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tomsparkyr · 28 days ago

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𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐘!

following episode one of 'inside' — george clarke x fem!reader

by any means i do not own 'inside' and all credit is theirs (!!)

wc: 6.4K

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You sat yourself down on the chair placed in the middle of the room, a soft blue and purple light flooding the area. You smiled at the camera in front of you, feeling a little bit nervous at the entire concept of the show; but nonetheless, you still agreed to contribute to it.

It was difficult not to tell your friends about the whole thing, sworn (and to a contract) that you weren’t allowed to tell them you were entering a home with no outside contact for 7 days; only allowed to tell them you were taking a social media break.

Your family knew, obviously. But unable to tell your fellow youtuber friends was tough, because it was so painfully obvious where you were going.

Having to lie to George, Chris and everyone else was awkward. They had arranged plans for the next week and you had to reluctantly say no, because of course, you would much rather be stuck in a home with people you don’t know and then spending money that could potentially be yours.

Clearing your throat, you introduced yourself.

”Hello, my name is Y/N, I’m 24 and I’m a youtuber slash content creator!” You grinned expectantly at the camera.

Continuing, “Most of my content is just… me and my friends getting drunk and filming it because we think we’re funny!” You answered honestly, thinking back on the many times you got too drunk filming pub golf videos that George had to give you a piggy-back on the walk home.

The camera crew asked you how well you think you’re going to do in the challenge,

“I’d like to think I’ll do well, honestly!” You laughed.

”I spend money but I don’t spend so much at a time; like I could go weeks without buying something, then suddenly I’m a couple hundred quid down within a week?”

You continued, “I think I can go without my phone for a week; I’d like to think I’m not that addicted.” You laughed and cringed slightly.

”If anything I think I’ll miss my friends more than anything. I’m sure I’ll love the people there but it’s meeting new faces, I’d just love to walk in there now and see someone I know— My dog! That’s it, I’ll miss my dog this most!” You interrupted yourself, losing your train of thought.

The camera crew laughed at you and pushed the interest about your dog back home, “I just hope she’s being looked after. I’ve left her with George for the week so I think she’ll live?” You laughed nervously.

Upon this, the camera crew behind the device smirked and tilted their heads downwards so you couldn’t see their face. A couple of them turned around and subtly nudged each other.

It was at this point that the crew said that your interview was over and that it was time to enter the place you’ll be living in for the next week.

You nervously picked up your suitcase, clinging onto your comfort pillow in your right arm and hugging it tight to your chest. You couldn’t remember if you could take this into the house but taking no risks, you took it anyway.

You entered a white room with zero life in it; a metal detector gate stood in the centre of the room and a hole to put your luggage in.

”Oh, God.” You muttered under your breath as you realised there was no turning back now.

You paused for a second and scanned the area before realising it was just you in here, “Oh, I’m by myself… that’s embarrassing.” You laughed at yourself, knowing your friends at home were going to be making fun of you when this aired.

Walking through the metal detector, you lugged your suitcase behind you and only just recognised that you might have overpacked for a place that would not utilise your items in absolutely any way.

After putting your suitcase on the conveyor, you walked through to the main area in which you could hear some voices, none of which you could distinguish.

Walking through the empty hallway, you called out “Hello?”

Upon saying this, two heads poked out and their eyes widened at the sight of you.

The girl ran over to you and embraced you into a hug and introduced herself, “Hey, I’m Mya!” She smiled at you as you responded; she was happy there was another girl in the house with her already.

Meanwhile, the man who had seen you first turned his attention to the other male in the house as you and Mya embraced; “Yo, George, isn’t that your girlfriend?”

George furrowed his brows, a bit taken aback “My what?” He laughed a bit as his feet took him towards the hallway to peek at the new arrival; who was supposedly his girlfriend?

Pulling back from Mya’s hug, you made direct eye-contact with George, your best friend, standing a couple feet away from you. “What the fuck?” You shouted and broke out into a sprint towards him, him already on route to you.

”No way!” He shouted back and caught your figure into a tight hug, his arms wrapped comfortably around your waist and lifted you off the ground slightly as he buried his face into your neck amidst the hug.

You slung your arms around his broad shoulders and fell into the all too familiar embrace, catching his scent and subtly running your hands through the hair on the back of his head.

”Why didn’t you tell me you were coming in here?” He chuckled, his voice muffled as his head was tucked into your neck; he had settled you down onto the floor now but didn’t falter his grip by any means.

You laughed back at him, pulling your head away so you could maintain eye-contact with him, “Why didn’t you tell me?” You retorted jokingly.

PK looked confused, “So they are boyfriend and girlfriend then?” Mya laughed at him, knowing the extent that you and George got shipped on Tiktok, the occasional edit finding itself on everyone’s for you page.

You and George turned back to look at PK,“No, no! George is my best friend!” You smiled at him, still in disbelief that George was actually here; “Half my videos are just with her.” George finished for you.

PK tilted his head, pointing between you two in which at the time you realised George’s hands were still resting on your waist while yours were cradling the back of his neck.

Confused (still), PK shook his head and waved his hand in dismissal, completely convinced that he was looking at a couple in front of him.

As more people entered one by one, you and George dispersed from the group, his arm slung around your shoulders and keeping you against him the entire time.

You shook your head and looked up at him with a smile, “What are you even doing here?”

George smiled down at you as you settled themselves down on the sofa in the living room.

“Dunno, the Sidemen like me so I thought, why not?” He laughed at himself, you scooted closer to him as he picked up a cushion to set it down on yours and his lap.

He nudged you, “What about you, you little minx, how did you keep that a secret from me?”

You smirked and fiddled with the loose threads on the cushion.

”I didn’t tell anyone!” You admitted, “Not you, not Chris, not Arthur; I told no one! Not even— Wait…” You trailed off, eyes widening.

”George, who’s looking after my dog?” You said, fear flooding your features.

George laughed and threw his head back, a hand rubbing up and down your shoulder as you persisted on the whereabouts of your dog.

”She’s living with Chris and Arthur for the week.” He reassured you, an obvious relief washing over you as your shoulders fell from a hunched position.

In your own little world, you and George nattered away to each other, updating him on everything he’s missed and completely ignorant to the new members joining the house; because you were all too consumed with each other.

George just knew at that moment that when this aired, Chris was going to rip into the way he was staring at his ‘best friend’.

A shouting voice tore you out of your George-infused daze as it was directed at you two, “Wait, you’re that couple that’s always edited on my for you page?”

The blonde girl next to her snapped her head around to the pair of you sitting with George’s arm still around you, her eyes widening, “Holy shit! I love you two!”

George’s cheeks suddenly were painted a pink colour and you sported a flushed face. An awkward laugh bubbled from your chest, “What?”

Upon seeing your awkward faces and red creeping up your necks, the blonde girl covered her mouth and apologised, “Oh fuck! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

You stood up and left George’s touch, walking over to the girl with a comforting smile on your face.

“Don’t worry! Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.” You said as you raised your arms out for a hug.

She met you halfway as she responded,“Ugh, you’re gorgeous. I’m Milli.” She smiled sweetly at you, peering over her shoulder to see the other girl still gawking at you.

The louder one strutted over and immediately pulled you into a hug, “I’m Farah, who is sorry about—“ “Oh, God. Don’t even worry about it!” You reassured the girl, finding it quite amusing that you and George had crept your ways onto other people’s for you page.

time skip!

The bedroom situation was the next challenge.

After introducing yourself to everyone (they acted as if they didn’t know who you were, but they had all seen the George x Y/N edits) you all made your way over to the bedrooms, some even breaking out into a sprint.

A couple people jumped onto their beds, claiming it as their own. There were two double beds and the rest were singles, but because there were only 10 people at the time, sharing a double bed wouldn’t be an issue at the moment.

George leaped onto one bed and said sarcastically, “Oh my God, guys, stop fighting over my bed!” You laughed at him and slowly sat down on the one remaining bed next to his.

You crawled onto your bed after readjusting the pillows against the headboard so you could sit up comfortably, leaning back and allowing your eyes to close momentarily.

It wasn’t until you felt a nudge on your shin that you opened your eyes and saw a George Clarke resting on his stomach, a pillow squished between his chest and the bed, his beaming smile staring at you.

You tilted your head at him and smiled softly, lightly kicking your foot back at him as his hand lingered on your leg; the rest of the room became a blur as he kept looking at you.

Sending a quick wink your way, he hoisted himself up off the bed and gestured a hand out to you. You took it as he helped you onto your feet, so the group could walk back into the living room per producers request.

The group all positioned themselves on the couch, George settling down on the end as you squeezed between him and Mandi. With little spare room on the couch, George carefully lifted your leg so it was led over his thigh and his hand rested comfortably on your knee. Opposite you, Whitney grinned at the action.

George was fiddling with his bottle as the group conversed, “So, Y/N what do you do?” Cinna asked you.

Hearing your name, you perked up. “I mainly do YouTube videos with this weirdo here.” You pointed a thumb George’s way.

The group laughed at you and took careful notice at your closeness with George. “And George, what do you do?” She continued.

George tilted his head, “I started on TikTok.” He trailed off as Whitney butted in. “Do you talk on TikTok?”

“Yeah.” George responded. Whitney persisted, “Why not in real life?” You furrowed your brows at this. George, oblivious to her, said “Should I stop?” as he pointed at himself jokingly.

“But you don’t talk in real life! I’m like “George…” Whitney said. She was then interrupted by the Sidemen walking in, smug smirks tugging on their face.

You and George smiled at the familiar faces, previously being in Sidemen videos in the past. You took notice that George’s mood had picked up more now he knew more than one person, becoming more comfortable in the odd place he was confined in.

JJ began for the group, “Welcome to the new series of Inside!”

The group whooped and cheered at this. Everyone was excited at the prospect of winning a million pounds.

The Sidemen began listing off the rules and concept of Inside, everyone nodding along and the occasional verbal reaction.

Harry pointed at you and the group, “You’ll be glad to know, the shop is now open!” You and Farah made eye-contact and started jumping up to run to the shop as a joke, the group laughing at the pair of you.

JJ said one last thing before everyone bid their goodbyes to the Sidemen, “Good luck, motherfuckers!”

You all clapped and half heartedly cheered, more nervous than excited at this rate because the money you could win was in the hands of everyone else.

Farah quickly asked as they were leaving, “Wait, can I ask? When is the first challenge?”

“Shut up.”

time skip!

The group all discussed that you wanted to keep the prize money at least 800K, agreeing with a ‘hands in the middle’ before you all jogged down to the shop.

As you entered, half the group were already in there and complaining about the lack of choices they could purchase, Milli however wasn’t upset about the prices at this point.

You and George lurked at the back, shoulder to shoulder and laughed at Mandi as she stood up to the camera asking about the whereabouts of her vodka.

As a quarter of the group decided on food and drinks as the first purchase before you butted in with a suggestion, “Wait, surely we should get some entertainment first, just so we don’t all want to die on the first day?”

George, Dylan and Milli pointed at you, nodding and verbalising their agreement. Milli grabbed your upper arm and took you both to the camera to confirm your order.

“I’ll say table tennis bat and you’ll say table tennis ball, right?” You asked her, she smiled as you both poked your head up to the camera and held your microphone to your mouth.

“Can I confirm the table tennis bat,” “And the table tennis ball, please?” You and Milli spoke, giggling at each other after as you made eye-contact.

You distanced yourself from the group and they began talking louder and speaking over each other, finding yourself settled next to George who had barely spoken outside of you since being in here.

Looking at the list of items, you nudged George, “What the fuck is a ‘golden straw’?” You laughed and furrowed your brows.

You saw his eyes scan the list and chuckle at the item considering its price, “That’s actually a stupid price.” He thought out loud.

“I swear if anyone buys that shit…” You closed your eyes and shook your head, sneaking your arms around him so you could link arms.

The door suddenly opened to reveal the items you and Milli had bought. She turned around and called your name to come over to her. You walked over and tugged George close along behind you.

You saw Milli’s shoulder drop and she leaned down to pick the item up, “What?” You questioned. She turned around and lifted up the one tennis bat.

“No!” You gasped and tightened your grip on George’s arm. “Is it one?” He asked, dreading the worst after your reaction.

“It’s one!” Milli confirmed your suspicions. You groaned, cursing out the Sidemen as everyone around out kept bickering. You watched as Dylan walked back to the camera.

“I’m confirming that you did scam us with that one, I’m not going to lie. So we are ordering one more bat.” He purchased the other bat.

You turned around to face George, smiling up at him as his figure towered over you. “I’m gonna kick your ass at table tennis.” You promised to him and yourself. Laughing at you, he drifted his hands down to rest on your hips, “Best out of three; guaranteed I’m gonna win all three.” He replied smuggly, looking down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Not bothering to listen to everyone talk about eating arrangements, you yanked George’s arm and the pair of you ran back to the living room, table tennis bats in hands and laughing in joy. Even in a confined house with 10 other people, you found George attached to you as if it was only the pair of you; no one else mattered except for him.

George walked around the table, shoving you lightly before the game started in an attempt to throw you off. You cleared your throat, “This is a practice round, no cheating and no foul play!”

“You’re only saying it’s a practice round so you’re not embarrassed when I kick your ass.” George winked at you and threw the table tennis ball down onto the table.

You heard a playful gag next to you, “Ew, guys stop flirting!” Cinna stated sarcastically. You and George only laughed and began playing against each other.

George played against you for a couple rounds, the game going back and forth a handful of times. Eventually, after a good 15 minutes, you beat George in a tight game. George only shrugged and walked backwards to sit on the couch, leaning his body back and relaxing for the first time since walking in here.

You tilted your head and called Dylan up to play against you, still high on adrenaline. “Dylan, come play the reigning champion!”

Hearing this, George’s head popped up with furrowed brows. “What? I thought you said it was a practice round?” He asked in mock offence.

You shrugged, “Yeah it was… until I beat you.” George suppressed a laugh into a groan and rolled his head back as you shot him a sickeningly sweet smile; knowing he had been caught out by you once again (not that he did anything to stop it).

interview room!

“I mean, I think I’ve started off decently. Barely spent money so far, but I haven’t been down there since I got the table tennis stuff.”

“I mean, I don’t really care about winning now that I’ve beaten George in table tennis! I’ve known him for years, played against him thousands of times and now suddenly hours into my new home for the week and straight off the bat I’ve already taken the win”

“My main concern right now is that I’m so hungry. And I know the meals are gonna be shit, but honestly, I could take anything right now!”

After gossiping about the whole pot noodle fiasco, an alert came up on the screen: ‘Lunch is now ready to collect from the shop’.

“Oh, thank God.” You groaned, feeling the effects of a constant rumbling stomach taking a toll on you. George, who was sitting opposite you looked puzzled and partially offended, “You’re taking the piss. Lunch?”

Leading the pack down to the shop, you skipped down to the final step and came face to face with an open trap door and met some… unpleasant food. Picking up two of the pots, you inspected the food.

George creeped in behind you and peered over your shoulder. Upon seeing his presence, you passed him his meal and stiffled a laugh at his scrunched up nose and face of disgust.

Grabbing a spoon, you opened the pot and attempted not to be put off it immediately. You watched Mandi verbally express her utter hatred towards the food; placing a hand on her shoulder, you urged her to try a bit before she opted out. “Hey, Mandi. Just try a little before--”

“Can I confirm an upgrade, please?” You sighed as she ignored you. Feeling awkward now, George wrapped his arm around its usual spot on your shoulder and tugged you against him, whispering in your ear not to worry about it; unbeknownst that the cameras can see and hear everything.

The pair of you walked away from the chaos of buying upgrades, chatting to each other and sitting back down onto the couch.

Cinna watched you and walked up to you, “Come with me to get the rest?” She urged, knowing many people had left scraps of food down in the shop and was aware of your hunger earlier on.

You smiled at her and left George’s touch, him frowning slightly. You followed side by side with Cinna, strutting into the shop and splitting the weight of the spare food between the two of you.

As you began walking away, you spotted something shiny left in the shop.

“No fucking way.” You murmered, now having personal issues with this goddamned straw. Cinna turned around at your words, eyes widening and walking over to pick up the straw.

“Is there a golden straw in there? Did they leave it?” She questioned no one in particular.

You threw the straw a rude face, “That shit cost fucking £2,500?” You shook your head, already having some suspects on who bought it.

Snatching the straw off her, you stormed ahead to the living room to ask some very needed questions; Cinna laughing at you as she trailed behind, finding your beef with the straw hilarious.

“Who bought this?” You spoke loudly as you entered the room, watching George on the beanbag throw his head back in mock frustration, murmuring some swear words in the wake.

Cinna walked in and made a bee-line for Mandi, “It was you, wasn’t it?” Mandi’s lack of an answer told you the whole story.

