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

[bird-inacage]

The Heart Killers EP6-EP7: "You think I'd go on living if you died?"

I'm sure everyone is still wiping away the snot from their face thanks to Episode 6's brutal ending. I want to talk about how next week's preview shows we're leading into the best invitation for reconciliation as far as Bison and Kant are concerned. Let me explain.

In the wake of Bison being confronted with the awful truth, he will likely assume (in the immediate instance) that everything - every single thing Kant has said and done was a total lie - a strategically crafted fabrication to get him hooked, including Kant's feelings. That Kant never loved him at all, it was all an act. We as an audience know that's not true but Bison doesn't.

With Bison getting shot next episode, this forces Kant to drop his mask in the most revealing way possible. In the face of losing Bison, this becomes the catalyst for Kant turning the tables, and proves twofold:

Kant's panic over Bison possibly dying indicates he genuinely cares about him. His entire demeanour during this incident will be under the eyes of everyone present including Fadel and Style. If there was any doubt about Kant's feelings, there won't be now.

Kant can no longer lie to himself. He can't live without Bison (by his own later admission). Throughout EP6, Kant's been trying to assure Style he will move on once this whole situation has blown over, but Kant's simply telling his best friend what he wished he could convince himself of. He tries to believe that he can give up Bison and be okay, that it will all be worth it if it means protecting Babe. But deep down he knows he won't be. This confirms it.

So firstly, Bison will witness just how much Kant cares about him. It doesn't deny the fact that Kant lied to him, but the truth is Kant has also undoubtedly fallen in love with him. The man sits by Bison's bedside sobbing and inconsolable, and I anticipate Kant may well confess why he did what he did whilst Bison is 'unconscious', who may recall some or all of what he says when he wakes.

Secondly, Kant will decide that he can no longer put Bison in any kind of jeopardy and that means: 'fuck the mission'. He's going to have to turn on Chris, and aid Bison and Fadel to escape the pursuit from the police that he helped them gain progress with. Chris already suspects that Kant has fallen for Bison which makes him a huge liability. Sealed by either by his own active choices to defy the police, or in Chris' eyes, Kant has effectively chosen to put a huge target on his back. By extension Babe is no longer safe either.

In the preview, we also see Bison disappear from the hospital, just as Chris plans to apprehend him. It's likely that the next time they meet, Bison has been in hiding (probably watching Kant from the shadows) before he intervenes to help. It could be that Kant is being hunted down by the cops or Mother. For Bison to do this shows he's already on the road towards forgiveness, having observed Kant and processed what he now knows. It's far more complicated than he first assumed, and he's willing to hear Kant out. They're ready to start the path to reconciliation and face what's to come together.

On a final note, I've been speculating who may be the ones leading the attack at the bowling alley. The obvious guess would be the police. But for some reason, I have a wild feeling it could be Keen. (I remember Pepper being on set when these four were filming for this scene). It's possible for example that Mother finds out it's Kant and Style who are the informants and Keen tries to score some brownie points by taking them out. In the heat of the moment, Bison protects Kant on instinct and gets shot. Now that would make this all the more heart-wrenching wouldn't it?

You can keep tabs on bird-inacage’s BL meta directory for my other long-form posts around The Heart Killers, which I’ll be updating in real time as the show airs.

[earthlyangelbby]

Truth or Dare

Part 1

4.7k words

CW: lots of flirting/tension, college!Eddie, roomate!Eddie, kissing, fingering, orgasming, premature orgasm, tickling

Summary: After being treated to pizza, wine coolers, and The Princess Bride by Eddie as an attempt to cheer you up after your breakup. You boldly ask to play truth or dare. Silly dares turn into more intense encounters as Eddie and you explore what all the tension is about.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his signature grin flickering to life at your mischievous tone. “This is your night, sweetheart. What rules are we playing with?”

You tilted your head, a spark of confidence lighting up your expression. “Truth or dare. But—” you paused, smirking, “Nothing illegal, and we each get one skip.”

Eddie leaned back against the headboard, taking a swig of his wine cooler like he was settling in for the main event. “Alright, but don’t blame me when you regret making this deal.”

You rolled your eyes, already feeling lighter from the night’s laughter. “You’re stalling. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he answered immediately, the challenge clear in his tone.

You leaned forward, considering him for a moment. “Okay, I dare you to... do your best impression of Westley’s ‘As You Wish’ without sounding like an idiot.”

