#ekat19 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theonottsbxtch · 1 month ago

Text

PRIVATE | LN4

an: requested by @bhuijnbhuijn-blog this was so fun to make! it feels to good to make a smau after a few days of straight writing

fc: random girls on pintrest and isabel larosa

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, gracieabrams, ekat19 and 984,284 others

thank you london and thank you to my beloved

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userone: seeing her live changed my brain chemistry

usertwo: oop- the flowers?

userthree: god she is stunning

yourbestfreind: mi amorrrrrr

yourusername: chiquita 😽

userfour: beloved??? has our man hater girl got herself a boyfriend

ekat19: hermosa

yourusername: ethan, basta.

userfive: is her beloved carl gallagher?????!??!?!?!?

appartment in monaco

You were perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, barefoot, legs dangling as you watched Lando move around the open kitchen. The soft click of cabinet doors and the muted thud of a cereal box landing on the counter are the only sounds, apart from the faint music playing from your speaker. It was your calm playlist, just background noise, a playlist you curated 100% but one Lando pretended he created to wind you up. He didn’t mind—he hummed along sometimes, absentmindedly, just like now. The late afternoon light filtered through the windows, casting a warm, golden hue over everything, making the moment feel even more private, more intimate.

Lando was shirtless wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips. It was a version of him few people ever get to see. No fireproof suit, no helmet. No world watching his every move. Here, in this quiet corner of your shared world, he was just... him. And you loved him like this, more than anything.

As he fumbled with the coffee machine, you leant back on your hands, your fingers curling against the cool granite of the counter. The smell of coffee mingled with the lazy warmth of the afternoon. You were both settled into this comfortable rhythm of being together, the kind of domesticity that felt almost foreign when you thought of your lives outside these walls—your career, his racing, the flashing lights and the fans.

But here, it was different.

You’d been thinking about it for a while now. The thought had been on the tip of your tongue for weeks, and today felt like the right time to broach it. Or maybe it was just that the stillness of this moment made you feel brave. You took a breath, voice soft as you broke the quiet.

“I’ve been thinking…” Your words drift into the space between you, casual but with a certain weight that you know will catch his attention. Lando looked over at you, coffee cup in hand, waiting for you to continue. You smiled, trying to keep it light. “Maybe it’s time we go public… on Instagram.”

He froze for a beat, his eyes locking on yours as if he was trying to read your face, gauge how serious you were. Slowly, he set the cup down on the counter, his brow furrowing in that familiar way that meant he was already thinking too much.

“Public?” he repeated, like he was testing the word, feeling it out. His voice was calm, but you could sense the undertone of concern, the hesitation that came with anything that involves exposing more of your lives to the world outside. “You sure about that?”

You nodded, even though you knew he was not just asking for the sake of it. There was more behind his question than the words. It was not just a simple post to him—it was a line you were crossing, a step into a world he was all too familiar with, and not in a good way.

“I am,” you said softly. “We’ve been so careful, keeping things private, but… I don’t want to hide us anymore. I don’t want to pretend we’re not a part of each other’s lives.” You watched him as you spoke, searching his face for any sign of agreement, but he was still quiet, arms folded across his chest, his gaze drifting somewhere just past you.

Lando shifted his weight, leaning against the counter, his fingers drumming lightly against the granite, a telltale sign that his mind was working through what you’d just said. After a moment, he sighed, running a hand through his curls, the kind of movement that let you know he was trying to choose his words carefully.

“I get it,” he said finally, his voice softer now, but there was still a trace of reluctance. “But… it’s different for you. Your fans, they’re supportive. You’re already used to the attention. My world… it’s not like that. It can get ugly fast. And once we put it out there, it’s out there. We can’t take it back.”

You slid off the counter and moved toward him, your bare feet silent on the floor. Standing in front of him, you reached for his hands, threading your fingers through his. “I know, love. I know how hard it can be for you. But I’m not asking for some big, dramatic reveal. Just something simple. A photo. Something that feels like us, something quiet.”