Passing the straw to Mandi, you felt a hand brush yourself and looked down to George playing with your fingers as he remained seated, his eyes watching the conversations rather than you. You suppressed a smile at this and tried to fight back a blush from creeping onto your face.

You were snapped out of your thoughts as the voice of Tobi rang around the house, “It’s time for your first challenge.”

time skip!

Finally, it was you and George remaining; neither of you had been selected to compete in Insider Dating (a part of you felt like they set you two up on purpose, but by no means were you complaining).

“And lastly… George? Y/N?” Simon smirked, holding his card close to his chest.

The group whooped and cheered as the pair of you stood up, even JJ was jeering you on. Tobi leaned in to whisper something in his ear, and JJ let out his gawking laugh in response. You groaned, fully aware it was something revolving between you and George.

George sat down opposite you, a worried grin painted on his face as you sucked in a deep breath, picking up the menu in front of you.

“For not the first restaurant date for these two,” Simon started, smirking as he watched both of your faces grow a shade darker and keeping your heads down low. Some of the other contestants let out a wolf-whistle and slammed the table as they laughed at Simon’s joke. “On the menu for you two is Shocking Questions.”

As you inspected the menu more, confused on what was happening, George had already figured it out. He looked at the Sidemen for confirmation and said, “Oh.” You looked up at him, hoping he wouldn’t see your blush. “What’s that?”

“We’ll be getting shocked.” He said with a lack of enthusiasm. You closed your eyes and sighed, nervous about both the questions and being shocked; but remaining determined that you wouldn’t press the red buzzer.

Simon started, “Okay, George. You’ll be answering the questions first, so, Y/N, please ask the first question.”

You took a deep breath, inspecting the question before looking up at George and asking him, “What is your worst online dating experience?”

Unsure when to start, George looked around him and then at the camera, “Okay, um…”

He placed his hands on the table in front of him, “I matched with somebody on--” He cut himself off as an electric jolt sent his body forwards as he groaned in pain. You covered your mouth in shock and offered a hand out on the table for him to grip onto for comfort.

Taking your hand very quickly he continued, “That’s a lot of power. Um. I matched with somebody on Hinge, and I was speaking to them for about two days. Voice notes back and forth, it was fun. And then--”

Another jolt came through and he squeezed your hand hard, cursing out in the meantime, “Oh, God! I’m sorry, Y/N!” You shook your head and reassured him, “No, no! Keep going, you’re doing great!” The contestants laughed at you as you attempted to comfort George as more jolts came through.

“Fucking hell. Um, then I tried to meet up with them, but it turns out they weren’t real. I was there for an hour and a half.” You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his story, focusing on him and keeping eye-contact with him to try and urge him through this. Also thinking at the same time, if his questions were bad, think of the masacre for you.

“I came back home, reverse Google Image searched them--” George’s body locking up in pain from the electric, “And they weren’t real. Fucking hell, that’s a lot!” He groaned, still squeezing your hand across the table.

Simon urged you to ask the next question, “Could we please have the second question?”

Your eyes widened at the question and George felt more jolts come through, “Oh, my God, please, can we make it a quick one?” He begged, playing with your fingers and cracking your knuckles as a way to distract himself from the pain. “Oh, my God. That was actually quite bad.”

You began starting the next question, interrupted by George burying his head into his bicep and groaning out, “Fuck!”

“If you had to snog, marry and avoid three Insiders, who and why?” You stared into his eyes as a faint pink sprinkled his cheeks; you couldn’t decipher whether that was out of pain or embarrassment of the question.

George pulled a shocked yet puzzled face, “I don’t fucking know!”

PK from the side shouted out, “Yes, you fucking do!” while pointing your way; you were unable to see this as your eyes were trained on George in front of you.

“Both genders?” George joked to try and diffuse the situation, making the Sidemen laugh as jolts of electricity came through more frequently and painfully.

George shook his head and gestured towards you, “Snog you, avoid Farah,” He turned around to face her and sent an apologetic look her way, “Sorry, you’re quite loud!” The rest of the group laughed as he turned back to you, “And marry Y/N!”

The group, including the Sidemen all screamed and pointed accusing fingers at George, while you sat with a mouth open and a surely bright red face by now. “You said Y/N twice!” Simon raised his brows and shouted at the man. “You can’t pick the same person twice!” JJ laughed.

George’s eyes widened as he realised what he did, “Shit! I meant marry Y/N, snog Y/N-- Shit!” He cursed as another jolt came through and stumbled over his words, “Fuck! No! Snog Mya!”

Everyone, including you laughed at him as Simon now approved the answer, and George’s grip on your hand faltered and he hid his face on the table, embarrassed beyond belief.

Some of the girls awed at his answer as the chaos had only just settled down, the focus turning on to you (as if it wasn’t already).

You rolled your head back in an attempt to release some nerves but failed to do so. You swallowed hard and looked in front of you to see George, now sat upright, staring at you with something in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher.

Looking down at the table, you saw George’s extended hand open for you, “Tit for tat?” He tilted his head, smiling at you as you accepted it, your palm brushing his. He took a deep breath as his heart jumped a little bit at the intimate moment shared in front of everyone and dozens of cameras.

Simon perked up again, “George, could you please ask the first question?”

George looked down at the question sheet, eyes widening at the second question in particular, but chose to tackle that situation when he got there.

“Y/N,” You were waiting for the first shock but it hasn't come yet, “Why did you break up with your last boyfriend?” George asked.

Your mouth dropped open in shock, “Oh, God. Alright, so basically--” You screamed as the first shock came through and your body jolted forward in a much similar fashion as George’s previously had. You gripped his hand hard, feeling bad that you could potentially be hurting him in the process.

“You’ve got it, you’ve got it.” George encouraged you, a soft smile etched across his face.

“Shit! Okay--” Another shock going up your spine, painful but quick, “He said I was in-- Fuck!” More and more shocks came through. You understood you would have to rush this answer because there was no way you could get through it at this rate.

“He said I was in love with someone else apparently, so he-- Shitting Hell!” You gripped George’s hand. “So he cheated on me and I snitched on him to his mother!” You blurted out, hearing the loud laughter from the contestants and the Sidemen around you, even George was trying and failing to suppress a laugh.

JJ’s laugh stood out from everyone elses, “Damn Y/N! We’ll take that. George, next question?”

George’s smile fell slightly, “Right, Y/N…” Your body jolted forward in pain, “Shit! George, I love you but please hurry up!” The group laughed at your reaction.

“Okay! Okay! Y/N explain the story of your first kiss.” His voice faltered towards the end, heart thumping in his chest as your face paled.

Your eyes widened and you shook your head rapidly, “No! No! I can’t say that!” Tobi butted in, “Answer or lose 10K!”

A horrendous jolt of electricity went through your body and your hand held George’s while the other bunched up the cloth of the table as you squeezed it.

“Tell us, Y/N!” You heard other contestants shout at you. Milli shouted, “Come on, Y/N! You can do it!”

You tossed your head back, “Fuck! Okay! So basically, we were younger and neither of us-- Shit!”

“Neither of us had had our first kiss yet, so we--” You groaned, head now falling forwards as your hair covered your face slightly. George leaned over and brushed it away, tucking it behind your ears.

“Push the button, Y/N!” JJ urged. “Fuck off!” You screamed back, some of the group crying with laughter and standing up in doing so.

“We played odds on that we had to kiss right then and there! That’s it! Please turn this fucking thing off!” You begged, feeling sweat drip from your forehead now.

However, Simon decided to alter the rules of the game.

“Y/N, we’re not accepting that until you tell us who it was with.”

Your eyes bulged out of their head as the screaming around you ensured, George falling unusually quiet compared to everyone else as his gaze remained locked on you.

“What the fuck? That’s not-- Oh, God!” You groaned, “That’s not fair!”

JJ and Tobi just laughed, “Just tell us!”

You shook your head rapidly, “No fucking way!”

“Say it!” They screamed.

“No!” You responded with the same energy.

“You’re not leaving until you tell--”

“George!”

Everyone around you jumped up in shock and amusement, smacking the table laughing and pointing fingers at you and George.

George’s mouth also dropped open in shock as he didn’t think you would actually admit to it, blush coating his neck and cheeks as everyone was looking at you two and that you had exposed your deepest secret.

Your body relaxed as the shocks stopped but you didn’t necessarily win; sure, not losing 10K is great, but now on day one of your new home, everyone would talk about you and George, definitely not helping your case that you’re not dating.

Simon removed his hand from covering his mouth in shock, “Well… I guess you passed.” He didn’t know what to say, no one did really; everyone was just screaming incoherent words in disbelief of this entire situation.

You had never wanted to hear the words of Tobi more in your entire life, “Insiders, you have completed your first challenge of the series.”

time skip!

After a long first day, you had settled yourself down onto the couch in the living room. Led down, you sported George’s hoodie as he found himself back at the table tennis court; this time battling against PK. Blocking everyone out, you drift off for your much needed nap.

As George played against PK, the new contestant DDG had some questions.

“I didn’t know the Sidemen let couples on here.” He thought out loud, catching everyone in the room's attention. They looked at him with tilted heads. “Who’s the couple?” Cinna asked.

DDG pointed a thumb in your direction as you laid unconscious on the couch, “That’s your girl, right?” He nodded towards George.

George chuckled and looked down, “Yeah, George. How’s your girl?” PK teased.

Shaking his head, George served the tennis ball nonchalantly, “She’s just my friend.” He didn’t know who he was trying to prove, himself or those around him.

Dylan butted in, “Oh yeah, I just kiss my best friends every now and then.”

Without looking at them, George continued, “Ah! I was her first kiss, that doesn’t mean we just kiss every now and then.”

“Bet you’d like that, huh?” PK laughed. In mock retaliation, George served a harsh ball his way, the mini group laughing at him.

DDG looked between you on the couch and George standing to his right, “Hold up… you’re not dating her?” George shook his head.

He raised his brows, “For real, man?”

George slowly nodded, “For real.” He sounded partially disappointed but masked it as he continued playing table tennis.

time skip!

You found yourself standing in the shop alone, inspecting the items as you were yet to purchase anything for yourself, excluding the singular tennis bat earlier. You heard someone creeping up behind you.

“What are you thinking about, beautiful?” George whispered from beind you, crouching down slightly so he could reach your height. You leaned back into him and his hands wrapped around your waist.

“Why the fuck do I want that jiggly ball so bad?” You thought out loud. George responded with a loud gawking laugh, stumbling back a bit and bringing you with him.

You turned around and slapped his chest, “No, George! It’s not funny! Why does every part of me need that jiggly ball?”

He looked down at you with a suggestive eyebrow raise, your face fell as you understood what he was insinuating. “Oh, shut up!”

Laughing, you held his hand and walked out of the shop together. You settled on the couch again after your nap, reintroducing yourself Patrice as the last time you saw him was when you were half-asleep.

A couple of minutes later, you heard your name being whispered at the door. Standing up, you followed the noise and was met with George suppressing a wild grin and something stuffed up his shirt. “Oh, God. What did you do?” You smiled.

George leaned down and dragged the pair of you into the corner of the room, “I might have suggested that Farah get something for you.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement.

“No, you didn’t…” You mumbled.

It was then that George whipped out the bright purple and blue jiggly ball from underneath his shirt, handing it to you and bouncing it between his hands in the process, giggling in excitement. “Oh, my God!” You squealed.

You took the ball from him and played with it for a moment before looking up to see George already staring at you. You shook your head, smiling at him, “Thank you!”

You pulled him into a crushing hug, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground, swaying the pair of you back and forth slightly. He placed you back down as you seperated from the hug, hands remaining on your waist as you stared at each other, not breaking eye-contact.

Neither of you said anything to each other, but your eyes said so much more. The hand that wasn’t holding the ball reached up to his face and urged him to tilt his head to the side, before you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Pulling away from your peck, you smiled at him and backed away slightly. You tossed the ball so it hit his forehead lightly and bounced back into your hands, “I’ll see you later.” You bit your lip to keep your smile from growing.

Walking away, you didn’t notice that George watched you as you went; a hand pressed up against his cheek where you had kissed him, only hoping it was closer to his lips.

As bedtime rolled around, you situated yourself in your bed next to George’s. You rested on the side facing him, finding him doing the same and could recognise his beaming smile even in the darkness.

You rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling as the tiredness took a toll on you. You let your hand flop off the side of your bed, not thinking too much of it.

Then, you felt a soft brush against your hand and looked down at it, seeing George’s hand lacing his fingers with yours as his hand was stretched off his own bed. Leaning off the side of his bed, George pressed a soft kiss onto the back of your hand, signaling a sweet ‘goodnight’ to you before the pair of you dozed off.

Maybe this weird, confined lifestyle where everything was overpriced and challenges determined your mood for that day wasn’t too bad. But maybe, it was rather the person holding your hand that could help you tolerate this.

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hischiershoe · 9 days ago

Text

─── FLICKER AND FLAME

─── QUINN HUGHES X FEM!READER

[ summary ] A flicker of a school girl crush turned into a much bigger flame than you had ever anticipated, but you always kept it to yourself because you’d been far too scared to get burned. Until this summer. This summer you were determined to let it shine bright, but what happens when it’s blown out by the one person you kept it alive for?

[ word count ] 6.4k

[ content warnings ] angst but w a happy ending, Quinn’s a bit of a jackass, cursing, drinking mentioned, Jack yelling, kissing with some very slight heavy petting but nothing too wild

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 has always been your favorite time of the year, but not for the same reasons that most other people enjoy the warm, sunny season. It wasn’t because you were free from school, or because you got to spend your days doing nothing but lounging around and basking in the sun. It was because it was the one time of the year that you finally got to see the one person that was always on your mind. Quinn. Well, and a little bit of the other stuff, too.

You’d known the Hughes family ever since your younger brother joined the same club hockey team as their youngest, Luke, and they’d been a part of your life ever since. Their parents and yours clicked almost instantly, and what started out as simple invitations to barbecues and post-game dinners quickly shifted into residing in the same lake house for the duration of the summer and various other joint vacations. The Hughes family became a prominent fixture in your life, and yours became one in theirs.

When Quinn moved to Michigan for hockey, you realized that what you thought was a small and meaningless crush was much bigger than you had even imagined. You had grown so used to seeing him several times a month, where you could quietly observe him as he corralled the three younger boys, that you never realized it was something you’d looked forward to. It was a little creepy when you thought about it, but, in your defense, you were just a girl with a tiny crush on an older boy. However, when he was a few hundred miles away, the reality that it wasn't so tiny after all hit you like a freight train. Though, of course, you never let anyone find out about it.

Especially because you knew he would never feel the same.

Despite that minor detail, it still never deflated the excitement that swelled in your chest when you were finally on your way to Michigan for the summer. Every time you and your brother would pack up your things, load up on a plane, and head down to the lakehouse, it was like everything was falling back into place all over again. While there had been a few changes over the years, notably the lack of parental presence and lakehouse ownership, the one thing that never changed was the thrill and anticipation that poured out of everyone who crossed the threshold.

You weren’t entirely sure what had gotten into you this summer, or where the sudden confidence boost came from, but you were far more brazen and bold-faced when it came to Quinn. Okay, maybe not that much more, but you were actively making attempts to drop subtle hints that you found him attractive or going out of your way to talk to him. However, it wasn’t necessarily going in your favor as he would awkwardly mumble his responses or deflect your comments and shift the conversation to else. His callousness towards you was slowly chipping away at your enthusiasm, eating away at it until there was almost nothing left.

Of course, you knew that Quinn even remotely returning your sentiments towards him was almost as likely as him letting Jace drive the golf cart again, but deep down, you’d hoped. Hoped that he would’ve at least done more than treat you more than an inconvenience. He’d never been so apathetic towards you in the summers before, but then again, you’d always kept your distance when it came to him. You’d always been intimidated by him, afraid that you would say the wrong thing or do something embarrassing that you could never come back from, and you’re beginning to think you should’ve kept that tradition going. After all, it’d kept you safe from the sinking feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t shake now.

However, there was one instance that was constantly on your mind and left you more confused than anything.

You had been lying out by the pool, eyes closed as the sun beat down on your glistening ski, when you heard the unmistakable sounds of laughter and playful bickering. You hadn’t bothered to look up to see who it was, assuming that it was just the usual group of rowdy boys, but you did get a little curious when you heard their voices come to an abrupt stop. You had propped yourself up on your elbows and scanned the backyard before you let your gaze fall on them, and what you saw made your jaw go slack and your eyes widen.

