#but. I need. energy drink for that for sure

[trashytracktales]

Hey! Please do a lando x ex!reader. They break up after a lot of arguments due to being away from each other so much and then they meet a few months later and hook up. Like angst in the beginning then lots of smut.

If it's meant to fall apart | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I was actually planning to write something similar for so long. Thank you for the request and I hope you like it 🤍

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𐙚 summary ──── Surprisingly, months apart haven’t dulled the connection between them. After a night of passion and honesty on both sides, maybe there is a future where they can make all the right decisions, after all.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x ex!reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, lots of angst & back-and-forth, fluff & smut, teasing, praising, explicit language, unprotected sex, mention of alcohol and drinking, swearing, not the healthiest relationship I've ever written tbh (the toxicity is implicit tho), overstimulation, pussy-drunk Lando, Max F. & Ethan aka FEEFA cameo.

𐙚 word count ──── 10.6k (Thank you to everyone who voted on this poll I posted the other day, I didn’t expect to see so many 🥺).

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 27, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Guys, look. I know it's A LOT 🥴 I kinda let myself run with this one because I haven't posted anything in like a week or so. I still have 2 requests I'm working on, so don't give up on me yet 🤞🏻

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SHE'S NOT ENTIRELY sure how long they’ve been dancing, but she hasn't finished her drink yet. Time feels like an illusion, blurring the edges of her vision with every new rhythm of the night. For the first time in months, she feels a little lighter, her friends’ energy pulling her out of her own head — and apartment, where she locked herself in after the break-up.

The club is packed tonight, bodies pressed together in a sea of drunken, sweaty chaos. Neon lights bounce off every surface, painting the room in vivid purples, blues, and pinks. It's not usually her style — not anymore — but she figured it won't hurt to let lose for a couple of hours.

It’s only when she steps away from the dance floor, her feet hurting and her head buzzing, that she spots him.

Why tonight, of all nights?

Why here, of all places?

Why him, of all people?

He’s leaning casually against the bar, a glass in hand, chatting with a few familiar faces. Faces that she can't help but miss.

She stopped talking to Max — well, Max stopped talking to her after ending things with Lando, too upset that she toyed with his best friend's heart for ‘no apparent reason’. Their friendship dissolved under pressure, fragile as a cheap plastic cup in the grip of sulfuric acid. But Max wasn't the only one who took it personally. That's why she needed to cut ties with everyone from her past. She needed new friends — her own friends —, she needed a new place and new clothes, and to rebrand herself from scratch. Which she did.

She thought she had made it through, but the past has its twisted ways of coming back when you least expect it.

Now, the sight of him, so vivid and real, makes her chest tighten.

She stops in place, hoping he doesn’t notice her, but then his eyes flick in her direction and, for a brief moment, neither of them blinks, the noise around them fading into a dull murmur.

He straightens slightly, his relaxed posture gone as his brows knit together. There’s something unreadable in his body language — surprise? Excitement? Confusion? Pain? She doesn’t know, but it mirrors the knot twisting in her stomach.

Her friends call out to her, pulling her attention briefly, and when she looks back, he’s still staring. Except now, he’s moving, weaving his way through the crowd toward her.

Oh, hell no.

Her heart starts to race, a mix of adrenaline and something far more complicated than fear, as she rushes to walk away; she's fought for far too long, and now her instinct is to fly as soon as she senses danger.

Unfortunately, she's not quick enough.

“Hey,” says Lando when he gets closer, his voice low but audible over the music.

Hearing him gives her goosebumps, hating the way her body is betraying her. It’s been months since she’s heard his voice, but it still hits her the same way: sharp and unrelenting.

She turns around, forcing a smile, “Hi, Lando,” she manages, her voice steadier than she feels, thinking she should try acting if she makes it out alive from this encounter.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, his tone careful, yet extremely suggestive.

It makes her stomach twist again.

He used that line the very first night they met, his boyish grin lit by the dim, flickering lights of another club, in another city. Potentially another life, she's not sure. She remembers the way he had leaned in, so full of confidence and asked the same exact question with a mischievous glint in his eye.

It feels too deliberate now, too heavy with the weight of their past for her to ignore.

“All set,” she finally says, her voice quieter than she intended, as she raises her half-full glass in her hand. “Thanks.”

For a moment, it feels like they’re strangers meeting for the first time. Except they’re not, and their history is hanging heavily in the air between them.

Lando nods, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, “How about this, let me join you for that drink?”

She takes a look to where her friends are dancing, then she turns back to him, “I'm here with my friends.”

It's a pathetic excuse, she knows that. But she has no time to think of something else. Not when her brain is suddenly all scrambled and can't form a single coherent thought.

Lando frowns, disappointed, but not willing to give up that easy. “Come on, just a quick catch-up and then you can go back to your friends. Mine won't mind,” he shrugs, pointing at the bar, where the others are following their every move like a bunch of curious minions.

She catches Max lifting his glass in her direction, and Ethan, waving frantically.

Against her better judgment, she nods.

“Okay,” she murmurs, “Let's catch up,” she spits the words, sounding a bit too sarcastic. Still, it makes Lando smile.

His shoulders relax slightly, relief softening the tension in his body. He gestures toward a quieter corner of the club, away from the pounding bass and the sea of bodies. His first instinct was to take her hand in his, but since that's over the line, Lando keeps looking back, making sure she follows him. And she does. Like a naive, lost puppy that hasn't learned a single thing in the past five months, apparently.

The crowd surges around them, chaotic and loud, and before she can react, someone stumbles into her, their elbow catching her arm. As a result, she's thrown off balance, her feet slipping on the slick floor. Gasping, she's bracing for the inevitable fall that… never comes.

Lando’s hand shoots out, catching her waist and pulling her upright. His grip is firm, grounding, and suddenly she’s pressed against him, her chest brushing his.

“Careful,” says Lando, his lips close enough to her ear for the voice to cut through the noise.

The spot where he's touching her is burning her skin. She looks up, speaking with a hesitant smile, “Thanks, I'm good.”

The club around them fades away, and all she can feel is the warmth of his hand on her waist and the familiar scent of his cologne — a smell she used to know so well. It is almost intoxicating, and it makes her mouth water. She realizes that's what she was missing the most.

Lando smiles faintly, his hand slipping away as if he’s reluctant to let go. “Always got you.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to that, sensing the double meaning behind his affirmation. So, she nods and lets him guide her the rest of the way.

They find a small, semi-private booth near the exit, far enough from the main dance floor that the music dulls to a manageable volume. He gestures for her to sit first, then slides in across from her.

She fiddles with the edge of her glass, feeling his eyes on her.

“So,” she starts, leaning back against the booth, “You're here.”

Here, as in back home.

“For a week or so, yeah. Got a bit of a break between Brazil and Vegas.”

She nods, emptying the rest of her drink in one go, “How’ve you been?”

Lando shrugs slowly, “Alright. Busy with work and everything,” he trails off, his gaze dropping to her lips for a brief moment. “It’s not the same,” he continues, his smile fading away. “What about you, what have you been up to?”

She needs superhuman powers to stop herself from scoffing in his pretty face. It’s such a simple question, yet it feels loaded, heavy with all the things they haven’t said to each other in almost half a year.

“It's been… peaceful. I moved to another neighborhood. Kept busy, distracted.”

Lando hums, his expression unreadable for some reason. “Yeah, I get that. You look great, by the way,” he states it as a fact, his voice soft but unwavering.

She hesitates, then looks up at him, really looks at him. His face is the same and yet… not really. The boyishness is still there, but there’s a weariness in his eyes that's somehow new. Plus some facial hair she always begged him to try out. It tugs at something inside her, something she’s not sure she’s ready to face. Because it hurts. Because it annoys her. Because, after everything, she's still not over it.

“Cheers,” she replies, hoping he won't catch the blush in her cheeks. “I kind of hoped you would look like shit when I saw you again,” she admits. “You know, I'm talking no front teeth and severely balding. But, oh well. You too.”

Lando's smile widens, making everything infinitely worse for her.

He wears a black shirt that clings to his frame in a way that highlights the muscles in his arms. His black cap is pulled low, worn backwards in that signature way he always did, giving him that effortlessly cool vibe. His eyes are still the same, though. Dark, piercing, the same ones that could make her heart beat faster even after everything that’s happened.

“I thought about you a lot over these months, you know,” Lando finds himself saying, chewing on his lower lip.

She shoots him a surprised look.

As if, she thinks. His Instagram feed would say otherwise.

“You did?” she ends up asking, curiosity getting the best of her.

A hint of vulnerability creeps into his voice, “Of course. I've missed you.”

She laughs dryly, “But it's been good for us, right? We just established we both look great, no constant fighting, no slamming doors, no smashed phones…” she says, looking at him intently.

He can't sustain that for long, so he looks down at his shoes, slightly ashamed, remembering how bad it used to get when the distance between them felt too much to handle. He remembers the frustration, and the helplessness he felt when he couldn’t reach her, because he couldn’t make things right. He did smash his phone once, in a fit of anger, because he couldn’t get ahold of her for hours — not his proudest moment, that's for sure.

Lando swallows hard, “Yeah, it has been nice to have some distance. I guess it makes the heart grow fonder, right?”

“Hmm,” she hums, letting her eyes travel across the room, scanning random faces and wondering how life would be if she were someone else, “I don't know about that.”

She knows, in fact. But the words pause in her throat, too tangled up in memories. When he finally looks up, she's holding his gaze for just a beat longer than she should, and she wonders if he can feel it too — that familiar pull, like gravity, drawing them back together once again.

“I know—” Lando begins, not sure from which angle to approach. “I know it was the right choice at the time, but I can't help but wonder what things could have been if I'd fought harder for you.”

“Come on, Lando,” she laughs, unamused, giving her head a shake, “We would've ended up in another vicious circle, no matter what. It's always like that with us, isn't it?”

A part of him knows she's right. Still, “We'll never know.”

“Well, maybe it's better that way,” she manages, her voice lacking conviction.

“Or maybe it’s not,” he contradicts her, his words carrying a weight that presses on both of them. “You never think about us?”

Another sharp, dry laugh — it's either this, or she'll start crying. “I am actively trying not to,” she admits, her tone tinged with exasperation. “What’s the point, Lan? Thinking about what could’ve been won’t change what happened. You were always gone, and I couldn't spend my life following you around like a headless chicken. We had a good time, but it was never going to last,” she says the last part mostly as a reminder for herself. “Not in those circumstances.”

His jaw tightens. “You think it was easy for me? That it didn’t tear me up knowing I couldn’t be there for you the way you wanted me to?”

“I didn't say that,” her eyes snap to his, “We simply weren't working. We were too good at breaking each other.”

Lando leans back in his chair, frustration visible on his face. He hates that she's right, but it doesn’t stop the ache in his chest.

His jaw clenches, “I just… I don’t want to believe that’s all we were. Breaking each other.”

Her expression softens a little at his words, “Not all. But enough to make us miserable.”

