#but you know what I need more dramatic nerd moments in my life and so do you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fairene · 7 months ago

Text

gravity / ln

lando norris x fem!reader

reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n.

where your life with him is just beginning.

yes! yes! i have insane brainrot for lando norris! yes! this is meant as a single 'oneshot' of sorts, but i am open to taking requests of this so called 'universe.' reader here is a stem major, particularly physics (shoutout to the stem students!) which helps perfect the progression. also was inspired by interstellar.

wc: 15.2k woops!

warnings: smut! -- MINORS DNI!!, porn with a lot of plot! angst, drinking, language, friends to lovers, corruption kink (minor), choking, soft!top lando.

it was all consuming; he was, at least, with his curly hair, upturned eyes, smile that brightened the entire room. utterly irresistible, any woman could agree. they’d jump his bones the second he gave them a lingering glance, a playful wink. but that’s all it ever was with those girls— glances, observations. but you, on the contrary, were a fixation. an obsession, one might call it— actually, someone has before. but you ignored it and let it fly over your whimsical head. how could a man like lando norris ever glance in your direction like he did those models, influencers?

you were always just his friend. his best one, yours too you’d admit only in the solace of your lonesome in the hours of the evening. you met him when you were studying abroad in london at the ripe age of nineteen. you were there on a research term for a professor at your university, though it was much far north of london's borders. still, the girlfriends you managed to make would insist on your attendance to the night club scene on the town.

who were you to deny any pleasantries? a hardworking student. a student with a vision, a dream to be more than what society compressed women to be. you’d rather be out to the stake like a medieval witch than become a loftily homemaker. while it was some of your friends desires, yours stretched far beyond the horizon of which any life was palpable.

a nerd in short terms.

you studied physics. with as much fun as your girlfriends had in the club, you found it in the quiet evenings if your research. you’ve devoted a great deal of time for your studies, but hey— every girl lets go here and there.

the one time you did, you met him. in the late evening hours of the bustling club, drink in your hand, short dress sticking to your sweaty skin, he scared your close friend, laurel.

“boo,” he had said with a low tone, grabbing the girl with a blonde bob by the shoulders. she shrieked despite the loud atmosphere and spun around, slapping him on the chest.

“lando!” she exclaimed, which had your attention drawn upward from the half bitten olive in your martini. he was taller than her, than you, muscularity built with a low taper cut of chestnut hair. he was freckled, and the first thing you noticed about him was the way that his eyes smiled.

they curved up at the edges and you could feel the warmth of the sun drip in from the rooftop. even though it was past midnight at this point.

“i didn’t know you were coming,” laurel breathed at an awkward pace then turned to face you. she outreached her hand for you to take with your free one. you did, feeling warm from the alcohol that you had downed from the night.

“lando, this is my bestie from school,” she introduced you by name, to which you gave a small, dramatic courtesy towards the brit. his eyes caught on your act, gleaming with something you could even see in the yellow hued lights of the club. “this is lando norris, rookie of…what team again?”

you glanced from laurel to lando, brows raised. he hesitated for a moment, gracing you with a lopsided smile that, in time, you’d come to adore.

“mclaren. formula one racing.” he answered, taking a hand to brace the back of his neck. he felt the need to clarify for you, which you took in earnest. he earned a light ahh in your reaction.

you were impressed, to say the least. you hadn’t ever met a formula one driver in the flesh, nor you could say you were a devoting fan. of course you knew what it was, watched it on sundays when your uni friends would turn it on, but that was it. as smart as you were, it seemed that someone knew more about something than you did. you reeled.

“and you like it?” you said after a beat, swirling the toothpick inside the olive around your finger. lando seemed to contemplate your words, taken back by such a question. without a doubt he liked racing, otherwise he wouldn’t do it. but that’s not what she was asking, was she? it weighed on him more as his mind unraveled the layers to such a question, but he ended on a simple answer:

“i don’t know if i could love anything more.” a jest, playful and lightheaded when it came from him.

but how the whims would be tested over the years.

────────────

a year later

“a whole season, lando?” you asked him, hands drawn out before you to iterate the sincerity of what he was asking.

a season of going to races with him.

you were graduating within the next two semesters. twenty two now, whereas he was twenty three. but you had qualified to graduate early, as your intent was to do as such, but the tempting leave of absence form that sat in your lap tempted you even further.

you sat in his monaco flat, a frequent place you visited or stayed until you recently gained residency in monte carlo. it was efficient enough for what you needed to do for work— france around the corner, italy to the west. the best physicians rallied in europe, and staying in the isolated united kingdom was not the best option for you. you caved at his months of pleading to move to monaco.

your legs crossed as you glanced from his pacing, anxious position. your fingers tapped incessantly at the piece of paper before you, pre-addressed envelope sitting on the coffee table.

“why not?” he questioned, putting his hands up in defense, stopping before you. he looked down at you, his heart thundering in his chest. say yes he wanted to plead. his knees felt weak. wobbly as your eyes looked back at him, determined. he loved that look. it drove him wild, enchanted by how the cogs of your brain turned.

you sighed, looking off to the side out the floor to ceiling window. “how would i even pay for all—“

“you wouldn’t drop a pound.”

you were taken back. you could never expect him to pay for that. you knew he was well off, given his hefty contract, but you are friends. friends don’t use each other for money.

“lando—“ you began to shake your head.

“no, no, don’t do that.” he stopped you, earning a glare from you. he shivered, relishing in how vindictive you could be. he hasn’t seen it many times untamed, but the fantasy had his blood roaring. “if money wasn’t a problem, would you come?”

“well—“ you attempted to come up with a defense, but nothing formed. you were at a loss of words. “what would i even wear?”

it was february when you touched down in jeddah. lando has instructed you to fly on the jet with him, side by side for the entire eight hour journey.

you were taken back by the sudden personal touches and longing looks from him. something has changed. over the past year he’s had a few girlfriends, none of them serious so he’s told you, and you believed him. your blind affliction to nod your head and whisper okay was the only way you found that you could truly protect yourself. ignorance is bliss, or whatever the poets say.

with your legs crossed the entire flight and eyes peering from the window, you never once felt lando’s eyes drilling into your face. though he was entirely enamored by your bravery, your understanding how important this was to him.

you may be the only one to truly understand his passion. as he began to understand yours.

on your lap was a research journal translated from german. your professor had sent it over to you for your leave of absence, along with ideas for your masters thesis. she was a kind woman and you appreciated all the work she has done to support you. especially translate it from german.

you tended when you felt lando spread his legs, knee bumping into your calf. but you didn’t shy away.

“what’re you reading?”

“do you really want to know?”

he didn’t hesitate. “why wouldn’t i?”

your chest tightened at his soft tone. you’d never get used to that, would you? when you were in such close proximity with him, he would become so gentle, caring. not that he wasn’t in public spaces but… what was the word you were looking for?

intimate

“after your season i fly to germany to finalize my thesis. i’m still struggling on a topic, but…” you flip back a few pages in the book which was messily annotated and sticky-noted. you stopped on the event horizon section. “this one caught my eye. always fascinated me.”

lando scanned the page. it wasn’t the words he was reading, but the marks you left behind. messily written notes in the margins, smeared ink, bright orange notes with rather… rushed drawings of a black hole, surrounded by streams of… “what is it?”

your eyes glimmered. lando wanted to take a picture of you then, turning from your corner of the window and towards him. your palms smacked the page as you excitedly explained the phenomenon in far too great detail for lando to really pay attention, but he was so engrossed in your intellect and pure passion that slipped past your lips. your sweet, honeyed lips—

“lando?”

“hmm?”

“what will it be like?”

“what?”

“all of it.” your fingers tended around the journal creasing the pages unbeknownst to you.

lando reached over, not thinking rationally, and grabbed your hands. they were colder than his. he was always warm. so warm. a light gasp left your lips when you looked up at him.

“i’ll give you some pointers. ready?”

you nodded.

────────────

he kept a hand on you at all times. unhindered by any sudden movement, feigning to latch at the small divot of your back. you’d grow used to its presence as you scaled the tarmac, hopped into the passenger seat of the mclaren— opened by him— and glanced down at how his hand made claim to the skin of your thigh the entire drive.

he’s stressed. you’d tell yourself, not thinking anything more of it. because what else could it be?

────────────

the entire time you kept modesty in mind. you had pestered lando about your choice of attire, thinking specifically about the nature of your outfits.

“i don’t want to be disrespectful.” you said sternly, looking between the stylist lando paid to dress you, and him. it was your debut at lando’s side and you were determined to make the right choice. you were never usually like this— cold and bullheaded, but he was growing to…enjoy it more than he should.

you stood there tapping your foot with your arms crossed. you shrugged towards the outfits she provided you. you shook your head at a few and decided to ask.

“what about orange?”

orange.

lando thought about falling to his knees for you right then and there. to see you sporting his team colors for him was a dream that he would never want to wake from.

the stylist nodded, raking through the options. there was one that was made of silk, a dress that covered you to the ankles, to the forearms. an abaya it was called. if you were going to be representing lando, which he mentioned on the plane, then you were going to do it right.

and you’ll be damned before you’re ever wrong.

────────────

you certainly underestimated the crowds.

with the season opening, you and lando had been swarmed upon your arrival. he warned you of this, but to which the gravity of it you greatly underestimated.

your fists bawled at the material of the dress, clenching with unspoken anxiety. you were never much of a public person, but you’d be willing to find out if that were true or not today.

“hey,” lando nudged your shoulder. you glanced at him with a light smile. “you got this.”

that comfort was enough alone to let you be pulled from the car. lando opened the door for you. immediately swarmed by flashing cameras and the devilish heat of the middle eastern sun.

questions were thrown at him about you, who you were, and you’d let him do all the talking.

you straightened your posture, gripped the handbag tightly, and kept a soft smile to your features.

lando would stop on occasion to sign some memorabilia, which was a perfect time for you to observe. he was kind with the people who were such loyal fans to him. dressed in the mclaren jerseys, hats, he’d sign anything that was thrown his way. even some arms were thrown in his direction.

it was endearing for you. watching him thrive in his element. your heart warmed at the sight. a new found affection blossoming in the pit of your stomach.

a thump was heard on the ground before you. you turned, glancing back at lando who kept moving forward. it was a mclaren hat dropped by a teenage girl wrapped in a similar garment to yourself. you traipsed over, crouching down to pick it up, and hand it back to her.

“here,” you offered in a sweet tone. your smile was brighter. the girl was clearly elated, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“are you and lando dating?” came a question from the girl beside her. she was earned a slap to the shoulder, being called rude.

you laughed lightly, shaking your head. “no, no, friends from home is all.”

you saw a phone held up, recording the interaction. but it didn’t scare you. why would it?

“do you want to wrap your hijab? it’ll fly loose in the wind…” the girl asked nervously, placing the mclaren hat on her covered head. you were taken back for a moment, glancing down at the rather lazy job of the stylist, and took intent note that it was rather windy today. it would be hard for you to maintain it by yourself.

“you would do that for me?” you took a step closer to the barricade, which had lando snapping his head over his shoulder to wonder where you went.

he ogled, watching as a young girl began tying the ends of the scarf in an intricate, skilled manner around your collarbones, your neck. his eyes were caught on the smile you graced, the laugh that left your lips. it was such a delicious sound, intoxicating, one that he wished to drown in. if that were his fate, he’d gladly accept it.

his staring was noticed, fans beginning to call his name louder. he swallowed, hands flexing at his side before he signed a few more hats and posters.

────────────

what you didn’t expect was the way that lando looked in his fire guard suit. the black emblems that contrasted his tan skin, bolstered the tone of his muscles. there was barely anything left up for the imagination as you brought the tip of your finger to your mouth, crossing your legs on the orange couch. you couldn’t seem to sit still.

“you alright?” he asked out of concern, but you didn’t miss the slight curve of his mouth. he knew what you were thinking. you were always so responsive to him, so good, even when there were no words transpired.

“peachy!” you confirmed, sitting back against the couch, your leg bouncing as you tried not to let your eyes meddle on the muscles of his neck, the veins in his hands, the bracelets that dangled from his wrists.

he gave you a look of doubt before his teammate walked in with a girl at his side. oscar, you remembered. you had met before briefly at a press conference you attended in monaco. the girl beside him was his girlfriend— she was entirely too sweet and studied a similar focus as you did.

the two mclaren drivers patted each other on the back, while the woman approached you. she sat beside you with a tick of picking at her fingernails.

your hand found its way on top of hers. “first time, too?”

she nodded and introduced herself formally. you did the same. you laced your fingers with hers, stopping the habit from ruining her lovely nailbeds.

lando watched the interaction from over oscar’s shoulder, a cheeky smile etching onto his face. oscar caught wind of his inattention, and glanced over his own shoulder briefly.

he turned back to lando with a toothy grin. “i’ve been trying to get her to stop that habit.”

because within the matter of minutes you were both talking, not once did his girlfriend raise her fingers to her mouth.

────────────

you pulled and fixed at the collar of his race suit. lando sucked in a low, tight breath. you missed the sound, focused on making sure he looks presentable for the national anthem. it would be any minute he’d climb into the car to do a practice lap.

when you were satisfied with the result, you dusted off the top of his head and was going to let your hand fall to your side. but there was a stain of soot on his chin.

without thinking twice, you grabbed his chin between your fingers. his eyes went wide at the action. his fists clenched at his side, body rigid with the feeling of your unexpected touch.

you licked your thumb before wiping it away, his stubble rough against your fingers. his head crooned visibly into the shape of your hand. the warmth from his cheek getting slightly hotter. heat rushed to your own face, flushing you in your orange dress.

whatever moment was transpiring between the two of you, you didn’t want it to end. neither did he. his breathing softened, but his heart was pounding. your thumb swirled over his cheek once before you gripped him tighter.

“you got this, lan.”

there was the first time you graced him with that nickname. the rest was history for him, knowing that he was a dead man walking at your side. if you weren’t going to be his, he would ruin you. such sickening thoughts had him mulling over what you meant to him. you made time out of your busy schedule for him, and so did he. you were there to answer his calls. he was there to be at your beckon and call. he would wreck his entire career if it meant your undivided attention.

he would pivot, skid, take more reckless actions on the track if it meant having your hands on him. your eyes. your love. he wanted it all with you, he learned, from that first weekend in jeddah. with your communally wrapped headscarf, caring nature, your determination… he wanted it to be his. he wanted you to flourish with him. he wanted to be the reason you blossom.

with your unwavering strength at his side, he could conquer the world. fuck the championship, he wanted it all to be with you. maddening thoughts would consume him day and night after that first weekend, knowing there was only more to come throughout the season. he could only imagine how these months would fare, but he didn’t bide into fantasies. he would expect the unexpected and let you consume him entirely.

────────────

miami was everything you thought it to be. bustling with life, parties, music. it was a stark contrast to what your life at university looked like— though you didn’t mind the occasional outing, of course, especially when lando was at your side.

he was a beam of light crafted by the gods of the sun, brightening every room he stepped in. he was utterly magnetic, drawing others around him, letting them have a joyous laugh. it made you giddy, proud, that he could hold himself so well in the mediocrity of the crowds. while you etched yourself at his side, clamoring for his shadow, he held you tightly at every opportunity.

his hand at your back, clutching for dear life. warm and soothing, you’d lean into him, clutching the hem of his black mclaren shirt.

it had been a friday night. his free practices had been stellar as you watched eagerly from the mclaren paddock. you’d earned a status of earning a headset, your consistent attendance rivaling tidal waves in the media. you always told yourself not to look, not to peek, but you couldn’t help it.

accounts were created in your honor. in your fan name. the mclaren fans loved you, and you loved them. the video of your first appearance at the paddock had gone viral within the community. your sensibility for adhering to culture norms gained you rapport. though you didn’t know why— why wouldn’t you dress appropriately? it grudged you how low the media could stoop, but you were honored nonetheless to gain such positive attention.

of course there were the negatives. some were born to hate and you could live with that. many thought you were using lando for his money, just another stupid girl who didn’t deserve to be at these races. you kept yourself modest from the media with a private account, similar to charles girlfriend, and found that it was better to remain a mystery to those who weren’t a part of your life. you owed them nothing.

though you never breathed these negatives to lando. he would be furious and absolutely say something in public. the last thing you wanted was for him to fight your own battles, yet you thought this nothing to be more of a playground spat. you could handle it; lando doesn’t call you sting for no reason.

on the bright side, you had a steady, growing relationship with oscar’s girlfriend, and even considered each other to be best friends.

though lando would disagree ardently, reminding you that he was always first, no matter the circumstance. he’d whine like a child and pout. how could you resist that face? even when you would playfully hold up four fingers and raise your brows, his number four, contrary to one, he’d scoff and laugh, your ability to see through him was astonishing.

at the club tonight there were bottles and bottles of champagne being opened and passed around in the driver's honor. in your time there you had grown close to all drivers, except a few give or take. but while you carved relationships with the boys, it was the women you sought refuge in.

charles' girlfriend, a tanned brunette sweetheart, would bake for you. in return you would host wine nights with the other women. you’d become accompanied with her new furry companion, little leo leclerc, and you fell in love with him instantly. his little licks of appreciation, his tiny wagging tail. gosh, you loved the pup.

carlos’ partner, rebecca, had intimidated you at the beginning. she was tall, fierce, blue eyes unwavering with confidence as she spoke of deep experience throughout her years in the paddock. it took her longer to adjust to your presence, feeling doubtful of your friendship with the british driver, but changed her mind when she saw you dehumidifying lando’s race suit that hung in the tents in japan’s humid weather.

no one stood around you whilst you did that. no one asked you to. you did it because it was ruthlessly hot and you didn’t want lando to contract a heatstroke.

lily held a place in your heart that none of these girls could truly replace. she was your rock from the first race. you both learned together, wrought each other of the nail biting habits, and laughed amongst the radio calls between the pair of drivers.

the rap music thundered the floor you stood on. heels tall and encompassing, you’d admit plainly you got used to the treatment lando awarded you. nothing but the best, he told you one evening under the moonlight. the words were imprinted in your mind.

alexandra, charles’ sweetheart, called your name.

lando’s grip tensed at your back. you could feel it. you glanced at him, then to alexandra.

“come dance~!” she swayed, floreale spritz in her hand. she egged you forward with her hand, and you loosened yourself from lando’s side.

you had no obligation to stay by him. it’s not like you were dating.

though many would disagree with that.

you mumbled something incomprehensible to lando. he bent his head down towards your mouth, angling his ear to hear your voice.

“will i see you on the dance floor tonight, mr. norris?” you teased, body warm from the cocktail you downed. his head turned, a signature smirk daunting his face.

“want me to?” he said, bringing his lips dangerously close to your ear. you shivered, his breath hot and wet as it graced the curves of your cheeks.

“only if his highness can make time,” you looked up at him through your weary, drunken eyes. something shifted, then, as you stared up at his green eyes. it was dark in the club, but not as dark as his stare. it intimidated you, but not nearly as much as it intrigued you.

“always make time for you baby,” he said, tone playful and airy but it was more than that for you. baby. he was just drunk, wasn’t he? he didn’t know what he was talking about. didn’t know he was talking to you. don’t let it get to your head. “just tell me when. think charles is dying to dance.”

you looked over your shoulder to see charles being teased by sweet alexandra as she shook her head, pointing at you. this was a girls dance, that told you.

before you turned, your hand cupped lando’s neck. he grumbled; you felt it through your palm. it was a nonverbal okay. you spun, threading yourself out of lando’s grasp. he let his hand linger for as long as he could before you slipped away, the imprint of his hand leaving you bare and cold.

it was quickly replaced by the rambunctious action on the dance floor. lit up with multicolored tiles, alexandra grabbed your hand and raised them above your heads, swaying to the heat of the music.

she was a natural beauty. no wonder charles fell in love with her.

you mimicked her dance moves to the best of your ability, hands sliding down your waist, through your scalp and over your head.

alexandra laughed and sashayed, giddy with fun and life. you did the same, unable to withstand her pulsing vibrato. you twirled her around you, she did the same. heads turned at your giggles, a few grunts of laughs had you looking over your shoulder.

the men of the club began to swarm. but in the moment, you didn’t care. let them gawk if they so wish. you felt untouchable.

your body slid parallel to alexandra, hips gyrating with an orbit of its own cosmic makeup. she grabbed onto your waist pulling you close when you rocked from side to side. your hands slid up your neck, down your chest— exposed from the evening gown you chose for the evening festivities.

the swarm intensified. one man attempted to twirl in front of you and alexandra, reaching to touch your forearm, but that’s where the line was drawn.

a body pushed itself between you and the man, alexandra standing up straight behind you. you recognized him instantly— signature smell bringing you an insatiable comfort that soothed your soul.

lando stood before you, face close to yours. he didn’t look pissed off…just…cocky?

before alexandra peeled away, you tilted your head back to her shoulder. she whispered, “needy, needy, needy…”

charles whisked her away for a dance. you didn’t get to respond. there wasn’t much for you to say though, watching how happy alexandra became when charles wrapped his arms around her. you felt sour. what was this feeling?

“you didn’t ask me,” he said into your ear, bringing your attention back to him. little to your knowledge he watched as you glanced between the happy ferrari couple, your face scrunching and hand coming to cover your lips.

you gave him a quizzical look.

“to dance!” he laughed, big and goofy. but there was an edge to his tone. was he peeved? did he think that you forgot about him?

“wanted you to come get me.” you slurred, lifting your arms to throw them over his muscled shoulders. when you were met with a hard surface. your eyes bulged at just how big he’s gotten this year alone. it made you want to touch him more, explore his body behind the polo mclaren shirt.

he raised his brows at you. “yeah?”

you pursed your lips together, letting your eyes flutter. “wanted you to hunt me down, little lando.”

his hands fell to your hips, fingertips functioning your skin. his demeanor shifted. your words igniting such a vicious flame inside his heart that burned for you and you alone. you were practically fucking edging him with your words. he wished it was the other way around. how insatiable your screams could be, the little noises you’d make.

you warmed even more when his head dove into your neck, lips parting so you could feel his tongue. “‘ve already got you.”

“do you?” you challenge. lando loves a good challenge.

he tucked you against his body, saying nothing more.

“dance with me.” it wasn’t a question. but a statement.

rolling your eyes, annoyed that he didn’t answer you, you pivoted on your heel. your back against his abdomen. you’d surely regret this on the morrow, but that was a problem for then. now, you only felt sturdy as you leaned your weight into lando. he supported you with ease.

dancing with him was always the easy part. he knew how to move his body, sway his hips, and lure any girl into the trap of his toned and tanned arms. but it was never you up until now. you’d always dance with the other drivers, girls, friends, but never him. it was something far too intimate for you, but you weren’t sure how lando thought about it.

but your friends noticed.

rebecca snuck up behind alexandra, carlos at her arm.

“look at him,” she gestured to lando who was entirely smitten with your let-loose expression. his hands were tight around your hips, legs spread to cage you against him. a fortress came with the name lando norris, and you were his queen.

“entirely in love.” rebecca concluded, and alexandra agreed with a nod.

“you should talk to her.” charles suggested, clearly feeling the pain his friend was going through, yearning at a distance.

“and say what, char?” alexandra asked her partner. “do you love him like he loves you?”

“is that a bad idea?” charles retorted and was met with silence between the two girls.

“we’ll figure something out.”

against your bodice, you felt the hard imprint of his dick blistering against his jeans. but it didn’t frighten you, not like his touches used to. your tour of the grand prix’s continued your closeness amongst one another, so…

your hips continued to sway, egged on by how lando ran his arms up your waist. it felt good–his hands, the tension woven into them. he felt good.

you turned around to face him, letting your hands wrap around his neck. he looked euphoric beneath the dim lighting, rbg hues collectively making him look like he was glowing. he was, in truth, because of you. always because of you.

the two of you were making eye contact now. not just any, but you thought it was the most intense of your life. his eyes rimmed with red, exhaustion you thought, and you suddenly felt guilty for keeping him out for so long. it’s not like you weren’t tired yourself.

you raised your head to his ears. “we should go.”

he narrowed his eyes, looking disappointed that the festivities were ending so soon. “you want to?”

your head nodded. one hand came down to brush against his hand, taking it between yours. “tired.”

the alcohol had taken its course through you. head pounding with a soft thump, you clasped your hand with lando’s. he returned the same force, swiping his thumb over your knuckles. he didn’t hesitate when you said you were tired. that was that for him. he had no other reason to stay.

“just wanna say bye to them,” you said, making your way over to rebecca and alexandra. they turned to you when you had lando in tow, entirely at your whims.

“we’re meeting tomorrow?” you confirmed. both girls nodded, a shared glance between them making you feel uneasy. alexandra told you to come to ferrari’s paddock. you’d nod your head before they both raised their brows at each other again, sheepish smiles flashing in your direction.

“what?” you prodded. they smiled at you again.

“nothing. we just can’t wait for tomorrow.” rebecca soothed your concerns, though it didn’t prevail as much as you hoped.

“that was weird.” lando said into your ear when you were close to the exit.

“right?” you were glad he noticed. he always noticed these things. too observant for his own good.

before you stepped foot out of the club, you turned back when you felt a thump. like a body had fallen to the ground. you stopped in your tracks.

the man that grabbed your arm laid face flat on the ground. lando looked down at you, looking smug. though he didn’t hit him.

“must’ve tripped.” he shrugged.

“should watch where he’s going.” you said, knowing that he didn’t just trip.

“guess so.”

────────────

saturday afternoon you were standing beside rebecca and alexandra when qualifying started. you wore a casually chic outfit. pants, a shirt, matching accessories. the stylist lando hired was getting to know you better. she understood what patterns you liked, your sense of aesthetic. it felt like a homecoming.

“so,” alexandra crossed her legs as all three of you sat on the couch. “what happened with lando last night?”

you were taken back. “what do you mean?”

they exchanged a look.