The boys you had never seen before were not so subtly staring at you, and Quinn’s face was twisted in anger, an emotion that you rarely ever saw on his face, and Jack had to physically pull him away from the rest of them. You watched them with careful, curious eyes, but when Jace had finally glanced in your direction, all he did was shrug in response. Eventually, you decided that it wasn’t all that important and you relaxed into the lounger all over again, but then you heard a faint comment pass through the lips of a boy you’d never seen before.

“All I said was that Jace’s sister was hot.”

It was your brother’s idea to have a small get together at the house, and the others were quick to hop on board before going into full on planning mode. You offered to go to the liquor store with Quinn, but he was quick to point out that at least one responsible person needed to go to the grocery store with Luke and Jace. If they were sent by themselves, they’d grab one bag of chips, a tub of ice cream, and a box of Costco muffins for themselves. You knew he was right, everyone did, and that was how you begrudgingly ended up hauling the two of them into town.

“So,” Luke drawls out as he leans on the center console, “You really wanted to go with Quinn, huh?”

“She was almost ready to give up having actual food just to go with him,” Jace cheekily added, nudging his friend as they both looked at you with mischievous smiles.

“I just wanted to make sure he got my favorite drink,” You shrug as you slightly tighten your grip on the wheel, trying to keep your voice steady and nonchalant.

Yeah, okay,” Luke snorts before he leans back into his seat, “He’s forgotten everyone’s drinks a dozen times, but he’s never forgotten yours. Not once. He even makes sure he gets it before you two get here.”

Luke’s words echo in your head for the duration of your food run, taking up so much space in your mind that you nearly forget to check the basket of food the boys had loaded up. You couldn’t help but let the new bit of information fan the small flame of hope you had left, and you left the store with a certain skip to your step that made both Luke and Jace roll their eyes.

With testosterone filled hockey players, girlfriends, and anyone that everyone had befriended over the years scattered throughout the house, the quiet party was in full swing. You were tucked in the corner of the sofa with Alyssa and Izzy, a cup of your favorite drink in your hand as the three of you caught up with each other. Your focus kept drifting to Quinn as he stood in the kitchen talking with Josh and a few other people you vaguely recognized, and you caught yourself admiring him for far longer than what would be considered normal.

Though you were a little happy to see that he was seemingly brushing off any girl who tried to talk to him.

It was Trevor’s suggestion to gather around the small fire pit outside, and if there was one thing he was going to do, it was get his way. As everyone filed out of the house, you lingered in the kitchen for a few more minutes so that you could grab yourself another drink, but you quickly grew to regret that choice when you stepped through the door. All of the seats had been taken, no one daring to sit on the ground that was still slightly wet from the rain the previous evening, and you were standing there nervously gripping the cup as your eyes shifted from person to person.

“Why don’t you just sit on Quinn’s lap or something,” Cole innocently suggested, the girl he’d met at the golf course perched on his knee.

“No,” Quinn hastily blurts before anyone else can even get a simple thought in, “That’s weird and a stupid idea.”

Your eyes immediately widen, your face heating up in embarrassment as you freeze in your spot. You can feel everyone’s gazes flickering between you and Quinn, watching as horrified tears well in your eyes, and he looks everywhere but at you. Though you can’t bring yourself to look away from him. You force yourself to watch as he shrinks into his seat, as he grips the beer bottle in his hand so tightly that you’re surprised it hasn’t shattered. You force yourself to watch how disgusted he is at the mere idea of you getting that close to him. You force yourself to feel the small flame of hope you had left be blown out by the very person you kept it alive for.

An uncomfortable silence sticks itself to everyone, their gazes still darting between you and Quinn as they wait for someone to say something. For someone to pop the thick bubble of tension that had formed around you, but no one knew what to say. No one knew what to do.

“I’m sorry,” Cole speaks up first, regret laced in his tone as he focuses on you, “It was just a joke. We can go grab the beanbag from upstairs for someone to sit on, so you can have a chair.”

Your eyes shone with unshed tears as you took a deep and shaky breath, finally forcing your gaze away from Quinn, “Don’t worry about it. I kind of wanted to go lie down, anyway. I’m tired.”

Without a second thought, you were turning on your heels and darting back into the house, hastily discarding your full cup on the kitchen counter as you ignored the few pleading shouts of your name. Your lungs feel like they’re burning, every breath you take acting as fuel to the ever growing fire in your chest, and you need to get away before you let yourself get burned entirely.

As soon as you step into your room, you fling the door shut behind you before practically launching yourself onto your bed, burying your face in the mountain of pillows to muffle the mortified sobs that tore through you. Truthfully, you knew that what happened downstairs might not have seemed like a big deal to most, but to you? To you, it felt like Quinn had stood in front of an arena full of people and told them that he would never see you as anything other than Jace’s sister.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Jack’s yell filters up to your room, the anger in his voice bringing your cries to a temporary stop.

Your head perks up, and though you can’t hear who exactly is on the receiving end of Jack’s outburst, you make the obvious assumption that it’s Quinn. Whatever he said in response is too quiet for you to pick up on, but you can still hear Jack clear as day. “Do you get it? Because what you told me yesterday and what you just did isn’t adding up! Quinn, where are you going?!”

His voice is cut off by the front door slamming, and your eyes widen as you try to listen in case anything else was said, but the sound of the metal hinges slowly creaking open breaks your concentration.

“Hey,” Jace peeks his head through the small crack in the door, his face illuminated by the small lamp on your dresser that you had left on earlier that day, “Mind if we come in?”

“Sure,” You weakly mumble, wiping at your cheeks as you sit up on your bed and move so your legs are dangling over the edge.

He pushes the door open the rest of the way, Luke trailing behind him as they quickly rush to you and take the spot on either side of you. For a while, none of you say anything, likely all still trying to process everything that had happened. You don’t expect Luke to be the first to speak up, both because Quinn was his brother and because he’d never been all that great at comforting people anyway. Jace, despite the three year age difference, was always in your corner trying to help when he could, but you had a feeling that even he was at a loss for words right now.

“Quinn didn’t drive anywhere, did he,” You finally ask, shattering the wall of silence that had been built around you, “I know he drank a little bit tonight.”

“No. Trevor came in before them and hid everyone’s keys,” Jace’s voice was clipped, and it was then that your eyes fell to his hands that were balled into fists at his side. He was angry. No, he was livid, and it made a pit of guilt form in your stomach. You ruined his party because you let a stupid boy get to you.

“Good,” You swallow, your gaze flickering to Luke, who had a look that resembled confliction on his face with his gaze fixated on the ground beneath his feet, “That’s good.”

“Are you good,” Luke asks, his voice nearly startling you as he slightly shifts towards you, “I mean, are you okay? I don’t really know what happened down there because it all happened really fast and I’m a little drunk, but you looked sad.”

“Yeah, Luke,” You lightly laugh as you nudge him with your shoulder, “I’m okay. Just a little upset is all, but maybe this is what I needed, you know? I’ve spent almost the entire time I’ve been here trying to get his attention, but obviously it was pointless. This is just the shock to my system I needed to move on.”

“We can go back home early if you want,” Jace softly adds on, though you can tell he doesn’t really want that, “We can pack up and go back. I can work on my breakaways and stuff with coach, and you can help me pick out stuff for my new apartment before you start your new job.”

“No. We’re not leaving,” You firmly shake your head, the sigh of relief he lets out making a small smile form on your face, “I don’t want to leave. I’ll be okay, I promise. You guys should go back outside though, liven up the party a bit.”

“Are you sure,” Jace asks, his voice tinged with hope, and his shoulders relaxing.

“I’m sure,” You teasingly roll your eyes, placing your palms in the middle of their backs before you gently shove them off your bed, “Go back out there and have fun. I’m going to try and sleep this whole thing off.”

It didn’t take much more convincing in order to get them to leave, but as soon as you were alone in your room again, you crawled under your blanket and let silent tears slide down your cheeks until you succumbed to your own emotional exhaustion.

You weren’t entirely sure how long you had been asleep, but judging by how dark it was outside and how quiet the house was, you knew it was well into the middle of the night. You could hear Luke’s faint snores, something he only did when he had drank far too much, coming from the room next to you, and if he was asleep, it was safe to assume everyone else was, too. He’d always put up a fight to be the last person awake, not wanting to miss out on any potential action, and he would never even consider touching his bed until he knew everyone was done for the night.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you carefully slipped out of bed and tiptoed down to the kitchen, making sure to avoid the especially creaky parts of the stairs. The lack of bodies spread across the living room told you that a few of the others had either found ways home, or they walked the short trip down to Cole’s and stayed there for the night. Regardless, you were grateful for the emptiness because you didn’t have to worry about waking even more people when you searched the kitchen for something non-alcoholic to drink.

The water pitcher was shoved to the back of the fridge, nearly invisible behind the mostly empty boxes of beer and half-eaten take out containers. Your gaze catches sight of your cup from earlier still sitting on the counter, and it felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs all over again. You were barely conscious enough to remember what had happened when you first got up, but the cup served as a glaring reminder of Quinn’s blatant rejection from earlier.

The blood was pounding so loudly in your ears that you didn’t hear the sound of the front door opening as you rounded the kitchen island, and you were far too focused on frantically throwing the cup in the sink that you missed the echo of footsteps nearing you. Some of the liquid had sloshed all over the countertop, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about it that much. You knew it would get cleaned up tomorrow when everyone was forced into the usual hangover fueled cleaning.

You heard someone softly calling your name, forcing your focus in the direction that it had come from, and you came face to face with the one person you didn’t want to see. Quinn hovered a few feet away from you, his hair a wild mess on his head and his cheeks tinged a light pink from what you’re assuming is either the alcohol still in his system or from the wind biting at his skin. You watched as his eyes darted across your face, no doubt noticing how swollen your eyes were from crying, and you let your gaze fall to the floor as you crossed your arms against your chest, subtly shuffling away from him.

“Uh, what are you doing awake,” Quinn’s asks, his tone painfully awkward and strained as he brings his hand up to anxiously rub at the back of his neck.

“I just woke up to get some water,” You weakly admit, uncomfortably rocking on the balls of your feet, “Are you just getting back?”

“Yeah,” He clears his throat, “I walked down towards the marina and stayed there for a while.”

You don’t say anything in response, letting the silence prick at your skin as you chew on your bottom lip. You stood there for a few moments, debating on whether or not you wanted to try and talk to Quinn about what had happened, but you ultimately fought off the urge and silently turned on your feet. You had already been embarrassed enough for one night; The last thing you needed was for him to downright reject you to your face, so you chose to walk away.

Although Quinn desperately calls out your name, quickly closing the gap between you before he delicately grabs your bicep and keeps you in your spot. In all of the years you’d known Quinn, it was rare that the two of you ever got this close, and when you did, it made your head spin and goosebumps rise on your arms and legs. This was no exception. Your breath was caught in your throat as you slowly dragged your eyes to Quinn’s face, meeting his pleading and guilty stare.

“Please, wait,” He shakily begs, letting go of your arm when you slowly nod your head in response.

The air around you was so thick with tension that it was almost suffocating. You could barely breathe around him as it is, but now it felt like you were going to pass out. This time, you don’t move away from Quinn, choosing to stay inches away from him as he takes a sharp breath.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” He begins as he runs a hand through his hair, though he keeps his eyes on you, “I was an asshole, and I put you in a terrible spot in front of everyone.”

“It’s okay, Quinn,” You softly reassure, a sad smile tugging at your lips, “I’ll get over it. Besides, I think it was what I needed, you know? I’m sure you’ve noticed I’ve been trying to get your attention all summer, but obviously that was never going to go anywhere, so this was good for me. I’ll take the hint and leave you alone.”

“No,” Quinn hastily rushes out, the word tumbling out of his mouth so fast that it visibly shocks you, “I don’t want that. I don’t want you to leave me alone.”

His voice trails off as his eyes search your face, trying to pick up on what was going through your mind, but all he found was a combination of disbelief, and distrust. He can’t blame you for not believing what he said, of course. After all, he had done everything but give you any sort of idea that your feelings for him were returned in any capacity.

“What do you mean,” You choke out as frustrated tears swim in your eyes. You were confused, and you could feel the snuffed out flame of hope attempting to relight itself, but you weren’t going to let it. You couldn’t.

“I know that the way I’ve been acting this summer sucks,” He acknowledges, swallowing thickly, “I know I haven’t been the best at showing how I feel, but I do like you. A lot. I just– I don’t want you to give up on me. I want to try with you the same way you’ve been trying with me.”

Your entire body freezes, a million thoughts running through your brain at a speed that makes your head hurt. It didn’t make any sense. No matter how badly you wanted it to be true, to let yourself believe that he actually meant what you said, it just didn’t add up. What if he was only saying that because he felt like he had to? Because he felt bad?

“That isn’t fair, Quinn,” Your voice wobbles as you shake your head and step away from him, “You don’t get to brush me off all summer, embarrass me in front of our friends, and then tell me that you like me. That doesn’t make any sense!”

“I know,” He surges, his voice breaking when he watches you put even more distance between the two of you, “I know it doesn’t, but I promise I will prove it to you. I’ll spend the rest of the summer and however long after that showing you that I mean it. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

The next day, or later in the day if you wanted to be technical, Quinn was adamant on following up on his promise to you. He was going out of his way to talk to you, to do things for you and only you, and he even made a point to talk to Jace about how he had been making you feel. When you saw your brother later on, you tried to ask him about it, but all he did was shrug in response and mumble something that you couldn’t hear. The only idea you had that he had even slightly forgiven Quinn came from watching the two of them get the small bonfire going, which was something Jace rarely ever let anyone help him do.

At first, Quinn’s attempts made you a little uneasy because the change was so drastic from how everything had been doing, but as the day went on, you slowly warmed up to it. He was slowly axing away at the wall of doubt you’d built, and you began to let yourself entertain the idea that maybe he wasn’t messing with you after all. It also helped that during a small talk with Ellen after dinner, she had let a few things ‘slip’ about her eldest son’s feelings for you. Though, you couldn’t help but think her two younger boys had something to do with that based on the interrogation you received from them afterwards.

Before you had gone to bed that night, you called your mom on the phone and asked her opinion on what you should do. At first, you tried to avoid saying any names, choosing to say ‘a boy’ instead, but she was quick to cut you off and tell you that she knew you were talking about Quinn. She’d known about your crush on him since the day the two of you met. After you had broken down everything as best as you could, she told you that if your heart was truly telling you to give it a shot, then you should listen to it. She reminded you that allowing yourself the effort was much better than denying yourself the opportunity.

When you woke up the following morning, you didn’t have much time to focus on figuring out what you wanted to do because the boys immediately dragged you into town to grab food and more drinks for their self-declared pool day. Luke had a few of his college friends over for the weekend, which meant that the SUV you borrowed was packed full of rowdy boys, and there wasn’t a quiet moment the entire time. You barely had time to think about what you needed to grab, let alone about the internal battle you had going on.

“Who’s supposed to grill these stupid hotdogs,” You shouted over the various voices filling the space around you, waving the aforementioned package of hotdogs in the air.

“Quinn! He’s outside heating the grill up right now,” You heard Luke shout before he darted upstairs to change into his trunks.

You contemplated asking one of the others to take them out to Quinn, but, with your mom's advice ringing in your ears, you ultimately decided to do it yourself. You grabbed one of the larger baking sheets from the cabinet and used it to carry everything outside, where you saw Quinn sitting in one of the chairs near the grill. He doesn’t hear you coming, and you don’t announce yourself either.

Partly because you were nervous, and partly because you wanted to see if his promise was as ironclad as he made it seem.

Quinn felt someone brush past him, and he had to do a double take when he saw that it was you who had slipped by. He was almost instantly rushing to his feet, the chair scraping against the concrete and his phone clattering on the table, discarded and forgotten now that you were near him. He watched as you placed the tray on the unlit side burner before taking a bashful peek over your shoulder.

“Luke said you were responsible for these,” You speak first, turning your body completely towards him.

“Seems like I always am,” He lightly jokes, his focus shifting from your face to your hands that were nervously picking at the threads on your shorts. It was a habit you’d had for as long as he could remember.

“Yeah, I bet,” The corners of your mouth tug into a small smile, “Personally, I prefer your cooking over everyone else’s. Seems like you’re the only one who knows how to make things the way I like.”

Quinn’s face flushes at your subtle compliment, but he can’t help but let a sense of pride swell in his chest. Sure, a few summers ago he might have asked your dad to show him how to cook just for you, but it was the fact that you preferred his that really made him feel accomplished. It felt like it was the first thing he had actually gotten right with you.

“I do my best,” He finally gets out through a shaky breath.

“I think you’re great,” You affirm, placing a delicate hand on his bicep before you slip away and back into the house again before you overthink your fleeting touch a little too much.