For a while, the air between them feels heavier, the noise fading into the background. He wants to say something, anything, to counter her point, but all he can do is look at her and ask himself if they were, indeed, playing a losing game back then.

“Did you meet someone?” his question flies out of nowhere.

Lando looks at her with anticipation, sensing the hesitation.

“I did,” she replies, nodding slowly.

“And?”

She meets his eyes for a split second before looking away again, fixing her gaze somewhere on the table. “And we're happily married with twins on the way. What do you think? I just. Couldn’t.”

Lando's stomach drops, trying his best to remain calm, his hands clenching into fists. “You couldn’t what? Be with them?”

She shakes her head, her movements slow and deliberate, as if choosing her words carefully. “It was too soon.”

Her answer only leaves him with more questions. “So, what does that mean?”

“I don’t know what it means,” she rushes to say, her tone tinged with irritation. It’s clear she’s as unsure as he is, but that only makes it harder for Lando to process her reaction.

He runs a hand over his face, his exasperation bubbling to the surface. “I’m just trying to understand,” he says, his voice quieter but no less intense. “Because I've also tried.”

She looks directly at him now, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And?” she challenges in the same manner, her tone carrying just a hint of defiance.

“They weren't you,” says Lando, the truth of his statement hanging between them like a heavy anchor.

They remain silent after that.

She wants to ask him why — why he still cares, and why it hurts so much to be in the same space again after all they’ve been through. Nothing comes out, though; she already has the answer to that. They didn't break up because they stopped loving each other. They had both been too caught up in their own worlds to find any kind of balance. That broke them up.

He wants her to speak. He needs to hear her speak. To react. But when she says nothing in return, there is a brief second when he feels like giving up for good; he can't do anything if she's already made a decision. He knows how stubborn she is.

Lando nods to himself while getting up and start walking toward the exit, his thoughts all over the place.

The night air greets them with a quiet, cooling embrace as they step out of the club. Of course she follows, and she hates herself for that. But she can't help it — it's instinct. Like a magnetic force he's always had over her.

On the other hand, it's how they always communicated, through gestures and actions rather than words.

The soft click of her heels against the pavement gives Lando hope. He slows down so she can catch up, and then they walk side by side, without talking. The background noise of the city keeps them company, and by the time she decides to break the silence, he stops abruptly.

His voice sounds so small now, like a child asking his parents why can't he eat his chocolate bar before dinner.

“I know it feels so silly looking back,” says Lando, as though afraid to shatter the superficial peace between them. “We did so many things wrong, but I think we also did a lot of things right.”

She hesitates, her eyes dropping to the ground where a patch of light from a distant street light catches the edge of her shoe. Her arms fold tightly across her chest, while trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Yeah, breaking up was one of the right things,” she says thoughtfully, though her voice has a trace of bitterness behind it. “Before that, we tried so hard to make it work that we ended up burning each other alive.”

It's crazy how simple words can cause physical pain so quickly.

“Yet we're still here,” he reminds her. “Knowing what we know now, maybe we wouldn’t burn so fast this time. And isn’t it worth it, even if it only lasts for a little while? We were so happy at the start.”

That’s what he clings to. The laughter, the stolen moments, the way they fit together so effortlessly — she can’t argue with that. Their beginning was a beautiful dream, but it’s the nightmare that followed that keeps her guarded now, even though all she wants is to crack his ribcage open and slip inside him so they will never be apart again.

Her voice shakes as she tries her best to make him see her side, the memories spilling out like water breaking through a dam. “I had to put myself back together, Lando. Piece by piece. And I was all alone.” She forces herself to meet his gaze, finally, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Turns out, our friends were actually your friends, and I had to go through the worst breakup of my life with no one by my side. I had to move, I had to build an entire life from pretty much nothing. And I had to do everything alone, because I didn’t just lose you. I lost everything the moment I made you the center of my universe.”

Her words knock the air out of his lungs, guilt clawing at his insides. “Look, I know I should have been there,” says Lando, his voice barely steady. “Fuck me. I wasn’t supposed to let you go in the first place, alright? I should’ve been a better boyfriend, and I should’ve fought harder to make it work, using what we had then. But you did fuck with my head, and I thought being away would help.”

The first tear spills down her cheek, and she wipes it away hastily, as if she could erase the vulnerability altogether.

“It did help,” she agrees. “I know I can live without it now.”

Lando freezes for a split second, then stepping dangerously closer to her. “So, you’ll be fine if we stay broken up?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.

She nods, but it’s shaky. And when she takes a step back, trying to put distance between them, Lando decides he gave her enough space. Fuck that. He's not thinking anymore, not with his brain, at least. He closes the distance again, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close in one swift motion.

It’s impulsive, desperate even. But he doesn’t care. The moment he feels her presence in his personal space, the fire he’s tried to smother for months, roars back to life, more powerful than ever. And just like that, everything it's right again. The way her body fits against his, the familiarity of it all, makes his heart race in his chest.

“Stop being so fucking stubborn, baby,” he murmurs into her hair, his voice cracking under the weight of his own desperation. “Why can’t we at least try, hm? You told me it was too soon for someone else. Maybe it’s because it’s supposed to be me.”

Her breath catches at the sudden closeness, at the rawness of his voice. She's unsure of what to do with her hands, until they hover awkwardly by his shoulders.

“You're not fair,” she whispers, her voice slightly trembling. “You can’t just accidentally waltz back into my life and say things like that.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about being fair,” he says, his voice firm. “I just want us back. Simple as that.”

Her tears blur the edges of Lando's face when she tries to push him away, but his grip won't let her. Not this time.

“It's not that simple, and you know it,” she says. “We’ll only end up hurting each other again.”

“Then we hurt, so what?” he counters, his voice soft but sure. “At least we’ll know we tried until there wasn't anything worth fighting for. I'm not done with you, baby. Are you?”

Her hands finally move, trembling as they brush against his cheeks. They're not as soft as they use to be, his little facial hair scratching slightly at the pads of her fingers. The connection sends a jolt through them both as her touch lingers, trailing up to his hair. She pulls at his cap with both hands, placing it on her own head with a weak smile.

“It’s longer than you used to wear it,” she notices, her tears catching the street lights.

Lando’s heart clenches, managing to shoot a small smile in return, “I thought maybe I’d try growing it out. Do you like it?”

“I love it,” she admits as she tries to messily style his hair with her fingers. “It suits you.”

For a little while, they’re trapped in their own bubble. Her touch feels like home, and all Lando can think of is that he can't lose it again.

“I’m not asking you to decide now,” he finally says, his thumbs tracing soft circles on her waist. “I just need to know I’m not the only one still holding on.”

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, they're stumbling into her apartment. She knows it's reckless, and she's basically throwing away five months of progress, but it wasn't going to last, anyway.

Addictions are very hard to keep under control, especially when they have curly, dark hair and give you bed eyes.

“This way,” she says, her lips swollen from kissing all the way to her door.

Lando doesn’t have time to adjust, his head already spinning with hundreds of scenarios that fly tirelessly through his mind. However, the only thing that captivates him at the moment is her, and the way her fingers curl into the waistband of his jeans. She tugs him closer, her lips crashing onto his once again, their breaths blending in a frantic exchange of need and uncertainty.

He watches her fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, her movements clumsy but determined. His heart reaches his throat, swallowing hard, as his hands move from her waist to his belt, blindly unbuckling it before tossing it carelessly aside. The sound of leather hitting the floor barely registers over the erratic, overlapping rhythm of them kissing.

Then, he sees it. The spark in her eyes she used to have when she looked at him — it catches him off guard, giving him hope. He follows her as she moves slowly, her back toward the bed, her movements precise, like a cat's. She lies down, propping herself up on her elbows, while he takes cautious steps closer, his shirt hanging open to reveal his chest and toned abs.

But just as he leans forward, her high heel presses lightly against his chest, stopping him.

Lando freezes, his hands bracing on either side of her foot, tracing his palm up and down her leg, as his eyes dart up to meet hers.

“You can look,” she says, catching a glimpse of confusion in his eyes. “But for now, no touching.”

He frowns, clenching his jaw at her request. It would make sense for her to bring him to her place only to torture him, but she can't be that heartless. Right? The sight of her, stretched out on the bed with her foot holding him at bay, is almost too much to handle already.

“You're not fair,” he mutters under his breath, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I don't give a flying fuck about being fair,” she repeats his words from earlier, her foot staying firm against his chest.

The power is in her hands, and she's planning on using them properly tonight.

“No touching,” she repeats, determined.

Lando's hands fall at his sides.

Slowly, she slides her foot down, letting it drag across his chest, making a quick stop on his lower abdomen before settling on the bed. Her gaze locks onto his, a daring glint in her eyes as she spreads her legs, revealing the black lace panties. The dress she's wearing lifts up her thighs of its own accord, leaving Lando chocking on air for a brief moment. His lips part as she trails her fingers down her own body, teasing herself the way she’s done countless nights before.

Nights when he wasn’t there.

Nights when she was alone, chasing a high only his touch could give her.

“Wanna see how I got through five months without you?” she asks, her hands traveling way down, hooking her fingers to pull at the soft material.

His breath hitches, the sight of her undressing before him so painfully slowly making his chest ache with longing and guilt.

“I thought of you,” she continues, letting a small whimper out when the soft lace peels off with a little resistance from her already soaked pussy. “Your hands, your mouth… the way you sound when you're turned on,” she discards the panties at the foot of the bed, her breath catching in her throat as she glances at him through her lashes. “Such a delicious combination between your sleepy voice and that low octave you hit when you're drunk.”

Lando’s mouth goes dry, his hands twitching at his sides, itching to lean over and collect the material off the floor to stuff it into his pocket as a souvenir. He’s never felt so powerless and yet so utterly consumed by someone before.

“Will you let me?” she asks, her lips curving into a smile that’s equally wicked and vulnerable, “Show you?”

Her name leaves Lando’s lips in a protest while he takes an instinctive step forward, but she stops him with her foot once again. It’s a punishment, and he knows it. She’s showing him exactly what he missed, and exactly how she wanted him for so long.

Lando's breath is shallow, his chest rising and falling as he watches her. Helpless. His every nerve is tuned to her, eyes following how her fingers slide so easily between her folds, spreading the wetness as she teases her hole. Of course she’s taking her time with it, only to make sure he registers every tiny detail, just in case he forgot.

Her head tilts to the side with a quiet gasp when she pushes slowly inside. The sound of her wet entrance is enough to make his knees weak, still, his body turns to stone.

On the other hand, his heart is a mess of pride and frustration — pride that she still feels comfortable to be this vulnerable and open in front of him, frustration that he has to see her like this, untouchable. That's why he's not even blinking, too afraid he'll miss a thing.

She starts to gently rock her hips against the bed, fucking her fingers in and out, her body trembling as her whimpers fill the room. It's too much for Lando, but luckily, she didn't say anything about moving. His legs finally give out, and he falls to his knees, the sound of his breath ragged and uneven as he gets closer to her.

Yes, she's in charge — for now, at least — but he can't stop his words slipping out. Quiet, yet demanding.