He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. You could see the conflict in his eyes—the protective instinct he’d always had when it came to the life you’d built together versus the part of him that wanted to trust in your strength, in the fact that you could handle it.

“I don’t want them coming after you,” he said quietly, almost more to himself than to you. “I don’t want you to deal with the kind of hate I get.”

Lifting one hand to his face, cupping his cheek gently, your thumb grazed over his skin. “I’ve been in the public eye for years now. I’ve had my share of negativity, too. But we’ve got each other, right? We can handle it. I can handle it.” You paused, letting your words sink in. “And I’m tired of hiding something that makes me so happy.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment, as if he was trying to imagine what it would be like—the backlash, the media storm. But when he opened them again, there was something softer there, a quiet surrender. He still looked hesitant, but there was an acceptance in his expression now, like maybe, just maybe, he was willing to trust you on this.

“A photo,” he repeated, his voice almost resigned but not unkind. “Something simple.”

You nodded, your smile growing. “Just one.”

He chuckled softly, pulling you into his arms, his chin resting on the top of your head. “You really want this, huh?” His voice was a little lighter now, though you could still feel the weight of the decision lingering between you.

“I do,” you murmured into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him—clean and warm, like home. “We don’t have to make a big deal out of it. Just something that feels like us. Something honest.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands resting on your waist. “Alright,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “But if it all blows up in our faces, you’re the one dealing with the PR disaster.”

You laughed, the sound soft and full of relief. “Deal. I’ll take full responsibility.” You leant up and kissed him, your lips brushing his with a gentleness that said more than words ever could. “Promise.”

landonorris

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enjoyed the final show of the break, time for austin

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maxfewtrell: sick hoodie where's it from

landonorris: secret 🤫

userone: he is so HOT

usertwo: my man my man my man

quadrant: that helmet 👌

userthree: why is this man at so many concerts gah damn

userfour: i don't want to sound crazy but...

userfive: LET'S GO LANDO

yourusername:🤘🤘

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yourusername

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yeah, my boyfriend's pretty cool but he's not as cool as me

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userone: NO WAY

yourusername: YES WAY

usertwo: i did not expect this one icl

userthree: i- speechless

userfour: HER BOYFRIEND IS LANDO NORRIS

yourbestfriend: cutest couple ever

yourusername: te amo

userfive: oh to be yn

landonorris: i love you

yourusername: i love you more

usersix: she's so hot

userseven: defo cooler than lando

ekat19: damn, he stole my bitch

yourusername: ethan.

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appartment in monaco

It had been a few weeks since you had gone public, and the house felt the same. The kitchen still smelt like coffee in the afternoons, and Lando’s laughter still echoed through the rooms. But outside, in the world that wasn’t contained by these walls, things had shifted.

The first few days after you had posted that picture—a simple, candid shot of you two tangled on the couch, laughing at something neither of you can remember now—felt like a blur. Your Instagram blew up instantly, flooded with comments, some gushing, some not so kind. The had media picked it up, headlines spun their usual stories, and of course, his world—Formula 1, with its intense, relentless scrutiny—had its own opinions. Most of it was harmless, but some of it... wasn’t.

Lando was standing in front of the window, staring out at nothing in particular. You could tell from the way his shoulders were tense, from the way his hand kept moving to rub the back of his neck, that something had been weighing on him. He’d been quieter these last few days, not in the way that shut you out, but in the way that let you know he was overthinking, worrying about things he didn’t need to.

You were sprawled on the couch, phone in hand, pretending to scroll through Instagram, but your attention was on him. You watched as he checked his phone again, probably seeing another headline or some new wave of comments. His jaw tightened, and that was when you knew it’s time to say something.

“Lan,” you called out softly, trying to break the tension in the room. “Come over here.”

He hesitated for a second, like he was debating whether to pull you into his worry or let it be, but then he walked over, his feet dragging slightly on the wooden floor. He sank down beside you on the couch, letting out a long, tired breath. His arm came around your shoulders instinctively, pulling you closer, but his mind was clearly somewhere else.

