#how am I supposed to just forgive her for that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lxnarphase · 8 months ago

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𓇼 FUCK HER, FLIP HER, BEND HER BACKWARDS !

❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : the church always says sex for pleasure is a sin, and nanami kento is a man of the lord. but fuck, if his wife isn't worth sinning for. wc: 4.3k

❤₊‧⁺...cw : n. kento x fem!reader, religious themes, traditionalist views on sex and marriage, loss of virginity, missionary to mating press, breeding kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, nanami loses himself in your pussy, slight cum play, dirty talk

❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : am i unintentionally coping with religious trauma? possibly but it is fun :33 anyways based of this! forgive me if my writing is a bit rusty, it's been a while but enjoy !!

the two of you have spoken about eventually having children many times, but knowing the steps it took...it kept you both pushing it back, knowing eventually you'd both be ready.

after speaking with doctors, asking for advice from the church, and having you grumble about the neighbors who welcomed a cute baby girl, the two of you figured it was time.

you did your best to act normal all dayl, trying not to seem to nervous or too excited as you went about your chores for the day.

it may just be an act to procreate, but...it's still your first time with nanami. you want it to at least feel special.

there was nothing in the bible that went against that, right?

well, you have plenty of time to overthink since it seems that your dear husband will be at work late. to pass the time, you wait upstairs in your shared bedroom, the TV on as a distraction.

you're so stuck in your own world that you don't even notice him in the doorway before he clears his throat, leaning in the doorway. "oh! hi, honey, welcome home!" you go to stand up, but he holds up a hand, making you stop before you can get up from the bed.

it's silent, aside from the noise from the TV, and you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation.

has...has he always looked that handsome?

he continues to stand by the door, still not making eye contact. "you said it...starts today, correct," nanami questions, focused on undoing the straps of his watch. it shouldn't be attractive, it's such a simple task...yet it has your stomach doing flips as you nod.

"mhm, my, uh...ovulation starts today." it's such a weird thing to say, it just makes everything feel so...clinical. but that's how it's supposed to be, right? those who use sex for pleasure instead of procreation are sinners, or whatever the reverend at the church says.

"mm."

slowly pulling it off, he sets the watch on the dresser before shutting the bedroom door

"good."

dear god in heaven, you think to yourself, struggling to swallow the saliva pooling inside your mouth as he starts to undress. please forgive me for such inappropriate thoughts about my husband.

he removes his suit jacket—black today, it seems—placing it carefully on his desk chair, followed by his cufflinks and tie. his shirt is next, each button popping to reveal his strong, well-maintained physique.

you have to stop yourself from pumping your fist in the air for getting so lucky with such an attractive man as your husband. too busy ogling him like a horny teenager, you miss him undoing his belt before tugging them down and stepping out of his boxers.

once you do realize he's fully undress, you blush hard once he approaches the end of the bed—it took everything out of you not to stare at that...monster hanging between his legs, dear lord—and climbs onto it, making his way to hover over you.

his eyes roam up and down your body, taking in the pretty silky night dress you had on. It’s a soft blue with lacy white trim with little intricate flower designs.

modest, yet sensual.

"this is new," he comments, voice low and sultry. you can't help but wonder if he meant to sound so...so...

you don't find the correct word for it, but this new tone lights a fire in your stomach that has your r thighs squeezing together just a little bit.

"well, i figured it was an important night...you know, finally popping our cherries a-and starting a family?"

it's a weak attempt at humor, your voice clearly giving away your nervousness. you just pray that he ignores it.

a soft hum leaves him, his fingers playing with the intricately designed lace trim. the idea that you want to make this whole ordeal special, that you want to give yourself to him wholly, and that you want to swell with his child...

it pleases him greatly, a small smile touching his lips.

"well, aren't you sweet, my dearest?"

such simple words, yet they relieve so much tension from your shoulders. you can't help but smile back before a little gasp falls from your lips when his hands start to lift the dress up. his hands, they're so big, so hot on your skin.

It's a struggle to remember that this is for the purpose of producing offspring and nothing else, but you try, you try so hard.

but when you hear the hitch in his breath at the realization you didn't have anything else underneath the dress after he pulls it over your head, it's hard to remember.

the thought just about completely leaves your mind at the way nanami, your usually put-together husband, looks so hungrily down at you, a look you've never seen before in those pretty hazel eyes.

his gaze lingers on your body for a moment, mouth opening before shutting instantly, preventing himself from saying something he'd likely regret.

calm down, kento, he reminds himself, taking a second to clear his mind. this is for the purpose of family, not sinful and carnal desires.

even so, he's drinking in the sight of you, unable to stop his hands from rubbing up and down your sides, the soft skin of you, his wife, warming his palms. all his.

"gorgeous," he mumbles, unaware he even said it.

the moment you feel his leaking cock brush against your leg, a thought occurs to you.

neither one of you has a single idea of how to do this.

sure, you both know enough about putting it inside and moving, but that was about it. is there something else you should do? things you should say, places you should touch to aid in the process?

they never explained the actual process of sex in church, and lord knows your mother and father would've keeled over and died instantly if you were to ask them.

'it comes naturally when god deems it your time' the reverend stated once during a sermon. you fight back a frown, realizing that man probably had even less of an idea of how to do it.

however, the feeling of his tip nudging against your slit rips a gasp out of you, bringing you back into the present.

"are you alright? you left me for a bit there," nanami asks, his brow furrowed in worry. if you weren't ready, he was willing to back off. he may want to fulfill this important aspect of marriage, but...not if you don't want it.

"n-no, i'm okay! just...wondering how all of this is going to work out," you softly reassure, giving a weak giggle.

he can't blame you, he isn't very sure either. but as the man of the house and as your husband, he didn't plan on letting you worry. he would do all the work, you just needed to lay there looking so pretty, so soft, so...he realizes he's doing it again, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn't.

"just...j-just relax, we will figure it out as we go along."

with your silent nod, nanami starts to push his hips forward, hissing silently when he realizes the wetness that greets him.

you were this aroused just from...talking?

the thought of scolding you for letting your mind wander crossed his own, but...it would be hypocritical when his cockhead is dribbling precum all over your soft mound.

you choke out a noise of pain when his cock finally notches onto you and starts to push inside. sure, your wetness helped get the tip and the few inches after it inside, but just that is already too much for you, and you're expected to take all of it?!

you do your best not to move, not really sure what you should be doing. you'd be a good wife and bear with the pain if you had to, your nails digging into the pillow under your head as you braced yourself for the rest of his cock.

but this is absolutely unbearable, how do other women bear with this and have 6 or more children?!

a flicker of concern flashes through nanami's eyes at the sound you made, and he stops moving forward. he may be a bit mean sometimes, but he wasn't cruel.

if you both are going to go through with this, he is not going to make you suffer and nor is he going to force you to endure a painful experience.

no true man of god would do such a thing.

"breathe, don't hold it in," he instructs, his voice somehow calm and collected. one of his hands laces with yours, hoping to provide some sort of comfort as his lips brush against your forehead. "i've got you, darling, the pain will pass, just...tell me to stop if it gets too bad. don't hold it in."

giving a soft nod, you try to match his breathing, your body relaxing and making it easier for nanami to slip the rest of himself inside, a near silent sigh escaping him. the tightness and initial resistance that greeted him nearly made him moan, his cock twitching violently inside of you.

something about the physical feeling and knowledge that you saved yourself for him like you promised years before you both got married sent a surge of possession and pride, knowing he has such a loving and faithful wife who is so willing to give herself up to him like this...he can only hope you feel the same knowing he saved himself for you and only you.

so, as a 'reward'—and totally not because he fears you'll strangle his cock off with how tight you are—he's so gracious to you, not moving to let you get used to the stretch and feel of him inside, the room silent except for your matching breathing.

a few moments go by, and you should feel embarrassed when you feel slick drip out of you and down your ass. the realization that your dearest husband, one of the most faithful men of the church, is letting his cock soak inside of your hot cunt makes you whine a little, slick walls fluttering around him.

he's so fucked.

"a-ah...i'm going to move now," he warns, taking your sudden noise as a good sign. nanami shifts his legs just a bit before giving an experimental thrust, his brow furrowing as he slowly finds a rhythm.

the feeling of your hot and gummy walls is absolutely intoxicating, divine, nothing he's ever felt before.

this is what it felt like?

this is what he waited for?

fuck, it felt...it felt so good.

too good.

for you, the pain completely melts away, and you silently thank god and the angels above for giving you a merciful husband who is so kind as to wait for you to loosen up around him.

little do you know, he would rather kill himself than start moving when you're still adjusting to the pain and stretch.

his gentle movements make you all but melt under him, your eyes fluttering at the unbelievable pleasure coursing through your veins.

no wonder your parents preached about saving yourself until marriage, and thank the heavens you listened.

the very thought of feeling this way with anyone but your kento puts a bad taste in your mouth.

meanwhile, nanami chants prayers in his head over and over again as he tries his best to focus on the 'true' purpose for this.

the sticky, wet, and gooey sensation of your plump cunt sucking him, practically weeping each time he pulls out is just unfair.

the poor man, he's fighting so hard to maintain his composure, to not succumb to the base instincts that those soft moans of yours are beginning to stir within him.

"s-shush, darling," he grits out, hips still following his slow, deep pace. "don't...don't make such noises," he all but pleads, voice tinged with a huskiness that betrayed his growing need for you.

“i-i’m sorry! just, it...feels good, y-you feel good, feels s-so good,” you whisper, hands coming up to cover your mouth and stifle those sickeningly sweet noises.

but of course, that isn’t enough because each push and pull of his cock stirs your drooling cunt, filling the room with wet, filthy squelching sounds.

nothing about this is holy, nanami thinks as he grits his teeth, hands fisting in the sheets next to your head.

look at her.

those soft, muffled noises are truly music to his ears, his pace morphing from the slow, deep grind into a faster pace as your soft body gives into the pleasure.

so wet, so damn tight around my cock., like she never wants to let me pull out.

"k-kento, y-you're goin' too deep, i-i can't be quiet, s'too much!"

messy little pussy, 's beggin' for cum, needs it, needs to feel my tip kissin' her cervix as i pump load after load into her womb.

he knows what that little voice is, and no matter how much he wants to claim that it’s the sound of demons pouring their sinful words into his mind, he knows that it's his thoughts, fueled by those dirty little noises that she can't hold back.

how pitiful, how sinful, doesn't she know she's going against all the teachings they've heard preached every weekend in their church?

doesn't she know she's giving into lust?

doesn't she know her pretty sounds are making his dick throb, painting her insides with his hot, gooey precum?

"hush, 'm not going to t-tell you again, you...you need to be quiet," he growls, the command lacking its earlier authority.

nanami also knows lying is a sin, and he's doing a damned lot of it right now as he tries to convince himself that you need to stay silent. after all, this—this is just a process of giving you both a child, just like you wanted, and nothing else.

but he's lying to himself.

he needs you to be quiet or else he'll lose it.

the poor man is barely holding onto his restraint, and these sweet noises pouring from your mouth aren't helping at all.

"y-you make this so difficult sometimes, my dear..." his voice is rough with need and desire, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. "but, by god, you're...you're. absolutely. exquisite."

he punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his hips into you in a way that has the coarse hair on his crotch to rub against your clit. the pleasure it gives you is electric, your legs coming up to squeeze his hips as you try to grind with him.

his words, his simple praise only makes you hiccup his name, crying out louder as your watery eyes roll back as your needy cunt squeezed down on his fat cock.

you're such a sweet thing, trying oh-so hard to mute your sounds. each snap of his hips is all but driving you insane.

“i-i can’t, ken, y-you don’t understand, i-it feels so good, i-i’m so full! you’re pressing against all the good spots, kentoo, i-i love you s' much, b-but i can't!”

be a good fucking husband and do what you were made to, nanami kento.

his teeth dig into his bottom lip, trying to hard to ignore that temptation purring in the back of his mind.

the voice is so much louder now, echoing throughout his mind and muting any prayers or pleads to be mindful of the sanctity of this whole process.

fuck her. give her what she needs, what she deserves.

but it's too fucking hard, he can't his hips are speeding up, his strong hands moving to grip your thighs, unaware of how they start to anchor behind your knees.

breed your pretty little wife and give her a baby like she deserves.

with a deep groan, nanami finally loses all control, fingers digging into your supple thighs to push them to your chest and practically folding you in half.

this new angle has him openly moaning like a dirty whore, allowing him to plunge even deeper into your tight, gummy walls, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each and every deep thrust.

"k-ken, kenny, k-ken," you sob, tears catching onto your lashes as your entire being is assaulted by the endless pleasure your husband is giving you. he doesn't even look like your kento anymore, his pupils blown so wide that you can barely see the ring of greens and brown of his iris.

"f-fuck. 's all your fault, you know that," he hisses, eyes narrowing as he weakly glares down at you. but you can see the hearts in his eyes as he gives in to the pleasure.

his dark eyes bore down into yours, the wet plap plap plap plap of his hips slamming into yours almost overpowering his voice. "if y-you just stayed quiet like i asked, w-we wouldn't be here."

a little spurt of wet gushes out of you, making his fall forward into the juncture of your neck with a groan at the dirty noise it makes,

"god, i-i can feel it, y'know? can feel this sticky pussy—such a dirty little pussy—makin' such a mess. saved it jus' for me, didn't you, baby? mmhm—fuckin' hell, 's tight—thank you god f' giving me such an angel of a wife." nanami is huffing nonsense against your neck, pounding into you with a force that has the bed creaking loudly.

if you weren't being fucked stupid, you would be worried he was about to break the bed.

"you can keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, b-but you jus' had to have the noisiest little cunt."

he's so mean, but it only serves to make you gush even more, the way juices pour out of you and only make the already filthy noises even nastier.

"she's talkin' to me, baby, y'hear it? i'm...i-i'm gonna breed you," he manages to whine into your ear, pulling away to press his sweaty forehead against yours.

his tongue, so pink and pretty—you want it in your mouth, want to taste it want to feel it against yours—runs over his top lip as he watches drool drip down the corner of your mouth while you nod brainlessly.

nanami's never felt so dirty, so unhinged, but it feels so right, feels so fucking good. he never wants to leave your pussy, never wants to pull out, this is where he belongs, buried deep inside you as his cock pumps load after load right into your tummy, giving you what you need, what you deserve.

"yeah? you want that? i'll give it to you, baby, promise, 'm gonna be a good husband a-and knock you up, gonna make you a mommy."

that has you keening, tears pouring down your cheeks at the pleasure it shoots up your spine. you know you're close, but it's different.

it feels different, feels too much, there's pressure you've never felt before from the few times you'd cave in and play with your puffy, swollen clit in the shower when you waited for nanami to get home from work to kiss you to sleep.

no, you feel like you are about to fucking explode. "ken, i-i can't, 'm gonna—s-something's coming," you try to warn, your hands fisting in his hair as you tug and tug and tug.

the pull of his hair makes him moan like a slut, it sounds so fucking good. his eyes are rolling back before he rushes to comfort you, pressing soft little open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

you don't need to fight it, you just need to give it to him, give him what he needs.

"shh, shh, don' cry, y' look t'pretty, honey. l-let it happen, cum for me, i've got you, angel, cum for me s-so i can fill you up," he coos, his hips growing erratic as he feels your silky walls starting to fluttering around him, feeling you teeter on the edge of release.

he shifts, just barely, just enough to better position himself to fuck deeper into you. but that slight movement has his cock smushing against something soft and spongy that makes you sob, growing softer and more pliant under him, and you know you are done for as all you can do is wail his name.

"please, pretty girl, cum for me, show me how good 'm making you feel, soak my cock, c'mon, you can do it."

with a loud mewl that nearly has nanami soaking your walls in cum, you dig your nails into his biceps as you finally, finally cum. and you're right, it is different, your cute pussy squirting and creaming all over his dick.

the poor man is choking back a whine, eyes wide in shock as your cunt just gushes slick everywhere, clenching around him like a vice as you cum.

your juices are soaking his cock and balls, splattering against his lower abdomen obscenely. the thought of making you do that again crosses his mind for a split moment before the need to fill you up for being so good overpowers any other thought.

not giving you a break, he continues his unforgiving fucking, ignoring your cries and pleads for him to slow down.

"nonono, shh, shh, shush, you can take it," he coos against your lips, no longer caring if this was sinning or not. all he could think about was the constant squeezing and spasming of your poor overstimulated slit that was milking him toward his orgasm.

you try to squirm away, but the way he has you folded in half has you unable to do anything but accept his stupidly deep thrusts that make you swear you can taste his cock in the back of your throat.

"t-tha's it." he's panting, slurring his words, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. it’s so wet, so messy now, but he can't find it in himself to care.

no, all he can think about as he looks down at you is how you'll have that angelic glow as you grow round with his baby, and everyone will know you're his, that he knocked you up, he pumped you full of his cum, that you're his you're his you're all fucking his—

"f-fuck, honey, i-i can't..." his hips stutter as he does his best to maintain his rhythm, but his own release is barreling down on him. his heavy balls are drawing up tight as they slap against your ass, your juices still pouring out and soaking all of him.

"'m gonna fill you up, 'm gonna pump this—this sinful little cunt f-full of m'cum, angel, gonna knock you up, gonna have you drippin' with me, g-gonna give you a fuckin' baby, shit—"

with a deep, guttural groan, nanami hisses your name as he buries himself as deep as possible, his hot tip kissing your cervix as thick, hot ropes of his potent cum pour right into your womb, hips grinding into you and giving little thrusts as you milk his cock weakly despite your overstimulation.

it's—it's so much, he's still cumming, how was all of this inside of him? you can practically feel it sloshing around inside of you, and you whimper when you feel it gush out around his now softening cock, dripping down your ass onto the bed.

a moment or two passes, and he sits up, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face and looking down at you.

oh.

you sweet thing, you're an absolute mess. you have tear streaks down your cheeks, your lips swollen from him unknowingly biting them between the little kisses he was giving you, a pretty sheen of sweat on you, and...

his eyes trail lower to where his dick is still nestled inside of you, and it takes everything in him to not accidentally thrust his hips a little bit.

it's a creamy, sticky mess, a mixture of his and your cum seeping out your poor, abused pussy.

"o-oh. sorry, my love. i'm...not quiet sure what happened there. i apologize for such...foul language," he mumurs, his hand stroking your hip. "'s okay," you softly coo back to him, your eyes fluttering shut as you try to catch your breath. "i-i liked it..."

but you quickly learn you've married both a man of god and a curious, insatiable bastard who can't help but drag his cum all over your pussy, quickly finding your clit. and the reaction you give him is one he decides he likes, your hips canting up as your soft, oversensitive walls squeeze around his cock again.

"k-kento, that's nasty!"

all you get in response is a grumbling noise in his chest as it takes you weakly slapping your hands against his chest to get his eyes to snap away from your gooey, creamy pussy.

clearing his throat, he looks down at you, that heated look slowly creeping back onto his face. "perhaps we...we should try once more. just to ensure it takes," he states, doing his best to show some semblance of dominance.

but it's impossible when his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, his pupils blown as he gazes down at your panting form like he's about to devour you whole.

"after all, a...a big family is what god wants from man and woman, right? so we...shouldn't delay and keep trying." his hand trails up your side before finding its way to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh.

his thumb experimentally rolled your nipple, and the way your body reacted, a soft gasp of his name...how is he supposed to explain the feeling he's getting in the confessional booth?

"y-yeah," he gulps, leaning his head down. you can feel his hot breath against your tit, and you swear you feel drool drip onto your breast. "w-we'll keep trying. jus' to make sure w-we do what the scripture asks."

may god forgive him for being such a fucking liar and a damned bad one at that.

