Oscar had been married. For five years. And Andrea hadn't known. Not even a hint.

He stepped out of the room, calm as ever, but his mind raced.

And then, with all the subtlety of a man who’d been blindsided one too many times today, Andrea found himself heading toward the physio area—toward Kim.

Kim Keedle was Oscar’s trainer, his shadow, his constant presence in the garage. If anyone knew Oscar better than Andrea, it was probably Kim.

Andrea found him in the paddock gym, casually adjusting a resistance band on the wall.

“Kim,” Andrea said, voice even. “Quick question.”

Kim turned, cheerful as always. “Hey, boss. What’s up?”

Andrea tilted his head, arms crossing. “Did you know Oscar was married?”

Kim blinked. Then blinked again. “Uh… yeah?”

Andrea waited.

Kim scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, yeah. They’ve been married since—what—just after graduation? Felicity’s great. ”

Andrea was silent for a beat too long.

Kim winced slightly. “You didn’t know?”

“No,” Andrea said softly. “I didn’t.”

And that—that was the part that surprised him the most. Not the marriage. 

But the fact that Oscar, his driver, his stone-faced, brilliantly strategic driver, had managed to keep an entire wife away from the paddock spotlight… and never once let it slip.

He thought about all the long flights, the post-race reviews, the hours spent talking about the future. He had asked Oscar about his offseason plans, his training routines, even his travel preferences.

Never once had he thought to ask if Oscar had someone waiting at home.

And Oscar, ever calm, had never offered.

Andrea nodded slowly. “Thank you, Kim.”

Kim gave him a sympathetic smile. “He didn’t mean to keep it from you, you know. He’s just… private. He thinks if something doesn’t affect the job, it doesn’t need mentioning.”

Andrea looked away, exhaling through his nose. “Still. I would’ve liked to have known.”

“Yeah,” Kim said, voice gentler now. “I think he’ll understand that.”

Andrea gave a small nod, but the sting remained.

He wasn’t angry.

Just... quietly hurt.

Because he cared about his drivers—not just the helmets and telemetry and podium stats, but the people beneath all that.

And maybe, just maybe, he thought they cared enough to let him in too.

***

The room had all the energy of a bunker mid-airstrike.

Half the PR team was gathered around the conference table in McLaren hospitality, the other half hovering behind Sophie, who had summoned Oscar with the same tone one might use for code red, house on fire, or Lando’s Instagram Live just crashed the website again.

Oscar walked in like it was any other media meeting.

He sat down. Calm. Collected. Completely unaware that his entire personal life had set the internet on fire six hours ago.

Sophie didn’t even look up from her laptop. “Okay,” she said, voice clipped. “Let’s talk about The Reveal.”

Oscar blinked. “The what?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Zak leaned back in his chair, thoroughly enjoying himself. “You nuked the internet with six words.”

Andrea Stella, unusually quiet, just sat with his arms crossed. Still processing. Still mildly wounded.

“‘Well, I already did one of those things,’” Sophie quoted flatly. “That’s what you said.”

Oscar nodded. “Yeah. Because I did.”

“You have been married for five years,” Sophie said, very slowly, “and you did not think that was something the team—your teammate, your PR department, the people who make the media decks—should know?”

Oscar gave her a polite shrug. “I didn’t hide it.”

Sophie made a strangled noise. “You also didn’t say a word.”

“Different issue,” Oscar said mildly.

Andrea exhaled sharply through his nose.

Zak smirked. “To be fair, he has a point.”

Sophie gave him a look that could kill.

“We need a response,” she snapped. “A controlled response. Instagram. Twitter. Something that gives people what they want without fueling every gossip rag on Earth.”

Oscar nodded thoughtfully. “Okay.”

Sophie blinked. “Okay?”

“I already have a draft.”

The room fell silent.

“You what?” Sophie asked.

Oscar reached into his hoodie pocket, pulled out his phone, and calmly opened his Notes app. “Wrote it earlier,” he said. “Figured you’d ask.”

He passed the phone to Sophie.

She scrolled.

Stopped.

Scrolled again.

By the third paragraph, she was blinking fast and biting the inside of her cheek. By the end, she was holding the phone with both hands like it was a fragile heirloom.

One of the interns leaned over her shoulder. “Did he just… write a romance novel in his Notes app?”

Oscar shrugged. “Seemed easier than a press conference.”

Andrea, still quiet, tilted his head. “You wrote this yourself?”

Oscar looked at him. “Yeah.”

Andrea just gave a small nod. No words. But something in his expression shifted. A little less hurt. A little more understanding.

Sophie passed the phone to Zak.

Zak read three lines, then huffed. “Jesus. You really are a wife guy.”

Oscar shrugged again.

“Well,” Sophie said faintly. “It’s perfect.”

Oscar took his phone back. “Should I post it now or wait until after FP2?”

Sophie threw her hands in the air. “How are you so calm about this?!”

Oscar looked up, deadpan. “Because I’ve been married for five years.”

And there it was again—that maddening, infuriating, charmingly psychotic Oscar Piastri calm.

Sophie sat down, defeated. “Fine. Post it. Pray Lando doesn’t say anything unhinged in the comments.”

Andrea glanced at him one more time. “Next time, Oscar,” he said softly, “you can tell us. It doesn’t have to be relevant to the car.”

Oscar looked at him, then nodded. “Noted.”

And with that, he pulled out his phone, opened Instagram, and hit post—like it was the most normal thing in the world.

(Which, to him, it probably was.)

Ten seconds later, Sophie’s phone buzzed again.

And again.

And again.

“Buckle up,” she muttered. “Here we go again.”

[xo100]

Unwrapped feelings - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: At their birthday celebration, you feel upset when none of the gifts are for you. Lando reassures her of his love, making her feel cherished despite the oversight.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1494

୨ৎ

Lando Norris was the sun in her life, a constant, warm presence that filled her days with joy. She loved him deeply, and after three years of dating, her heart still fluttered when he looked at her the way he did. They were each other's best friends, sharing everything from their quiet nights at home to the busy life he led as a Formula 1 driver. Lando loved her, too. There was no question about that. He made sure to remind her with every touch, every soft kiss, and every whispered word when they were alone. But no matter how much love existed between them, there was a silent, looming cloud that she tried so hard not to notice. His friends.

They never liked her, and she couldn’t quite understand why. She wasn’t arrogant or boastful. In fact, she was quite the opposite—introverted, sweet, and often quiet, especially around large groups. She wasn't overly outgoing or dramatic, and she certainly wasn’t trying to steal Lando away from his friends. But still, whenever they were together with his friends or the rest of the team, she could feel their subtle distance. The sideways glances when she spoke, the quick change of conversation when she joined a group—it all added up.

It wasn’t as though she had never tried to bridge the gap, either. Early in their relationship, she had gone out of her way to be friendly, to make conversation, and to show interest in their lives. But the more she tried, the more it felt like she was only getting further away from them. Over time, she stopped trying so hard, and she retreated back into the quiet comfort of just being by Lando’s side. After all, he was the one she loved. As long as they were okay, nothing else should matter, right?

But it did. Even if she wouldn’t admit it out loud, it hurt that the people closest to Lando—the ones he spent so much of his life with—didn’t seem to care for her. And that quiet hurt always seemed to linger at the back of her mind.

This weekend, however, was supposed to be special. A day for both of them, a moment to celebrate not only Lando’s birthday but hers as well. The idea to celebrate their birthdays together was something Lando had insisted on. They were only a few days apart, and since Lando had such a busy schedule, he suggested one big party where they could celebrate together. He even offered to host it at the McLaren Technology Centre, a place he called home and wanted to share with her.

“Everyone will be there,” he had said, his excitement bubbling over. “My friends, the team, some of the drivers. It'll be great!”

She had nodded with a smile, her heart hopeful that maybe this would be a chance to connect with everyone on a different level, in a more relaxed and festive atmosphere. Her own friends, though invited, couldn’t make the trip to England, and while she understood, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit lonely knowing she wouldn’t have her usual support system there. Still, this was about Lando too, and she wanted to focus on making sure he had the best time.

The night of the party had been a whirlwind. Lando was glowing, his energy infectious as he mingled with everyone, laughing and sharing stories. She stayed by his side for most of the night, smiling softly at his friends and the team members who came over to greet him, though she noticed the conversations were always directed toward him and never her. It stung, but she pushed the feelings aside. Tonight was supposed to be fun.

After hours of laughter, music, and food, the party wound down, and as the guests began to leave, Lando took her hand, guiding her toward a large table piled high with presents.

“Look at all this,” he grinned, his eyes twinkling as he took in the sight. “I think we’re going to need all day tomorrow to open them.”

She chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. There were a lot of gifts, far more than she had expected. She didn’t think either of them would need much, but it was still heartwarming to see how much effort people had put into celebrating them.

Or so she thought.

The next day, after a lazy morning spent in bed, they finally sat down to open the gifts. Lando was practically buzzing with excitement, while she was content to sit beside him, happy to enjoy the moment with him.

The first few presents were exactly what she had expected—personalized items for Lando. Some McLaren-themed memorabilia, a few playful gag gifts from his friends, and even a sleek, custom helmet from one of the drivers. She watched with a soft smile as he unwrapped each one, his grin widening with every thoughtful present.

But as more and more gifts were opened, a realization slowly started to creep in. Every single present was for Lando.

She tried not to let it bother her at first. After all, Lando was the one who had more friends here, the one with the larger circle. It made sense that most of the gifts would be for him. But as the pile grew smaller and not a single gift was addressed to her, the hurt became harder to ignore.

There wasn’t a single present for her.

Not one.

By the time they reached the last box, she felt her heart sink. She had tried to stay positive, tried to convince herself that maybe someone had forgotten to label a gift, or maybe they’d gotten mixed up in the rush of the party. But no. Every gift had been intentionally for Lando, and her name hadn’t even been a second thought.

“Wow,” Lando breathed as he looked at the collection of gifts surrounding them. “That was… that was a lot.”

She nodded quietly, trying to keep her smile in place. Her hands fiddled with the ribbon from one of the opened boxes, trying to distract herself from the growing ache in her chest.

“Hey,” Lando said softly, noticing her quietness. “You okay?”

She glanced up at him, his blue eyes filled with concern. She could see how much he cared, how much he genuinely wanted to make sure she was happy. It wasn’t his fault that his friends had overlooked her. It wasn’t his fault that she felt so out of place among them.

“Yeah,” she whispered, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. I’m just… happy for you. You got so many cool things.”

He frowned, clearly not convinced by her answer. “But you didn’t get anything.”

Her stomach twisted, and she hated that she was the one bringing down the mood. “It’s okay, Lando. Really. Today was for both of us, but I know how important you are to them. It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine, and he could tell. His brows furrowed as he scooted closer to her, taking her hand in his.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, lifting her chin so she would look at him. “It’s not fine if you’re upset. You’re important too. To me.”

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away. She didn’t want to cry, not over something as silly as gifts. But the hurt wasn’t just about the presents. It was about everything—the way his friends never really accepted her, the way she always felt like an outsider in his world.

“I just…” She swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I just feel like they don’t see me. Like I don’t belong here. I know I’m not outgoing or loud or… like them. But I try, and it never seems like it’s enough.”

Lando’s expression softened, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against her hair. “I didn’t realize how much this was affecting you. But I promise, you do belong. You belong with me.”

His words were warm and comforting, but they didn’t erase the ache entirely. Still, being in his arms made her feel a little better. She rested her head against his chest, taking in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“You’re the most important person to me,” he continued, his voice gentle but firm. “And if my friends can’t see how amazing you are, then that’s their loss. I love you, and that’s what matters.”

She smiled softly, her heart swelling with love for him. Lando always knew how to make her feel better, even when the world around them felt like it was crumbling.

“I love you too,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. The gifts, the party, the friends—they all faded into the background as Lando held her close, reminding her that she was loved. And in that moment, that was enough.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it. If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

[alotofpockets]

Next-door neighbour | Aitana Bonmati x Reader

5k celebration prompt: "Would you like some company?"

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.5k

-----

A job opportunity had you packing up your life and moving across the country. Luckily your new company had covered a moving company in your signing agreement, so all you had to do was get everything and unpacked in your new apartment, they would do the heavy lifting and drive the moving trucks.

You had made the way over to Barcelona in your own car, with a few necessities in the back. It was an exciting new opportunity, but you knew you would miss your friends and family. You didn’t know anyone in Barcelona, so you were kind of starting over there, while of course staying in contact with the people in your life.

When you arrive at your new apartment you take it all in, you have seen it online, but not yet in person. The building looked beautiful, and the location was perfect. You walk inside and look around, trying to find the landlord to get your keys.

“Hey, you look lost, can I help you find something?” A woman's voice asks from the mailboxes. You smile at her kindness, “Yeah, actually, I’m new to the building. I was looking for the landlord’s office.”

“Are you filling up 4B by chance?” You nod, “That’s the one, yeah.” She smiles, “I’m Aitana,” She reaches out her hand. “I’m your next-door neighbour, 4A is me.” You shake her hand and introduce yourself. 

An alarm on her phone rings, and she quickly turns it off. “Sorry, I have to head out, but the landlord is through the door on the right at the end of the hall. If you need anything, don’t be afraid to knock on my door.” You thank her and she walks out the door after smiling your way. 

You felt your nerves settle a bit, now you knew where you had to go to get your keys, and your next-door neighbour seemed friendly and kind. A fast difference from your last apartment you thought to yourself as you entered the landlord's office. 

The movers arrived not long after you had gotten the keys, and placed all your boxes into your new place. Once the last box was done, you walked back down with them and thanked them for all their efforts. 

Aitana arrived back as you waved off the last delivery driver. “I see you’re moving in style.” She commented with an amused smile. “I was pretty impressed myself, the new company I signed for offered them. Such a help for sure.”

The two of you got into the elevator together to head to your floor of the building. Aitana was in some shorts with a logo that you think you recognise to be FC Barcelona’s from some of your friends who are into football. She must love the club and wore a pair of shorts to the gym, you thought. 

When you reached the fourth floor, you both got out. “I’ll see you around.” Aitana said with a smile. “Yeah, see you around.” You smiled back.

Back in the apartment you looked around at the chaos. Boxes and disassembled furniture everywhere. Where to start you thought as you looked between the boxes. Your bed. That seemed like a great start, then at least you would have a place to sleep tonight. 

You carried all the pieces of the bed frame into your bedroom, then walked back into the living room to grab the bag of screws you had carefully placed together in separate bags for each furniture item in a box labelled assembly.

With the correct bag in hand, you walked back into the bedroom. Only to then realise you didn’t actually own any tools. Your friend had come over to disassemble everything and had brought his tools to do so. You had always had people around with the right equipment, so you had never thought of getting your own, but now they seemed really handy.

You grab your phone to search where the nearest hardware store was, only to realise that your phone had died. Just my luck you thought. It was no use to just start driving around until you found one, but then you remembered Aitana’s offer. 

A few seconds after you knock on her door, she opens it with a smile on her face, “Hey, long time no see.” You chuckle at her silly joke, “Yeah, turns out I don’t own any tools, and have always been dependent on my friends who lived nearby for them, and now we live on different sides of the country.”

“Oh, don’t worry, what do you need?” She asked, ready to let you borrow the tools you needed like you hadn’t just met in the hallway this morning.

“A screwdriver, or maybe a cordless drill if you have one? Wanted to get my bedframe done for tonight, but realised that just the frame and the screws weren’t gonna get me far without one of those.” You scratch the back of your neck, slightly embarrassed to be asking Aitana for stuff so soon after meeting. But Aitana was quick to make those never go away, “I can help you out with that, give me one moment.”

She left her front door open a little as she walked off to get the tool. You caught a glimpse of her apartment. From what you could see it was very homey, it looked warm, yet modern. Aitana was back before you know it with a cordless drill in hand.

“You’re a lifesaver! I’ll bring it back as soon as I’m done with the bed.” She shakes her head, “No rush, whenever you’re done assembling your stuff is fine.”

You get to work on the bed, and luckily it was easier than you thought it would be, the drill definitely helping a lot. The bed was put up in no time, so you thought you could start on another project. You had your couch ready, and you could eat at the little kitchen bar that came with high chairs, so your living room and kitchen didn’t need to have assembly done right away, but you thought your closet would be nice. That way you would be able to put away a lot of the stuff as well. So, you got to work again.