Eddie sat up dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “I've so got this.” He cleared his throat, adopting an exaggerated posh accent. “As... you... wish,” he said, drawing out each word like he was auditioning for a soap opera.

You burst out laughing, clutching your sides. “Oh my God, that was terrible! Westley would be horrified.”

Eddie grinned, unbothered. “You didn’t say it had to be good. Alright, your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you said, settling back into your pillow.

He tapped his chin, clearly debating. “Alright. Be honest when was the exact moment you realized you were too good for Brian?”

Your smile faded briefly, but it wasn’t pain that lingered—it was relief. “Probably when he started canceling plans to meet halfway without a real excuse,” you admitted. “I think I was just holding on to the idea of what we used to be, not what we were.”

Eddie nodded, his gaze steady. “Good answer. And hey, for what it’s worth, he was never on your level anyway.”

“Flattery won’t save you from my next dare,” you shot back, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he said without hesitation.

You grinned. “I dare you to serenade me with the cheesiest love song you can think of. Right now.”

Eddie groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You’re evil, you know that?”

“You asked for this!” you teased, pulling a pillow into your lap.

After a moment of thought, Eddie sat up, cleared his throat, and launched into an off-key rendition of I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston, complete with exaggerated hand gestures and dramatic flourishes. His voice cracked on the high notes, and you were doubled over laughing before he even hit the chorus.

“You’re insane,” you managed between giggles.

“And yet,” he said, flopping back onto the bed, “you’re loving every second of it.”

“Fine, maybe I am,” you admitted, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “Okay, your turn.”

“Truth or dare?” he asked, smirking.

“Dare,” you challenged, sitting up straighter.

“Alright, this one is a challenge. Time for the happy dance!” He bolts up.

“You’re so on!” You both get up and do the silliest dances you can think of. Sticking your tongues out, twisting your hips, and doing peace signs, you dance until you both get a little tired. Eddie grabs you, pulling you close and into a sway-like dance. He’s panting from laughing and dancing. “You so win princess buttercup.” He says with a wink and a grin.

“Oh, dread pirate Roberts, thank you for saving me from being so sad with your excellent dance skills!” you snort a real genuine laugh, throwing your head back. He spins you around and bows. He had a way of making everything fun. Both of you make your way back to your bed. You smile, sighing out a breath. “Arg, truth or dare, dread pirate?”

Eddie balances himself on his hands and shakes his hair back before looking at you. “Let’s do a truth this time, buttercup.”

“Have you ever been in love before?” you looked at him so intently searching for the feeling on his face.

Eddie looked off to the side blinking a few times before meeting your gaze. “Yeah. Or at least I think I was. There was a girl who I had an amazing summer with, but she wasn’t from Hawkings, and she went back home. She wanted me to follow her, but I couldn't because too much shit was going on and I didn’t have the money, so we fought over the phone, and that was that.” Eddie sat up crisscrossed in front of you.

Your expression softened, and you touched his hands. “I had no idea, Eddie. I’m so sorry.”

A smile tugged the corner of his lips and he turned his hand over to cup yours. “Sweetheart, that happened years ago. I don't dwell on it anymore. Now truth or dare?”

Your thumb rubbed against his hand absently. “I think I’ll go dare this time Eddie.”

“I dare you to tell me something that you have never told anyone else before.”

Your cheeks tingle in embarrassment. “Okay, but you have to close your eyes, and I’ll whisper it to you.”

A wide grin formed on his face and his eyes lit up. “Oh sweetheart this must be good. I’ll close my eyes I promise.” his eyes squeezed shut.

You shuffled on your knees, leaned over to his ear, and whispered, “While I was at summer camp when I was 15, I wrote these ridiculous, sexy love confessions to my counselor and left them in his bunk secretly. I know they were found because word spreads fast at summer camp. The girl counselors swore it was this one girl counselor and then she was fired because it was so inappropriate. I was so mortified that all the counselors and the camp owner read it. I couldn’t admit to it and you’re the only person besides me that knows the truth.” You leaned back sitting in front of him.

Eddie's mouth is hung open, and their eyes are wide, “Oh my god, your horniness got someone fired. Sweetheart that’s crazy! I have to know what it said.”

“No way Eddie! I can’t say that right now!” you pushed at him. “Now your turn. Truth or dare Munson?”

His eyes narrowed, and he leaned in close to your face. “Dare me.”

You smirked, feeling bold. “Alright, Eddie. I dare you to put on my red shorts and walk out wearing just that. They’re in the top right of my closet.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, then narrowed with playful defiance. “Your shorts? The ones that are basically a crime against fabric?”