“Slower,” he says, fixing his eyes on the way her fingers slide over her clit. “Don't rush it, please. I want to see all of you.”

Her gaze meets his, and for a moment, neither of them says anything else. She sees the vulnerability etched into his features, the way his body betrays him, shaking with restraint, completely at her mercy.

He looks like a man unmoored, defeated. So beautiful.

“Lando…” she breaths heavily, her back arching against her own hand, that flattered slightly at his words, a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks.

She hates how much he still affects her, obeying him without questioning his ways. Like no time has passed whatsoever.

When they make eye contact again, it's like they silently agree to go with it; whatever tonight will bring.

“That's is,” says Lando with satisfaction as she resumes her movements. “You gorgeous little thing. So beautiful when you listen, yeah?”

She nods, feeling him leaning forward just slightly, close enough that she can feel his warmth on her skin, without him touching her in any way. The air feels electric, her breath stuttering as she keeps fucking up her fingers under Lando's careful guidance. He watches every motion, his jaw tightening, ignoring the ache in his boxers the moment she finds her sweet spot, crying at how good it feels. She tries to muffle the moan, but Lando catches the hesitation, his eyes narrowing in her direction.

“No, let me hear you. Please, let me hear you,” he implores, exhaling sharply. “God, you're perfect. I could watch you forever.”

Lando can't help but notice how receptive she becomes at his words, her body tightening at the way he's praising her. As a result, she presses her fingers harder onto her clit, feeling the pressure building inside.

“Mhm, Lan…”

“I'm with you, baby. Keep going,” he encourages her, his gaze fixating on the slickness dripping between her legs. “Fucking hell. You're already so close, aren't you?”

It's like every word gets caught in her throat, and the only way she can reply to him is with a pathetic, desperate whimper.

In hindsight, she's never came from her fingers so quickly before, but the wave that’s hitting her from every direction right now is too intense to process right away.

It happens too fast, and the next thing she's aware of is Lando's voice, bringing her back.

“Please,” she hears him beg, managing to give him a slight nod of her head in return.

In that moment, the lights go out. Even so, Lando wants to be patient, as his index finger lightly brushes against her warmth. She exhales, giving up control, her gaze locked on him as if he is the only one that ever knew her. Meticulous, Lando traces his long, rough finger through her wetness, causing a shock to run through her whole body as it moves up and down her clit.

She thought she already crossed her limit, but then he leans down to press his mouth on her — deliberately, unapologetically, thirsty.

Lando lets out a deep, guttural groan that reverberates against her, causing her hips to twitch slightly. His tongue is wet and warm on her pulsating clit, leaving her breathless while he tastes her like it's the last time.

“My sweet, sweet baby,” he whispers, his voice intimate and personal, the words enveloping her in layers and layers of honey.

Feeling his warm breath on her center causes a surge of tension within her, making her walls tighten as his tongue explores within. He can't help but smile just as she leans into him, her body responding naturally, and he grips her thighs, closing the remaining gap between them. At that, she instantly buries her fingers in his curls, her hips mimicking his head movements.

“Oh, fuck,” she exhales abruptly.

The rest is pure bliss — his tongue licking in deep strokes, his muffled moans between her thighs, and the way he can’t seem to let go of her, gripping her tightly because he’s been deprived of her taste for so long.

Just for a brief second, Lando raises his head and, as his gaze remains fixed on her eyes, his mouth sucks gently at her clit. She's never seen him so desperate before, the sight of him owning her like that covering her entire body in chills.

Gradually, his kisses become way too powerful, which forces her to quickly grab his messy curls and pull him closer, unable to control herself anymore.

Without any warning, she screams his name as her climax hits her like a tidal wave for the second time in a row.

His growling makes her thighs quiver in his grasp, the vibrations intensifying her pleasure as her body convulses with each new sensation, while Lando’s tongue continues licking her during every heartbeat and shiver.

Next time she looks at him, his lips shine, his cheeks are red, and his gaze so intense that it causes her heart to skip a beat, creating a connection that seems more profound than any physical sensation she's just experienced.

He didn’t try to give her the best she’s ever had, but attempt to remind her how well he knows her body — to show her she still belongs to him.

“You’re so pretty,” says Lando, keeping his eyes on her, while he presses one finger back inside her cunt to test how thight she is after her second orgasm.

“Lando,” she spits his name at the unexpected touch, still too sensitive, “What… are you doing?” she gasps softly, a mixture between a sigh and a moan, when Lando's finger pulls out and glides across her wet, delicate clit once again.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Lando murmurs against her thigh, his voice low and reverent.

He grins in her direction, while his thumb circles her clit with precise intention, like a wheel gripping the perfect racing line. Sure of himself, Lando continues his movements, realizing how overstimulated she is, as he gets up to hover above her. Her hips buck instinctively into his hand, a jolt of reaction she can’t control.

Seeing Lando on top makes her react on instinct, wrapping one arm around his neck, while the other hand travels down his chest. The heat pooling in her stomach rises fast, an apex she didn’t expect to reach so soon. It’s intoxicating, her body spiraling as her mind blanks out the world beyond him.

“Lan—” she gasps, her back arching as if trying to escape, though every fiber of her betrays that she wants more.

“Come on, baby,” he says, increasing the pace. “You can give me one more. You're doing so well, I know you can,” his voice is a blend of dominance and desire, while his fingers press into her, knowing exactly where to go and how to bend, “Like that, see? So easy for me to read you. I could fuck my fingers into your pretty hole all night long and you'd still come for me every single time, wouldn't you, baby?”

Shaking, she clings to his neck, crying out his name in spasms. He loops his free arm around her, gently kissing her cheek — a gesture so tender and innocent that makes her heart grow ten times in size.

She grips his shoulder with one hand, her eyes closing in pleasure. “I can’t—” she chokes, the words tumbling out between ragged breaths.

In an attempt to get her power back, she tries to push at his wrist, but his arm steadies her, determined.

“Of course you can, love,” says Lando, his voice a gentle command, the firmness in his tone like a driver refusing to lift his foot off the pedal, curious to see how far he can take it.

Her hand clenches around his arm as his thumb presses against her clit with ruthless precision. She reacts on instinct, muscles coiling tight as she bucks against his hand, not sure what controls her body anymore, since her brain got disconnected long ago. The slik rhythm of Lando's fingers becomes too much, and she knows she's close when he starts curling them inside at the perfect angle.

“La— Fuck, baby, that feels so good,” her voice is a high-pitched cry now, laced with desperation. “I’m going—”

“I know, baby. So pretty. Look at you, making such a mess for me,” he urges, leaning in to kiss her neck.

Her body tightens as pleasure explodes within her, blinding and all-consumming — a full-throttle sensation, unrelenting in its intensity. She sobs his name as liquid warmth spills from her pussy, coating Lando’s fingers. He doesn’t stop there, though, his hand continuing its pace, coaxing every last wave of her climax as his arm holds her securely against him.

“God, I've missed you.”

When her breathing slows down, he falls down on top of her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. Her legs shake slightly, and her fingers curl weakly into his bare chest as he cradles her close.

Lando presses a tender kisses against her temple, his voice filling the quiet. “It wasn’t acciedntal,” he confesses.

She blinks rapidly, tilting her head to look at him, confused, “What?”

“Earlier,” Lando clarifies, “You said I was accidentally waltzing back into your life — it wasn’t accidental,” he repeats.

“What do you mean?”

Lando places a few more kisses on the heated skin of her neck, sucking in a couple of bruises, the gesture meant to buy himself more time for the storm raging in his head to stop.

“Lando,” she pulls him out of it.

“Been trying to figure out how to do this for a while. I just… couldn’t stay away from you anymore,” he admits, looking up at her, his eyes pleading. “I had Max playing detective while I was away.”

She pushes him off her to sit up on the bed, pulling at the edges of her dress. “Seriously, what?” her tone is not defensive — at least not yet — but there’s a sharpness to it that cuts into him.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he rushes to explain, “Look, I didn’t stalk you or anything. Nor Max,” he continues, getting up to stand next to her. “I didn’t even know where you lived until you brought me here. I swear.”

She wraps her arms around her own body, needing something to ground herself, “What did you do, Lando?” the girl asks, her voice quieter now.

He swallows, “I just asked him to check in on you. To see if you were okay.”

“And how did he do that?”

“He saw you tagged in a pic on this girl's account, and then did some research on the people you were with, paid some dudes to find out if their records were clean—” he starts chuckling when her fist hits his shoulder, playfully, but still with intent.

“Don’t be a dick,” she warns, her smile giving away the fact that she’s still amused by his immature sense of humor.

“I just… didn’t want to simply appear out of nowhere if you were happy. If you’d moved on,” Lando continues, his tone more serious now. “But when he told me you seemed like you hadn’t, I couldn’t keep pretending like I was fine. I'm really not.”

His honesty was always a breath of fresh air, but now it's suffocating. Hearing him admitting he's not okay, implying that she's the reason why, is simply heartbreaking.

Her arms drop slowly to her sides, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed, “Why now, Lando? And why not text or call?”

He scoffs, “Can you look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you would have picked up if I called? Especially given how we left things?”

She cups Lando’s chin in the palm of her hand, forcing him to look at her, “I'll always pick up if it's you.”

The admission makes his chest tighten.

Lando shakes his head, “I promise I’ve tried,” he says, “God, I’ve fucking tried. I threw myself into everything, and nothing worked. Racing, training, sim sessions, going out with the guys — no matter what I did, I was constantly thinking of you. Every night out felt wrong because I wasn’t coming home to you. And I know home is such a vague word for me, because I’m mostly away, but you made every single place feel like home, and that's why it didn't matter where I was at the time. I just needed… need you in ways I can't nor want to explain.”

His confession makes her head spin. The breakup had been difficult for her, but she hadn’t considered how Lando had handled the past five months. All along, she had assumed he wouldn’t miss her — that his life, always on the road and consumed by his own pursuits, was too busy to notice the absence of one small, insignificant detail: her.

She's now realizing how wrong she had been to think that way.

“So…?” she finally asks. “Do you think a few orgasms later can mend what was broken five months ago?”

“What? No, of course not,” he says firmly, leaning forward, his elbows digging into his thighs. “I swear, all I wanted to do tonight was talking to you. I didn’t plan on getting to this point, but I can’t say I’m mad about it,” says Lando, taking her hand in his, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “You still want me,” she shoots Lando a rapid look, studying his face, “Just like I want you. I see it, I feel it. Baby, I know it.”

Her heart pounds in her chest, the sincerity in his voice cutting through her defenses like a hot knife through butter. She wants to be angry, to accuse him of being selfish, but the truth is, she isn’t. Maybe it’s foolish to believe him, but one thing Lando never did was lie to her. He did worse, yes, but he never lied.

“Lando...” she starts, but her voice trails off, wishing her head would stop spinning so she could think.

“I know I hurt you,” he continues, his voice softer now, “You hurt me. We hurt each other. But we're too good together not to find a way to make it work .”