Another trip to the box with labeled bags of assembly ware made you realise that you would definitely be needing a hammer to put it together. Was it too soon to go knocking on Aitana’s door again? She seemed nice enough, but you also didn’t want to be annoying. One more time wouldn’t hurt, right?

You knock on 4A’s door again. Aitana opens the door with the same smile, “Done already?” 

“Actually, I was hoping you had a hammer as well.” You say a little nervously, hoping to not be overstepping with someone you could see yourself becoming friends with. “No problem at all, I’ve got that as well.” You noticed she was wearing different clothes now, and that her hair was still wet from taking a shower. “Let me grab that for you.”

She came back with the hammer held out to you. “I’m not going to be home tonight, so if you need anything else?” You shake your head quickly, “This is more than enough, thank you very much.”

You got quite far that evening, your bed and closet were built, and you had been able to uppack a lot of your clothes and the contents of your kitchen boxes had almost all gotten a place in your new kitchen. Since it had gotten too late to start working with tools again, you had called it a night after that. 

The next morning you got right back to it. You were putting together a bookcase when you heard a knock on your door. When you open the door, you’re met with Aitana holding up a tool box, “Thought you could use the rest of these too.” She says with a bright smile. “That’s too kind.” You say, but she hands you the tools anyway. 

“How was the first night in your new place?” She asks while trying to peek inside. “It went great. I still have a lot to do of course, but I'm getting there step by step. I’d offer for you to come in but everything is a mess right now.”

“That’s okay, maybe when you’re all settled. I’d love to see what you’ve done with the place.” With a nod you agreed, “That sounds nice.” Aitana seems content with your answer and continues on, “Would you like some company? I was about to pick up some breakfast from this nice place a few streets over, want to join?” You think of your empty fridge, that you had not yet taken the time to fill and find yourself agreeing to her offer.

Aitana showed you around the neighbourhood a little while you walked over to the bakery. It was a small family owned store, and even before tasting their food, you knew you’d visit there more often. You took the food back to the apartment building after Aitana suggested having breakfast in the community garden there. Like Aitana had promised, the morning sun was already shining on the bench in the corner of the garden. The perfect place to start the day. 

As you were having your breakfast, someone else walked into the garden. “Oh, Patri, you’re early!” Aitana says as she quickly gets up to help the woman who was carrying what seemed to be a fair few tables all at once. “Yeah, we figured we’d need to make a couple trips to get everything here, so we thought we’d start early. Pina should be right behind me with some chairs.”

You didn’t want to impose so you stayed on the bench. Patri looked over, “Oh, please tell me that’s your new neighbour.” That caught your attention. “Yeah it is.” Patri’s face lights up and she steps your way before Aitana can stop her.

“Hi I’m Patri, it’s very nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” She says with her hand held out to you. “Y/n, nice to meet you.” You shake her hand. “All good things I hope from the one day that I’ve known Aitana.” Patri nods quickly, “Only good things for sure.”

“So, what’s with all the tables?” You nod your head to where Aitana was now setting up the tables. “We’re having a get to getter with some friends tonight. You should totally come! Food, drinks, music, it should be a fun one.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude.” You declined politely, but Patri was not having it. “Nonsense. We would love to have you.” Patri turns to Aitana, “Aita, we’d love to have her join us tonight, right?” You miss the light blush on her cheeks, but Patri doesn’t and sends her a knowing smile. “Yeah, you should totally come, I’d love to see you there.”

Later that day, you head downstairs wearing something casual since you didn’t actually know what kind of party this would be. You had picked up a bottle of wine at the store in order to not show up empty handed. 

When you get to the garden you see that there are a lot more tables there now than there were this morning. Patri wasn’t kidding this morning when she said she had to make a few trips.

Aitana spots you from across the garden and makes her way to you. “You made it!” She brings you in for a hug. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

As she was introducing you to everyone, you quickly realised that there were people here from all different nationalities, and you wondered how Aitana knew this many international people. 

You sat with Aitana and a few of her friends just chatting and having a drink until one of the girls, Alexia if you remembered correctly got up and got everyone’s attention. The more she spoke, the more you started to realise what was happening. 

The party was to celebrate the Copa de la Reina win, and while you didn’t know much about football, you knew it was a football competition. You turn to Aitana when the speech is done. “You play for Barcelona?” She nods, “Yeah, we all do. Did I not mention that?”

You shake your head with a chuckle, “Nope, I recognised the logo on your shorts from my friends, but I thought you were just a fan.” Aitana’s smile grew, “Proud fan, but also a Barca player since I was fourteen.”

You look around the people in the garden, “My friends would be so jealous.” Aitana’s face lit up, clearly getting some kind of idea. “Come with me, I want to show you something.”

The two of you walked into the building, and you followed her into her apartment. She led you to the living room, “What would your friends think of this?” You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. The wall was filled with trophies, medals, framed jerseys, and team pictures. It was impressive for even someone who wasn’t a football fan. “These are all yours?” You say as you step closer to inspect everything. “All mine yeah, but couldn’t have gotten any of these without my team of course.” You liked that mentality. “Yeah, my friends would definitely never believe me if I told them what I was looking at right now.” 

“Can I have your phone for a moment?” Without thinking anything of it, you handed her your phone. She opened the camera, and took your hand to pull you closer to her. “Smile.” She said before taking a few pictures together with the wall in the background. 

“Send that to them to make them jealous.” She said with a smirk. You grabbed your phone back and sent the picture in the groupchat right away, sending ‘My next-door neighbour has this amazing wall, very cool right?’ along with it.  

“Can you send those to me too?” She asked. You nod and give her your phone again, this time to add her number to your phone. Already when she was typing her phone number in, your phone started exploding. You watched the messages come in together.

Mateo: uhm hello???

Ana: you’re joking

Ana: neighbour? girl that’s insane

Maya: y/n pls tell me you know who this is and you’re not just impressed by the nice wall

Tomas: excuse me? how?

Mateo: oh yeah, she definitely is more impressed by that wall than the Aitana Bonmati

That last one made Aitana giggle, “He’s kinda right actually.” 

“Well, I’m sorry that I liked you for you and not for your apparent status.” You said, causing Aitana to laugh more. “All good, I like that you know me for our interactions and not through the media.” You smiled at her before messaging the group.

You: who?

They instantly start berating you, only making you chuckle. You quickly send Aitana the pictures, before pocketing your phone again. “Should we head back to your party? Apparently the Copa de la Reina is a big deal.” You joke. She jokingly rolls her eyes at you, “You have much to learn.” She says before pulling you out of her apartment again.

-----

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[willowsnook]

“It was a pleasure to burn” (LN)

Lando norris x golfer!reader

tw: friend’s death

request from @papayadays prompt list here

—--------------------------------------------

Settling down was overrated. 

That had been your mantra for the past couple of years, and at 24, you showed no signs of slowing down. You were at the height of your career, travelling every month, living the lifestyle you had always dreamed of. You could think about finding someone to wake up to every day later. Right now, you were just having fun. 

That’s why Lando Norris was the perfect addition to your life. 

On New Year's Eve, you flew to Dubai at the request of your friend and fellow golfer, Lily, to celebrate with her and her friends. That’s where you met Lando, who was there with his group of friends. Your groups merged for the night, and you found yourself getting to know the McLaren driver, entranced by his carefree attitude. The two of you really hit it off so you weren’t that surprised when you woke up in his hotel room the next morning. 

He on the otherhand, was freaking out. All he could think about when he woke up to you sleeping peacefully next to him was how Alex was going to kill him. Almost a year ago, he had slept with one of Pietra’s friends and he thought it would be a one-time thing, she did not and it blew up. After that fiasco he decided that fucking around with even mutual friends was off-limits; he wasn’t interested in relationships in this season of his life. 

Mind racing, he quietly slid out of bed and headed in the bathroom to shower. He would just act cool about it, not even allowing you to ask to see him again. Yeah, he thought. That would work. So imagine his surprise when he took a deep breath, ready to face you, only to catch you mid-stride trying to sneak out. 

“Where are you going?” He asked, just as you reached for the door handle. You froze, looking back at him with wide eyes, before turning slowly. 

“Oof, this is awkward,” you muttered. “Look I had a great time last night; maybe we can do it again if we see each other again but let’s not make more out of this than it is.” 

Lando's mouth fell open slightly, his rehearsed speech dying on his lips. This was... unexpected. He stared at you for a moment, towel wrapped around his waist, droplets of water still clinging to his shoulders.

"Oh," he finally managed. "That's... exactly what I was going to say."

You raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing at your lips. "Great minds, I guess?"

"Yeah," he laughed, running a hand through his damp hair. "Great minds."

Something was refreshing about your straightforwardness. Most women he'd encountered in the F1 circle were either looking for the glamour of dating a driver or trying to lock him down. But you seemed genuinely uninterested in anything beyond the moment.

"So," you said, shifting your weight, "I should probably go. My flight leaves in a few hours."

“Safe travels,” he managed to get out, and then you were gone. 

The next time you saw him was a couple of months later when Lily invited you to a race in Japan. It worked out - since you were both playing a tournament the weekend before, you were more than happy to extend your trip for an F1 race. 

Decked out in a Williams’ navy tennis dress, you were overwhelemed with how cool everything was, even just for an upcoming qualifying session. Lily was amused watching you, like a kid in a candy store she thought. 

“There are so many people here,” you gushed, waiting up for Alex to finish signing some autographs. “We should have played a cooler sport.” 

She laughed at your comment, bumping her hip into yours, “can you even imagine having this many people at one of our tournaments?” 

“The Open gets kind of close,” you tried to argue but laughed at the look she gave you. 

"I suppose, but it's still not even close to this energy."

As you continued to take in the atmosphere, a familiar figure caught your eye across the paddock. Lando was walking with his race engineer, deep in conversation, wearing his McLaren uniform. Something fluttered in your stomach when you saw him, which you quickly dismissed as the after-effects of too much coffee that morning.

"Isn't that your New Year's hookup?" Lily whispered, following your gaze.

"Shh," you hissed, elbowing her. "Don't be so loud."

"What? It's not like I said anything scandalous," she defended. "Besides, I thought it was just a one-time thing?"

"It was," you confirmed, tearing your eyes away from him. "And I'd like to keep it that way without any awkwardness."

But fate had other plans and Lando looked over to wave at Alex, his eyes catching yours for a moment. They widened in surprise and he jogged over to the three of you. 

“Y/n,” he greeted, “good to see you.”

“Likewise,” you said with an easy smile, forcing the awkward version of yourself down. Lily got pulled away with Alex by a Williams’ PR person so Lando fell in step with you as you walked back to grab a water from your bag. 

“You live in Monaco, right?” He asked, breaking the silence. 

You nodded, “Yeah, moved there last winter, why?” 

“Will you please meet up with me sometime and give me some pointers on the course?” He asked quietly, looking around to make sure no one was listening. Giving him a weird look, you stopped walking. 

“Why?” 

“I’ve been golfing with Carlos so much recently and he kicks my ass every time,” he admitted. “It’s very demoralizing.” 

You tilted your head, not sure if you believed the excuse. “Is this your way of asking me out? It’s very sweet, but again, I’m not interested in dating anyone.” 

Lando laughed, rolling his eyes at you, “You are so cocky, is it that hard to believe that I would not be asking you out?”

You gave him a big smile, motioning down to yourself, “I mean, look at me, so yeah.” 

His gaze traveled down your body, and he nodded, giving you a cheeky grin. “You’re not wrong, but I do really need golf lessons.”

"Fine," you conceded, "but only because I can't stand the thought of Carlos having any sort of advantage over you. That man is already too smug for his own good."

Lando beamed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You're the best. I'll text you when I'm back in Monaco."

"You don't have my number," you pointed out.

Without missing a beat, he pulled out his phone and handed it to you. "Problem solved."

You punched in your number, saving it under "Golf Pro 🏌️‍♀️" before handing it back. "Don't make me regret this, Norris."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he winked, then jogged back toward his team as someone called his name.

True to his word, Lando texted you three weeks later when you were both back in Monaco so you met up with him on the course.

The weather was perfect. Blue skies, a light breeze, and the scent of fresh-cut grass in the air. You had to give Lando credit—he picked a gorgeous day for this.

You were already at the driving range, adjusting your glove when he pulled up in a golf cart like he owned the place, dressed in a navy polo, crisp white shorts, and sunglasses that did nothing to hide the cocky smirk on his face.

"Well, well, if it isn’t Monaco’s finest," he greeted, hopping out.

“I’d say the same to you, but I’m trying to stay humble today,” you teased, tossing him a golf ball.

He caught it effortlessly. “Good, because I already know I suck at this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Confidence. That’s what I like to hear in a student.”

He grinned. “Oh, I’m very teachable… in the right hands.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Don’t flirt with me while I’m trying to help you fix your swing. It’s distracting.”

“But isn’t that part of the fun?” he asked, stepping up beside you with that boyish glint in his eye.

You gave him a look, then moved behind him to adjust his grip on the club. “You’re holding it like you’re about to break it in half,” you muttered, placing your hands over his to guide him.

Lando turned his head slightly. “You sure you’re not just trying to hold my hands?”

“Oh, totally,” you deadpanned, then leaned in a little closer. “Now rotate your hips—no, not like that, you’re not dancing.”

“You’ve seen my dancing?” he smirked.

“Tragically, yes. New Year’s was a rough night for choreography.”

He laughed, and the sound was infectious. “You’re brutal.”

“I’m honest.”

Lando finally managed a decent swing that sent the ball sailing down the fairway. He let out a cheer, spinning around to face you. “Did you see that?! That was, like, halfway decent!”

You clapped slowly, amused. “Proud of you. Baby steps.”

They say chemistry is easy to recognize—and out here, just the two of you in the open space, it crackled like a live wire. But after a few more swings and playful banter, you both eventually settled under a shaded canopy, sipping water and watching the other golfers in the distance.

Lando tilted his head, glancing at you. “You know… I actually like this. Hanging out. No pressure.”

You hummed in agreement. “Same. I’ve gotten really good at keeping things casual. No drama, no expectations. Just enjoying life.”

He nodded slowly. “Exactly. I don’t think I’m in a place where I could give someone a relationship. My schedule’s insane, I barely sleep, and most of the time I’m jet-lagged or thinking about tire degradation.”

You laughed. “So hot.”

“Right?” he grinned. “What about you? You dating anyone?”

You shook your head. “Nah. I mean, yeah, I’ve gone on some dates. But settling down? That’s not on the radar right now. I’m traveling constantly, chasing tournaments, trying to stay at the top of my game. A relationship just sounds… exhausting.”

Lando raised his bottle in a mock toast. “To being single and thriving.”

You clinked your bottle against his. “And to fun. Fun is underrated.”

There was a moment of easy silence, the kind that didn’t feel like it needed to be filled. The sun was dipping lower now, casting everything in a soft golden hue.

“Just don’t fall in love with me after I teach you how to drive straight,” you said, breaking the quiet.

He snorted. “Don’t worry, I only fall for women who can’t beat me at sports.”

“Well, then you’re screwed.”

He gave you a look, that spark of challenge in his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

You smirked, finishing your water. “Come on, lover boy. Lesson’s not over yet.”

—-----------------------------------------------

You saw Lando on and off for the rest of the year, and it really was strictly casual; half of the times you were together, you slept together, the other half, you didn’t. He had converted you into an F1 fan, so each weekend, you found yourself up at odd hours to watch the races. This particular weekend would be good, though, considering that Brazil is a time zone close enough to yours. 

After grabbing dinner from your favorite little cafe down the street, you snuggled into your couch to watch the GP. It was a wild one, the weather causing plenty of crashes and you were disappointed to see it not work out for Lando. You watched some of the post-race interviews and frowned. Lando didn’t seem like his usual bad race self - this time it seemed much worse. 

Sure enough, you checked in later to one of Max’s streams that he was on, and were surprised to see that he was very quiet. 

You felt a pang of concern watching him. This wasn't his usual post-bad-race mood—there was something deeper bothering him. Before you could overthink it, you grabbed your phone and sent him a text.

Y/N: Hey, rough day. Ice cream and bad movies at my place when you're back in Monaco?

You set your phone down, not expecting a response anytime soon. To your surprise, it buzzed almost immediately.

LN: Please. Landing tomorrow afternoon.

The next day, you made sure your apartment was tidied up—not that you were trying to impress him or anything. You just didn't want him judging your laundry pile. You'd stocked the freezer with his favorite Ben & Jerry's flavors and queued up the worst movies you could find on Netflix.