“That’s the dare. Take it or skip it. You get one skip.” you challenged, crossing your arms.

“As you wish sweetheart,” he said, sauntering toward your closet, “you have no idea what you just started.” he huffed.

He disappeared behind the door, and you could hear the rustling of fabric, followed by a few exaggerated grunts and muttered curses. “These are tiny! I feel like I’m in a speedo!” he yelled.

Eddie emerged from the closet wearing your red running shorts, and the sight nearly knocked you off the bed. You'd seen him shirtless but now you're really looking. His body is covered in tattoos. The shorts were comically tight, the hem barely reaching the tops of his thighs, and the bold color made the entire situation even more absurd. He strutted out like he was on a catwalk, hands on his hips and a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

“Is it all you ever imagined?” " he quipped, twirling for effect.

Your eyes go immediately to his bulge, clutching a pillow to your chest as you try to seem like you aren't staring. You attempt to cover your intrigue with a giggle. “Wow. I mean, Oh my God, Eddie. You look like a camp counselor!” you teased.

“Yeah I heard you like those.” he teased back.

Your heart was pounding a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “I was just saying since those are mine from camp. I was a counselor for a couple of summers.” You stammered around it but seeing him like this made you flustered.

But you can’t help it; you eye him up and down, covering the bottom half of your face with your pillow. That would make him not notice you noticing him right?

Eddie smirked, clearly loving the attention. “Alright, you’ve had your fun. Now it’s your turn.” His grin turned wicked. “I dare you to put on that red lace lingerie in your closet and keep it on for the game.”

Instantly your smile faded, replaced by a stunned look. “What? No way.”

“Fair’s fair, sweetheart. I mean you can always pass,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “You dared me into these bad boys,” he gestured at the shorts, “and I’m keeping them on. So you have to do the same.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, standing and grabbing the hanger from the closet. “You better not laugh.”

“Scout’s honor,” he said, holding up three fingers. But the mischievous glint in his eyes suggested otherwise.

A few minutes later, you stepped out in the red lace lingerie, your arms instinctively wrapping around yourself. The set was elegant but undeniably sexy, with all delicate straps and sheer panels. It hugged you in your hips and under your bust. You felt completely exposed but were determined not to let Eddie see you squirm.

His reaction was immediate. The smug grin on his face faded, replaced by wide eyes and a rare moment of silence. He blinked, his gaze flickering between your face and the lingerie. “Woah,” he finally muttered, his voice lower than before. “You look… a-amazing.”

Your cheeks burned, but you rolled your eyes to hide your nerves. “You’re just saying that because you dared me, Eds.”

“No, not even close,” he said, his grin slowly returning. “But I think I won.”

You sat back down on the bed, crossing your legs and pretending like this was totally normal. “Alright, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Eddie said immediately, still grinning.

You tilted your head, thinking. “I dare you to go outside and do a lap around the house in those shorts.”

He laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “Nice try, but you’re not getting rid of me that easily. Pass.”

“Coward,” you teased.

“Call it what you want,” he said with a shrug. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you said, keeping your arms crossed tightly over your chest.

He tapped his chin, clearly savoring the moment. “Why’d you agree to wear that? Was it just to win the dare, or… something else?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. The room felt warmer all of a sudden, the air heavier. “Maybe… a little bit of both,” you admitted, your voice quieter than you’d intended.

His grin softened into something warmer, his eyes lingering on yours. “Fair enough.”

Wanting the air to find its way back into your lungs, you inhale and sigh out, “Uh alright….truth or dare”? Your voice is higher than you meant.

Eddie pursed his lips and looked around making it seem like he really thought about it.

“Give me a dare.”

“mmmh- uhh, okay I dare you to go through the process of kissing me without act-”

He interrupts with a big grin, “I got ya, sweetheart.”

Eddie slowly leaned in cupping your face and pushing your hair behind your ear, his gaze never leaving yours, his lips just inches from yours. You could feel the heat from his breath hitting your lips. Which made them feel tingly.

The room seemed to hold its breath as you felt the heat between you intensify, the playful atmosphere shifting into something else entirely. The way his presence made your heart race a little faster, the moment stretched in anticipation.

“Just so you know, I'm a real good kisser,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath caught in your throat as his lips brushed so lightly against yours, just a ghost of a touch. It was enough to send a shiver down your spine, and suddenly, all the teasing felt real, too real.

