#and then later I walked past some other people and I heard them say that the liked it!

[karaeilishh]

TAKE ME BACK : smut

summary: you're going to a party with your cool girlfriend. When she stops paying you proper attention, you switch to a random guy in a bar. and she won't like it at all...

warnings: dom!billie, sub!brat!reader, jealousy, strap (r receiving), degradation, oral (r/billie receiving), r called a slut many times

w/c: 3,4k

a/n: eng is not my first language! enjoy this dirty shit <33

requests open!

“Hey babygirl. You look upset. Can I please you with a cocktail?”

You roll your eyes once again, sitting on an uncomfortable couch in the corner of some club that Billie brought you to because her friends really wanted to see her. You were on the other side of town and you knew that you wouldn't be home until morning, because it was well past midnight, and your girlfriend didn't seem to be leaving anytime soon. Billie was drunk enough and this evening you regretted not drinking alcohol. At least you wouldn't be so bored and lonely.

You've been hanging around your girlfriend for the last two hours so that she would pay attention to you, but her attention was only on her friends, whom she hadn't seen for a whole week. You didn't know why everything turned out this way today, because usually Billie can't take her eyes off you; You put your head on her shoulder, pressed your bare thigh against her thigh, you whispered in her ear, but you only got: “Babe, later.” Later? Fine. Your patience has run out.

You step onto the dance floor; hungry glances at your beautiful curves. Billie told you to wear that fucking mini dress that hugs every muscle on your stomach, your chest and parts of your thighs. Who can blame other people for their looks when you look like a damn angel? You don't even start dancing; you walk away to someone's brazen whistle; what do these men allow themselves? It's always like with a piece of meat. You want to go to Billie, but the thought of her telling you to just sit in silence again is maddening; you go to the bar. There are a lot of men, but you carefully walk past them and sit on the bar stool. 

“What?” You woke up in a few seconds. There's a guy in front of your face now, no, more like a man. He has an atypical neat outfit for a place like this. The club stinks of other people's sweat and drunk people, but it has a nice perfume. You don't know why you noticed it. His perfume? You can definitely feel it, he leaned closer, repeating his question.

“I asked if I could buy you a drink?” You heard him this time, but you couldn't answer him right away. You can't agree because you're here with your girlfriend, you're taken. But does she even care about you now? After all, nothing will happen if you just talk with someone at the club while your lover is not paying any attention to you. “Please don't tell me you don't drink. I'm not creative for another reason to get to know each other” Actually, you don't drink, but you can agree, right?

“Um, could you get a mojito for me? I don't like strong drinks.” The man nods knowingly and smiles. “Everything for a sweet girl in a bar” He signals to the bartender, apparently they are familiar. 

“Did you hear what the lady said? Mojito. And pour less rum” He turns to you, saying that your mojito will be done in a minute. You nod and thank him, trying to fight the strange feeling in your chest. It's like you're going to be punished for talking to him.

“You're very beautiful, but you're not talkative. I bet you don't go to places like this often?” He tilts his head slightly, as if trying to figure out what and who you're thinking about right now. You adjust your dress and look up at his face. “Yeah, I don't like noisy places.” His gaze darted to your hands resting on your hips.

“I get it. Well, tell me, what's your name?” His voice echoes in your head. You want to tell him that your acquaintance shouldn't go that far, you're going to say “No” when you hear a familiar voice behind you. “No.”The smell of her perfume hits your nose, her tired face with bruises under her eyes is in front of your eyes, her hair is scattered on your bed. Her voice is usually gentle, but not now.

“I'm sorry?” He's not looking at you. He's looking at someone behind you and you know exactly who it is. Her hands are on your waist, on your hips. She's only been here for a few seconds, but she's already been able to claim you. You can't see her face, but you know damn well she's giving your new friend a murderous stare right now. “Apology accepted” The next moment, she drags you through a crowd of drunk and stoned people right to the exit of the club. She's a little shaky because of the amount she's drunk. It's cool outside, but your body is burning because of her. Billie drags you on until you're around the corner where no one will bother you. Your body hit a cold brick wall, her voice cut through the tense air between you, you shuddered. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

Your fingertips touch the wall behind you, her drunken breath on your face. You didn't like it when she drank, but the smell of alcohol was never annoying. “I was just talking to him.” You sound quieter and more insecure than you thought you'd be. Your eyes are directed straight to her eyes, hungry and greedy, you are breathing heavily. “Is that why he's ordering you a drink and trying to find out your name? Have you even seen the way he looks at you? If he offered to fuck you, would you be so responsive?”Her voice is loud and a little hysterical. Her hands are in the pockets of her shorts, but you can feel how much she wants to touch you.

“You're exaggerating, Billie.” You look at her, your voice is cold, but everything inside you is burning. You know that she always turns you on like that, even though you hide it. “Am I exaggerating? Are you fucking kidding me right now?” She grins, her hand on your wrist, until she interlaces your fingers randomly. She takes you to the car and you try to tell her that she can't drive, but she shuts you up. “If you act like a slut, I'll treat you like a slut.” Billie pushes you into the car and buckles your seat belt. She's so damn angry, the veins in her arms are bulging, but she still cares about you, and this one makes your hips clench harder. It makes you wet. The air in the car heats up when she slams the door and sits in the driver's seat. Her gaze is focused on the road, but her mind has turned into your home.

The long drive home is accompanied by her rapid breathing. You can literally hear her heartbeat. You can see the different scenarios of that night unfolding in her head. All of them are ended by your face pressed against the mattress while she fucks you. Her hand squeezes her hip, she bites her lip and you feel what's happening to her. You know for sure. You gently take her hand and put it between your legs. She swallows hard, her fingers squeeze your skin and you melt under her touch. “You're fucking driving me crazy, you know that?” She parks the car in the garage of your house, and the next thing you remember is her all over your body, when you crash into the bedroom door, Billie, dragging you inside. Your body falls onto the mattress, your breathing is knocked out, and your hair is already slightly disheveled.

“You're going to have to apologize properly, angel.” You're breathing heavily, looking into her eyes with obvious desire. You feel completely naked under her gaze, which screams at you that you are a fucking slut. For her. Billie's movements are feverish as she pulls off her shorts, reaches for your favorite drawer in your bedroom. Your eyes widen when she picks up your favorite strap. His curves were perfect for you, hitting the right spots. You're looking at it greedily. And Billie saw it.

"Such a greedy girl for a dick, don’t you?" She grins as she puts the toy down on the bed next to you. Her body hovers over yours as she devours you with her gaze. Her hand flies to your neck, squeezing tighter than usual. "I wanna destroy, babe. I wanna fucking destroy you so that you learn your lesson." Your mind is drifting because of her words, you want to push her to do it.

"It was your fault." You look into her eyes, clearly seeing something snap inside her. Her grip on your neck tightens and you feel like you're getting less air. "What?" Her voice was so threatening that you were almost sure your underwear was already soaked. You knew that no matter how mean she was, she would never hurt you more than you asked for.

"I said it was your fault. You ignored me all night! What are you-" Your words get caught in your throat when you feel a painful blow on your thigh. You swallow hard, looking into your girlfriend's eyes. You've seen her lose control when you act like this. But how can she blame you when you're so desperately begging her to destroy you?

"You dare accuse me of acting like a slut, craving my attention? Well, you'll get it." Billie's voice drips with arrogance. She knew she should have given you some attention, but she's always been too much of a bitch to admit she was wrong.

She pulls you to your feet, forcing you to stand in front of her as she attaches the strap on her hips and sits on the edge of the bed. "You wanna be a brat, babe? Then I'll have to shut you up." She looks up at you, then leans down and whispers, "Knees."

Right now, you want nothing more than to drop to your knees and take her strap so deep that tears run down your cheeks and your knees are red. "I'm not being a brat." You hiss, looking into her eyes. You know this won't turn out well.

"Didn't you hear me?" She raises an eyebrow and pushes you down, causing your knees to hit the floor hard. You whine, clutching her knees for support. “Angel, don’t make me move your head on my own. I know you want this.”

You gasp at her words, tucking your loose hair behind your ears. You lean down slowly, running your tongue along the length of her cock. Your eyes lock onto her face as you slowly push the strap into your mouth. Maybe your slowness was on purpose. “Come on babygirl, I know you can do better.”

She rolls her eyes, grabbing your hair. Your head moves at an unusually fast pace. You grip her hips tighter, trying to slow her down and suppress your gag reflex. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to keep up the pace and not choke on the silicone in your mouth. You try to moan her name, but Billie just smirks.

“Good sluts don’t complain, huh, babe?” She pulls your head away from her cock, holding your hair. Your lips are smeared with your spit, your cheeks are wet with tears. You breathe heavily. “You are my good slut, aren’t you? Use your words.”

“Yes, yes I am…” You swallow hard, looking at your girlfriend with undisguised desire. You knew this night would be long, very long. “Very good….”

Billie takes your hands and lays you down on the bed, her eyes wandering over your body, your mess. “Such a beautiful angel for me. Too bad I have to ruin you.” She chuckles and you whine, squeezing your thighs together tighter. She reaches for your legs, lifting your dress up to your waist. Billie smiled at the beautiful underwear you’re wearing . “For me?” She smiles, spreading your legs and pressing two fingers into your soaked panties. “Fuck, baby, you’re dripping!”

You gasp when you finally feel her hands on you. You bite your bottom lip, watching her tease you. “Did you get wet kneeling in front of me? Or was it when I called you a slut at the club, hm?” Her eyes are playful as she looks into yours. You both know the answer, you both know that she doesn’t have to do anything to you to get you wet. “At the club…” You answer quietly and Billie bites her lip. God, she looked so sexy doing that.

"And who are you so wet for, huh?" She takes off your dress over the top, her mouth flies to your breasts. She bites it through the fabric of a lace bra. You moan, throwing your head back. "You, you, Billie… Please!" Your despair causes sincere satisfaction in your girlfriend. She knows that you will never want to leave her for someone else. She will make you squirm under her touch while you repeat that she is the only one for you.

“Good girl. Such a good girl for me,” Billie praises, kissing and biting down your beautiful body. She adored your body. Such a divine and only hers. You could feel the marks on your skin under her touch. “Bils, I need you. I really need you...” You're whimpering, making her smile.

“Do you think you can handle it?” She bites her lower lip, tilting her head to the side. Her gaze makes your body weaken even more. She had no idea what kind of influence she had on you. “Yes, yes I can, I promise!” You get up on your elbows to get a better look at her face.

“What a dirty girl,” Billie giggles, bending down to pick up the edge of your underwear with her teeth. Oh, you were crazy when she did that. Her every action, her every breath and look made you lose yourself in love with her. Even if she was going to destroy you right now. Your woman.

“Baby, you're so wet. Is my girl ready for me yet?” She smiles, easily sliding two fingers into you. Her palm pressed against your clitoris, adding extra friction. Her fingers slid inside you so easily that you were ashamed of how wet you were because of her. “Just shut up...”You exhaled heavily, covering your face with your hands. She laughed.

“Oh, my little slut wants to shut me up? I don't think it's going to work, baby.” Billie abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips. She greedily licks each phalanx of her fingers, moaning contentedly. You looked at her from under your eyelashes, still feeling the aching emptiness without her fingers inside you. As soon as Billie cleaned her fingers, she licked her lips, bending over your body. “You need to learn to watch your tongue, angel.”

These words sounded more harsh than anything else. Billie grabbed your hips and turned you over on your stomach. Your face was buried in the mattress and your ass was hanging in the air when Billie left a few ringing slaps on your delicate skin. “Hey!” You're whimpering, looking at her over your shoulder. “Oh, spare me those pathetic sounds.” She presses your head against the mattress, burying her hand in your hair. The tip of her strap teases your entrance, making you gasp with desire.

“Please, Bils...”You close your eyes, praying that she will give you what you want. “Not a brat anymore? It seems you just need a dick to shut that beautiful mouth.” She grins and you feel her cock slamming into you. Silicone slides easily inside you, making you grab the sheets and whimper into the it. After making a few slow thrusts, you feel Billies's hips against yours. She entered completely. “That's it, baby. You take me so well...”

You let loud moans fly from your lips when Billie finds the perfect angle, driving into all the right points. There are new tears in your eyes. A new pleasure. Your hair is disheveled and tangled because of your girlfriend's tight grip, and there is no trace of evening makeup left. She's always made you like this. She destroyed you with her presence, her voice, her gaze, her dick. “Faster...”

Billie grins at your plea, but obediently complied with your request, pushing into you with a new speed. You grab the sheets, looking at her over your shoulder. How sexy she looked. “Where's my sweet angel, huh? You're such a mess, baby.” You whimper when you see how she looks at you.

“Billie... I'm so close...”You're mumbling to yourself, praying that she'll hear. Of course she did. But she was such a bitch tonight. “What? Angel, I don't understand a word...”She was teasing and playing with you. You both knew what she was waiting for.

You want to sigh, but only moans come out of you. On trembling and weak hands, you get up on your elbows and try to talk to her the way she wants. Politely. “Billie, I wanna cum... Please, can I?” You immediately fall back, burying your face in the sheets, when pornographic moans come out of your mouth.

“Mm, such a polite girl... Cum for me” You laugh hysterically, feeling your walls squeeze her strap. It was the best feeling in the world. Your eyes are tightly closed, you literally bite the sheets, arching your back as you cum on her dick. You can't see her face, but you can tell for sure that she's smiling, watching what she's did to you. Not that guy from the bar, not anyone else. She. Only she could do it.

“Jesus, Bils...”You're breathing heavily, lifting your head from the wet sheets. Her strap is still moving inside you, helping you overcome a hard orgasm. “That's it, baby, you did so well...”She praises you by stroking your hair. It's one step from tenderness to rudeness, huh? Her grip tightens abruptly, forcing you to look at her through tears. “God, my poor baby. What a pity that I'm not finished with you yet” You're breathing hard, your mouth is dry, and you're sticking your tongue out like a fucking puppy after her games. Billie leans closer, her face inches from yours, and you already know what she's going to do. You always know what's behind that look. She collects saliva in her mouth for a few seconds and spits on your fucking tongue. As if you didn't ask for it yourself. Her warmth spreads over your tongue and you close your mouth. “Swallow” You obey and she gently kisses your cheekbone. The only thing she did gently this evening.

Billie turns you over on your back, laying your head on the pillows. She settles between your legs, devouring your body with her gaze. “Open wide for me, love” She purrs and you obediently spread your weak legs. Billie runs his fingers through your folds, collecting moisture. She brings her fingers to your mouth. “Suck” You swallow hard and take two of her fingers in your mouth, circling each with your tongue.

While you're engrossed in her fingers, Billie bends down to your pussy and runs her tongue over it, making you sigh and bite her. She hums into your flesh, looking up at you with adoring eyes. “No teeth, baby.” She grins and continues to devour you like a hungry animal.

Your sensitivity made itself felt and you tried to pull out her fingers to tell her, but she just pressed them against your tongue, depriving you of any opportunity to speak. You instinctively raised your hips, warning her. Your legs were shaking with pleasure and pain from over-stimulation. Your heels were crumpling the fabric of her shirt. You almost choked her with your hips. But she was just getting turned on.

Billie tapped your hips, giving you tacit permission to cum again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, showing you the stars of pleasure. You can't help but bite her fingers again, but this time she lets you, seeing your condition. She helps you get through your orgasm and gets up to put her head on your chest.

“I'm so proud of you, dove... But we'll have to change the sheets.” She starts laughing, and you can't help but pick up on her laughter, even though you're a little embarrassed. You gently run your hand through her hair, removing the hair band that has almost come off her hair. You put the band on your wrist and hug her tightly.

“You know you're my only one, right?”

“I know, angel.”

[wayfinderships]

Good Morning gamers! Hope you're all doing well! As for me, It wasn't so great at first but it's better now + 2 people complimented the painting I was working on! ;v;

[immoral-stranger]

𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 // 𝐋𝐍𝟒

Summary: “I got a nosebleed when you tried to kiss me. I told you — it’s like I’m fucking cursed!” — Or, in which an accident-prone girl stumbles and falls for everything, including Lando.

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem! reader

Word count: 23.2k (grab a snack)

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI ❀ Angst: injuries, hospitals, surgery, scars, blood, dead parent, mention of car crash. Smut: penetrative sex, oral (f! receiving), body insecurities, very vanilla. Fluff: idiots to lovers, so much pining and scheming. Other: inaccurate timeline and made-up race results. it's fiction, folks!

A/N: Posting this then falling off the face of the earth, because this fandom is scary. Kinda unedited for now. English is not my first language! ♡

Melbourne, Australia

Lando didn’t recognise you at first. Granted, he wasn’t the best at remembering faces, but usually if he’d met someone, he would remember them the second time around. Although, this wasn’t his second time seeing you, he would later learn. It was probably close to the tenth time. It had just been some time since your last encounter. For a logical reason, he would also later learn. 

Albert Park, 2024. Race day. That’s where he saw you this time. Walking down the paddock, next to Oscar and his girlfriend Jasmine, trying to keep up as the three of you made your way to the McLaren garage. Your hair getting messed up by the breeze, annoyingly sticking to your glossy lips, feet almost tripping on the seam of your baggy jeans. You were out of your element, putting on a brave smile — and Lando could tell. 

He didn’t realise he’d been staring at you, from his seat on the steps up to his motorhome, until you were out of eyeshot again, somewhere in the garage. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why you were familiar and it was killing him. If you were Australian, maybe that would explain it, since Lando had no way of keeping track of all of Oscar’s old friends. 

But you weren’t Australian. As he later walked into hospitality, he overheard a bubbly British accent talking to Jasmine and Oscar, an accent belonging to you. It confused him even more, really gnawed inside of him. He should know you, yet something wasn’t aligning, something wasn’t right. Oscar wouldn’t just fly anyone halfway across the globe. 

It all came crashing down when he heard Jasmine ask you a simple question. 

“Bunny, can you grab me a fork?”

Standing up from the table, you gave Lando a small smile as you caught his gaze, signalling that you at least knew who he was. 

Bunny, Bunny, Bunny. The nickname finally made him realise, finally made him recognise you. But you weren’t the Bunny he’d met at multiple races before. You didn’t look like she did. Or, you didn’t look like you used to. Bunny was Jasmine’s childhood friend who had gotten sick, who had stopped traveling, who had stopped coming to races at all. The girl before him however, wasn’t sick. You didn’t look weak in any sense. Nervous, fidgety, and out of place, sure — but never weak. 

As you were about to say a quiet hello to him as you walked past, Lando was already falling apart — socially that is. Words were stumbling out of his mouth before his brain had a chance to keep up. He cringed internally before he could even finish the sentence. 

“Holy shit, I thought you were dead!” 

He shocked you, that was obvious. Your eyes went wide as you struggled to say something in response. 

“Lando, you can’t just say that to someone,” Oscar chuckled from a few metres back. 

“I-I’m sorry, I just… didn’t recognise you,” Lando stuttered out as you still stood dumbfounded in front of him. 

“You don’t think I would’ve told you if my best friend died?” Jasmine butted in, standing from the table, placing herself beside you. 

She could tell that you didn’t know how to react, already expressing your nerves about how uncomfortable it would be to attend a race after not going for a very long time, afraid that people would ask too many questions.

“It’s alright, it’s been a long time,” you finally managed to say. 

Then, an uncomfortable silence fell over the four of you. It was like you knew that you should explain why it had been such a long time, but you didn’t know how to do it —casually explaining the second most traumatic experience of your, thus far, relatively short life. It wasn’t casual at all, and you couldn’t even try to fake it. 

“Ehm, I’ll go get that fork for you Jazz,” you broke the silence, swiftly excusing yourself to go back to the catering table. 

Oscar couldn’t stop chuckling and Jasmine looked borderline offended, something she tended to do, a resting bitch-face of sorts. Lando felt like the stupidest, most socially inept person alive, mentally facepalming himself as he watched you leave. This was going to be a long day. 

Lando’s race however, was frustratingly short. 

You and Jasmine watched the race from the garage, surrounded by muddled mechanics, blinking monitors and loud noises. It really was a circus, a well-oiled machine, fascinating to watch. You’d forgotten how fun it could be. Also, how nerve-wracking it was to be standing next to Jasmine while her boyfriend — love of her life, light of her eye — was going 300 km/h, head to head with insanely competitive people, in big death traps. 

The early races of the 2023 season that you had managed to catch in person hadn’t been too impressive, from McLaren’s standpoint. Your humble opinion was that anyone who even sat in one of those cars was more courageous and impressive than you would ever manage to be. As the last season went on, you had learnt to trust the process, but both you and Jasmine would be lying if you said that 2024 didn’t look like an even better year for the brightly papaya-coloured team you were rooting for.  

With both drivers in good starting positions and Verstappen’s brakes catching fire on the third lap, Jasmine couldn’t contain her excitement, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet next to you. Ferrari’s in the lead and McLaren fighting for that glorious third spot. It wasn’t until Lando had a chance to pass Leclerc that the castle in the air came crumbling down. Ooh’s and aah’s filled the garage as you watched the scene unfold on a monitor.

“Oh, fuck,” you said under your breath, knowing that barely anyone would be able to hear you in the crowded space. “Is it over for him?”

Jasmine had been too busy squealing over Oscar going into third that she failed to realise that it was on the cost of Lando. That was until his car came rolling into the pit lane with irreparable damage from making contact with Leclerc. 

You’d seen it happen before, but that didn’t change the feeling. Your heart basically lodges itself in your throat, making you unable to breathe for a couple seconds. And then it was the aftermath… Seeing the driver leave their car, head hung low, just wanting to scream at the world in frustration but bottling it all up inside. 

Leclerc wouldn’t even get a penalty, it was just how racing worked sometimes. That didn’t change the feeling of complete utter failure for Lando. You could tell that as he, with assertive steps, made his way to his driver’s room, slamming the door shut so hard that it only flew back open again. 

“Bunny.” Jasmine grabbed your arm to get your attention, leaning closer so that you would hear her. “One of us has to go ask if he’s alright. He doesn’t have anyone here with him.” 

“Doesn’t he have an entire team to do that?” you wondered. 

Surely, they didn’t send these drivers out without having enough support from the team when something went wrong. Surely, you thought. The look on Jasmine’s face told you the opposite. The fact that no one was running after Lando to his room was also quite telling. Or maybe… they knew better than to disturb him. Maybe Jasmine was setting you up for failure by asking you to comfort someone who didn’t want to be comforted. 

“He’s gonna need someone who’s not obsessed with performance and profit. Trust me, the people on this team may be nice, but they are not human when it comes to things like this,” Jasmine explained, and you took her word for it. 

“Am I the best option?”

You didn’t know him. And you were awkward. But so was he… Yet, you couldn’t even get your little brother to stop crying by making him laugh or comforting him — let alone a grown man, like Lando. 

“Please,” she insisted, and you could tell that she was serious. There was no point in arguing with her. Seeing the rest of the race with Oscar battling to keep his podium position would be enough of a feat for her poor emotions. She wouldn’t be able to walk away from it. 

You weren’t even sure if you were allowed to walk back there, but there was also no one stopping you when you did it. Your steps were the opposite to Lando’s assertive ones as you made your way to his driver’s room. You had no idea what to expect when you reached the already open door… 

… but Lando, sat on his little bench, racing suit halfway off, lazily scrolling on his phone was not it. 

“I understand that I’m most definitely not the person you would want to talk to right now, but Jasmine said that you were here alone and I just wanted to ask if you’re okay,” you rambled out way too quickly. 

It got his attention, looking up from his phone, but he didn’t say a word. He was mostly shocked to see that you were the first person to come talk to him. He had expected Jasmine, or maybe someone from the team that he wouldn’t want to talk to anyway. But not you. You had no reason to even be nice to him after how weird he’d been. 

“Uhm, so this is me asking that,” you reminded him when his silence got too much for you. 

“I’m fine,” Lando sighed, dragging his fingers through his sweaty curls, getting flashbacks of what had happened all over again.

You could tell from the look on his face that he, in fact, was not fine.   

It was toxic and harmful, that his first instinct when something like this happened was to immediately check his phone to see what people were saying about it online. But he had done it anyway. And sure enough, there were people blaming him — calling him reckless and a whiny little kid, finally getting what he deserved. There were also people calling Leclerc out, but Lando somehow couldn’t focus on it.

Because the thing he saw most of when he was scrolling through twitter was your face. Maybe that was why he was even more surprised to see that it was you standing in the doorway to his room and not someone else.  

“Do you know that we’ve gone viral?” he asked you, referring to the phone in his hand. He couldn’t help but let out a little laugh under his breath. 

“No?” 

You looked confused as Lando scooted over to make space for you to sit down beside him. You didn’t have any social media, and Lando knew. He definitely hadn’t tried to look you up after your encounter earlier to see why on earth he hadn’t recognised you. It had gotten him nowhere. You had no accounts of your own and Jasmine hadn’t posted any photos of you. He had stopped himself before searching up old paddock photos. So, it wasn’t a surprise that you didn’t know about the video that was circulating around right now.

“Apparently, someone was filming when I said that I thought you had died. It’s quite a funny clip,” he clarified, tilting his phone to show you the screen. 

He watched as you looked at the clip, a gentle giggle leaving your mouth at how ridiculous it was. Your smile then turned into concern, seeing the amount of interactions the post had earned. 

“Is that not bad publicity for you?” 

“I don’t care about that,” Lando said honestly. “But I am truly sorry for saying that to you.” 

Thinking someone had died was a new low even for him, and saying it to your face was just unexplainable behaviour. Yet, he still couldn’t understand why he hadn’t recognised you. Sure, he knew that you had been sick and then… probably gotten well again? But did that change your appearance? Maybe he just hadn’t really looked at you before. 

“I can’t blame you, Lando — I probably looked dead the last time you saw me,” you laughed.

You couldn’t remember exactly when it was, sometime mid last season. Right before it got really bad, but while your condition was stable enough for you to go to races. Maybe it was Silverstone. You had a vague memory of seeing Lando on that podium. You knew that you had looked horrible either way. When you thought about it, maybe Lando had never seen you completely healthy. 

“There was something wrong with your lungs, right?” he asked, wondering if he was remembering things correctly. 

“Just the left one. I had spontaneous pneumothorax three times in a year,” you explained, earning a confused look from Lando before adding, “Collapsed lung, basically air was leaking from the lung out into my chest.” 

He raised his eyebrows as you spoke. You made it sound a lot more trivial than what he assumed it was. 

It happening one time wasn’t actually that uncommon. Apparently, lungs collapsed right, left, and centre. It was usually a quite easy fix as well, not even something that required surgery. But when it happened to you, that third time — it was obvious that the problem was much larger. There was multiple surgeries and constant checkups. There were ugly scars and never-ending breathing exercises. 

It was a lot, for anyone. Even worse for someone just about to graduate from their bachelor’s programme. Your life had fallen apart, to say the least, and it wasn’t something you gladly talked about, so making it sound trivial was your way of coping. If Lando realised that was another question. 

“And I’m sat here moping about a DNF,” he heard himself mumble before realising how insensitive that might’ve come across. “But you’re okay now?” 

“One final checkup left, practically as good as new,” you said, putting on a smile. “You do know that it’s not comparable though, right?” 

Lando didn’t understand at first, so you kept on speaking. 

“Me, having a life threatening medical condition — and you, having a bad day at work?” 

Maybe you were the one sounding insensitive now, knowing full well that his work wasn’t normal in any way, shape, or form. But that was the opposite of your intentions, so you kept on rambling to try and save yourself. 

“You’re allowed to be selfish and angry about something going wrong in your life without thinking about how other people might have it worse,” you added. “Because let’s be honest, someone is always going to be in a worse situation. That doesn’t take away from your right to feel things about what’s happening in your life.” 

What had happened with Leclerc was shitty as fuck and if you were Lando, you’d be crying, cursing everyone and their mothers that even had a slight connection to Ferrari. But you weren’t a professional race car driver. You were an emotional young woman. What you were trying to say was that Lando had a right to even be a fraction more emotional than what he was showing right now. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Lando answered simply after a moment of silence. 

He wasn’t used to people telling him he had a right to be emotional. He’d been told since he was a child by people in the industry that being a whiny little kid would get him nowhere. Maybe you had a point. Whatever he was doing now to deal with his emotions (which was ignoring them completely), obviously wasn’t working with how he was feeling inside. 

“You don’t have to say anything to me if you don’t want to, just allow yourself to feel, because even I can tell that you’re shutting yourself out and I don’t even know you.”

Your voice was soft as you spoke. Your accent reminded him of the people he grew up around. That was something he hadn’t realised before. He was starting to think that he had been completely self-absorbed all the other times he’d met you. You were almost… pretty, when you sat there next to him in ugly fluorescent lighting. Maybe it was the way you seemed to actually care that made his brain a little mushy. 

You were scared to cross a line with him by saying too much, so you decided to retreat. Standing up from the bench, creating more space between you, you took a stance in the doorway again. It felt like you couldn’t breathe in his tiny little room. 

“I should probably go back to see how Oscar is doing,” you said, signalling with your hand to the garage. 

Lando looked up at you with big eyes, nodding understandingly. You could almost visibly see how he was holding back from telling you that he was, in fact, not okay. 

You really had no business pushing him to say something to you. But, something inside of you was calling you a coward for not even giving it a try. For not even giving it a second chance, trying to make him feel better about himself. It all reminded you a little all too well of something that your mother always used to tell you. Fuck it.

“My mum taught me to always linger in doorways for a couple extra seconds before leaving someone,” you said, feeling heat rise to your cheeks at the mere thought of how stupid this was. “That’s usually when people get to thinking about things they haven’t had the courage to say yet, since you never know when you’re next going to see the person.” 

You were over-explaining it, pressing your nails into the soft skin of your palms as you got nervous. You were trying to say that you always resolved to leave people feeling better than they did before you talked to them. 

Lando cracked a small smile as he watched you stumble over your words. He had now decided that you were pretty, standing in the doorway, your gaze oscillating between him and the floor. 

“I’ll ask one more time and then I’ll go — Lando, are you okay?” 

“No,” he sighed. He couldn’t hide it. “But I will be.” 

“It’s never okay after something like that happens. I keep on blaming myself for things I have no power over, but that’s got to stop at some point, right? I have to learn at some point,” he continued, voice coming across as slightly defeated. 

You recognised his mentality, Oscar usually said something similar after experiencing a setback. You still didn’t understand how he wasn’t more visibly upset, yet you now knew that he was harbouring it all inside. It made you feel better that he had actually said it out lout — that he wasn’t fine. You also felt a little bit worse, getting the feeling that his self-deprecation was far more severe than you originally thought. He blamed himself without good reason. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know you well enough to say the right thing now, but for what it’s worth, I’m so impressed by you,” you admitted truthfully, hoping you weren’t showing pity. He was actually such an inspiration, such an idol. Even when he sat there, looking like he had run through hell and back, fighting his brain to not feel sorry for himself. 

“Have I done enough lingering to make my mother proud, you think?” you joked, tilting your head while you looked at him. 

“Yeah,” he smiled. “I’ll join you out there in a minute.” 

Oscar had secured his third position and his first home race podium. Getting to see him up on that podium, covered head to toe in champagne was so special to you. Even though you were Jasmine’s friend first, you had really grown to love Oscar during their years of dating. Although, Lando never managed to make his way to the celebrations, something that lingered in the back of your mind. 

You had tried so hard to get it right, to say the right thing — to make him feel better about himself. That was more than most people did. He was used to people sucking up to him, but this was different. This was honest. You had no reason to be nice to him. You had no reason to even give him your time of day. But you did it anyway. Lando didn’t even think to say thank you before you left. He should’ve, because you were right. He didn’t know the next time he would see you, hell with your track record you might actually be dead tomorrow, and it was a shame if you didn’t know that your words had helped. 

Lando wasn’t sure how long he stayed in his room, sitting on that uncomfortable little bench. Letting his thoughts get the best of him while simultaneously trying to think of what you’d said to him. That he should feel, that he should think this through. He was just hoping that what he was feeling was healing more than it was self-destructing. 

He stopped spiralling when Oscar came back to his room to change, just next to Lando’s. He was covered in champagne, exuding pure joy of getting a home race podium. While Lando was happy for his teammate, trying his best to give him a heartfelt congratulations, he also couldn’t stop thinking about how that trophy could’ve been his. The first one of the season. 

What Lando didn’t know was that Oscar was very much aware of all of this, having learnt how to read his teammate’s expressions quite well after spending so much time together. He knew that Lando took defeat harder, or at least he showed it more clearly than Oscar ever did. He also knew that he needed someone to… turn on the faucet for him, making him feel like it was okay to spew out feelings about how the race had gone, without judging him for what he might say. 

“Did Jasmine come check on you?” Oscar asked, leaning in the doorway to Lando’s room. 

Lando would never be able to look the same way at a person standing in a doorway without thinking about what you had said about lingering, staying for a couple extra seconds. 

“No, uhm, Bunny did,” he replied, feeling himself smile for some reason. He felt odd using your nickname, as he had no idea where it originated from. Yet, it was just so you.

“What was that look?” Oscar laughed. Lando’s smile wasn’t just a normal one. Oscar could almost guess what had happened, that was just the kind of person you were. 

“She’s different from when I last met her,” Lando explained, feeling heat rise to his face as he wondered just about how transparent his emotions actually were. “Oscar, she’s trouble.” 

“This is about to be hilarious, isn’t it?” 

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Greater London, UK

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Lando didn’t have to wait long to see you again. On a week without racing, he decided on a whim to stay in England for a couple of days longer than planned after debriefing at the MTC. It was someone’s birthday — a mechanic, an engineer — he really didn’t know, but a bunch of people from the team ended up in a pub, drinking to their hearts’ content. It was nice, but most of all, it was relaxing. It wasn’t Monaco, where everyone had their eyes on him as soon as he stepped outside. He could blend in better with the masses here. 

As could Oscar. Lando had never really seen Oscar drunk before. Apart from now. Putting him in a cab alone and sending him home wasn’t an option when the poor lad could barely stand on his own. That’s how Lando ended up in his and Jasmine’s shared flat. Even helping Oscar up the stairs had been a mission, especially since Lando wasn’t that sober either. It was alright, they were young and without responsibilities for the rest of that week at least. The team leaders didn’t even have to know…

“Bunny is in the guest room, but you can stay on the couch if you want,” he heard Jasmine say from the kitchen, getting Oscar a glass of water, as Lando had just watched her wrestle him to bed. Jasmine was a short woman, but when she set her mind to something, she could move mountains. Or, her boyfriend.

It took Lando’s inebriated brain a concerning amount of time to figure out that Bunny meant you. You were Bunny. And he liked you. Or he thought so. He liked the picture of you that he had built up in his head after your conversation in his driver’s room. 

He wasn’t sure what you were doing here. Maybe you and Jasmine had a girls’ night when Oscar was away. He didn’t actually know that much about you, even less so when his brain was compromised by alcohol. 

Lando thought he was being sneaky as he walked over to the guest room, where the door stood ajar, but the wooden floors creaked beneath his feet. He could spot your head of hair peeping out from under the sheets, shoulders covered by a papaya-coloured shirt that he assumed was originally Oscar’s. Your eyes were closed but you weren’t sleeping. 

“Lando, I can feel you staring,” you almost whispered, cracking a smile but still not opening your eyes.  

“M’sorry,” he mumbled, suddenly feeling ashamed.  

You reached out to turn on the lamp that stood on the nightstand. Lando watched as you sat up in bed to get a better view of him, looking amused as soon as you caught his gaze. “Drunk?” 

“A little.” 

“Did you two have fun?” 

“Yeah, I’ve never seen Oscar this drunk before,” Lando said, letting out a soft laugh. He’d been like Bambi on ice getting out of the cab and up the stairs. It was certainly a bonding experience between teammates. “Jasmine had to wrestle him to bed.” 