She doesn’t respond immediately, her mind racing with memories of their past — the good, especially the bad, and everything else in between. Her fingers toy with the fabric of her dress, her eyes flickering between his face and the floor. The room is heavy with silence and, just for a moment, she lets herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find each other again.

Otherwise, if it's meant to fall apart, then let it happen with them gasping for air, tangled together, connected in every way imaginable.

THE MORNING SUN filters shyly through the curtains, soft and golden, spilling across the bed where Lando stirs awake. He’s all alone, the sheets around him rumpled from where she had slept. He blinks up at the ceiling, a little disoriented. Then, he hears the faint sound of running water and realizes she’s in the shower. It makes him feel like everything went back to normal, but he can't be sure of what's going to happen next. He can only speculate and hope, but nothing more than that.

The quiet is interrupted by the persistent buzz of his phone on the nightstand. He reaches for it, still groggy from sleep, scrolling through a handful of texts from last night — banter in the group chat, some Instagram notifications, a few missed calls; nothing too important to catch his eye. He places the phone back on the smooth surface carelessly, and his hand knocks over something solid in the process.

Frowning, he sits up to put it back in its place, and that’s when he sees it — a framed picture of them, taken during a rare quiet weekend in Monaco over a year ago, right at the beginning of their relationship. She looked so happy back then, caught mid-laugh as Lando was gazing at her with an expression so tender that it makes his chest ache now. The weight of the memory hits him harder than he expects, pulling him fully awake.

The sound of the bathroom door opening makes him turn, and he puts the frame back quickly. However, it's enough for her to catch his sudden movement, her eyes flicking to the photo and back to him.

Her cheeks flush a deep pink. “I meant to put that away,” she rushes to say, pulling the towel tighter around her body like it might shield her from the embarrassment.

“Carlos took this one,” his voice is soft, as his eyes shift back to the frame. He picks it up again, turning it in his hands. “You asked me why didn't I call, but… why didn't you call?”

She laughs dryly, crossing the space to take the frame from his and and placing it face down on the nightstand. She sits down next to him, shrugging.

“And tell you what, Lando? That I couldn’t stop thinking about you even though you broke my heart?” she asks, shaking her head, the embarrassment turning into something closer to frustration. “It’s just a stupid picture, anyway. We barely knew each other when it was taken.”

“It’s not stupid,” he contradicts her vehemently. His hand reaches out tentatively, brushing against her soft forearm. “It's nice to know I wasn’t completely crazy for hoping you felt the same.”

Her lips part like she wants to say something, but no words come out. The towel slips slightly, and she clutches it tighter, her defenses crumbling under the weight of his hungry eyes.

“Lando…”

“Leave it there, yeah?” he says, pointing at the picture. “Facing your side of the bed, preferably.”

Seeing her suddenly deep in thought, Lando grabs her wrist and gently pulls her onto his lap, his thumb lightly brushing against her silky skin.

She looks at him, her emotions warring on her face. “If it makes me look less pathetic, it was face down most of the time.”

Lando laughs, his hands finding her waist, then her hips, steadying her on his lap, “I love you,” he says it casually, but it still freezing the blood in her veins.

Her fingers fly towards his mouth to cover his lips, “Don't,” she warns.

“You know I do. I was serious last night. You don't have to decide anything right now, but I'm not going anywhere. It sucks we needed to hurt for a while, we're both at fault, but I never stopped loving you,” he repeats.

“You're so unfair.”

“Don't care, say it back,” he teases, digging his fingers into her skin to tickle her sides.

She starts giggling, “Don't you dare.”

His grin widens, “Or what?” he asks playfully as her hands fly to his, trying to fend him off.

“Lando, I'm serious. Stop it,” her laughter blends with his while he leans in closer, his lips brushing her ear.

“I need to hear it, baby. Please. Just say it back.”

“It back,” she chuckles, feeling his fingers tickling her so mercilessly that tears form in her eyes. Their laughter bubbles over, loud and uninhibited, until she collapses against him. “Okay, fine. Fine,” her breathy voice stops him in place, catching his attention. “I love you, Lando.”

A simple confession; he asked for it. But none of them expected it to hang that heavily between them. It's not a lie — not in the slightest — and Lando knows it.

“Enough to give us a second chance?” he asks.

Her breath catches at the sudden shift in his tone, and before she can reply, his thumb traces her cheek gently.

“I'm so scared,” she admits, leaning into his touch.

Lando sighs, understanding too well where she's coming from, “I know, baby. But I'm even more afraid of losing us again. Losing this…”

His hand slides down her chest, tracing the curve of her breasts. With a gentle movement, he tugs at the corner of her towel, letting it drip smoothly down her body. Patiently, he runs his hands down her waist, moving back up to her chest as they leave goosebumps in their wake. Hungry, his hands rest on her breasts, squeezing them lightly until he feels her nipples in his palms, and she drops her head on his shoulder, whimpering softly.

Memories of last night make her body shudder, feeling the heat between her legs intensifying. Following his lead, her fingers start tugging at the waistband of his boxers, until they slip low on his hips.

Lando moves one hand around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. He groans against her mouth, his breath hot and ragged, before breaking their connection long enough to kick the boxers aside.

Skin on skin, their bodies align like two puzzle pieces.

She hovers over him, his hands on either side of her, “I wanna take care of you,” he speaks softly, closing his eyes when her forehead rests against his. “Please, let me take care of you.”

There’s a vulnerability in his tone that twists something deep inside her. She's just learned how to be independent again. She can't throw all of it away. She can't let herself slip.

She can't.

“Okay,” she whispers, her voice steady despite the storm raging within her.

Her answer is all that Lando needs to hear. His lips crash back onto hers as he swaps their positions, lowering her onto the bed, his body pressing against hers, warm and solid. And so very real. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word feels like a promise, a vow that he won’t let her slip through his fingers again.

And then, Lando takes control — not the type of dominance he's used to when he steers his car. It's more like devotion; his hands map her body all over again, like a driver learning every twist and turn of a new circuit, his lips following the trail his fingers blaze.

She arches into his touch, responding to him in ways she thought she’d forgotten.

But the body remembers.

And the remembering is, oh, so good.

Last night was just the warm-up, she reckons — an act meant to remind both of them how well they fit together. Lando was gentle, kind, and patient. But now, she sees the shift in him.

His eyes are darker, filled with lust, his touch greedier. She can't help but smile when she realizes that the Lando she knows all too well — the one who’s needy, insatiable, and unrelenting in his desire for her — is still there, and so ready to show off.

Her skin tingles in anticipation as she watches him, knowing exactly what he wants. And for once, she wants it just as much. Maybe even more, considering how her body is acting independently from her brain.

She wants him to give her everything, to burn through her until she’s left gasping and wet and ruined, and she’s ready to meet his hunger with her own.

But before that, “We're not done talking,” she tells him, breathing heavily against his mouth.

“Yeah, we'll talk. Stay with me and we'll talk all you want, baby.”

She wants to protest, but her air gets knocked out of her lungs and her fingernails sink into his shoulders when Lando nudges the head of his cock up and down her slit to collect the wetness. With a gentle kiss on her jaw, she closes her eyes, tracing her fingers down his arms as he pushes inside.

They both exhale, relieved that they're back where they belong.

Talking can wait.

Lando's hands grip her waist just as he pulls out, only to push back in, all the way to the hilt in one slow, but hard thrust. The feeling is almost too much for her, which is ridiculous since he just started moving. But she feels so full, and the sounds he lets out only make her open up for him even more.

“Wait, wait,” she can barely recognize her own voice, stopping Lando when their hips touch together.

She can't explain it, but she needs it.

“What's wrong?”

She looks down between their bodies, confusing Lando even more. “I…,” she begins, but she's not sure how she's supposed to voice her need.

“It's okay, you can tell me,” he assures her, bringing his hand to cup her face in his palm, tracing his thumb over her cheek.

“I—need a second to feel you,” she explains, pushing his hand away only to trace her palms over her face.

Lando chuckles, “Baby, don't hide from me. You're driving me fucking mad when you're blushing.”

“I'm not blushing,” she contradicts him, raising her hips against his, her walls hugging him tighter with every move.

“No?” whispers Lando roughly as if he lost his voice. “God, you're perfect. So good, so fucking sweet and perfect around me, baby.”

Her legs tighten around his waist, keeping him inside, while one hand moves to his lower back to push him against her even more. There is no physical space left between them, but she still wants more. It only makes Lando's cock throb inside her pussy, giving her a few more seconds to adjust to his length before he pulls all the way out and slides back, searching for the perfect pace.

“Fuck, Lando,” she whines, burying her fingers into his hair, tugging at the roots.

“Yes, I know,” agrees Lando, his eyes flicking over her face. His insides tighten at the sight of her parting her lips in pleasure, her breathing hot and irregular. “You're so beautiful from this angle.”

“Shut up,” she cuts him off, which makes Lando chuckle again.

“Why would I?” he asks, leaning closer to her ear, while thrusting a couple more times before pausing. “You look like a fucking goddess taking my cock so well.”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the sound of his voice, low and raspy, rocking her hips to find that sweet friction against her walls again.

“Keep,” she whines, “Keep going, then. Let me have it.”

Lando presses his lips on hers at the same time he resumes his movements, his hands roaming all over her body.

“You can have my cock, baby,” he groans into her hair. “All yours.”

She nods, wrapping her fingers around his biceps, “Yeah?”

“Promise you,” says Lando.

After that, he picks up pace, both falling into an agonizing rhythm. All this time, she had thought that familiarity might dull the edge of being with Lando, that knowing his moves would make it predictable and boring, maybe even ordinary.

Somehow, it’s the exact opposite.

It’s because she knows him, and he knows her so well, that every touch feels ecstatic, every kiss charged with meaning. He doesn’t need to guess what she likes; he already knows how to unravel her, how to leave her trembling and breathless. And she knows exactly what will make his breath hitch, how to draw out that low, desperate groan that ignites her own fire.

In a way, every time feels like the first, but it's always much better, because they know how to make each other fall apart like no one else can.

“Please,” she gasps, breathing wetly in his shoulder. “Harder.”

One thing about Lando, he's always been good at listening. Without thinking twice, he tightens his grip on her hips, fucking his cock inside her harder and faster than before. In an instant, her ears are blessed with the way his moans sound.

“God, I've missed fucking my pretty girl like this,” says Lando, his hands moving on her thighs to spread her more so he can slide in faster. “It's never like this, baby, fuck.”

Being with Lando is chaos, the kind of beautiful, consuming chaos that leaves everything around them in shambles. They are loud and messy, and everything is sweaty and wet and sticky. He kisses her like he’s starving, touches her like he’s desperate to memorize every inch of her skin, and she matches his fervor, meeting him with the same wild energy that pulls them under. Together.

“Lando,” she spits his name out of her mouth in short spasms. “Lando, Lan… Lando.”

It's almost like a cry for help, but she doesn't need saving. Not when he's fucking her so good, slamming against her over and over again, until the outside world fades away and all she remembers is his name.

“Lando,” she whimpers again.