For a moment, time seemed to stop. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you couldn’t decide whether to pull away or lean in closer. His eyes were soft now, and there was something in them, a quiet sincerity mixed with that signature teasing streak, but it was enough to make your pulse spike.

You both stayed there, close enough to feel the heat, but just out of reach. "Eddie..." you whispered, your voice shaking just a little.

He smiled, a little too knowingly, and pulled back and kissed your forehead, his gaze soft but still playful. "Your turn, sweetheart," he said, voice almost too smooth, leaving you breathless and your heart still pounding in your chest.

The air between you was different now, charged with a deeper tension. “Dare!” it came out fast. Your heart beats out of your chest.

Eddie clapped his hands together with a devilish grin, his laughter filling the room. "Here's the dare," he said, his voice low and teasing. "Let me trace my fingers wherever I want, and you have to stay still. I'll stop the moment you say you can't handle it anymore. Sound fair?"

Your eyebrows shot up, heat rushing to your cheeks. "W-wherever you want?" you stammered, your voice faltering under the weight of his gaze. “That's... a bit much, don't you think?"

He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. "Only if you overthink it," he said with a wink. "What's the matter? Scared you can't handle a little tickling?"

You huffed out a breath, pushing down the nervous flutter in your chest. Feeling emboldened, you crossed your arms. "I'm not scared of being tickled, Eddie. Do your worst."

His grin widened, his brown eyes glinting with mischief. He leaned forward, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with the gentlest touch.

"Good," he murmured. "Just lay back for me. Close your eyes and trust me."

You lay back hesitantly, but his steady presence made you feel safer than you'd expected. When his fingers glide lightly over your collarbones, an involuntary shiver rippled through you. The sensation was electric, subtle, and far more intense than you'd

anticipated.

"Reacting already?” Eddie said, his voice low and amused.

You twitched slightly, unable to suppress your body's reaction, but you bit back a reply. His fingers moved deliberately, trailing up the sides of your neck and across your shoulders. The touch was maddeningly light, and every nerve seemed to awaken under his hands.

"You're holding up better than I thought," he mused, his tone a mixture of teasing and admiration. "But how much more can you take this? Getting to be too much, sweetheart?"

You scoffed, tilting your chin defiantly. "I can handle it," you said, though your voice betrayed the slightest tremor. His grin turned almost predatory as his fingers drifted down your arms, tracing the delicate lines of your wrist and elbow. The strokes were slow and deliberate, lulling and igniting you at the same time. When your eyes fluttered open, you caught him watching you, his expression softer but still filled with an intense focus. "Most people would've given up by now,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I think you actually like it."

Your throat tightened, and you

swallowed hard, your words catching in your throat. "You're not... done yet, are you?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he shifted closer, lying on his side as his hand rested lightly on your ribs. "Not if you don't want me to be," he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of challenge.

The words left your lips before you could stop them. "I don't want you to stop," you admitted, your gaze locking with his. "I dare you to keep going."

"As you wish sweetheart," Eddie murmured, his grin deepening. His fingers continued their exploration, tracing down your ribs to your stomach. The touches were light, deliberate, and agonizingly slow, stopping just above the waistband of your panties before gliding back up. A soft moan escaped you, unbidden, and your body reacted instinctively, your breath hitching as your nipples hardened against the fabric of your bra. "I knew you liked it," he teased, his voice laced with triumph.

His fingers traveled lower, ghosting along the curve of your hips, down your thighs, and slowly inwards. The teasing lightness of his touch made your body jerk involuntarily, the tension building with every motion. His fingers brushed faintly over your mound, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips, and he stilled for a moment, his gaze meeting yours again.

"I don't want to rush this," he said, his voice husky and filled with want. "I'm going to kiss you now. Is that okay?"

Your heart raced as you nodded, your voice coming out in a desperate whisper. "Please."

He leaned in, studying your face as if committing every detail to memory. His hand cupped your jaw, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin as he closed the gap between you. Eddie’s lips brushed against yours, his kiss soft but deliberate, testing your response. His hand moved slowly, tracing the curve of your waist, and the sensation sent a shiver through you. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours as his dark eyes searched your face.

He is a good kisser.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice steady but hinting with something vulnerable, like he needed to hear your answer.

You nodded, your breath catching as his thumb brushed a slow circle against your hip. “I’m fine,” you murmured, though your voice wavered slightly. “Better than fine.”