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x you #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #˗ˏˋ ★ lxnarworks .ᐟ #[💳] kento .ᐟ

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mxrcurysb1tch · 2 months ago

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Astrology observations pt. VIII 🌚

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Here i am back from the dead hi!! As always, take what resonates and leave the rest! (Small Tw for mention of EDs )

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ I feel like I don’t do rising sign observations so much bc I don’t know anyone’s birth time (grrr) but I do know a few Virgo risings and they all have this extremely elegant put together vibe about them, seriously even their mess looks purposeful and neat. They also all look like models, they’re slender and usually on the taller side. Ie Bella Hadid.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Sagittarius Mars kind of scare me because these mfs can literally do anything without having to practice or train too hard. They could literally wake up tomorrow and run a marathon just for the hell of it just because they can without training. They have such an intense belief in their own physical capabilities that it all kind of works out for them. Depending on their other placements, they’re also usually good at a lot of different things and rarely doubt their capabilities.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Capricorn in the 6h (Leo rising) You guys have iron health. You literally never get sick. Likely to be healthy right into old age and have good genetics or just get better health with age which seems counterintuitive. You’re also likely to take your health very seriously. An example is my mum, she looks 10 years younger than her age because she has never drank or had any major health issues.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Pisces Mars keep getting hurt by those closest to them and are just too forgiving. It makes my heart sad truly. They might always blame themselves for conflicts too. With love, you guys need to learn to stand up for yourselves and don’t let people treat you like sh!t.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ I’ve noticed that people with Taurus & Scorpio intercepted tend to have issues with food and eating. People with this configuration often forget to eat or just don’t get that much pleasure out of it. I’m not really sure the reason (I suppose Taurus has to do with sensual pleasures and Scorpio is sometimes about restriction?) but they just aren’t all that bothered with food and they’re usually quite underweight for this reason. I wouldn’t say it’s necessarily always a full blown ED but I definitely think it’s something to watch out for. I also imagine, as with all interceptions, it could go to the other extreme and they could binge eat especially if they have personal placements in Taurus that are intercepted.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ The 8th house (talking about it again sorry not sorry. it’s fascinating) is not just about money and death. It’s about anything you inherit from your family line, although it is usually a burden or comes at a heavy price. Think generational curses, ancient trauma that you carry with you that was not even yours in the first place. It could be money you inherit from your family but that will usually come at some kind of cost. For example, you could be from a very wealthy family and be left a lot but maybe they were never warm, loving or accepting of you. That’s the price you pay for the money you did not earn. The 8h is never about choice. You don’t get a say in the matter. The wounds were there before you were even conceived and you have no other option but to bear their burden. It seems unfair, but what it does give you is extraordinary power if you know how to work with it and invest. Investment is the key with this house, whether it be money or transmuting pain into something great.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ mercury opposite mercury in synastry is exhausting imo. Everyone says it’s square you should watch out for but nah. You guys just don’t understand each other, and it comes off as a really judgemental vibe. For instance, As a Leo Mercury every time I meet an Aquarius Mercury I feel super on edge because I feel judged for being “too dramatic”. At the same time, I am constantly questioning how they can be so cool, calm and collected at all times… it’s okay to freak out over minor issues from time to time, it’s fun!

#astrology #astroblr #astrology signs #astrology community #astrology observations #astro placements

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aestatismors · 2 years ago

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I'm just going to post the summary vent as I write things out

#I was a child She was an adult yet it's my fault for not coming to her when she wanted to spend time with me #lying about the fact that you wanted me and saying that my dad didn't #when he didn't want kids and didn't know if I belong to him? and also believed I would be better with anyone else #I'm sorry am I supposed to feel love towards you?#apologizing that you don't do hugs??? when I literally told you I didn't like hugs and you told me to get the fuck over it #also what the fuck have you ever done for me #her apology includes “You see a lot of things the wrong way”#at that point just flat out go I'm sorry it's your fault #“once you think something there's no changing how you think”#funny you can't give me a reason you hate your sister other than the fact that she's out to get you and always has been #She also has never forgiven anyone for anything #also I'm very open about the fact that I'm not very forgiving after a certain point at all #I literally sat down and told my parents to their face that their children do not have to respect them #And yet it's a fucking surprise that after being neglected I don't respect her?#also we have tried to explaining things to her and she'll agree that it makes sense and then circle back to her original argument #also it sounds like she thinks I'm upset about something about separating from my dad that she didn't really do #like we are way past the point of me caring about how sick you are from your meds #that is not even relevant #like oh you weren't around You don't know #I don't fucking care #we were complaining about her not having a job because she was living on her own could have a job and wanted us to support her entirely #and was also still having my dad support her until he killed himself #You could have had a job 19 years before that and refused because then you couldn't complain #And then to end it with I want things to be better between us #I told you months ago I don't want a relationship with you #I understand that you went back on all your words #I didn't #I meant what I fucking said

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lovscb97 · 7 months ago

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tags: nerd!chan x cheerleader!fem!reader, angst angst angst, mentions of jealousy and self doubt, inner turmoil on y/n’s side (forgive my girl she’s trying her best), mentions of other idols (enhypen, aespa, stayc, etc), alcohol usage, more angst…, slight inclusion of depressive feelings and thoughts, confrontation, arguments, confessions, kissing, fluff, brief grinding/dry humping, oral (m. receiving), brief throat fucking, car sex, mentions of virginity loss, unprotected sex (plz don’t i beg), creampie, just sweet lovemaking, use of nicknames (baby, channie, pretty girl, etc), chan being a sweetheart (when is he not), etc

wc: 15.76k

add. notes: it is finally here!!! the long awaited pt. 2 of nerd!chan!!! thank u guys so much once more for all the love u gave to the first part i did Not expect it to gain that much traction to the point u guys wanted me to expand on the universe of it but i am grateful nonetheless <3 i’m also very sorry it took so long i just could not bring myself to write the whole thing in one sitting as it is decently long so thank u sm for waiting as well.. this fic is honestly my baby n while it was very frustrating to work on at times, i hope u all enjoy it n will give it lots of love for me :]

nerd!chan pt. 1 / nerd!chan headcannons / drabble #1

. . .

it’s been a few days since you last saw chan after your “encounter” in the locker room. granted how that might be primarily because you’ve been avoiding him like the plague ever since, but you suppose he also hasn’t done much to try and meet you. you’re not even sure why you’re doing this, and if you’re being honest, some part of it leaves a sense of dread lingering at the back of your mind, your thoughts swirling with what if’s that consist of wondering if he’s finally had enough after the way you walked out on him the previous time you guys were, err.. entangled, to say the least. but, you know; you know you’re not at liberty to feel this way, not when you’re the one who’s imposed these rules on yourself and whatever means of a relationship you’ve both got going on. it’s not your right to police how chan acts around you after you constantly push him away. you think it probably never was to begin with.

regardless of the consequences that you’ve reaped, you decided to forego the situation you’re stuck in and throw yourself into the one solution that always seems to find you when you’re rock bottom in the barrel— alcohol. your cheer girls had tried dragging you out once more to another party thrown by some guy called jake, and initially you’d declined, far too stuck in your own negativity to even consider going out and letting loose at this point, but karina insisted on you tagging along, practically yanking you to you guys’ shared dorm room and dolling you up in the cutest outfit possible that had even your low spirits lifting.

that is, until now.

you’d both arrived to the occasion half an hour prior to the incident, your friend basically pulling you in behind her and forcing you to socialise with people she knew even if all you contributed to the discussion was a small smile and greeting. however, at some point, you lose sight of her. it doesn’t alarm you much considering karina goes around on her own to do her thing a lot, so assuming she must be busy chatting it up with some guy, you shrug and make your way towards the kitchen to fix yourself a drink. and it’s when you’re in the middle of tossing back the red solo cup filled with bitter liquid and letting it burn as it goes down your throat, wincing despite the tinge of sweetness to it when it happens, no less when you see it—

chan.

but, not just chan, no no.

chan with another girl.

it’s immediate the way your hand which is gripping the beverage in it tightens on instinct, and you feel a surge of emotion wash over you that you can’t identify, or rather you don’t want to identify it. arrays of questions swirl in your mind at the sight in front of you, ranging from ‘what is he doing here after claiming he hates parties?’ to ‘did they come together?’. the last of your queries almost makes you want to throw up, the plausibility that chan was invited here by another woman leaving bile forming at the back of your throat. still, you pause momentarily to consider the possibility that this is a mere coincidence, that you’re just misunderstanding the scene playing out in front of you and that this is all a big joke and chan is going to turn around to leave at any point now.

but, then your eyes land on the way she caresses his arm, batting her eyelashes up at him and watching the way her actions cause his ears to tint red, the very same ears you’ve been responsible for making blush every occasion that you find yourselves together. and suddenly, it’s like everything in your world is spinning. the floor seems to be moving, the music fading out and everyone passing around becomes a blur, because your only focus is on chan.

your chan. your chan who isn’t yours.

it’s like he senses you looking at him too, because he stops mid-sentence out of the blue and turns his head in your direction, leaving your gazes to lock with each other’s. it has his eyes widening, and you don’t know whether that’s from simply seeing you or seeing the fact that you’re standing in the middle of the kitchen alone with trembling hands you hadn’t even noticed were shaking. you try so desperately to look away, to avert your stare from his brown orbs that seem to be swirling with something you can’t quite put your finger on, but it doesn’t work. he’s so.. captivating, dressed in casual clothes and his signature glasses that remain perched on the tip of his nose, the same nose you’ve kissed so many times in your heated state of affairs. you’ve always known chan is beautiful, though you’ve never admitted it, but something about today solidifies it in your mind even more, makes him look ever so mesmerising, ever so alluring, and ever so.. distant.

you feel like someone has dumped a cold bucket of water on top of your head when the last word resonates in your mind, and you somehow rip your eyes off of the boy standing across the room to avoid impulsively doing something you might regret, instead opting to go look for your friends. a cacophony of taunts torment your brain as you busy yourself in the futile task, varying from insults thrown against you for being so stupid to think this could ever work out to questions about why you’re doing this even if you don’t know the response to them, or rather you do but don’t want to answer them. you don’t know whether chan is still looking at or for you, and some sick, twisted part of you wishes he is, wishes that he’s so wrecked by the idea that he’s hurt you even though you have no right to feel that way.

allowing yourself one last glance to where he was previously situated to satisfy the lingering emotions inside, you turn around, confused when you don’t find him there until a loud voice calls out for him throughout the booming of the music in the room, making your head snap in its direction. it belongs to who you presume is his friend, changbin or whatever you recall from a study session turned to a late night conversation chan had initiated to get to know you better. he’s yelling something incoherent that you can’t make out through the noise levels of the house, and you’re about to shake your head and resume your previous activity when you notice chan being dragged onto the dance floor, no less by the girl who you’d found talking to him.

your heart instantly sinks into your chest at the picture in front of you, burning against your ribcage as the pounding in your head increases by the minute. chan’s smile is radiant, spread wide across his face as he tries to awkwardly mimic the gestures being made by everyone around him. if you were in a different predicament, you would’ve found it endearing regardless of whether you would’ve let yourself relish in that realisation or not internally, but right now, all you can focus on is the fact that it’s not you. it’s not you who’s making him laugh so bright, it’s not you who’s dragging your hands across his to place them on your waist, and it’s not you who’s captivated his attention in the moment, even if you so desperately wish it was.

“y/n?”

a voice drags you out of your mind, and you shake your head to find karina looking at you in worry, her hand coming up to gently place itself on your shoulder. she questions if you’re okay a second later, and you muster up a smile the best you can and nod, despite the churning in your stomach only growing worse at the existence of what you’d just witnessed a few meters away from you. “what’s up?” you decide to ask your friend instead, sensing the way she doesn’t seem to buy your response reassuring her you’re fine, but even so, she decides not to push you, instead pursing her lips and pointing her thumb behind her.

“heeseung and his friends are going to play a round of beer pong. wanna join them?” the last thing you want to do is indulge with other people, instead wishing you were cooped up under your blanket to wallow in your self misery all alone, but the way karina looks back at you with distress in her eyes, her pretty face contorted in concern for you only pushes you to put up a front, not wanting to alarm her any further. “yeah, let’s go. i wanna get wasted.” you grin with everything in you, and it seems to be enough with the way your friend beams back at you, taking your hand in hers before whisking you away to wherever the game is taking place. you still cast one last glance back behind your shoulder before she drags you away though, hoping to catch sight of chan once more, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

you think maybe that’s best for now.

. . .

it’s one in the afternoon when you wake up the next day, a dull throbbing present in your head as you clutch it with one hand, groggy eyes attempting to adjust to the light streaming through the barely drawn curtains of your dorm room. you slowly sit up and lean back against the pillow underneath that’s probably caught remnants of your makeup on it after last night, especially considering the fact that you hadn’t even bothered taking off the outfit you wore yesterday before crashing out in bed. giving yourself some time to get used to your every day surroundings, you take a peek over to the other side, noticing karina’s bed to be empty. she’d probably gone for classes, you think to yourself, cursing when you realise you had most definitely missed your own.

grabbing your phone off the nightstand, you unlock it, ready to shoot a text to your friends asking for any notes they’d taken in the lecture, only to find the messaging app already open. you scroll through your group chats in confusion, flicking through the several photos or videos people had taken and shared in hopes of remembering why you’d even left off on this. it wasn’t like you’d sent any embarrassing messages in them, the only evidence of your own responses being from two days ago. you try rack your brain for the last possible memory of last night, recalling yourself stumbling through the door and into bed, drinking with sieun and sunghoon during the game before that, and then opening your phone to record drunken voice notes to send to—

oh fuck.

“no, no, no, no, no, please.” you mumble to yourself in panic, eyes widening with horror as you frantically swipe out of the group chat threads and check your last sent texts. you flick furiously through the notifications in your phone, trying to find the one chat you’re looking for until the name you’re searching pops up. you close your eyes, covering your screen to try and calm down your nerves, praying to whatever entity is up there that your memory is mistaken and that you indeed did not do what you think you did. after a short minute, you take a deep breath, cracking your vision open as your fingers twitch. you hesitantly move your thumb that’s blocking your desired end goal out of the way to take a look at last, and—

“shit!” you swear with a yell, tossing your phone aside in favour of cupping your face in your hands and screaming into them out of frustration. you hadn’t even bothered to listen to the voice notes knowing they’d just consist of spewed gibberish the same as the texts, and ultimately what makes this entire ordeal all the more worse is chan’s lack of a reply. rather, he’d left you on seen, the realisation of it dawning on you as you flop back in bed and roll to the side to curl yourself up into a ball as if it’d provide some sort of comfort, mindless thoughts rushing into your brain at the very same.

what does chan think of you now? what did he think of you when he got those texts? was he annoyed? did he want to cut you off forever and finally drop you for good? maybe he laughed about your pathetic attempts to gain back his attention with the girl you’d seen him with yesterday. the idea only makes you want to throw up, although you can’t tell if it’s because of that or your splitting hangover. so, in an effort to drown in your self pity anyways, you yank the covers of your blanket over your head, trying to lull yourself back to sleep now that you’ve already missed out on your attendance.

unfortunately, your attempts don’t last long, the device you’d flung to the edge of your bed ringing with your roommate’s call shortly after in which she scolds you for still not having woken up. you bite back the answer that threatens to escape you when she proceeds to go on a tangent on how this is probably because you’ve been looking so dull lately, not having it in yourself to open up to your closest friend about the fact that you’ve secretly suppressed all your innermost feelings about somebody outside your social circe in fear they’d rise to the surface and force you to do things you’d never do sober.

karina eventually ends her rant with urging you to come to the building at least to meet up for lunch, convincing you in your very much hungover state that you need something in your stomach, to which you begrudgingly agree. dragging yourself out of bed to put on some simple clothes and trudging outside the door in all your miserable glory is a task in itself, but you manage somehow. you can’t help but grumble to yourself as you parade the halls of the student accommodation with only one goal in mind— avoid chan at all cost.

fate, however, is not on your side, it seems.

because the minute you step out and about underneath the midday sun, your eyes fixated on the cobblestone path underneath your feet which leads to the university buildings located right outside the student housing, you stop dead in your tracks, stumbling upon a certain scene—

the certain scene in question being chan with his very same arm candy from yesterday.

your breath hitches in your throat at the sight, and it’s like you’re glued to the ground, unmoving as if you’ve turned static and become bound to the floor. chan doesn’t seem to have noticed you yet from your spot that’s metres away from him, too busy focusing on conversing with the girl to even look up and catch his surroundings. you wonder if that’s because she’s his girlfriend, or someone he’s interested in given the fact that he seems so engaged with her and how you’ve caught them together so many times by now (twice, actually, but in your head it seems like a much bigger number), and in all honesty, that just makes everything all the more worse.

you don’t even understand why you’re so upset about this. you wanted chan to not cling to you, or a better way of putting it instead is that you weren’t ready for him to do so. you wanted to save him the heartbreak that would come from becoming entangled with you, warning him right at the start implicitly in the way you ran from him that you weren’t going to share anything deeper than whatever you guys had. in some twisted way, you think maybe that was your idea of trying to be a good person when you knew you weren’t. even so, the fact that he could become attached to you alongside your lack of an ability to commit to you guys’ messed up relationship was terrifying. you were aware it would leave him hurt in the end, alone and stuck onto you, and that scared you in ways you’d never been.

it also scared you to think chan might see something more in you, might find something worth sticking around for; that in turn, he’d manage to change the perspective you have of yourself due to the fact that he was so.. so good. too good, maybe. because the crux of it all is that you two are from such different worlds, with different needs and different lives that just so happened to become mingled amongst each other. you found him by chance encounter, not having even known his name a few months back, and now you’re here, shamelessly tormented by the fact that the boy you didn’t want to hurt is unknowingly hurting you despite the fact that you have no right to be hurt by him. you knew from the start mixing up with someone like him didn’t make sense. it never would make sense. you’d always thought that these circumstances would be the cause of chan’s own downfall, that he was just running in a losing race.

oh, how the tables have turned, you think.

“see you around, channie.” you hear from the corner, the voice snapping you out of your inner dilemma in mere moments as you come to realise it belongs to ‘that’ girl. you think your heart rate physically spikes when you watch the way she winks at him, gently touching chan’s arm before brushing past him to walk away. part of you feels relieved that she’s gone, but another part of you can’t ignore how your stomach swirls in disgust at the way she behaves around him, or rather the way it flusters him in return. you don’t miss the burning red of chan’s ears or how he shakes his head to try recover out of it, especially not because of how it makes you feel disgusted. it’s so much so that in the midst of everything, you don’t even realise his head is springing up in your direction until his eyes are locked with yours once more, just like the night before.

white, coarse shock flashes through you, and you’d think your frozen body would finally listen when you see chan making his way over to you. instead, you stand there like an idiot, akin to a kicked puppy even with the way you’re sure your emotions are written clear as day on you. it’s only by the time that he’s almost face to face with you, an unreadable expressing playing on his face and the proximity of your bodies sending you reeling that you feel like you regain control over yourself, not daring to waste another second before you’re turning around on your heel and stepping away.

chan’s voice calls out for you in instant at your actions, and you desperately try to ignore the way your name sounds falling from his lips, swallowing a lump down in your throat that threatens to break the dam nearing explosion. it’s only when you hear his footsteps speed up and a warm hand grab your arm that you stop in place for what feels like the nth time this week, feeling like you can’t go on any further. you’re so tired of running, of detaching yourself from the situation and moving out of the picture that something in you just feels so defeated. so, you slowly turn around to meet his gaze again, heaving a breath that you don’t intend to come out of your mouth at the way he’s looking at you.

“sorry. um,” chan sighs, clearing his throat as he pushes back his glasses which are sliding off his nose. “hi?” he starts, not sure where to begin. you can tell he’s tense with the way he’s fiddling with his fingers and slightly tapping his sneaker clad foot, and you wish you could ease his nerves despite the fact that you’re equally as nervous, wishing you didn’t have to face him at all today, much less so soon. “i just, uh.. wanted to ask how you are.”

“‘m good.” you respond meekly, eyes falling on your feet, or the bushes, or the speck of dirt on the floor, or just fucking anywhere that wasn’t chan’s tender gaze which makes you feel messy and confusing feelings. “how are you?” you weakly offer, risking a glance at him as he nods and says the same, which only makes you feel like your heart is about to burst with the way he’s so concentrated on your face. his expression is still unreadable, and you’re not sure what’s burning through his mind right now, although if you had to take a wild guess, you’d think he’s probably wondering how the fuck he’s supposed to bring up your stupid behaviour, and it’s much to your dismay that your suspicions are confirmed with his next sentence.

“listen, i—“

“please ignore what happened. i was drunk, and it didn’t mean anything.” you quickly blurt out, cutting him off before he can say what he was going to. you’re not even sure if he was going to bring it up because you don’t give him the opportunity to do so in fear it’ll mortify you further than you already are, so much so that you don’t seem to notice the way the look in his eyes falls, that slight glimmer of hope dying down just as soon as it had appeared. “you can just leave it be, honestly.” you add on, the next words on your tongue slipping before you can stop them.

“i’m sure your girlfriend will be happier if you do that.”

it’s venomous, the tone that you speak in, sounding bitter and hurt despite the fact that you know you’re being petty. chan just blinks at you in return, opening his mouth, closing it and then opening it again as if he’s trying to find the right words to say. he doesn’t really know what to say, not when you’ve given him so much to process in so little time. “y/n,” he eventually lets out, and you have to physically shut your eyes to compose yourself from the way he sounds so soft as he addresses you. when you open them, he’s deep in thought, stare fixated on the space between your shoulder as if it’ll help him come up with an adequate response to this fucked up situation.

