#and obviously that was a red herring but! I thought!

[artsysurvivor]

[ID: A digital drawing of Carol putting her hand on Kris's shoulder, saying, "*As you know, [in all caps and red] you [/end caps and color] are welcome here any time." Her finger tips are greyed slightly at the ends and they look like claws. She's smirking, and she's leaning over to look Kris directly in their eyes (although they themselves are looking away). A shadow covers her face, making her eyes stand out more. Kris has eyebags under their eyes (though one isn't visible) and they overall look uncomfortable and guilty. The characters themselves are uncolored. The line-art is a clean-ish sketch with a thick dark blue, textured brush and the picture is colored in a cornflower blue. /End ID]

Ooouuuugghghhhh….. :(((((

Also uuugghhh here’s my stupid baka DR playlist that makes me insane and crazy

[cressidagrey]

White Horse - Chapter 32: September 2024 - Part 3

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Isabelle Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen is a World Champion. Isabelle Leclerc is invisible.

She watched her family give up everything for Charles’ career—Arthur’s karting, their father’s savings, even her childhood horse. She understood. She never asked for more.

But Max does. He notices the things no one else does, listens when no one else will, and puts her first in ways she never imagined. With him, she isn’t an afterthought—she’s a choice. And for the first time, she realizes she doesn’t have to be invisible.

Warnings and Notes: 

we have now moved on from Charles bashing to bashing his whole family, Discussions of toxic past relationships, talk about loosing a childhood pet, toxic families, mention of the loss of a parent.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Text Messages: Emilie Abadie & Victoria Verstappen

Emilie: So I’ve decided i’m planning Belle’s baby shower. You in?

Victoria: YES god yes i thought you’d never ask

Emilie: i knew you were my people

Emilie: we are going to destroy her with love

Victoria: as it should be

Emilie:Belle said the nursery will be jungle-themed But like classy jungle. not neon animal prints. think: baby Tarzan but with better lighting

Victoria:So tasteful jungle. Earth tones? Greens? Wood accents?

Emilie: YES. I was thinking “woodland safari” vibes like if Paddington Bear took a gap year in Tanzania

Victoria:I know exactly what you mean

Emilie:We do green and gold

maybe some dried eucalyptus and baby’s breath??

wooden signs?? one that says “A little wild one is on the way” and makes me cry in public???

Victoria: That’s actually adorable. Okay: green, gold, maybe ivory or beige accents. Nothing with leopard print unless it’s ironic.

Emilie:Sent

 also we are getting little elephant sugar cookies

and a cake topper that’s a baby lion wearing a crown

and we’re doing a “write a wish for baby” station or i riot

Victoria: You know Belle’s going to sob, right?

Emilie: that’s the GOAL she deserves the most beloved jungle baby shower in history

Victoria:No jungle noises sound machine. I draw the line at simulated monkey shrieks.

Emilie: coward.

Victoria: Okay, next item: guest list. How big are we going?

Emilie: Small enough to keep it personal. Big enough to make Belle cry at the sheer volume of love.

Victoria: So like… emotionally intimate but logistically bold.

Emilie: Exactly. Also: I vote no gender rules. Men are absolutely allowed. Max is not escaping this with a handshake and a gift bag.

Victoria: Agreed. If she carried the baby, he can carry a platter of mini quiches.

Emilie: Yes. It’s 2025. Equal opportunity baby shower sobbing.

Guest List: First of all, Belle and Max. Obviously. 

Victoria: Obviously. Me, you.

Emilie: Oscar’s Lily? She will cry and also judge the dessert table with me.

Victoria: Oscar too. 

Emilie: oh definitely he and Belle have a weird soft sibling vibe.  Also he’ll bring snacks and quiet competence. I’m counting on him to make Lando behave.

Victoria: Speaking of: Lando?

Emilie: I don’t care if he pretends to be cool and unfazed. He’s coming and he’s writing a wish for the baby. But he must be emotionally supervised.

Victoria: GP + wife?

Emilie: 

He brings emotional calm. And probably good wine. But he has to promise not to bring team merch as a gift. This is not a Red Bull onboarding event.

Victoria: So… the Leclercs?

Emilie:

😬

Emilie:

I’ll message Alexandra and Charlotte and say they’re absolutely welcome—if they can keep their boyfriends leashed and emotionally housebroken for the duration of the event. 

Arthur is easy. He’s scared of me. 

Victoria: Reasonable.

Emilie: If Charles tries to do a grand gesture apology in the middle of Belle unwrapping a swaddle set, I will throw him into the dessert table.

Next name on the landmine list: Pascale.

Victoria: 

Easy. I’ll just have my mom deal with her. She’ll smile, say something cutting, and suddenly Pascale will be quietly eating a macaron in the corner reflecting on her parenting choices.

Alternatively:  And we’ll simply seat my dad near her.

Jos won’t say much. He’ll just… exist.

Stoic. Imposing. 

Any Leclerc who tries to stir up drama will get one look and remember their mortality.

Emilie: Jos Verstappen as emotional bouncer. I want that printed on a T-shirt.

Victoria: Exactly. You want passive-aggressive guilt spirals? Not with Jos around. He has no time for emotional mess unless it involves lap times or tire degradation.

Emilie: He’ll stand there like a wall of paternal disapproval and every problematic relative will instinctively behave.

Victoria: Perfect. Now back to the important question: Do we get little wooden animals as name cards or is that too cute?

Emilie: I’m literally crying. She’s going to feel so loved.

Victoria: That’s the point. This is her village. And it’s feral, organized, and absolutely ready.

Victoria: I’ll draft the invites. Do we want them printed or digital?

Emilie: Printed. On seeded paper. That turns into wildflowers. Because I’m an emotional menace and Belle will cry.

Victoria: You’re unwell and I love it. Okay, I’ll message the stationery girl I used for a friend’s baby shower. Prepare to be impressed.

***

Text Messages: Emilie Abadie, Alexandra Saint Mleux & Charlotte Di Pietro

Emilie:

Ladies 💚

so: I’m planning belle’s baby shower

You’re both invited

But

If you want to bring your boyfriends, please keep them on emotional leashes

Charlotte: Oh my god

Alexandra: Understood short leash or retractable?

Emilie:

I don’t want belle opening tiny socks while Lorenzo gazes into the distance like he just read a tragic poem, Charles makes it all about himself and if Arthur even thinks about giving an unsolicited speech, i swear—

Charlotte:

we’ll drug arthur with complimentary cupcakes

Alexandra:

I’ll sit next to him and kick him under the table if he starts twitching

Emilie:

Thank you. you’re doing the lord’s work.

Charlotte:

Where is the shower, btw?

Emilie:

Scouting locations

But probably… the restaurant where she and max had their first date

And also had their wedding reception 

Charlotte:

NO

Alexandra:

wait

ACTUALLY?

Emilie:

Iconic, right??

She won’t expect it

It’s sentimental, it’s beautiful, and Max won’t get lost trying to park

Charlotte:

You’re such a menace

I love it

Emilie:

Thank you

Now go warn your men.

This is not the time for family therapy. this is the time for jungle plushies and emotional overwhelm.

Alexandra:

Copy that.

I’ll handle charles.

May god help us all.

Charlotte:

I’ll handle Lorenzo. 

Arthur will be given a cupcake and a babysitter.

I’ve got this.

Emilie:

You two are the real MVPs

***

Text Messages: Emilie Abadie & Lily Zneimer

Emilie:

tell your boyfriend he’s babysitting Lando at Belle’s baby shower

Lily:

Excuse me???

Babysit Lando yourself.

He’s your boyfriend, Emilie.

Emilie:

He’s not my boyfriend. 

I’m on belle-duty

Full emotional concierge service. I don’t have time to stop Lando from stealing baby cookies or making jungle noises

Lily:

Honestly fair

But Oscar’s not a zookeeper

Emilie:

He’s calm. He’s emotionally balanced. He’s got that soothing energy that makes toddlers and unstable drivers relax

Lily:

You make my boyfriend sound like a sentient weighted blanket

Emilie:

am i wrong?

Lily:

No. Which is the annoying part.

Fine. I’ll let him know he’s on Lando-watch.

He’s going to ask if that includes snacks

Emilie:

it absolutely includes snacks.

preferably ones he can throw at Lando if needed

Lily:

God help us all

Let me know if you need any help. I am surprisingly good at calligraphy. 

***

Text Messages: Oscar Piastri & Emilie Abadie

Oscar:

So.

Apparently I’m your boyfriend’s designated babysitter at the baby shower?

Emilie:

Not my boyfriend. But yes. You are Lando’s designated babysitter. 

Level 3 supervision.

You may use snacks and Max glares as reinforcement tools.

Oscar:

Why me

Emilie:

Because he listens to you.

And you’re calm.

And I trust you not to join him if he tries to tape a “future world champion” sign to Belle’s bump.

Oscar:

You’re assuming I won’t be too busy hiding behind a fern.

Emilie:

You have won two Grand Prixs. You can handle one emotional jungle-themed social gathering.

Oscar:

Lando has already texted me a design for baby-sized racing boots. They have wings on them, Emilie

Emilie:

Do NOT let him give those to Max. Max will use them

Oscar:

He also wants to “casually mention” naming the baby after Senna. I told him to stop texting and go hydrate

Emilie: 

You see? This is why you’re perfect for this job

Oscar:

I hate how right you are

Emilie:

You love it. You love being the responsible one. you love keeping all of us feral little gremlins alive

Oscar:

I tolerate it.

Because I love Belle.

And because if Lando breaks something during a baby shower I will never emotionally recover

Emilie:

This entire event is going to be a mascara massacre and we are going to LOVE it.

Oscar:

I’ll bring tissues. And a tranquilizer dart. For Lando, not Belle.

Emilie:

I’m putting you on the spreadsheet as “handler: Norris, L.”

Oscar:

Add hazard pay.

Oscar:

Also, you should maybe tell Lando that he isn’t your “boyfriend” because he sure acts like you are his girlfriend. 

***

The Singapore humidity clung to everything like a second skin. Belle had given up on pretending her hair wasn’t frizzing and was now sitting with her feet up on a second chair, aggressively sipping her iced bubble tea and watching Lando Norris spiral.

“I swear to god,” she muttered, “if he sighs one more time like the ghost of heartbreak past, I’m going to throw this at him.” She held up the tapioca pearls at the bottom of her cup as evidence.

Lily looking far too put-together for how disgustingly warm it was, raised a single brow and followed Belle’s gaze.

“Oh. He’s doing the walk again.”

It was the third time Lando had passed the hospitality tent in the last twenty minutes. No pit stop. No purpose. Just dragging his feet like a heartbroken protagonist in an indie film. Sunglasses on. 

Hoodie in this weather. Hands in pockets. Pout firmly in place.

Belle deadpanned, “This is the emotional equivalent of when he lost that podium.”

“He’s not even trying to hide it,” Lily added, stirring her drink. “Oscar told me he’s been playing Emilie’s old voice notes like he’s crafting a scrapbook of despair.”

Belle just sighed. “He’s been like this since after Baku. He asked Max yesterday if emotional scurvy is a real thing.”

“I—what?”

“Apparently he thinks he’s developing ‘separation-related vitamin deficiencies.’” Belle mimed air quotes, then rolled her eyes. “Max offered him a banana. He said it wasn’t the same.”