Heat crawled up your neck and licked at your cheeks as you made a beeline for your room, nearly trampling Jace and Dylan when they filtered down the stairs with towels slung over their shoulders. You could hear your brother's loud shouts of mock displeasure, but you don’t pay him any mind as you burst through your room and let the door slam shut behind you.

You felt silly, almost childish, letting a touch that you initiated affect you so deeply that it made your heart race in your chest and the skin of your palm tingle. You leaned against the wall for a few moments, trying to gather your thoughts enough so you were able to form some sort of plan to let Quinn know that you believed him. That you wanted to try and see how things with him could go.

Sure, you could outright tell him, but where’s the fun in that?

After a quick phone call to your best friend back home, you were slipping into the bathing suit she slightly coerced you into choosing and applying a very light layer of waterproof mascara to your eyes. While neither of those things were necessarily out of the ordinary from your usual routine, this time you were going downstairs with the knowledge that your effort was going to be noticed. This time, it wasn’t for nothing.

Quinn noticed the shift in your attitude the second you walked outside. Unlike yesterday, you returned the smile he tossed your way with one of your own, with the smile he’d seen on your face a dozen times before. Instead of avoiding his gaze when you grabbed your food, you hovered near him and talked to him about whatever came to mind until everyone had gotten theirs. When everyone decided to sit at the table before getting back into the pool, you made sure you got the seat next to him rather than forcing Jace to make space for you.

It was giving Quinn hope that maybe he hadn’t truly fucked things up as badly as he thought, and he was going to cling to that as long as he possibly could.

“I’m gonna go grab something to drink,” You mumble to no one in particular before you rise to your feet, knowing that almost none of them were paying attention anyway

You pull the door open and step into the cool air of the house, the sudden change in temperature causing goosebumps to litter your skin as your feet pad across the tile. Laughter and shouts from the others outside still find their way into the kitchen, and it makes a small smile form on your face when you’re tugging at the fridge door. It always made you happy; Seeing and hearing how much everyone was enjoying themselves. That was what summer was all about.

“Okay, I got it,” You heard Quinn yell from behind you, the sound of the door shutting following directly after.

You turn on your heels to face him, the notion of getting another drink long forgotten when you saw him standing there in nothing but his swimming trunks. You’d seen Quinn shirtless far too many times to count, but it never ceased to make heat rush to your cheeks and your heart thud in your chest. Little did you know, you had the same, if not worse, kind of effect on him.

Quinn has a hard time keeping his eyes on your face, the urge to let them wander to your chest and fixate on what your bathing suit barely covers becoming so strong that it was almost painful to hold back. He only lets his gaze linger for a few moments before he forces himself to move, to walk towards you in search of the excuse he used to come inside after you.

You watch as Quinn rounds the kitchen island, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you inwardly weigh your options. Should you wait and say something to Quinn later? Wait until you had time to think about what you want to say so you don’t embarrass yourself, or should you just do it now? Ultimately, you knew your time at the lakehouse was fast approaching, and if you wanted to test the waters with him, you needed to act fast.

After all, there’s no better time than the present, or whatever they say.

“Hey Quinn,” You softly call out as he pulls two Gatorades from the shelf.

He lets the fridge door fall shut behind him, his focus shifting back towards you where he lets his eyes drift too far south for a fleeting moment before he shamefully meets your eyes, hoping you didn’t notice. When he saw the subtle quirk of your brow, he knew he had been caught, but you don’t say anything about his wandering gaze.

“What’s up,” He nervously clears his throat, lazily tossing the bottles on the counter before giving you his full attention.

“So, you know Jace and I leave in like two weeks, right,” You anxiously begin, your throat growing dry and your eyes darting around the kitchen, “Well, if we’re supposed to, like, test the water or whatever, we should probably start now. Don’t you think?”

Time freezes around you, your gaze flickering back up to Quinn to watch the gears turn behind his eyes. You watch as his jaw goes slack and he slowly blinks, but the longer he stays silent, the more you want the world to swallow you whole. All of your doubts and insecurities began to bubble to the surface, and suddenly, the idea of going home early started to sound like a great idea.

“Or not,” You hastily rush out as embarrassment crawls up your spine and you step away from him, “That’s totally cool, too. I just thought–”

“I do,” His voice smothers your own, a certain urgency to his tone that forces your movements to come to a halt, “I do, I swear. I just– I can’t think because I really want to kiss you right now.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief before you find the confidence to let out a breathy, “Why don’t you then?”

In one smooth motion, Quinn is stepping towards you and tugging you into his chest by your waist, slamming his lips on yours in a kiss that nearly sends you toppling over. Luckily, his grip on you was tight enough to keep you steady, and he uses it to maneuver you so you’re pressed against the island. Your arms loop behind his neck to pull him closer, your mouths moving together in almost perfect sync in a way that made that stupid flicker of hope burst into flames and light your entire body on fire.

You can feel his hands slide down to cup the backs of your thighs, and he effortlessly lifts your body so you can feel the cool granite on your skin. His rough, calloused hands are exploring the dips and curves of your body, his touch leaving your skin hot and aching for more. With your legs wrapped around his waist, you pull Quinn even closer to you, and your fingernails leave crescent shaped divots on his shoulder blades when you slip your tongue into his mouth.

A low groan vibrates against your mouth, and Quinn’s thumb slips underneath the string of your top, his thumb delicately brushing the side of your chest. A shiver runs down your spine, and you subconsciously roll your hips against his. You can feel the effect you had on him pressed against the inside of your thigh, and it was doing wonders for your ego. Giving you the kind of motivation you needed to shove your nerves to the back of your mind.

“Dude, what is taking you so lo– Oh my god,” Jack’s voice breaks off into a horrified yell when his eyes settle on the scene before him, “Dude! We eat at that counter, what is wrong with you?!”

You and Quinn separate from each other, lips red and swollen as your necks snap towards Jack before he was turning on his heels and dashing back outside. The door slams shut when he darts back outside, the echo meshing with the sounds of your heavy breathing and Quinn’s quiet mumbles of annoyance. The pads of his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he lets his forehead fall to your shoulder, and you can’t help but a string of giggles escape through your lips.

“At least it was your brother and not mine,” You lightly tease.

“Yeah, well, Jack’s a good storyteller,” Quinn grumbles, “I’m sure he’ll give everyone a good enough image that they’ll feel like they were here.”

When the two of you recollect yourselves enough to head back outside, the looks that were being thrown in your direction confirmed that Jack had, in fact, done a good job at recounting his unfortunate interruption. Jace was staring at you with a look of utter repulsion, but you nonchalantly shrug your shoulders at him and let Quinn gently yank you into his lap. After the general round of teasing comments and hollers went around the backyard, everyone went back to normal and acted as if nothing had changed.

Not you, though.

For you, everything had changed in the best way possible, and you were determined to figure out if things between you and Quinn could blossom into something more. Into something that made all those years of pining and dreaming worth it.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #abby writes 💻

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deercreekflorida · 2 years ago

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Improve Your Driver Distance in Golf

Improving your driver distance in golf can have a significant impact on your overall game. Here are a few tips to help you achieve greater distance off the tee:

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#golf #Golfing #Golfing Tips #Golf Tips #golf course #best golf course #golf training

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ectocreature · 7 months ago

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something I find interesting is that Jack is called an incompetent ghost hunter because of his aim, but when we see him go into physical hand-to-hand and abandon anything that requires aiming, he's really good at it.

Million Dollar Ghost is where Jack really gets to shine. He absolutely kicks Vlad's ass, and Vlad is an extremely powerful ghost.

Vlad is powerful enough that he gives Danny a massive run for his money, and Danny is an extremely powerful ghost. In Kindred Spirits he fucking vaporizes part of a golf course.

Jack, meanwhile, is throwing Vlad around like it's nothing.

Not to mention how, in Masters of All Time, Danny is able to "fight" his father's alternate half ghost self relatively unscathed until Jack starts using fists instead.

His aim is to be expected, but he throws Danny through the floor into the basement lab, a basement lab which is likely reinforced.

He then punches Danny so hard he launches him through the basement ceiling again and the other two floors of the house.

Granted, Danny is very much not fighting back at all, but he straight up got launched, to the point where he slams into a billboard with what seems to be very little lost velocity.

This is around the midpoint of season 2. The last time Danny got thrown around like this by some random ghost that wasn't Vlad (not counting Pariah Dark) (that I can recall on short notice w/out the opportunity to rewatch every episode) was in season 1. Even though this is with ghost powers of some kind, I highly doubt Jack was training himself the way Vlad must have been. To be that strong without honing the abilities at all? Jack is terrifying.

It makes me wonder how much of a force of nature he would have been if the Ecto-Skeleton had worked out. We see him kick the shit out of the Fright Knight with just the pants, imagine him in the full armor!

#danny phantom #jack fenton

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theminecraftbee · 23 days ago

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The problem, Grian thinks as he forelornly fills out paperwork, is that the Higher Ups have gone with a punishment that any reasonable person would find excessive and terrifying.

A rookie mistake. It doesn't help that they'd decided Cub would be the middle manager in charge of Hermitcraft, Grian thinks. Cub, of course, loves the excessive and terrifying, but he also loves the retribution of the excessive and terrifying. Grian has known this since he met Cub and visited the man's golf course. Sure, before then Concorp's truly terrifying business dominance had suggested a powerful man, but it had been the golf course that made Grian realize he was also excessive and terrifying.

(The pyramid did not change this impression. Nor did his red sand biome. Nor did Total Chaos. Nor did—well, Grian doesn't feel like he has to list them at this point.)

Scar as a voice of reason had been right out. The problem with Scar is that he doesn't know how to be reasonable. He acts like he does. In some regards, he fakes it better than Grian does. It's his face, Grian thinks. It's attractive and difficult to say no to. It's the kind of face that makes people keep assuming HotGuy was ever actually a superhero and not just an excuse to hunt people through the server with murderous intent while posing for shirtless pictures.

Scar is... a little less of the type of excessive and terrifying exile is, if it weren't for the hunting for sport bit.

So he'd been no backup as Grian, reluctantly, did his duty as an employee and tried to speak up to explain the roadblocks with the plan. The problem was that any reasonable person, he tried to explain, would both never want to be in exile and never be able to escape. The problem, he tried, is that exile isn't even all that related to permits in the first place; it will seem like an excuse to exercise outsized and overbearing authority over the other hermits.

He'd hoped Skizz would agree. He's the new guy. New guys normally agree.

Skizz had said it sounded like fun. They'd get someone to teleport everyone back after they were sad enough.

Grian threw his hands up then (although only after he'd turned off his camera; he thinks the Higher Ups can see even after he flips the plastic lid down, but he'd like to at least pretend he's being professional on their Teams calls by claiming he's had sudden, impossible-to-overcome internet problems). He doesn't care enough to explain the problem to the Higher Ups.

The problem, he thinks, is this:

Exile is a terrifying punishment to any reasonable person.

Unfortunately, Grian does not think he knows any reasonable people.

He squints at the tiny lettering on the form the Higher Ups have given him to fill out about unauthorized nether travel while simultaneously trying to explain how their highly-trained team of people skilled in being truly batshit insane have failed to hold down a single puppet.

It's not that he didn't try to warn them. He doesn't understand why this has to be his problem.

He ignores the niggling voice in his head reminding him that he'd made most of this up and was not reasonable himself. That, in fact, making up an organizational job he hates entirely for his own amusement is not what anyone would call 'reasonable' at any time of day. That doesn't matter now. What matters now is how much he doesn't want to be doing his job.

They'd better crush this exile thing quick.

...that, or it's time to resign himself to the paperwork. Maybe he should just get a new office chair instead.

#hermitcraft #grian #a bee fic #hermitfic #my continued trend of 'exile fics about how silly the concept is on hermitcraft' continues on #i AM going to make a more direct companion piece about the kind of insane joe is later

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sunsetmade · 3 days ago

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The Greenery

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Your the new cart girl in the country club and a certain Kook takes an interest in you.

“—you’ll be out on the course, rolling by in the cart, asking if they want drinks or snacks—only after they’ve taken their swing, of course. Just looking after the golfers, making sure they’re good. Makes sense?” Her words tumbled out as easy as the wind off the dunes.

I just blinked at her, the early morning sun catching her sunglasses while my nerves twisted in my stomach. I gave a quick nod, even though my mind was still trying to catch up and understand all the instructions she just gave me.

“Alright, perfect! Your cart’s just over here—good luck out there!” she said with a kind of chipper energy that felt straight out of a preschool classroom. I stood frozen on the sun-warmed sidewalk, watching her disappear like sea foam back into the clubhouse.

Wait—which cart was mine?

Did she even say?

A wave of quiet panic rolled in as I scanned the line of identical golf carts, each one baking gently under the Carolina sun. I let out a slow sigh and headed toward them, hoping one would somehow just feel right.

I peeked into the first beige cart, trying to spot anything that screamed claimed—a water bottle, a towel, maybe a rogue granola bar. Nothing. Just a cup holder and the faint smell of sunscreen. I shrugged. Hopefully this wasn’t someone’s pride and joy. If it was, well… I’d apologize later.

I slid my light blue bag under the seat and took a short walk around the cart. The drinks and snacks had just been restocked—coolers full, chips lined up. Everything looked ready for the day. I made a quick mental note of what was where, then went back up front and sat down.

It was quiet, just the sound of the breeze and a few birds in the distance. I checked my watch—10:00. There had to be golfers out on the course already, maybe even finishing up their front nine.

Okay, first day. You’ve got this, I told myself as I started the cart. I eased forward, trying to follow the path that looked the most familiar. The woman who trained me yesterday had pointed out the best routes—ones that usually led to better tips. I kept that in mind and turned off onto the grass, hoping I was going the right way. Up ahead, I saw a few golfers. Time to start.

I cruised up slow, tires crunching over the sandy path near the green, squinting toward the three guys teeing off. I waited until they swung, clubs slicing the humid air, then eased the cart closer. “Hey, y’all want anything this morning?” I asked, chewing the inside of my cheek, trying to sound chill.

The first guy looked up, hand raised to block the Carolina sun. “Uh, yeah, I’ll take a beer. Kelce, you want one? Rafe?”

The other guy—Kelce, I guessed—shook his head, already gripping his driver like he had somewhere better to be.

But the third guy just looked at me—really looked at me—with this kind of quiet intensity that made my pulse hitch. “I’ll take one too,” he said, voice low but steady. I gave him a nod, trying not to stare, but it was hard not to. He was tall—like, seriously tall—and every inch of him looked like it had been carved by the sun. That golden tan that only comes from living outside, not just visiting. His hair was buzzed close, neat and clean, but something about him still felt wild, like he belonged out here, chasing waves or something worse.

I stepped out, tugging down the edge of my pink skirt— that suddenly felt too short—and walked around to the drink side of the cart. The cooler hissed as I opened it, grabbed two cold ones, and handed it over.

Just as I turned to leave, the guy stopped me. “Wait—don’t I need to pay?”

My heart skipped, cheeks flushing. I spun back around, flustered. “Right. Yeah. Sorry, it’s my first day.” I fumbled for the tablet, feeling like a total touron.

“You’re good,” he said with a smile that read annoyed, cracking the beer open and taking a swig. But the other guy—Rafe—just stood there with an amused smirk, like he was quietly entertained by the whole thing. It only made my cheeks flush deeper.

And of course I had to screw up right in front of someone like him—tall, stupidly handsome, and clearly amused by what was happening. My cheeks burned hotter, and I hated how obvious it probably was.

After he paid, I mumbled a have a good day pretending I wasn’t totally mortified, and climbed back into the cart. As I drove off, slow and steady, I muttered to myself under my breath.

Behind me, I heard Kelce laugh. “Topper, you could’ve gotten a free drink, man!”

Rafe rolled his eyes at his friends, barely paying attention now as the beige cart disappeared down the path. His thoughts were still stuck on the girl in it—flustered, short, a little too innocent for this place. Cute, in a way that caught him off guard.

His heart stuttered, just for a second, and he frowned. What the hell was that?

“Looks like Cameron’s got a crush,” Kelce laughed, nudging him with that stupid grin.

Rafe shot him a look sharp enough to kill, and Kelce immediately got quiet. “Shut up,” Rafe muttered, jaw tight.

I could still feel the heat in my cheeks as the cart bounced along the path, the salty wind tugging at my hair. I didn’t dare look back—I already embarrassed myself enough.

But my mind wandered anyway, replaying the way he had looked at me. Like he was trying to figure something out. Like he saw through me, even in those few seconds.

It made my stomach flutter, and I hated that.

