#and now I genuinely think that that was my one shot at getting to feel anything like that

[scoupsakakitty]

Betrayal Under The Stage Lights pt.2 | Seventeen x 14thMember | fluff

The room remained silent long after Y/N left. The weight of their words, their accusations, lingered in the air like an unshakable storm cloud. No one dared to speak, no one wanted to admit what they all began to realize their mistake.

Mingyu ran a frustrated hand through his hair, the guilt settling deep in his chest. “We messed up, didn’t we?”

Jihoon exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “No, we didn’t just mess up. We completely turned on her without thinking.”

Joshua sat down heavily on the couch, rubbing his face with his hands. “We should have listened. We should have trusted her.”

Seungcheol, usually so sure of his decisions, felt a rare sense of self-doubt gnawing at him. His mind replayed the scene over and over Y/N’s devastated expression, her voice laced with desperation as she defended herself. And they had ignored it.

“She must hate us now,” Seokmin mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

Jeonghan, for once, had no witty remark, no clever way to deflect the situation. Instead, he sighed deeply. “We need to fix this.”

Y/N sat alone in her room, the echoes of their accusations still fresh in her mind. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to make them feel even a fraction of what she had felt. But more than anything, she just felt… tired.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. At first, she ignored it, expecting them to give up. But the knocking persisted. With an annoyed sigh, she stood up and pulled the door open only to find all thirteen members standing outside, looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

Mingyu, standing in the front, suddenly dropped to his knees. “Y/N, I was an idiot. No—worse than an idiot. I don’t even have a word for how dumb I was. Please, please forgive me.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. “You’re really kneeling?”

“Yes,” Mingyu said without hesitation. “I’ll stay here all night if I have to.”

Seungcheol cleared his throat, stepping forward. “We all made a huge mistake. We let frustration cloud our judgment, and we blamed you without any proof. That was wrong. You didn’t deserve that.”

“We should have believed in you,” Joshua added, his usual warmth returning to his voice. “You’re our family.”

One by one, they all spoke up, each admitting their faults, each apologizing sincerely. Even Jihoon, who rarely showed emotions so openly, muttered, “I was too quick to judge. I’m sorry.”

Y/N took her time, letting them squirm under her scrutiny. She could see the genuine regret on their faces, the desperation in their eyes. And a wicked idea formed in her mind.

She sighed dramatically, placing a hand on her hip. “I don’t know… maybe I should just leave the group.”

The reaction was immediate.

“What?!”

“No, no, no!”

“Y/N, please, don’t even joke about that!”

Seungkwan looked ready to burst into tears. “I swear, if this is because of us—”

“I’ll do anything!” Mingyu pleaded. “I’ll cook for you for a year! I’ll do your laundry! I’ll—”

Y/N burst into laughter, unable to hold back any longer. “Relax, I was just messing with you.”

The collective groan that followed was almost comical. Seungcheol placed a hand over his heart, exhaling in relief. “Don’t do that! I nearly had a heart attack.”

Jeonghan narrowed his eyes. “You’re evil.”

Y/N smirked. “That’s what you get for doubting me.”

Despite their moment of panic, the mood shifted almost instantly. Hoshi pulled Y/N into a bone-crushing hug, and soon, the others piled on, a mess of tangled limbs and relieved laughter.

“Still mad at us?” Vernon asked as they finally pulled away.

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled. “I should be. But I guess I’ll forgive you guys. Just this once.”

They all cheered, and for the first time that night, everything felt right again.

“Well… on one condition,” Y/N added, crossing her arms. “I want my favorite ice cream.”

Without hesitation, Dino shot up. “I got it! I’ll get it right now!” And before anyone could react, he was already sprinting out the door.

The others laughed, shaking their heads as they watched him go. Finally, things were back to normal.

[rvmanoffbarnes]

Talking body || Gong Yoo x reader)

Summary: Gong Yoo decides to take his girlfriend Y/N to a remote cabin, to celebrate their anniversary as a couple. Far from all the comments and criticisms about the age gap between both of them. Y/N forgets about all that, especially when Gong Yoo takes care of it.

Author's note: the reader is 28 years old and Gong Yoo is 45 years old. This one shot contains smut and explicit language. Please minors DNI.

《tags: sex, minors dni, +18, smut, mentions of boob grabing, dick and pussy, age gap, Gong Yoo being desesperate for reader's, cumming》

"Babe, this is beautiful" Y/N says looking at the view of the cabin's balcony.

Gong Yoo smiles when he sees the emotion painted on his girlfriend's face. He had planned this escape for a long time, but what led him to do it were the thousands of comments they both received from their families when they were together. The age difference between them was 17 years, but they were both conscious adults and responsible for the decisions they made.

When Gong Yoo met Y/N he couldn't let her go so easily, she had captivated him with her simple and sweet nature, plus she was beautiful. Everything about her was beautiful according to him.

She was the love of his life.

He stands behind the girl and hugs her from behind. He wraps his arms around her stomach and plants a kiss on her cheek, admiring the scenery as well. Y/N leaves her hands on his and lets out a sigh, resting her head on his body.

"I needed this," she whispers "Thank you"

Gong Yoo looks at her with a sparkle in his eyes, a look like when one is in love. The man kisses the girl's cheek again, earning a giggle from her.

"I have another surprise for you," the man says, moving away from the girl and taking her hand to guide her to the bathroom.

Y/N follows him and when they both enter the bathroom, she is greeted by a jacuzzi with bubbles, rose petals in the water, and chocolate covered strawberries. There is a champagne on the sink cabinet, which Gong Yoo takes along with two refined glasses to serve the liquid. She smiles moved and can't help but think about how lucky she is to have him.

Gong Yoo hands her her glass and clinks hers with his glass.

"To make it an unforgettable escape" the man grabs the girl by the waist and pulls her towards him, giving her a peck on her lips, before continuing "Where all our worries and the comments of the rest disappear. Because no one can tell me who to be with or who to fall in love with. What matters is what we feel," he admits" and let me tell you that what I feel for you is something that I want to feel for the rest of my life."

Y/N smiles softly as her eyes get shiny. She feels her heart race with such a statement and it is what assures her that this is true. That she wants to be with him. And he with her. It's true that the comments from her family and his family still crunched in her head, but upon seeing the security and sincerity of her boyfriend's words, mixed with tenderness and love, she simply forgot about the rest. Now only they mattered.

"Only if you'll let me have you" Gong Yoo whispers in her lips.

She kisses him and then answers:

"Always. You'll always have me" she promises.

They both clink their glasses and bring them to their lips to swallow the champagne. With the promise of their true and genuine love.

Gong Yoo kisses her forehead tenderly and takes his glass and hers from her hands to put them aside and put his hands back on the girl's body. She raises her hands to the man's chest and looks at him listening to what he has to say.

"So, now, we should take advantage of this hot and comfortable jacuzzi to get through the cold," he says, raising an eyebrow suggestively. Y/N laughs sheepishly “What do you say, princess?”

She pretends to think about it and then nods.

"I say we don't waste more time"

Gong Yoo smiles.

After Y/N left her pajamas ready on the bed, she walks to the bathroom with her robe on.

There, Gong Yoo is waiting for her, already sitting in the jacuzzi waiting for his girlfriend. The black-haired man smiles when he sees her with blushing cheeks. The man still found it charming that she was still nervous despite having explored their bodies on previous occasions.

She opens her robe and lets it fall to the floor, feeling the softness with which this garment slips from her body, giving her chills. Now, she's completely naked to him.

She is observed under the watchful eye of Gong Yoo, who stretches out his hand to help her enter the jacuzzi. His eyes do not admire her with vulgarity, but affection, desire, charm and love. He never gets tired of admiring her, something that Gong Yoo has been responsible for making her notice.

"Beautiful" he says and then gives her a kiss "As always"

Y/N can't take any more of the red color and heat that covers her cheeks.

Gong Yoo sits her next to him and puts his arm around her, stretching it out to take a chocolate-covered strawberry. The man offers it to the girl and she bites it without thinking twice. It's one of her favorite desserts. She chews and licks her lips savoring the fruit, being seen by Gong Yoo, who bites into the rest of it. In an act that seems as if they had shared a kiss.

"You like it?" the man asks and smiles when he sees how the girl nods her head.

Y/N turns to pick one up for Gong Yoo and put it in front of his mouth, who receives it immediately. And Y/N imitates the gesture he made first.

Gong Yoo tastes the fruit and lowers his arm to the girl's naked waist under the water and caresses her skin in circles with his fingers.