Lily cackled. “That’s so dramatic.”

“He stared out at the water this morning like he expected Emilie to emerge from the mist on a gondola,” Belle muttered. “I can’t keep doing this. Max is getting secondhand annoyed.”

“Should we… check on him?”

“No,” Belle said flatly, pulling out her phone. “We’re escalating.”

***

Text Messages: Belle Verstappen & Emilie Abadie

Belle: I’m saying this with love. But your boyfriend is wilting.

Emilie: ??? What are you on about

Belle: Lando. He’s stomping around the paddock like someone took away his favourite toy. Or like he hasn’t been hugged in a week. Which, coincidentally, tracks.

Emilie: It’s been 8 days, actually. Not that I’m counting.

Belle: Well he is. By sulking in the motorhome and making Oscar fetch him snacks like a Victorian child in mourning.

Emilie: I’m— 😭😭😭 Not the Victorian child

Belle: He told Oscar he had a phantom pain in his chest when he saw a girl with blonde hair at breakfast.

Emilie: NO

Belle: Yes. Oscar nearly choked on his toast. Then offered to print you out and tape you to the door of Lando’s driver room.

Emilie: I hate this paddock so much 💀

Belle: Anyway. Come to Singapore. Save us from the sadness. And I want bubble tea.

Emilie: This feels manipulative.

Belle: It is manipulative. I learned from the best. Also I’m hormonal and pregnant and will cry if you say no.

Emilie: You weaponized your unborn child. Wow. I knew you’d be dramatic.

Belle: I prefer theatrical. You in?

Emilie: ...Send me your hotel info. I’ll book the flight.

***

Belle knew exactly what she was doing.

She sipped her mocktail with the air of someone completely innocent, despite the look Max kept shooting her over the rim of his glass. It wasn’t her fault Emilie’s flight had landed early. It also wasn’t her fault that Lando had spent the last week moping around the paddock like a Victorian poet with a tragic case of unrequited love. Honestly, Belle was doing the world a favour.

Max leaned a little closer, voice low and teasing. “You’re very pleased with yourself.”

She smiled, eyes following the familiar silhouette weaving through the crowd just outside the McLaren hospitality. “Maybe.”

Max chuckled. “Should I be worried you’re this good at scheming?”

“You should have been worried ages ago,” she said sweetly.

From across the terrace, Lando appeared — animated, arms waving in some exaggerated retelling of his qualifying lap to Oscar and a few mechanics. His curls were damp with sweat, his cap backwards, his smile wide. But Belle noticed the way it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Not like it used to.

Max caught the shift too, the smile slipping into something softer. “He misses her.”

“I know,” Belle murmured. “So I fixed it.”

Max huffed a laugh. “You really are dangerous.”

“Only when I care.”

Then, like clockwork, the front entrance of the hospitality tent shifted open — and there she was.

Emilie.

Hair pulled back into a low bun, sunglasses perched on her head, wearing a linen jumpsuit that somehow made airport fatigue look chic. She scanned the terrace quickly — eyes darting past engineers and drivers and sponsors — and then landed on them.

Belle gave her the world’s smallest nod.

And Emilie moved.

Belle barely contained her grin as Lando caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, turned—

And froze.

His whole body stiffened. Like seeing a ghost. Or a miracle.

“Holy—” Lando started, voice strangled.

Emilie reached him in a few strides and before he could say anything else, she threw her arms around him.

Belle watched as his whole frame seemed to melt. As if someone had taken the tension and twisted it loose. His arms went around her, one hand cradling the back of her head like he didn’t quite believe she was real.

“Hey, idiot,” Emilie murmured. “You didn’t think I was missing night race dumplings, did you?”

Lando made a sound that could only be described as emotionally overwhelmed baby giraffe. Belle saw Oscar smirk in the background, muttering something to a nearby PR rep that made them both laugh.

Max looked down at Belle, his voice warm. “That was very kind of you.”

Belle rested a hand on her bump, heart full. “They needed a win.”

“And what about you?” he asked, gently nudging her side.

She tilted her head up at him. “I’ve already got mine.”

Max’s smile softened, eyes flicking to her belly, then back. “You’re going to be a terrifying mother.”

Belle grinned. “I can only hope.”

Across the terrace, Lando and Emilie stood wrapped in each other, oblivious to the world. And Belle allowed herself a rare, smug moment of satisfaction.

Mission: Get Lando to Stop Sulking – complete.

***

It was the kind of heat that stuck to your skin like honey. The kind that lingered long after the engines had gone quiet and the fireworks had faded.

Singapore at night always felt like a fever dream. And tonight — with Lando Norris standing on the top step the podium for the third time this season, champagne-soaked and shining under the floodlights — it felt almost mythic.

Belle watched from the edge of the paddock chaos, tucked just behind the barriers near Parc Fermé, her hand resting on the curve of her belly. Max had pulled off a brilliant second place — not a win, not what he always wanted, but tonight it hadn’t mattered. Because Lando had driven like a man possessed. Like a man who had something — or maybe someone — to fight for.

And Belle had seen it happen in real time.

The checkered flag. The scream over the radio. The disbelieving, almost frantic way Lando had leapt from the car and paced like he didn’t know what to do with the adrenaline. Then — like gravity had found him again — he turned.

Emilie was already there.

She’d made her way down with the mechanics, badge flashing, heart in her throat. Belle didn’t know if someone had told her to go or if she’d just known. But the second Lando spotted her, the world shrunk.

No PR officials. No cameras. No team principals. Just her.

He didn’t hesitate. Not for a second.

One stride. Two. And then he was in front of her, grabbing her face like a man starved of touch, of home, of her. And kissed her.

Right there. In Parc Fermé. Helmet off, fireproofs half-zipped, shaking with emotion — he kissed her like she was the trophy. Like the whole damn weekend had led to this.

The crowd exploded. Screaming, cheering, wolf-whistling. Someone from McLaren hooted so loud Belle actually jumped.

And Belle?

Belle smiled.

Because Max had just pulled himself out of the RB20, sweat-slick and grinning like a man with no regrets. He walked toward her slowly, soaking it all in — the cheers, the chaos, the way Lando and Emilie were still wrapped around each other like teenagers in a romcom.

He reached her, pulled his cap off, and kissed her forehead.

He slid his hand over hers, resting it gently on the swell of her belly. “Think he felt that?”

“The baby?” Belle asked. “I think he just learned about true love and strategic PR in one go.”

Max chuckled. “Good. He’s ahead of schedule.”

Lando was still laughing, still breathless as he lifted Emilie off her feet and spun her once, like he didn’t care who was watching. And maybe for the first time all year, Belle thought he didn’t.

Because this wasn’t just a win.

It was his win.

And maybe — just maybe — it was the beginning of something more.

Belle looked at Max, his face glowing in the floodlights, proud and unbothered, hand still holding hers like he’d never let go.

Yeah. She thought, not for the first time that season, this is a good life.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/F1TeaDaily 🚨 BREAKING: Lando Norris WINS the Singapore Grand Prix!!! 🧡 Also Lando Norris KISSES A WOMAN IN PARC FERMÉ AND IT’S NOT HIS MUM OR HIS DOG?! More at 11.

@/gridgossipgirl lando norris just kissed someone in parc fermé. I repeat. HE KISSED HER. ON THE MOUTH. this is not a drill.

@/dannyricssmile lando norris kissing someone in parc fermé with the confidence of a man who has been Wifed™ someone check if she’s wearing a ring I’m begging

@/padockcryptid don’t get me wrong I’m happy he won but WHO THE HELL IS THAT GIRL AND HOW DO I BECOME HER

@/emiliesarchive hi yes the girl lando kissed is named emilie and she’s been seen around the paddock Spain, and she hangs out with Lily and Belle and once max verstappen handed her a juice box while glaring at lando. I knew something was up.

@/mrsoscarpiastri lando: wins a race lando: immediately turns into a fanfic boyfriend honestly it’s disgusting. i’m obsessed.

@/alexdoesmemes lando norris kissing his gf like they’re at the climax of a 2000s romcom while max just chills in p2 like a supportive older brother who knew the whole time cinema

@/BelleLeclercUpdates the way belle verstappen SMILED when she saw them kiss 😭 mother knows mother approves

@/sunshinef1girl i don’t want a boyfriend. i want a lando norris singapore gp 2024 parc fermé kiss.

@/quadrantclown lando: “I don’t talk about my private life” also lando: plants a cinematic kiss in front of three thousand cameras and god himself 🧍‍♂️

@/F1FictionReal so you’re telling me:

he wins

he kisses the girl

she wore a sundress

belle verstappen plotted this

max just smirked like he knew all along this isn’t a race. it’s the finale of season 3 of a netflix romance.

@/F1Girlie999 Lando Norris winning Singapore and then KISSING HIS GIRL like he's in a damn romance movie? Yes. Inject that into my veins.

💥💥💥💥💥

@/padDOCKwives every time i think f1 can't get more cinematic... lando wins. the lights. the heat. the sweat. the kiss. and in parc fermé?? someone call netflix.

@/F1StatManiac i don’t know what’s more impressive — Lando’s racecraft under pressure — or the grip he had on his girlfriend’s waist post-race 👏👏👏

@/bitchyforboveralls that was not a kiss that was a statement that was a thesis that was a roman empire

@/mclarenmediaarchive i will be studying the footage of that kiss like it's the zapruder film frame by frame. hand placement analysis. full body language breakdown.

@/f1fanatic89 lando. norris. won. and then kissed a girl like he’s the lead in a wattpad fic. is this growth???

@/gridgossip THE WAY HE JUST— HE JUST— DROPPED THE HELMET AND WALKED STRAIGHT TO HER THIS IS A ROM-COM I AM NOT OKAY

@/softverstappen someone said he kissed her like a man unburdened by poor strategy and I haven’t stopped laughing

@/wheelsemotions lando norris. won a race. kissed the girl. looked like a movie. and you want me to act normal about it????

@/gridwivesanonymous is this the lando norris arc where he finally gets the girl and the trophy?? oscar and max fewtrell better be flower girl and ring bearer

@mclarencultleader I just know Max looked at Lando and said “about damn time” and Belle clapped like it was the season finale someone confirm pls

***

The city outside still buzzed with post-race energy — horns in the distance, neon lights flickering against the windows. But inside their room, it was quiet.

Belle sat on the bed, one hand resting on her belly, her other tracing the condensation down a glass of water. Max was sitting at the edge, still in a t-shirt, hair damp from the shower, staring at nothing in particular.

“They said it on the broadcast,” Belle said softly. “That this might really be it for Daniel.”

Max didn’t respond at first.

He just nodded, slowly.

Then: “Yeah.”

Silence stretched again.

Belle watched him, her thumb brushing slow circles on the curve of her stomach. “Are you okay?”

Max exhaled through his nose. “He was my favourite teammate.”

There wasn’t any hesitation in the way he said it.

Not the kind of fondness people say in hindsight. But the honest kind — the kind with real warmth, buried under everything else that had changed since 2018.

Belle tilted her head. “Why?”

Max’s lips curved slightly, a quiet little thing. “Because he made the team feel lighter. Like… we could actually have fun. Even when the car was bad. Even when the pressure was worse.”