When the doorbell rang, you weren't prepared for how exhausted he looked. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his whole body was just sort of slumped over. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his waist, and he leaned into you. 

“You’re okay,” you mumured, rubbing his back as you felt his body start to shake. 

After a minute, he pulled back, quickly rubbing his eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

"Don't be," you said softly, pulling him inside and closing the door. "That's what friends are for."

He followed you to the couch, dropping onto it with a heavy sigh. "I don't even know why I'm so upset. It's just a race."

You sat beside him, tucking your legs underneath you. "We both know it's never just a race."

Lando ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in all directions. "Everything's just... piling up. The pressure from the team, the media, the fans. Everyone expecting me to perform miracles every weekend."

"And you're too hard on yourself," you added, reaching for the ice cream.

"Says the person who threw her club in a water hazard last month."

You pointed your spoon at him. "That club deserved it. Betrayed me on the 16th hole.”

That got a small laugh out of him and you smiled softly. 

“I just don’t know what to do,” he admitted and you brought your hand up to his jaw, forcing him to look at you. 

“You just have to keep being you,” you said gently. “You are in a battle for the championship for a reason: you are a good driver and you deserve it. Even if it doesn’t work it out, you’re still a good driver. Nothing changes that.” 

He looked at you for a while, deep into your eyes, a small smile seeping through. “How do you always know what to say?” 

“Easy, I’m a genius,” you joked, lightening up the mood. “Now pick a movie please.”

—-------------------------------------

“I just don’t understand the two of you,” Max said to Lando as they got into an Uber, ready to head out to a club. 

“What’s not to understand?” Lando asked nonchalantly, not looking up from his phone. 

“You act like a married couple and you aren’t even dating,” his friend exclaimed. “It’s mad mate.”

Lando rolled his eyes, shooting Max a look. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends who have a little fun together every once in a while.”

“Mate she literally was the only person you would talk to after Brazil,” Max countered. 

“Look I get what you’re saying,” Lando said honestly. “But it’s just casual, we’ve both made that clear to each other many times. We’re both in the exact spot of our careers with no need to put a label on anything.”

“But would you want to settle down with her?” Max pressed. “Once everything settles down?” 

Lando thought for a moment and then shrugged, “I don’t really know. I’ve never thought about it.” 

Max groaned but the car had pulled to the curb, arriving at the destination before he could say anything else. Lando eagerly got out, leading the way to where you and some of your other friends were in a roped off section. 

You were already two drinks deep but that didn’t mean you didn’t catch the way Lando’s eyes flickered over your body, lingering on where your short dress hung tightly against your skin. 

You grinned as you saw him approach, holding up your glass in greeting.

"Look who finally decided to show up," you teased, sliding over to make room for him.

"Some of us have jobs that require actual effort," he quipped, signaling for a drink.

"Oh please, you just sit in a car and turn left sometimes," you fired back, earning a laugh from the group.

Lando settled in beside you, his arm casually draping over the back of the couch behind you. The closeness felt natural, comfortable in a way that should have set off alarm bells in your head. But two drinks in, you weren't thinking about boundaries or what this looked like to others.

"Dance with me?" you asked after your third drink, feeling loose and carefree.

“Nah, not right now, I need to talk to Max about something,” he said and you shrugged. 

“Suit yourself.”

Grabbing one of your other friends, you headed down to the main floor and felt yourself get lost in the music and moving your body. After a couple of songs, you felt a hand rest gently on your right hip and you turned your head to see an attractive guy staring back at you. 

“Is this okay?” He yelled over the music, and you nodded, motioning for his other hand. You wrapped it around your front and danced along to the beat, this guy pressed against you. 

You were having a good time, enjoying the attention and the rhythm of the music, when suddenly the guy was pulled away from you. You turned around, confused, to find Lando standing there, jaw clenched.

"What the hell?" you shouted over the music.

"I changed my mind about dancing," he said, stepping closer to you.

You rolled your eyes. "You can't just pull someone away like that."

"I just did," he replied, his hands finding your waist. "Is this okay?"

You should have been annoyed, but instead, you felt a thrill run through you. You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck as the music slowed slightly. The way he was looking at you—intense, possessive almost—made your stomach flip.

"What happened to talking to Max?" you asked, pressing closer to him.

"He was being annoying," Lando muttered. You looked back over to the section to see Max watching you, a smirk on his face. 

“Whatever, I’m mad at you. That guy was cute,” you whined in his ear. 

“I’m cuter,” he shot back, with a slight grin. You started to argue back, but his lips cut you off, moving against yours lazily. 

You melted into the kiss, your hands finding his hair as he pulled you closer. The bass thumped around you, but all you could focus on was the feeling of his lips against yours, the taste of whiskey on his tongue. It was different somehow—more intense than your previous encounters.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, you studied his face. "What was that about?"

"Just didn't like seeing some random guy's hands on you," he admitted, his voice low in your ear.

You raised an eyebrow. "Sounds suspiciously possessive for someone who's keeping things casual."

Lando's eyes flickered with something unreadable. "Maybe I'm just selective about who gets to dance with my friend."

"Is that what we're calling it now?" you teased, but there was an undercurrent of tension between you that hadn't been there before.

“Something like that.”

—-------------------------------------------------------

The season got busy after that last night out in Monaco and you didn’t really see any of your friends besides Lily for the next couple of months. It was when you were in Scotland for a tournament that you got a phone call that changed the trajectory of everything. 

“Hey dad, what’s up?” You said into your phone, walking through the hotel lobby. 

“Hey sweetheart, how was the tournament?” He asked. You could tell he was trying to be casual but something was clearly going on. 

“It was fine, not my best but whatever,” you started. “What’s wrong?’ 

“Just let me know when you get into your room, okay?” He replied and your heart started to race but you obeyed, moving as quickly as possible to get upstairs. 

“Okay, I’m alone, please tell me what’s going on,” you begged. 

“I wish I was there with you so badly honey, your friend Sophie was in a bad car accident this past weekend.”

Your heart dropped. Sophie’s friendship was something that had stood the test of time, having met one another in elementary school. You saw her almost every time you were back home and chatted weekly on the phone. 

“Is she okay?” You asked panicked, your dad hesitated and you just knew. 

"She didn't make it," your dad said softly. His voice cracked as he continued, "The funeral is set for next Tuesday."

The phone slipped from your grasp, clattering to the floor as your knees gave out. You couldn't breathe. Sophie—your Sophie—was gone. The room spun around you, and you pressed your palms against your eyes, trying to stop the tears that were already flowing.

When you finally managed to pick up the phone, your dad was still there, waiting.

"I'll book a flight home tonight," you whispered, your voice hollow.

The next few days passed in a blur. You withdrew from your upcoming tournaments, packed a bag, and flew home. The funeral was exactly as awful as you expected—Sophie's parents broken beyond repair, her siblings clinging to each other, and you, standing there feeling like half of your childhood had been ripped away.

Her fiance was grief-stricken and you tried to put on a brave face when you ran into him as you were leaving. 

“Luke, I’m so sorry,” you choked out, pulling him in tightly. He accepted your hug, before looking at you with a sad smile. 

“I’m just glad I had her while I could,” he said. “I know we were so young when we started dating but how could I regret when I got to wake up to her everyday.”

His words brought another wave of tears to your eyes and you cried with him, promising to still stay in touch. It was later, when you were back at your parents’ house, sitting on the dock by yourself, that you reflected back on what he said. 

Life is so short; anything could happen. This event shocked you right off the course you were on. You didn’t know if you wanted the carefree, casual life anymore. You decided you want something more, something meaningful, something that would last. You wanted to be more intentional with your life, relationships, and family. 

What was the point of getting to experience all these amazing things if you didn’t have anyone to share them with? Your mind wandered to Lando but you quickly shut that down. He didn’t want something serious. He was the perfect character in this chapter of your life that was ending. 

You stayed with your parents for a couple more days before flying back to Monaco. As you were driving to the airport, a text popped up on your console from Lando asking if he could see you when you got back. 

You hit call before you could talk yourself out of it.

He picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, you—”

“Don’t talk,” you cut him off softly, your voice steady but quiet. “Please, just let me say this.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end. Then: “Okay.”

You took a shaky breath.

“I’m not the same person I was a few weeks ago. I wish I could explain it better, but... something shifted. Sophie dying—it broke something in me. Or maybe it cracked something open. I don’t know.”

“I’ve spent the last few years convinced that fun was all I needed. That keeping things casual made me free, untouchable. But watching someone I loved be buried in a dress she was supposed to get married in? It just made everything… feel small. Temporary. Pointless.”

You closed your eyes, forcing yourself to keep going. “I want more now, Lando. I want something that means something. I want to build a life with someone. A home. Mornings. Boring Sundays. I want the kind of love that stays.”

Your throat burned, but you didn’t stop.

“You’ve been everything I’ve needed this past year. Someone who wanted the exact same things that I did, but things have changed for me, and I can’t be who you want me to be anymore. I think it’s best if we part ways now. It was a pleasure to burn.”

And with that, you hung up.

You didn’t wait for a response. You couldn’t.

—------------------------------------------------------------

You missed Lando more than you thought you would. It had been two weeks since that call and you hadn’t heard anything from him. It was late nights when you were scrolling through your phone that you had to stop yourself from sending him a funny meme or texting him good luck on a race. It hadn’t occurred to you that maybe the two of you were something a little more than casual until now. 

Max had just sent you a frowny face emoji after the call with Lando, so you knew he must be upset, but he never reached out so you tried to shrug it off.

The last tournament of the season was here and you were in Ireland, prepped and ready to go. The first day of practice went by smoothly but you were overwhelmed by the fan attention you were getting on the actual start of the tournament. 

Now you were pretty popular, in terms of female golfers, but your Twitter was blowing up all of the first day. You hadn’t had time to check it, just seen that you were being mentioned a lot, which was confusing because you didn’t even think you were off to a hot start. 

At the end of the first day you were signing a fan’s hat when she said something that stopped you in your tracks. 

“I’m so happy for you and Lando,” she gushed. “I’m a big F1 fan so it’s like my two worlds colliding.” 

You gave her a weird look, “What do you mean?” 

She just laughed, “It’s not a secret anymore remember? You guys are so cute together.” 

She walked off before you could say anything. You wouldn’t have had the chance to anyways because Lily was stomping angrily towards you.

“I thought we were friends,” she yelled at you and you flinched back.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, bewildered. 

“You and Lando?” She pressed, clearly pissed. “When were you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?” You exclaimed. 

“That you’re dating!” She snapped. Your eyes went wide as you stared at her. 

“We are not dating,” you said. “I literally stopped talking to him like two weeks ago.”

“Then what’s this?” She asked, pushing her phone in your face. It was Lando’s Instagram story, a selfie of him at this very golf course with the caption: “last tournament of the season for my girlfriend, go get em @.yourusername”

Your jaw dropped, eyes widening as you stared at the screen. The world around you seemed to slow down as you tried to process what you were seeing.

"Girlfriend?" you whispered, the word feeling foreign on your tongue.

Lily's anger softened slightly at your genuine shock. "You really didn't know?"

"I—no," you stammered, taking her phone to look more closely at the post. There he was, looking as handsome as ever in a McLaren cap, the familiar backdrop of the course behind him. "This makes no sense. We're not together. We haven't even spoken since I called him after Sophie's funeral."

Your hands trembled slightly as you pulled out your own phone, ignoring the hundreds of notifications to dial Lando's number. It rang several times before going to voicemail.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus. He was here. At your tournament. With that caption.

You weren’t sure if you were going to punch him or kiss him when you saw him.

You found him just off the 18th green.

He was standing beside a sponsor tent, sunglasses perched on his head, arms crossed casually as he chatted with someone from the tournament staff. He hadn’t seen you yet.

But you saw him.

And your heart did that stupid skip it always did when he was near.

You stormed over, not caring who was watching, stopping dead in front of him. He turned just as you approached, the easy smile falling slightly as he read your expression.

“Y/n—”

“You can’t just show up here and post something like that,” you hissed, voice low but sharp. “Do you know how confused I’ve been all day? What are you doing?”

He looked at you for a long moment, then nodded slowly, as if steeling himself. “You didn’t let me talk.”

“What?” you blinked.

“Two weeks ago,” he said, stepping closer, voice quiet but fierce. “You called me, told me it was over, and then hung up before I could say anything. You said what you felt—and I get that, I do—but you never gave me the chance to tell you how I feel.”

You opened your mouth, but he shook his head.

“Let me finish this time,” he said softly.

Your breath caught.

“I was scared. At first, I didn’t even realize what we were becoming. I thought I didn’t want something serious. But then I started waking up thinking about you. Wondering what city you were in. Watching your tournaments when I should have been studying track data. Missing you even when we’d just hung out the day before.”

You stared at him, frozen.

“I didn’t know what I wanted—until I lost you.”

He took one more step, close enough now that you could see the nerves in his eyes despite his calm tone.

“I don’t want casual anymore,” he said simply. “Not with you.”

Your heart was pounding now, so loud it felt like a roar in your ears.

“I want the boring Sundays. I want the quiet mornings. I want you. And I’d only ever settle down for you, Y/n. Because I’m in love with you.”

You let out a shaky breath.

“I thought you didn’t want that kind of life…”

“I didn’t,” he admitted, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Until you showed me what it could feel like. Until you made me realize I’d never be able to find anything better than this—than us.”

You stood there for a second, trying to speak around the lump in your throat.

“I didn’t know,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said gently. “And I don’t blame you for protecting your heart. But I’m here now. I’m ready. If you’ll have me.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes—not from sadness, but from the overwhelming flood of emotion you had buried since the call that day on the dock.

You nodded.

He grinned.

And then you stepped forward and kissed him. Not like you had before—not drunk, not teasing, not fleeting, but real. Lasting. Like something worth holding onto.

[httpknjoon]

the princess and the rockstar | jjk [1]

plot | Once upon a time, there was a crowd-favorite crown princess who found herself romantically involved with a famous rockstar. See how they will try to navigate the world and maybe live happily ever after.

w.c | 3.3k

genres | angst, fluff, modern royalty!au, celebrity!au, established relationship!au

pairing | rockstar!jungkook x princess!reader

note | oh my god, finally. i'm here, it's here. almost took me years to finally write the chapters. this is the first chapter, I just broadened the spotted drabble. but I hope you'll enjoy reading it :)

main masterlist | series masterlist | spotify playlist

[AN EXCERPT FROM THE INTERVIEW]

Growing up in a palace may seem like a fairy tale for most people, but for Queen YN, the Sapphire Palace is home. Born a year after her father was crowned as the king, Queen YN of Zafiro was introduced to the royal lifestyle before she could even learn how to talk.

“I think I learned the royalty’s etiquette first before saying my first words,” she quipped with a small smile. “This might come off as unexpected, but my mother is much stricter than my dad when it comes to our behavior. She was my first teacher in everything and made sure that we followed every rule in the book.”

With her mother’s strict upbringing, Queen YN was already aware from a very young age that she was not just like any other kids in her old preparatory school. She shared how her mother will teach her about royal traditions and responsibility, while her father will balance everything out by organizing a weekly family event like a movie marathon night, where they would just watch films Queen YN and Princess Astrid chose until they fall asleep on their unusually large couch.

“Maybe it was because they grew up in different status of life. Mom always wanted me to be a great example and do no wrong since I am the model for young Zafiroans… But now that I’m older, I thought of it as a result of the scrutiny she got as a young commoner who suddenly got everyone’s attention after marrying one of the world’s most eligible bachelors back then.”

“Isn’t this whole outfit a little too inappropriate?”

Looking up from your sketchpad, you see Astrid standing before you, rocking a themed outfit with her favorite platform boots. She looked amazing and prepared for tonight’s concert, the one she begged you to chaperone her in. But based on your mother’s tone through the video call, your sister might have to change her clothes later. She always does outfit checks whenever someone in the family has somewhere to be, wanting to make sure everyone is well-dressed.

“Sweetheart, I think it’s very much appropriate. They are going to a rock concert for Pete’s sake, everyone who’s coming will be sporting that style.” 

Your father comes on the screen, saving his princesses as usual. You and Astrid shared a knowing glance as you knew what your father was doing. Even though they are a million miles away from their royal duties, you two can still sense the awkward air between your parents’ differences.

“But not everyone is a royal princess, sweetie,” your mother replied, not wanting to back down from her initial opinion.

Now this is where you step in, “Hi, Papa!”