His grin returned, small but genuine, and his hand resumed its gentle exploration

His lips met yours in a kiss that was wild and unrestrained, a sharp contrast to the gentleness of his touch earlier. The taste of him-faintly sweet from the wine coolers with a lingering hint of smoke-flooded your senses. His tongue brushed against yours, and you welcomed it, your breaths mingling as the kiss deepened. His other hand continued its slow exploration, tracing along the seam of your panties and then up your abdomen, skimming the edge of your bra. You break the kiss for a moment, voice sultry "Are you trying to drive me crazy?" you tease, your eyes dancing with mischief. He smirks, the corner of his mouth curving upward, his breath warm against your skin.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he replies, that same playful glint in his eyes. You can feel the heat radiating between you, igniting a fire that is impossible to ignore.

He leans in again, capturing your lips with his, the kiss pulling you deeper into the moment. Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling as you pull him closer, wanting to lose yourself in him entirely.

Slowly, he pulls back, his gaze searching yours, a mix of desire and tenderness shining through. "Tell me what you want," he murmurs, his voice low and inviting. You can feel your heart racing, anticipation and excitement swirling within you as you consider how to respond.

“I want you Eddie,” you whisper. His eyes widen slightly at your boldness and he grins down at you.

He laughs not at you directly but at how suddenly shy you have gotten. “I want you too. I really do. Just tell me if you want to stop at any point. Alright, sweetheart?”

You nod up at him looking into his eyes. “Mmhmm.” Your heart raced. His words, “I want to feel everything, Eddie.” You brushed your fingers against his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingertips. “I want to feel you.”

Eddie‘s expression shifted, the teasing glint in his 5 fingers are now more firm, rubbing circles at your opening through the fabric. “Tell me what you want or I’ll stop,” he murmured

“Take them off. I wanna feel you!” you cried out. He grabbed the hem on each side and pulled them off of you much less gently than with your bra. Returning his fingers to your slit and finding your sensitive clit. With his other hand working at your opening. He pushed two fingers into you. It felt so good to finally have his hands on you like this. He worked his fingers nice and slow while his other hand focused on your clit. Your body reacted with little jerks.

“Like that? Is that what you wanted? Is that what you like?” he grunted out.

You breathed out little whimpers and moans, trying to find words to say back to him, and finally, you stuttered out. “Yes! Just like that” you arched and tightened.

“God you're so tight around my fingers”

He curled his fingers inside you and found the spot. He pressed into it and rubbed circles on your clit. The static inside you was growing even more. “I like the way your body jerks under my touch.” Eddie leaned down in between your legs and started licking swipes on your clit. His fingers pumped into you slow and deep. The static is all-consuming in your body. You can feel it even down in your toes.

“You’re so good” is all you can say.

Eddie's pace quickened at your words, his fingers moving in perfect rhythm with the static building in you. He looked up for a moment, locking eyes with you as if he wanted to drink in every detail of your pleasure. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin, the vibration sending another shiver down your spine. “Let it go.”

Your body was already responding, the pressure coiling tighter within you as you held onto the sheets. “Let it happen,” he encouraged, his eyes dark and full of desire as he worked you through your climax. You cried out, the sound of your voice mixing with his groans of appreciation as your body seized and tightened around his fingers. Stars exploded behind your eyelids, and the world around you melted away.

As Eddie continued to work his fingers inside you, the warmth and wetness enveloped him. It sparked something deep within him it was a mix of desire and pleasure that was almost overwhelming. Your body responded to his every movement, tightening around his fingers as the waves of your high pulsed, and it ignited a fire inside him that he hadn’t anticipated. “Eddie! Feels so good Eddieee. You're so good! Please don’t stop” you begged.

“Oh, God,” he breathed, his voice strained with effort. “You’re so—so tight.” The way you surrendered to pleasure was intoxicating, and the sight of your bliss brought him dangerously close to the edge of his control.

When your body began to tremble and your breath hitched, Eddie felt the pressure coiling within him, nearly overwhelming as your walls clenched around his fingers. “Please. Please, don’t stop,” you gasped, driving him wild with need.

“I won't,” he gasped out, his heart racing. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your skin, savoring every second of this moment as his fingers continued finally finding the perfect rhythm. But the combination of your moans and the way you tightened around him was becoming too much.

“I’m cumming! Oh god! Eddie I’m-“ you broke off into moans grinding back down onto his fingers, he felt it…the wave of pleasure crashing over you, and in the tide of your release, he lost control too.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie gasped, his own body responding involuntarily. A pulse of heat shot through him, and he felt himself teetering dangerously close to the edge. He was still seated between your legs, his fingers buried deep inside you, and the sensations were so intense that he couldn’t hold back. Without warning, he found himself succumbing as waves of pleasure washed over him too.

