#and then getting out of the car. like that Changed Me

[landoughnut]

Pit Stop Staring

♡ masterlist - request - emoji anons

♡ pairing - lando norris x mechanic!fem!reader

♡ summary - lando notices you during a pit stop, gets distracted and stares at you, and embarrasses himself on the radio being aired as he gushes over you, but with a little push from Zak, he makes his move on you!

♡ warnings - fluff, BLUSHY and nervous lando, love at first sight, a pinch of jealousy, Zak's a wing man, lando being cute and STUTTERINGGG hehehe

♡ w/c & a/n - 1.86k | #ilovetommy

Today was your first day working as a mechanic during an actual race, and you couldn't be more excited. You'd just finished your months of training and you felt pretty confident in yourself, so you weren't too nervous.

The McLaren team was more than welcoming when you first started, although some were a little apprehensive to have a girl working with the heavy tires, you proved them completely wrong and quickly gained their admiration, making friends with some as well.

As for the two papaya drivers, you had only briefly met Oscar about a month ago while leaving a meeting. He told you he was happy to be working with you soon, and he thought you will do amazing. You spoke shortly before he was being called off by someone, but he said goodbye and wished you best of luck.

The other driver, Lando, you had unfortunately not met yet. You heard quite a lot about him, and people said he was kind with a great sense of humor, so you crossed your fingers and wished you were able to catch him and introduce yourself. You also had seen some edits of him on your feed, not that you would tell anyone that, but you couldn't deny that he was quite a looker.

Back to today, though, you were waiting to see the bright papaya cars pull into the pit stop for their tire exchanges. After some laps, the first one to pull up was Oscar, and you and the others quickly got to work with a successful change in just about 2 seconds.

You beamed as he drove away and got a high five from your mechanic friend, Tommy, and he grinned at you, "That was great! And your first time too! You'll be putting me out of my job soon," he laughs.

You shake your head and poke his side, walking back to the garage, "Don't be silly! I did learn from the best," you say and give him a dramatic wink.

"Ha. Ha. You flatter me," he pats your head. You just push his arm away and turn your head to look at the race stats.

Oscar is in a good fourth place currently, and Lando in second, four seconds behind Max. You watch the race for about three more minutes before you hear that Lando was told to box next lap, so you and the mechanics rush out to the pit once again and prepare your gear.

A few moments pass before you can spot Lando's bright helmet in his car coming closer. He finally arrives and pulls up into his spot, while doing so, he glances around and his eyes land on you.

His mouth drops open slightly and he whispers a little, "Wow." Everyone does his tire change just as fast as Oscars, but Lando was still staring at you, who he thinks might be an angel sent down from above just for him.

Wow, he thinks to himself again, you have to be the most gorgeous person he's ever seen. He doesn't even realize that everyone has cleared the way for him to exit the stop until he sees you tilt your head and he hears his race engineer's voice, "Lando! GO! What are you doing, mate?!"

That snaps Lando back to reality, and he quickly drives away, now in last place due to how long he was there. He feels his neck and cheeks heat up in embarrassment. There's no way he would have a chance with you after that.

"I-I'm so sorry, she was s-so beautiful, and she looks like an a-angel, I-I got distracted," he stutters quietly to Will, his race engineer.

"Oh my- Lando this is being aired, you can't say stuff like that, mate!" Will sighs but he can't help but laugh a little bit. However Lando does the opposite now, he chews his lip like he's about to cry of humility, since now he knows you just heard him say that and you were the only girl there, so you know he had to be talking about you.

Back to where you were, you laughed at the radio message, curious to who he was stuttering over. Tommy's eyes bulge as he hears it, head whipping toward you.

You look at him and furrow your eyebrows, "What?"

He just blinds at you before yelling, "Lando Norris said you're beautiful! And look like an angel!"

"What? No he didn't?"

"Are you- who else would he be talking about?!" Tommy puts his hands on your shoulder and gently shakes you.

"Uhh," you laugh and glance at the other mechanics who are smirking and you and raising their eyebrows up and down. "I don't know, there are some women team members right over there," you point to the side.

Tommy just drops his head down and shakes it, "No. He was talking about you!"

"But.. I'm.. well, me? Just an average new mechanic," you look down at your uniform, "in some very unflattering working clothes."

Tommy just steps back and crosses his arms, "First off, don't ever say you're 'just you', because you're my best friend here," he whispers, so the others won't hear him, and you giggle. "Second, the clothes may be a little unflattering but you're still a very pretty girl," he smiles at you.

"Awhhhhh, Tommy! Who knew you were such a sap!" You hug the boy in thanks and he reciprocates it as you walk to the garage once again.

"So are you going to ask him out later?"

You almost choke on your breath, "What? No! Of course not! Are you crazy?"

He rolls his eyes, "Come on, he was just stuttering. Lando Norris was stuttering over you, if that isn't love at first sight then I don't know what is," he shrugs.

"Tommy!" You slap his arm, "We are done with this conversation."

"But-"

"End of discussion!" You huff, turning on your heels and walk away. Leaving your friend to rub his face in defeat.

When the race ended with Lando placed seventh due to the mishap from before, he hopped out of the car and rushed over to Zak.

Zak pulls the boy in for a hug and ruffles his hair, which was quite the opposite reaction Lando had thought he would see, since he cost the team points.

Once he lets go of Lando, the only thing he gets out of his mouth is, "Who was that?"

Zak lets out a laugh and tries to keep in a grin, "Who? Her?" he nods over to you, standing while chatting with Tommy again. Lando frowns as he watches you two.

"Are they dating?" he asks the older man.

"Hmm," he pretends to think about it, "yes," he nods. Of course he's only kidding, trying the get a rise out of the British boy.

"What?" Lando's head snaps to the man, looking utterly devastated. Zak starts laughing loudly, looking at him, and thinks this is what the human version of a kicked puppy would look like.

"I'm only joking, buddy, why don't you go and ask her?" Zak pats Lando's shoulder.

"U-uh I don't know...."

"Oh, come on! You're Lando Norris!"

The boy sighs and looks at you longingly. That was until you glanced over at him and he quickly turned back to Zak, his face now turning red again at being caught. "What about no work relationships?"

Zak sighs and shakes his head, "Listen, I'll talk to people about it and I'll make it work, okay?" He smiles and Lando lets his lips twitch into a tiny smile. "Now, go get your girl!" He turns his shoulders and pushes him forward a little bit.

Lando blinks fast and his heart races as he nervously makes his way over to you two.

You don't notice but Tommy does and bites back a teasing comment. "Lando Norris! The legendary man himself!"

You look to your right and see the boy bouncing slightly on his feet, twisting his hands and he looks back and forth between you both. "H-hi," he whispers to you, his ears turning red at your kind gaze.

"Hi! It's nice to finally meet you," you smile at him.

Tommy nods, "Yeah, and nice radio message today, man, real smooth," he chuckles.

Unbeknownst to you, Lando now wishes the floor would swallow him whole. "Uh, y-yeah, thanks?"

Tommy just laughs, "Oh! I think someone is calling me, gotta go!"

You watch him walk away, and Lando glares at him. "Did you hear someone calling him?" you ask.

"No, but, um, I-I'm sorry for today, a-and I didn't-"

You quickly shake your head and smile, "No! Don't apologize, really! I'm honored!" You put your hand on his arm, causing him to tense. You quickly remove it and apologize, "I'm so sorry! I should have asked-"

"N-No!" Lando says, and Zak drops his head into his hands as he watches the scene from afar. "You can touch me anytime! I-I mean- bloody hell- n-not like that! I mean you can if you wa-" he slaps a hand over his mouth before he can embarrass himself and more.

You just blush as you watch the boy, you find it endearing, to be honest, you've never had someone act like this with you before. "Lando! Please, don't worry, I think your rambling is cute, and... you yourself are cute too," you put your hands behind your back.

"Me? Really? You think I'm c-cute?" He lets out a nervous laugh in disbelief.

"Is that so hard to believe?" You frown.

"I... guess not.. but you're.. you! W-way out of my league..." he trails off.

"You have to be joking!"

He just looks down at his feet and smiles, his body slowly untensing as he feels a little less nervous. It's not that he's stuttering and blushing because he's scared of you, he's just never met someone so... perfect.

He slowly raises his eyes back up to look at you, "Well... then would you m-maybe want to... get dinner with me later?"

Your smile widens at the hopeful look in his eyes, you pinch your arm once, just to be sure this is really happening and not a dream. "Of course! Oh, I'd love to, would you like my number to send me the details?" you ask him.

He nods and pats his pocket for his phone, "Oh! I left my phone in my driver's room... but if you have yours, I'll give you mine?"

"Sure," you nod and hand him your phone, watching as he creates a contact for himself. "Well, I do have to go back, I promised my friends to hang out for a bit after the race but I'll see you later," you tell him.

He smiles at you, "Alright, see you!"

You turn around, walking to your friends who were giggling to themselves, watching the whole thing.

Lando is left in his spot, practically lovestruck, "What a woman," he whispers to himself dreamily.

He jumps with a yelp when he feels a hand on his shoulder, "Well done, kid! You got yourself a date!"

Lando turns to look at a way too excited Zak Brown, "Yeah... I suppose I did."

[maxriss]

༘⋆MORE THAN AN AFTERTHOUGHT — LN4

Lando Norris x Reader / est. relationship / library

Syn. The world sometimes made you feel left out — especially your friends recently — but for for Lando you’re more than just an afterthought.

I used to think friendships had a rhythm, a pattern you could always fall back into. But now, sitting at that dinner table, I realized I was the only one out of sync.

It all began when I noticed the silence that hovered over our dinner table conversations. One friend was completely ignoring my presence, while plans were being made with the person I hated the most, all without acknowledging that I existed at all.

I was in my room, cleaning away my anxiety and the hollow pit in my stomach at the thought of encountering them again the next day when my phone vibrated on my nightstand. Ting!

Lan 🧡 : so have you picked one yet?

The screen blinked Lando's name and he replied to my previous text of thinking of watching a movie. His name seemed like an echo back of my helpless screams. His presence a lifeline almost. I hadn’t even thought of it since watching my friends’ video on the group.

I’d come back from home recently after being gone 15 days and this change felt sudden yet right around the corner. I knew my friends weren’t the best of the lot — this still stung way too much than I’d liked.

Making friends hasn’t been my strong suit, and finally having a group felt like a stepping stone into the real world. Yet, my world felt lonesome this evening. All of it, all of the dreams of having a happening friend group the one with wine and pasta to enjoy, making ppts to catch up on and going for brunches suddenly seemed irritable and far out of reach.

A solemn sigh heeded my fingers typing away a response.

Me : no I don’t feel like watching one

This time he didn’t respond right away. I almost half-wished to unsend the text. Instead, his name flashed bright along with a picture of us as he called me. My heart beat almost a bit faster at this. A warmth peeked out in my chest. Hearing his voice did marvels.

“Hey Lan” I began. Fingers nibbling at the crocheted flower on the desk mindlessly.

“What happened?” Lando’s voice dripped worry and urgency. “What’s wrong? Okay, tell me exactly what happened.” His voice was warm but serious, none of his usual teasing in it.

I wavered, then breathed out. “I don’t know. It’s just… ever since I got back, they’ve been different. Hanging out without me, making jokes I don’t get, acting like I wasn’t even there before.” My voice lingered despite my best effort to sound mellow. “I feel like I don’t belong anymore.”

Lando was quiet for a few before I could hear an indistinct rustling in the back ensued by the tinkling of what seemed his car keys.

“Lan—”

“First of all, that’s bullshit.” He concluded. A small laugh escaped me. “Your friends are being shit. As simple as that.” He emphasised bitterly. I didn’t have anything to refute and to be honest yeah, they were being shit. “You deserve better.”

“I don’t have any other options.” I thought out loud.

“You have me.” He chimed.

“I know I do Lan,” I smiled softly glancing at the Polaroid of the two of us in Miami. The one we clicked at night after Lando won his first race in F1. It was flawless the two of us in our pyjamas watching Shrek eating kinder maxis. It was perfect. “You’re not here right now.”

“Not yet.”

“What-”

“Better pick the movie babe, see you in a few”

And with that, the line went dead. I swore I heard a car door shut before that.

───── · ·

It was an hour later when a knock at the door woke me up from my reverie, the customary chaotic knock only one person did — Lando. I skipped to the door beaming ear to ear opening it to find him there. Quadrant hoodie and joggers, smile mirroring my own with a bag in hand.

“Hey baby,” he said into my hair, hushed by my hug. I only hugged him tighter. His smell was a familiar canoe.

He came into my apartment and went on to place the bag on the counter pulling out bags of popcorn and soda and, of course, a few kinder maxis as well. “Pick the movie babe?” He asked while opening the popcorn into a bowl.

I stood by the door leaning against the frame watching Lando merely exist. The way he would show up selflessly making home in whatever feeling I was in — not trying to puzzle out things but only standing by me through everything. Knowing I’d find my own way. He showed up and that’s what mattered.

I bee lined up to Lando hugging him from behind. A surprised sigh was breathed out of him. My hands splayed on his chest feeling his heartbeat in the sun with mine. He turned out with a chuckle to look at me. His hands intertwine around my body as well. I looked up at him, his eyes dipped in crescents. “I love you” I breathed out.

“I love you more.”

The thing about Lando was — he never made me feel like an afterthought in a world where I’d find myself in the footnotes.

reblog and follow <3 all rights reserved ©maxriss please do not copy, save, or translate my stories. this is no place for hate and violence, kindly maintain love and peace.

[lukolathoughts]

The ship that hasn't sunk...yet

Picture this it is night time on a gentle, rolling sea. The night is starry and bright. The moon illuminates a lone majestic ship, as she glides seamlessly through the calm waters of some unknown sea, black in it's vastness. The ship is so beautiful, that all passengers glory in it's pride and resplendence. They are proud to be aboard. The crew stand in unison at the bow to watch the calm sea, as the ship drifts on. There had been some choppy waters earlier in the week, but alas most passengers had stayed aboard unperturbed, waiting hopefully for the final destination.

Suddenly, BOOM like an incoming missile, an explosion creates a massive hole in the starboard side. The ship rocks violently, teetering to one side. Passengers and crew scream and cry in confusion as their bodies are thrown mercilessly in all directions. The ship begins to take on water.

I frantically get to my feet, holding my head, my hair in disarray. What in the holy hell was that? Someone thrusts a pair of binoculars in my hand. I am afraid to look. As chaos reigns all around me, I reluctantly lift the binoculars to my tired eyes. And do a double take.

"Jesus H Roosevelt Christ!" I exclaim, echoing the sentiments of Claire Fraser. "It cannot be..."

"It is ZG!" My second in command shrieks. "It's the USS Lutonia!"

I suddenly here a dum, dum, dum ringing in my ears like screeching static. My feet wobble on the unsteady deck and I look again.

It is none other than the USS Lutonia anchored some distance away like some forgotten tomb that rose from the depths of the sea.

"But it's just sitting there, number two!" I bark at my petrified second in command. "What is it doing?"

"I don't know ZG! It doesn't seem right..."

The USS Lutonia seems out of sorts. One side is sequestered in a unnerving darkness I do not recognise, the brown vines creeping eerily around the exterior of the ship in a sleek camouflage. The interior seems unstable and not matching the exterior of the ship. The two sides seemed to be at odds. Money had been spent on the exterior, but the interior is drab and second-hand in comparison. Trying to be something it is not. The smoking cannons are clearly visible.

As I look on dismally at the USS Lutonia, some passengers start to jump overboard. I scream to the crew to lock down the bulkheads to stop the USS Lukola taking on water. In the background, the mournful lament of Nearer my God to Thee starts playing yet again and I run over to the band, snatch the violin from one guy and chuck it overboard. I then slap his face. "Get a grip, for Gods sake man!" I holler and elbow the cellist in the ribs. "I've had enough of this shit!"

I then stomp down to the massive hole in the ship's starboard side with my crew and start the painful task of yet again patching it up. Anyone got any tape? In the end, the impact wasn't lasting. Friday I sleep.

Well guys, what a week. If June 13th hurt, this one again was a steamroller. Forget about the USS Jakola, that one is dead. Currently, sitting on the ocean floor making small talk with the Titanic. The USS Lutonia is seemingly back and bolder than ever. Or is it? I know that a plethora of other bloggers have been over this now thoroughly, but I wanted to throw in my pennie's worth.

A few weeks ago, I touched on Nicola's motorbike ride of death to Graham Norton's studio on 13th December 2024. I outlined the reasons I suspect it was a complete PR stunt, including the fact it was recorded by her PR company and released to their Instagram page. The reasons why are debatable and ambiguous, but you won't change my opinion on this unless I see footage of Nicola being whizzed through the streets of London, or at least footage of her driving off up the road on the back of the bike. In my opinion it is contrived bullshit.