“you left together!” rebecca held up her hands as if pointing out the obvious. she was, really.

“so…?”

“so…! he went back to your room?” alexandra pleaded in wanting to know details. details of an extravagant night that didn’t happen.

“we share a hotel room,” they gasped. your hands thrown up in defense. “not like that! he gets two bedrooms for us.”

the girls settled, not looking entirely pleased.

“besides,” you sighed. “we’re friends. he doesn’t see me like that.”

so confident

alexandra and rebecca burst out in a laugh. “are you serious?” alexandra wondered.

you bristled, brow raised, wondering what she meant. “yes…?”

rebecca sighed your name, “have you seen the way he looks at you–?”

“or how he follows you around like a puppy.”

“how he pays for everything for you.”

“oh! how he scares any man off who tries to talk to you.”

your mind went numb. is this true? you thought lando was like that with everyone– kind, considerate, conscious. but as you sat there considering their words, just wondering how much truth was attached to them.

“are…are you sure?” you hesitated about finding the answer. what would that mean for you?

“absolutely.”

“one hundred percent.” they said at the same time. so this is what they wanted to talk about.

shit. maybe you were blind. it had gotten tempestuous over the course of these last few months. his growing attentiveness, his softness, his eager eyes whenever you’d make him coffee in the morning. no one makes it as good as you, he’d say.

would it be so bad that you…weren’t upset with it? you loved being friends with lando. he was always there to listen to you, support you. he cherished your time together. but what if there was a slim chance that you were wrong? that you were in over your head?

the last thing you wanted was to be embarrassed.

“what do i do?”

the ferrari girlfriends exchanged looks.

────────────

lando qualified in fifth for the miami grand prix. you thought he did absolutely wonderful. it was a close quali, he was pushing his car to its limits, but it wasn’t enough in the final stretch. a sigh left you as you were watching the tv, lily at your side.

oscar placed just below lando at sixth. “i don’t get it,” you said.

lily looked at you, confused.

“they should be faster. mathematically, i mean.”

lily was an engineering graduate. the question you brought forth had her perking up. you could see the cogs turning in her head.

“the physical body of the car offsets it.” she tapped her thumb against her elbow, arms crossed. she raised a hand to bite at her thumb, but you stopped her.

“you’re right. i don’t know–” you just had a weird feeling about this race. about lando. what rebecca and alexandra said…”lily.”

“yeah?”

“do…” you took a light breath in, suddenly intimidated by the answer you could receive. “do you think lando is in love with me?

a beat of silence.

“without a doubt.”

the mclaren plated with number four rolled into the garage. lando jumped out, taking off the neck guard, then his helmet. his hair had gotten longer this month. curls were starting to frame over his forehead. his stubble was more prominent. he was tanner. had his jawline always been that sharp?

he patted his engineer on the back but was looking for something. his eyes were darting all around the room, concern beginning to encompass his face. until he found you and lily, you, in the corner with her. you looked absolutely beautiful today. you had been worried about your outfit, wondering if the colors were too contrasting, or if they washed you out.

lando didn’t think there was any color that could wash out the beauty of your skin. you were too bright for that, always glowing.

when you saw him, you beamed. but it was different this time. the way he looks at you. how is he looking at me?

he took a few steps forward before you met him half way. your fingers found the zipper to his jumper, the action was new for you and lando. he welcomed it, looking down at you with a smile.

“you did amazing.” you breathed, undoing the zipper. though you couldn’t reach his eyes with your own. your hand shook against the zipper. he noticed, face falling with a slight frown.

“are you alright?”

“perfect,” you answered a bit too quickly. you still haven’t looked at him. you went to turn away, but he grabbed your elbow with a light grip.

“hey, look at me.” he pleaded, voice entirely too soft and gentle for your state right now. the way he follows you around like a puppy. but why did you blush? why did you fiddle with your fingers, bite your lip?

you looked up into those lovely pools of green. they shimmered so elegantly. your breath caught in your throat.

“what happened? did–”

“do you want dinner tonight?” you blurted, suddenly feeling stupid and small. you kept shrinking with each passing second that he didn’t answer. little did you know, he felt like the earth was flipped on his head. was he dreaming? did you ask to have dinner with him? surely you just meant with all of your friends…

“we always have dinner,” he said with a light laugh. you felt shivers creep up your arms. Goosebumps.

“me. just you and me.”

“oh.” oh? that’s all that lando could say? yes. that was it. his brain was short circuiting, unsure of what you were inferring. was there a deeper meaning to this? was he thinking too hard? you’ve gotten dinner just the two of you before. but not in a long time.

he was absolutely speechless as he looked at you, heart racing in his chest. It was just about to pop out when you opened your mouth to retract your statement and apologize.

“what’s the dress code?” he bit his lip to hold back his childlike grin.

“fancy.” you snipped back, feeling entirely too giddy that he seemed to come alive once again. you thought he would reject the idea, a part of you hoped that he did– silly, right? but you were terrified of confrontation. confrontation that rebecca and alexandra could be right.

“fancy?” he said, taking a step closer to you.

“did i stutter?” your tone was playful as you raised your brows. his tongue got caught on his teeth as he pursed his lips.

“wanted to make sure i get to see you in a dress.” the comment slipped from his lips easily, suavely. you blushed again. he noticed, surely. it was a rare occurrence that you blushed, even rarer for him to be the reason. what was this feeling in his chest? pride? pride that he could be the one to make you bashful. he felt like a king, wanting to conquer the skirts of your heart.

“maybe i’ll let you pick it out.”

lando’s face couldn’t light up any further. what did he do to award such treatment? such…such…god, he was entirely enamored with you. there was not a moment that went by that he didn’t wish you were his. he wanted this to be the norm. whatever it was. was it a date? was he supposed to hold your hand, kiss you? god, god, god, if he got to kiss you…

“deal.”

you were back in the hotel in an instant. the clock read 6pm, and you told lando no later than 7:30. both of you were in the kitchen filling up your bottles of water, cracking jokes between each other. when you were refreshed and relaxed, you spoke.

“still picking my dress?” you lead him to the door to your room, opening it for him. he followed behind you without a second thought. his eyes weary, glossy. like he was about to cry or something.

you stood at the doorway to the room. it was a chaotic mess of clothes, ruined sheets, open bottles of water. if lando noticed the state, he didn’t say anything. thank god.

but he did

lando was keen on noticing every detail of how you lived. your habits. it was the only way he could figure out how your mind worked– the spectacular thing that it was. he turned his head over his shoulder to you, gesturing towards the closet. you nodded.

he opened the door to the closet, dresses hanging by the dozens. damn, the stylist really put her money’s worth, didn’t she? rather his money, but if it meant for you to look jaw-droppingly stunning, who was he to complain?

the british driver ran his fingers through the numerous dresses before him. different combinations of cotton, silk, satin. they all felt different at his fingertips, yet you would always be sweet to him. but something else caught his attention–

a lace bodice piece, lingerie, that hung low from a hanger. he waited a beat. another. he pulled it with both his hands, showing you the hanger with a curious, raised brow.

you flushed.

never in your life did you run as fast as you just had. you tried to snatch the hanger from him, but he held it high above your head. he was laughing.

“lando!” you screeched, trying to climb up his body to reach it. it only incited a more intense laugh from him. he hummed.

“what’s this for, then? hmm?”

“i–” you stuttered, not really being able to know what to say. “she gave it to me!” the stylist.

his laugh quieted. “did she?”

“yes! if, you know, i dunno–” you rubbed your arms together anxiously. “if i ever met a guy. or something. it was stupid!”

you tried to get it back from him. he didn’t relent. you stomped your foot.

“lan, please…” you whispered, looking up at him with his unreadable stare. lando was always the type to know how he felt through his eyes, but now…you didn’t know what you were looking at.

“did you?”

“did i what?” you huffed, crossing your arms.

“meet a guy?”

you looked away, embarrassed. “no. not like i was trying, though.”

he relaxed, noticeably.

keeping all these guys away from you…

“it was just a fun idea. now will you pick something? else i’ll change my mind.” you threaten him. he hung the lingerie piece back up, surrendering instantly.

you headed to the on-suite bathroom, starting to get ready for your night out. though his tone echoed in your mind– “did you?” – he sounded…deflated. bested, by some indomitable force. you had a growing epiphany that the ferrari girls were right, and you were just too damn scared to admit that such a beautiful man could be interested in you of all people.

lando knocked on the door frame, watching as you finished up your look. you glanced at him through the mirror, then turning to see the dress he held. it was a long, black dress with lace flowers embroidered into it. it even had sleeves, lace ones, that could keep you warm with the miami breeze. it got rather chilly when the sun went down.

his choice was rather impressive. dare you say that you liked it. you grabbed the fabric piece from him, taking it off the hanger and leaving it on the counter. it was beautiful– must’ve cost a fucking fortune– breathtaking, though.

did you even deserve to wear something so elegant?

“gimme a sec,” you said, shooing him out of the bathroom before you changed. the dress slipped on with ease, much to your shock. but its downside–the zipper. you tried for about three seconds to get it up in the back, but you gave up.

you opened the door.

“lan?” you called for him, voice whimpering for his attention. he shifted from your bed, scrolling on his phone. he looked up immediately, eyes widening at the site before him. you were absolutely breathtaking. his hands twitched, desperate to touch you.

and you weren’t opposed, you thought, given your insolence towards any patience you had for the zipper. ‘test the waters,’ is what alexandra had said to you when you asked her for advice. ‘see how he reacts.’ rebecca followed up.

testing the waters

that’s what you were doing

you turned your back to him, shimmying out of the bathroom. “zip me?”

“yeah. yeah of course.” he launched to his feet. the dress was so low down the curve of your back. he wanted to trace your spine with his fingers. he was gentle with his touch, warm to the skin. you absentmindedly leaned into him, back arching.

he zipped the piece with ease, letting his fingers trace the back of your neck. you shivered, goosebumps crawling up your shoulders. he felt them, quickly glancing at the side of your face to gauge your reaction. was he going crazy? your body was so receptive to him. it was addictive.

you pulled away. his hands felt empty, your back felt cold.

“thanks,” you smiled bashfully, unable to look him in the eyes. so fucking cute, he thought. “go get dressed, will you? i’m getting hungry.”

lando bolted from the room, and you managed a short laugh to yourself. while you were alone, you glanced at yourself in the mirror. you still felt entirely undeserving of such a gown.

you slipped on your shining black heels and had to adjust to their feeling. you were never good at walking in them, but this tour was a playground for you to learn how. you wanted to learn. you felt badass walking around like you had pointy claws.

in your hands was a matching leather clutch, simple and handheld. you waited patiently for lando, though it took him barely no time at all to look so put together.

you heard the clink of his loafers before he made himself known. turning around, you got a good look at the man you’ve gotten to know over these past few months.

it was chilling the way your body electrified. heat pooled in your lower belly, tingling with lust. he was dressed in a black dress shirt, few buttons undone revealing his chains, with a black jacket and taupe pants. his loafers were black with a silver buckle at the center of each shoe.

he was fiddling with the cufflinks at his jacket when he noticed you gawking at the shape of his abdomen, to his exposed neck. he didn’t want to say a word, afraid that it’d break your moment of admiration. that you would never look at him in such a…virtuous manner.

but he could never control his tongue.

“my eyes are up here, darling.” you snapped your head up, blushing. you crossed your legs over each other, leaning against the kitchen isle.

darling

you were caught red handed. there’s no point in pretending. your blood burned hot in your veins, the petname coming as second nature from his lips. you wanted to hear it again.

“didn’t know you cleaned up so well.” you pushed off of the isle with ease, waiting for him to join your side. “used to all the sweat and pajamas.”

he tsked at you, sheepish at your witty remarks. he hoped that no matter what it would always be like this; you and him, full of banter and fun.

“and you look…agreeable.” his smile was bright, mischievous. you pushed his arm away as he came to rest his hand on your lower back. “kidding!”

he lowered his voice and connected your eyes with his. “you’re breathtaking.”

and for the first time, you believed him.

────────────

the restaurant he chose was more than you could imagine. with high ceilings, a valet, lights in the shape of mystical orbs strung together on the walls. the floors were made of marble, the tiling on the sidings were matte black.

but lando didn’t give a fuck about the decorations. he was staring at you. you in your beautiful dress, carrying yourself so elegantly. you were born to fit into this life, whether or not you believe you deserve it. he would do anything to prove that you did. that you were worthy of every dime he spent.

“right this way, madam.” the waiter ushered you, but you didn’t move until you held out your hand for lando to grab. you’ve never asked him to sober.

he didn’t hesitate, never did, and latched onto your hand with a warming grip. you tugged him along through the restaurant while he kept getting distracted from you and how you walked so well in those high heeled shoes. he remembers a time when you couldn’t. and look at you now.

the waiter seated you at your two person table. lando pulled out the chair for you. you smiled appreciatively.

“aren’t you the gentleman.” you acknowledged his kindness, his face brightening as he seated himself with ease. he pulled into the table, leaning over it. you did the same, eager to meet his face with a bashful smile and your hands rubbing together.

lando looked nervous, but most of all happy. he is happy. to be sitting here with you, in your presence, and most of all, you wanted to be here with him. he didn’t miss how you leaned towards him, your legs crossing over one another as the point of one of your heels grazed his knee.

“so tell me,” he picked up his water glass, taking a sip. you watched the way his adam’s apple bobbed, the water running through him. you gulped. “why dinner?”

your hand touched the back of your neck. “‘m not allowed to want to spend time with you?”

“didn’t say that, did i?” he placed the glass down. “all this, i mean–” he gestured to your dress, his shirt, the restaurant. “you tryin’ to tell me something, darling?”

one of your fingers ran over your lip. darling. god, it sounded so good coming from him. it put you in such a state of heaven, feeling entirely weightless in his presence. you were staring at him speechless, before you heard a clatter of glass behind you. you were ripped from the safety of your trance.

“maybe,” you muttered, looking away for him briefly before attempting to switch the topic. “anyways-”

“what was that?” he said languidly, the softness of his tone unrecognizable. his eyes were blown wide, taking in every subtle movement that you made. you felt like you were under a microscope being analyzed by his prerogative. you felt stripped bare– but that wasn’t such a bad thing, was it? no. no it wasn’t. the thought had you blushing. what weren’t you blushing about today?

“the race,” you continued on, disregarding his questioning. “are you nervous?”

he leaned back in his chair in defeat. fine, if she wanted to play it that way. he knew exactly what you said. but he wanted to hear it again. he will hear it again if it is the last thing he ever hears. you said “maybe” and didn’t brush him off with a scoff. his advances towards you had always been playful and light, but you never indulged him so…earnestly. he was caught off guard. in fact, he’s been caught off guard…a lot these past few days. something has shifted–

but what?

“am i supposed to be?” he wondered. you never really asked him those kinds of things. he always had your full reassurance.

“no. it’ll be just like any other, won’t it?” you felt like you were talking out of your fucking ass. you, all of a sudden, didn’t know how to talk to your best friend. it was gibberish, dry, god, how the fuck did he put up with you beforehand?

you began fidgeting with your fingers. his eyes latched on the movement.

“are you nervous?”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, unable to look at him. you didn’t know he leaned in again until you felt his knees bump with yours. you jumped, but sunk into his light touch.

“i dunno– no? no, why would i be nervous?” you continued fidgeting. “it’s just…it’s all so dangerous, isn’t it? i’ve done the math before. at your speed if–”

“hey.” he cut you off, grabbing both your hands. “hey.” he breathed, looking at you with his widened, sparkling green eyes. your hands were sweaty against his, a byproduct of your anxiety, but he didn’t seem to care when he brought them to his lips, gracing you with a sweet kiss on the top of your palms.

your breath hitched in your throat.

“didn’t know that you worried about me so much.” he gave you a light laugh, his eyes crinkling with a smile. he bit his lip.

“what? of course i do,” you looked at him in disbelief, your hands still held in his. “i mean– why wouldn’t i? we’re friends, aren’t we?”

‘aren’t we?’ was branded into lando’s heart. he swallowed, pulling back and letting your hands fall to the table. “‘course we are.”

“you are both such a beautiful couple.” your waiter approached. you bristled, glanced quickly to lando, and an idea bloomed in your head. test the waters, the girls said. “what can i get for you lovebirds?”

lando sat up straight to correct him, but you stopped him. “you are too kind,” polite smile was gracing as you ran your fingers over the menu. “what are the specials?”

lando’s jaw dropped. he shut it before the flies flew in, but he wouldn’t forget this. no amount of alcohol or fantasies could recreate that feeling. this feeling. you glanced at him while you were ordering, puckering your lips.

god, he wanted to kiss you. Ruin you. make you his.

dinner went smoothly despite a perpetuous tension lingering over the pair of you. you’ve never fiddled so much before with anything; your dress, napkin, glass. but you were still there with him, and he always knew the perfect way to make you laugh. you wanted to kiss him that night, beneath the glimmer of the moon, but you couldn’t do it. you couldn’t muster the courage to break the barrier.

but you would, in time.

on your way out of the restaurant you were keen on grabbing his hand first. you felt him tense and he covered his mouth with his free hand, surely hiding a cheeky smile.

the cameras were flashing when you came down the steps. you’d be trending on every social media platform, especially with how bright your smile was, and how tightly you gripped his hand.

────────────

race mornings were always chaotic. but you somehow managed to make it to the track at the end of the f2 race with lando at your side. In the mclaren hospitality room, you straightened his collar of the fireguard, taking a deep inhale of his subtle cologne and natural scent. you felt dizzy, struck by the desire to run your hands over his chest.

your touch lingered longer than it normally did. he noticed. what didn’t he notice?

especially after your stunt last night. he didn’t get a wink of sleep. he was up all night staring at his phone, watching the pictures light up his feed. he wasn’t embarrassed, shocked, nor ashamed. the british driver was entirely elated. with your graceful composure, assuredness in holding him at your side.

he scrolled through the comments, too, but there was not one negative thing he could find. spare a few comments that he had to bite his tongue on responding to, you were gaining an overwhelming amount of support from his fans.

your fans.

there were accounts made in your honor. outfit accounts, update accounts, people with your face as their profile picture. he scrolled through every one of them. he was maddeningly obsessed.

but what changed? why were you acting this way? not that he was upset by this change…but your inability to tell him…tell him what was going on frightened him. he felt anxious.

“what’s going on with you?” he brought his face closer to yours, lowering his voice so no one else could hear the both of you.

“nothing. it’s nothing.” your tone was hastened, weary.

“it doesn’t sound like–”

“we’re ready for you, lando.” his engineer interrupted the two of you with a polite smile.

the british driver sighed.

you placed your hands on his chest. “i’m fine.” though it did little to soothe his woes.

he looked at you weary eyed, brows turnt upward with concern. he didn’t believe you.

“i just…” your hand trailed up his neck, thumb caressing his bottom lip. he stayed perfectly still beneath your fingertips. “really want you to win.”

you placed a soft kiss on his opposite cheek.

“you got this, lan.”

he kissed your thumb that was on his lips and said nothing else before he jumped into the mclaren.

────────────

you were on absolute edge the entire race. it was an uphill battle. you’ve never been seen so anxious with your headset on, tapping your feet anxiously against the concrete. arms crossed over your chest, it was down to the last few laps. lando had been hard running in first.

first. lando was in first.

you could feel this in your blood. he was born for this.

and when he crossed that fucking finish line, you’ve never felt so much joy in your entire life.

he yipped and punched his fist in the air, his screams were pure music to your ears.

his engineers came to pat you on the back, gauging your all too excited reaction. lily was at your side, too, jumping and giving you a hug.

lando jumped from his parked car, ripping off his helmet and neck guard. he was on top of the fucking world when he jumped atop the crowd of mclaren workers, them holding him up with ease and chanting his name.

you stood beside lily, hand covering your mouth to stifle your sobs. you couldn’t be more proud of him than in this moment.

he caught your eye from above the crowd, watching the tears fall down your face. when he jumped off his celebratory pile, he ran over to you.

you threw your arms around his neck, launching yourself against him. he caught you, he always would, and held you tight. he would never let you go. never. your tears wet the base of his neck.

“lando…” you said into his race suit that smelled of burnt rubber and sweat. you didn’t care. this was your lando.

he pulled back, looking at you with concern. it was a characteristic look for him these past few days.

but you wanted that to go away.

you wanted nothing but his happiness. his joy. his passions. to see him on top of the world. but you wanted to be right there with him, side by side.

your lips were on his before he blinked. he was taken back, surprised, and face dripping in sweat. your hands gripped around his muscular neck, tugging him to you. you wanted more. you wanted this. this over anything. him over anything.

he returned your kiss when he was done pinching himself. your lips were entirely too sweet. luckily he had a sweet tooth.

his hand cupped the back of your head, tilting you towards him for a better, deeper angle. you moaned into him as he sucked on your bottom lip, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. you were floating, floating in the world of lando norris. you never wished to return to the ground.

but you did. the cheers around you got louder. you realized you would too if this kept up.

the new grand prix winner wasn’t finished, though, when his free hand gripped your hip. you stifled a giggle by smiling into his mouth, catching your breath. “lan,” you chuckled.

“don’t tell me this is a dream.” he had tears swelling in his eyes, lips plump from your kiss. “i might just have to–”

you cupped his cheek.

“real.” you assured him. “i’m real. this–” you brought his gloved hand to your heart. “is real.”

he bit his lip, though it did little to conceal his smile.

“drink some champagne for me.”

he kissed you once more. a telltale we aren’t done.

and you sure as hell weren’t.

────────────

“don’t understand why we’re celebrating out there,” lando gestured to the door as you were putting your heels on in a hurry. “when we could be here.” he pulled you to him, your back flushed against his chest. you leaned into him, sighing.

“because your friends want to celebrate,” you finished putting on your shoes. “me included.”

lando’s hand tightened around your waist. “you’re not my friend.”

your brows upturned when you spun around to face him. your expression was sickeningly innocent. “‘m not?” your hands landed on his chest, turning your head to the side with fluttering lashes.

��absolute minx,” lando seethed with a hearty laugh, leaning in to kiss you. your noses brushed together, his lips coming to graze yours. but you smiled and pulled away from him before he could taste your lipstick.

he made a move to pull you back to him by your elbow, but you gave him a look. “we’re going to your celebrations, lan. don’t care what you have t’say.”

he groaned, his head falling forward to your shoulder. your hands raked through his hair, down the back of his neck. he practically purred like a fucking kitten under your fingertips.

“and as far as i know,” you kissed his temple. “we’re still friends. haven’t asked me to be your girlfriend, did you?” your hands curled in his hair, pulling him to meet your eye. he bit his lip, blushing!

“you’re blushing, baby!” you cooed, reaching to squeeze one of his cheeks.

“can’t blame me,” he muttered, head darting back into the crook of your neck and leaving soft kisses down to your collarbones. “the most beautiful woman has her hands all over me…what am i supposed to do with m’self?” he chuckled and you felt his teeth against your sensitive skin. you sucked in a breath with a smile.

“ask her,” you lowered your voice, whispering into him. “i’m sure she’ll say yes.”

“would she?” his head perked up, flushed and warm from your neck.

“in every universe, lan.” your humorous tone turned serious. he gulped, adam’s apple bobbing when he felt the weight of your words. “you know that gravity is the only force that can travel through any dimension? any time, any place, it will be found.”

he was listening to you intensely, voice cracking as he spoke. “i would find you.”

your eyes widened at him.

“through any black hole, space phenomena, wormhole,” his breath fanned your cheeks. “i’ll always find you.”

you leaned in to kiss him. he met you halfway, swallowing your mouth with his. you let him push you up against the counter, your hand gripping the ledge so you didn’t tumble over. you opened your mouth and his tongue slipped in without hesitating. he explored the corners of your mouth, the shapes of your teeth, your own tongue.

your moan was deep from your chest when you felt his hand start to slip up your thigh. his pinky scathing the fabric of your thin underwear. you gasped when he ran trailed over your cunt, already wet and swollen under his touch.

"all for me, baby?" he chuckled into your neck, soothing your cunt of its tumultuous ache.

you nodded, but that wasn't enough.

"words. need words."

"fuck. yes, lan, all for you." you moaned when he flexed a finger inside of you, the sweet burn was tender to your growing coil in your belly. but things just can't go smoothly, can they?

you were brought back to earth when your phone began to ring. fuck.

you tried pushing lando off of you, but he grumbled against your lips. you smiled, but detached from him. “lan,” he shook his head, refusing to let you go. “lan, it’s probably everyone wondering where you are.”

“don’t care.”

“you should.”

“don’t.” his mind didn’t change, finger still exploring you before you shook him off.

you kissed the tip of his nose. “we won’t stay for long, okay? besides…”

there was a sheepish look on your face. “i have a boyfriend to show off.”

lando didn’t need to be told twice to get you swept off your feet and into his car.

────────────

the entire drive there his hand was on your thigh, so high that he traced the lining of your black laced underwear with his pinky. you gripped his wrist tightly, but said nothing the entire ride there.

when you pulled up, a valet man opened the door for you. you stepped out and were met with ten times the amount of flashing cameras that you were used to. you got this. with a straight posture and elegant– as elegant as you could muster– composure, you waited for lando to meet at your side.

you weren’t disappointed when you felt his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowds. shouts were sent your way, his way; “lando! lando! is this your girlfriend? are you dating? what’s her name?”

he made sure to answer only one question with your nod of approval before he climbed the steps to the nightclub.

“lando! is this your girlfriend?”

“yes,” he said with his charming nature, turning back to look at you, starstruck by your beauty. you smiled back at him, hand caressing his chest. the cameras went wild at your natural pose with each other.

inside the club was much better. with a restricted guest list of close friends and family, you were at ease. when you entered you were met with all three of your closest girlfriends. lily, rebecca, and alexandra. they squealed when they saw you, sprinting in your direction leaving their boyfriends in distress by their absence.