The shirt looked huge on you, it was too big to even be Oscar’s. That was a nicer thought, for Lando. As you sat up, the sheets pooled at your waist, with a bare leg sticking out on the side. For a second, it struck him that you probably had no trousers on. 

No, nope, look at her face Lando. 

Your face was bare. If he stared long enough he would probably start counting your birthmarks and imperfections. It almost looked freshly washed. Maybe you and Jasmine had done face masks. He didn’t really know what a girls’ night entailed. 

“Your hair is shorter.” 

Lando said it out loud the moment he realised it. His drunk brain didn’t let him keep anything in. 

“It was easier to manage while I was back at the hospital,” you explained, on instinct reaching up to touch it. 

“Fuck, right, the surgery!” 

Oscar had told him about it and Lando had somehow forgotten. He could blame the alcohol for now. You only having one checkup left and being practically as good as new had been too good to be true. 

“Uh, how did it go?” 

“Simple checkup turned into an emergency surgery and two weeks in a hospital bed.” You shrugged, as if you had told him what you had eaten for dinner, not showing any signs of how awful it had truly been. “But I survived.” 

Lando nodded. “That’s good, I guess. Scary, but good that you’re good.”

How many times could he use the word ’good’ in one sentence? 

The both of you turned silent after that, unsure of what to say next. You watched him as he stood in the doorway, his feet tentatively moving as his eyes flickered around the room. You started to smile as you realised what he was doing. 

“Is this you lingering in the doorway?”

“I think so,” Lando shyly admitted. “Is it working?” 

You chuckled, still smiling all sleepily at him like what he had said was funny, or special. It made Lando’s heart hurt and his cheeks burn. 

Truth be told, you could’ve used some lingering right now. You had talked to your father and to Jasmine of course, but you still felt like you had this pressure over your chest for things you hadn’t said. 

You could’ve told him about how you’d gone alone to the hospital because you’d thought it would be quick, but ended up getting prepped and rushed into surgery before anyone you knew even had time to make it there to be with you. There had been no one there to hold your hand. 

You could’ve told him about the scar on your chest that was now worse than ever before. It was larger, more red, and way more noticeable. You’d cried trying on shirts before going to dinner with Jasmine tonight, which you hadn’t had the heart to tell her about. You’d wanted to cancel the entire thing, before sucking it up and putting on a turtleneck. 

You could’ve talked about it for ages, knowing that maybe he would listen. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Not right now. Not to him. 

“I think we should both go to sleep, Lando,” you said, yawning comically loud as you turned off the light before falling back on the mattress. 

Lando didn’t push you. Instead, he chuckled and said a soft goodnight. He knew he maybe should’ve pushed you to talk. He sensed that he could’ve done it. But it also didn’t feel like the right time. Not when he was drunk. Not when you were tired. 

His eyes longed on you for a couple extra seconds, you looked adorable with the sheets practically swallowing you whole. He then walked back into the kitchen where Jasmine was standing, putting wine glasses into a display cabinet. Maybe you weren’t entirely sober either. 

He took a seat at the kitchen island, slouching over as he rested his face in his hands. Jasmine smiled at him, tilting her head to the side as if to silently ask him if something was wrong. 

“Jasmine, has she always looked like that?” Lando said, unsure of what he was even asking.

“Bunny?” Jasmine questioned, leaning her elbows on the counter, scrunching her eyebrows in confusion. 

“She looks different from when I first met her.” 

Maybe you just weren’t sick anymore. Maybe Lando had just been a right idiot the other times he’d met you and not properly cared to look at you. Maybe you had been shy and he had been self-obsessed. Maybe it didn’t matter what had happened before. 

“Well, for a start, she has two working lungs now,” she argued, a laugh slipping out under her breath as if what she said was obvious. “Got the colour back in her skin and gained some healthy weight, I think.” 

Lando hummed in response. It made sense. You did look different. That was the only sane explanation as to why you were constantly on his mind. 

“Why did you ask?” 

She looked at him for an answer, her eyes staring him down, searching for eye contact that he wasn’t able to hold. He couldn’t help but turn to the side so that she wouldn’t see how pink his face was.

“Holy shit, you like her!” 

Jasmine let out a gasp as she realised, having to contain herself to not squeal and wake the entire building. Lando had nothing to say all of a sudden, his drunkenness not showing at all.  

“You’re not even going to deny it?” 

He quickly stood up to go to the bathroom, ignoring her question and hiding his dumbstruck smile. 

“Goodnight Jasmine.” 

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you felt your hands grow sweaty against the stack of papers you held in them. The costume looked nice — almost too nice to be on your body. Beautiful, sparkly platform heels. Delicate lace and trims on the dress. The corset showed off a waist you didn’t know you had. It wasn’t you, so thank god you were acting like someone else. 

“Go on, Magenta. Say your next line,” Jasmine urged you from her spot on the bed in your childhood room. The old canopy and fairy lights that decorated your bed made her look ethereal in a way.  

There was something heartfelt, seeing your oldest friend in that room again, now a whole lot older than when the two of you would play with dolls on your floor. When you dropped out of university, you had to move back in with your dad and little brother. It hadn’t been awful, but not ideal either. 

Magenta was the character you were playing in your local theatre's production of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. You’d been part of the crew at the little theatre for most of your life and now, when you had no classes to worry about and no summer job lined up for you — being part of a musical over the summer seemed like the perfect waste of time. You were going back to university in the autumn, so you felt like you had a chance to have some fun this summer. 

“…to sing and dance once more to your dark refrains. To take that step to the right...” 

Magenta was the opposite of you. She was bold, and sexy. She had a sultry voice and was dressed in a stereotypical maid costume. Showing off both legs and cleavage. It was a fun change, but a scary one too. 

“But it's the pelvic thrust… That really drives you insane?”

Jasmine couldn’t keep a straight face as she acted like your counterpart, starting to giggle like a schoolgirl, trying not to get told off by the teacher for laughing. The lines made no sense to her. 

“And our World will do The Time Warp again — Jazz, you’re not focusing!” you exclaimed, joining her laugher as you fell on the bed next to her, ruffling the huge amount of decorative pillows you had on there.   

“This was so much easier when you were doing Moulin Rouge, because then I at least understood the plot,” Jasmine scoffed as she looked over the manuscript, leaning into your shoulder as you both relaxed into the pile of pillows. 

“What do you meeean your character is a maid who is also an alien? Babe, why are they going to space?” she continued, gesticulating wildly with her hands at the pages. 

“It’s camp, Jazz. Or maybe just written by someone on acid,” you laughed. 

Rocky Horror was not the simplest of musicals to explain to someone who had never heard of it before. It was camp, and queer, and rock’n’roll. There were aliens, and virgins, and a man in golden underwear. It was a nightmare — and the most fun thing one could imagine. 

“Who have you invited for the opening night? I’m so sorry again that we can’t come,” Jasmine asked, turning over to lay on her back, staring up at the fairy lights. 

The premiere was only weeks away at this point, but you had known for awhile that Oscar and her were busy celebrating her parents wedding anniversary on the same exact date. She had kept on apologising and you had kept on telling her that is wasn’t that big of a deal. They could come on the second weekend, or the third, or any weekend during the entire summer. It didn’t matter to you.

“Don’t apologise,” you reassured her. “I haven’t invited anyone. Dad has to go with Matteo to his first ever football game.” 

Matteo was your little brother. He was the sweetest kid you knew, albeit biased. He was also the most anxious kid you knew, so you could already guess that performing well during his game would be important to him. Your father had to be there, even for your own sanity. 

“But you need someone there, cheering you on. This is a big deal!” 

It really wasn’t. You’d done it alone before. 

“Jazz, Matteo is 10. He needs dad there more than I do,” you remarked. 

“I didn’t just mean your dad. You need someone there in general, Bunny.” 

You really didn’t. You’d done a lot of things without someone holding your hand along the way. 

“Lando should be in England on that day, y’know, some MTC thing,” Jasmine hinted, her gaze catching yours. 

You thought you heard her wrong at first. She never talked about Lando casually. From what you had gathered, he and Oscar hadn’t even been that close up until the start of this season. Now, you knew that they hung out, but what did that have to do with you and your little musical? 

“Huh? That’s just absurd. He would hate it.” 

If you were allowed to be judgmental for a moment, you would assume that Lando had never seen a musical in his life. Let alone something as weird as Rocky Horror. You also didn’t understand at all why he should come watch you, on his own. That would honestly just make you feel like the joke was on you. 

“I think he likes you,” she commented plainly, as if it was clear as day and not at all something from her wildest imagination. 

She might as well have been speaking Greek. You did not understand Greek. 

“Why would he like me?” you squeaked, your eyes going wide.  

“You’re hot and funny, maybe a bit odd, but people like that. Why wouldn’t he like you?” 

“I’m sat here flipping pages of a manuscript, while he is flipping some model over in bed,” you expressed, throwing your copy of the script at her.  

Maybe that was harsh. You didn’t know Lando well enough to say something like that with confidence. But, you did know yourself well enough to say that you weren’t his type. 

“So, what? He could flip you over!”

You snorted in response, hiding your laugh. Jasmine was being ridiculous right now.  

“It’s like you lost all your confidence when you got sick,” she said, her voice suddenly softened. “Remember our trip to Malaga? That Bunny would’ve jumped on his dick without thinking twice.” 

It was crazy how she could make your trip to Malaga sound sentimental, or like an old memory of how you used to be. Malaga had been anything but orthodox. A group of teenage girls — too young to be drinking, making questionable decisions and racking up their body counts. 

“I guess I grew up, Jasmine. I also shouldn’t do something reckless with Oscar’s teammate.” You shrugged, standing up, ready to be over with this conversation and to start rehearsing again. 

“That is if he actually fancied me, which he does not,” you decided. 

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Lando didn’t know what he was doing. When he sneakily asked Oscar if he was doing something after their meetings, he had really been thinking about you. In his mind, maybe they could’ve done something the four of them, so it wouldn’t be as obvious that it was you he wanted to see again. 

But Oscar had an anniversary dinner to go to with Jasmine. And you — you were in some off off-West End musical. He really had to get to know you better, because that was not something he would have ever imagined about you. 

Not that he was imagining you doing things… 

Oscar had told him to go. Lando had questioned his entire existence. 

Yet, he still somehow ended up outside of the small theatre on a Friday night. He wasn’t even sure if he was technically still in London, that’s how remote the little community he was in felt. Going out clubbing with Max was his plan B, if this turned out to be as ridiculous as it sounded. 

The Rocky Horror Picture Show — that was what the poster outside said. Nothing but a big pair of messily painted red lips were on it. He had no idea what he was in for and Google hadn’t been much help. It looked like a mixture of the story about Frankenstein’s monster and a drag queen show. 

He was early, arriving right in the middle of the final dress rehearsal. Something that Oscar had recommended he did, to not get recognised as much and to be able to leave swiftly if he turned out to absolutely hate it. Lando wondered how much of an avid musical-goer Oscar was, or maybe he had just gone to yours. 

The theatre was small, probably not more than a hundred seats. It was classic looking, with red velvet chairs and heavy curtains lining the stage. He slid into one of the seats at the very back, looking with anticipation at the stage. The room was maybe filled to one third with what he mostly assumed were the cast’s friends and family. 

The stage was decorated with delicately handmade props. It showed a grand hall with checkered flooring, a wooden staircase at the back. Multiple odd sculptures and a wonky replica of the Mona Lisa. All under bright red lighting. 

Lando didn’t even have time to take it all in before actors entered the stage. 

“Are you having a party?” said a girl in a baby pink dress and a comically blonde wig. Her voice was so high and brittle that it was almost annoying. 

“You’ve arrived on a rather special night. It’s one of the master’s affairs,” answered a man with a fake hunchback, his long white hair making him look nothing but creepy. 

“Oh, lucky him,” said the girl again. 

That’s when he heard a voice he recognised. A voice belonging to you. Sliding down the bannister of the stairs, you whipped an old-timey feather duster around.

“You're lucky. He's lucky. I'm lucky. We're all lucky!” you practically yelled as you made your way to the girl, who looked positively terrified by you. Her looser boyfriend (Lando assumed), who stood by her side looked even more frightened. 

It had been two minutes and Lando already rooted for the weird people — meaning you and the man with the hunchback. You were in what he would call a… slutty maid costume. Except it wasn’t slutty; it was more artful. What was he even thinking? 

Your wig was large and curly, the dark red colour of it suited you well. Your makeup was dramatic, and your entire costume was covered in silver sequins and glitter. You were not the nervous, out-of-her-element girl that he had seen in Australia a couple months ago. Right now, you were acting completely like someone else. And you were damn good at it. 

Much like he imagined a musical to be, the conversation immediately turned into song. The Time Warp, he had heard of that one before. The stage flooded with an ensemble of dancers, dressed in tuxedos. The plot of this musical was still something completely alien. Maybe it barely had a plot.

Lando couldn’t decide if he loved it or hated it. He felt like maybe that was the entire point of the show. Like it was supposed to be annoying, but also so colourful and odd that you couldn’t help but be amazed by it.  

Even with so much happening on stage, all he could focus on was you. You didn’t dance or sing like someone who’d injured her lungs not that long ago. You performed like you loved it, having a hard time hiding your smile even if your character was more of a moody type. 

Lando, too, found himself smiling. He was astonished by how such a small production still could archive basically perfection. The singing, the choreography — it was like watching something prerecorded. It had to be a passion project for all of you, because he wasn’t sure small theatre productions were the most lucrative thing. 

At the end of the number, the dance ended with everyone falling to the floor. That’s when it happened, when he for the first time in the performance, heard something that didn’t sound like perfection. No, that was the sound of someone in pain. 

His eyes tried to find you in the pile of bodies on the stage. 

You’d practiced it a million times. Falling over — gracefully that is — in high heels wasn’t the easiest of tasks. But never once before had it hurt like his. A stinging pain that never ended, so you couldn’t help but scream. It gathered everyone’s attention, quickly stopping the act and flicking on the normal lights. 

A broken ankle. Your broken ankle and your yelping voice. It hurt like hell.

You could see how the people around you started to panic, talking about a first aid kit and getting a stand-in ready to take your place. You couldn’t focus on anything but the pain, your eyes filled up with tears, clouding your vision. 

God, you would pass out if this pain didn’t stop. 

Lando watched it all unfold from his seat. Seeing you sat in the middle of the stage, clenching your hands over your foot, tears falling down your cheeks, taking your mascara with them. 

Ironically, something started to hurt inside of Lando, and he didn’t know how to react. Could he sneak out so you wouldn’t have known he was here? No, no. He was going to see if he could be of any help. That was the only right thing to do. In seconds, he had left his seat and started to march down to the stage. 

“Lando?”

Your voice was pathetic. Your tears clogged your throat and you felt ashamed, so fucking ashamed. 

You knew that Jasmine had talked to Oscar, and that Oscar had talked to Lando. But seeing him by the edge of the stage, a worried look on his face, wasn’t something you actually thought would happen. You did not understand why he would’ve wanted to come. 

“Is your foot okay? The fall looked pretty bad,” Lando said as he crouched down in front of you, looking more at your face than at your ankle so as not to scare you more than what was already inevitable.  

“You saw me fall? Oh fuck, why are you even here?” you groaned in pain. 

You didn’t mean for it to come across as rude — you just didn’t have much of a choice over your emotions right now. It was nice that he was there, so fucking nice. 

“Oscar told me to come — I mean, I wanted to come too,” he emphasised. 

Lando didn’t exactly know how to help you now that he had waltzed up on the stage like some knight in shining armour. He looked around to see a man in his mid-thirties come forward with a bright red first aid kit. He tried not to raise his eyebrows too much at the man — dressed in his costume, looking like if Elvis Presley had been in a motorcycle gang.  

The man tried not to look too much at Lando either — having known you most of your life and never once seen you bring a boy to the theatre. 

“Darling, that’s broken,” the man said as soon as he got a view of your ankle. 

Lando could’ve said the same thing. 

“No, it’s not Eddie. Just bruised I think,” you tried to tell yourself, and Eddie.  

Eddie, whose character in the musical coincidentally was also named Eddie, was your on-sight medic, working as a nurse when he was not busy acting and singing in his studded leather vest and greaser-like hairstyle. 

Bruising meant you could suffer through it. Broken meant spending the summer in a cast and missing every single one of your performances. That’s what you got for wanting to have a fun, selfish summer for once in your life. 

“Bunny, I don’t know how to tell you this in a nicer way — but it’s broken,” Eddie persisted, rummaging through the first aid kit for something to help with the pain. 

“B-but the show…” 

You said it quietly, but Lando heard. Your voice was heartbreaking. 

It showed how much this meant to you, and he realised now that you were probably embarrassed. He drew parallels to his own life and career, and how much a clumsy mistake could leave its marks for a long time forward. Even if this was only a hobby, it was still important. 

“I can wrap it up for you, but it won’t heal unless you go to a hospital,” he continued, not waiting for an answer before he began to gently move your foot. 

You whimpered in pain, biting down on your lower lip to not scream as it shifted. Grasping for just about anything to hold on to, you found Lando’s hand. You didn’t have time to think it through, but Lando had a lifetime. 

Your nails were painted black to match your costume, and your hand felt so small and cold in his own, yet you were strong as hell as you gripped his fingers in pain. He suffered through it, knowing that what you were feeling was a million times worse. 

Eddie wrapped your ankle in a tight bandage. Lando could tell that he’d done it before. Some girl had found a bag of frozen peas in the staffroom freezer, that he then strapped over it to ease the pain. By the look on your face, it did absolutely nothing. 

“I’ll drive you to A&E,” Lando offered without thinking twice. He could see Max some other time. 

Then it was the trouble of getting you down the stage and out of the building. Eddie throwing you over his shoulder could’ve maybe worked, but you had this thing called dignity. 

So, with one arm around Lando and the other one around Eddie, you hopped your way out of there on one foot, cursing Mother Earth herself every time you accidentally touched the ground with the injured one. 

“You’re supposed to go to a UTC with broken bones,” you pointed out when you remembered it, feeling the need to correct Lando.  

“You’ve broken a bone before?” Lando asked. 

Eddie didn’t have to ask because he already knew about your history with hospitals. 

“Twice. My wrist once from falling off a trampoline, and a finger from shutting a car door on it,” you explained. 

“You’re a walking emergency, aren’t you?” Lando said, like he was joking. 

It wasn’t really a joke to you anymore, though. 

“You don’t know the half of it,” you mumbled, thinking he wouldn’t hear you. 

But he did, and it got him thinking. 

You couldn’t help but laugh as you got out to the parking lot. In your periphery, you could see how Eddie’s jaw dropped. A bright orange McLaren was not what you had expected to see, but then again, you couldn’t have said what you expected instead. The man was a Formula 1 driver, for Christ's sake. 

Eddie kept his mouth shut, but the look he gave you said something along the lines of you have a lot to explain, young lady. You would have no idea how to explain how you ended up here, even if you wanted to tell him. 

“Lando…” you said to get his attention. “I don’t think I can get in this car without it hurting like hell.” 

“I borrowed it for the weekend. I didn’t think—” he stopped himself, unsure of how to continue. 

I didn’t think you would break a bone and I’d have to drive you? 

Yeah, no. He couldn’t say that. 

“I was about to tell you to just shove me in the backseat, but it doesn’t even have one,” you tried to joke, earning small smiles from both Lando and Eddie. 

Just as getting out of the building, slow and steady won the race. Only this time, you weren’t only cursing Mother Earth but Lando and Eddie too, blaming them for whenever your foot nudged something. You hoped they could take it lightheartedly because you weren’t angry or mad at them. You were angry at yourself. 

“You, young man — take care of our best performer, okay?” Eddie said to Lando as he shut the door on your side. 

You scoffed at his wording. He knew he didn’t need to take on the role as a protective older brother-like figure in your life, but you kind of liked it when he did. Lando probably met a lot of important and intimidating people with his choice of career, yet Eddie felt different. He had no actual influence, but he had a heart that cared for you. Lando couldn’t joke that away. 

“I will, sir.” 

The UTC was relatively calm for a Friday evening, so you didn’t have to wait long until you were rushed into a room to be assessed and treated. Nurse after nurse who saw your ankle said the same thing, get x-rays, evaluate, and hope it’s not surgical. 

Lando didn’t say much, only helping you explain what had happened when your pain made you unable to form coherent sentences. He stayed by your side, though. You had half-expected him to leave as soon as you got there, making up some excuse about being busy. 

But he never did. 

You even had to convince him to leave to get your bag that you had left in his car. He was unsure about leaving you alone the first couple of times you mentioned it. 

But you wanted to get your makeup off, and fix your hair which had been left a mess after you’d taken the wig off. You’d thought about that part, but the maid’s costume was still on your body. At least the nurses got a good laugh out of it — a barefoot, glittery maid with makeup smeared all over her face and a packet of peas strapped to her ankle. 

When you were rolled off to get x-rays taken, Lando finally agreed to go outside and get it. It wasn’t like he was allowed to go with you anyway. 

“Thank you,” you said as he handed you the bag. “The x-rays will take a while, but the doctor said it is most likely a simple fracture and I will only need a cast.” 

You immediately took out a makeup wipe and a comb. The braids you had on under the wig were starting to feel very stiff, giving you a headache. Or maybe you were just tense because of all the other pain you were feeling. 

“That’s good.” He nodded, taking a seat on the edge of the hospital bed. “Did they give you anything for the pain?” 

You giggled a little, rolling your eyes, overplaying how loopy you were. “Can you already tell?” 

“Just a little.” He pinched his fingers, showing just how little. “Do you want help with that?” 

“You don’t have to—” you tried to tell him, but his hands had already undone one of the hair ties, his fingers moving gently to separate the braided hair. 

He scooted behind you to reach better as you continued to take off the makeup, the wipe quickly turning a messy mixture of red and black with how much product was actually on your face. Stage makeup was no joke. His fingers through your hair sent shivers down your spine, but you tried not to think too much about it. He was just being nice. That’s all he’d been the entire evening. 

“You probably have better things to do on a Friday night,” you mumbled. 

Lando shook his head, and then he figured you couldn’t see it as he sat behind you. 

“I called Oscar when I went out. He said he would tell your parents.” 

“Parent. My mother’s not alive,” you whispered. “But that’s good, I guess. Did Oscar say anything else?” 

You didn’t give Lando any time to think or ask about what you had said. That was on purpose. He wouldn’t have known what to say anyway, with every possible sentence coming to mind feeling insensitive or way too pitiful. 

“No, not really,” Lando replied. 

That Oscar had made fun of him, for getting to play a knight in shining armour as you were a damsel in distress, was something he opted out of telling you. 

“He didn’t say that this was typical of me?” you muttered, rubbing your face in obvious distress. 

Lando was done undoing the braids so he could move to see your face again, seeing it streaky and glittery from you having wiped off the makeup without a mirror at hand. He reached for a clean wipe, his eyes silently asking you if it was okay if he helped. 

“I just… I can’t fucking believe it.” You exhaled from your nose as he wiped your undereyes clean from glitter.  

“It’s always like this,” you continued, showing frustration. “Whenever I’m about to accomplish something in life, I always get injured.”

“I don’t believe that—” 

You cut him off by explaining, “Well, I fucked up my lungs right as I was about to graduate.” 

“You didn’t fuck them up. Things like that just happen,” Lando interjected. 

“I lost my voice on the second show the last time I did a musical. Had to give up a leading role for one that was just dancing, no singing,” you counter-argued, proving that it wasn’t just some one-time thing. 

Lando looked at you, waiting to see if you could come up with more examples before he told you that it wasn’t fate that got you injured. They were coincidences. 

“My wrist was broken when I took my A-level exams, that was hell on earth,” you said, raising a finger of conviction. “Oh, and I had appendicitis on my 18th birthday. Jasmine still hates me for that one because I ruined a girl’s trip.” 

“Is there more?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows. 

You snorted out a laugh as another one came to mind. “I got a nosebleed when I lost my virginity. It didn’t stop bleeding for like three hours.” 

Lando pursed his lips to not laugh, but he couldn’t keep it in for long. “I’m sorry for laughing, but the picture in my head is really funny.” 

In hindsight, it was quite funny. At the time, however, it was the most embarrassing moment of your life. 

“I was going to say that probably everyone experiences these sort of setbacks, but… I don’t know anymore,” he tried to comfort. 

“I think I might just be cursed, Lando,” you huffed, locking eyes with him again.  

You both went quiet for a couple seconds as he took in your expression. A gaze so hollow, it didn’t matter that you were trying to hide it with a smile. The smile was blacked out anyway. 

He didn’t understand how you could talk to him and reassure him without making it sound like you were second-guessing things, or ever feeling unsure of what your words meant — but as soon as the subject was switched to regard yourself, you were suddenly cold. Or not really cold at all, but just not as warm as you were when you talked about other people. 

Your staring contest was interrupted by a young boy saying your name. A man came shortly after him into the small hospital room. Lando assumed it was your father and little brother, as he stood up from the bed to introduce himself. And to make some space between the two of you, since you were sitting suspiciously close together.  

The boy got shy as soon as he saw Lando. He looked a lot like you, with the same coloured hair and the same big doe eyes, only he was clad in a green football kit. Your father was wearing a matching one to show support. 

“Hi Matteo,” you called out as your brother walked past Lando to immediately get to you. He was like that — shy with people he didn’t know and anxious to talk to them. So you saved him, by talking to him as you saw Lando shake your father’s hand. That wasn’t awkward at all. 

“How did the game go?” you asked, ruffling his sweaty hair as you invited him to sit next to you on the bed. 

Matteo started talking, all excited about how they’d won and that he had gotten an assist. Pretty solid for a first game, he thought. You were mostly glad that he had a good time and that he seemed to get along well with the other boys on the team. He didn’t have it easy making friends because of his shyness. 

Lando overheard the conversation, taking notice of how you had asked him how it went and not if he had won. It was those little things that made you different, made the way you talked to people so much more worth it. You were so fucking lovely, and you seemed to have no idea about it.

Your father had recognised him, but Lando couldn’t tell if that was only because of Oscar or if he cared about racing. 

With your family there, Lando started to feel excessive. He couldn’t exactly argue his case for wanting to stay right there in front of you, and your father. He guessed it wasn’t too late to still catch up with Max, but a part of him almost didn’t want to do it. 

No, he had to leave. He couldn’t explain his reason out loud. 

As he said his goodbye, he met your eyes from his position in the doorway. He didn’t have much to say to you, or maybe he had so much to say that his brain couldn’t find what was most important. His shoes almost felt sticky against the sterile hospital flooring, something glueing him to the spot. 

“Will I see you at Silverstone?” Lando decided to ask before leaving. 

“Uh… maybe? I’ll have to talk to Oscar,” you said unsure, still sat in the bed with your arm around Matteo.  

“Can I come this time?” he whispered, looking up at you. 

You were shocked by his question. He’d never asked to come before. But it wasn’t really up to you if he could or not. It was always someone else getting you race passes, so you were in no position to be greedy. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll sort you out,” Lando hurried to say, seeing the uncertainty on your face.  

You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you… for everything.” 

For showing up, for driving you, for staying. He’d done so much that he didn’t need to do. Maybe Jasmine was correct. Maybe he didn’t just see you as her friend that he had to be civil to. Or maybe, he’d been dealt really bad cards tonight and had no option but to comply. Otherwise, he would be seen as a complete dickhead. 

Lando nodded, pursing his lips into a smile, staying in the doorway for a moment too long, before finally walking away. You didn’t notice him doing it, but someone else certainly did. 

“Bunny…” your father said. 

“Mm?” you mumbled, perking up your ears.  

“Did that boy just linger in the doorway?” 

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Silverstone, UK

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“Are you avoiding me?” 

Lando’s voice shocked you as he came up from behind. You’d seen him around during the day but kept your distance. You were technically his guest today, only ever having been invited by Oscar before. But you would be lying if you said that premise had made you more liberal with how you interacted with Lando. You stayed with Oscar and Jasmine, and your father and Matteo, because that was what you knew. 

The paddock at Silverstone was a lot, even for you who had been to this rodeo before. Matteo and your dad, however, would fall asleep quickly tonight with how many new impressions they’d received today. You’d only managed to come on the Sunday, with you on crutches and Matteo being, well… Matteo. It was good enough of an experience anyway. 

“No, there’s just a lot of people here to see you. I didn’t want to be a bother,” you explained, nervously laughing.  

It was jam-packed with friends and family, sponsors, and celebrities. Every time he had a moment for himself, it could quickly turn into a meet-and-greet if he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Now, minutes before he had to make his way to the starting grid, it was finally sort of calm in the garage. You were standing in the viewing section, a papaya-coloured headset around your neck. 

Lando shook his head and sighed. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

You could not be a bother, even if you tried. 

“So, it wasn’t a make-a-wish thing after you saw me fall on my face and break my ankle?” 

“Would I’ve been your wish?” he asked, voice affected by laughter.

“No, sorry, I’d pick a broadway show over this any day,” you responded jokingly. 

“How’s your ankle anyway?” 

The cast and the crutches you were leaning on didn’t look too dramatic. It just looked like you had broken your ankle and were now dealing with it to the best of your ability. 

“It’s healing just fine,” you nodded, leaning to rest on one crutch to show Lando your palm. “The worst thing right now is the heat and the crutches giving me callouses.” 

As you reached out your hand, Lando couldn’t help but gently grab your fingers to take a closer look. He was practically holding your hand. Sure, you held his when Eddie was wrapping your foot, but you were in an immense amount of pain at the time. This was something different. The callouses weren’t even that bad. 

Why was he holding your hand? 

In the same moment you could overthink it, he let go.

“Have you been hopping around the paddock all day? You should’ve told me, I could’ve gotten you a golf cart or something,” Lando wondered, feeling kind of bad. 

He hadn’t thought about your broken ankle when he’d asked you to come. 

“It’s alright. Matteo’s been having a blast all day, so… thank you,” you shrugged. 

You could deal with being uncomfortable for a day if it meant that Matteo got a once-in-a-lifetime experience. 

His McLaren cap was signed, and he had ice cream in his belly. He’d even gotten a wave from Sir Lewis Hamilton himself, and if that wasn’t enough to make him school ground royalty for at least a week, you didn’t know what was. Maybe you took your big sister duty too seriously, but literally nothing could make you stop caring for that kid.  

“And your dad?” Lando asked. 

You looked over your shoulder to see what he was doing. With Matteo in front of him, practically hiding into his side, you could see him talking to someone and smiling. You understood that he was mostly doing this for you and Matteo, but there was some underlying fascination that middle-aged men had with fast cars that you knew he was trying to hide. 

“He appears to be smiling, that’s always positive.” 

“He’s talking to my dad,” he revealed. That wasn’t awkward at all. 

Lando hesitated, unsure of asking you what was on his mind, but soon enough, words were falling out of his mouth anyway. You seemed to have that effect on him. 

“I need to get ready, but can I see you afterwards? Maybe you can come back like you did in Melbourne.” 

You smiled, agreeing before adding, “I’ll watch you get on the podium first.” 

The race started with both Lando and Oscar in good positions, which probably led to a false sense of security. Your gut feeling was unsure of it all. 

Matteo held on to your hand during the entire start, you could tell that it was mixed emotions of excitement and anxiety. His headset was big on his little head, and he looked positively adorable as he tried to understand what was going on. 

“Lando is third right now,” you explained to him, pointing to a monitor. “And Oscar is fifth, you remember them, right?” 

Matteo nodded. “Lando broke your foot, and Oscar talks funny.” 

“I broke my own foot, but you’re right about Oscar,” you laughed. 

It was you that had to hold onto Matteo for a moment during the race when it really looked like both Oscar and Lando had a chance at winning. But after some godawful strategic calls, you realised that the podium wasn’t as secure as you thought. Hamilton was steady in the lead, and Verstappen was chasing Lando like there was no tomorrow.

You were so focused on the leaders that you didn’t even realise what was happening at the bottom of the grid. Pictures of two cars making contact flashed over the screens, and Matteo tensed up beside you. 

“What happened?” he worriedly asked, clinging to your arm. “Did they get hurt?” 

“No, no, it was just a little love tap,” you reassured him. They probably didn’t even have any damage — that was how minimal it was. “Like when I reversed into grandma’s postbox.”

“That was you?” your dad laughed. 

“Be quiet, I’m trying to watch the race,” you hushed him, eyes back on the leaderboard. 

Verstappen ended up catching Lando. P3 was the bittersweet consolation prize that Lando would have to act like he was happy about. Parade around the podium, covered in champagne, as if he wasn’t completely gutted inside. You could see on his face that he was acting happy as they celebrated. He wasn’t that good of an actor, if you were to be honest. 

If only they had put on different tyres for his last stint. 

Afterwards, you made your way back to his driver’s room — just as he’d asked. You could have overthought that question a million times, but you decided to just go for it. It was crowded with people, both staff and guests, rushing to congratulate him. Or maybe to comfort him. Your guess would be on the latter. 

At last, the hallway cleared, and you hopped to stand in the doorway, finally seeing him.

“P3, baby!” you joked cheerfully. 

Lando stared at you blankly, shaking his head as he snorted out a laugh. 

“Yeah, no, that was frustrating to watch. I can’t even imagine how you feel.” 

He had no words. Already having had to put on such a fake façade to everyone else he had met after the race. He didn’t want to do that to you. So, he ended up speechless.

“Should I leave you alone?” you whispered, breaking the silence. 

“No!” he hurried to say. “Uhm… please, sit.” 

With some struggle, you managed to sit next to him on the bench in his room. Much like Melbourne. It was, however, a lot more difficult to move in the little room while on crutches. 

He sighed as you sat down, helping you rest the crutches against the wall so they wouldn’t fall to the floor. His racing suit was halfway off and filled the room with a scent of champagne. You tried to look him in the eye, but ended up focusing on how his helmet had left red imprints on his cheeks — like a gorgeous mark of endurance. 

“I just… I don’t know what to say, or what to feel. It’s always so fucking close, and then I lose it.” Lando’s voice was stern and measured, his face blank. 

It was a forced expression, though. He could cry if his tear ducks would’ve allowed him to. Some mental barrier stopped him from doing it. He almost wanted to do it so that you would see his true emotions. 

Your heart broke a little, seeing him be so harsh on himself. Because, with your mentality, he had just done something miraculous. He’d done something mere mortals couldn’t accomplish. 

“I’m impressed you get out of that car alive every weekend, so I might be the wrong person to complain to,” you softly told him. 

Lando had heard those sorts of words before, how he was superhuman for even getting in the car. He’d felt the same way when he started, and maybe he’d lost that initial spark he used to have. 

Your words didn’t mean that you didn’t want him to complain. He should vent, to the people that it mattered to. Get it out of his system, so that he could be sensible in front of the media. 

It was funny how the sport worked that way. That he was somehow less happy in third, than Sargeant was in eleventh. That the people on the second and third steps of the podium were the biggest losers. And, they were expected to be robotic about it, otherwise, they would be deemed erratic and emotional. 

What was the crime in being emotional anyway? 

“I think you drove a perfect race,” you complimented him. “And then I think there were some strategic… mishaps that you’re not to blame for. Overall, this race was like the coolest one I’ve ever witnessed, and Oscar didn’t even get a podium. He’s my favourite driver!” 

You tried so hard to get him to laugh again, but he wouldn’t budge. He had to tell himself not to. It actually kind of annoyed him that Oscar was your favourite. He knew he didn’t know you well enough to be your favourite, yet. 

“I don’t get how you’re not proud of yourself,” you finally sighed, gesticulating with your hands as you spoke. “You have every right to be proud, annoyingly so.” 

Lando knew he had to let his guard down. That was the only way he would feel better about this. This wasn’t like Australia, when it hadn’t been his fault for the bad result. He’d still blamed himself, but let it go after a couple of hours. This time, a good result was somehow his fault. It was insane, the mental game he was playing with himself. And he couldn’t let this go without talking it through. 