Get a grip, I told myself. Guys like that don’t pay attention to girls like me. Not really.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

I exhaled sharply as the blast of cool air hit me walking into the country club—finally a break from the heat. The place was nicer than I expected, all polished wood floors and white linen vibes, like money had been casually spilled everywhere. The only people lounging around were the kind with trust funds and last names that carried weight. I was a Kook, yeah—but not this kind of Kook.

I drifted toward the bar, eyes landing on the small “employees only” sign near the back. Just as I stepped forward, a girl I’d talked to earlier—cheerful, way too energetic for the heat—popped out of nowhere.

“Hey girl! Can you please do me a massive favor?” she started, eyes wide with that desperate sparkle. “There’s this party, and I have to go, but I can’t just leave the bar, like, totally unmanned. So could you maybe…?”

She trailed off, hanging on the question like it was already answered.

I blinked. “Uh, I’m actually on my break, sorry—”

Before I could finish, her hand was already on my shoulder.

“Perfect! You're the best, thank you so much! I owe you!”

And with that, she vanished, leaving me standing there, stunned, with her note pad to take orders. My stomach dropped when I finally caught up to the situation. How the hell was I suppose to do this?

After totally humiliating myself on the course, I knew I had to redeem the day somehow. No way I was walking out of here with just a sunburn and a bruised ego. I let out a breath and tried to shake it off, thinking back to when I used to help my mom at her restaurant. Long nights, sticky menus, endless refills—but I knew how to survive. This couldn’t be that bad.

I squared my shoulders and headed for the deck, the salty breeze catching the edge of my shirt as I pushed through the doors.

Outside, the scene was peak Outer Banks chaos. Golfers fresh off the green looked sun-tired and salty—either from their scores or the humidity. Rich moms clinked glasses while one-upping each other over SAT scores and college tours. And then there were the ones my age—tanned, tipsy, and desperate to prove they belonged. Designer sunglasses, backwards hats, practiced laughs. The summer elite.

I took a breath, rolled my shoulders back, and walked up to the first table—a well-dressed older man and a woman I assumed was his wife. They looked like they’d stepped right out of a luxury yacht.

“Hi there, can I get you anything to drink?” I asked, putting on my best smile.

The woman glanced up, her pearl earrings catching the light as she gave me a perfect, practiced grin. “I’ll have a martini, please, dear,” she said, voice smooth like she’d never been told no in her life.

Her husband barely looked up from his phone. “Beer,” he grunted.

Classy.

I nodded, keeping the smile on my face as I turned and made my way back to the bar. I slid their order over to the real bartender—wherever they were—and leaned against the counter for a second, trying not to look as out of place as I felt.

One table down. A whole sea of golf bros and country club queens to go.

I took a deep breath and slid another order onto the counter, mentally checking off another task. But just as I was about to rush off, a voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Are you the bartender?”

I turned, heart skipping—and then stalling—when I saw him. The same guy from earlier. Handsome in that effortless, probably-drives-a-Jeep-and-surfs-before-brunch kind of way. Now standing way too close beside me.

The smirk that spread across his face made my stomach do something weird. “I thought you were a cart girl,” he said smoothly.

“I—I am,” I stammered, suddenly forgetting how to use words. “But I was asked to cover…”

Why was I nervous? No clue. Maybe it was the way he looked at me, like I was some sort of prey.

His brow quirked. “You must be new around here.”

I glanced up, straight into his blue eyes, and instantly regretted my next question. “How’d you know?”

Obvious. The golf course disaster practically screamed it.

But instead of calling me out, he let out a quiet chuckle. “Lucky guess,” he teased, flashing a smile that was entirely too easygoing.

I exhaled, thankful. At least he wasn’t reporting me to someone in khakis and a clipboard.

He stared down at me, and I found myself locked in, unable to look away from his eyes—blue and piercing like they saw right through the act I was barely holding together.

“What’s your name?” he asked, leaning casually against the bar like he had all the time in the world. All the time just to talk to me.

I hesitated, just for a second, before giving it to him. And I could’ve sworn—sworn—I heard him mutter “cute” under his breath, but it was so quick I couldn’t be sure if I imagined it.

“I’m Rafe,” he said simply.

I repeated the name in my head.

A small smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it. “Nice to meet you, Rafe,” I replied, somehow managing to sound calm despite the full-blown gymnastics routine happening in my stomach.

Rafe knew he was a goner the second she opened her mouth to talk to Topper on the course. There was something about the way she carried herself—like she didn’t know the effect she had, and that only made it worse. Or better. He hadn’t decided yet.

But after seeing her smile? Yeah, that sealed the deal.

The way she nervously fiddled with her fingers when she spoke to him—it wasn’t fake. She wasn’t putting on some country club act. Her eyes held this softness, this kind of innocence he wasn’t used to. It didn’t match the crowd around them, and that contrast made her even more interesting.

And the crazy part? He just wanted to keep talking to her. Hear her voice. Figure her out.

And this was after one day.

Rafe’s phone buzzed in his pocket, cutting through the moment and snapping his focus away from the girl standing in front of him. He cursed under his breath, jaw tightening as he pulled it out.

Dad.

Of course.

He glanced at the screen, then back at her—still standing there, still looking up at him with those wide eyes like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

For a second, he considered ignoring it. Just letting it ring out. But he knew better. His dad didn’t call without a reason, and ignoring him only made things worse.

“I gotta go,” he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow—on the cart this time?” he added, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

I smiled without meaning to, nodding. “Yeah… I hope,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

As soon as I heard myself, my cheeks burned. Seriously? I hope?

His smirk deepened, like he’d caught it—but thankfully, he didn’t say anything. He just gave me one last look, then turned and walked off, leaving me standing there replaying the whole conversation in my head.

And for a moment, I forgot I was supposed to be working.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

I pulled into my employee parking spot and let out a sigh, gripping the steering wheel for a second longer than necessary. Okay, I told myself. Let’s just stay as a cart girl today. No mistakes, no surprises.

My first day might’ve been a total disaster, but I couldn’t get Rafe out of my head. As much as I didn’t to admit it— mainly because I just met him, the thought of running into him again was the only thing that made coming back this morning feel… kind of exciting.

I grabbed my bag from the passenger seat and made my way across the lot, the air already warm with that early summer heat. I climbed into my cart, settling in behind the wheel like I belonged there, like yesterday hadn’t been a disaster.

I glanced down at the pink and gold watch on my wrist, checked the time, and gave myself a small nod.

Time to start.

I cruised slowly around the course, starting to get the hang of the layout. Each turn felt a little more familiar, each group of golfers a little less intimidating. The Outer Banks air was crisp that morning, cooler than usual. The sky hung low and gray, the sun barely pushing through the clouds like it was trying to make up its mind.

I silently cursed my outfit choice—my skirt offered zero protection from the wind, and my thin tee wasn’t much better. Not exactly built for gloomy weather.

As I pulled around another bend, I spotted two golfers near their clubs. I eased the cart toward them, and my heart skipped the second I realized who it was—Rafe and his friend from the other day.

I bit back a smile and drove a little closer. “Would you guys like anything?” I asked, suddenly unsure of where to put my hands.

“A beer, a really cold—” Topper started, but Rafe cut him off, stepping forward with that same grin that had been stuck in my head since day one.

He leaned against the front of the cart, looking way too comfortable. “Where were you yesterday?”

I swallowed, trying not to overthink my every move as I stepped out to grab a beer from the cooler. “It wasn’t my day to work,” I said, forcing casual into my voice even though my pulse betrayed me.

He hummed, eyes drifting away for a second, a small frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What days do you work?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual, like it was just another question.

But it wasn’t.

Truth was, he'd spent more time scanning the course for her yesterday than actually playing the damn game. Every cart that passed, every flash of movement, he hoped it was her. And when it wasn’t—he noticed.

He glanced back at her, trying not to let it show. He just wanted to know when to look.

“U-uh, normally every day,” I said, my voice quieter than I meant it to be. “They only gave me yesterday off because they found out I worked another shift.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized I’d probably given way more detail than necessary. I bit the inside of my cheek, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was, how casual he looked leaning against the cart—while I stood there feeling like my heartbeat was on full display.

Rafe chewed the inside of his lip as he watched her pull out a beer for Topper. Her skirt shifted slightly when she reached into the cooler, riding up just enough to make his gaze flick there—then snap away just as fast.

He silently cursed under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair like that would help shake it off.

When he glanced back, Topper was staring at him with that familiar irritated look. Rafe waved him off, not in the mood for whatever passive-aggressive comment was loading in his head. Topper huffed, turned, and grabbed his club, muttering something under his breath.

Rafe rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to her—because, yeah, she was the reason he was even out here this early.

“This is for your friend,” I said softly, offering the beer with a small smile.

Rafe took it from me, and his fingers brushed mine for just a second—but it was enough. Enough to send butterflies into full flight in my stomach.

“How much?” he asked, his eyes locked on mine with that same smirk from the other day, clearly still enjoying the memory.

I let out a quiet huff, trying my best not to blush as I looked up at him. He towered over me, jacket unzipped, shorts on despite the chill. Of course he wasn’t cold. Of course he looked good.

“Twelve dollars,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “And don’t worry—I’m not letting you get away without paying this time.”

A spark of amusement flickered in his eyes. A little feisty. He liked that.

Without missing a beat, he pulled out his wallet and handed me a fifty. “Keep the change.”

My eyes widened as I looked at the bill. “Rafe, I can’t take this—that’s way too much,” I said quickly, trying to give it back.

But he just shook his head, gently pushing my hand away. “No. I want you to take it,” he said, voice low. “You deserve it.”

The words hit harder than I expected, warming something in my chest. I hesitated, then slowly slid the bill into my pocket.

A breeze swept past, and I shivered, rubbing my hands along my arms. Rafe’s expression shifted—he noticed and he didn’t like it.

“I better go. I’ll see you tomorrow, Rafe,” I said, turning away to close the cooler and lock the protective door over it.

When I turned back around, he was still there. His expression was unreadable, but there was something lingering in it—something close to disappointment.

“I’ll be looking for you,” he finally said. The usual smirk was on his face, but his words carried a sincerity that made my knees feel just a little weaker.

I let out a quiet chuckle, feeling more confident than I expected. “Bye Rafe,” I said as I climbed into the cart.

Rafe stepped back as I pulled away, making sure he didn’t get clipped. I threw him a little wave over my shoulder, and he laughed, shaking his head before returning it.

The smile didn’t leave my face.

But as I drove off, shivering again from the cool breeze, something caught my eye in the passenger seat. I blinked, then felt my heart leap.

Rafe’s jacket.

He must’ve left it without realizing. I slowed down near the bathrooms, reaching over and picking it up. It was still warm, thick and worn in, and when I brought it closer, his scent filled the air around me—clean, woodsy, and something undeniably him.

I hesitated for half a second before slipping it on.

Instant comfort. Instant butterflies.

I could only hope he didn’t mind.

Topper let out an exaggerated sigh of relief as Rafe returned, beer in hand. “Finally, man. Thought you were never gonna stop flirting with her.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, choosing not to take the bait. Typical Topper.

As Topper took a long swig, his brow furrowed. “Hey… where’s your jacket?”

Rafe glanced down at his arms, like he was just now realizing it wasn’t there. But he knew. He’d known the second she pulled away in that cart.

“Ah, shit,” he muttered, dragging a hand over his face in fake frustration. “Must’ve left it on her seat.”

He didn’t bother to hide the small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

It had been a week and a few days since the jacket incident, and Rafe hadn’t stopped thinking about it—or her.

Every time he caught sight of that golf cart in the distance, he found himself straightening up, scanning for her face, hoping she’d glance his way. She’d been wearing the jacket the day after he left it—he’d spotted it from across the green. He didn’t say anything, just watched her tug it a little tighter when the wind kicked up.

He liked that she kept it. Liked that she didn’t give it back.

Of course, they’d talked nearly every day when she stopped by his hole on the course—but the jacket? Never mentioned. Not once.

She was half-terrified that if she brought it up, he’d ask for it back. And honestly, she wasn’t ready to give it up. What she didn’t know was that Rafe had no intention of asking. He liked seeing her wear it. Liked the idea that a part of him was keeping her warm out there.

I drove around the course feeling more at ease than I had on my first day. Country music played softly from the cart speakers, mixing with the wind that cut across my bare legs—I’d forgotten to dress for the weather again. Rafe’s jacket rested on my lap, a comfort. I tugged it a little tighter.

As I rounded a curve, my eyes scanned the fairway like they always did. And there—tall, lean, standing alone—it had to be him.

I’d never admit it to him, but every time I approached a group of golfers, I secretly hoped it would be Rafe.

I drove my cart up closer to the golfer and smiled when I could confirm it was him. “Hi, Rafe!” I called out cheerily, the words rolling off my tongue with way more ease than they had that first day. I’d definitely gotten more comfortable around him—too comfortable, maybe.

Rafe turned at the sound of my voice, that familiar grin already tugging at his lips. It was like he’d been waiting for me.

“Hey, pretty girl. Whatcha up to?” he asked, voice low and cool as ever.

The nickname hit me —warm and unexpected—and I felt the blush creep up my neck before I could stop it.

Rafe had gotten bolder with his flirting over the past few days—it wasn’t subtle anymore. His compliments, the way he looked at her, lingered just a little too long to be casual.

Still, she played it off. Told herself that was just how he was—charming, smooth, flirty with everyone. But deep down, she couldn’t help but hope... that maybe it wasn’t just his personality. Maybe it was just for her.

“Just driving around, listening to some music,” I said with a shrug, the faint twang of country still playing in the background. “You’re alone today?”

I tilted my head, genuinely surprised. It was rare to see him without the other two guys trailing behind.

Rafe nodded, walking up to the cart and resting his hands on the roof, leaning in slightly. The move brought him closer—close enough to steal my breath a little.

“Yeah,” he said, casually. “Decided to come alone today.”

His eyes flicked over the inside of the cart, lingering for a beat too long. Then they landed on his jacket still draped over my lap—and something shifted in his expression. A small, barely-there smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he seemed... almost proud.

“Want company?” he asked, voice a little lower now, a spark of confidence threading through his words.

I looked up at him, wide-eyed, lips tugging into a smile before I could stop myself.

“Would you really want to come along?” she asked, the doubt in her voice betraying the slight nervousness she felt. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd get bored—it seemed unlikely, but still, it felt too casual.

But Rafe was anything but bored when it came to her. He nodded slowly, a low hum escaping his chest. "Yeah," he said, his tone confident but soft. "I’d like that."

She let out a light laugh, the sound warm and easy. "I guess you could join me. If I get fired, it’s your fault."

Rafe smirked, stepping closer. Without warning, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, the gesture light but meaningful. “Don’t worry, pretty girl. They won’t fire you,” he reassured her, his voice low and steady.

And even if they tried, he thought—he wouldn’t let that happen. Not on his watch

Rafe stood there, waiting with that confident look on his face, as if he expected me to do something.

I raised an eyebrow, confused. “Are you going to get in?”

He stared at me for a beat, eyes narrowing slightly, before the smirk spread across his face, as if he were offended by the suggestion that he might not.

“Yes. Scoot over, I’m driving,” he said, his voice firm with an edge of playfulness.

Before I could even protest, he was already sliding into the cart, practically nudging me to the side. His leg brushed against mine, and I immediately felt the heat crawl up my skin. It was a simple touch, nothing overly intimate—but it felt like a spark.

The warmth between us was suddenly so palpable, I almost forgot how to breathe for a second.

I could feel the heat from his leg radiating against mine, and despite myself, I shifted slightly, trying to keep the space between us. But Rafe didn’t seem to mind. He leaned back in the seat, stretching his arms above his head, completely at ease as if he owned the place. His confidence was infectious, and I found myself getting more comfortable with every inch he moved closer.

“Comfortable?” he asked, glancing at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I smiled, trying to act like I wasn’t completely aware of every inch of him next to me. But deep down, I liked it—more than I cared to admit. “Yeah, totally,” I said, though the way my heart was racing told a different story.

Rafe’s smirk widened, sensing my nervousness—or maybe enjoying it. He nudged my leg with his casually, as if to remind me of how close we really were. “Good,” he said, his voice low, his eyes flicking down to my lap where his jacket still lay. “You know, I like seeing you in my jacket.”

I chuckled, my heart fluttering a little. “I guess it’s better than being cold,” I said, my voice betraying the flutter of warmth spreading through me.

“Mm-hmm,” Rafe hummed, his gaze lingering on me, that same playful smirk tugging at his lips. “That’s one way to put it.” He knew I was covering up the real reason.

Rafe started the cart, the engine humming softly as we cruised along the course. The country music played in the background, its soothing rhythm filling the space between us. The wind had calmed down a bit, and the cool air felt refreshing as we made our way down the winding path. It was peaceful—more so than I had expected—and I found myself relaxing in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.