“congratulations, lando!” lily said upon her arrival first, then glancing to you. “and an even more congratulations is in order? are you fucking kidding me!” she said with utter glee. you leaned further into lando’s side if that was possible. he relaxed at your touch, hand loose at your hip.

“i knew it.” rebecca said with certainty.

“she really did,” alexandra confirmed.

you rolled your eyes at the pair of them.

“i’ll get us drinks, baby.” lando whispered into your ear, his nose jutting against your hair. he gave you a kiss to your head and departed from your side, meeting up with the guys, too.

“tell us everything!” alexandra jumped up and down.

“there’s not much to tell.” you shrugged, hands thrown up in defense. “i just thought about what you said. you were right. i was so, so blind.” wasted time was a fear of yours.

“we’re proud of you anyways. have you seen all the paparazzi for you?” rebecca opened her phone, scrolling endlessly through her timeline. “i fucking hate you. you look perfect in every one of them.”

“oh please,” you brushed her off. “have you looked in a mirror, becca?”

it was a stellar night. you found yourself on the dance floor shortly after with your favorite drink in your hand, per lando’s stellar memory of your order.

without another moment longer, your hips were moving over lando’s on the dance floor, his hands loose on your hips as he ran them up and down your body. you decided you weren’t going to have more than one drink tonight, preferring to remember every moment of this celebration.

the song was a bumping rap tune, easy to follow along with your suave moves. “suave,” you were just letting loose against your now boyfriend. the word was still foreign to you, but you felt increasingly giddy at the mention.

lando, though? he was a changed man. not only did your kiss bring him ultimate luck before his race, he now has you at his side. he’ll do anything to keep you there. fuck, how did he get so lucky? he had a feeling something was going on, but never would he think it would be your lips on his after his race. he can still taste your tears.

you cried for him the entire time he was up on that podium, absolutely relishing in the national anthem played in his honor. and he could only keep his eyes on you. your glittering, magnificent eyes that sparkled beneath the miami sun. they sparkled for him, only him, on this marvelous day.

and he would let everyone know that you shined for him. that you were his. while he may have won his first race, you were better than any trophy he could ever get.

eventually, everyone raised their glasses for lando and cheer’s to his victory. you held your glass high, downing the entire thing. he did the same, only keeping to a few so he could see you as clear as day. he felt the same way…he never wanted to forget a moment with you.

you faced him now, body still swaying to the music. with your chest brushing against his, you felt a growing heat over your neck. as the night went on, the sweatier lando became. the more his tanned skin glowed beneath the hue of the lights. the more his cologne pumped through your nose. it was impossible to not be intoxicated by him, drunk on his affection.

with your hands gripping his neck, you looked up to him through your hooded eyes, a look that he wished he could take a fucking picture of.

“what?” he said into your ear.

you only shifted closer into him if that was possible.

“need me, baby?” he chuckled low and wicked. you shifted on your feet, tightening your legs together. you almost did before lando stuck his leg out, having you tightened around him.

you nodded rapidly into his neck, clutching the fabric of his shirt. it was an appropriate time to leave, too, given that many have already bid their goodbyes. lando was only sticking around for you, after all. “please,” you whimpered into his ear, mouth wetting the skin beneath his chin.

“fuck.” he cursed, maneuvering your body towards the exit with ease. his hands felt so good around you. you wanted them everywhere all the time.

you bid your farewells to your friends with haste, feeling a slight guilt for leaving so…suddenly.

but lando didn’t.

the drive back to the hotel took no time at all, lando blowing through every fucking stop sign and light that came in his direction. his hand was firm on your thigh this time, white knuckling the steering wheel. you stared at him, his side profile. he was too irresistible like this–needy, urgent– so you leaned over to kiss the side of his face, down his neck with sensual, puckering kisses.

he leaned his head back, giving you access to his thick neck. you had no idea how he kept focus on the road, but you had full faith in him to get back unscathed.

“i know, baby,” he sighed, low and deep. “almost there.”

pulling into the valet, you opened the door yourself. lando threw the keys up in the air to the doorman and proceeded to rush you through the lobby. you couldn’t contain your giggles when he kept pressing the elevator button over and over.

“that doesn’t make it any faster, you know.” you commented, your own foot tapping against the cool marble of the ground.

“i’ll show you fast, baby, watch your mouth.” chills ran up your spine. your legs clenched together again and you couldn’t meet his eye.

bastard.

when the elevator opened, you shuffled inside and he had you against the wall before you could catch your breath. his lips attacked yours, moving down to your jawline, peppering your neck with slower, intense kisses. you moaned, biting your lip to conceal the sound the best you could.

he moved to your chest, your collarbones being the first to be victim of his biting kiss. he would bruise the skin atop your breasts, marks for only him to gawk at. it looks like you won’t be getting any miami sun any time soon. or ever if his swirling tuck keeps suckling against your skin.

“fuck, lan.” you whimpered, looking down at him below you, hands cupping his neck in place. he would happily be imprisoned by you like this. he would never go hungry.

he groaned at your breathless response, adhering heavily to his actions as he didn’t miss an inch of your skin with his sloppy kisses. you pulled at the curly hair of his scalp that had his eyes rolling back into his head. you watched the delectable sight, your panties becoming increasingly damp as the seconds rolled by.

the doors to your floor opened. lando didn’t move for a moment. you pulled his head back from his devouring of your skin. “you’re fucking me in your bed or not at all.”

“you’re the death of me, darling.”

you were swept across the floors of your hotel, lando fumbling with the key to the room anxiously. you kissed up his neck in anticipation until the door clicked open and you were practically tossed inside. he slammed the door shut, throwing the “do not disturb” sign on the handle. not a soul would bust in on the two of you.

you were ripping off your heels and throwing them across the floor before you were latched onto him again. but it didn’t last long until you wanted more. you weren’t going to fuck him in this kitchen, either. you were going to do it right, despite your hazy mind and actions.

lando chased after you like a mad man. you squealed running through the hotel room on your tip toes until you burst open the door to his place. the bed sheets were ruffled, clothes on the floor, and it smelled like him. you bit back a moan at the sight, lando’s chest meet your back.

his lips were back on your neck, your shoulders. he tore through the fabric of your dress, undoing the zipper with methodical fingers. the gown fell to the floor, leaving your chest bare and your panties thin and otherworldly.

you were ethereal.

there wasn’t an ounce of shame inside of you when you spun around to face him. his hands were running up and down your bare skin, feeling how soft you were. a cuss fell verbosely from his lips, like honey.

you backed away from him with an enticing look, swaying your hips before you fell backward on his bed, hands threading over your head. a palm came down to trace down your sternum, your lower belly, the hem of your dampened panties.

lando watched you through his darkened eyes, almost black with desire. black holes. they sucked up the light around them, absorbing it without second thought. you wanted nothing more than to be absorbed by him. wholly.

he stalked towards you like a hunter, back straight with his lip caught between his teeth. he wanted to ravage you right here– tear the underwear from your hips, fuck you into another dimension, but he would resist. all he wanted was to savor this moment, this vision, of you laying out before him, bare and vulnerable. all for him. you trusted him with your intimacy, your touches. he’d do nothing more to keep you like this.

the british driver stood over you, your legs coming to squeeze together until his knee shoved its way through. your thighs dangled over the edge of the bed, burning with the scorching heat of your core.

one of his fingers came down to run over your chest, your nipples, your abdomen. you squirmed at his teasing touch, feeling everything and absolutely nothing at once. you mewled deep within your throat, begging for more.

he stopped at the band of your underwear, latching the same finger beneath it and drawing his hand back. the fabric peeled away with ease, your cunt glistening at his will. he noticed, of course, nostrils flaring with a tense angst of lust. no woman had looked as beautifully sinful as you have. you were a blessing and a curse– the most angelic devil he’s ever met.

“beautiful,” he cooed, trailing two fingers over the crease of your thighs, over the lips of your pussy. you whined again, shifting your hips to get him to touch you where you needed him. badly. he tsked, at your impatience.

it took him all of a second to launch atop of you, his turn to cage you in with his toned arms. you watched as his veins pulsed, blood running viciously hot through his body. it had you glancing down at the outline of his cock through his pants, the indent firm and mesmerizing.

you salivated, a string of drool leaking from your mouth. he wiped it away with his thumb and a chuckle, looking at you from his elevated position above you. “soon, sweet girl.”

that was enough for you right now. his lips attached to your chest once more, spots already swollen and bruising with his previous attack. he moved to your breasts, cupping them in his palms, kneading the flesh. it felt heavenly to be beneath him like this– you never thought you could be so vulnerable with a man like this before.

the british driver’s mouth moved to your opposing nipple, latching onto it with his tongue swirling over the sensitive bud. you whined, mouth opening for a loud gasp at the curdling sensation. you felt that feeling in your lower belly, a white hot coil that was desperate to snap.

you were so soft beneath his touch. he could mold you, bruise you for his own gawking at a later date. and you wanted him to. you were his and he was yours. nothing could change that now.

he moved to the other breast, not daring to neglect any part of you. it was euphoric how delectable this was. you’ve never been touched so intimately. no one has cared this much about your pleasure. but to lando, it was everything.

his gospel was on your pleasures.

“lan, lan please,” you whimpered, squirming beneath him when he wasn’t between your thighs yet. “need you so bad.”

“i know baby,” he said into the skin of your belly. you felt his smirk. he kept trailing down and down. “so pretty,” he sighed, coming face to face with your folds, swollen and beating for his touch.

you clenched around nothing, and the desperation has never been so poignant.

and then his tongue was on you, spreading you wide. you gasped, so responsive to his touch, and grappled onto the curly strands of his hair. he was deliberate with his touches, fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs. his tongue drilled into you, curling upward that had you biting back your moans. despite your efforts, it was a failure. you were slack jawed and squirming beneath him. his grip tightened around your thighs in response, surely bruising the skin.

he tongued every corner of your pussy, swiping over your clit once that had you jolting upward. he memorized the spot, stimulating you to the point where the coil began to itch to snap.

there was no hope for you when he was getting impatient and added a finger to rub circles on your clit, his tongue continuing to thrust in and out of you. pleasure would build and build, rising to an ultimate bliss when he found that sparkler inside of you.

at the angle he caressed with his tongue, you bucked your hips into him further. you felt him chuckle into you, his throat vibrating with such a cocky sound. he found a spot that made you fucking tick and you were entirely at his disposal.

he abused the motion of his fingers, the assault of his tongue. you felt entirely undone by him, progressively getting tighter and tighter at his motions. “come on, baby…” he spoke into you. you couldn’t help the uncontrollable arch of your back. “you’ll be a good girl and come for me, won’t you?”

yes, yes! your mind shouted, fingers hanging onto his hair for dear life. you moaned, soaking further with his words of encouragement, eyes rolling back into your head. ‘course you needed him to talk you through it. how silly of lando with such an oversight. “so good, lan…”

“i’ve got you,” he uttered. “fuck baby, so pretty f’me. come on now,” and you needed nothing more than his sweet praise brushing past your ears to have the coil inside of you snap.

you saw stars as you came on his tongue, sweet nectar filling his mouth with a gulp. he kissed every part of you, cleaning you with his tongue. you watched, weary eyed, amazed by how hot the action was. your pussy clenched. he felt it. glancing up at you from his position on his knees.

“taste so good, sweet girl.” he cleaned up the excess from your plump folds with two fingers, bringing them towards your mouth.

you opened your mouth on cue, his eyes widening with awe. you were fucking perfect. lips latching onto his plush fingers, you sucked them clean amply. you’ve never done such an act before, but it felt…natural. his dick was painfully hard in his pants, almost cumming at the sight of your lust filled eyes.

“my perfect girl…”

you whined, sitting up on your elbows and clenching your hand to etch him closer. he listened on command, climbing to you. it was his shirt, pants, socks, shoes, everything that was on him that bothered you.

fingers coming to yank at the hem of his shirt, he swiftly understood your nonverbal wishes. he tore his shirt over his head, throwing it to the corner of the room, and you fiddled with the belt of his jeans. your fingers worked fast and anxiously, throwing the damn belt across the room with a slap. he gripped your chin with a laugh as he loomed above you.

“want you,” you demanded of him in your sweet, cracked voice. he wouldn’t make you beg this time, pulling his garments down with a swift motion. his cock sprung free and up towards the skin of his lower stomach. you flushed. precum was seeping from his tip, dripping onto your thighs. fuck, you whimpered under your breath.

he didn’t settle for a grace period to settle from your orgasm. he wasn’t nearly finished with you. his hand came to cup the side of your face, your lips finding the skin of his palm. wet kisses covered the surface. he groaned. “you got me baby. relax for me, yeah?”

you nodded eagerly, unable to speak as you wiggled your hips from side to side. he bent over and continued to kiss gingerly down your neck, his tip teasing your swollen cunt. you gasped into him, pulling him close to you. he grumbled, finding this angle inadequate. soon enough your legs were over his shoulders with one swift movement.

lando dipped down for a kiss, his lips hot and feral against your own. soon enough, you felt him clamor inside of you. the stretch was invigorating, your entire body springing to life with his beating cock. “oh my god,” your head flew back into the sheets sinking inward as he felt too heavenly to be real.

“that’s it baby,” your cunt tightened around him with those sweet words. as he progressed further, you felt yourself fall further and further into pure bliss. you’d find no such place elsewhere, only in the comfort of his arms. you knew that to be certain. “taking me so well…”

you sucked in a breath, letting out a hoarse moan when he bottomed out inside of you, walls clenching entirely too tight and he thought he’d cum right then and there. but he withheld the best he could, promising to never cum before you did. he needed to see your face when you’d finish on his cock.

“fuck…move, move lan, need you.” you whined, adjusting extremely well to his size. he didn’t even need to prod you to beg for him, you were already a willing candidate. he always knew you would. your sweet eyes, droopy and dolled up for him at the races. he’d imagined these scene over and over in his head, and never once did it disappoint when he’d fist his cock. now you were here, and your cunt was even more heavenly than he imagined.

“anything, baby.” his pace was even and controlled, but you could see that he was tense. through your bedroom eyes, you could feel the tension through his cock. you appreciate the sentiment of taking it slow, but you knew how he was.

he liked to be fast.

“more,” you moaned, his head shooting up to look at you with surprise. you cupped his cheeks, flushed face begging him. “fuck me, lan. need you so fucking bad, please, please–”

he would burn the fucking world for you. you didn’t know it at that moment, but he had never been so in love with you than he has been before. he adhered to your wishes, losing the tension in his shoulders as he began a rough pace against your cunt.

it was his only goal to make sure you felt him in every part of your body. he stretched every corner of your walls, squeezing him at every increasing thrust. he explored you fully and promised to know every inch of you.

“taking me so well,” he grunted out, hips flexing in and out of you with an egregious pace. it was to your ultimate liking to get fucked so well by him.

“lan…” you drawed out in a moan, lost in the stars of his throttling pace. “you’re so good. so fucking–” your own pleasure cut you off, squealing when he shifted only slightly and had your core clenching him tight.

he let out a greedy snicker, knowing he found a spot that made you unbelievably tick. it was his to find, and his to use. you would know no better pleasure than what he awarded you.

“oh fuck–!” you yelped as your release continued to build, the tip of the iceberg in reach. lando felt it, too, with his own stomach tightening and desperate to cum inside of you. you were a trigger for all his desires, and it would be sent off with a singular please that could leave your lips. the power you held over him and didn’t even know it…

“always gonna make you feel good, baby.” he promised you, dipping his abdomen over yours for a deeper, tighter angle. you whimpered, unable to speak. he would do it for you as he kissed over your cheeks, your jawline.

his hand came to the column of your throat. your eyes flared with an undeniable attention and intrigue. you clenched around him, and he hadn’t even applied pressure. “always.” and you fucking believed him when his fingers swiped at the sides, applying the slightest pressure of his fingers to your airway. you fell lax against the sheets, trusting him with every part of your body. no one else would feel this way for him. no one except you.

your eyes swelled with hot tears, breaking when he was firmer with his grasp, even with his hard cock beaming in and out of you.

he lavished at the sight. he never knew he was so hungry up until now, starving for your affection, your pleasures. how perfect you were could never be summarized in words alone.

“i love you,” you sputtered out, breathless and flushed hot. lando’s pace didn’t falter, but his grip around your neck loosened.

“say it again,” he demanded, face pushing up into the crevice of your neck.

“love you so much, lando,” it was a promise you made to him. to yourself. he swore against your neck, his breath hot and humid against your skin.

“come for me. come on, my love.” his words were only encouraging you towards and ultimate release, your tears hot against your cheeks. “i’ve got you, i’ve got you baby. so good for me, aren’t you?”

“yes, yes!” you whimpered, coil of lust for the british driver snapping a second time, harder, bringing an entire galaxy into your vision. you traveled through time and with lando, you found yourself grounded together in every universe. this was home.

your cunt tightened, causing his pace to get sloppy, his own release parallel to yours. you milked him dry, panting and chests heaving together.

he fell on top of you, his full weight comforting against your wet skin. he didn’t pull out yet, too exhausted to find the effort.

“did you mean it?” i love you.

“yes.”

lando became shy as he found himself brushing your nose with his. “i love you, too. have for a long time.”

a long time

“i will love you in every life time,” you said, earning you the brightest smile that the driver could muster. a lifetime.

“a lifetime…” he repeated, in a daze. “love you so much…” he said your name into your cheek, giving you a plump kiss. “infinite lifetimes would never be enough.”

you peppered his face with kisses. this was your gravity. the force that kept you grounded throughout time. if you ever got lost in the cosmic reaches, you would be able to find him. find home. find the beacon of light that he provided.

you were safe here, and so was he. and does gravity know no bounds between objects. you would be attached to one another for the rest of your living days, and even further throughout the cosmos. and that was enough for you, for now.

────────────

weeps;;

i am also open for requests <3

3K notes · View notes

allophonicmess · 5 months ago

Text

Too Sweet

Logan Howlett x fem!Reader

Act 3

Warnings: spoilers for Deadpool & Wolverine

This is a fluff chapter. Gotta give you guys some candy after all that angst

Word count 4.1 K

Life resumed as normal after that. Or as normal as it could be when you are suddenly placed in the new timeline. Logan kept getting confused by little details that were different to the life he had lived before. Professor X ? Sure he exists but he had hair. Cyclops? Oh yeah. He was just as annoying as he remembered. Who are the fucking Avengers and what sort of rich nerd was Tony Stark? And what about Jean?

“A hot red head with the telekinetic powers?” Wade hummed, pretending to be lost in thought. “Uh, no. UNLESS! Charles used to have a beautiful flowing mane that I don’t know about. He is turning grey, you know… but it suits him. Silver fox”

So Jean was out of the picture. That was good, right?

Logan groaned at Wade's bad joke. He shifted his focus outside, watching the landscape change from looming tall skyscrapers to even fields and trees that started changing colour with the season. It reminded him of home.

“Just to get this straight.” Logan shifted in his seat. The car that Wade had bought from the dealership had been heavily discounted and Logan now understood why. You would think it can’t get worse than the Odyssey? Oh boy, were you wrong. It was too small for 4 people, let alone 2 mutant men. He already felt sorry for whoever might have to sit in the back for whatever reason.

“Y/N has powers?” Logan asked, trying to play it cool. The whole drive had been a big Q&A.

“Yup,” Wade said with a pop. One hand on the steering wheel and the rest of him laid back in his seat.

“They call her Osmium, too?” Logan didn’t like this dependency on the wanna-be hero. But he had to make a good first impression.

“Osmimimum? Uh no. She is called Atom” Wade laughed “Don’t if she actually does stuff with atoms… It's more like…” Wade groaned as he tried to think of an example.

“She manipulates density.” Logan pointed out. They had trained together many times. But Y/n was never allowed to use her full potential with the X-men. They condemned violence and so she was often left out on mission and focused on keeping the school running.

“Ugh- I guess? She once told me in great, boring detail why ‘Atom’ is a bad superhero name for her but they kept it for the marketability. “ He shrugged “Oh! I remember that one time we stopped a child-mutant trafficking and she got mad, like REAL MAD, and then she turned this one guy into goop.” Wade nodded fondly, thinking back at that moment. “And I mean like Nickelodeon kids choice award goop, like slurpable slushy goo, like-“

“Okay, alright! I get it.” Logan groaned in annoyance. Shaking his head at Wade. He was thankful for the man’s support and friendship but god was he annoying. Constantly.

“I wish she would do that to me sometime. It’s on my ways-to-die bingo. But she keeps refusing!” Deadpool hit the wheel dramatically.

“You are disgusting,” Logan stated dryly. “The most disgusting person I ever met.”

“Don’t forget the most annoying!”

...

The decision to go back to teaching was not made out of fun or for the joy of doing it. Maybe partially, even though Logan would not openly confess so. It was made out of necessity. Living with Wade and Al became tiresome after the first few weeks. It was always the same antiques, the lack of schedule as well as a constant state of chaos that made him crave the ordered life at the school once again. He hoped that it would give him a sense of belonging. The X-men might be different here, with a few quips and details that didn’t match with his reality. But living at the school would tie him to a strict schedule and by god, he needed some structure in his life.

But all in all, it meant home.

“Okay, peanut. Today is a big day. But I know you’ll do great and meet a lot of new friends.” Wade joked in a motherly tone as they arrived at the Mansion. “And no hair pulling or biting unless they ask for it, okay?”

“I can’t wait to be rid of you” Logan groaned as the car came to a halt. He exited the car with a low groan, stretching to lose stiffed muscles. Not having to constantly ride in Wade's joke of a car was another reason that he preferred living at Xavier’s Institution. Speaking off:

“There you are. Welcome, welcome.” Xavier rolled into the mansions yard.

“A pleasure to have you, Logan. I must say, I was very pleasantly surprised when I received your response to my inquiry.” He moved towards Logan, offering his hand for a handshake.

Logan inspected the man. He was older, in his 40s maybe. But younger than the Charles Xavier he had worked with. He sported shaggy longer hair that was starting to thin out. Soon he would need to get it trimmed to keep his professional exterior. Along with a beard that was rather spotty and seemed too reminisce of his look in the 70s. Xavier looked like a mix of the two versions that Logan got to meet during his time at the school and it made him wonder how time worked here. Events seemed to play out in different order, they didn’t happen at all or much later than seemed correct.

He shook Xavier’s hand, thanking him for the offer. “Of course. I was surprised when you contacted me.” Logan confessed. His gaze shifted towards the grand building in front of him. It was the same old English style build that he knew, with a few modern elements added here and there.

“Is it familiar to you? The school? I assume you have experienced quite a few dejá-vus since arriving here.” Charles observed Logan.

“I do. Some things are the same. Others don’t match what I know or didn’t happen at all.” He confessed. Already feeling the brother connection build, similar to the one he had with the other Charles.

“You will find your answers. I am sure of it.” Charles turned around motioning Logan to follow him inside. “I think it is best if we continue this conversation in my office.” He looked over his shoulder at Wade, who had waited in the car, listening in on the conversation.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll be on my way. You call me if you need to get picked up, Pookie!” He waved at Logan in a motherly way.

“You aren’t coming?” He asked, somewhat confused. But then he saw Charle’s face, the intense stare he gave Wade.

“Uhhh, no I technically have a house ban for no apparent reason-“

“You burned down the west wing” Charles answered dryly.

Wade clicked his tongue, “Right, okay. Yeah… But! It’s very modern now.” He chuckled weakly. “You’ll still call me up for a mission, right?” He tried to persuade the professor.

“If the mission takes place outside of my building then yes.” Charles agreed, focusing back on Logan. And leading him inside. Neither of them commented on the cheer that Wade gave as he drove off.

Being back at the school felt surprisingly good to Logan. It was like coming back from a long holiday. Most everything was the same: Students running in the hallways, playing games in the gardens and-

“Fancy seeing you here!”

Logan turned around quickly, looking for whoever addressed him. Some children were buzzing along the halls, none of them too interested in him. Then he spotted her by the stairs. Leaning onto the dark wooden rails of the gallery. The light from the window behind her illuminating her figure.

“Y/n”, he breathed.

“Hi! Charles told me that you wanted to start teaching again.” She made her way downstairs, focus shifting between not falling and keeping her gaze on him. She seemed pleasantly surprised to see him.

He turned more toward her, watching her get closer to ground level. With each step he felt his excitement grow “He contacted me, actually. Asked whether I wanted to work here…”

“Oh really? What a coincidence ”She grinned mischievously, stopping at the end of the stairs and leaning on one of the bannisters. She kept a little space between them. There might be some familiarity between them but she didn’t want to push him too far yet and give him the chance to get closer to her if he felt like it.

But Logan stayed in place: “Do you have anything to do with that?”

She smirked, and he felt some of his charm return to him . He might be rusty but some things were just engraved in him.

“Maybe” She shrugged, smiling softly with a playful sparkle in her eyes “But I’m assuming that you won’t be teaching history, right?” Y/n teased carefully. The multiverse situation was a thing she wanted to be careful about. Wade had told her a little bit about what had happened to Logan before he transferred but she didn’t know any details.

“No, I teach PE and defence classes. You do science, right?” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, hoping to lose the tension in his body. He threw the tidbit of knowledge into the conversation, hoping that he was right and that the two versions of her had that much in common.

“Chemistry and Literature, yeah.” She smiled. She then looked at her watch before pointing towards another corridor with a sigh “I’d love to talk more, but I need to get to class. Maybe we could meet sometime.” She secured the book in her arms.

“Yes.” He answered with a stiff nod, his hands were getting sweaty.

They stood In awkward silence.

“Maybe over a coffee?” She asked, looking up at him, her lip curled upwards. Her look became more expecting as he watched her in silence.

He would catch the bait she just threw, right? Scott had laughed when she asked him about what Logan had been like; What this version might be like.