She gets as close to him as she can to feel the heat of his body, despite the temperature of the water.

"This is beautiful, Gong Yoo" she says tenderly "I don't know how to thank you"

"You don't have to thank me, just enjoy it," he whispers against her lips before stealing a kiss from her.

She kisses back and this gives Gong Yoo time to cradle her face in his hands. A rough hand of his slides to the girl's thighs, lifting it so that one leg of hers is on his lap, close to his member. Y/N runs her hand up the man's chest, caressing his skin as she feels the kiss intensify. They continue their tongue dance until Gong Yoo pulls away from her so she can breathe.

"Come here," he tells her, taking her by the waist and lifting her slightly off the water to sit her back against his chest between his legs.

He runs his hands up the girl's legs under the water and his lips move to her neck. Y/N closes her eyes enjoying the caresses the man provides and the kisses he leaves on her neck.

"So pretty...." he whispers "And only mine."

She clings closer to his body, turning her on with what he says in her ear. The girl stretches her arm above his head and surrounds him with it, pulling the man's hair with every kiss and caress he gives her. Gong Yoo explores her body with his hands and stops one hand on the girl's stomach to hold her in place, while the other goes up to her tit, which he squeezes to his liking. Y/N moans, throwing her head back and closing her eyes.

"Mm, love" Y/N says, immersed in the ecstasy of the moment.

Gong Yoo lets out a mischievous laugh as he feels his girlfriend's hands take his hands to bring them to her breasts and motivate him to continue squeezing them. It is an action that she usually does every time the things get heated between them.

"Do you like it when I play with your tits?" He asks, gently biting the girl's neck, feeling her ass move.

"Yeah, please..... Please," she asks in a moan.

Gong Yoo laughs and squeezes one tit while the other goes down to the girl's entrance. His fingers play along the girl's pelvis, and then go down to where she needs him the most. She tries to move to feel the friction on her pussy, and is relieved when Gong Yoo decides to stick his fingers in a back-and-forth motion.

"That feels pretty good, doesn't it?" he whispers in her ear without stopping his movements. She whimpers and moves her head, stretching it to reach the man's lips, which receive her with pleasure. While he devours her mouth, she wraps her hand around his wrist so he can continue his movements on her clitoris. He begins to cup her pussy to continue giving the girl pleasure.

"I can't get enough of hearing you, baby. Come on, who makes you feel good?" he asks her, briefly parting from her lips. She follows him, but he doesn't let her that easily so she can respond, "Come on, honey, who makes you feel good with their fingers opening you up and toying you the way you like, uh?"

"You, love. You.... Gong Yoo" she tells him in a pleasant whimper.

He smiles satisfied and continues moving his fingers in circles inside the girl, feeling how she closes him with her walls. He knows that the girl is about to cum, he can feel it.

He catches her lips in a kiss as he continues to touch her to his liking. She moves against his fingers moaning desperately. The sound of water crashing violently can be heard throughout the room, caused by the girl's movements due to the pleasure she feels.

"I'm going to cum" she says.

Gong Yoo increases the pace of his fingers and it's enough to make the girl cum on his fingers. He feels her cum all over his fingers, and slaps her pussy to make hern understand that she has done a pretty good mess.

"You did so good to me, baby" he kisses her temple, hearing the girl's labored breathing in an attempt to catch her breath.

"That felt good, didn't it?" he asks her with his hand still cradling her pussy. She nods, still blown away by the climax she reached thanks to her man's long fingers "Yeah, you did so good, my love. Like a good girl"

Y/N sighs with a smile plastered on her face.

They stay in the jacuzzi for a while longer until the water turns cold. Gong Yoo helps her clean her and then helps her up from the water to takes his towel to put it around his waist and then wrap the other towel around the girl's body. He kisses her forehead and carries her in his arms bridal style to the bed.

Gong Yoo helps her put on her pajamas, and also moisturizes her legs, arms, stomach, and neck. Then he tucks her under the covers and he gets in to hug her against his body.

She sighs sleepily.

"I love you" he says in her ear.

"I love you too" the girl answers.

And they both fall asleep peacefully.

[only-luce-the-goose]

Meet cute over a spilled drink

I'm trying to get as much out as possible with my limited time. My inbox is always open, enjoy!

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The café was buzzing with late afternoon energy—baristas steaming milk, the soft hum of conversation, and the occasional clang of a coffee cup meeting its saucer. I had just picked up my iced caramel latte, scrolling through my phone as I made my way to the exit. That’s when it happened.

A firm body collided with mine, a gasp of surprise escaping my lips as cold liquid splashed across my shirt. I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the sticky sweetness seep into the fabric.

"Oh shit, I am so sorry!" a voice with a smooth British accent exclaimed.

I looked up, my frustration momentarily forgotten. Lando Norris. As in, the Formula 1 driver. The one with the cheeky grin and curls that somehow always looked effortlessly perfect. He was standing there, eyes wide in horror, holding what used to be his drink, now an empty cup.

“Wow,” I muttered, looking down at the mess on my top. “I didn’t realize today was bring-your-own-shower day.”

Lando let out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah… not my best move. Let me make it up to you?”

I raised an eyebrow. “How? Another coffee I won’t get to drink?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Dinner. My treat. Least I can do.”

I hesitated for a moment, but the way he was looking at me—genuine, apologetic, and maybe just a little hopeful—made it impossible to say no.

“Fine,” I said, sighing dramatically. “But only because I’m starving.”

Dinner turned out to be far better than I expected. What started as a quick apology meal turned into hours of conversation. Lando was easy to talk to—charming and witty, but also refreshingly down-to-earth. He listened intently, asked questions, and laughed at my terrible jokes. By the time we left the restaurant, I’d nearly forgotten about the coffee incident.

The air was crisp as we walked along the quiet streets, the city lights twinkling above us. At some point, Lando nudged my shoulder playfully.

“So… worst first impression ever, or do I still have a shot?”

I glanced at him, smirking. “You did ruin my favorite shirt.”

He put his hands up in defense. “True, but I also bought you dinner. That has to count for something.”

I pretended to consider. “Hmm… I suppose.”

His expression turned mock-serious. “You drive a hard bargain.”

We kept walking until we reached a quiet stretch by the water. The moon cast a soft glow over everything, making it feel like we were in our own little world. Without thinking, I slipped my hand into his. He squeezed it gently, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.

“Glad I spilled that drink,” he murmured.

I looked up at him, my heart fluttering. “Me too.”

[nyancreeperpony]

I feel like The Substance is like if Death Becomes Her's premise was a little less comedy and a little more horror.

[fxckinemo]

i think i just met an angel????

[lyssafreyguy]

God . . . imagine thinking Laios is a bad person who doesn't care about people. actual insanity.

[medicinemane]

Mike johnson has so god damn much blood on his hands, obviously Ukrainian blood, but also plenty of American blood

Refusing to renew something that helps vets exposed to atomic blast and Americans who were downwind of the fall out... it's just sick. I can't fucking stand mike johnson, he's one of the worst scum to ever be in congress, and that's fucking saying something

"Johnson refused to allow House members to vote on bipartisan legislation to renew and improve the program"

Fucking quivering little pimple seems to have a real MO for just wringing his hands while insisting it's not his fault, he just can't do the one fucking part of his job of putting shit up to a vote... oh boo hoo, so sad, he'll just have to unilaterally let funding expire on things instead of literally just putting it up to our elected representatives to see if they want to vote yay or nay

Single handedly make the choices but it's not his fault when they work out how they do

Murderer

[fragglerockopinions]

.

[your-fave-is-bi]

Having a good time, haVING A GOOD TIME!

[exopelagic]

why do applications feel like your soul is being lightly roasted at 180C

[mephisto-reporting]

Husband?

About: How does he react when you accidentally call him your 'husband'? Pairing: Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are in a relationship. My inbox is open for prompts and requests :)

RAFAYEL

The evening was going smoother than expected, considering Rafayel had dragged you along to one of his many gallery showings. He had made a big deal about how you should be the one showing off his work to the public, claiming he didn’t want to deal with the “art-snobs." Yet, the second you both arrived, he quickly preoccupied himself on his phone, leaving you to handle most of the small talk.

One of the visitors, a curious older woman, was admiring a painting of his, a chaotic burst of color with soft hints of golden light. You were discussing Rafayel’s "creative process" (whatever that was—he hadn't told you much before retreating to his phone), when she asked how long you’d been working with him.