“I’ll be that later, I just need to feel sorry for myself for a couple of hours first,” he scoffed.  

It was Silverstone, after all. He’d gotten a podium on home soil. That was an accomplishment to be proud of. Last year, he was over the moon over his Silverstone race, but maybe that was because the car hadn’t been that great. This time he had a great car, but was somehow a worse driver. It didn’t make any sense to him. 

His spiralling thoughts were stopped when he heard his phone continuously vibrate from the other side of the room, somewhere hidden under a pile of clothes. 

“Are people blowing up your phone with congratulations?” you asked amusingly. 

“No, it’s the PR team,” he said as he looked over his notifications, a confused look on his face. “We’ve gone viral again. It looks like I held your hand when you showed me the callouses from the crutches.” 

You did technically hold my hand, was what you wanted to say. You decided that staying quiet felt better. 

Lando regretted his wording as soon as he said it. He held your hand in a garage filled with cameras. He knew that. He was to blame for that. But was any harm done? 

“I don’t get how it’s always with you that it happens,” he mumbled nervously. 

He sat back down beside you, giving you a view of his phone screen. The photos were cute, if you were to be honest. But also blurry and obviously taken by someone who wanted to be sneaky. 

“Always? Meaning once before?” you questioned. 

That showed how little you were on social media. You didn’t know about anything other than the video from Melbourne. 

“No, there were also photos of me at the hospital when you broke your ankle,” Lando explained. 

The photos had been everywhere. He, and that orange car, at a hospital parking lot on a Friday evening. It was quite the headline for news outlets and gossip accounts. 

“Oh…” you said, visibly surprised. “I’m so sorry if it caused you problems to be seen with a girl in a slutty maid costume.”

For a second there, Lando could watch you go through the five stages of grief, all through your facial expressions. 

“You weren’t in the photos. It was just me and that… obnoxious car when I went back to get your bag,” he quickly added, calming your nerves. 

You nodded understandingly, feeling yourself get less tense. “Did you have to explain it to anyone?” 

“Thankfully not, I’m such a bad liar.” 

What would he need to lie about? 

Then you realised that someone like him probably couldn't just say that they drove a friend who had injured themselves. That would only lead to a million more questions. And, if he had said something — people would’ve been able to put two and two together as you showed up to the paddock with a cast and crutches. Maybe he was protecting you. 

You didn’t know what else to say to him now, meeting his bright eyes once again. They had this way of shining, even though he was sad. It was not an uncomfortable silence, but you were starting to wonder if you’d overstayed your welcome. 

Then Lando spoke again, his voice in a happier tone. “Has Jasmine mentioned Italy to you?” 

“Monza?”

“No, now before Hungary,” he replied. “Oscar and I have to represent McLaren at some charity auction, and I thought about inviting you as my plus one so that Jasmine doesn’t have to be alone if we have to work a lot.” 

The invitation was carefully phrased, and you recognised that. If you had been more sure about Jasmine’s ridiculous idea that Lando liked you, you would’ve made fun of him for dragging in Jasmine in his way of asking you to come with him. 

“Oh,” you mused. “I’d be a fool to say no, but there has to be other people that you’d rather go with.” 

Lando looked at you in confusion. 

“Like, don’t invite me just to do Jasmine a favour,” you continued.  

He finally broke into a smile, not being able to contain it anymore. You were clueless, and Lando found that hilarious. “It’s not like I hate your company, y’know?”

You chuckled. You hadn’t expected him to say something so direct. 

“Can I talk to Jazz about it first, before I decide?” 

Lando nodded softly. “Sure, I mean, the invite is yours anyway. If you don’t want to come, I’ll just go alone.”

You turned quiet again, looking him in the eyes as you took in what he’d said. The invitation was yours. He hadn’t ever thought of bringing someone else. Maybe he truly was doing Jasmine a favour. Maybe this was him sneakily making a move. He’d have to be a lot more upfront for you to catch on, though. 

A tension settled over the room, an eternity passing without anyone saying anything. The mood switched, and you both could tell. It was probably time for you to leave, yet the expectation to say that last little thing was there. The little thing that would leave him feeling better about himself. You wanted to linger in the doorway, or linger on the bench, you guessed. You wanted to say so much more. 

Oscar intruded by softly knocking on the already open door. 

“Oscar, hi!” you squeaked out of surprise, straightening your back to make space between you and Lando. 

“Your dad’s looking for you,” he explained, chuckling. 

“I guess I better go,” you said, standing up, finding balance with the help of your crutches. “You both should be proud of yourselves today, or every day for that matter.” 

Lando looked down at the floor as you left. He knew that whatever face Oscar put on or whatever sentence he formed, it would accuse Lando of being down bad for you. 

“Did you invite her to Italy?” 

“Yeah, she said she’ll talk to Jazz about it,” Lando mumbled, hiding his smile. 

You hadn’t immediately said yes, but that was almost his plan by dragging Jasmine into it. She wasn’t even supposed to come with them to Italy at first. But Lando wanted the four of them to do it together. It was a foolproof plan to get to spend some more time with you that wasn’t in a paddock nor in a hospital. 

“On another note,” Oscar said while he remembered it. “How the hell did you get her dad to come to a race?” 

“I don’t know… I just sent Bunny three passes?”  

“I’ve invited him to races since I was in F3 and he’s never once shown up,” Oscar began explaining. 

Lando scrunched his nose, unsure of where Oscar was going with his reasoning.  

“He’s a good man, funny even — but he does not like racing, at all,” he continued. 

Was Lando being stupid for not getting Oscar’s point? Lando couldn’t tell if he was being stupid. He probably was. 

Then, it finally clicked for Oscar. “You don’t know how her mum died, do you?” 

Lando could do nothing but slowly shake his head, his mouth slightly open out of confusion. He could tell that Oscar hesitated to tell him. Maybe he shouldn’t be telling your story, but he trusted Lando. 

“Alone, in a car crash. She died on impact. Bunny was 15 or so when it happened,” Oscar said gently, his face showing pity with a downturned smile. “Her dad has always told her not to come to races, in case someone crashes and it brings up bad memories for her.” 

Now, Lando was definitely being stupid, because it still didn’t click for him. It made him understand your mentality more — that you’d said you were impressed he got out of that car alive every weekend. Because you had, close up, lived through someone not making it out of a car — a car going nowhere near as fast. But what did that have to do with your father attending a race? 

“I think Bunny must’ve convinced him to come see you, specifically,” Oscar finally said. 

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Lombardia, Italia

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“I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” you sighed, looking from the balcony out to the beautiful garden. 

Fruit trees, pink oleander, and pungent lavender. Beautiful limestone houses. It looked picturesque, like something out of a movie. Yet, you were unsure if you belonged there. 

“You’re spending the weekend in an Italian villa. That is what you’re doing,” Jasmine insisted, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. 

The house was gorgeous. The area was gorgeous. Everything was just perfect. And you felt undeserving of it. You’d gotten to take off your cast just in time for the trip. This was your moment to be selfish this summer. 

So, why the hell did you keep on questioning yourself?

“You’d have no stories to tell from this summer if it wasn’t for this trip. You need things to talk about when you go back to university, otherwise, you’ll make no new friends,” she then pointed out.

You hadn’t even thought of that. All your other friends had graduated. You still had six months of classes left because of your stupid lungs. You didn’t want to make new friends. You wanted to keep your old ones. 

You crossed your arms, looking up at your best friend with a pout. “I’ll let you know that me and Jane Austen have had a riveting summer thus far in my dad’s hammock.”

Doing just about anything with a broken ankle was impossible, so reading in the garden it was. 

“While you travel the world and go to races, I will always entertain you with hilarious Goodreads reviews,” you added. 

Jasmine shook her head disapprovingly. “I really don’t need to know even more nasty things that you would do to Mr. Darcy.”

Deep down, you knew she got a giggle out of getting a notification on her phone with a five star review only saying Mr. Darcy could raw me and nothing more. 

“Isn’t this going to be awkward though? It’s like we’re double dating all weekend!” 

“Would that be so bad?” Jasmine laughed, thinking that it was probably Lando’s plan all along. 

You realised quite quickly that Lando hadn’t lied about them having to work. During the day, they were off to the manor house that was hosting the auction, doing lord knows what. It was something about cars being auctioned off and sucking up to millionaires. 

You didn’t understand why this type of event even existed. It felt like the 2011 classic Monte Carlo with Selena Gomez. That was at least your only experience with auctions for rich people. 

While this one was for charity, it still only felt like a way for these millionaires to seem humble. They would’ve bought the cars anyway, it was only for their own conscience that the charities even mattered. Maybe you were being harsh. 

You and Jasmine at least got to spend some quality time with each other in the villa. You ate a long breakfast, cycled down to the city centre to try odd flavours of gelato, and went into cute little boutiques to find her a pair of heels to wear with her gown for the auction. 

Your dress was black, and so were your heels. That was how fun you were going to be. 

Truth be told, it was a prom dress that you hadn’t gotten to wear because of covid, so maybe you were a little excited to get all dolled up tomorrow night. 

When the boys got home for the day, they decided you all should take the bikes to a nearby lake. You didn’t have much of a say, packing a basket with antipasti for dinner. It was unbearably hot even though the sun had started to settle, so maybe going for a swim wasn’t the worst thing. 

As the four of you swooshed down Italian country roads on rusty borrowed bikes, Lando and you ended up in front of Jasmine and Oscar, going much faster than they did. Everything wasn’t a race, but some things definitely were. 

Oscar cycled closer to his girlfriend, asking her a question he’d been dying to ask all day. “Do we tell them something about how they are both madly infatuated with each other or will they figure it out on their own?” 

“I tried to tell Bunny, but she wouldn’t believe me. It’s like she doesn’t understand that people still find her attractive after she got sick,” Jasmine said. 

She didn’t know if she should sigh or laugh at your behaviour recently. She understood that your life had changed completely, but falling in love, or even just dating, shouldn’t be something to be scared about. Not when you had a boy acting like a fool right in front of your eyes. 

“So, we let Lando try and awkwardly flirt with her by himself? And watch Bunny be clueless about it?” Oscar laughed

“He has to be upfront at some point, right?” she responded. 

They probably wouldn’t have to wait long until Lando would scream in your face that he liked you. He had no filter left when it came to you. 

The lake was small, surrounded by a pebble beach. The water looked almost artificially teal, like natural sources of water tended to do. You’d never been to Italy before, but it was quickly becoming one of your favourite destinations. It was idyllic in ways you couldn’t have dreamt of. 

You threw the bikes in the grass and put out your beach towels close to the water. Feeling the pebbles under your bare feet and the sweet smell of sunscreen, you and Jasmine started to pack up your picnic basket.

There were almost no other people there, only seeing a family with children taking an evening swim on the other side of the lake. 

After eating a little, the boys tested the water, groaning about how cold it was, yet somehow getting in anyway. You still didn’t know what they had done during the day, but with their lifestyles, you guessed they always needed to find ways to relax. 

Jasmine rested on her towel with her nose in a book, recognising it as one you had rated highly on Goodreads. See, you knew she loved your reviews. She mumbled something about how the protagonist reminded her of you when you asked her if she was enjoying it. You took that as a good sign. 

You went down to the waterside, only dipping your toes in before deciding that it was way too cold for you to want to swim in it. Instead, you crouched down to look at the rocks, all round and polished from the water, in pretty green and coral shades. You’d already gotten Matteo a local football shirt as a souvenir, but you could definitely fit some cool rocks in your suitcase as well. 

Lando, zoning out from whatever Oscar was talking about next to him in the still water, tried to secretly keep his eye on you. He could catch a glimpse of a bright red bikini underneath the long, sheer white shirt you had on. His fondness had grown so large that even watching you pick pebbles warmed his heart. Or maybe that was the bikini’s doing. 

Jasmine could watch it all happen through the darkness of her sunglasses, having lost focus from her book. She furrowed her brows with concern. “Bunny, aren’t you warm?” 

Your hand subconsciously traced the edge of the your shirt collar, a faint smile forming on your lips. “Yeah, but I’ll scare the children away if I show the scar on my chest,” you replied, your tone light yet tinged with an undercurrent of insecurity. 

“It’s not that bad,” she said, promising, her eyes meeting yours as she tipped down her shades. 

You laughed a little in disbelief. “You haven’t seen it since they reopened it.” You were talking so loud that the boys in the water definitely could hear you. “I also hate touching it, so I don’t want to put sunscreen on.” 

Jasmine remembered the first time she saw your scar, a jagged reminder of the surgery that had saved your life. A long red line, right on your sternum, that had faded over time. But she hadn’t seen the new scar, the one left by the recent, unexpected procedure. 

“Don’t be such a wimp,” Jasmine urged, getting up from the towel, a bottle of sunscreen in her hand. “Get your shirt off and I’ll do it.” 

She knew you well enough to push you to do it. You would never get over this mental hurdle without people telling you that you looked fine. People had scars. That was the way life worked. 

You sighed, slowly fumbling with the shirt buttons as you tried to decipher Jasmine’s reaction. “See? It’s awful.” 

She shook her head, trying to keep a neutral face. It was worse than she thought, but she could never tell you that, because it hurt more than it helped. And it wasn’t like the scar tainted your entire being. You were still a gorgeous woman, in Baywatch-esque red bikini. That was an unstoppable combo.  

“It’s really not bad. It needs some more time to fade, that’s all,” Jasmine reassured you, having no problem with touching the uneven skin to apply sunscreen. 

You didn’t want to look at her hand as she did it, so you looked out over the lake, catching Lando’s surprisingly… odd gaze as he stood in the water next to Oscar. 

You hadn’t wanted to stare too much at him earlier, knowing that your head would get messed up if you saw him shirtless in swim shorts. But now, you couldn’t disregard the look on his face. 

“Lando, I saw that look. Just tell me that it’s bad,” you said, clearly still frustrated over the entire thing. 

Lando was shocked you were talking to him, struggling to find the words. 

“He’s staring at your tits, it’s totally different,” Oscar suddenly said, having kept quiet for too long. 

You almost didn’t know if you had heard him correctly, but Jasmine’s ringing laughter told you that it was true. Lando sternly said Oscar’s name before drenching him in water, a playful fight breaking out between the two of them, overshadowing what had just happened. 

That didn’t mean it left your mind, though. 

It was dark by the time you got back to the villa, stars hanging above you in the night sky. You knew it was the same sky as you had home in England, yet there was something much more magical about it this time. 

Jasmine and Oscar went to bed, but you had a few things to prepare for the auction. You wanted to paint your nails and do a face mask; maybe even get in an everything-shower to save time tomorrow. 

The night was still warm as you made your way out to the balcony in your nightgown, deciding that you might as well take advantage of the view while you painted your nails. The balcony felt like a secluded little sanctuary, bathed in a soft glow from the outdoor lighting and wafting in the breeze of the Italian countryside.  

Behind you, the glass door slid open with a soft creak, and you turned to see Lando stepping out onto the balcony, carrying what looked like a cup of tea. You’d thought he was asleep, the villa eerily quiet. 

He had an easy confidence about him — something you admired. Clad in a soft cotton t-shirt and sweatpants, the kind that looked threadbare and like the most comfortable fabric ever. His eyes silently asked you if it was okay for him to join you, and you nodded. He sat down across from you at the outdoor dining table. 

“Orange?” Lando asked softly, seeing the colour of the nail polish. 

“I thought it was papaya,” you joked, biting your tongue to not get it on your cuticles as you continued to paint. “I bought it for Silverstone but forgot to wear it.” 

Lando didn’t care. At least he told himself that he didn’t. You were just representing his team by carefully painting your nails orange. There was no need to get all mushy inside because of it. It wasn’t like it was permanent. Only a week or so of you thinking of him every time you saw your own hands. Maybe that was wishful thinking. Maybe you didn’t think of him. 

“I should’ve told you earlier, but you look great today,” he said like it was nothing, raising his cup to take a sip. 

He could tell that you were slightly baffled, a line forming between your eyebrows as you scrunched your nose in disbelief. “Scar and all?” 

“Yeah, of course.” 

Oscar had maybe been right about what Lando was looking at when you had asked him about the scar. They had overheard the entire conversation you had with Jasmine, so when he caught a glimpse of the scar, he had imagined something much worse. It truly wasn’t that bad. It at least didn’t steal his attention when you were standing in front of him in a bikini. 

For a moment, neither spoke, the silence filled only by the sounds of the night. Cicadas, a distant car, and birds chirping. Lights from neighbouring houses twinkled like scattered diamonds. 

“I don’t know if you wanted me to know, but Oscar told me about your mother,” Lando’s voice trembled, confessing it to you. His eyes searched your face for a reaction, a mixture of concern and vulnerability painted across his features.

You stared down at your painted nails, adding one last stroke before closing the bottle of polish. You were scared to look at him, unsure of how this conversation would play out. 

“It’s not really a secret, just a hard thing to tell people,” you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

You somehow felt the warmth from Lando’s body even though there was a table’s length between you. His presence wasn’t uncomfortable to you, but the conversation certainly was. 

“Don’t pity me like I’m some motherless child. It’s really not that bad,” you continued, trying to keep your composure, the familiar ache in your chest making it hard to breathe. 

In moments like these, it was like you could feel your scar glowing, how the tight skin wanted to rip right open to help you take full breaths. 

A flicker of frustration crossed Lando’s face. 

He hated how you had said it — how you tried to downplay everything that had happened in your life. He understood that it was your way of coping, but your entire being basically screamed for the emotions to be let out. You were hypocritical, and he was tired. 

“It’s allowed to be bad. You were the one that told me that in Australia. You’re allowed to feel bad about things that are shit,” he insisted, his voice carrying a firmness that contrasted with the tenderness in his eyes.

His raw honesty sliced through your defenses. Your view of him blurred as tears filled your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Clearing your throat, you calmed yourself down. 

Lando wasn’t actually frustrated with you. It was more at the circumstances. He didn’t want to push you, and you didn’t want to upset him. It was just a very difficult conversation to have. 

“Do you ever have nightmares about crashing?” you asked, whispering. 

“No, not really,” he admitted.

If he was thinking about what might go wrong all the time, he wouldn't be able to continue driving. Racing showed some people horrible fates of life. The abundant success that could be archived was harvested by others.

It was all about finding a balance, about showing respect for the thing they put themselves through, but also overcoming it by showing no fear. 

Maybe it was different for you, Lando thought. Maybe you had already given in to the fear, because you’d get no success out of it no matter how hard you tried. You couldn’t get your mum back anyway.  

You took a deep breath before confessing. “I do. All the time.” 

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

The early morning sun filtered through his bedroom windows as Lando got out of bed. He’d slept like a king. The countryside was so quiet compared to Monaco and the cities he raced in. He stretched as he drew back the curtains, getting a view of the garden, and you. 

The conversation you had yesterday had left the both of you unsatisfied. Yet, neither wanted to push the other to really get to the bottom of the problem, 

This morning, however, you were waltzing through the garden on bare feet, a big bowl in one hand and a small ladder in the other one. The summer dress you were wearing blew with the breeze. You looked free. And slightly out of your mind, climbing a ladder to reach the fruit trees, without anyone keeping an eye on you.

Not that you needed supervision, but climbing a ladder could be dangerous. That was what Lando told himself as he rushed outside. 

“Oh god, please don’t fall down,” he said, voice laced with concern as he almost ran through the garden to get to you, keeping his steady hands on the ladder. 

You glanced down at him, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “It’s a stepladder, Lando. I’m one metre above the ground,” you reassured him.  

“Still, you should be careful,” he insisted.  

“I’ll break your nose if you look up my dress,” you warned. You weren’t serious, but Lando felt his cheeks flush anyway. “Do you want one?” you asked, referring to the fruit you were picking. 

“What is it even?”  

“I thought peaches at first, but they’re not hairy. Not small enough to be apricots but maybe hard enough to be nectarines, so that would be my guess.” 

You examined the fruit as you stepped down from the ladder, tossing one in the air before catching it again and placing it in the bowl. 

“Are you sure you’re still talking about fruit?”  

“Oh, shut up,” you laughed, rolling your eyes at the innuendo. 

You picked up a nectarine and took a bite, the sweet juice dribbling down your chin. “I made breakfast, but I assume you’re on the same diet as Oscar?” you asked, voice muffled by the mouthful of fruit.

Lando stared at you in awe, taking way too long before nodding. 

“Well then, I guess you can watch me eat while you stick to oatmeal,” you replied playfully. 

As the sun rose above the horizon, casting a warm amber glow over the cosy balcony, you and Lando sat by the outdoor furniture, eating your breakfast. The air filled with a scent of fresh coffee and the sweet nectarines. You ate them with yoghurt and honey, and Lando was totally jealous. 

You didn’t say much to each other. It wasn’t really necessary. The world around you started to wake up, but on that little balcony, it felt like time had slowed down just for you two. 

Lando turned to you, curiosity in his eyes. “Why do people call you Bunny?” He’d wanted to ask you that for quite some time.  

“It’s quite a sad story, to be honest,” you began, swallowing what was left of your breakfast. 

He almost regretted his question immediately. He hadn’t even thought about how a cute nickname like yours could be from a sad memory. You watched as Lando’s expression softened, his eyes encouraging you to continue. 

“Matteo stayed a lot at our grandparent’s house after mum died, because… well, life happened,” you explained, your orange fingernails tracing the rim of your coffee mug. “Since he was so young, he hadn’t really understood the fact that I was his sister, so I instead became the girl he would visit from time to time who owned a pet bunny.” 

Lando leant his elbows on the table, captivated by your way of talking, his interest piqued. 

“And Bunny was easier for him to pronounce than my actual name,” you continued, a faint smile forming on your lips. 

“You had a bunny?”

“Yeah, his name was Taco,” you laughed, your smile growing more genuine. 

He chuckled softly at the name. You would name a pet Taco, that was just the kind of person you were. 

“Do you like having it as a nickname?” Lando inquired, his tone gentle again. 

“I don’t mind it,” you shook your head. “Matteo doesn’t say it anymore, but it’s… it’s different when other people say it.” 

It’s different when you say it, Lando. 

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

“You’re drooling, mate,” Oscar’s voice laughed from behind him as they got out of the cars. 

“I am not,” Lando protested, but Oscar only shook his head. 

He wasn’t fooling anyone as he watched you and Jasmine step out on the front porch, dressed to the nines, ready for the auction. 

Oscar and him had picked up the two cars that were being auctioned off while you got ready. It was important that they were seen driving the cars up to the manor house as they arrived, and you and Jasmine were supposed to be arm candy. It felt both below and above your worth. 

You laughed as you saw the cars, shiny and polished McLaren’s. You didn’t care enough to know the models, you just knew they were worth millions. 

Jasmine walked down to Oscar with ease in her high heels, a beautiful burnt orange satin gown on her body. You watched as he greeted her with a kiss, feeling both a sense of pride and also some loneliness in your stomach. 

Your feet already hurt from your own heels. Something wasn’t entirely right since you broke your ankle, but you would have to suffer through it. 

Lando walked up to the porch, casually keeping his hands in the pockets of his well-fitted black suit. The white shirt he had on underneath probably had one too many buttons undone. Not that you were complaining, it looked gorgeous in contrast with his tan skin. He looked gorgeous. 

You were dressed in all black, apart from your orange nail polish. Your gown with a perfectly poofy tulle skirt and a flattering balconette corset top. You looked delectable, and Lando had a hard time hiding that.  

“Don’t look at me like that,” you said seriously to him. 

“Like what?” Lando replied, feigning innocence as he took your hand to help you down the front porch stairs. 

Like you’re falling in love with me.

“Like this is some early 2000s rom-com and I’m the nerdy girl who’s just gotten a makeover by a more popular girl,” you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

He gave a genuine laugh, the kind that could only bring a smile to your face. He wanted to respond with some cliché statement about how it was only fitting since you looked like a movie star, but he remained silent.

Lando helped you into the car like a real gentleman, while Oscar and Jasmine got into the other one. The drive was two minutes at most. 

“Did you have a dress like that lying around?” he asked, fastening his seatbelt. 

You nodded, moving your hands over your lap to smooth out the fabric. “It’s a prom dress that I never got to use because of covid.” 

A spark lit up in Lando’s eyes. “I never got to have a prom either, y’know.” 

A moment of silence passed between them, the weight of missed milestones hanging heavy in the air. You assumed it was because he hadn’t really gone to school like a normal kid, too busy with karting. Then, with a sudden burst of determination, Lando revved the engine. 

“Come on, let’s treat this night like prom.” 

The manor house was bigger than anything you’d ever seen before. You couldn’t grasp it — the multiple stories, the annex buildings, the beautiful and meticulous gardens. It was all too much for you. 

Lando pulled up to park the car next to the grand entrance, handing the keys to the valet before coming to open the door for you. You were met with camera flashes as soon as you stepped out. It wasn’t paparazzi, thank god — only photographers hired for the event.  

Lando didn’t dare to hold your hand in front of the cameras, this time. He settled with a hand on your lower back as you made your way inside after Jasmine and Oscar. 

The auction was held in a grand hall — no, a conservatory. It had a glass roof. It was filled with decorations, floral arrangements, and candle lights. A stage was built by the end of the room, which you assumed would be where they auctioned things off. 

It was also filled with people, dressed in sharp suits and colourful gowns. It looked photoshopped with how perfect it was. Not a thing out of place nor a person behaving oddly. Except for you, of course. You did not belong here. 

“What are they compensating for? Tiny cocks?” you whispered for only Jasmine to hear as you took in the room. This was bonkers. 

“The tiniest of cocks,” she snorted under her breath. 

Oscar and Lando did have to work — work the room that was, mingling and sucking up to people with big wallets. 

You and Jasmine made your way around as well, albeit much slower and with less intention. You talked to some people, drank some champagne, and eyed the canapés being served around. It didn’t look like anyone was eating, so you didn’t want to be the odd one out. You already were. So, now you were both odd and starving. 

You also eyed the objects up for auction. It was jewellery, cars, and destination vacations in places you’d never heard of. All in favour of some charity that was hardly mentioned once. Was this just a rich person shopping spree without the guilt of overconsumption? 

Lando kept looking across the room for you, his eyes always seeming to find you within seconds. And you found him to, sharing smiles or joking faces, saying get me out of here. 

It wasn’t possessive — it was more of a secret bond that existed right there in time and space, going unnoticed by everyone but the two of you. 

The bond was broken when a man approached you. Lando didn’t recognise him, but he already despised him. He was flirting with you; that would be obvious to anyone but you. You didn’t necessarily look uncomfortable. It seemed more like you found the conversation he tried to have with you pointless. 

You were so oblivious to the impact you had on men, or maybe on all people in general. It made him want to set himself on fire. The itchy feeling inside of him, telling him to scream for everyone in the room to hear — that you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. And that you should be talking to him, and only him. Not some suave-looking asshole in an ill-fitting suit. God, you made him stupid. More stupid than normal. 

As Lando’s thoughts spiralled, you somehow got out of the conversation, swiftly making your way across the room and out of a door that he thought led to the garden. Or one of the gardens. This place was huge. 

He had things to do inside, people to talk to — but for a moment, he came to his senses and said fuck it. He needed to know if you were alright. 

His assumption that the door led to a garden was correct. The evening light cast a silvery glow over it, a tranquil contrast to the busy ballroom. From a distance, he saw you take a seat in an old stone gazebo, covered with ivy. You bent down to unclasp your heels. 

Lord, was he about to risk it all. 

His steps over the gravel path made you hear him, and he couldn’t help but feel busted. 

“Mind if I sit down?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. 

You shook your head, gesturing with your hand to the space beside you. He sat down, shyly looking at his hands in his lap. On the bench, he saw what he thought was the reason you had come out here, besides that man talking to you. Dessert. Two of them in little ramekins, but only one spoon. 

Lando breathed in the silence before hastily asking you what had been on his mind.

“Who was the man you were talking to?”

“Some stuck up think-tank-bitcoin-billionaire,” you huffed. “He asked me if my company was up for auction.” 

It wasn’t company as in a business. It was company as in your time of day. Or time of night more likely. He was asking to spend the night with you. Would audibly gagging be too improper of a reaction? Lando had to fight himself to not do it. 

“What was your answer?” he wondered, trying to keep his cool. 

Your lips turned into a smug smile. “That it’s free for people who deserve it, and then I walked away.” 

Lando chuckled, liking the fact that you showed a sense of pride with your actions. “Do I deserve your company?” 

“Haven’t asked you to leave yet, that should tell you something,” you mumbled, shrugging your shoulders.  

Lando nodded, scrunching his nose, a pink tint on his cheeks forming from the crisp air.

No, he was blushing. It wasn’t even cold outside. 

“Have you had fun otherwise?” He cleared his throat, making the conversation about something else. 

“I don’t know. I feel like a fraud, like I don’t belong,” you shrugged, fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of your dress. “I think I might have convinced multiple people in there that I’m a communist, just because I was raised with a working-class perspective on things.” 

Lando suppressed his laughter for it to not be too loud. You saw his eyes crinkle at the corners.  

“This entire thing just feels performative to me,” you added. 

“Oh, it totally is,” he agreed. 

You glanced back at the manor, hearing the sound of voices in the distance. Your face reflected a mixture of amazement and discomfort. “And don’t get me started on the way people look,” you began again. “My mascara smudged and my dress got wrinkled the minute I stepped into that humid room, yet everyone else continues to look flawless.” 

Lando thought about interrupting you, saying that you still looked flawless to him. Or maybe you didn’t, and that was the best part. He understood your point fully, though. 

You shook your head as you continued, a bitter sigh escaping your lips. “And I can’t walk in heels since I broke my ankle, and my dress shows my scar, and I’m just… being a miserable little twat.”  

You dropped your shoulders, looking down at your bare feet as your heels were on the ground next to them. It hadn’t even crossed Lando’s mind, the shoes nor the scar, but it made sense that you didn’t feel confident about it. That he thought you should be confident wouldn’t exactly change your mind. 

“Oh! And they don’t eat,” you hastily pointed out. “They just hold the food and look pretty.” 

That was definitely true. He knew that you couldn’t eat yourself full at functions like this. His own empty stomach was a testament to that. 

“Is that why you came out here with two desserts and one spoon?” he questioned, containing his laughter to not come across as judgmental. 

You giggled. “Have you seen Amélie?” 

Lando shook his head no. 

“It’s a movie. It doesn’t really matter, but one of the main character’s favourite things in life is cracking the sugar on a crème brûlée, and I… think I agree with that,” you explained, grabbing one of the ramekins and carefully smashing the caramelised surface.  

It made a slight sound. Your eyes lit up as you looked at it. “See? Did you hear that?” 

He couldn’t help but grin at your reaction. 

“Try the other one,” you urged, handing him the spoon.  

He had tried crème brûlée before but never in this way. Never with someone telling him about how it was the best thing in life. As he cracked the sugar, he laughed so hard he felt his chest vibrate. 

He knew he couldn’t eat the dessert because of his diet, but seeing you take a spoonful was almost satisfactory enough. 

“Your mind is so… special,” he smiled in disbelief. He didn’t know what he was saying anymore, he just knew he needed you to hear it. “I don’t get how the universe could’ve created you.” 

Your smile faded as your laughter turned quiet. “Is that a compliment?” 

“In the highest form, Bunny,” Lando insisted. 

He didn’t know how to read your reaction, your sudden silence was a shock for him. Had he ruined a perfect moment by saying too much? That’s when he saw it, the tears pooling in your waterline as you fought with yourself to not let them fall. 

Lando was a soft mess in seconds. “A-are you crying because I complimented you?” 

“I’m sorry,” you said, trying to laugh but your voice came out hoarse. 

“Don’t cry, it’s alright,” Lando said softly, reaching out to wipe the tears away from your face, gently cupping your cheek with his palm.

He crossed a line as he did, moving closer to you than ever before. 

You knew where this was going, and you weren’t prepared for it at all.

“I just…” You were full on crying now. “I have no idea who I am, and this environment really showed me that.” 

Your lack of confidence broke his heart. Things had really piled up on top of each other to now finally get to you. A stupid auction being your downfall, the thing that made you realise how much your life had put you through. 

“I can’t get a degree, I can’t do musicals, and I definitely cannot fit in here. I have no way of being the girl that you want me to be, Lando,” you sobbed, your breathing picking up as your hands gesticulated out of pure panic. 

Your words hung heavy over the garden, suffocatingly, as you honestly believed them to be painfully true.

“Hey… don’t say that,” Lando tried to comfort, grabbing ahold of your hands to stop you moving, centering your focus. “You have no idea what I want from you.”  

“I want to hear you laugh at my stupid jokes. I want to feel your painted nails when you hold my hand. I want to see you get all giddy over a crème brûlée,” he listed things as they came to mind.

The warmth from his hands surrounded you as you let yourself relax, exhaling loudly. 

“I want you to linger in every possible goddamned doorway you can find,” Lando continued, looking you deeply in the eyes. “That’s all. Nothing more.” 

You were so close that he could see how colours reflected in your eyes. He liked you in ways he didn’t know was possible — for the little things that he’d never thought about before with other people. He couldn’t think clearly anymore. He didn’t want to think clearly. Lando hesitated, his eyes searching yours, as if seeking permission. 

You knew where this was going, and you weren’t prepared for it at all.

He scanned your face, his gaze finally landing on your lips. You were waiting for him to move, for him to lean in, because you were too scared to do it yourself. But you wanted him to do it. You wanted it more than anything else. 

But all of a sudden, the lust in his expression turned into concern, and you felt something wet drip down on your upper lip. Blood. 

“Oh, fuck.” Your hands flew to your face, trying to stop the blood from dripping further.

Of course this would happen now. You were cursed, after all. What were you thinking? A pretty boy could not just kiss you. The universe had decided that happiness wasn’t for you. 

“Let me help—” Lando said, trying to get a hold of you to stay still, but you had already stood up. 

You moved to pick up your shoes, and Lando sat frozen in his spot. “I’m gonna walk back to the villa, you stay and do your rich person duties,” your voice cracked as you said it, taking a step back to avoid his proximity. You had panic written all over your face and blood on your hands. 

Lando’s emotions finally caught up with him as he too stood up to try and stop you. “Bunny, please! Don’t go, let’s talk about this,” he pleaded, hearing how pathetic he sounded. But he felt like he had no choice. 

You recoiled further away from him, your eyes glistening with tears as you started to walk, your bare feet over gravel, heels swinging from your hands. 

He couldn’t understand — how you’d gone from laughing about crème brûlées, to crying, to almost kissing each other, and then to you getting a nosebleed. He also couldn’t understand how he had let you get away. Fuck, was he stupid. 

His thoughts got interrupted by the sound of someone running on the gravel. He met Jasmine’s worried eyes, contemplating if she should just murder Lando now. 

“Did she just leave? What did you do?” 

Lando could only shake his head, running a hand through his hair, the gesture portraying his inner turmoil. “I didn’t do anything…” he muttered, sighing loudly. “I was about to kiss her, and then she got a nosebleed all of a sudden.” 

Oscar came walking after Jasmine, just close enough to hear what Lando said. “That’s so typical of her,” he breathed out, baffled at how you always managed to almost comically mess things up.

Jasmine rubbed her temples. “Are the two of you actually fucking stupid?” she questioned angrily before yelling, “Lando, don’t just stand there. Go after her!” 

“To do what? Get rejected again?” he gesticulated with his hands in defeat, feeling his voice crack. His own tears had started to form. 

Jasmine looked back at him like he was stupid. Lando was stupid. That was a fact he now knew.  

“To clean up the blood and then actually fucking kiss her — because she did not reject you, she’s just scared!” Jasmine shot back, an intensity in her eyes that made Lando listen. “All she knows is fear, and falling in love with you hasn’t exactly helped with that.” 