He paused. “He used to laugh in the briefing room just to make the engineers smile.”

Belle smiled too, just a little. “That sounds like him.”

“He was fast,” Max added, almost defensively. “Like really fast. People forget that. But he made it look easy because he was always joking. Like it wasn’t costing him anything.”

“And was it?” Belle asked.

Max hesitated. “Yeah. I think it was. But he never let it show.”

The baby shifted under Belle’s hand — a tiny kick, gentle but certain.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” she asked.

Max looked over at her. “I think he’ll be loved. And I think that’s better.”

He reached across the space between them, hand warm over hers, where their son stirred.

“He made F1 better,” Max said quietly. “For all of us. And I don’t think people say that enough.”

Belle leaned her head against his shoulder. “Maybe it’s your turn to be that person now.”

Max snorted softly. “I don’t think I’m the new Ricciardo.”

“No,” she said. “But you’re someone else’s favourite now.”

He looked down at her — at her hand over his, the baby beneath — and let the silence settle again.

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess I am.”

***

Text Messages: Belle Verstappen & Daniel Ricciardo

Belle: Hey. I just wanted to say — thank you.

For everything.

For being kind to Max when he was 19 and furious at the world. For making him laugh when no one else could. For being a teammate, but also a real friend — the kind that sticks.

I don’t know if you realise how much of an impact you had on him. But I see it every day.

(Also: thanks for not killing him when he was an arrogant teenager with a death wish. I know it was close sometimes.)

He’s really going to miss you. We both are.

Belle: Also. Don’t disappear off the face of the earth. You’re not allowed.

You still owe this baby hundreds of Max Verstappen stories that will one day horrify him. Preferably with impressions and questionable accents.

The baby needs to know the full lore of 2017 Max, and I feel like only you can deliver it properly.

Belle: You’re family. You always have a place with us.

Daniel: 😭😭😭 Mate you’re actually gonna make me cry right now. I love you guys. So much. Tell Max I’m not gone. Just… onto the next corner.

And tell the little Verstappen I’ll bring the snacks and the stories. Even the embarrassing ones. Especially the embarrassing ones. 😎

***

[norrisjpg]

── ☆ tea talks & torn paper

════════════════════════

series: my kind of woman, LN⁴

content: swearing, max & pietra being adorable, soft lando, relationship advice, torn pages, unspoken feelings and a little bit of tension

pairing: lando norris x fem!oc

rora's thoughts: hi everyone, ever so sorry i went quiet on you all! i was having a bit of an unmotivated era and literally gave up on life itself! but, i've had a mental reset and i'm ready to get back at writing again. so, i really hope you enjoy this one, and welcome to the world of my kind of woman!

════════════════════════

LILY’S FRIDAY AFTERNOON wasn’t supposed to look like this. 

her small suitcase had been packed, outfits meticulously chosen, and nervous system prepared for a full-on media blitz at the book launch she’d been anticipating for weeks. but, when the publishing company had abruptly postponed the event due to some sort of logistical complication, lily had found herself with an unclaimed weekend and a non-refundable train ticket to oxford.

“so, you’re sure you don’t want to reschedule this book launch thing?” the brit piped up from the couch. 

“it’s not reschedulable, you knob.” lily rolled her eyes as she placed her once-packed shoes back on the rack. “the whole thing was canned.”

“what a shame,” pietra teased, walking over to the couch and flopping down next to her boyfriend. “i was really looking forward to my saturday night voice notes about how some sweaty guy grabbed your ass.”

“thankyou p.” the younger fewtrell gave her a deadpan look.

“so welcome.” the girl grinned.

“the offer to come with me and p is still there,” max said breezily. “if you want it, of course. it’ll be fun, he has like ten spare rooms, and you haven’t seen him in ages.”

“you’re not giving me much time to think about this.” she frowned, zipping the suitcase back up.

“because i know you, el.” her brother replied. “you’ll just be in your flat all weekend, reading something sappy and avoiding socialisation – or god forbid, you spend it with harry.”

“hey, leave harry out of this – and maybe i like being a recluse.”

“oh, we’re going golfing too, so pack some golf-friendly clothes.” he pointed out, trying to think of any other things she should know. “and lando has a hot-tub, and a sauna, and a gym… actually just pack for everything.”

“does he even know i’m coming?” she asked, still contemplating whether she should just bale on her not-certain plans already.

“he’s lando, he’d probably forget even if i did tell him.” max shrugged casually, earning a hand to the shoulder from pietra.

“lily, it’ll be fine. lando likes you, you like lando. it’s not like he’s going to make you sleep on the driveway – so you’re not uninvited, just a… nice surprise.”

“okay, i’ll come, when are we leaving?” lily sighed, wheeling her case toward her bedroom. 

max checked his watch, “in thirty.” 

• • • •

THE BACKSEATS of max’s audi were surprisingly spacious, allowing lily to stretch her legs out across the seats, and lean on the pillow she’d brought with her. the spine of her latest read was pressed against her knee, a good girl’s guide to murder printed neatly in black and red on a white background. she’d been meaning to read it for years now, but she’d never quite gotten around to opening the front page – so this was a good excuse, an hours drive to get stuck in.

invested in the teenager’s journey, she had neglected to notice that max had indicated down a tree-lined driveway, and that lando’s surrey pad had come into view – sleek, modern lines softened by ivy-covered walls and warm yellow lights pouring from the interior. 

lando and lily had known each other since they were fifteen, meeting at one of max’s karting races. he’d been awkward and geeky, gushing over engine types and tyre wear, but always sweet and polite with her, if a little nervous sometimes. but the last time she’d seen him was almost a year ago. he’d filled out (obviously, formula 1 drivers aren’t exactly stick-like), and he was charming, making her laugh with well-polished wit and the same immature humour she’d grown to love in their childhood. he’d been effortlessly kind, gentle, sweet in an undemanding way that didn’t make her feel like she had to perform. 

“i still feel weird showing up unannounced.” lily mumbled as she closed her book and carefully placed it into her bag. 

“as my wonderful girlfriend said, just a delightful surprise.” max quoted pietra, shutting the driver’s side door. 

she grumbled something in response, walking around toward the boot of the audi, intending on hauling her suitcase out of the vehicle – but it was short-lived, because the subject of her worries stepped out of the front door with a wide grin on his face.

“hey lovebirds.” lando chimed, skipping down the front steps like the child he was – and not quite noticing the other girl stood behind the car. 

the driver gave the pair a quick hug, “how was your drive?”

“lily wouldn’t stop stressing out about the fact that you didn’t know she was coming.” max blurted, making his sister poke her head out from the rear of the audi.

“hi lando.” she waved with a small, sheepish smile. 

if he wasn’t already smiling, he was practically beaming now. lando’s features softened and lit up at the same time, and he laughed softly, quickly heading toward her. 

“hi lala.” the mclaren driver said quietly, casually embracing the girl as if he’d been waiting for this day – his hoodie smelled like cedarwood and lemon, and it assaulted her senses like a homely candle. “how’ve you been?”

“i’ve been good, thankyou.” she smiled. “you?”

“never better,” lando nodded, gaze flitting over her features as he spoke. “let me get your stuff.”

“it’s okay���” she was cut off by lando easily picking her bag up. “thankyou. you’re sure you don’t mind me crashing here for the weekend?”

“are you kidding?” the brit laughed, “you’ve just improved the guestlist.”

pietra looked at max, raising her eyebrows in that same way she always did, earning an eye roll from her boyfriend. the couple (code for max) grabbed their bags, and then the two of them headed into the house. 

“come on, you can pick your room.” lando nodded, reaching up and closing the boot, before gesturing for her to follow him into the large building.

inside, the house was as chaotic as she’d remembered, but in a more, subtle, i’m an adult now, way. the shoe-shelf by the door was dishevelled to say the least – all of his most-used shoes were on there, just randomised and not in pairs at all. her shoes actually looked out of place, paired neatly and placed next to the strangely organised rack. there were a few pillows on the bottom of the staircase, with an untouched basket of clean washing next to the bannister.

pietra was flopped on the couch like it was her own, with max complaining about having no space and trying to find something to watch on the ridiculously large tv.

“so why’d you end up coming?” lando asked as he carried lily’s suitcase up the stairs. “not that i’m unhappy you’re here.”

“the book launch i was going to got cancelled.” she explained with a shrug of her shoulders. “i wasn’t really looking forward to it anyway. they sent me an early release, didn’t bother to read it.”

“brutal.” the driver laughed, glancing back at her briefly.

“honestly?” lily continued. “i wasn’t in the mood to be charming to strangers.”

“and you are now?” lando queried as they entered the spare room next to his. 

“you’re not a stranger, and define charming.” she laughed.

“exactly what you’re doing now.” he replied coolly, his gaze trained on her for a little too long.

“lando, why do you have four tubs of peanut butter and no bread?” max yelled up the stairs. 

“they substituted my nutella and i forgot about bread.” lando groaned, turning to shout.

“still the same.” she chuckled.

“i’m evolving, slowly.”

“i noticed,” she teased. “you used to live on toast and protein bars.”

“bagels and protein shakes now, i’ve upgraded. very adult.”

“impressive.”

their eyes locked again, and for a second, the faint noise of max and pietra chatting downstairs faded to silence. it was the kind of moment lily had always brushed past before – innocent enough to ignore, but heavy enough to remember. she looked away first, thanking him for carrying her bags and letting her stay.

“you’re always welcome here, lala.”

• • • •

BY TEN O’CLOCK, max was flat out on the sofa after a debate about which premier league team had the best looking players, and pietra had rolled her eyes at her boyfriend so many times she was sure they were going to get stuck there. pietra retired to the other guest bedroom, and lando bidded the younger fewtrell goodnight, before she herself slipped away to her room, the soft click of the door punctuating the quietness of the house.

she wasn’t tired.

restless was a better way to describe her demeanour, the kind of restlessness that came from a long day of travel, too many not quite finished thoughts, and the underlying buzz of something unspoken. maybe it was lando’s nostalgic warmth, maybe it was the glance she caught between max and pietra when lando greeted her, as if they knew something lily didn’t.

she wouldn’t call what happened sleep, moreso closing her eyes for a couple hours and pretending too. so, at five o’clock in the morning, the pull of alertness won, dragging her out of bed and quietly downstairs to the kitchen. 

she padded down the stairs in her hoodie and shorts, expecting silence – but the kitchen light was on, but dimmed.

pietra sat at the counter, sipping from a ceramic mug, her body angled toward the sliding glass doors. outside, the early morning sky stretched wide and pale, clouds tinged with gold and papaya.

“oh, morning.” lily grumbled, not sure if she was pleasantly surprised by the lack of solitude or not. “how come you’re up?”

“not really that tired.” pietra shrugged, sighing softly as she sipped more of her coffee. “how are you and harry doing?”

“yeah, we’re okay, i guess.” lily said, sounding slightly unamused. “we’re just casual, you know?”

“you deserve something that isn’t casual.” she responded. “and look i know it might be a bit random to you, but have you considered lando?”

she laughed, quiet and a little shook. “lando? no way, he’s max’s best mate.”

“but he’s so sweet to you, not like he is with anyone else.”

“he’s nice to everyone.” she brushed it off, like she always did.