“Oh, it’s been a while now. It’s honestly amazing seeing him grow like this—my husb—” You froze mid-sentence, realizing the slip just as it left your mouth.

"Husband?"

The word hung in the air for barely a second before you felt Rafayel’s presence shift. His head shot up like a bolt of lightning, his playful, cunning eyes locking onto yours. You could practically feel his grin before you even dared to glance over. You didn’t even need to turn around to feel his gaze burning into you, practically shouting, Oh? Husband, you say?

“Husband, huh?” Rafayel drawled, pocketing his phone and sauntering toward you with that signature smirk of his. “I didn’t realize we were making things official tonight. If I’d known, I’d have worn something even more dazzling.”

You flushed, attempting to stammer out a correction, but he was far too pleased to let you off the hook that easily. He leaned casually against the gallery wall, one arm crossing his chest as he dramatically placed a hand over his heart.

He gently took your hand in his, his dramatic flair dialed up to maximum as he pressed an exaggerated kiss to your knuckles, clearly relishing the moment. "I mean, I can’t say I’m surprised. Who wouldn’t want to marry someone as charming as me?"

The visitor chuckled awkwardly, clearly not sure whether to stay or go, but Rafayel was already having way too much fun. “Of course, as your loving husband,” he continued, drawing out the word in a singsong voice, “it’s only fitting that I’m showered with even more attention now, isn’t it? I expect lots of praise, darling. I mean, just look at me." He struck a faux thought-provoking pose, tilting his head and flipping a lock of his perfectly tousled hair.

You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but at the same time, his antics made you laugh. “I didn’t mean to—"

"Oh no, no,” he interrupted, wagging his finger playfully. “You can’t take it back now. The word’s out, Miss Bodyguard. You’ve called me your husband. That means you’re stuck with me. Forever.” There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Does this mean I get to cheat at board games forever too?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you playfully swatted at his shoulder. “As if you needed a reason to cheat more!”

Rafayel laughed, that familiar bratty grin plastered across his face. “Well, if I’m your husband now, I think it’s only fair I get first dibs on everything. Cards, claw machines—oh, and don’t forget, I demand the comfiest seat when we binge-watch our shows.”

Despite his teasing, the warmth in his eyes made your heart skip a beat. You could see the genuine delight he took in your slip-up, how pleased he was at the thought, even if he’d never admit it outright.

“Fine, fine,” you sighed dramatically, playing along. “But don’t expect me to let you win at everything, ‘husband.’”

Rafayel beamed, and for a moment, that bratty, carefree mask of his slipped, just a little. He tugged you closer, his voice softening as he murmured, “Deal.” Then, just as quickly, he switched back to his usual, cheeky self. “Now, let’s go, wife. You’re required to be by my side while I survive this boring night. ”

Shaking your head, you laughed, unable to hide the smile creeping onto your lips. “You’re impossible.”

The woman, watching the scene unfold with a warm smile, laughed. “You two make quite the pair.”

“Oh, we do, don’t we?” Rafayel quipped before lowering his voice just enough for only you to hear, leaning in ever so slightly. “You’ve really outdone yourself, calling me that in front of witnesses. Now they’ll all expect a wedding invitation.”

Your face burned as you tried to shush him, but he was loving every second of it. He tilted his head, his hair catching the light as his smile softened into something more genuine, the bratty exterior fading just a bit. “Still… I can’t say I hate the sound of it,” he murmured, brushing a finger lightly under your chin before pulling back with a playful wink. “I might just get used to hearing it.”

You could only manage a huff of exasperation, but deep down, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter at the way his teasing had just a hint of sincerity behind it.

Rafayel, always dramatic, and yet somehow, just when you least expected it, a little bit sweet.

ZAYNE

You and Zayne were in the middle of your usual weekly grocery run, efficiently dividing and conquering your list to save time. He’d taken off towards the produce section while you headed for the rice aisle. As you browsed the different varieties, a middle-aged man beside you struggled with lifting a heavy bag of rice.

"Need a hand?" you asked, stepping in to help. The man smiled gratefully as you hoisted the bag into his cart with ease.

"Thank you, young lady," he said, rubbing his wrist. "My arthritis is flaring up today. Getting old’s no fun."

You offered him a sympathetic smile. “No problem at all. My husband’s a doctor, actually. I’m sure he’d tell you to take it easy on that wrist."

The man nodded in agreement, offering you one last thanks before heading off. You turned back to your cart, completely unaware of the word you had just let slip—husband—or the fact that Zayne had returned in time to hear it.

You felt him step up behind you, his presence calm yet undeniably magnetic. When you finally glanced over, he was standing there, hands in his pockets, a small, amused smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"Husband, hmm?" he said softly, his tone more curious than teasing. "That's... new."

You froze for a second, eyes widening as you realized what you’d said.  You opened your mouth, the words tripping over each other in a rush. “I didn’t— I mean, it just—slipped out. We’re not actually—I mean, obviously, we’re not—” You could feel the heat creeping up your neck, and no amount of backpedaling was helping.

Zayne didn’t seem in a rush to let you off the hook. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining with an ease that made your heart stutter. “You know,” he said, voice as calm as ever, “if this is your way of bringing it up, there are smoother ways to do it.” His teasing was subtle, barely perceptible if you didn’t know him well, but it was there in the gentle tug of his smile.

You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. “Zayne, I didn’t mean to—”

But Zayne, ever level-headed, merely took your hand in his, his thumb gently brushing against your knuckles. “Relax,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “It’s not like I mind the idea.”

Your heart skipped a beat at that, and you looked up at him in surprise. There was a softness in his usually stoic gaze, the kind that made your stomach flip. He continued, his voice measured but affectionate, “Seems like the next logical step, doesn’t it? My parents have been asking me when I’m going to take that step with you for a while now.”

His calm tone made the statement feel both casual and monumental at the same time. “Wait, your parents…?” you started, blinking as your brain processed this new information.

“Mhm,” Zayne replied, still holding your hand as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “They’ve been pretty vocal about it, actually. But I’ve been waiting for the right moment.”

The right moment. Those words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of what he was saying. He was serious—calm and casual, as always, but serious. Your breath caught, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade into the background. It was just you and Zayne in that grocery aisle, hands linked, talking about a future you hadn’t even realized you both wanted.

“Only if you wanted to, of course,” he added, his thumb still tracing soft circles on your hand. “I wouldn’t do anything unless we both agreed.”

You stared at him, a smile slowly spreading across your face despite the initial shock. “You’re really suggesting this now? In the middle of a grocery store?”

Zayne smirked, his usual pragmatic self. “Well, we’re already talking about it. Might as well make use of the time.” He glanced down at your joined hands, his tone softening again. “Besides, I think it’s worth discussing what our future looks like, don’t you?”

Your heart swelled at his words, and the warmth of his hand in yours was enough to make you feel grounded, no matter how your emotions were spinning. “Yeah,” you said, smiling as you squeezed his hand gently. “I think it’s definitely worth talking about.”

Zayne leaned in closer, his lips brushing your temple in a rare public display of affection. “Good,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet kind of affection that made your chest tighten. “We’ll talk more later.”

He pulled away just as smoothly, picking up the cart with a practiced ease, as though he hadn’t just suggested the two of you start planning your future together. His eyes twinkled, a subtle tease hiding behind that usual calm exterior of his.

“And for the record,” he added, as the two of you moved on to the next aisle, “I wouldn’t mind hearing you call me ‘husband’ again.”

Your cheeks heated again, but this time, you didn’t bother trying to hide your smile. “Guess you’ll have to earn it first, doctor.”

Zayne chuckled softly, that familiar, grounded confidence in his voice. “I’ll be sure to work on that.”

SYLUS

The desert sun was relentless, and you could feel its heat pressing down on you as you stood beside Sylus, waiting to be seated inside the restaurant. He had dragged you out of Linkon on one of his mysterious ventures—no explanation, no warning, just the two of you thrust into the desert with little more than his cryptic directions. And while Sylus might have thrived in the N109 Zone's shadowy world, he was decidedly out of place here in the glaring sunlight,already starting to show hints of discomfort.

You glanced over at him, squinting slightly under the bright light. His expression was carefully controlled as always, but you noticed how his hand twitched subtly as if annoyed by the heat. The two of you had been waiting to be seated inside for a while now, and you decided it was time to speed things up.

Catching the attention of a passing waitress, you waved her over, putting on your best expression of concern. “Excuse me, my husband and I were hoping to be seated inside. I’m feeling a little faint under the harsh sun,” you said smoothly, the lie of you feeling faint rolling off your tongue with ease.