He was stuck, his feet glued to the floor, the weight of Jasmine’s words hit him like a punch in the stomach. Falling in love — that was what the two of you were doing. Lando had been too blinded by his own infatuation to realise that you were scared of it — scared of that stability because your life hadn’t been stable for years. You truly believed yourself to be cursed. 

Fuck, was he stupid. He needed to fix this, and that was quick.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

He left the auction, Oscar assuring him that he could handle the rest of the night alone. The villa was quiet when Lando returned. He didn’t know what he should say when he saw you. He didn’t even know what kind of mood you’d be in. 

For a moment, he stopped in the hallway with all the bedrooms. Your door was open, a faint yellow light seeping through. He heard you moving around, the tap running in your en suite bathroom. That made him dare to move, to stand in your doorway. 

Your room was a bit messy from earlier when you were getting ready, your suitcase basically turned inside out. Your dress was tossed on the floor, next to your heels. A small red stain could be seen on the beige soles. 

Suddenly, you exited the bathroom. Your face was washed clean from makeup and blood, and you were wearing an oversized sleep shirt, reaching your mid-thigh. 

You stopped abruptly when you saw him, first shocked, then annoyed. He had no right to use your own methods against you, even though you knew he was right. Whatever he’d said to you, he would be right. 

“Now is not the time to be lingering in some fucking doorway, Norris,” you snapped, more to mask your own panic than anything else. 

You walked up to the door with determined steps, your fingers hovering over the doorknob. Your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps as you clenched your fists, nails biting into your palms.

“I’m not letting you close that door, Bunny,” he said softly, but with an edge of determination, placing his hand on the door so it couldn’t move. 

“I don’t want to hear what you have to say,” you insisted, shaking your head as if to physically ward off his words.

Lando’s eyes softened, the frustration melting away to reveal an expression of raw sincerity. “Doesn’t that defy the point? Your mother’s entire idea with teaching you to linger?” 

“Don’t,” you whispered. He had no right to bring up your mother. 

“We might be dead tomorrow, but you won’t hear me out?” 

“Don’t say that,” you pleaded through gritted teeth, tightly closing your eyes to even bear with your emotions. 

“Why won’t you let me tell you that I like you?” 

He dropped the bomb. He had no option but to confess it to you. It was the scariest thing he’d ever done, yet when it was out there in the open, a weight was off his shoulders. This was meant to go this way. 

You opened your eyes. “Because I’ll screw this up like I always do!” you choked out, voice thick with unshed tears. “I got a nosebleed when you tried to kiss me. I told you — it’s like I’m fucking cursed!”

“Something always gets in the way of me and good things,” you continued. 

“I’m a good thing?” he whispered, but it almost echoed in the quiet room.

“That’s what you got from that?” you cried, looking up at him through wet eyelashes. “You don’t understand. Everything good that comes into my life, I mess up. I can’t even be normal around you because I’m so afraid of ruining it!”

“Because that’s the only thing that matters — that we like each other, that our feelings are mutual,” Lando explained like it was simple. “You’re not cursed. You’re just human. And so am I. We’re allowed to mess up, to be scared, to get nosebleeds at the worst possible moments.”

He took your hand, basically shaking as he held it. You didn’t move away. You let him hold you. You let him closer. 

“Or… if you are cursed, then I’ll start carrying a first aid kit,” Lando continued with a small smile, moving his free hand to wipe your cheek clean from tears. 

You let out a surprised snort, the sound mingling with your sobs. It was a ridiculous notion, yet somehow, it made perfect sense.

“Can I try kissing you again?” he softly wondered, a semblance of hope in his voice.

Lando watched as you started to smile at the question, nodding slowly. “Please, kiss me.”  

He brought both his hands up to your cheeks, your eyes intensely locking for a moment before he softly leant closer, his lips meeting yours in a featherlight connection.

The kiss was sweet. Softer than what you would’ve expected. It was also quite telling of all the emotions that you both harboured inside, finally being set free. 

Lando kissed you like it was important, like his life depended on you knowing how much it meant to him — like the two of you would never need another form of communication to tell each other things. This was for you to know that calling yourself cursed was just stupid. You were scared, that’s all. But you didn’t have to be scared anymore. 

He was the one to break the kiss, his breath hot against your face as he grinned. “See? Not cursed.” 

That was enough to get you laughing, turning your head down to lean against his chest as you let out a pathetic giggle. No blood, no broken bones, no compromised breathing. Okay, maybe your breathing was a little off, but that was to be expected after kissing someone. 

For a long, hazy moment, the two of you simply stared into each other’s eyes. How you ended up on the bed passed in a blur, the only thing your mind could focus on was Lando’s hands on your body. His lips back on yours. 

The kissing quickly grew fevered and devoted, his tongue exploring your mouth, neck, and chest as you melted against him and the soft mattress, your fingers clutching around him. He took away all of your thoughts, every lingering worry or doubt completely removed. Insecurities too, gone with the wind. 

He was breathless when he stopped for a moment to catch his breath. You fiddled with your fingers to undo the buttons on his shirt, revealing a landscape of freckled tan skin before your eyes. His palms moved over your hips, up your waist, cupping the underside of your breasts through the thin cotton of your t-shirt. 

As he moved to take off your shirt, you froze. Lando stopped in his tracks, waiting for you to say something. 

“The scar,” you said. “It makes me feel… weak, and I don’t want you to treat me like I’m weak.” 

Weak was the last word Lando would use to describe you. But he also understood. 

“I don’t have to see it. It’s alright like this if that’s what makes you comfortable,” he explained softly. 

You nodded, deciding on keeping your shirt on as you watched Lando remove his own. He was perfect, and you were you. Maybe that was enough. 

Lando caged you beneath him again, crawling over you, leaving sloppy kisses on your face, arms, and over the fabric of your shirt. The kisses ended with him biting your lower lip as his hands found home in a tight grip on your hips, the lace edge of your underwear tickling his palms. 

“Can I go down on you?” he whispered. His eyes looked for permission to continue, and you nodded, messily kissing him back.

He lowered back down your body again, his strong hands absentmindedly massaging the plush skin of your thighs, before finding the waistband of your panties, pulling them off you in a slow motion. He nestled between your legs, not breaking eye contact. 

You almost felt cold by being naked, even though the room was delightfully warm. You wanted to cringe at what his sight of you must be like, but he didn’t give you a chance to do so, a string of praise words falling from his mouth. 

As each word was said, he spread your wetness through your folds with a feathery movement of his fingers. Lando brushed your clit with a light touch, taking in your reaction before dipping his fingers into the pooling wetness.

“P-please, Lando, oh fuck—” Your voice was wrecked as you grew desperate for more. 

He grinned at your words as his face met your heat, leaving kisses around it before finally touching the part where you needed him the most. “So pretty,” he mumbled against you, kissing your clit. That made your brain short circuit. 

You reached down to push the curls of his forehead as he delved in, softly bringing you pleasure. Sucking on your clit with intention while his fingers curled deeper into you, his free hand gripping at your thigh, certain to leave crescent-shaped imprints from his fingernails as your soft skin spilled out between his fingers.

You truly did look pretty, though — through Lando’s eyes. With the evening glow of the sun shining through the windows and the white linen bedding surrounding your body, you looked angelic. As your shirt rode up, your stomach was revealed. He loved seeing your skin. Nipples pebbled through the t-shirt, hair dishevelled, skin gleaming from a thin layer of sweat. You made him painfully hard by just lying there, letting him taste you. 

“I’m—” You couldn’t get the words out, voice choking on your own moans, but Lando knew to increase the intensity. 

You were a fucking mess when you finished, letting that hazy feeling completely take over, whimpering his name out like it was the sweetest thing. He kept on babying your clit with the tip of his tongue until you tugged at his hair, lifting his face. He could’ve gone on forever if you’d let him. 

“Come up here,” you urged him, your voice shaky. You watched him lick his glossy lips, running a hand up your body in a soothing manner before collapsing next to you. 

“You should see how breathtaking you look right now,” he exhaled, looking at you with your face flushed and your eyes glossed over. You stared at him so deeply, catching your breath, as you realised you couldn’t decide what eye colour he had. They shifted from green, to blue, to brown. Fuck, you were spent. 

You thought for a while, and Lando could see it on your face, a mischievous grin forming on your lips before your hands moved down his stomach, stopping by his belt buckle. He let you undo it, your bottom lip nestled between your teeth as you teasingly looked up at him.

Already worked up from before, he moaned as you started to palm him over his trousers.

“I’m not gonna last if you do that,” Lando gasped, holding your hand still with a tight grip around your wrist. 

“Take them off, then,” you simply answered, earning a laugh. 

He couldn’t say no to that, moving awkwardly to get both trousers and underwear off as quickly as possible. He then settled closer to you, having you basically wrap your legs around him, clinging like a koala. You shared a look between each other, making sure that this was okay. It was so much more than okay. This felt necessary, like you were meant to do it. 

“I’m on the pill, so this is fine by me,” you explained to him, a tremble in your voice by having him so close to you. 

He kissed you before he did anything else, settling your nerves. Feeling your bodies mould together, creating a common heat. He glided himself through your folds, touching your already stimulated clit. As an act of desperation, you moved your hips lower, grinding against him. 

“You okay?” he chuckled. 

You hummed against the skin on his shoulder, playfully nibbling as you kissed him all over. His eyes met yours as he pushed into you, waiting patiently to see your reaction to the light stretch. You nodded, your breath hitching as he began moving more purposefully. 

The slow drags set of sparks of pleasure within you, so intense your eyes rolled back. You weren’t sure what kind of noises left your body, uncontrollable with the pleasure. Hearing Lando moan deeply into your ears made you feel less unsure.  

Completely intoxicated, you tried your best to take it all in. You focused on the golden shimmer in his eyes, the scattered freckles on his face, and the scar on his nose. It was so warm, and wet, feeling him thrust inside of you. You didn’t know what to do with your hands again, just desperately spreading them over his back to his shoulders. Your sharp nails were destined to leave claw marks. 

“Faster, baby,” you breathed out, ready for more. 

You felt Lando grin against your cheek as he heard the pet name. It had completely slipped out on accident, but that didn’t mean it drove him any less crazy. You felt him grip your body harder as he fucked up into you.

“Doing so well for me,” he moaned out your name. “C’mon, Bunny, let me see how pretty you are when you come again.”  

A litany of moans filled the room, from the both of you. That, along with the sounds of your bodies crashing together, made you fucking delirious. You were close, so close. You wanted to feel that feeling again, of him bringing you to the end.

You shamelessly used him as you felt the familiar fire spread through your veins. He wasn’t long after, almost lifting your body to get you closer to him as he finished. His moans were slow and shaky as he rested his lips on your forehead.

His hips lost all rhythm as he spilled into you, his cock twitching inside you while he slowly pumped you full of his release, thrusting several times as he rode it out. You wanted to memorise the guttural sounds and the tremble of his face muscles as he reached the ultimate high. 

“We’re a mess,” he commented, burying his face into the crook of your neck. 

You let out a small chuckle. “Stay still for a second,” you ordered him as you relaxed in his hold. Both of you sighed at the sensation of him filling you up completely. You would enjoy this feeling of having him as close as humanly possible for as long as he let you.

“I don’t ever want to move.” he murmured against your hair.

You caught your breaths in unity, staying close together without saying much more. You didn’t need to. Lando knew that all his future dreams would take place here, lying quietly next to you, in your own sacred heaven. You two, sharing heavy breathing and sighs, after delicately bruising each other’s bodies. 

He looked you deep in your eyes, seeing how tired you were, but solidifying what was once a doubt for you. He looked at you like you were a risk worth taking. A river worth wading. A river worth drowning in. 

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Lando woke up the morning after feeling well rested, in a bed that was warm and the sheets scented by you. He felt you moving next to him as he came out of his slumber, mumbling something about it being too hot and how you had forgotten to open the window before falling asleep. 

He didn’t understand how you felt hot when all he felt was ice cold as you left him alone in bed. The room got brighter as you moved the curtains, opening a window to let in the outside air. He opened his eyes to see you, back turned against him, stretching your body to wake up. A grin plastered on his face. He was painfully happy. 

You moved to wrap your arms around yourself, lifting the hem of the shirt you’d slept in. As you pulled it over your body, Lando got a view of your entire being. He was certainly awake now. Naked, your skin glowed golden technicolour from the sunlight, in stark contrast to the white room. 

You knew exactly what you were doing as you slowly turned around. 

“Just look at you…” Lando exhaled. “Fucking gorgeous, Bunny.” 

In seconds, you were back in bed next to him, pulling the bedding up to hide your face. 

“Gonna act all shy now?” he teased, chuckling. 

As you peeked back out, Lando was quick to get closer to you. He hovered over you as his hands found your body. 

He didn’t even have to tell you — your lips already parting as his thumb caressed your cheek, moving closer to your mouth. You took his thumb in your mouth, softly sucking as it rested on your tongue. You saw how his eyes fluttered at the feeling, gently removing it to press a passionate kiss to your wet lips. 

Lando was hesitant to let his hands wander lower, softly cupping your breasts and littering your sternum with open-mouthed kisses. His fingertips lightly pinched the sensitive peaks of your nipples, as he looked up at you through tired eyes, always wanting your reassurance, as his lips got close to the scar. 

You nodded gently, allowing him to kiss it. You didn’t like touching the scar, but somehow, you had no issue when his mouth did it. He kissed it gently before moving to kiss your nipple. He smiled with pride at the breathy gasp you let out as he placed his mouth on you. You were practically whining at the pressure of him sucking at your skin. 

He released you after a moment, lying down next to you. He felt your heartbeat through your chest as his head rested on top of your breast, softly padded by the plush skin. You looked down at him with joy, placing a finger under his chin so he was looking right back at you. 

Slowly, your fingers traced his face. He smiled at your orange nail polish. You took your time tracing the bridge of his nose, stopping when you got to the little mark he had right across it. He had his scars too. 

“My heart hurts,” you groaned quietly, as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“Huh? Are you serious?” he mumbled against the skin of your chest. 

“It’s a dull ache, a desire almost,” you explained, and Lando understood your point. 

“I think it’s contagious,” Lando smiled. He let the words linger in the air before adding, “You should come with me to Hungary after this.” 

You sighed, realising how hard it would be to say no to him in the future. “I don’t go back to uni for another couple of weeks, so…” 

“I’m buying you a plane ticket right now,” he said, reaching for his phone, but your hands stopped him. 

“No,” you said. 

For a second, Lando started to second-guess everything. 

“Join me in the shower first.” 

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Thank you for reading ♡ Feedback is well appreciated!

[formula-nyoom]

I'm Proud of You

Pairing: Platonic!Grid x Fem!Driver!Reader

Summary: Being the youngest and newest driver to the grid is not an easy adjustment to make and it ends up taking a toll on you. Thankfully some of the other drivers on the grid are there to look out for you.

A/N: Was going to wait till Saturday to post this, but I had a shit day today so I decided to post it now. Hope you enjoy!

~~~

No one really knew what Mercedes was thinking when they announced that they were signing you, an F2 rookie who placed 6th in the Formula 2 Championship, as the one to take the 2nd Mercedes seat. Everyone expected you to be named a reserve driver, so that you could prepare for the jump to F1. Yet here you were, jumping straight into the deep end. Even after you heard the news that you would be racing in Formula One, you were left more with shock and confusion rather than excitement. 

Sure, you had done a couple of test drives for Mercedes and had participated in an F1 practice session or two, but you didn’t think that was enough to put you in contention for a Formula One seat. 

But the media thought otherwise, and so did Mercedes. 

Both your friends and family tried to reassure you that you were good enough to race in Formula One, and you had seen countless interviews of Toto Wolf saying that he had made the right decision in signing you.

But none of that could take away the fact that all eyes were now on you. 

The first female to race in Formula One, and now the youngest on the grid.

The season hadn’t even started and yet you felt like Atlas holding the world weight of pressure that was placed upon your shoulders. You now have something to prove. And everyone was waiting for you to either fly or fall.

Maybe that’s why you couldn’t find the courage to cross the turnstile that led into the paddock during the first race weekend of the season. Crossing over would make everything real. And you would be doing it alone, as both your family and your manager weren't able to get to the track till later in the day. 

“Did you forget your badge on the first day?” A voice said from behind you. You turned to see Charles and Pierre.

 “You can just jump over the gate. Yuki does it all the time.” Pierre said. 

 “No, I have my badge…I’m just nervous to enter the paddock.” You said, motioning with your head to the turnstiles.

 “What makes you so nervous?” Charles asked.

“There’s a lot of people. And cameras. And people with cameras. I feel like I’m gonna get swarmed as soon as my foot crosses the entrance.” You said.

 “You’re not wrong. The media doesn’t really know the definition of personal space.” Charles said, taking a sip of his coffee. “If you want, I can act as a buffer and draw the attention away while Pierre helps you get past.”

 “Would that work? I just want to get to the Mercedes hospitality.”

“Oh trust me, the media loves Charles. They’ll be too focused on getting pictures of him to see us walk by.” Pierre said. You looked back at the people past the entrance and there seemed to be more than when you last looked. 

 “Well…if you’re sure it will work then we might as well try.” You said. Charles smiled and gave you a nod. He then took the sunglasses that were hanging on his hat and put them on before entering the paddock. Immediately, the people that had cameras flocked to Charles and started to take his picture as he tried to walk through the paddock. You and Pierre waited a couple moments to build enough distance between you and Charles before the two of you entered the paddock. You clutched the straps of your bag tightly, expecting the nearby paparazzi to turn around and immediately start taking pictures of you and Pierre, but they were too focused on Charles.  

Pierre’s hand hovered over your shoulder as he tried to block you from most of the cameras while guiding you through the paddock. While the two of you managed to pass Charles without getting noticed, you couldn’t help but feel a bit claustrophobic, seeing Charles surrounded by so many people trying to take his picture. Eventually, you and Pierre managed to make it to the Mercedes hospitality building.

“Is it always going to be like this?” You asked Pierre.

 “Unfortunately, yes. Especially since you’re the newest on the grid. I recommend you invest in a good pair of sunglasses. But I’m proud of you for getting past your first swarm of paparazzi.” Pierre said, ruffling your hair. You laughed and swatted his hand away as Charles walked up to the two of you.

 “Whew! Thank god Lewis walked in. I felt like those reporters and paparazzi would never leave.” Charles said.

 “Sorry for making you go through that.” You said, feeling a bit guilty. 

“Pas de soucis. I’m used to it and know how to handle them. Though I will advise that you never enter the paddock by yourself. The reporters are like vultures.” Charles said. “Anyway, we will see you at the press conference, no?”

 “Yep. I’ll see you there.” You said. Charles patted your shoulder before him and Pierre headed to their own team's hospitality. 

~~~

You were beginning to hate the press conferences that you had to go to. Any question that was directed towards you involved your performance on track, or lack thereof as some reporters like to put it. You were getting tired of having to answer questions that made you feel like a failure.

“This question is for (Y/N). We’re now five races into the season and you’ve been continuously out qualified and out placed by your teammate, George? Is there a certain struggle that you’re having with the car that may be the cause of this?”

If you could walk away from this question, you would. But instead you stayed in your seat and picked up the microphone next to you. Damn Mercedes PR training.

 “There’s still some learning with the car. The engineers have said that the car isn’t up to the standards they want it to be, so I am struggling a bit on track.” You said, giving your best PR approved answer that you could manage.

“But would it be safe to say that you are under performing at Mercedes in comparison to your teammate?” The reporter asked. You tried to steal your expression and act like the comment didn’t bother you.

 “What kind of question is that?” It wasn’t you that asked it, but Lando, who was sitting to your right. You looked at him with some confusion. So did the reporter.

“Is there something you would like to add, Lando?”

“Yea. You can’t say she’s underperforming when she’s a rookie that has only completed five races.” Lando said, an upset expression clear on his face. The reporter cleared his throat.

 “I’m just saying, some have doubts that Mercedes were too hasty in signing an F2 rookie and I wanted to know if that was being reflected in (Y/N)’s driving.” The reporter said, trying to control the situation

 “I think we already know your opinion on Mercedes' decision based on the questions you ask.” Carlos said, who was sitting next to Lando. “I agree with Lando that it’s unfair to judge (Y/N) based on her first five races.”

 “I’d say she’s actually doing pretty good for a rookie, considering she’s been able to score points in two out of the 5 races she’s done so far.” Lando said.

 “Much more than you have ever done.” Carlos said to the reporter. You tried to hide the smile that was slowly forming on your face but inevitably failed as you picked your microphone back up.

“To my two fellow drivers points, I think you’re discounting me too early. I will admit that there is still a learning curve and with the continuous upgrades that Mercedes keeps bringing to the car, I am constantly having to adjust to all the new additions while also trying to get used to driving a Formula One car every other weekend.” You said, making direct eye contact with the reporter. “But I will eventually get used to the car. And when I do, I think I will be able to match George and possibly start out qualifying.”

That seemed to silence the reporter, as he sat back down. It also seemed to signify the end of the press conference as reporters started to pack their things and you and the other drivers sitting on the couch with you got up and left the room.

“Mate, I’m so proud of you and how you handled that reporter.” Lando said once you were out of the room. He placed his hand on your shoulder and pulled you into a side hug.

 “I was ready to walk out of the press conference when I heard that question. Why do these reporters always have to compare me to George?”

 “Because that's what they do. All of us get compared to our teammates because our teammates are seen as our biggest competition.” Carlos said. “You’re gonna get it more because you’re new.”

“Just remember that you can refuse to answer any questions that make you uncomfortable.” Lando said. 

 “Even the sexist ones?” You asked. Carlos and Lando nodded their heads.

“Especially the sexist ones.” Carlos said.

 “Better yet, I’ll answer them for you in the most ridiculous manner so that way they’ll stop asking you questions like that.” Lando said, making you laugh.

~~~

So many more races. Too many races. How does a Formula One driver get through all these races and have a chance to calm down? You were used to things going fast, but lately you just wanted a chance to slow down and breathe. 

That’s how you found yourself sitting on the floor in an empty VIP room, looking out the window at a mostly empty racetrack. Phone in hand. Staring at the clock that displayed the timezone back at home.

2:00AM. Your parents are definitely asleep right now. It’s not a good time to call them, no matter how much you want to. 

You were so focused on staring at your phone, you didn’t notice that Max had walked in.

“Sadly I don’t think drivers count as VIPs at the races they have to participate in.” Max said as he sat down next to you, a Redbull in his hand.

 “It’s the only place that I can find privacy and some peace and quiet.” You said still staring at your phone.

2:01AM.

You turned your phone off and let out a sigh, placing it down next to you.

 “Something the matter?” Max asked. You hesitated. You didn’t want to burden a 3-time World Champion with your upset thoughts, that was for your non-existent therapist. But then again, maybe talking to someone who has been in your position before may make you feel a bit better.

“I haven’t found a good time to call my parents since the start of the season.” You said. “They were able to make it to my first race, which was amazing. I was really glad they could come…but with so many races on the calendar, it’s hard for them to come to all of them, and all the changing time zones makes it hard to find a good time to call them.” You told him. “I miss talking to them.”

Max looked at you, took in how you were hugging your knees. Max sometimes forgets that you're now the youngest driver on the grid. On the track he sees you as competition, but now he sees you as the overwhelmed rookie that you looked like right now.

“I understand what you're feeling. It does get overwhelming a lot of times.” He said. You turned to him.

 “How do you deal with it?”

“No matter what country we are in, I try to find a day or time where I can get the farthest away from being a race car driver. A spot that’s farthest away from the track where I’m not “Max Verstappen, The Red Bull Driver”, but just “Max”.” He said.

 “Don’t you get recognized wherever you go?” You asked

“Absolutely. But being away from the track, even for an hour, makes me less overwhelmed. And in regards to wanting to talk to your parents, yes finding a time to communicate is hard, but sometimes you just have to throw timezones out the window and call your parents. Even if you can only talk to them for five minutes, it’s still five minutes that you get to talk to them.” Max explained. 

You thought about what Max said. It would make you feel a bit guilty, waking your parents up in the middle of the night just because you wanted to talk to them. But at the same time, sometimes they’re the only people that could make you feel better. You looked back down at your phone.

2:05 AM

You’d be ok with just five minutes.

 “I think I’m gonna call my parents.” You said to Max. He smiled and gave you a nod before standing up.

 “I’ll let you have your privacy. But my driver’s room is open if you want to talk about anything except racing.” Max said before leaving the room. You smiled at him before calling your parents.

~~~

Finally you had finished a race with what you thought was a good race result. P6 was your highest placement so far this season and it was something you should be proud of. But even if you thought it was a good result, you knew that people were going to comment that George had gotten P4, placing ahead of you again. To you, it felt like no matter how high you climbed up the grid, if George finished in front of you, your result wasn’t something to be proud of. 

You were knocked out of your thoughts by someone bumping your shoulder. It was Oscar walking alongside you. The fact that he was looking directly at you made you assume the bump was intentional to get your attention.

“Proud of you.” Oscar said. “This was just like that one season of Formula 2 we raced in together.”

You scoffed but smiled.

 “Yea, except I now have the knowledge not to shunt the car into the back of yours.” You said. You spent most of thid race chasing Oscar’s rear wing and were glad that you didn’t do what you had just said.

“That time was an accident. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” Oscar said. The two of you stopped walking as you got closer to where the podium interviews were taking place. The two of you watched as Charles was getting interviewed about his winning result. 

“So am I gonna see you up on that podium this season?” Oscar asked. You didn’t want to shake your head, but your body acted on instinct. You have been shaking your head a lot these days.

 “That seems unlikely. I haven’t been able to match George’s pace at all and he keeps out qualifying me.” You said. Oscar looked at you confused.

 “What are you on about? You were only 2 seconds off George and that was only because I was in between the two of you.” He said. You sighed.

“Yea but it was still 2 seconds behind George. It doesn’t matter how much time is between the two of us, if I’m behind him that’s all the media is going to care about.” You said. “I’ll never have the pace to pass him.”

“Hey!” Oscar grabbed your shoulders so that you would face him. “You have the pace. You’ve been building it up this whole season. At the start you were what? 10 seconds behind him? Now you’re two. Soon there’s going to be no gap because you’ll be ahead of him at some point. It’s bound to happen.”

Maybe it was the adrenaline finally wearing down, or the fact that Oscar was saying something you had been wanting to hear from your race engineer, or your team princpal, or hell, even it’s something the media should be noticing: that you’re catching up and proving your pace. Oscar’s words were making you feel like you belonged on the grid.

 “You think so?” You asked, needing the confirmation. 

“I know so. Screw what everyone else says.” Oscar said. “Are you proud of your P6?”

 You looked back at your car, then at the car of your teammate’s before your eyes landed back at Charles. You’d be in his spot at some point this season, you just knew it.

 “Yea. I’m proud of myself.”

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞'𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦

↳ summary: the x-men can't seem to leave you alone, even if you've made it clear that you want nothing to do with them. as a last-ditch effort, they send logan, who's a little different than the rest

↳ notes: man writing this fucked me up. i kept editing it because i didn't like how it sounded, so some feedback would be much appreciated

↳ warnings: mentions of blowing things up in a past instance, but no one died. reader is a mutant and their powers are kept ambiguous, but it is implied they can somehow cause explosions

↳ song: promiscuous—nelly furtado

masterlist | commissions | carrd

The first time they sent someone, you had been excepting it

You weren't dumb. You knew the difference between an innocent bystander and a hired gun; or at least something along those lines. The way people walked talked and carried themselves was always a dead giveaway, and recently you had been surrounded by a few too many intense stares and stiff shoulders for your liking. A lot more than you were used to, in fact. Maybe that's what prompted you to start taking a new way home from work instead of the usual combination of cross walks and dirty bus seats.

The quick guy with silver hair was their first attempt at contact. You had found him waiting outside your apartment for you to get home all but a week after noticing the new attention on you, and you would have ignored him too if it wasn't for the fact that he was sitting on the outside your balcony, kicking his feet merrily off the side about ten stories above the pavement below without a care in the world. And with what looked like a twinkie in his hand, too.

You'd closed the blinds without a second thought, tossing him a fake grin and a little wave when he eventually turned around as you slammed them shut. You were fairly certain he could have stopped you in no time flat, if the way you would watch him zip away in the blink of an eye later said anything, but you took a heat-of-the-moment gamble and were satisfied when all your efforts got was a whine from the other side of your window pane. His mouth was too full of pre-packaged pastry to say anything in the moment, you realized

"Not interested." You called over your back as you began to retreat into your kitchen without another moments notice.

"You haven't even heard what I want!" He said thickly, clearly trying to swallow as he spoke. You must have startled him a little then. Good.

"And I don't need to."

He left a few minutes later when his one sided conversationalist skills got him no where, and you responded by throwing a frozen pizza in the lower half of your oven.

You had been craving pepperoni all day anyway.

The second person try was a bit more aggressive.

They didn't have the decency to wait for you to come home this time. Instead, you found yourself looking up from your laptop as a chair was pulled out across from you at the quaint table you sat at. It made a scraping noise, and you tensed the muscles in your hands for a moment at the sound.

"Can I help you." Your eyebrow quirked up as you looked at the woman across from you. She had blonde hair, and what you thought were the brownest eyes you had even seen. You had trouble looking anywhere but into them for a second. When they hit the light, you swore they turned yellow just for a moment, and she looked about as annoyed as you were that she was sitting by you. You didn't have to wait long to find out why.

"We've been trying to reach you." The surrounding noise of the café hardly disturbed the hard tone in her voice. "You're avoiding us."

At least this time these people had the common sense to approach you in public. If you were any form of confrontational, which you very much weren't, you could have started a fight the last time. Who knows if you would have won against super speed and whatever else the first guy had— you weren't exactly sure about the extent of his powers, and at this point didn't care —but the point remains that some damage could have been done. Now, in the middle of a coffee shop on a busy afternoon, it would be a bit harder to start a fight. Not that you were seriously concidering it. If anything, you wanted to duck into a large crowd just to loose this new recruiter, or whatever they were called. You didn't exactly know if they had a name for this type of situation.

"I have no idea who you are." Your tone matched her own, dealing out the half lie nonchalantly. You weren't technically wrong, really. You didn't know her, nor did you know that other man that had shown up before. But you knew what they wanted, and you'd be damned if they didn't pin you down without a bit of a struggle.

Moving with a speed quick enough to get your message across, but not fast enough as to alert any of the surrounding coustomers that something was up, you closed your laptop, abandoned your now lukewarm drink, and started for the door. You only paused in your movements after a weight settled over the back of your shoulder, and you carefully turned your neck to look down at the hand resting firmly on you.

"I don't recommend doing that." You said with a bit of a warning tone in your voice, looking her right in the eyes as you did so. They had since shifted from dark brown to an almost hazel shade, and you filed that information away for later use.

Her grip remained where it was for a moment. Then a thought seemed to cross her mind, and she let go of her hold on your shirt; even if a bit reluctantly.

You didn't stick around to see if anything else would happen. You just made your way out of the shop and into the bustling street, not caring if she followed. They already knew where you lived anyway.

"Taxi!!"

The final person they sent for you, you hadn't seen coming.

Every other time— from the teleporting blue kid, to the woman with white hair and fair skin, and even the tall guy in glasses that had turned a little blue when you pushed your way past him —you had been able to prepare beforehand. At the very least you were able to lock your doors before going out and about your day. You knew that wouldn't stop them in the slightest, but it was a silent message to stay out of your business.

But this guy? This guy just didn't care at all.

"You know, you're really nailing this first impression thing."

A gruff voice sprang to life at the same moment that your hallway lights did, doing a fine job at catching you off guard. You managed to not jump, but with the way the intruders lips tilted up, you figured he knew he had surprised you.

"Oh, fuck my life."

You were really not feeling like another impromptu visit tonight. You had gotten home from a rough day of work a couple of hours ago, only to realize that you had finally blown through all your food, and was once more sent back out into the city to look for a grocery store. You had been looking forward to finally resting your feet, and maybe your eyes a few hours earlier than planned, and you most certainly weren't in the right state of mind to entertain this hulking figure of a man and the proposition that came with him.

You looked at him harshly. He had muscles for days, and a brown leather jacket to accentuate just how large he was. You knew for a fact that he was a few weight classes up from the last guy that had been sent to your house, and you wondered if this was their way of trying to intimidate you into forcefully accepting their offer.

Tiny scars dotted his face and the skin on his neck. You wondered why there were so few, considering that you already knew what he did for a living, but also knew better than to question someone like him. Especially since he was already standing in the doorway to your home, looking like he owned the place.

"Go away." You didn't grant him any sort of emotion in your voice as you walked in the direction of your fridge. The plastic bags full of your food for the week swung in your arms, and for a moment you thought this new guy was going to block your way into the rest of the house before he backed off with a roll of his shoulders.

You clocked his broad chest and bruised knuckles out of the corner of your eyes as you opened the ice box and slowly placed some frozen veggies in side by side. He had either gotten here straight from a fight, or was itching for one. You figured it was probably the former considering he hadn't jumped you the second you walked through the door. Or you know, maybe he just had fucked up hands. You could never tell with people at this point.

"You're pleasant." The mans wry smile was nothing but headache educing as you finished putting the cold groceries up. You snorted with hollow amusement.

"Try being stalked for a month and a half. It really makes you feel like being hospitable."

"Try being the guy that gets sent to get in contact with you. It ain't exactly the way I wanted to be spending my Friday night either." He parroted back your words while running a hand down his face and across what you had since recognized as mutton chops in the process.

"When are you going to tell that professor of yours that I'm not interested in his little passion project." You think that might have been the first time you ever directly acknowledged what exactly was going on. Every other time you had just told the other person to get lost or slammed a door in their face to really get the point across, but the way this guy was looking at you gave you the feeling that he wouldn't be as easy to shoo away as the others, and you weren't really feeling up for a giant display of effort right about now.

"You could always tell him yourself, bub." His eyes followed your face as you crossed the room to stop in front of him, hand outstretched with something that ignited a small smirk on his face.

"Trying to bribe me?" He asked, going to take the fresh beer you offered him all the same. You shook your head.

"No. My master plan actually consists of getting you shit-faced drunk so you guys will finally leave me alone." You watched as his hand hesitated in mid-air slightly, and you misinterpreted his silent amusement at your jab for skepticism. "I've just got too much beer and a stranger in my apartment that's not going to leave me alone anytime soon, that’s all." You relented with a shrug.

"Fair enough." He took the brown bottle by the neck and popped open the top without so much as looking around for a bottle opener. When the cap went rushing to the floor less than a second later, you squinted.

"What are you then? Super strong? Or is your power alcoholism." That got a rough chuckle out of him. He swallowed about half of the bottle in one go before answering, and you sucked at your teeth as he did so.

"Something like that."

"Wow. Really feeling the comradery here." You didn't miss the way he deadpanned at that, and you figured he was thinking about all of the times you had kicked every other pursuer to the curb without even letting them get a word in edge wise. Still, you pushed on. "Remind me how its fair that you and your friends know all about me, but I have a new hero-of-the-week showing up on my doorstep every other day without so much as a clue as to what they could do to me?"

"About as fair as your little accident in Colorado." He responded without a seconds hesitation. You felt a little perspiration form on the back of your neck, and chalked it up to the lack of a.c in the room. Even if it was anything but.

"If you're here to try and convince me to join your little superhero team, I hate to tell you, but it isn't going to work. Just like it didn't work the past ten times." You ignored his last comment and made yourself comfortable on your living room couch. "Do you have a name? I've never really stuck around to talk to one of you this long before, and it's annoying to keep rendering to you as 'some guy' in my head."

He paused abruptly while drinking the beer, and you barely held back from rolling your eyes at his change in mood.

"It's Logan." He finally bit out reluctantly. You got the feeling that the only reason he told you was because he was here by request. If it has been any other circumstances, you had no doubts that he would have told you to fuck off. He gave off that energy.