Skip ahead to last Thursday 30th January where my quiet evening was hijacked by none other than Luke and Antonia emerging from a car at David Beckham's Boss event. I had touched on the Tower in my previous blogs and I had done a Celtic cross on Antonia, that I had released on you tube the day before. Sadly, the first card out in Antonia's current situation was the emperor - my card for Luke. Everyone heard my gasp and I though oh shit, but I decided to press on. Her advice from spirit was the three of swords. Let it go, let him go because there is always someone in the way. The external forces position was the the queen of cups - Nicola.

I am an empath as most of you know and what I saw from Luke last Thursday was something I had not seen since last year in the Sorrento photos. Darkness. It is something I hope to never see from him again, but I'm not that lucky. Nothing about that night made sense for me energetically. It's like a disjointed jigsaw puzzle I can't make sense of in my mind. This was further added to by the red carpet video I saw this week and the angry looks he gives Antonia. You can call me delulu, but I know what I see energetically as well as in body language and this is from the both of them. She looks petrified and unprepared and Luke just looks pissed off. If you watch his People interview and then this red carpet appearance, you might have a hard time thinking Luke is the same person.

This is an orchestrated PR stunt in my opinion. I was angry about the motorbike, but this takes the biscuit. I understand Luke's motivations, but I am still sad he felt he had to do this. I feel he pulled a 'Colin' and took matters into his own hands to fix a situation, much to the horror of his helpless PR company who have spent the last eight months trying to scrub any trace of him and Antonia from the face of the internet. It backfired badly and that is why my friends the USS Lukola is still afloat. Barely. I have found the silence this last week particularly suspicious, especially as it was Luke's birthday yesterday. Not a dickie bird from either Nicola or Antonia about the birthday boy. I am keeping a weary eye on the the anchored and ghostly USS Lutonia, silently lurking in the open waters as the USS Lukola regains passengers and tries to stop water leaking in.

There are many things I could list such as to why I think this was PR. The article from the Daily Mail that was released before the event and featured Antonia's bio heavily. Antonia seemed to be wearing an outfit from her own closet, her hair and makeup was not professionally done. She did not have her purse or phone inside the event. She has not posted about the event. Luke's odd behaviour, his refusal to put Antonia actually in his grid or stories. His liking spree last weekend of Nicola's posts and anything she is tagged in. The fact that he and Nic still often appear online together at the same time.

Another thing they seem to forget about us Lukola's, is that we have receipts and a lot of them going back months. I know full well where Antonia was for Christmas and New Year and I'm telling you, it was not with Luke Newton. She did seem to appear cosy with some other male dancers in the Maldives though, just saying.

So we will wait and we will watch quietly. We also have the hilarity of Nicola's audio book 'Misdirected' to keep us entertained on our deck sun loungers, sipping margaritas while the band plays upbeat tunes. Quite coincidental that Nicola's audiobook is called 'Misdirected' with all this misdirection going on at the moment, is it not?

[maretinelli]

UNTIL YOU LOVE ME

Lando Norris X Piastri!fem!reader

Summary: When Y/n is Oscar's older sister, she works at McLaren in the media and still has a thing with Lando. But she starts avoiding him when she sees videos of him with another woman on Instagram.

Words: 3.7K+

Warnings: Swear words, LOTS of suggestive words, NO BETRAYAL (I didn't want to put more in summary so as not to spoil the plot of the story, relax, no betrayal. Because I hate that), Y/n is Oscar's older sister, mentions of other pilots and Lily being a very sweet, understanding sister-in-law and best friend to Y/n.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. And as always, this story came from a song I was listening to while washing the dishes hahaha (??) ❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

"Since when does your sister speak Spanish?" Lando asks, leaning against the garage counter with his arms crossed. His gaze was fixed on Y/n near the track, talking to Franco.

Oscar, who was next to his teammate, looks up from his cell phone and sees his older sister talking to Franco, laughing and speaking in Spanish to the Argentine.

"Oh, since she started college. She had to take an extracurricular subject and chose Spanish." Oscar shrugs, turning his attention back to his cell phone.

Lando was still beside him, still leaning on the counter, his eyes fixed on Franco. He had a frown on his forehead, heavy breathing and a look as if he would jump for the pilot's neck.

Piastri then sighs and puts his cell phone in his pocket, nudging his friend's shoulder, making Lando look at him.

"Stop looking at him like that. Soon you'll be able to make him levitate in the air with just a look."

Lando rolls his eyes and uncrosses his arms, resting one hand on the counter behind him.

"She's still not talking to you?" Oscar asks, looking at his older sister and then at Lando.

He shakes his head. "No..."

"What about you? Did you at least try to explain yourself to her?" Oscar raises his eyebrows, waiting for Lando to say something.

"Obviously!" Lando says a little loudly. "I've been trying to talk to her in person and sending her messages for about three races now. But she ignores everything, making the excuse that she needs to sort out some things with the team."

Oscar chuckles softly, knowing that when his older sister didn't want to talk, she knew very well how to find a good excuse to get out of the situation.

"Trust me, you need to explain your side of the story, because... I know exactly what hell is going to happen next." He holds back a laugh and Lando's eyes widen a bit, turning his gaze to Y/n. "You need to tell her that the woman in your car in Monaco was-"

"Oscar!"

Before Oscar could finish speaking, Lily appeared in the garage with a sweet smile.

The Australian driver starts to take a few steps out of the garage and looks at Lando. "You need to talk to her!"

Lando smiles and nods.

Piastri grabs the rest of his things and turns towards where his sister was. "Y/n!! LET'S GO!" He shouts smiling and Y/n immediately turns towards her brother.

"OK! Wait for me in the car, I'll be there in a few minutes!"

Oscar just nods and holds his girlfriend's hand, who is waiting for him in the garage. The Australian looks at Lando and gestures with his hand, encouraging him to explain himself to his older sister.

Lando laughs and they leave the garage.

Since joining McLaren's media team, Y/n has always been close to Lando. They had an easy friendship, full of teasing and laughter, with a natural complicity that made even the mechanics joke that the two worked better together than many driver pairings.

But everything changed six months ago, after a GP that Lando won. The celebration in the paddock was intense, but what really stood out that night was the unexpected kiss that happened between them.

It was something spontaneous, impulsive and perfect.

After that kiss, something changed. They started meeting up outside of racing, seeing each other more often, wanting each other's company in their downtime.

At first, neither of them knew exactly what they were doing, but one thing quickly became clear: this wasn't just a phase or a hobby. Lando and Y/n never explicitly said they were dating, but they promised they wouldn't date anyone else until they figured out what that feeling meant to them.

The truth, however, was that they both already knew the answer. They were in love. They were loving.

Over time, the secret meetings became routine. Lando would take Y/n to Quadrant events, the two would spend nights relaxing in each other's apartments, watching movies or simply enjoying each other's company. Or maybe, it was just the sex.

Everything was away from the eyes of the media, away from any rumors or gossip. Only Oscar and Lily knew what was really going on between them.

But it all fell apart a few weeks ago.

She was in her apartment in Monaco, enjoying a quiet evening, when she decided to browse the internet without any commitments. That's when a video appeared on the screen, posted by some fan.

In the video, Lando was leaving a restaurant accompanied by an unknown woman. They seemed to be talking normally, until she got into his car and he drove away.

The shock was immediate.

A few hours earlier, Lando had even texted Y/n saying he would spend the night with her. And now, here he was, leaving a restaurant with another woman and giving her a ride.

Y/n's mind began to spin, remembering his words, the promise they made not to be with anyone else. Had he lied to her? Betrayed her trust?

Anger and disappointment came together.

At that moment, she made a decision. She canceled all future dates, started avoiding him at GPs, and whenever she had to interact with him for work, she kept everything strictly professional. She ignored all his messages, refused all attempts to talk, and even blocked his number.

But what Y/n didn't know was that it was all just a misunderstanding.

Lando hadn't dated anyone but her. The promise they made was still real to him. He hadn't dated anyone since the day she was announced to work at McLaren. God, he knew from that day that the Australian was the woman of his life.

And the woman in the video wasn't what she seemed, and he desperately needed to tell Y/n the truth before it was too late.

After finishing the conversation with Franco, Y/n walked to the garage again to grab her bag and go to where her brother was waiting. Lando took advantage of the moment and tried to get closer to her, wanting to explain himself, because he knew exactly why she was like that.

"Y/n, can we talk?" He appears beside her as soon as she enters the garage.

Y/n rolls her eyes, noticing his arrival there, and just continues walking down the hallway, ignoring the deep look he had on her.

"Is this about some video for McLaren's media?" She asks, spotting her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

"hm, no..."

"Then we have nothing to talk about. Good night!" Y/n started walking again.

Lando sighs deeply, but smiles, biting his lower lip slightly, knowing that under different circumstances, back when they were together, she would just take her anger out on him in bed. The two of them. Messy sheets. And heavy breathing.

He quickly shakes those thoughts from his mind and runs after her, before she can fully exit the garage.

"So... Franco, huh?" Lando approaches her, whispering close to her neck. Y/n tries to suppress the shiver she felt, but it was unsuccessful, Lando smiled knowing that he had so much power over her.

"Maybe, who knows?" Finally her gaze falls on Lando, raising her eyebrows a little and putting on a corner of her mouth.

He smiles. Y/n Piastri is definitely very different from her brother. While the younger one was more reserved, made few jokes and always had a neutral expression on his face. The older one was a totally provocative person, made a thousand jokes a day and was extroverted.

And Lando knew how incredibly provocative she was in bed. Oh, how he knew.

"I didn't think he was paying you much attention!"

Y/n looks at him in disbelief. "I didn't know you cared so much." She continues walking. "And I also don't know why you're talking to me. You should be thinking about the actions you've been doing while I was in my apartment waiting for you."

Lando rolls his eyes a little amused at the situation he was in. Yet another sign that Norris could be quite the provocateur.

He leans closer to her ear, making her swallow hard and start walking slower.

"You know, I don't think he's your type..." He begins. "I don't think he's going to hold you in bed..." Lando smiles, watching Y/n lose the stability he had created around her lately. "Because... with him you try, but with me you come and sit!"

Y/n held a breath in her throat and looked at him, trying to keep a serious expression and a frown on her forehead.

"Are you still talking?" She sends him a menacing look, which for a moment, makes Lando regret his jokes and teasing.

Y/n continues walking through the paddock, quickly now, a little shaken by those words, but leaving Lando behind, staring at her silhouette that was getting further and further away.

Norris would do anything that weekend to have an explanatory conversation with Y/n, even if he had to use his flattering and provocative side.

•••••••••••••••••••••

The following day, the early sun was already painting the paddock lines orange during the Spanish Grand Prix. While the team moved with their usual pre-race haste and energy, Y/n remained secluded in her small McLaren media office, a simple space provided by the organization for the teams.

Ever since Lando's attempted conversation the previous afternoon, she had made a point of avoiding him, maintaining an emotional distance that reflected the confusion she felt and the provocations that had definitely gotten to her.

Sitting in a swivel chair, Y/n turned slowly, as if trying to find answers in the rotations of her own body. His eyes, lost in thought, followed the reflection of the lights that were beginning to twinkle through the window glass, while his hands, restless, gently touched the back of the chair.

Beside her, Lily was sitting in a smaller chair, positioned so that she could follow both the cell phone screen and the thoughts that, lightly, escaped Y/n's lips.

“I think I have the measles.” She says, blowing her nose into a tissue and Lily stifles a laugh, raising her eyebrows slightly. “I had a fever before I got on the flight and now I’m sneezing.”

"Couldn't this just be a cold?"

"I don't know..." Y/n sighs, resting her head on the back of the chair and turning around again. "I googled it and it told me it was measles or cancer... so I preferred measles."

Lily lets out a loud laugh. "Good thing you didn't choose a career in healthcare." Y/n turns to her and laughs too. "But the fever? I think it's love fever." She waggles her eyebrows. "Have you talked to Lando yet?"

Y/n rolls her eyes when she hears the pilot's name.

"Not me. I have nothing to talk to him about!"

"But he must have, right?" Lily said calmly, leaning forward a little to look at her sister-in-law. Lily shook her head with an amused smile, crossing her legs and resting her elbow on the arm of the chair. "You can pretend you don't care, but I know you still like him."

Y/n stopped spinning in her chair, sighing deeply.

"I like him, okay?" She admitted, looking down at her hands. "I'm still in love with him, and that's what makes me the most angry. Because if it were any other guy, I'd just move on. But it's Lando...and he's the best...I can't explain how in love I am...and I also can't believe he did this to me."

Lily watched her for a moment, biting her lip as if pondering her next words. She knew the truth. Lando had already told her and Oscar everything when Piastri confronted him, ready to defend his older sister.

But it wasn't Lily's place to reveal the truth. Y/n needed to hear it directly from Lando.

"Have you ever considered that it might have been a misunderstanding?" Lily suggested carefully.

Y/n snorted. "Yes. And at the same time, no. If he wanted to explain it to me, he had plenty of time to do so."

"That is if you would stop running away from him, right?" Lily raised an eyebrow. "He's already getting frustrated with how much you avoid him."

Y/n crossed her arms, not knowing how to respond. Maybe Lily had a point, but she still couldn't just forget what she saw.

Lily, noticing what her sister-in-law was thinking, decided to lighten up a bit. "And you know what? He's getting really jealous every time you talk to Franco. It's hilarious. He glares at the poor guy every time he sees you two talking."

Y/n rolled her eyes, holding back a smile. "Oh, great. Now he wants to play jealous?"

"Believe me, if his looks were lethal, Franco would already be in another dimension." She laughed.

Before Y/n could respond, they heard a knock on the door. Turning their heads in sync towards the noise.

"Come in!" Y/n said, still smiling slightly.

When the door opened, Lando appeared, leaning against the frame with a serious look, but with a small smile on his face.

"Lily, Oscar is looking for you." He informed, glancing quickly at Y/n before turning his eyes back to Lily.

Lily smiled, feeling that this was the perfect moment to leave the two alone. "Great!" She said, standing up. Before leaving, she lightly touched Y/n's shoulder. "Take the opportunity to talk to him."

Y/n shot her sister-in-law a death glare, but Lily just winked at her before leaving, smiling sympathetically as she walked past Lando.

Silence filled the room. Y/n looked away from the pilot and stood up, going to a table to get her camera.

"Can we talk?" He was still there, leaning against the doorframe.

"I have to work," she said, adjusting her gear. "Now is not a good time for conversation. You should be in the garage, too."

Lando sighed, and before she could move toward the door, he closed it, blocking the exit.

"Do you need to work or are you avoiding talking to me?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"Or... do you just want to go talk to Franco? You guys seem pretty close, don't you?"

Y/n stopped in her tracks, narrowing her eyes at him. "Seriously? You want to go that way?"

Lando smirked. "I'm just asking."

Y/n approached the door, trying to open it, but he used his body to stop her.

"What's wrong, Y/n? Are you afraid to answer?"

She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Oh, please, Norris. If I wanted to provoke you, I could do a much better job of it than just talking to Franco.”

Lando chuckled, leaning closer to her ear. "And what would you do, then?"

Y/n just rolled her eyes and tried to ignore the heat his gaze caused. She was still irritated, but at the same time, she knew she was about to give in.

She felt the heat of Lando's body so close to hers that she had to close her eyes for a moment, trying to control her rapid breathing. But it was useless. He was there, so close, and she felt electricity run through every part of her body.

Making her remember all the times they were the only ones in a room with kisses, sighs and touches all over their bodies.

Lando smiled as he noticed her gesture, his expression becoming even more teasing.

"Why don't you give me a chance to explain myself, huh? Afraid of finding out I was wrong?"

Y/n opened her eyes, her stubbornness returning with a vengeance. "I've seen enough, Lando. I don't need to hear lies."

The answer only made Lando move even closer. They were face to face now, their faces inches apart. His intense gaze bored into her eyes, and Y/n felt her legs give out a little as her breath hitched against his lips.

"So that's it? You'd rather believe a random video than me?"

He was so close that she could feel his words on her skin, like a warm breath. Without thinking, as if something greater than her stubbornness took over her, Y/n moved even closer. And Lando smiled before finally kissing her.

It was a hot, urgent kiss, full of longing and emotion. His hands held her waist firmly, pulling her close, while her fingers intertwined in his hair. Lando kissed her as if he was trying to prove, with every movement, that she belonged to him. Y/n gave in for a moment, feeling her heart hammering in her chest.