The word husband had slipped out so naturally, you didn’t even realize your mistake until the waitress nodded sympathetically and promised to get you a table indoors right away. As she walked off, you felt a cold gaze slide over you, and you turned to see Sylus staring down at you, one brow raised, a slow, dangerous smile creeping across his face.

“Husband?” His voice was smooth, but there was a teasing lilt beneath it. “Did I miss a wedding, wife?”

Your breath caught in your throat. "Wait—no, I didn't mean—" You started to stammer, heat rising to your cheeks, but before you could backtrack any further, Sylus’ arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer to his side. His grip was firm, possessive, and you could feel the smug amusement radiating off of him.

“I like the sound of that,” he murmured, leaning in just close enough for you to catch the scent of the desert air still clinging to his clothes. His lips ghosted near your ear, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Maybe this is a sign I should make it official.”

You swallowed hard, heart racing as you tried to keep your composure. “Official?” you echoed, your voice coming out a little more breathless than you intended. “What—what are you talking about?”

Sylus’ smirk widened, his amber eyes gleaming in the sun. “Oh? Cat got your tongue, Sweetie?” he teased, his tone dripping with amusement as he let his fingers trace a light circle on your hip. “You seemed so sure a moment ago, wife. But now? Speechless.”

You blinked, trying to gather your wits, but the sheer cockiness in his tone was making it hard to think straight. “I…I was just…helping us get a table,” you protested weakly, trying to pull away from his grip, but his hold only tightened.

“Oh, I’m sure you were,” he drawled, clearly reveling in your flustered state. “But now that you’ve set the bar so high, don’t tell me you’re going to back out on me. After all, you made quite the declaration back there.”

“I wasn’t—” You huffed, narrowing your eyes at him as you regained a sliver of your usual confidence. “You know it was a slip-up, Sylus. Don’t start getting ideas.”

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Ideas? Sweetie, I live for ideas.” His grip loosened just enough to let you step back, but the way he looked at you made it clear he wasn’t about to let you wriggle out of this one easily. “But let’s be honest, you didn’t hate it. Calling me your husband.”

Your face flushed again, but this time, you managed to meet his gaze without faltering. “I didn’t hate it,” you admitted, folding your arms, “but don’t go thinking you’ve won. I’m not about to sign any papers just because you liked hearing it.”

Sylus tilted his head, the playful smile never leaving his lips. “We’ll see about that, kitten” he said, the threat—or promise—hanging in the air between you as the waitress returned to guide you inside.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Please, Sylus. You couldn’t handle being married to me.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning in with that infuriating smirk. “Oh, I think I could handle you just fine, sweetheart. You’re the one who might need to keep up.”

You shot back, “Keep up? I’d be carrying you the whole way.”

“Careful, Sweetie. That sounds an awful lot like a challenge.” He chuckled, his hand brushing against yours again. “Now that’s a tempting thought.”

“Tempting? Try exhausting,” you quipped.

As you walked beside him, you felt his arm brush against yours, and the sensation lingered far longer than it should have. Sylus, of course, said nothing, though the smug expression never quite left his face.

This was clearly far from over. And judging by the glint in his eye, Sylus was going to make sure you never forgot your little slip-up.

XAVIER

The café was quiet, filled with the soft murmur of patrons and the comforting smell of fresh pastries. You and Xavier had settled in for a peaceful afternoon, your table already adorned with a delightful array of treats. He had requested a simple drink—no whipped cream. The barista returned, placing his drink in front of him with an impressive mountain of whipped cream on top. Xavier, as calm and indifferent as ever, simply blinked at it, showing no signs of complaint. He wasn’t going to say a word about it, but that didn’t mean you were going to let it slide.

Excusing yourself, you raised a hand and called over a passing staff member. “Excuse me,” you began, with a polite smile. “My husband asked for no whipped cream on his drink, but it looks like there’s some here by mistake. Would it be alright for us to get it changed?”

The words tumbled out so smoothly that you didn’t even realize your slip-up until the staff member nodded apologetically and hurried back to fix the order. It was only when you turned back around that you saw Xavier sitting there, looking unusually... stunned.

He was blinking slowly at you, his expression softened by a hint of confusion and—was that amusement? “Husband?” he repeated, his soft voice barely more than a murmur.

Your face flushed as you fumbled for an explanation. “Oh, no, wait—! I didn’t mean—” You stammered, desperately trying to backtrack. “That just slipped out! I meant to say…uh my boyfriend? Partner? Date? Not—well, not husband, obviously…”

Xavier continued to blink, his face now showing just a little more expression than usual. The faintest curl of a smile played on his lips, and he tilted his head, considering your words. “I must’ve missed that chapter in the 'Guide to a Healthy Relationship,'” he said in that calm, unruffled way of his. “I didn’t know we’d moved on to the husband-and-wife stage.”

You groaned inwardly, burying your face in your hands. “I swear, it was an accident. Just ignore what I said.”

But Xavier was clearly in no mood to let it go. “So, dear wife,” he continued, completely unfazed by your protests, “do you think we’ll have matching mugs in our future? Maybe get a nice house, with a small garden and a picket fence?”

You shot him a playful glare, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to stay annoyed. “Very funny,” you muttered, though your lips were twitching at the corners, betraying your amusement.

“I think it has a nice ring to it,” Xavier said, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying this far more than you expected. “I wonder how long it would take for people in the association to start sending us wedding gifts. Or perhaps they'd just send weapons... you know, as a gesture of goodwill.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t think wedding gifts are really their style, Xavier.”

“Hmm, you’re probably right,” he said thoughtfully, then leaned in slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “But you did call me your husband in public. Shouldn’t we at least play the part now?”

Your cheeks were burning, but you couldn’t resist playing along with his ridiculousness. “Fine,” you said, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. “But just so you know, dear husband, you’ll be the one doing the dishes.”

Xavier chuckled softly, the sound rare and surprisingly warm. “As long as you take care of meals. A fair trade.”

You were about to retort when the waitress returned with Xavier’s newly corrected drink—this time, free of whipped cream. She set it down with a smile, glancing between the two of you as if she’d picked up on the playful atmosphere. “Here you go,” she said. “No whipped cream this time, sir.”

Xavier’s eyes glinted as he thanked her with a nod, and after she left, he looked back at you with a satisfied expression. “See? Husband perks,” he teased, taking a sip of his drink.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile spreading across your face. “You’re an idiot.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he said, the teasing lilt in his voice gentler now. He took your hand under the table, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But... thank you,” he added after a beat, his voice softer and more sincere. “For speaking up for me.”

You blinked at him, momentarily thrown off by the gratitude in his tone. “Of course,” you said, squeezing his hand in return. “That’s what wives do, right?”

Xavier let out a soft laugh. “I suppose so,” he murmured, his lips quirking into a rare, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat.

In that moment, with his hand in yours and the gentle teasing in the air, it was easy to forget the world outside the café. Just the two of you, playing pretend—but maybe, just maybe, something more.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

[hellobykittys]

𝐒𝐇𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ✦ 𝐎𝐏⁸¹

SUMMARY: You are Lando Norris’ twin sister and were completely obsessed with your brother’s teammate, but he was always avoiding you. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. PAIRING: Oscar Piastri x Reader! Lando Norris’ Sister. WARNING: Hot scenes, but not explicit; use of Y/N; Oscar is very shy. WC: 4.7k

MASTERLIST | THE (IM)PERFECT PLAN SERIE

“You need to go a little easier on him,” Lando said as soon as he entered the small room, throwing his backpack onto the chair with a tired sigh. “Oscar’s shy, and you’re scaring the poor guy to death.”

You, leaning against the desk with your legs crossed and your eyes glued to your phone, ignored the first part of the comment. But the last part caught your attention.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, feigning disinterest.

“Oh, come on, don’t act dumb,” Lando shot back, crossing his arms with a smirk. “You’re cornering Oscar. I was going to let it slide because, honestly, it’s hilarious. But look, you’re going too far, and he clearly doesn’t know how to handle it.”

You realized denying it would be pointless. Lando knew exactly what you were doing, and probably the whole paddock did too. Maybe it was time to turn the tables in your favor.

“Did he complain about me?” you asked, now genuinely curious, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Because, seriously, I don’t get it. Sometimes it seems like he doesn’t care, but then, in the next minute, he acts like I’m the personification of chaos.”