“Hello, my princess.” Your dad waved. “And what are you wearing tonight?”

You stood up from Astrid’s bed, the one you have been lying on ever since the call started, and distanced yourself from the camera to show them the Prada dress you have on. In your mother’s standards, it’s perfectly appropriate. Covered shoulders? Check! Almost knee-length? Check! Classy and graceful? Check! 

Although the dress fits your mother’s standards, you did not wear it specifically because of that. It’s just that you wouldn’t know what to wear to a rock concert, you've never been to one. Your closet lacks the style of clothes Astrid has, and even though your sister is wonderful in what she’s wearing, you don’t think you can wear something like that comfortably. It’s something new, and new is always uncomfortable to you. And the Prada dress is something familiar to you. It’s better.

“See! That’s how I want you to dress up as a princess, Astrid. Very elegant,” your mother told your sister, who’s standing next to you.

Knowing how the comment might make your little sister feel, you gave her a side hug, “Mooom, this is my style, and I think Astrid looks exceptional with her outfit. She’s so much more stylish than I am. I’m sure Vogue will write her an article as soon as they see her outfit later.”

Your mom hummed for a few seconds, “Okay. But don’t take the jacket off when you’re out of the venue.”

You felt your sister perk up beside you, “How about during the concert?”

“Fine, but no taking pictures with the leather jacket off,” she said sternly, but you and Astrid were already smiling from ear to ear.

“Thank you, Mom!”

“Okay, my loves. We have to go now, and I think you two should too. Don’t make your Uncle Eddie wait, you should be ready before 7,” your father reminded you.

No matter how high his position is in Zafiro, he makes sure that his family doesn’t cause any unnecessary inconvenience to his staff members, including his courtier, whom you and Astrid always called Uncle Eddie. He has been your father’s best friend ever since middle school, where they met. They were so close that you and Astrid, the royal princesses, attended his wedding as flower girls, which was the first time that considered to be a commoner’s wedding was considered.

“We’re just going to touch up our hair and makeup. Then, we’re good,” you smiled. “Please take care there.”

“And please get me one of their wool scarves, Papa!” your younger sister exclaimed.

“We will keep that in mind, Dee-dee.” Your father smiled, calling Astrid by her childhood nickname. “Enjoy your night, okay? Listen to Eddie’s instructions—”

Your mother cuts him off, “And Astrid, listen to YN. Okay?”

“Yes, Mommy,” she nods.

After some goodbyes and ending the call, you and Astrid found yourself finishing your looks in her room. Loud music, which you assumed to be by the band you’re about to see tonight, played in Astrid’s speakers while you looked through her closet to find something that could make you fit in even a little.

“Does this go with this?” You turned around, holding her black knee-high boots next to your dress.

Astrid looked back, holding her eyeliner just above her right eye, “Yes.” She grinned, “But this isn’t a country concert, YN.”

You sighed, “Come on, I’m trying. I don’t want to look like a sore thumb in the crowd.” 

“As if being the crown princess of this country is not enough for you to stand out,” she teased, making you roll your eyes. “Wear it! It goes with your dress, and I swear no one will bat an eyelash at your outfit. Everyone there will focus on the sweaty guys playing on stage.”

Sweaty guys playing on stage. The thought somehow made you cringe. What does this band do on stage anyway? You barely have any idea about Sweet September, even though they fill Astrid’s playlist in almost a hundred percent. You only read their name before in a news article about their work with the UN against cyberbullying. But other than that, nothing. Boy bands (Astrid claims they are a man-band, like, based on her words, they play real rock music.) rarely interest you. Starting when you were younger up to now, the only type of concerts you’ve been to were orchestral and jazz concerts, which are more tranquil than a rock concert.

“Do you think it will piss Mom off if I go with a black lipstick?” Astrid breaks out of your stream of thoughts.

“Definitely.”

“Perfect,” she laughed before swiping the jet-black lipstick over her lips.

You chuckled, shaking your head, as you sat on the edge of her bed to zip up the boots, “Can you, like, give me a quick briefing about this band before we go there?”

“Hmm, okay.” Astrid remained focused on the mirror. “So, Sweet September is a four-member pop-rock band that was formed two years ago. Carter is their drummer and the oldest member of the band. He’s usually the more chill and caring one, like an old grandpa,” she laughed. “Then, we have Woosung, who’s the sarcastic one. He plays the bass guitar and also produces and writes most of their songs. There’s Mingyu, their lead guitarist. He’s the funniest one and like the co-founder of the group. His sister was dating Carter, who’s now like his brother-in-law.”

“And who’s the other founder? Carter?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

Astrid shook her head, “No. That would be Jungkook.”

“And what about him?” you asked after the sparkles in her eyes got brighter.

She had to pause and look at you. “He’s the lead vocalist. Also, their frontman. Really, really talented, but one of his main skills is like pulling new fans into the group. So be careful out there.”

You chuckled, figuring that she was probably just exaggerating over the guy, “Is he that good?”

“Oh my god, YN. You have no idea. He’s the face and the voice of the band! I personally love Mingyu, but man, Jungkook can easily make me switch lanes if he wants me to. That face? With that voice?! He’s God’s favorite.” Astrid went on before squinting her eyes at you. “I swear, if you see him perform tonight, you’ll get me. You might even fall in love tonight.”

“Yeah, right.” You stood up with her heavy boots and checked yourself out in her full-length mirror. 

The boots feel different, but you’ll get used to them. Hopefully.  You don’t have a pair since you usually opt for shoes and sandals that complement your dresses and other formal wear. For tonight, for the sake of fitting in, you wanted to mix Astrid’s fashion style with yours. Even a little.

“Your Royal Highnesses, Sir Edward asked me to tell you that your ride’s waiting outside,” a royal servant knocked on the door.

Astrid picked up her leather jacket while you reached for your purse. Smiling at her,  you asked, “Let’s go?”

A thin sheet of smoke almost veiled the ‘No Smoking’ sign in the green room as Jungkook took a hit from the freshly lit cigarette stick between his fingers. He exhaled slowly, hoping that every drag would calm down his nerves. 

“Hey, that’s not allowed here,” Carter comes in with his drumsticks in his hands. “Tara will kill you if she knew you’re doing that.”

Jungkook shrugged nonchalantly, “Just one.” 

Carter, being the big brother he is, picked up something in their youngest’s behavior. He knew Jungkook did not smoke regularly. The last time he saw him smoke was earlier this year during the launch of their second album. Twirling his drumstick between his fingers, Carter sat back on the sofa.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook shook his head. “It’s just it’s a first show for this tour, and my heart’s already exploding.”

“Alright, that’s okay. But the moment you hit the stage, whatever you’re feeling will be gone anyway,” the older smiled, tapping his shoulder.

Jungkook smiled, but his shoulders remained tensed. When the door swung open, he immediately soaked the cigarette in the soda can on the table. He quietly hoped the air diffuser in the room would clear out the cigarette smell to avoid their manager’s reprimands. But it was Mingyu who came in, unaware. He has his eyes glued to his phone.

“Do you think they’re coming?” he suddenly asked, looking up at Jungkook as he sat next to him.

Jungkook raised a brow, “Who?”

“Zafiro’s royal family.”

That made the lead vocalist and the drummer chuckle, which offended Mingyu, who got defensive, “Okay, I am not being delusional here. But I think we all know that the younger princess is a big fan.”

“Doesn’t mean she’ll drag the whole family here,” Carter laughs, shaking his head.

“You never know… And you,” Mingyu points his finger at his best friend, “Don’t act like you will not be delighted if Princess YN shows up here tonight.”

The name is not new in Jungkook’s ears. Hell, even in his head, Princess YN is not a new visitor. He knew a few facts about her than a normal person would, but he can justify that by saying that she was (or is) basically his recent fascination. Is four years ago still considered recent?

He knew you were the same age as him. You have been in the limelight so much longer than him, and probably handle the attention much better than he does. He is aware of the royal protocols. Or that one Vogue article you wrote to raise awareness about Zafiro’s rising jewelry exports. You have your advocacy, just like any other royal family member, but something about you stuck with him the first time he saw you in a magazine interview clip years ago.

He remembered replaying that short six-minute interview over and over again, where you talk about things that Jungkook usually finds boring. But the smile that glows on your face as you tell stories pulled him in.

“She won’t,” Jungkook mumbled confidently, but he could feel his fingers itching for another stick of cigarette.

“You two will have your own entrance and exit spots. Ronnie and Ben would accompany you two to the entrance and would meet you at the same gate after the concert.”

Your father’s trusty courtier, Eddie, guided you and your sister on what you’re supposed to do. There were rules you had to remember, so you listened carefully to make sure you won’t forget a thing. Especially since Astrid practically begged your parents not to have bodyguards with her for tonight, wanting to feel that sense of normalcy for once.

“Is that all, Uncle?”

Astrid already had her arms crossed as she asked that. It’s been fifteen minutes since your car arrived in front of this secret entrance to the concert. But because of the King’s instructions, you two were held up.

Eddie smiled, noticing your sister’s tone, “I know you are excited about this concert, Your Royal Highness. But His Majesty still has one last message… and this is a very important one, so listen.” Your sister sighed, you leaned forward to hear whatever his about to say, “Please remind my lovely girls to enjoy the night amidst my tiring instructions. Take pictures and sing along. I would love to hear stories from them about this very important concert, based on what my Astrid said, when my queen and I get back from our short trip to Scotland. Follow what your Uncle Eddie says.”

A small smile formed on your lips with that. Finally, Eddie lets you two go with your bodyguards until the gate. Then, a nice concert staff welcomed you into the venue and led you and your sister to your seats.

“Oh, my god. I cannot believe Papa let us come here alone,” your sister said as she slipped the Xyloband into her wrist.

“I know…” Your voice trailed off when you heard the people singing along to the song playing not too far away. You turned to the staff,  “Excuse me, is the concert starting already?”

“No, Ma’am. We’re just playing the band’s music videos before they perform on stage. But they will be performing in a few minutes.”

You nodded with that. It didn’t take long for you to get into your seats. The seats are not that close or far from the main stage, and it’s in the center. For safety purposes, your father and the security team agreed not to put you two in the floor area where you can see the band better and closer. Nonetheless, you knew Astrid would love any seat she would get in this place.

Since you heard from Astrid that the tickets were sold out as soon as it’s started selling, you assumed your father pulled some strings to make this possible. It made you wonder even more what’s good in Sweet September. Other than Astrid's introduction earlier, you made an effort to read a couple of articles about them, and you later learned that tonight is the start of their world tour. You learned that they have a huge following in your country, and fans petitioned for them to visit Zafiro, which resulted in tonight.

“Oh, look at that! Look at those signs!”

Your sister was laughing while she pointed her finger all over the crowded arena. The joy on her face was enough for you to smile. But still, your eyes followed where she was pointing. Each sign has big, bold, easily noticeable letters and words. They were aggressive and funny, with one of them asking to put oil on the lead vocalist’s body. 

What was that supposed to mean? 

You wanted to ask Astrid, but she was already talking to another fan who was sitting beside her. The fan seemed surprised and delighted at the same time when she locked eyes with you for a second. You just smiled. As a highly-regarded crown princess, you know that they least expect you to show up at a rock concert next to them. You then turned to your other side, where you immediately locked eyes with a lady who seemed a bit older than you. She instantly looked away and slowly looked back after a few seconds, thinking that you were not looking at her anymore. But you are. And you can tell who she is by her awkward aura and stiff movements.

As part of showing respect to a royal, a commoner cannot talk to you unless you speak to them first. So you decided to say something in a mumble, “Did the King hire you?”

You don’t want your sister to hear it. You want her to focus on the fact that she is free from your parents’ overprotectiveness tonight. You can read the hesitation on the woman’s face, but you can already tell that she is a secret security agent Eddie hired.

“It’s fine. I understand,” you gave her a reassuring smile. “Please, enjoy the concert too.”

The woman nods and bows subtly. Turning away, you see, Astrid had already made new friends. They were taking pictures and talking about their excitement for tonight until one of the girls told her,

“It’s a surprise to see you in here, Your Royal Highness.”

“Please, just call me Astrid, or you can add that princess title if you’re uncomfortable with calling me by name,” she quipped, and they laughed. “Actually, the King only let me come here when Princess YN agreed to accompany me.”

Her friends’ mouths all formed into a small o. You waved at them, and they bowed their heads. Suddenly, the lights slowly dimmed down, and everyone began screaming– including Astrid. To say that your sister is excited was an understatement. It’s like she slept with a hanger in her mouth with how wide she’s smiling. Your cheeks hurt for her. But you’re happy to see her happy.

Taps on the microphone can be heard before someone clears their throat, building up everyone’s excitement. You stood there, just listening to them and observing.

“Everyone, welcome to the denim jungle!”

Someone began playing a good riff on a bass guitar. The band’s silhouette is recognizable on stage over the thick, white smoke. In the first beat of the drum, the lights snapped open. There, your eyes spotted the lead vocalist. His hair is damp for some reason, yet it goes perfectly with his mostly dark outfit.

“Zafiro, let me hear you scream!” he growled into the microphone.

A fucking growl. A growl that basically popped everyone’s balloon, releasing a thousand screams and cheers from everyone in the Crystalline Stadium. Everything is so loud. You’re finding it hard to breathe. You can’t breathe, but you are enjoying it. It’s confusing. The screams. The instruments are playing. Your heartbeats thumping. 

“I swear, if you see him perform tonight, you’ll get me.” You clutched your chest as you heard Astrid’s statement from earlier in your head. “You might even fall in love tonight.”

Oh, no.

additional note: i understand if some of y'all want to be removed from the taglist, it has been so long! feel free to reach out if u want to be removed <3

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[claramelooo]

HEYYY! It's me again! I'm so happy with all the support words and the great proportion this story is taking that I got excited and I just want write more and more to you guys!! (I'm vacations btw lol)

First of all, I would like to say that I don't know much about the US admission system, so if I got it wrong, please correct me.

Second, if you have any suggestions to improve the story's progress or speed up my writing, feel free to contact me.

Last but not least: enjoy it and comment plsss <3

MINORS MUST NOT INTERACT

Paring: Mommy Dom Wanda x Brat Fem reader

WARNING: +18

Summary : Wanda wraps you in the web she has created.

Read here: Prologue | Part 1 – Predator | Part 3 - On your knees

Velvet Chains

The Prey

It was around 3 a.m., and Wanda sighed, staring at the ceiling of the bedroom. The silence was broken only by the lazy whirring of the fan. Vision lay asleep beside her, turned away, breathing deeply. The space between them on the bed felt like an unbridgeable chasm. She turned her head to look at him for a moment but felt a weight in her chest as she realized there was no warmth there, no real connection.

Sex with Vision had always been… functional, almost mechanical. It was always about him—his needs, his desires. There were moments when she tried to convince herself that this was normal, that love was above all a commitment, but nights like this made it clear: something was terribly wrong.

Wanda shut her eyes tightly, trying to push away the frustration building up inside her. It wasn’t just the sex. It was everything. The suffocating predictability, the lack of intensity, the absence of something she had never been able to name but missed with an almost painful ferocity.

And then there was you.

The memory of your face, the way you looked at her during dinner, came rushing back like a storm. Your eyes held a mix of defiance and uncertainty—something Wanda couldn’t get out of her mind. Since seeing you, there had been a growing need inside her, something primal and overwhelming. It wasn’t just desire—though that was undeniable. It was the way you made her feel, as if she were alive for the first time in years.

Wanda sat up in bed, running her hands through her hair, frustrated with herself. It was wrong. That much was obvious. You were young, inexperienced—a delicate soul who deserved freedom, not the weight of the obsession she felt growing inside her.

But the more she tried to rationalize, the more inevitable it seemed. There was something about you—your innocence mixed with a quiet resilience, as if the world couldn’t break you, no matter how hard it tried. It was hypnotic. She wanted to shape you, to dominate your strength and fragility all at once, to explore every nuance of you until there was nothing left to hide.

A shiver ran down her spine, and she pressed her fingers against her temples, trying to stifle the thoughts.

“This has to stop,” she murmured to herself. “This isn’t who I am.”

But the truth was, she wasn’t sure who she was anymore. With Vision, with the life she had built—it all felt so distant, so colorless. And then you appeared, and the entire world gained a new vibrancy, an intensity she hadn’t realized she craved until she felt it.

She looked at Vision again, still turned away, still oblivious to the storm raging beside him. For a moment, Wanda felt a wave of guilt, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. Because the reality was clear: she would never feel whole with Vision.