“you’re allowed to like someone who’s good for you, you know? no matter who they are.”

she was about to reply, consider pietra’s suggestion, when the pad of heavier footsteps interrupted her train of thought. “oh, good morning.” lando yawned.

“morning lan.” lily smiled, the nickname slipping off of her tongue. 

“morning lando.” pietra replied, glancing at the man. 

he was in the navy quadrant hoodie, looking too soft to be real, hood pulled up and curls sticking out everywhere. on his legs were a light grey pair of shorts, with some matching navy socks on his feet. he looked pliant, adorable even. 

the three of them sat in comfortable silence, lando knowingly sliding a hot cup of tea, with two sugars and a splash of milk, over to lily wordlessly, earning an appreciative smile from her. he hopped up onto the counter next to her, watching the sunrise with the two girls. lily watched a bird land on the balcony fence, wings sharp against the morning blush – admiring the way it could freely come and go whenever it wanted.

“you remembered,” lily smiled after swallowing a mouthful of the warm beverage. “my tea, that is.”

“i have a good memory.” the driver smiled, gently nudging her shoulder with his own. “two sugars with an obscenely small amount of milk.”

she laughed, quiet and real, glancing at him and noticing the faint traces of sleep on his face, in the forms of shallow lines and dishevelled eyelashes. his curls looked ridiculously soft, and when he ruffled them after taking his hood down, she briefly appreciated the beauty of his new hair. 

the way he leaned a little closer to her when she smiled didn’t go unnoticed, instead reluctantly swept away from her mind like the rest of the thoughts he brought with him.

• • • •

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, lily was sat on a deck chair on the patio, nearing the end of the first book in the trilogy. she was so deep into the plotline that she didn’t notice lando creeping up behind her until it was too late. 

when his hands squeezed her shoulders abruptly, she slammed the book shut and pulled on one of the pages near the end – tearing the paper almost clean out. she quietly noticed, he didn’t.

“lando!” she groaned, gently thumping him on the head with the paperback. 

“you ready for my cooking, miss fewtrell?” he asked, hands still on her shoulders, softly holding and rubbing his thumbs over them now. 

“call the fire brigade now.”

“hey! that was one time.” he laughed, resting his chin on top of her head and looking down at her book. “what’cha reading?”

“something you’re clearly too illiterate to read the title of.” she deadpanned, putting the book under her chair and going to get up.

he laughed, genuine and real, for the first time in a while. “so rude – i’ll make you sleep on the drive.”

“who would keep your ego in check then?” lily shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows with a teasing laugh.

a couple hours later, the group were full and max was pretty sure he had chronic indigestion from trying to see how many chips he could eat in thirty seconds. 

lando was out on the deck, making sure he hadn’t left anything out there, when he spotted the white and red book underneath a patio chair. en-route back to the house, the driver flicked through a few pages, his gaze immediately landing on the ripped page near the back – and he quickly realised that he was at fault for it. he didn’t say anything when he handed the book back to her, not yet.

• • • •

MONDAY MORNING came around too quickly, and lando left before the other three did, having to head out early to japan early for some media stuff. he’d hugged her, longer than he did the other two, even whispered a sweet ‘see you soon, lala’ in her ear as he’d pulled away.

she wasn’t actually sure when he’d done it, she’d been with him practically the entire weekend. but when she’d returned to the room she was staying in, with the intention of packing up her stuff – there was a neatly wrapped and strangely-shaped package on the foot of the double bed, clad in brown paper with a small white bow on the top left corner. 

‘sorry about the book. and sorry i didn’t scare max instead. had some help from p too - L’

lily stood there for a few minutes after unwrapping the entire holly jackson series, heart swelling, and the scent of the perfume she’d been wanting but could get curling around her like a spritzed embrace.

outside the window, the wind brushed the trees.

and somewhere deep in her soul, something had begun to change.

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taglist: @verogonewild @tvdtw4ever @shawnscurlz @f1fantasys @hescrush @stonesylove @irisesinthegarden @unfuckwitabella @mayax2o07 @curlylando

i do not give permission for my works to be re-written, re-published, or published on any other platform.

© norrisjpg 2025

[flowergoddessblooms]

I stagger to the bathroom to reach the medicine cabinet. Ugh, this headache is almost worse than the time I had an aneurysm when I was 23. Can't believe it's been almost a decade since then.

As I try to prop myself up against the sink, my vision catches an uncanny flash of red. I whip my head to catch it, only to stumble and fall due to the sheer stupidity of what I think I saw. Obviously it couldn't be real. I must be asleep, dreaming one of those absolutely real dreams and I'll probably wake up any minute now.

But no.

The nightmare never ended.

I glance at myself in the mirror to confirm the monstrosity I thought I saw and, yep, right there are two jarringly red horns jutting out of my forehead. It was an odd feeling. Cautiously, I try to touch them. Coarse, almost like sandpaper grating on bones. They're lined with concentric circles going all the way down to the base and touching them feels like... touching a bone in my body?

The feeling is inexplicable, it's as though I mutated or evolved or just...dreamt a really bad dream. Yeah, it should be the third one. I mean, how am I supposed to go to work looking like this?! How am I supposed to go anywhere? Halloween was months ago and I don't think my boss would appreciate me "wearing" horns in the middle of May!

As if right on schedule, my phone buzzes. A reminder for a meeting I have with potential clients to close a big deal. But there's no time for that. I can't actually go out like this.

As I pace around, thinking about what excuse would not get me fired, it suddenly strikes me. If this is real, there's no way I'm the only one. Someone else out there must've woken up with... ugh, horns. Still feels weird to say it.

I turn on the little TV set in the corner of my room and...huh? The news reporter is panicking because she grew a pair of green horns. The live feed shows the City Square, people running astray. Eerily enough, not everyone has grown horns.

As I squint my eyes and scoot closer to the TV to figure out the chaos I notice a mother violently trying to reach her blue horned child, who is lost in the crowd. Just as she was about to grab his hand, his body falls limp and hits the ground with a thud. Even over the television, her wails are visceral and raged, only to get shot herself. Police swarmed the City Square, their rifles raised and movements chaotic. They did not hesitate. Blood flowed on the streets as bodies dropped, each passing minute worse than the one before.

Does that mean only a part of the population has been affected by this? Just as I was about to increase the TV volume, my head seared with pain, as though it would split open any minute and a thunderous voice bellowed, its origins unknown.

"Heed my words, mortals. Cleanse this wretched world of vermin unable to cast judgement, for sins so vile, even the mercy of the Lord shall not grant them life after life."

The second the voice stopped talking, my headache vanished. Petrified, I stared at the TV for anything that would help explain what was happening. The now horned news reporter rambled on, until she was shot by a nearby civillian. An elderly man, he rushed up to the camera, his eyes crazed, as he grinned unnaturally, grating his teeth, "These are the sinners, the Lord has arrived and given us the power to purge all evil! Hallelujah!"

The voice said to cleanse the world of pests who have sinned. Does that mean it's the people with the horns?

But why is it that, when I see the news, bodies and bodies of horned individuals drop dead without fighting back?

Are we the sinners? Or have we been sinned against?

You woke up this morning with a terrible headache, and discover you’ve grown horns while you’ve slept. Unbeknownst to you, this is just the beginning.

[hirasunny]

Drive me home

pairing — k-drama! ahn suho x gn! reader

synopsis — you inform him everyday of the school’s meal plan and he takes you home as his form of payment. it becomes a routine and now.. well now everyone thinks you’re dating.

warnings — none. includes suho’s first scene and him being an oblivious fool

genre — fluff, confused feelings, love confession w a kiss

word count — 2.7k+ words

note: hi everyone! it’s my first time posting :) i read a lot of whc fics on tumblr but always see less stories of suho, so i decided to make one for the people that look for him. i’m not much of a writer so i apologize for any mistakes. enjoy loves! 💛

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Hey, (Name). What’s for lunch?”

A voice called out from behind you, not paying any mind that you were obviously busy with writing notes. You decided to ignore it the first time since you were so engrossed in your work, but boy was he pushy.

Due to your lack in response, he bumped the toe of his shoe at the back of your chair—it wasn’t hard but it was enough for you to pause and look at him with furrowed brows. “What, Suho?” You grumbled, locking your eyes on his face.

“What’s for lunch?” Suho repeated as he slowly fixed his posture after laying down on his desk for so long, grunting when he stretched his arms out. “Ah, I’m hungry.” He said with a yawn.

You thought for a moment, trying to remember today’s meal while he silently waited for your answer, looking at you like he was memorizing the look on your face.

“Um, I think it’s seaweed rice balls and tofu stew.” You answered back, you can almost feel yourself salivating at the thought of food but you saw how Suho lit up at the mention of it, nodding as he did so.

“Nice. Sit with me at lunch?” He asked, leaning his head on his palm with a hopeful expression, smiling when you hummed in agreement before he looked elsewhere.

You continued to stare at him though. Creases formed on his uniform, his red shirt underneath giving you an eyesore if you stared at it for too long and his messy bangs that you constantly want to fix.

And his face—you noticed a few cuts and past bruises from all the fights he had, cheeks puffed up, jaw defined like the Gods took their time sculpting it to perfection, and his soft lips that looked like it needed a kiss—

Wait. What?

You felt the blood rushing in your face, coughing as you tried to focus on your notes rather than the boy behind you. What were you even thinking?

Honestly, you don’t even know how you ended up in this predicament.

You just knew it all started when that stupid baseball team barged in your classroom.

—

“Which one of you is Ahn Suho?” The seemingly captain of the baseball team's voice echoed, and by the looks of it.. He was pissed, like really pissed.

Everyone looked at the back of the room as fingers were pointed towards the sleeping male. Almost all of them expected you to do something because you were the closest to him.

You shifted awkwardly in your seat, deciding to poke his arm, “Suho..” You whispered, but he didn’t budge, still snoring like there weren’t six people waiting to beat him up.

You tried a few more times, calling his name louder and shaking his arm. When Suho finally came to his senses, he removed his hands from his pink pillow and wiped his eyes, “What’s up? Is it lunchtime already?” He mumbled, then the guy in front cut him off.

They went back and forth about a girl named Na-eun and Suho blandly responded that he wasn’t interested in her. Then, he soon faced you again, “Hey, what’s for lunch today?” He asked.

You gaped at him, flabbergasted with a look that says: ‘You’re about to get your ass beaten and you’re still asking what’s for lunch?’ Nonetheless, you responded despite the angry baseball team near you. “Oh.. Jaeyuk..”

Suho smiled a little, “That sounds good. Protein is good.” You could only nod at him, glancing at his enemies that walked closer to the both of you.

“Thanks, I owe you.” He said just as you move away from the bat swung at him.

That was the weirdest interaction of the day.

That same day after classes ended, Suho stood outside the school, leaned up against his motorcycle. He didn’t have a reason to stay there actually. But he wanted to because he was waiting for you.

“Hey! (Name), right?” Suho waved when you were coming down the ramp, your bag hanging on your shoulder. You halted your pace and looked around as if to make sure it was you he was talking to.

There was little to no students around and you still pointed to yourself, unsure. “Uh.. Are you talking to me?”

Suho let out a smile and you watched as he opened the buckles of his helmet, “Yeah, you’re the only (Name) I know.” He replied like it was the most obvious answer.