Your voice carried a touch of frustration. Ever since you met Oscar last season, you had done everything to get his attention. Flirting, glances, little touches. But he always pulled away or acted like he didn’t notice. His shyness, which once seemed charming, was now starting to feel like an impenetrable barrier.

Lando laughed, clearly enjoying himself at your expense. “You know what’s funny? You think you can melt anyone with that smile and some games. But let me tell you, Oscar’s different. He’s more… reserved.”

“I know that,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “And that’s exactly why I’m trying harder. He’s not like the others. It just makes it more interesting.”

Lando shook his head, incredulous. “You’re impossible, you know that? But look, if you keep this up, he’s gonna start running away from you. Like, literally. One day, he’s gonna abandon the car in the middle of the track just to escape.”

You laughed. “He already runs, just in a way less obvious than that. But he’ll get used to it. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Or a restraining order.”

“Funny,” you replied, giving him a sharp look.

After a brief silence, you decided to change tactics. “You could help me out!” you asked, in an exaggeratedly sweet tone.

“No way. Stay out of this, Y/N,” Lando responded quickly, as if he already knew where this was going.

“You’re so heartless!” you retorted, with a theatrical touch. “I come every weekend to support you, and this is how I’m treated? You should, I don’t know, compensate me for always being by your side.”

“Support? You’re kidding, right?” Lando laughed. “The whole team already figured out why you’re always here. And the only person who might not have noticed is Oscar himself.”

“What slander!” you snapped, placing a hand on your chest as if deeply offended. “I come because I like my brother. And I thought he liked me too, but apparently, he doesn’t care enough to help me with something so simple.”

Lando just laughed and raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. What exactly do you want me to do?”

“Simple. Find out if he likes me or not. Easy, right?”

Before you could continue the discussion, someone knocked on the door, interrupting the conversation.

“Come in!” Lando replied casually.

The door opened to reveal Oscar. Your excitement was immediate. He, on the other hand… didn’t seem as thrilled to see you.

“I didn’t know your sister was here,” he said to Lando, hesitantly. “I didn’t want to interrupt. I’ll come back later.”

Before he could leave, you rushed to his side and lightly placed your hand on his arm, still covered by his racing suit.

“You don’t have to leave, Osc,” you said softly, your fingers purposely brushing against the fabric of his suit. “Lando and I weren’t talking about anything important. Feel free to stay.”

Oscar hesitated but eventually gave in. “Alright, if you say so…”

Oscar tried to pull away from your touch without being rude, and you, noticing his discomfort, decided to ease the tension and let him slip away.

“Well… I just wanted to ask about the car adjustments for tomorrow. But I guess I interrupted something…” He seemed genuinely uncomfortable, which only made you want to tease him even more.

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” you replied with a calm smile. “Actually, I’ll just sit here quietly while you two chat.”

With that, you sat down in a chair lost in the room, pretending to fiddle with your phone while you took the opportunity to observe Oscar. The way he spoke, gestured, or even furrowed his brow when something seemed confusing… it was fascinating.

The two of them spent a few minutes discussing technical adjustments for the car when they were interrupted again. This time, it was someone from the PR team, rushing in to inform Lando that they needed him for an urgent photo session.

“I’m on my way,” Lando said, standing up. But before leaving, he gave you a calculated look. “Oscar, can you stay here? Y/N was feeling a bit nauseous earlier, and I didn’t want her to be alone.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It was obvious he was making it up, but the feigned concern in his voice was flawless. You knew you owed Lando a big favor now, but it was worth it. For Oscar, everything was worth it.

“Seriously?” Oscar looked visibly surprised, casting a suspicious glance from you to Lando. “Alright, if she needs anything…”

“Thanks a lot, buddy,” Lando replied with a mischievous smile, giving Oscar’s arm a friendly squeeze before walking toward the door. “I’ll be back soon. Wait for me here.”

As soon as the door closed, you jumped up and practically ran to the couch, pulling Oscar down to sit next to you before he could even react.

“Thanks so much for staying, Osc,” you said softly, as if you were truly vulnerable. “I wasn’t feeling too great, you know?”

Oscar tensed next to you, clearly uncomfortable. He looked around, as if searching for an escape route. “Is everything okay now? Do you want me to get some water or something?”

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s passed,” you replied, placing your hand on his arm. “I just needed some company. I feel better this way.”

Oscar let out a nervous, short laugh and looked away, clearly trying not to acknowledge the closeness between you two.

“You look cute when you’re nervous, you know?” you remarked, a mischievous smile appearing on your face.

He opened his mouth to respond but seemed to lose his words. Finally, he muttered, “I’m… not nervous.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, leaning in a little closer, until there was almost no space left between you on the small couch. Oscar seemed even more restless, the blush on his face now impossible to hide.

“I think… we don’t need to be this close,” he managed to say, awkwardly trying to pull away. But, poor thing, there was nowhere left to escape.

“Osc,” you started, in a fake hurt tone, looking down at your hands. “I think you don’t like me very much.”

He seemed surprised, the tension in his shoulders easing for a moment. “Why would you think that?”

“Because every time I’m around, you try to get away.” Your voice sounded almost like a lament, and you took the opportunity to glance at him before looking down at your legs. “Did I do something to you?”

When you looked back at him, your face was perfectly molded into a sad expression, your eyes slightly glistening, as if you were truly upset. It was almost impossible not to believe it.

Oscar hesitated, looking genuinely puzzled. “No… of course not. It’s just that…” He stopped, clearly trying to find the right words.

“It’s just that…?” you encouraged, tilting your head.

“You’re… too intense, Y/N,” he finally confessed, his voice low. “I don’t know how to handle you, that’s all.”

A triumphant smile threatened to appear on your lips, but you held it back, keeping up the act. “Intense? I just… like being around you, you know? Is that really so hard?”

Oscar rubbed the back of his neck, visibly uncomfortable. “It’s not that. I’m just not used to… attention.”

“So, you’re saying I make you uncomfortable?” you asked, leaning slightly toward him, closing the space even more.

Oscar looked away, his ears turning even redder. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

Before he could answer, the door suddenly opened, and Lando walked into the room with that typical mischievous smile you knew so well. “Did I interrupt something?”

Oscar practically jumped off the couch, creating visible distance between you two. It was almost comical, but at that moment, you could only curse your brother. He had ruined the perfect moment. You were so close to getting what you wanted!

“No, no,” Oscar quickly denied, the words tumbling out almost in a rush. “Now that you’re here, I… I think I’ll head out. See you before the next practice.”

And without giving anyone a chance to react, he practically bolted out of the room, as if running away from a fire.

You let out a loud sigh, crossing your arms and shooting a deadly glare at Lando, who was still standing in the doorway, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

“You did that on purpose!” you accused, frustration clear in your voice.

“Me? No way,” Lando responded, feigning innocence as he closed the door behind him. “But you should’ve seen his face. Poor guy, he looked like he was going to pass out.”

“He wasn’t going to pass out!” you retorted, throwing a pillow toward your brother, who easily dodged it.

“Alright, alright. But seriously, Y/N, you’re being way too hard on the guy.” He threw himself onto the couch, taking the spot Oscar had just vacated. “Don’t you think he’s nervous enough already? Every time you get close, it’s like he forgets how to breathe.”

You huffed, sinking into the couch next to him. “Maybe he just needs to get used to me. It’s not that hard, right?”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “For you, maybe. But for him? Oscar is… different. He’s not used to someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” you repeated, intrigued.

“You know,” Lando explained, gesturing vaguely. “Someone who’s not afraid to say what they want and go after it. Oscar’s more… reserved. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you, he just doesn’t know how to react.”

You were silent for a moment, processing Lando’s words. Maybe he was right. Maybe Oscar just needed a little more time. But giving up wasn’t an option. Not now.

“Okay,” you finally said, a mischievous smile appearing on your lips. “I’ll go easy on him. For now.”

Lando laughed, clearly amused by your determination. “Good luck, sis. You’re going to need it.”

The next day, you positioned yourself strategically in the garage, waiting for the right moment to find Oscar. When he finally appeared, talking to one of the engineers, you calmly walked over with a relaxed smile, pretending you had no agenda in mind.

“Hey, Osc,” you greeted, your voice light and carefree. “How’s everything after yesterday? You seemed in a rush.”

Oscar turned to you, and it was almost funny how hard he tried to appear casual, even though he was clearly uncomfortable. “Oh, yeah… I was just running late for something.”

“Of course, of course,” you responded with a soft smile. “Well, I hope things are calmer now. Maybe we can chat after qualifying?”