"You already know mine, so I'm not gonna bother." You kicked your feet up and let your head hit the back of the couch with a sigh. "Just let me know when you finally get bored and head out. I want to make sure my landlord knows to blacklist you from the building after you're gone."

"Is this how you got everyone else to leave? By annoying them to death?" Logan sounded more entertained then you would have liked, and you blamed it on the beer.

"Depends. Is it working?"

"I've been sleeping at a school filled with screaming kids for the past few weeks. You're going to have to try harder than that to get me out of here." He took another swig.

"What will it take to get you to leave me alone. All of you." Your voice dipped out of it's usually casual tone for a more annoyed one. You were used to playing the long game when it came to getting people to leave you alone, but at this point it was getting ridiculous with the amount of people that they were throwing at you, and it was starting to wear you out. You weren't sure if Logan could tell your patience was being tested, and you weren't sure if you wanted him to.

Logan raised one eyebrow in your direction as an answer to your question, and you sighed.

"I'm not taking a stupid fucking spot on the X-Men if that's what you're implying. What do I have to do to convince you guys that I'm not up for it; blow up a building on accident or something?" The word 'again' went unsaid, but the implication was there.

You watched as Logan seemed to throw something around in his mind for a moment.

"Do you want to know why I joined the X-Men?" He eventually asked.

"Because you had nothing else to do with yourself other than styling your hair real stupid? Seriously what's with this horn thing you've got going in."

"I joined because they helped pull me off a dark path, kid." He barreled past your sarcasm, shutting you down quicker than you would like to admit. His tone was laced with something you recognized all as hatred, and you knew it wasn't directed at you, but rather himself. You knew the feeling all too well.

"I was running from something that I didn't even know I was trying to avoid." He continued. "And if it wasn't for the Professor and his 'stupid fucking team', I wouldn't have ever stopped."

For the first time in the past few minutes, you allowed one of your walls to come down as he spoke. You stared at him with a tired look lingering behind your gaze, choosing this time to listen rather than to ignore.

"I'm not running from anything." Even as you said it, you knew it was a lie. Logan didn't even have to look at you for you to sigh and lean forward again.

"I can see why the Professor wants you on the team." You felt the cushions on the opposite end of your couch dip slowly as he sat down. The now empty beer bottle was still in his hand, but as you looked over at Logan, you found his eyes filled to the brim with nothing but the honest truth.

It was a strange, tense moment. Both you and Logan could admit that. You were clearly filled with regret for your past actions, no matter how accidental they might have been, and conflicted with yourself because of it. Logan could do nothing more but watch as you battled with yourself over his words. His original plan had been to come here, show off a claw or two if needed, and bring you back to the school with a characteristic scowl on his face. But all that was thrown out the window when you offered him a beer, and when he was finally able to get a good look at you.

You looked exactly how he used to before one of his old cage matches. Detached and losing yourself. He could see it in your eyes.

The room delved into silence. You wrung your hands together and planted your feet. Logan watched as you seemed to have a silent conversation with yourself, and he began to regret not pacing himself with the beer. He wasn't anywhere near affected by the alcohol, that's to say. He just wished he had something to do other than sit in your home with squared shoulders and a furrowed brow.

"If I took one trip over to the place, would you guys let up on whatever this is?" You finally asked. Logan pushed down a faint smirk as you turned your neck to look at him.

"Sure."

You didn't say anything else, and you didn't have to. You got up without another word and grabbed a bag from a nearby closet. Logan found himself leaning on your doorframe as you stuffed a few essentials down into your travel bag in the room over, and he remained there until you finished.

"Still curious about my powers?" Logan decided to bait you just a little further as you shut the door to your apartment with a click of your keys, and he had trouble keeping a straight face when you looked back at him with curiosity dancing across your features.

Without saying anything, he held one of his hands up, and let you watch as his trademark claws popped up slowly. Like seasonal weeds in a garden full of flowers. The appendages let out a slight sliding noise as they did so, and you blinked once. Twice. Three times.

"And I thought my powers were bad." You finally said after a moment, and Logan scoffed at you.

"Kid, everyone thinks their powers are bad at first."

You seemed to take that as a challenge, and Logan watched as a bit of that fire that he'd heard about from Storm and the others flared up in you.

"Yeah? You ever accidently blow up a boiler room and take out half your high school's classes, big guy?" Your grin was all teeth as the two of you made your way down the complex hallway. Logan slowed his pace so you could keep up, and turned around so he could fully look at you as he walked backwards.

"Big guy?" He questioned you with a tilted of his head, looking about as unimpressed as he could.

"I mean yeah." You snickered. "Just look at your, well, everything." You took to gesturing at his entire being, something that got you a huff from the other man.

"Maybe you're just small." He shot back. You laughed and shook your head, looking down at yourself. Yeah right.

"And maybe I'm right, and you're just freakishly big."

Your banter continued all the way down to the elevator, where you had a hard time holding in your laughter as Logan accidentally almost stabbed the down button with his claws, apparently having forgotten that they were even out.

You couldn't help but wonder if he was always like this; if everyone at the school was like this.

Maybe going for a visit wasn't as much as a bad idea as you'd thought.

[wonderjanga]

Marvel’s Lives

As you guys know, there have been previous champions. They’ve all lived different lives and such. Some have been men, some women, and are some genders that don’t exist anymore. Point is, no one life is the same.

Let’s say some female heroes are talking about abortion one day and out of nowhere Cap just chimes in:

Marvel: “Oh yeah, pregnancy is tough, man. Giving birth is not for the weak. I’m speaking from experience here. Anyone who doesn’t want that, shouldn’t do it.”

Female JL members: “What…?”

Black Canary: “Marvel, last I checked, you were a man.”

Marvel: “Actually, a few thousand years ago, I used to be a woman!”

Female JL members: “???”

Marvel: “I’ve been a woman, multiple times actually.”*proceeds to walk away like he didn’t drop that on them*

They’re all thinking he’s trans, but no? His words imply he’s fluid? The thing is though is that Marvel’s never really shown that he’s either. The question was later asked by Hawkwoman when he was making oobleck in the kitchen of the Watchtower

Hawkwoman: “Captain.”

Marvel: “Yes, Ms. Hawkwoman?”

Hawkwoman: “Are you a woman?”

Marvel: *looks up from his oobleck to her, looking confused* “No? Why?”

Hawkwoman: “Some of the other girls were talking about how you were a woman at some point.”

Marvel: “Ooooh that. I was a woman. Yeah.”

Hawkwoman: “So you’re not anymore. What did you look like as a woman, if I may ask? Also what is that?” *points to the oobleck*

Marvel: “Oobleck.” *offers bowl off oobleck to her for her to play with* “Also, sure. Just a sec.” *mutters a spell*

Hawkwoman: *pokes the oobleck*

Marvel: *poofs and is now a female champion from like seven thousand years ago. His suit also changed to the previous champion’s own suit* “Tada!”

Hawkwoman: *does a double take when she sees him* “You… Certainly have a darker complexion.”

Marvel: “Yeah. If I remember correctly, I lived in the Middle Eastern area back then. That’s probably why.”

Hawkwoman: “And why are you white now?”

Marvel: “My appearance changes every few a hundred years or so. That includes my skin color, gender, and other features.”

Hawkwoman: “Oooooh. Okay then.”

They proceeded to play together with the oobleck after that.

Like ten minutes after that initial interaction…

WW: “Shayera. There you are. I was wondering if you wish to spar with me.” *notices Marvel* “Who is this? A new hero?”

Marvel: *turns around, hands covered in oobleck*

Hawkwoman: *also turns around, hands covered in oobleck* “What’d you say? I was distracted.”

WW: “I was wondering if you wanted to spar with m…” *trails off when she sees Shazam’s lighting bolt on fem Marvel* “Brother?”

Marvel: “Hi, Ms. Wonder Woman.” *waves an oobleck covered hand*

WW: “Why’re you a woman?”

Marvel: “Ms. Hawkwoman asked.” *shrugs*

The three then proceeded to play with the oobleck together.

Then, there was the time someone asked Marvel about his religion when they heard he believed in the Greek Gods.

Marvel: *shrugs* “I’ve been multiple different flavors of pagan. Fun fact, a couple thousand years ago, I used to be a ritualistic cannibal. It was apart of the offerings and rituals of a shaman. Or at least the types of shamans of that time in that specific empire.”

JL member: “Do you still eat people now?”

Marvel: “That’s not important, the point is, if there’s a religion, I most likely at some point practiced it. Or at least the super old version of it.”

JL member: “Okay? But do you still eat people now??”

Marvel: “I guess I’m saying I’m kinda in between religions?”

JL member: “Can you please stop ignoring the questioning ?”

He continued to ignore the question.

Of course, the ritual cannibal thing isn’t the only one of the outlandish things Billy’s casually admitted to doing. Eventually though, things can get a little bit too much for some members.

Marvel: *telling them about another thing he did in a past life*

GL: “Okay! That’s enough, dude!”

Marvel: *concerned* “What? Did I say something wrong?”

GL: “No, I’m just confused as to why you’ve done all these things, man. Are these like side quests you under go? Or like…? What’s going on, pal?”

Marvel: “Nothing…? These are just things I’ve happened to do.” *shrugs*

GL: “So you’re willingly telling me you tried to trample someone to death with a horse just for funsies?”

Marvel: “Well, when you put it like that-”

Flash: “Wait, what about the time you told me you were a princess before princesses were a thing?”

Marvel: “I uh-”

Superman: “And the time you told me that you used your lightning powers to become a cult leader?”

Marvel: “Okay, I get it. I’ll stop tell you guys about myself.”

MM: “Captain, it’s not that we don’t want you to tell us about yourself. It’s instead that your stories seem to have no cause for them.”

Flash: “Yeah! Like why did you feel the need to become a cult leader? How were you a princess?? Why would you want to trample someone with a horse???”

Marvel: *shrugs*

Flash: “Wha- Don’t just shrug!”

Marvel: “I was a different person back then.”

Superman: “That’s a little too cryptic, bud.”

[sweetlemontart]

call me by his name | yoon jeonghan [M]

summary ⇾ to you, one of jeonghan's most admirable trait is his candid nature. he's straightforward with most people—if he's angry, they'll definitely know. but with you? he'd rather swim the ocean day and night than take his anger out on you. well, that is, of course, unless you ask him to.

PAIRING // yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

GENRE // explicit smut, established relationship, some fluff, mostly smut, sub!reader, jeonghan tries to be angry hard!dom but is actually a soft!dom cause he's too in love with mc, not much plot tbh mostly just smut

WARNING // 18+, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex and fingering (f receiving), degradation, choking, hair pulling, some spanking, creampie, slight dacryphilia, orgasm denial(?) ig, mentions of mc's past relationship with ex!seungcheol

WORD COUNT // 8.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE // me casually coming back on here and posting after almost 2 years of radio silence (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡ btw this is my very first svt fic hehe i started liking them like a month ago? watching going svt is the only thing keeping me sane during my second year of uni :') i love jeonghan and all his manipulating mind games & cheating ways, it's the most attractive thing to me !! might drop a wonwoo fic soon too bcs he's a cutie and his wip is coming along nicely. hope u guys have been doing good hehe do like and reblog if u enjoy reading this, song rec is blue foundation - eyes on fire (skeler remix)

masterlist link

Jeonghan isn't a particularly placid man. He's not excessively ill-tempered per se, but he is remarkably patient when it comes to you. You know how he is when he's angry, and you can't recall a single time when you've been on the receiving end of his wrath. 

When something ticks him off, his eyes will darken and the heated stare he gives is shrouded beneath his lashes. When he is truly livid, he'll usually walk away from the situation, and there'll be no room for anyone to say something they'll end up regretting later on. 

It's incredible, really, that he possesses the ability to bottle his anger up when it involves you. Anger is an emotion that can rarely be suppressed, but Jeonghan does it with remarkable ease. 

On any other day, perhaps you'd appreciate his effort to control his anger, but not tonight. You've made a serious mistake, one that goes against the one thing Jeonghan had explicitly stated from the start of your relationship—keeping secrets is a recipe for a failed relationship, so if you have something important to say, just say it. Jeonghan is a great boyfriend. He gives you the freedom and privacy to do things you want to do, but this particular boundary was crystal clear, and you just crossed it.

It was your fault, really. You had broken up with Choi Seungcheol only a year prior to dating Jeonghan. The break-up had been a mutual agreement, and there were no hard feelings involved. Over time, you gradually drifted apart and had minimal to no contact until... well, two weeks ago. 

It had been at a dinner party hosted by one of your acquaintances, someone who just happened to be Seungcheol's cousin. Jeonghan hadn't been able to accompany you, so you hadn't been able to introduce him to Seungcheol. Meeting Seungcheol again after more than a year hadn't been awkward. It was like meeting up with an old friend. 

Tonight, however, the universe seems like it's conspiring against you. You had been preparing dinner when you heard a notification chime on your phone. You had haphazardly tossed your phone onto the living room couch before cooking, and your boyfriend just happened to be doing his Lego in the living room, so you called out to him to check the notification. 

There was shuffling in the living room as he stood. When he strolled into the kitchen, his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as he held your phone in one hand, eyes fixed on the screen. "Who's Choi Seungcheol and why is he asking to catch up over lunch?"

Fuck. 

To be fair, you really weren't expecting Seungcheol to contact you after the dinner party. You had gone without contacting each other for more than a year, so what changed now? You had told him that you found someone new, so he definitely knew there was no possibility of rekindling your relationship. He was most likely trying to be friendly, but you understand why it would seem questionable to Jeonghan. 

Contrary to what you expected, Jeonghan hadn't gotten angry at you. He simply listened to your explanation and nodded. He became quiet, a glazed look in his eyes that you couldn't interpret. Then, he sets your phone down on the kitchen counter and hummed. Oh, he was annoyed, that much was obvious. 

"Okay, well, I trust you. Just... don't do it again," Jeonghan spoke with a slight frown, then walked out of the kitchen as though you hadn't just violated the one, single rule that you had both agreed to abide by. 

Perhaps you've gone stupid, because as your boyfriend walked out of the kitchen, you found yourself trailing close behind him. A tinge of irritation slowly bubbled up in your chest as you watched him casually plop down onto the floor to continue doing the Lego set he had been doing since earlier. 

"Is that it?" you asked him. 

Jeonghan momentarily diverted his attention from his Lego to meet your gaze. He blinked a few times. "I'm sorry?"

"You just... you're not even getting angry at me?"

"Um, am I supposed to be angry at you?"

You were taken aback by his response because it suddenly occurred to you just how silly you sounded. Did you really want him to get angry at you?

"Yes?"

Jeonghan nodded wordlessly, seemingly mulling over something in his head. 

"I made a mistake, you should be mad at me."

There was a pregnant pause before he chuckled, but there was nothing humorous about it. If anything, it sounded a little... sinister. "You want me to get mad at you, baby? Want me to show you how I'm really feeling?"

You swallowed. Suddenly, you felt small under the weight of his unyielding stare. You shouldn't have nodded, shouldn't have ever said anything about it at all, because now, Jeonghan has you on the bed, doing the one thing you had practically begged him to do—take his anger out on you. 

"G-God, please..." You're not sure what it is you're begging for. It's hard to think straight when Jeonghan is between your legs, lapping at your dripping cunt with his tongue. He had warned you not to touch him, but after several attempts of burying your fingers into his silky hair, he decided to take matters into his own hand, grabbing both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them to your heaving chest. 

Your fingers continuously curl and uncurl against your chest, desperately trying to grab at something to ground yourself. The pleasure coursing through you makes your head spin, your mouth feeling as dry as cotton as you continue to chant your boyfriend's name. 

Jeonghan hums against you, mouth suckling at your swollen bundle of nerves. Your jaw drops open at the feeling, eyes screwing shut as you let a moan slip past your lips. He repeats the cycle a few more times—kissing, sucking, licking—until you feel the familiar knot tightening in your stomach. 

To your disappointment, Jeonghan withdraws his mouth from you but is quick to replace it with his fingers. He's familiar with your body by now, knowing what gives you the most pleasure and which spots to press to have you coming undone in minutes. 

He's rubbing tight circles into your clit with his thumb, middle and ring fingers ghosting over your hole, not dipping in, only lingering there to serve as a reminder of the control he has over you. "Keep your hands there," he says, squeezing at your wrists once as a warning. Then he lets go of your hands and settles his palm on the inside of your thigh, spreading you open further. 

"Jeonghan..." you whimper, legs beginning to shake as the telltale sign of your climax begins to show. 

"I need you to cum on my fingers once before you can have my cock," he says, voice coming out huskier than normal. 

Straining your neck, you peer down at your boyfriend with half-lidded eyes, only to feel a rush of heat in your stomach when you see that he's already looking at you. In the dim light of your bedside lamp, you can just make out his blown-out pupils, almost obscured beneath the strands of dark hair falling over his forehead. His lips curl up into a wicked smirk, and your focus shifts from his eyes to the way his mouth glistens with your wetness. It feels so shameful, but the sight only makes you drip even more. 

"My angel wants me to be angry at her, right?" he asks you, pressing down harder on your clit, which makes you yelp with surprise, head dropping back onto your pillow. 

"Don't stop, please, I'm cumming... F-Fuck!" It's all you manage to say as you begin to writhe under Jeonghan's hold.

He clicks his teeth in disapproval when you shift your hands from your chest to your sides, fingers tightly grabbing at the bedsheet, twisting at it recklessly. He lets it slide, however, knowing you're trying your best not to touch him like he knows you so desperately want to. 

His ring finger dips into your hole just slightly, and the stretch isn't much, but it makes you keen anyway, breath catching in your throat as he plunges it deeper and deeper until it reaches his knuckle. He doesn't move it after that, keeping it buried there as he continues to play with your clit. 

"I've barely even started and you're already like this," he says in a mocking tone, teasingly biting down at your plush thigh. "Go ahead and cum for me, then. Show me how much you want my cock, baby..."

Your body caves to his words. The knot in your stomach snaps, and you cum with a loud moan that you don't even attempt to hide. Without warning, Jeonghan promptly replaces his thumb on your clit with his mouth, sucking hard, prolonging the pleasure. He doesn't mind the way your whole body is trembling or the way your thighs try to snap shut. 

"H-Hannie, fuck... fuck..."

The way you're mumbling out incoherent words only makes the blood rush down to his cock. He's painfully hard in his pants, wanting nothing more than to sink himself right into your tight pussy. It's getting increasingly difficult to think with his head than his dick. His self-restraint is starting to fray at the edge. 

"That's it, baby..." he mumbles, removing his ring finger from inside you, grinning when your hole tries to suck the digit back in. 

With his index and middle finger, Jeonghan spreads your pussy lips apart, ignoring your whine of protest as he continues to stare at your soaked cunt. It's humiliating to be so exposed and vulnerable like this, but why do you enjoy it so much? 

Jeonghan snickers, warm breath hitting your bare pussy. "Baby, I wish you could see yourself right now. Your cute pussy is clenching around nothing."

With a sheepish whine, you splay your hands over your face, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Hannie..." you grumble, hoping he would show you some compassion and stop teasing. But of course, Yoon Jeonghan wouldn't just stop there. You should know better by now that there is no one in the world more cunning and sly than your boyfriend. 

Jeonghan pushes himself up into a sitting position, sighing when he sees the way you've covered your face. He doesn't like it when you hide from him but surprisingly doesn't say anything about it. 

When you feel him shift on the bed, your curiosity gets the best of you. Peering cautiously through the gaps of your fingers, you're left dumbfounded at the sight of your boyfriend tugging his shirt over his head. The wisps of his dark hair that had been snagged by the shirt are left askew, and the view would be endearing if it wasn't for the devious look in his eyes as he looks at you. 

Then he stands, and for a second, you're afraid he might leave you there. It wouldn't be unlike Jeonghan to suddenly leave. He's unpredictable, always trying to be a step ahead of everyone. This time, however, all he does is stand by the end of the bed, eyes roaming over your exposed figure as if trying to determine the next course of action that will deliver the most favourable outcome for him. Damn him and his mind games.

With slow movement, you press your legs together, concealing your most intimate part from your boyfriend. He shakes his head in disapproval, but you make no move to rectify your mistake. It's impossible not to hide from him when he's looking down at you as though he wants to devour you inch by inch—like a lion ogling at a wounded deer. 

Very slowly, he begins to undo the string of his sweatpants. It aggravates you to see how composed he is, movements unhurried as if he doesn't see just how much you need him. Surely he notices how your eyes rove over his bare torso, committing to memory every little detail about his body even if you've seen it myriad times before. He's not particularly muscular; he's more lean than anything, elegant, and refined in all the right places. It only makes the waiting feel even more agonising. 

"Don't tease, Hannie, please," you plead, your pulse quickening when he finally steps out of his pants. 

"Don't tease? Aw, princess, you were the one getting all friendly with your ex, and now you want me to treat you like a good girl who hasn't been whoring around behind my back?" His tone is condescending, sending a surge of electricity up your spine.  

You're suddenly reminded of what landed you in the current predicament in the first place. You want to explain and justify yourself, but you're rendered speechless when Jeonghan sweeps a hand down over his torso, eventually wrapping around his hard cock. He tugs once, twice, hissing slightly at the much-needed contact, smearing pre-cum all over the tip and shaft, the ring on his pinky glinting in the low light. 

Sitting upright, you're about to speak and deny his previous statement, but the words die down in your throat when he suddenly climbs onto the bed, slowly crawling closer to you.

You squeak in surprise when he grabs at one of your legs, tugging you down just slightly so that your face is parallel to his. Then, he settles himself between your legs, cock pressed against your stomach. He has you right where he wants you. 

Jeonghan captures your lips in a kiss, wasting no time to slip his tongue into your mouth, tangling it with yours. You sigh into his mouth, tasting the remnants of your wetness on his tongue and lips. It's a pleasant mix of bitter and sweet, a combination that makes you feel dazed despite the fact that he hasn't done anything to you yet. 

Jeonghan sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, relishing the way you mewl. He starts pressing wet kisses onto your jaw, trailing down to your neck and collarbone. "You smell so good, pretty," he mumbles against your skin, licking at your sternum. 

Reaching a hand down, you grab at his hard cock, wanting nothing more than for him to slip himself inside. You're sure you're dripping down onto the bedsheet by now. Jeonghan, however, has other plans. You only get to pump him twice before he slaps your hand away, pinning your wrist to the bed. "Don't act like such an impatient whore..."

Your whine of protest trails out into a moan when Jeonghan suddenly wraps his mouth around your nipple. His mouth is hot against the sensitive bud, and the light grazes of his teeth against it makes you arch your back. 

Jeonghan's eyes suddenly meet yours, hooded with lust. He's suckling so noisily, hips grinding into yours. It's so obscene—the way he's looking at you, the sounds he's making, the way his balls press down on your clit whenever he grinds into you. Feeling overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensory, you turn your head to the side, burying your face into your pillow as you huff out a shaky breath. 

You should've known Jeonghan wouldn't be too pleased with this. He withdraws his mouth from your chest with a lewd pop. His hand leaves your wrist in favour of grabbing at your chin. His grip is harsh, but not enough to hurt. With a sharp yank, he forces you to face forward, where you have no other choice than to meet his eyes. 

He clicks his tongue disappointedly, and your eyes flick down to his lips, red and puffy from sucking. This doesn't help your case at all, because Jeonghan immediately starts vigorously shaking your face left and right, compelling you to look back into his eyes. Your head feels dizzy, but you don't miss the look in his eyes. There's irritation swirling in them now, imbued with desire and the hunger to ravage your body until you're left a broken, muddled mess. It makes you shudder, legs squeezing tight on each side of his hips. 

"You know better than to hide from me, right?" His thumb caresses the skin of your jaw. The touch is so soft, a stark contrast to the way he's glaring down at you. When you take a little too long to answer, Jeonghan taps at your cheek a few times, hard enough for you to feel the sting. 

"Y-Yes..."

He coos, stroking your stinging cheek. "Mhm, but you're not behaving very well tonight, are you?"

"I've been good, Hannie," you assert, trying to maintain your composed front even though you desperately need him to fill you to the brim. You're aching, and you need his cock to soothe the pain. Noticing his sceptical gaze, you decide to reword your sentence. "I'm sorry. I'll be good, I promise."

Jeonghan is thinking about something, silently plotting something in his head. Fuck, you're screwed now. The intensity of his gaze tells you he's about to do something that's unlikely to be in your favour.

"You want to hide from me that bad, hm?"

You're quick to shake your head. "No, Hannie, I want you to see me."

Jeonghan scowls, pecking your lips once before sitting up on his knees. "On your stomach."

You frown, dread washing over you. He knows how much you loathe that position. "Jeonghan, please, no..."

Jeonghan's face remains impassive. "I won't ask you twice."

"You know I take a long time to cum when I can't see your face," you grumble, feeling your stomach churn, chest tightening. 

"Who said you were cumming tonight?"

The question sends you into a frenzy. "Please, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, please, please..."

When Jeonghan has his mind set on something, no amount of begging or grovelling will sway him. He's glowering at you, and three seconds pass before you relent. Having his cock inside you is better than nothing at all. 

"There you go, baby," he says when you finally shift onto your stomach. He's quick to straddle your thighs. "Wasn't so hard, was it?" 

You say nothing, feeling sulky now that you can't look at your boyfriend's pretty face anymore. "Angh!" you yelp when you feel a spank on your ass. Jeonghan does it a few more times, rubbing the tender skin between each hit. The touch should be soothing, but it only makes your ass burn even more, raw from his smacking.

Gritting your teeth from the tantalizing sting, you bite back an apology, knowing it's probably the last thing Jeonghan wants from you. Saying sorry would only make it worst for you. He's testing you, pushing the boundaries to see how much you can endure before you break and plead for some semblance of his kindness. The longer you hold out, the better. 

You feel him dip his head down, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale to breathe in your smell. The fragrance of your perfume and natural scent is exhilarating. He wants to stay there and breathe you in all day, fill his lungs with your sweet scent so that he can still smell you even when you're miles away from him. 

A groan rumbles in his chest, you can feel it on your upper back, can hear it right beside your ear. He starts pressing kisses down your shoulder blade, digging his teeth into the smooth flesh. 

"Keep your head down," he warns you, as though he knows about your urge to turn and look at him. He sits up, his knees on each side of your legs, willowy fingers kneading your hips. 

You whine into your pillow, eyes brimming with frustrated tears. Your whole body is trembling, yearning to see him, touch him, tug on the silken strands of his dark hair. God, just the thought of it has slick gushing out of your throbbing hole. 

"I'll be good," you promise him, voice coming out breathy, desperation bleeding through. "Just, please..." you beg, quietly moaning when you feel Jeonghan's hands on your inner thighs, spreading your legs just enough for him to comfortably press the tip of his leaking cock onto your cunt. 

You hear him chuckle when your whole body stiffens, anticipating the moment when he'll finally fuck you full. He sighs to himself, looking at the way your pussy is all coated in your wetness, slick gushing out onto his cockhead as he brushes it over your clit. 

"Hmm, but you only behave after you're caught doing something bad, isn't that right?"

You don't answer, unsure whether you should defend yourself or agree with his question. You gasp when you feel him slide in just slightly, stretching you out, tip prodding at your gummy walls just enough to make you feel the agonizing stretch. "More, Hannie," you mutter, practically drooling at the prospect that it would only take a roll of his hips for him to fill you up. 

However, the delicious stretch never comes, and you're left there feeling stupid, panting with only his tip buried inside of you. You whine once, lifting your head to look back at him. Big mistake. You've barely craned your neck before you feel his hand pushing down onto the crown of your head, fingers yanking at your mussed-up hair, shoving the side of your face back into the pillow. 

With a growl, Jeonghan leans down to press his lips against your ear. "What's with you today, princess? You've always been such a good girl for me, but you keep pushing my fucking buttons today. You want me angry, hm? Is that what you want?"

His crude words shouldn't make you feel the way you do, but when he speaks, his hot breath against your ear makes your eyes roll back, pussy clenching around the tip of his cock, desperate to suck more of him in. You respond with a quiet apology, voice quivering from the arousal wracking through your body. You crave him, ache for him like a desert thirsts for rain. "Need you..."

Then, as if he senses your distress, he decides to show you some mercy. Little by little, he slides into you, slipping in easily, aided by the wetness seeping out of your pulsating hole. He ignores the way you call out his name with a shattered gasp, slowly pressing forward until his hips are flush against your ass and his cock is snug in your heat, buried to the hilt. 

You can feel Jeonghan's groan rumbling in his chest, and the noise makes your pussy clamp down on him tighter. You're fisting at the bedsheet, feeling relieved, desperate, and frantic all at the same time. God, why isn't he moving? You want him to fuck you into the bed, want him to ruin you, use you until you can barely remember your name. 

Perhaps this is Jeonghan's way of taking his anger out on you—tormenting you until you're reduced to nothing but a sputtering, drooling wreck. Maybe he wants to see you plead, beg. Or maybe, he wants you to curse him out, chastise him, berate him for putting you through this torture.

Afraid of further repercussions, you decide to patiently wait, clenching your teeth to bite back from begging him to move. Seconds seem to drag on endlessly, and you resort to imagining the sight you'd be met with if you were to turn around. Would you see Jeonghan's face contorted into a mixture of frustration and hunger? Would his eyes be crazed and heated? Maybe he's enjoying the excruciating wait, peering down at you with an amused grin, tongue peeking out to rest against his lower lip just slightly. You're dying to know. 

Then, as if he is satisfied with your unwavering determination to remain still for him, he loosens his hold on your hair, gently brushing the dishevelled strands back. His thumb extends out to stroke at the tendrils of baby hair stuck to your temple, damp with perspiration. "You want me to move, baby?"

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you have half a mind to consider saying yes, but a nagging feeling tells you it might be a trick question. Jeonghan must've sensed your apprehension because you hear him chuckle. 

Without any warning, he draws his hips back, pulling out until only his tip remains inside before plunging in again. Your jaw slackens into a silent moan. The lack of stimulation has made your body feel so attuned to his, sensitive to every little movement. You feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, feel his breath on your neck, and the ridges of the veins on his cock against your pussy. 

"It's not a trick question, you know?"

You're quick to nod your head as best as you can. "Please move," you breathe out, feeling like you're on the verge of just turning around and demanding him to fuck you the way you both need it. 

His hand grapples onto the sheets by your head, delivering another thrust into your cunt. His movement is languid, as though he wants to take his time. It's driving you crazy, just how collected he seems compared to you. Your body feels as though it's burning, lit ablaze by his kisses, touches, and every single point of contact between his skin and yours. 

Your eyes zero in on his hand propped up on the bed, right in front of your eyes, honing in on the way the sheets bunch between his fingers and the way his ring sits snug on his pinky. Subconsciously, you reach out for it, fingertips digging into his knuckles, nails pinching into the skin when he thrusts again. The movement is more rushed this time, jostling you up on the bed just a little, which makes you gasp. 

He removes your hand from him, hurriedly pressing your palm into the bed, cradling your hand from behind, his fingers sliding through the spaces of yours to intertwine them. The gesture feels so intimate, and it leaves you feeling disoriented. "Fuck, Hannie, so good..."

Jeonghan chuckles, peppering kisses all over your bare shoulder, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake wherever his lips meet your skin. "I've barely even started, baby."

Jeonghan pushes himself up onto his knees, letting go of your hand to place both his hands on your hips. He doesn't miss the way you groan at the loss of his warmth on your back, but he dismisses it. He pushes in once, twice, his gaze fixed on the point where his cock keeps appearing and disappearing into your drenched cunt. 

You barely register it when Jeonghan hauls you up onto your hands and knees, lost in the thought of him, only comprehending the situation when he once again slides into your aching pussy. You make a strangled noise in the back of your throat, elbows buckling, almost sending your face flopping back into your pillow. 

Jeonghan doesn't feel the need to take it slow anymore. His thrusts are no longer feeble, and his pace is steady. The sound of skin meeting skin fills his ears, mixed with your broken moans. It sounds like an obscene euphony, a harmony that makes his head feel foggy and hazed.

 "Fuck, pretty, you're enjoying this, aren't you?" Jeonghan grunts, sneaking a glance down, only for his pace to falter when he sees the way your slick is coating your inner thighs. The view is so lewd, salacious, dirty, and messy. "My messy fucking baby," he mumbles, picking up his speed, eyes fluttering when he feels your walls tightening around him. 

"Jeonghan... Jeonghan..." You're chanting his name like a mantra, eyes pinched close, savouring the feeling of being pumped full. 

"Yeah... that's my name, baby," Jeonghan responds, restrain starting to slip, evident in the way his voice cracks just slightly at the last syllable. "Can you cum like this?"

You promptly shake your head. "N-No." It's not entirely a lie. You hate relying on your imagination like this. You want to be able to touch him, hold him, want to be able to look into his eyes as you let your orgasm crash down on you. You want to see the way his hair frames his pretty face, want to see his flushed cheeks and the sweat gathering at the dips of his collarbones. You want to see him, or you think you'll die on the spot.

"Good. Don't cum, princess." 

"W-What?" you squeak out. 

Jeonghan snorts out a laugh. "I told you before—you're not cumming tonight."

You gulp, stooping down low onto your elbow, too weak to support yourself up on your hands. "I wanna cum, H-Hannie... Please let me..."

Jeonghan only snickers, ramming into you harder, letting out a content sigh when your moans seem to escalate, becoming more wanton and desperate. You're squeezing him so tight, white ring of your milky slick forming a ring at the base of his cock, causing him to groan out loud. He'd like to think that he's in full control, but everything about you is making him feel delirious—your smell, your pussy, your moans. 

Ever the competitive man, Jeonghan feels like he's losing this game. He's supposed to be angry at you, but why does it feel like you have the upper hand? Feeling irked by this sudden revelation, he stretches a hand out, wrapping it around your neck. He hears the surprised gasp you let out when he pulls you upright into his chest. 

Your hands immediately fly up to circle around his wrist, taken aback by the sudden change of positions. His other arm slithers around your waist, keeping you balanced as he continues to fuck you from behind. "Fuck, Hannie, your cock feels so good," you can't help but murmur, arching your hips just slightly so he can reach deeper into you. 

He scoffs, burying his face into the crook of your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on the spot underneath your ear, strands of his hair tickling your skin. As he expects, your head lolls the other way, granting him better access to your neck. "Of course it feels good, baby. I've fucked you so many times your pussy is used to me now. Wouldn't be able to take another cock without thinking of mine, would you? Wouldn't feel so good if it wasn't my cock, right?"

His fingers dig into the sides of your neck, constricting just enough for you to gradually feel the drowsiness from the lack of air. It's intoxicating, being able to surrender yourself to another person completely, knowing they have you in the palm of their hand.

You're too preoccupied with the feeling of his hand around your throat to realise his other hand sneaking down to settle between your legs, middle and ring fingers starting to draw gentle circles into your bundle of nerves. It's almost too much—the way his cock slides in and out of you, the way his lips skim over your neck, the chokehold he has on you, the breathy groans he murmurs against your skin. 

"Unghh! F-Fuck, Jeonghan, 'm gonna cum..."

He chuckles, delighted at the turn of events. He doesn't stop the motion of his fingers against your clit and instead presses down harder, making your head roll back onto his shoulder, a throaty moan spilling past your lips into the open air. 

"Oh?" he says in a sardonic tone. "You said you couldn't cum like this. Or were you just lying to me, baby?" His mocking shouldn't have such power over you, but it makes your heart pound with the intensity of a raging storm.

"N-No, it's because you're... your fingers—"

"Hmm, what's with my fingers, angel?" 

The fingers on your clit start moving faster, motions rushed and relentless, bringing you to the verge of your climax quicker than you would ever anticipate. The sudden shift in speed makes you cry out in shock, eyes pinching shut. You're quick to bring a hand down to his wrist, tugging, trying to yank his hand away from between your legs. 