The clock read 3:23 a.m. when Wanda slipped out of bed, her bare feet meeting the cold floor. She needed space, needed to think, but she knew that every step she took was leading her deeper into dangerous territory—a path of no return.

Reaching the living room, she grabbed a bottle of whiskey—Vision only drank it to celebrate work promotions—and took a swig straight from the bottle, hoping to drown out the chaotic thoughts of you, of Vision, of herself.

But they didn’t go away.

As the alcohol coursed through her veins, Wanda felt her body float. And then, she felt ready to do something she had never done before. With trembling hands from adrenaline and excitement, Wanda picked up her laptop from the coffee table and searched for what had been on her mind since the moment she first laid eyes on you.

The video was artificial, the expressions of pleasure fake, the moans hollow. But the scene itself sparked Wanda’s imagination.

She pictured you moaning beneath her as she slid a good, thick strap inside your tight little pussy, pinning your arms above your head, leaving you completely at her mercy. She imagined slapping your pretty face until you gave in, sticking your tongue out to accommodate her fingers, letting her lubricate them before slowly sliding them into your tight little ass, driving you wild.

Denying you orgasms until you begged her with teary, pleading eyes. Pushing you until you finally said the one word you so desperately needed to say—and that she so desperately needed to hear.

Wanda also fantasized about riding your face, making you drown in her wet pussy, suffocating on her juices. Marking your neck and chest with bruises she would proudly touch the next day.

These thoughts alone were enough to make Wanda forget the adult film on her screen and focus entirely on you. Her fingers worked diligently over her clit, her body trembling as the signs of orgasm built within her. Moments later, she came, her eyes rolling back, her legs shaking.

Oh, fuck. She had to have you soon.

 [...]

The city library was a sanctuary of sacred silence, where whispered voices mingled with the soft rustle of turning pages. You had returned to the country with a single purpose: to study. Your mother never missed a chance to remind you that your bright future hinged on a prestigious university. But after everything, Yale felt like an unattainable dream.

Not anymore.

You still had a chance to transfer and adapt to a new routine—though adjusting had never been hard for you. You’d spent your 18th birthday alone, blowing out the candle on a strawberry cupcake someone had given you, wishing for the power to change your life.

And now, here it was.

Determined, you worked tirelessly to achieve an excellent GPA, nurtured relationships with your professors, and spent the remaining months meticulously preparing your early decision application.

Then came the waiting—waiting and waiting for that damn call. Time passed. You turned 20—too old for a Christian boarding school, too young to face the world—and found yourself staring out of the same window.

When your father finally called, his expressionless voice carried the weight of your shattered dreams.

And now, here you were, standing before an old building with beautiful architecture that probably held some intriguing history. With a pile of notebooks and a battered binder in hand, you pushed open the heavy doors and stepped into the library's main hall. The comforting scent of aged paper and polished wood enveloped you.

The plan was straightforward: find a corner, avoid distractions, and lose yourself in formulas, essays, and reading lists for the next few hours.

But fate, it seemed, had other ideas.

As soon as you entered, your eyes locked onto something—or rather, someone—that made your stomach churn. Behind the lending counter stood Wanda Maximoff.

She wore thin glasses that only accentuated the intensity of her piercing gaze. Her hair was tied back haphazardly, loose strands framing her face. When you walked in, she looked up, and a dangerous spark flashed in her eyes—something intense, hypnotic, and unnervingly expectant.

It was as though she’d known you were coming.

You felt the shift in the atmosphere before you could process it. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction—dangerous, predatory.

"Oh, my, my… What a surprise," Wanda murmured, her voice low and sweet, yet carrying an underlying weight that twisted your stomach. She left her computer and moved toward you, hands clasped in front of her like she owned the place.

You cursed softly.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure, Dekta?” she asked, her accent curling around your name in a way that made your core tighten despite your best efforts.

“I’m here to study.”

“Ah, yes… Yale, isn’t it?” Her lips curved into something between a smirk and a sneer, making your fists clench at your sides. “Your parents mentioned it,” she mused. “I admire ambition—though ambition without focus is a waste, don’t you think?”

Your eyes narrowed. "I have focus."

She took another step closer, her presence suffocating. “Do you now?”

“I’m not a child, Wanda,” you snapped—perhaps a bit too loudly for a space that demanded quiet.

For a brief moment, her pupils expanded, eclipsing the green in her eyes. If you weren’t so innocent, you might have seen the excitement pooling in her gaze. But you felt it—the way your body betrayed you, heat pooling low in your belly, your nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of your bra.

Her expression shifted, the intensity replaced by a false, sugary smile.

“Oh, of course, because you’re such a big girl now, aren’t you?” Wanda tilted her head, her tone deceptively kind but dripping with condescension. Her eyes seemed to dissect you, reading your every reaction like an open book.

“I’m an adult,” you retorted, forcing your voice to remain steady. “I don’t need anyone treating me like I’m still in a school uniform.”

Wanda’s steps were deliberate as she sidled past you, gesturing lazily to a nearby table. “An adult, you say? Funny, because what I see…” Her gaze swept over you and then to the table, “…is a little girl with big dreams, crumbling at the slightest challenge.”

Your entire body tensed. You loathed the way she spoke to you, as though she had the right to dissect your maturity.

“You don’t know me,” you shot back, defensive.

“Don’t I?” She raised an eyebrow, her smile slow and menacing. “Then why are you trembling, Dekta?”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but the words caught in your throat. She was right. Your hands, clutching the binder, were trembling slightly, your heart pounding too fast.

Wanda noticed. Of course, she noticed.

“See?” she whispered, stepping closer, her voice soothing yet laced with control as she reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Adult or not, you still have a lot to learn.” Her words dropped to a murmur, almost too soft to hear: “And I’ll teach you everything.”

Before you could react, Wanda straightened, creating distance as she adjusted her glasses—a deliberate motion that left you inexplicably yearning for her touch again.

“Now, find your table and study. Show me this sharp ambition of yours.”

“You don’t control me,” you snapped, anger flaring briefly.

She chuckled, the sound devoid of warmth. “Oh, Dekta… I don’t have to. You’re already doing exactly what I want.”

With that, she turned and walked back to the counter, leaving you trembling and unsettled, as though you’d just lost a game you didn’t know you were playing.

After 40 minutes of calming down and trying to stop thinking about the woman, you finally manage to focus and regain control of your thoughts. Math had always been something very abstract to you, perhaps even more so than philosophy. There was something about numbers that seemed to elude the logic of your brain, as if every equation were a puzzle with its solution written in a language you couldn't quite comprehend.

You sigh, your eyes fixed on the book's page, where a series of elegantly aligned formulas stared back at you with an almost cruel indifference. It had always been this way. Essays were your forte—your words flowed like a river, structured and persuasive, but numbers? They slipped through your fingers like sand.

With the pencil in your hand, you begin to scribble what seemed to be the first step toward a solution, but your mind soon wavers. Math, with all its precision, left little room for intuition. Every mistake was exposed, every misstep impossible to hide. You had always hated that.

Suddenly, Wanda's presence invades your thoughts again, like a shadow you can't escape. The way she looked at you, as if she knew exactly where your weaknesses lay. Worse, as if she was willing to exploit them.

You shake your head, trying to banish her image, but it’s useless. It’s as if she were still there, standing behind you, watching, waiting for you to fail.

And maybe that was exactly what you needed.

"Okay," you whisper to yourself, turning the page of the notebook with more determination. "This isn't about her. This is about me."

Your strength had always been your ability to adapt and overcome challenges. No matter how impossible something seemed, you had an inner resilience that kept you trying. That was what made you special, even when everything seemed against you.

But that strength came at a price. You were stubborn, almost obsessive, and the idea of failing—for yourself, for your parents, for Wanda—was intolerable. That need to prove your worth, to be good enough, was both a gift and a curse.

Feeling a touch on your shoulder, you jump as if you’d been shocked. Looking at the hand that touched you, it belonged to an elderly woman with a friendly expression on her face.

"Looks like your study session was productive, right?" the lady asked in a voice trembling with age. You simply nodded, still confused by the sudden approach. "But I must inform you, dear. We’re closing now."

"Oh. Yes, of course… I’m sorry," you said as you stood, hastily packing your belongings. "I didn’t even notice the time." You offered an embarrassed explanation.

The lady just laughed, sweetly.

"It's all right! Wanda asked us not to disturb you," she said as if it were nothing, but for you… you felt your pulse quicken with your heartbeat, felt your heart warm at Wanda's indirect gesture.

You looked around, hoping Wanda would appear again to provoke you—to make you surrender to her dominant aura.

But with a click, the library lights turned off, leaving you alone with your confused thoughts.

Letting out a tired sigh, you enter your house. Today had been exhausting, but your mind was at peace from finally breaking out of your loop of procrastination and self-sabotage. It was draining, but it was gratifying—enough to make you proud of yourself.

Arriving in the living room, you see your mother smiling, which makes you raise an eyebrow at her unusual gesture. Noticing you, she stood up, laughing.

"Sweetheart! Come here!" she called, making grand gestures that filled the room.

As you reached the center of the living room, you saw her.

There she was. Wanda Maximoff, sitting in your living room as if she owned the place. Her posture was impeccable—relaxed, but not sloppy. Long legs crossed, her expression composed. She held a teacup in her left hand, her long fingers resting on the porcelain as if it were a luxury item.

Your heart raced. You froze in the doorway, looking from your mother to Wanda and back to your mother.

“Oh, sweetheart, finally!” your mother exclaimed, her voice full of enthusiasm. "I can hardly believe our luck. Wanda offered to help you with your studies! You know how much I worry about your preparation for Yale, and now she's willing to guide you!"

You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. Everything felt like a blur. Wanda? The woman who had just turned your afternoon into an emotional whirlwind? Now she was here, in your house, looking more dangerous than ever?

"I simply did what anyone would," Wanda replied, her voice soft but firm. The tone carried a duality: apparent humility, but a pride you could feel beneath the surface. She rose slowly, placing the teacup on the coffee table. Her gaze met yours, and you felt that same shiver from the library.

"Good evening, Dekta," she said with an intonation that made your skin tingle. “I hope you don’t mind my visit. Your mother and I were discussing how I might be helpful for your academic ambitions.”

“Of course,” you responded automatically, trying to keep your composure. “Thank you so much for your help, Wanda.”

Wanda smiled, a small, calculated smile. There was no genuine warmth in it, only something... satisfying. As if she were celebrating an invisible victory.

"In fact," she continued, taking a step closer to you, "I thought we could make this mutually beneficial. Your studies require dedication, and I noticed you have potential. In exchange for my guidance, perhaps you could help me a few hours a week at the library. There are tasks that require... youthful energy."

Your mother seemed more than thrilled with the idea. “Oh, that would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? You’d spend more time learning, in such an inspiring environment!”

You knew you had no choice. Your mother was already beaming, and any refusal would be a family disaster. But above that, there was Wanda, with that look that seemed to pierce your soul, as if she knew that deep down, you didn’t want to refuse either.

"Sure," you finally replied, trying to sound neutral. “That sounds great.”

Wanda took a small step back, satisfied. "Excellent. We’ll start tomorrow."

Your mother clapped her hands, excited. "I’m so proud of you, sweetheart! And so grateful, Wanda, for being willing to help my baby.”

Hearing your mother’s last words, Wanda’s body tensed, clearly disliking the way she referred to you.

Wanda looked at you again, placing a light smile on her face, but her eyes... they had an almost predatory gleam.

“It will be my pleasure,” she said, but you knew there was much more to that phrase than your mother could understand. "Well, it’s late, and I still need to put Tommy and Billy to bed. S/n, would you walk me to the door?"

Finally, you snapped out of your trance upon hearing your name. "O-of course."

As the older woman passed through the door, she turned to look at you again, her eyes gleaming. “You looked beautiful today, darling.”

The compliment made you blush, and the air felt thin, making it hard to breathe.

“Hmm, what do we say when we’re complimented, Dekta?” Wanda broke your trance once again, touching your chin in a firm grip, forcing you to look at her.

"Thank you, Wanda," you replied softly, in an almost submissive tone. Almost. The exhaustion of the day weighed on your shoulders, and Wanda’s sweet voice left you weak, hypnotizing you and slowly turning you into a needy kitten.

"Good girl." She caressed your face with her fingertips, almost as if you were a raw diamond—precious and ready to be shaped. By her. By her hands.

You hadn’t noticed—perhaps due to exhaustion—but Wanda's hands were trembling. The woman trembled as she touched you, as she felt the warmth emanating from your fragrant, untouched skin. Wanda felt blessed, as if finally that scared kitten was learning to trust her.

"We’ll see each other tomorrow, yes? Good night, beautiful girl." She didn’t want to say goodbye to you. She wanted to stay, make you kneel, rest your head on her lap, and stroke the top of your head to hear you purr.

The mark she left on you lingered until you fell asleep, embedding itself under your skin, making you dream of her, of her floral scent—it was something citrusy. Orange? Lemongrass, perhaps? The fragrance clung to your body, your mind, and suddenly, Yale seemed like a distant dream, and Wanda was the only thing you could dream about.

~*~

Poor S/n... A milf caught her.

Tag list <3

@rosekjsses @vyvvycg @3liyuh

If I forget someone, pls remind me in the comments!

[toxycodone]

curly is the type to showcase his love overtly, but not always conspicuously. he leaves notes, items (usually things you need, meals, etc). he doesn’t always have to tell you he loves you because it’s shown through his actions. he’ll always make sure his pantry has your favorite snacks. his fridge has your favorite drinks. any medications, vitamins, etc are refilled and organized. two mugs sit by his coffee maker—one with your initial and one with his. curly’s life constantly runs with you being featured as apart of it.

jimmy is the most mixed signals person on earth. you see the good side of him, even moments where he can be great, but he fucks up so much it almost makes the other efforts moot. it just when you actually tell him you love him…shit hits the fan. he’s disgusted. not of you, but the fact that you could love someone like him. his own self loathing and self hatred blinds him from being able to accept he’s worthy of good things. he’s doomed to always jump ship right before it hits port.

swansea’s too old to be anything but honest. he’s real. earnest. he’s too old to be lying too, so you know he loves you. why would he ever pretend? what’s the point of that? late nights spent fetching him cups of coffee while he grumbles about work. he leans over and gives you a kiss on the temple as thanks. he takes you on routine date nights and cooks for you. it’s nice.

anya's a pillar of reliance for you. when everything else in your life seems chaotic, she’s always there. soft hair, warm smiles, sweet kisses—she’s the perfect girlfriend for you. even when she’s stressed and biting the crap outta her nails, hastily studying for tests late at night, it’s inspiring.

daisuke is sunshine. he has no idea what he wants to do, where he wants to go—but he’s smiley and passionate while figuring it out. that goes for your relationship, too. he takes your bad moments in stride, while being sure to celebrate and praise you when things are going well. you won’t ever feel unappreciated with daisuke—he truly looks at you as if you’re the only one to him.

[greengoblinswifey]

Hit My Line—Fratboy!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you and nicholas are on thanksgiving break away from each other so he hits your line for help in his time of need.

warnings— switch!nicholas, L bombs, fluff, phone sex, male and female masturbation, dirty talk, praise kink, degrading kink.

a/n— happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate but be careful with the turkeys, the men are fucking them apparently <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

This was the longest stretch you would ever be away from Nicholas, and every minute would seem to drag. But as you pulled away from the college campus, you turned back to reassure him, fighting the tears in your eyes.

“It’s just a few days, baby. You’ll see me soon,” you whispered softly, trying to ease the ache in his heart. “And if there’s anything—anything at all—hit my line.”

His voice was thick with emotion, but he nodded, a soft smile breaking through his sadness. "I’ll miss you so much."

The few hours apart felt unbearable, even though they weren’t even a full day. As soon as you arrived home, your phone buzzed with a message from Nicholas:

“I miss you already. I can’t stand being away from you. I just want to hold you.”

You smiled, typing out a quick reply: “I miss you too, baby. We’ll be back together before you know it.”

Thanksgiving morning came, and you woke up with a yawn, your phone ringing beside you before you even had the chance to fully roll out of bed, his name flashed across the screen. You smiled, picking up.

“Happy Thanksgiving to my incredible girlfriend,” Nicholas beamed over the phone, his voice warm and full of affection.

“Good morning, baby,” you whispered, your heart fluttering. “Happy Thanksgiving to you too.”