He hesitated, shooting a near-pleading glance at the engineer beside him, as if he was hoping they could save him. But this time, something different sparkled in Oscar’s eyes. It wasn’t fear or discomfort. It was curiosity, though still shy.

“Yeah… maybe,” he finally replied, his voice softer than usual.

You smiled, already considering that a small victory.

Unfortunately, finding Oscar after qualifying turned out to be impossible. Lando secured pole position, and you stayed to congratulate him, while Oscar, with a disappointing P5, was swept into endless conversations with engineers and mechanics.

By the time it was late, almost time to head back to the hotel, you went to Lando’s room to grab your things while he wrapped up the last commitment of the day. That’s when fate decided to be kind.

The door next to your brother’s room opened, and who stepped out but the exact person you’d been hoping to see.

“Osc!” you called out cheerfully, a bright smile on your face.

“Hey.” His response was much less enthusiastic. The tone of defeat and frustrated expression clearly showed that he was still upset about the qualifying result.

“Bummed about P5?” you asked, trying to start a conversation.

“It wasn’t what I expected,” he admitted, crossing his arms. “But I’ll make up for it tomorrow.” There was a forced confidence in his voice that you didn’t miss.

“I’m sure you will! And look, I’m calling the podium: Lando in first, and you in second. What do you think?”

You stepped a little closer, almost unintentionally, trying to minimize the distance between you. But for Oscar, there was nothing subtle about your approach. He clearly noticed.

“You’re optimistic,” he commented, trying to ignore how you seemed to invade his space without hesitation.

“I’m not optimistic, I’m realistic,” you shot back, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

Oscar looked away, clearly looking for an escape route, but you weren’t about to let him slip away so easily.

“Look, Osc,” you began, your tone softening as you leaned in slightly. “I really think you underestimate how good you are at what you do. You’ve got everything to be at the top. You just need to believe in yourself more.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard by your change in tone. You saw the tension in his shoulders ease slightly, and that was enough for you to close the gap just a little more, your smile now sweeter than mischievous.

“You really think so?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

“I know it,” you replied, sincerity shining through.

Oscar still seemed hesitant, but he didn’t pull away when you placed a light hand on his arm, your fingers resting casually. “You just need to learn to relax more. Maybe I can help with that,” you said, your voice almost a whisper.

Oscar swallowed, his eyes finally meeting yours. For a moment, you thought he was going to give in. He seemed torn between wanting to escape and something he clearly didn’t want to admit. You leaned in a little closer, feeling you were on the edge of success.

“You’re really hard, you know?” he murmured, the words practically floating between you two.

Oscar opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. And just as you were about to close the distance even more, he took a step back, almost stumbling into the wall behind him.

“I… I need to go,” he said quickly, his voice shaky but firm. “Good night, Y/N.”

Before you could react, he was already halfway down the hallway, walking so fast it was almost a run.

You let out a frustrated sigh, but deep down, you couldn’t help but smile. Little by little, Oscar was starting to give in, even if he still resisted at the last second. It was only a matter of time.

And you knew very well that you had all the patience in the world to wait.

The paddock was a well-organized chaos, with mechanics, engineers, and drivers moving around frantically as the grandstands filled with enthusiastic fans. You, of course, were there, strategically positioned in Oscar’s team’s garage, pretending to be just casually walking around but with a very clear goal in mind.

He was there, adjusting his gloves while listening carefully to an engineer. He seemed so focused, he could have blended in with the rest of the team. Almost. You, however, always managed to spot him in the crowd.

“Hey, Osc!” you called, walking into the space without any hesitation.

Oscar quickly turned, his eyes widening slightly when he saw you there. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“I came to wish you good luck, of course,” you answered with a sweet but mischievous smile.

“Good luck?” He seemed suspicious, clearly aware that you rarely did something that simple.

“Of course!” You tilted your head slightly, looking at him as if his question was absurd. “You know I’ll be cheering for you too, right? First Lando, and then you!”

Oscar opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, a blush already creeping up his face. He looked around desperately, almost as if hoping someone would save him from the situation. But, as you’d already noticed, no one was paying attention to you two.

“You’re kind of tense, Osc. It won’t go well like this, you know?” You stepped a little closer, lowering your voice slightly, but still clearly teasing. “Are you nervous because of me?”

“No,” he quickly replied, although his tone and the blush on his face said otherwise.

“Hmm… funny,” you murmured, pretending to think. “Because it seems like every time I get close, you get a little… uneasy.”

“Y/N, we’re in the pit… in public,” he whispered, almost as if trying to make you stop.

“So what? No one’s listening, and we’re not doing anything wrong, are we?” you shot back, a smile mixing sweetness and mischief on your lips. “I’m here to support you, Osc. And, speaking of that, I have a proposition for you.”

He squinted his eyes, clearly suspicious. “What kind of proposition?”

“If you get on the podium today… I’ll give you a special gift,” you said, leaning slightly toward him, your voice low but filled with mystery.

“What gift?” He looked at you, nervousness clear on his face, but at the same time, unable to hide his curiosity.

“It’s a surprise,” you replied, winking conspiratorially.

“Y/N…” He sighed, clearly trying to keep his composure. “You know you didn’t have to come here for that, right?”

“I know,” you answered, your smile growing wider. “But what’s the fun in cheering from a distance? Besides, you might not know, but I’m great at picking out gifts.”

Oscar seemed like he was about to say something, but one of the engineers appeared out of nowhere, calling him for the final pre-race meeting. He sighed in visible relief, almost grabbing the opportunity to escape.

“I have to go,” he said quickly.

“Good luck, Osc,” you replied, not hiding your satisfaction. “I’ll be waiting on the podium. And after the race… the gift is all yours.”

He didn’t reply, just nodded quickly before disappearing toward the engineer. You watched as he walked away, even more flushed than before, and let out a soft laugh.

This time, he had no way of backing out of the promise. And, knowing Oscar, the thought of a “special gift” would be enough to keep him thinking about you the whole time—on or off the track.

The end of the race was electrifying. You, as usual, were glued to the screen, following the final minutes with the anticipation of someone on the track. The last lap was a mix of tension and excitement. Lando crossed the finish line in first, and you couldn’t hold back your shout of joy. But what really made you jump out of your seat was when Oscar secured third place, holding off a fierce battle until the final flag.

“Yes! I knew you could do it, Osc!” you murmured to yourself, smiling proudly as you watched the celebration on the screen.

Soon, you were following the team toward the podium. The paddock was a party, with team members rushing to celebrate their drivers. You blended in with Lando’s engineers and mechanics but kept your eyes fixed on Oscar as he got out of the car, exhausted but visibly satisfied.

The celebration on the podium was contagious. Champagne flew from side to side, and Lando’s smile was so wide it seemed to light up the entire circuit. But your gaze never left Oscar, who looked more shy than ever as he raised his trophy. Even amid the celebration, he shot furtive glances at you in the crowd, which only made your smile grow.

As soon as the ceremony was over, everyone went back to the garage. The team was euphoric, celebrating the incredible result of the race. You found Lando first, who came running toward you with his trophy in hand.

“So, what did you think?” he asked, still sweaty and covered in champagne.

“You were amazing! Doesn’t even seem like my brother,” you joked, laughing as he hugged you and got champagne on your clothes.

“And Oscar, huh?” Lando commented, winking at you. “Are you proud of your favorite driver?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “Don’t start, Lando.”

After the initial excitement, you began preparing to leave. Lando had some team commitments to take care of before heading back to the hotel, so you walked through the paddock, waiting for him. You bumped into Oscar, who seemed more relaxed, still talking to a few engineers.

“Congrats, Osc!” you said, with a genuine smile.

He quickly turned his head, as if he hadn’t expected you to appear there. “Oh, thanks,” he replied, a shy smile forming on his lips.

“I told you’d make it to the podium. Now you know what that means, right?” you teased, leaning slightly forward.

Oscar turned bright red, looking away at anything that wasn’t you. “I… think so?”

“Great.” You winked and walked away before he could respond, knowing exactly the effect you were having.

After a while, Lando finally appeared. “Ready to go?”

“More than ready.” You smiled, following him to the car that would take you back to the hotel.

Back at the hotel, the exhaustion from the race still lingered, but the excitement pulsed even stronger. Lando was sprawled on the couch in his room, talking nonstop about the race and, of course, the party that was about to happen.

“I need to get ready. What, you’ve got about 30 minutes before I drag you to the party?” you teased, grabbing your bag.