He doesn't relent, slapping your hand away and briefly resuming his assault on your aching bud. "Don't try to stop me now. I thought you wanted to cum."

"You told me not to," you rush out, heat starting to swell in your stomach, ready to burst. 

Jeonghan lets out a chortle. "That's right, baby. Ah, you listen so well..." Stretching his tongue out, he licks a broad path up your neck, stopping right underneath your jaw, where he proceeds to suck the skin. He wants to mark you, claim you. What better way than to bruise your pretty skin, right? To show everyone only a sliver of what goes on between you and him behind closed doors. 

"Oh, god, let me cum, please, please..." You have no other option than to resort to begging. Cumming without his consent would be catastrophic now. Not being able to see his face is punishment already to you, you're terrified of just how far he'd be willing to go to take his anger out on you.

Jeonghan presses the tip of his nose into the plushness of your cheek, humming as though he's weighing his options. "I don't think so, princess," he mumbles, the snap of his hips not once faltering, maintaining its hasty rhythm. "I don't think you deserve to cum."

You don't have much time left. Simple begging won't work now. You're wracking your brain for anything, anything. Forcing him to cum before you would be close to impossible, noting just how composed he seems. He's breathing hard, gravelly groans bubbling up in his chest, but he's nowhere near how wrecked you are.

Through your haze, you suddenly grow aware of the hand still draped over your throat. He's not pressing or squeezing, simply just letting his hand rest there as a means to keep you balanced on your knees as he fucks you open from behind. 

Sheer desperation makes you reach both hands up to claw at the hand on your neck. You're clinging onto the last threads of your rationality, knowing if Jeonghan puts even the slightest amount of pressure on his grip, all your sanity will go out the window, and you'd be hurled face-first into your much-awaited orgasm. You're playing with fire, you know it, but you only have one chance. 

"Unghh, f-fuck, please, choke me... I've been a bad girl, H-Hannie, choke me as punishment, and let me cum..."

You feel his mouth stretch into a grin against your cheek. Your walls are clenching around him so tight, pulsing, so hot and tight. He knows he has won. It's this notion of winning that has him thinking about giving in, but one look at your face has him reeling back his words. The furrow of your eyebrows, your slack jaw, your scarlet cheeks... it makes him feel sadistic. You wanted him to be angry at you anyway, what boyfriend would he be if he didn't give you any reason to make him angry? 

Then, Jeonghan watches. He tightens the hand around your neck, and continues his assault on your clit with the other, all while he continues to ram his dick into you again and again. You start to babble out incoherent words, and that's when he finally strikes. 

"Don't cum."

Those are the two simple words that send you dissolving into a whirl of pleasure and euphoria. Your ears feel like they're ringing as pure, white heat consumes you whole, moaning out your boyfriend's name repeatedly as you go rigid in his embrace. It's like shockwaves, rippling through you so forcibly you have no choice but to succumb to the raging tides, riding it out until you can fully apprehend the situation again. 

Gradually, you begin to notice the way Jeonghan holds you tight to him, how both his hands wrap around your waist to keep your body pressed to his, how his hips have stilled, hard cock still sheathed in your throbbing heat. He's pressing soft kisses onto your shoulder, coaxing you down from your high. 

Jeonghan lets your tired figure collapse onto the bed before sitting back and propping himself up on his heels. The sight is so endearing to him—you, still huffing breathlessly, hushed whines slipping past your lips at every exhale, so spent after only one orgasm. Jeonghan feels like it's so perverse of him to reach a hand down to stroke at his still-hard cock, touching himself to the sight of your curled figure. From this angle, he can see the mess between your thighs, remnants of your juices and his pre-cum smeared all over your puffy pussy lips. Oh, he definitely isn't done with you just yet. 

He hears you mumble his name groggily. Jeonghan's not sure whether you're calling out to him or just saying meaningless things in your post-orgasm haze. He doesn't waste time thinking, though, immediately swooping down to cage you between his arms, kissing along your hairline. "Tired already?"

Your eyes flutter open, looking up at your boyfriend who hovers above you with a smirk that makes your heart skip a beat. Fuck, you're really in for it. 

He coos at you, but it sounds sarcastic. "I told you to hold it, didn't I?"

You puff out a breath, shifting onto your back, obediently parting your legs so Jeonghan can slot himself in between them. "But your fingers—"

"Good girls don't talk back, do they, pretty?"

"N-No..."

He nods, eyes wandering downward, not trying to hide the way they zero in on your breasts. "No, they don't... But you're not a good girl, are you?" he asks, lowering himself to blow cool air onto your nipple, earning a choked gasp from you. Without any warning, he latches his mouth onto the skin at the top of your breast, sucking earnestly, not letting up until he's finally satisfied with the reddening of the skin there. He always loved to see the reddish hue of your hickeys turn into delicate shades of blue and purple as they heal. 

"I can be your good girl..."

"No, no, baby, you're a lying whore who doesn't do as they're told."

"Hannie, I asked you so many times—"

Jeonghan doesn't give you a chance to object, immediately slanting his lips over yours. He pushes his tongue past your spit-coated lips, exploring every crevice of your mouth, letting his tongue tangle with yours lasciviously. He feels you sigh against his mouth, hands coming up to curl around the nape of his neck. 

Reaching a hand down, he positions his cock over your entrance, plunging himself into your sopping pussy without any notice. It's easy to sink back into you—you're still sopping wet and stretched open from before.

Shocked, you break away from the kiss to let out a sharp cry, nails digging into his shoulders, threatening to break the skin there. "God, J-Jeonghan!"

He doesn't give you any time to adjust, quickly finding a rhythm that makes you arch your chest, pebbled nipples brushing against his front. You finally have the chance to look at him, really look at him. Fuck, you wouldn't trade this sight for anything else. He's the most beautiful thing you've ever had the privilege of seeing. 

He notices your lovestruck eyes, cock twitching inside you as he pounds into you. He thinks you're so pretty, all splayed out underneath him, so pliant, letting him do whatever he pleases with you. Your hair fans out over the pillow under your head, thin tendrils of it clinging onto your dewy temple and neck. He understands why you love to see his face so much whenever you fuck—he thinks he could cum earlier than anticipated if you keep looking at him with that infatuated gaze.

"Fuck, baby..." he curses, and it's the first time you've seen him lose his composure. "Fuck, you're such a pretty little thing..."

Your body sings at the compliment, shuddering, legs pressing into his sides, wanting to close shut but unable to. You're light-headed, still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but this feels too good to stop. With quivering hands, you slip your fingers through his hair, tugging and pulling carelessly. He's growing his hair out, so the length falls just shy of his shoulders, some strands curling over his neck like delicate tendrils of silk. 

Jeonghan's low groan pulls you out of your dazed thoughts. "Hannie..."

"Mhm, am I fucking you good, gorgeous? No one else can fuck you like I can, hm?"

You rake your nails across the nape of his neck, whimpering when he shifts just a little, hitching one of your legs up and hooking it around his slender waist. He thrusts a few more times, and his cock brushes against a spot that has you jolting, mewling as he grazes it repeatedly. 

"Oh? Right there?" Jeonghan noses at your cheekbone, listening to your gasps and whimpers, feeling his abdomen tighten at the obscene sounds you let out. 

"R-Right there..."

"That's it... You think Seungcheol can get you like this?"

At the mention of your ex's name, you whine loudly. A part of you hadn't expected Jeonghan to remember the earlier incident, but you should've known better. It seems stupid to think Yoon Jeonghan wouldn't remember an incident that occurred only an hour ago. 

"H-Hannie..."

"Hm, you gonna meet him for lunch? Gonna let him try to win you over? Gonna let him have what's mine?"

You shake your head, on the verge of sobbing, feeling your eyes fill with tears. "Wouldn't do that," you rasp. "I'm yours, Hannie..."

Jeonghan doesn't seem very convinced. "Yeah? You're mine?" he mutters against the apple of your cheek. His voice is low, any traces of anger or annoyance concealed. "You wanna say you're mine, with his contact still saved in your phone, baby? Don't be silly."

Your heel digs into Jeonghan's lower back, anchoring him to you as he continues to drill into you. "But I am yours—"

"Are you?"

"Y-Yes, always yours..." A hard thrust has you gasping, tears trickling down your temple, getting caught in your hair. 

Jeonghan's pace stutters, distracted by the way you blink up at him through your damp lashes. Tears gather at your lash line, and he can't help but want more. It's a sick thought, but Jeonghan doesn't care much. How could he care when he's balls deep inside of you, feeling like he's about to explode from the way your heat wraps around him so well? He wants to see you cry for him, sob, snivel, all because you can't get enough of his cock. He wants you to cum so hard you see stars and forget about everything but him, him, him. Choi Seungcheol will be the last thing on your mind. 

When Jeonghan lowers himself down onto his elbow, he seals his mouth to yours, kissing you fervently. It's a bruising kiss, teeth digging into lips, tongue rolling together in an alluring dance. After some time, Jeonghan reluctantly pulls back, taking a much-needed breath. He groans at the sight of your lips, all plump and damp with a mixture of his and your spit. "Fuck, baby... you're mine, aren't you?" 

 "Y-Yes, yes!" you babble, vision blurring as more tears fill your eyes. 

"You're gonna let me fill you up? Have your pussy dripping my cum for days so you don't forget who you belong to. You like the sound of that?"

"God, yes, yes..." 

Your thighs are starting to shake, Jeonghan can feel it on his hips. He brings his lips over yours again, not kissing you, just barely letting it brush over yours. He can feel every hot breath you release against his mouth. "Say his name, baby."

"Unghh... Hannie—" 

He snickers. "I said his name, not mine," he says darkly, pecking your lips once. 

You're confused and so goddamn frustrated. You're teetering on the precipice of your orgasm, and he wants to play mind games with you now? "No," you whine, shaking your head. 

"No? Why are you so scared?"

"F-Fuck, please!"

"I won't get mad at you for saying it, princess." His voice has dropped down an octave. It feels like it's seeping into your brain, turning it into mush. 

"C-Can't..." you murmur, drool gathering in your mouth the more Jeonghan splits you open. 

"You can't? Why? Scared you might cum if you say his name? Scared you'll think of him when you cum?"

Your eyes grow wide in alarm. "N-No! I wouldn't do that, oh god, f-fuck..."

"Then say it or you're not cumming," he threatens, grinding harder into you, angling his pelvis just slightly so that it brushes against your clit every time he thrusts in. He watches your eyes roll back, pleasure fogging up your brain. He feels your juices coat his pelvis, splashing over his lower abdomen. Whenever his cock dips in and out, the wet sounds resound throughout the room, and it makes him hiss. "Say it," he repeats, knowing he won't last much longer. 

You frantically shake your head, moans coming out stuttered. "N-No, please don't, I can't...Hannie—"

Jeonghan notes the way you're starting to sound distant. "Say it or I'm leaving you here to cum by yourself."

Your eyes meet his—frazzled, panicked, dazed. "Please, I can't!"

"You wanted me mad, right? This is it, princess. Show some gratitude and say his fucking name."

You're trying hard to read him, to possibly decipher his intentions, but it's so hard when you feel like you're on the verge of passing out from the onslaught of pleasure. You reach one hand down to rake at the skin of his lower back, earning a throaty groan from him, a sound that makes your skin prickle. Your other hand settles on his face, cupping his jaw softly, as if begging him. 

Your eyes roam over his face, taking in his exquisite beauty that always leaves you short of breath. His tousled hair hangs over his forehead, dangling in front of his eyes, dark like pools of obsidian, drawing you into their depth. There's a radiant flush that colours his cheeks, drawing your attention to the contour of his cheekbones and jaw, dusted lightly with sweat, highlighting the sharp features. Then his lips—so inviting and soft, parting with each breath. 

Jeonghan feels almost flattered under the weight of your affectionate stare. He briefly closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose, trying to pull himself together. He tries to push everything out of his mind—your delicious sounds, your intoxicating scent, your warm cunt around his cock. It's your sweet, quiet whine that pulls him out of his reverie. When he locks eyes with you again, he knows there's nothing he can do to delay his impending climax—not when you're looking up at him so tenderly, eyes fixated on him like a moth drawn to a mesmerizing flame.

"I c-cant... Don't make me say his name, p-please..."

Jeonghan swallows hard, one hand curving at the nape of your neck. With his grip he tilts your head up, letting your lips caress his. "Say my name, then. Say my name when you cum. Look at me and show me who you belong to..." 

You cum with a shout of Jeonghan's name, your whole body shaking at the sudden explosion. You squirm in your boyfriend's hold, toes curling over the back of his thighs as the pleasure ravages your whole body, surging through every nerve and every cell. It's numbing and so overwhelming at the same time, every inch of your skin humming with electricity, and every vein feeling like they've been set ablaze. For a moment, nothing else in the world matters except you and Jeonghan, entwined in each other as you lose yourself in the whirlwind of pleasure. 

"Fuck, fuck, should I fill you up, baby?" Jeonghan's voice quivers just slightly. 

The question sends another flood of ecstasy through you, cunt fluttering around his cock a second time. "Yes, yes—"

Your voice is like a siren's call to him, beckoning him, tempting him. Jeonghan is only a man, and he's not immune to a force as powerful as you. He sinks his teeth into your neck as he finally empties himself inside you with a drawn-out groan. Your tight cunt is pulsing so tightly around him, milking him, forcing every drop of cum to spill into you and coat your walls. A rather high-pitched whine escapes his lips as he slumps into you, hips flushed to yours, aching balls slick with the mixture of your release and his. 

You're panting heavily as you wrap your arms around Jeonghan, blinking up at the ceiling blearily, feeling filled to the brim with his cum still in you. Despite having the urge to clean yourself up and get rid of the stickiness between your legs, you lie there for another minute, feeling so content with Jeonghan's weight atop yours and his lips on your neck. Being with him is pure bliss. 

"Jeonghan," you say softly after some time, not wanting to ruin the peace and quiet.

He hums, rolling over to the side to lie on his back, letting his softening cock slip out of you. He pulls you into him with one arm, allowing you to settle half of your body on top of his. He lets out a pleased sigh, one hand grazing over your bare back, fingertips gliding down the dip of your spine. 

Placing a palm on his chest, you rest your chin on the back of your hand, gazing up at him tiredly. He seems to glow so prettily, eyes fluttered shut and a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Despite the heaviness of your eyelids, you gather your resolve, knowing that you still have something to clarify with him.

Without thinking too much, you mumble Jeonghan's name again and smile when his eyes flutter open to peer down at you drowsily. His free hand comes up to brush back the hair from your eyes. 

"I'm sorry for not letting you know," you mutter, the weight of your guilt just now settling in your heart. If you don't apologise now, the feeling might devour you whole. "I should've told you..."

The hand on your back ceases moving, palm splaying on your upper back, warm against your skin. "Baby, I wasn't really—you know—angry about it. I was a little stumped, sure, but... I trust you. I always trust you."

You shake your head, pulling yourself up slightly to look at him better. "You deserve to be angry. Jeonghan, you should be so angry at me. I should've told you as soon as I got home from that dinner party."

Jeonghan chuckles, much to your dismay. "Okay, then why didn't you?"

"I just... didn't think it was important. I felt like it wasn't anything worth telling you. It's not a good excuse, I know."

"Is Seungcheol important to you?"

Your eyes widen in disbelief, unable to fully grasp what you just heard. "What! No, of course not!"

"Then what's there to apologise about?" Jeonghan says with a snicker. "Did you kiss him at the party? Did he try to make any move on you? Did he seem interested in you?"

"No to all of those. I... I told him I already found someone else," you admit in a quiet voice. 

When Jeonghan smiles at you, it looks somewhat smug. "That's my girl... Besides, it wasn't his face that you were sitting on when you got back home from that party, was it?"

Appalled by Jeonghan's words, you bring your palm down on his chest, smacking him. "You're disgusting, Yoon Jeonghan."

He only laughs, eyes crinkling as he pulls you even closer. "Don't act like you don't love it."

You say nothing, only bringing your head down to rest it on his chest again. His heartbeat is strong against your ear, and his skin feels warm under your cheek. 

"So..." Jeonghan begins. "Round two in the shower?"

He doesn't have to ask twice—you're already off the bed and sauntering towards the bathroom. 

© sweetlemontart — all rights reserved.

[angelltheninth]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do The Hazbin Cast x Reader, where they and Reader are having a romantic moment to themselves, and before anything more could happen, suddenly something or someone ruins the moment?

See... I both hate and love this trope. It's funny as hell, but frustrating as hell too.

Pairing: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Adam, Vox, Valentino x Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, interrupted romantic moment, canon typical violence, blood, suggestive, date night

A/N: I would punch anyone who interrupts me. And I'm not a violent person. So uh... these characters have an effect on me lmao.

Charlie acts very calm unless either or both of you is in any state of undress. There’s no one more affectionate than her, displaying that in front of others is fine with her, she wants others to know of her love for you. It’s a different thing if it’s in a more intimate setting where she expected to have alone time with you. With a deep breath, some blushing and a groan she would try to get rid of distractions as soon as possible but at the same time. she would apologize to whoever interrupted you for shooing them away.

Vaggie has a blade at hand and it is promptly thrown next to the head of whoever interrupted you. Deep down she is a huge romantic and enjoys being romanced a lot, on the surface she is a badass fighter and she had an image to uphold with many people. There’s a lot of yelling and cursing, probably more than one threat of killing someone before she is back by your side, grumbling and murmuring to herself about forgetting to lock the damn door.

Alastor threatens to tear apart anyone who interrupts you, he puts that out as a warning because of how many times it’s happened in the past and he’s grown tired of being in a middle of a dance or cuddling and someone barging in wanting something. Usually he’s the one who walks in without knocking, now he’s getting to see how it feels. It doesn’t feel good, a full record scratch, even his shadow looks pissed off at even the slightest interruption.

Lucifer is in good spirits recently so even something as an interrupted date doesn’t get under his skin, if it was before it would have been a different story. Right now wile a little annoyed he can forgive and forget, after all no one saw anything too scandalous, although some would say that seeing the King of Hell in handcuffs is pretty scandalous by itself. As long as this doesn’t happen again it will be fine, although he knows you will tease him for it later.

Angel Dust obviously doesn’t mind it too much, on the surface at least, he is a porn star so getting watched is part of the job. That’s in the studio at least, at the Hotel he has the privacy he never had before, he likes it a lot actually, it’s almost too good to be true. Maybe he will occasionally flirt with or tease who ever interrupted you but in these four walls he is all yours and he won’t let the mood be spoiled by anyone, including his boss.

Husk groans and pulls your face close to his neck to help you hide your flushed face from the onlooker. How is this so perfectly timed, right when he wanted to take your clothes off and have a bit of fun with you someone just had to walk in. Well they’re really lucky he’s not as powerful as he once was otherwise they would be splattered all over the walls right now and would have to put themselves together while he makes out with you.

Sir Pentious hides his face behind his hat the moment someone enters his bedroom and sees you on top of him. Damn it, he told his Egg Boiz to make sure no one enters his bedroom, which also applies to them, until one of you steps out first, no matter what noises are heard from inside. As soon as you’re done and you think you’re gonna sleep he slithers out and starts working on plans for a new machine to make sure no one interrupts you ever again: a doorbell with a laser.

Adam yells at the person who interrupted the two of you because damn he’s been waiting the whole day to have you all to himself, all moody and pent up. This is his time with you, which means that no one gets to tell him he’s needed elsewhere before he’s done with you. He wraps you up with his wings if he sees you’re getting embaressed but really now, considering everything you do together getting watched shouldn’t be an issue.

Vox flinches when he gets a ping that someone’s crossed in front of his cameras which he set up just so no one catches the two of you in a compromising position. He sighs as he pulls away and covers you with a blanket, hiding your body from anyone’s view but his, which is funny because he has an insight into almost everyone else’s love life. For a demon like that he wants to keep his own affairs fairly private, at least the bedroom kind.

Valentino grins at the person who walks in on the two of you, he has zero shame regardless of your own level of shame he will brag about everything that happens and if someone sees it then even better. Besides he is the Overlord of the the porn industry, you knew things like this could happen when you began your relationship with him. He is so comfortable in fact that he will just keep going, kissing you occasionally to tell you that you’re doing a good job in front of a crowd.

[theonottsbxtch]

THE PRINCESS AND THE DRIVER PT.2| MV1

an: ahh i'm really enjoying writing this dynamic, although this isn't set in the victorian era. i am a SUCKER for historial romance so this feels very similiar.

wc: 5.5k

part one

Two nights later, under the cover of darkness, the princess found herself slipping through the quiet halls of the palace again. She knew Lukas had warned her not to sneak out, but the pull to return to the track was stronger than the caution in her mind. She missed the feeling of freedom, the wind against her face, and—though she hadn’t admitted it to herself fully yet—Max’s easy company. The memory of the last race, of his smile, of the way she’d felt like a completely different person, made her restless.

She had to go back.

The stable yard was silent, the smell of hay and leather heavy in the air. The familiar path to the hidden exit was just ahead, tucked behind the horses’ stalls. Her heart raced with excitement, and she moved quickly, eager to feel that surge of adrenaline again.

But as she reached the spot, her steps faltered.

The small gap in the stable wall—her secret exit—was blocked. Heavy wooden planks had been nailed across the opening, crisscrossing over the stones, sealing it shut.

Her stomach dropped. She stared at it in disbelief, her pulse quickening for all the wrong reasons now. She hadn’t been gone long—only two days—but someone had found out. Someone had noticed.

No... not someone.

As if summoned by her very thoughts, she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind her.

“Princess,” came a familiar, deep voice.

She turned slowly, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. The head of the royal guard, Commander Alfred, stood just a few feet away. His tall, imposing figure seemed to fill the space around them, his grey uniform stark against the soft, moonlit stable. His expression was calm, but there was a hardness in his eyes that made her stomach twist.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t try this again,” Alfred said, his voice low but firm.

Her mouth went dry. Her mind scrambled for something to say, an excuse, anything, but nothing came. Instead, she just stood there, frozen, caught like a child sneaking out past curfew. The thrill of the night evaporated, replaced by a cold dread settling into her bones.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on this exit for a few days now,” Alfred continued, stepping forward with measured, deliberate steps. “I saw you the other night. I didn’t say anything, hoping you wouldn’t make it a habit. But here you are.”

Her throat tightened. “I just... I needed some air,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Alfred studied her for a moment, his stern gaze softening ever so slightly. He let out a slow breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re a princess,” he said, his tone gentler now, but still unyielding. “The world outside these walls isn’t safe for you. There are risks you can’t see—people who would take advantage of you, who wouldn’t think twice about using your title against you. You can’t just... sneak out and pretend none of that matters.”

The weight of his words pressed down on her, heavier than her own guilt. She knew he was right. But that didn’t make it easier to swallow. All she had wanted was a few moments where she didn’t have to be the princess, where she could just be... herself. Not the heir, not the symbol of royal duty. Just a girl who liked racing karts and laughing with a stranger who didn’t know her name.

But now, even that small slice of freedom was being taken away.

“I’m sorry, Commander,” she murmured, her voice cracking slightly.

Alfred nodded once, his face unreadable. “Go back to your room, Your Highness,” he said, his tone final. “It’s late.”

She opened her mouth to protest, to say something, but the words stuck in her throat. There was no arguing with Alfred, not when he was right. Slowly, defeated, she turned and walked back toward the palace, her heart heavy with disappointment.

As she crossed the yard and disappeared into the dim halls of the palace, she felt the sting of tears building behind her eyes. She blinked them back, forcing herself to hold it together until she reached her room.

Once inside, the silence of her chambers was deafening. The weight of everything—the closed exit, Alfred’s disapproving words, the suffocating sense of responsibility—pressed down on her all at once.

She sank onto the edge of her bed, burying her face in her hands as the tears finally came.

She hadn’t realised just how much she needed that escape until it was taken away from her. The walls of the palace suddenly felt smaller, closing in on her, trapping her in a life she wasn’t sure she could keep living. The image of the boarded-up exit flashed in her mind, a cruel reminder that her freedom, however small, had been ripped away.

She curled up on her bed, pulling her knees to her chest as the sobs wracked through her. The palace, her family, the expectations—it all felt too heavy, too impossible to carry. She thought about Max, the thrill of the track, the brief joy she’d found in being someone else, and how, for a few short hours, it had made her feel alive again.

But now, that world seemed farther away than ever. Untouchable.

The tears kept coming, long after the moon had risen high in the sky. And when she finally stopped crying, the exhaustion weighed her down like a blanket, pulling her into a restless sleep.

For the next few days, she didn’t leave her room. She couldn’t bring herself to face anyone, not even Lukas, who she knew had done everything he could to protect her secret. She felt numb, lost in the overwhelming sense of disappointment that she couldn’t shake.

No one came to question her absence from meals or the usual royal duties. Maybe they thought she was unwell—sick with some quiet illness that kept her hidden away. In a way, she was.

Because now, more than ever, she felt like a prisoner in her own life.

Days had turned into a week, and she still hadn't left her room.

At first, her absence had gone unnoticed. It wasn’t uncommon for her to retreat after the long banquets, charity events, and royal meetings that often took up her time. The palace staff had simply assumed she was taking a break, maybe indulging in some much-needed rest.

But as the days dragged on, it became clear that something wasn’t right.

She barely ate. Meals delivered to her chambers sat untouched on the tray by her door. The curtains remained drawn tight, shutting out the warm autumn sunlight, and her once neat and orderly space had become a mess of discarded clothes and rumpled sheets. The sparkle that usually lit up her presence had dimmed, buried under a weight that no one could see but everyone felt.

Her ladies-in-waiting whispered among themselves, their voices low as they passed in the corridors. They traded worried glances, unsure of what to do. Should they call the Queen? Inform the King? She had never stayed hidden away like this before—not like this. Even when she needed space, she always re-emerged, ready to face her responsibilities. But now, the princess seemed... lost.

Her mother was the first to express concern openly.

One afternoon, as the palace staff hurried about preparing for a royal dinner, the Queen stopped one of her ladies-in-waiting in the hall. The Queen had always been poised and composed, but there was an unmistakable hint of worry in her sharp green eyes.

“How is she?” she asked, her voice tight, betraying more emotion than she intended.

The young woman fidgeted under the Queen’s gaze, lowering her head. “She’s been... resting, Your Majesty. But she hasn’t left her room in days. I don’t think she’s well.”

The Queen’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Has she spoken to anyone?”

“No, Your Majesty. She’s refused visitors.”

The Queen’s worry deepened. She had always been headstrong, independent. But this felt different. Something was wrong. And it wasn’t just the physical withdrawal—it was the silence. She had never shut herself off like this before, and the Queen couldn’t shake the sense that her daughter was sinking into something far deeper than exhaustion.

The next day the King himself stepped into her chambers, expecting to find his daughter reading or quietly working through whatever troubled her. But when he saw her lying on the bed, her back turned to the door, still wearing the same clothes from days ago, the sight struck him harder than he’d expected.

“Darling,” he said gently, stepping into the room.

She didn’t move. Didn’t acknowledge his presence.

The King’s brow furrowed. His daughter had always been the stronger one, the one who pushed through no matter the burden placed on her. But the stillness in the room, the absence of life in her usually vibrant eyes—it unsettled him.

He walked to her side, sitting down on the edge of her bed. For a long moment, he simply watched her, unsure of what to say. As King, he was used to fixing things, solving problems, and making decisions. But this... this felt like something he couldn’t fix with words or power.

“What’s wrong, my dear?” he asked softly. “Talk to me.”

She remained silent, her gaze fixed on the wall, eyes red-rimmed and empty. She didn’t trust herself to speak. If she opened her mouth, she was afraid she might fall apart completely, and that scared her more than anything.

The King sighed, reaching out to gently touch her hand. “You don’t have to do this alone, darling. Whatever it is, you can tell us. We’ll help.”

But she didn’t respond, her body tense under his touch. She didn’t know how to explain what she was feeling—the pressure, the emptiness, the suffocating weight of her title, her future, and everything in between. And the only escape she had found—the one place where she could breathe—had been taken from her.

The King remained by her side for a few more minutes, but eventually, he rose, his expression more worried than when he’d entered. He had hoped she would open up, give him some clue as to what was going on, but her silence spoke louder than any words could.

As he left the room, he quietly summoned Commander Alfred. The head of the royal guard appeared swiftly, his usual stoic expression in place. But even he couldn’t hide the concern that flickered in his eyes when the King spoke.

“Have you noticed anything unusual about the princess lately?” The King asked, his tone quiet but filled with authority.

Alfred’s jaw tightened. He knew precisely what was troubling her. He had been the one to stop her the night she tried to sneak out again. And though he had done his duty, he regretted the way it had crushed her. But now, standing before the King, he couldn’t very well admit he had allowed her escapades to go on unnoticed for so long.

“Your Majesty,” Alfred began carefully, “I believe the princess has been under a great deal of stress. It’s possible she’s... struggling with the weight of her responsibilities.”

The King frowned, frustration creeping into his expression. “We all have responsibilities, Alfred. But she has never shut down like this before. This is different.”

Alfred hesitated, his mind racing. Should he tell the King about the racing, about the brief moments of rebellion that had clearly meant so much to her? It wasn’t his place to reveal such things, especially when the princess had already been punished for it in her own way.

Instead, he simply nodded. “I will keep an eye on her, Your Majesty. But I believe she needs time.”

The King gave a short nod, though his unease was palpable. “Time. Yes. But not too much time. If this goes on any longer, we’ll have to intervene.”

That night the moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft glow over the palace grounds. Inside her room, the shadows loomed larger than life, stretching across the walls like silent sentinels. She lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, thoughts swirling like the dust motes dancing in the moonlight. She had tried to find solace in sleep, but each time she closed her eyes, her mind spiralled back to the karting track—the laughter, the thrill, the fleeting moments of freedom that now felt like a distant memory.

As the clock struck midnight, a soft creak broke the stillness of her room. She turned her head, heart racing. The door slowly opened, and Lukas slipped inside, his silhouette cutting through the darkness.

“Your Highness,” he whispered, urgency lacing his tone. “I know you’re awake.”

“What are you doing here?” she gasped, sitting up quickly. “You can’t be in here!”

Lukas held a finger to his lips, a mischievous grin breaking through the concern etched on his face. “Shhh! Just trust me. I need you to change. I brought something for you.”

He reached into the bag slung over his shoulder, pulling out a pair of dark jeans, a fitted black t-shirt, and a lightweight jacket. “You need to get out of here.”

Her heart pounded as she processed his words. “What? But Lukas, I can’t just—”

“Please, princess. You’ve been stuck in this room for too long. You need to breathe. Change quickly!” He urged, his tone more serious now.

Despite her hesitation, a flicker of hope ignited in her chest. She nodded, her resolve strengthening. “Alright,” she murmured, taking the clothes from him. “But you have to promise this is safe.”

“I promise,” he replied, his eyes gleaming with determination. “I’ll be right here.”

She hurried to the bathroom to change, her heart racing with anticipation and fear. The soft fabric felt foreign against her skin after days of wearing nothing but the same loungewear. She took a deep breath, catching her reflection in the mirror—her eyes still heavy with sleepless nights, but the spark of rebellion ignited within her once more.

When she emerged, Lukas was waiting, a grin on his face as he took in her new look. “You look ready for an adventure.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she breathed, feeling exhilarated yet terrified.

“Don’t worry. Just follow me.” He took her hand, leading her through the darkened corridors of the palace, down the stairs and into the depths of the guard quarters.

After what felt like an eternity of cautious footsteps and whispered exchanges, they reached a door that she had never noticed before. It was tucked away at the far end of the guard barracks, partially concealed by a thick tapestry.

Lukas turned to her, his expression serious. “This is a guard exit. It’ll take you out to the stables, but you need to move quickly. Once you’re outside, make your way to the track.”

Her heart raced at the thought of being outside the palace walls, free once again. “And you?”

“I’ll be keeping an eye on things from a distance. If you need anything, just call. But you have to promise me you’ll be careful. I can’t afford to let anyone know you’re gone.”

As he spoke, he reached into his bag and pulled out the helmet she had been gifted the last time she was at the track. “Here. Take this. It’s yours now.”

She stared at the helmet, a mixture of gratitude and exhilaration washing over her. “Thank you, Lukas. I can’t believe you’re doing this for me.”

He smiled softly, but there was an intensity in his gaze. “You deserve to feel free, princess. You deserve more than what this palace offers. Now go. Run.”

She stepped forward, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you,” she whispered, pulling him into a tight hug. The embrace was warm and reassuring, a promise of friendship and loyalty in a world where she often felt so alone.

Lukas held her for a moment longer, then gently pulled away. “I’ll be right here, watching you,” he promised.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped back and nodded. The door creaked open, revealing the moonlit stables beyond. She could feel the cool night air beckoning her, the thrill of adventure coursing through her veins.

With a final glance back at Lukas, she stepped through the door and into the night. The world outside felt alive, electric with possibilities. She sprinted toward the stables, adrenaline surging as she imagined the karting track waiting for her, the laughter of her new friends echoing in her mind.

As she reached the edge of the stables, she turned to look back one last time, seeing Lukas standing by the door, watching her with a proud smile.

Then she turned and ran, feeling like she was breaking free for the first time in ages. The track awaited, and with it, the promise of freedom.

Her heart raced as she sprinted down the familiar path leading to the karting track. The thrill of freedom surged through her with each stride, the cool night air whipping around her. She had longed for this moment, to feel the exhilaration of the track beneath her feet, the adrenaline that coursed through her veins as she raced.

But as she burst through the gates, her excitement faltered. The track felt eerily quiet, devoid of the laughter and energy that had once filled the air. The karts sat silently in their spots, the pit area dark and still, the bleachers looming like forgotten memories. Disappointment washed over her as she realised she might have come back to an empty space, a place that had felt so alive just days ago.

“Pity” she muttered, her voice echoing into the void.

Feeling the weight of solitude, she hesitated at the edge of the track. She had envisioned this moment—the thrill of the race, the rush of speed—but now it felt as though the universe had conspired to leave her alone once again.

Just as she turned to leave, something caught her eye. A figure sat cross-legged on the ground near the barrier, partially obscured by shadows. Curiosity piqued, she squinted, and her heart leapt when she recognized the silhouette.

“Max?” she called, the name tumbling from her lips as a rush of hope surged within her.

He looked up, surprise washing over his face, and in an instant, he stood up, a wide smile spreading across his features. “Angel!” he exclaimed, his voice a mix of excitement and disbelief.

Without thinking, she rushed toward him, her heart pounding in rhythm with her footsteps. The distance between them vanished in an instant as she barreled into him, relief and joy overwhelming her senses.

Max caught her in a warm embrace, and the world around them faded. “I can’t believe you came back! I thought maybe you weren’t going to,” he said, his voice warm and sincere as he held her tight.

“I missed it too much,” she admitted, pulling back to look into his eyes. “And I missed you.”

He stepped back slightly, his gaze searching hers, and there was a moment of stillness between them. The excitement of their connection lingered in the air, an unspoken understanding that made her heart flutter.

“I was here the whole time, waiting for you to show up again,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “You really know how to make an entrance.”

She laughed, feeling lighter than she had in days. “I almost didn’t make it. I was worried I’d be the only one here.”

Max shook his head, chuckling. “Nah, I couldn’t stay away either. This place is too good to abandon. Plus, I was hoping you’d come back. I wanted to see how you were doing after our last race.”

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” she replied, her heart swelling at the thought of their last adventure together. “It was one of the best nights of my life.”

“Same here,” he said, his expression softening. “It felt real, you know? Just us, no pressures, no expectations. I’ve missed having that, it’s been a long time.”

She felt her cheeks warm at his words. “I’ve missed that too. It’s hard to explain why. Everything in my life feels… complicated.”

He nodded, understanding glimmering in his eyes. “I get it. Sometimes you just want to escape from everything. That’s why I love coming here. It’s my little slice of freedom. I came here once a year with my mother and I come back each year.”