But before they could go any further, she suddenly pulled away and slapped his chest, her expression irritated.

"You're impossible, Lando! That was a low blow!"

Lando chuckled, licking his lips. "I'd say it was well deserved."

Y/n huffed, pushing him aside lightly. "You should be focusing on the race, not me."

"I haven't been able to concentrate since you started avoiding me." He smiled sideways and added, his voice lower and full of intent, "I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me."

Y/n rolled her eyes and opened the door, rushing out and slamming it shut behind her. That was it. If she didn't talk to Lando right away, he would continue to follow her like a relentless paparazzi.

As she walked through the paddock, Lando's taunts still echoed in her mind. Little by little, she began to doubt whether she had really seen the situation wrong.

Oscar had insisted that she talk to Lando, and if it really was a betrayal, his brother would never speak like that.

Y/n suddenly stopped in the middle of the paddock, lost in her thoughts, when someone bumped into her.

"Oops! Sorry, Y/n! Are you okay?"

She blinked a few times and smiled.

"Hi, Yes, I just... I need to speak to someone on the team."

Franco frowned suspiciously. "You look a little lost."

She just smiled.

But before she could say anything else, the Argentine pilot placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and smiled.

"Well, whatever. It's going to be okay," he comforted gently. "See you around!" He walked through the paddock, holding a thermos in his hands and his mate.

It was at that moment that she decided. She needed to talk to Lando.

Y/n ran back to McLaren HQ, rushing inside to get to the office. But before she could reach the door, she turned a corner and bumped into Lando head on.

"What's going on?" He held her, worried.

"You!" Y/n smiled determinedly.

Lando smiled back and she grabbed his hand, pulling him back into the room.

"I was too hasty and didn't let you speak. But now you can say everything. Even if it hurts." She said quickly, as she closed the door to the small office.

Lando held her face with both hands, caressing her cheeks as he looked deep into her teary eyes.

"Okay, you were angry. But, Y/n, the woman in the video was my sister, Flo. She came to visit me in Monaco and I took her around the city. I would never cheat on you. Ever. And you know..."

Y/n felt her heart race. She blinked in confusion, letting the tears fall.

"Your...your sister?"

Lando laughs and takes his cell phone out of his pocket, opening the photo gallery and showing a photo of him and his brothers. The girl next to him was identical to the one who appeared in the video.

Y/n laughs and puts her hands on her face, a little embarrassed now.

"It's your sister-in-law." Lando chuckles. "You know, I'm in love with you Y/n, I haven't dated anyone before you showed up at McLaren. I knew something big was coming, and it was you. You're the woman I want in my life. I love you, my Australian!" Lando says softly, calmly and romantically. Another version of him that made Y/n's heart melt.

Y/n felt her heart race. She blinked in confusion, letting the tears fall. "Do... do you love me?"

Lando laughed softly.

"And why wouldn't I? You're wonderful, stubborn, funny, kind, beautiful... warm. I love your Australian accent, your laugh when you find something really funny. I love how you bite the cap of your pen when you're concentrating. I love when you play the big sister and fight with Oscar in the garage in front of everyone, just out of protectiveness." She laughs and Lando tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. "And I love... loving you."

Y/n's tears fell at once and, without thinking, she threw herself into his arms.

"I'm sorry. I was an idiot for not listening to you sooner. It's just... this relationship with a public figure still scares me."

Lando pulled her close, kissing the top of her head.

"I will never hurt you. Nor do anything that would make you feel betrayed. Besides, if I did that, Oscar would hunt me to the ends of the earth."

Y/n laughed, pulling away a little and cupping his face.

"I love you, Lan!" She confessed. And how she loved that British man.

Lando's smile grew and he took her hands in his. "So, do you want to make it official? Do you want to date me?"

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise. "You're asking me out now?"

"Yes. And if you say no, I'll have to kiss you again until you change your mind."

"Yes, I do, love." She smiles.

Lando pulled her into another kiss, this time calmer, but full of affection and love. His hands framed her face, as if she were a rare and precious jewel. The Australian's hands ran to his light brown curls, twirling some of them around her fingers.

"The only problem is that I don't have the ring here. But as soon as we get to Monaco, I'll spend hours with you in bed and give you the ring that's already been bought." Lando says, as they walk away.

"Okay, I guess I can go a few days without the ring." She smiles, and then leans closer to his ear. "But now, the part about staying in bed... I can't promise to stay without it..."

"If you keep saying things like that, I won't even be able to run tomorrow."

She laughed and kissed him again, knowing that no matter what, they were finally where they were supposed to be.

Author: Now, a curiosity hahaha I live in the south of Brazil, practically next door to Franco haha, and here I drink a lot of "Mate" too, I'm addicted, but it's also called "chimarrão". My aunts who live in the countryside call it "Mate", I who am from the big city call it chimarrão hahahahaha, just a curiosity of mine and the south of Brazil.

[solxamber]

For the event, could I request Leona, romantic, with "Waiting on the Sun" by Citizen Soldier? First time listening to this after discovering Twisted had me wailing in the car haha

i was crying at the club when i heard it... it suits leona so well oh my god

Waiting on the Sun || Leona Kingscholar

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Waiting on the Sun by Citizen Soldier

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1010

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Mild Hurt/Comfort, Realization of feelings

Leona has never been one for dreams.

Dreams are a fool’s game, a glimmer of hope strung out in front of desperate people, forcing them to chase something they’ll never catch. He learned early on that hope was nothing but a pretty lie wrapped in a silver ribbon, and in the end, the ribbon always frayed.

The world never made space for second sons, and the sun never rose for men like him.

He should have stopped waiting for it years ago.

But somehow, you're still here—sitting beside him in the shade of a tree, legs stretched out, your presence quiet yet steady. You don’t say anything, and he doesn’t need you to. That’s what he likes about you. You don’t fill the silence with empty words or meaningless comfort. You don’t try to fix him, like so many others before you.

You just exist beside him and that’s enough.

Leona doesn’t remember when you became his safe place.

At some point, your presence became a constant, as natural as the way he stretches out on the grass for an afternoon nap or the way the sun burns through the endless sky. You were just there—like an inevitable force of nature.

And damn if he doesn’t resent how much he needs it.

Because he does need it. He needs you in ways he’ll never admit aloud, in ways that make his stomach twist and his throat tighten. You make it so easy to believe, even when he’s spent a lifetime telling himself not to.

Somewhere along the way, you learned him too well. You can tell when his bitterness sharpens, when his patience wears thin, when he’s barely holding onto the threads of his temper. You don’t try to drag him into the light, but you don’t let him drown in the dark, either.

Instead, you just sit with him.

Like now.

Leona exhales, tipping his head back against the rough bark of the tree. The weight of the past few days lingers in his bones, making him feel heavier than usual. The exhaustion never fully leaves—it clings to him like a second skin.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Your voice is soft, cutting through the stillness.

Leona cracks an eye open. “Doubt it.”

You huff, barely phased by his dry remark. “You think nothing’s ever going to change. That you’re stuck in a cycle you can’t break. That waiting for things to get better is pointless.”

He stiffens, the words settling deep in his chest like stones. “You got all that just from lookin’ at me?”

“I got all that from knowing you.”

That shouldn’t make his heart stutter the way it does.

He doesn’t say anything, just turns his gaze back to the horizon. It stretches on endlessly, a vast expanse of golden plains and open sky. The view should be freeing. Instead, it feels like a cage with invisible walls.

A future that will never belong to him.

A throne that will never be his.

A world that will never see him as anything more than the spare.

The sun has never risen for men like him.

“I know what you’re going to say next,” he mutters. “That I should ‘keep trying.’ That things’ll ‘work out’ eventually. That if I just—”

“I’m not going to say that.”

He stops.

You tilt your head, a gentle smile pulling at your lips. “I’m not here to tell you to change. I’m not here to tell you things will magically get better. I just…” Your fingers brush over the back of his hand, tentative and warm. “I just want you to know that you don’t have to shoulder it alone.”

His breath catches.

No one has ever said that to him before.

No one has ever meant it before.

Leona has spent his whole life carrying the weight of his own bitterness, his own resentment, his own failures. No one ever told him he could set it down. No one ever offered to help him hold it.

No one but you.

His fingers twitch under yours.

Leona has never been one for dreams.

But when he looks at you, he wonders if maybe, he’s been waiting on the wrong thing all this time.

He doesn’t realize he’s in love with you until much later.

Maybe it’s the way you laugh, soft and easy, like the world has never once hurt you. Maybe it’s the way you look at him—like he’s not a disappointment, not a failure, not a second son who never mattered. Maybe it’s the way you never push him to be anything other than who he is.

Maybe it’s everything.

But when he finally does realize, it hits him like a landslide.

And suddenly, he’s terrified.

Because what if he loses this?

What if he loses you?

Leona doesn’t pray, but he does now.

He prays that you never leave. That you never wake up one day and decide that he’s too much trouble, that he’s too broken, that he’ll never be what you deserve.

He prays that this feeling—the quiet warmth that seeps into his bones whenever you’re around—never fades.

And yet, he still can’t bring himself to say it.

Not yet.

The words finally escape him on a night like this—under a sky filled with stars, your hand resting lightly in his, your head against his shoulder.

“Stay.” His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper.

You shift slightly, peering up at him with wide eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He exhales sharply, his grip tightening around yours. “No, I mean—” His throat works, the words catching like sandpaper. “Stay with me.”

Understanding dawns in your eyes, and for a moment, he thinks you might say no. That you might turn away.

But then you smile—soft, warm, home.

“Okay.”

Leona doesn’t believe in miracles.

But when you press your lips to his, slow and tender and real, he thinks that maybe the sun has been shining on him all along.

He just hadn’t noticed.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[piastri-fvx]

Love hate. Lando Norris.

Pairing: Lando Norris x f1driver!ferraridriver!reader, smau, one-sided enemies to lovers (inspired by Na Na Na by One Direction)

Summary: When she doesn't like him and he's in love with her.

Word Count:

Face claim: Sabrina Carpenter and girls from pinterestttt!!

Disclaimer/s: None!! Just fluff and bickering/teasing

A/N: i basically had no time to write anything because i had a lotttt to do!! anyways, i hope u enjoy!! lmk if u have requests or want to be on my permanent tag list <333 also i wrote this before lando changed his instagram @ so i had to go back and change emmmm!!

♡ Masterlist ♡

------------------------------------------------------

@yourusername

liked by lando, alexandrasaintmleux, ferrari, charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell and 2.484.916 others

yourusername starting the 2025 season like thisssss

| view all comments...

user1 every model should thank y/n for choosing this career path, they wouldn't stand a chance against her 🙏

user2 THE QUEEN IS BACK YALL

-> user3 manifesting another y/n season

charles_leclerc favorite teammate 😁 liked by author

-> yourusername tyyyy!! you're my favorite too

-> user4 oh to be friends with y/n or charles

oscarpiastri good luck on the first race! liked by author

ferrari our girl ❤️🫶 liked by author

-> yourusername forza ferrari sempre!!

-> user5 y/n was meant to be a ferrari driver, no one can convince me otherwise

-> user6 real, if you don't agree, argue with the wall

alexandrasaintmleux 🥰🥰🥰 liked by author

-> yourusername 🫶🫶🫶

-> user7 y/n basically being charles's sister atp 🛐

-> user8 and alex's sister lmao

-> user9 y/n leclerc from now on 🙏

user10 SHE IS GLOWINGGGG

user11 pookie is backkkk!!

-> user12 y/n we need all of the tea

-> user13 real, how was break, y/n?

lando 😍

-> yourusername no.

-> user14 humbled him real fast 😭

-> user15 is he just silent or was he silenced 🛐

-> user16 lando got gagged lol

@lando

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, mclaren, maxfewtrell, joaofelix79 and 3.483.294 others

lando new year, new @ 😁

| view all comments...

oscarpiastri 👍 liked by author

-> user1 typical Oscar behaviour

-> user2 fr the response is soooo oscar

user3 should've been landgoat yk 😝

user4 just a chill guy

-> user5 just a chill guy named lando

-> user6 who drives cars in weird shaped circles for a living

-> user7 and has no rizz (iykyk)

mclarenauto short and sweet. We love it 🧡 liked by author

-> user8 okay sabrina carpenter.

user9 still our goat 🤪🎀

user10 i'm sorry, the old lando can't come to the phone right now ✨

-> taylorswift 😙

user11 y/n being in his likes tho...

-> user12 real, because what about lando's lack of rizz?

@yourusername

liked by lando, oscarpiastri, lilymhe, flavy.barla, jade_distinguinn and 5.385.495 others

yourusername sooooo happy with p1!! congrats to osc on p2, well deserved

| view all comments...

lando what about my p3???

-> yourusername go oscar!!!

-> oscarpiastri go mclaren

-> lando go lando!! 😁

-> yourusername ...

oscarpiastri thanks mate liked by author

-> yourusername you're welcomeeee, osc

-> user1 😁😁😁

user2 cutieeeeee 🫶🫶🫶

user3 i think i'm lesbian now 😍

-> user4 *bi, lando norris exists

-> user5 omg right

user6 oh how i love y/n photo dumps

-> user7 her aesthetic is literally what i wanh mine to be like

lilymhe angel 🫶💗 liked by author

-> yourusername getting ready to get down on one knee right now ☺️

-> user8 lando, alex????

-> user9 y/n is stealing albono's girl 😭

user10 beautifullll 🤍

user11 queen of pinteresty photos liked by author

user12 girly we miss you on tiktok

-> user13 real, i miss y/n's influencer era

-> user14 yeah!! come back, y/n

user15 i wanna eat these pics liked by author

lando i agree with @user15

-> yourusername respectfully, get out of my comments

-> lando awwwwww 😫

-> user16 lando got rejected

-> user17 AGAIN

@lando

liked by olliebearman, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell, flavy.barla and 3.399.492 others

lando she lost a bet

| view all comments...

yourusername i don't support this

-> lando why didn't you at least like the post, baby 😩

-> user1 BABY??????

-> user2 SCREENSHOT SCREENSHOT

-> user3 I'M FRAMING THIS ON MY WALL WTF

user4 CAN WE TALK ABOUT LANDO CALLING HER BABY?????

-> user5 REAL BECAUSE IS THAT A HARD LAUNCH

user6 can we talk about how STUNNING she looks?

-> user7 real!! like damnnnn

user8 why is she so prettyyyyy 😭

oscarpiastri lol

-> yourusername 🙄

-> user9 oscar is having so much fun with this lmao

user10 lando entering his aesthetic arc???

user11 y/n pookie is such a good influence on lando

-> user12 especially on his insta feed

-> user13 "thank you y/n" we all chant in unison 🛐🛐🛐

user14 y/n looking like a goddess as always 😫

-> lando yeah she does that 😣

-> user15 LANDO WDYM

user16 guys i think lando's trying to tell us something

user17 lando trying to hard launch and y/n refusing 😫

-> user18 it's giving mixed signals

@yourusername

liked by lando, oscarpiastri, mclaren, scuderiaferrari, alexandrasaintmleux and 10.382.283 others

yourusername hard launch or whatever

tagged: @lando

| view all comments...

user1 favorite enemies to lovers 🛐🛐🛐

oscarpiastri finally liked by author

-> user2 OSCAR 😭

user3 so invested in this

-> user4 same

-> user5 finally something interesting lmao

user6 i smell something

-> user7 a love story 🥰

user8 lethal face cards belong together

-> user9 real

-> user10 the proof is literally RIGHT HERE

user11 this post just validated everything we've been praying for. thank you for your service liked by author

-> yourusername you're welcome, darling 💗

-> user12 i would faint if she called me darling

-> user13 @user11 got so lucky wtf

user14 i guess being a ferrari fan, this is the only win we can get

-> user15 #depressedemo

-> user16 there is not one ferrari fan that is mentally stable

-> user17 can't even protest tbh

-> charles_leclerc me neither

user18 lando, please give me y/n

-> lando never.

-> user19 mama a lando behind you

user20 we may call ourselves lando fans, but we are really just y/n fans liked by author

@lando

liked by yourusername, mclaren, oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, f1 and 6.484.185 others

lando MY WOMAN 😍😍😍

| view all comments...

user1 do you guys perhaps need a dog?

-> user2 i can bark

-> user3 woof woof woof

user4 meow meow meow

user5 sometimes babygirl is lando norris

-> user6 sometimes babygirl is a 24 year old man

-> user7 who drives cars for a living

-> user8 and has a stunning gf

user9 i'm only here for the y/n pictures

-> user10 same it's what we deserve

user11 lando i only follow you for the y/n pictures, more content please

-> lando as you wish

-> user12 YAYYYYYYY

user13 my day just got brighter after seeing this GORGEOUS WOMAN

user14 lando can you fight?