“i don’t think i should move past it.” chan swallows, his voice slightly trembling if you strain to hear it. something in you burns when you realise he doesn’t even bother to correct you about calling the previous woman you’d seen him with his girlfriend, and now you’re left wondering if there really is something deeper brewing between them. your stomach plummets at the potential, so much so that you can feel hints of irrational anger rising to the surface in you, and before you know it, you’re seeing red. “what the fuck does that even mean?” you spit out in your mild fit of rage that’s just begun, and chan’s eyes widen at you use of words.

“i-i mean, you’ve been avoiding me this whole time, and i just wanna know if it was something i did from last time, or if—“

“god, you just don’t know when to quit, do you?” you continue to snap, trying desperately to ignore the fresh sting of tears threatening to leak. you know this isn’t what you want to say, your heart speaking something different that it’s been trying to tell you for ages now, but the phrases tumbling out of your mouth are anything but the truth that yearns to be shared with probably the one person who would choose to understand and listen to it.

“this was nothing to begin with, and it never will be, chan. i said what i said ‘cause i was wasted out of my mind, it doesn’t mean jackshit. so, you can go ahead and do whatever the hell you want, and i’ll do the same.”

you don’t even realise the gravity of your words until you’re done, finally meeting chan’s gaze which only makes you want to let out the sob you’ve been holding back this entire time. instant regret floods your system at the way his shoulders slump and eyes appear emotionless, and before you can think to take it back, to tell him how everything you just said is a lie and that you’ve been trying to ignore whatever you feel towards him all this while, he flashes you a smile. it’s small, and you can tell it hides unspoken emotion in it, but you don’t question nor point it out, too stunned to even process it.

“i understand. i’ll leave you be from now on.” chan says quietly, his voice broken and dull. the lump in your throat sits at the back, ever so present and persistent as you try to swallow it away whilst watching his defeated frame turn around and walk off in the opposite direction. a desire deep inside of you itches to scream after him, to run over and yank him into your arms at last, but your pride overshadows it. you know you’ve done what you need to, your mind trying to convince you of the very fact because this is what’s best for you; it’s best for you to not continue mixing with chan in order to stop hurting both him and yourself, although it seems it’s too late for that by now.

moreover, even with that previous acceptance, you still feel uneasy, like something in you remains unresolved. part of you knows exactly what the truth is, but you refuse to acknowledge it. you think you’ll never know when or if the time for you to do so will ever come. so, with a heavy heart and so many unsaid thoughts, you turn around and trudge your way back to the dorms, shooting karina a quick text about feeing under the weather to eat before getting beneath your covers to lay down. a million thoughts buzz in your head as you try to sleep, desperately wanting to evade reality, yet your efforts do little to satiate the noises in your mind.

it’s only when you feel the fresh roll of a single tear against your cheek that you truly come to understand just what’s happened. you know you’ve pushed chan away for the millionth time by now, yet something about this instance feels different. maybe it’s the fact that you stuck around to see the pain in his eyes, or maybe it’s how he still tried to reach out to you despite your avoidance of him. maybe it’s even the way he’s finally found someone who probably loves him the way he deserves to be— openly, something you could never dare to give him despite your blatantly obvious jealousy. your very admissions make the weight in your heart heavier, the knowledge that you’re jealous, that you’ve been jealous this entire time only solidifying the fact that you care. you care so fucking much to the point it’s been eating you alive, and that’s all it takes for you to break before you’re full on crying, body shaking as you cover your face in your hands. one lone thought remains in your mind in the midst of your tears, the thought that chan may have not been yours to begin with, but now?

now, he’s definitely never going to be.

. . .

“l/n, what’s the matter with you today? keep up, you’re falling behind!” your coach’s frustrated voice cuts through the evening air once more as you squint, the stadium lights behind her highlighting her form that’s menacingly staring at you with hands on her hips. a loud sigh leaves your lips, causing you to clutch the plastic of your cheer tassels tightly in your hand as you try and ignore the stares coming from your girls. this is probably the fifth time you’ve messed up the routine for everyone today, an event highly unlikely for you in normal occurrences, but after having spent a few days since.. that, you can’t seem to get into the zone and focus on anything anymore.

practise drones on for another hour, filled with more groans and scolding from your instructor directed your way in specific until she finally gives up and dismisses everyone for the day. she grumbles something about how you guys should just come back tomorrow in the morning prior to the game instead and stomps off to her office, leaving you with a pit in your stomach because you know this is all because of you. there’s silence that lingers in the atmosphere once she’s gone, and no one dares to speak up, instead opting to stare at you through stolen glances as you heave a breathe. tossing your equipment aside, you move to go fill up some water, chugging it down in hopes that quenching your thirst will get you to snap out of the haziness that’s currently fogging your mind.

“hey.” a voice greets you from behind, and you whip your head back to find yunjin and giselle standing there. crumpling the paper cup in your hands, you fling it into the nearby bin, mustering up a smile as you nod at them which pushes giselle to bite the gun. “you okay? you seem kind of.. off today.” she questions in worry, causing you to shrug.

“yeah, sorry. i’ve just got a lot on my mind, i guess.” you huff out a laugh, although there’s nothing but annoyance laced in your tone. your teammates exchange looks between them at your words, and yunjin steps forward to place a hand on your shoulder. “we get it, the big game is nerve-wracking for us too.” you hum, her voice offering the same encouraging dialogue to you droning out in your head as reality fades away and your inner monologue with yourself begins once more.

what was the actual point of all of this anymore? were you even in it for the long haul? did you really want to continue giving it your all even after knowing you’ve lost something that means so much to you? you realise belatedly now that everything around you has become superficial, and that none of it seems to matter in the grand scheme of things except for.. well, him. even the concept of going to parties, getting wasted, missing classes, being on a team with the rest of the girls, it all feels endlessly futile now. that’s not to say you haven’t had fun this entire time, but something in you feels like it’s finally come to terms with what’s surrounding you. the ringing in your ears only gets louder by the minute as you try to will it away, and it genuinely seems like the alarms in you have finally woken up after months of staying dormant.

“sorry, yun, but i have to go. i’ll see you two later.” you mumble, and before either of them can protest, you’re turning around and walking off, the evening’s cool air following you closely behind.

you don’t even say hi to karina when you reach your dorm room, ignoring her greeting as you toss your shoes to the side, but she seems to pick up on what’s going on after seeing the longing look in your eyes. she doesn’t question it either when you lock yourself in the bathroom, simply going back to reading her book as if nothing had happened, and you’re honestly grateful for that realisation when you start the water. once the tub is all filled up, you strip down naked and dip your body in, closing your eyes at the warm sensation which envelops you after slipping in.

even still, the hug your bath seems to wrap you up in doesn’t take away from the heaviness of the day that continues to wear you down, almost like what happened over the course of this week is dragging your tense muscles with it. your chest still feels tight and the voices in your head remain muffled, like they’re being deafened by white noise that hasn’t stopped increasing in pitch ever since you came to terms with how you’re feeling. how you’re feeling. you swallow at that.

it feels like hours pass by the time you finally heave your soaking wet limbs out, bundling yourself up in a towel to dry yourself off before creaking the door open. when you step out, you notice karina’s side of the room to be empty, checking your phone to see if she’d messaged you, only to find texts from her saying she’d gone down to the dining hall with her classmates. you shoot her a quick reply back, adding some obscure emoji so she knows not to worry too much and then proceed to flop down on your own bed, frowning when you feel the still remaining dampness of your hair hit the pillow.

your eyes drift to your device which illuminates in the darkness of the room again, fingers moving to grab it as you unlock it only to flick through the rows of messages flooding in from group chats you don’t even know why you’re part of in the first place. some part of you feels empty upon eyeing them, watching the way everyone buzzes in excitement about the game tomorrow knowing you feel far from how they do. rather, it’s the opposite, some sort of twisted sensation washing over you as you scroll past all your notifications only to land on a particular chat.

“fuck.” you mutter to yourself, groaning whilst your eyes rake over chan’s contact name. you press on the profile photo hesitantly, biting your lip as it enlarges to give you a better look at what picture you’ve set for him; the picture you took of him.

you still remember it vividly— the both of you had gone down to the convenience store to grab a quick study snack, only to end up chatting over long gone cold ramen for hours on no end up until the point it had turned dark outside. you’d brushed off the dirt on your jeans after getting up from the stairs you two had sat on, turning around to face chan who was also about to stand but stopped at your request for him to pose for the camera. he’d gone red in the face when you teased him about how good he’d looked after snapping some photos of him, nervously scratching the back of his neck as he brushed off your compliment despite his giggles.

you’d been so busy pointing out the details of the photo that you hadn’t even noticed the way he’d laced his hand in yours, his palm soft against your cooler skin which caused the insides of your stomach to leap in a weird way. you’d ignored it of course, letting him enjoy his moment seeing as no one was around to catch you both anyways, but the blooming contentment you’d felt in your body remained until he’d walked you back to your dorm room, shyly flashing you a smile before placing a small kiss on your forehead. you rode out on that high for the next few days without even knowing it.

it’s only when your screen becomes wet with a few drops of your tears that you snap out of the memories, realising you’re crying once more. you use the back of your sleeve to wipe at your face, sniffling slightly all while trying to hold back the emotions that threaten to escape you yet again after having bottled them up for days now. your previous texts with chan stare back in your eyes as a sore reminder of everything, and you can’t help but scroll through them, reading back the silly messages you’d exchanged which only make you want to wallow in self pity even more.

was chan thinking of you the way you were of him? was he cooped up and unable to progress with his day because he was still hung up on how things had ended? did he care? did he.. ever care? did he care half as much as you did right now?

he did.

you realise belatedly that he cared, cared so much that maybe it was even more than you do right now or ever could and will. chan cared for you so deeply, so passionately in a way nobody else had the capability to do so in your entire life. he replaced the love you lacked growing up with his boyish charms and soft spoken personality, and he was willing to give up parts of him for your sake so as long as it meant you were happy.

he cared. he had cared.

he’d cared so fucking much and you’d thrown it away like it was nothing.

before you can even process your next actions, your thumb presses on the call icon next to chan’s profile. the ring goes out immediately, his nickname and photo appearing on your screen once more as you wait with bated breath. you don’t even know what you’re doing right now, you don’t think you ever have known to be honest when it comes to chan, but some irrational, impulsive part of you feels like it’s taken over, yearning to satiate the desires you’ve ignored for a long time now.

beep. beep. beep.

please pick up. please don’t pick up. please pick up. please don’t pick up. please—

“the number you have dialled is..“

it’s immediate the way you click off the call, bottom lip wobbling once you’re sure there’s no way anyone can hear as all your pent up frustration comes crashing down on you in an instant. a beat of silence passes as you exhale a shaky breath, which seems to be the beginning of the floodgates opening because by the time the air even leaves your mouth, you’re choking back a sob, much like you have been for these past few days. your heart tightens in a way that makes you extremely uncomfortable, and your hands shake as you try embrace yourself by hugging your knees to your chest so you can bury your face in them.

chan hadn’t picked up. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve asked him to come over in the dead of the night to meet up with you just so you two can make out in the backseat of his car. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve texted wishing to facetime with him because you’re bored of trying to do your assignments. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve wanted him to let you know to ring you up once he’s arrived home safe after having driven you back to your dorm.

he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times because he was gone from your life once and for all.

. . .

the next morning arrives far too soon for your liking, and it takes everything within you to drag your body out of the solace of your bed which currently seems to be the only thing providing you any semblance of comfort in your dull times. you do your best to make small talk with karina as you both get ready for the game, your roommate chatting your ear off about something mundane and irrelevant that you suspect is her way of filling the uncomfortable air lingering around you that she’s picked up on. you’re grateful for her trying to compensate for your lack of a response, but even with karina’s support, your soul feels extremely hollow and devoid of any meaning still. you hum and offer simple quips to her regardless of your mind screaming at you to go non-verbal, and before you know it, you’re both out of the door with you dressed up in your cheer uniform despite not feeling the slightest bit prepared to tackle what the day is about to bring.

by the time you both reach the stadium, everyone has already filled out the majority of the seats, the loud buzz of excitement resonating through the surroundings as you rake your eyes over the large turnout. karina flashes you a smile before giving you a quick hug, assuring you that you’ll do great and disappearing into the crowd to find her own spot to sit down. you want to believe her words, you truly do, but all your mind is fixated on right now is how sheerly empty you feel, your thoughts still drowning you in negativity with the way they haven’t shut up since last night, or maybe even for the past few weeks if you’re being honest. despite whatever emotions and jitters you’re feeling though, you try shrug it off, breathing in deeply before making your way over to where the rest of your team has gathered.

it’s the same speech that you’re met with when you finally stand around the huddle that everyone has formed in, their bright grins and your coach’s encouraging ment making you feel guilty for not being as fully into this as everybody else is. despite the drawbacks, you beam anyways, participating in the pre-show ritual of putting your hands into the centre and laughing alongside your girls. you all separate eventually and stand in your positions, and it doesn’t take long before the event begins and you’re all starting the crowd off with the all too familiar chant of your university’s slogan that everybody joins in on.

the game begins and generally progresses with no major hiccups, and in the end, you do manage to pull off the routine you’ve practised multiple times seamlessly without any issues. your limbs burn, and your voice is hoarse by the time the band takes over, but you try your best to maintain your outgoing nature despite the inner turmoil that’s been brewing inside you for a while now. nonetheless, before you know it, halftime is over and both teams are on the brink of a match point stopping them from taking victory. everybody watches with their nerves at a full time high, and for a moment, your thoughts seem to fade as you focus on keeping the gathering of people upbeat and motivated to encourage the players, but it’s short-lived after the star player manages to score the winning goal once and for all.

upon the realisation that your team has won, everyone erupts in loud celebration and applause, some even standing from their seat to make their way down and join in on the crowd of players who have formed around the one who threw the last shot. your girls and coach all yell in joy, a few of them hugging each other after a successfully executed performance which leaves them jumping up and down. you stay to watch from the sidelines, happy for your team’s hard efforts despite your still heavy shoulders dragging you down from getting into the spirit. some of the girls try and grab you by the hand to bring you into the hug, but you politely decline, saying you need to catch your breath for a second as some meaningless excuse to avoid having to be surrounded by a large group of people for too long.

observing everyone feels bittersweet. you want to be as pumped up as everybody else is, want to join in and ride on the high of having tackled what was quite possibly the biggest, most important match of the season, but a part of you holds back. no matter how much you try drag yourself out of your low spirits, you can’t succeed, instead feeling the need to chew on your bottom lip with your rising inability to hide your emotions as you stand in the middle of the ground alone. you don’t know where karina’s sauntered of to after the news of today's game outcome, and you’re not even sure where the rest of the team is heading to now; you assume it’s to some nearby diner for further commemoration. everything in you remains the same, numb and drained of any potential happiness that could’ve been because of what you’ve come to realise is completely your fault.

with a deep sigh and a gradual acceptance that you should just head back to the dorms, you turn on your heel, tossing your tassels somewhere in the basket you’d picked them up from before slowly trudging your way in the direction of the student accommodation. your eyes feel glossy, and that weird lump you keep getting before you’re about to cry is back in your throat as you watch everyone whizz past you, clearly bustling in thrill that’s much different from how you’re feeling. you do catch a few glances on you, feeling people’s stares and knowing they’re probably wondering why a member of the cheer team isn’t out partying with the rest, but you can’t find it in you to care anymore. you don’t know how you ever did in the first place.

y/n.

your ears perk at a familiar voice shouting your name in the distance, goosebumps spiking on your skin at the way it sounds so similar to chan’s. you feel like you’re hallucinating at this point, just hearing things because of your growing infatuation with him that’s finally made its way up from the underlying surface, and that only prompts you to walk faster as you tug your arms to your chest. if you’re starting to imagine things, it’s best that you get out of here. so, with your eyes squeezed shut, you try carry yourself as fast as your legs can take you, the call of your name only growing louder regardless of how much you ignore it. you swear you’re going mad from the way each time it returns, it sounds even closer and identical to how chan does, springing up memories of when he’d called you by your name the previous times you’d spent together.

y/n. y/n. y/n.

“y/n!”

your eyes widen when you hear the same voice and footsteps jogging up directly right behind you, this time knowing for sure that it’s not just in your head and rather coming from a few meters away. your heart accelerates with the possibility of what that means, of what that would entail if it were true. it couldn’t be.

..could it?

you’re quick to spin around when the thought crosses your mind, your eyes raking over your surroundings to search for that one figure you’ve been looking for in everyone you’ve met for the past few months. your breath catches in your throat, and you whip your head side to side to try and find the source, but it’s only when your vision stabilises and settles on the emerging figure in front of you that you realise it—

chan.

it’s chan.

chan is here.

“y/n.” he breathes out when he finally catches up to you, his glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose in his haste to greet you. you don’t respond, mouth open and feet frozen in place with your mind rushing at a million miles per hour and so many different questions echoing in it. is this real? have you fallen into some delusional state of existence where you’re envisioning the one person you’ve needed for so long? is he just a figment of your imagination that’s been burning with his face for so many days now? you can’t believe it, you don’t want to believe it, you think you don’t deserve to believe it. you long to reach out to him and place your hand in his, to feel and see if he’s actually present and standing in front of you, but your body acts like it’s been caught up in utter shock, something chan seems to pick up on after your prolonged silence.

“g-good job on the game.” he decides to stutter out as a way of starting conversation hopefully, cursing internally at how his voice wavers before letting out a nervous chuckle. “you were really great out there, and i saw you lead everyone really well. you know, if i think about it, cheerleading is kinda an intense sport, ‘cause why were you guys jumping so high, and—“

“you came.”

chan blinks as if to process your words, his eyes softening immediately at the admission that’s slipped out of you when you cut his rambling off mid-sentence with two simple words. you look so shocked, and it’s with a proper glance at your face he’s getting after not having been able to see you well enough for a while that he notices the remnants of your bloodshot eyes and slight dark circles, all of which you’d tried to cover up with makeup. he thinks you’re still as pretty as ever like this, and his hand twitches with the urging need to take you in his arms. he wants so badly to hold you, but he hesitates, instead settling on two, even more simpler words—

“you called.”

that’s all it takes. all it takes is two words which inherently have no meaning unless you give it to them to set you free and rid you of the static in your brain, your orbs stinging with the all too knowing tears that slowly drop out of them as you let everything sink in. it may sound like the most mundane sentence on the outside, but to you, after weeks of uncertainty and these last few days filled with what you would honestly classify as the worst depressive thoughts of your life, they feel like the most uplifting thing ever.

chan’s gaze widens when he catches the sole droplet of salty water roll down your cheek, and he’s instinctively extending his finger to wipe it away until he realises what he’s just done. you don’t even get to speak as he splutters out apologies for touching you while looking around to see if anyone caught that. his actions make your heart ache, knowing it’s because of you that he feels so cautious, and before you can even think, you’re crashing into him. the sudden weight of your body causes him to stumble a little on his feet, but he manages to stabilise himself as you wrap yourself around him in his embrace, burying your face into his chest.

“‘m sorry. ‘m so, so sorry.” your voice cracks as you speak, muffled into his jacket to the point he has to strain to hear it. you keep repeating the same thing over and over again to the point it makes his frown deepen, and he’s instant in cradling you back in his hold, other people be damned because he’d be an idiot not to take care of you now of all times. he lets you mumble into his clothes as long as you need to, grip on your smaller figure tightening while he rubs your back soothingly. his touch feels warm and comforting, and you don’t even know how you’d gone so far without it, pulling back with a sniffle after a short instance so you can scan your eyes over his features.

he’s dressed in simple clothes today, but that same combo of his signature snapback and glasses he always has remain resting on his head and face. you don’t even know what it is about them, maybe it’s the fact that you’ve gotten so accustomed to seeing him in these things, or maybe it’s how you’re finally catching a glimpse of it all after having been away for so long, but the sight of his accessories that you know all too well only makes you cry harder. you try move your arm to wipe at your tears, but chan is quicker, the soft pads of his thumbs brushing against your wet cheeks as he cups your face in his hands. your bottom lip juts out shamelessly as he wipes the remnants of your emotions away, to which he just smiles.

“i’m sorry too.” he admits, your confusion urging him to elaborate. “i saw you called yesterday night, but my brother had my phone and wouldn’t give it back to me, so i couldn’t pick up. i debated calling you back too, but i wasn’t sure if it was just another drunken mishap, and then after you said everything that day, i-i didn’t want to risk bothering you, and..“ he trails off, biting his bottom lip. you swallow at his words.