You blinked, and made your way to him. “Why? Is there something wrong?” You asked, tilting your head when he shook his head no.

“I owe you, remember? I’ll take you home, think of it as my payment.” Suho smiled at you again, leaving you no room to refuse and took your bag, bringing it inside his motor top box instead.

“What? It’s fine, I was only telling you our lunch—hey!” He stopped you from talking further by putting his helmet on your head, carefully brushing out your hair so it wouldn’t get in your face.

You blushed in surprise at your close proximity. Seeing how concentrated he was in fixing your hair, you couldn’t say anything else.

“Alright, all done.” He says, putting the shield down before he sat on his motorcycle, turning it on. “Come on, which way do we go?” He looked up at you expectantly, acting as if he didn’t just do such romantic gestures.

You stuttered for a few seconds then sighed in defeat, “Unbelievable.” You say and moved to sit behind him, using his shoulders as support.

—

A month already passed by, yet he never stopped bringing you home. It was starting to become a routine for the both of you and it didn’t even occur to you that you've become close.

That was until your friend called you over at lunchtime when you were about to go to Suho’s table, where Sieun and Beomseok also sat.

“(Nameeee), you’ve been neglecting us.” She pouted, pointing her chopsticks to the trio. “You’re always with them!”

You snickered, “No I’m not, we just hang out a lot.”

She rose an eyebrow, “What about Suho then? You two are inseparable," She teased, “I've heard everyone say you guys are dating.”

You widen your eyes, quickly denying the accusation, “What? We’re not, he just..“ You pursed your lips. “Hold on a sec. What do you mean everyone?”

“You don’t know?” She exclaimed in surprise, then laughed. “People have been saying you’ve been together for a while. And how he drives you home everyday from school. It’s kinda obvious.” She told you, but you processed the information like an old computer — slow and buffering.

“..but we’re just friends. Suho doesn’t like me.” You finally muttered out, a recognizable blush creeping up on your cheeks.

“Well.. I think you certainly do.” Your friend winked at you, ushering you to go back to them.

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t deny it.

And you kind of hate that you couldn’t.

You stopped functioning properly minutes later.

You sat down without a word beside Suho, who was busy feeding himself, then glanced at you when he spotted your stillness. “Why? Someone say something to you?” He says incoherently with food in his mouth.

“Could you swallow your food before you talk?” Sieun questioned lowly, disgusted by Suho’s actions while Beomseok laughed at the two.

You chuckled as a way to keep yourself from freaking out, “Eat, Suho. You might choke.”

He didn’t listen though, “Tell me if someone’s bothering you, okay? I got your back.” He spoke lightly, giving a thumbs up before turning to his tray again.

You slowly lift your lips into a soft smile.

“Suho, why do you still take me home?” You asked while he was placing the helmet on your head. He always insists to do it himself—says it’s to make sure it’s secured. (It always is, he just wants to tend for you) However, you can feel his breath near your lips every time and he acts like it never happened.

It drives you nuts.

Suho answered, “You always tell me what lunch is.”

You rolled your eyes, “Is it really just that?” You mumbled quietly in disappointment, slightly hoping you had heard something more than that.

“What was that?” He squint his eyes at you in question, focusing on how your lips turned to a small pout, your eyes slightly glossy from the wind, and your cheeks squished from the helmet. “Forget it.” You voiced, crossing your arms as you looked away, unaware of the attention you were getting.

God, you were so pretty, Suho thought. He wondered if you knew.

Suho stared at you longer, wishing he could say something. He really wanted to. Instead, he cleared his throat, nodding to himself. ‘Maybe next time.’ He told himself.

You avoided interacting as much with Suho the next day. And the day after that, and then another...

But you honestly don’t know if he got the memo.

He still taps your shoulder when he asks for lunch, still messages you with his dumb stickers that often makes you laugh, still runs with you at the field even though he was always the first to finish, still talks to you as if you aren't ignoring him completely.

The worst part? He still waits for you outside school, with the same old lip smile and that damn red helmet he puts on you, always as gentle and careful just so you can be comfortable.

It's making you crazy, you wanted Suho to stop so you can put an end to your blooming feelings. But you don't know how despite the several "what are we's" you ask yourself.

Because at the same time, you loved it.

You loved how he memorized your favorite duet so he can sing it at the karaoke place with you, how he knew not to bother you when you're studying because you easily forget important terms and definitions, how he picked you up from your house in the middle of the night just because you messaged a simple "im hungry :(" and brought you to a night market to eat. So you let him became a part of your routine, without even noticing that he openly let you be a part of his.

Suho never once pushed you away—he pretends not to look for you but smiles and waves when he sees you first in the crowd and he glares at someone when they talk behind your back, taunting them with a look that strongly speaks volume.

He was there, protecting you silently and steadfastly.

On a random Tuesday when classes ended, you cursed at yourself for forgetting your math notebook in your locker. You had a test coming up and you desperately needed it back.

Hence, here you were in front of your homeroom.

Just as you were about to slide the door open. You overhear someone and stopped yourself from moving further when you realize the familiarity of Beomseok's voice.

"Hey, Suho. What do you think of (Name)? You're really close with them." There was a tone in his voice that tells you he was curious. But you were surprised that Suho was still there. You assumed he left already because he told the group he was going to work earlier.

Now you were invested.

"(Name)? Ah, they're a pretty good friend." Suho shared, ending the conversation rather quickly like it was nothing.

Their voices were muffled after that. Friend? Is that what he just thinks of you? Nothing more?

Just a pretty good friend?

Lost in thought, you forgot you were in front of the door and had no time to react when it opened wide.

There he was, in all his glory. The boy who occupied all the thoughts in your mind.

Ahn Suho.

His body jumped a bit when he saw you. Scanning you before he widened his eyes, "(Name)."

He was about to open his mouth once more before you walked back to where you came from, unable to face him anymore.

Or anyone at the matter.

He yelled out your name as you walked faster. You just wanted to get home as fast as possible. And probably cry your eyes out while you're at it too.

You weren't aware that you even made it out of the school, seeing a glimpse of a familiar motorcycle near the school entrance before you were pulled beside it by a hand firmly on your forearm.

"(Name)!" Suho's voice made you snap out of it, a bit breathless from running after you.

"What, Suho? What is it?" You demanded angrily, forcing your arm away from him and tried to look less vulnerable in the sight of him.

But he saw through you too easily, seeing the way you shut your walls around him.

"I was waiting for you."

You looked up to him sharply, feeling your throat closing in on you. "You have to be joking right?" You asked in disbelief, "You have no right to say that. We're just friends after all." You added, your hands were trembling out of frustration.

Suho furrowed his eyebrows, "(Name), what do you mean?"

"Oh my God. Suho, are you really that dense?" You tried again, wishing he would finally understand why you were acting like this.

He looked at you like he was trying hard to grasp the situation. But you continued.

"I like you! And I can't keep acting like what you're doing means nothing to me—because it does. Everything you do matters to me!" You ranted, taking deep breaths to calm yourself down.

Suho didn't reply, he just slowly walked closer to you, and you let him.

His hands, that stayed mostly in his pockets, placed themselves on your cheeks, he felt warm as you were right now after confessing to him. You waited for him to say something, anything, so you wouldn't hear your heart beating so loudly.

"You're not a friend." He calmly stated, his voice wavering slightly as if he was finding words to glue together.

You gave him a look, "Then what am I to you?" You whisper, attempting to shy away from his deep gaze.

Suho tilted his head closer to yours, feeling each other's warm breath before he leaned in, placing his lips on yours.

It felt like you melted, your hands clutched his jacket for dear life as one of his hands smoothly settled behind the back of your neck, the other on your hip, deepening the kiss.

Maybe that was your answer.

That he has always thought of you more than just a friend, he simply didn’t know how to say it. He just waited for the right time.

When you both pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours, "You're gonna be mine." He says confidently, moving his head back when you laughed.

He knew that sound was going to be his favorite.

You nodded with a smile, "Good. Because I like that better."

“Let me drive you home?” Suho asked, but he didn’t have to ask, you knew he was already getting his helmet from his motor top box.

“You ask that to anyone else?” You teased, but you let out a small sound when he quickly pressed his lips on you again and plopped the helmet on you.

“Just you.”

—

“Woah, the tofu’s so soft. (Name), try this.” Suho commented beside you, bringing up a spoonful to your lips—you rolled your eyes at his antics, but opened your mouth anyway, tasting the perfect blend of saltiness and bean-like flavor of the silky tofu.

You hummed, “It is. I like it.”

Suho looked like a puppy, beaming in pride and ate more, not forgetting to put some on your plate. However, you see the students around you take a glance at your table that made you sigh and shake your head.

Sure, people looked at you and Suho still, whispering amongst themselves but you couldn’t care less. Since now you can’t even deny the dating rumors when you have your hand intertwined with his.

And it was more than okay for the both of you.

[theplaid-wearingmoose]

Poison~Dark!Sylus x Stripper!Reader smut~

Based off this song.

Warnings: OOC Sylus (my Consent King would never), Dark!Sylus, Reader is a stripper that gets treated poorly, Sylus is a mean dom, condescending dialogue, Sylus is very possessive, spanking, dacryphilia, reader is afraid of Sylus but also aroused by him and how he treats her, mentions of breeding

He was here again for the 5th time this week. Your best client. He was also the scariest. Being an erotic dancer in the N109 Zone obviously wasn't the safest job in the world but you knew how to defend yourself. You'd been in plenty of close scrapes but nobody had ever scared you more than the Leader of Onychinus.

Everybody knew him in the N109 Zone. You didn't last long here if you didn't know about Onychinus or the terrifying man who lead them. His very presence made the club patrons forget about the half naked girls dancing in front of them. The girls themselves tried to keep up the fantasy but even they were trembling, never knowing what would happen when Sylus appeared. His two masked henchmen behind him looked around. "I don't see her, boss. Maybe she doesn't work tonight." Sylus cast an unamused glance around the room, smirking at the way the nearby patrons and staff scurried to get out of his way. They should be used to his presence by now. But he prefers it this way, it guarantees that he'll be left alone.