-> user15 i guess lando has to fight now

-> user16 he can't take all of us at once

user17 they look so cute 💗

-> user18 y/n is stunning and so is lando 😭

-> user19 no but they are

------------------------------------------------------

A/N: i'm soooo tired but wanted to get this out of my drafts lollll!! feel free to request and please comment (if u want), i would love to get some feedback, lmao! love u all and hope u enjoyed this

tags!

@freyathehuntress

[alleiwentcrazy]

“Wait,” Steve propped himself on his elbow, getting into a half-lying, half-sitting up position, “you’d do that for me?”

“Yeah man,” Eddie replied. He shimmied a little bit closer to the middle of the mattress and snuggled to his pillow. His eyebrows furrowed as he yawned. “I mean, I kind of did that already, didn’t I?”

Steve just kept on looking at him, stunned. It felt so strange to be cared for; to be remembered, known. He’d never had been, not like that—with Robin, sure, but that was different. He’d never felt like that with Nancy. With anyone. He hadn’t had to try and make out someone’s silhouette in the darkness, just to read their face and decide whether they were just selfless and nice or doing something for him. Truly for him, for the sake of doing it for him. It had never been an issue, because there had never been anyone about whom he’d had to wonder things like that. It had always been an exchange of sorts in this context.

But not with Eddie.

Steve’s head started to spin.

“Honestly I can’t wait for you to see it. You know she’s not really my type, but even I can see how fucking cool this car is. It felt a little like tuning my guitar or—”

Steve didn’t even register it when he reached for Eddie’s face, his consciousness wasn’t in the room when he lowered himself down and sank even closer to the boy who’d put his heart in a wrench. He just kissed him, and when he did – momentarily, it was a complete bliss. As long as his lips were gently pressed to Eddie’s, no matter how hard his heart was beating, it felt like he would be okay after all. Nothing else was important; he was kissing Eddie. He felt warm and cared for; he was kissing Eddie. 

Eddie.

Steve felt a finger hook at the rim of his shirt, he felt himself being pulled closer.

The panic came approximately three seconds later.

Their lips parted with the softest tsk, but Steve heard it several times louder. His senses were screaming at him, all alarms set off; the smell of Eddie’s shampoo lingered around his face, the sensation of chapped lips lingered against his, his fingers were tingling where they came in contact with Eddie’s slightest stubble.

It was curious how much Eddie reminded him of a cat at that moment. He was rigid, but ready to spring into action whenever, and his eyes were ridiculously big, almost fluorescent in the dim moonlight that was seeping through the trailer’s curtains. The longer Steve looked into those eyes, the more he felt like he might have fucked up. Bad.

“Should I—I should, I mean I…” He trailed off, getting a little further away from Eddie with every word. “I should, yeah, probably. Go.”

He practically jumped out of the bed, and it pained him how cold it was without Eddie close to him. He’d gotten so used to sleeping here, just sleeping, whenever Wayne was out and no uncomfortable questions would be asked, so that they both could feel a little less alone.

“I’ll take the van, we’ll exchange cars later today, alright?” Steve looked for his change of clothes in the darkness. They were, as usual, neatly stacked in his designated space at Eddie’s desk. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I mean, I did, but I’m, uh. I’m…” He trailed off, his cheeks getting embarrassingly hot and pink, he supposed, even though he couldn’t see himself in the mirror.

It felt wrong to say he was sorry. He was, obviously, he just kissed Eddie out of nowhere, but it didn’t feel like a mistake. His lips were still warm. He wanted to purse them tightly to keep the memory of Eddie’s lips on his firmly in place.

“We should do it again.”

Steve froze.

“What?”

He turned back towards the bed. It was much easier to make out Eddie’s form now. He was sitting up, chewing his thumbnail, his eyes barely flickering to Steve. His hair stood out against the white-ish wall and Eddie’s gray T-shirt. The waves were quite disheveled, but still cascaded beautifully over his shoulders.

Damn, Steven.

“We should do it again. If you’re not sure, we should do it again.”

Not sure about what? Steve did not dare ask. Eddie looked so nervous, maybe even more nervous than Steve felt. Both of their breaths were coming short now, as if they’d just run a marathon.

Apprehensively, Steve sat back down on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped underneath him and he swayed a bit forward.

“We should kiss. Again?” That really was what it was, right?

Eddie nodded his head quickly. Steve’s breath hitched when the smell of Eddie’s shampoo reached his nose once again.

There were very few thoughts in Steve’s head. There was just Eddie, right in front of him, chewing his nail, nodding away. Wanting to kiss him, again, having been kissed once already. Steve was confused and more than a little queasy, but his willpower wasn’t quite strong enough to get him questioning things.

“Okay,” he mumbled. Eddie finally looked at him, lowered his hand to his lap and nodded.

Some sort of nervous sound rumbled in the back of Steve’s throat. Okay. It was okay. He leaned in—and Eddie leaned in at the same time. Warm breath tickled Steve’s lips, and he stopped just before meeting Eddie half-way.

“Are you su—”

Eddie was kissing him before the sentence got out of his mouth in its entirety. Really kissing him, not just pressing their lips together, kissing him, still incredibly stiff and distanced, but kissing him. Oh, with something more than just curiosity, Steve could tell. He let out one heavy breath through his nose and felt Eddie relax right away with him. Their lips were in perfect harmony; Steve’s chest tightened. His stomach felt heavy and full and squirmy and for some reason Steve had never felt better than in this moment, even though his eyes stung and he could barely breathe.

His hands acted on their own accord, one settling on Eddie’s shoulder, the other on his cheek, keeping him close, closer, closer still.

Their lips parted. Steve felt the loss immediately.

“I’m gonna…” Eddie whispered huskily, untangling his legs from the cover and shifting his position. It was funny how one of his knees kind of hovered over Steve’s lap in silent question – it was even funnier how long it took Steve to process that.

“Yeah, feel free, please.”

What the fuck, Steven.

Eddie straddled his lap and leaned right back for another kiss, pressing their chests together. Their hearts kept thump thump thumping loudly against their chests, and Steve was kind of actively losing his mind over that. Eddie, in his gray T-shirt and stupid plaid shorts, was straddling his lap, kissing him, making him believe that he had the whole world in the palm of his hand. Was it even real? Could Steve touch him? Would it really be alright? He laid his hand on Eddie’s thigh, feeling hair and goosebumps underneath his fingers. Another conclusion from that night: Eddie was hot. Steve kissed him harder, and he reciprocated, grabbing Steve’s neck.

Steve had no idea for how long they had been kissing, until Eddie swayed dangerously close to the edge of the bed and Steve’s neck started to hurt. It wasn’t nearly enough, but that was it.

For now, hopefully.

“It’s getting late,” he mumbled against Eddie’s lips, “and you’ve got to be at the shop at 8 sharp tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said and stole one more peck. “You wanna sleep?”

Fuck me if I can, Steve thought, but nodded yes.

“But let’s talk tomorrow? Okay?”

Eddie’s hands were still cupping his cheeks. His lips seemed sleek and shiny, shinier than his eyes, even.

“We must,” he replied. They both nodded. For some reason Steve’s heart started beating even faster now.

Eddie scrambled from his lap, cleared his throat and rearranged the covers, getting back into his favourite position. Steve followed suit. The gap between them seemed enormous and immediately got filled with anxious energy.

Steve reached between them hesitantly. For a few seconds his hand just lay there, empty and suddenly very cold. Eddie’s open palm touched his. He let out a big breath.

They would figure it out. For sure. Tomorrow.

[beuxwhoyouare]

Wrecked

Gabe wasn't feeling the vibes to go out but he had to. All of his friends were getting together to celebrate one of their birthdays so against his better judgement he went out. In true fashion anytime you're around your best friends they can change a moment of tiredness into hyped excitement. And that's what they did. While horrendously underdressed for the occasion Gabe was thankful he went out that night to be surrounded by the love of all his friends despite a crumby day at work.

Gabe and his friends drank and danced the night away, leaving the club around 2 am. The group took Lyfts back to their homes leaving only 2 of them left in the vehicle as they got on the highway. Black ice developed in the colder weather causing the 2 cars in front of Gabe's Lyft driver to swerve in an attempt to avoid crashing. The car hit the cement median. Several vehicle attempted to stop but a pile up formed on the interstate after their crash.

A few feet behind them, a vehicle carrying a prisoner being extradited got caught in the wreckage. The guards driving, dying upon impact. Gavin was caught after months on the run for several murders but now this had to be fate. The doors of the armored vehicle flapping open in the cold air. His distraught lanky self going into fight or flight quickly stripping his prison wear. He quickly searched for another nearby vehicle with passengers that had passed out, pulled on spare clothes from their trunk, and pretended to pass out inside a nearby vehicle in an attempt to hide his true identity.

Hours later, Gabe woke up in the hospital reeling in a panic from the traumatic moments before the incident. A nurse calmed him down as she told him he'd been out for only an hour since his arrival. They continued to check on him as he tried to collect himself mentally, calling out for his friend. The medical team assuring him that they would search for his friend in the sea of hospital rooms.

Minutes of waiting turned to hours and eventually he passed out.

Gavin woke up around the same time in the same hospital. Fiddling with something he found in his pocket, he found himself in a room with several others passed out. He got up quietly before peering out into the energetic ER filled with rushing medical providers and crash victims. He knew that he may have escaped for now but the cops will surely be looking for him soon.

He quickly began searching for victims with private rooms and and ID he could snag. Several officers walked into the ER to begin taking statements from anyone awake about what happened. Gavin overheard one telling a nurse that they were also searching for an escaped convict. Knowing full well that he was already being hunted he ducked down and quickly crawled into a nearby room.

He was panicking trying to figure out a way out of the scenario he finally pulled the item he’d been fiddling with out of his pocket when he examined it closer. An arrowhead looking rock with a symbol etched into it glowed in his hand. He didn’t think much of it amid his ongoing spiral.

Gabe woke up in his bed noticing Gavin looking at something in his hand. He began freaking out at the stranger in his room as Gavin lunged at him using the sharp rock-like item to threaten him. Gavin told Gabe to calm down or he would harm him. In an attempt to scare him into complicity, Gavin prodded the rock into Gabe’s neck and once it came into contact with both of them it a gust of wind broke out in the room. Two abstract auras flew out from the two men before getting sucked into the body opposite of where they came from, before the wind stopped and shot them apart.

Nurses and a cop rushed into the room. The cop recognized Gavin and began to cuff the blonde man. Nurses came to check on Gabe but he had apparently passed out. The cop places Gavin in custody and began walking him out of the room as he groggily reawakened.

“Wait. Where are you taking me? I’m still looking for my friends?” the escaped prisoner panicked.

“Friends? Gavin Topp, you’re under arrest again for murder. You don’t have any friends left here.” snickered the cop.

As the cop continued to drag the prisoner to a nearby cop car, the prisoner caught his reflection in a glass door. That’s not his face…his stomach sank….that’s the stranger from his room?!

Gabe’s friend rushed into the room to check on him after the nurses alerted him he was there. Witnessing the cop take the convict out of the room, Gavin grinned as he watched his former body being dragged out of the room. A sense of relief washed over him as he started to piece together what happened. Confirmed to him as Gabe’s friend walked into the room asking him if he was okay enough to head home.

Gavin pretended to still be shaken by the nights events asking for Gabe’s friend to take him to his new home. Eventually they arrive to Gavin’s new home as his friend leaves him to get some rest. Slowly Gavin looked around the apartment discovering something new everywhere he looked. That’s when he located the restroom. Gavin grimaced at his new reflection in the mirror.

The blonde white murder convict savored his new Cuban Puerto Rican dark brown curls. His shorter stature was met with muscular firmness that was deceivingly hidden under oversized sweats.

In his excitement, he began unsheathing himself from the cloth confines. Taking in his new muscles and tattoos with awe. He flexed and tried poses he had always seen big buff guys do in tv shows and movies. When he dropped his sweatpants he was shocked to find a slutty brief thong underwear.

He’s gotten away with murder and now he wanted to get away with taking advantage of this bussy. The convict gave into the body’s urges, animalistic like fervor washing over him as he pulled off the sweats before pulling down the thong.

Using one hand to stroke his growing pole and the other sliding in digit after digit to poke and prod his new hole, Gavin began giggling to himself with satisfaction before graduating to moans. In his mind he kept replaying the moment he saw the real Gabe realize his life had been stolen. Gavin gaining perverse satisfaction from that moment and his new life as a fine Latino man. Before he knew it everything came to a climax. Rope after rope shot out as he continued to buzz with residual impacts of the moment. Gavin using his new horned up tongue to like everything he could clean from the mess he made.

He passed out after the traumatic day only to be woken up bright and early by his new phone vibrating with a FaceTime call.

Gavin scaring himself with his own reflection as he answered. Gabe’s friends wanted to take him to the beach to help him get his mind off the trauma from the night before. Gavin couldn’t wait to continue to whore himself out on the beach, elated at the offer to go to the beach. Hanging up the call, Gavin scavenged through all of Gabe’s clothing to find a swimsuit…only to find two options.

Instead of making up his mind himself he asked the group chat with all of Gabe’s friends. What do yall think? Black or lime?

Well what do you think?

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

lunch break

Summary: Joel forgot his lunch at home. When you get to his work to bring it to him, he has you for lunch instead.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.1k

Raiting: E

Warnings: established relationship, no outbreak, breeding kink like woah, smut (unprotected sex, public sex, car sex) dirty talk, a little bit of exhibitionism, fluff too I guess

A/N: look, I don't know, this just happened, okay?

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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

This wasn’t supposed how you thought bringing lunch to Joel would end.

It was supposed to be a quick in and out to the job site, bringing him the lunch he had forgotten before getting back home in time for Sarah to get back from school and take her to the dentist. You had taken the whole day off especially for that because you knew how scared she was to go to the dentist and Joel couldn’t take the day off. 

The project Joel was currently working on was almost a 45 minute drive somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Apparently some billionaire had bought the whole land and was now building a luxury hotel, Miller constructions first big contract they had won. 

It were long and exhausting hours but Joel did it all with a smile. 

Sure, one on one time with him had gotten less and less but you were in it for the long haul with him. So long that you had moved into his place earlier in the year. So long that you had talked about having a baby together. 

Something that very much took the backroad since this project started a couple months ago. Or so you thought as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, Joel towering over you in the dusty bed of his truck as he pumped his thick cock into you with deep and long strokes, making it hard to keep quiet. 

You weren’t even sure how this happened. 

One moment you walked towards the three containers that had been set up for all the workers, walking towards Joel who was sitting with his back towards you, the next moment he had you under him in his truck bed, panties pushed to the side under the summer dress you had been wearing, making enough room for his cock to fill you, him not having even pulled off his jeans, only pushing it down far enough to free his cock.  

„Not gonna let me hear you, huh?“ He teased, voice low as he leaned in, his lips kissing up your neck, steadily thrusting his cock into you. 

„Don’t want your people to hear,“ you whimpered, one hand in his hair, to keep his mouth right where it was as he sucked softly on that one spot on your neck he knew drove you insane. You crossed your legs behind his back, moaning at the changed angle he was filling you. 

„So fucking sexy,“ he grunted, kissing down towards your collarbone, his fingers pulling at the front of your dress just so he could free one of your nipples, his lips closing around it immediately after, sucking harshly. 

Your mouth dropped open in a silent cry, head thrown back as you looked up into the blue sky above the tree his car was parked beneath. 

Joel was dirty and sweaty, the shirt he had left the house with this morning replaced by a white wife beater that was clinging to his sweaty body. Sweat was dripping down his neck and fuck you don’t think you have ever been more turned on. 

He nibbled on your nipple and you pulled at his hair. 

„Can’t wait till these are full of milk,“ he mumbled against your skin as he kissed himself up your body, nose brushing over your skin as his hips slapped against yours, shaking the whole truck. 

„Full of milk for the baby I’m gonna fuck into you,“ he said, eyes on you before he kissed you deeply, tongue diving into your mouth while he fucked you even deeper. 

You could hear some men laughing in the not so far distance, and you gasped as you remembered just where you were. Were you let Joel have his way with you. You clenched around his cock and he moaned against your lips. 

„Need you to cum for me, baby,“ his forehead came to rest against yours as he fucked into you. 

„Need you to cum so I can fuck my cum so deep inside of you, it’ll take. Gonna make you a mama,“ he murmured, and you gasped. 

„Fuck, Joel,“ you moaned. 

„You want that? Want me to keep you full of my cum?“ He groaned and you nodded.