“it wasn’t a drunk call.” you shake your head, voice still wobbly as you clear your throat. “chan, i..“ you struggle to find a plausible explanation, wishing you could say a hundred words and none at the same time. you want to tell him everything in your heart, all the fears you’ve had this entire time that you want to get over with his help, all the nonsense your brain has been spewing ever since you told him to walk out of your life, all of it. you want him to know every deep, dark secret you’ve kept this entire time, but you can’t seem to find the right way to phrase it all.

“i get it.” he offers a lopsided grin as if having read your mind, and it’s pathetic really how it instantly eases all your worries. “you don’t have to say anything, not unless you want to. but, y/n,” chan hesitates, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. “there’s something i need to tell you before it’s too late.”

that makes you gulp, and you wonder for a split second if maybe this is the end. maybe this is chan finally putting himself and his needs first before you can even profess all the unsaid declarations of your feelings for him. maybe he’s become fed up with you at last and came to see you in person today to let you down easily, telling you sweet things and comforting you so you’d ease your guard and be more susceptible to what he’s about to say. maybe it’s finally time for you to let go before you could’ve even had a taste of what was to come, maybe this is the universe’s way of letting you know you lost your timing due to your insolence, maybe—

“i love you.”

…what?

your eyes practically bulge out of your head at this point, and for a while, you wonder if you really heard him right. it’s like your entire world seems to slow down around you too, your surroundings spinning even with you trying to stabilise your vision after what you’d just been told. everything feels like it’s fading into background noise, and suddenly your entire focus is only on chan; chan with his gorgeous face and honey-like voice that you’ve heard so many times letting you know the one thing you’ve longed to hear from him these past few weeks.

“i think— no, i know you’re it for me.” he continues to blurt out, his anxiety gnawing him at the back of his mind with the way you don’t say anything. “i’ve wanted to tell you for so long because i’ve been in love with you for a while now, but i didn’t because of what you said that day. a-and i know you told me not to bother you again, and maybe you’re not in the right mindset right now and i’m just imagining all of this, and you’re going to wake up tomorrow having changed your mind and we’ll go back to the way we were, and—“

chan’s words die down in his throat before he can even get the rest of his sentence out, a surprised yelp leaving him when you abruptly cut him off by pressing your mouth against his. he lets out a small noise of shock at the way you lean into him, but his hands wrap around you as if its instinct, caging you into his body when he eventually does reciprocate your actions. your lips are soft; they’re so warm and taste like your strawberry chapstick, but he doesn’t care that it’s probably staining his face, at least not when he’s finally got you with him, no less in the way he’s longed for ever since he met your drunk figure stumbling into the balcony with him that night at the party.

your head isn’t any quieter either, adrenaline coursing through your veins and heart impossibly beating out of your chest as you enthusiastically mould yourself to him. your fingers bunch up the jacket he’s wearing, and the way he’s kissing you makes your toes curl inside your shoes, but none of that matters when you’re here at long last with chan. chan, chan, chan. your chan. your chan who has never been yours but is now saying he is. your imperfect, awkward, nerdy chan who holds the door open for you and respects all your wishes regardless of how they make him feel. the realisation makes your insides twist in a way you think might make your legs give out on you, but chan is quick to squeeze your waist as a way of reassuring you that he won’t let you fall, and you can’t help the fluttery sensation in your stomach that passes with that.

when you both do pull away, it’s with much reluctance, and you can see the faintest hint of a pout on chan’s face decorated with the remnants of your makeup, but he doesn’t seem to care so you think neither should you. your eyes lock when he opens his, those same orbs you’ve felt such complicated feelings for reflecting back at you with unspoken tension and so much adoration. you think you might physically melt with the way he’s staring down at you, so lovestruck and completely in awe, but that’s exactly what gives you the push to say your next words—

“i love you so much.” you choke out, unexpected emotions washing over you as you finally admit what you’ve been wanting to say for so long. it feels liberating in a way you’ve never experienced, to be honest and real with him, but you think you could get used to it.

“how could i not love you, chan? you’re everything i’ve ever needed.” your voice comes out in a whisper, and chan feels his shoulders relax at that, relief flooding through his system when he finally, finally hears what he’s wanted to since he’s known you. “‘m sorry for pushing you away, ‘m sorry for hurting you, and i’ll try my best to stop running from what i want. so.. if you’ll still have me even after all that, i promise i’ll make it worth your while.” you look down at your feet, swallowing in fear that he’d think otherwise after being reminded of everything you did to him. you know you don’t deserve a second chance, but the thought of chan changing his mind after everything that’s happened feels way too cruel, although you think maybe that’s your karma.

“hey,” your ears catch his gentle voice speak up, dragging you out of your thoughts. before you can even look up, chan’s hooking his finger under your chin and making you do so, his beautiful face that you’ve fallen for throughout these past few months coming into your view. the way he’s staring down at you is so tender, so full of admiration that you genuinely believe you might pass out. chan has always looked at you like you hung the stars up in the sky, like he wants you and you only in every lifetime. but, seeing it now after his confession, seeing the way his gaze rakes over your features as if he’s trying to commit them to memory, you feel like you might cry again.

“of course i’ll have you, are you kidding me?” he huffs out in a laugh that pulls you back to reality, although it sounds more like him being in disbelief. “i’ve been dreaming of this ever since i even saw you.” he shyly mumbles, and you can’t stop the goofy grin that spreads across your face at his admittance. you want to jump in joy, to shout out your feelings for him from the top of the bleachers after finally having it all laid bare in front of you, but you can’t, so instead you settle on smashing your lips against his once more, cradling his face in your hands.

chan’s quick in responding this time, and you can sense the way he’s beaming when he moves his mouth in sync with yours. your hand slides up his chest to grip the edge of his jacket, and you swear you can feel the rapid thumping of his heart under your skin, wondering if he can hear yours too with the way you’re both pressed up to each other. you stay like that to the point your lungs burn, exchanging kisses and unspoken feelings amongst each other until you finally have enough (not really). your hand interlocks with his once you pull away and flash him a cheeky smile, the words already leaving you—

“let’s get out of here.”

. . .

by the time you and chan make it to his car, you’re already panting, lips bruised with the way you’ve been pushing them against one another’s for the past few minutes. it took long enough to even drag him to the parking lot, chan not being able to let go of you in favour of walking the short distance to the outdoor area where he'd driven and stopped. the morning sky that’s illuminated above you with hues of orange stretches out for miles, and if anyone’s up there looking down at you both, they’d probably see two young adults giggling amongst themselves as one of them presses the other up to the side of his vehicle. you feel butterflies erupt in you with the way chan slots his body against yours, his leg pushing its way through the gap between yours, and his mouth is on you before you can even speak.

“you look so pretty today.” chan retracts from you to whisper suddenly, his slightly foggy glasses once again sliding off his nose. you reach up and push them back with a mischievous glint in your eyes, and he swears he's never seen a sight so alluring in his life; his red ears are enough evidence of that fact. “so, am i not pretty every other day, mr. bang?” you tease, causing him to let out a chuckle. he missed this, missed the banter between you two that was the start of what could've been mistaken as a lighthearted relationship if no one bothered to correct the details of it. regardless of all the trials and tribulations it took to get you both to this point, he doesn't care, at least not when he finally has you in his arms, your top bunched up in his hands as he looks down at your precious face.

“nope.” he pops the ‘p’, thumb brushing against your cheek. “because those days, you're even prettier.” he murmurs, and you think if your heart races anymore that it might actually burst. the love and adoration that you’re experiencing for him right now, the love and adoration that you've been experiencing for a long time now, it all feels like a fever dream. you're finally able to do and say what you want to him, but you think the best part of it all is him reciprocating it. the way he gazes at you, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you, all of it— it's all so full of emotion to the point you fear that you can't ever give it all back. you'd be damned if you didn't try though.

“alright, romeo, pipe it down. you're gonna get all the ladies with that line.” you joke, and chan throws his head back to let out a laugh that makes your insides twist. you try to move your head away to hide the tint of pink that's rapidly spreading across your face, but he notices anyway, a large grin plastered all over his mouth that he doesn't even bother hiding anymore. he fumbles around with his keys a little until he finally finds the one that unlocks his car, instantly opening the door to the backseat to which you usher in at lightning speed, drawing another laugh from him.

“c’mere.” he sighs once he's in too, grasping your hand to tug you onto his lap somehow despite the cramped space. you let out a noise of surprise as he settles you over him, but your hands instantly move to his shoulders to stabilise yourself, finding the familiar position you've been in far too many times. “someone’s eager.” you let out breathlessly, unable to hold back the giggle that bubbles in your throat at the way he flushes red at your observation. his hands find purchase on your waist, the smooth feel of your uniform being bunched up in his larger fingers causing your heart to beat out of its chest.

“well, yeah, but.. also, i missed you.” chan confesses quietly. “i mean, i’ve been dreaming about this for so long and now it's finally real.” he mutters in disbelief, and you can't stop the pout that forms. your fingers trace along the soft skin of his face, moving past the outline of his jaw to his swollen mouth that you've probably kissed at least ten times by today. you don't hesitate to kiss it again, lips moulding perfectly against his as your eyes slip shut to revel in the moment. chan is nothing but full of sighs of content at your actions, and when you pull away, he swears he almost whines.

“i missed you too. so much.” you admit, full and honest because you had. you'd missed him so much to the point you'd have thought you were going crazy. you missed him every day you had waken up whether or not you wanted to be aware of it, and you'd missed him every night that you'd cried yourself to sleep. and yet, here he is now, sitting with you in his lap all the way in the back of his beat up car, telling you all these sweet words that make you want to do absolutely sinful things to him.

“missed talking to you.” you boop his nose, and he smiles at you, irrevocably down bad. “missed hugging you.” your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, and while you shudder at the visible idea of how much stronger chan actually is compared to you, you sign it off as a fantasy you'll have to indulge in someday later. “missed kissing you.” you mumble, leaning in to pepper a soft trail across his cheeks. “and, most of all..” you trail off, inching closer so you're at level with his burning ears before you speak—

“i missed tasting you.” your voice comes out in a low tone, and chan all but groans at the dirty admission. he shifts slightly underneath you as evidence of his discomfort, but you know that's only from the way you can feel him filling out his jeans. your hips purposely push down on his to grind against the slowly forming bulge tucked away behind his boxers, and he jerks forward, nails digging into the fabric of your skirt with a loud hiss leaving him.

“don’t— don’t do that.” chan gasps out, the sight of your glossy, doe eyes instantly having blood rush between his legs. he can tell you’re in the mood to play games, but he also knows that if he goes one more minute without having claimed you in any sort of way, he might actually die. “‘m literally on the brink of it, baby. please.” you bite your lip at his small plea, ignoring the way the old nickname falls from him as the faintest hint of a smirk forms across your features. you choose to rock your clothed core on his once more anyway, which makes chan toss his head back so rough that a slight thump resonates in the air after he hits the seat.

his gaze is hooded whilst he watches you hump your slowly growing wetness over his pants for the next few minutes, mouth parted as heavy exhales leave it alongside the rapidly rising tension between you both. one particular press of your probably damp by now panties on his bulge has him keening, which only makes you smile. “shit, you still love teasing me, huh?” he curses in question, breathy laughter escaping him at the sight of you nodding as his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. the sight alone is so attractive that you can’t resist leaning in to capture him in another searing kiss, one that’s much hotter and heavier than the previous ones.

chan’s confusion is audible with the way he voices it out loud when you suddenly pull away, but any and all complaints die down in his throat the minute he sees you shuffle from his lap, biting back the groan that threatens to rumble through his chest at you sinking to your knees instead. you’re thankful that his passenger seat is adjusted forward to give you space to sit, likely being that way from all your previous activities, or maybe it could be from anybody else he brought in during the technically no contact period you both broke moments prior to this. hot jealousy bubbles under the surface at the potential of someone else getting to see him how you do, but you swallow it down in lieu of making the most of what situation you’re in now.

“pretty girl.” chan’s voice is merely a whisper, dragging you out of your thoughts as one of his hands caresses the flesh of your cheek, leaving you to nuzzle against it. he glances at you so softly regardless of whatever erotic position you’ve put yourself in, still in utter awe at the fact that you’re here, physically and in front of him instead of the daydreams he’s often found himself imagining of you. he can’t decide whether you look like the epitome of perfection with the sunlight streaming through his windows and highlighting your face, or the epitome of sin with the predicament you’re in which leaves you situated on the floor of his car between his legs; he chooses to settle on both.

your fingers graze his denim clad thighs, and chan retracts himself from brushing his thumb against the skin of your face to hurriedly undo the zipper of his jeans. you’re more than eager to help, assisting him in unbuttoning and shimmying them off despite the cramped space you’re both in. eventually, chan’s pants and boxers are pooling around his ankles, and his leaking cock awaits prettily for any sort of relief you may be able to provide it, the tip a slight shade of red as precum dribbles out. you’re quick to swipe it off, chan’s noises at you doing so falling on deaf ears as you bring the essence up to your mouth and lick it off. the familiar tinge of sweet and saltiness invades your senses, only making the uncomfortable stickiness between your own legs grow.

“you’re so beautiful, channie.” you say after popping your finger out of your mouth, small hands instantly moving to wrap around his length and squeeze just a tad, which has chan’s chest rumbling with a moan. “gorgeous face, gorgeous body, gorgeous everything. how could i have been so foolish to almost let go of it?” you wonder out loud, eyes flickering up to him when he buries his face in his palms, getting flustered at your compliments. “my shy boy.” you giggle at his actions, mesmerised by the way he twitches in your hold when you softly pump him up and down.

“been such a bad girl ignoring you, yeah?” you sigh in faux frustration, although a part of it is true. “no more of that, though. let me make it up to you.” you gather a wad of spit in your mouth before letting it dribble across his cockhead, smearing the saliva over it with your thumb once more. your ministrations have chan’s hips threatening to buck up in your hold, but he restrains himself, embarrassed at how worked up you’ve already gotten him without even having done anything really. “i promise i’ll make you feel so good.” you assure, eyebrows furrowing when he just shakes his head.

“no, y-you always make me feel good.” he stutters at the way your fingers squeeze just a bit harder from his words, and before he can even add anything else to his previous sentence, you’re leaning forward to wrap your warm mouth around him.

a loud groan shudders its way past chan’s lips at how you practically swallow him whole in one go, taking him in so deep that he can feel the way his mushroom head kisses the back of your throat just a smidge. you pull off a little to let your tongue slide out and lick around the underside of his dick, another hand coming up to fondle with his balls simultaneously. soon enough, his low grunts fill the air, only prompting you to hum around chan as the vibrations of your voice shoot up his body. “fuck, angel.” he manages to utter out, a deep moan slipping out when he dares to peek a glance at you, almost cumming prematurely from the way you look up at him through your lashes.

“wan’ you to fuck my throat. please.” you pull off of him to plead instead, rubbing the spit-stricken head of his sensitive cock against your swollen lips. the way you’re staring back at him with wide eyes, your wet muscle darting out to dip into his slit as he chokes on his own words makes him want to take you right then and there, but chan holds back, choosing to oblige your request with a shaky nod as he reaches forward to thread his fingers through your hair. you smile at him sweetly, enveloping his length back into your hot cavern of a mouth and pushing your nose flush to his pelvis.

this time, he feels his tip bump deliciously against the back of your throat, and it doesn’t take much longer for him to start slowly push himself in and out whilst gripping you in a makeshift ponytail. the sloppy sounds of your gagging fill the space of his car in an instant, and the mere sight of your tears welling up nearly sends chan toppling over the edge. he’s quick to take you off of him at that, and you’re about to protest to ask why he stopped when he cuts you off. “‘m sorry, angel, but if we don’t stop, i'll end up finishing like a teenage boy in your mouth.” you huff out a small laugh at his choice of words.

“i wouldn’t have cared, channie. that’s kinda the goal of sex.” you point out, rising from your crouched position with burning knees to settle on his lap once more as you wrap your arms around his neck. “yeah, but..” chan trails off, his breath hitching at the way he presses up against your clothed stomach, and you titter from how he seems absolutely awestruck at the sight of you in his hold. it’s so endearing that you lean forward to press a soft kiss to his nose, letting your lips trail across his cheeks, ears and jaw before finally landing on his mouth. chan feels like he’s going to go mad when you eventually retract from him. “yeah, but?” you remind him with a smug grin, watching him blink to gather his thoughts again.

“i-i want you to feel good too.” he mumbles shyly, averting his gaze elsewhere in embarrassment as you coo. you bring your fingers up to move his face so he’s glancing at you once more, his shining eyes locking with yours and making your heart swell.

chan’s love for you has always been selfless; he doesn’t seem to care for his own pleasure much when it comes to you and always insists on making you feel good over having himself do so. it’s one of the things you’ve grown so familiar with when being around him, and before he came along, the concept of someone being so giving had never even crossed your mind. you’re aware a part of it lies in the fact that you’re his first— first kiss, first time, first everything. it used to scare you before, making you feel like he was missing out on what everyone else could offer him by being stuck to you, but the minute the possibility of him having the experiences he shared with you with somebody else became a reality, you knew you could give less of a fuck about being selfish.

because right now in this very moment, or two hours from now, one day from today, a few weeks from this time, and in every lifetime to come too, you wanted chan. you wanted him on his good or bad days, wanted him through thick or thin, and wanted him even if you had the chance to choose from anybody in the world. he’d become it for you, and god, were you glad he felt the same way.

“it makes me feel good when you do, baby.” you remind him, flashing him a smile that makes his insides melt. “but, if you insist, then who am i to deny my pretty boy?” chan has to bite back the grin that threatens to spread across his face at your words. your pretty boy. yours. he’d wanted to be nothing more ever since you walked into his life and now he finally had it, the idea being so incredulously unfathomable to him that he doesn’t even register you taking off your top. it’s only when your fingers graze his cheek and you lean in for another kiss that he notices you’re now half naked and straddling him, a noise of pleasure leaving his mouth at the realisation which you swallow up. your lips slot against his so perfectly, almost like they’re two pieces of the same puzzle finally meeting each other, warmth blooming in both of you at the idea of being each other’s missing link.

“no, no, just lemme pull ‘em to the side.” you pull back and whisper when he lifts your skirt to yank down your underwear. shakily, you reach below and hook your fingers into the damp material, tugging it to one end and exposing your wetness that nearly drips out of you. chan has to hold back the dirty noises that bubble inside him at the sight of your soaked panties, but even more so when you grab his length and line him up to your entrance. both of you can’t stop your sighs of long deserved relief when his tip breaches your opening, barely sucked in but still nestled inside, and before chan can beg you to put him all the way in, you’re sitting down on his cock completely, biting your lip at the burning stretch.

“fuck.” is the only thing that you hear from chan once he’s fully bottomed out, looking up to see him staring down at where you’re both connected with blown out pupils. his gaze makes you burn up, involuntarily causing you to clench to the point your boy is digging his nails into your side, leaving crescents in your skin for you to wake up to tomorrow. “missed you so much.” chan’s voice is strained alongside the small laugh that escapes him, his hips slightly bucking up and causing you to whimper as the sound goes straight to his dick. he has to physically stop himself from fucking up into you, your warmth enveloping him in the best way possible.

“please move, princess. please.” he begs, pleas dripping with raw desire as he gazes up at you with wide eyes. it’s all the confirmation you need to slowly lift your hips up and lower them down on his, your warm walls clinging to his cock having the both of you moaning out loud at the feeling it provides instantly.

your movements are slow, deep and deliberate with how you rock your hips in a gentle grind against chan’s length buried to the hilt inside you. the angle of your bodies locked together allows his mushroom head to breach far inside you, and it almost feels like he’s all the way in your stomach. chan’s cock has always been girthy and heavy, a large vein protruding along the side of his shaft and leading to the bulbous tip of his dick. the first time you took him, let him feel what it’s like to not just fuck his fist, he almost tore you in half with his misplaced, rabid actions. but right now, with you riding him in the backseat of his car, the windows fogging up and no doubt giving away your scandalous activities, he feels even larger in you, especially with how he pushes up to meet you halfway.