“Keep me in, love. Like that,” she can barely hear him over the sound of skin slapping on skin. “Fuck. You're taking me so well, I won't stop fucking you, baby. I won't—”

She sucks in a breath of air, her body buzzing with pleasure. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she can feel how hot and sweaty his chest is. She moves with him for a couple more thrusts before she lets go, the sound of Lando fucking in and out of her while she comes so obscene that it makes her eyes roll.

“I'll never get tired of seeing you coming like that,” says Lando, pinning her to the bed, his cock feeling so fucking good inside of her that it makes him see stars. “So fucking hot, baby.”

Her nails scratch the skin of his back as her pussy clenches around his length, forcing another hiss out of Lando's mouth.

“Don't stop,” she manages to say, even though she feels her throat raw.

“Ah, look at you, now. Being so good for me,” says Lando with a smirk, tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Letting me fuck you when you're sore and spent. And so wet, baby, you're dripping all around my cock. Fucking hell.”

Lando's jaw clenches, a visible battle playing out in his face as his breath hitches. She feels him moving deeper, hitting the sweet spot inside her, sending ripples of pleasure through her body with every thrust.

“Yes—fuck. Don't stop,” she repeats.

His eyes widen as he tries to hold on for as long as he can, but it's hard when he flashes his eyes in her direction and catches her already looking. It doesn't take long for him to realize there's a replica to her first orgasm. He nods, without saying anything else, bringing his hand up to her neck. She places hers on top of his, not to push it away, but to let it rest there as a sign that it's fine to claim her if that's what Lando needs.

And that's enough for him to lose it.

“Baby,” he breaths out, fucking her slopply, any sense of order dissolving under the weight of their eye contact.

She arches into him, her fingers trembling as they rise to cup his face.

“Keep your eyes on me,” she demands, her voice a desperate need.

She pictured that face thousands of times in the past months, but nothing compares to this. Lando groans at the command, his hooded gaze staying on hers. The intensity of his expression nearly undoes her again — his pupils blown wide, lips parted as he lets out s string of cuss words.

“That's it, pretty boy,” she whispers, her thumb brushing over his cheek as he moves inside her, his pace faltering for just a moment before he snaps back into thay sloppy rhythm, chasing his release. “Want to see you when you let go.”

She barely finishes her sentence when his orgasm crashes over him like a tsunami; no one would be able to even tell where she begins and where he ends.

Lando looks so beautiful and wrecked, and she drinks in every second of his surrender.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

When his features soften, she sees how vulnerable he is, and it leaves her breathless.

Satisfied and content, her fingers still trace his face, wanting to remember the exact way he looks in this moment, when he is completely hers.

Unable to support his weight, Lando collapses on top of her, feeling his body as light as a feather, which is so far from the truth. But she doesn't mind; she loves the feeling, actually. She loves the heaviness, and the way he keeps his cock tucked deep inside her, wet and softening slowly, not allowing his cum to leak out of her.

Descending back down from their high, the only sounds in the room are their slowing breaths and the soft rustle of the sheets. It's hard not to notice the weight of reality when it begins to creep in around the edges.

She lies beneath him, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on his back, but her mind is miles away.

“When are you leaving?” she finally asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando tenses for a moment, then shifts to lie beside her, propping his head on his hand to look at her. The vulnerability in her eyes twists something deep inside him.

She swallows hard, suddenly flooded by all the reasons they had fought, all the late nights filled with misunderstandings and misaligned priorities. She remembers all the reasons why they broke up, and thinking how bad of an idea this has been. Because, how can she let go of him again, without feeling like she'll be losing both her head and heart in the process.

“On Tuesday,” says Lando softly. “But not how you think.”

Her brow furrows in confusion as she turns to face him. “What do you mean?”

Lando leans over, his hand caressing her cheek as he gathers his thoughts.

“I’ve been thinking about us for months. Since you left, actually,” he begins, his voice low and deliberate. “I had a lot of time, and I managed to figure out why it didn’t work before, why I couldn’t give you what you deserved. So… I’ve talked to the team.”

She almost stops breathing, her eyes widening in his direction while she waits for him to continue. Months ago, she would've die to have this conversation, and now that it happens, she doesn't know how to behave.

“I'm working on a schedule. To have more time for us,” Lando explains.

Her heart skips a beat. “You’d do that?”

“For us,” he repeats, his voice firm. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay without you. I don't want to be okay without you, it's stupid. And I don’t want to keep coming back here, hoping for a second chance, only to mess it up again. I want to get it right this time.”

She stares at him, not knowing what to do with that information. This is not the Lando she knows. The recklessness and impulsivity got replaced by caution and planning the steps ahead. It's new, and exciting, and it makes her tear up.

“And what if it still doesn’t work?” she asks, her voice small.

He leans closer, his forehead touching hers. “It will.”

His tone is so definitive that she can't say anything else, letting the silence stretch between them as she searches Lando's face for any sign of hesitation.

There’s none.

“How... did you actually know where to find me last night?”

Lando smirks, studying her face with half-closed eyes, bringing his hand to her jaw. “That friend of yours posted on her story. Honestly, I didn’t know you were going to be there. But I hoped.”

She shakes her head, scoffing, “Stalker behavior.”

Lando shrugs nonchallantly, “I just happened to be nearby,” he chuckles.

“Lucky me,” she says, tracing the contour of his nose with her finger, stopping on his jaw.

“Lucky us,” he corrects, pulling her in for another kiss.

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[amirasainz]

I have a request for Lando Norris x Sister!reader where she gets cheated on. Please🫶🏻 I love your writing

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🧡

Big Brother to the Rescue

The paddock was buzzing with activity, fans cheering and cameras clicking as drivers moved between interviews and meetings. It was a typical race weekend—hectic, thrilling, and intense. But for Yn, none of it seemed to matter.

She walked beside Lando, her older brother, keeping her head down. Normally, she loved being at the Grand Prix. She’d tease Lando about his starts, laugh at his banter with the other drivers, and soak in the high-energy atmosphere. But today, her heart felt heavy.

Lando, always in tune with her moods, glanced down at her and frowned. “You’re too quiet,” he said as they reached the McLaren hospitality area. “This isn’t like you. What’s wrong?”

Yn sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

That was all it took for Lando’s protective instincts to kick in. “Oh, you’re definitely talking about it. Did something happen? Who do I need to fight?”

Yn couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at his immediate leap to violence. “It’s nothing. Just...my boyfriend cheated on me.”

Lando froze mid-step. He turned to her, his expression shifting from shock to anger. “He what?”

“Cheated,” Yn repeated, her voice cracking slightly. “With some girl he met at a party. I found out yesterday.”

Lando clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “That absolute—” He cut himself off, taking a deep breath. “Okay. First of all, you don’t deserve that. Second, I’m going to make sure you’re okay. And third, if I ever see him, he’s toast.”

Yn smiled faintly at his overprotective tone. “Thanks, Lan. But I don’t think anything can cheer me up right now.”

Lando wasn’t having it. “Challenge accepted.”

---

Throughout the morning, Lando hovered around her like a mother hen. He brought her tea, her favorite snacks, and even a McLaren hoodie to keep her warm. The other drivers began to notice.

“Why is Yn so quiet today?” Carlos asked, walking over to where she sat with her tea. “You’re usually giving Lando a hard time.”

“She’s going through something,” Lando replied, his tone making it clear the topic was off-limits. He wrapped an arm around Yn’s shoulders and pulled her closer. “But don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. He ruffled Yn’s hair affectionately before heading off.

A little while later, Charles and Pierre stopped by. “Yn, you’re not smiling,” Charles said, crouching down to her eye level. “That’s illegal. Lando, what have you done?”

“For once, it’s not my fault,” Lando said, rolling his eyes. “She’s just—she’s sad. Leave her alone.”

Pierre, never one to resist a joke, smirked. “Do you need us to scare someone off? We’re good at that.”

“I can scare people off just fine,” Lando said firmly. “Thanks.”

Yn managed a small laugh, which made Charles and Pierre exchange victorious looks.

---

Later, when Ollie came by, he took one look at Yn and immediately tried to lighten the mood. “I’ve got an idea,” he announced, sitting down beside her. “What if I became your new boyfriend? I’d treat you like a queen.”

Yn laughed for the first time all day, the sound catching Lando’s attention from across the room. He walked over, arms crossed.

“Really, Ollie?” Lando said, glaring at his friend. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“What?” Ollie said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “I’m just saying, I’d be an upgrade.”

Yn shook her head, still giggling. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous, but effective,” Ollie said, winking at her.

Lando wasn’t amused. “Stick to racing, mate.”

Ollie shrugged and walked off, leaving Yn smiling. “He’s an idiot,” she said, leaning her head on Lando’s shoulder.

“True,” Lando agreed. “But if it made you laugh, I’ll allow it.”

---

As the day wore on, Lando continued to dote on Yn. He handed her tissues when she teared up, reminded her to drink water, and even skipped a strategy meeting to sit with her in the quiet corner of the hospitality area.

“You know,” Yn said softly, “you’re a really good brother.”

“Obviously,” Lando replied with a smirk. “But thanks. And for real, Yn, don’t let that guy make you feel like you’re not enough. He’s the idiot, not you.”

Yn sniffled and smiled up at him. “You’re the best.”

“Duh,” Lando said, pulling her into a hug. “Now, what do you say we watch the race together? I’ll dedicate my first overtake to you.”

Yn laughed, feeling lighter than she had all day. “Deal.”

By the time the sun set over the paddock, Yn was back to herself, and it was all thanks to Lando—her overprotective, slightly annoying, but always reliable big brother.

[ahqkas]

the night had worn on longer than you expected—one drink after another, endless conversations, and a pounding music that reverberated in your bones. now, as you stumbled through the front door of your apartment, the weight of exhaustion was heavy on your shoulders. your head felt like it was made of lead, your limbs sore, and your mind foggy with the aftereffects of a night that, while fun, had drained every last bit of energy from you. all you wanted was to sink into the comfort of your bed.

you glanced up at JASON TODD, your boyfriend, who was standing a few steps behind you, his brow furrowed in concern. he’d been quiet, observant, as usual, letting you enjoy the night while silently keeping an eye on you for any troubles. but now, the way his gaze softened at the sight of your exhaustion spoke volumes. you knew he was ready to take care of you.

“hey,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper, “let me help you with that.”

you didn’t even need to ask what he meant. he could tell, just from the subtle way you tugged at the edge of your makeup, that you were too tired to deal with it yourself. his eyes softened, and before you could protest, he was already guiding you toward the bathroom.

once you were inside, jason gently pushed the door closed behind him, the dim light from the bathroom casting a warm glow over the space. he leaned against the counter, his green eyes following your every movement. you tried to muster the strength to undress your makeup, but your hands were uncoordinated, your tiredness making the simple task feel impossible. the smudged eyeliner, the lipstick that had begun to fade unevenly—it all felt like too much.

jason noticed your struggle, and without a word, he stepped closer, his presence a comforting weight against the overwhelming fatigue that clung to you.