„I want that. Want you inside me all the time,“ you whined and he groaned a low fuck against your ear as he buried his face against your neck. You wrapped your arms behind his back, one of your hands buried in his sweaty hair.

"Gonna look so good with my baby inside of you. Not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you once you start to show,“ he whispered against your ear and you shuddered. 

„Cum for me baby,“ he sucked on your earlobe. 

„Cum for me so I can pump you full of my cum. Full of my baby,“ he groaned and you clamped down on him, cumming hard. 

„Oh fuck,“ he groaned when he felt you come, following you almost immediately, moaning against your ear as he came, spilling inside of of you, pumping you full with his cum. 

Both out of breath you just stayed like this, for how long you didn’t know. Could be seconds, minutes or hours, you weren’t sure as you held him in your arms, feeling his warm breath against your neck as he laid on top of you. 

He knew how much you loved having him on top of you. 

You brushed your fingers through his hair, a content smile sneaking to your face. 

„Where did that come from?“ You asked after a while and he sat himself up a little so he could look at you. 

„I know you’re ovulating,“ he said and you raised one eyebrow, intrigued at him knowing that.  

„And I’m just really fucking horny for you,“ he said like it was the most normal thing, making you giggle. He chuckled, smiling widely at you before he kissed you softly. 

„Love you,“ you mumbled against his lips. 

„Love you more,“ he mumbled back. 

You were already driving back down the dirt road when Joel made his way back to the construction site, trying to glare at the very obvious smirks and winks he received from his colleagues. 

But who the fuck was he kidding?

He’d go through all the teasing in the world to have a lunch break like that every day. 

It was hours later that he realised, he never actually ate anything.

[covenofagatha]

Do I wanna know? (Part 3)

Agatha and you have a talk about the future

Word count: 4k

Warnings: 69, oral, smut, angst (hopefully not as much), why would you ever talk about feelings/problems when you could just fuck instead

“What? What part?” you ask, your voice sounding unfamiliar to your own ears. “If it’s the City, it’s fine, that’s not far away, you could even stay here.” 

Agatha purses her lips. “It’s in Albany.” 

Your stomach drops. Two hours away by car on a good day, about four by train. Agatha has a pitiful look on her face and you want to scoff. 

Of course she’s feeling sorry for you. 

“Honey,” she starts, cool and calm as ever and it makes you fucking enraged. She reaches out to touch you again — why does she keep trying to do that? why doesn’t she realize that she isn’t going to fix anything? — but you shove her aside and scramble off the couch, beginning to pace with your head in your hands. 

Is this better than the affair? She still lied to you. She still didn’t tell you about it, she’s still looking to get out. “Why didn’t you say anything?” you demand, pausing to look at her. 

Her jaw tightens. “I didn’t — I didn’t want to before it got real. I wasn’t even sure I was going to go, but my friend reached out and it’s a really good opportunity. The company took me out to dinner last night as an informal interview and I ended up staying the night. I didn’t think you’d come here, I thought you were mad at me or something. Baby, I was really worried about you.” 

In any other situation, you’d feel touched by her concern, but it really just pisses you off even more. This isn’t about you. “I thought you were having an affair,” you say again and her face falls. 

“I would never—”

You don’t even want to hear it. “Look, don’t change the subject, okay? The point is, you did this huge thing without even telling me and now — what? You’re moving to New York?” 

Now she seems unable to meet your eyes, an uncharacteristic shyness radiating off her. “I haven’t even gotten the job yet.”

Your mind starts to whirl with the possibilities. “If you get it, are you going to take it?” 

There’s a thick silence that hangs over you two for a moment and you can see the vein in her forehead pulse as she thinks about it. But her hesitation is all the answer you need. 

“Okay,” you breathe. You don’t even know where your head is at — you’re so fucking mad, but you’re also so relieved that she isn’t cheating, but then now there’s this wrench that could possibly mean the end of things. You’re not going to let that happen. Dropping to your knees in front of her and finally touching her of your own accord with your palms flat on her legs, you earnestly look at her. “We can…we can figure it out, we will figure it out. I can come down on the weekends or you can come here or — I can transfer! I’ll transfer to somewhere in New York and we can get an apartment, just the two of us, and obviously I won’t be much help with the rent because it’s expensive as shit there—”

Agatha pulls you up by your cheeks and kisses you, effectively shutting you up. You lose yourself in the feeling of her lips against yours and you moan softly, everything slipping away for just a moment. In these five seconds, it’s just the two of you and nothing else can come between you. 

But then she breaks away and sighs heavily, resting her forehead against yours. “You just started school here,” she says gently. “I can’t make you give that up. Don’t you like it?”

You shrug lazily. “It’s the first week. I’m not too attached. I’m sure somewhere there will be just as good.” 

“What about your parents? What would you tell them?” 

Why does it feel like she doesn’t want you there? You can’t help the frown tugging on your lips. “I’ll just say that I don’t like it at Westview. I’m sure I can come up with something. They’ll just want me to be happy.” Agatha makes you happy, but there’s a flicker of doubt growing in your stomach.

She cups your cheek and leans back so you’re able to see her eyes. They’re blue as the ocean, full of emotion, and glassy. “Why don’t you give it a few months, hm? I don’t want you to throw away your school and your family just for me. If you really don’t like it, then we can talk.”

“What if I just drop out of school and become your trophy wife? I’ll be such a good one, I’d wear nothing but an apron all day and make your favorite foods and then I can sit on your strap while you eat dinner.” You play it off like a joke, but deep down, you would be more than willing. You hope she says yes. 

Agatha huffs out a laugh and sniffs, tracing a finger down the skin of your face like she’s trying to memorize it. “Wear a short little maid outfit that just happens to ride up and show off your bare cunt when you’re on your knees cleaning the floor?” 

You hum and close your eyes in pure bliss at the thought. “See, now you get it. It would be so perfect, right? 

“So perfect,” she agrees, but her smile lingers until it’s wistful. There’s a longing pang inside you, one that threatens to tear you open, but you push it down. “I know I haven’t gotten it yet, but I won’t take it,” she says quietly after a moment and your brows furrow in confusion. “If you don’t want me to take it, I won’t.” 

Every single morsel of your body is screaming for you to ask her to stay. It would be so easy, and then you could just pretend that none of this — the suspicion, the lies, the sneaking around — never happened. Everything could go back to the way it was before. 

But the slightest fear that she would start to resent you for it creeps into the back of your mind. Sure, she might not mind at first, but over time when her job here gets old and she’s unhappy, she’s going to blame you. She’s going to start to hate you for holding her back, and what if you’re not worth it? 

The last thought hits you like a punch to the gut. Are you enough to keep her content if she stays? Are you enough to keep her happy? 

You’re paralyzed and she’s looking at you expectantly, like it’s an easy fucking decision. You want to complain that it’s not fair for her to put this on you, that she should want to be with you so badly that she willingly gives up the new position for you, but maybe she’s having the same doubts.

The only thing you know is that you don’t want to end up like your parents, with a loveless marriage and a cold, empty house despite the family living in it and the bitter silence of words left unsaid haunting every moment. You don’t want this to become an open wound that festers until Agatha hates you for it. 

“If it’s a better job and if you want it, you should take it,” you say, almost surprised by how eerily calm your voice sounds. 

Agatha looks taken aback for just the slightest moment but nods. “You’re sure?” 

No! Stay with me! I fucking love you! 

“Yeah,” you rasp and she bends down to kiss you again, so sweetly that it hurts. She murmurs something against your lips but you don’t even think to ask what she says because you can’t stop the nausea climbing up your throat. 

You jump back and run to the bathroom before vomiting in the toilet. You sink to the floor, shaking and sweating and trembling, and you’re vaguely aware of Agatha’s hands in your hair, holding it back, and telling you that everything is going to be alright. Is it?

She gets a wet washcloth and holds it against your head while you don’t move from your position, waiting to see if you have to puke again. 

“Had too much to drink last night,” you mutter, feeling like you’re drunk all over again, when she asks if you’re feeling okay. “Thought you were cheating.”  

You hear a heavy sigh behind you and tears prick your eyes. Is she disappointed? Does she think you’re being just a stupid kid? “I wouldn’t, honey. I wouldn’t do that. I promise. I—” She stops and strokes your hair instead.

It feels like there’s something she’s not saying, but maybe you’re just reading into it. 

And then there’s your I love you while she was fucking you, still fresh in your mind. Do you say it again? Do you ask if she heard it? Or just wait until she says it first?

If she does. You can’t get these stupid insecurities and doubts out of your mind and it’s killing you. 

“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up again?” she asks gently and you shake your head. “Come on, why don’t we get you into the shower and then into bed?”

You want to protest just to be petulant, but you’re just so fucking tired. “Okay, mommy,” you say and she sharply inhales, but pretends to be unaffected. Good to know that you can still get to her after you look like you’ve just been through hell. 

She turns the water on and you numbly wait until she guides you up and helps you undress before you step into the shower. You almost buckle to the ground but Agatha holds you up, the sleeves of her blazer getting soaked, but she doesn’t even notice it. 

It’s an awkward position, her on the outside of the tub and you barely standing up inside it, but she rubs your skin and you slowly feel warmth returning to your body. 

You’re about to ask if she’ll get in with you — you see the way she can’t stop looking at your tits and you’re suddenly longing to feel her on you, a reminder that she is yours — when a phone rings. 

Definitely not yours; your phone is always on silent. 

Agatha curses and tells you she’ll be right back before disappearing from the bathroom. The cold feeling starts to grow back in your stomach, creeping up to your throat and gripping tightly. 

“Yes — this is she!” you hear her say from the other room, her voice getting louder as she comes back into the bathroom. You look at her with wide eyes and she gives you a tight smile. “Oh, I did? Well, thank you very much, that is wonderful news.”

The person on the other line starts talking and you can only catch quick muffles of it, but from Agatha’s face, you already know. 

“Of course, yes, hang on just one second,” she says and presses her phone against her shoulder to give you her full attention. Eye contact with her feels like a stab to the gut. “Honey, are you sure you’re okay with this? You can say no.” 

Can you? 

It’s on the tip of your tongue — it would be so easy to ask her to turn it down, so easy to ask her to choose you. She’s waiting for an answer but each drop of water on your skin feels like a chant: no. no. no. You know Agatha’s trying to remain neutral, but you can tell she wants the job, by the way she’s twitching her fingers and the barely concealed pleading look on her face and the way she’s holding her phone so tightly it’s making her veins pop out all bluish and purplish. 

It’s clear that you cannot say no. 

You’re not sure she would ever forgive you, and you’re not sure you would ever forgive yourself. You can’t ask her to throw away this opportunity, not for you. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you say hoarsely, feeling a lot like you just signed a death warrant. 

But plenty of people do long distance, and two hours really isn’t that bad. Plus it just means that with all the waiting, the sex will be even hotter. Her moving away doesn’t mean anything. 

And you can transfer at the end of the semester, so really you just have to make it a few months. 

Agatha’s beam is one of pure gratitude and you know you made the right choice, but she’s back to talking on the phone and your little moment is interrupted. “Oh…two weeks? Of course, I can totally do that.” 

A flash of panic bolts through you and you mouth two weeks? at her. She purses her lips and shrugs apologetically, like that’s supposed to make you feel better. 

The rest of her phone call is blurred out by your sudden inability to hear anything but the rush of the water that has suddenly become so loud it’s taken over all your thoughts and you don’t even realize that she’s hung up and cleaned you off and gotten you out of the shower until you’re shivering and naked and Agatha’s wrapping a towel around you. 

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay,” she murmurs because you’re now uncontrollably shaking and you think you might be crying a little. “Everything’s going to be okay.” She presses kisses to your forehead and cheeks and nose, muttering the same sort of sentients, while the towel around you slips to the floor when you throw your arms around her and cling to her like she’s your lifeline, like she’s everything you’ll ever need, and she holds you back so tightly you think you might fuse into one being. 

The two of you stand there like that until your skin gets clammy and pruney and your eyes are raw. When you finally pull back, your muscles ache and the front of Agatha’s clothes are absolutely soaked, so you tug on them until she gets the message and begins to strip. 

Her blazer comes off, and then she untucks her blouse from her pants and slowly begins to unbutton it, each time revealing more of her perfect pale skin. You can see the faint outlines of her ribs and then her stomach, the red bites from two days ago still there, albeit faded. 

There’s no mistaking the “M” though. A hot thrill runs through you despite the solemn air between you and a fire starts to flicker to life in your stomach. You reach out to trace your mark as if in a trance and Agatha’s breath hitches. 

Swallowing roughly, your eyes dart up to meet her already-dark ones. “We should talk about the job, right? Figure out what it means for us?” you ask, but even as the words leave your mouth, you can feel the atmosphere shift into something else. 

“Right,” Agatha nods, but she can’t stop looking down at your pebbled nipples — from the cold or from her? 

When she surges forward, clasps your cheeks, and pulls your mouth to hers, you know that it’s both. The kiss is messy, teeth knocking against each other and her tongue invading your mouth and breathing each other’s air, and you wrap your arms around her neck to bring her even closer. She didn’t get to take her pants off yet, but it feels absolutely delicious when she slides a thigh between yours and you grind down onto it. Your nipples brush against the fabric of her bra and you can’t help but moan into her open mouth. 

Fire roars beneath your skin, spreading to all over your body, and you suddenly just need more. You need her to overwhelm all your senses until you can’t fucking think about anything else, not the job, not her moving, not the fact that you could’ve stopped this but didn’t — you just want her. 

She grabs onto your hip to guide you against her leg and you whine as she sucks on your tongue. Her other hand comes up to cup your right breast and roll your nipple and you mewl and jerk against her. She tugs and it feels directly connected to your cunt because you pulse and it only gets worse when she flexes her thigh underneath you. 

“Bed — bedroom, please,” you choke out and her mouth doesn’t leave yours, walking you backwards into the bedroom and not stopping until the backs of your knees hit the bed. 

Agatha pushes you down onto it, the duvet beneath you instantly getting wet from your dripping pussy, and she shimmies off her pants and underwear and sinks to her knees in front of you. It’s a sight to behold, her looking up at you from the floor like she wants to devour you, like she would hang the stars and the sun in the sky for you and it still wouldn’t be enough. The power running through you from the heat in her eyes and the ragged heaving of her red chest and the way she tosses her hair over her shoulder is enough to drive you mad. 

“You’re so perfect,” she breathes and it only makes you wetter. You buck your hips against the bed, trying to get some stimulation to your now-aching clit, but it’s not even close to enough. 

But it’s not even five seconds later when she leans in, inhales the scent of you deeply, and then drags her flattened tongue through your folds, making you keen and arch your back. She is so good with her mouth and she never fails to remind you. 

“Fuck, Agatha,” you gasp, and you usually don’t call her by her name during sex, normally opting for mommy, but you need the intimacy right now. You need to feel like this is real. 

She groans into you and teases her tongue around your clit, never quite touching it, and you bury your fingers in her hair and gently pull on it. Her eyes flick up to yours as a warning and you loosen your grip. Agatha gives you an almost imperceptible nod and rewards you with one long lick to your clit and your head falls back. 

You can no longer hold yourself up when she thrusts her tongue inside you, and you fall back onto the bed, instantly clenching around you. She feels so fucking good, her tongue curling inside your cunt and her nose brushing against your clit, and you angle a leg up on the bed so she can reach deeper inside you. “God, yes,” you sigh, and your orgasm is slowly starting to build up with each roll of your hips and each time your stomach tightens. 

But something is missing — you can’t help your thoughts from straying and you just need more. 

So you stop her and she looks up at you, the entire bottom half of her face and nose absolutely covered with you. Your clit throbs and you sit up.

“I need — I want — wanna taste you too, Aggie,” you whine and you’ve never used that nickname before, but you think she likes it because she lunges up, capturing your lips with hers again, and knocking you straight back onto the bed. 

She nods while still kissing you, whispering, “Fuck, honey, how are you so hot? How are you so perfect for me?” 

You clench around nothing and you claw at her shoulder blades frantically, knowing what you need but not how to ask for it. 

But Agatha knows — she always knows what you want, except for when it really counts apparently. She gets off of you and scooches on her knees until she’s situated behind your head, facing your body. And then she moves to frame your face with her thighs, her glistening cunt hovering right above your face, and she bends over to pry your legs open before leaning down and sucking on your clit roughly. 

You squirm and palm her ass to pull her down to your mouth, and at your first lick through her folds, she moans right into you, the vibrations making you jump. Eating her out while also being eaten out is an experience like no other you’ve ever had. Every single thing you do to her affects her, which in turn, affects you. 