“baby.” you mewl at a particularly well-placed thrust, preening at how his cockhead brushes against that spot tucked safely inside, and chan bites his lip at the way your face is contorted in absolute bliss. he brings one of his knobby digits up to wet it before trailing it down to press into your clit, and you almost fall forward from the sudden jolt of pleasure. “s’good?” he murmurs, continuing to rub tight circles on your swollen nub as you whimper in agreement, vision going crosseyed from how great your body feels at the moment.

sex with chan is always an experience to say the least. you still remember the time he lost his virginity to you, rutting inside your heat freely in his childhood bedroom at a study session gone wrong (or right even) with the headboard bumping into the wall. thankfully, nobody was home that day, and you got the privilege of being as loud as you wanted, an occurrence you didn’t expect to happen because well, everything was new to chan. you hadn’t anticipated him being able to make you cum at all, but he had anyway, drawing at least one orgasm from you with his mouth and fingers before he even slipped in. the entire act had been so.. domestic. the way he’d held you, let you use him, and how he’d kissed you so tenderly, it really should’ve dawned on you right then and there that there was no escaping this. chan had gotten you in the palm of his hand from the start contrary to what he thought; you just hadn’t been aware of it until now.

“i love you.” chan blurts out suddenly, drawing you back to reality as the confession falls so easily from his lips, and your heart races for what feels like the nth time today. it makes you fuck back onto him even harder, your actions become more fervent and desperate with how you lift your hips up to slam them back down on his cock. his car is probably rocking back and forth deliriously by now, and when you slap your hand against the glass to stabilise yourself, it leaves an imprint, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care about that. “you’re the only one for me. always have and always will be.” chan pants out, his whimpers growing louder with the way your pussy tightens around him at his words.

“i love you.” you whine when he pinches your clit slightly between his fingers, feeling your slick juices dripping down the both of you and making a mess of his backseat. “love you so much, channie. you’re my one and only too.” chan shudders at that, wrapping a hand at the back of your neck to pull you in for a messy kiss. it’s a swap of dirty moans and spit, and chan swears he sees heaven when you slip your tongue inside his mouth to lick into it, the knot in his stomach growing closer to snapping.

“cum with me. please, baby, ‘m so close. cum inside me, please, please, please.” you pull away slightly to whimper, smashing your lips back on his to moan muffled against them. chan just nods rapidly at your pleading, feet planted flat on the floor to give him enough leverage for drilling up into you. the slight curve of his cock pistons into that same spot from before, and it isn’t long before your cunt clamps down on him with your high washing over you like a tidal wave. the tingling sensation resonates through your entire body, and you can’t stop lewd sounds from spilling out of you and into chan’s mouth.

chan follows close behind, balls tightening and limbs shaking as his cock twitches inside you. it barely takes him one, two thrusts until he’s painting your walls white in his release, warm cum oozing and almost leaking out of you with how much of it there is. curses and low grunts leave him, and it takes a minute for the two of you to calm down with how intense the spiking pleasure feels. you remain in his embrace until the ringing in your ears dies down, panting onto each other as sweat trickles down your back and his forehead. when you open your eyes, chan has still got his shut, and you lean forward to press a gentle smooch to the underside of his jaw, kissing it until he regains his composure and faces you.

“i think i died.” he sighs in bliss at last, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his playful remark, yelping when his finger pokes you in the side for your attitude. “better than your other side pieces, huh?” you question breathless, still worn out and tired from your previous activities. chan stares at you in pure confusion as you give him a pointed look like it’ll remind him of the girl you’d seen him with countless times at the party or outside your dorms, and it takes a while until the lightbulb in his head goes off, orbs wide before he’s bursting out in laughter. “it’s not funny, she was all over you.” you grumble at his reaction, crossing your arms across your chest.

“baby, that was just a friend’s ex who was trying to make him jealous. i barely know her.” he explains with a wide grin on his face. “although, it looks like she got to you instead.” chan chortles when you slap him lightly on the shoulder at his words, having the time of his life as you flush bright pink in embarrassment after having gotten worked up over nothing. “still, she didn’t have to call you nicknames and flirt with you.” you try and defend yourself which only makes chan shake his head before cupping your face and pressing a short kiss to your lips.

“‘m all yours, pretty girl. don’t even worry.” he reassures, eyes so full of love that it’s hard to argue against him anymore. you still choose to pout anyways, and he takes that as an invitation to lean in and push his mouth back to yours. each kiss you exchange makes you melt little by little, and by the time chan is pulling away, you’ve forgotten all about what made you mad in the first place. “so,” your ears perk up when he speaks again, and you look down to find his expression filled with slight hesitation.

a beat of silence passes as chan struggles to find the words to say what he wants, choosing to busy himself in fiddling with the ends of your skirt that you’d failed to take off in your frenzy to claim him. you tilt your head to the side in expectance, but your eyes soften as he heaves out a breath that seems to be filled with deep emotion. instinctively, you take his hand that’s playing around with your clothes and intertwine your fingers, squeezing and dragging it up to nuzzle your face into the back of his palm lovingly in hopes it may calm him down. your little plan works, and before you can even speak up yourself to just ask what’s on his mind, chan beats you to it.

“um, what does this make us?” he mumbles quietly, swallowing the small lump that’s forming at the back of his throat. chan doesn’t want to return to whatever it was that you guys had going on prior to what happened just now between you two, and even though you’ve both declared your feelings for one another countless times by now, it’s still unclear where everything stands, or rather where you stand. he wants you to be his, completely and fully so he can show you off to everyone, but fear gnaws him at the back of his mind that maybe that’s not quite what you want. despite what you’d said while entangled with him, he finds it hard to believe that you’d crave for the same relationship he wants, and he prays that he’ll hear the answer from you that he’s yearned for ages by now.

on the other hand, you simply blink at his words, letting them sink into your head. it’s only when they fully register that you break out into a small smile, heart sinking at how chan looks away with worry evident in his eyes. you know you’re the reason behind his reluctance to want more with you, and that it’ll take some time for him to understand your feelings are on par with his and have been for a while, or may even be further ahead at this point, but you’re more than willing to fix that, regardless of how long it takes.

“channie,” your voice comes out soft and sweet, and chan resists the urge to tear up at the way you call his nickname with so much love. he gulps when you tilt his face to look at yours, shoulders relaxing instantly when he sees you beaming back at him. it’s insane to think how a simple happy look from you makes him feel lighter on his own feet, but with the way some of the anxiety brewing inside him seems to fade away after having gotten a glimpse of your smiling face, he thinks it’s far from implausible.

“if it’s okay with you, and if you’ll have me once more,” you take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves before saying the next of your sentence. “then, i’d love to be your girlfriend.”

chan’s world seems to slow down at your words, the sentence you’d just uttered seeming to have cast some sort of spell on him. it’s like everything in his surroundings fades away into silent noise or sightless objects, and he can’t stop the way his mouth falls open slightly. you want to be his girlfriend? his girlfriend? you, the absolute love of his life, the one person he never thought he could have, want to be his officially? he looks up at you dumbfounded as if you’d just presented the most disbelieving offer of all time, although he supposes you kind of have done that honestly.

“i mean, it’s fine if that’s not what you want.” your voice drags him out of his thoughts, leaving him blinking as you start to blurt out more stuff in your nervous haze. “i’m aware i behaved stupidly and pushed you away for no reason, and maybe you said everything in the heat of the moment, and now that we’re done with it all, you’ve changed your mind and want nothing to do with me, and—“

now it’s chan’s turn to cut off your rambling, his body surging forward to capture your lips with his again, and it doesn’t take long before you’re succumbing to his touch much like the previous instances you’ve melted into him, eyes slipping shut as he cradles your face in his fingers delicately. his entire hold on you is gentle, like you’re a piece of expensive china that might break if he even so as much makes a sudden move. the way he embraces you is filled with tender, all-consuming love, and you think you might start crying once more if he continues with his actions.

“is this real?” he whispers against you, still in complete shock when you nod slowly as an answer to his question, a disbelieving laugh leaving him as he shakes his head. “you’re mine now? like you, the girl of my actual dreams?” his questions have you visibly relaxing, and any and all doubt physically leaves you as you smile back at him in approval, laughing when he hugs you tightly to his chest. “i’m so fucking lucky.” chan breathes out in content, leaving you to simply bury your flustered face into his neck at the way he sounds so utterly in awe.

“ah, wait, no.” he suddenly starts, pulling back to look at you. his curls stick messily over his eyes, and you move to brush them back under his signature hat to get a clearer look at the features of the man you’ve fallen so deep for. “i have to ask you properly to commemorate the occasion.” he purses his lips, mustering up a serious expression that basically makes you simper, far too blinded in love to even point out or make fun of how silly he’s being. because that’s just chan. your chan.

“y/n l/n,” chan clears his throat, taking your hand in his and holding it over his rapidly beating heart which you can feel thumping under your palm. “will you do the honour of letting me be your boyfriend?” he asks, eyes twinkling when you giggle, so enamoured that you can’t resist leaning your forehead against his, nodding instantly.

“i’d love nothing more, bang christopher chan.”

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

1K notes · View notes

cheftsunoda · 18 days ago

Note

hiiii i’ve got a request for lando + magui!!! i was thinking of a scenario where reader is the best friend of one of magui, but has hooked up with lando! Magui figured out and instead of being mad, she seduces reader and they all three end up together!! i love you work!! i haven’t seen anyone request magui and lando together so i thought it would be a nice little change!!

complicated — ln4 + magui

smau + blurbs

lando norris x reader x magui corceiro

yn was not supposed to see him that night. not in that club. not under those lights. but there he was—lando norris. smiling, golden, drunk off something that looked a lot like heartbreak. yn hadn’t seen him in months, not since the last very public breakup with her best friend, magui. and as far as she knew, it was over. again. so yn danced with him, laughed, let her walls down, let her guard slip. one drink turned into three. his hands found her waist. her lips found his. and somewhere between midnight and regret, yn let herself forget who he was to her. but in the morning—when the makeup smudged and silence settled—she figured it out and the guilt hit like a freight train. yn never meant to hurt her. she was her ride-or-die. her other half. but when yn showed up to confess, to beg for forgiveness, magui didn’t cry. she didn’t yell. she only smiled, slow and sharp. “you could’ve just told me you wanted him,” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind yn’s ear. “i would’ve shared.” and just like that, their entire world turned upside down.

fc : lily rowland

(a/n) : as on my kelly post— please no hate. i am simply doing what was requested of me. everyone has their own opinions on magui and they are entitled to those. if she makes lando happy, that is all that matters.

also i suck at writing smut and i attempted to write some slightly in this so do not hate me if it is horrible.

—

f1gossipgirls

2,790,002 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Supermodel YN LN was spotted in a Monaco nightclub in the early hours with none other than F1’s own Lando Norris. The pair were seen getting very close inside before slipping out together through the back entrance. Sources say Lando and longtime on-again, off-again girlfriend Magui Corceiro (who is yn’s bff btw) were recently back on… so this little rendezvous is raising a lot of eyebrows 👀

—

view 175,002 other comments.

username00 : not this man speedrunning his way out of a relationship again 💀💀

username0 : yn??? as in supermodel, cover-of-every-magazine YN??? oh lando won fr

username1 : you lose them how you get them🤷🏻‍♀️

username5 : nah yn and magui have been best friends forever. yn would never just randomly do this to magui. something is up.

username7 : v confused bc after the latest breakup yn was in the press cursing this man’s name

username10 : nah if I was Magui I’d be flipping a table rn.

username11 : someone check if magui unfollowed her rn. I NEED LIVE UPDATES.

—

The bass was so loud I could feel it in my chest, every beat syncing with my pulse like my body couldn’t tell where the music ended and I began. I was two drinks past responsible, three smiles past exhausted, and somewhere between pretending I was fine and actually starting to believe it. And then I saw him.

I didn’t mean to. He just—appeared. Out of nowhere. Like the room shifted and suddenly there was Lando, standing across the club like some kind of glitch in my night. I blinked, thinking maybe it wasn’t him. But no—same curls, same smirk, same way of holding a drink like he couldn’t care less but also wanted to be watched. And his eyes—of course—landed on me.

Of course they did. I froze. For a second, I thought about turning around, disappearing into the crowd, pretending I hadn’t seen him. But then he smiled. And I was fucked.

He made his way toward me like he had all the time in the world. My heart shouldn’t have jumped the way it did. Not for him. Not when he was Magui’s. Or—was he?

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, low and smooth, like we were friends and not two people who definitely shouldn’t be talking.

“Didn’t expect you to still be breathing after what you did to Magui last time,” I shot back, arching a brow.

He laughed—really laughed. That easy, boyish kind of laugh that used to make Magui melt and make me roll my eyes.

“She forgave me,” he said with a shrug. “Or she said she did. It’s… complicated.”

I shouldn’t have cared. But my stomach twisted anyway. Because complicated, to me, always sounded like unfinished. Still, I didn’t walk away. I let him step closer. Close enough to smell that stupid expensive cologne I used to tease him about. Close enough to forget every reason I had to keep my distance.

“Let me get you a drink?” he asked, tilting his head just a little. Like he already knew I’d say yes.

And I did. God help me, I did. Because in that moment—with the lights too low and my brain too soft—I forgot who he was to her. Or maybe I just didn’t want to remember. He handed me the drink — something clear, cold, and expensive — and leaned in just enough to make it look casual. Just enough to make my skin prickle.

“You look different,” he said.

I sipped. “That’s what happens when you don’t see someone for five months. People change.”

He gave me that smug half-smile. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

I didn’t answer. I let the silence stretch between us, heavy with everything unsaid. I could’ve walked away right then. Could’ve rolled my eyes, handed him back the drink, said “Tell Magui I said hi.” But I didn’t. I just… stayed.

“Still modeling?” he asked, like he didn’t already know. Like my face wasn’t plastered on billboards and magazine covers he drove past on the way to every circuit.

I gave him a look. “Still racing?”

He grinned, then took a slow sip of his own drink. “Touché.”

The music shifted — something deeper, smoother, the kind of track that made people lean in and lose their morals. I felt it in my spine.

He stepped a little closer. Too close.

“You and Magui still talk?” he asked. His tone was light, but his eyes were sharp.

I nodded. “We talk every day.”

“Even about me?”

I tilted my head. “Why? Want to know what she says?”

“Only if it’s good,” he murmured, and I laughed despite myself.

He smiled at the sound like he’d won something. Like he knew how dangerous this was and didn’t care.

“You really think this is a good idea?” I asked, finally meeting his gaze head-on.

“I think you look like you needed a good idea tonight,” he said softly. “And I think I did too.”

God. He was trouble. He was Magui’s trouble. But in that moment, under those lights, with the crowd fading into a blur and my brain begging for a break from the pressure—I didn’t feel like the girl who made the right choices.

I felt like the girl who was one wrong move away from doing something she couldn’t take back.

And when he reached out, fingers brushing against my wrist, I didn’t pull away.

I let him.

—

The lights were lower on the dance floor — dim and smoky, pulsing red and violet like the whole room was breathing in sync. The music shifted again, slower now, deeper. A beat made for moving close. For making mistakes.

Lando looked at me like he was waiting for a sign. I didn’t give him one. I just turned and walked toward the crowd.

I didn’t look back to see if he followed.

I didn’t need to.

The moment I stepped onto the floor, the music swallowed me. Arms in the air, eyes closed, hips swaying like I hadn’t been overthinking everything since the second I saw him. And then — there he was. Behind me. A hand lightly grazing my hip, like a question mark.

I didn’t stop him.

We moved like that for a while — not speaking, not looking, just feeling. The heat of his body behind mine, his chest at my back, one of his hands trailing down my arm as if he wasn’t sure where he ended and I began. Every movement, every breath, felt like a warning I didn’t listen to.

And then he leaned in.

His lips brushed the shell of my ear as he said, “Tell me to stop.”

I didn’t.

Maybe I couldn’t.

I turned to face him instead. His eyes were darker now, searching, daring. And before I could think better of it, before I could even breathe—he kissed me.

It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t polite. It was months of tension. Years of denial. A thousand unspoken what-ifs igniting in one split second. His hand tangled in my hair, mine fisting the front of his shirt. The world blurred around us. People danced, lights flickered, music pounded—and I didn’t care.

I kissed him like he belonged to no one. Like I wasn’t betraying my best friend. Like I didn’t already know this would ruin everything.

Because in that moment?

I just wanted to feel something.

And God, did I.

—

The kiss didn’t end so much as it broke. A breath, a beat, and then we were staring at each other like we didn’t recognize what we’d just done.

His lips were red, mine were tingling, and somewhere between the club lights and common sense, I let the words slip out:

“Let’s go.”

He didn’t ask where. He didn’t need to. We slipped out through the back — the same way all bad ideas leave clubs at 2 a.m. The air outside was cool and sharp against my flushed skin. A car was already waiting. Of course it was. Lando moved like a man who always expected the night to bend to him.

The taxi ride was quiet, except for the way his hand found mine between us. Not grabbing. Not pulling. Just there. Warm. Real. Dangerous.

He looked out the window. I looked at him.

“This is a bad idea,” I whispered.

“I know.”

I should’ve told the driver to turn around. I should’ve texted Magui. I should’ve said something that sounded like loyalty.

But instead, I followed him into the elevator, twenty-something floors up, heart in my throat and guilt already clawing at my ribs. He swiped his key. The doors opened.

The suite was sleek. Cold. Bigger than my apartment.

He shut the door behind us with a quiet click, and we stood there — still, silent — like if we didn’t move, the weight of what we were doing wouldn’t fall on us yet. Then he stepped forward. And so did I. It wasn’t rushed.

It was worse than that — slow. Careful. Reverent. His hands found my face, then my jaw, his thumb brushing my cheek like he was trying to memorize the shape of regret.

“You don’t have to—” he started.

“I want to,” I said, before I could lie.

Clothes hit the floor like confessions we didn’t say out loud. Every touch felt wrong and right at the same time. His mouth was everywhere — my neck, my collarbone, the curve of my shoulder — and I let him have it all. Not because I didn’t know better. But because for one night, I didn’t care.

His skin was warm, his voice soft when he whispered my name against my throat, and I let myself fall into the way his hands knew exactly how to undo me.

And in the quiet moments in between — when his forehead pressed to mine, when our breaths synced, when he kissed me like I was something more than a distraction — I tried to forget that this wasn’t mine to have. That I’d crossed a line I couldn’t uncross. And that the person I loved most would never see me the same again.

—

I woke up to sunlight bleeding through floor-to-ceiling windows, sharp and unforgiving. My head was pounding, my mouth dry, and the unfamiliar sheets were tangled around my legs like consequences I couldn’t shake off.

It took me all of three seconds to remember.

Lando. His skin. His hands. His mouth.

Last night.

I bolted upright, heart in my throat. The hotel suite was quiet, eerily so, except for the soft rustle of sheets beside me. I glanced over.

He was still asleep.

Hair a mess. Arm thrown carelessly over the pillow where I’d just been. Peaceful. Innocent-looking. Like he hadn’t just helped me commit emotional treason twelve hours ago.

I stood up, grabbing the first oversized shirt I could find — his, obviously — and stumbled toward my phone on the marble counter. Bad idea. Worst idea.

I had five missed calls, three texts from my agent, and a flood of notifications. Instagram, Twitter, even WhatsApp was lit up like a Christmas tree.

I opened one of the DMs. Then another. Then my stomach sank. There it was. A photo of us. Him. Me. The back exit. His hand on my lower back. My head tipped toward him like I was seconds from kissing him again. Oh my god.

“Oh my god,” I said aloud, louder than I meant to.

Lando stirred behind me. “Mm?” he mumbled, voice hoarse, eyes still closed. “You okay?”

“No,” I snapped, spinning around. “No, Lando, I’m not okay.”

He blinked at me, trying to sit up. “What’s going on?”

I held the phone out like it was evidence in a murder trial. “Are you with her?”

He squinted. “What?”

“Magui. Are you and Magui back together?”

He was silent for a second too long.

That was all the answer I needed.

“Oh my god.” My voice cracked. “I thought you were done. You said it was complicated. You let me think—”

“I didn’t let you think anything,” he said quickly, rubbing a hand down his face. “I said it was complicated. It still is. She and I—we weren’t official, not really—”

“Not really?” I echoed. “Lando, she’s my best friend. I just slept with my best friend’s on-again-off-again boyfriend.”

He sat up fully now, panic creeping into his eyes. “Okay, okay. Breathe. Look—we’ll handle it. I’ll talk to her.”

“No,” I said, stepping back, pulse in my ears. “I have to talk to her. I have to fix this.”

I didn’t know if she’d scream or cry or never speak to me again. But I knew one thing with gut-wrenching certainty. Last night had been a mistake. And no matter how good it felt in the moment, I wasn’t the kind of girl who could sleep with someone and pretend the fallout didn’t matter. Especially not when the person I could lose was the one I never wanted to hurt.

—

I didn’t call. I couldn’t. Because if I heard her voice — if she sounded angry, or hurt, or disappointed — I knew I’d fall apart before I could even apologize. So I just got in the car and went. The ride over was a blur. My stomach twisted the whole way there, hands shaking in my lap. My brain kept replaying the headline. The photo. The kiss. The choice I made.