“let me do it,” he said quietly, his voice soothing. “you don’t have to do a thing.”

his calloused hands, always steady, reached for your face with a tenderness that caught you off guard. you had gotten used to his strength, to his commanding presence when he was on the job, but now, in this quiet moment, you were reminded of the softer side of him. the part of him that wanted nothing more than to take care of you.

his fingers were gentle as they cupped your chin, lifting it just slightly to study your face. he gave you a small, reassuring smile, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip.

“i’ll take care of you, sweetheart,” he murmured before he dipped a cotton pad into the micellar water, pressing it gently to your skin.

you closed your eyes at the first cool sensation against your face, letting out a soft sigh of relief. his movements were soft, each swipe of the cotton pad sweeping away the remnants of the night. slowly, gently, jason worked his way across your face, always careful not to tug at your skin. he started at your eyes, where the mascara had long since smudged, his fingers soft as he carefully wiped away the stubborn eyeliner and mascara, knowing how sensitive that area was. the way he worked with such care made your heart ache a little.

“you’re really good at this,” you murmured, half-amused by how effortless he made it look.

jason chuckled softly, his lips curling into a small smile as he continued to cleanse your face. “i’m with you every single night,” he said, the hint of humor in his voice making the whole situation feel more intimate, more personal than anything else. “i guess i picked up a few tricks.”

you opened your eyes, catching his own. he was staring at you with a look so soft, so filled with affection, that it made your heart swell. you weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion or something deeper, but in that moment, you felt seen. in a way that you hadn’t expected, in a way that was rare. jason had always been there for you—through the highs and the lows, through the good and the bad. but here, now, in the quiet of the bathroom, he was taking care of you in the simplest, most intimate way. and it felt like everything.

“such a pretty girl,” he said quietly, his hands finally pulling away from your face once it was clean and bare of all the smudges.

you were left staring at him with hearts and twinkles in your eyes.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

[junos-jrabbles]

Authors note, PT 2 to this ask, because it took me SO long and I feel like I need to do a lil more LOL, sorry if these are a lil unimaginative I do be frying

How would the mercs react to a new member with some questionable behaviour?

Scout

There's GOTTA be somethin’ up with you.

He's sure of it, absolutely COVINCED that someone as maniacal as you can't just be a good person.

He gets the whole “well, the respawn machine!” But he doesn't, he wouldn't go crazy like that, why would anyone?

He's a little nervy around you, gives you a funny look once in a while when you're kind to him, assumes there's some really blatant motive that he just isn't picking up on (there is none).

Shows up outside your room once at night, standing there with that ‘mom I threwed up’ stance just like. “Okay. So. What da hell is wrong with ya?” Hands on his hips, STARING.

“Whaddaya mean it's just a game to ya- pal, look at me, I'm the best player here, y’don’t see me rippin’ their arms off!”

Eventually gets over it, but it takes a while, he's just stubborn. You guys end up best buds and he shares his radioactive ass bonk with you sometimes, usually resulting in a ceasefire as the entire enemy line is annihilated, or you slam into a wall so hard you knock yourself clean out.

~~~

Soldier

Insert the Spiderman pointing at Spiderman meme here

First impressions? Is absolutely enamoured by you. You are on the field what he is when in his crazy naked honeyed up state. A force of violence and INSANE destruction.

Definitely tries to assist you by letting you rocket surf directly into the enemies on pretty much every respawn, much to the chagrin on your Medic, who really does just eventually stop trying to follow you.

He's SO ecstatic to find someone that's loco like him when in the heat of battle, but can be Normal outside of it! He's amazed, definitely asks you if you're American every five minutes, just to make sure you're not one of those nice Canadians (shudder).

“YOU. YOU ARE THE BEST SOLDIER IN THIS HERE PLATOON, MAGGOT! I HAVE NEVER SEEN A DRIVE AS HIGH AS YOURS, I THINK SUN TZU WOULD BE VERY PROUD.”

Sometimes he'll have a rough experience in a fight, and after it's all over, he'll come to you for reassurance and to talk!!! He definitely talks about you with Zhanna often, and you guys all hang out often for little chats over food n drink :)

~~

Pyro

You are one of the few people, who in their eyes, is always very vibrant and exciting to be near.

They absolutely LOVE your energy, your kindness is more than welcome at base, and they love being near you and showing you things they've created (upgrades for their flamethrowers, new melees they've concocted, etc.), and on the battlefield, they're following at your heels lighting the world around ablaze, watching the carnage bloom!

Really, really enjoys baking with you, they love baking and cooking generally, but usually it goes kinda poorly, because they can't smell too well under the mask, and tend to space out and lose track of time. Plus the burnt cookies are always really pretty.

You keep them on track with stuff without being pushy, and they appreciate it!! And sometimes you'll find pictures of really cute animals in library books and photocopy them to show them. :)

~~~

Demo

He's not sure if it's because he's seeing double, that the carnage seems a lot crazier than normal, at first.

Eventually realises that the mayhem in the battlefield is at your hands, and makes a mental note to stay out of your way.

That mental note is tossed away the second you come up to him, giddy with some terrible glee asking him to launch you directly into their front lines.

(He obliges, and is amazed at how well you stick the landing.)

Doesn't really register the difference too well, too off his tits to know if you're even talking to him half the time.

You'll pass him his dinner, lovingly crafted with all the food meticulously placed to create a little scene (probably bangers n mash gravy volcano, absolute scran) and he just takes it like. “Oooh, thank you lass/lad! Looks…” Swaying, trying not to drop the tray. “Looks some braw scran, ta!” Then he totters away <3.

Probably invites you to play golf on his slightly more sober days, goes very well of course! You drive the caddy, he hoots and hollers for you to run someone over (Soldier is on the back egging him on).

~~~

Heavy

Somewhat protective, but in a very physical way, where he'll try to body block the enemy from getting at you (and occasionally you from getting at them).

Asks you how you're doing… often, it's like when your elders are concerned but aren't gonna ask if you like, need therapy, he'll just go “Are you alright, дикий?” and when you go yeah what why he's just got his arms crossed, nodding, then walks away.

Is VERY impressed by you on the battlefield, even he's sure he wouldn't be able to tank some of the hits that you do. Your handle on adrenaline is completely spectacular in his eyes.

Would call you wild one, animal, beast, terror, but also throw in little sun when a fight has gone particularly well, proving your fiery fury!!

~~~

Engineer

Probably the closest to you, a little crazy himself, but sane enough off the field.

Highly appreciates your input on anything he's scrapping together, especially when he's tinkering with his turrets. Usually you drive the enemy into them like cattle, so polite questions and curious advice is always treasured.

“Now… I already got the wrangler shield, but that is an awfully good idea there…” Followed by various skeewiff utterances as he works out the kinks of the massive thing he's just haphazardly welded with a folding mechanism onto his sentry.

You'd bring him fresh baked goods sometimes and he wouldn't stop thinking about you for at least a week after, the way to his heart is through food and dear god you give him an arrhythmia <3.

~~~

Medic

Sick of chasing after you after about a week of battles, and eventually begins wondering if he can legally sedate you and/or poke around in your brain to see what makes you tick.

Finds it endearing, how anarchic you are in the heat of war, compared to how civil and polite you are outside of it.

His birds peck at their barred enclosures when they hear your name like they've been accidentally conditioned, knowing they'll be let out for the duration of his usual pacing and rambling session in his office.

“Oh mein Gott, das ist verdammt nochmal unmöglich.” He would absolutely SEETHE over you sometimes, but then you'd come into his office with tea or coffee and biscuits and bird seed and he'd be like oh. Oh you're just nice, huh?

You're the only person willing to listen to his excited rambles about human physiology and general biology, he'd show you vivisection research images, organs, all the sorts until he can see that you're a little offput, then he'll be like,

“Oh, sorry freund! Archimedes tell them it is fine, please. Zhe bird knows these things better than I!” And little mister ‘medes comes and settles down on you for a snug, probably nipping at ya if you don't pet him.

~~~

Sniper

Likes it, LOVES it in fact, he won't show it, but having someone who keeps the enemy's attention long enough for him to get a few picks has him giggling and kicking his feet (metaphorically, of course).

“Oh that one? Aye well… They're about as ruthless as a dunny rat, I'd say, bites like a blue ‘n all.” He'd mutter to anyone who asks what he thinks about you, a strange question, but he's an honest man.

Being a particularly distant man, you don't get very close, but sometimes on late nights when it's too cold for him to be in the camper, he'll settle down in the common room with some knitting going for a few hours before he feels tired enough to head to his room. If you get up for a drink and spot him, he's more than happy for a little chat when you come over and start asking him about what he's doing.

He tries to teach you knitting, which goes alright, eventually offers to teach you some marksmanship but you politely decline.

“More of a hands-on approach, ey? Well, can't knock it mate, seen you take down those blokes like they're nothing but jumbucks.”

~~~

Spy

Is always wearing his cloak and dagger watch for the first while of you arriving, hides in the choke points of certain stations and watches the carnage upclose, trying to stay as still as possible so as not to be seen.

Finds you very amusing, but like Scout, is incredibly sceptical. His curious stalking is not limited only to the battlefield, he often lingers in the shadows of the base just watching you. Mostly when you're cooking, making sure you won't slip anything nefarious into their food.

Does NOT buy any of the stuff you tell them. It's all a little on the nose, all this about working at puppy shelters, saving cats from trees, talking down burglars? Unbelievable, and he will not be convinced.

Does some incredibly invasive snooping, probably literally going through your stuff when you're out of the room, and never really truly comes around to see eye to eye with you.

~~~

General

After a while of you being amongst them, and everyone's settled, Christmas would come up, and much as it would usually be a very casual thing between the lads, everyone would be so enamored with the thoughtful gifts you'd get them.

Miss Pauling would be genuinely so frightened by you, she'd only really see or hear about you on the battlements, not so much when you're at your times of peak kindness. She would also probably not be very convinced by your alleged acts of kindness, but wouldn't be too bothered either way.

[kotemf]

Gift wrap banner by: @the-little-moment.

My gift for @lonewolflupe for the @galactic-gift-gathering event is nothing else than a short fic about Commander Fox and his biggest love: caff. Your gift is belowthe cut, I hope you like it!

Fox has always had a thing for caff.

He was a little older than eight standard years old when him and his batchmates decided to sneak out of their sleeping pods after the curfew and wandered to the mess hall. They were there for snacks but the moment Fox laid his gaze on a forgotten cup of the brown liquid on one of the tables, he couldn't look away. There was something about that brown liquid, something that made him take a sip.

There was no way to describe the taste, or the rush of contentment and energy that flooded Fox the moment he swallowed. And he knew in that moment that he wanted more.

His liking for caff hasn't changed. By the end of the war, he was drinking enough caff to show on a drug test.

And then the war ended, Fox was forced to quit his job of a commander until he recovered from the damage Palpatine did to him - not that he actually needed the time off but try explaining that to his overprotective batchmates - and along with his job, he list the option of stealing caff from the coffee machines in the senators' offices.