The positive feedback loop has both of you sloppily mouthing at each other’s cunts, mimicking motions while also losing all sense of rhythm, and when she digs her fingernails into your thighs and scrapes her teeth against your clit, you let out a high-pitched sound that has her riding your face furiously. 

Agatha is getting louder too — you can feel it more than hear it, and you are completely drunk on her smell and her taste and how good she’s making you feel. You dip your tongue into her entrance, stroking against her convulsing walls before swirling around her clit and she pauses what she’s doing for a moment to just breathe heavily against your pussy before diving back in. 

All thoughts of anything else are completely out of your foggy mind and you feel like you’re floating, not able to focus on anything else besides Agatha. 

If you would’ve known that your dad having an affair would have led to you having the hottest sex with the hottest woman ever, you definitely wouldn’t have been so mad about it. 

“Oh, god, baby, you’re so good,” she says into your cunt and it only makes you grind up harder. She matches your intensity, riding your face fast, her clit dragging against your tongue. You groan in agreement and her stomach glides against your nipples while hers do the same and you know that it won’t be long before either of you cum. 

She nips at your inner thigh before plunging her tongue inside you and it has your hips bucking. “Fuck — Agatha,” you cry, barely able to keep eating her out because of how stimulated you are. Pleasure is racing through every ridge of your body and your head is spinning. 

“That’s right, honey,” she pants, lathering her tongue all over your clit. “Cum for me.” 

The tension inside you snaps and you cum, riding out the immense wave as she continues lapping at you and you suck on her clit, triggering her own orgasm. There’s a gush of wetness all over your face and she keeps rolling her hips, chasing the last tendrils. 

That was one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had, you think, and when Agatha flops down onto the bed next to you, breathing heavily, you think she might agree. 

“Fuck,” you say, completely wiped out, and Agatha chuckles weakly in response, reaching a hand out to rest her fingers against yours, not quite interlocking them. The two of you lay like that for what feels like forever, just soaking in the silence and the comfort of being right next to each other. 

You’re not sure who moves first — maybe it’s a mutual decision, but eventually you slide up to the pillows and Agatha turns around and moves next to you. Rotating onto your side, you hear the sheets rustle behind you and right on cue, Agatha’s arm snakes around you, holding you close enough to her that you can feel her heartbeat against your back and her breath on your neck. 

She kisses the top of your ear and you snuggle back against her. You know that you should put on clothes and clean up your mess, but for right now, you just need to feel her against you. 

“We’re going to be okay?” you ask timidly. It seems like it was so long ago that you were spiraling out of control because you thought she was cheating. 

Agatha’s arm tightens around yours. “We’re going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.” 

And you think you might actually believe her. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @vyvvycg

[sunsherbet]

Car Kisses

In which you finally kiss your outrageously adorable best friend.

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

CW: brief mentions of food, unedited

The high-top table was cluttered with empty appetizer dishes and half-drunk iced teas. You and Spencer had been here for an hour or two, working through as many small plates as you could manage.

It had been nearly two months since you’d seen him. He'd been buried in back-to-back cases, and you hadn’t had the chance to sit together like this in forever. Now, as the moon started to rise, you felt blissfully content. Your stomach was pleasantly full, and your cheeks ached from how hard and often you’d been laughing all night.

“Do you want a ride home?” Spencer asks as he places his card on the tab.

“First you pay for dinner now you offer me a ride? Careful Spence, I’m gonna start thinking you’re trying to proposition me.” You laugh, taking his offered hand to hop off the bar stool.

“If a man ever tries to proposition you with the bare minimum give him my number.” Spencer glances at your entwined hands curiously but doesn’t brooch the subject. You know you should drop it but when you laxen your grip he tightens his.

You grin teasingly, “Ah and you’ll handle it will you?”

“What’s with the face! I’m an FBI agent!” Spencer makes an indignant noise.

“Mhm and what exactly will you do, Doctor? Give him a strongly worded talk about the probability of them getting a second date?”

He pushes the door to the bar open and leads you out into the winter air. “Or maybe I’ll let them know that I possess an... extensive understanding of how to get away with murder.”

The wind whips across your face, and you raise your free hand to shield your eyes from its biting sting. Spencer quickens his pace so that his body blocks the wind, his hand reaching back to keep yours gently entwined.

“They will laugh in your face Spencer, you’re the least intimidating person I’ve ever met!” You call out over the whipping wind.

He clicks the car to life and you see the red lights shine through the foggy night. You sigh in relief as the warm vehicle gets closer and closer to view.

Spencer opens the passenger door and you shove your skirt inside the door before he gently closes it. Damn was it too cold to have a skirt on right now.

He slides into the driver seat and turns your face to his, seemingly set on finishing your conversation, “For you, I can be anything.”

You try to stammer out a response but all you can manage is a weak nod.

Spencer holds your gaze for a moment longer, and you take in the sight of your incredibly attractive best friend. His hair has grown since you last saw him, soft curls now resting around his ears. His face is a mix of sharp and soft features, with high cheekbones and a gentle jawline. His amber eyes, framed by long dark lashes, draw you in.

“Damn it’s cold.” He blows into his hands before flicking the seat heaters on.

Maybe it's the way his slightly-chapped lips form an 'O,' such a subtle gesture yet it sends a spark through you, making your thighs involuntarily clench. Or perhaps it’s the slow, undeniable burn you've felt for your best friend over the past few months, a longing that’s been quietly building until now, finally taking hold of you in a way you can no longer ignore. You grab the hand that was previously in yours and pull him over the console and into your lips.

He rears back slightly in shock, lips parted and eyes wild and searching yours for the reason for such a change in behavior.

You’d give him an answer if you had one yourself. You don’t, though, so you tug on his collar once more in response. Spencer meets your gaze with a curious look, but then something shifts in his eyes—something deeper, something more intense. Suddenly, his hand gently cups your jaw and he pulls you closer, melding his lips with yours in a kiss that feels both familiar and new.

The kiss is slow at first, tentative, as if neither of you quite knows where to go from here, but the warmth of his lips against yours sparks something inside you. His thumb traces the curve of your jaw, coaxing you into the moment, urging you to let go of everything else. You can feel the pulse of his heartbeat against your chest, steady and sure, and for a moment, it's just the two of you—no questions, no doubts—only the soft pressure of his lips and the quiet electricity building between you.

Spencer smiles against your lips and suddenly you actually believe that he could be anything you need him to.

[sibylsleaves]

good morning sibyl … prompt: sleepy buddie 😴🤩

omg yay....this is the one i kinda started last night because i was excited!! also im sorry hima...i broke the rules right off the bat because this is slightly over 1k 😔😔 plz forgive me....

---

It’s late when they make it back. Christopher’s been passed out since they crossed the state line. Eddie’s absolutely exhausted, a little delirious from eleven and a half hours in the car but so, so happy as the little house on Bedford Drive comes into view. He gets Chris awake enough to shuffle inside and get into bed, and then drags their bags inside, leaving them in the front hall. Everything else can wait.

Tomorrow they’re going to head straight to Buck’s in the morning to surprise him—Eddie promised Chris it would be the first thing they did when they got back to LA. He’s already checked with Bobby to make sure he’s not on shift.

He’d been too scared to tell Buck that they were coming home. Terrified that Chris would change his mind, or that his parents would try to stop them, or that something would happen to snatch it all away from him again. It hadn’t feel real, hadn’t felt permanent, until he walked up the front steps.

Now, easing down the familiar creaky hallway and pushing open the bedroom door, Eddie lets out the breath he’s been holding since the day Chris left.

The sight that greets him on the other side of the door steals that breath right back. 

There’s someone lying in his bed. Eddie knows it’s Buck before he can even understand how he knows it’s Buck. As if he could recognize him from just the outline of his sleeping body in the dark.

In the wake of his initial surprise, Eddie is filled with something he can only call peace. He’s home. They’re home. And somehow, it makes sense that Buck should be here, asleep in Eddie’s bed like he belongs there.

Moving quietly, Eddie sheds his pants and exchanges his road-worn henley for a fresh t-shirt. Then he moves to the other side of the bed and climbs in beside Buck. 

“‘’ddie?” comes the sleep-roughened rumble of Buck’s voice. 

“Hey,” Eddie says softly in the dark. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“S’okay. ’m glad. You’re here,” he says, or maybe it’s I’m glad you’re here.

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” Eddie says, settling onto the pillow next to him. Under the blankets, Buck moves, rolling toward him, tucking all that bulk against Eddie. Eddie wraps an arm around him, letting himself, in this quiet, unguarded moment, live in the spaces of Buck’s body, in the warm certainty that no matter how far he goes, Buck will always be his home.

He breathes in, letting all the tension of the last few weeks dissipate, and presses his cheek into the hollow of Buck’s throat. Sleep is creeping up on him, waiting to pull him under.

Buck lets out a little hum, almost a moan, and turns his face toward Eddie’s. 

It’s as natural as anything to meet him there, lips nudging together in a kiss that’s sweet and soft until it isn’t. Until Buck grabs the back of Eddie’s head, angling his face to kiss him deeper, until Eddie opens his mouth to greedily drink every sigh and whimper from Buck’s mouth, until he presses Buck down against the sleep-warm sheets and kisses him and kisses him and kisses him.

But sleep is still lapping at his edges, and soon the near frantic need slows into something languid and undemanding.

Buck sighs his name, sounding half a step from sleep himself, and they settle again, tangled together.

“I’m gonna tell you everything in the morning,” Eddie promises. Means it, too, when he says everything—everything that went down in El Paso with his parents, with Chris, everything he’s been keeping back from Buck because he couldn’t bear to tell him with eight hundred miles still between them. “But tonight I just—I’m home. We’re home. And I love you. That’s the most important part.”

“I love you, too,” Buck says, as easy as anything. Like it’s something he’s said a hundred times before. And maybe—maybe it really is that easy.

Buck hums again and between one breath and the next Eddie feels him drop back off. 

He follows soon after.

When Eddie wakes, he’s alone. It takes him a full minute to even remember where he is—not in Texas anymore thank god— and an additional few seconds to remember that Buck was in his bed last night.

That’s also about when he hears the sound of the kitchen door closing just a little too hard.

He’s out of bed so quickly he’s almost dizzy, stumbling across the hall and into the kitchen where he finds Buck.

Buck who is not, as Eddie might have thought, shuffling around in his pajamas trying to get the coffee going for them. Instead he’s standing fully dressed, shoes on, with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

Eddie leans against the doorway. “Were you seriously gonna try to sneak out?”

Buck jumps at the sound of his voice and then immediately goes rigid, his head angled down like a dog waiting to be scolded for bad behavior. “Eddie.”

“Well?” Eddie asks.

“I—” Buck chokes out, his shoulders stiffening, his hand clenched around the strap of his duffle bag. “I’m sorry.”

“For sneaking out?”

Buck nods, face red and bright. “For—all of it. For being in your house when you were—when you were gone. For sleeping in your bed. For—for last night.”

“You’re sorry for last night?” Eddie echoes. “Buck, you kissed me.”

Buck flinches. “I didn’t—I thought I was dreaming.”

“What?”

“When you woke me up last night I—I thought I was still dreaming,” Buck says. “That’s why I kissed you. And then I woke up this morning and you were really there and that meant I’d really, actually kissed you, and I—”

“Freaked out and decided to sneak out of the house before I woke up?” Eddie suggests.

Buck nods miserably. 

“And at any point in this freak out did it occur to you that the fact that you really, actually kissed me means that I really, actually kissed you back?”

“I—oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Eddie repeats, unable to stop the smile from spreading over his face.

“You wanted it,” Buck says slowly. “You…”

“Want it,” Eddie corrects, crossing the space between them and taking Buck’s face in his heads. “Really, actually.”

Buck drops the duffel bag on the ground. Eddie kisses him, as sweet and slow as he’d kissed him last night. Buck makes a noise that sounds like wanting and kisses him back, holding onto Eddie’s arms, thumbs digging into the soft parts of his wrists. 

“This is real, Buck,” Eddie murmurs between lush, indulgent kisses. “I’m really here. I’m really home. And I really love you.”

“I love you, too,” Buck says, and it’s so different from the way he said it last night. In the light of morning, the words are tremulous and precious, but still easy, so easy.

Eddie smiles, and before he can kiss him again, Buck pulls back. 

“And…you don’t think it’s weird?” he asks anxiously. “That I was, uh—living here?”

“Well, that explains the duffle bag,” Eddie says mildly. His hand finds Buck’s shoulder, his gaze finding Buck’s. “Buck, everything has felt wrong since the second Christopher walked out that door with my parents. Last night was the first time in my life that everything, finally, felt right.”

“Oh,” Buck says, eyes pink and wet. “That’s—me, too. That’s why I thought it had to be a dream.”

Eddie kisses him again and this time—this time the kiss turns from soft to molten. Eddie had been too exhausted last night to even think about anything more but now—now he’s definitely thinking about it. And judging by the noises Buck’s making and the way his hips hitch against Eddie’s, he’s thinking about it, too.

“You know,” Eddie says breezily, walking them backward out of the kitchen and back toward the bedroom. “We had a pretty long drive yesterday. Chris’ll probably be asleep for the next few hours. Maybe in the meantime, we can see if I can make some of your other dreams come true.”

ficlet february prompts

[babsworlds]

DELICATE.

pairing. Tangerine x fem! reader

synopsis. “Sometimes I wonder when you sleep, are you ever dreaming of me?”

warnings. drunk reader, mentions of alcohol, mention of throwing up, inspired by Delicate by Taylor Swift, this is short and bad, no use of y/n.

YOU HAD PROMISED TANGERINE AND LEMON, especially Tangerine, that it would be just one drink—nothing more. But your estimation had been way off, and now you were drunk as fuck, almost unaware of where you were.

Tangerine and Lemon—your friends, bodyguards, or whatever job your father had hired them for—were standing by the wall of the club, keeping a watchful eye on you.

At first, you hadn’t understood why you needed bodyguards. But over time, you realized that the attention from Tangerine was something you really liked. He had a certain charm that drew you in. Lemon, on the other hand, was always a good friend and great for a chat, providing a sense of comfort and familiarity.

“Don’t you think it’s time to get her?” Lemon leaned closer to his brother, watching you dance on the podium.

Tangerine exchanged a look with him. “Yup,” he said, fixing his tie and making his way through the dancing crowd to you. As you teetered on the edge of the stage, he grabbed your hand and effortlessly lifted you over his shoulders.

“That was more than one drink, love,” he reminded you, but you barely heard him, too focused on how dizzy you felt. “If you don’t put me down, I think I’m going to fucking throw up.”

Tangerine chuckled, making his way toward the exit with you still draped over his shoulder. “Sign you need to stop,” he said, weaving through the crowd with ease.

You got out of the unbreathable club, finally taking in some fresh air. You felt a bit better, the cool night air clearing your head. Lemon followed closely behind, ensuring you were safe. As soon as Tangerine saw him, he lifted you gently and helped you into the car, settling you in the back seat.

Tangerine climbed in next to you, his presence comforting as he looked after you. Lemon took the driver's seat, starting the engine with a reassuring smile. The car roared to life, and you felt a sense of relief, knowing you were in good hands.

You got sleepy, your head bobbing as you fought to keep your eyes open. Eventually, you couldn't resist any longer, and your head landed gently on Tangerine's shoulder. You shifted a little, finding a comfortable position, while Tangerine remained still, doing his best not to wake you.

Tangerine glanced down at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. He carefully adjusted his posture to make sure you were comfortable, his protective instincts kicking in. Lemon drove on, occasionally sharing knowing look with Tangerine in the rearview mirror, ensuring everything was okay in the back seat.

Lemon stopped in front of your apartment building, glancing back at Tangerine. "I’ll handle it," Tangerine said. "You work overtime anyway, go get some rest, mate." He assured his brother with a knowing smile.

Tangerine always had something for you, but he couldn’t show it. He was meant to protect you, and if he loved you, it would put you in danger.

"Call me if you need anything," Lemon said. Tangerine gave him a nod before carefully lifting you into a bridal carry and making his way to your apartment.

"You’re so pretty," you slurred, watching Tangerine with hazy eyes. It didn’t really matter what his response was; you probably wouldn’t remember it anyway.

"You too," he smiled, managing to open the locked doors even with you in his arms.

He laid you on your bed, carefully changing your dress to something more comfortable. He couldn't help himself; he found himself staring at you, admiring your body even though he knew he shouldn’t.

He brushed the strand of your hair off your face, stepping back. You reached for his hand, not wanting him to leave. “Stay,” you whispered, your voice soft but insistent.

He looked at you, hesitating. “You know I shouldn’t,” he said, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

“But you want to,” you pressed, noticing his hesitation.