‘He’s an asshole’ He said ‘a cocky asshole and who thinks he can charm any girl he likes’ she blushed at that comment ‘But he is into the dark, mysterious type if that is what you are after’

“Maybe”, Logan gave cold and curtly.

He regretted his demeanor when he saw her smile slip for just a moment.

Fuck.

Her face slipped for a moment “Oh.. okay.” She huffed softly. “See you around then.” Y/n nodded quickly before running off.

...

A routine established itself after the first weeks back at the school. The work there itself was the same. Teach the children standard curricula, training them in controlling their powers and some extracurricular activities.

He would spend some evenings with the other members of Team X ,as they called themselves here. Sometimes he would meet Y/n in the hallway but he didn’t work up the courage to stop and talk to her beyond a quick ‘hello’.

What is wrong with you? You used to sweep women off their feet. She is offering herself to you at any chance and you still can’t manage to ask her out?

He sighed as he changed back into his regular clothes. The class had just ended. It was Friday, still fairly warm for October and the trees looked beautiful in all shades of red, orange and yellow.

Would be perfect for a romantic walk… A charming, rugged man could ask a woman out for that.

“That guy died a long time ago…” He mumbled to himself. Picking up his bag and closing the locker.

He exited the gym, making his way to his room or rather apartment. Wade managed to burn down the teacher's quarters along with the kitchens and cafeteria in some wicked stunt. No one knew what happened and that was for the best, he guessed.

However, that incident resulted in a modernized reconstruction with more spacious rooms for the teachers and a communal cafeteria that students and members of Team X shared. Great for extroverts but Logan had to pass it every time he went to his rooms, much to his dismay. To make it worse, the communal space was separate from the hall via a glass wall, allowing for a perfect view of everyone who tried to sneak past. Which led to uncomfortable situations such as this.

“Logan!” Piotr called, waving his huge metallic arm to get the other man's attention. Logan's initial reaction was to ignore him as he had done many times with the members of his old team.

No, he wanted to do better. He needed to. It was that kind of behavior that made him spiral in the first place. So he took a deep breath and channeled all jolliness available to him after 6 hours of teaching and a generally low level of it to begin with. He slowly made his way towards the teacher's table.

“Come, eat with us.” Piotr offered him the seat next to him on the thick wooden bench. A seat opposite of… fuck- of fucking course he was in on Wade’s plan to play matchmaker.

“We can’t have you get scrawny, eh?” he joked.

“Not that that would be likely to occur” Y/n joked as Logan sat down. His look snapped towards her and her eyes widened in shock at what had just come out of her mouth.

A knowing, wicked grin spread across Colossus's face. That fucking asshole…

“What are we having?” Logan asked, ignoring the situation that had just occurred. He tried to keep his gaze on Piotr who was busy filling a plate with whatever was in the big metal pot on the side of the table. His eyes shifted to Y/n every so often.

“Pierogi. I am trying out new recipes for a cooking class with my students” He said proudly, placing the plate in front of Logan “Y/n said, they are very good. Right?” He asked her, putting the woman on the spot.

“Oh, uhm…yeah. I like the new… stuffing.” She said, the answer sounding more like a question, carefully looking at Logan when he tried it. She was thankful for Piotr’s brotherly demeanor and gentle nature. Yet sometimes he would tease her as any older brother liked to do. And they sure liked to do it in front of people that the younger sibling might fancy.

Logan nodded in agreement, complimenting the man for his cooking.

“You cook here regularly?” He asked with a mouthful.

“Of course! Cooking is a very important life skill. As well as baking. You should join one of Y/n’s baking classes, she is very talented.” Colossus complimented the woman, making her grin.

“I plan on holding a workshop on the weekend for older students and alumni. You should come.” She offered, a hopeful look in her eyes. Maybe she was too discrete the last time she tried to get Logan to ask her out. So this time she tried to be more direct with her offer.

“I don’t bake,” Logan answered in a backhanded comment as he continued to eat. He didn’t think too much about it. He had planned to ask her out after lunch. He was overly focused on what he would say to her once the others left to notice how he had sounded.

It only occurred to him when he saw how Y/n visibly deflated. “Oh, right” She hummed, swallowing another bite of her food, eyes looking anywhere but towards the man who had once again rejected her so swiftly.

Piotr, just sighed with disappointment, leaning back in his chair. His hard elbow bumped into Logan’s side.

You fucked it up. Again.

...

“Okay, stop. You mean to tell me that she tried to ask you out not once but TWICE and you rejected her?” Wade paced through the living room. Trying to make sense of what his friend had just told him. “You mean to tell me that you now spend 3 months at that school? Being in her proximity 24/7 and actively avoiding her?”

Logan sat on the familiar black couch that looked even more beaten up than the last time he was at the flat. With disgust, he realized that he didn’t even want to know what caused the new damage.

“I don’t avoid her”

“Oh no? And yet the few times she does catch you creeping in the halls you manage to scare her off.” Deadpool said down one of the rotatable bar chairs. Swirling dramatically.

“No wonder the girl’s not interested in a sad drunk fuck like you,” Al commented from the table where she sat, carefully packaging her newest acquisition of sellable goods.

“ No, Al that’s the thing! The girl wants him DESPITE being a sad drunk fuck!” Wade jumped from the chair to pace around some more. He had to come up with a plan to get the two to spend time together, and get to know each other better. Create some closeness to let the sparks fly and catch on.

“That’s even worse.” Al laughed, snoring.

“Thank you for the compliments… Reassuring.” Logan groaned, regretting to even have answered Wade when he asked him about how things were going with Y/n. Maybe he wasn’t ready to be with someone again. He liked her and wanted to get to know her but something was stopping him. The urge to protect her from danger and he still thought of himself as the greatest danger to her and his team.

“On the other hand, she is still interested after being rejected TWICE. So you still have a chance, Pookie.” Wade said, sitting down next to Logan, yet again way too close.

“I’m gonna help you, buddy, Don’t you worry.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing Logan's ears “Act three needs some lovin’ and I make sure you get all the loving you need, baby” He whispered towards Logan. And with dread, and a bit of disgust, Logan accepted that he had no chance of stopping the man.

...

By the time the midterms rolled around, Logan had gotten familiar with the schedule and his profession once again. He slept better, tended to snap less at people and even his drinking tendencies seemed to get better. Being part of a community felt good and it made him angry at his younger self for rejecting the people who loved him out of some ill-placed ideology: that to keep them safe, he had to distance himself from them.

And yet you are doing it again.

He sighed as he trotted into the community kitchen. He broke his coffee maker in a fit of frustration last week and hadn’t found the time or energy to tell Charles to get a new one. He stayed out of the professor's way for the most part, not wanting to be roped into some conversation about ‘needing therapy’. So he sourced his caffeine intake from the machine that sat in the big, homely department kitchen. Another benefit was that there was always a fresh pot ready and waiting for him. Downside, there were almost always people in the kitchen, waiting for others to join in for conversation and breakfast.

This morning he should be safe from conversation. Most students and some staff went home for the fall semester break, leaving the school running on a minimal level to accommodate those who had no home to go to. There were no classes, meaning that the school apparatus calmed to a halt.

In practice that meant that almost everyone slept in with no pressure to get up early. And for Logan, that meant that he could enjoy his drink in peace before people tried to talk to him.

Lost in thought he strolled into the kitchen. It seemed empty, thank god. He sighed in relief, stretching languidly. The air exiting his lungs in a low groan.

Then a soft click sounded through the room.

A fridge being closed.

“Oh hey, you’re up early.” Y/n appeared behind the full-size fridge door that had previously shielded her from his view. She looked a little tired, not yet fully awake and a bit tousled from sleep.

Aww C’mon. Maybe Wade was right about the universe wanting them to come together. But primarily to annoy him and allow for Wade to give him the ‘I told you so’ speech.

“So are you.” He answered, leaving on the door frame and watching her pour some creamer into her cup. Upon closer inspection, she did look younger than her other iteration. Her features were softer looking with fewer wrinkles and scars. He needed to ask her about that at some point.

She leaned onto the counter to reach for another cup, taking it out of the overhead cabinet. Proceeding to pour some coffee in it. “How do you take your coffee?” She asked, turning towards him.

“I’ll take two sugars” He answered, moving towards her with slow even steps. The threat of Wade’s ‘help’ kept looming in the back of his mind, pushing him to be more open towards her and to come out of his shell. Who knows what that maniac had in mind?

Y/n hummed in agreement, dropping in two cubes of sugar and stirring the dark liquid before handing it to Logan.

He thanked her softly, holding the porcelain with his much larger hands. He had moved quite close to her, both leaning against the kitchen counter. The closeness and difference in height between them meant that Y/n had to look up to him, to make eye contact.

With a grin he noticed how she shifted her stand, one hand bunching up the material of her cardigan.

You still got it if you let it happen, man.

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, enjoying their drinks and watching the sun paint pictures onto the kitchen surfaces, colored by the stained glass windows.

She was the one who broke the silence. “Are you ready for the training session today?” She asked, turning towards him, shifting her position so that her hip was pressed against the counter.

“Training?” He asked confused, setting down his cup to cross his arms over his chest, the muscles shifting visibly under his skin.

That’s right! Show her what you got!

“Yes, staff training? We got the call from Washington about a mutant security threat. Charles wants us to be ready just in case. Do you read your emails?” She teased, watching him over the rim of her mug.

“I don’t know how that stuff works if I’m honest with ya.” He shrugged “Do you go on missions regularly? On Government orders?” He remembered that Xavier had mentioned something along the lines of that. Some complicated struggles between heroes about government regulation and so on.

“Yes, after the blip it was decided that an X-team force should be established to take care of mutant-related threats or endangerments.” She explained.

He had heard of that, too. “Right. What was that blip again?”

The energy in the room shifted suddenly.

Y/n huffed, almost spilling a bit of her drink. “Ha, that’s a bit of a heavy topic for morning coffee talks.” She looked around uncomfortably. Logan seems to have hit upon a heavy subject.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He apologized quickly. Beating himself up for screwing it up once again.

“No, no it’s fine.” She shook her head, setting down her drink to cross her arms as he did. Only that she seemed to do it defensively. “Half of all life stopped existing for five years and… that left a few scars.” She explained somberly, softly nodding to herself.

Logan blinked, his mind moving at high speed to get the conversation on a good topic again. Anything to turn it around and to prevent her from having a bitter aftertaste to their first proper talk.

Yet it was her, once again, that stepped up. She noticed how he got nervous, eyes wandering, shoulders sagging.

“I’ll explain it to you later. When we are not so pressed on time.” She reached out slowly, placing her hand on his arm, squeezing it in reassurance. Y/n smiled at him softly, moving around him to exit the kitchen and prepare for the day ahead.

Without thinking Logan placed a hand over hers, just in time before she pulled hers away. It had her stop in her tracks. Her eyes moved to where his rough callused palm warmed the back of her hand, up to his eyes. He was watching her with intention.

She was nervous. This was either going to be an invitation to finally get to know him or he had enough of her and told her to stop fancying him.

“You can explain it to me on a walk to the lake? Tonight?” He asked, one eyebrow raising in question. His hand squeezed hers gently.

A second of silence followed.

She exhaled, the stress leaving her body but she had to keep her composure. A grin spread across her face “Sounds like a plan.” She held eye contact for a few beats, then let her hand slip out of his hold as she left.

That’s how you do it, Tiger!

Her lips pressed together to keep from smiling too hard as she exited the hallway.

Taglist: @sarahskywalker-amidala @myu3ki @stinastar @zortlort @zeeader @lolurk @eddiesguitarskills @elianamarie-blog @byhuenii @sunfairyy @weallhaveadestiny @catiwinky @halerune@yawnzshit @sseleniaa @starfleetteddybear @ipreferreadingtocope @br1-11 @kalicox @rushin--spy @poplottie @pushingdaisies1 @nikki-says-beautiful-lies @lizlil @matchamidoriya @simonsbluee @beiroviski @spideybv28 @suiien @prompto-is-a-chocobo@landlockedmermaid77@passionfruiticedtea @valorant-v @onlyforyuto @fallen-angels2213 @danicl25 @meowmeowyoongles @qardasngan @savy-luvs-dilfs @i-dont-do-too-much @kittykookies @hooomansstuff

I hope I got everyone on the taglist. Write to me if I missed you.

New requets for being added to the list via comments on the Masterlist post, please. That helps me to keep things organized :)

But please leave a comment on this post to provide me with serotonin 😍

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #deadpool wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #x men #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #angst #fluff #deadpool & wolverine

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thehighladywrites · 10 months ago

Text

— “I’m just a girl!”

☀︎ — pairing: nerd/tutor azriel x bimbo/ditzy reader

☀︎ — summary: you tell azriel you don’t know what taxes are, and that you haven’t filed them ever

☀︎ — warnings: fluff, dramatic reader, azriel being sweet and educational

☀︎ — amara’s note: man i wish i was her rn💔 also this is so fucking real bc what on earth are taxes???

series masterlist

“Baby, please, you have got to grasp the gravity of this situation. Not filing your taxes is no joke. You could end up behind bars for tax evasion! There was a whole mandatory course last semester, didn’t you take it?” Azriel's tone is firm, his concern painted all over his face as he stands infront of you.

When you revealed that you didn't know what taxes were or how to "file" them, Azriel got worried sick, emphasizing the importance of understanding basic responsibilities like this.

He brought you into the living room, seated you on the sofa, and stood in front of you, carefully explaining step by step why not filing taxes was illegal and how to fix the situation. However, no matter how hard you try, you can't focus on his words, your attention completely consumed by his built muscles. Your mind goes blank as you find yourself daydreaming about him taking off his shirt.

Azriel knows you’re not focusing on his words, he knows you’re ogling his body, and even though he gets warm and loves it, he needs you to focus on the topic, at least for a few minutes.

“Are you paying attention, baby?”

You honestly don’t get it at all. Like, if they take tax from you when you’re shopping, shouldn’t they already know how much you owe or whatever? And who even are the IRS? Can’t you just live your life without all this complicated stuff? Why does Azriel have to make everything so...ugh, what's the word? Complicated?

“Oh my god, Azzie! Stop it, I don’t wanna do this and I don’t understand anything. Please, I’m just a girl!” you exclaim dramatically pulling your knees to your chest as you hide your face in your hands, tears prickling in your eyes. You’re feeling completely overwhelmed by the situation and the sheer thought of dealing with stupid taxes.

Azriel sighs deeply, his brows furrowing as he takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. If he doesn’t have a gray hair by the end of the week, he’ll consider it a win. As much as he wants you to understand what is wrong with basically committing a crime, he doesn’t want you crying, he feels sick to his stomach seeing you so sad but he just has to fucking ask.

“You’re—You're just a girl— sweetheart, what does that even mean?” he asks gently, completely flabbergasted by your statement.

You fold your arms over your chest, chin held high as you say, “Ya heard me, m’just a girl. And that means i should not be doing any of this, i should be living my best life instead of thinking about whatever taxes are.”

Azriel just looks at you with raised eyebrows, man you’re stressing him the fuck out. Luckily he caught your illegal activities early otherwise you would have gone to prison for sure. Even though he thinks it was ridiculous for a person to have never done their taxes ever, he doesn’t hold you against it. He just slumps his shoulders, taking a breather. Azriel can never be mad at you, never at his sweet angel. Especially not when you look so upset, big sparkly eyes looking at him with worry.

It’s in that moment. That tiny moment, he decides to never confront you with your mistakes. Sure you almost went to jail, but Azriel is here now. He is intelligent enough to think about the more serious issues for the both of you. And he will for the rest of his life, not because he has to, but because he wants to. He wants to take care of you.

“You’re right, my love, you shouldn’t worry about this. I’ll take care of it,” Azriel assures you, his tone gentle as he tucks a strand behind your ear.

You look up at him, eyes shiny with unshed tears as your face lights up before you stand up and jump into his arms, showering his face with kisses, your excitement bubbling over.

“Awe, you're the best baby, I love you so, so, soooo much!” you exclaimed, your words flowing freely in your ditzy excitement.

He laughs shyly, still getting nervous when you show him affection. “I love you too, beautiful.”

🏷️: @ithan-holstroms-girl @whatdoyxumean @honeybeeboobaa @to-be-written @sidthedollface2 @stasiereads @andrewgarfield2022 @amara-moonlight @thescooby-gang @linoisqt @mischiefmanagers @tortured-artists @dwyniii @scoobies @harryshoobies69 @caroline-books @kalulakunundrum @meshelleexplosionmurder @danikamariewrites @clairebear08 @redbleedingrose @jeannineee @rowaelinsdaughter @nocasdatsgay @v3lv3tf0x @liati2000 @teenageeggscissorslawyer @impossibelle @stonerpersona @dreamlandreader @djaaaa @callmeblaire @thelov3lybookworm @polli05927 @ahitsalyssa @evergreenlark @thegirlintheshadows101 @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @readychilledwine @daycourtofficial @azriels-shadowsinger @sapphicmsmarvel @hungryforbatboys @justasillylittlegoofyguy @luvmoo @emryb @meritxellao @mochibabycakes @artists-ally @azzieslittlebunny @viatorem-maris @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch @sweetshifter @lilah-asteria

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rui-drawsbox · 11 months ago

Note

hmm im curious. whats olba about :0?

Oh anon you have no idea of what you just asked-- let me get my teacher costume

AHEM

OLBA or Our Life: Beginnings & Always it's a visual novel where you can play the perfect life you never got and cry about how much you wanted it after you finish it :DD (available on Steam for pc and Itch.io for both pc/mac and android!)

You play as-- well, you (or not, you choose)! You can choose your name, last name, pronouns, appearance, personality, hobbies, everything except your family, but you wouldn't like to change them for anything after you meet them.

You start the game as an innocent 8 years old kid that meets a random guy that tells you that he just moved across the street, he also tells you about his son: Cove! who has the same age as you. This guy tries to bribe you with 20 dollars, you can accept or refuse (or run! i like that option), either way you end up in a poppy hill behind your house and find the so famous Cove! He tells (cry) you that his parents just divorced and that he miss his mom ( :c ), you can comfort him or not, but you two still will be found by both of your families and have to go home.

That's the prologue! Gameplay aspect: it consists in 3 Steps of your life: 8, 13 and 18 years old! Each Step comes with 5 Moments, where you can spend time with (mainly) cove, if you're playing the base game. Talking about base game! You can complete it in around 5 hours (that's what took me the first time i think), and it comes with a 4th Step that work as an epilogue!

There are 6 paid DLC's (and a free one that is a name pack), 3 are other 15 moments for the first 3 Steps, 1 is a wedding dlc for our lovely Cove <3 (we'll get to him in no time), and the last 2 are extra content for two characters you'll meet in your very first playthough: Derek in Step 2 and Baxter in Step 3 (you should know this one very well if you follow me lmao), each with 5 moments extra for their assigned Step and their own Step 4 where you can follow and give proper closure to their stories!

I'll try to not ramble a lot because it's something you just need to experience yourself to get it but-- i will introduce you to the love interests! (or friendship interests, you don't need to crush on anyone to have a great time)

Cove Holden! Our lovely neighbor that we see almost everyday for like 10 years! You could also call him the second main character after you, since you learn more about him and his family during all the game. He's an introvert and ocean nerd (in the cutest way possible), depending on your choices you can shape his personality/style and become best buddies, the sweetest couple or just remain neighbours that never really got along. (you'll learn to love him, platonic or not, trust me)

Another perk of the game is that no matter what you do there's not "wrong or right" (unless you feel bad for the characters, like me), your actions does have consequences but there's nothing like a "bad ending/good ending", after all it's just your life, it goes on no matter what! Unless you want to reach a specific scene you found online you'll never have to use a guide for anything.

Derek Suarez! A caring guy! mabye a little too much, he's the oldest brother of 3 and that shaped him in a way that he always feels responsible of everything😔. During his storyline you'll help him to learn how to relax and lean on other people :D!

Baxter Ward! A monochromatic gentleman, mischievous as a cat and emotionally repressed like a pressure cooker <3. Struggles a lot with making deep conections and being emotionally vulnerable, you can imagine about what goes his storyline lol.

He's my favorite, if you haven't noticed. He has that infuriating charm that only someone that unironically says "Hallelujah" has. A very dramatic route, he's a very dramatic guy, you should see how he texts in step 3 aghsdas.

Also! all the side characters are super likeable, from your family to the baker of that bakery that is metioned a few times!

ANYWAYS, in conclusion: this is a very relaxing game! If you like visual novels you should definitely give it a try, the amount of replayability this game has is insane. My recommendations for when you play are:

Try the base game first! If you like it you can buy the moments dlcs (theyre only 3$ each!), mabye the wedding dlc after that (if you want to marry cove that is, this one is 2$ btw), Derek's dlc and Baxter's dlc (5$ each) for last. Those are pretty much the release order but i that's also the order i enjoy the most!

(play this game at least 2 times trying different choices/personality, the differences are ughhhh/pos)

When you're playing for the first time you should play the moments left to right. On later playthroughs you should change the order to find new dialogues! theyre small things but omg theyre so fun

Have fun! do whatever you want, i literally said there's no bad or good ending, take advantage of it and be as foward or shy as you want, be a little shit or a literal angel! That is your life we're talking about.

#rui thinks loudly #just left 2 hours and half of my back's hp in this post #totally worth it #our life: beginnings & always #our life #olba #cove holden #derek suarez #baxter ward #gb patch #gb patch games #visual novel #honestly if there's anything i can do to make more people play olba i'll do it bc this thing literally healing #im full of love for this game bitch

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vitzi9 · 2 years ago

Text

I'll be patient, just for you.

Masterlist if you want to read my others things. Prequel of Patience is the key to sucess.

TW/CW: breaking in, voyeurism, ghostface

I feel like this is weird? Or cliché ? I can't tell but I don't really like it. (8/07/2023) (1678)

Ethan has always been a lonely man. Even in his own family, he wasn't loved. His father was talking about his lost son every hour of the damn day, his sister was too. Both of them had spent years trying to find the perfect revenge plan. It was the only thing in their mind. Their plan still wasn't finished yet and for the moment all he had to do was befriending some dumbs students for him to get closer to.

It was a long and boring process. Playing the embarrassed nerd every second, faking being insecure and everything. It was boring. Deadly so.

But it wasn't that much of a waste of time since it's then and there that he discovered his passion; killing and frightening people. In pair with lying. He always think: how many times can I lie to someone before they see it ? How big can my lie be and still pass ? It was his hobby now. The adrenaline he felt while taking the life of someone was exhilarating. He was Ghostface, now. It was beautiful !

So he joined a college and started to blend in. To others, he was the shy dorky nerd without friends, too stupid to hurt a fly. And it was perfect. Ethan was smart, incredibly so. And he was competitive. He was a genius and no one could challenge him, he was the first of every one of his classes. And if someone dared surpass him, he would get angry, really angry.

And no one was suspecting him, too ! Chad just wanted for him to get into a relationship, Tara, Anika and Sam weren't paying too much attention to him, sure Mindy found him weird but that was all.

His cover was perfect.

One day, paying attention to the lesson. He doesn't notice how his pen fell on the ground. Nor when you grabbed it for him. He felt someone tap on his shoulder. Turning his head, he's face to face with you.

You were plain, somewhat of a background character. You didnt't look like you'd be fun to play with, like you'd just cry if he'd chase after you. So he didn't really paid attention to you. Staying in his role, he smiles and thanks you. You smile back.

He didn't even know your name, in fact, he didn't know the name of the majority of people in the class. There were too much persons in this big room. He never noticed you, until now. Why were you seated beside him ? And when did you sit here ? One quick look at the room gave him the answer; there wasn't enough sits.

Chad nudges his side, Ethan moans from the pain. His roomate gives him a pointed look, smiling slyly. Ethan just shrugs. He was terribly annoying, not even funny. If he had any choice in the revenge plan of his father, this dumb guy would be his first victim. Seriously, his name is Chad ? What the hell ?

Ethan glances back at you briefly when he sees a pins on your pencil case; on it, the head of the puppet from the movies Saw. He was intrigued. He liked horror movie as well, and challenge even more. Saw could be really trash for some people, with physical and psychological horror. At first, it was just a game for him really.

He wanted to see how much time he needed to scare you off.

How much time he needed to make you cry, shake and beg for your life. He wanted to speedrun ruining you.

For that, he needed some material. Ethan was a theater kid at heart. He liked to make things dramatics. He grabbed a rope and a black spraypaint. That's all he needed for now. He went to the cash register and gave his 5 dollars note. The cashier told him thirty cents were missing. He was going to bargain, even going to break his character if he needed to, but someone was quicker.

One coin of twenty and one of ten had been put on the counter next to his hand. Surprised, he follows the arm that laid it until he sees the owner of it. You. You smiled at him politly. You, who was the reason he was buying this in the first place. You were nothing like the you from school. You were even pretty. He couldn't even proceed the information but he just stuttered something, a thanks maybe, he can't even remember. But he left with his articles, head low and cheeks red.

Two days later, (the time he needed for him to understand the reaction he had at the store), he was ready. He would follow you at school, for the sole reason he wanted to scare you, of course. He'd write threats to the sit you usually sit on. But you always brush them off, thinking it was just some aweful joke from another student. Even if he wrote your name on it, you wouldn't budge.

He hang up a doll to the ceiling once, to get a reaction out of you. Didn't work either. He tried a lot more things before he realized he had stepped down the creepyness. His creepy jokes were similar to one a kid do. The more he wanted to scare you, the less he was doing. But he was doing it on purpose.

He knew he was doing it on purpose, the pictures of you on his phone were giving him away. Pictures of you in your room, changing clothes, sleeping, walking. Everything. But everyone do that, right ?Every man his age had a crush, after all. But Ethan never had one. He didn't have a normal life after all, nor a normal family. So it's not surprising.