“Thirty? You’re being way too optimistic,” he laughed. “You wouldn’t be able to get ready in 30 minutes even if Oscar asked you to.”

“Oh, Lando…” You smiled slyly as you walked toward the door. “For Oscar, I’d do it in fifteen.”

Lando’s expression was priceless, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond. You walked out laughing and went straight to your room, already imagining how you’d make the night unforgettable. After all, a P1 for Lando and a P3 for Oscar was more than enough reason to celebrate in style.

You chose a stunning black Versace dress, fitting just right, and paired it with high heels from the same brand. But the special touch was in the details that no one would see—or rather, that almost no one would see: a papaya-colored lingerie set, matching the team’s colors, chosen especially for the occasion.

The team had reserved a table in the VIP section of a luxurious club. The atmosphere was pure euphoria—champagne, loud music, and laughter filled the air. As soon as they arrived, you made sure to sit strategically next to Oscar, who seemed out of place, unsure of what to do with all the attention around him.

“Osc, relax,” you murmured in his ear, smiling as you noticed he seemed more nervous than he had been during the race.

“I’m relaxed,” he replied, but the hand holding his drink was trembling slightly.

The conversation flowed with the team, but you made sure to provoke Oscar in little moments. You brushed your leg against his, made comments about how well he did in the race, and, of course, mentioned the “special present.”

“If I knew a P3 would make you this happy, I would’ve tried harder earlier,” he joked, trying to appear more confident.

“Oh, Osc, you have no idea,” you replied, smiling with an enigmatic tone.

As time went by, more people started to drift away from the table to dance or talk in other corners. Before long, it was just the two of you. That was your cue.

“So, Osc…” You leaned in a little closer, the loud music muffling the conversation. “About my present… do you want to know what it is?”

Oscar blushed instantly, looking away as he always did when he felt uncomfortable. “I… I don’t think I should ask.”

“Oh, you definitely should.” Your voice dropped low, almost a whisper, as your eyes challenged his. “I did something special to celebrate your P3. And maybe to encourage you to get more podiums in the future.”

He swallowed nervously. “I need… to go to the bathroom,” he said quickly, standing up before you could react.

You smiled to yourself. “So predictable,” you murmured as you followed him with determined steps.

Oscar looked genuinely surprised when you appeared in the hallway, blocking his escape route. “Seriously, Y/N? I just wanted a minute of peace.”

“No chance.” You took a step forward, cornering him against the wall, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. “I followed you to show you my present.”

Oscar looked at you, clearly uncomfortable, but his curiosity won out. “I don’t know if I want to see that,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, though the sparkle in his eyes betrayed his curiosity.

You laughed softly, almost amused, and slid the strap of your dress down, revealing a glimpse of the papaya lingerie, the color of the team. “See? Something special for my favorite driver.”

For a moment, Oscar was speechless, his face turning a deeper red than usual. But something seemed to have shifted in him, as if the provocation had awakened something. He took a step forward, closing the distance between you. The look he had now wasn’t shy, but challenging, almost provocative.

“You like to tease, don’t you?” His voice was low but filled with a newfound confidence that you didn’t expect. “But you know what, Y/N? You can’t last three minutes when the roles are reversed.”

The smile on his face made you hesitate for a second, and he immediately seized the opportunity. Without saying another word, he pulled you closer, his hands firmly gripping your waist. The warmth of his body against yours made your heart race, and before you could say anything, Oscar’s lips found yours.

It was an intense, heated kiss, as if he had been swept away by the wave of provocation you had started. Oscar's hands glided over your skin, as if memorizing every part of you, while you couldn't think clearly anymore.

When he pulled away slightly, his eyes glowing in a way you didn't recognize, you were speechless, your body still burning from his proximity and touch.

He leaned in again, whispering in your ear:

"Lost your voice, baby? Always knew you were just talk."

Your breathing was uneven, but you could only stare at him, completely lost.

He grinned to the side, satisfied with the effect he was having.

It didn't take long for him to attack you with even more intense kisses.

You were getting addicted to the taste, to the feeling of being touched by him.

One of his hands slid up your thigh, slowly rising inside your dress. He squeezed your butt firmly, and you couldn't contain a moan. He played with the waistband of your panties, starting to pull them down.

"What are you doing?" you asked, breathless. "Someone might see."

"Now you're afraid of being seen?" he continued, dragging the fabric down your leg. "You never cared before."

He knelt down, completely removing the piece of lingerie.

"But don't worry, baby!" He stood up, pressing his body against yours again.

"I'm not going to do anything here."

He kissed you quickly and pulled away, looking into your eyes while slipping the piece into his pocket.

"If you want it back, find me in my room later."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you there, completely speechless and hungry for more.

[thebreakfastgenie]

You literally posted that chart blaming ppl who abstained from voting and then replied snidely to someone who pointed out that it's victim blaming. You don't want to talk about genocide because you know that you're in the wrong for shaming non-voters

That post has literally nothing to do with Gaza. I didn't even talk about Gaza in response to that comment, I just said that if they truly did not believe Harris was preferable to Trump they had nothing to complain about. If Harris wouldn't be better, then Trump being president is not a metaphorical crime, and therefore there are no victims to blame.

I am shaming non-voters, I'm right to do it and I'll do it again and again and again and again. Choosing not to vote is shameful. I think that even about elections without Donald Trump on the ballot because I have a strong sense of civic duty but it's extra shameful in elections like 2016 and 2024. If non-voters genuinely believe Trump being president is not meaningfully worse than Harris being president, they won't feel shame and they won't care what I think. The problem is that non-voters know they're in the wrong because they can see what's happening as clearly as anyone else. When people ask them "can you honestly say Kamala Harris would [pick anything Trump has done in the last 16 days]?" they never say "yes." Because they can't.

No one wants to actually make the argument that refusing to vote for Harris over Gaza was worth the suffering Trump's election is causing, because it didn't do anything to help Gaza and it didn't pressure Democrats into agreeing with them. The only thing it did was make non-voters avoid feeling bad about voting for Harris. But now they feel bad anyway because they have a sinking feeling that Trump winning is worse. Most of the non-voters now whining wanted Harris to win so they would get the benefits of Harris being president and Trump not being president, but they wanted her to win without their votes so they didn't have to feel bad.

I don't want to talk about Gaza because it's a serious and sensitive topic and I don't feel informed enough to speak about it on my blog, especially when my political posts have been getting thousands of notes. I posted that ask to dissect the insidious pro-Trump rhetoric, not to address the content, and I did not want the piss on the poor website to have a slapfest using people's extreme suffering to score cheap shots at each other in the notes.

The term victim-blaming is for, like, victims of sexual assault and domestic violence. It's not a magic word to avoid taking responsibility ever. Grow the fuck up.

[mywritersmind]

WINNING KISS - LN4

summary : lando isn’t used to being a human mirror, but when a pretty girls tells him to hunch down and let her fix her lipstick in the reflection of his glasses, he’s more than happy to oblige.

listen up : no warnings!!

word count : 750

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I can practically feel the music through my veins. The lights of the club are flashing and my friends are laughing and swinging shots back.

I won today. Singapore has been fucking amazing honestly. Besides the whole drowning in sweat thing.

“So…” Max Fewtrell claps a hand on my shoulder, “Taking a girl home tonight, winner?” He teases me as I roll my eyes and sip my drink, “What- You too tired?” he fakes a frown. I didn’t really want to go out tonight but decided it’s sort of a one in a lifetime thing.

“Go find your girlfriend, idiot.” I eye him.

He throws up his arms and laughs, “Gladly!” As he walks away I feel a hand on my shoulder, spinning me around. I’m surprised who did it had such force for being so small.

A girl stands in front of me, a pencil in hand and for a second I think she’s going to ask for an autograph, “Bend down a bit!” She tugs on my shirt and I do as I'm told because I'm genuinely so confused and the pretty girl means business.

She takes the sunglasses from my head and pushes them over my eyes, looking directly into them and bringing the pencil to her lips.

The ‘pencil’, I now realize, it’s a makeup product and deposits a dark color to her lips as she uses me as her mirror.

As she’s stood in front of me, my eyes can’t help but analyze her. This club is stuffy and smoky but she’s so close I can see everything she has on.

She’s got messy brown hair, silver jewelry, a mini skirt, a fur jacket, and a white corset top. Something about her feels magnetic. She’s stunning.