After a couple of minutes of comfortable silence, Rafe’s eyes drifted toward me. His gaze wasn’t intrusive, but it was intense—calm yet purposeful, like he was taking in everything about me.

I glanced over at him, and for a split second, our eyes locked. I could feel the subtle tension between us, the way his presence seemed to fill every corner of the cart. His gaze softened, but the intensity remained, making my heart beat just a little faster.

“Y’know,” Rafe started, his voice casual but his fingers tightening ever so slightly on the steering wheel, “there’s this event coming up at the club. Some really formal, over-the-top thing my family always drags me to.” He glanced over at me, a flicker of something uncertain in his eyes. “I was wondering if… you’d want to go with me?”

His usual confidence was there, sure—but underneath, I could hear it. That slight edge of nervousness he was trying to hide.

I froze, eyes wide. Was this real? Was he seriously asking me to a fancy club event? As his date?

“L-like a date?” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. My heart was pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it.

Rafe looked down at me, his playful smirk fading into something more serious. His gaze held mine, steady and unwavering. “Yeah,” he said, voice low and sure. “Like a date.”

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

Then I quickly cleared my throat, trying to play it cool even though my face was probably on fire. “I—uh—I would love to. That sounds... fun,” I said, my voice steady enough, but the grin spreading across my face totally gave me away.

Rafe let out a soft laugh and shook his head like I was the funniest thing he’d seen all day. His hand moved without warning, resting gently on my thigh, his touch warm and grounding and gave it a squeeze.

“You don’t understand the effect you have on me,” he murmured, his tone more serious now, more honest than I’d ever heard it.

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. Not with the way my whole body was buzzing at the feeling of his hand, his words, him.

But inside, I was screaming.

His face was so close to mine—closer than it had ever been. I could feel his breath on my skin, warm and intoxicating. My gaze was locked on his eyes, but his flickered downward, landing on my lips. The world seemed to still around us.

He leaned in slowly, like he was giving me a chance to pull away. But I didn’t want to. I was frozen, heart racing, anticipation buzzing through every inch of me.

I’m about to kiss him, I thought giddily, my lips parting just slightly as my eyes fluttered shut. I felt his lips ghost over mine, a whisper of a touch that sent goosebumps up my arms.

And then—

Thunk!

“Watch out!” someone called from across the course.

Both our eyes snapped open just as something hit the roof of the cart with a loud clunk. Rafe let out a groan, dropping his forehead gently against mine in defeat.

His hand, still resting against my cheek, caressed it softly, his thumb brushing back and forth as if trying to soothe the moment we’d just lost.

I giggled, unable to help myself.

He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, one brow raised as a smirk tugged at his lips. “Funny?”

I nodded, biting back another laugh. “Kinda.”

That teasing spark lit up in his eyes again. “I was so close,” he mumbled under his breath.

I smiled, leaning into his touch just a little more. “Yeah,” I whispered, “you were.”

But the moment wasn’t really gone. If anything, it left us wanting more.

“You drive me insane,” Rafe murmured, his voice low and laced with a kind of frustration that only made me smile wider.

“Good,” I teased, my eyes gleaming with mischief.

He chuckled, that deep, effortless sound that always made my stomach flip. Before I could say anything else, he dipped his head and pressed a soft kiss to the side of my neck. Then another. And another. Each one slower, more deliberate than the last.

I giggled, warmth rushing up my face as I squirmed slightly in my seat. “Rafe!” I laughed, playfully pushing at his head. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

He pulled back just enough to look at me, that smug grin on his face, eyes full of trouble. “Worth it.”

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missnxthingg · 7 months ago

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 - 𝐹𝐼𝑉𝐸

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Lando Norris x Single Mom!Reader (Best friends to lovers) 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - Lando and Y/N have always been the best of friends, always there for each other through thick and thin. After years of sharing the paddock and building their own silly little family, both of them just can't hold their feelings inside anymore, even though they're are both afraid it would ruin their friendship. So who'll take the first step? 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 7.2 K | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - Swearing and smut! (skip if you want to) 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - One more chapter to go and I REALLY hope this one is like... me predicting the future 🤞 And if you want to skip the smut part, I put it on italics, so don't worry about missing it!

smau version | series masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

Race weekends in Zandvoort always make Y/N very anxious, because everyone knew the owner of the house is Max Verstappen. No driver had such power over the crowd of fans on the grandstands of the Netherlands than the leader of Red Bull Racing. But this year, the sea of orange – that most definitely weren’t for McLaren this time – was the last thing making her nervous.

Her relationship with Lando had barely started, and this would be the first race they attended as an official couple, even though not a lot of people really know about it. On the past week, they took their time to enjoy the last days of summer break and enjoy being together. But now, they were finally stepping out of the safeness of their home to start going out into the public as a couple. People would start to acknowledge their relationship.

It wasn’t the type of thing you tell through the internet to close people around you. Lando got to tell his best friends, including Max, through one last golfing session before the break was over. Y/N revealed to her parents once they came around to stay with Olivia for the weekend, so she could work. But their team and the public didn’t really know about it, and it was making her more nervous than anything in life.

“Fuck me, this is hard”, she cursed as she stepped into the paddock with the sensation that everyone had their eyes on her, as if she had a big bad secret to tell them all.

“Y/N, meeting with the drivers in fifteen”, Steve, her boss, called once he spotted her walking past him. That would be the first time she would be in the same room with her boyfriend and their entire team after summer break, and she was nervous, because she knew Lando wouldn’t behave around them.

As much as Y/N was being careful to protect their relationship from everyone, he didn’t really care who knew about them. And of course the first thing he did when she entered the McLaren motorhome was press a long kiss to her cheek.

People around them frowned. Not that they didn’t know about Lando and Y/N close friendship, it was just that they rarely showed their affection for each other inside the work environment – except for big racing achievements.

“Morning, baby”, he mumbled, pulling her for a hug before the start of the meeting. Lando had left the hotel earlier for training with Jon, so they still hadn’t seen each other today. “Did you sleep well?”

“I’m a little anxious, but it was alright”, she kept her voice low as they had their casual and wholesome conversation in the corner, ignoring people’s staring. “And you?”

“I always sleep well next to you”, he winked before pulling a chair for her to seat at their meeting room.

Everyone around them wanted to say something about what they were seeing. And surprising enough, Oscar was the first one to address the elephant in the room, after ten minutes of Lando and Y/N pretending it was all just the same.

“You two are together, aren’t you?”, the Australian asked, and Y/N had to hide her face between her hands in order to hide her embarrassment as well. “Fucking knew it”.

“We just started dating”, Lando started, ignoring the entire conversation they were having a minute ago about the press conference he was going to participate.

“And I was waiting for the right moment to tell you all, but Mr Norris can’t keep his hands to himself”, Y/N completed, making her boyfriend chuckle with the response.

“You all owe me dinner”, Zak stated, making the entire team laugh and the couple frown at their reactions. “We all knew you’ve been together since Miami. We were just waiting for the time you made it official”.

“See! I told you weren’t careful with your hugging and kissing around the paddock”, Y/N smacked Lando’s bicep, making him hiss in pain. “Great, this definitely not how I wanted everyone to find out about this”.

“But it isn’t so bad, is it?”, Lando questioned, not only the team, but Y/N as well. “You don’t need to be afraid about this being public”.

Y/N glanced at him and her eyes said it all, that the conversation still wasn’t over, because there were things she wanted to say away from everyone else. But she continued with her discourse: “If you think this is unprofessional or that it will mess with his PR, I can step away from the team”.

“Nonsense”, Zak laughed, joined by her other boss. “If anything, you make his PR better. And people absolutely love you as well. So as long as it doesn’t mess with the team results, I don’t see a problem with you staying with McLaren, Y/N”.

“And you two have always been very professional whenever you’re wearing papaya. So we know you’ll continue being respectful at work”.

It still didn’t make Y/N relax that now everyone knew about them. She still had hundreds of thoughts about people knowing about their relationship, because she had lived through Lando’s past relationships, to which the public had made sure to ruin with their online activity.

“Is that why you’re anxious?”, he asked once they were alone in his driver’s room, and she voiced her concerns to her boyfriend. “Y/N, I love you. And this time, I don’t think anyone will have the ability to ruin this for us, not even online haters”.

“But…”, she tried to justify her worries once again, but she ran out of breath, having to take a seat on his tiny couch to breathe. Lando sat next to her and held her hands between his, so they could have a heart-to-heart conversation.

“I know relationships are scary, especially one so public like ours, but I promise you that I will do anything to protect you. To protect us”, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, making her smile for a second. “And I don’t want to hide you, my love. You know I’ve never wanted to do this”.

“I still worry a lot about what people will think about this”, she admitted, and he understood her side. “I’m a single mother. I’m a coworker. You know exactly what some people think about me. All of this can turn out to be very bad for us”.

“I can assure you that people whose opinion matters will not care about any of this”, he said, letting one of his hands find her cheek, where he rubbed his thumb in comfort. “I love you. Nothing will ever change this”.

“I love you too”.

Y/N found it funny how much trusting someone can make you more confident with time. After that conversation with Lando, she wasn’t afraid of telling people anymore. So when she learned that he had told his parents, when both showed up for the race in Zandvoort, she didn’t worry about their reaction – which was really good, for that matter.

“Now I can finally admit it to you, Y/N. I’ve always rooted for you and Lando”, Cisca said to her, as they watched one of his free practices together. “I was the first person to know he was in love with you, by the way. Mothers always know, and you’ll see it”.

“Did he tell you first?”

“Yes”, she smiled softly.”When he was twenty. But I knew it before any words came out of his mouth. He has been down bad for you since you met, and I could see it in his eyes. So I’m glad he finally got the girl of his dreams.

“I’m glad too”, Y/N smiled at Cisca before taking a quick glance at the television in the garage. Lando had just set the best time on the session, taking the first position on the grid. “You know, I was nervous about people’s reactions. Specially those who are very important to him”.

“Worried about what, my love?”

“That people would think I’m only using him”, Y/N admitted. “I know what people say about me online. While some people think our friendship is really cute, others think I’m only using him for his money to raise my daughter. But I swear that I’m not”.

“Well, I know that you’re not using him. And so does Adam, his siblings, Max, your friends. Everyone that matters know you’re with him because you love him. And they know that everything Lando does for you and Olivia is because he loves you too”.

“Yeah, he told me that”, Y/N’s lips curved into a small smile. “And all my insecurities went away”.

“And by the way, it’s always funny to see a little girl bossing him around like I saw in Silverstone”, Cisca laughed, remembering all the times she saw then interact at his home race. “He loves her so much, since she was born, you know? He has always said that his biggest wish was to be the father Olivia never had. And I think he’ll be just great doing that”.

“I think so too”, Y/N admitted. “He has been taking care of us for as long as I can remember. I couldn’t have named a better godfather for Ollie. He said to me that he wanted to be in this position for her, and so far, he’s been great at owning up to his words”.

“I’m glad I taught him very well to do that”, his mother laughed. “So don’t worry about people. Everyone that actually matters will always have your back”.

“Thank you, Cisca. It means a lot, really”.

While it made things easier for Y/N to accept being public with Lando, letting things flow naturally, his ‘PR problem’ ass wasn’t helping on keeping it a secret from anyone. Because of the amazing weekend he was having, he didn’t really care if anyone saw his affection towards his girlfriend. Starting from pole, he arrived at the paddock on the weekend and immediately found her so they could walk with his arm around her shoulder, right in front of all the photographers and fans.

“I swear to God that if you end up exposing us too soon, or in the wrong way, I’m going to kill you”, she whispered. “Or worse, I’m going to break up with you”.

“That’s definitely worse, babe. At least I would’ve died knowing you were my girlfriend”, he giggled, pulling her inside the motorhome, away from everyone’s eyes. “And people need to start getting used to us being a couple. I don’t want to hide you to the world. You’re my girlfriend and I want everyone to know”.

“Lando, please, we talked about this…”, she started, but he silenced her with a kiss. Lucky enough, they were alone inside the motorhome, a rare occasion on Sundays. “For fuck’s sake!”

“If I win today, will you let me hard launch us?”, he asked, making her roll her eyes. “I mean, does it matter if we do a soft or a hard launch? Everyone has always rooted for us. And I think that if I win, then it’s the Universe giving us a go”.

“Lando, you’re on fucking pole. There’s a very big chance you end up winning today”.

“But you very much know that pole position has never guaranteed me anything”, he joked, knowing very much about his reputation with race starts. “So, do we have a deal?”

“Alright. If you win today, then I’ll let you tell everyone about us. But if you don’t win, then we’re doing things my way”, she pointed a finger at his face, making Lando open his signature boyish smile before taking her hand away from his face and pulling her for another kiss.

“Deal”, he winked, already thinking he would do anything in his power to make sure he won today. He didn’t care who he would have to take off the race to get a chance at winning, he had to get this win for them both.

Later that day, when Lando lost the lead before the first corner, Y/N thought she had her answer for the day. Of course, Max Verstappen would win in his home race, it was obvious. But when he easily overtook him and finished the race twenty-second ahead of the three time world champion, she knew the Universe was throwing a big message at their faces.

She sighed in defeat when Lando opened the last lap, and teared up when he finally crossed the finishing line, so proud of his achievement. It was the green light they’ve been waiting for so long in their relationship. Then, she got to hear the last radio message of the race through her headphones, through the cooldown lap, one that made her laugh.

“Tell Y/N that a deal is a deal”, Lando said. “She’ll understand it”.

She shook her head in disbelief, but was already accepting that this was happening. The whole world was about to know about them. So she joined his parents to wait for Lando at the parc fermé, and they all cheered a lot when he parked his bright papaya McLaren in the winner’s position. He rushed his way out of the car and jumped into his team's arms, eyes already looking for Y/N through his visor. After the weighting, he finally removed his helmet and rushed to his girlfriend. What she wasn’t expecting, though, was a big kiss in front of everyone. In front of every camera, every journalist and every fan present on the track. He didn't care about anyone or anything else, just about this girl.

“A deal is a deal”, he whispered against her lips, making her entire face burn in embarrassment.

“When you said ‘hard launch’, I thought you meant an Instagram story with a cute caption”.

“Uhm… not really my way of doing things”, he shrugged with a smile, moving onto his parents, who were excitedly waiting for their turn to hug him. It felt so good to have family there to cheer for him. This race, after so many bad ones, didn't feel so lonely.

But as much as Lando just wanted to be with his family, he still had a lot of duties to do after the race, including the podium celebration and the media duties afterwards. He still couldn’t get his hands off Y/N, always having his arms wrapped around her somehow as they walked along the paddock to everywhere he was required to be.

“If someone gets mad about the hard launch, I’m putting it into your account, alright?”

“Don’t worry about it. Everything will be fine and me winning proves that. We let the Universe decide the timing for us and it did”, he shrugged. “I’m just happy to finally tell everyone that you’re mine”

“Did you push your car to the limit just to win the race for us?”, she frowned.

“Wish I could say I did, but the McLaren was a rocketship today. It really was just faith”, he assured with a smile. "Every piece of this puzzle fell perfectly into place. Now we just have to enjoy it”.

Of course, the entire media wanted to know about this. Normally, some vehicles don’t get too much into the drivers’ personal lives, but since Lando kissed her in the middle of the track, right after winning a race, it would be interesting for them to have a quote about who’s the mysterious girl wearing a McLaren shirt that he kissed in the middle of the track. The journalists all knew her, since Y/N was always by Lando’s side through every media duty, but the world was about to really get to know her.

“I don’t have a lot to say about that”, Lando shrugged when one of the reporters asked about the kiss. “I won, and I was happy, and I kissed my girlfriend who was there to celebrate it with me. Not a big deal at all, except or the fact that now everyone knows she’s my girlfriend”, he chuckled.

Y/N, who was standing right next to him holding her own microphone to record all the conversations for McLaren, felt like she was about to burst into flames for embarrassment. She could only imagine the internet burning up videos and comments as well. Maybe she should stay away from social media for a couple of days.

“So McLaren’s golden boy is no longer single now?”, the reporter asked.

“Yeah��, Lando giggled. “And they say I got no rizz. Yet, I got the most perfect girl to cheer for me at every race”.

Later that day, after all the team celebrations and his duties with the media team, they left the paddock hand in hand, right next to his parents. Lando didn’t want it to be a big celebration this time, because there was no point for it. He just wanted to have dinner with his family and enjoy the rest of the night with Y/N.

“I think I’m having déjà vu from Miami”, he whispered in her ear as they approached his car, making Y/N laugh. “Come on, I’m serious”.

“As if you weren’t going to get it”, Y/N joked. “And I think it will be good to finally have some time alone for once. I love Ollie, but I think we deserve some time alone for now”.