His fingers stilled inside you, but the sensation of your body still clenching around him sent shockwaves of pleasure cascading through him. “Oh, damn it!” he exclaimed, the pleasure mingling with surprise as he felt himself spill over, his body trembling from the intensity of it all.

You opened your eyes wide, your high fading momentarily as Eddie’s reaction hit you. “Eddie?!”

He cursed under his breath, his cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and lingering bliss. “I—I didn’t mean to! You just felt so good, and…”

“Did seeing me really make you?” You cut him off, intrigued.

He met your eyes with a soft smile, “Honestly? Yeah,” Eddie said, voice low and sincere. “Seeing you like that, feeling you, hearing you… it was something else.”

“I- just haven't ever really felt like I was sexy like that. Like the type of sexy to make a guy cum without touching him. That’s like reserved for ultra ethereal beauties.” Your cheeks burned.

Eddie leans in slightly, “Well, maybe I think you’re an ultra ethereal beauty.”

You chuckled, the warmth of his compliment mixing with your lingering embarrassment. “I honestly didn't expect any of this but I'm glad it happened”

Eddie ran a hand through his hair, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Believe me, I definitely didn’t expect this to happen. I mean, I’ve been trying not to trip over my words around you for months, and here I am, making a spectacle of myself.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his candidness. “At least I wasn’t the only one surprised then. It’s kind of funny, honestly. We’ve been roommates for a year, and I didn’t think we’d ever cross this line.”

He leaned back, slightly bashful, and you could see that familiar pink hue still lingering on his cheeks. “Yeah, but seriously, that was… wow. I didn’t know just looking at you could do that. There’s definitely something about you.”

With a teasing roll of your eyes, you nudged him playfully. “Well, I guess all those times I walked around in my pajamas and you casually told me I looked nice. I guess that wasn’t just roommate kindness, huh?”

Eddie laughed, shaking his head. “Okay, you caught me. I might have had more than a few moments where I thought, ‘Wow, my roommate is hot.’ But I didn’t want to make things weird. I mean you had a boyfriend.”

Your heart fluttered at his admission. “Wait, so you actually think I’m cute?”

“Cute? You’re more than cute. You’re absolutely captivating,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “And honestly, after tonight, I kind of want to see where this goes beyond just being roommates.”

Your heart raced at his words, and you sensed the tension between you shifting into something softer yet full of potential. “You really mean that?”

“Yeah, I do,” he confessed, his gaze steady on yours. “I’d love to take you out on a proper date. We can still have all the fun we just had, trust me I had lots of fun. I learned a lot about you. But I wanna know more.”

You felt a rush of warmth inside, excitement bubbling as you processed his offer. “That sounds… amazing. I’d really like that.”

Eddie smiled back, relief evident on his face. “Good. Because I’m still kind of embarrassed about everything, but I’m really happy it happened.”

“Same,” you admitted, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “I didn’t think I could feel that way, let alone with you, of all people.”

“Yeah? It feels kind of unreal, doesn’t it?” He laughed softly, the tension easing as you both began to gather your clothes. “But I’m glad it happened. Just… wow.”

As you both started to clean up, playful banter filled the air between you, your laughter echoing around the room while you both recounted some of the sillier dares and the ones that shook you to your cores. Once you finished freshening up and were back in cozy pajamas.

Eddie grabbed at your hand pulling you into his room and you followed without question. “Since we kinda messed up all of your sheets, do you wanna sleep in my room with me? We can plan that date out before we fall asleep,” Eddie looked down at you sweetly.

Your heart felt fuzzy. “I'd love too Eddie”

You both slipped under the blankets. Eddie laid on his back and lifted his arm up inviting you to cuddle. You shuffled over to him and laid your head on his chest. As he ran his fingers through your hair he whispered

“I thought about our date and I want to take you to the Planetarium?” His heart beating out of his chest.

“That sounds perfect Eddie” you could hear his heart steady. “Goodnight”

“Goodnight buttercup,” Eddie murmured.

Tag list: @avalon-wolf

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi Ravennn~ I’ve been a follower for a p long time and one of my fave parts of your blog is just reading about your twst fangirl crashouts (complimentary) (the Leona rot tag is too funny)! However, I have noticed that Rook, one of your previous twst oshis, has slowly fallen out of favor over time. I’m just curious about what happened?