“Talk to me,” you said gently, tilting your head to look up at him.

He didn’t meet your eyes at first, he just stared at the floor. “I’ve been seeing some of the comments,” Lando admitted, his voice low, as if he was trying to keep it casual but couldn’t quite manage it. “There’s a lot of hate. A lot of people saying… awful things. About you, about us.” He paused, running his hand through his hair. “I didn’t want this for you.”

You felt his arm tighten around you, like he was trying to protect you from something that was already out there, something he couldn’t control. It broke your heart a little, the way he carried that weight, like he was responsible for every cruel word thrown your way.

You shifted in his arms, turning to face him, one hand reaching up to touch his cheek. “I know,” you said softly. “But, darling, it’s not getting to me. Not even a little.” You smiled, trying to get him to see the truth in your eyes. “I’ve been in this business long enough to know that people are going to say whatever they want. But they don’t matter. You do.”

He finally looked up at you, his brow furrowed, still sceptical. “But some of it’s brutal,” he insisted, his voice tight. “They’re dragging you through the mud just because we went public. I didn’t want you to deal with this part of my life, the ugly part.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head, and the sound seemed to catch him off guard. “Honestly? I’ve dealt with worse. You should’ve seen the comments I got after that one music video,” you teased lightly, hoping to ease his worry. “But this? This is nothing.”

He didn’t look convinced, but you could see him trying to process what you were saying, like he wanted to believe you but couldn’t quite let go of his own guilt. So, you decided to prove it to him in a way you knew would get through that thick head of his.

With a sly smile, you grabbed your phone and opened Twitter, your fingers moved quickly over the screen as you pulled up your account. He watched you, confused, until you glanced up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked, suspicion lacing his tone.

You bit your lip, pretending to think about it, then you tilted the phone toward him so he could see the tweet you’d just typed out. In bold letters, it read:

"how i sleep knowing i get to sleep with this hunk of a man at night and you don’t "

Below the text was the picture you’d been sitting on for a while—one of him sleeping in the paddock last season.

His eyes widened as he read it, then flicked to the photo. “You’re not serious,” he said, though there’s a laugh hidden in his voice now.

“Oh, I am very serious,” you said, grinning at him as you hovered over the “Tweet” button. “If people want to hate, let them. But I’m going to remind them who I get to come home to every night.”

He stared at you for a second, then shook his head, a small, incredulous smile finally tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re unbelievable.”

You shrugged, your finger tapping the button before he could say another word. “It’s out there now,” you said, holding up the phone in triumph. “Let them come for me.”

He leant back against the couch, running his hands over his face, but you could see the way his shoulders had finally relaxed, the tension ebbing away. He laughed, a real, genuine laugh, and it warmed you from the inside out. “You’re actually insane,” he said, pulling you into his chest, kissing the top of your head. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

You looked up at him, beaming. “Sweetheart, they can say whatever they want. It doesn’t change anything. I’ve got you, and that’s all that matters.”

For the first time in days, the worry in his eyes faded completely. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly, his breath warm against your hair. “I love you,” he murmured, the words soft but full of meaning.

“I love you more.”

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yourusername

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haters gunna hate, anyway check out my new song x

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landonorris: te amo x

yourusername: amore

ekat19: i remember when we used to have matching shirts...

yourusername: ETHAN. BASTA.

yourbestfriend: cuties

landonorris

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i have the coolest girlfriend ever 🤭

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yourusername: simp

landonorris: yeah and what

comment if you want to be tagged in future works x

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birdiewriteslit · 9 months ago

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wildest dreams au

luke hughes x abigail abernathy

masterlist

note: this took me a week bc i have to go to school sorry y’all

abyabynathy

tagged _quinnhughes, lhughes06, jackhughes

Liked by jackhughes and 1,896,245 others

abyabynathy the boys are back in town

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_quinnhughes DAMN STRAIGHT🗣️🗣️

jackhughes @/_quinnhughes 🙄🙄

abyabynathy @/jackhughes looks like someone’s mad about the loss

jackhughes @/abyabynathy don’t accuse me

rudeth skipping the bruins game??