My eyes go to her lips which she smacks together before pulling out a proper lipstick, as she runs the makeup over her lips I start to smile a bit. She finishes quickly and doesn’t pauses as she starts to place the makeup back in her back.

I slide the glasses down to hang around my neck, I see the recognition appear on her face, “Shit.” She says confidently, “You’re that guy!”

I laugh a bit, standing up straighter and looking down at her, “Nice to meet you too.”

“Sorry! Everyone’s been talking about you today!” My tongue runs over my teeth, smiling a bit, “Thanks for being my mirror. And- congrats, I guess?”

“Thank you. And no problem, I’d never deprive a pretty girl of her lipstick rights.” This makes her laugh and fuck I want to keep her laughing.

She gets a look in her eye, her arms behind her, and her eyes staring up at me, “Well I appreciate it. Like it?” I look at her lips again and I’m beginning to think this is a trick just to make me want to kiss her.

“I do. It suits you.” Her lips pull into a wide smile and she steps a bit closer. “You know- people are talking about me for a reason.” I say, building myself up a bit.

She squints, “Right… A win?” I nod, “You’re celebrating then?”

I nod again, “A bit boring though… if only there was a girl to make my night better.”

She scoffs, “Suppose you want a winning kiss then?” I eye her, sipping my drink once more. My eyes flick to her lips but she doesn’t stop looking at me.

“I mean- your lipstick would look great on me.” I say smugly as she stops herself from smiling, humming and nodding.

“Would it?” She says into my ear, the club getting louder with the music.

“Suppose we’ll have to check and see.” I say in her ear this time and when I pull back, I can tell she’s trying to figure me out.

She hums again, leaning in close and slipping her hand onto my neck. Her cool rings practically sting my hot skin. She turns my head slightly, I feel her stand taller to softly kiss my cheek.

When she pulls away, I’m smirking again, “Let me get your number.” I don’t even ask it as a question.

She pulls the lipliner out of her bag once more, uncapping it with her teeth and taking my arm. She scrolls the numbers slowly against my arm, holding me close.

When she’s done and there’s red numbers up my arm, she closes the product and smiles kindly, saying “Congratulations, winner.” before walking away.

[xo100]

Hey, can you write about landos gf breaking her arm and him taking care of her? like having to help her change and shower, doing her hair und stuff line that? thank you <3

In his care - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1562

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

Lando Norris had always been the playful, light-hearted boyfriend, the type to tease and make you laugh until your stomach hurt. But after three years together, there was a depth to your relationship that went beyond just the banter and the fun. He’d become your best friend, your confidant, and now, your caretaker.

You hadn’t expected to be in this position—broken arm in a sling, unable to do even the most basic things without help. It was a stupid accident, really. A slip, a fall, and now you were stuck in this uncomfortable, frustrating situation. But as it turned out, Lando was more than up for the challenge of taking care of you. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it.

-

The first real test came on day one, when it was time for you to shower. Lando, always the playful one, had teased you when he realized you’d need help.

“So, I get to see you naked... and it’s for ‘medical reasons’? Lucky me,” he said with a wink, earning him an eye-roll from you.

“Lando,” you groaned, cheeks flushing. “This isn’t exactly a fun situation, you know.”

But even as you complained, you couldn’t help but laugh. He had a way of lightening even the most awkward moments. His teasing helped take your mind off the discomfort and frustration of not being able to do things on your own. Lando knew when to joke, and when to be serious.

“I’m kidding, love,” he said, his tone softening as he walked over to you. “I’ve got you, okay?”

And he did. Gently, he helped you undress, his fingers careful around your arm. There was something about the way he moved—confident yet delicate—that made you feel safe. Vulnerable, yes, but never embarrassed. He was Lando, your Lando, and there was no one else you trusted more.

Once you were under the warm spray of water, he joined you, shampooing your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp. It was a strange, intimate experience, but not in a way that made you feel uncomfortable. In fact, it was sweet.

“Maybe I should do this for you more often,” he murmured, lips close to your ear.

“You think I’ll let you wash my hair when I’m fully capable?” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckled, his breath warm on your neck. “You never know, you might like the service.”

But as much as he teased, there was genuine care in the way he handled you. He washed every inch of your body with the gentleness you never knew he had. You leaned into him, resting your head on his chest for a moment, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your ear.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“For being... you.”

-

You never realized how hard it was to do something as simple as put your hair in a ponytail with one hand. By the third day, you were ready to give up on the idea of leaving the house with your hair looking decent. But, of course, Lando wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Okay, I’m going to do it,” he said, determination in his voice as he picked up your hairbrush and an elastic.

You sat in front of him, trying to keep still while he struggled to gather your hair into something resembling a ponytail. The concentration on his face was adorable—his tongue poking out a little as he focused on the task at hand.

“Lando, it’s fine,” you said after the third attempt. “I can just wear it down.”

“No way,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m getting this right.”

It took another few tries, but eventually, he managed to pull your hair into a somewhat lopsided ponytail. He grinned proudly, admiring his work in the mirror behind you.

“Look at that! I’m a pro,” he said, obviously pleased with himself.

You laughed, reaching up with your good hand to touch the ponytail. It wasn’t perfect, but it was endearing in its imperfection.

“I love it,” you said sincerely.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your good shoulder. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

“You’re doing a great job, babe.”

-

As the days went on, Lando had to help you with more than just your hair. Getting dressed with one hand was a nightmare, and you hated having to rely on him for something so simple. But Lando, being the cheeky guy he was, turned it into something fun.

“Alright, love, what’ll it be today?” he asked, holding up two of your shirts. “Sexy red or casual blue?”

You gave him a pointed look. “I’m not trying to impress anyone, Lando.”

He smirked, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’re always impressing me, though.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered at his words. He knew exactly how to make you feel special, even when you were at your most vulnerable.

“Blue,” you said with a sigh, and he grinned.

Helping you get dressed was, of course, another challenge. He was gentle but still fumbled a bit, trying not to hurt your arm as he guided it through the sleeve.

“Sorry, sorry!” he muttered as he accidentally tugged too hard on your sling.

You laughed through the discomfort. “You’re not great at this, huh?”

“Hey! I’m doing my best here,” he protested, but there was no real frustration in his voice. He was patient with you, and that was what mattered.

Once you were dressed, he stepped back to admire his work.

“Not bad, huh?” he said, a proud smile on his face.

“Not bad at all,” you agreed, and he leaned down to kiss you softly.

-

By the end of the week, you were starting to feel a little more like yourself, but the pain in your arm was still a constant reminder of your injury. Lando, ever the attentive boyfriend, noticed when you were getting frustrated or tired, and he was always there to offer comfort.

That evening, you were lying on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, when Lando plopped down beside you. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, careful of your injured arm, and snuggled up close.

“You doing okay?” he asked, his voice soft in your ear.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Just... tired of this.”

“I know,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But you’re doing great. And I’m here, okay? For as long as you need me.”

You smiled, leaning into him. His warmth, his presence—it was everything you needed. You didn’t have to ask for his help; he just gave it freely, without hesitation.

As you lay there together, his fingers absentmindedly drawing circles on your back, you realized how lucky you were. Not just because he was helping you through this injury, but because he was Lando. The man who loved you unconditionally, who saw you at your weakest and still made you feel strong.

“Love you,” you whispered, closing your eyes.

“Love you more,” he replied softly, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

And in that moment, broken arm and all, you felt more loved than ever.

-

As your arm started to heal, you began to regain some independence, but that didn’t stop Lando from taking every opportunity to tease you. He seemed to enjoy his new role as caretaker a little too much, and he never missed a chance to flirt.

One afternoon, you were sitting at the kitchen table, trying to cut up some fruit with your good hand. Lando walked in, immediately taking the knife from you.

“Let me help,” he said, leaning in close.

“I can do it,” you protested, though you didn’t exactly mind when he was this close to you.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, but I do it better, don’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at your lips. He knew exactly how to get under your skin, but in the best way.

As he cut up the fruit, he stole glances at you, his smile never fading. “You know,” he said casually, “taking care of you has been... kind of fun.”

“Oh, has it now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he said, sliding a piece of fruit toward you. “I mean, I get to spend all this extra time with you, take care of you, shower with you...”

“Lando!” you laughed, swatting at him with your good hand.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you. “I’m just saying, maybe I should be your personal nurse more often.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, but your heart swelled with love for him.

“I know,” he replied, his voice soft as he looked into your eyes. “But you love me for it.”

And he was right.

౨ৎ

*:･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! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

[exopelagic]

i will not panic abt my exams