So he went and tried a coffee shop after coffee shop. And who knew caff could be even more delicious? Don't take him wrong, the plain black liquid he used to drink was good but it was nothing compared to pumpkin spice latte or strawberry creme frappuccino.

He didn't get why his batchmates laughed at his choice of drinks but then, his batchmates has always been weirdos. Fox didn't take it personally and brought them each a vanilla bean frappe with two pumps of raspberry syrup to their meeting in Wolffe's apartment.

"What's that?" Wolffe gave the plastic cup Fox just handed him a weird look. What was his problem? It was aesthetic!

"Looks kinda poisonous. Are you trying to kill us Fox'ika?" Cody joked. Asshole. Next time, Fox was getting him decaf.

"It's vanilla bean frappe with two pumps of raspberry syrup you moron."

"You know, maybe you could open a coffee shop," Rex snickered.

"You know what? I will."

"No, Fox, that was a joke! You can't just open a coffee shop!"

"Watch me."

Fox was nervous. He had exactly ten minutes and forty five- forty four- forty three- forty two- Alright, that's enough, he needed to calm down. He had approximately ten minutes before he opened his very first coffee shop. His worry was unnecessary. He was just opening his first ever coffee shop. What could go wrong?

Fox nervously sipped his iced matcha espresso as he watched the numbers on his watch change steadily. The drink was good. Surely his customers were going to agree. It was so good Fox ran out of the drink before he was supposed to open. He needed something to drink, something strong.

He was in the middle of the process of making a unicorn frappuccino when the door opened. Fox forced himself not to run away as he turned to his first ever customer. He was surprised to see senator Chuchi.

"Hi!" she greeted him cheerfully. She looked perfect as always, her blue skin glowy, robes carefully ironed without a hint of wrinkling, not a hair out of place... What was she doing in Fox's coffee shop. Not that it was Fox's business he was just curious. That... that didn't make it his business, right?

"Senator. What can I get you?"

"Surprise me."

Alright. Fox could do this. Caff was his job. No. No, caff was more. It was his life. He could make a good drink for a pretty senator.

Without even thinking about what he was doing, Fox started mixing ingredients in a cup. He started with some melted chocolate, added ice, almond milk, blueberry juice and mixed it well before pouring some well brewed coffee into it and topping it off with whipped cream and some heart shaped chocolate sprinkles. He looked at his creation. That wasn't any of the drinks on the menu. He did it all on instinct, without thinking. It didn't look bad, though. He handed it to the senator.

"Looks great. I don't remember seeing this one on the menu?"

"It's a... it's a special. Just for you," Fox stuttered.

He watched the senator take a sip. He hoped he mixed it well. An angry senator was the last thing he needed, especially when it was the one senator who treated the clones with respect. What was he even thinking, he should've just fixed her a regular latte with some extra cream and- "Wow. This is... I don't have words for this, this is the best drink I've ever had."

"Really?"

"Uh huh." The senator took another sip. Fox guessed he was lucky. "How much is it?"

A good question. "It's on the house," he blurted out.

"Thanks, Fox." The senator smiled at him. "I'll be back tomorrow!"

Fox watched the senator toss a generous amount of credits into the tip jar as she walked out of the shop. He was still busy wondering if she really just said his name. How did she recognize him? Kriff, how did she even know he had a name? He always went by CC-1010 when in the senate.

He was still pondering over that when he heard his batchmates snicker from the door. So they really came. Sweet.

"Are you going to be standing there or do you actually want to purchase something?" Fox asked impatiently. He was a barista, not a comedian. His job was to get people so hooked on caff he could live out of their orders, not making them laugh.

"Just basic blacks caff," Cody ordered.

"I will let you know that I offer a variety of different-"

"Black caff, vod," Cody asked again, the others following his example. His batchmates were the worst! Why couldn't they just all admit what drinks they really loved? Fox had no problem with admitting that his favorite drink was strawberry cream frappuccino.

"Of course." Fox rolled his eyes as he prepared each of his beloved batchmates a plain, boring coffee. "Two credits each."

"You're kidding, right?" Bly asked.

"No."

"You mean a senator gets a drink on the house and your batchmates don't?" Wolffe looked offended.

"The senator didn't get the most boring drink I offer, did she?"

"We are your batchmates!" Rex argued. It was ironic that it was him of all people, he wasn't even from the same batch, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and got kidnapped and later adopted by Cody. Not that Fox cared, no one was getting free drinks if they didn't at least order something interesting.

Fox's coffee shop turned out pretty well. Soon he had more customers than he could handle. Senator Chuchi kept coming every morning and sometimes in the evening as well. The command batch stopped by daily to order their plain coffee and then the di'kute returned alone later to order the drink they were embarrassed to admit they liked. The entire Coruscant Guard frequented the place as well as many other clones. Then there were Jedi and of course the regular citizens of Coruscant. To sum it up, the place was popular.

Fox was proud when he learned how well known his humble coffee shop was. Sure, his vode knew his shop. But nat-borns did too and that was a surprise. And it wasn't just some regulars who lived nearby, no. His coffee shop was a well known place! People would say they will meet at Fox's and their friends knew exactly where. Teenagers would buy caff just so they could spend an hour taking selfies with the cups and let the drink get cold. Fox couldn't be more happy. He loved caff and he loved making it for the citizens of Coruscant.

He heard the door open.

"Hey, Fox," Rex greeted him. He was the first one to return for his alone drink that day.

"Rex." Fox nodded at him. "The usual?"

"The usual."

Fox started making Rex's favorite espresso with milk, dragon fruit syrup, pink whipped cream, white chocolate topping and marshmallows. "Here you go." He handed Rex the cup and watched his vod'ika leave. He shook his head fondly. If only him and Fox's batchmates could admit they weren't all that much into boring, black caff, their lives would be much easier. It wasn't like they could laugh at each other. Rex loved milky espresso with dragon fruit, pink cream, white chocolate and marshmallows. Bly loved pumpkin spice latte. Cody loved affogato with cookie cream and two pumps of extra caramel. Wolffe's favorite was iced matcha tea latte with almond milk, raspberry syrup, seven extra pumps of dark chocolate, purple whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles. Fox didn't judge. His batchmates did but they didn't have the right too.

Fox was distracted by the door opening again. He looked up to see his favorite customer. He smiled. "Hi, Riyo. What can I get you today?"

She smiled back. "Surprise me." She always said that. It was more of a game at this point, she could've ordered any of the drinks Fox has served her in the past. But she seemed to enjoy the surprise and Fox liked the challenge of creating new and new delicious and aesthetic combinations.

"Of course."

[meracyn]

i love your writing 💕 can you do my request Kwon x fem reader where they get invited to a party by a karate tournament (not sekai taikai btw) and reader isnt really outgoing (kind of tomboyish/simple) but her friends sam and devon convince her to go and tory is with miyagi do still so they are all at readers house and kwon and reader end up dancing and it leads tk him taking her to his room? Spicy lol and sry if its to long ty if you acdept

ONE DANCE || kwon jae-sung

a/n: tysm anon 🫶 i got a similar request to this lol,, time for another spicy shot guysssss ayeeeeee

warnings: suggestive content ahead, cursing

Parties weren’t really your thing.

The drinking, crowds, fights— it was a pain to deal with.

However, this time was different. After receiving an invitation to a party by the hosts of a local karate tournament, you couldn’t exactly refuse.

Especially since your friends were here, in your apartment, insisting you go—those being Devon, Sam, and Tory.

“You are coming to the party tonight.” Devon declared, giving you a look that made it clear she wasn’t willing to argue.

“No way. I prefer to stay home, thank you.” You groaned out.

“Come on. Get up, get dressed and come have some fun with us.”

Tory and Sam, who were both chilling on the couch, chimed in as well.

“We’ll help you pick something out,” Tory said.

“Yeah,” Sam added. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fun. Besides, you won’t be alone.”

The next thing you knew, you were sitting on the bed, surrounded by clothes that the three of them kept throwing at you. Apparently, your clothes were too ‘simple’, thus not acceptable to wear at a party.

“Why can’t I wear jeans and a top?” You asked, picking up a red shirt from the pile.

“Too plain.”

“Boring.”

“Not slutty enough.”

“Damn.” You replied, feeling defensive at their immediate answers. “Am I supposed to be sorry for not trying to get knocked up at my age?”

“Nope.” Devon piped up, before holding up a black dress. “This is the one.”

“It literally screams ‘bend me over’.” You said, yanking it out of her grasp. “How the hell did this get into my clothes?”

Tory raised an eyebrow, “You sure you didn’t buy it?”

You shook your head in response before turning back to Devon. “It’s a bit too much..right?”

“Not at all,” She grinned, “Trust me, you’ll look amazing in this.”

“She’s right. Who knows, you might meet someone suited for you.” Sam spoke up with an encouraging smile.

Tory nudged you on the shoulder, agreeing with Sam.

“I...” You trailed off, before giving in. “Fine. I’ll wear it.”

Devon clapped her hands in excitement, “Great! Now, let’s get you ready!”

By the time you arrived, you were already getting second thoughts about accepting.

The place was buzzing with people, the music so loud you could barely hear what your friends were saying. Devon led the way, holding your hand as she dragged you into the middle of the crowd, Sam and Tory in tow as they laughed along.

“Just relax, it’s going to be fun.” Sam reassured as she handed you a drink.

Devon excused herself to go talk to Kenny, leaving the three of you alone. Even though you were engaged in their conversation, it wasn’t long until your attention started to drift.

And there he was—Kwon Jae-Sung. Leaning against the bar, watching you with a look in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. As your eyes met, he smirked. The way his gaze lingered on you was intriguing.

You recalled a few times where his touch would linger on you a little too long, to glances and flirty remarks, the energy thick with undeniable need. The thought of it only made you get embarrassed.

“Fuck.” You cursed under your breath as you averted your gaze immediately, cheeks turning red.

Tory noticed your actions, looking over and spotting Kwon. “Seems like someone got caught.”

Sam chuckled, leaning over, “Go for it. You got this.” Placing her hand on your back, she gently pushed you forward before they both walked away to let you have your moment.

Great. You thought. "You won’t be alone," they said.

You tried to ignore it, but as he took a step forward, moving through the crowd towards you, your heart rate sped up.

“Hey,” Kwon’s voice was smooth, a small smile forming on his face,

“Care to dance?”

Your breath got caught in your throat. What?

Looking up, you noticed there was something about the way he looked at you– as if some sort of hidden intention, though you couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Uh..” You trailed off before nodding. “Sure.”

Kwon held your hand in his, leading you to the center of the room. His hands slid down to rest on your waist, pulling you close against him, his touch firm. You could feel the heat of his body on yours.

The beat of the music slowed, giving Kwon the chance to pull you even closer until there was barely any space between you both. He leaned down, his lips slightly brushing against your ear.

“Trying to be a slut for all the guys here?” he asked, breath warm against your skin. His comment made your face heat up as you struggled to come up with a reply. Then, you felt his index finger trace your dress’ zipper down until your lower back.