"She's here. Find the owner and tell them I'll be waiting in the usual room for her. Then fire them. I'm buying this place." He demanded, his tone cool but annoyed as he headed to the back of the club. The heavy bass of the club's music pounded in his ears as he disappeared through the curtain separating the main club from the private rooms. The bouncers didn't even make any move to stop him. As if they could even try. He thought to himself. He passed room after room, the noise of boorish men finishing too quickly in their stained pants followed him as he reached the end of the hallway. He always chose this room. It was the furthest from the noise, he liked the quiet. He liked the very subtle thumping of the music as he took his sweet gem on the silk sheets. She better be here soon, he wasn't in the mood for games tonight..

~~~~~~

"He's here again for you, honey. And he just bought the club and fired Valentino." You took a sharp breath and stood, your ruby themed makeup stared back at you, your stomach twisting with nerves. "Thanks, Angel. I'll be right there."

Stepping through the curtain, you made your way to the end of the long hallway. You couldn't tell if it was the music or your heart that pounded in your ears. You'd done this dozens of times already, but he still scared you. Just his power and the reputation he held intimidated you. And yet he came to see you. Only you. No one else would do in his eyes, you were all he wanted. That part scared you more.

You opened the door to the bedroom, dim lighting and the scent of perfume filled your senses. Your eyes settled on the man sitting on the edge of the bed, his fingers curled around a glass of whiskey. "Good evening, kitten." He purred, his red eyes moving over your form. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon, sir. You've been here almost every night this week." You spoke, forcing yourself to sound confident. Sylus smirked and shrugged. "Can you blame me, kitten? I rarely get to enjoy company as pleasurable as yours." He tilted his head to the side as if he was suddenly confused. "But why are you standing over there like a virgin on her wedding night? Come here, sweetie. Let me get a good look at you."

You stepped towards him, taking his outstretched hand and letting him pull you in. He spun you around in a slow circle and you could feel his eyes raking over your body. "This outfit is nice. It flatters you very well, kitten." He hummed as you turned back to face him. "Did you get the flowers I sent?" He asked, already knowing you did. "Yes, thank you. They're very beautiful." Sylus smiled and pulled you onto his lap. You gasped as he pressed his face against your skin, inhaling your scent. "You've been staying away from other men, haven't you? No other clients, right?" You nodded, the fear mixing with nerves and excitement. "Y-yes. Nobody else."

His large hand gripped your chin roughly, making you whimper. "You sure, sweetie? You wouldn't lie to me, would you?" You shook your head, tears forming in your eyes. "N-nobody! I swear! Nobody else. J-just you!" You trembled in his lap which only fueled him. He leaned back with a smug expression, still holding your chin tightly. "That's my good girl. Now get on your knees. You kept me waiting tonight, kitten, and you know how much I hate waiting for you." You swallowed thickly. You kneeled in front of him, shaky hands reaching up to undo his pants. You let out a sharp gasp as he slapped your hands away. "Do you think I'm going to give it to you that easily? You're being punished right now, kitten. Use your mouth."

You whimpered and leaned forward to mouth at his pants. You flicked the zipper with your tongue and pulled it down with your teeth. He had enough mercy to take his cock out of his pants for you but he was quick to pull you back in and shove himself into your mouth. You gagged a bit at the sudden intrusion but you quickly adjusted and took him deeper into your throat. Sylus groaned and held your hair in his fist, moving your head up and down just the way he likes. "Your mouth feels so good, sweetie. So warm and soft for me." He moaned, moving your head faster. Your eyes squeezed shut as you breathed heavily through your nose as you tried to focus on pleasing him and not gagging from how deep he was in your throat. "Take it, sweetie. Take it all for me." He growled. You moaned around him, tears falling from your eyes now as you struggled to breathe. Sylus finally pulled you off him, clearly relishing in your coughs and gasps for breath.

He pulled you up from the floor and across his lap. "Now, you're going to be a good girl and stay still. Your punishment isn't over yet." His hand massaged your ass before coming down with a swift smack. You cried out in surprise, the sting shocking you before actually hurting. Sylus gripped your hair and pulled your head back. "What did I just say, kitten? You will stay still and take your punishment like a good girl. Or else we'll just keep going until your ass bleeds, do you understand?" You whimpered and nodded. "Say. It." He demanded. "Yes, sir! I understand! I-I'm sorry!" You apologized. Sylus hummed in approval before bringing his hand down on your ass again. You bit your lip to stifle the cry and you forced your body to stay still and take it.

After ten more strikes, your ass was stinging and sore. Tears were falling freely now and Sylus began rubbing soothing circles on your skin. "Oh my poor precious angel...you're breaking my heart with those tears, sweet girl. I think you've been good enough for me to fuck you now." Standing to his feet, he lifted you into his arms and whirled you around so you were now lying on the bed. His eyes never left you as he yanked off his tie and shirt. He crawled on top of you like a predator claiming their prey. His large hands pinned your wrists to the bed as he pushed your legs open with his body. His mouth attacked yours, kissing you roughly and making your head spin. He tasted of whiskey and orange, combined his feverish kisses like he was afraid you'd disappear if he let you come up for air. He gripped your wrists in one hand while his other tore your panties right off you. You whined against his lips, feeling his large fingers rub your clit in circles. "Do you want it, kitten?" He rasped in your ear. You nodded, your hands clenching into fists in his grasp. "You're already dripping for me. My dirty little girl is soaking wet for me, huh? You better beg me if you want this cock, my little gem."

"P-Please...please fuck me...I've been a good girl, I swear! I promise I'll be so good for you, just take me!" You cried, tears flowing from your eyes as the pleasure became overwhelming. Sylus grinned wickedly and licked your cheek, basking in the salty taste of your tears. "I love it when you cry for me like that, sweetie. You look so cute squirming under me like this. Say my name, angel. I want you to beg for me properly." "S-Sylus! F-fuck me Sylus, please! I'll do whatever you want, sir...please!" You sobbed. Sylus hummed and reached down to slap his heavy cock against your sensitive clit. "That's more like it." He growled.

Never one for being gentle, Sylus pushed himself inside you, bottoming out in one go. His head fell forward onto your shoulder, a low groan filling your ears and sending a tingle down your spine. "You're so perfect, sweetie. Made just for me..." He murmurs, his hips moving sharply against yours. Your gasps and moans echoed in his ears, making him pound into you even harder. "That's a good girl...taking me so well, kitten. You're such a good girl.." Your eyes rolled back as his cock filled you so completely. You could feel him in your stomach. He was so big you felt like he could split you in half with his thrusts. Especially when he threw your legs onto his shoulders, folding you like a piece of paper. You screamed in pleasure as he bullied your poor pussy with his cock. His taunting eyes and tone of voice had you on the edge. "You're gonna cum for me already, kitten? We've barely spent any time together. My needy little baby...you needed cock this badly, hm?" You whimpered and nodded, unable to form any words. But Sylus wasn't letting you get away with that. "What was that, pretty girl? I couldn't hear you."

"Yes!! Yes Sylus I needed you! I needed your cock so badly. It's all I've been thinking about for days! Every time you leave -shit....I-I'm just thinking about how much I can't wait til you come back and fuck me again!" You cried out. Sylus cursed and dug his fingers into your hips. "You're so cute, sweetie. I love it when you get desperate like this. Don't worry, sweet girl, I'm gonna make sure you get what you want."

His words were sweet but his tone was mocking as if he was pitying you. His hips slowed to a stop and he pulled out. You opened your mouth to ask why he stopped but all that came out was a squeal as he landed a slap to your puffy clit. "Turn over for me, kitten. Let me see that ass bounce on my dick." Clenching at his words, you rolled over and lifted your ass into the air without protest. Sylus laughed. "Fuck, you're so obedient. You're really presenting yourself to me like some bitch needing to be bred. Is that what you want, sweetie? You want me to fucking breed you?" Your face burned from both embarrassment and arousal. "W-whatever you want, sir..." You whimpered. Sylus gripped your hips in his hands and shoved his length back inside you. This angle had you seeing stars as he fucked you. The loud slaps of skin echoed throughout the room as his hips slammed against your ass. "You feel so fucking good, kitten. I might just cum inside you this time." He moaned. He smirked when he felt you clench around him. "Ohhh so you do want me to breed you, huh? Make you mine forever? Make it so you never have to work in this shithole again. You'll be my perfect little wife, won't you sweetie?"

Sylus' words combined with his cock pushing deep inside you had you barely hanging on. But you knew you needed to ask for your release or he'd be pissed. "I'm...so close! Can I cum? Please? I-I've been good...please let me cum." You begged. Sylus sighed and dragged his hand up the back of your head, scratching your scalp and gripping your hair in a tight fist. "You beg so sweetly, my angel. And you have been good for me tonight. I suppose I'll be merciful. Cum for me, kitten."

After a few moments of quiet, heavy breathing the only sound on the room, Sylus moved off you and grabbed a towel from the small table in the center of the room. He cleaned himself off but surprised you by climbing back onto the bed and gently wiping between your legs. It was such a moment of tenderness he had never really shown before. Tossing the towel away, he pulled you onto his lap and gently kissed down your face. "I meant what I said before, kitten. You're mine. You were made for me and only me. I'll take care of you if you let me." He kissed you softer than he ever had and moved to place you gently on the bed. He covered you with a blanket and stood to dress himself.

You cried out his name as you spasmed around him, your release washing over you and soaking his cock in your wetness. Your head was reeling and your vision blurred as you fell forward, your arms shaking to support you. Sylus pushed on your back and let you relax against the cool fabric as he continued to use you to chase his own orgasm. Your mouth fell open, drool wetting the sheets as you lay there boneless. Sylus chuckled darkly as he listened to your exhausted panting. You twitched as Sylus' thrusts continued to shoot pleasure through you. Each slam of his hips was like an electric jolt of pleasure. "I'm gonna cum inside you, my little bird. You're gonna be so full of me." He grunted. All you could was whimper and nod weakly against the sheets. You moaned his name as you felt his hot cum spill inside you, mixing with your own. His hips stuttered and slowed to a stop, his large body collapsing on top of yours, crushing you into the mattress.

Tossing his blazer over his shoulder, he dropped money on the edge of the bed. Your eyes widened at the amount, more than he had ever paid you before. "Sylus..."

"I'll be back in 3 days. Think about my offer, kitten. I'm getting tired of waiting for you to realize you belong to me...."

[tobesolnelyx]

Absolutely adore your daddy Shauna shipman fratboy and wanted to raise you an idea higher? Please don’t feel the need to answer this if you are busy but…what about fratboy daddy Shauna shipman who decideds she’s into hockey one day. We already know that Shauna is faster than anybody on the soccer team (it’s stated in a few episodes) so what if Shauna gets invited to a game one day and reader decideds that’s it’s Shauna only outlet of fun (because Shauna gave up the frat parties and so on) so reader goes with Shauna and the little tyke goes as well. Reader sits in the pews and watches Shauna as she played hockey. I’m thinking it’s ice hockey. Maybe Shauna gets noticed by the team scout and at first she doesn’t care but she also realizes that this paired with her scholarship could get her into the door of making good money one day day for you and the baby.

I am just imagining hockey daddy Shauna shipman who decides it’s good look to get a snuggle from the baby beforehand, and perhaps a little something from you in the locker room. 🤔Again absolutely love your work! And I know how busy you are so if you don’t feel inclined to write I would just love your thoughts on this instead. Not sure if you assign anons, is 🖋️ taken by any chance? Also I love the thought of Shauna being a broody writer and just writing the absolute best poetry about the baby and her new life. Perhaps Shauna even proposes-yes she’s insane-impulsive, it’s heat of thw moment-not thinking clearly because she barley even has a ring, or money for one-she’s a broke college student but she has a rubber band-and a good speech-and you literally have her baby in your arms so-maybe Shauna does propose after a hockey game and reader is like, 🤯