abyabynathy @/rudeth this is the only exception

user1 @/rudeth why is he commenting

user2 @/rudeth are yall back together or something

trevorzegras when will you come to my game

abyabynathy @/trevorzegras @/dixiedamelio come get your man

user3 @/abyabynathy HER WHAT.

ekat19 miss my girl

abyabynathy @/ekat19 shameless days>>

madelyncline LOVE YOU DEAREST

❤️ by author

jamie.drysdale collab when🤔

abyabynathy @/jamie.drysdale hmmm

user1 @/jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras well well well

January 6, 2024

—

messages 9:40 pm

jack: so what is going on with you and luke

jack: you guys were being weird earlier

abigail: jack we’re in the same room just talk to me

jack: luke’s in the other room i am being safe

abigail: whatever

jack: so why has he been ignoring you all night and why does quinn know and i don’t

abigail: how do you know that quinn knows🤨

jack: bc he told me not to ask

abigail: yet here we are

jack: i dont like the vibes i need to fix them this is weird

jack: you never fight

abigail: fine he’s mad bc i made peace with rudy and i was with him the other day

jack: is that it

jack: your breakup was toxic but if you’re good with him now idk why luke would be mad about it

—

Abigail bit her lip, glancing at Jack from across the couch. “There is something else,” she said quietly.

Jack looked up from his phone and set it down beside him. “What is it?”

“You can’t say anything to anyone because Luke and I haven’t talked about it yet.” Abigail scooted closer to Jack and held up her pinky.

Jack intertwined his pinky with hers and motioned with his other hand that his lips were zipped. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“Okay,” Abigail said cautiously. “Luke and I kissed on New Year’s.”

Jack’s eyes blew wide. “What?” he practically shouted. Abigail slapped her hands over his mouth.

“Shut the fuck up!” she reprimanded through gritted teeth.

Jack made wild gestures with his hands and pushed hers away from his face. “That’s not what I thought you were going to say. You can’t just do that!”

Abigail shrugged. “Well, sorry to be blunt but I’m not sure how else you wanted me to say it.”

“I cannot fucking believe this,” Jack whispered. Abigail felt obligated to say something, but Jack brought his finger up to shush her. “You told Quinn and not me?”

Abigail rolled her eyes. “No, idiot. He just knows Luke’s mad about Rudy. He doesn’t know about the kiss thing.”

Jack grinned. “So I’m special.”

“You are not special,” Abigail said, exasperated. “I just don’t know what to do about this. He hasn’t said anything about it.”

“Abby, he’s probably waiting for you to say something,” Jack rationalized. “You know how he is.”

“Maybe. Should I talk to him about it?” Abigail asked.

Jack looked hesitant. “Can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Do you love him?”

Abigail’s eyes widened and she felt her heartbeat quicken in her chest. “Jack, what?”

“I’m serious, Abby,” he said, his face stern.

“Jesus, I don’t know. I don’t even know where to go from here,” she admitted, running a nervous hand through her hair.

“You better figure it out because this is a big thing and I don’t want either of you getting hurt,” he said seriously.

“I know.” Abigail nodded solemnly.

“Do you want to be with him or not?” Jack asked finally.

Abigail thought for a moment. She always stopped herself from thinking about Luke like this. It felt forbidden to want him the way that she knew she did.

That night, when they kissed, it felt like she was on fire. She had never felt like that with any of her exes, not even Rudy. She always felt different when she was around Luke. He wasn’t her brother like Jack and Quinn were. He never was, even when they were kids. She knew the answer to Jack’s first question.

“I do,” she confessed softly.

“Then you know what to.”

“Yeah.”

Jack stood from the couch. “Goodnight, Abby.”

“Goodnight, Jack.”