Tangerine’s eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the room was filled with a heavy silence. He finally sighed, giving in to the moment. “Yeah, I do,” he admitted, sitting back down on the edge of the bed, his hand still in yours.

“So stay, please,” you pleaded. Tangerine knew there was some kind of risk that something would happen to you, and in the end, he was supposed to look after you. He sighed, realizing that leaving you alone wasn't an option.

“Okay, just give me a second,” he said, standing up from the edge of the bed. He took his sweatpants and t-shirt from your closet that he had left there earlier.

When he returned from the bathroom, you were already fast asleep. A gentle smile tugged at his lips as he quietly took the side of the bed next to you. He found himself gazing at you, his thoughts wandering to what you might be dreaming about. Deep down, he hoped that maybe, you were dreaming of him.

Because every single night, you were the one who filled his dreams. The way you laughed, the way you smiled, the way you looked at him—all of it replayed in his mind, over and over.

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

I hate this but I LOVE it

Because all of these years have built up to this, the culmination of the “Adam style” problem between Leo and Adam.

First season, Leo is shocked by Adam’s way of doing things but is so happy to have him back, he pretty much lets him do whatever. Things are so tentative that Leo just goes along with things, especially since he’s still processing that his best friend is even alive as well as his own perceived failures as a cop.

In the second season he is exasperated and frustrated by Adam’s refusal to involve him in his father drama, but out of fear he still largely lets it all go and defers to Adam until the showdown in the forest, where Adam arguably hits his lowest point in terms of the Adam style—and it horrifies Leo. Adam looks horrified himself by what he’s almost done, by what he’s forced Leo to do. All the same, considering it’s Roland-related, we know he’ll forgive Adam.

In the third season, Leo strays into trying the Adam style himself a bit in the investigation, but is largely able to justify his actions to himself and Esther in the name of saving Adam, and even involves Pia; it’s still to do with Roland, so Leo simultaneously feels a lot of guilt and no guilt about doing things Adam’s way, but maybe he also feels here like he doesn’t have the right to criticize Adam’s choices.

In the fourth season, he’s back in denial about Adam doing things on his own even as he knows Adam’s doing it, even as he knows Adam is keeping things from him, because everything that happened to Adam has made him feel guilty and tired—but he’s also getting weary of being left out, and the sense that Adam doesn’t trust him and maybe doesn’t reciprocate his care is wearing Leo down.

So in the fifth season, it’s mixed—we start with a terrible break between them at the lake, but after the little old lady’s car crash, Leo tries to adopt Adam’s style impulsively in a fit of righteous anger, with mixed results. However, by the end, there’s been a little peace made, because he’s realized that even if Adam does things his way, he does care about Leo and wants to protect him, so there’s an understanding.

Finally, in EdN, during a case that eventually involves his own team, we see that Leo has accepted Adam’s style, albeit within limits; he won’t let Adam turn off the camera during interrogation, but tacitly allows Adam to follow the suspect afterwards, and warns him of danger but doesn’t try to stop him doing things.

So here at the end of this season, we have a full circle moment, because Leo thought his friend was dead at the beginning and here Adam clearly is terrified that Leo could be dead he’s not allowed to be, I say so and as everyone’s been commenting, it’s Adam’s reckoning with his whole approach to things. Also, the irony has to be hitting him that it’s really only after Leo finally comes to terms with Adam’s way of doing things that it ends up hurting him in a potentially life threatening way. I bet between the events of now and next season, Adam is going over that case obsessively from start to finish (and Pia too, probably) trying to figure out what he could have done differently, if doing things Leo-style would have changed this outcome.

Because as people are noting, he’s never dealt with the possibility that Leo could be dead—in danger, sure, in FdG, and that’s where we see Adam get the closest to regretting his own methods, because of how they’ve influenced Leo’s. But all the same, even when Leo’s made it clear that Adam’s style of doing things has hurt him emotionally, it’s never been like this. It’s never been something that they can’t come back from. Leo has been Adam’s constant, a safe harbor, and now he has to consider whether his actions, his stubbornness about doing things “his way” and keeping people at an arm’s length, have effectively cost him the person he loves the most.

I think any “Adam style” analysis links up really effectively with the brilliant “he loves me, he loves me not” analysis by @justanotherprofessionalfangirl be sure to check it out!!!

Tatort Saarbrücken: DAS ENDE DER NACHT (2025) Adam und seine Verstärkung

[natalicss]

Like We Were In Paris II

kwon ji-yong x american pop star!reader

part one

summary: you and ji-yong have been dating for a couple years, and you’ve kept under the radar this entire time. after the gala de pièces juanes, you two attend the chanel spring-summer 2025 haute contour show. however, the two of you are starting to get tired of keeping your relationship a secret.

warnings: not proofread AT ALL! i’m way too lazy for that, sorry. celeb!reader, implied age gap (reader is mid-twenties), lots of fluff, lil bit of angst, use of y/n, i still don’t know how to use this app i feel like an elderly man using a cell phone.

word count: 4.9K

nat’s notes: hey y’all! i came back for part two AS PROMISED! this was actually very hard for me to write as i kept changing my mind about how i wanted this to go. so im sorry in advance if its not all that great LMAO. i do wanna write a lil more about american pop star reader & jiyong, maybe i’ll do some sort of head canons about them, or some stuff about their relationship early on. i’m not sure. i also tagged the people who asked to be & i will try to keep tagging people in the future (if they wanna be). anywhore, i hope that you guys enjoy this, if you don’t…sorry<3 toodles!

tag list: @infinetlyforgotten @petersasteria

After the successful Gala Des Pièces Jaunes event, you had spent the next couple days in dressing rooms. You had been invited to Chanel’s Spring-Summer 2025 Haute Couture Show. You said yes, of course, having an affinity for fashion, and never turning down the chance to be near your long-term boyfriend. You and Ji-yong had been to a couple of the same fashion shows before. It was always easy to slip by with nobody noticing your connection. Oftentimes, you two were not seated remotely near each other and are far too busy with the peers around you to sneak away. 

But this last week felt particularly more difficult. Unlike in America or South Korea, where you knew the paparazzi and knew very well how to remain under the radar, the Paris press was more complicated. You and Ji-yong had to weave your way around in more secrecy than ever. Every method you could imagine. Some instances, the two of you would sneak through a back door and slide into cars to avoid the cameras. Other instances, the two of you would make separate nonchalant appearances. Ji-yong would leave the hotel first, shy and polite as he waved and greeted the people around him as he’d slip into a car and drive off to his next location. You, wearing designer clothes and sunglasses as you walked out with a big smile and a more confident approach. You’d get in your own car, sliding into the back with your security with a huff. Within moments, you’d open your phone to shoot a text to your lover. 

Y/N

i didnt get to say it before you left, but you look handsome today<3

You knew it’d only be a moment before he responded. 

Ji<3

Thank you, Aein, you look beautiful!

You and Ji-yong hated that you couldn’t spend this Paris trip together more. After all, you two had all of the same events, same meetings, same friends to visit, and yet you couldn’t be by his side at any of it, not in public. Part of you didn’t mind, used to the routine, but part of you was starting to grow tired. It wasn’t like two years ago, when you first started dating. At that time, Ji-yong was still on hiatus, you were working on your fourth album, and everything had to be a secret. Secret vacations, secret visits, secret dinner dates where the two of you wore silly disguises. You were good sports, making a game out of it and playing ridiculous characters to see who cracked first. But that was two years ago. He was back in the spotlight again, you had released your fifth album a few weeks ago, he was releasing his own work. You two were confident in your relationship, everyone was. What was holding you back?

There was no black and white answer. On one hand, now was the perfect time to announce to the world that their rumors of you dating a random Hollywood actor were all false. On the other hand, were you so willing to give up that last piece of privacy you did have? You weren’t worried about the hate on either side, despite knowing how fans often get if they don’t approve of their favorite celebrities' relationship. 

You had been in a public relationship way before Ji-yong. It was years ago, back when you were still new to the world of fame and glamour. Every corner you turned, the cameras flashing, the wave of hate you’d received, the amount of gossip around every song you released being about them or not, their interviews for their movies always being about you. Your careers had been forced to blend due to the way people reacted. The world had taken your last relationship by storm and had seemingly strangled it with their love and adoration. The lack of privacy, individuality, and respect for the two of you had been what led to you and your last partners split. It took the two of you years before the media finally stopped associating everything either of you did together. So, understandably, part of you was worried about that happening again.

You thought about all of this as you and Ji-yong were getting ready for the day. You both had things to attend to, tomorrow being the fashion show. One last fitting, one last meeting with your teams. You were styling your hair as Ji-yong had finished getting dressed, the agreement for him to leave the hotel first still agreed on. He looked at you, and you could see the way his eyes softened as he observed your eyes. He knew everything about you, down to the way your face looked when you were deep in thought, perhaps about to drown yourself with your ability to overthink.

“Are you okay, love?” He asked, speaking in Korean first as he approached. You didn’t say anything, busy running your fingers through your hair as he quietly stepped next to you. He met your eyes in the mirror, his lips curling. “There she is.” You blushed at his words, putting your hands down as you finally turned your body to face him. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” He asks, reaching up to adjust your hair framing your face.

You didn’t know where to start. You and Ji-yong had talked about this a million times before. You two had always agreed to keep things the way they are. You weren’t sure if he was ready to change that. As he watched you get lost in your thoughts again, he tilted his head to meet your gaze. Your eyes were glossy, not all there as you already started mapping out every way the conversation could go, preparing yourself for every out come.

“Jagiya, you’re worrying me,” 

You blink. It takes you a second to come back to the present, taking a deep breath as you try to explain the heavy complicated feelings in your heart. “I’ve been thinking, through this whole trip,” You subconsciously reach for his hands, looking for comfort and something to anchor you down. He lets you, his thumb running along your skin in soothing patterns. “I don’t know how much longer I want to keep us a secret.” You blurt, staring at your connected hands rather than his eyes. You were too worried about what you might find. 

There’s a beat of silence. Then another. Your heart twists in anxiety, but you don’t dare to look up. Ji-yong’s breathing changes, only the slightest bit, but you notice. He stops his thumb from tracing its delicate patterns, instead letting it tap against your skin. You feel guilty. You both had so much to do today, this conversation could have waited til tonight, after the show tomorrow, or at just about any other time. You weren’t sure, but you knew this wasn’t it.

Ji-yong adjusts his posture, pulling one hand away from yours, only to bring it to your face. With the gentlest touch, he lifts your head so you finally see his eyes. They’re not angry, or frustrated, or even remotely annoyed. Instead, they’re as soft and warm as they’d always been, making your heart flutter the slightest bit. To be honest, Ji-yong had thought about this too. He’d admitted before that going public worried him. He was a celebrity, and that immediately brings its own multitudes of hardships. He knew that he’d keep any and all relationships a secret, unless the person he was with said otherwise. You had come into his life, unexpectedly, and changed his entire world in the best ways he could imagine. And here you were, the person he knew was the love of his life, staring back at him with sadness because of that very sentiment. 

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been feeling it too. He wanted to hold your hand down the streets of Paris, the two of you pointing out different things you loved about it, sharing kisses under streetlights. That night at the Gala, he had wanted to kiss you as soon as he was off the stage. And when you were finished performing? He wanted to part the crowd and sweep you into his arms, like he did at your own tours. But he’d been worried, worried about what people might say to you or about you. He knew how harsh they got. He knew you could handle it, but that didn’t mean he wanted to put you in that position unless you were ready.

His hand, which caresses your face with a certain level of sincerity you only ever felt from him, was soft and moved gently. He smiled, a soft gentle one that made you feel more at ease as you realized he wasn’t mad at you in any way. “It hasn’t been easy, has it?” He asks you, raising a brow. You only shake your head, lips pursed into a line. He studies your features like you’re a work of art (cause you are). “I miss every second I’m not with you. All I can think about is where you might be. If you’re smiling. If you’re anxious. If you’re laughing. If you’re thinking about me, too.” He leans in close, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And then you text me, and all I can think about is how lucky I am to be with you, and how mad I am that you’re not next to me.” You nod in understanding. You’d always felt that way about him, to the point it made your heart clench.

“I love you,”

“I love you more.”

You’re blushing wildly as he kisses your lips softly. Your feelings for him being translated into simple intimate touches. You’d never experienced something like Ji-yong before. You never wanted to let that go.

When he pulls away, he’s reaching for your jacket hanging off the back of a chair. You smile at him, memorizing his face like you’d done a million times before. You slide your arms into the jacket, letting your boyfriend adjust your outfit slightly. He focuses on your hair, bringing it out form under it and framing your face. Everytime his fingers brush your skin it leaves faint tingles in their wake.

“Why don’t we talk to everyone when we get home?” He suggests, looking back at you. Your eyes widen. You search his expression. “If you’re positive, then I’m with you.” 

You smiled wide. You couldn’t help it. “I’ve never been so sure of anything.” Your arms wrap around his neck, and he laughs softly as you start to kiss all over his face. “I want nothing more than to scream about how I’m dating G-Dragon.” He rolls his eyes playfully, still not used to you using his stage name after all this time. 

The rest of your days went smoothly. Both of you finishing up with your work, having dinner with friends, coming back to the hotel room to spend every possible moment together. Soft laughter as you each told stories from your pasts (many you’ve already told), legs tangled together under the sheets of your bed. Small intimate touches. Fingers tracing shapes on skin. Gentle kisses. Messy hair. If possible, your eyes were certainly heart shaped every moment you looked at him.

It was hard to hide it, even now, as you sit at the Chanel show. Both of you had arrived at different times, wearing extravagant outfits. You could feel his eyes on you as you posed for the cameras. He tried to keep his composure when he knew you were near by as he did interviews. Luckily for both of you, you’ve had years of practice. You held your head high with confidence, switching your energy from your usual softer self to the person you were on stage. America’s pop star. America’s princess. The way you posed yourself elegantly, batting your full lashes and gave your most sultry looks. How was Ji-yong supposed to not look? You were sitting in your seat, looking down at your phone as a text popped up.

Ji<3

You’re the most beautiful one here

You looked across the runway, your heart skipping a beat. He was already looking at you, a knowing shy smile on his face as he kept his phone in his hand. You smiled back at him, looking back at your phone.

Y/N

Says you<3 I love you

You put your phone in your lap, looking around some more. You felt lucky you had been to so many events, most of these people you already knew one way or another. It made small talk with the people next to you flow easily. Every now and again, you’d sneak a glance at your boyfriend, who was always staring at you like you were the show itself. It was hard to hide your blushed face, keep your voice from pitching when you talked to the other celebrities, and nearly impossible not to stare right back at him.

The show itself seemed to pass by with ease. You watched thoughtfully at every piece, making mental notes of things you particularly liked and wanted to mention to your assistant later. You’d lean over to your new friend of the night, whispering about different pieces and sharing your thoughts. You could see Ji-yong completely focused on the show, his eyes studying every model with intrigue. It was clear every piece that came out was being calculated into various looks. If he thought of something that worked, he’d raise his phone and take a quick photo. You smiled every time, excited to hear what he was thinking of later.

As the show came to an end, you were talking with your team as you felt someone graze past you. You looked up to see your familiar boyfriend, smiling at you fondly. You knew there were cameras everywhere, one minor slip leading to a whirlwind of chaos and news articles. The anxiety in your chest felt tight, but you kept your cool, straightening your posture and giving him a smile.

Ji-yong looked around, as if silently piecing together something. You followed his gaze, trying to see exactly what he was looking at. To you, there was nothing particularly interesting one way or another. Some fellow stars were talking, being interviewed, or just admiring the scene. Photographers were taking photos of guests, journalists asking people various questions. To you, it looked like every other fashion show even you’d been to. To Ji-yong, it looked like an opportunity. 

There were no words shared. His hand clasped around yours, and without thinking your fingers tightened around his. You blinked in surprise, looking ahead as Ji-yong started pulling you through the sea of people. You were wide-eyed as you looked around. Your teams hadn’t noticed you disappearing, but you knew that wouldn’t last long. But Ji-yong moved with purpose, walking through like this wasn’t strange or something other people should take a second glance at. You tried to mimic his confidence, but the butterflies in your stomach refused to simmer down.

In a quiet corner away from the cameras and the wandering eyes, Ji-yong finally came to a stop. You looked at him with a surprised expression. Your lipstick-painted lips parted slightly as you watched him look at you. He adjusted the tie around his neck, something he’d been doing the entire day. You looked behind you, worried who was watching, but a hand wrapping around your waist caught your attention.

His lips pressed against yours. Soft, passionate, and urgent. You squeaked in surprised against him, your hands landing on his chest as he pulled you further into the corner. Hidden away from your peers, from your teams, and from the layers of paparazzi. Your hands clutched tighter onto his jacket. His hands, which traced your body slowly, slowly lifted to grab your face with the most gentle touch. As he pulled away, you could only blink at him with big doe eyes.