hi anon!! 🖋️ isn’t taken! LOVE THE IDEA cause i used to play hockey so let’s gather thoughts, ideas and i’ll think how to put it all together in a one shot :D also, it reminds me of the alchemy by taylor swift

slight NSFW - MDNI

so, you definitely need some money to play hockey. not so cheap sport. let’s say that lottie invited her for a quick play to finally get out of the house and do something different than just changing diapers.

so she goes, you have to convince her, cause she’s grumbling that she doesn’t need that. she’s already way too busy with playing soccer. she wants to have more time with you and the kid, c’mon :( so yeah, overall, she’s not a big fan of this idea

but she goes when you say you go and take your baby. they would be around 2 years old, let’s say. enough for her to carry the kiddo whole way there. she’s such a good dad cmawnn

she’s resigned from any parties and stuff, soccer is practically routine for her so she doesn’t even remember how to have fun. ofc, she loves you and your baby, but she started neglecting herself. you notice, so obviously you’re trying to encourage her to do something, anything.

ending up with shauna liking hockey way too much. she’ll shake her head and say it’s stupid when you ask her, but you see it. she’s going through the field like it’s second nature, cheeks flushed, laughing like she laughs only with her woman and kid. you sit there, watching her, little one on your lap, babbling and shouting something at shauna, giggling anytime she waves at the two of you :(

“oh god,” you laugh softly when she comes to you after the game. hairs are sticking to her forehead, she’s all red and sweaty. she leans to press messy kiss to your lips, taking baby from you. “you look…”

“like shi…” she starts, but then she catches herself, pressing lips in a thin line.

“happy, i thought happy,” you snort, kissing her cheek. she rolls her eyes, saying it’s just a stupid game, but she practically buzzes with energy. and now she’s just a energetic kid herself.

after another game or two, scout notices her and makes an offer. she’s athletic, fast as hell after years of playing soccer. you can always polish technique, right? she seems great. and of course, she declines. “sorry, im already too busy, got my own family,” she says gathering her bag. some people would kill for that offer, and she walks away. just like that.

so when scout realizes that she goes to you, they immediately decide to approach you next time. so maybe you can talk to her about it.

and you do! late at night, when kid is asleep, baby monitor humming softly in the background. she caress your thigh, reading her book, kissing your neck occasionally. you’re in this pretty night gown she bought you for your birthday, while she’s spread here only in her boxers and sport bra.

“baby?” you decide to give it a try, she hums in response, eyes still glued to the pages so you turn to her. you gently put her book away, leg wrapping around her, while she automatically pulls you closer. her head lands in the crook of her neck, so you scratch her scalp.

“what is it?” she asks finally, her fingers wanders, going down to grip your thigh. it’s all so soft, so warm. like she’s worshipping you. you thought that settling down when it comes to shauna is impossible, but here she is.

you think for a moment, gathering your thoughts and wondering how to even start this topic, you already know what she’ll say. but still shauna is smart and logic arguments should convince her.

“you know,” you start, feeling her lips on your collarbone. she tires to distract you, like she know what you’re going to say. “going into hockey wouldn’t be…that stupid.” you murmur, caressing her messed up hair.

her kisses goes on your shoulder, arm, forearm until she finally reaches your palm. “i don’t have time for this,” she says and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“you could go for it instead of soccer,” you continue, arguments forming in your head.

“yeah?” she snorts like it’s a ridiculous idea. she smoothly moves on top of you, settling down between your legs. you wrap arms around her, holding her in place as if there’s need for that. she doesn’t even think about pulling away.

“im being serious,” you say fidgeting with her hair. “you seem to be happy on the field…”

“yeah, and i have duties, too, my love,” she says a little amused, cutting you off and finally looking up at you. “i have a girlfriend and baby at home, i can’t…”

“you could earn money. way more money than in soccer team,” you blur out before she can finish her sentence. your fingers unconsciously tightens in her hair, but she doesn’t seem to notice. she blinks at you. once. twice.

“what?” she furrows her brows, finally getting serious.

“i talked with that scout,” you admit, her jaw slightly tenses so you start rubbing her neck. something that always seems to soothe her down. “he said that scholarship combined with playing hockey could be…beneficial. it could be enough to stop asking parents for money.”

she goes quiet. for a moment she just study your face, processing everything. “just think about it,” you add softly, your hands slides on her jaw. you pull her closer to prep her face with kisses. she hums, but doesn’t pull back. “you don’t have to answer now, but promise me, you’ll think about it.”

she groans, and you know, she’s already defeated. she collapses on you, nuzzling her nose in your neck and inhaling deeply. “whatever,” she mumbles but you know better.

thinking about shauna who finally start playing and gets fixated on the idea of dragging you and the baby to every game. she smiles the whole time, pointing at you two, making stupid gestures, only to scoop the baby at the end of the game.

when the baby is at grandparents house, and it’s a game day, you insist of sucking her off in the locker room. more complex version of good luck kiss.

shauna, who propose to you after few games, buzzing with energy and enthusiasm. she doesn’t really think about it, she just do it. she wants to finally call you her wife and she doesn’t give a fuck about how she’s going to do it. she just drops to both of her knees, almost begging you in front of all those people. crying, even.

she’s a part time writer, scrabbling poetry in her journal. sometimes she leaves it open on the kitchen counter. you don’t know if she does that on purpose so you can see or it’s accidental. but you pretend it’s just allergy when she finds you later, crying in your bedroom.

“i just love you so much,” you whisper when she wraps her arms around you. and it’s enough for her.

[radishpasta]

Hiii😭 okay so this is my first everrr fanfic and i obviously had to write about Sevika!!

Please give me some advice & critiques (but not too mean, I will cry:’c) and if people like it I’ll post more:3

Sevikas been your co worker at a convenience store for about 5 months, and even with your age gap, her being in her forties and you in your early twenties, it’s like you’ve been friends for years, she’s so honest and blunt about everything, you can ask and talk about anything with her. One night, you and her were working the night shift and barely anyone was coming in so you two were mostly goofing off. She leaned against the counter listening to you go on and on about your dorky interests.

“Yeah I don’t know, it’s the stupidest thing, probably why I haven’t kissed anyone.” You laugh at yourself and how pathetic it sounds to not have kissed anyone at 23. But Sevika pauses and stares at you dumbfounded.

“You’ve never kissed anyone?!” She starts to laugh, a loud, mocking laugh. She’s practically wiping away tears from how hard she’s laughing at you.

You regret ever mentioning it the moment you saw her eyes go wide and a small smirk forming on her lips. “Jeez! Alert the whole town why don’t you!” You can feel your whole face heating up and turn away from her, dying to escape this hell.

“I shouldn’t have told you, just forget I said anything.” You shake your head and go to walk away but Sevika grabs your arm and pulls you back to where you were with ease.

“I wasn’t judging you sweetheart,” she begins, her voice low and rough, “I’m just curious how a pretty girl like you can go all these years without being kissed.” She stares down at you, a soft smile playing on her lips.

You stare up at her for a moment before looking away, the way she’s looking at you makes your heart beat faster. “I- I don’t know,” you shrug, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, trying to avoid making eye contact with her. “I guess I was just too busy for romance…” You mumble, eyes nervously flicking up to her.

“Too busy huh?” She cocks her head and there’s a long pause as she looks at you, her gaze unreadable, then her smirk turns into a wide grin. “you’re not too busy right now.” She says bluntly, studying your face as it turns a bright red at her words.

“Wha-“ a nervous chuckle escapes your mouth, “well no I’m- I’m not, it’s jus-“ Sevika interrupts you, “You don’t wanna kiss me? That’s okay.” She shrugs and turns away but you reach out and grab her wrist, and Sevikas a big and sturdy woman, you could never move her even if you wanted to. But you pull her back so easily.

“No I would love to kiss you!” You blurt out, and then immediately getting embarrassed at how loud and fast you said that. And Sevika doesn’t help as she slowly turns back around, a wide and mocking grin on her face. “Wow…, you would love to kiss me, huh?” She asks, keeping her gaze locked on you as she steps closer. “Oh shut up!” You cup your face with both hands, trying to hide your reddened face, but she laughs and grabs both your wrists, pulling them away from your face.

Her big and rough hand holds both your wrists in place, using her free hand she grabs your face and makes you look up at her.

You can feel your heart pound in your ears as she slides her hand to the back of your neck, and unknowingly you start to hold your breath, thoughts like “I should never have eaten those onion rings bro” are running in your mind, but the second Sevikas soft lips press against yours they all disappear.

She slowly starts to kiss you harder, deep and passionate, letting go of your wrist to slide her hand around your waist, pulling you closer. Her touch causes a shiver to run down your spine, and she pulls away for a second just to look at your flustered face and chuckles condescendingly, immediately kissing you again, more roughly as she slips her tongue into your mouth.

With your freed hands you wrap them around her neck, pressing your warm and needy body against hers. You can feel her hand run up underneath your shirt, stopping under your breast when you hear the door bell ringing and your eyes snap open, and both of you turn to look at a middle aged man standing there in a Hawaiian shirt and khakis, with his mouth agape.

“I- my car just, um, broke down and I was wondering if yall had a phone or could help fix it… but like I ca- I can come back late-“

Sevika immediately peals your arms off her, and practically ran to the door, mumbling something about helping him.

And you just stand there, staring at the door close as your legs wobble. You softly touch your wet and swollen lips, your mouth slightly open. You bite your bottom lip and turn around towards the bathroom, you can still taste her in your mouth, and can feel a dampness between your legs as you close the door behind you.

[fayelero]

Can I req Kirishima being insecure and afraid to show his s/o his dorm room after Hagakure said “If I found out my boyfriend had a room like this, I’d dump him.”

ⓘ 02. YOU LOVED IT ANYWAY !

⤷ FLUFF ﹫ kirishima eijiro x fem!reader ﹫ thanks for this cute req! sorry for delay lol. I love kiri <3

⚠︎ fluff, none .ᐟ.ᐟ

Eijiro Kirishima remembered the words like a kick to the stomach.

“If I found out my boyfriend had a room like this, I’d dump him.” Hagakure had said it with a laugh, tossing her invisible hand through the air like the sentence was nothing. A joke between friends during the usual tour of dorm rooms in first year. Everyone had gone around, showing off their space, giggling at Mineta’s tragic attempt at romance posters, marveling at Todoroki’s minimalist zen den. When it got to Kirishima’s room, it had been met with… well.

Silence.

Then the laugh.

He hadn’t said anything. Just chuckled along like it didn’t hit him square in the ribs.

He thought about that sentence more than he liked to admit.

And now, months later, with you as his girlfriend—his actual, unbelievably cool and amazing girlfriend—he still heard it. Like an echo stuck to his brain. Like it carved itself into the walls of his very manly, proudly red-and-black, poster-plastered room.

The truth was, he liked his space. The All Might posters from three different eras. The racks of protein powder lined up like collectibles. The bedspread that looked like it was designed for a sentient gym bag. It felt like him. But now that you existed in his life in this soft, warm, sunshine-on-his-skin way, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe it wasn’t enough.

Or worse—maybe it was too much.