“We’re already behaving like an old married couple”, he chuckled, and lowered his voice once again. “But yeah, it will be nice to not be quiet for once”.

“You’re pathetic”, she laughed, but deep down he knew she agreed with him.

The dinner celebration was filled with laughter and joy, with both of them having a fun meal with Adam and Cisca, who were getting to see them as a couple for the first time in their lives. They expressed how much they were glad to finally see them together, loving to see the smile on their son’s face for the first time in a long while.

“Thank you for taking care of him, Y/N”, Adam said, as they were saying their goodbyes after dinner. The couple would be leaving for England tonight. “You have always taken care of him, but I know this time is different. I know you make him the happiest”.

“It’s so easy to love your son”, she admitted. “So you don’t have to thank me. I have to thank you for raising such a good man”.

“Stop! I’m blushing over here”, Lando commented as he hugged his mother. “You silly idiots love me, I know. I love you all, too”.

He was over the moon with the ending of this weekend. When they arrived back at the hotel, Lando couldn't stop kissing Y/N. She tried making her skincare routine, taking off the uncomfortable clothes to slip into bed, but he kept kissing her neck as she brushed her teeth.

“You look so beautiful tonight”, he complimented, his lips close to her ear, as she felt her entire body shiver with his contact. Y/N was wearing a see-through nightgown that she packed specially for this trip, because she knew that no matter the result, they would be alone at night for the first time in a while.

His hands ran through her entire body and Lando was surprised to see she wasn't wearing any underwear when he put his hands under her dress. He gasped when they found her unclothed core.

“Oh my God, you're getting reckless”, he giggled, turning her around as she put her arms around his neck. “Am I taking you down the wrong path?”

“I've always been like this, muppet. Now, you get to see this new side of me”, she nudged his nose, making him smile brightly.

“I like this new side of you”, he pecked her lips once again before pulling her out of the bathroom.

Lando and Y/N were loving to take their time together, instead of sneaking around the house and not taking too long to have sex because of Olivia. But now they didn't have a little girl to bother them in such intimate moments. They savoured each other's lips and enjoyed moments of silence, filled only and exclusively by their kisses noises.

She palmed him through his pants during the kiss, making Lando moan between their lips. Y/N felt him growing hard, so she slipped a hand inside his trousers, making him moan louder this time.

“Baby”, he called as she started massaging his cock. “Fuck, don’t stop”.

“I wasn't planning to”.

Y/N turned him around, straddling his hips, only to easily take his shirt off. While she didn't work his cock with her hand, her hips were doing their job as they made out a little more.

“Do you want to take my nightie off?”, she asked, and Lando quickly nodded, pulling the dress off her body, making his lips immediately find her nipples. Y/N rocked her hips against his, doing circular movements, as she felt him harder than a rock under her core.

“Please, I need you”, he asked, throwing his head back into the pillow with the pressure on his cock.

“I got you, my love”.

Y/N started kissing down his chest, paying attention to his nipples as well, knowing everything in his body was highly sensitive at the moment. She lowered her kisses to his belly, until her lips found the hem of his trousers and boxers. She darted her eyes up, meeting him halfway, as she provoked him with the kisses. When she managed to pull off his last pieces of clothes that were keeping them apart, her hands immediately found a grip on his cock.

“So beautiful”, she complimented, making him blush under her comment. “I'm gonna make you feel so good, my love”.

She lowered her head to get closer to his cock, swirling her tongue around his tip. Her eyes looked up and they found Lando's, who was attentively watching her every move. His hands brushed through her tongue and soon gathered her hair in a ponytail, taking it out of the way so he could see her better.

Y/N found it very hot when she finally put him inside her mouth and Lando let out a surprisingly loud moan. She bobbed her head up and down, his noises only making her keep going with her job. Eventually, he started thrusting his hips into her mouth a little, desperately chasing for his high. But afraid of hurting his girlfriend, he kept his strength to himself.

“I don't want you to hold back”, Y/N said, popping his dick out of her mouth, still stroking him with her hands. “Tonight, I want to feel everything, please”.

“Fuck, you're driving me insane”, Lando sat straight, and pulled her into a kiss, tasting a little bit of himself on her mouth. “Get on your knees on the floor, beautiful”.

Y/N did as she was told, and he stood up from the bed, putting a hand on the base of his cock and using the other one to caress her face.

“Open your mouth, baby girl”, he brushed the tip of his dick through her lips as she looked up so innocently at him. But then she opened it wide, knowing he had a big cock, so she could take all of him. “My good girl. Gonna take all of me in your mouth, uhm? Don't want me to hold back?”

Lando’s cock was already deep inside her throat and Y/N tried her best not to gag at how big he was. He only stopped with the rough pace when he felt his dick spilling cum inside her throat, panting her on the inside with a little piece of him. Once he was empty, Lando left her mouth open on the floor and paid attention to the white liquid on her tongue, to which she swallowed as she looked up at him.

“Fucking hell”, he cursed, pulling her back up so he could kiss her again. “You're so fucking sexy, my girl. You did so good”.

“Now please do something to help me, because I'm dripping”.

Lando had gone a little soft again, but with a little more time, he would be ready to go again. This only gave him more time to make Y/N enjoy herself. And after weeks discovering her body like the palm of his hand, he knew exactly what she liked him to do.

“Come on, I'll take care of my good girl, because she's been so good today”, he pressed kisses to her cheek before shoving her back to bed. If she wanted it rough, she would have it. And Y/N loved when he altered between soft and dom in bed.

She could feel his thick fingers working in circles on her clit as he intensively flipped, bite, sucked and kissed her nipples, one of the most sensitive areas of her body.

“I want to try something different today”, he said, pulling a shirt from the floor and wrapping it around her eyes, as some sort of blindfold. Then, he took a little surprise out of his bag; handcuffs, to which she only found out when he felt the coldness of the metal against the skin of her wrists, tying her arms to the headboard. Now, her senses were solely focused on touching.

“You're being so bold today”.

“I know how to obey my girlfriend when she says she doesn't want me to hold back”, he shrugged, making her entire body shiver with only the words.

Lando was quiet for a moment, and it seemed like he went somewhere else in the room, taking a very long time before he did anything to her, leaving her naked in bed, legs wide open for his pleasure. Then suddenly, she felt fingers doing circles on her clit again, this time taking the slowest time to provoke her. Then she felt his hot tongue going through her cunt, which made her moan loudly. But the licking was just a spoiler, and the entrance plate was his fingers, who started pumping in and out of her roughly, then curling at the right spot inside of her. It felt so good to the point she could feel her high coming and coming and…

Nothing. Lando pulled his fingers away from her, leaving her squirming alone in bed. She whined at the loss of contact and almost cried to have her orgasm ruined, not getting to do anything about it because of the handcuffs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Lando, I need to fucking cum ”, she cried. “Please, I'm so close”.

The next round, Lando settled between her legs and ate her pussy as if his life depended on it. Y/N wanted more than anything to see him going down on her, to touch his fluff hair that was brushing deliciously against her tights. The only thing she could do was lock him close to her with her tights. Still, it didn't keep him from pulling away just as she was about to reach her high again.

“What the fuck, Lando? Why are you doing this to me?”, she whined, missing the contact on her core, wanting her release.

“Haven’t you heard of edging, baby?”, he asked. “I'm making sure you're good to cum as hard as you can when the time comes”.

"You're bad", she cried, making him smile at her, even though she couldn't see him at all.

He squeezed her hips and reassured: "Trust me, you're gonna thank me for this later”

Lando softly brushed his fingers against her sensitive core, and Y/N bucked her hips towards his fingers, wanting nothing more than to feel something more. And he obeyed. For a good thirty minutes, he spent between her legs, edging her in ways he never thought he could. But one time, when he was already feeling his cock rock hard and ready to go again, he didn't pull away when he felt her pussy clenching around his fingers as he used his tongue to stimulate her clit.

Y/N came harder than she had ever done in her life, making Lando's face soaking wet. And still, he made sure to lick all of it, making her clean for the next step. When he came back from her tights and removed her blindfold, Lando had a smug smile on his face, proud of his work.

"God, you're soaked", she laughed, and then it dawned on her why his face was wet. "Oh God, did I…?”.

"Squirt? I think so", he said with a proud smile. "I didn't know you could do that”.

"I didn't know I could do that", Y/N admitted, making Lando smile wider.

"Oh, I'm so proud of myself right now”, he laughed, running his thumb through his mouth to collect the rest of her juices, only to put it on his mouth to taste her again.

“Ugh, men…”, Y/N rolled her eyes with a smirk, and watched him undo the ties on her wrists, making her arms finally come back down. “Thank God, I was sore”.

“Sorry, baby. Promise to go easy on you now”, he pressed a few kisses to her face, making her heart swell in adoration. How could this man be so sexy and cute at the same time?

“Uhm, I love you”, she ran her fingers through his hair, making him smile widely.

“I love you too”, their lips met in a sweet kiss, shifting the mood in the bedroom1

Lando pressed kisses to every inch of her skin and massaged her arms, making sure she was soothed and well rested for another round. And of course the massages turned into another heated makeout, that ended up with Lando positioned between her legs, their cores brushing together, as they slowly kissed in the calmness of their room.

“Wanna be inside you”, he mumbled, taking his cock once again and brushing the tip around his clit, making Y/N whimper.

"Please", she asked, making him push it inside her the next second. And even after all this time, YN still couldn't get over the feeling of having him stretching her in all sorts of good ways. And he was still surprised how they fitted like two puzzle pieces.

"So wet for me, baby. I prepared you well", Lando praised, smiling at the work he had done earlier. "I can go in so easy on you, fuck”.

Y/N refused to get away from Lando tonight, even though they always loved to try new positions. She just wanted to be close to him, be able to see his fare from up close, lean up and kiss him. She hugged his body and dug her fingers on the skin of his back, scratching him up.

“You feeling good, baby? Talk to me. What do you want?”, Lando asked and Y/N had to control her breathing to be able to talk to him.

"Harder, please", she put one of her hands between her legs to stimulate her clit, trying to chase her high once again. He caught her action and substituted her hand with his, picking up his pace.

"Holy fuck, you feel so good", he moaned. "God, I'm so lucky”.

"The luckiest", she smiled at him, loving to see him from that angle, eyes shut in pleasure and solely focusing on her body. The coat of sweat over his body and the flexing of his arms as he held her tightly only made him even more beautiful. She was so lucky too.

"I'm close", he announced, but even though Y/N was feeling great, she still wasn't close to her high.

"Switch", she asked, making Lando frown and drop his pace.

"What?”

"Switch positions, please”.

Lando likes to be on top, in control all the time, and so far, he has always been the one in control When he was with Y/N. Still, when she asked for this change, he didn't complain. Trying new things with her is always amazing.

And to be fair, he got on the verge of cumming when he saw her on top of him, now calling the shots, working on the pace that was best for her. Lando got a grip on her ass to help her steady and one of his hands helped stimulate her clit once again.

"Now I'm close. Are you close, baby?”, she asked, but all Lando could do was nod and moan her name.

It didn't take long until they reached their high and Y/N collapsed on top of him. Lando felt his cock going soft while still inside her, but they were too tired to move. She pressed a few tired kisses on his chest, making him smile at the gesture. It made his stomach fill with butterflies, like she has always done since they met.

"If a victory sex is amazing, I can only imagine what a championship sex will feel like", he said, making her chuckle.

"Absolutely amazing", she said. "So you better get that trophy for us”

"Don't know if I can do that, Y/N", he admitted. “I’m scared this might be my only chance and that I'm wasting it away, throwing victories like this on the trash. And that, in the future, I won't have the same opportunity once again”.

"Don't let these thoughts get to you, cause I know you're doing your best. And if you end up second place in the championship, it's alright too. I will love you no matter what. And we'll have an amazing vice championship sex in a nice hotel room in Abu Dhabi".

He smiled fondly at her response and started his aftercare routine immediately after, putting her in the shower, because they were a mess, while he changed the bed into spare sheets, so they could sleep somewhere clean. Soon he joined her on their quick shower, only to get back to bed once again to rest from their full day.

"I love you so much", he said, now that they were back to cuddling in bed. “You make me the happiest. I'm so lucky to have you in my life”.

"I love you too, baby. I love you and your random confessions of love", she kissed the tip of his nose, making his heart rush. "I love everything about you”.

"Even my flaws?”

"Even your flaws. And I'll be here with you until the end".

"Come on, baby. Let uncle Lando carry you”.

Olivia was sitting in the back of his car, sleepy to be woken up from her afternoon nappie before the race and not really in the mood to be around the paddock today. Sometimes, Y/N thinks she’s too much like Lando, who also absolutely hates to be woken up from his naps. It didn’t matter if they were, finally, in Abu Dhabi, anticipating not only their first December as a family, but also Norris’ great chances of winning the championship, to which he had managed to drag to the last race.

He wanted Ollie to be there for this one. Actually, his entire family was there to celebrate it with him; his siblings and nieces – who were all having a great time with Olivia –, his parents, his best friends; and, most importantly, both of the loves of his life, who have been his biggest support throughout the year.

Lando carried his goddaughter through the paddock, as she continued her nap on his shoulder. Y/N walked beside them, no longer scared of what the public would think. Even since their hard launching in Zandvoort, his fans have been nothing but supportive for their relationship. Who truly was his fan knew how much she and her daughter meant to him, so they defended the couple from any harm.

Also, Y/N stood beside him because she knew today would be a hard day. The championship was still at stake, and Lando would need all the support he could get from her. Since yesterday, when he got the last pole position of the season, he hasn't let go off her hand for a second; not even now, that they still had a long walk through the paddock with him carrying Ollie on his arm. Last night, they all cuddled together in bed, only for him to wake up surrounded by his favourite people.

“You good?”, Y/N asked once they were in his driver's room. Flo, one of his sisters, was there as well and would be keeping an eye on Ollie while they did their respective jobs on track.

“Yes”, Lando smiled at her. “I thought I would be more terrified and nervous, but I'm actually alright. Whatever has to happen, will happen”.

“That’s my boy”, Y/N pulled him for a kiss on the cheek, making him blush with the gesture. “Flo, are you alright here with Ollie? I promise she won't be out for long, and if she is, you can wake her up and go to the garage”.

“Don't worry about it, Y/N. Go do your jobs and I'll take care of my niece”, Flo winked at Lando, who blushed harder at the nickname, feeling a tingle of pride on his chest. Every reminder that he had the girl of his dreams beside him was enough to make him giggly like a little boy.

“Then off we go to those interviews, my boy”.

Lando had only a few pre-race interviews and media duties before getting to concentrate on the race. After that, he solely focused on getting calm, knowing everything about tonight was under his control.

“Someone wants to see you before you get in the car”, Cisca announced, entering the garage where her son was talking to his engineers, with Olivia in her arms. His eyes softened to see her, with a beautiful smile on his face.

“Good luck, uncle Lando”, she leaned into his arms and he easily got a grip of her tiny body, pulling her for a hug. He felt her lips pressing over and over again on his cheek, and he felt his eyes brimming with tears of happiness.

“Thank you. I love you so much, my sweet girl”, his voice bargained on his throat, but he was strong enough to contain his emotions.

Y/N was just passing through the garage when she saw the scene unfolding in front of her, so she rushed to join their hug, making Ollie giggle. Lando pulled his girlfriend for a sweet kiss as she smiled against his lips.

“Baby, I love you so much”, she said. “And I'll be cheering as much as I can with this little one right here”.

“I'm glad to have you both here. Tonight is a little more special because I have my entire family here. Nothing could ever beat this feeling”.

“Don't get emotional now, you wanker. Get in that car and make us proud!”, Y/N joked, making Lando laugh.

“I’ll be back in the blink of an eye. Hopefully with two trophies for us”, he pressed another kiss to Y/N's lips and one more on Ollie's forehead before giving the little girl back to her mother. “I love you”.

“I love you too, uncle Lan”.

Y/N could barely breathe once Lando was inside the car. She held tightly onto Olivia, who seemed to get the tense mood, not being the giggly and excited self whenever she was on a race track. But Norris did well, held his pole position perfectly, but it was still challenging for him to keep it throughout the race. Yet, on the last lap, he had an eight-second gap from P2 and was first to see the checkered flag. P1 – and fastest lap, as a bonus.

Lando Norris is a World Champion.

Y/N had been crying for the last ten laps of the race, knowing deep inside her that he was going to do this. The perfect race to end the perfect year. Olivia raised her spirits through the race as well, shouting for Lando and excitedly clapping her hands, jumping up and down, whenever he did good. Domination, from beginning to the end. What a way to win a championship.