Her building was too familiar. I’d been here a thousand times — hungover brunches, girls’ nights in, crying on her couch after heartbreaks we swore we’d never repeat. And now I was the one who broke the rules. I didn’t know what to expect when she opened the door. Screaming? Crying? A slap in the face? But instead, Magui just… stared at me.

Hair in a messy bun. No makeup. An oversized hoodie and a mug of coffee in her hand like it was just another Sunday. Her eyes flicked down to my face, then my outfit — still half in last night’s regret — and something in her expression shifted. I swallowed hard.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, the words falling out of my mouth like they were on fire. “I didn’t know you were back together. I never would’ve—Magui, I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought you guys were done. I didn’t—”

“Stop,” she said, gently but firmly.

I froze.

She blinked at me. Then tilted her head. “Are you okay?”

I blinked back. “What?”

Magui stepped aside to let me in, shutting the door behind me like this was any other visit. Like I hadn’t just slept with the one person I was never supposed to touch.

“You look like you haven’t slept,” she added. “Did Lando freak out? Of course he did. Men are always worse at cleaning up messes they help make.”

I just stared at her.

“You’re not… mad?”

She let out a soft laugh. Not bitter. Not sharp. Just amused. “Mad? No. A little surprised you didn’t tell me? Maybe. But mad?” She shrugged. “I mean, I did say it was complicated. You’re not the first girl he’s kissed while we were technically on a break.”

I felt like the floor dropped out beneath me. “Magui, we didn’t just kiss…”

She smiled then — slow, sly, a little too knowing. “I figured.”

I stared at her, speechless. “Why are you being so calm about this?”

She took a sip of her coffee, then leaned against the kitchen counter, eyes locking with mine in a way that made something inside me buzz with nerves.

“Because,” she said simply, “if it had been anyone else, maybe I would’ve been pissed. But you?”

She stepped closer. Close enough to make my heart trip.

“You’re the only girl I’ve ever looked at and thought… maybe I wouldn’t mind sharing with.”

I forgot how to breathe.

“I’m serious,” she added, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “You think I didn’t notice the way he looks at you? Or the way you look at me? Come on. I’ve seen the way you stare when you think I’m not looking.”

My mouth opened, but no words came out.

She laughed again, softer this time. “You didn’t betray me, querida. You just… exposed something we’ve all been ignoring.”

She stepped even closer, and my back hit the wall.

“So, now the real question,” she whispered, fingertips lightly grazing my wrist.

“What do you want?”

—

yn_ln

liked by lando, lewishamilton, magui_corceiro and 10,007,002 others.

yn_ln : girls cum first!

tagged : magui_corceiro

—

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username00 : everyone SHUT UP. mothers r mothering together even after that MAN tried to ruin it.

liked by yn_ln and magui_corceiro

magui_corceiro : as they always should ;)

liked by yn_ln

franciscagomes : my girliesss ily

liked by yn_ln and magui_corceiro

username0 : why is lando in the likes?? get out.

↳ username1 : half the grid are in her likes tbh. don't blame them.

lando : cheeky 👀

liked by yn_ln and magui_corceiro

↳ alex_albon : i am so fucking confused.

liked by yn_ln and lando

↳ lilymhe : me too but yn is so hot that i am distracted

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lewishamilton : Stunning as always, YN.

liked by yn_ln

↳ yn_ln : charming as always, mr. hamilton.

liked by lewishamilton

—

I left that conversation rather open...I wasn't sure what to say. And naturally, Magui texted me the next morning like nothing had changed.

Lunch? My treat. You owe me a story.

A winky face. A heart. And I guess… I went. Maybe because I owed her more than just a story. Or maybe because a part of me still hadn’t processed the night before — the way she looked at me, the way her hand grazed my wrist, how her words wrapped around my neck like a silk ribbon I didn’t know what to do with.

You’re the only girl I’d ever share with.

I hadn’t stopped thinking about it since. So I met her at this rooftop café she loved — the kind with overpriced salads, glittering glassware, and the best view of the city. She was already there when I arrived, tucked into a corner booth like a summer goddess in a tiny white dress and gold hoops that caught the sunlight like they had a grudge against everyone else trying to look good.

She looked up, smiled, and waved me over. “You’re late.”

I sat down, suddenly self-conscious in my little black tank and messy bun. “You’re insufferably early. What’s new?”

She laughed — this soft, lazy sound that made my skin buzz. “You look tired.”

“You look smug.”

“I slept better than you, apparently.”

I didn’t reply. She knew exactly why I hadn’t slept. And the fact that she was smiling about it made me dizzy. We ordered — iced coffees, ridiculous truffle fries, something green we wouldn’t finish — and the conversation drifted. Travel. Work. A red carpet she was skipping. A shoot I had next week in Milan. But then she leaned in, chin resting in her hand, eyes fixed on me like she was trying to peel me open.

“Are you still overthinking everything?” she asked, voice low.

I blinked. “I’m not overthinking.”

“You’re literally chewing your straw, meu amor.”

I dropped it instantly. She smiled, then slid her foot against mine under the table — gentle, deliberate.

“You do that thing when you’re nervous. Your shoulders get tight.” Her fingers brushed the top of my arm. “Like this.”

I swallowed. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re spiraling. And for what?” she said, sitting back, picking up a fry like we were talking about the weather. “You made one bad decision.”

“You mean sleeping with your boyfriend?”

Her brows lifted. “Ex-ish. On-again-off-again. Technicality territory. And don’t forget the part where I’m not mad about it.”

“Yeah, I still don’t get that part.”

She tilted her head, eyes glittering. “That’s because you keep thinking in black and white. But people… we’re messy. And maybe I like messy.”

Her voice was soft, but her meaning hit sharp. She reached for my hand — just like that, like it was natural — and started tracing lazy circles over my knuckles with her thumb. It was… grounding and electric all at once. I stared at her, a thousand questions racing through me, none of them landing.

“I like you,” she said. “You know that, right?”

I nodded, because my voice had stopped working.

“And maybe this whole thing isn’t about me and Lando,” she added, eyes locked with mine. “Maybe it’s always been about you.”

I exhaled, shaky. She smiled again — that slow, dangerous kind of smile that made it very clear she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Come out with me tonight,” she said, casually, like it wasn’t a dare. “Just us. No cameras. No pressure. Just… me and you.”

And the way she looked at me — confident, knowing, patient — it made something inside me unravel.

“Okay,” I said, barely above a whisper.

She squeezed my hand. “Good girl.”

And just like that, I was spiraling again — but for an entirely different reason.

—

By the time I made it to the bar, my heart was already pounding. She was waiting for me near the back, in some dimly lit corner of the rooftop lounge. Black dress. Slicked-back hair. That familiar smile like she’d been watching me from the second I walked in.

“Hi, pretty girl,” she said as I slid into the seat next to her.

“Hi.”

She handed me a drink — something pink, bubbly, a little too sweet.

“Drink. Relax. You’ve been thinking too hard since Wednesday.”

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

We clinked glasses. She kept looking at me over the rim of hers like she could see every nerve firing inside my brain. And somehow, that didn’t scare me as much as it should’ve. We talked. Laughed. Shared fries and made fun of people’s shoes. It felt good. Too good, almost — too easy, too safe, like forgetting how complicated this all really was. But every time our knees brushed under the table, or our fingers touched reaching for the same thing, something tugged at me. Something warm. Something dangerous.

“Do you remember Milan?” she asked suddenly, swirling her straw in her drink.

I blinked. “Which part?”

“That night we stayed in, ordered pizza, and danced around in that ugly hotel robe you stole?”

I laughed. “It wasn’t ugly. It was iconic.”

“You wore it like a runway piece. Of course you did.” Her gaze dropped to my lips for just a second. “I wanted to kiss you that night.”

The air left my lungs. I opened my mouth, then closed it again, because I didn’t know what I was about to say — or whether I should say anything at all.

She leaned closer, her voice low. “Did you want me to?”

I couldn’t lie. Not to her. Not now.

“…Yeah,” I whispered. “I think I did.”

Her eyes softened. She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, her fingers brushing along my cheek. The city lights flickered around us, but everything else faded. She didn’t rush. She gave me space — the kind that feels like a question. And when I didn’t pull back… she kissed me. Soft at first. Intentional. Her lips warm, familiar, curious. Like she was asking permission even now — and I gave it to her without hesitation. The kiss deepened, just enough to make my fingers curl into the fabric of her dress. Just enough to feel it — not lust, not confusion, but something slower. Heavier. Real. When she pulled away, her forehead rested gently against mine.

“I’ve been waiting for you to catch up,” she whispered.

“I think I just did.”

She smiled, her thumb stroking my jaw. “Good. Because I’m not sharing you tonight.”

And for once — for the first time in days — my heart didn’t panic. It fluttered.

—

third person pov

Magui was already in his kitchen when he walked out, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, his hoodie hanging off one shoulder, and she was drinking his almond milk straight from the carton like she owned the place. She did that sometimes. Acted like the apartment was hers. Acted like he was.

"Morning," he mumbled.

"You’re out of coffee pods. Again."

He blinked at her. “Did you break in?”

“Spare key,” she said sweetly, setting the carton down. “And a very compelling reason.”

He raised a brow, stepping around her to pour a glass of water. “Let me guess. This has something to do with YN.”

She didn’t answer right away. Just gave him a look — the kind that meant yes, obviously and don’t play dumb, Norris.

Lando leaned back against the counter, glass in hand. “You kissed her, didn’t you?”

Magui tilted her head. “She kissed me back.”

That made his chest tighten. Not with jealousy — something softer. Something almost excited.

“Is she freaking out?” he asked.

“A little,” Magui admitted, walking toward him. “But not in a bad way. She’s thinking. Feeling. I can see it on her. She’s not confused about what she wants, just scared to admit she wants both.”

Lando smirked. “She’s not the only one who should be scared.”

Magui leaned against the counter beside him, shoulder brushing his. “We’re not dangerous, Lando. We’re just honest. For once.”

He looked down at her. “You think she’d go for it? Us. Together.”

Magui nodded without hesitation. “I think she already is. She just doesn’t know how to name it yet.”

He was quiet for a moment, replaying every second of that night with YN. The way she kissed like she didn’t know how to stop. The way she looked at him like she wanted something more, even if she didn’t dare ask for it. And now… she was looking at Magui the same way.

“We can’t push her,” he said carefully. “She’ll bolt.”

Magui smiled, slow and sharp. “Who said anything about pushing?”

Lando looked at her — her confidence, her calm, her certainty. The way she always made chaos feel like a controlled burn. He exhaled slowly.

“So what’s the plan then?”

She grinned. “We love her. Loudly. Softly. Patiently.”

“And if she runs?”

Magui shrugged. “We follow.”

She picked up her phone, tapping out a message with a knowing glint in her eye. “Let her think she’s in control.”

Lando raised a brow. “You’re scary.”

Magui winked. “You love it.”

Magui was already typing out a text to YN.

Drinks tonight? Our place? Bring your pretty mouth and better excuses this time. x

YN’s name lit up below it, typing. Lando didn’t have to read the reply to know she’d say yes. And this time, they wouldn’t let her slip away.

—

your pov

I wasn’t sure why I said yes. Maybe because I didn’t know how to say no. Maybe because a part of me wanted to test what the hell this even was. Or maybe… because deep down, I wanted it. Them. Both of them. I told myself it was just drinks. A casual hang. Something chill. But nothing about stepping into that apartment felt casual.

Lando opened the door with a smirk that was entirely too smug for someone wearing sweatpants and a tight black tee that should’ve been illegal.

“Hey,” he said, voice low, eyes doing a slow sweep of me like I was already undone. “You came.”

“Yeah, well… free alcohol is hard to turn down.”

He chuckled and stepped aside to let me in. The place smelled like something warm and expensive — wood, vanilla, him. The lights were low, music playing faintly from the speakers. Nothing too loud. Nothing that could distract from the fact that he was the only one here.

I glanced around. “Magui not here yet?”

“She’s… around,” he said cryptically. “She’ll be out soon.”

I frowned, but before I could question it, he handed me a glass. Something chilled. Bubbly. Of course.

He gestured toward the couch. “Sit with me.”

So I did. We sat close — not touching, but too near to pretend the tension wasn’t already thick in the air. His knee brushed mine when he shifted. His gaze kept dropping to my lips every time I sipped from my glass.

“You look good,” he said after a beat.

“Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything. Just telling the truth.”

I looked away, suddenly very aware of how warm my skin felt.

“You’ve been different lately,” he added, softer now. “Since… that night.”

“You mean the night we shouldn’t talk about?”

He tilted his head. “You regret it?”

I hesitated. Too long.

“I regret not knowing what it meant,” I admitted.

His eyes darkened, but there was something gentle behind it. “What if it didn’t have to mean one thing? What if it could mean something new?”

I swallowed, unsure what to say — and then I heard her voice.

“Stop hogging her, baby.”

I turned. Magui leaned against the hallway doorframe in a short silk robe and nothing underneath if my eyes were telling the truth. Her hair was loose, her makeup soft, but her smile was all bite. My heart skipped. She walked toward us slowly, like she had all the time in the world. Like this was normal. Like I was hers.

She dropped onto the couch on my other side, tucking herself in close so her thigh pressed against mine. Lando was already on the other side of me, his arm draped along the back of the couch. I was boxed in — not by force. By gravity. Magui reached for my hand, traced my knuckles like she had at lunch, and looked at me like she already knew how this ended.

“We want you,” she said simply. “No games. No secrets. No ‘what are we.’ Just truth.”

Lando leaned in closer, lips ghosting the curve of my shoulder. “Only if you want us too.”

The air felt electric. Like I’d been caught in the eye of a storm I didn’t even realize I walked into. Their hands were soft. Their eyes held no pressure — only promise. And for the first time since all of this started, I didn’t feel guilty. I felt wanted. I set my glass down slowly, heart racing.

And whispered, “Then show me.”

I didn’t say anything else. I didn’t need to.

Magui’s lips were on mine before I could take another breath — soft and certain, like she’d been waiting for that moment since the very first time we locked eyes. Her fingers slid up my neck, threading into my hair, pulling me closer like she wanted to taste every part of my hesitation and replace it with her own rhythm.

Lando’s hand brushed my thigh, grounding me. The contrast between them was dizzying — her kiss was honey and heat, while his touch was fire and restraint. He leaned in behind me, his mouth at my ear.

“Tell us if it’s too much,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “We’ll stop whenever you want.”

But I didn’t want to stop. I wanted more. I turned, catching Lando’s mouth with mine, my fingers clutching the front of his shirt. His kiss was hungrier — less patient than Magui’s, like he’d already had me once and had been thinking about it every night since. When Magui’s lips found the edge of my jaw, trailing kisses down to my throat, I let out a quiet sound I couldn’t hold back.

Their hands moved in tandem — hers on my waist, sliding beneath my top, and his slipping under the hem of my skirt, fingertips tracing just enough to make me shiver. I was caught between them, quite literally — all breath and skin and want. Every shift brought a new sensation: Lando’s lips hot on my collarbone, Magui’s nails grazing down my side, the press of their bodies against mine like they were rewriting me together.

“You’re a little excited,” Magui whispered, but she was smiling — not teasing, not cruel. “You feel everything, don’t you?”

I nodded, eyes fluttering shut as her hand slipped beneath my bra, cupping me in a way that made my breath hitch. Lando was behind me now, kissing the curve of my shoulder, sliding the straps of my top down with maddening control.

“Let us take care of you,” he said against my skin. “Let us have you.”

And I let them. They undressed me like they’d done it before — like they’d thought about this, dreamed about it. Every layer peeled away carefully. No rush. No shame. Just reverence. Magui laid me back on the couch, her mouth returning to mine while Lando’s hands parted my thighs, slow and sure. He kissed up the inside, murmuring things I couldn’t quite catch — words that vibrated against my skin and made my stomach clench. And when Magui trailed kisses down my chest, Lando’s mouth replaced her lips on mine, and I felt the rhythm of both of them, their energy folding over me, touching everywhere at once — I gave in.

To the sensation. To the safety. To them.

Hands and mouths, warmth and wetness, soft gasps and low groans — it all blurred together in a haze of pleasure and trust. Every time I cried out, Magui kissed it from my lips. Every time I arched, Lando held me steady. I wasn’t just wanted — I was worshipped. And when they finally brought me over the edge, both of them watching, touching, kissing, whispering my name like it was something holy — I realized this wasn’t about chaos or confusion anymore. It was about belonging. They didn’t just seduce me. They claimed me. Together.

—

I woke up warm. Not just from the sunlight slipping through half-drawn curtains or the lingering heat between my thighs, but from the weight of them — Magui curled against my back, Lando draped over my front, his arm looped around my waist like he wasn’t letting go anytime soon. For a moment, I didn’t move.

I just breathed. Let myself exist in the stillness of it. The calm after the storm. My skin still tingled, my lips were swollen, and my body ached in that delicious, heavy way that only came after being touched exactly how you needed.

Magui stirred behind me first, her nose brushing against the back of my neck.

“Mmm… you’re awake,” she murmured, her voice husky and warm with sleep.

I smiled into the pillow. “Barely.”

Lando made a soft sound of protest from the other side of me and nuzzled closer, his arm tightening around my waist. “Too early,” he mumbled. “Five more years.”

Magui giggled, her hand slipping up to rest gently over my heart. “You’re such a baby.”

“You wore me out,” he shot back, voice still heavy with sleep, but amused.

“You’re welcome,” I muttered, which earned a soft hum of approval from both of them.

We laid there for a while, tangled together in a silence that wasn’t awkward. It was… easy. Like we were exactly where we were supposed to be. It should’ve felt confusing. Maybe even wrong. Instead, it felt like peace.

Eventually, I turned onto my back, both of them shifting with me like we were connected by something invisible. Magui propped her head on her hand, looking down at me with that slow, unreadable smile of hers.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

I nodded, eyes flicking between them. “Yeah. Actually… I think I am.”

Lando stretched, looking far too pleased with himself for someone whose curls were a complete mess. “Told you we’d take care of you.”

“You also told me you wouldn’t fall asleep immediately after,” I teased.

“That’s slander.”

Magui laughed and leaned down, pressing the gentlest kiss to my shoulder. “We’re serious, you know.”

I looked up at her. “About…?”

“You,” she said. “Us.”

Lando’s fingers found mine beneath the sheets. “Only if you want it.”

I swallowed, staring at the ceiling for a moment — then at them. Their eyes, still soft. Their hands, still on me like I was something worth holding onto.

“I don’t know what this is,” I said honestly. “Or what it means yet.”

Magui nodded, unbothered. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Lando pressed a kiss to the back of my hand. “We’re not going anywhere.”

—

yn_ln

liked by magui_corceiro, lando, alexandrasaintmleux and 11,007,007 others.

yn_ln : no comment. just my recent chaos.

tagged : lando and magui_corceiro

—

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username00 : um are we ignoring the literal kiss with her and magui???

↳ username0 : i feel like they r just close like that. what we really are ignoring is lando making the dump and the last photo...that is clearly A MANS hand.

carlossainz55 : no entiendo nada pero me encanta

liked by yn_ln

↳ carlossainz55 : also choosing to ignore the fact that you are a barcelona fan 🤮

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↳ yn_ln : visca el barçaaaaaaaaaa baybeeeeeee

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username1 : this post has LORE and I’m here to decode it 🔍

magui_corceiro : your chaos is my favorite kind. 💋

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↳ yn_ln : need another kiss rn

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↳ magui_corceiro : on my way babes

↳ lando : ME TOOOOO WAIT FOR ME

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↳ username5 : officially so fucking confused

↳ alex_albon : get on the train. i've been confused for weeks and i know these people.

liked by lando, yn_ln and magui_corceiro

—

Magui and I boarded first, sunglasses on, coffee cups in hand, sliding into the plush cream leather seats like we did every time. She claimed the window seat immediately, like always. I stretched out beside her, barefoot already, and pulled a blanket over both our laps.

Lando arrived five minutes late, hoodie up, sleep in his eyes, and dragging a backpack he hadn’t even bothered to zip. He dropped into the seat across from us with a groan and zero grace.

“This was a mistake,” he muttered, muffled into the seat cushion.

“You begged to come with us,” Magui said, sipping her drink. “Don’t act like a hostage.”

“You’re both insufferable,” he mumbled.

“You’re lucky we let you sit near us,” I added sweetly.

He cracked one eye open and gave me a lazy smile. “You wouldn’t survive five minutes without me.”

“Is that a challenge?” Magui quipped, raising a brow.