[For your reference, here is my updated personal al tier list; the "Leona rot tag" is here.]

Hello, hello, and thank you for sticking with me for so long TTwTT wdym I don't have Twst fangirl crashouts... I DON'T ROT OVER LION, DON'T BELIEVE THE PROPOGANDA--

For comparison, my last Rook Hunt thirst post was made in late April 2024 whereas my last NOT L*ONA ROT post was made... literally yesterday 💀 As you can see... major discrepancy. The two characters had the same number of posts under similar tags mid-October 2024... But now, in December 2024... L*ona has 160 posts, which is 46 more than Rook's 114. And it has been 73 days since the boys were neck-and-neck, meaning I averaged 1.7 (almost TWO entire posts OTL) NOT L*ONA ROTs per day 🤡

I genuinely feel so bad for Rook because him falling lower in my personal tier list has nothing to do with him and everything to do with what the characters AROUND him did. Both Sebek and L*ona got tons of new, juicy content for me to dissect and appreciate between the book 7 updates and Lost in the Book with Nightmare Before Christmas. Like, have you SEEN the number of analyses I pumped out for just those two alone the past few months?? At least 6, maybe nearing 10. It's insane. They just blitzed by the poor huntsman and shot up, knocking him down in the rung in the process. All Rook got was that crumb that was his own dream + maaaybe a bit of Vil's (that part where he played announcer was silly, but I didn't get anything else from him) OTL

On the bright side, I think Rook would be a good sport about it! He'd cheer on Sebek and L*ona to do their very best, even if it comes at the cost of him taking a lower place.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

+ CHAPTER SIX // GROUPIES 

series mlist 

Tags — alcohol, Toge highkey jumpscares yn like he’s from fnaf, “he’s right behind me isn’t he… 😟” type moment, that’s all I think?? Words — 1.0k 

It took you a moment to realize what was going on. The lighting in the rustic, shabby bar was dim, just barely casting a glow over the sharp edges of the many faces before you. Nobody should’ve expected you to be paying attention to that, your only duty was to keep your voice melodic and make sure you didn’t trip on the chord of the microphone. You failed to notice the odd glances shared by the instrument players behind you, as well as the eyes wide as saucers staring at you from the farthest wall. 

Only when the set was over and you finally got a chance to breathe—or so you thought—did you get an inkling of awareness. You were leant against the battered wood of the bar, the material oddly cool compared to your flushed skin as you waited for your drink. Nobara was beside you, mindlessly chattering away about the rip in her favourite skirt or the way a guy in her class was looking at her, but then her expression changed. She glanced anxiously behind you, making motions with her head that were meant to be some sort of signal but ended up making her look like some sort of challenged bird. 

“Y/n,” she gritted, eyes narrowing. “Be…hind… you…” 

Your head turned, but you didn’t even get a glimpse of him before he spoke. His voice was teasing, but it cut through the background noise like a gunshot in the midst of a quiet night. “So this is why you couldn’t go out with me?” 

Nobara’s eyes widened, but there was a knowing gleam in them that told you she had this all figured out. She might’ve seemed dull, a hot-headed, fashion obsessed girl concerned with nothing much, but there were more layers to her than her well-coordinated outfits. “I’ll leave you to it,” she smirked. She swiped her drink from the counter, and then all that was left of her was spilled droplets of her overly fruity beverage. 

You turned, meeting his eye. Your hip pressed into the wood, casual and inviting as you smiled. “If I denied that, would you believe me?” 

He shook his head, a huff of amusement leaving him. In the low lights, his hair reflected a soft gold, his skin looking smooth and ivory. He looked… good. Really good. You barely knew him, yet it was taking everything in you not to reach out, to run your hands over the sharp ridges of his face, stare into the soft, purple eyes that looked at you now. You’d never taken much interest in boys, never giggled and gossiped with the other girls at sleepovers while you painted your nails and braided each other’s hair. Toge seemed to flip that 180°, to give you that giddy feeling in your stomach that you’d grown to know as butterflies, but never felt personally. Not until now, at least. 

He leaned forward just a small bit, almost unnoticeable, almost involuntary. His face didn’t show it, but he could feel his heart pulsing in his ears. “You know, I figured this—” he motioned to the stage, microphone sitting prettily where you’d been standing just minutes before.  “—would be something worth mentioning. An ice breaker, maybe?” 