Is that what men feel ? Surely, yes. He couldn't, and wouldnt anyway, ask his dad on the matter. He soon realized it wasn't normal to obsess over someone this way. But at this point it was too late. He killed people, he could deepen in the uncontroversially. A Polaroid of you talking to you friend was well hidden in his nightstand. Your friend's face was crossed out.

This picture was his favourite because he got to be so so close to you that day he thought that wasn't real. You weren't even smiling on the picture, your friend was probably telling you sad things but he didn't care. He spent countless night staring at this picture.

He craved something else. He didn't know what exactly but the more he was looking at you, the prettier you were becoming. And you were nice to him too. Well, the two only times both of you talked, you were incredibly nice to him. And he discovered you had similar center of interest ! You had scary books in your room, you listened to artists he liked, or learnt to like, and like him you hadn't a lot of friends !

But there was that thing, you weren't scared. But on another side, Ethan is not sure he wants to see you just scared now. He wasn't satisfied anymore.

No, his need was stronger now. He wanted to scare you, but mostly detroy you. It was something really simple in his mind. Something quick to understand but hard to plan. Human is gregarious. Human needs to be in a group or in a pair, it's a fact. But what if an human is left alone ? Then, he'll seek refuge with someone else. Even if it's not truthful. Even if it's a fake relation, because human need compagny. It give them a sense of safety.

And that now, was more terryfing that any stupid movie. Because Ethan was controlling everything in this plan. Because he get to see you scared shitless, to see you cry and beg for you life, he get to destroy you and you'll still come back for him for comfort.

In this plan, Ethan was winning on every fronts. He had everything and you nothing.

Though, he had to control himself at some point. He couldn't act too quickly. It wasn't something you can do in a blinking of an eye. Plus, you still exerted a force on him.

That he wants it or not.

That persona he was sick of playing with his so called friends, weirdly enough, he was really getting into it when you were around. When you looked at him, even for a brief second, he was the embarrassed nerd. When you looked at someone else, he was insecure.

But he'd overcome that, eventually.

Often, you'd come to your friend's apartment and he would love these moments ! Because he could hide in the bathroom and listen to your conversation. At first, his audacity had him doubt about his plan. But your friend was so so stupid ! Since he already locked himself in the bathroom multiple times before, she was used to it by now. Just thinking that it was stuck sometimes and she wouldn't insist. Ethan was free to do what he wanted.

After that, he decided he needed more. He knew your bedroom window was giving to a little street below. And it became a habit for him to go there every night. You couldn't see him, less hear him. But he was talking to you, every time. Most of the time, he was seated on the ground, head glued to your room.

'You're so pretty' he'd whisper after a long day. 'Good night lovely' he'd say when you turn off the light. And once deep asleep, he'd enter your apartment. He already duplicated your keys; his most prized posession. He would just stare at your sleeping form. Sometimes, he'd watch the TV without sound on your couch. Wanting to create a domestic feeling in him.

But each time, once the night is over, you'd see each other at school and you would act as if you don't know him.

And he really, really hated you for it.

#ethan landry #ethan landry imagine #yandere ethan landry #ethan landry x gn reader #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry headcanons #yandere boy #vitzi9writings

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https-dollnini · 6 months ago

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ᴢʙ1 ᴀꜱ ꜱᴀɴʀɪᴏ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ

Summary: My thoughts on what sanrio characters zb1 would be based off of their personality

Author Note: Was feeling a little silly and thought this was a good idea (I'm also a fat sanrio fan so this is very self indulgent)

ᴋɪᴍ ᴊɪᴡᴏᴏɴɢ ᴀꜱ ᴋᴜʀᴏᴍɪ

both of them look tough on the outside but are secretly sweet on the inside

defo people that pretend they listen to hard rock and then cry themselves to sleep with a ballad instead

the most misunderstood :(

but that means their also the ones to always include people and would rather die than make someone feel left out

i feel like the reason why i felt like jiwoong and kuromi matched the most in my head is because of how enigmatic and mysterious their personalities are made out to be

but trust that my man is a true softie at heart

ᴢʜᴀɴɢ ʜᴀᴏ ᴀꜱ ᴍʏ ᴍᴇʟᴏᴅʏ

do you see how coquette this man is

this paring is literally why i made this whole post

defo see my melody as a kind and gentle person

with hao as mother, everything in my head just clicked

the most calm and collected out of all of zb1, but that's probably just because he's an introvert in a room full of extroverts

also think that they both have such a strong liking for cute and pink things

mans literally said his favorite colour is pink

this pairing can not be any more perfect than it already is

ꜱᴜɴɢ ʜᴀɴʙɪɴ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴋɪᴛᴛʏ

you can not convince me that hanbin isn't main character coded

this is his world and we're just living in it

both of them have so many friends its insane, and are defo more on the talkative side

also feel like both of them are very dramatic

like have you seen this man every single time something mildly suprising happens

hes shocked to the core, on the floor, disgusted, making the weirdest facial expressions known to man

ALSO LOOK AT HOW CUTE BOTH OF THEM ARE

i rest my case

ꜱᴇᴏᴋ ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴡ ᴀꜱ ᴘᴏᴍᴘᴏᴍᴘᴜʀɪɴ

the embodiment of a puppy

both of them are very playful and energetic in the cutest way possible

like have you seen this mans natural aegyo

they also spread positivity absolutely everywhere they go

like its oozing out of them

i refuse to believe that matthew has ever cried because when you have a smile like that why would you ever do anything other than show it off????

can you tell i like his smile...

ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʀᴀᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴘᴇᴋᴋʟᴇ

i was seriously debating between whether putting him or yujin as cinnamoroll bcs in my head yujin kinda fit pochacco too

BUT then i remembered that pekkle. is. a. duck!?!?!?

that literally solved all my internal conflict

LOOK AT THEMMMMMMMM

both soft hearted to the core

also a little sassy but i think we expected that

i did a little research and apparently pekkle is really good at singing and dancing

literally so many similarities

matching them together is a canon moment in my life

ꜱʜᴇɴ Qᴜᴀɴʀᴜɪ ᴀꜱ ᴄʜᴏᴄᴏᴄᴀᴛ

honestly this is less about personality and more about appearance

chococat being a black cat is so perfect that i had absolutely no choice but to give it to ricky

AND YOU SEE THAT STRAWBERRY PHONE CASE IN THE PICTURE?!?!?

as a strawberry enthusiast i think that ricky would approve

moving on, i think he's a playful and funny character

defo looks cold at first but once you warm up to him you see how he pays attention to the little details

lovelicky fr

ᴋɪᴍ ɢʏᴜᴠɪɴ ᴀꜱ ᴋᴇʀᴏᴘᴘɪ

look at this man and tell me he's not keroppi coded

sososososo cheerful and bright

he's literally one of he main mood makers of the group

also very mischievous too

i mean look at him teasing ricky every 3 seconds or annoying yujin with his love

and maybe this is the inner delulu speaking but i also think he actually looks like keroppi?!?!?

someone pls agree with me or ill cry no i really will

ᴘᴀʀᴋ ɢᴜɴᴡᴏᴏᴋ ᴀꜱ ᴛᴜxᴇᴅᴏ ꜱᴀᴍ

ik this is kind of a weird one

but you need to understand the vision

i feel like theyre both HUGE nerds (in the best way possible)

like you know how gunwook always sprouts random facts, or goes into a rant about information that no normal person would know???

yeah. thats what i mean.

i also feel like they're both really laid back people that love to enjoy the moment they're in to the fullest

i will continue pushing this agenda until everyone is brainwashed to agree with me

ʜᴀɴ ʏᴜᴊɪɴ ᴀꜱ ᴄɪɴɴᴀᴍᴏʀᴏʟʟ

we all saw this coming

so baby

thats all i have to say

literally just shy little cuties trying to make their way through life the best they can

once they warm up to you though...

they genuinely can't shut up

will say the weirdest things at the weirdest times for absolutely no reason

but they get a free pass because LOOK AT THEM OML IM GONNA DIE

the way i can see yujin using the excuse "i'm just a boy"

he is, just a shy, cute, menace of a kid

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eriexplosion · 11 months ago

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Entombed, PHEE MY BELOVED.

Omega is having so much fun in the junkyard she finds extreme enrichment in being able to Steal and Scavenge. I love that Omega craves Treasure this season, it's for a sad reason (SHE HAS TO EARN HER RIGHT TO EXIST WITH HER FAMILY RIGHT?) but it's also delightful to watch. LET SMALL GIRLS STEAL ALL THEY WANT, IT'S IMPORTANT TO THEIR PSYCHE.

Bolo and Ketch at Phee's storytime is so cute

Tech you would only know the story changes every time if you were listening every time she told it (and remembering the details) you know you like storytime.

God Hunter has reached maximum tired dad in this episode like legitimately the most exhausted I have ever seen him. His completely tired voice on 'Those two will believe anything.' Tired glances exchanged with Echo. This face.

We have a bit to go before he gets to that face but I am fucking entranced by it. Haunted by it. God give him a nap.

Tech and Phee sorting through the garbage haul together. Date Night Ideas for nerds.

MEL-221 is SO cute I love the paint job

Tech absolutely wants to pick Phee's brain for more unknown systems he wants to put them on his map, he MUST put more systems on his map.

Hunter turning around while they're talking though like he senses a disturbance in the force and it's going to make his life more difficult isn't it?

God him doing grouchy knife tricks in the background watching Omega copy Phee like she used to do with him, Hunter is so mad that is HIS little sister and Phee is STEALING HER.

"Who'd wanna hide treasure here?" Echo let's be real, the best place to hide treasure is where no one in their right mind would ever want to go. It just makes sense. Their distaste for how much this place sucks is great though, Echo has two sides: One wants to be doing more to fight the Empire, the other wants to find a nice sunny spot and drink a margarita already. Notably NEITHER of those sides wants to be on Suck Planet looking for Supposed Treasure.

CUTLASS CUTLASS CUTLASS

"If I'm right, which is always~" I love her so much.

Also her dramatically like THIS IS THE ENTRANCE TO SKARA NAL! And Echo is just. The WHAT? Genuinely one of my favorite things is when someone says something and Echo's entire reaction is "What the FUCK are you TALKING ABOUT?"

Phee you need to be aware when discussing 'the ancients' that everyone besides you in this room is less than 12 years old and their entire culture began that long ago too, they have very little reference for ancient anything.

Omega <3 BABY GIRL IS SO SMART also I love laying the compass on Phee's lantern to make it a projector that is so good

Hunter sensing the creature coming before it growls, I always love to see some of his enhanced senses at play. AND WHY IS IT ALWAYS WRECKER ABOUT TO GET EATEN, WHAT ABOUT HIM IS SO IMMENSELY SNACKABLE?

"You're just making this up as you go" hush Hunter that is your entire MO and you know it.

"So we have to navigate this death trap without it?" "Good thing you have me :D" *HUNTER GIVES THE LONGEST SIGH AND DRAWS HIS GUN FOR NO REASON JUST TO EMPHASIZE HOW UNCOMFORTABLE HE IS*

I love the door opening with the SPINNING as it slides

Heart of the Mountain is so pretty I want it as a rock candy

I've noticed when they need someone to fall while they're dangling precariously it's always Echo that goes first, life is hard when you have one hand capable of gripping.

The interior when the... it looks like a tomb guardian from Jedi Fallen Order iirc... activates looks so good.

Phee protectively clinging to the Heart of the Mountain, she doesn't WANNA give it up! Fair, Phee.

Hunter saving her last minute is such a good moment too, honestly this is a fun episode and yet another one I can't understand why people hated it sooooo much. This fandom lacks joy sometimes.

Let me tell you this thing approaching the Marauder is still stressful despite knowing nothing happens to it because of my intense belief that the marauder is NOT making it out of this show in one piece.

Them all being in this thing as it randomly self destructs is a lot, WHY DOES IT DO THAT WHEN YOU PUT THE THING BACK IN

"This puts as at 0 for 2 in treasure hunting"

MEL being blown up so much that Phee keeps a backup of her on the ship is a great detail.

#the bad batch rewatch

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albatmobile · 2 years ago

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The Art of Rehabilitating Snowbirds Chapter 18

𓅪 After not hearing from Roy or Jason for five years, you suddenly find yourself taking in extra income as a babysitter for their child.

𓅪 Rated: M | TW: weed, underage drinking, slur | 4.5k includes: jayroy moments, under the influence makeup application

fem!Reader x Jason Todd x Roy Harper [masterlist]

Chapter 18: Call Me in the Afternoon | ao3 - wattpad

THEN

Whatever you and Damian had going on had been, well, going on for a little over a month.

Now, he hesitated more than usual when you wanted to hang out with his brother and Roy and you really kind of fucking hated it. Damian was your best friend. Did he really think his brother would take you away from him or something?

What made that day even worse was Dick’s dramatic ass being present.

“We have a project today,” Roy said, jerking his head over at Jason who was already ascending upstairs. “You coming or what?”

You hesitantly looked at Damian, who frowned in response, “I thought we were doing still lifes in the foyer.”

You tried so hard not to laugh at his use of the word ‘foyer,’ but Roy’s shit-eating grin ultimately won out. Before you could stop it, you unwittingly released a giggle you would’ve normally held back had his dumbass not been there.

Roy, noticing Dick’s ‘big brother lecture face’ forming, quickly fled in the direction Jason had gone.

“Damian’s a proper gent,” Dick came to his defense with a pout no 23-year-old should be capable of. He then scooped up a very reluctant Damian into his arms, who fought his grip every step of the way. “Don’t make fun of my baby bird.”

You shook your head, holding up your pinkie. “Of course not,” you promised.

Damian relinquished himself from Dick’s jacked arms with a flustered grumble, ridding himself of invisible dust as soon as his feet hit the floor.

“Father will be needing me anyway,” he spoke slowly as if he was trying to send you a message. Whatever it was, you weren’t understanding. “I don’t expect to be back before you leave.”

“Okay.”

This had happened a few times and you’d become somewhat accustomed to it. Usually, when he and Bruce had whatever bonding Damian was talking about, you��d just wander off and bother whoever was around the manor, even if it was just Titus.

“I’ll be leaving now, then.”

You nodded, not understanding why he was still in front of you. “Okay, sounds good,” you drawled, giving him an unsure thumbs up.

“You’re not understanding,” he said with a tch before stepping in front of you. “I want a kiss,” he said your last name.

“Oh,” your face flushed with warmth as soon as he took a step closer to you, “okay.”

You glanced over his shoulder where Dick was obnoxiously fangirling, but his cool hand on the heat of your cheek drew you back to him. Mere seconds later, your lips made contact as he lightly pecked your lips with his.

The brief chasteness of the moment lasted mere seconds before he pulled away and attempted to lead away Dick. However, this didn't stop him from shooting a barrage of questions your way.

Uh.

“You guys a thing?” Tim startled you, seemingly stepping out of the shadows.

“Tim,” you laughed lightly, placing a hand over your heart for the startle he’d caused. “I- I’m not quite sure.” It was the truth. Even what he’d just done had been a surprise to you. “You know how he is with feelings.”

That earned a chuckle from Tim, “You’re right.” He motioned you to follow him, so you did. “You finally wanna see my collection?”

Tim had teased you about his comic collection before the incident, but he’d never been around to follow through. That and Damian wouldn’t leave the two of you alone, claiming that “too much nerd talk could be lethal.”

“Was that a joke?” you’d asked Damian.

He cursed your last name, “I tell plenty of jokes; it’s not my fault you idiots don’t pick up on them.”

But, alas, Damian was gone.

Tim held your hand as he showed you the bulk of his stuff and leaned over your shoulder, pressing his front into your back as he maneuvered to show you one of his favorites.

“Oh wow! I’ve never read this one before.” It was a rare Green Arrow comic. You flipped over to the back carefully, where your fingers appreciatively fanned across its glossy cover.

“Now, I can tell you all about that one, princess,” Roy’s sultry voice startled you from behind.

What was up with everyone sneaking up on you today?

“You actually like comics?”

You were confused. Roy had only ever made fun of your obsession, but he had technically brought you all those Flash comics. You blushed, realizing you’d never thought to question if they were his, even though you realized he had mentioned reading through them.

“Nah. Not anymore, really, but I know plenty about ‘em.” Roy shot a smirk at Tim’s deadpan stare.

If Roy had black hair, you’d swear he was just another one of the Wayne brothers with how they gave each other shit so easily.

Tim sighed from beside you, shaking his head slightly as you slid the comic back into place on the shelf. Tim had yet to move away from you. The close contact that remained left you worried that your heart was beating loud enough for both boys in the room to hear it.

The awkward silence lingered, though you attempted to fight it with your ever-present charm.

“Cool,” you said.

You pretended to keep looking through the comics hoping either: Tim would move away or Roy would leave. Whichever made this weird situation end faster, that was for fucking sure.

“Yep,” he popped the ‘p’ on the word as he looked between you and Tim, unimpressed.

You tilted your head at his questioning gaze before switching the topic altogether at the unexpected tension building in the room. “What are you up to?” you asked Roy to break the awkwardness.

He winked so quickly you thought you’d imagined it. “Tag along and find out.”

You stepped out of Tim’s unintentional embrace to join Roy at his side. You motioned back to the raven-haired teen with your head. “Come on, Tim.”

He cleared his throat and looked back at the shelves in front of him, “You go ahead. I’m supposed to meet Stephanie on a date.”

“You guys are back on?” It’s a question obviously for Tim, but Roy’s attention is pointedly locked on you. “That’s awesome, bud.”

You brushed off Roy’s odd behavior and wished him luck on his date before following Roy out of the room.

Roy snorted as soon as you closed in on Jason’s room, “You and these fucking Waynes.”

“Fucks that mean, Harper?” You smacked him on the arm. “I like you just as much.”

“Well, ain’t that a relief,” he said, wiping imaginary sweat from his forehead while easily avoiding the shoulder punch you sent his way.

“Heyy,” Jason drawled lazily upon your arrival.

You hitched a questioning brow in response. “Sup,” you greeted hesitantly.

Jason made some dumb sign with his hands as he slightly swayed back and forth. However, it wasn’t until he complimented you that you truly caught on to what was going on. Sure, that one night in the library, he’d been pretty drunk, but this? This seemed like a blackout kind of drunk. Jason’s angsty ass + blackout drunk… yeah, you didn’t think it added up to anything good.

“You look so good always, but your makeup.” He hiccupped and sloshed around whatever alcohol was in the bottle in the process. “You’re… when you do the makeup- looks really good, y’know?”

Damn, he was really far gone.

“Project, huh?” you questioned, shooting Roy a wary look. “Just how much has he had to drink?”

With how he was acting, there was no way he hadn’t already been sloshed before coming home. You shook your head, wondering why Jason was acting out like this all of a sudden.

“You can do my makeup, y’know?” Jason slapped at your thigh from the floor to get your attention again.

“Enough for the man to want his makeup done, I s’ppose,” Roy responded. He held in a hiccup of his own, but your narrowed eyes let him know you were on to him, too.

How much could two teenagers possibly drink in like… twenty minutes? You know what, never mind, you didn’t want to know.

“Your eyeliner always looks so good, babe. S’really not fair,” Jason whined. At this, he pulled you to the ground and dug through your backpack for whatever emergency makeup you had stashed away in there.

You cocked your head questioningly, but nodded anyway. “You’d look really good with eyeliner,” you admitted to the raven.

“Oh, I know.”

“Roy, you in?” He gave you a dubious look, but you just shrugged. “It’s only fair,” you tried.

Finally, Roy sighed, giving in, “Yeah, fine, but I get to do yours.”

You were already wearing mascara, but that was about it. Letting Roy anywhere near your eyes with a liquid eyeliner pen seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. There was no way the look was going to come out decent.

Yes, decent was the standard here, so you knew you were definitely drawing the short end of the stick. Anything to keep Jason happy, though, you supposed.

“Oh god,” you pulled out your one palette, your blush, mascara, and eyebrow fixings and got to work. “This definitely isn’t sanitary,” you trailed off, drowned out by Roy’s cackles like you’d just said the funniest thing he’d ever heard or some shit.

Jason’s eyes were slightly hooded, whereas Roy’s were larger and slightly buggy-looking. The application would have to differ on each of their eyes, you realized.

“Will you make me beautiful?”

Your hand paused with your brush right above his cheeks as his words settled over the quiet of the room, “You’re already beautiful, Jason.”

There seemed to be no need for blush with how rosy his cheeks had turned, but you applied it anyway.

“Sometimes I don’t feel it.”

Your heart clenched. You definitely wished you also had something to drink- anything to quell the guilt of hearing him spill his heart so freely to you.

How could someone who looked like Jason be so… so… unsure of himself?

Whereas you felt like a loser, he knew he was a badass with enough swagger to put even Roy to shame.

There was no way he could be insecure. He looked like a literal god and his every glance your way practically sent your knees wobbling.

“Jay.” Roy shifted to sit beside him, shaking his shoulder slightly as he grabbed the bottle from his grasp. What little was left of the amber fluid crashed hollowly against its glass confines as he did so. “I think you’re good on the Woodford, buddy.”

“That’s rich, Roy,” Jason huffed. “What? A guy expresses his fucking feelings and, all of a sudden, I’ve had too much?” Jason ripped the bottle from Roy’s hand and chugged a few satisfying gulps before passing the bottle off to you. He wiped haphazardly at his face while his half-lidded eyes drank in the sight of your lips touching where his had just been.

Feeling a cottony edge to your thoughts and a familiar warmth to your face, the playing field felt even once again.

Roy held up his hands in faux-surrender before gesturing for you to hand the bottle his way.

Jason welcomed you back as you positioned yourself to begin his eye makeup, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you close against his chest. “Y’need to be close for this shit,” he slurred.

You snorted, “How would you know?”

“Sometimes I practice.” Jason shrugged, looking at you for a reaction and very pointedly avoiding Roy’s. “Y’hafta get close to the mer-or… the mare-er,” he huffed, looking at you to finish his slurred sentence.

“The mirror?”

Jason’s hand, seemingly out of anxiety from his admittance, jerked to rub at his eyes. The movement stopped just before he got close enough to the makeup for you to warn him. “Yeah, that shit.”

You heard Roy shift from behind you, but Jason’s grip on you was unrelenting.

Ever-present charm, where did you go?

A joke. Yes, a joke during this delicate situation.

“So, we’re using my shit because…?”

You waited with bated breath for his response, hoping he wouldn’t misinterpret it and get defensive. To your relief, he giggled. Absolutely downright giggled. You found yourself responding in the same way.

“Because you own shit they don’t sell at a 7/11,” Jason said as he stole the mirror to check himself over.

“Fair enough.” With that, you bit your lip and continued your work.

You thought back to how your main supply of makeup came from stealing things from your parent’s bathroom. Your mom always stole the good shit and never stuck around long enough to use any, so who was it really hurting to take it?

Jason was making it extremely difficult to focus when his hands were running up and down your sides and along the curve of your back mindlessly.

You realized he was probably just anxious with Roy there. You’d never heard him be so quiet, but his wandering hands left you death gripping the eyeliner. You could hardly subdue the urge to arch into his touch.

Your wings on him weren’t dramatic, just enough to highlight his natural eye shape without overcrowding his hooded eyelid. You hated when you realized you were running out of steps and would soon be forced to leave his embrace. You added the highlighter and mascara before forcing yourself away from him to inspect your work.

“Done. Roy,” you turned around, still somewhat on Jason’s lap, glancing at him out of the corner of your eyes, “compliment him.”

Roy eyed your curves up and down as you remained within Jason’s grasp, nodding absentmindedly. “Yeah, looks good,” he said distractedly.

“Roy, you’re not even looking at him.” You rolled your eyes and motioned the redhead closer.

He took a swig from the bottle, wiped his slick lips and scooted closer with a sigh, “Yup, still looks good.” However, he wasn’t able to maintain eye contact with Jason and Jason was noticing.

You climbed off of him to straddle Roy and began work on beating his face to perfection with the little amount of shit you had.

Jason’s look was slightly smokey, sharp and simple, but for Roy, you gave a more iridescent highlighter-driven look, emphasizing his lighter complexion and hair. Instead of the liquid black liner you’d used on Jason, you chose a brown eyeliner pencil and smudged it into the peachy highlighter you’d smeared across his freckled lids.

Jason watched, awestruck as the look came together.

“Roy.” Roy refused to look at him and you shuffled awkwardly, feeling the tension steadily build. “Roy, you look good.”Roy cut off your movements to chug the bottle again at Jason’s admission. “Look at me. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Chill out, bro,” Roy’s voice sounded strained.

Your hands, once again, stilled over his face.

“What? Suddenly, you can’t bear to face me? You’ve got the same shit on your face,” Jason growled. All the while, his scarred hands jerked around loosely.

You hadn’t realized you'd startled away from his reach until you felt the reassuring pressure of Roy's thumbs against your bare skin. You released a breath you’d been holding as he rubbed soothing circles where your shirt had ridden up, exposing the skin of your hip in the process.

You’d known Jason could get angry, but adding alcohol into the mix created an unknown edge you weren’t sure you wanted to bear witness to.

“You’re hot, Jason. I can practically see myself blowing you in a bar restroom now, dude. Is that what you wanted to hear?” Jason grumbled and pulled out his phone to check out your handy work. The mood instantly calmed because, apparently, that was exactly what Jason had wanted to hear. You relaxed into Roy’s touch and quickly finished his face off with mascara. “God damn, I need a joint,” Roy groaned.

He went to rub at his eyes, but you smacked his forearm away in an instant. “Don’t touch your face before you’ve even seen it,” you chastised.

Roy exhaled deeply like he was at the end of his ever-abundant patience. “I don’t hate many things, but this?” Roy gestured to Jason and the makeup on the floor. “I hated this.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled. You tried to hide your pout as you pulled out your phone’s camera to show him, but Jason had stolen it while you’d been preoccupied with Roy’s face.