You expected him to pull away, but he remained his touch on your dress. Kwon looked up, gaze flickered down to your lips before meeting your eyes. For a moment, you forgot about everything else, tranced under the look of his eyes. But before the tension could build any further, Kwon pulled back slightly.

“Come with me,” he said lowly.

You nodded without thinking as he grabbed your hand, leading you out of the party, the cool night air hitting your skin as you stepped into the empty street. The city was quiet, the loud noise of the party fading away as you both walked down the alley.

Once arriving at his room, Kwon shut the door with a soft click, dark eyes kept on your figure as you walked forward. Kwon stepped up to you from behind, hand reaching out to trace the neckline of your dress, keeping his touch light, yet sent shivers down your spine.

“Tell me when it’s too much.” He murmured, as his fingers slowly pulled down the zipper of your dress. Your dress came undone, and began to slip off your shoulders. Kwon’s hands caressed your skin, pressing soft kisses down your neck as he pushed down the garment until it fell on the ground, leaving you almost exposed entirely to him. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning.

Kwon reached up, his hand on your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I want to hear every little sound you make, princess. Can you do that for me? hm?”

Without giving you a chance to speak, he leaned in and kissed you– like a soft, tantalizing burn. Soon, he lifted you up in his arms, carrying you over to his bed. Gently laying you down, his eyes never left yours as he took off his shirt, leaving you to see his toned chest.

“By the end of tonight, you’ll be mine only. ‘til then, focus on me.”

[onmyo-jin]

Ying Lei + ZYC and ZYZ

21. On a place of insecurity

(Ying Lei needs some love in this fandom ♥️)

You're so right, Ying Lei deserves ALL the love!

Seeing Zhao Yuanzhou and Zhou Yichen being disgustingly happy together doesn't get any easier, even with the passage of time. Ying Lei had kind of hoped it would: that he'd get used to them being sappy, and coincidentally going to bed at the same time, and then arriving at breakfast at the same time as well, looking equally sleep-deprived.

It's not that he doesn't want his friends to be happy! They deserve all the happiness after what life has been throwing at them. It's just that Ying Lei kind of wishes he had that, too. He stares into his cup of wine. The others have long gone to bed, and it's really no fun drinking alone, but as long as he doesn't finish this cup he doesn't have to go to bed yet. If he doesn't finish the wine he does not have to finish the empty darkness of his room, and lie awake in the night while his mind fills the emptiness with too many thoughts.

It's trying to do so even now, and Ying Lei has to shake his head to dislodge the thoughts that are trying to drag him down. Perhaps that's why he doesn't notice until it's too late.

Another pair of wine cups appears to his left in a familiar swirl of red energy, and someone sets down a new bottle of wine to his right. Zhou Yichen-daren sits down across the table, and the inevitable demonic presence that follows him elegantly flops down onto the cushion next to Ying Lei. He doesn't even bother to sit upright, and Ying Lei can practically hear his grandfather berating him. Apparently Zhao Yuanzhou cannot, because he leans his shoulder against Ying Lei's and reaches for the wine.

"Drinking alone isn't good for you, little mountain god," he purrs, and pours all three of them a drink. Ying Lei loses his tongue somewhere between feeling the demon's warmth even through his mountain clothes and the way the demon's thin robes are barely being held together by a single ruby-and-gold clasp at his throat.

Ying Lei decides that the sensible thing to do is to ignore him. Across the table Zhou Yichen is staring at him a little too intently, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He is dressed at least a little more decently, which is to say: he's not showing any skin. What he is wearing, however, is most definitely a cloak that belongs to a certain great demon, over what appears to be his sleeping clothes… "Xiao Zhuo-daren, I thought you… both of you went to bed earlier. Is there something wrong?"

"Hmm, very wrong," The demon practically purrs as he hands Ying Lei his cup. Ying Lei looks at him and then remembers he was ignoring him and turns back to Zhou Yichen. He is just in time to see him blink away a confused look.

"Our friend seemed lonely," is all the explanation Zhuo-daren offers. "So we decided to make sure you're not," the demon adds. He raises his cup in a toast, and when Zhuo Yichen joins in Ying Lei can't very well leave them hanging.

"To good company," the demon toasts, and they drink deeply. It suddenly occurs to Ying Lei that Zhuo-daren's ... boyfriend? His partner? Zhou Yichen's demon is leaning against Ying Lei, barely dressed, entirely indecent, and Ying Lei is letting it happen. He's also pathetically grateful for the company, and he'd rather the demon didn't move, but he also doesn't want to offend Zhuo-daren–

Someone lightly flicks a finger against his forehead, and Ying Lei is thrown back into the present. "Really, little mountain god, someone like you shouldn't get drunk so easily," the demon teases. He moves to steal Ying Lei's cup as well, but Ying Lei isn't about to let him steal the one thing he can rely on for company. He moves the cup to his far hand and holds it out of the great demon's reach. Zhao Yuanzhou makes a playful grab for it anyway, and for a moment too long Ying Lei is distracted by Zhuo Yichen's smile at their antics. Then he overbalances, and falls over sideways, and the demon leaning against him falls over with him.

The floor is not so far, and there is a cushion left there from when Bai Jiu was sitting on his other side during dinner. He lands softly enough, and even manages to save the wine– and then Zhao Yuanzhou plants an arm on either side of his head, catching himself and looming dangerously close over Ying Lei.

There is an infuriating smile on the demon's face, and he doesn't move at all, so Ying Lei can only lie there, one arm outstretched to hold his cup, the rest of him trapped under the warm weight of a demon. From somewhere above them, Zhou Yichen sighs. "Is this what you meant when you said you wanted to discuss our proposition, you great monkey?" Ying Lei can hear the eye roll that accompanies his words, and he has a front row view of the demon pouting, winking at Ying Lei, and then looking at Zhou Yichen all pouty again– without getting up from where he is practically sitting on top of Ying Lei. Ying Lei wonders what proposition they are talking about.

"Xiao Zhou-daren, sometimes you have to go with the flow! If life gives you an opportunity you should take hold of it with both hands and not let go."

Very carefully, Ying Lei sets down the cup of wine on the floor above his head. With his free hand he starts to lever himself up, fully expecting Zhao Yuanzhou to move out of his way. He should have known better than to expect the demon to behave in any way predictably, for Zhao Yuanzhou does not move an inch. He only smirks wider when Ying Lei tries to sit up and comes to within an inch of those smiling lips before realizing the demon's play.

"O- opportunity?"

"Yes," Ying Lei can feel the breath of that word touch his own lips, and shivers. Zhao Yuanzhou's smile is all teeth now, it is hard to look away. "We thought you seemed… a little too alone. And when we saw you watching us leave this evening we thought: perhaps he could keep us company."

There is something oddly specific about the way he emphasizes that Ying Lei could keep them company. Not his friends coming to drink with him, no: he, Ying Lei, join… them?

"Hah?" the thought refuses to make sense, but the demon only blinks at him, toothy smiley unchanged: dangerous and tempting. "But… aren't you two…?" It seems rude to even say the words, that his friends are sleeping together, living together, practically married except for some paperwork.

"Yes," both of his friends chorus at the same time.

"But then why…"

"Why not?" Zhao Yuanzhou grins. "Only if you're interested, of course," Zhou Yichen adds, ever considerate. "This isn't about us." Ying Lei has so many questions right now, he doesn't even know where to start. He settles for a lame: "I don't' get it," and immediately feels like hiding in a mountain cave for a few years because of how stupid that sounds.

"Allow me to show you," Zhao Yuanzhou grins, and doesn't wait for permission. He closes the small gap between them, and wraps a warm hand around Ying Lei's chin. His lips are hot against his own. Ying Lei gasps, and the great demon uses that invitation to invade his mouth, licking and tasting and stealing his breath–

Then he leans back, and he's still wearing that same smirk. Panic wells up in Ying Lei and he looks towards Zhou Yichen across the table– only he is gone, his seat empty. The warm fingers on his chin turn his face back to Zhao Yuanzhou, and then further to the other side, where Zhou Yichen has sat down next to them. Ying Lei doesn't get the time to worry about kissing Xiao Zhuo-daren's boyfriend-demon-something. Zhao Yuanzhou presents Ying Lei to Zhou Yichen, and Zhou Yichen smiles and wraps a hand around YIng Lei's neck. His hand is cold, or perhaps it only seems that way because Ying Lei must be blushing bright red, and he pulls him close. Zhao Yuanzhou sits back up to allow him space, and Ying Lei moves as if in a dream. Zhou Yichen's kiss is entirely different: gentle and questioning, lips moving together as if partners in a dance. His hand is solid as stone, unwavering and undoubting, and Ying Lei feels like a small stone caught between two great rivers. Xiao Zhuo's kiss steals his breath in an entirely different way, and when he finally comes up for air two pairs of eyes are looking at him expectantly.

[thegreatestheaver]

in the 17 days I’ve been college free I have like. completely reversed my sleep schedule I’m COOKED. going to bed near 5am every night then waking up near 2pm if I’m not forced awake by someone ringing my phone (more often than not I am indeed forced awake)

[ashmp3]

got told i have mesmerizing eyes + got asked if i am lesbian in a span of 5 minutes we are so back

[moonilit]

I like to think Bruce have a journal, not as batman just as Bruce Wayne and you can see where he wrote all the headaches he gets from his kids

[cleverpaws]

sneegen thank u for reminding me i forgot to put this somewhere. but my second doodle dump of my showfall kids AU from like . 6 months ago was during a time when hetch being rgb's like pseudo adopted father was still canon to that one 😟 yeah it is NOT canon anymore and i never said that anywhere so im saying it here

[maretriarch]

turns out how not to be deficient in fat in your diet is to stop eating only low fat versions of foods

[the-busy-ghost]

After over two and a half years of living in this house I have finally summoned up enough courage and energy to hang An Art:

And yes, I'm still terrified it will fall down if I put the washing machine on for a spin

[artemistorm]

You'd think I was in the lost woods with all this brain fog.

[quasar-concept]

the amount of people around me with caffeine addictions is actually so bad 😭 it makes me genuinely sad and like,,, i know we're uni students so our sleep schedules are wacko but I KNOW most of these people had these addictions before uni. I know because I saw it at my high school. and it's just treated so normally, as if it's not a genuine risk to heart health? as if addictions (even to something as common and mostly harmless as caffeine) are not serious? and you say something and then they're like "but i'm a uni student!!" and I'm like yeah! you should not be reliant on a substance to exist! that's not healthy for anyone! and they act like that's a weird thing to say?? and i'm like, im not trying to tell you what to do, I just want you to know it's an addiction and should not be taken lightly just because it's fuelled by energy drinks and coffee. and also, if you do genuinely need a stimulant to function and you need multiple of them? you should get help for that and also reevaluate your schedule and priorities. idk i think just saying all uni students have caffeine addictions is neglectful!

[critterchitters-closedcaptions]

trying to decipher if the overwhelming dread & Thoughts are cause of the state of the world or cause i need a shower.

vent post in the tags. idk. do whatever 👍