Lando shouted a lot on the radio and celebrated it a lot when he was out of the car. But he only allowed himself to cry when he finally saw Y/N, crying at his achievement, clearly very emotional with the ending of the year. So many years battling for this moment, and yet here they are. It’s impossible not to get emotional at this.

He held very tightly onto his girlfriend as they silently cried together, too emotional to even think about speaking. Y/N was the first one to break the silence, making Lando cry even more, dawning on him the achievement he just conquered.

“Congratulations, World Champion Lando Norris”, she whispered in his ear. “You finally did”.

“We finally did it”, he corrected, pulling back from the hug and holding her face between his hands. “We. I couldn’t have done it without you”.

“I love you so much”, she declared, pulling him for a kiss on the cheek, that made him smile widely. “I’m so proud of you, my love. You deserve all of this, all this glory, everything”.

“So do you”, he pecked her lips for a brief second and smile. “I love you too”.

“Uncle Lando!”, a little voice called from behind them, and Olivia was rushing towards him with Max right behind her, not getting to keep their hands together as they walked through the crowd. Lando immediately extended his arms to pull Ollie from behind the fence to hug him. “You won!”

“I won, baby girl. Did you see it? Uncle Lan did this for you”, he bumped her nose, making her smile. Ollie whipped away his tears to give him a kiss. “I love you, my sweet girl. I’m so glad you were here to see me win”.

“I love you too”.

Lando pulled Y/N closer so they could share a group hug and never felt so at peace. This year, he got everything he ever wished for: a family of his own and the glory of being a Formula 1 World Champion. Life couldn’t get any better than this, he knew it couldn’t. If he died tomorrow, he knew he would go happily, knowing he achieved everything he ever wanted in life.

“You need to go to the podium”, Y/N whispered in his ear, but he didn’t dare to move a muscle. “Lando, they are going to get me killed”.

“Shut up, just a second longer”, he buried his face in her neck, making her shiver in contact with his breathing on her skin. “I think I earned the privilege of having a few more seconds with my family right now”.

But Lando was soon dragged to the podium, not before he hugged his parents, siblings and friends though. Lucky enough, they got to postpone the ceremony for a few minutes, just so he could meet everyone that mattered before the podium. Eventually, he had to go get his trophy. And while he was standing on the top step of the podium, watching the crowd cheer for his first championship, he wondered what the next challenge would be. More wins? A second championship?

“Now, what?”, he whispered to himself.

Once glance at Y/N and Olivia, right on the ground, filming him as the British National Anthem played in the background, he knew what the future reserved for him. And he already enjoyed it.

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

𝒔𝒐𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒂 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 . 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris series #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfiction #ln4 #ln4 x you #ln4 x y/n #ln4 x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut

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livvymd · 2 days ago

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Everyone Thinks They’re Dating—They’re Not. (Yet)

Chapter Two — Not a Date (But Maybe It Is.) george clarke x reader.

Y/N groaned as her ringtone buzzed sharply through the stillness of her room.

She blindly reached for her phone on the bedside table, knocking over a nearly empty glass of water in the process. “Shit,” she muttered, dragging the phone toward her.

Her eyes barely adjusted to the light when she saw the name flashing across the screen.

Incoming FaceTime Call — George Clarke 🍻

She blinked.

Then blinked again.

Was this a mistake? Maybe he butt-dialled her?

She stared at the screen like it might give her an answer—but it just kept buzzing, insistent and cheerful, like of course George Clarke would FaceTime her before 10am after a night out.

Her heart thumped in a weirdly alert way, completely mismatched with how dead she felt physically.

She let it ring once more. Twice. Then sighed and hit “accept.”

The screen flipped to reveal George, all annoyingly handsome with sleepy curls and a smug half-grin, holding a mug of tea like he’d just walked off the cover of a Sunday morning lifestyle shoot.

“Good morning, poppet,” he said, far too cheery.

Y/N winced at the brightness behind him, rubbing her face. “You’re disgusting.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Why are you awake?” she groaned, flopping back against the pillows. “And more importantly, why are you FaceTiming me at—” she glanced at the time, “—9:47am like an unhinged person?”

George took a sip of his tea. “Woke up early. Didn’t feel like texting. Wanted to see how rough you looked after pub golf.”

“Well,” she muttered, dragging her blanket over half her face, “mission accomplished.”

He chuckled. “You actually look better than I expected.”

“You’re a menace.”

“You answered though.”

She hesitated, then shrugged. “Curiosity. Or delusion. Could be either.”

“You were definitely snoring when I called.”

“I don’t snore,” she said quickly, pointing a finger at the screen. “Take that back.”

“Alright, alright,” he smirked. “Probably just heavy breathing. Dramatic stuff.”

She narrowed her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “You’re unreal.”

George raised an eyebrow. “You said that like it’s a bad thing.”

She exhaled slowly, dragging herself upright and pushing her hair out of her face. “I need tea if I’m gonna tolerate this conversation.”

“You’re on a FaceTime hangover call with me, and tea is your concern?”

“I’m British, George. There are rules.”

He grinned and leaned his phone against something, giving her a view of his kitchen while he pottered about. She did the same, propping up her phone on a cereal box as she shuffled to boil the kettle. Somehow, the call didn’t drop. Neither of them made a move to end it.

“So,” she said while dunking a tea bag lazily, “how do you feel? Post-pub golf?”

“Surprisingly okay,” George replied. “Although Chip owes me £20 because he swore I’d tap out after hole seven.”

She laughed. “You were suspiciously good at it. I feel like this isn’t your first time.”

“I’m not saying I’ve trained, but I’m not not saying that either.”

“Dangerous,” she grinned, wrapping her hands around her mug. “You’re the dark horse of the group.”

“Don’t tell Chris. He’ll make it a bit.”

They fell into easy conversation after that, swapping blurry memories from the night before, laughing about Arthur Hill getting heckled by a passing hen party, and rewatching part of Chris’s Instagram story where Y/N and George could be seen fake-flirting across a beer pong table.

“Oh my god,” she groaned, watching it again, “I look like I was in love with you.”

“You were,” George teased. “I was irresistible. You said I had ‘surprisingly kind eyes.’”

“I what?” she choked on her tea.

“Don’t worry,” he said, grinning wickedly. “I’ve got witnesses.”

“Oh, piss off—”

“Nah, sorry. Too late. I’ve written it down. Gonna frame it.”

Y/N hid her face behind her mug, laughing. “God, I’m never drinking with you lot again.”

“You say that,” he murmured, softer now. “But you didn’t seem like you hated it.”

She glanced back at the screen, heart giving a traitorous skip. “No,” she admitted. “Didn’t hate it.”

They paused. Just long enough for the silence to feel meaningful.

Then George cleared his throat, scratching his neck. “You know, if you ever wanted to hang out... not during filming or in a pub full of forfeits and camera angles...”

Her eyebrows raised slightly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Like, just us. No games. No chaos. I think we’d get on alright.”

Y/N tilted her head, teasing, “Are you asking me out, George Clarke?”

He raised both hands. “Not officially. Not yet. I’m asking if you’d want to get coffee or something. I mean, we’ve technically had breakfast together now, so it’s only fair.”

She bit her lip, then nodded slowly. “Alright. Coffee sounds nice.”

A smile flickered across his face, warm and boyish and just a little bit smug. “Cool. I’ll text you about it.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“You better.”

They ended up staying on the call for nearly three hours.

It wasn’t on purpose—there was just always another tangent, another laugh, another “Wait, before we hang up—” excuse to stay. By the time Y/N finally ended the call, her cheeks were sore from smiling and her heart felt oddly light.

As soon as the screen went black, her phone lit up again.

George Clarke 🍻 You still look good with bed hair, by the way.

She stared at the text, grinning like an idiot, and typed back:

Y/N: You’re full of shit.

George Clarke 🍻 You love it.

And maybe... she did.

TAGLIST @sundarksposts @tyna-19 @wherethezoes-at

just send a comment to be added to the taglist x

#george clarke x you #george clarke fluff #george clarke smut #george clarke x reader #george clarke imagine #sidemen #arthur frederick #george clarke fics #arthurtv #uk youtubers #italianbach #george clarkey #arthur hill

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shiftgolf · 6 months ago

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Mastering Lag in Your Golf Swing: Unlock Effortless Power and Precision

Introduction: Why Lag Matters in Golf:

In golf, the concept of "lag" refers to the angle between your lead arm and the golf club shaft during your downswing. While it may sound like a small technical detail, lag is crucial to unlocking speed, power, and precision in your swing. The best professional golfers seem to effortlessly launch the ball down the fairway, and a major factor behind this ease is their ability to generate and maintain lag. But for many amateur golfers, lag is a misunderstood and underutilized element of their game.

So, what exactly is lag, and why should it be part of your swing? the importance of lag, how it works, and how you can incorporate it into your game to see significant improvements in both distance and accuracy.

1. The Basics of Lag: What Is It and How Does It Work?

Lag in the golf swing refers to the angle between your lead arm (typically the left arm for right-handed players) and the shaft of the club. As you transition from your backswing into your downswing, the lag is the point where the club trails behind your hands, storing potential energy. The more efficiently you can maintain this angle during the downswing and release it at impact, the more clubhead speed you can generate without additional effort.

Think of it like a whip: the lag is the tension in the whip, and the release of that tension generates the snap. In a golf swing, lag creates this "snap" right as the club strikes the ball, resulting in greater speed and power.

They create speed with their arms, or body, or some combination of both.

Are those good enough ways to play high level golf? Are those ways going to protect your body from injury, forcing you to miss next week’s tee time?

All golf professionals worth their salt have a simple answer to that. No.

Creating lag is the most efficient way to create speed and distance during your golf swing. And every other method isn’t close.

2. Lag Creates Effortless Speed and Distance:

Amateur golfers often believe that more distance can only be achieved by swinging harder. However, this isn’t entirely true. The pros don’t rely on brute force to drive the ball 300 yards. Instead, they use lag to generate clubhead speed, which is the key to distance.

When you maintain lag during your downswing and release it at just the right moment—right before impact—you create a burst of speed at the perfect time. This allows you to hit the ball farther without forcing your arms or body to work harder. Without lag, players often resort to pulling their arms down or excessively rotating their bodies to create speed, both of which are inefficient and can lead to injuries.

For example, golfers without lag might struggle to hit drives beyond 200 yards. However, with proper lag, they could easily add 20-30 yards to their drives without swinging any harder.

3. Lag and Its Impact on Swing Plane and Mechanics:

One of the hidden benefits of lag is how it naturally improves your swing plane. When you maintain the angle between your lead arm and the club during the downswing, the club tends to shallow out, meaning it drops into a more optimal position to attack the ball from the inside. This is a crucial element of good ball-striking, as it leads to better contact and more consistent shots.

Lag also ensures that your body and arms are working in sync, which helps avoid common swing flaws like "casting." Casting is when a golfer releases the angle between the lead arm and club too early in the downswing, losing both power and control.

When a player learns to keep lag until the last possible moment, their casting issues disappear, and the swing becomes more efficient and consistent.

Symptoms of Casting:

Weak, short shots

Difficulty getting the ball in the air

A tendency to push or pull the ball

Fixing Casting with Lag:

Maintain a strong wrist hinge

Focus on a smooth transition from backswing to downswing

Let the angle "hold" until right before impact

4. Lag Improves Tempo and Swing Rhythm:

Many amateur golfers struggle with the tempo of their swings. The common mistake is rushing from the top of the backswing into the downswing, often by yanking the arms down too quickly. This leads to poor rhythm and timing, which results in inconsistent ball-striking.

Lag forces you to slow down the transition between your backswing and downswing, creating a more fluid and rhythmic swing. By holding onto that angle, you naturally develop better tempo, which helps to synchronize your body and arms, leading to more controlled and accurate shots.

As a result, incorporating lag into your swing can improve both your consistency and the quality of your ball-striking.

Lag also has a huge added benefit, as it is a way to protect your body from injury. Lag is, in simple terms, the storing of power in your swing represented by the angle between your lead arm and club shaft. The release of this stored energy at the bottom of your swing/impact is how PGA TOUR players hit the ball so far seemingly effortlessly.

Throughout this article, we are going to cover several different benefits that lag possesses, and why you need to learn how to create it in your own golf swing.

Lag creates speed. When an amatuer golfer is able to store their lag during their downswing, they are then able to release this energy at the bottom, creating serious speed. When a player has no lag, they need to create this speed another way, whether it’s pulling the arms down or rotating your body at an unhealthy speed. Lag, and the release of it, allows a player to create effortless speed.

Lag creates a better swing plane. Lag is created by having loose wrist pressure throughout the swing, but most importantly, at the top and during transition. When done correctly, the clubhead and shaft will naturally shallow out, making it easier for the player to attack the ball from the inside. This is the obvious sign of a great swing plane.

Lag represents the complete opposite of one of the most common swing faults in amatuer golf. Casting. Casting is when the player loses the angle between their lead arm and golf club early in the downswing, making it very hard to create speed. If a player is able to maintain that angle early, and create lag, their casting swing fault will go away immediately.

Lag creates better tempo. Most amateur golfers create speed by pulling their arms down as hard as possible as soon as they reach the top of their swing. This action creates terrible tempo, and makes it very difficult to time up the arms with the rest of the body which is needed to hit quality golf shots. Because the speed created by efficient lag is effortless, the player won’t need to pull their arms anymore. This creates a better tempo in the swing.

Lag needs to better ball striking. Lag allows the player to hit down on the golf ball more consistently, meaning better shots. If a player is able to do this more often, their overall ball-striking will improve dramatically. Without lag, hitting down on the ball is very hard to do, without getting your entire body sliding to the lead side. Lag allows the player to stay centered over the ball, with better balance, and still hit down on the golf ball.

5. Lag Prevents Injuries and Prolongs Your Golfing Career:

One of the most overlooked benefits of maintaining lag is its potential to protect your body from injury. Many amateur golfers try to create power by using their muscles to force the club through the ball, putting unnecessary strain on their joints—especially the shoulders, elbows, and lower back. This "power through effort" approach can lead to injuries, particularly as golfers age.

Lag, on the other hand, allows you to generate speed through efficient mechanics, reducing the stress on your body. By maintaining proper angles and releasing energy at the right time, you can create powerful swings with less physical strain. This is especially important for golfers who want to stay healthy and continue playing the game for years to come.

6. Lag Leads to Better Ball-Striking and More Consistent Shots:

Good ball-striking is all about making solid, consistent contact with the golf ball. Lag helps with this by allowing the golfer to hit down on the ball more naturally, which compresses the ball and produces a more penetrating ball flight. This is particularly important for iron shots, where hitting down on the ball creates that crisp, clean strike that golfers strive for.

When you lose lag, it's much harder to make solid contact, as you’re more likely to "scoop" the ball or hit it with a glancing blow. Lag keeps you centered over the ball, ensuring better balance and more consistent strikes.

Without lag, golfers tend to struggle with fat shots (hitting the ground before the ball) or thin shots (hitting the top of the ball). By maintaining lag, you’ll find it easier to deliver the club with the correct downward strike, leading to better contact and more control.

7. How to Develop Lag in Your Golf Swing:

Now that you understand the benefits of lag, the question is: How do you develop it? Here are some practical tips to help you incorporate lag into your swing:

Relax Your Grip: A tight grip can prevent you from maintaining lag. Keep your grip pressure light, especially at the top of your backswing.

Focus on Wrist Hinge: Allow your wrists to hinge naturally as you complete your backswing. This sets up the angle for lag during the downswing.

Practice the Right Transition: The transition from your backswing to downswing is where lag is created. Avoid rushing this movement—allow your body to lead the downswing while your arms follow, maintaining the angle between your lead arm and the club.

Use Swing Aids: Training aids like the Lag Shot Swing Trainer can help you develop the feel for lag. These tools are designed to exaggerate the lag in your swing, teaching you how to maintain it consistently.

Drills for Lag: One effective drill is to practice swinging slowly, focusing on holding the angle between your lead arm and the club until the last possible moment. By slowing down, you can better control and feel the lag in your swing.

Conclusion: Mastering Lag to Unlock Your Golf Potential:

Lag is not just a technique reserved for professional golfers—it’s a fundamental aspect of an efficient, powerful golf swing. Whether you’re looking to add distance, improve accuracy, or protect your body from injury, learning to maintain lag is essential.

By understanding the role of lag and incorporating it into your swing, you’ll unlock new levels of speed and precision without having to force your shots. With practice and the right approach, you’ll soon find yourself hitting longer, straighter shots with more consistency and control. So the next time you’re on the course or driving range, focus on mastering lag—and watch as your game transforms for the better. Golf Swing Training Aid Lag Shot Driver Lag Shot Golf Driver Golf Swing Trainer.

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