Roy quickly produced his own phone, glancing at the screen for no more than five seconds before nodding. “Let me do your shit so I can roll up, princess.”

“You don’t have to, you know." You traced your index finger from the collar of his school shirt down to the middle button and backed up again shyly.

The last thing you wanted to do was keep Roy in a shitty mood when Jason was already in one.

You looked up to see his barely hidden smirk. “Well, now I’ve gotta,” he teased.

There was nothing relaxing about Roy’s application process.

From the eye jabbing and assault of blush on your cheeks, you knew you’d definitely drawn the short end of the stick. Jason, as drunk as he was, probably could’ve done a better job than Roy’s clown academy look, which left much to be desired.

Jason continued to touch his face while Roy set about silently breaking down the shell and then the bud. It’s only when he lit it that Jason pulled himself away from the camera.

“Damn,” Jason breathed, crawling over to invade the rest of Roy’s personal space that you weren’t taking up.

Roy snorted, drawing in a cloud of smoke until it protruded from his mouth like a bubble before fully exhaling right into Jason’s room. You knew Jason had to be pretty fucked up to smoke inside, but if it meant not having to go outside in the chilly weather, you were all for it.

“Yeah, shit’s fat, right?” the redhead said with the smoke leaking from his chapped lips with each word.

“No, not that.” Jason shook his head and took Roy’s face into his hands, turning it over haphazardly to take it all in. “You said you’d blow me?”

Roy choked on his next hit, sending him into a coughing fit that sent you scrambling from your spot on Roy’s lap. Jason wasted no time in replacing you atop Roy.

You took in the new positions from a breath away with widened eyes.

“Jay, you’re drunk,” Roy said, batting away Jason’s wandering hands as he handed the blunt to you so he could better fend him off. “Jay, baby, sto-” Roy was cut off by Jason’s lips.

You’re pretty sure you’re the one who gasped, but you couldn’t be sure when Jason was moaning like a paid whore.

What surprised you more was how Roy took it all in stride.

It should come as no surprise that Jason was an aggressive kisser. His face looked almost pained with his drawn brows as his teeth clashed against Roy’s.

Roy split away with a wrecked pant, shooting you a quick, hazy quirk of his reddened lips before diving right back in. This time, he met Jason’s tongue with his own, visibly flicking and prodding them against each other in the minimal space between them. The kiss was over the top, seemingly for your entertainment, as Roy slurped Jason’s tongue lewdly into his mouth.

You sucked on the end of the joint as you watched the scene in front of you unfold.

Your stomach felt a steady tickling coolness spread upward from the hot slick in your panties as the blanketing effects of the weed kicked in. If you hadn’t been so confused by the situation, you might’ve spread your legs to show them the wet spot that was overtaking the lace of your red thong. Instead, you sat there gripping the blunt and the hem of your skirt to prevent your hands from wandering to where they were itching to go.

It wasn’t working.

Your thighs spread without your permission. Soon, your arm dragged your clenched hand closer to your pulsating heat, exposing more of your thigh in the process as it did. Their moans rang out in unison and you unwittingly bucked into your planted forearm, clenching down around nothing at the teasing contact. You watched helplessly, willing yourself to actually touch yourself until you could no longer ignore that the bottle was in prime position to spill all over Jason’s carpet.

Damn, it sucked being the responsible one of the bunch.

You released the fabric of your skirt to grab the spilling whiskey that dripped from Roy’s distracted hand while Jason ground down against him. Upon grabbing the bottle, Roy seemed to startle back to reality and the moment abruptly ceased.

He pushed Jason off of him hastily with your hand retreated from its precarious position in the same manner.

“Yoooo,” Roy breathed. Suddenly, he shook his head, running his fingers through his hair repeatedly. “What the fuck, dude?”

Jason’s face dropped and you’re pretty sure Roy could see how you’d also been taken aback by his reaction. How could you not when the redhead’s previous reaction had been so…?

“Fuck you.” Jason grabbed the blunt from your grasp as he got up to walk to the balcony, leaving Roy and you to stare after his retreating form.

Of course his dramatic ass had to throw open the glass doors, leaving them to smack against the wall in his wake.

The glass continued to reverberate in their frames while Jason moved to grip the balcony railing like it was going to disappear from existence. The only movement was his arm moving robotically to put the blunt to his mouth and the smoke that plumed from it.

At least you weren’t the only one in the manor getting the runaround.

•

“Wake up, dumbass,” a low voice stirred you from your slumber. You awoke with a snort to Damian’s disgusted face standing over you. “You reek like skunk.”

“Shut up.” You sniffed at your uniform only to wince. “Fuck, you’re right,” you bemoaned.

“I’m always right,” he said your last name.

You groaned as you got up from the couch, searching desperately for something, anything to help you out when it dawned on you.

You turned to Damian so quickly, not even he was expecting it. “Give me one of your extra jackets,” you demanded.

“What?” His annoyed glare bore through you, but you weren’t giving in and you definitely weren’t going to be late.

You glared at him until he wordlessly retrieved his other clean jacket and handed it over to you.

“Fuck off,” you hissed as you attempted to slide it on, but it was like putting Polly Pocket clothes on a Barbie. “Why are you so fucking skinny, dude?”

“I’m muscular and lean,” he insisted with crossed arms, “not skinny.”

“You’re a child’s large,” you pointed out, reading from the tag with slight disdain.

“So what?!” He defensively stole the jacket back from you, wiping it off like you’d ruined it the second you’d touched it.

You stated the obvious, “This shit isn’t going to fit me.” Suddenly, you brightened up, snapping your fingers. “Cologne! Give me your cologne!” Damian rolled his eyes, but took much less persuading than last time for him to return. This time, he returned with a glass bottle of Prada. You gave it a few good spritzes before handing it back to a blushing Damian. “What?”

“Nothing, you just smell.” He shook his head, motioning you downstairs. “Nothing.”

You bumped into his shoulder, teasing, “You know, as my best friend, you’re morally obligated to tell me if I still stink like weed.”

“Definitely not marijuana,” he sounded resolute, so you dropped it.

You were about to talk to him about the upcoming collage project when you heard him.

“Say something, Bruce. SAY IT!” Jason lowered his voice, gritting his teeth.

You weren’t completely able to make out what he was saying, but he seemed to be barely holding out on hitting his dad right then and there.

“Master, Jason.”

You came around the banister to see Alfred placing a placating hand on Jason’s shoulder.

You only barely stopped yourself from gasping when you saw your smokey eye was still very much present on his face. Your eyes shifted briefly to Damian, who looked extremely confused by the recent revelation.

“Yeah, your son’s got fucking fag ‘tendencies,’” he spat, using air quotes around the last word. “Isn’t that what you called Dick’s relationship with Wally?” Jason shook his head like he was disgusted with him. “Like your whole polygamist-playboy shit isn’t the real uncouth situation here, Brucie?”

“Jason,” Bruce’s warning tone was losing patience by the second. “All I asked was if you did that to yourself. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong-”

“Yeah,” Jason growled, “you didn’t have to say anything for me to understand that you think there’s something wrong with me.” He scoffed, pushing past Bruce’s muscular build to exit the manor, “All because of some dumb pigment on my face? Fuck you, Bruce.” He hesitated, taking in the room with a visible tremble, “And, yeah, I like cock.”

The door slammed, announcing his rattling exit. Two for two on the manor’s doors; you had to give him kudos as you thought back to the balcony doors last night.

Bruce sighed and slumped down in one of the dining room chairs. His hand gratefully reached for Alfred’s, which had come to rest on his shoulder.

Family, no matter what it looked like, you supposed, was a complicated balancing act you weren’t sure anyone had mastered.

Least of all you.

Least of all the Waynes.

•

“You reek,” is how he greeted you when you sat in your usual seat in English.

You quickly picked at your collar, then looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to you. Who were you kidding? No one at school gave a fuck about you. Everyone milled about their pre-class business, leaving you and Jason undetected in the privacy of your usual corner.

“There’s no way," you insisted, inhaling deeply but only smelled Damian's pungent Prada. "I put on Damian’s cologne.”

You leaned in and had him sniff as well, which he did, albeit reluctantly.

"Ew," he complained, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

“What?” You startled backward and looked around to see if anyone else had caught the smell before turning back swiftly. “Jason, what?”

“Next time, ask for mine.”

“Oh,” your heart rate had already risen at the thought of being caught smelling like weed and Jason’s statement did absolutely nothing to quell the rapid beating. “Sure, yeah,” you said.

Jason tapped his eraser against his opened book. “Roy’s trying to skip after lunch.”

“You shouldn’t skip school so often,” you chastised lightly.

He looked out the window, ceasing his tapping. “Well, guess that answers my question of if you're coming with,” he said.

You hesitated, thinking back to his confrontation with Bruce earlier that morning. It couldn’t have been easy on him. Plus, how Roy reacted after the kiss also had to be eating him up. You knew him inviting you was his way of asking for your support when he came face-to-face with Roy after the incident yesterday.

“No, I’ll come.”

“Cool.”

You shook your head in disagreement. “Skipping school isn’t cool, but… Yeah, I need a break.”

“S’long as you don’t make it a habit, I guess. Right?” he repeated what you’d said the first time you guys had skipped.

You shot him an unimpressed glare. “Like you, you mean?”

“Yeah,” his chuckle came out more as an exhale than anything.

Angsty-ass.

“Hopefully, this time, we won’t have to share a motorcycle seat,” you joked, shrinking back when you were instantly met with the wolfish quirk that briefly tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Seemed like you liked it last time.” He looked at you too knowingly for you to believe he didn't know what'd gone down. “Now, come on,” he picked up both of your bags, “Roy’s gonna meet us at our usual spot.”

The bell rang and you followed behind, wondering just what the fuck you were getting yourself into.

A/N: jason's pissed u smell like dami

[next] || masterlist || pinned || ways to support

#reader x roy harper #reader x jason todd #reader x jason todd x roy harper #damian wayne x reader #jason todd x reader #my fic: the art of rehabilitating snowbirds #my fic:ars

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fructidors · 2 years ago

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ok here goes

mozart l'opera rock lighting infodump

by tumblr user and amateur theater tech nerd fructidors

(flash warning for some of the gifs)

disclaimer the (limited) experience i have with theater tech has been like 96.7 percent sound i have touched a lightboard exactly once in my life i am not at all qualified to make this post i've just overheard a lot of other techies talking about lights. also it has been barely a week since i watched this musical for the first time so i am just new to all of this in general. anyways onwards

i feel like what really makes the lighting in mlor stand out is that it doesn't just accentuate the set and costumes and actors, it engages dynamically with them. it doesn't feel natural, or suspend disbelief-- it's showy and bright and just as much a part of the spectacle as the copious amounts of eyeliner! and that almost feels fourth-wall-breaking in a way?

so i was going to just do my favorite moments but uh. turns out i have way too much to say so we're going song by song

overture/penser l'impossible: i love the opening and the patterning on the floor it's so dramatic (i think these are gobos? like i said. clueless) the set's so well lit here too i don't know if the gold highlights count as lighting but i am obsessed. also it sets up this show's habit of Making Everything So Red when something bad happens

also shoutout to the bubble of neon pink mozart apparently brings with him wherever he goes. icon

la chanson de l'aubergiste/le trublion: grouping these together since i don't have a ton to say about either of them

he's coming out of the floor ooooooo

no actually i love this trapdoor and how the guy's lit from below/within So Much oh my god. i think they do it again with the clown but with fog and. perfection i love it if i could change one thing about mlor i would give it a turntable because it deserves a turntable but i also think every show should have a trapdoor

transition into le trublion !!!! another cotton candy mozart moment we love to see it

bim bam boum: ok oh my god here's where it starts getting good.

sorry about the watermark on this one i literally could not get it to be normal without it but. oh my god ohghmygpod. are you seeing this. peut-être que mozart n'est pas un magicien but i genuinely think the lighting designer might be

and the dress. is a disco ball thing.

do i need to explain the stroke of lighting genius this is. she is not merely being lit she is emitting light she is a part of the lighting this was probably hell to get right but ohhhhmy god they pulled it off also i love the way mozart is lit in this entire song so much

the moving lights in this one also make me absolutely insane here are some stills of them as well as the transitions in and out of that bit in between the second and last choruses

this is one of my favorite songs lighting-wise in the whole show it's so ephemeral and dreamy and clearly gives off exactly the vibe it wants to it's visually stunning and emotionally effective no notes whatsoever and of course the transition out of it is perfect as well

six pieds sur terre: (sorry ah vous dirais-je maman but it's really just that one light on constanze) i'm equally insane about the lighting on this one it's not even that pivotal of a song it didn't have to go that hard but. somehow it did

i love the transition into it so much

but the lighting in the bridge is. oh my god it's. these are just the transitions in and out of it since they're the most like. dynamic parts but i would put in the entire bridge if i could

et enfin. at the end of the song there's this effect that i genuinely cannot get over i think it's floor lights but there's something about the color and placement of constanze and aloysia and their dresses that makes it look like they're lit from within? it's so magical i love it so much

j'accuse mon père: i am soooooo so normal about this lighting. so normal about this song in general. you have never met a person more normal about j'accuse mon père than i

this gif is weirdly low quality for some reason but look at this. the flames. mozart, isolated, in that harsh red again, his father in white, everyone else in blue.

these ones with mozart in the foreground are. they're so. images of all time oh my god you could put them in a museum. (obviously most of the credit there goes to the people with cameras but the lighting adds that stark juxtaposition that i think really gives the effect it's. effect)

i realize now that i'm probably going to be saying "this is one of the best lit songs in the show" for like half of these songs. but this really is right up there with bim bam boum in that it powerful, eye-catching lighting that adds so much weight to its emotional effects. here, the lighting colors in the scene, not over it.

ok i have hit the image limit so the rest is coming in more parts. told you i had too much to say about this

pt 2:

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sorrowful-sparrow · 2 years ago

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Here’s some thoughts I’ve had about our sweet boy Ed-weird-o. This has no organization, is straight off the dome mostly but he’s just so asdfgjk;/&-/)/@ ✨✨

The reason his kindness shines through his tough/metal head exterior is because he knows how lonely he’s felt as a kid and doesn’t want to let the endearingly named sheepies ever succumb to what society and the “American dream” thinks they should enjoy

Even if Henderson (his favourite even though he’d never admit it out loud in such words) annoys the piss out of him with the fact that he NEVER SHUTS UP OR IS WRONG. It would hurt Eddie so bad if he had the same moment Steve did when Steve pumped him up before the snowball

Like Eddie would wanna throw DOWN

“FUCK THAT HENDERSON. Who gives A SHIT if they think you’re weird or a nerd. They’re just pissed they don’t have a single iota of your intelligence or creativity”

“FUCK MAN.” Fusses with his hair and tries to catch his breath and just makes himself more annoyed “who the hell do they think they are?!”

Finally de-escalates after Dustin keeps trying to calm him down with a super shocked face “dude… am I your favourite?” Cheeky grin

“Shut the hell up Henderson! It just makes me so—”

“Does this mean I can help with the Next campaign?”

Eddie scoffs, slightly offended “does my mastery of the dungeon not meet your expectations?”

“NO! Of course not! I just think if we collaborated we could really show them- ”

Then they argue/collaborate about the next campaign Eddie swinging from excitedly needing to take notes but not having paper or wanting this wave length of PURE GOLD to stop for him to find some

Later when he’s at home at the trailer (IF HE DOESNT GET DISTRACTED 🤦‍♀️) he’s furiously trying to remember everything and write quick notes so he can elaborately trick Dustin into falling into a trap

Plot twist: Dustin probably doesn’t. That kid is too friggin’ smart

Okay that was a lot of one scenario of Eddie and Dustin but I just love them guys. The brotherly vibe they give off is just 🥹🥹🥹

Eddie with a girlfriend would INSIST he isn’t whipped or a “simp” at first

But he totally is.. cmon.

If that guy got a single sliver of undivided attention from a pretty babe he’d fucking run with it.

He’d probably be such an annoying dick 😂

“I’ll have you know my sweet Dungeon Mistress, (Y/N), thinks the next campaign is BRILLIANT and MY BEST WORK, don’t you babe? Tell them.”

“I just complimented your hard work Eds.. please”

“BAAABE!” He clutches at his heart, offended, wounded, defeated “… it’s dungeon master… please…” pouty pleading cow eyes

She sighs, “it’s his best work, prepare yourselves for—“

Eddie leaps to covers your mouth before you can give them a single clue “BABE! SPOILERS!”

The younger boys are just like, “wtf Eddie..”

Also I have this really stupid one where he’s so drunk off beers, and you, and the summer heat

You guys are just chillin at the trailer, he’s laying, rambling and just so infatuated with the fact that you put up with his shit (AND DRUNK, guys.. seriously this is important)

Wayne left the radio on before going to work his night shift and Forever and Ever, amen comes on

And he just stops

Shoots out of your lap

“UGH. What the fuck is this shit?!”

You say, “I kinda like it..” sheepishly preparing for a rant about how THIS is not music, ITS SHIT made to make nuclear rural families feel like they’ve done the right thing by selling out and living that stupid fucking apple pie life the MAN tries to shove down everyone’s throat

And Eddie just stares at you, and without missing a beat BELTS OUT THIS SONG TO YOU.

With dramatic flair, and heavy eye contact.

And then you guys just laugh wildly and cuddle

And you threaten to tell everyone about it

And he tackles you and pins you down, “not if I keep you here forever”

There’s a pause.

You say, sarcastically cautious, “forever and ever?”

“Amen”

Kay I’m done. I just. This boy. I can’t 🥲🥲 he’s such a lil dweeb and I love him

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson brainrot

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wolfprincesszola · 5 months ago

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Echoes of 50 Chapter 1

As always, check the TWs and CWs in the masterlist. This is probably one of my favorite chapters though and along with it, one of my favorite songs by Gracie Abrams. I hope you enjoy <3. ——————– Now Playing: Close to You by Gracie Abrams

<Previous Chapter> <Next Chapter> ——————–

Logan had a schedule he stuck to. He liked being punctual. He liked planning everything down to the T. He liked living in the most optimal way.

6:30 AM. Wake up and get ready for work. 7:30 AM. Head out of the apartment and walk to the nearby coffee shop. 7:45 AM. Order his regular: a caffè mocha. 7:50 AM. Get his order and walk the rest of the way to his work. 8:00 AM. Arrive at work on the dot. 12:00 PM. Take a lunch break. 12:30 PM. Go back to work. 4:30 PM. Walk home. 5:00 PM. Arrive at home and prepare dinner. 5:30 PM. Eat dinner and research. 9:30 PM. Get ready for bed. 10:00 PM. Mandatory cuddles with his cat Luna with no blue light. 10:30 PM. Sleep.

Repeat. Day after day. Week after week. Month after month.

He liked the consistency. What that meant was that Logan had almost never missed a day of work in his life besides the day he had seen the orange-suited man and that Logan had never been late to work. That was his life.

Work. Research. Sleep. Work. Research. Sleep. Work. Research. Sleep. Work. Research. Sleep.

Logan didn’t mind it. He enjoyed the schedule.

What he did mind was his schedule being interrupted on a sunny Thursday morning by the most gorgeous man he had ever laid his eyes upon.

To think it all started with an order of a simple caffè mocha. Logan had arrived into the coffee shop to be greeted with the barista he saw everyday. Roman Prince.

Around this time every day, there was always no one around. Too early for anyone to be getting coffee in a local small business without a drive-through.

“Logan. As on time as ever.”

“Ah, Microsoft Nerd! As on time as ever. Caffè mocha, is it?” Roman grinned at the man, “I’ll have it prepared in just one moment.”

Logan rolled his eyes at the man dashing around–more dramatically than need be–to prepare a simple order.

“You would think that after three years of me coming here every day at the exact same time that you’d have my order before I even got here, Roman.”

“Ah, then how would I be able to converse with you, Calculator Watch?” Roman chuckled mischievously, “You know how much I love to talk to people.”

“Then you must know how much I abhor socialization.” Logan huffed, placing the correct amount for the coffee on the counter. $5.24 exactly.

“I never got why that is.” Roman shrugged before capping Logan’s coffee. “You must absolutely have a miserable life.”

“I’m sure whatever you categorize as a ‘miserable’ life would be absolute blissful for me. I’ll be off, Roman. I urge you to have my order ready before I come, seeing as you usually are not doing anything when I arrive.”

“You know I won’t do that.” Roman kept a smile on his face as he handed the coffee cup to Logan. Logan lifted his coffee cup in thanks as he turned on his heel and began to walk away. Roman didn’t deserve a retort back for that.

“Asshole. Won’t even give the greatest Prince in all the lands a proper farewell.”

“I heard that!” Logan remarked. He didn’t miss Roman’s playful laugh.

Logan’s walk towards the front door was interrupted by someone slamming into him and hot liquid splashing on his chest. “Hey Ro. I didn’t see the people who wanted me to deliver these and it’s cold outside-”

Logan yelped, jumping back as he felt the hot coffee soaking into the newly-pressed collared shirt he was wearing. He couldn’t help the involuntary “fuck” that escaped his mouth.

“Oh no…Logan, don’t be upset at Pat. Don’t be upset. Don’t be upset. Don’t be upset.” Roman’s thoughts rang in Logan’s mind.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. Let me get you a napkin.” A man’s voice spoke up with panicked kindness as he rushed to grab something for Logan. Logan blinked once before staring at the man who had bumped into him. His heart skipped a beat.

The man was, to say the least, unique. His glasses matched Logan’s frames. A light gray cardigan hung on his shoulders as he wore a light blue polo shirt. Besides that, he had the most mesmerizing eyes Logan had ever seen. If Logan wasn’t careful, he could drown in their bewitchment. Logan had always detested the color brown, but somehow, it didn’t matter that the man’s eyes were brown because they were brown like the espresso grounds and dark chocolate Roman used to make Logan’s coffee. They were the brown that Logan found beauty in. Freckles adorned the man’s face, scattered around as if an artist had splattered paint onto his face. The arbitrary placement of his freckles on his face made no sense to Logan and yet he found himself entranced, wanting to count every freckle that adorned this man’s face.

“Yikes. That’s an angry face if I’ve ever seen one.”

Roman’s thoughts pulled Logan back into reality where he saw the man trying to carefully pat Logan’s stained shirt with napkins. The man’s glabella scrunched up with a fear that Logan would snap at him. So Logan didn’t. Even if he was upset over his shirt. Even if he knew he was now going to be late for work. Even if he was slightly annoyed. Logan would not get angry. And he didn’t.

Instead, Logan took a deep breath and looked at the man sincerely. “Are you alright?”

The man blinked in surprise, his glabella and his shoulders relaxing. “Uh, yeah. Are you?”

“I’ll be fine. What’s your name?” Logan asked as he pulled the man up to stop trying to wipe the coffee stains away. It would just have to be dry cleaned.

“He’s not mad?”

“You’re not mad?” The man looked up at Logan warily.

“I’m not. Really.” Logan looked to see what had been knocked over. A tray was strewn on the floor with two cups of spilled coffee. He leaned down to grab the tray and handed it to the man, “My name is Logan Sanders. You are?” “Patton Morris.”

Patton. Logan etched it into his brain, letting it spread across it like a primary-school rumor on the playground. He allowed the name to take over his entire thoughts and kept it hidden for safety in the back of his mind, forever knowing he’d be able to access it anytime he saw Patton.

“These orders must not be too important, Roman, if you are sitting around watching us instead of remaking them.” Logan called out to the barista. That seemed to make Roman jump as he began to remake the two drinks, no longer watching the interaction with burning curiosity.

“I’m so sorry.” Patton exhaled, “It’s my first day and it’s bean one of those days-”

“It’s alright, Patton. Mistakes happen…” Logan trailed off before processing what Patton had said, “Did you just make a coffee pun?”

“Oh, no. Pat, don’t make another pun. He hates those.”

“I make puns when I’m nervous.” Patton squeaked.

“Alright then.” Logan blinked as he grabbed the two empty cups on the ground, “Why don’t you go ahead and grab the mop to clean this up? I’ll help you.”

“There’s absolutely no way he just brushed it off. Logan, you hate it when I make jokes! What is this treatment?”

Logan ignored Roman’s complaints.

“Don’t you have work, Egghead?” Roman chirped up as he finished brewing both cups needed.

“That can wait.” Logan cleared his throat as he looked to see that his coffee had also fallen in the process of being knocked over by Patton. He did not want to admit the main reason he was doing all this was because of Patton.

“I java mop now!” Patton chirped up as he walked in with a mop, getting ready to mop the ground.

“Another pun.” Logan stared at Patton before allowing him to mop the floor. Once it was cleaned, Logan turned to Roman to ask for another cup of caffè mocha.

“Now what is going on with you now, Logan?”

Logan really wanted Roman’s thoughts to shut up.

“Coming right up, Specs.” Roman winked at the man before turning away. Logan turned to Patton.

“I feel awful for spilling this on you. Surely I can do something for you. I'll do whatever beans necessary to fix your shirt.”

Logan ignored the pun. “There’s no need, Patton. I will just be on my way home after this to change my shirt before heading off to work.”

“Ah yes, the slave of capitalism.” Patton remarked, “The damn government back at it again, amirite?”

Well, fuck. Prettiest man Logan had ever laid eyes on, and hated the government just like him? Logan was screwed to say the least.

“Yes, you are correct in that aspect, but I must urge that there is no need to pay me back.”

“Let me at least pay for your dry-cleaning then.” Patton seemed uneasy to see Logan let the incident go, so Logan gave in and sighed.

“Alright, fine. Usually, my dry-cleaning bill is $5 per dress shirt. You can pay me by tipping your employer, Roman, that amount.”

Roman gave an indignant noise, but a look from Logan shut him up before he could protest.

“I’m not going to make my friend tip me, you ass.”

“Here’s your coffee, Book Germ.” Roman scoffed as he gave the new cup to Logan. Logan sipped it and nodded towards the two of them.