You hadn’t seen his room yet. You’d hung out everywhere else: the common room, your dorm, the training grounds, outside the school on dates that made him feel like the luckiest man in all of Japan. But any time you’d hinted at seeing his space, he’d dodged. Shrugged. Thrown a towel over his shoulder and said, “Let’s go spar instead, babe!”

Until today.

You’d looked at him, wide-eyed and suspicious in that way that meant you knew something was up.

“Why can’t I come in, Eiji? Are you hiding something?”

“N-No!” His voice cracked. God, pull it together, man. “I just—It’s not clean! And uh—there’s stuff all over. Real chaotic in there, y’know?”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’ve seen Bakugo’s room. I can handle chaos.”

He panicked. “It’s—manlier chaos!”

You stepped closer, all cute and determined and making his knees go weak.

“Okay. So let me in.”

He flinched. “Baby, I—”

You raised an eyebrow and reached for the doorknob.

He didn’t stop you.

Couldn’t.

You were his girl. His woman, damn it. And he was a gentleman. If you wanted to walk straight into the source of his greatest dread, then so be it.

His doom came with a click of the door.

And you stepped in.

There was silence. The kind that made his heart threaten to break out of his ribcage.

You looked around. Slowly. Curiously. Like you were genuinely trying to take it all in.

He swallowed hard. “So, uh. This is—Look, I know it’s a bit much, and if you wanna go, I get it. It’s dumb. I’ve just always liked red and—those are my weights, obviously, and the All Might posters are from different arcs, like the Shizuoka era’s kind of underrated if you ask me—”

You turned toward him, brows scrunched. “What’s wrong with your room?”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“It’s nice in here.”

The world went quiet.

Like…earthquake-quiet. Mind-silencing quiet.

“You… like it?”

You nodded, walking over to one of the shelves and picking up a small, slightly scuffed dumbbell trophy with his name engraved. “It’s so you. I mean, look at this. It’s like stepping into your brain. Strong, determined, bright red, kind of chaotic but in a charming way. I love it.”

You loved it?

His jaw went slack.

And something inside him—some tightly wound, hidden place—unclenched. Not just relaxed. Melted.

He stepped forward, slowly, like he was approaching something sacred.

“Wait. You think it’s charming?”

You grinned at him. “Totally charming. I mean, this wall over here? That’s just… protein tubs and posters. It’s adorable. I love that you just went all in.”

He felt himself blush. Hard.

He rubbed the back of his neck, all bashful and flustered. “I-I didn’t think you’d—like, I thought maybe you’d find it too much.”

You sat on the edge of his bed, looking perfectly at home, and patted the space beside you. “Show me your favorite stuff.”

And just like that, he lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Okay! So—this over here, this is my first real lifting belt. Got it when I was thirteen. Still keep it around for luck. And this—okay, this is a signed photo of Crimson Riot. My uncle waited in line with me for four hours to get this. Worth it.”

He watched your eyes sparkle as he spoke, and it made something giddy flutter in his chest.

“And here,” he said, nearly breathless with excitement, “this is my punching log. Like, where I record how many reps I do daily and try to beat my own records. I know it’s kinda dorky but—”

“That’s not dorky,” you interrupted gently. “That’s really cool.”

You weren’t faking it. He could tell.

No judgement. No laughter. No Hagakure jokes. Just… pure, soft curiosity and care.

He wanted to pull you into his arms and never let go.

Instead, he sat next to you and let his hand brush yours. “I’ve never brought anyone in here before.”

You tilted your head, smile sweet. “Not even Bakugo?”

He snorted. “Okay, yeah, he’s been in here. But he called my dumbbell rack a shrine to fragile masculinity and walked out.”

You burst into laughter, and God, it was the best sound.

“I’m glad you let me in, Eiji,” you said softly after a beat, leaning your head on his shoulder.

He didn’t reply right away.

He just smiled, full and slow, like the warmth in his chest was too big to fit.

Maybe his room wasn’t for everyone.

But it was for you.

And that was all he needed.

You stood in the middle of the room like a storm of gentleness. Turning slowly, curiously, fingertips grazing his shelves, pausing at the corner where his sparring gloves hung like old friends. Your eyes lingered on the mini Crimson Riot figurine stuck between two protein tubs like he lived there rent-free. You weren’t laughing. You weren’t judging. You were genuinely interested.

Kirishima didn’t say a word at first.

He just stood there. Watched you.

And something swelled in his chest that nearly knocked the air from his lungs.

You were smiling at his weird little keepsakes. Tilting your head at his handmade “Manly Motivations” board taped to the inside of his closet door. Running your hand over the worn edges of the lifting belt he never had the heart to retire.

He’d spent days worrying you’d hate this room. That it was too much—too loud, too rough around the edges, too red. But now, watching you in it?

You were perfect here.

You fit.

You weren’t some dainty porcelain girl afraid of his rugged edges. You walked right into his world and sank into it like it was warm water and safe hands. Like this place, with all its loudness and loyalty, felt like home.

And the proudest, softest smile broke across his face.

You turned toward him just then, holding up a cracked old keychain shaped like a tiny dumbbell. “This is so you,” you said, eyes shining.

He laughed. “Yeah? You like it?”

“I like all of it,” you replied. “It’s real. And you’re real. That’s why I love it here.”

He stepped closer, slow and sure, eyes never leaving your face.

There were a thousand things he could’ve said. Something charming, something teasing, maybe even a dumb joke to break the tension rising in his chest like a balloon on fire.

But instead, he reached out gently and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You really mean that?” he asked, voice lower now. A little rougher.

You looked up at him, right into his eyes. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

Something in him melted. Just crumbled under the weight of your kindness.

He wanted to scream into his pillow. He wanted to lift 300 pounds with one arm. He wanted to thank every single version of himself for somehow becoming the guy lucky enough to have you in his life.

But instead, he leaned down and kissed you. Slow and soft and so full of love he almost laughed through it.

When he pulled back, his voice was a little unsteady. “You know, I was scared you’d walk in here and think I was just… too much.”

You grinned, eyes sparkling. “You are too much.”

His stomach dropped—until you added:

“But that’s exactly what I love about you.”

His heart flipped over like a clumsy gymnast. He couldn’t stop smiling if he tried.

He grabbed your hand and gave it a little squeeze. “Wanna stay for a bit? I can tell you about the time I accidentally dropped a protein tub on Kaminari’s foot and he cried for thirty straight minutes.”

You laughed, bright and sweet. “Only if you show me every Crimson Riot collectible you own.”

He puffed his chest a little. “Deal.”

And as you sat beside him on the edge of his bed, legs swinging slightly, attention rapt as he pointed to each little piece of his world like it mattered — he felt it deep in his bones:

He didn’t just love you.

He adored you.

Not just because you accepted his space.

But because you looked at him — all of him — and never once asked him to be anyone else.

[vaiyamagic]

Vi rereads Elfquest, SaBM issue #4

Look. Right there. For a moment Rayek was willing to believe and wanting to comfort what he saw as a mother who lost her child. Even if it wasn't his. And then she goes and lies, and he blows up. I think, if she had instead thanked him for his sympathy and assured him she would be fine, none of what followed because if it would have happened.

I'm not blaming Kahvi for the destruction of the GoBacks, that was Rayek's decision alone, but she also didn't exactly help the situation.

This is also purely the in-universe reaction, and not making commentary on the writing, which is a completely different issue.

See? We should have seen more of this! Three years of Two-Edge and Ekuar becoming friends. It would have been nice to see.

I also wonder if this is a common troll game, if Two-Edge made it up, or if Ekuar did.

Rayek. Can you not make sweeping statements about an entire culture just because you had a disagreement with one of them, please?

I do really like this outfit, but I wonder who made it for him. A GoBack tailor of some kind, unless he made it himself. Or Ekuar, but that's unlikely. And where they got such bright colors. GoBacks don't usually go for the bright yellows and reds.

No wonder Trinket latched on to Ekuar as a second "Papa." Ekuar should be a babysitter.

I actually don't remember if Aroree ever finds out that she didn't actually kill Kureel. Can you imagine, after she settles with the Wolfriders later during KotBW, and she mentions it, and Strongbow's like, *What? No, I'm the one who killed him.* and the momentary confusion that comes from that.

(Obviously, not if I'm wrong and she does find out later and I just don't remember.)

There's that reference for Clearbrook's daughter that we never learn more about again. I wonder if Wendy forgot it was Clearbrook's and Cresent was supposed to be hers instead of Strongbow and Moonshade. I guess we'll never know.

That is a pet rabbit. Is it Suntop or Ember's? Is it Leetah's? Or is it for dinner later?

This is from Leetah's nightmares that she started getting after she touched minds with Winnowill. I just never noticed the Voll skull before and thought it was interesting.

I still don't know why they didn't stay with the Hoan G'tay Sho when Olbar banished them. Also, who makes the symbols now that she's left? They ask her if she's come to make symbols again for them, so, maybe nobody?

To be continued

[fluffypurpleglitterdemon]

What do you mean Fangxin was the other Evil Master?!

[aalghul]

"claiming any writer ever intended to write that jason was sexually assaulted as a child is stealing from mia" is still one of the most ridiculous takes i have ever seen. by the way

[shouts-into-the-void]

Nevermore Fastpass Spoilers ‼️

I wonder if it's really that Montresor's deal is binding for Berenice, or if she just has lingering guilt over going along with Egaeus murdering Sterling that's manifesting into fear and anxiety that she would be willing to hurt the people she loves.

Because while we are shown a flash of her shaking Monty's hand, you have to remember that length of time from when she makes that deal to the time she's hallucinating is about 2 days and she spent most of it looking for Duke. It would absolutely make sense for her to be recalling the situation and having anxiety over it now that she has a moment to breath (even though they're running from The Wild Hunt, they're kind of in a slow moment)

We see in the flashback of her death that Berenice dies because she runs out in front of a car, and the guy who hit her is telling the responding officer that she was extremely drunk and behaving erratically. I'm wondering if she went off the deep end due to the stress over the murder, and now that she's manifested, she's remember what happened which is bringing up those feelings.

I find it hard to believe that Montresor would have such an OP ability, especially one not listed as one if his abilities in his Spectre introduction. I also don't think he knows about it if it *is* given that his reaction when Berenice betrays their deal and that he's a little preoccupied with Wiltosis atm.

[kacievvbbbb]

I like to think that on some level Shanks is just a little upset (Beckman knows the truth; that he is deeply, simmeringly, furious) at the unfairness and hypocrisy that is Mihawk still wanting to fight Zoro.

That he still thinks Zoro’s going to be his greatest challenger- the one to usurp his throne, that even though he’s down an eye, even though they are both “lacking”. Zoro is somehow still worthy of Mihawk’s attention when Shanks has been judged and found wanting.

Shanks lost an arm, and they still can’t talk about it, and Mihawk still won’t fight him, but he’ll fight Zoro. Trained Zoro. And he knows it’s not the same, he doesn’t even want the title, doesn’t want to be Mihawk’s “destiny”. He knows that he’s being childish but Mihawk started it and it’s not fair.

[merakiorder]

thinking about how the showrunners said red is used sparingly "when there's a bit of real love". thinking about how the down arrow on the exports hall elevator is red. thinking about Mark Scout, his suit stained with blood, kissing his wife. Thinking about Helly's face when the flashing blues and greens suddenly turn red. Thinking about Milchick, alone in the bathroom, staring at himself in the red lights. Thinking about the blood staining Lorne's face as she holds Emile, no longer a sacrifice. Thinking about Mark S standing on the precipice of sacrifice, the muted reds flashing against the door to the stairwell where Gemma cries out to him. Thinking about him turning around to those strobing-red halls to Helly waiting for him. Thinking about Gemma watching him turn around and walk back into that red. Thinking about Helly's red hair.

[grahamcarmen]

Anyway it's a " gray should have made out with carmen at the Himalayas" day