“I couldn’t stand there and act like you weren’t the most beautiful thing here.” He whispers. 

The words caused your heart to do flips against your ribcage. His touch seemingly brought you back to earth, his thumb gently brushing against your cheekbone. “Says you, Monsieur G-Dragon,” You tease as you run your hands over the jacket again. This time, he’s the one trying to hide the way his cheeks blush. You looked at the bow tie with the flower on it, tilting your head as you reached up, slowly maneuvering the flower off. He looks down, blinking at it as you hold the flower in your hand, “Is that better?”

He reaches up, adjusting the tie again, and smiling softly. “Yes. Thank you.” He says finally. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know, the usual” You sigh dramatically, shrugging your shoulders. Ji-yong chuckles, nodding in understanding. “Got whisked away by a hot guy, can’t complain.”

Ji-yong raises a brow in amusement. “Is that what happened?” He asks. You look around. “What else would you call this?”

He steps closer, looking up in thought as he lets his arms wrap around your waist. His lips in a line as he tilts his head slightly. He narrows his eyes at you playfully. He didn’t have an answer. He rather liked the idea of whisking you away from the public eye. He did it often, though usually it was more hidden than this. You leaned into his touch, a natural instinct. The rest of the world seemed to drift away, even in moments like this. Only you and Ji-yong existed. Life was better with him. He knew you like the back of his hand. He knew how to make you laugh, how to calm your nerves, how to soothe your cries. He knew your favorite snacks, your order at your favorite coffee shop, and your favorite movies. The same could be said for you. You knew how to quiet his overwhelming thoughts, how to make him smile in stressful moments. You knew his favorite songs to play in the car. His favorite jewelry pieces to wear. You had his tells of when he was anxious or upset burned into your brain. And when one of you were around the other, everybody else melted into the background. Your love trumping anything else.

“We should probably get back out there,” You whisper. He hums in agreement, but neither of you make any move to leave. You lean closer into him, your head resting on his chest as his chin rested on top of your head. You knew it wouldn’t be long until the two of you were together again; a few hours at most. Lately, those hours felt like decades.

Ji-yong gave you another squeeze. “You go out first, jagiya,” He whispers. You pull away from his embrace, staring up at him. The way your glossy eyes sparkled up at him. It was like he could see every ounce of love for him you had, pouring out of you. He framed your face in his hands, kissing you softly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” You whispered against his lips. Reluctantly, you pulled away from his touch, looking back at him again as you walked away. He only smiled softly. Your heart yearned to stay in that corner with him forever, until your managers found you and ripped the two of you apart. You chewed the inside of your cheek, turning away from him completely as you looked for any sign of your team.

In the dark of your hotel room, you and Ji-yong were a tangled mess of bedsheets and limbs. The rest of the event blew by, you making some lame excuse to your team that you had gone to the bathroom, and Ji-yong telling his team that he was looking at some of the pieces again. You ended up having a romantic dinner together, talking about the event and the people you ran into. A quiet night with glasses of champagne and flirtatious glances.

But now, as the two of you were sleeping peacefully in your quiet room, your phones began to buzz. A violent series of notifications flooding both of your phones. You begin to stir first, rolling over slowly, pulling Ji-yongs arms off of you as you reached for your cellphone. A series of calls, texts, emails, all from your manager, publicist, assistant, even friends of yours. You blinked a few times, your eyes squinting at the bright screen as you opened up a text from your closest friend. A news article.

Unexpected Couple! Musician Y/N L/N Seen With K-Pop Idol G-Dragon at Chanel Fashion Show

You felt your heart plummet into your stomach. No, no, no. You had been so careful for so long. You scroll, your breath escaping you as you look at a photo of you and Ji-yong. His hands on your face, his lips on yours. Another photo of you looking up at him like he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen (he was, to be fair). For a moment, you just stared blankly. Your thoughts struggle to catch up as your body seems to react for you. Nausea came over you. The room suddenly felt too small. The words on the screen burned into your eyes.

You looked at the top of your phone, seeing another phone call from your manager coming in. You ignore it, reaching over to your boyfriend and shaking him. “Ji?” You whisper. When he doesn’t immediately respond, your eyes begin to water. The anxiety, the fear, the stress catching up to you. It crawls up your spine like some sort of ugly clawed fingers reaching for your throat. You shake him again, a little more harsh as you croak. “Ji-yong.”

His eyes shot open. He flinches awake, looking around the room in a momentary panic before looking at you. First, he relaxes, realizing it’s just you. Then, his tired eyes take in yours. The tears threatening to spill over, your shaking frame, your heavy breathing. He sits up now, looking you over in concern. “Aein…? What’s wrong?” As he wakes up, he hears his phone. He turns to look at it, but the whimper from your lips stops him. Slowly, you hand your phone over. Ji-yong looks at you in confusion, but takes it and looks down.

Oh. 

Oh.

What was once a comforting silence now felt cold. The incessant vibrations of his phone on the nightstand made your ears ring. You crawled out of bed, wearing one of Ji-yong’s shirts as pajamas. You paced the carpeted floor, running your hands through your hair. Ji-yong remained silent. He read the article. Then he reread it. Then he read it again. He looked at the photos over and over. The title. The numerous texts you were getting. For a moment, he didn’t know how to react. He sat in the bed, dumbstruck. 

On one hand, part of him wanted to be relieved. The secret was out, and there was no reason to hide his love for you anymore. But this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. It was supposed to be on your terms. Organized by your teams. Some staged paparazzi sighting, or maybe a hard launch on your social medias. He wasn’t sure. The two of you never discussed it that far. Now there was no choice. All because he’d dragged you into his embrace in secret. A selfish moment, now on the cover of multiple articles.

Slowly, he put your phone down, putting it on silent before reaching for his own. He winced at the number of texts he was getting, reaching triple digits. He even saw texts from Taeyang and Daesung, two of the few people who knew about your relationship. But he didn’t answer anyone, turning his own phone off so he could set his attention on your pacing figure. “Jagiya,” He pulls himself out of bed, approaching you with soft eyes. You keep pacing, shaking your head as you try to sort your racing thoughts. “Jagiya, look at me,” He reaches for your hands, pulling you to face him completely. His heart ached as he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks. Your eyes wide with fear and worry. You wanted to go public. But not like this. You’d done so well at keeping your life private, and now it felt like it had been stripped away from you before you could even do it yourself. “I’m so sorry,” 

His words caught you off guard. There’s a heartbeat of silence as you look at him. Your brows crinkle together as you look at him. His sad, anxious expression as he guiltily looks away. “What?” You whisper, a moment of clarity through your emotional storm.

Ji-yong swallows, looking around the room as he holds your hands tightly. Your touch being the only thing grounding him to this moment. “If we hadn’t, if I hadn’t pulled you away, they wouldn’t have seen anything.” He explains. Your eyes dance over his face as you let what he’s saying register. You shake your head. “Ji,” You coo, reaching forward to push his mint hair out of his face. He looks at you, eyes sad and guilty. “It’s not your fault. We knew that there was a risk. Since day one.” You remind him. You were right. Since you started dating two years ago, there was always the possibility the media would find out about the two of you. Both of you are major stars, with public lives (to some degree). “I just, I can’t believe it got leaked at a Chanel show.”

Ji-yong is quiet for a moment, looking over at you. “The photos are cute.” He says. You look at him in surprise. You think about the photos, how oddly scenic they were, how the photographer had captured a genuinely sweet and beautiful moment. You couldn’t help but laugh, wiping at your tears. Ji-yong cracks a smile, though the worry in his eyes still evident. Not worried for himself, no, but worry for you.

“Our managers are going to kill us.” You say, your voice weak from crying and still being tired. Ji-yong nods his head. “What are we going to do?”

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. “What do you want to do?” He asks you. Naturally, the two of you drift towards each other. Your arms wrap around each others frames, Your face tucked into his neck as you close your eyes. His grip on you tight, still gentle, and protective. His fingers rake through your hair as he waits. No rush for you to answer. No rush to figure out the rest of the world. He lets you simmer in his touch, your mind still racing. 

You clutch onto him, not moving away from him as you start to talk. “I want you. That’s it. I want to be able to be with you. I’m not ashamed of being with you, Ji. I’m proud. So proud of you, being with you. I love you.” You feel his arms tighten around you. Slowly, you lift your head and look into his eyes. Now, they were glassy. 

Ji-yong blinks away the pending tears as he sniffles. “You’re the love of my life, Y/N,” He whispers, reaching up to push your hair out of your face. You lean into his touch. “I will never be afraid to say that.” 

You lean closer, kissing him softly. Your heart still pounding against your chest, your mind still a storm of fear and worry for what wrath you’d face from the media, but it didn’t matter. Not in the long run. You had Ji-yong. You loved Ji-yong more than you could ever explain to him or anyone else. And you knew that the two of you would figure it out together. You’d figure out everything together.

“Are you ready?” He asks you, looking at your phones on the bed. This was it. No more secret rendezvous. No more sneaking around. No more lying in interviews about your relationship status. Everybody knows now. There was no hiding from it now.

You smile at him, your eyes sparkling in the way he loved. You nod your head. “I’m ready,” You assure him.

And by the time the two of you would be leaving Paris, on your way back to Seoul, the entire world knew the secret you’d been keeping to yourselves. And in the early morning as you rushed out of your hotel with your security guards, you two didn’t hide from the paparazzi. Ji-yong walked with you, hand-in-hand, as you walked towards your car. The shouts of fans and cameras catch your attention. You smile and wave, blushing wildly as you realize this was real. 

Ji-yong stands up straighter, his hand tightening in yours as he pulls you close. His hand releases yours, only to wrap around your waist tightly as he leads you forward. Ji-yong opens the door for you, despite the security guard reaching for it. Fans scream in awe, and you lean over quickly to press a kiss on his cheek. A weight you didn’t know was there, suddenly lifted. You beamed as Ji-yong slid into the seat next to you. His expression matched yours. Filled with love, excitement, a certain fondness and admiration. “Au revoir, Paris,” Ji-yong muttered as the car started to move. You giggled, leaning into him as you looked around the streets.

“Taeyang and Daesung will never let us hear the end of this.” You muttered, playing with Ji-yong's fingers absentmindedly. A gentle groan comes from Ji-yong, causing you to laugh again. An infinite amount of teasing and playful jokes awaited the two of you back home. Along with a million questions from friends, coworkers, the media, and who knows who else. But you were okay with that. It hadn’t been completely on your terms, but it was yours. Ji-yong was yours.

And if nothing else, it made your stories about Paris far more entertaining.

[daddy-dotcom]

Sports Car

Red!Clark x Female Reader

Warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected p in v, maybe like 1 swear word?

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

To say that Clark had been acting strange was an understatement. The once wholesome farm boy was now mouthing off to teachers and riding around on a motorcycle. It was almost as if his personality had done a complete 180 overnight. However, this sudden change had almost no effect on your massive crush on Clark. If anything, his new persona had only increased the amount of salacious thoughts that ran through your mind as you stared at him during class. You chalked up all of his typical chivalrous acts to him just being a nice guy. But his longing glances and lingering touches made you think that just maybe, he might feel the same way about you.

As the bell signaling the end of class rung, you were making your way out of the room until a familiar husky voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

"You're looking nice today, Y/N."

You turned around to see none other than Clark Kent sitting nonchalantly on a desk, eyeing you up and down as if you were on display just for him. Was it delusional to think that he was checking you out?

"That skirt fits you real nice, Y/N." He rose from the desk and walked closer, almost too close, to where you were standing, frozen in place.

"You wear that just for me?" he asked, now inches from your face. Up close, you could see his blushy cheeks and perfect dimples. His pouty red lips that you had daydreamed about looking more kissable than ever. Stunned by his brazen attempts at flirting with you, you paused a minute to consider your response.

"Maybe I did," you reply, shy smile forming on your face. Clark, in turn, began to smile back. It wasn't his usual earnest grin. This time, a sly, knowing smile had overtaken him.

"I knew it," he began, "I always notice you glancing over at me during class when you think I'm not watching."

Your eyes widened as weight of Clark's revelation hit you. Maybe your secret crush wasn't such a secret after all.

"Relax, Y/N," he assured you before leaning in close, "I've been watching you too." He took both of your hands in his before continuing.

"Look, Y/N, I've had feelings for you for a long time, and I know you have feelings for me too. So I think we should stop pretending."

Unsure of what to make of his confession, you ask "so, what? Is this supposed to be some all new Clark Kent?"

"That depends, do you like him?" he quips before pressing his lips to yours. You let him kiss you, hoping that this is one dream that you'll never wake up from. He cups your cheek with one hand while using his other to steady you at the waist. His touch even more dizzying than before. Your hands press on his chest to confirm that this is all really happening before he pulls away.

"You wanna go for a ride?" he asks. While you'd assumed he meant a ride in his car, you fervently nodded in reply, down for whatever he had in mind.

Clark took your hand and led you through the hallways and out to the parking lot, only to find a red sports car with the letters LEX XIV spelled out on the license plate. Confused, you raised an eyebrow and asked Clark, "what happened to the big red pickup?"

"Figured I needed an upgrade if I was going to be driving around with the prettiest girl in school."

Just then, you felt a surge of heat creep up to your cheeks and down to your core. He motions for you to get in the car and you oblige without a second thought. You barely had a moment to fasten your seatbelt before the engine revved and Clark took off. His driving was erratic which had you gripping the “oh shit” handle and squeezing your eyes shut. You could feel the car swerving and you just prayed to God you made it to wherever you were headed. Sensing your uneasiness, Clark's hand found its way from the steering wheel to your bare thigh. Between the new jacket, the car, his behavior, you didn’t know what to make of him. Is it bad that you liked this version of Clark? He was bold and daring and not afraid to make a move, which was exactly what you both needed.

As you made your way further and further down the backroads of Smallville, Clark's hand made its way further and further up your thigh. The tension in the car becoming unbearable as you spread your legs just enough to let him snake his hand up to your soaked panties. Delighted by the surprise, a wicked grin began to form on Clark's face.

"Wow baby, all this for me?" he teased. A breathy "mhmm" was all you could muster at this point because his fingers had pushed their way past your panties and into you. "Why don't we see how wet you can really get?"

He drove another mile or two before abruptly pulling off the road down a dirt path. When he finally parked the car, we were in an empty field just past a thick covering of trees. You moaned at the loss of contact from his fingers, but you could barely comprehend what was happening before his lips smashed into yours. His left hand tugged forcefully on your hair while his right hand went straight for your lips. Before he could even ask, you sucked your own juices off of his fingers.

"Such a good girl," he cooed as he removed his fingers. "Come here baby," he said, reaching for your waist with one hand and pulling you onto his lap with an insane amount of strength.

"We could share one seat,"

"Clark, who even are you right now? What is this" you giggled, pointing between the two of you.

He let out a chuckle of his own before replying, "I think you know what this is." And just like that, his lips were attacking you once more. This time, his kisses trailed from your lips down to your neck with his hands firmly gripping your ass. While his lips got to work on your neck, his hands pushed your skirt all the way up to your waist. You were both a mess of grunts and whines as your hips ground against each other in perfect sync. Inspired by Clark's bold actions, you took matters into your own hands and began unhooking his belt.

"Woah somebody's eager," he teased as his cock sprung free from his boxers. God it was even bigger than you’d imagined all those times you daydreamed about him during class.

"Shut up," you shot back before finally sinking down onto his length. It was at this moment that you lost all control in the situation. Your hips were bound by Clark's tight grasp and he drilled into you from underneath. He was fucking you with such fervor that you had grip onto his broad shoulders to steady yourself.

"Oh my god, Clark!" you practically screamed.

"Not so shy anymore are you, Y/N?"

Growing accustomed to his pace, you began to grind down on his cock as he railed you from below.

"Fuck, Clark, you're gonna make me cum," you groaned.

"I know baby, just let it out for me." His words were enough to send you over the edge, with his name tumbling out of your mouth and your juices completely soaking his lower half. But Clark was relentless. He kept pounding into you until finally you felt his cum coating your insides.

"Jesus, Y/N, I didn't know you had that in you."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Clark."

"We're gonna have a lot of fun together aren't we?" he slurred. You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before replying, "definitely. . .but we should probably get the car cleaned up before returning it to Lex."

"I wouldn't worry about it, I don't think he'll be getting this car back for a while." ;)

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AN: this is my first time writing for Smallville Clark Kent and it was inspired by a tate mcrae song that I’m currently obsessed with. lmk how I did <3