Lando rolled his eyes, but didn’t move — just kicked his feet up, stretched his legs across the aisle, and left one hand lazily draped over the armrest… which “just happened” to brush against my leg.

The hum of the engines and soft clink of glassware blended into that peaceful kind of silence only private flights could give you — no strangers, no press, no noise except the occasional comment from Magui when she found something ridiculous on Pinterest.

“You two are freakishly coordinated,” Lando said at one point, glancing at our matching claw clips and identical socks. “It’s like watching a cult.”

“They’re bows,” Magui said without looking up. “And you’re just mad you can’t pull them off.”

“You’re terrifying,” he replied, sipping his orange juice. “Both of you.”

Magui reached across me to tug on his hoodie string. “Jealous you weren’t invited to the slumber party.”

“I was invited,” he said, smirking now. “I’m the emotional support.”

I grinned. “You’re just here for the snacks.”

“That’s rich coming from someone who ate three croissants before takeoff.”

“Self-care,” I said. “Don’t be a hater.”

Magui leaned her head on my shoulder and whispered, “He’s pouting. It’s kind of hot.”

Lando groaned. “I swear, one day I’m gonna walk off this jet mid-air.”

“Do a flip,” I whispered back.

We all fell asleep eventually — the kind of hazy, luxurious nap only a jet could grant you. Magui had her head in my lap, her hand loosely around my wrist. Lando had stretched out across two seats, one leg hanging off, one hand still brushing my ankle like even in his sleep he couldn’t help it. I woke up first. The cabin was warm and quiet, lit only by the afternoon sun pouring through the windows. I reached for my phone and opened my camera roll — scrolled through blurry selfies, Magui’s bare shoulder under hotel sheets, Lando kissing my cheek in a moment I didn’t even remember capturing. One photo stopped me: the three of us tangled on the bed, laughing, undone, us. I saved it to my favorites.

Lando stirred across from me, eyes half-lidded, voice thick with sleep. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “Just thinking.”

He smiled, slow and sleepy. “Still weird?”

I looked down at Magui’s face, peaceful in sleep, curled into me like she belonged there. My fingers grazed the side of her arm.

“No,” I said. “Not weird at all.”

He nodded like he already knew.

Then he muttered, “Still want snacks though.”

And just like that, we were back to normal — whatever our version of that was now.

—

The room was quiet, warm, filled with the kind of stillness that only happens when you’ve run out of words — not because there’s nothing to say, but because nothing needs to be said. Magui sat at the edge of the bed, brushing out her damp hair in one of Lando’s oversized t-shirts, legs bare, skin glowing from her evening skincare routine. Lando was on the couch by the window, hoodie pulled over his curls, legs stretched out, staring out over the lights of the city below like he was trying to slow the world down before race day hit him full force. I stood somewhere in the middle — between them, between sleep and thought, between this is happening and this is mine.

“You’re pacing,” Magui said softly, not looking up.

“I’m thinking,” I replied.

Lando didn’t move from the window, but I saw his smirk in the reflection. “Same thing, if you’re her.”

I rolled my eyes, finally making my way toward the bed. Magui reached for me instantly, like she was waiting. Her fingers curled around my wrist, pulling me down beside her, one leg draping lazily over mine.

“You’re allowed to just be,” she murmured.

“Hard habit to break.”

Lando joined us a minute later, dropping beside me with a sigh that sounded more like relief than exhaustion. He leaned his head on my shoulder, his hand reaching for Magui’s without a word. She laced her fingers through his, like they’d done it a thousand times. Like this had always been the plan.

“Big day tomorrow,” I said, even though none of us really needed to hear it aloud.

He hummed. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got my good luck charm.”

I raised a brow. “Oh yeah?”

He looked up at me. Then at Magui. “Both of them.”

Something soft cracked open in my chest. Magui leaned in first, pressing a gentle kiss to my shoulder. Lando followed, brushing his lips just under my jaw — not rushed, not heated, just there. Warm and steady. Real. The three of us shifted until we were lying back on the bed, limbs overlapping, tangled in sheets and skin and something too new to name but too certain to ignore. Magui’s head rested over my heart. Lando’s arm wrapped around my waist, thumb tracing lazy patterns into my ribs. I stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of them both and the strange lightness they brought with them.

“I still don’t know what this is,” I whispered.

Lando kissed my collarbone. “It’s whatever we want it to be.”

“No rules,” Magui added sleepily, “just honesty.”

“And lots of kisses,” Lando said. “That’s non-negotiable.”

I laughed — a small, genuine sound that only came out when I felt safe.

Magui looked up at me, her lashes fluttering. “You feel safe now?”

I nodded, threading my fingers through her hair. “I think I’ve never felt safer.”

Lando kissed the top of my head. “Then we’re doing something right.”

We fell asleep like that — wrapped up in each other, quiet and full and whole in a way I hadn’t known I was missing until they gave it to me. And for the first time before a race weekend… I didn’t feel like I was waiting for something to fall apart. I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be.

—

f1gossipgirls

4,001,005 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Double Trouble? YN and Magui Corceiro Seen in the Paddock — Together — Supporting Lando Norris. If you thought one blonde beauty in the paddock was enough to raise eyebrows, try two. Spanish Supermodel YN and Portuguese starlet Magui Corceiro were both spotted at the Grand Prix this weekend — and let’s just say, the energy was not subtle. Fans captured photos of the two women chatting and laughing with Lando Norris’ mum, hinting at a comfort level that goes way beyond casual friends or supportive exes.

Even more interesting? Sources say YN was seen sharing a quick kiss with Norris just before he stepped into the garage — while Magui stood nearby, smiling like she was in on the secret. The trio haven’t commented on the growing speculation about their relationship dynamic, but between matching outfits, late-night Instagram stories, and now a cozy chat with Lando’s mother, the rumors practically write themselves. No confirmation yet — but the paddock tension? It’s giving poly-coded. Stay tuned.

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It started with a hand on my back. Light. Barely there. But unmistakably his. Lando didn’t say anything at first. Just stood behind me while I talked to one of the PR girls I’d met a few races ago, his hand grazing my lower back like a casual habit. Like he’d done it a hundred times. Like it didn’t make my entire body burn. Magui was a few feet away, talking animatedly to one of the McLaren engineers like she owned the place — laughing, gesturing, a vision in low-rise jeans and a vintage racing jacket that I swore she stole from Lando’s closet. She caught my eye mid-sentence. Winked. I nearly choked on my water.

People didn’t really question why I was here anymore. I was “friends with the team.” A face they’d gotten used to. But there was something different now. The way I moved between them — between him and her. The way Lando didn’t flinch when his hand slipped around my waist in front of the crew. The way Magui tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear while we waited by the garage, like it was just something she did. It all felt natural. Dangerous. Beautiful.

I stood next to Magui during quali, both of us in sunglasses and team colors, and didn’t miss the subtle glances from the photographers — the way lenses lingered, not quite sure what they were catching. Lando walked past at one point, suit half on, helmet in hand. He slowed just enough to tap my waist and press a kiss to my temple.

“You good?” he murmured.

“Always,” I whispered back.

He smiled, then turned to Magui. “You behaving?”

“Absolutely not,” she said, grinning.

He jogged off and left us both standing there, half-laughing and trying not to look too pleased with ourselves. Later, we found ourselves in hospitality, tucked in a quiet corner. Magui sat with her legs thrown over mine, her fingers brushing patterns into my knee while I scrolled through photos from the day. Lando slid into the booth beside us like he’d been summoned.

“Tired?” he asked, nudging his thigh against mine.

I nodded. “You race. I survive the chaos you cause.”

He smirked. “Same thing.”

Someone across the room was definitely taking pictures. I could feel it. But neither of them seemed to care. And somehow, for once, neither did I. Because this was ours. And whether the world knew or not…I did.

—

It was too hot to be drinking tea, but Lando’s mum had insisted — and honestly, when Cisca offered something, you didn’t say no. We were at the back of the McLaren hospitality unit, tucked away in a little lounge area with floral mugs, little lemon biscuits, and an aggressive air conditioning unit humming above us.

Magui was cross-legged beside me, one arm draped lazily over the back of the cushioned bench, her head tilted to watch Cisca with that familiar, amused fondness she reserved for only a handful of people. I stirred my tea, more for something to do with my hands than anything.

Cisca smiled at us both over the rim of her cup. “You girls travel more than he does. It’s impressive.”

Magui grinned. “We’re emotional support. Jet-lagged, over-caffeinated support.”

Cisca laughed — that kind of low, knowing laugh that made you feel like you were in on something.

“He’s been different,” she said, not looking at either of us directly. “Happier.”

My heart flipped. Magui reached for a biscuit, broke it in half, and offered me the bigger piece without thinking. “He’s got a lot to be happy about.”

Cisca gave us both a look — not suspicious, not surprised. Just observant. The way mothers are. And then, after a quiet beat: “I don’t need to ask questions,” she said, taking another sip. “I’ve been around long enough to know love when I see it.”

I blinked. My fingers tightened around the mug. Magui, as always, recovered first. “Is this the part where you say you’ll kill us if we break his heart?”

Cisca shook her head, smiling. “No, darling. This is the part where I say thank you — for looking after him. And each other.”

Something cracked open in my chest. All the nerves, all the quiet what-ifs I hadn’t even let myself voice, slipped a little further away. Because it wasn’t just approval. It was acceptance. Magui bumped her knee against mine under the table, and I felt her fingers brush mine softly, like she was checking if I was okay. I didn’t say anything. But I smiled — and squeezed back. And maybe for the first time in this whole strange, beautiful mess of a relationship… I let myself believe it was real.

—

lando

liked by yn_ln, magui_corceiro, carlossainz55 and 15,001,004 others.

lando : B-O-A-F. BOAF? BOAF.

love my girls

tagged : yn_ln and magui_corceiro

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view 778,004 other comments.

username00 : we need a lando masterclass bc how did he pull them both????

↳ lando : my big d-

↳ yn_ln : what can i say? he is a charmer.

liked by lando and magui_corceiro

carlossainz55 : this is quite literally the most lando way to hard launch.

liked by lando, yn_ln and magui_corceiro

danielricciardo : i leave and suddenly you know how to talk to girls.

liked by lando, yn_ln and magui_corceiro

↳ lando : i know how to do more than talk

liked by danielricciardo

↳ yn_ln : lando.

liked by lando and danielricciardo

↳ lando : sorry mom- mommy.

liked by yn_ln and magui_corceiro

oscarpiastri : the math still is not mathing on how you got even one of them let alone the both of them but i am...happy for you. slightly impressed even.

liked by lando, yn_ln and magui_corceiro

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johanna-swann · 8 days ago

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You know, now that I think about it - whatever the members of the firefamily received from one another in terms of support after Bobby's death, Buck kind of got the opposite.

Eddie gets a job offer not only away from the 118, but in a different state and the 118 throw him a party. Buck talks about a career decision and is met with nothing but silence.

Hen makes an unexpected decision concerning her role in the 118 and gets the reassurance that she has to do what's right for her. Buck is told he's making a mistake and that it'd be stupid for him to take a job at a different firehouse.

Athena tries to do her lone wolf thing, retreats a little and puts up a strong façade, but her friends don't buy it and still seek her out to check on her and let her know she doesn't need to do this alone and whatever feelings she has about Bobby's death, they're valid. Buck puts on a strong mask and holds himself together by a thread, his friends notice that something seems off immediately and they start avoiding him like the plague because they can't be bothered to deal with him I guess.

Chimney feels guilty, like he should've done more, should've noticed something was wrong, should've saved Bobby. But he does not only get Buck talking him off a ledge and Maddie urging him to not shut her out and share his pain with her, he even gets forgiveness from Athena in the end because she knows none of this is Chim's fault and she just needed a second to get there. Buck is told to make Bobby's death less about himself, like he should share even less of his own grief and think about the others more, is told that maybe Bobby's death was preventable and he just didn't try hard enough to save him and Eddie doesn't even apologise for saying any of that.

The only people who actually tried to comfort Buck are Maddie who at least asked how he was doing even if Buck gave her only a short and superficial answer and Tia Pepa who was a godsend tbh. Both of them tried to help, but Maddie didn't dig deeper (she had a lot on her plate herself, I don't blame her) and Pepa didn't even know Bobby. It was nice of her to comfort Buck, but they can't grief together the way other members of the firefam did.

Like. All of the family members that were close to Bobby got so, so, so much support from each other, but nobody even talked to Buck and that hasn't changed by the end of the finale and they didn't even give Buck and Tommy another scene to indicate that Buck isn't entirely alone. How am I supposed to see this as normal? It's not! They distanced themselves from Buck and when Buck eventually gave up on reaching out to the others and looked for distance himself they saw it as Buck abandoning the family. God I hope the show does something about this in season 9, ideally they even adress it. It could be Buck's 9a storyline, how everyone is moving on but he feels stuck because he never grieved properly or something.

#911 abc #911 spoilers #evan buckley #bucktommy

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nieranddear · 9 months ago

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I know it was probably supposed to be to be in tags but I soon realized that it just Couldn't possibly fit so... here is a whole 3k+ word semi structured ramble on the matter [being Ayin and what the hell that man is] and my own thoughts on him. I hope you’re fine with it

Sympathetic, yes. Excused and able to be seen as a saint or the sort where his actions are 'justifiable' or that he is a 'good man'? Oh fuck no. Absolutely not. How about a Monster? Easily a flat out no. Does that make him a horrible person or ‘bad person’? I can’t say for sure as the definition of both depends on who you ask, but in mine it he isn’t a ‘bad person’. It would be far easier to be able to call him a bad person. A Monster. But he isn’t. He’s a person with numerous sins and blood on his hands but ultimately he is just a Person. Human. Painfully Human. Mind you, I've only played Lobcorp. Nothing on Ruina so perhaps my opinion may change. I will say this first. Just because he expresses guilt and remorse, just because he actively shows and expresses care for those around him in forms to where it was true and unfiltered [Abel “ Fatigue and Waiting” meltdown, Abram “Regret and Atonement” meltdown, day 40 literally deadass] it doesn't mean shit to those he hurt if he, Ayin, the man at his core, doesn't go ahead and attempt to Make It So his wrongs are even somewhat put right. Which he does. In a way that I’ll talk about in mixed feelings later. It doesn't resolve him of the 'sins' or his faults. But he is so so painfully Human. Which is why I do like him, as a character at least, and can feel sympathy for his plight. Just because one feels sympathy doesn’t mean that the person they can feel it towards is ‘clean’ or doesn’t hold ‘sin’ or, in a way that sounds less pretentious and used more commonly in the internet, ‘unproblematic’.

Perhaps the main problem with him is that he never did Stop. A huge thing when revolving around him. Not looking back, refusing in a way and unable in another. Be it in needing progress, to a want to achieve the goal he sees entrusted onto him from, seemingly, a woman he joined the project for and solely for as “...She wanted to save them, and guide their souls back… to dedicate herself to save humanity. Yet I, who held no such ambition, had to continue her legacy” [Day 50]. No such ambition to save humanity, for he “Lost [his] heart” and had known for a “very long time.”. Yet he didn’t stop and continued to carry her will and bring the Project to an end and was determined to do so by any means necessary For Her. Be it by not turning around to look at the bodies along his path or the fact guilt holds so heavy on his body he doesn’t look to see such a thing [Elijah, Binah's story [4] "And what happened to that coward? The one who with fear averted his gaze from my dying one." “Erasing your memories and running away from them as if nothing happened is your age-old specialty.”, Day 40 and the existence of the cognition filter in the first place and the response ‘Can you stop the recording, please?’, Abel on Day 47 “Yet you did not care to witness his final moments.”]. Or dulling himself to the atrocities he gradually grew and tumbled down into as the domino chain kept falling and the thorns along that past never subsided, getting even more grueling of a path to endure as time went on. The part that has me struggle to pin him as a ‘mastermind’ or the sort is the fact he Does express that guilt and remorse and even acknowledgement for his faults and acts.

Even though I did say it ‘didn’t mean shit’. Yes, to those he hurt it doesn’t, yet it doesn’t automatically disqualify either side’s pain. You can’t just go ahead and decide that one person’s suffering isn’t able to be taken into account solely due to the fact they also inflicted pain and hurt. Even if you don’t agree nor forgive, it still Does exist. If you shut out another solely due to the fact of personal vendetta or general hate you’re still silencing another. Yes, you can have an opinion but completely disregarding another, even if you did deem them ‘horrible’, is still Disregarding Another’s Feelings and Pain or even how they got to that point. He is someone that holds care. Yet he is also someone who did some unforgivable shit. Which is fine to not be fine with. But focusing on one side, that part of ‘Cruelty’ or part of ‘Affection’ without acknowledging the other is still ignoring the facets of the man. Which he has many of. He is someone that shows remorse and has a whole struggle with existing which can be seen in the later days. He is someone that can be seen calling it what it is. [Abram’s mentioning of them becoming “cruel” “We destroyed everything while holding her warmth in our hands.” Abram in his entirety even if the words are soaked inside guilt and self-hate it’s still aware of the actions, of day 50 and in its entirety “As you can see, we’ve become just like other Wings, committing atrocities just like them. The employees here have repeated hundreds upon thousands of deaths… My friends were robbed of their lives and trapped in this cycle of agony… All while I just sat and watch, justifying it all as the means to realize her ideal. This sin shall never be forgiven.”, Day 47’s “You realized how innocent, talented souls of young persons were trapped into machines by your hands, haven’t you?”] The idea of ‘Well why didn’t he Just stop? Just Notice it then? Not Do all of these heinous acts? Why didn’t he talk to Michelle and not experiment on Giovanni? Why didn’t he not force the procedure on Gabriel and not turn around and be safer with the key and with Elijah?’ It’s because he’s Human. He, Ayin, is a man shown to not stop at any means to realize a goal. Ayin is a man who doesn’t seem to be able to stop in his own mind, as shown before, and also a man who quite literally Didn’t Realize at the time what would happen with Elijah and Gabriel. Of the hazy specifics on the experiment with Enoch which was voted for as they didn’t want to lose their ‘binding light and ideal’ Carmen [Who is ultimately Human I love Carmen but this is a post about Ayin]. A man good with machines and the scientific part of things, methodical in the creation of a script, yet lacking inside the aspects that relate to the emotional response [See the ‘Old Lab’ as I don’t quite know the name so that is what I’ll be referring to it as with Michelle, Gabriel, Elijah, the lack of words to Daniel in the end, hurting the heart of the man that stayed by him to the end where he left as well. The obsession and drive for the project causing those nearby him to die. For the drive to get results and progress on research to complete the goal causing him to also be blinded by that and finally directly have blood on his hands with Giovanni not including the self blame of ‘driving her to her death’ (Paraphrased) with Carmen.] It’s only after the fact and after he is forced to stop [The Project halting in a way and the loops taking place over years and years] or after the fact itself [The talks from A when a Core Meltdown is about to happen and after it does is known to be after the fact though the actual time of realization is hazy, either it be directly after the death or awhile after, but it doesn’t matter as it is a realization that occurs after the tragedy happened] does he realize the mistakes and faults when looking back. [This can also be seen in Abel in his entirety. “We were too naive. I could only realize what wrongdoings we have done after transiently passing all these years.”]