“Have a brew-tiful day, Logan!”

“See you tomorrow, same time.” Roman called out.

Before Logan left the building though, he caught Roman’s last few thoughts.

“I wonder if Logan felt pity because he could hear what Patton was thinking.”

Now that Logan had thought about it, he hadn’t heard Patton’s thoughts once throughout the entire process. He had no idea what Patton was thinking through the entirety of their interaction.

Maybe Patton was the start to the answers Logan was looking for.

Logan would have to come to the coffee shop more often, if that was the case. To assess Patton’s importance to Logan’s research.

…and maybe also to see him more in general.

#wolfprincesszola #echoes of 50 #logicality #logan sanders #patton sanders #tss bb #tss big bang 2024 #chapter 1 #roman sanders

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romanarose · 2 years ago

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Leather and Lace: Chapter 5

Santiago "Pope" Garcia X Fem!OC

Pervious chapter here : Next chapter

Fic master list

A/N: I'm so sorry this is just long as hell. I couldn't find a natural end and there was so much I wanted to include. Sorry it took so long. Hopefully a new chatper of Sunshine Starlight Sweetheart Brightside will be out this week.

The hat scene is based on a post by @copingchaos and @welcometostayingawake which I will link in at the scene, be sure to give the post a like and reblog!

Final A/N: I want to make a masterlist for this fic but I wanna have some nice art or something for it sooooo if anyone wanna draw something or make a mood board or something for this, I’ll include it in the masterlist and tag/link ur account and any pages you use for your art! Anything sent will be included, even little doodles so don’t be embarrassed!

Chapter Summary: We see Santi and Will's side of the argument when they went inside. Santi and Laci find a special time just for them and have a moment. Laci babysits Rosie will the guys have drinks.

******************

“Do you have ANY IDEA how close you came to dying, Pope? It’s a goddamn miracle you didn’t get your head blasted open! You and Ben could’ve died! Then what? Do we spit up the money again and give it to your non-existent family and pretend it’s okay? If Ben died, would you just give me a pat on the back and say ‘Oh, sorry!’ and move on?”

Pope couldn’t sleep. The day had riled him up too much. Him and Will, after Frankie chewed them out, had gone to the kitchen. Santi hated leaving her out on the porch. Hated more how jealous he felt of Benny. But he didn’t want to test Frankie’s patience.

“Is that what this is all about, Will?” Santi crossed him arms at his friend. “Jesus, go to therapy.”

“I don’t need therapy, I need to stop watching my friends get shot!”

“Will you shut up? Frankie is going to fucking kill us as it is.” There was a long, pregnant silence. “Listen, I’m sorry Ben got shot. You know I’m sorry. But Ben agreed with me, he said I should’ve stayed with her… Maybe you should-”

“Don’t tell me to take time out of the field, Pope.”

Santi raised his hands in defense. “Okay, okay. But I think we’re all going to maybe take some time off, Frakie wants to spend time with Rosie, Ben’s got physical therapy-”

“You’ve got the girl. Who you want to spend time with” He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow.

Pope rolled his eyes. “Can you stop being shitty about Laci? I’m trying to help her”

“Oh please” He countered. “You have way past doing your job. You got a thing for her, even if you won’t admit it.”

“She needs help, Will”

“You saved her life, you were supposed to bring her back to the embassy, and be done. Have you ever stopped to consider you are overstepping? Have you ever considered that maybe there's a reason soldiers aren’t supposed to take back trafficking victims to play house?”

Santi shook his head. He had considered that, of course. “That’s not what's happening here.”

“Are you telling me you wouldn’t fuck her if you had the chance?” Will challenged.

Santi pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re getting off topic here.” He diverted. “We’re here because you’re being a dick to her”

There was a pause and Santi watched a boatload of emotions dance across Will’s face as he searched for a smart ass answer. When nothing came, he simply agreed. “I know.”

“Then why are you being like this? I know you know damn well this isn’t her fault, and knowing you, you are going to start feeling really shitty about how you treated her.”

Will groaned dramatically. “I don’t know man! I know I can’t blame her for what happened but my subconscious does anyway.”

Santiago’s lips smirked up a bit at that. “Subconscious, huh? You sure you haven't been the therapy?”

Will flicked Santi’s head. “No, I took psych in high school.”

“Nerd.”

The men stood in silence, feeling better but also not feeling like everything had been spoken.

Will broke the silence again. “I’m sorry for how I’ve been. I just… I can’t help it sometimes.”

Santi knew he was sincere, but he also knew he had a duty to her. “Well you’re going to have to help it, man.” Santi crossed his arms. “Because for the time being, she’s going to be here, and if you want to be around me, you’ll have to be around her. And if you’re going to be around us, you’re going to have to be nice, because I’m not putting up with it anymore.”

Will closed his eyes “I know.”

“That girl has been kidnapped, raped, beaten, and god knows what else this last year, I’m not letting her put up with you bullshit too.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Will opened his eyes to look at Santi. He knew the protectiveness his friend felt over the girl was partially due to the loss of his sister, but he couldn’t help but feel there was another attachment here.

“Don’t say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” He nodded out the door.

Will gave a short laugh. “You gonna leave me alone with her long enough to apologize?”

“If you promise to behave.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah” Will headed for the door.

Laci said things were good, that they’d made it. She didn’t go into details and he didn’t ask. That was their business. But right now, he couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t abnormal, he didn’t sleep a lot. Right now, all he could think of was Tom’s head with blood oozing out. Santi shook his head like an etch-a-scetch, and stood up to get some food. Unsurprisingly, Laci was up watching Friends.

He popped back into his room to pull shorts over his boxers and a white tee shirt, mumbling. “Even’n Lace.” As he rubbed his eyes, walking behind the couch in the living room. Lace turned around, hopping up on her legs, looking over the couch. He sees the movement, and looks over to find her eyes following him. He could swear she was looking at his butt. He smirked at her “Need something?”

Her eyes flicked up to his, embarrassed at having been caught, she turned back to the tv and sat down.

“Ah, c’mon Munacita, I’m only teasing.” He waited until she glanced back at him. “You hungry”

She shrugged and smiled. ‘I could eat’

Santi heated up some pizza rolls, and brought a plate over to her. “Bon appetit, mademuasel.”

She grinned at him as she accepted the plate.

“G’night” Santiago began walking back to his room with his plate.

“Santiago?” She called after him, causing him to turn around.

“Yes?”

She nodded over to the seat next to her on the couch, and raised her eyebrows. ‘Join me?’

Santi knew damn well this was a slippery slope. He knew, really, that he shouldn't be indulging her in her little flirts. But she looked at him with her big hopefully eyes, how could he deny her like that? “Yeah, sure Lace” He sat down at the other end of the couch. “But we aren’t watching Friends.”

Laci grinned at him, bouncing over to sit next to him and handing him the remote. “Well you can’t sleep…” She spoke softly. “What do you watch?”

Santi was thankful for the dim lights, he was sure his embarrassment would show. “I um… it’s kinda silly”

She nudged him, urging him on.

“I like to watch old sitcoms”

Laci laughed at this. She smiled, shaking her head ‘That’s not silly’ She pointed at Friends still on the TV.

“Friends isn’t old!” Santiago insisted, suddenly very aware of their age gap, making him feel even more ashamed of the thoughts that had been creeping into his head.

She gave him a pointed look. “It’s older than me.”

Fuck, that made him feel old. “I meant, really old sitcoms. Dick Van Dyke, I love Lucy.”

She nodded to the TV while nuzzling up next to him. “Relax.” She told him, and he tried.

A few hours later, he wondered how he got there. How had Santi ended up laying down, stretched out on the couch, with Laci asleep in his arms?

That’s how they found themselves more nights than not. Santiago would join Laci on the couch, and slowly their bodies would come together, and she’d fall asleep in his arms in various entanglements. There was something natural in it. There was a bit of desire on Santi’s part, how could he not, with a party blonde girl in his arms?

When she woke up the first morning, Laci smiled at him. She looked at Santi like they were lovers waking up on a lazy Sunday morning. Laci climbed off of him as he stood up. Santi’s thoughts were racing. Why did he do that? Why did he let her lay on him? Why did he wrap his arms around her? Why didn't he get up? But when he looked at her all sleepy and smiling at him, he couldn’t find it to feel as guilty as he should’ve.

She looked at him, touching her back.

“Does your back hurt?” He asked

She shook her head and pointed at him. ‘No, does yours?’

Oh. She had been asking about him. “No, actually I feel great. I haven't slept that well in…” years. He thought. Santi didn’t finish the sentence. He changed the subject as he stood up. “Well, the whole day is free. No doctors, no therapy, nothing. What do you wanna do?”

Laci thought for a moment and shrugged.

“C’mon, we can do anything you want. Whole day, up to you, what grand plans do you have?”

Laci considered his words. After a moment, she made scissors with her fingers and went to her hand.

“A hair cut?!” Santi chuckled. “We can do anything, and you want a hair cut?”

She blushed, but shrugged.

“Okay, Munecita. A haircut it is.”

Santi had her pick wherever she wanted for breakfast. Starbucks, IHOP, some fancy brunch place, it was up to her. He tried to express that money was no issue, but wasn’t sure how to go about that without sounding like he was bragging. The moment he got the money, he was set for life. He could have lived in luxery without working a day in his life. But he did work. He needed something to do. They all did, needed something to take their minds off the horrors. Benny still fought. Fought in matches and in bars. Frankie had his beautiful daughter, Santi’s god daughter. Frankie also had coke, something that no one dared bring up. Will always seemed like he had it together, focusing on field work and making sure Benny didn’t get himself killed. Seemed like he had it together, until he didn’t. Incidents like this last week were reminders that Will had a lot of guilt over Tom’s death that no one addressed. And Santi? Santi had work. Constant work. He always had something going on, something to distract him from everything he had seen and done… and hadn’t done.

He knew that the guys thought, or at least wondered if that's what Laci was. A project. But Santi didn’t think so. There was so much more he wanted to know about her, wanted to do with her, time he wanted to spend…

Santiago went to a barber for his hair, but Benny had a recommendation for a hair stylist. He promised that she wouldn’t make a big deal about Laci not talking.

“You must be Benjamin’s friends! I’m Brit. You can take a seat at the first chair, I’ll be with you in a sec, hon” The stylist called over to Laci, then looked at Santi. “You getting a hair cut too? You look like you could use it.” She teased while washing items in the sink. “Nay has some free time, could squeeze you in?”

“No thanks, I’m-” Santo started, but felt a nudge. Laci was looking up at him, grinning and nodding. She looked so excited, how could he deny her. He sighed with a smile. “Okay, yeah I suppose I could use a trim.”

“Excellant!”

Santi walked over to where Brit was cleaning. “Hey uh, did Ben talk to you about her at all?”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, he told me how y’all found her. Horrible. Don’t worry, her cut is on the house.”

Santiago shook his head. “No, no I’m paying for hers, don’t worry ‘bout that. Thing is, she doesn’t talk much. Sometimes at all, she has pictures for what she wants, but she can’t really reply unless it’s yes or no…”

“Don’t worry hon, I understand, I’ll keep it simple.”

He smiled. “Thank you.” Santi began walking away, but turned around. “Is there any like… hair treatments or something… nice? I asked her what she wanted to do today, all she asked for was a hair cut… Is there anything I can add to make it nicer for her?”

Brit gave him a knowing look. “Yeah, I’ll check out her hair, see what she needs.”

Laci and Santi spent the next few hours in the chairs, it was almost like a spa day. Much of Laci’s hair had been damaged from a year of no care and malnutrition, so she got much of it cut off, holding up a picture for reference on the phone Santi had bought her.. Brit had opted for a keratin treatment to strengthen her hair. Laci had asked (via her notes app) about highlights, but Brit was concerned about the integrity of her hair at the moment, and suggested they come back in a few months and recommended hair skin and nails pills.

Santi got a trim, and Laci gave him pleading eyes to get the keratin treatment. Nay suggested he get a deep conditioning for his curls, and Laci allowed it. Together, they relaxed as the soft music played. Nay and Brit were thankful for not having to make conversation, and Santi secretly enjoyed being pampered.

“Jeez, whatever you and Benny do for work, if you wanna send more coworkers my way, feel free”

Santi had left a generous tip, and he knew Benny would’ve as well. They were very popular wherever they were regulars at.

The next two weeks were something akin to domestic. During the day, they took turns cooking for each other. Well, “cooking” Santi could get by with a few Guatemalan recipes, but he tended to rely on burgers, microwave food, and pastas. He generally was in charge of lunch. Laci took on dinner. She was better at cooking than him. Some recipes, a white girl from St. Louis probably wouldn’t know, and Santi figured she had learned in her year of captivity. It occurred to him that they never really talked about what happened. He supposed that's what her therapists were for. Laci had given him access to all her medical and psych records, something Santi never took advantage of or even asked for. Laci had given permission for her psych to talk to Santi about what they talked about, she signed everything away to Santi. He was all she had. He could, if he wanted, find out everything they had done. But Santiago didn’t want to find out that way. If she wanted him to know, she could tell him. He didn’t want to invade her privacy. She deserved to be allowed secrets, even if she had given up her rights to any.

More nights than not, she fell asleep in his arms. it had become routine. If they couldn’t sleep, they’d meet on the couch and watch old sitcoms. More nights than not, she laid on his chest. And tonight? Tonight he was regretting it. Not regretting it enough to stop, however. Not enough to move, to get up, to get away from her. Not when she was so close to him. Laci had sat up on his chest, her hands tracing over his face. He was tired, too tired, and the soft glow of TV bounced off her face. She was beautiful. Her haircut was chin length, a style that worked well for her straight blonde hair. Despite his best judgment, he reached up to touch her face. Laci’s fingers trailed his hairline, his cheekbones, his jaw, and softly over his bottom lip. He fought her urge to take her fingers in his mouth, but this was more innocent. Something pure, delicate and new. He didn’t want to ruin what was happening, even if he knew he should walk away. Her skin was still pale, but had gained color in its cheek’s, a bit of pink on her face that matched the shade of her lips. A shade that matched the color of pink she generally likes to wear.

Laci leaned into his touch, and before he could stop himself, he lifted his face to hers. For a moment, their lips merely brushed together, an air of hesitancy like a teenage crush, like a first kiss stifled by nervousness and awkward touches. Finally, the hand on her face gently entwined in her thin hair, bringing her to his mouth ever-so carefully. It wasn’t a demand, it wasn’t an insistence, it was a guide. ‘Come here’ it said ‘let me love you, please’. The kiss was a plea. ‘Let me love you, let me love you, let me love you’ from who to whom, Santi didn’t know. Was Santiago asking to let him protect her and love her and help her, or was Laci asking him to open up, to know and be known by him.

There was no tongue, no fever, no wet, hot kisses and lascivious touching. Just his lips on hers, slow and kind, her gentle touch on her face begging him not to pull away. He only did so for moments long enough to check on her, only to see her smiling dreamily at him before one of them went back to the languid affection. There was a tightness in his chest, nervous to be seen so openly. It was a vulnerability he really shared. His job, the way he lived his life, had prevented him from normal relationships. This felt like a new start, a brand new thing not only with them, not only between him and the pretty girl in his arms, but within himself. There was something in him that had been laid to the ground with every military move, everyone had had to kill, everyone he watched be killed. Every kiss he planted on her lips brought new life; the hand in her head secured her to him, begged her to stay, stay, stay with me Laci, please. Something that had been burried deeper with every time he watched his friends get shot, every member of his family who died, all that was being brought to the surface with every faint, soft brush of her lips and the tender touch of her hand on his stubbled face. He didn’t want to stop. He wondered if he could stop time, what he would give to keep them like this, safe in each other’s arms for ever.

But he did stop, he had to. If he didn’t, he’d take things further. He would already regret this in the morning, he didn’t need to give into every carnel desire he had. Laci smiled, giving him one last kiss on the cheek before laying her head down on his chest. Tomorrow was for regret; tomorrow was for feeling shitty. Tonight was for nothing but thoughts of her lips, and the comforting touch of her hand.

The next day

“You two ready yet?” Will called out to Santiago and Laci in the doorway. Will was the DD for tonight.

Ben was already half drunk. “LET’S GOOOOOO”

“Benny, shut the fuck up or I swear to god I’m leaving you here”

“Hey!” Santiago Garcia emerged from his room. “You’re not leaving a drunk Ben alone in my house.”

“He’s gonna get in a fucking fight tonight and I’m too sober to deal with this.”

Santi patted his friend on his back. This was Will’s apology for being a dick at the BBQ.

Laci practically skipped out of her room. She wore white overalls over her pink undershirt, and was beaming. Frankie had asked her to babysit Rosie so the guys could have a few hours out. Santi had he feeling it was primarily for Laci’s benefit, but he was nervous. Him and Laci had been attached at the hip since the moment he found her, hardly being separated. She always had him in the room with her for doctors, and if she was in therapy, he stayed in the waiting room. For any meeting for social workers and things of that sort, he was always in the room, translating or relaying messages, depending on how verbal she was that day. This was the first time they would be separated by anything more than a few yards.

“Frankie is going to fucking kill you” Santi commented when he saw the hat Benny was wearing. It said ‘women want me, fish fear me’ from some tik tok audio.

Benny grinned. “I’m counting on it!”

“You change your goddamn ringtone yet?”

“Absolutely not!” Benny had set his ringtone to “Benny and the Jet’s” months ago, and it was driving the guys insane. Laci seemed to think it was funny. Every time it went off while they watched Always Sunny, Santi groaned, and Laci giggled.

Will started to drag Ben back to the Jeep. “Who still has a ringtone anymore?” He mutters as everyone loads up, heading to Frankies next.

Laci held Santi’s hand as she usually did when they left their house, but as soon as Laci spotted Rosie, his hand and him became irrelevant. She scooped the toddler off the floor, and began whispering praises to the giggling girl. She talked to Rosie more than Santi.

“Two peas in a pod” Frankie commented and he put the food on the high chair. Then he spotted Benny’s hat. “Take that god damn shit off!” He tried to grabbed it off Ben’s head.

Ben yelped but doged Frankies grasp. He ran around the counters, tailed by Fish, mimicking the audio. “Women want me, Fish fears me”

Frankie chased the boy around the living room.“I don’t fear shit, Jackass, fuck off” Frankie grabbed the hat off Ben’s head.

“Hey!” The whole group of men turned to see Laci covering Rosie’s ears. She nodded to the baby. “Language” she scolded.

“Yeah, Fish, l a n g u a g e!” and took his hat back.

Frankie sighed, one battle at a time. He turned to Laci. “This is her dinner, she’ll fight you over it for a while but I promise she’ll eat it, just gotta keep at her. If she gets too messy you can give her a bath, but I think she’ll be okay. Bedtime is 7, but she gets really excited with new people, so if she doesn’t go to sleep, don’t sweat it. Help yourself to anything in the fridge or whatever, remote for the TV is on the coffee table. Don’t worry about dishes or anything. Any questions?”

Laci looked like she was mentally noting everything in her brain. She shook her head.

“Great. Any questions, you have my number, you can text Santi if that’s easier. I’ll set the security before I go, theres camera’s in the living room. Not that I don’t trust you, I don’t trust the outside. Years of military makes me paranoid.”

Laci nodded, smiling and still holding the little girl.

Santi spoke up. “I think I’m gonna sit tonight out guys.”

Everyone, including Laci, turned to him.

“What?” Ben asked.

“I’m kinda tired, I think I’ll just stay in with Lace and Rosie tonight”

“You stay in with Laci EVERY NIGHT, Pope.” The shots Benny had taken had loosened his mouth. “Jesus Christ she’ll be okay for a few hours.”

“No, that's not it-”

Ben scoffed loudly “Oh yes it is! Come one, give her a little freedom”

Santi glared at Ben’s comment. “Freedom? Ben, I’m not keeping her captive.”

Laci handed Rosie to Will, who took her with a smile and a kiss. Laci took Santi’s hand and dragged the irritated man to the hall. “Santi, it’s okay. I can handle a one year old”

He sighed, momentarily distracted by her pink lips, that only last night were on his. “I know you can, I just…”

“I know I havn’t…” Laci shuffled a bit. “I don’t really let you go anywhere, I don’t want to keep you back…” She looked up at him, her thoughtful blue eyes on him.

He softened for her. “Oh Lace, no, you aren’t keeping me back, not at all. I… I enjoy our time… together…” he trialed off, both of them thinking about last night, the kiss… neither had talked about it.

“Santi, I promise it’ll be okay. I’ll text you if anything goes wrong, or if I get anxious or something, okay?”

Santi considered this. It had been a long time since he had a chance to get loose with the guys, and Ben and Frankie promised to provide some entertainment… “Okay, yeah, just… keep me updated, okay?”

She lit up at that. “I promise”

They walked out of the hall, everyone turned to them, Laci smiled “Parties on.”

With a loud bunch of cheers from the guys, everyone got ready to go. Frankie gave Rosie a bunch of kisses and when everyone else had left, Santi kissed Laci on the cheek. “Have fun.” and tickled Rosie before he left. Benny absolutely saw that.

A few hours and a few shots in, Ben brought it up. “So, you two finally kissing” He said out of nowhere.

Everyone turned to Santi, whose cheeks were flushed with a bit of pink. “What are you talking about, jackass.”

“Everyone’s calling me a jackass tonight!” He exclaimed. Benny wiggled his eyebrows. “I saw you kiss her when we left.”

“What?” Will exclaimed. Frankie was not surprised.

“Listen” Santi defended himself. “It was a kiss on the cheek” there was a pause, as no one seemed to beleive him. “There might have been… some kissing last night.” A loud ooooooo from Ben. “No, no, not like that. And I should havn’t done that” Santi shook his head. “That’s not why I took her in.”

“Well…” Will started, but stopped, hesitating.

“Whatever it is, say it.” Santi groaned, finishing his drink and ordering another round for the guys sans Will.

“I just mean, it’s not the only reason. But I think it was somewhere in the back of your mind.”

Santi looked indignant. “I didn’t move her in to coerce her into sex, Will”

“I didn’t say that!” He raised his hands defensively. “I just mean, she’s a pretty girl, you’re a good looking guy who has been very nice to her,” he stifled a smirk “it’s natural that theres gonna be some… attraction.” Will tried to remain polite.

“Listen.” Santi scrubbed his face. “I’m well aware that she might find me…” He tried to find the right words without sounding braggadocious. “Appealing” he said he a smile, earning laughs from the guys. “But” he got more serious. “I don’t want her to feel like she is obligated to do anything.”

“Santi.” It was Fish’s turn. “I don’t think she feels like that. You treat her like a porcelain doll, she feels safe with you.”

Santi wasn’t relenting. “And I plan on keeping it that way. Lace is still in a high emotional state, I don’t know if she’s thinking clearly, and I’m not going to take advantage of that.”

Ben took another shot. “So what you’re saying is, when she gets more settled, you would go for it”

The alcohol flowed through Santi, taking back his usual inhibitions when he spoke. A smile quipped up at his lips. “All I’m saying is… I enjoy spending time with her, and I wouldn’t mind if she wanted toooooo, continue that” Oh yeah. Yeah he was drunk.

This evoked a round of cheers from the guys, and Frankie ordering more drinks.

A ding on Santi’s phone. When he looked at the screen he smiled.

Frankie looked over. “Everything alright with our girls?”

Our girls

“Yeah, they are great.” He show Frankie, then Benny and Will the picture. Rosie was fast asleep in her bed, Laci laying next to her smiling. Yeah, he was saving that picture.

Laci woke up on the couch, Will very softly whispering for her to wake up, careful not to scare her. “Hey”

Laci gave a sleepy little wave, but was concerned there was no Santi.

“Listen, I just got Frankie to bed, Santi is… drunk off his ass.” He chuckled. “Let’s get you guys home so I get throw Ben on his front porch and be done with him.”

Laci’s face falters, and Will assured her he was joking and would get Ben to bed safely. She stood up, glancing over to the room Rosie was in.

“I already checked on her, but you can say goodbye if you want.”

Laci shook her head, she didn’t want to wake her.

When she got in the car, it was clear Santi and Ben were DRUNK drunk. Will had shoved them in the back, opening the passenger door for Laci. The whole ride home, Ben and Santi alternated music. Despite his earlier insistence that he didn’t like Luis Fonsi, he sure sang No me Doy Por Vecino loud as hell. Benny did too, even if he couldn’t pronounce the words. Laci looked over to the older Miller, who was glancing at his brother and his friend in the rearview mirror as they screeched out ‘Una senal del destino’ the top of their lungs, gripping to each other dramatically. Will was not as irritated as he pretended to be. He turned to see Laci catching him smiling.

“They’re funny.” He defended.

Will practically had to carry Santi’s short body to the bed. Laci was grateful for him, there was no way she’d get him there. She took off his shoes as Will practically forced him to drink water.

“STOP WATER BOARDING ME!” Santi half yelled, half laughed.

“I’M NOT WATER BOARDING YOU, I’M TRYING TO HELP YOUR HANGOVER AFTER ALL THOSE SHOTS, DUMBASS”

Laci stood up, gesturing for the cup. She stood over Santiago, who was sitting on the edge of the bed. Will watched as she held the cup to his lips with one hand, and carefully coaxed his head back with the other. The way Santi looked up at her… he was done for. Laci had his wrapped around her finger, and likely had from the moment he saw her. His large brown eyes watched her face as she watched the cup, far more careful with him than Will had been. Santi drank every bit of the water, and Laci patted his head, leaning into whisper “good job, baby“ Suddenly, she looked up, turning around to see Will. She had forgotten he was there. Santi laid down on the bed, mumbling something in Spanish they couldn’t understand.

His face flushed a deep pink as her eyes widened in panic.