“It feels like no one cares who you are or what you’re supposed to be here.”

Max stepped back, his eyes playful. “So, you ready for another round? I’ve been practising, and I’m pretty sure I can beat you this time.”

“Is that a challenge?” she teased, feeling her competitive spirit ignite.

“Absolutely,” he replied, his smile wide. “But you’d better keep up.”

As they walked toward the karts, she couldn’t shake the feeling of exhilaration that buzzed through her. The emptiness she had felt moments ago faded, replaced by the warmth of their connection. Here, with Max, she was just a girl—not a princess, not a royal burdened by expectations.

They reached the karts, and Max gestured for her to take the lead. “You go first. I’ll watch you and see if I can learn a thing or two.”

Shr grinned, her nerves dissipating as she settled into the familiar seat of the kart. “Okay, but don’t blame me if I leave you in the dust!”

As she tightened the helmet over her head, Max’s laughter filled the air, and for the first time in what felt like ages, she felt free. The night stretched ahead of them, full of possibilities, and with a deep breath, she fired up the engine.

The engines fell silent as she and Max brought their karts to a stop, both panting from the thrill of the race. The air was thick with the scent of gasoline and the excitement that still hummed between them. As they climbed out of their karts, a shared laughter lingered in the air, buoyed by the adrenaline that coursed through their veins.

Max leaned against his kart, catching his breath, his eyes sparkling with exhilaration. “You really held your own out there,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “I thought I was going to lose for a moment.”

She smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “Well, don’t get too used to it. I’ll get better every time,” she replied playfully, wiping the sweat from her brow.

But as their laughter faded, the atmosphere shifted. The thrill of competition transformed into something deeper. Max’s gaze lingered on her, his expression softening as the playful banter shifted into a moment filled with unspoken understanding. They stepped closer, the warmth between them drawing them together, filling the space with a tension that felt electric.

Max brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek, and her breath hitched in her throat. In that moment, the world around them faded away—the empty track, the quiet night—everything became a distant blur. The only thing that mattered was the connection they shared, the desire that surged like wildfire between them.

“Schjate,” Max said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

Her heart raced at his words, and she felt a rush of emotions bubbling to the surface. “Me too,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “I couldn’t stop thinking about our last race.”

As their eyes locked, the air around them crackled with intensity. Without thinking, they moved closer together, their breaths mingling as Max leaned in, capturing her lips with his in a kiss that ignited the night.

It started softly, a gentle brush of lips that deepened as the world melted away around them. Her heart soared as she kissed him back, savouring the sweetness of the moment. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, as if he were afraid she might slip away. She melted against him, losing herself in the warmth of his embrace.

Their kiss was filled with a mix of exhilaration and longing, each moment stretching into eternity. Time seemed to pause as they lost themselves in each other, the warmth of his body grounding her in a way she had never experienced before. Every doubt, every fear faded into the background, leaving only the two of them in that electrifying moment.

But as they finally broke apart, a rush of reality crashed down on her. She stepped back, her heart racing, panic rising in her chest. “I shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Why?” Max asked, confusion clouding his eyes as he searched her face. “It felt right, didn’t it?”

She turned away, trying to catch her breath as her thoughts raced. “I can’t offer you anything,” she admitted, the weight of the words heavy on her tongue.

“Why not?” he pressed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. “What do you mean?”

“Because I can’t just… be with you like this,” she said, her chest tightening. “It’s complicated.”

His brow furrowed as he stepped closer, determination shining in his eyes. “What’s complicated about it? It’s just us here.”

“No, it’s not just us!” She exclaimed, her voice rising. “You don’t understand what I’m giving up.”

“What are you giving up?” he asked, his voice laced with hurt. “What do you think this is? I’m not just some guy to you.”

“No, you’re not,” she replied, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “But I can’t pretend that this is simple. I have responsibilities—things I can’t just ignore.”

Max’s expression shifted, disbelief etched on his face. “Responsibilities? What does that even mean?”

“It means I’m the princess of this country!” she blurted out, her heart racing as she revealed the truth she had kept hidden.

Silence fell between them, the weight of her confession hanging in the air. Max’s eyes widened, shock replacing the warmth that had just been there. “Wait… what?”

“I have a life I can’t escape from,” she said, her voice trembling. “I can’t be with someone when everything I do has consequences.”

Max took a step back, the hurt in his eyes cutting deeper than any blade. “So that’s it? You’re just going to run away because of some title?”

“No!” she cried, tears threatening to spill over. “I wish it were that easy. But I can’t risk everything for something that might not even be real!”

The tension crackled between them, pain and frustration hanging thick in the air. He shook his head, disbelief etched on his features. “So what that kiss was fake? An act of pity?”

“I don’t know what that was,” she admitted, her heart aching. “But I can’t let myself get lost in it. I have too much at stake.”

Max’s expression softened for a moment, but the hurt lingered. “And what if this is your chance to find something real?”

“I can’t take that chance!” she replied, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry, Max.”

With that, she watched as he turned away, the distance between them feeling insurmountable. Her heart shattered as she took in the sight of him walking away, the warmth of their moment fading into the night. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she realised the weight of her choice, the finality of what she had just done.

“Max,” she whispered, but the words were lost in the night.

As he disappeared into the shadows, she felt an unbearable ache in her chest, the reality of her world crashing down on her like a tidal wave. She turned away, her heart heavy, and made her way back to the palace, each step feeling like a loss.

The thrill of racing, the taste of freedom, and the warmth of connection had been swept away, leaving only a hollow ache where joy once resided. As she walked through the familiar halls of the palace, the burden of her title felt heavier than ever, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had lost something precious.

As she made her way back to the palace, the cool night air felt sharp against her skin, mirroring the ache in her chest. Each step felt heavier than the last, the thrill of her escape now replaced by a deep sense of loss. The weight of her reality bore down on her, and she could hardly breathe as tears streamed down her cheeks, each drop a cruel reminder of what had just happened.

The familiar silhouette of the palace loomed ahead, its grand façade illuminated softly in the moonlight. It had always felt like a sanctuary, but tonight it felt more like a prison, trapping her within its walls of expectation and duty. She quickened her pace, desperate to escape the memories of her time with Max, yet somehow knowing that they would haunt her no matter where she went.

As she approached the entrance, she spotted Lukas standing near the guard post, his usual stoic demeanour replaced by an expression of concern. The moment he saw her, his brow furrowed, and he stepped forward, instinctively sensing that something was terribly wrong.

“Princess?” he called, his voice low but urgent. “What happened? You look—”

Before he could finish, she crumpled, the weight of her emotions crashing over her like a wave. Without a word, she rushed into his arms, burying her face against his chest as sobs wracked her body. The warmth of his embrace felt like a lifeline, and she clung to him, desperately seeking solace.

Lukas stiffened for a moment, clearly taken aback, but then his arms encircled her, holding her close as she cried. “Princess, what’s wrong?” he murmured, his voice soothing as he stroked her hair gently. “Talk to me.”

She pulled back slightly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she looked up at him. “I—I can’t,” she stammered, struggling to catch her breath. “I messed everything up, Lukas.”

“Take your time,” he encouraged, his voice steady and calming. “Just breathe. You’re safe here.”

With a shuddering breath, she began to pour out the words that had been trapped inside her, the turmoil spilling forth like a dam breaking. “I went back to the track, and I saw Max,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “We raced again, and it was incredible. I felt so free, so alive. But then… we kissed, and it was everything I wanted, but I can’t have it. I can’t be with him.”

Lukas’s expression softened, and he held her tighter as she continued. “He thinks it’s real, but I can’t offer him anything, not with who I am. I’m a princess, and I have responsibilities. I can’t just run away and live a normal life.”

Lukas remained silent for a moment, absorbing her words. “Princess,” he finally said, his voice low and earnest, “you deserve to be happy. It’s okay to want something for yourself.”

“But what I want isn’t an option,” she replied, shaking her head, her tears still flowing. “I can’t put him in danger because of my title. I can’t risk my responsibilities for a fleeting moment of happiness. It’s not fair to him.”

“I understand that it feels complicated,” Lukas said, his tone gentle yet firm, “but you can’t sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of your duty. You deserve to feel loved and to have someone who cares about you.”

“I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But it’s all too much. I thought I could be someone else, even just for a little while, but I can’t escape who I am.”

He pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his expression earnest. “Princess, running away from your responsibilities won’t change who you are, but it doesn’t mean you can’t find moments of joy. You have the right to seek happiness, even in a world that tries to dictate how you should live.”

She met his gaze, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “But what if it all falls apart? What if I lose everything?”

“You won’t lose everything,” he reassured her, his grip tightening around her shoulders. “You have to take risks sometimes. You won’t know what could happen unless you allow yourself to find out.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for the first time that night, she felt a flicker of hope ignite within her, a small voice whispering that maybe there was a way to reconcile her desires with her duties.

“But what if I mess it up again?” she asked, her voice still shaky.

“Then you try again,” Lukas replied softly, a small smile breaking through the concern etched on his face. “You’re not alone in this. I’ll be here to help you navigate it. You can’t let fear dictate your life.”

As she looked into his eyes, she felt the bond of their years deepen. He had always been there, her steadfast protector, and tonight he was more than just a guard—he was a confidant.

“Thank you, Lukas,” she whispered, gratitude swelling in her heart. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he assured her, his tone lightening. “Now, let’s get you inside before anyone else sees you like this. You deserve a moment to breathe, away from everything.”

[fallingformatt]

FIRST GLANCE M.S. PT. 1

Matt x fem!reader

summary: while walking to the bar with your best friend you accidentally bump into Matt, then later you unexpectedly bump into him again, leading the two of you to do unholy things.

warnings: FILTHY ASS SMUTTT!!! unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, overstimulation, slight degradation, slight praising.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: Thank all of you so much for the love on the last post, as I started writing literally so recently it means a lot to me. Also these scenarios keep popping up in my head and I write them down immediately and just work on them till I’m finished, so yea Im posting three days in a row. THIS IS SO GOOD DOE, not proofread.

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"But I have nothing to wear," I whine as I plop down on my best friend's bed. She really wanted us to go out to this cute bar she found on TikTok.

"Wait, I have something in my closet perfect for you," she said excitedly, pulling out a black mini dress. "It's just a black mini dress, what so special about it?" I ask with a confused look plastered on my face. "It's not the dress that's perfect," she says as she starts to dig around her closet again. "It's what you're going to wear with it," she exclaims.

"Found it," she says and excitement can be heard in her voice. She pulls out a box that has 'GUCCI' written on it. She pulls off the lid and there are a pair of tights in there. "Oh those are really pretty," I say as she opens the packaging for the first time. "That's not the end of it," she says swiftly turning around as she gets on her tippy toes to reach the highest shelf of her closet.

She manages to reach and pull out this little, red shoulder bag that screams money. "See it's not always about what you're wearing, sometimes it's about how you accessorize," she says happily clapping her hands together.

We both do our makeup and our hair while listening to music, chitchatting, and drinking some wine. As I finish my makeup and hair I get up to put on the outfit my best friend picked out for me. "Be careful with the tights, don't ruin them," she turns her head and says. "Don't worry, I won't, thank you for the cute outfit," I answer. "Glad to get you out of the house," she says as she also stands up finished with her makeup, and takes her clothes to change into.

We both step out of the house, ready to go to the bar, enjoy a few drinks, and maybe take some cute pictures for Instagram.

The city is lively, people walking down the streets, the sun almost gone, as the streets get darker. A bit tipsy from the wine we had, we walked, headed to the bar as it's not far from her place, our elbows intertwined as we continue to talk about everything that comes to our minds occasionally letting out a small laugh when one of us tells a joke.

My head is turned to my friend as she's retelling the story about her most stupid hookup, and I can't stop laughing. One moment I'm laughing about my friend's story and the next I feel myself trip over a pebble as I lose my balance. My body doesn't meet the ground, instead, it meets someone's chest. I quickly lean back to stand on my own feet again. I look up and my eyes meet the most beautiful guy I've ever seen. I look at him as I study his features, the fluffy hair, the silver earrings, his light stubble, and finally my eyes meet his, his icy blue eyes I could drown in.

I snap back to reality as I hear his voice "You okay there?" he says, his voice just as attractive as his looks. "Yeah sorry," I say as my friend pulls me to her. "Come on let's go," she says still holding onto my elbow and we walk past this beautiful stranger. As we're walking, I turn my head back to look at him and our eyes meet for the last time as we walk further away from each other, both walking in opposite directions.

We get to the bar and order some drinks, we sit down and look around. The bar really is cute, the ceiling is covered in flowers giving the place a fairytale vibe. I look to my side and notice this huge mirror that's covered in pink bows. "We have to take a picture there," I say as my eyes light up.

We're now 3 drinks into the evening and the guy from earlier crosses my mind. His face, his voice, his eyes. I could imagine him in between my legs as he eats me out giving me pleasure out of this world.

"Hello, are you listening to me?" my friend asks as she waves her hand in front of my face. I snap back to reality and look at her. "Did you hear anything I just said?" She asks. "You cockblocked me," I say furrowing my brows. "What do you mean?" She asks confused. "The guy I bumped into, he was totally into me," I say confidently. "Oh come on, that interaction lasted 2 seconds," she said laughing. "It was enough to make me understand that I need to be dicked down tonight," I answer. "Do you want to go to the club?" She asks. I nod my head happily. We finish our drinks and head out.

We walked around 5 minutes before we were in front of the club's door. Loud music can be heard as we walk in, lights shooting and changing color as we walk deeper into the club. My friend takes my hand as she pulls me into the dance floor. "This is my song," she exclaims as we both start dancing.

Feeling the light buzz the alcohol gave me, I close my eyes and move my hips to the rhythm of the song. I put up my hands as I get lost in the song dancing my heart out.

When the song finishes and I open my eyes, my best friend is nowhere to be seen. I try to move past all the people on the dance floor in an attempt to look for her.

As I walk towards the bar, I feel my ass brush against someone trying to get past the crowd. I turn around and look up. My eyes widen, not believing who I'm looking at.

It's the guy from earlier, the one who broke my trip and didn't let me fall to the ground. His eyes meet mine as a lustful smile appears on my lips.

"You really like to touch me don't you," the pretty boy says. "What are you doing here?" I ask. "Well, what do people usually do at the club?" He answers my question with a rhetorical question.

"Thanks for not letting me fall earlier," I say as I brush his chest over the place I bumped into. "You have to be more careful, watch where you're stepping, it could've been a stinky homeless guy, instead of me that you bumped into, I'm Matt by the way," he says, his charming voice making my knees weak.

"You wanna go dance?" I ask him, and without hesitation, he takes my hand and pulls me into the crowd at the dance floor.

We dance in sync as Matt's hands are placed on my hips guiding them side to side as my ass is brushing against his jeans, my one hand bent backward wrapped around the nape of his head.

I feel myself getting wet as I feel his hands starting to roam around my body, touching me in all the right places. I begin to grind my ass against his crotch feeling his dick getting hard as he lets out a hot breath in my ear.

Now one of his hands has traveled to my inner thigh as the other one keeps resting on my hip slowly guiding it up and down his hard, clothed cock. He sneaks his hand under my short dress, moving closer to my heat. His thumb starts to move in circles on my clit as his ring and middle finger move up and down over my clothed folds. I let out a moan as the pleasurable sensation entered my body. I throw back my head resting it on Matt's shoulder.

I feel Matt's hand suddenly stop, as he spins me around. "Follow me," he says when he leaned in closer to my ear so I'd be able to hear him over the loud music. His voice was dark, filled with lust.

Matt took my wrist and quickly led me to the bathrooms, he approached a door with a 'staff only' sign on it. When he pulled the handle I thought it would be locked, but it wasn't. We went in and it was as dim almost as the nightclub itself only a few colored lights giving the bathroom enough light to see where everything was. It was a big one toilet bathroom though, but it's still weird that the staff would have to do their business practically in the dark.

I snap out of my thoughts as I hear Matt closing the door behind him and turning the lock. He looked at me, his icy blue eyes were now dark, filled with hunger. He takes my hand and pulls me close, smashing his lips onto mine and his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth. His hands travel around my body stopping at my ass, he grabs hard on it.

Without breaking the kiss he lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. I let out a moan feeling the cold buckle of his belt against my heat. He walks over to the counter where the sink is located and sits me down.

He breaks the kiss and looks me in my eyes, slowly kneeling down. His head is now on one level with my throbbing pussy. "Please," is all I manage to blur out.

I feel his cold fingertips trace along my thigh as he stops at my core, rubbing circles on my clit and I let out a loud moan. With one sharp movement, I hear the tights rip making me feel the cold countertop on my bare skin as the tights now have huge runs in them.

Matt's hands guide my legs on top of his shoulders, he pulls me closer giving him better access to my pussy, making me lean against the mirror that was on the wall behind the counter. I let out a whine as I felt two of his cold fingers moving my thong to the side now giving him full access to my dripping hole.

Matt looks up at me before moving closer, placing a trail of kisses from my thigh to my sensitive bud, causing my fingers to intertwine with his fluffy hair. He sticks out his tongue and starts licking circles around my clit. I roll my eyes to the back of my head. I feel his cold fingers pressing against my pussy, teasing me. "I need you," I manage to whimper under my breath and without any hesitation I feel his fingers push deep inside me, his cold rings pressed outside of my pussy.

I moan out loudly as his tongue and his fingers move in a rhythm giving me unimaginable pleasure. His fingers curled inside of me, places so deep I could never reach them on my own, his other hand holding a tight grip on my thigh. I feel a knot forming in my stomach. "Cl- close," I whimper out not able to say anything else.

His fingers slide out of my pussy and his tongue replaces them. Curling his tongue in my hole, I gasp out of the intense pleasure, Matt's now free hand traveling to my other thigh, holding on to it.

My sloppy moans fill the room as the pleasure is too much for me and I can't find the room to take in a full breath. "I'm about to cum," I moan out. He hums against my pussy, his tongue still in me curling inside of me. His voice sending vibrations through my core is enough for me to reach my climax. I let out a loud moan as I tug on his hair hard, bucking up my hips and rinding out my high.

Matt continues to move his tongue inside of me making my legs shake as the overstimulation rushes over me. My moans turn into loud pants, trying to catch my breath. My legs shake uncontrollably as his movements don't stop and he continues to curl his tongue, moving it in and out of me.

I try to move my legs, but Matt tightens his grip around my thighs, his short nails digging into my skin as I let out a hiss. I feel another orgasm coming, legs still shaking. "Don- pl- don't sto-" I try to speak in between my attempts to get some air in my lungs. I feel my vision getting blurry as I feel tears forming in my eyes from the intense pleasure.

My eyes roll to the back of my head as I feel Matt's thumb drawing circles on my clit. This is enough to send me over the edge and I squeeze Matt's head in between my shaking thighs as I cum for the second time.

I ride out my high and Matt stands up, his lips shining a bright red color. "You taste so sweet, I could eat you out all night," he says before kissing me and pulling on my bottom lip with his teeth.

"Get down," he says and yanks me by my wrists. As my feet meet the floor, I instantly lose balance as I'm not able to hold myself up on my own, still unable to fully breathe. Matt catches me, quickly turning me, my back facing him, and bending me over, pushing me against the counter.

I hear him unbuckling his belt before his pants fall to the ground. I look back at him and see him pulling down his boxers. He pushes my dress up revealing my almost bare ass as the only thing covering it is tights with huge runs and now holes in them.

I feel a sting as Matt slaps my ass making me moan out in pleasure. He pulls my thong to the side and without any warning he grabs my ass lifting it up before pushing his dick deeply inside of me, immediately kissing my g-spot on the first thrust. I let out a loud pornographic moan.

"Shit you feel so good around my cock baby," Matt moans, one of his hands placed on my lower back, the other traveled to my hair, weaving his hand around them to make a ponytail.

As he continues to plant deep, hard thrusts in me, he yanks my hair causing my head to tilt back, he leans in and places a kiss on my lips as his other hand now firmly holds onto my jaw.

"You're such a good girl for me, fuck," Matt growls breaking the contact between our lips, throwing his head back as his mouth falls open, his chest unevenly rising up and down.

Both of our heavy pants and moans are now filling the room. "Ahh fuck princess, you feel so tight, I'm about to cum," Matt moans out. My walls clench around his twitching cock as I also feel my orgasm coming, I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, just a high-pitched whimper.

"Look at you, you're so pathetic, can't even say anything, I have fucked you dumb," he says and I hear how smug his voice is.

Matt thrusts a few more times before I feel my orgasm taking over me, and my legs again begin to shake. "Oh fuck," Matt moans out as he thrusts deeply painting my walls with his cum. He lets go of my hair as he pats my head "You're such a good girl," Matt says.

Matt pulls out his cock and pulls the dress over my ass pulling up his boxers and his jeans. I try to stand up feeling dizzy and lightheaded from the slightest movement. I lose my balance and Matt catches me once again. "Awww, I have really done a number on you, haven't I?" He asks teasingly, I just nod as I don't have the strength to answer.

Matt leads me to sit down on the toilet before he returns to the sink, and wets his hands under the cold, running water. He walks over to me and places one of his wet, cold hands at the nape of my neck and the other one on my cheek to help me come back to my senses.

We stand there like that for a while before he wipes the mascara that had run down my cheeks with his wet thumb while looking down at me giving me a warm smile, leaning down, and pressing a kiss on my forehead.

"How you feeling?" he asks innocently as if he didn't just fuck my brains out. "Better, I think I'm ready to go," I say as I stand up. We head to the door and I lead the way, unlocking the door we go out.

I see my best friend, she notices me too and rushes over, "What happened, where were you, I was searching all over for you!" she exclaims with a worried but angry voice as she looks me up and down. "What did you do to my tights?" Her eyes widen. "I got revenge on you for cockblocking me," I say as I smile. "Oh looks like we've got a brat on our hands," Matt says as he chuckles, leaning in, his hand on my hip, holding me tight, so I don't lose support.

"Bump into me again sometime," Matt says as a small smirk creeps on his lips.

[candycandy00]

Imagine you’ve had a crush on Umemiya for two years now, but he only sees you as a friend. He’s really nice to you, but he has no idea you like him that way and so it never occurs to him to see you in a romantic or sexual light. 

One day he and Hiragi run into you in town and after speaking to them for a few minutes, you walk off. Hiragi sighs and says, “I feel sorry for her, having a crush on a clueless guy like you.”

Ume is shocked. “Wait, what?”

After learning this, he starts paying more attention to you, watching more closely how you behave around him compared to other people. You giggle more around him, tuck strands of hair behind your ear, smile more, seem a little shy and self conscious when he’s in the room. 

For the past few years, Ume has been running a little summer camp in the woods for the kids in town, and this year he asks if you’d like to come with him and his friends to help get the camp cleaned up and ready for the kids. It’s a good chance to spend some time with you, and you happily accept. 

Once you’re there and the preparations start, it seems like everything you do turns him on without you even realizing it. 

First it was you sitting in the floor of the common room, polishing an end table. You had the table upside down while you used a rag to clean the legs. Ume watched your small, delicate hand gliding up and down the thick round table legs, a blush creeping onto his face. 

Next it was you going into the woods to gather some sticks to use for the nightly camp fire. He followed a few minutes later to help, only to find you repeatedly bending over to pick up sticks, your denim shorts riding up, your plump, juicy ass in the air. The way you got all flustered and nervous when you noticed him behind you was just too cute. 

A day later you passed out popsicles to all the volunteers, then sat down on some wooden steps a few feet away from Ume. He watched, positively transfixed, as you licked and sucked on your popsicle, his eyes glued to your mouth as he imagined you doing that to his cock instead of your frozen cherry treat. 

That night he was finishing up some chores and walking back to his cabin when he heard singing. Following the sound to your cabin, he peeked in the window out of curiosity. He found you dancing around the room in nothing but a short T-shirt and panties, singing along with the music blaring from your phone. You looked so sweet and adorable, but mostly you just looked hot as fuck as your tits bounced against the thin fabric of your shirt. 

By the time you work up the courage to confess your feelings on the last night before the kids arrive, he’s so ready to bend you over the nearest table and fuck your brains out that he thinks he might explode. 

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

141 + König Where Reader Surprises Them With Tik Tok Leggings

Based on a request from anon- I accidentally posted this from my queue, and I wasn't finished yet🥲

Warnings: swearing, spanking, mild sex references

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon Ghost Riley-

You and Simon were headed to the gym for the first time this week, and you thought this was the perfect opportunity to show off the new leggings you bought off of Tik Tok.

Simon held open the door for you, and you made it a point to walk just far enough in front of him, for him to get a glimpse of the pants.

"Those new?" Simon asked, eyeing up your legs for the first time since you put them on.

"Oh yeah, heard about them on Tik Tok. I thought I'd give them a try." You gave him a warm smile before taking off your jacket and hanging it on the treadmill.

Simon's jaw fell slack as he was now able to see fully how the leggings accentuated your backside. "Uh uh, absolutely not."

"What's wrong with them?" You asked, stifling a giggle.

"What's wrong with them? Absolutely nothing, other than the fact that every man, woman, and child will be staring at my wife's ass. An ass, mind you, that's mine and mine alone to look at." He looked around the gym to find, in fact, there were people already looking at you as you climbed on the treadmill.

You were beyond amused at your husband's antics, as it wasn't often you were able to get him riled up. "Si, nobody will look."

"Damn right, nobody will look." He huffed in frustration.

You looked back to retort and couldn't help the laugh that escaped your lips when you saw Simon standing guard in front of the treadmill, blocking you from anyone's line of sight.

"My hero." You giggled. "Do you at least like them?"

"Yeah I fuckin' like em." He grunted, clearly upset that he had to share this view with anyone else.

Needless to say, he followed closely behind you the rest of the time you two were at the gym that night.

König-

Poor König. He'd just sat down for a peaceful breakfast and was munching on his bowl of cereal while reading the morning paper when you'd strolled in.

You'd just recently bought those viral tik tok leggings that made your backside more prominent, and you were beyond excited to gauge his reaction to them.

You strolled over to the fridge, making a show of bending down to allow König a full view of your ass.

He glanced up from his paper with a mouthful of cereal when his eyes fell on the leggings. His jaw dropped, sending the contents in his mouth pouring out on the table.

"Good morning, Kö!" You exclaimed cheerfully, whipping around to find his mouth still wide open. "Shouldn't chew with your mouth open. It's not polite."

"M-Morning M-Maus." He stuttered, finally regaining his composure. "Those are...nice."

"You think?" You asked, struggling to keep a straight face.

He nodded his head feverishly, causing you to let out the giggle you'd been holding in.

You walked over to him and grabbed his cheeks playfully before placing a firm kiss on his lips. He pulled away a moment later, his cheeks burning red.

"Could you...could you maybe turn around again?"

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

The minute you saw the tik toks, you knew you had to buy the trending leggings. Your bum had never been the biggest out there, but you'd be lying if you said these leggings didn't make it look like twice its size.

You walked past your boyfriend, who was peacefully watching his show on the couch, playfully swaying your hips as you pretended to dust the TV stand.

"Steamin jesus." Johnny called out as his eyes landed on your ass. "What in the bloody hell are those?"

"Oh, these? Just some leggings I got." You shrugged your shoulders in feigned ignorance as you continued to wipe away the invisible specks of dust.

"Come here. I need to inspect them closer." He waived you over, and you obliged with a soft chuckle.

He placed his hands on either side of your waist and positioned you so your ass was directly in front of his face.

You felt his hands grab at your ass, massaging the flesh there roughly. "Yep, it's confirmed."

"What's confirmed?" You asked in reply.

"That these pants make your ass look fucking amazing, lass." Johnny said as he shifted uncomfortably on the couch. His cock began to strain in his pants the longer he looked at you. "You don't know what they're doing to me."

"Why don't you show me?" You teased.

Johnny stood the second your words left your mouth and threw you over his shoulder, landing a playful smack to your ass. "Oh, I plan to."

John Price-

"Y/N, love, have you seen my..." John stopped dead in his tracks as he took in the glorious sight in front of him. There you were, in your brand new tik tok leggings, your ass looking more voluptuous than usual.

"Your phone? It's on the couch where you left it." You called over your shoulder as you continued to empty the dryer.

He let out a low whistle as he sauntered up to you, landing a firm slap to your ass. He felt his cock hardening in his pants as he watched the flesh jiggle from the impact.

"Forget the phone." His voice was laced with lust, and his eyes didn't leave your backside. "You look delectable."

"Like my new leggings? Got them just for you." You turned once more to throw your husband a sly smile.

"For me, huh? Trying to get my attention, are we?" He asked, pulling your frame against him. You could feel the prominent buldge of his hard on pressing into the small of your back. "It's working."

"Yeah? Figured you may like them." You moaned as he began to press soft kisses to the side of your throat.

"Oh sweetheart, I love em." He said before getting to his knees in front of you.

You braced yourself against the dryer as you felt John tug at your pants, pulling them clean off you in one fluid motion.

You could hear him chuckle darkly behind you. "Shame, think I ripped 'em. I'll have to buy you a new pair."

"DAAAAAMMMNNNNN!" His voice rang out from the kitchen entryway as he immediately caught sight of your leggings.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

"Babe, I'm home!" Kyle called as he walked through the front door.

"In the kitchen!" You yelled back, unable to control the grin that formed on your lips. You'd just gotten the pair of tik tok leggings you'd been waiting for in the mail today, and were beyond excited for your boyfriend to see them.

"What?" You giggled, watching him practically sprint over to you.

"Those look amazing on you, holy shit babe." Kyle said, bending down to get a better look at your backside. "Go on, give me a spin."

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled from your chest, as you did as he asked, giving him a slow spin. "You like?"

"Oh babe, I love them. You'd be lucky if I ever let you take them off." The smile that lit Kyle's face was contagious.

"Shame, I was wondering if you wanted to come shower with me." You bit your lip and let your eyes rake his figure before slowly making your way to your shared bathroom.

Kyle quickly ran over to you and pulled your backside against his crotch. "Hmm, we might just have to see if these are waterproof then, won't we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[spacebaby1]

Rindou Haitani's Girlfriend

Ran might get himself a girl that matches his freak on napping for 11 hours, but Rindou will absolutely get the humorous girlfriend.

The first time he met you was in 🎀police station 🎀he was 12 and had just gotten arrested with his brother Ran, who was 13 then. You sat with the handcuffs on, kicking your feet looking around and being so calm it made him question how the hell were you so calm. You just turned 12, and it was a day before your birthday party. The moment you noticed the as the police officer let him and ran sit on one of the chairs opposite from you, you waved at him with a smile. The officer went to write the report, and you got up from your chair and walked to sit next to them. "Nice hair!" You told Ran, "That's not a wig, right?" Ran laughed, shaking his head, and Rin rolled his eyes at you. "Why are a kid like you doing here?" Rin asked, "Oh, I just wanted to know how handcuffs feel like that's why I busted the cops car window to get arrested." You said with a smile, "No shit, are you crazy?" Ran laughed. "Aren't you too little to be arrested?" Rin asked, and you shrugged, "I'm twelve, I'm actually twelve tomorrow and I'm having a birthday party, hey, wanna come to my birthday party?" You told Rin with a soft smile. He felt his cheeks burn, and then you turned to look at Ran, "if you want, I'll write you the address." Ran just laughed, "you're one crazy girl. Happy birthday, by the way." Rin sighed, "Happy birthday, whatever." You laughed, "Aww, thank you, I'm Y/n!" Ran turned his side to face you now because he thought you were interesting, "I'm Ran, and this is Rindou. My baby brother." You smiled in an aww. That was the last time Rin saw you.

Five years later; he saw you again. Rin had just gotten some serious job done and was heading back home, walking under the cold nights with snow all over the streets. His eyes on his phone screen; reading an email Ran sent him when someone sprinted past him. He didn't bother to look until he heard the footsteps stop, and someone called out his name, made him almost jump. "RINRIN?" He turned back ready to attack whoever called him with hands in front of him and his heart almost stopped when he saw a girl, no, he saw you waving as you ran towards him happily? You caught your breath as you stopped in front of him, titling your head to side, "it's me! Y/n! Remember me the girl from the police station? Oh, that's funny to say." He blinked a few times before speaking and looking at your clothes that were not warm at all. You were dressed in a white shirt and baggy jeans with a weird hat that looked too big for your head. "Yeah, I remember you. You weirdo, why are you dressed like that in the middle of December? Are you trying to die?" He asked, rolling his eyes as he took his heavy sweater off and threw it over you. Making you laugh as you removed the sweater from your head, revelling your smile that made his breath hitch. "I'm jogging trying to run a mile and trying to find out if I can define the cold." He sighed, taking his sweater from your hand and putting your hands in it, then the other, "Yeah, define the devil when you die from cold and get thrown in hell." You laughed at his words. You looked behind him, "Where's your brother? Does he still have his long hair? Wait, your hair kinda looks cool!" Rin rolled his eyes, "you still remember him too. You shouldn't be out at this time of night all alone. You don't know what type of people are out here." You shrugged, taking your phone out and snatched his from his hand, "I'll save my number in your phone, here call me so I can save yours." You handed him the phone and waited for him to call. He looked at him phone then back at you and called. Your face lights up when your phone rang, and you waved it at him with a giggle, "I'll see you soon. Bye bye" you said before walking the other way.

Rin would lie if he said he didn't wait a whole day for you to call. He kept checking his phone every other minute. It's been a whole day now, and you still haven't called. Maybe you didn't care. It was around 12 at night when his phone rang. He picked it up without looking at the name, "RIN RIN!" He sat from where he was sleeping on the bed. "Y/n?" You laughed at his question, "Duh, who else would it be?" He tried to hide his stupid smile even if you weren't there to see it, "Why you calling me this late?" He tried to sound annoyed, but you laughed again. "I couldn't sleep, saw a really scary movie now I'm regretting life and I can't even get up to pee what if the lady with white dress attacks me in the bathroom?" He chuckled at your words rolling his eyes. "And you want me to do what?" He replied. "Stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep!" You replied excitement in your voice, and he felt his face burning; don't couple do these kinds of things? He thought. Nevertheless, he didn't mind staying on the call as you rambled about random things. He could hear you trying hard to stay awake by the time it was 3 in the morning so he decided to be the one talking as you just replied in a hum, he talked in a low voice until he heard you snoring softly on the other side of the call. He chuckled, "idiot. Sleep well." He whispered before putting his phone beside him still on the call.

When you decided to return his sweater, he "forgot" to tell Ran that you were coming honestly he kept asking Ran if he has to be somewhere so when you'll arrive you won't see Ran. Rin wasn't jealous. He's just Rin. Ran heard the bell rang and went to answer the door, "Yes?" He asked when he saw you; at first, he didn't recognise you until you smiled, throwing your hands open, "Ran!" His eyes widened, and he smiled, "Oh shit, it's my favourite prisoner! Come here. " He pulled you up in a hug, and you laughed, "Oh, look at you all grown up. How did you?-, wait, RIN? Y/N IS HERE!" Rin tried to act unbothered when he saw his brother wrap you in a hug, "I met Rin last week, and I came by to return his sweater." Ran looked at his brother, wiggling his brows as you walked behind Ran, Rin rolled his eyes, "she was jogging in a shirt and jeans, " Rin stated. You handed him the bag that had his sweater, and it smelled like you. "So Rin has been gatekeeping you from me? And look at you, you look so beautiful now. You've grown so much!" Ran said, holding your hands as he sat on the couch, and you were standing in front of him. He nodded with a smile, "Your hair changed. It's black here. Looks so cool." You said pointing at his hair, "thanks Gorgeous." You snorted at his compliment, "stawppp, you're making me blush." Ran pulled you to the couch beside him, "come sit with me. How have you been?wow, I can't believe you look so beautiful." Rin groaned, "you said that like a million times since she got here. It's been a minute." You laughed at the two brothers. Ran pinched your cheek, "No more jail, ha?" You shook your head freeing yourself from his grip. "No, sir." You said. Rin watched from where he stood at you talking with his brother. He wanted you to talk to him and sit this close to him.