“I'm so thankful for you,” he said, his tone deepening. "You mean everything to me, I love you.”

The words hit you like a wave. It was the first time he'd said it though he had showed it in other ways, and the tears that threatened to well up in your eyes couldn’t be held back. “I love you too,” you said, voice cracking.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, baby,” he cooed. “I’m just so glad I have you.”

You wiped at your eyes, trying to calm yourself. “It’s okay. I’m just so thankful for you too. You're the best boyfriend I could ever ask for.”

He chuckled softly. “I miss you so much, and Mom wishes you were here with us for Thanksgiving. I really want you to be a part of the family.”

“I promise, next time,” you said, wiping away your final tear. “Tell her we’ll make it happen.”

You both hung up after a few more heartfelt words, and as the day went on, you spent time with your family. But your thoughts often drifted to Nicholas. The love between you felt so deep, even with the miles separating you.

That night, you made sure to text him. “How’s Thanksgiving going, baby?”

His reply came quickly: “Great, but I have a bit of a problem, I’ll tell you about it later.”

Concerned, you quickly typed back: “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. It’s nothing serious, just something I wanted to talk to you about later, when we’re alone.”

You smiled, having an idea of exactly what he meant.

After a while, when your family was settled and you were tucked into your childhood room, your phone buzzed. It was Nicholas, his voice lower than usual.

“Hey, baby,” he said, sounding a little—off.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s the problem you were talking about? You’ve got me worried.”

He took a deep breath before speaking again. “Well—uh, to be honest, I’ve been really horny all day,” he admitted with a slight laugh. “And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You felt a surge of heat at his confession. “How can you be thinking about that when you're with your family?” you teased lightly, but there was something about the way he said it that sent a shiver down your spine.

He hesitated for a moment, before confessing, “I don't know, I just—I’ve been thinking about you nonstop. I wish you were here.”

You let out a soft laugh, heart racing. “Well, baby, what do you want to do about it?”

There was a brief silence on the other end, and then he whispered, “I’ve never done this before, but I wanna try phone sex. I’ve heard the guys in the frat talk about it, and I don’t know—I just really need you.”

“I’m down if you are, baby,”you said softly, feeling your body react. “But I don’t have my vibrator with me.”

Nicholas chuckled. “Well, I don’t have anything but my hand, but that’s enough as long as I hear your voice.”

Your breath hitched, and you could practically feel the tension between you two building on the phone. “I think that’ll do just fine,” you said, a teasing smile playing at your lips.

“Wait fuck, I forgot I had facetime, wanna switch?” he suggested.

You hung up immediately and called him on facetime, a small smirk on his face. There he was in all his glory, hair messy, shirtless with just his pajama bottoms on and his hard dick printing.

You had your bonnet on, bare faced and draped in a silk, two piece pajamas. “You look beautiful,” he said, admiring you as the red of your LED lights lit up your face, “the red lights are fitting.”

He propped up a pillow in front of him, skillfully angling the phone so that you could see his entire body. He was gorgeous as always, the dim light cascading over his shirtless body, his abs, his pecs, those fucking biceps. You wanted him on top of you crushing you. He was built like a Greek God.

You did the same, propping up the pillow and angling the phone so he could see your figure.

“You’re so fucking beautiful baby,” he grunted, bucking his hips. You could see the outline of his cock pressing against his pajamas.

“Tell me all the things you want to do to me baby,” you whispered, just loud enough so he could hear over the phone.

Nicholas pulled down his bottoms, his hard cock springing out, the sight made you bite your lips as you stared at his body through the phone screen.

His hand slid down his chest, teasingly close to where he was already hard, and your breath caught in your throat. “God, I miss that body,” you breathed, your voice a little shaky.

Nicholas’ gaze darkened, his lips curling into a smile as he ran his fingers over his abs. “You like what you see, baby?” he asked, his voice husky, each word slow and deliberate. “You’re driving me crazy here. I’m so hard for you, you have no idea.”

You shivered at his words, “I think you’re forgetting who has the real power here,” you teased, your smile playful yet full of the same heat that you felt building between you both.

He let out a low laugh, clearly appreciating your confidence. “You know you’re just as beautiful as always,” he said, his eyes never leaving you. “I can’t stop imagining the way you’d feel with me inside you right now.”

You grinned, “Is that so? I think I could help you with that. If only you were here.”

“I’d be all over you,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. His hand moved lower again, teasing his cock, though he didn’t touch fully. “I’d show you just how much I miss you.”

You bit your lip, unable to stop your pulse from quickening as his voice made the moment feel even more intimate. “If I were, I’d make sure you never wanted to leave me again.”

Nicholas groaned softly. “You’re playing with me, aren’t you?” His eyes flickered as his breath quickened, clearly lost in the moment. “You’re making me wish we weren’t miles apart right now.”

You smiled, a sense of power blooming within you as you responded, “Trust me, baby. I’d make it worth your while.”

You pulled off your satin pajama top, revealing your boobs, your nipples hard. Your hands went to them groping them as you bit your lip.

“Fuck, keep doing that baby, grope those fucking tits for me,” he moaned, his hands now stroking his painfully hard cock.

“I wish you were here to do it for me baby, I love the way your tongue flicks my nipples,” you said.

Your hand went down your abdomen and you heard Nicholas moaned, his movements speeding up. Swiftly, you slipped off your shorts and your panties, your pussy glistening in the light.

“Fucking hell baby, I’m gonna be so fucking deep inside that wet pussy when I see you,” he gasped, his hand moving to caress his balls.

“I’m gonna ride that cock so good, make you cum deep inside me.” You moved your fingers to collect the wetness onto your fingers before rubbing your clit. Your back arched off the bed and you did what you could to make sure you moans were soft enough so only Nicholas could hear.

“Fuck, I need that so bad right now baby, keep rubbing that clit, tell me more.” He spread his pre cum on the tip, a sweet whimper leaving his lips as his body shuddered.

“I want you to choke me while you fuck me, hard while you tell me how much of a slut I am,” you murmured, rubbing your clit in rough circles.

“I can do that baby, I can tell you how much of a dirty slut you are, fuck, you’re such a slut right now for doing this with me,” he said. The words uttering his lips were foreign to him, he was more inclined to have you do the degrading and taking the lead—unless you asked of course.

“Oh— baby, I wish you were here to fuck me hard from behind, I know how much you love this ass slapping against you,” you breathed out, your efforts speeding up, you were right on edge.

“Make sure you keep that same fucking energy when I see you, ‘cause I’ll be the one in control,” he said, tilting his head back slightly as his eyes averted to your fingers moving between your legs and his hand wrapped firmly around his cock, “you see how fast I’m stroking this hard fucking cock? That’s how fast I’ll be fucking you.”

“Baby, I think I’m gonna cum, can I cum for you?” you asked, now slipping your fingers inside your pussy.

“N-not yet, take those fingers out and put them in your mouth and then fuck yourself with them again,” he demanded, stroking his cock even faster now, “then I want you groping your tits.”

You did as you were told, bringing your dripping fingers up to your mouth and moaning around them as you savored your own tasted. Your hand went to your boobs, groping them as you imagined they were Nicholas’ large hands. As you did, you slipped your fingers back into your pussy, the sound of squelching the only thing that could be heard apart from your boyfriend’s breathy moans on facetime.

“Fuck, be a good fucking girl and cum for me, cum for me baby,” he gasped.

“Oh, Nicholas,” you moaned, your back arching from the bed as you finger fucked your pussy. Your juices spurted from you, coating your phone screen and the pillow in front of you. You moved your fingers to your clit, rubbing and guiding yourself through your orgasm, trying your best to quiet your breathy moans.

“Fucking hell baby, you’re so hot, squirting like that—shit, oh God, I’m gonna cum, can I cum baby? Please, I’m your good boy, I wanna cum for you,” he gasped, his body trembling as his hands moved quickly up and down his shaft.

“Cum for me baby, let me see that load all over your hand for me,” you uttered, groping your boobs as you watched him through the phone.

You got more than what you bargained for as Nicholas came all over his hand and even more so on his abdomen. “F-fuck baby, that was so hot,” he moaned breathily.

You both took a moment, panting as you stared at each other, your naked bodies rising and falling.

“I really enjoyed that baby,” you smiled, “shit, my screen’s all messed up.”

He laughed, rubbing his cum all over his abdomen, “I enjoyed that even more sweetheart, but now we gotta get cleaned up and you need your beauty rest.”

“Well, I guess this is goodbye until I call you next morning?” you giggled.

“No problem baby, I love you so much, never forget that and I miss you so much, I can’t wait to see you,” he said, his hair sticking to his damp forehead.

“I love you too Nick, I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll see you soon.”

[vultursvolans]

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃: OCT 1ST

— ♤ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Sebastian Michaelis x Female!Phantomhive reader

— ♤ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: reader is in her twenties, SFW but slightly suggestive, reader is ciel’s older sister who also has a pact with sebastian, reader wears a silk scarf around her neck to cover up her pact mark, confession, gothic, victorian english, forbidden love, power imbalance if you squint (masterxservant), timeline isn’t canon, calls you ‘my lady’, 2.7k wc

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

a/n: this piece is the soft opening for my kinktober event! it's SFW but worry not! the actual filth will come very very soon. enjoy the read! the title is named after this song

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: bound by duty and pact, sebastian has served you and ciel for years. but as forbidden desires grow, the line between lady and servant blurs. on a still night, away from the world's noise, your butler confronts you and you discover that love is both perilous and powerful.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You never celebrate your birthday.

Your soul was traded long ago for a hand in retribution so now you'd prefer not to mark the passing of your limited years.

Each year was like another tally of how long it had been since the great fire, a stinging reminder of how long you've survived without your parents.

So while the rest of polite society makes birthdays an extravaganza with galas and banquets, you welcome another year by sending your staff on temporary leave and Ciel with them.

"Go into town and enjoy yourselves." 

This was non-negotiable but Ciel understood your reason better than anyone else. So off they went for their annual day of leisure—and bless the beating hearts of your servants for never questioning why you chose isolation as your way of celebrating. Distracting them with the best rooms at the local establishment was partially to blame.

When everything is said and done, the Phantomhive manor is always left sitting in a biting cold, allowing you to finally take in a fresh breath of solitude.

In the dead of night, the manor offered little light aside from the moon peaking through the windows, and with no maid or butler to tail you with a candelabra, your presence would only be known by the sound of your footsteps echoing in the halls. 

Each year on your birthday, you were no different from a ghost, only that you had a heartbeat.

You found yourself stopping at the ballroom entrance and after giving an almighty push to the wooden doors, they slowly groaned open.

Refined as it was, any semblance of glamour in this room disappeared when the doors shut behind you. The ballroom looked much smaller without its usual lighting; the shadows cascading from each corner made it haunting—almost derelict. Despite there being no party, you were still dressed for the occasion. 

Alone or not, you wouldn’t be caught dead looking poorly. 

Your pace remained slow as you strode toward the center, entertaining yourself with painfully accurate scenarios if you were hosting one of your usual gatherings. Poor Finnian would probably be running around, setting forget-me-nots to their respective arrangements; Baldroy would be cooking in the kitchen, trying his best not to light his dishes ablaze; Mey-Rin would be somewhere tripping over her own feet, and as for Sebastian…  Well, he’d be making sure it doesn’t get worse than that. As much as it pained you to praise Sebastian, he was always reliable even when faced with the toughest predicaments. Everything always seemed to run smoothly when he was around. 

This made you snort. 

Of course, Sebastian was reliable. His bustling duties are part of the contract and everyone would suffer if he were to breach it. 

Between the clicking sound of your shoes against the smooth hardwood, you thought about how many years had passed since creating your pact. Five years ago, you and your brother had nothing to lose except the one thing that made you humans—your souls. And even that was given up for him to be eternally bound to you.

The pact was purely transactional. 

Nothing more, nothing less. 

At least, that’s what you’d been trying to convince yourself for the last year. You’ve been through enough adventures together to dull a weak heart. If he held back within the first few years to preserve your professional relationship, you could feel his restraint chipping away the longer you stayed together. 

Was it wishful thinking or was a demon truly fancying you?

While the butler occupied your train of thought, you hadn’t realized you stopped walking. You gave yourself a moment to brush away the last of your thoughts and remained in the centre of the floor. The silver moonlight nodded at you through the glass roof and with open arms, you suddenly spun in a complete circle, basking in the empty ballroom in all its glory. At that moment you felt so easy, so yourself, so—

Thump.

You snapped your head toward the sound, your heart racing only a little. It came from the staircase, but it was far too dark to see who caused it or what. All that ease you had just felt left as quickly as it came. 

“Who goes there?” You called into the void.

Another thump. Footsteps. 

You sucked in your breath, kicking yourself for not carrying at least a dagger. Oh well, you mentally shrugged. In cases like this, at least you had somebody to summon.

With no answer, the figure began to emerge from the darkness as it reached the foot of the staircase and what was revealed made you want to scream a string of curses.

That bloody tailcoat! 

You’d be able to recognise who that belonged to even if you wore an eyepatch like your damn brother. “Oh for God’s sake,” you mumbled under your breath.

“Forgive me if I startled you, my lady.”

“What the hell is going on? What are you doing here?! And who's with Ciel?" 

"May I suggest for you to calm down—"

"As I recall, I sent everybody on leave. That includes you.” 

With a gloved hand over his heart, Sebastian bowed earnestly, “Ciel is being taken care of. I understand your need for isolation but it’s not often good for your mental state, my lady. I thought I could provide you with some company even if you wish to remain stoic.”

“You’re going against an order.”

He approached you slowly as if his sudden presence wasn’t the only thing he had up his sleeves, “I know I am and I know you’re capable of punishment at a later time. I’ll be happy to accept it if that means you get to experience something other than loneliness and silence on your birthday.” With a hint of a smile on his lips, he glanced at the silk scarf you had neatly wrapped around your neck, “Should you feel uncomfortable, you have the power to stop me by force.”

“You’ve gotten quite bold lately, haven’t you?” You crossed your arms and sighed. “So what next? Do I need to walk you through my impressive list of things I do whenever I—”

“There’s no need,” Sebastian took his last step in front of you before the ballroom suddenly came to life. The moon still shone as your main source of light but as if a delicate veil had been lifted, soft, orchestral music rippled inside the hall. There was nobody else aside from the two of you but you felt as though an entire symphony was hiding in the shadows. Leave it to Sebastian to wield the pleasure of music as a weapon, especially when it was the one indulgence you could truly say you cherished. 

“I’m guessing this is your doing?”

He extended his hand as a subtle invitation, bowing as he did. 

“Guilty as charged, my lady.”

Slightly reluctant, you accepted his hand but not without question. “Are you trying to butter me up with a dance?”

“That depends on whether or not it’s working,” He answered as he pulled you into a gentle waltz. You both move with natural elegance, light on your feet while the music ebbs and flows, and the melody feels familiar to you like you’ve done this many times before. You’ve danced with a handful of Dukes and Barons but nobody has ever led you around a ballroom as gracefully as Sebastian. He whirled you in a full circle and then pulled you close to his chest. You huffed in response.

Sebastian resisted the urge to smirk, finding your flushed expression rather cute.

“I take it that you are displeased?” 

“No,” You dropped your shoulders, “But dancing with my butler wasn’t in my playing cards for tonight.”

“Yet here we are, waltzing in the ballroom,” he twirled you again before settling his hand around your waist, “Consider this a birthday present, my lady.”

You stared at Sebastian with confusion. He was the strangest person you’ve ever known. Despite him being the embodiment of somebody’s nightmare, you felt safe around him, but even more so when your eyes met. 

You hated it. 

“And why gift me something this year? What’s so different from previous years?” 

After all, he wasn’t always so stubborn.

He slid his hand to your lower back to gently dip you; as he reeled you back in, he held you closer than before, only stopping when your faces were inches apart. From here, he could smell a hint of your perfume and he could have sworn he felt your heartbeat. He hesitated for a moment as a tinge of guilt succumbs him, “Would you mind if I told you something… personal, my lady?”

You answered curtly with a nod.

“This year is different for two reasons. The first is that you’ve haunted my thoughts for quite some time now. And the second is that… you look especially beautiful tonight.”

Your feet had stopped shuffling at this point. You stood before him, ignoring that your heart had skipped a beat, “What are you trying to say?”

His eyes flickered over your face while his mind flicked over all the possible things to answer. Instead of responding to the question, he changed the subject slightly. 