Your chest rose and fell with a quiet chuckle, one that couldn’t be heard beneath the clinking of glasses and drunken chatter. “But then I’d lose my mysterious allure, wouldn’t I?” 

“No offence, but I’m pretty sure stuttering over text cancels that out,” he shot back. His lips curled up into a grin, wide and genuine. You two seemed to be on the same frequency, something new and refreshing and undeniably enticing, growing with every retort. You laughed, and he felt his smile grow until it hurt his cheeks. “I can’t say I’m any better, though,” he admitted, leaning an elbow on the corner of the bar. 

“I know.” 

His brows knitted together in playful offence. “Hey! You’re not supposed to agree.” 

“You want me to lie?” 

“You lied about being a literal rockstar, so is a fib to protect my emotions that much of a stretch?” he said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. Your body curled forward with laughter, eyes crinkling and hand reaching to cover your mouth. Maybe it was the alcohol or the breathlessness from singing, but you were pretty sure your head spinning was caused purely by Toge. His energy, the way the air around him seeped into you like it was meant to mingle with you all along—it drew you in like a magnet and sent your senses into orbit. 

He laughed with you, soft and carefree. It might’ve been nothing but a 30 minute break in the show, yes, but the moment seemed infinite to you. Being around him didn’t feel like a collection of moments, it seemed to stretch on, an endless tunnel of golden lights and coffee and smiles that left your face feeling sore. 

Across the room stood your friends, all clumped together and oddly silent. They gazed across at your figures, seeming to glow with the warmth that could only be brought from within. You didn’t know it, but they all knew what was to come, and they were… happy. For you. For him. They didn’t know Toge very well, and you didn’t either, but things felt different when he was around. Your eyes gleamed with just a little more light, something soft and bright and doughy, like how you looked when you came home after a long time away. It was slightly unnerving (in Megumi’s words), sure, but beautiful nonetheless. There was an unspoken sense of acquaintance between the three, shared between glances and the distance between you and them. 

Just then it was only you and Toge and the heavy warmth in your chest, and that was completely okay. 

Cat’s outta the bag ig???

maybe that should’ve been the chapter name

whatever I already had them planned out

Toge is yn’s groupie confirmed

I haven’t mentioned whether maki and Megumi are cousins this time, so view it as you wish

Hitting the halfway mark… this one is a very different dynamic than bttoh I think… Maybe I don’t have this series as much as I like to pretend I do… ig… I’ve been so chopped lately someone kill me. AND the Moodboard I posted flopped really bad do yall hate me be honest

Taglist — 50/50

@anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @adoresia @auroratumbles @sh0ot1ngst4r @soobin1437 @mystic-megumi @cinnamxnangel @lizbix @s3ns4ti0n4l @anonnieghost @s4toruz @gumims @bubybubsters @k4ss11333 @rreveurdoll @kaged-kitty @rwura @aldebrana @hqnge @good-mourning0 @daisies-and-domming @vi0let-writes @dazaisfavgf @hearts4aloise @coolgirl458 @keyaea @jealovsie @sirenla @academiq @mammoanlmao @moonchhu @ichcocat @blubearxy @hayl09 @q2uq2u @potteraep @fiannee @lailakys @jxisnwaol @treeguzzler @nanaanatiion @zayuriluvs @kr1nqu @cloudxox @azinniyaa @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @rottingvxmpire @gradmacoco @spkyssn

[arcaneconfessions]

It’s hurtful to see ships I genuinely enjoy get hijacked by homophobic people. They only latch onto the ships I love just to be spiteful and target JayVik shippers, and it completely ruins the vibe. Now those ships just feel tainted with homophobia because the loudest, most obnoxious voices took over. It got so bad that I ended up leaving the ship entirely. I just didn’t want to be associated with something that had been so poisoned by negativity. I know people are like, “Not all of them are homophobic, but—” but nothing! People automatically group you with the homophobic ones just because you ship a ship they had bad homophobic experiences with. So, I still don’t want to be grouped with the ship anymore because it’s tainted with homophobia. Now I’m shipping a crack ship, and it’s honestly the most peaceful I’ve felt. No more homophobic people ruining it just to take shots at others. No, I’m not saying I have it harder than the people who actually face homophobia. I still think it’s perfectly fine to not want to be associated with a ship that got tainted by the wrong crowd, without people assuming that I have it the hardest. Its my personal preference. :)

.

[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.

[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!

[applejarjar]

Son of a bitch

[exopelagic]

i will not panic abt my exams