“Hey, hey,” Will Miller held up his hands, before pretending to zip his mouth shut. He mimiacked locking his mouth, handing over the key to her. Laci smiled and tentatively took the metaphorical key, tucking it in he roveral pocket.

“You guys gonna be okay here?”

Laci nodded.

“Okay, call me me if he asphyxiates on his vomit or something.” Pope had put all the guys numbers in her phone as soon as he bought it, incase of emergencies.

She looked panicked again.

“Oh! Oh no, I was joking. Sorry, dry humor.”

This didn't comfort her. Now she was worried about him choking.

He sighed, but smiled. “Here” Will moved Santi to his side. “If he’s on his side, he’ll be fine” Will promised.

Feeling better, Laci nodded

“Okay, I’m gonna get going. Leaving a drunk Ben alone is a bad idea, he’s probably fighting a racoon as we speak.

Laci laughed and waved goodbye.

When he was out the door, she locked it behind him and set up Santi’s extensive security system. She went back to check on him, sitting on the edge of the bed. When was sure he was asleep, she played with his beautiful, thick hair. “Thank you for everything. I don’t say it enough, but thank you. I owe you everything. Te amo.” A kiss on his forehead. “Te amo, Santiago” Laci climbed into the other side of the bed, not wanting to leave him alone. Will’s joke had worried her. She was going to watch out for him the way he watched out for her.

**************

I hope y'all liked the kiss bc I wanted to write it really fucking sweet. Their first kiss was impulsive, but I wanted this to be slow, deliberate.

I used a piccrew maker to make how I picture Laci when she was found, and then after she had been with Santi and got her hair cut this chapter, which you can find here for reference

Also I'm working on a spotify playlist for this fic, if you have any suggestions go ahead and comment! Its gonna have leather and lace by stevie nicks (duh) some luis fonsi (duh) Selena, etc. if you have any songs you feel fit this fic, comment them here!

Also, writing dialoge that switched between 4/5 people is hard, im sorry if it was confusing.

be sure to follow the leather and lace fic tag, and if you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list let me know!!! smut is coming i swear

relbogs help a lot and comments mean the world! love y'all and thank you so much for the support y'all have given to this story!

@littlenosoul @bensolosbluesaber @milkymoon2483 @gogh-with-the-flow @itspdameronthings @trinkets01 @p0edameronswife

#leather and lace fic #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia #santi garcia #santi garcia x oc #santi garcia fluff #santi garcia hurt comfort #santiago garcia fluff #fluff #hurt comfort #oscar isaac fanfiction #benjamin miller #benjamin benny miller #frankie catfish morales #will ironhead miller

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neonlights92 · 4 years ago

Text

Night Changes: PART TWO

Jeon Jungkook has spent the last twenty years alone. Single. Solo.

And that’s just the way he likes it. That is, until he meets the supposed love of his life. Suddenly he’s falling over himself at the chance of a real relationship with someone.

The only thing getting in his way? You.

genre: fuckboy!jungkookie, college!jungkookie, romcom, e2l (kinda)

AN: I am so fuckin soft for college Kook you wouldn’t even belieeeeeve

Within days of their ‘truce’, Jungkook realises what a huge dickhead he truly is for not remembering Y/N’s name.

She shares his timetable almost entirely.

“I’m the worst.” He bemoans after a particularly stressful lecture on American poetry, “You weren’t kidding when you said you were in all my classes.”

“Almost all your classes.” She laughs a little at the look on his face and shrugs, “I did tell you.”

“It makes perfect sense now why you hate me.”

Y/N nudges him playfully and shakes her head, “I don’t hate you.” “Yes you do.” He sniffles dramatically, “And you should. I’m an asshole.”

She pulls a face, “Now what am I meant to do here? Tell you that you’re not an asshole? That would be lying.” Jungkook reaches for his heart theatrically and frowns.

“I deserve that.”

She scoffs playfully, “Shut up, Jungkook.”

It’s been exactly four days since Jungkook and Y/N began to hatch their plan to try and get their respective soulmates to fall in love with them.

And though Y/N’s original idea was to host some kind of movie night at her apartment Jungkook has been slowly persuading her into throwing a full blown party. Park Jimin is an absolute animal, Jungkook promises her (that’s a huge stretch, but what college student doesn’t like alcohol and loud music?) and throwing a party is a surefire way to get him to agree to coming.

But Y/N isn’t so easily swayed.

“I’m going to make it up to you,” Jungkook tells her confidently, “I’m going to make sure that you and Jimin get together, and then when you have beautiful babies together you’ll be thanking me. And we’ll forget all about the incredibly unfortunate way we met each other.” Y/N’s smile is soft, but Jungkook sees it.

“I know you will,” She says, “I have faith in your matchmaking abilities, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Which reminds me….Did you think about what I said, Y/N?”

Jungkook has to admit - he really likes having her around. Try as he might at first to have seen the worst in her, he has to admit Y/N’s not half bad.

“About the party?”

He winks, “Bingo!”

“It’s a bad idea.”

“Oh my god-”

“No, because I’m such a wallflower,” She insists, shaking her head firmly, “Jimin will just think I’m boring.”

“I’ll help you come out of your shell. I’ve told you that already. It will be like a life lesson for you - a chance to shine in the spotlight.”

“I don’t shine,” Y/N is whining now, “It’s stupid to even try.”

“No it’s not,” Jungkook insists, “Everybody shines. In their own way. Everybody.” He feels kind of awful for her.

How can she even think that way about herself?

“You don’t - it’s not. C’mon Jungkook I can’t-”

“What about the night we met?” Jungkook interrupts, as the two round the corner of Jungkook’s street, “You were partying then, weren’t you? You were shining then?” She flushes, “That’s different.”

“How?” She shuts her eyes for a moment. Jungkook worries he might have pushed her too far. He slips his bottom lip between his teeth and just as he opens his mouth to apologise she sighs heavily.

“It’s stupid.”

He brushes a hand over her shoulder, “It’s not.”

Her eyes open and he’s taken aback by the softness there.

He wants to reach out and maybe pat her cheek but he decides against it. Fuckboy or not, Jungkook is not the kind of guy to do that. Is he? No. He isn’t.

Besides. Soomi.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll throw the damn party. But you’re helping me with everything, okay?”

Jungkook feels something like electricity shoot up his ass. (He won’t ever tell anyone else he thought that.)

“Yes! This is going to be perfect Y/N I swear. Jimin will love it. So will you,” He grins like he’s hit the jackpot, “It’s the last day of semester in three weeks time. We’ll use that as a reason okay? And we’ll plan everything together. It will be amazing.” Y/N’s eyes dart across Jungkook’s face nervously.

She seems to be looking for something - what he’s not sure - but after a moment she nods.

“Fine. Okay. End of semester,” Her lips fall into a small smile, “Do you think this will work?”

They stop at the entrance of Jungkook’s building.

“It’s perfect Y/N. I swear. Just perfect.”

When her smile widens Jungkook thinks he’s never seen her look better.

“I’m trusting you Jungkook.” She narrows her eyes playfully, “Don’t fuck it up.”

He crosses his index finger across his chest and nods determinedly.

“Trust me, Y/N. We’ll have Park Jimin eating out of your hand before you know it.”

And he really believes it, too.

The next day Jungkook runs into Y/N at lunchtime. He hasn’t seen her in any of his classes today and when he texts her to tell her this, she reminds him that Friday is the only day they don’t share a timetable.

He has to admit he’s kind of bummed.

So when he finds himself wandering into the campus garden with Hoseok trailing less than enthusiastically behind him, his eyes zero in on her immediately.

She’s eating some kind of burrito - probably extra spicy as she’s told him that’s the only way to eat Mexican food - and reading a book. Of course she’s reading a book.

Nerd.

“Hey Hobi let’s go sit over there.” He points her out to his friend and Hoseok raises a brow.

“Who’s that?” “Y/N.”

“Y/N?” His brow raises even higher if possible, “Y/N as in the girl you slept with who’s name you can’t remember and who’s roommate you are in love with? And who you’ve promised to help set up with Park Jimin? That Y/N.” Jungkook frowns, “Well when you say it like that…” He rolls his eyes, “Shut up. Let’s just go.” Hoseok shrugs and follows his friend - what good will it do him to argue anyway? - and when Jungkook reaches his destination he clears his throat noisily. Y/N looks up and Jungkook notices she’s wearing a pair of thick-framed glasses. He has to admit… She looks kind of adorable in them.

The moment recognition dawns on her face, Y/N’s lips lift.

“Hi.” Jungkook’s smile widens when she grins up at him.

“Hi.” She shifts slightly, “What are you uh - doing here?” “Stalking you obviously,” Jungkook takes a seat beside her on the blanket she’s set up to eat on, and gestures for Hoseok to do the same, “This is my friend Hoseok. The one I said dances with your boyfriend.” She wrinkles her nose and flushes, “Jungkook! He’s not my boyfriend.” She turns to Hoseok and smiles softly, “Hi.”

Hoseok - to his credit - doesn’t seem to mind the Jimin comment. He smiles back at her.

“Hi Y/N.”

Jungkook unwraps the dismal lunch he’s made himself - a sweetcorn and tuna salad - and gestures to the book sitting in Y/N’s lap.

“What’s that?”

She looks down and then up, “Oh. It’s uh - god. It’s stupid.” Jungkook quirks a brow, “C’mon tell me. What is it.” She hesitates for a second and then rolls her eyes, seemingly accepting her fate.

Jungkook almost wants to remind her that they’re friends - she shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of him - but he stays quiet.

She lifts the book to show him the cover.

“It’s a book on gaining confidence.” Her shoulders shrug, “I thought it might help. Y’know… With the whole…” Her eyes flit over to Hoseok briefly, “Jimin thing.”

Hoseok chuckles and it catches Jungkook off guard.

He’d almost forgotten his friend was there.

“That’s adorable,” Hoseok comments, “Man if a girl did that for me I’d be beyond flattered.” Y/N’s cheeks flush and she shakes her head, “No - I mean. I don’t know. It’s not just for him…”

“Still.” She bites her bottom lip and shrugs, “I mean I guess. Yeah. He should be flattered.” Hoseok laughs again and Jungkook has a sneaking suspicion his friend might be flirting.

He doesn’t like that.

Y/N is not for Hoseok. Not at all.

“Well she’s not reading the book for you,” Jungkook tells him, trying to control his anger, “She’s reading it for Jimin.” Hoseok raises a brow. He takes a moment and then smiles again.

“I gathered.”

Jungkook spends the rest of the lunch break trying to stop whatever weird energy Hoseok and Y/N have going on.

There is absolutely no way in hell that Jung Hoseok thinks he can just swoop in and ruin all his plans, right? Y/N needs to fall in love with Jimin. Park Jimin needs to be the one laughing with her and smiling at her and flirting with her.

He’s absolutely livid by the time Y/N scurries off to class.

“What the fuck was that?” Hoseok pulls a face, “What?”

“That. That… Flirting. What was that?” Jungkook has barely even touched his lunch (and it’s got nothing to do with the absolute miserable state of it, he swears.)

Hoseok seems confused for only a moment later. Then his face opens up.

“Oh, right.” He shakes his head, “I wasn’t flirting, Jungkook.” Jungkook hates the look on his friend’s face. Like he knows something Jungkook doesn’t.

“What’s that look for Hoseok?” Hobi chuckles and shakes his head, “Nothing Jungkook. Absolutely nothing.” Jungkook spends the rest of the day thinking about that godforsaken look.

Jungkook wakes up the next morning (which thank god happens to be a Saturday,) to a text message from Y/N. He’s been trying to convince her to use more emojis - but she refuses.

Secretly, he finds her texting kind of cute.

But he’ll never tell her that.

Y/N: Are you free today?

Jungkook: as a bird. what did you have in mind?? :)

Y/N: It’s my birthday. Soomi is taking me out bowling. Wanna come?

Jungkook feels his heart swim all the way up to his throat.

Soomi? And wait what - it’s Y/N’s birthday? He’s sort of offended she only brought it up now.

Jungkook: uhhh… what?? happy fuckin birthday y/n!!! ur naughty!!! birthday ??? why didnt you tell me yesterday???

Y/N: You’re an English Lit student. Use proper vocabulary and grammar please. And I don’t know I didn’t think it was a big deal.

Jungkook: u cant change me boo… u just text like a granny. its your birthday stupid ofc its a big deal. mind if i invite some of my friends??

It’s a few minutes before Y/N finally replies.

Y/N: Yeah. Sure. Meet us at Blue Pins in an hour?

Jungkook: c u there… birthday girl!!!!!

Y/N: Ugh.

Jungkook smiles at the way she still acts like she hates him even though he knows she doesn’t really.

It really is the start of a beautiful friendship.

An hour later Jungkook finds himself sat in a booth with Hoseok, Taehyung and Namjoon, nervously tapping his fingers against the surface of the table.

Hoseok clicks his tongue loudly and grabs his friend's hand from across the booth. His eyes are narrowed a little.

“Will you calm down?” “Are you kidding?” Jungkook’s eyes are as wide as a pair of saucers, “I’m about to meet the woman I’m going to marry.”

Hoseok scoffs at that and Taehyung scrolls through his phone, bored as always.

After a moment, Taehyung clears his throat, “He said yes.”

Jungkook feels like his heart has just fallen out of his asshole.

“What?”

“Jimin said yes,” Taehyung rolls his eyes, almost as if he’s annoyed at this spectacular outcome, “He’ll come to Y/N’s party at the end of the semester..”

“Oh fuck YES!” Jungkook fist pumps the air in joy as Hoseok chuckles in delight.

“You’re overreacting,” Namjoon tells his friend seriously, “Jimin coming does not equal Jimin falling in love with Y/N.”

“It gets me one step closer though,” Jungkook feels lighter already, “And one step closer to that means one step closer to Soomi falling in love with me.”

Namjoon snorts out a laugh, “Stop it.”

“What?” Jungkook takes a swig from the cappuccino he insisted on ordering as soon as they arrived, “It’s true.”

“You’re not seriously thinking you’re in love with this girl Jungkook?” Hoseok’s eyes dance with mirth, “I know you man.”

“What do you mean?”

Hoseok raises a dubious brow, “You’re the ultimate fuckboy.”

“I am not.”

“Yes. You are.” Taehyung tacks on helpfully, “Notoriously so, actually.”

“Shut up.”

Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it but he knows his friends are kind of right. Sue him - he’s young and handsome and he’s in college. Everybody fucks around in college.

“And anyway I don’t actively pursue girls unless I have the intention of taking it somewhere.” Jungkook crosses his arms, “A fuckboy I may be, but a dickhead I am not.”

“Says the guy who forgot Y/N’s name after a vigorous night of lovemaking.” Namjoon grins like the cat who got the cream and Jungkook wants to smack him.

“You can thank your dear friend Kim Taehyung for that.” Jungkook replies sharply, narrowing his eyes at his so-called childhood best friend.

Taehyung gasps like he can’t believe what Jungkook’s just said.

“Seven tequilas on an empty stomach is never a good idea Tae,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “You kept insisting.”

Taehyung answers with a flippant wave of his hand, eyes finally moving away from his phone, “Whatever. You’re an adult, right? You could’ve said no.”

“Not when free alcohol is involved.” “Anyway Kookie, the point is you can’t be in love.” Hoseok leans back like he’s just discovered the meaning to life. Always so smug.

Jungkook can’t help but find it a little annoying.

“And how, oh wise one, are you coming to this conclusion?” Jungkook’s tone is dripping with sarcasm. He raises a brow at his friend and gives him the most pointed look he can manage.

It’s still Hoseok and Jungkook has to admit he respects his opinion the most.

“Because you’re you. And you barely know this girl.” Hoseok rolls his eyes, “That’s how.”

“I find that offensive,” Jungkook retorts, “People are allowed to change and grow. Now I’ve met Soomi I’m different.”

Namjoon shakes his head, “There’s no point, Hobi. We all tried, believe me. But he’s decided that he’s in love with her. Just get on board with it.”

Jungkook sends Hoseok a toothy grin once he swallows the last of the cappuccino and nods emphatically.

He knows what his friends think of him.

That he’s slutty and careless. That commitment scares the shit out of him. That he’s incapable of monogamy. A combination of all of the above.

But Jungkook knows the truth. He didn’t want a girlfriend before this because he hadn’t met someone that made sense to him.

And what’s the point of being with someone unless you’re all in?

“Anyway when you’re guests at our wedding it’ll all make sense,” Jungkook pushes his empty coffee cup to the side, “We’re meant to be.”

Taehyung laughs at this - despite himself - and Hoseok and Namjoon chuckle too.

“Jungkook?” The sound of someone calling his name causes him to turn quickly, eyes widening when he sees who it is. Y/N. She’s smiling at him of course - but that’s not what causes Jungkook to almost go into cardiac arrest.

No. Of course not.

It’s the beautiful angel standing beside Y/N that causes him to almost forget how to breathe.

“Hi,” He squeezes out despite himself, eyes riveted to Soomi’s beautiful face, “Hi.”

Soomi smiles and Jungkook is immediately breathless.

“Jungkook right? Y/N’s… Friend.” The suggestive tone annoys Jungkook - he can’t have Soomi thinking he belongs to anyone else but her - and he nods.

“Yeah.” “But just a friend now,” Y/N pipes up helpfully, “We… Uh… Worked through our differences. And now we’re friends. Just friends. Totally platonic.” Jungkook thinks she’s kind of overkilling the whole thing but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he smiles at Soomi and watches as her face puts two and two together.

Yes. Yes.

Jungkook wants her - no he needs her to know that he’s single.

Really single.

Totally single and available and hers.

Namjoon clears his throat somewhere from Jungkook’s left. He turns to his friends and nods quickly.

“Right. Yes of course. My friends - these are my friends. Taehyung and Namjoon, and Y/N you’ve already met Hoseok.” The two share a small wave. Jungkook ignores the stab of annoyance that sends to his gut.

“Hi,” Soomi smiles in a way Jungkook is sure is almost too heavenly to be real, “I’m Soomi.” God. He really is a goner.

Jungkook doesn’t want to brag, but he is pretty good at bowling.

Okay. Who’s he kidding?

He totally wants to brag.

The moment Y/N splits them up into two teams - Soomi, Jungkook and her versus Namjoon, Hoseok and Taehyung - he’s determined to win.

He has to win.

He has to show Soomi one of his many, many, many talents.

“You’re pretty good at this,” Soomi remarks as he throws his first strike, “Or is that just beginner’s luck?”

Jungkook shakes his head and shrugs, “I’d say I’m pretty good.”

Her giggle is music to his ears.

“That’s impressive. What kind of girl doesn’t want a man who can throw a strike?”

Jungkook smirks, “That’s what I always say.” Her eyes crinkle at the side when she smiles and though it's not quite as adorable as Y/N’s - he’ll never admit this out loud - she still looks so sweet his heart constricts almost painfully in his chest. He forgets for a moment where he is, laying on the charm thick.

“Is that how you seduce poor unsuspecting women then? With your bowling skills?”

He winks in that way that usually works and his smirk widens, “You know it!”

Soomi giggles again and Jungkook is surprised at how smoothly this all seems to be going - when the sound of somebody throwing a gutter grabs his attention.

His eyes lift - thinking it has to be the other team - and he furrows his brow when he sees Y/N standing at the very top of the bowling lane, staring at the full set of pins in front of her.

Holy shit.

Jungkook momentarily forgets about Soomi - his competitive nature kicked into overdrive - as he shoots up from his seat and rushes towards Y/N.

“Oh my god,” He’s right beside her in an instant, “Was that you?”

Y/N looks up at him - cheeks flushed - and nods, “Yeah. I’m terrible at bowling.”

“So why would you choose to come here? On your birthday?”

Jungkook is somewhere between disbelief and pure horror. But he has to admit, the look on her face is sort of funny. She’s mortified.

“Soomi suggested it. She said it might be fun,” She looks away for a moment, “For her maybe.”

The sound of someone scoring a strike blares to Jungkook’s left and when he sees Taehyung performing some kind of ridiculous victory dance, he decides enough is enough.

“No. No.” Jungkook sets his jaw, “I’m going to help you.”

Y/N’s brow lifts, “What?” “I’m going to help you. You’re going to score a strike.”

She snorts out a laugh.

“I don’t think you realise how truly terrible I am at this.”

“And I don’t think you realise how truly competitive I am,” He gestures to the balls, “Grab the lime green. That’s the lightest.”

Y/N watches him for a moment longer. She looks behind him and moves her hand in the general direction of Soomi.

“What about Soomi?” He flares his nostrils, “She’ll still be there after I finish helping you.”

Y/N stares at him, and when Jungkook cocks his head towards the row of balls lining the back of the bowling alley, she shrugs and follows his command.

Jungkook takes this as a moment to teach Y/N how to shine.

After all, what better way to fell good about yourself than being good at something you always thought you sucked at?

When Y/N comes back with the lime green ball, he grabs her free arm and positions her to stand with her back to his chest, wordlessly.

“Woah.” Y/N breathes, “What are you doing?”

Jungkook’s mouth is right beside her ear, “Just follow me okay? I’m helping you, I swear.”

He slides his hand down to the ball and grips her fingers carefully.

“Don’t hold too much tension in your wrist,” He tells her sternly, “You’re too tense. You’re always too tense. Relax.” Something strange passes between them. Y/N takes a long, deep breath, and Jungkook tries to concentrate on the task at hand.

“Now slowly, slowly, bring the ball back,” Y/N follows Jungkook’s movements, “And… Release.”

He helps her flick it onto the lane, and they watch in suspense as the ball spins towards the pins. There is almost a moment where everything is suspended in time - before the ball crashes with the pins and nine of them fall down.

Y/N squeals in happiness and turns around sharply, throwing her arm around Jungkook’s neck and pressing herself against him in a hug.

“Thank you Jungkook!” She is smiling so widely, his heart turns, “You’re the best.”

“You’re welcome.” Jungkook finds he’s grinning too, “You deserve it. Happy birthday Y/N.” He pushes some hair out of her face - practical purposes of course, it was getting in her eyes - and she seems to catch her breath at the gesture. They stare at each other for a moment, before someone clears their throat from behind them and they break apart. Soomi is standing between them, holding a bubble gum pink bowling ball.

Jungkook wonders almost flippantly if she only picked it up for it’s colour.

“It’s my turn, right?” She turns her smile on Jungkook and he melts.

God.

She’s beautiful.

“Right.” Jungkook smiles back, “Your turn.”

When he turns to move back to their booth he notices Y/N watching their interaction carefully. Her eyes flit away the moment she’s caught, but Jungkook knows what he saw.

Strange.

Very strange indeed.

Later on that evening, after they’ve all shared a pizza, and Jungkook has spent the rest of the night watching Soomi with hearts in his eyes, Hoseok clears his throat with purpose.

They’re sat in their living room - Hoseok has decided to crash over because, why not? - and playing a midnight mario kart match, when Jungkook’s friend seems to have something to say.

Jungkook pauses the game. He turns to Hoseok.

“Yes?” There is a brief moment of silence. Taehyung is forever scrolling through his phone, and Namjoon has long ago gone to bed. Hoseok clicks his tongue.

“Are you sure you like Soomi?”

The question completely throws Jungkook off.

He raises a questioning brow, “What?”

“I’m just - asking. I’m just…” Hoseok turns to Taehyung for support. When his friend doesn’t notice, he smacks him across the shoulder, “Tae.”

“What?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes, “Have you guys talked about this?” Taehyung seems to realise where the conversation has just come from. He actually locks his phone and sets it to one side.

“Yeah.” Taehyung answers honestly, “We have.” “I’ve told you guys a million times. I know I barely know her but -” “That’s not it.” Hoseok licks his bottom lip, “I mean it’s crazy you think you fell in love at first sight but… Stranger things have happened.” Jungkook scoffs, “So? Why have you asked then?” Another beat.

Taehyung sighed heavily, “Because we think you like Y/N.”

“What the fuck?” Jungkook snorts out a laugh because really - what else can he do?, “Why the fuck would you think that?” His friends share another look and Jungkook hates that.

He hates that they think they know him better than he knows himself.

Hoseok shakes his head, “Just a feeling.” “A feeling that’s wrong.” Jungkook states firmly, “Dead wrong.” Taehyung nods and picks up his phone, “Fine. Alright. We’re wrong then.” Hoseok seems like he wants to say more but he doesn’t opting instead for something that sounds sort of like a grunt.

Jungkook watches his friends for a moment longer.

“Yeah. So wrong.”

That night, when Jungkook’s just about to go to bed he receives a text message. He opens his phone, expecting Y/N and finding, instead, an unrecognised number staring back at him.

Soomi: hiiiii jungkook :) it's soomi… y/n gave me ur number. hope u dont mind.

Jungkook pushes his friends’s ridiculous theory to the back of his head, and focuses instead on the fact that Soomi has just texted him. His thumbs move to answer her but he pauses, moving instead to open Y/N’s chat history.

Jungkook: hey. happy bday again champ. u da bomb!! also thanks for giving soomi my number. u a real one for that, chief!!! :) :) :)

Y/N’s reply comes only a few minutes later.

Y/N: Thank you Jungkook. I appreciate it. And no worries… She seemed to really be into you after tonight. So well done, yeah? :)

Jungkook smiles at the emoji that he imagines Y/N forced herself to add, and almost misses the part when she says Soomi was into him.

Right. Yeah. Perfect.

He opens up Soomi’s chat and starts to write out a reply.

This is exactly what he wanted.

TAGLIST: @cuddleboo @veronawrites @minluvly @severetimetravelnerd @moonchild1 @bunnyjeonjk @multicolourunicorn @somewhereinthestarss @jwlmnbt @jojo-suga @zera10 @ggukkieland @thesugatoyourtae @dxlbts @wxndi

#bts #college!jungkook #fuckboy!jungkook #fanfic #fanfiction #bangtan #jeon jungkook #smut #angst #romcom #imagine

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