“My Lady, have you ever been in love before?”

“I can’t say I have,” you blinked at him. “And what do you know about love, demon?”

You couldn’t help but assume that his version of love was wicked and cruel. You’ve seen him exploit the human condition more times than you could count. 

“I won’t pretend I’m an expert at love but in my long life, I could say I know things about it that you would hardly believe.” Sebastian smiled to himself, amused at the irony of being called a demon when these feelings were the most human they'd ever been. He traced small circles on your waist while shifting his other hand to the crook of your neck, never breaking his gaze as he freed the knot that kept your scarf in place. The scarf was discarded onto the floor but neither of you cared to look. “I’ve seen it in all forms and colours. Love is beautiful, despairing, and everything in between. Love can ruin everything you’ve ever built. It can be your biggest weakness or your greatest weapon. But more importantly, I know what someone looks like when they’re in love.” 

A brief silence followed as he allowed himself to take your hand once more and he could feel your grasp tighten so faintly when his lips hovered over your skin, “Pact or not, you have me wrapped around your little finger. But something is killing me. Would you like to guess what it is?” 

It was unbecoming of him but he kissed the back of your hand, leaving the pact mark on your exposed skin glowing — ultimately betraying every feeling you tried to suppress. You swallowed thickly before playing it off with a laugh.

“No. Enlighten me instead.”

“As you wish.”

Sebastian hummed as he began swaying you into a much slower version of a waltz, holding you so close you touched at the hip. He lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his, but he was almost left entranced by how ethereal you looked with his mark on you. It wasn’t the first time seeing it but it was the first time he allowed himself to imagine the many other ways he could imprint you.

“Well, my lady, you have no idea how maddening it is to serve you, to watch over you, to constantly want to touch you, to hold you, while knowing that I cannot. It is pure agony. You could call that love, could you not?” 

You were barely able to continue speaking, the feelings you had also been hiding were threatening to bubble at the surface, “Well, I suppose you could.” While you rocked from side to side, he thumbed the skin around your jaw as if to ease whatever thought was wracking your brain.

Suddenly stepping away from you, Sebastian said, “Pardon my rudeness, but this is a reminder that my senses are far sharper than a human’s—” he then twirled you in three spins, and when you faced him for the final time, he caught you by the waist, “—so is it safe to assume you carry the same burden as I?”

This brought your waltz to a slow stop but the music continued to quietly play as if the ballroom became a whimsical world unto itself. As you got back on your feet, you rested your hands on his chest while your head hung low. It always frustrated you a great deal that he could read your soul like a book. All you could do was chuckle—earning a brow raise from the butler—but when you finally decided to look up at him, what remained of that chuckle was a rare and defeated smile. 

“You caught me,” you confessed.

In truth, he was surprised. He didn’t think your answer would come so easily, even letting out a quiet laugh of his own. Not counting your sadistic grins while you and your kin carried orders at the behest of the Queen, this was the first time he had seen you smile so genuinely in his presence—he couldn’t help but marvel at you. He found himself captivated by it but soon realised that despite your smile, you were just as flustered.

“I knew it,” Sebastian failed to prevent himself from squeezing your waist. No matter how many centuries had passed, humans always felt so fragile to him. You opened your mouth in a silent gasp but he leaned towards you, his voice a low whisper in your ear, “Now, I must tell you something else. However, you may deem it inappropriate.” 

A shiver went down your spine and even though you were aware you were alone, you quickly glanced around the room nonetheless, “As if this wasn’t already beyond inappropriate but be my guest.”

Sebastian carefully considered his next words but there was no way for him to conceal his desire any longer—he called your name but his voice was dripped with something you couldn’t put your finger on. “You’ve become so intoxicating, like sweet poison I willingly drink.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. All the words you had prepared died on your tongue immediately. Sebastian always prided himself on being a butler worth his salt, so in the years that you’ve been together, not once has he let formalities slip. You took a moment to think about the events that led you here and embarrassingly, the warmth you were already suffering with, deepened. He wasn’t addressing you as the Lady of the House nor as a butler. He was speaking to you as Sebastian Michaelis, a love-struck fiend.

His fingers brushed against your forehead gently, moving the hairs away from your eyes, studying you intently with a faint hint of wonder in his stare. He had always done his best to hide his attachment but you felt his arm around your waist growing more possessive,

“And seeing you smile—the sight of you is just mesmerising. It unravels me.”

You could feel the confusion and irritation and your mind melted down by his show of affection. “I wish the world would give me more to smile about,” you muttered in a heartbeat. 

As if your body had a mind of its own, you caressed his cheek and it was cold in comparison to your skin. 

“How damned am I to only smile in the presence of the wicked?” You continued. 

He closed his eyes and leaned into your hand—a low, contented hum slipped past his lips. If he could drift into a dreamless dream like this, he would. 

“Ah, but are you damned or destined?”

Under the cloak of night, you moved your hand against his lips, making his eyes flutter open in surprise.

What do you think, Sebastian? 

Now, it was his turn to smile. Sebastian began placing trails of hot, forbidden kisses down your fingers; you tasted soft and warm, drawing him in like a secret only the two of you shared. 

When he saw how all of the sharp edges and hard masks you used to hide behind were gone, he desired nothing more than to take you, hand in hand, towards a place with no promise of light. Despite it defying all conventions, Sebastian whispered with sincerity you had never heard from him before,

“A soul such as yours is so very tempting. Be it that you are doomed, I will enjoy burning with you to the fullest.”

a/n: thanks for reading! happy 1st of october!

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

networks: @pixelcafe-network @houseofsolisoccasum

dividers: @/astrumaur

[kurikive]

CASUAL | danielle marsh.

— "is it casual now?"

6thmember!reader, situationship/fwb but nothing sexual, angst, fluff at the end i promise, dani swears, reader is a (closeted) lesbian, reader is horrible at reading people, written in 2nd person, they work it out on the remix

warnings : A LOT of internalized homophobia !! reader refers to herself multiple times as a predator but it's just from fear and insecurity, nothing actually predatory is happening in the story. extremely brief mentions of starvation

wc: 5.4k words

inspired by: Casual — Chappell Roan

you and danielle marsh are friends. more than co-workers, you're friends. although you don't have that much in common except for your age, it was easy to adapt to the harsh environment of the k-pop industry's training system with someone like danielle by your side.

she's always been a ray of sunshine in everyone's lives, you're not the exception. if you were in a bad mood, tired from waking up in the early morning everyday, worked to the point of exhaustion, danielle would be there rubbing your shoulders and saying something sweet like

"you're doing great, y/n! keep up!"

and then you'd smile at her, and she'd smile back, and you'd feel so much better, thanks to danielle.

you didn't have many interests in common. music taste, fashion sense, movie picks, food preferences, personality types, if anything you were almost her complete opposite. and yet, she sat in your bed every night while you scrolled on your phone, talking for hours until it the clock hits midnight and she goes back to her room.

danielle did most of the talking, and you carefully listened to everything she said. the enthusiasm in which she enunciated all her words was endearing to listen to, and it couldn't not bring a smile out of you. the girl never forgot to give you your chance to speak too, trying to get to know you better everyday.

there was one thing she could not know, however. that you're a lesbian.

if it was hard enough being gay in korea, it was ten times harder when you were about to debut in a girl group, in one of the biggest companies in the industry at the moment nonetheless.

there were times where the members would all gather and have girl talks, talking about things like movies, celebrity crushes, past boyfriends and all that stuff, and you felt left out every single time.

sometimes it's more a curse than a blessing that danielle notices everything, because when she asks, "who's your celebrity crush, y/n?", "what do you look for in a boy, y/n?", "have you ever had a boyfriend, y/n?", you never know how you're supposed to respond.

it wasn't safe. it'll never be safe.

you've known the girls for almost a year and there has never been an indication of the way they felt about the LGBTQ+ community. hanni was your safest bet, she seemed the most open minded, but then again you can never be sure.

they were all so painfully straight.

so you try your best to answer vaguely,

"i don't know.", "i'm not sure, i don't really think about that." they complain a little about your mysteriousness, but it doesn't take long for them to let it go and move on.

you don't know how long you have to keep pretending you're not sure. you are sure.

you like girls.

you don't want to keep pretending you don't. but how would they feel?.

they'd feel unsafe, uncomfortable, scared, exposed to a threat, a possibility of being prey to a predator, a little voice in your head tells you.

but you're not. you're not a predator. they know you're not a predator. you'd never do anything to hurt them, or make them uncomfortable.

so you keep pretending. but the shell is starting to crack, and a knot in your throat gets tighter everytime you hear your members ask "is he your type?".

your debut is only a couple months away. you pray to god hanni has noticed by now. she's your roommate after all.

you start playing some specific songs without your headphones in hopes she walks by or enters the room and notices. you hope she's the one that asks. but she doesn't, she never mentions the songs, ever.

so you move on to movies and shows.

when she catches you watching heartbreak high in the living room TV, she only says "oh they're aussies, right?"

when she sees you watching heartstopper on your phone while eating dinner she just says, "kit connor is soooo handsome."

she doesn't mention it when she goes into your room and you're playing but i'm a cheerleader on your laptop. but hanni has caught on.

and the next time she goes into your shared room, she closes the door behind her. you're in your bed, and you're staring at each other, both of your eyes shine with nervousness.

"can i ask you something?" she says from the door, so shakily you start fearing she's not going to take it like you wish she would.

"sure." you didn't mean for your voice to come out as quiet as it did.

it's a nerve-wracking couple of seconds watching hanni take a seat in her own bed and face you. she takes a big breath before asking, "do you- no, sorry. are you... gay?"

yes, yes, yes. i am a lesbian. i like girls. you want to scream, but the realization of reality strangles you and your throat feels so tight, and you can't say anything.

"it's not like there's anything wrong about it, i'm just... asking." she tries. you can tell she's trying. it's sweet that she's trying.

"yes." it's a struggle to get it out, and your heart starts racing, but just being able to feels like such a relief that you might start crying. but then fear washes down on you again when you can't read hanni, at all.

"i'm really sorry, hanni. i promise i'm not weird or predatory or anything, i would never try to make you uncomfortable and i'm sorry if i ever did. i promise i don't like you like that, not that you're not attractive or anything, that's not what i mean at all. i just- i would never like you like that, you're like my sister and i promise that i'm still the same y/n you met, i really hope this doesn't change anything in our-" she cuts off your rambled apology-slash-explanation with a hug.

"it doesn't. i promise." it hits you now, just now, that hanni knows. she knows.

"please don't tell the others." you're choked up, and that's the only thing you could say before the tears in your eyes caught up. i don't know how they'll take it, you want to say, but the only thing that comes out is a broken sob.

"i won't. it's okay, y/n."

you've grown closer to hanni than you'd ever thought you would. you spend your nights in your room talking and laughing and watching funny videos you send each other.

it's been a few months since you've debuted and you couldn't be happier. you had someone to rely on, someone who knows all your secrets and can trust her with them, and vice versa.

your career has skyrocketed and your popularity is through the roof, and although there are always negative consequences that come with that fame, it's been mostly great on your end.

danielle doesn't really hang out in your room to talk anymore. if you're honest, you kind of miss it, but she surely has her reasons, and you don't think too much about it.

you're currently in one of the vocal practice rooms at HYBE, setting up your phone to do a phoning live. you'd just finish your vocal practice and you had asked for permission beforehand.

after a few minutes of talking with your fans, recommending movies and talking about food, you hear a knock on your door. quite strange.

"yeah? who is it?" you yell loud enough to no cause any ruckus. the door slightly opens and a face peeks inside, "it's me!" danielle's signature smile shining brightly at you, "i saw you were live and wanted to come hang out."

you didn't even need to tell her anything before she was coming right inside the room to grab a chair and sit beside you. "well, come hang out then!" you face your screen to see danielle struggling to bring the chair closer to you, and you chuckle a bit. "dani's here, guys!"

danielle has always been very touchy; with everyone, that is. today was not the exception, resting her head on your shoulder, holding your hand and locking your fingers together, nuzzling her face in your neck, it's all things you're already used to.

it's never been more than just friendly showcases of affection, to you, at least. and you've also never been irritated by it, but there's some guilt you try to suppress.

you don't want to push her away, you're not uncomfortable with her actions, what is uncomfortable is her potentially finding out your sexuality and thinking you let her shower you with affection for your own amusement. you fear it. but you don't want to think about that right now.

you think about it again, however, when you go back home and open social media only to see videos and threads with thousands of likes and views compiling every sweet moment of affection that happened just mere hours ago.

there's a pang in your chest when you see the tens of delusional comments talking of how much they'd like to see you and your friend as a couple. it feels like you're being strangled, and you suddenly feel unwell, so you close the app and turn off your phone.

"i should watch a movie."

you fully believe your debut was your prime. everyday gets harder, scandal after scandal, comeback after comeback, day after day. you work really hard, your members know, your fans know. but it never looks like it's going to get easier.

you win awards, win some more, get another important deal, shoot another session, write another song, the cycle repeats although not in the same order. like a fucked up loop. you're so fucking tired.

you wonder how hyein is holding up. you care a lot for her, like your little sister. she seems okay, eating a bowl of yogurt and fruits in the living room with haerin and hanni. are you the only one having a hard time?

you need to relieve your stress, and there's really no other option other than going to the gym to work out. so you go back to your room to lazily change into your practice clothes and grab your backpack, "i'm going to the gym." you try your best to sound at least a little enthusiastic as you walk behind the living room couch.

"when are you coming back?" you hear danielle ask from the kitchen, a twinge of concern in her voice. "it might start raining soon."

"i won't take long. if i see it starts to get cloudy i'll get going." you try to put her worries at ease. your gym doesn't have windows, though.

you shouldn't have gone. you're not even supposed to go anyway. it's raining hard, and it might start storming soon. but your manager can't know you're here. one of the many downsides of being in a group with four minors and two barely-adults, you can't call any of them to pick you up. so fuck it, you're taking the public transportation.

kind of extremely risky considering you are literally in newjeans, but okay. what else is there to do? what you failed to consider is the only bus stop being about five blocks away. and the bus doesn't drop you off even remotely close to the dorms. so you're gonna be running in the rain and, fuck it again, you do just that.

the first five blocks to the bus stop weren't that bad, you didn't get soaked like you imagined, blocking most raindrops with your backpack over your head. you really should've just brought an umbrella, though.

good thing you brought a mask, at least. nobody seemed to recognize you on the bus. you take a seat as close as possible to the exit and take out your phone to hurriedly text the group chat.

i got a bit caught up, im omw

domt worry 2 much

ill b there soon :))

minji responds with a thumbs up, hanni leaves an "idiot" that gets a like reaction by haerin. you see danielle write and then stop writing about 3 times, but she ends up not sending anything at all, so you just turn off your phone and look outside for your stop.

it only takes a couple minutes of waiting to see the silhouette of your dorm building. you get off your seat and wait for the bus to halt at the next stop to get off. it's raining a bit harder, but there's nothing you can do except wing it.

and when you get off, you immediately put your backpack on top of your head and start running as fast as you could towards your dorm. you get some looks, but no one can possibly be able to recognize you, not at the speed you're going.

after a few minutes, your legs start getting tired not only from running, but all the exercise you did hours earlier. another thing you failed to consider in this mediocre, careless plan.

but you're almost there. and you're almost not soaked.

by the time you reach your building the only thing about you that isn't wet is your scalp. you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, it's probably one of your members, but you're almost there, you can't pick up.

you enter the gates of the apartment, and you're probably going to make a mess on the floor on the elevator, but your legs can't take it anymore, and you thank any god that hears your prayers when the elevator doors open and it's empty. you can't take more embarrassment right now.

the doors open once again and you try not to make much noise as you run towards your dorm. someone inside must've heard you fumbling with your keys because as soon as you find the right one the door is already open, a concerned danielle with a just as worried minji behind her. you smile at the sight of them. "hello!"

"get your ass inside!" you hear hanni shout from the couch.

you're drying your hair in your room after taking a shower and explaining the situation to your group members. just as you're about to turn on your phone to see what time it is you hear a knock on your door, "can i come in?" it's danielle.

"yup. come on in!" you answer a lot more energized than a couple hours before. danielle's not wearing her usual bright smile, but rather a more worried expression. "y/n, can we talk?"

you're confused. you've never heard or seen her like this before. she's obviously been worried before, she cares about you just as much as the others, but this time it's different. "yeah, what's up?" you try your best to respond calmly and tap a stop in the bed beside yourself, which danielle gladly takes.