You'd often run into each other on your way, and you'd always cling to Rin's arm, and he really didn't get bothered by it.

Late night calls were a regular thing. Rin would always wait for you to call him and ramble.

Until one night, you didn't call, nor has he seen you for two days in a row. He was working on a file when the bell ran at 1 am, he thoughts it's probably some random person that will go away ringing the bell on a rainy night but it ran again and he was ready to deal with whoever it was flinging the door open just when he was about to shout. Rin's heart dropped at the sight of you in tears, and you looked distressed as you hugged him crying. He's never seen you cry, and his mind went blank the moment he saw you crying and a small bruise on your lip immediately anger filled his eyes as he shut the door moving you in with him. "Who did this to you?" He asked, and you cried, "my boyfriend hit me." Let's just say that "boyfriend" now ex, apparently lost an arm the next day.

That night, Rin didn't let you leave his sight as he made you change into much comfortable pyjamas of his that looked way too big on you. He even dried your hair after the shower. You were tired, so he let you sleep in his bed, covering you with all his soft blankets as he went back to grab his laptop to work on a file. He sat beside the bed working when you moved in your sleep, brows frowned, he placed his hand on yours hushing you softly and You grabbed his hand in sleep pulling it closer to your heart. Rin's eyes widened, and he flustered, but he also knew you probably needed comfort after whatever you bo-ex did.

Rin didn't want you to leave him or the house when you can be here, safe. And you got used to his care that you just clung on him EVERYWHERE he went; he really didn't mind. It took you a few days to go back to your normal self, joking around and making Rin smile at your words, but it KILLED him every time he'd see that scar under your mouth. He wanted to KILL your ex, but you've long moved on.

You two didn't even make it official that you two liked each other it just happened. None of you asked the other if you'd date each other, but Rin would break anyone's hand if they even looked at you.

One day, you were liying on his lap on the couch watching TV, and you turned to look at him, "Are you my boyfriend?" You asked, making his face turn different shades of red, but he tried to look confident and looked down at you, "Yes?" That came out shaky. You nodded and went back to watching the TV only to get off his lap and cuddle his arm beside him; oh, you loved holding his arm and placing your face on his shoulder. You'd find different positions to sit near him, and each one never fails to surprise him. You got up and sat on his lap, wrapping your arms around his middle part and snuggling into him or you'd sit upside down on the couch beside him to which he always grabs you and pulls you on his lap with your head on his chest. "Hushh, sit still. I'm trying to watch this." You'll always fall asleep in his arms he's just that comfortable to you.

You have to hug his arms every time you sleep. And he just stares at you with a smile, glad that he saw you that day in the police station.

He's only soft for you and does everything you want and deserve, which is not much because you barely ask him anything other than his skilled cooking.

You are dear to him.

[kysslasher]

KEEPSAKE:: leon kennedy

WARNING:: 80's au, playboy! Re2!Leon, car sex, riding, hair pulling, oral, fingering, teasing, fingering, slight edging, overstimulation, slight rejection, teasing, sexual tension

SUMMARY:: after a failed date you expect some sort of a reward for putting up with Leon who still seems to be hung up on his ex.

Leon Kennedy has been on many dates. One would even say that he has hooked up half of the girls after a date— which were all unsuccessful. It's not that there was anything wrong in particular with the people he has taken out, it's just that none of them have piqued his interest for a second one. And it just so happens that you had been taken on one of said dates.

When Leon asked you out on a date to the movies and dinner you hadn't expected the movie to be some trashy chic flick about an American actress going to Italy and falling in love with her friend's married Italian lover. It dragged on for 2 hours and you couldn't stand to sit through the first minute of opening credits. But not only did you sit through a silent car ride on your way to the restaurant but when you sat inside the restaurant it felt like this terrible date would never end.

"I used to be on the basketball before I graduated and I started working with my friend, she's really cool- she even has a neck tattoo" he rambled on and on for what felt like a lifetime. Only nodding off as he rambled on and on about working at the old movie theater and something about how his manager only shows up to be a dick.

But low and behold the lovely waitress with a tight lipped smile "would you like your bill.. or would you like me to swing by a little later?" She asked politely looking at the both of you. "You can give us our check now" you answered quickly before pulling 30 dollars out of your pocket when the check was set on the table.

Once Leon had caught his eyes on the cash in your hand he shook his head "you don't have to pay, what kind of guy would I be to make you pay for your food?" He says patting his pockets which makes you roll your eyes "it's fine" you reply flatly pressing the 20 and 10 dollar tip onto the wooden table and like second nature stood from the worn out booth walk to the class doors pushing them open and making a b-line to the boys nice and shining Pontiac.

Leon grew up coddled, he was popular in high school, he had the cutest girl in his grade. Now he's digging it with girls who never made it past the first date because he never could find a bond with them, while working at the local theater and losing all cool points he's earned on his way up in high school. Well on your end you didn't care for his past reputation, you didn't care for this date and the fact that you haven't had an ounce of fun since you had walked past your front porch was eating you up inside.

When you heard keys jangling in an instant you turned your head being met with Leon walking over to the drivers side of the car. Unlocking the doors you both get in and once the car starts you fiddle with the radio never wanting to sit through silence and letting the hum of the radio come out softly through the speakers.

You were so caught up in your thoughts you had failed to realize how dark it had started to get, the once blue sky turned to deep orange and yellow hues. Watching as the power lines zipped past you in a blur, if you were going to sit in this car you would be damned if you had to sit in awkward silence and do nothing.

Just as Leon had turned onto the highway the road seemingly empty as it got darker out and the headlights of his car lighting up the black asphalt on the road. Your view flickering between the road and Leon who was watching the road with one hand on the wheel as the other slumped against the middle console.

The sight of his thighs sat stiffly while his jaw clenched. "Leon, if you're not over your ex why'd you ask me on a date?" You ask curiously as you tilt your head leaning in a bit pressing the swell of your chest against his hand on the console. "What? I'm over my ex, I have been for a while now. What makes you say that?" He asks as he sputters over his own words at the thought of being hung up over his ex.

"You haven't asked a single thing about me on this date. You really only talked about you, and might I add you even talked about your coworker which really doesn't help your case at all" you say flatly. "Seriously?! I am over my ex I swear" his voice goes up a few octaves higher as he tries to think of something that obscure the idea.

"When was the last time you slept with someone and actually enjoyed it then?" You ask with a twisted grin on your lips. You knew the answer but you wanted to hear it from him, you wanted the satisfaction of hearing the words yourself from his lips. "I don't know? And I'll have you know that I have had great sex without my ex" he snarked at you.

"Yeah your words aren't very convincing like... at all" you say as you push your legs under your thighs "I can change that you know? I don't know if by the end of it you'll even be thinking about her but...I'll occupy your head for a bit" you say, trailing your hand into his lap and rubbing against his thigh.

"What are you doing?" He scoffed as his eyes flicker from his lap with your hand trailing closer to his bulge earning a small gasp from him eliciting a small giggle from your lips loud enough to hear over the buzzing music. "Just keep looking at the road" you whisper as you press your lips to his warm cheek.

Your hand moving closer to his half hard crotch clad in jeans as you palm him, the feeling of fabric pressed against him has him groaning and running a hand through his dark hair in exasperation. "It's not really a good idea to be doing this... while I'm driving" he reasons, which makes you shake your head with a soft smile. "Then focus" you look up at him while your hands move to unzip his pants and unbutton them as well letting him lift his hips while you pull down his jeans far enough over his thighs.

"Shit" he harshly whispers at the feeling of your wet palm wrapping around his cock leaking precum and glistening under the orange and yellow street lights on the side of the road. Taking his cock into your fist, slowly jerking and teasing the tip with your thumb has the boy biting his plump lips while choking back a small groan.

The feeling of your warm tongue has the boy breathing heavily as his foot presses onto the gas harder spreading the car up. "Ease up, you want the car ride to last don't you?" You ask as you look up at him, your tongue pressing flatly against his tip and taking him deeper, letting your lips wrap around him.

The warmth of your mouth around him almost has his eyes rolling, letting his hand rest on the back of your head, needing to push your head down further but letting you slowly take him into the back of your throat as the tip of your nose brushes against his stomach.

Pulling back slowly you began to bob your head, the wet sound of your mouth around his cock has him light headed as he drives slower than he normally would on the highway. Flexing his thighs as the feeling "You're so good at this- fuck y/n" he moaned as his jaw slacks at the feeling of your tongue running against the vein on the underside of his cock that had him nearly shivering.

"keep going. Don't stop" he groaned, letting his head fall back. His hair messily pushed against his forehead as it was soaked from the sweat building at his hairline and his eyes rolled back "you're gonna make me cum" he says breathily as he pushes your hair out of your way turning it into a makeshift ponytail.

Using your hand you hollow your cheeks as your hand takes care of what your mouth wasn't and it had him absolutely lost, still trying to focus on the road he makes a turn to the next exit and choosing to go the longer route to your house.

His breathing becomes more and more unhinged as you use both your hands to jerk him off and licking his tip has him moaning while almost swerving into a random mailbox catching himself before doing so. "I'm so close" he moaned as he clutched your hair tighter realizing how agonizing it felt when you hadn't changed your pace at all.

"Please go faster" he begged, making you smile a bit as you moved your hands away from him completely and taking him into your mouth while he bucked his hips desperately for a release. you could, feeling the tip nudge the back of your throat while your nose was nestled tightly against his pubic bone. While your eyes are closed tight to focus on relaxing your gag reflex to not ruin the tight feeling for him you move faster hoping that would push him over the edge.

"Oh- fuck" he gasped as he gripped the wheel tighter as he felt his orgasm crash on him like a ton of bricks. "I can't...I can't keep driving or I'm gonna crash- fuck" he whined as he pulls onto the side of the road and cutting the lights and engine. The only sounds that could be heard were Leon's heavy breathing.

Watching as you pull back with glossy eyes as your cheeks and chin covered in spit and cum which has his head pulled back against the headrest completely dazed. "You okay?" You ask as you wipe off your face with small puffs of laughter falling past your lips. "I'm good...really good" he says with a faint smirk.

"I wanna make you feel good too" he says, his eyes trailing over to your fully clothed figure, your eyes low and red almost as if you had been high, lips puffy and swollen. "You can do that" you nod as you manage to crawl over the middle console and sit against his thighs, your skirt riding up your legs.

"You're so wet" he whispered as he felt the warmth of your slick panties stick against his skin making you look down where you had been sat with slight embarrassment. His finger rubs against your clothes slit watching as the wet patch on your panties becomes bigger. Pressing his thumb down on your clit had a moan falling past your lips as your hand trails to his wrist pulling his hand past the waist band on your panties.

"I need you, here." You mumbled as you felt his nimble fingers running against your slit making you whine desperately. Grinding against his fingers you can hear his laughing breathily as he watches you fall apart on top of him. "I'd call you desperate if I didn't want to fuck you so bad" he says as he presses his forehead against yours, watching the way you get off could make him cum untouched.

"Just shut up" you whined out with a small gasp pressing your lips against his hungrily your hand raking through his hair, your tongues lapping against the others and sucking on his pulling away with a small 'pop' you bite your lip as you keep eye contact with him. "Fuck this feels so good" you whisper your forehead still pressed against his as he rubs your clit in figure 8's.

"Yeah?" He asks as he pulls his hand away and out of your panties earning a small whine from you. His fingers pushing your panties to the side. "Why?" You practically cry out. Leon's eyes never leaving yours watching them gloss over from the loss of pleasure. "I want you to cum with me" he says just above a whisper while he takes his length into his hand pumping himself a few times before pressing his tip against your entrance and with a harsh hiss he's slowly pushing inside your tight walls.

The warm and wet feeling has him drunk on the feeling of you around him. Pushing his seat back far enough that both of you are comfortable as Leon watches you grind your hips against him slowly as he bottoms out inside you, the feeling being all too good for his liking.

"It's so big" you groan as your hands press against his abdomen lightly bracing yourself to start moving. The soft thudding of your thighs meeting against yours sends goosebumps all over your skin. Leon couldn't possibly keep his hands to himself as he finds the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head.

"No bra?" He groaned watching as your bare chest bounced with every movement you made which has you smiling with your lip caught between your teeth. "You're so big" you slur seeing how good he filled you up to the brim your arms wrap around his neck your foreheads pressed together as you watch his begin to slowly move. Leon couldn't get enough of the sight as his cock disappeared inside your Pussy.

His cock buried deep inside you that you moan and dig crescent shaped dents into his skin. set a pace for bouncing in his lap. The feeling of your velvety walls tightening around making him choke back a moan.

"Oh- god" you whisper shakily. His hands holding onto your hips guiding a pace, the soft sound of skin slapping with your small moans reverberated through the car.

You looked so good with your chest bouncing and your hair all messy. You looked good with a small sheen of sweat on your skin and your makeup smeared, he was addicted to the sight.

He slowly thrusts into you letting you get used to his size not realizing you were beginning to bounce yourself on his lap desperate to feel pleasure. His pace practically teases you and shows you how desperate you really are from your small moans whimpers.

Leon; eager to let his load off inside you, holds your thighs stopping you from bouncing any longer and begins to thrust his hips up into you. The feeling of his tip pushing at your cervix.

His hips pushing into you as your thighs and ass jiggle at the repetitive thrusts "oh my god!" You moan as you feel him pounding in a certain part of your walls. You tighten around him as your essence forms a white ring around the base of his dick.

"Just like that" you babble mindlessly as his stomach churns at the words spewing out. "Yeah? Want me to fill you up with my cum?" he groans as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten and Leon's death grip on the fat of your thighs almost sends you over the edge if it wasn't for how hard he was pounding you.

he placed his hand on your ass, kneading the flesh harshly as whimpers left his lips at the feeling of your walls closing around him. "Just like that, yes, please please please!!" You beg, feeling yourself getting closer and closer as he punctuates his thrusts. You pull his hair, again and again, harder and you can't help but become more aroused from the sounds he lets fall from his lips.

Sitting up completely Leon doesn't hesitate to kiss against your warm skin, from the valley between your breast to sucking on your nipples, the warmth of his mouth has you utterly out of it while you fuck yourself on his cock begging for some sort of release. The sloppy sounds make your head spin, your hand trailing from his hair to between the both of you.

Rubbing your clit in hopes that this would send you closer to your orgasm. "Fuck- oh fuck" he moaned against your chest as you clench around him as he felt absolutely pussy drunk with you on top of him. Leon could barely comprehend a thing as he stops you all together.

"Get up" he said breathlessly as you push yourself off of his lap, you slowly start to crawl back into the passenger seat thinking even the sex was a complete bust. But the feeling of his hands on your waist keeps you from moving. "Bend over into the seat" he says moving out of your way as you feel a smirk on your pretty lips.

With your back arched and your face pushed against the headrest you knew that you were done for, Leon pushing inside you again and without a care in the world thrusts into you at the same pace he was going before.

"Harder- please" you moan out as the windows begin to fog over, Leon begins to buck his hips into you at a faster pace as the slick sound of your pussy and precum mix loudly along with the patterning of your thighs slapping against his. You feel ecstasy at the way he made you feel so full.

His large hands onto your spine as making your chest push into the seat, not that you minded at all. Leon from behind absolutely loses his mind as his fingers card through his brown locks. Fucking into you with harsh and sharp thrusts that have your toes curling. Your ass bouncing against his lap has him tossing his head back leaving a stinging sensation in both of your thighs.

you begin to bounce and grind against him to meet his hips. It felt like he was in your stomach and you didn't mind at all, your hands the seat tighter as he used his other hand to wrap around your throat pulling your back against his chest.

"Aw look at you, all fucked out. What would your friends think about me bending you over in my car and fucking you like a slut hm?" He asks as his grip around your throat tightens, you couldn't even gather your words as he hits a spot that has you breathing shakily and your moans are even more louder.

"Right here? Does it feel good here?" He asks as he drags his cock against that same spot again and again "yeah, it feels so fucking good Leon" you moan as your eyes roll back. The feeling of his sweet lips on your skin as you feel like you're in heaven.

Your thighs are practically shaking at the feeling, pleasure practically taking over your body as Leon pounds you into his front seat without a single care in the world. Pushing your face against the seat while he becomes sloppy and rougher with every passing second you could feel the pressure in the pit of your stomach growing and waiting to be released.

"I can't take it" you moan as you shake your head "I'm gonna cum" you whimper as you feel warm tears slide down your cheeks. "I think you can baby, you wanna cum so bad right? So take what I give you" he orders sweetly in a faux tone. His thrusts are non stop and you can't help but let the pleasure envelope you.

"Oh fuck" you gasp as the feeling of release comes closer "cum for me. I know you can" he coos at you while pulling your hips into his harder than before tipping you over the edge as your walls clench around him sporadically earning a guttural moan ripping through his throat.

"I'm close, where do you want it?" He asks as he continues to fuck into you "inside. Please cum inside me" you whimpered before you felt the pressure in your stomach let loose "I got you, you're okay" he praised as his fingers rubbed down your spine leaving goosebumps up and down your body.

A few more thrusts slow and deep have your toes curling and sending Leon into an orgasm struck daze. "Fuck you feel so good" he groans as his hands rub against the red warm skin of your ass. Leaning of you and kissing up your spine as you both bask in your pre orgasm clarity.

"I see why so many girls like you Leon" you say breathlessly with a smile making him chuckle as he runs a hand through his hair slowly pulling out of you with a hiss due to loss of warmth. "Well it's a pleasure to live up to your standards" he says as he reaches into his glove box and pulls out wipes cleaning you up.

The both of you getting dressed again and seated, Leon starts the car and the both of you are back on the road with the faint sound of music filling the air as the both of you exchange small words every few minutes until Leon turned on the road your house was located.

Pulling into your gravel driveway he parks and opens his door walking onto your side and opening it offering a hand which makes your brows shoot up at the sudden chivalry, taking his hand and shutting the door behind you he walks you to your fronts door and as you turn to look at him you see the small smile on his lips. "So...this was nice" he says as he looks down at his feet.

It wasn't.... Not until the both of you had sex in the back of his car at least. "Right... just- let me know when you get over Ada" you pat his chest with an awkward grin on face as you watch his head fall back letting out a groan. "I told you. I'm over her- seriously we broke up and I haven't talked to her since" he shakes his head.

You could tell by the tone in his voice he wasn't, but Leon was eager to see you again so it meant he was moving on. One step forward. "Let me know when you're ready for something serious, Kennedy."

You snap your fingers as you give yourself an idea, your hands find themselves under your skirt which had Leon in a small shock at your actions seeing a flash of your pink panties as you pull them down your legs and balling it in your hand. "Until then have the panties as a keepsake to get off whenever you like" you say, stuffing the ball of wet fabric into his pockets. and with that you leave him at your front door with his hand in his pockets clutching your frilly panties.

Opening the door and shutting it behind you Leon stands at your doorstep biting his lip turning on his heel and walking back to his car watching how the windows were still a bit foggy. Opening the driver side to the door and sitting down in his seat he sighs, dragging his finger across the glass in the shape of a U and to small dots in the shape of the tip of his index finger a smiley face left behind.

"I gotta get her on that second date" he huffed to himself as he pulled out of the driveway of your home.

[russo-woso]

No space || Kim Little

Requests here. Prompt lists here.

"It's fine, you can just sit on my lap."

Summary You and Kim being so in love

Quick little one :) (sorry I had to do that)

You had made plans to go with it with the team to celebrate the end of the season.

Finishing on a big high, a 5-0 win against Brighton, it was definitely a well deserved night out.

The season has been a crazy one at that.

There were lots of firsts for a lot of people, first debuts, first goals, for you, it was first time being captain.

With Kim being on the bench, Leah out injured, and Katie also on the bench, the armband was given to you.

Although that was a major first, it wasn’t the biggest one.

The biggest one was dating a teammate for the first time.

When you joined Arsenal during the 2021-22 season, you knew who your new teammates were.

Some you knew internationally, Leah, Beth and lotte, some you knew from playing against them, some you hadn’t met at all.

There was one person who you had never met personally but had always been intrigued and impressed by.

The way she played, the way she spoke, the way she smiled, it had you in a chokehold even though you’d never met her.

Kim Little.

When you first met Kim, it was, well you liked to put it this way, love at first sight.

As the rest of the 21-22 season went on, you and Kim got a lot closer.

There was a noticeable age gap between you and Kim by five years but when you really started falling for Kim, that worry disappeared.

And she felt the exact same way. At first Kim was weary of the age gap, but she figured love was love, and she loved you.

Near to the end of that season, Kim bit the bullet and asked you on a date.

She thought it out very well and had noted down over the months which foods you liked and didn’t like, and made a three course dinner for you.

As you were leaving her house that night, you said goodbye and hugged at the door, and as you jumped in your car, you realised you forgot something.

Running back to her door, before you void even knock, Kim opened it.

“Y/N, wait! I forgot something!” Kim shouted, not knowing you were just there.

“I forgot something too.” You smiled, walking closer before leaning down to connect your lips.

That was a long time ago now, and although you thought in that moment you couldn’t be happier, you really could.

Within the past year, you and Kim have moved in with each other, which was perfect.

You were having the highest of highs in your career, having been arsenals top goalscorer, with 21 goals, this season.

So when you were asked to celebrate tonight, there was no way you were saying no.

“Y/N, Kim!” An Irish accent was heard from the other side of the club. “What drinks would you like? First rounds on me.”

“I’ll have a margarita Katie, thank you. I’ll come with to help you carry the drinks.” You told her before turning to Kim. “You go find us seats, baby. I won’t be long.”

You pressed a kiss to her cheek before walking over to Katie who was at the bar.

“So, you and Kim got anything planned for later tonight?” Katie asked, passing the time whilst the barman got the drinks prepared.

“I don’t know. It depends on what time we get back.” You responded, a light pigment resting on your cheeks.

“There’s your drinks, ladies. Enjoy your night.” The barman smiled politely, handing you a tray each filled with numerous drinks.

Making your way back to the table, you helped hand the drinks round before looking at all your teammates, noticing there way no more space left.

“Where should I sit?” You asked aloud, most of the girls looking in your direction.

“It’s fine, baby, come sit on my lap.” Kim told you, gesturing for you to come sit on her lap.

You smiled, walking over to Kim and settling on her lap, leaving a kiss on her lips.

She wrapped her arms around you, attempting to rest her head on your shoulder but with the height difference, it made it hard for her to do that.

“Switch?” You asked and she nodded straight away.

Once Kim was comfy on your lap, you finally noticed the girls all smiling at the two of you.

“You two are so in love.”

[arienotari]

Drowning

Summary: When your worst fear becomes a reality and all you have on the other side is a brown eyed boy.

Pairing: Wally Clark x Reader

Warnings: Death, Drowning, Bullying

Edit: I am terrible at editing, and I tried my best so I'm sorry if you find any mistakes. This is my first full story I am releasing out into the world.

Word Count: 3330

I’ve never liked swimming.

People say it makes them feel free, but I felt anything but free. Every chance I got I avoided water at all costs. It's suffocating. Something about floating in a body of endless water and possibilities always made my skin crawl. One major problem that contributes to my fear is the fact that I can’t swim. I don’t blame anyone for this setback because I've never asked how to or showed interest. My inability to swim didn’t become a problem for me until my senior year of high school. I’ve gotten out of swimming class every year up until now and I had no choice but to take it. I tried to tell the swimming coach and counselors privately that I couldn’t take the class. All they said was I could stay in the shallow end. That I’ll be fine. I believed them. 

Word spread quickly throughout my class that I couldn’t swim once they started noticing I wouldn’t leave the 4ft mark. I didn’t really care, all I cared about was getting through the year. I was never really popular which didn’t matter much to me but being in this class never made it more obvious how much I hated it here. I felt eyes on me at all times which only made being in the water worse. 

It was March 12, 2015. Only a couple months left of school and then I’d be off to NYU living my dream of being a writer. First I had to get through 4th period swim class of course. I walked into the girls changing room preparing for the next 50 minutes of anxiety as I put my swimsuit on. I folded my dark blue jeans, my gray sweater, and a white tank top with lace on the trim that I wore under the sweater. Making my way to the pool I started putting my hair up in place of a hair cap I seem to have forgotten. Staring at the water I can see the bottom but it doesn’t stop the feeling of wanting to crawl up from my throat. Half the girls were already in the water preparing for a game of volleyball. Step by step down the ladder my hands begin to shake and my mouth becomes dry like I just ate pancakes. I make my way to the back to avoid any confrontation or any chance of being involved in the game. The one thing good about this class is it has a perfect view of the sky. I always get lost staring out at it wondering who’s also looking back. It makes me forget the situation I’m in and my environment. That's until a ball lands in front of me and about 15 girls are looking back at me waiting for my next move. I pick it up with my now calmer hands from before and spike it. Thankfully I made it over to the other side and the girls immediately turned back to the game. Not without some dirty looks but quite frankly I don’t really care. I watch as Mrs. Withers gets a call which seems to be serious as she tells us that she needs to step outside and when the bell rings to just go ahead. It’s only 10 minutes later when the shower bell rings and I feel the crushing weight lift off my shoulders. The other girls split based on which ladder they are closest to heading to the locker room and I help one of the girls get the volleyballs together. Making my way back to solid ground I rush to put the balls away not wanting to be one of the last to leave. I grab a towel on the rack near the other end of the pool as I make my way back seeing the last of everyone leaving. At least that’s what I thought until I heard someone behind me scream “Wait up” before running past me tripping me in the process. Losing my balance I watch as the one who screamed leaves the room leaving me alone. I hit the water with a loud splash waiting to hit the bottom to kick back up only to never feel my feet hit the concrete. I try to reach for the surface but everything I try seems to pull me down further. I panic, feeling my lungs on fire from filling with water. I tried to scream but no one could hear me and no one ever would. Everything was starting to go black and everything was becoming numb. All I could think about was how much I would miss out on. Finally, everything goes dark and I feel like I’m floating but I’m not, I’m being pulled up. I grab onto whoever’s pulling me up as if my life depended on it. Once I reach the surface my lungs fill with air as I begin to cough unbearably with my eyes screwed shut. I feel myself being hoisted up on the ground and out of the water. I’m pulled into the person who saved me as I am unable to move from exhaustion. When the person holds my face to center it I finally open my eyes as I am met with wide brown ones. 

“Are you okay”, he’s breathing heavily as I study him blocking out his yell to someone to bring his jacket. 

I feel a warm weight on my shoulders seeing its a blue and white letterman jacket out of the corner of my eye. 

“Thank you for saving me” I give him a weak smile but all I get in return is an expression filled with nothing but sorrow and guilt. 

Still seated on the floor I hear a horrified scream from beside me causing me to whip my head towards the chaos. Suddenly time stops and everything goes silent as I choked out a sob watching as a student and Mrs. Withers pull my body out of the water. The whole class comes to watch as they try to resuscitate me but nothing is happening. I feel the stranger push my head into his chest and I begin to cry harder than before. He repeats “I know’s” and “I’m sorry’s” as my world comes crashing down on me. 

Hours later we are still in the same position my hair and clothes dry now along with a tear-dried face. It’s dark outside with only the poolside fluorescent lights to illuminate our two figures. I begin to shiver more and more as the stranger who pulled me out of the water rubs my back and arms. 

“We need to get up, you're getting too cold” he whispers, pulling his body to get a better look at me. 

I lift myself up getting a better look at him as well as I memorize his long structured face, beauty marks, and brown eyes. After a minute I nod and try to stand up realizing that I’m still exhausted, the position not helping adding to the pain. He helps me steady myself and fully extend as he holds my hands making sure I’m okay. 

“You should take a shower and change into your regular clothes, I’ll probably do the same and I will explain everything once we're done. Okay?”, he says softly with an uneasy half-smile waiting for my response.

“Okay,” I whisper back at him not wanting to raise my voice feeling it’ll be too much to handle. 

His smile fills out more as he nods and begins to turn away to do the same tasks as me. I begin to turn away as well before I realize I never got the guy's name who pulled me out of the pool and stayed with me for hours. 

“What’s your name?,” I said, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away. 

He looks down at my hand holding his arm which makes me see I’m still holding onto him causing me to let go. 

“Wally, Wally Clark”, he said with a wide smile that made me feel alive again for just a split second. 

After warming up from the shower I changed into my clothes from before that were neatly folded. As I begin to walk out of the locker room I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look back at the girl staring at me feeling disconnected from who she was or what she could’ve been. I take a heavy breath before opening the door to leave and face the reality of my situation. Stepping into the hall, the school looked unnatural to me with the lights off. I look over and see a less wet and cold Wally approach me with the same smile as before. 

“How was the shower? Do you feel better?”, he asked one right after the other. 

“The shower was good and I’m doing the best I can with the fact that I am already dead,” I said, peering up at him only noticing now how tall he really is. 

“I know it's hard and I’m sorry it happened this way but I will try to explain everything the best I can.”, he said, extending his elbow out for me to take it as we began to walk further down the halls.

And Just like he said Wally kept his word and explained everything to me that he could. Like how we’ll never be able to leave school grounds unless we pass on. He also showed me all the other kids stuck here just like us and told me how some passed. As well as the weird support group that the kids attend in the gym. Even though he’d joke he never sugar-coated anything, which I couldn't help but appreciate. I won’t lie, the first couple of weeks were rough. I was plagued by the memory of what happened as well as the thoughts of the future I’ll never get. It definitely didn’t help that everyone at school was mentioning it and not in a sorrowful way. During those few weeks, Wally helped a lot with trying to be a distraction so I wouldn’t focus on others. I guess one of the perks of being dead is being able to duplicate belongings so I was able to get my phone and journal. I found the perfect spot on the football field to just listen to music and lie down. I’d close my eyes and imagine what life could’ve been but I knew I couldn’t do that forever, so I started to write more. It was easier to put my wishes and fantasies on pages without having to dwell on them. I usually kept my writing to myself so around 7:30 every day I’d go to my little bubble of solitude on the field and write. It was May now so the sun would start to set around 8 giving me enough light and a view. 

“What are you writing?'' I suddenly hear Wally's voice right next to my ear. 

“Jesus Christ Wally you scared me to death”, I said, jumping in reaction to the sudden deep voice, placing my hand on my heart and dropping my journal. 

“I mean it's a little too late for that someone must’ve beat me to it.”, he said smiling at me as he sat down next to me grabbing my journal to open it. 

I glare at him and snatch my journal back. 

“What too soon?”, he said with a stupid grin trying to get my journal back.

“Just a little,” I said, scrunching my nose. 

“No but seriously what are you writing? You come out here every day and write in that little journal.” He said leaning back on his arms a bit more to get my full face into view. 

I try to hide the blush that has crept up on my face when I realize that he’s been watching me come out here. After a moment I brush my hair out of my face and am met with those famous brown eyes. I take a deep breath before explaining to him my reasons. 

“I don’t want to stay stuck in the living because all it’ll do is bring harm. All I thought about for the past couple of months was what I’ll miss but I never stopped and processed my death. I’ve been hurting for all the things I couldn’t change and it caused me to push anything away, even you. So I thought why not write my wishes and wants down so they don’t stay on my mind. At least this way I can close the journal.” I said with a tiny smile looking up at him as he was staring back intently listening. 

“Before I died I wanted to be a writer and I had my whole life planned out, I was going to attend—“ 

“NYU, I know,” he said, finishing my sentence before I could. 

I watch as Wally sits up straighter and scooches closer to me before tilting his head. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say because he’s fidgeting with his necklace. I wait for him because there’s no point in rushing, I have all the time in the world. 

“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he says with a breath held in waiting for my response. 

One of my eyebrows lifts as I tilt my head in response to the slightly weird statement. 

“Oh god, that came out creepier than I meant it to. What I meant to say was even when you were alive I knew who you were.” He said laying back fully down in the grass. 

I watched as he covered his eyes with his hands with a frustrated grunt like he was trying to revert into a hole. 

“What do you mean?”, I said moving towards his laid position to where I’m now bent over leaning towards him leaving my crisscross position to now on my knees. 

I grab his hands that are covering his eyes and pull them down to his chest as I hold them to keep him from covering his eyes again. How he’s looking at me I can tell he’s debating with himself. I wait and listen before I watch as he closes his eyes. 

“The first time I saw you was during your freshman year in the library. I was looking for something to watch for group movie night. I had Rhonda yelling at me in one ear and Charlie telling me something in the other. I was getting a little annoyed but then I looked between the bookshelves and there you were.” He takes a pause to look at me and I squeeze his hand in return to continue. 

“You were tucked into the corner where the bookshelves meet, where no one could see you. In your hands was The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea. I watched as you cried the further you got into the book. After that day I came back to the library every day to see you. I even started picking up some of the books you read, but I couldn't finish half of them though.” He said with a small smile on his face and in his voice.  

He sat up which caused him to become closer to me while he took my hands instead of me holding his. He was looking at the grass for a minute while rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. When he looked up I could see that he was tearing up making my heart ache. 

“I knew you had anxiety when it came to swim class because you couldn’t swim so I’d go to try and help. Even though you couldn’t see or feel me, I was always there.” He said lifting his hand up to tuck a loose strand of my hair that fell. 

His hand stayed in place as he cupped my cheek and I went to ask why he was tearing up because of this before he spoke. 

“I watched you die. I was there and I couldn’t do anything until it was too late, that’s why I was there. I had to watch you struggle knowing I couldn’t grab you or even scream for help.” He said with his voice croaking with the struggle of what he’s had to go through. 

My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the walls I built up crumble down with one look at him. I never knew he’d been holding in something like this for so long. If I had known I would’ve never tried to shut him out. I was scared of what had happened and how my life had ended but I never thought about him. He was always there and whenever I needed help he was right by my side. I moved from my position pulling him into a soul-crushing hug. It took him a second to respond to the sudden gesture but after a couple seconds, I felt his arms wrap around me.

“Wally my death wasn’t your fault, I need you to know that.”, I softly spoke while hugging him harder, feeling him return it. 

We continued hugging for what felt like years but could never be enough for me to be satisfied. One of my arms is coming up from under his arm grappling his shoulder while the other is around his waist. His arms are wrapped around my waist and I can feel his hands rubbing small circles on my back. Looking up from being tucked away in his shoulder I notice the sun is beginning to set. I begin to pull away and when I make eye contact with him again he’s only a mere few inches away from my face. I raise my hand to brush his hair away from his face as it has flattened from the hug. My hand slips down as it trails from the side of his head to where it now rests on his neck. He’s staring at me the whole time while I do this and when I look up to meet his eyes my heart quickens. Well, I imagined it quickened. There’s something about those brown eyes I’ve grown fond of that makes me feel alive again. His eyes flash down to my lips and back up to my eyes like he’s silently pleading. I give into his wants that now become a need for me and all I can do is nod. His hand comes up to my face pulling me towards him as our lips meet. The kiss felt like everything in my little life led up to this moment. Nothing else seemed to matter to me but the boy in front of me right now who just confessed that he’d been watching me for years. Wally’s the one to pull away first. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him wanting to capture this moment forever. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek and giving me a quick peck. I can’t restrain my gleaming smile as he pulls away for the second time. 

“Well I’m glad we got that cleared up”, he laughed as he spoke. 

I glared at him while punching him in the arm causing him to fall back but not before dragging me down with him. I land on his chest relaxing in his touch like it’s something I've been craving but have been deprived of. We lay in comfortable silence as I felt Wally rub circles with his thumb on my hip. 

“I’m glad it was you who found me. I don't know what I would’ve done” I said, being the first one to disturb the still air. 

“I am too,” Wally said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head. 

We lay there all night even when the stadium lights came on we just talked about everything and anything. Maybe the afterlife won’t completely suck.