"are you okay?" she asks as she settles down at your side. what?

"what do you mean?" you don't notice it but you start fidgeting with your own fingers. danielle notices.

"it's just," she tries looking somewhere else, but she can't help the need of looking into your eyes all the time, looking for some sort of sign, some crack, "i can tell you're stressed. you're tired and... if you need to talk i just want you to know that i'm here." her eyes are dripping honey and her hand is so warm when she grabs yours.

you show her a sluggish smile, "thanks, dani. i appreciate that." when you look back, her face is already finding it's way to the crook of your neck. "i'm just a little tired of everything. it really feels like i'm doing the same things all over again. i know we've achieved a lot as a group but i feel like i have nothing going on for myself." you sigh, danielle says nothing, urging you to continue.

"all the songs i pitch get turned down, my other drafts feel too personal to release as a group song. every song i write with the group in mind feels, i don't know, empty?"

your eyes unfocus as a wave of emptiness washes over you and the only thing you feel is a water droplet from your bangs fall and travel down your temples. and also the warmth shared by danielle's hand in yours.

"i just feel like nothing's going on in my life." you feel danielle's head leave your shoulder and you turn to look at each other at the same time, "i think i know how you feel." she says with the sweetest eyes ever.

"thanks for listening, dani." you smile at her, but it feels so strange when she doesn't smile back. she just stares, right through you. her eyes are so pretty; you've always known but this is the first time you've looked at them directly for so long (there's really nothing else for you to look at when she's so close to your face).

oh, yeah. in a sudden moment you were inches apart. you don't remember moving so it must've been danielle.

you don't really understand what's going on. maybe this is an eye contact battle and you're not supposed to blink. and you think for a moment you had it easy because suddenly danielle's pretty eyes are nowhere to be found and you're staring at her eyelids and long eyelashes instead.

before your brain even thinks of giving you the chance to mutter "i win!" in a silly manner, you feel your own lips getting shut. covered, enveloped by another set of softness.

oh. this is not what you expected at all.

what are you even supposed to do right now? well, pull away, obviously. but that could could give danielle the impression that you hate everything about this and, really, that's not true at all. it's good. well, not good, but- danielle is not horrible at kissing.

what even is happening, anyway? i mean, you're kissing. but what else? nothing feels like it's moving; it feels like time's stopped. there also hasn't been anything that has lead up to this happening.

so you're just left there, paralyzed, in shock, waiting until danielle pulls away. just waiting until she's done with you. until she's satisfied.

and it's until danielle notices that you're not moving that she realizes what she's done. she pulls away, shaken and distraught.

"y/n, i am so sorry. i don't know what came over me, i am so so so sorry. i really didn't mean to do that. please forgive me, y/n, i am really so sorry." at this point, danielle's voice starts to break. "i don't know why i did that, it's just, i don't know, you just looked good a-and we were just close and-"

"it's okay, dani. i know."

"no, y/n, i really am sorry. i-"

"dani, i swear it's fine." you grab her shoulder to reassure her, but is anything really fine right now? "i..." you don't really know what to say next. "i don't, like, hate you or anything. i understand things like that happen. i'm not mad at you."

"really?" you've never seen her tear up so fast. you definitely didn't expect her to tear up at this. but you know the feeling of guilt so well you can't help but feel sympathy for her. "are you sure? i promise it won't happen again."

"i'm sure, dani. you could never do anything to make me hate you."

you smile at her, she sniffles. it's the last thing you hear before you hear the sound of her wristwatch's seconds ticking. you don't really know what's going through her head. you count about 34 ticks.

"did you hate it?" her voice isn't weak, but it is lower than you normally expect it to be.

you're stunned, but the way she looks at you so earnestly, with a hint of nervousness in her eyes forces you to answer within seconds, "n-no! dani, i didn't... hate it. it was just unexpected. i didn't really process it at first." it's the truth, but it feels so gut-wrenching to say.

another 20 ticks of quiet.

"can i do it again?"

hello? hello? what is going on? hello?

"i-i mean, if you want to." it sounds more like a question than a proper answer. and danielle takes it anyway.

you don't have any romantic feelings for danielle, that's for sure. she's said she doesn't have any feelings for you either. that's established. and yet when hanni is too caught up watching movies in the living room with minji and hyein, danielle is always there, sitting in your bed.

sometime's it's just little pecks while you cuddle and watch something she doesn't care much about. sometime's she's on the verge of kissing the living shit out of you.

it's never more than that. none of you let it be more than that. it's more than okay.

it's comfortable. it's casual.

and yet, every time it happens, you feel guilt eat at your stomach.

because danielle doesn't know. and she can't know.

it's not like this was your idea in the first place, it was danielle's. but the fact that you let her do it anyway could be predatory enough for her to feel unsafe if she ever did find out. even if she's the one who caused this all.

and never once do you think about yourself while it happens. it's not a moment for you, it's a moment for danielle to take. and you're okay with that. as long as she's okay with it.

you're okay with many things just because danielle is okay with them.

if danielle wants to watch a romcom, you watch a romcom. if danielle wants to eat plain yogurt, you eat plain yogurt. if danielle wants to kiss you, you let her kiss you.

it's not that big of a deal if there are no feelings involved. it's just a matter of believing that that's actually true.

you let her do whatever she wants because you're scared to do the taking. because taking feels like stealing, and doing feels like attacking. and you're so scared to hurt danielle that you forget you can also hurt yourself.

but if it's so casual, why doesn't she let go of your hand? why does she call you pretty everyday? why does she look at you with those pretty eyes like you're her whole world?

was the "i love you" she said yesterday something she meant as platonic love? is there such a thing as casual love?

was it just the sound of the raindrops on your window that made you hallucinate the sound of a love confession?

you don't eat anything for the rest of the day.

minji and hyein are visiting their parents. hanni and haerin are out of the country. and you're in the dorm kitchen trying to figure out how blurred the lines are while you mix the milk into your tea.

you feel your heart drop when you hear the sound of footsteps of the line-blurrer herself over the sounds of light rain. it hasn't stopped since the day before.

you don't want to feel anything right now, you don't want to hear anything right now.

she wraps her arms around your waist and says, "good morning." with that big bright smile on her face. at one point it started hurting when she did, but you don't remember when.

she smells like the candles you burnt in your room two days after hanni left. you were trying to get rid of danielle's scent from your room, but you couldn't tell her that, so you just said you were trying something new.

danielle notices you say nothing back, and your eyes are nowhere in particular. "watchu thinkin' about?" her always cheery tone gets you out of your trance, and she notices when you stop stirring the spoon in your cup. you're still silent for a bit, but she lets you take your time.

"i don't think we should do this anymore, danielle."

you tense up when her arms leave your waist, but it feels oddly freeing. you don't turn back to face her.

"what do you mean?"

"are we still casual?"

there's disbelief in danielle's voice when she speaks, "what are you talking about? of course we are!" but she sounds dishonest, in a way.

"really?" that's when you turn around, her eyes are wide and her cheeks are quite flushed but nothing about her seems guilty at all, "because saying "i love you" doesn't seem quite casual to me."

she scoffs, "y/n, i tell all my friends i love them. it's a normal thing!"

"i'd agree with you if we weren't kissing on the low. it's a little too much on top of that."

"i don't know what you think casual means but-"

"what i mean is we should stop before the lines start to blur, that's if they haven't already." you don't want to yell at her. you hope she understands before you have to raise your voice. "we are public figures, famous figures. if this goes wrong we can't go back and that could potentially ruin everything, not only for us but for our group."

"well, it can't go wrong if there's no feelings involved, can it?" danielle is usually playfully sassy, but she's never responded to you like this before.

"we're human, danielle. feelings can't be stopped." you're not too good at reading people, but you can see something has clicked in danielle's brain.

"what i'm getting is that you developed feelings for me while we were casual, is that right?" she seems so sure and confident that it annoys you. it frustrates you. and you want to cry.

"no, that's not what i said. but i am scared of it happening, and i want this to stop before it has the chance to."

"well, you should've thought of that before you said yes." you never really did.

"why are you upset, anyways?"

"b-because!" her voice gets louder, "i just wanted this to be casual, and now your telling me you're scared of catching feelings, it's just weird. that's all."

you sigh, "listen, i don't want this to end on a bad note. i just-"

"well, i don't want this to end at all!"

it takes you a minute to believe what you're hearing.

"a-are you hearing yourself?" it's shocking, it really is, "this is crazy, why are you being so selfish right now?"

"because it feels good! okay?!" danielle has completely let go of the loose strings of morality she was holding on to, "it fucking feels good, a-and you make me feel good. i like it when we kiss, and i like it when we cuddle and, and, i just like it, okay?!" that's the first time you've heard danielle curse in your entire life.

"okay, well, i'm glad you did. but i don't. i don't feel good at all." it's so scary and risky because you're two seconds away from telling her the truth, and this could potentially damage both your careers irreversibly, but you can't think of any lie or excuse that is true enough to keep hiding it.

"i drown in guilt every time we kiss and i feel like i'm choking when you look at me these days."

you've never seen her look so confused, like she really doesn't understand you. because she never had to.

"why?"

"i am a lesbian, danielle." you can't shatter, not now. "and it kills me because you'll never understand how hard it is to hide like this for so long. and yes, we hide this casual thing from our members, but after this is over you don't have to hide anything at all and i still have to hide everything."

she says nothing. her eyes soften, but you can't read them. not like you ever could.

"i didn't catch feelings for you, but i could, and you're not helping out. and you don't have to worry about that. you don't have to worry about your members being disgusted at you for something you can't change. you don't have to pretend. you don't have to be scared that you're making someone uncomfortable by simply existing beside them. i had to pretend i didn't care when you kissed me, i had to pretend to be okay when you kissed me again. i've been pretending to be okay with so much i don't know what being okay is anymore."

danielle still says nothing.

"but that's all gone to shit now, hasn't it?" your voice can't break now, but it does anyway, even when your not done speaking. "i can't be okay with everything. i can't be casual about everything, danielle. not anymore." there's a hot tear running down your cheek, but you try to hold yourself together.

"i never want to hurt you, ever, danielle. but i am seriously hurting myself. i am eating myself from inside out. there's nothing casual about that."

"i think i might be in love with you." is the first thing she says in minutes. and that's when you shatter completely. you turn around to leave your mug of now cold tea on the counter and you rest your elbows on it to hide your face in your hands.

"do you think that helps?" you're sobbing.

"i'm sorry. i know it doesn't. i just had a moment of realization and i think that's why i was so upset. i didn't want you to end this because i was in love with you since the start and didn't realize."

"this is fucking crazy." it really is, that's why you can't hold down the laugh of complete astonishment that leaves your lips. "do you realize how crazy this is? i just came out to you and you're- i don't even want to think about this."

"i'm really sorry, y/n." it's the first time you see guilt in danielle's face in a long time. "i really am. i really didn't know, i- i didn't know anything at all."

"you were upset of me potentially having feelings for you when it was you the whole time, huh?" this is no time or place to make jokes, you're literally crying as you speak. but this is hilarious. danielle seems to think so too given she also laughs.

"i don't know what i was thinking." she says, hiding her face in her palm in embarrassment.

"i wish i knew too." you say, "i never do."

"so what now? i mean, you clearly don't like me back." you don't understand how danielle does it. she never looks away, she faces the truth, something you're unable to do easily.

"that's a good question, i actually never thought about that." i mean, you thought the possibility of danielle ever liking a woman, let alone you, was at a mere 0.1%, can you blame yourself for not thinking of a solution to this?

"i mean, you did say you could."

"selfish asshole." you mutter to yourself, but danielle hears it anyways. "hey!"

"i'm crying right in front of you out of fear and frustration, have some respect, dude."

"i would say it wouldn't hurt to try but it clearly does so i don't know what you want to do." wow, danielle really could never do anything to make you hate her. nothing at all. "i don't mind being the selfless one this time."

"cheesy." she's always been like that, you can't say you hate it. "i'll reheat my tea and think about it."

danielle waits for you. maybe it wouldn't be so bad to risk falling in love with her too. you've risked it once.

the microwave beeps and you take your mug out. it's hot again. you turn to face danielle and she's still there, hasn't moved an inch. "i'm willing to give it a try. but nothing casual."

she shines you the widest grin you've ever seen from her. "nothing was ever casual, i fear."

"i still can't believe you cursed." you say as you walk past her to go to your room (that probably smells like danielle's perfume again).

"i did?!" she trails behind you. you nod. "i almost jumped."

"hey, am i the first one to know?"

"what, that i'm a lesbian?" she nods, now beside you. you shake your head after a sip of your tea.

"hanni knew."

"i'm not even the first? fuck..." is she doing this on purpose... she has to be, right?

"dude? hello?"

"don't dude me, i'm your future girlfriend." she hits your arm as you walk into your room. you don't know what you're gonna say to hanni when she comes back.

"confident much? shut up and pick a movie to watch." you'll figure it out later.

end.

🗒️ this wasn't as long as i thought it was gonna be THANK GOD

[lionneee]

Favourite Uncle

Masterlist

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English is not my first language, please be kind

OC!Aemond x Fem!Reader - OC!Jace x Fem!Reader

•Warnings: smut, kissing, taking of sexual themes, cheating, incest, secret relationship.•

To Jace, it almost seemed funny that he got to marry his niece just as Daemon did.

He was happy too, you were kind, innocent and sweet, the perfect wife, despite the father and the uncle.

He could still remember the glance the two brothers gave him when the engagement had been announced, and Jace kissed her hand.

But eventually, everything went good, he found himself satisfied with marriage, and also with his two young white haired boys his sweet wife gave birth to.

He had sighed loudly in relief as soon as he saw the white hair on the babies, happy that they would have never had to go through what he did, just because of his brown hair.

He smiled as he saw his wife come inside their shared chambers, her hair perfect as always.

“Have you already taken a bath, wife?” He asked as he stood up from the bed.

“Yes, I had, uncle.” She smiled up at him as he approached her.

“You don’t have to call me uncle anymore.” Jace smiled softly as he caressed her cheek. “Actually, not even husband. Call me simply Jace. We are family.”

She nodded with a sweet smile.

“It’s almost a shame your husband can't see you like this.”  Aemond smirked as he kept pounding you from behind, your tits bouncing up and down as you gripped tightly the edge of the table. “Being fucked like a cheap whore.”

His hips snapped forward, thrusting deep into her heat. The feeling of her slick walls gripping him was intoxicating. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to tangle with hers.

His hips slammed against hers relentlessly, the force sending ripples through the wooden surface beneath them. The wet sounds of their coupling filled the air, mingling with Aemond's low groans of pleasure.

“I always thought you had favourites, you know?” He smirked as he thrusted into her deeply, feeling her hot wetness envelop him. “I’m pretty sure I’m your favourite uncle, not that bastard husband of yours.” His hands gripped her hips tightly as he pounded into her, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room.

"Fuck, niece." He growled. "You feel so good around my cock." His words were punctuated by swift, powerful strokes that sent shivers through her body. He could feel her walls clenching around him, trying to milk his release. “That dumb brother of mine married you to the wrong person.” He moaned as he pulled back slightly, only to slam back into her with renewed vigor, the force of his thrusts made the table creak ominously beneath them.

She moaned softly as she bit her lip, her back arching off the table as she straightened up. She threw her head back enough to see the expression of pleasure of her uncle as he fucked her unce again.

He gazed at her with burning intensity, purple eyes nearly black with lust. His free hand slid up her body to cup her breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak as he continued to drive into her.

"But it’s okay. We found a way to fix it, didn’t we?" He chuckled as he looked down at her, her short, petite form squirming as he kept fucking her raw against his table. "Let's give your husband another kid." The possessiveness in his voice sent a thrill through her, making her moan a bit louder.

“Yes, uncle… put a baby in my belly, please -” She panted as his hand moved down to rub her clit. “Oh, I will, my sweet niece -” He smirked.

“Okay… Jace.” She smiled. “I have great news.” She said as a shiver went through her body as he felt Aemond’s seed starting to run down her thighs. “I’m with child.” 

Jace’s eyes lightened up at the news and quickly hugged her.

“It's wonderful news!” He exclaimed happily. She hummed in agreement as she looked at the door ajar, where she saw Aemond looking right back at her.

“We shall celebrate tomorrow!” Jace hugged her tightly.

Aemond scoffed a laugh as he turned, walking back to his chambers.

“Imbecile.” He mumbled to himself.

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