It’s the fact he is self-reflective in the terms of knowing his faults after the fact, the fact he punishes himself [Loops, Binah [4] “Why is he down here suffering the same punishment as I?”, Day 35, Direct calling of this as a ‘Prison’ multiple times.], the fact that even still he persists for the wish of another when wanting to “Fade” and “Be forgotten” [Day 47, Hokma Story 5, the elaborate farewell that is day 50, the desire and want to “Fade away without a trace” seen inside the Final Days and Hokma’s Story 5], the fact he sinks so commonly into the pit of guilt and regret [Abram in his entirety huge emphasis on Abram and his existence, Day 38 “It was also my role to butter you up with plain words, to help you avoid sinking into the pit of guilt”, Day 40 Again.], the fact he tries to rectify his mistakes and still pursue the goal of another, all for another [Day 43 “ I did not approve of you placing the Sephirot here. However, you told me that your atonement and the awakening of the Sephirot were key to the untying of this knot I lie in.”, the fact he sees himself as a core cause of Carmen’s death and feeling as he needs to complete her will in a way because of her no longer being there, the whole facility being ‘Penance’ mentioned by Adam who is a whole other thing that is fairly simple yet wordy to even talk about]. Ayin is a Man. Not a monster. Nor a genius manipulator that pulled every single string for his Script brings the ‘play’ to conclusion and the Project to its end in that part but still neglects various this [being emotional/mental aspects which is a common thing with him. That and completely lacking Angela in the end without her ever getting a conclusion in his script. STUPID script by the way]. He’s a Man who, when running to a goal, wouldn’t look back and almost in a way couldn’t for he had to bury that emotional response to be able to bear it all. A man who, inside his grief, is seen and stated to be is irritable and irrational [Snow Queen entry, Day 31 “If a ray of sunlight breaks your heart and collapses your mind with longing and nostalgia… And seeing plants outside evokes an unknown rage, tearing down your rational thought… Then we have no choice but to stay underground”]. A man who acknowledges himself [Abram] that he isn’t “normal” nor sane. A man who saw that he needed to bury his emotions underneath rationality and for his goal and who, scarily, started to become numb and apathetic to the acts the longer they went on. Became numb. Those actions that instilled fear, as it was stated to be fear, slowly happening again and again and causing the numbness. Just… the entirety of the Final Days and especially day 47 on this specific matter. Lobotomy corporation is a wonderful game I adore but it doesn’t know the word ‘subtly’ in any manner of speaking. If it wants to communicate something, it’ll say it upright. Which makes it a bit more confusing when some words may be seen as deceitful . Yes, it’s a good thing to think about the intent behind the words, but also just the plain style of how the story is delivered doesn’t make much wiggle room as it ends up plainly laying it out to the reading. It’s Very Clear on it. You see the struggles of the Sephirot, and then it is mirrored inside A, Ayin, himself. That’s how the game is also literally structured. Needing those answers from the Sephirot who mirror his own agony and struggle in order to tell those resolutions and resolves he saw inside those people to the fragments of himself.

I totally understand why people would hate him or dislike him as a character. He's hurt so many people and taken so many lives. Done things seen as 'too far' which, yeah, absolutely can see that and I'm not excited to learn about how exactly the rest of this City functions as well. Do I believe him to be a monster? Nothing of the sort. All of his struggle stems from the fact he is so rawly Human. Do I believe he needs to be forgiven? No. No. I don't believe he should be for his actions. I don't think he Needs to be forgiven. I think they need to, his faults, be addressed. In fact it feels weird when people just forgive him for it all. He, himself, states something of the like on Day 50. He's left so many with wounds and scars that won't heal. Hurt the hearts of those nearby him and left until there was none and then only Angela which I’m not well equipped to talk about as from what I’ve heard LOR discusses her own journey and pains. But I feel as if saying he's a ‘monster’ completely ignores the other parts of his character which Are There. He’s not a messiah or anything idealized, nor is he without fault, nor does that pain and guilt erase everything. He's a person who is stubborn and adamant on achieving something when he goes ahead and dedicates himself to a cause. He’s someone who doesn’t communicate and whose face is commonly flat most of the time and seen to be in the memories at the least [Hokma, Gebura story, Day 50 expressions]. He's someone who held such love in his heart as I tend to point out in other parts and get stuck on, they used ‘Loved ones’ to describe the others. He’s someone who fully felt as if the will to live and exist died the moment Carmen did, as if his life held no meaning, as if dependent on her [Day 47 stated, shown in practice further Day 48]. He’s someone who used justifications and passing things off in the sake of a goal that he clings to as it was one of the only things he had left of Carmen at that point, especially since it was a request asked of Carmen herself. Justifications for numerous amounts of agony and torment. Grief that shrouded his actions in pain and irritability and cruelty. Yet a man who also still holds himself accountable and hates himself for feeling unable to protect those people who he considers dear to him. A man who deems himself and his existence as "very wrong". "Wrong from the start."

It feels as if some people are reluctant to bring up aspects of him? Brought up before it feels as if a layer or aspect of Ayin is taken and then the other parts of him fall to the wayside. Not quite sure where to go with this but it's a thing that feels as if it occurs. I say feel for I can't find any actual concrete examples so I won't say 'notice' or that it 'totally does happen!' so I'll leave that thought as this small section since I can't elaborate further

Ayin is Fucked. Absolutely, thoroughly. Yet in a way that the patterns and rationale for being brought to that point is understandable of How. I can’t find it in me to look for sources right now but from what I remember it’s as if Carmen was his only source to strive for. A blinding beacon that wasn’t like any other who had an earnest wish to save and support those inside this hell hole of a City that so easily seems to cut down and devalue life. One stated to be of survival where fear needs to be consumed to continue on living. Of one so focused upon advancements where the idea of empathy has degraded, systematically at least in that stand point. Endless continuation stepping over the bodies of others. Yet Carmen was always said and shown to be so vastly different. It feels as if he kind of clung to her in a way. As if a whole part of him physically Died the moment she could never smile anymore. Almost extremely dependent. It's easy to see how a man so attached could end up doing such things if it seems as if the person he felt took his Being away when she died asked it of him. Do I think that Ayin was doing this completely inside of how she would’ve wished or wanted? NO. She literally states herself that her goal wasn’t to become a wing yet L corp ends up as a wing for reasons relating to the monitoring of the Head. One of MANY examples, the other being the, oh I don’t know, numerous amounts of bodies they had to step over with. Perhaps the "Unique cruelty unable to be found in any other wing." Yet it's also stated that Ayin’s very heart is described as a void where the pieces of a heart used to be or something along those lines. That he shows a crushing and suffocating amount of guilt for everything. That he closed his eyes and ears to everything to become numb. Yet a facet of himself still basically berates and Knows deeply and regrets for if he didn't why the Hell would Abram exist? Yet, again, this brings into the fact that just because he regets it all and shows remorse and a want for repentance if he doesn't actually end up doing something relating to it or even communicate it to others it, on its own, won't 'Mean' much. I say 'mean' as emotions do, even if not communicated, have weight. But also this is a man who had done horrific, heinous shit. Let's see some Change, brother, come on man stop getting stuck inside that cycle and idea of the inability to move forward or change the past actions you also hate and the path you took that stripped you away of what could be considered your 'humanity'. Learn to. Well. Live. Live with it, too. Which is a whole thing they're trying to get people to do. Live. Not just survive. Practice what you want to bring forth and preach, man. Even if it were for the sake of another. Do it for her...

[Next part is from souly the perspective of someone that has yet to Play LOR but will soon.]

On the idea of how they handled him at the end of Lobcorp…. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I HOPE. I HOPE that they bring him back. Not in a way to where he has to be an active figure, but more of to where he can’t just fade away or forgotten the way he yearned to. I want that fucker to face what he has done. I don’t want him to be able to fulfill the Seed of Light Project and that’s it. There’s so much he has to atone for. It feels almost cheap to just have it seemingly stop at day 50 the way it did. I Want him to be able to atone [not to be confused with needless and endless berating for it will get nowhere]. To try and own up to his actions. To be that ‘better person’ he so deems himself incapable of being constantly. To not ‘Fade’ like he so wants to and actively yearns for and that want to die. No one has to forgive nor forget. I don’t want that shit to be swept under the rug so doing such a thing would feel flat. Gaping wounds he left behind hadn’t ever been fully addressed. The Sephirot found their reasons and ability to keep going in the Company but never really any active repentance or show of remorse Directly To Them by Ayin. Hey, big problem with Ayin, He Doesn’t Communicate Or Express when he is feeling things. One of the only reasons we as the viewer are even able to sort him out internally is because we see it all from His View. God I just HOPE that they do something more with him. They made a character that encompasses all of the struggles and pains of the others, yet not just used as a narrative device for ‘hey, get better and push on! Face your past! Confront it and even if you can’t find the ‘Answer’ or ‘Reason’ to now, just the ability to change and face and bear it is a start to even begin to Live!’ I know it was likely due to time constraints or how the game itself is structured. The days system that’s limited with the further details on Ayin and Carmen being crammed into the later parts after the rest as the lower layer seems to be implemented near the final parts when they actually added Carmen as an entity entirely from what can be reviewed and recalled at the moment. Either way, I really want him to finally not be a bitch when it comes to the others and actually start expressing that love he so feels for the rest by Doing something for Them. Instead of it all just being the project or bringing them back which was, indeed, a goal they all wanted but it was also done by the huge drive to finish Carmen's dream and will. Not for the Sephirot themself though perhaps there was also a drive to do it for them but I cannot say as it was never stated from what I can remember. I want him to do something, anything for the people he forcibly brought back. For Them. To Them. Directly. Hell, even him having to go ahead, even after seeking to fade ‘fading’ actively, to try and build up something be it physically or mentally to give back to the world he took too much from and caused so much pain to would be nice to see. It won’t make it better nor will it ever erase what happened, but it will be Something. Finally.

There are many parts I missed. Still so much I want to talk about. But I’ll stop here as this already is so much. I hope it’ll be at least somewhat interesting or informative to try and help with your curiosity on the matter

Tl;dr. Ayin. I love him because of his various parts that cannot be separated that make up the whole of this man I can't stop myself from being enamored with. I mean parts mentally and literally. I'm getting the ice pick for him to make this a REAL Lobotomy Corporation

probably going to regret asking this, but I want to know what the vibe is:

I know opinions are gonna be very complex, just choose the answer closest to what you feel. explain in the tags if you must.

And only choose "played LobCorp" if you've actually played the game, any level of completion. "haven't played" covers other ways of experiencing the game, like let's plays, wiki reading, secondhand knowledge from later entries, etc. I want to specifically understand any difference in opinion between those who have/have not played.

#[LCorp]#I would say 'this is my general thoughts' but that feels as if I didn't just admit this was over 3k words at the start #It's SOME of my thoughts. Some. I wish it could be all but then we would be here all day #I hope this isn't Too much...#[Long Post]#It feels very different of an experience than having Not played it as how much of A sees and built this place is intertwined with how the #game presents itself I suppose... It hit far more hard for me than just reading/watching a play through. Especially core suppressions #Sorry for not having some examples or sources for some when others do. It felt wordy at times and also I got uhhhh Lazy after a few hours #It's just a ramble and nothing that can count as 'analysis' or the sort in my standards so it felt like far too much effort that would--#only serve to burn me out. Still I hope it can be of some interest or use #Never clarified: Played it completely of all days though I am at the moment still getting 100% on the second run #Perhaps it may sound harsh on the idea of 'forgiveness' but that is also in part due to my own inability to property 'quantify' or #go ahead and deem what is 'forgivable' and what 'isn't' when it doesn't come to obvious extremes. Or what 'forgiveness' really is at the #-- core of it all...#I would include a part about angela bit i am Not Equipped Enough to even BEGIN talking about her #im so so sorry angela...#General thoughts on her treatment even from a lobcorp point and some things i was able to see on lor. hey. hey what the FUCK #i do feel sympathy even still. then again i feel sympathy of people who horribly mistreat me just say 'sorry' in an earnest way #so im not the best person to go to for that. will i stop someone from beating him up the head with a metal pipe?...#...no.

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thewritingfairy · 2 months ago

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↪ 07. An explosion of emotions

PREV PART trigger warnings: anger, medical + emotional neglect, shouting, Reader loses their shit because Jason triggers their fight and flight, mental breakdown, mentions of wanting to die, basically a very angsty and dark chapter misgendering (Reader isn't out yet), introduction of a dc character main m.list series m.list

Ignorance is bliss, and you wish you kept that ignorance. After Maria sent you an article that has been logging Penguin crimes, you just couldn’t help but research them obsessively as you walk back to the manor.

You wince as you see a mugshot from your supervisor flash by. Yeah, you are closing this article and forgetting everything you read. The job pays well, and when you get into university you’ll just quit and get a job or two on campus. It will most likely be shit pay, but at least it wouldn’t morally weigh on you. “Just until you can move out,” you mumble as you open the front door. “and the colleagues are kind…”

When you walk through the door, there was Jason, you try to ignore him. Swimming in your thoughts, yet to notice how impatient he has been, how irritation was brewing in the air.

“You and I are going to have a chat about your behaviour towards Alfie,” Jason says, snapping you out of your thoughts and your eyes snap up to his. You could feel your heart start to pound, why was Todd speaking to you. “and before you refuse, we are going to the park.”

He looks irritated, but his eyes aren’t that glowing green. They are dull, not the vibrant colour that haunts you every time you close your eyes. “...No…” you assert, picking the skin around your fingers, your posture slumped and you look terrified. “I see no need to go anywhere with you, I see no reason why you would need to speak to me about my behaviour.”

He just sighs and shakes his head. “My god, I suggested a public area, we need to talk because you’re a disrespectful piece of shit. Stop being a---”

“No. We don’t, and you are the piece of shit! I am just done taking everyone’s bullshit.” you interrupt, your tone harsher and your stance more confident than before but you still look pathetic to Jason. You still look like the same teen he beat up that day, sure your eyes are harsher and your body is littered with scars he gave you. But you are still the same pathetic child clingy to the memories of your mother. “You have yet to show remorse for your actions after all these years, I will never be alone with you again.”

He scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s not like he could deny that the apology was insincere, and he still feels little to no remorse. He sighs; “It was years ago, grow up.”

“Why don’t you fucking grow up!” you suddenly shout, throwing your bag on the ground. The echo of your shout loud and you could hear doors open. “You beat up a child! I was barely a teen and you still can’t fucking apologise! You still can’t look me in my eyes and admit what you did was wrong! None of you can! I was attacked by my supposed brother in my own room!” You could feel your muscles tense as your pain intensifies, anger is a painful emotion to have. But to hold it in is even more painful. “You destroyed most of what I had left of my mother and her family! Why?! Because you were jealous that Bruce took in his recently orphaned biological child?!”

You step closer to Jason, your eyes are scaring him, you look like you are in pain. But at the same time you look vengeful. You look like you’ve been pushed to the limit. “You don’t understand,” he hisses, stepping closer to you. He won’t be intimidated by a civilian.

“Then fucking let me!” you shout, basically spitting it out. Your nose flaring and your hands shaking. “You all tell me that I don’t understand, yet you all tell me that I have to forgive and forgive as you tear my heart out! And I am done! I am finally getting my life together, finally taking the next steps. And now you suddenly want to talk?! But you still refuse to explain?!”

You laugh, it was hysterical. If Jason didn’t know the laughs of the Joker, intimately, he would compare them in a heartbeat. Without thinking he grabs your arms, trying to force you away from him. Your siblings were watching the fight, he didn’t want to turn around to see Stephanie, Cassandra and Barbara. If he did, he would see their confused faces. He would see how they don’t understand your anger, and he would see Tim finally telling them the full story. A story that Cassandra had deciphered from just your shouting. A story that made it seem like you were in great physical pain.

“None of you have any rights to my time!” You shout, trying to get your arms lose from Jason’s grip. “And you have no right to touch me!” But Jason still didn’t let you go, you want to keep shouting, you want to shout at him until he let’s you go. Until he realises what harm he has done to you. Until your whole family finally realises all they’ve done, why did Tim seek you out? Why couldn’t Alfred just leave you be?! Why couldn’t you just keep your anger hidden until you were gone?! “Stop touching me, I hate you. I wish I died that day! I wish I didn’t have to live like this!”

You weren’t even shouting at him anymore. You were shouting at all of them, you were shouting about everything they’ve put you through. But you were also finally letting out the emotional pain your illness has given you. You’re shouting to the heavens, you are shouting to whoever will listen. You are shouting because the pain has finally become too much to handle.

The straw that breaks the camel's back has finally come.

You’re like a bucket overflowing with water, you are full of emotions that Jason had never seen you express. The only time he has ever seen you shake like this was that day, oh gods, what has he done?

You’re broken in ways he will never understand. You are in pain, and he’s the reason why. You are slipping, you’re breaking down and he doesn’t know what to do. “Step away from them,” he suddenly hears Duke’s voice, a boy that Bruce had recently thought about adopting, a meta that joined their ranks. Wait, is he calling her, them? “before I knock your teeth out.”

Jason steps backs in shock, his hold of you disappearing, but you didn’t even notice. Your hands going up to your shoulders as you start scratching. Oh my dear, you look crazed, you look as if you belong in Arkham Asylum. And Duke, he looks like he knows you. “(Name)” Duke whispers, trying to get you to stop scratching yourself. It almost seems as if you were trying to scratch away your pain, and by the gods, you were attempting to. Your fingertips bleeding, your eyes full of tears. “I am here, it’s Duke, your lab partner, what can I do for you?”

“I need to die,” you whisper, your eyes snap to his. “can you kill me?”

“You know I can’t,” he whispers, brushing some of your hair out of your face. Carefully making sure that his fingers don’t get tangled in your hair, if his fingers were to do that you would panic even more. Your mind would set you back even more, at least now you seem partly lucid. “but I can and will listen.”

You choke on a sob, and tears start streaming down your face as you slowly stop scratching. You barely know him, and here he is in your home (for whatever reason unknown to you), offering his ear to you. “What’s going on?!” Jason whisper-shouts, staring at Dick for guidance. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know how to act, not with the slimy feeling in his chest. Not with this voice in his head whispering that this is all his fault. Dick stares at him and mouths; ‘I have no idea’

But you ignore it all.

“You promise?” You ask Duke, your eyes show how scared you are to be hurt. Your body language defensive. Black spots were slowing clouding the corner of your eyes.

“I promise.”

And with that you close your eyes.

NEXT PART Notice how I was in a dramatic mood here?

taglist: Taglist: @prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @bunniotomia, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @princessbonnie-bell, @seemee3, @pix-stuff, @venomsvl, @amber-content, @stove-top96, @frank-vanderboom, @leeiasure, @1abi, @shadowytravelerlover, @chericia, @lithiumval, @lingxio, @cssammyyarts, @marsmabe, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @miashico, @alwaysholymilkshake, @1cxndy, @kittzu, @rtyuy1346, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @artistwithcreativeburnout, @alishii, @vanessa-boo, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @91-kya, @ryuushou, @jjsmeowthie, @justthere1956, @depressed--therapist, @xzmickeyzx, @cheappremingerfromdelululand, @plsfckmedxddy, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @trashlaternfish360, @leogf, @dirtydiavolo, @lilyalone, @welpthisisboring, @kenman00001, @nxdxsworld, @icefox8155, @ironsaladwitch, @holderoflostmemories, @asillysimp, @wisefuncherryblossom, @eyeless-kun, @marina27826, @muggleloveralways (is there a limit with tagging people or something???)

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raven-dor · 11 months ago

Text

me and my husband

In which gwayne hightower is overprotective of his pregnant wife, and she begins to worry about the outcome of the birth

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x reader

WARNINGS: angst, anxiety, rough pregnancy, mentions of blood, arguing, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

🎶 : me and my husband - mitski

AN: ♥️💗 - I read "chose me" by @entitled-fangirl and had to write something similar for gwayne!! this could also be read as part of the come back to me universe, but you do not have to read any other fic to understand the context!!

She watched from the dark hall, her heart fluttering as he leaned back in his chair, exposing his neck and upper chest. Pregnancy awoke a dangerous animal inside her, one that needed her husband near her at all times.

Instead, he sat in his office.

She could not blame him; it was hard work, taking care of Old Town in place of his uncle’s absence. Seeing as his cousin had died recently, Gwayne would stand to inherit the Hightower title, and he all but jumped at the chance to begin his training.

But as of late, it seemed as if she needed him more than he needed her. Mere thoughts seemed to drown out her happiness, every attempt to block them futile. The larger she grew, the closer she got to the inevitable. She cleared her throat, making herself known to her husband.

“Gwayne?” He looked up, smiling brightly.

“My love! You should be in bed.” He stood up, ushering her over to a cushion. She glared, letting him coddle her for now.

“I am not inept.”

“I know, darling.” He knelt in front of her, kissing the back of her hand gently. “But you also know that I cannot help but worry for you.” He caressed her stomach, whispering. “And how is our little one?”

“You have no need to worry, I assure you. The Maesters say the babe is perfectly healthy; there is no cause for concern.”

“And you?” He kissed her hand once more, his tone softer than before. “How do you fare?”

She was taken aback by that question, avoiding a direct answer entirely. “Do not worry about me.”

“That is my job as your husband.” He walked back to his desk, putting out the flickering candle. “And Maesters are not always correct.”

“That is a rather skeptical view.” She grabbed the chair's armrests and pushed herself up. Gwayne glared.

“Please ask for my aid next time you plan on standing.”

“Shall I ask you to help me relieve myself as well?” She glared back. “I love you; you know that I do. But I am not a frail piece of straw. I will not break from a gust of wind.”

“You are carrying the future heir to the Hightower name, my dear.”

Terms like that make her uneasy. That is all she heard all day. ‘Future heir,’ ‘Hightower name,’ ‘a boy.’ All phrases she had heard over a hundred times. She just wanted a moment of peace where she was not reminded how little she mattered in this situation. A tight smile graced her lips, and all humor once held in her tone vanished. “As I am ceaselessly reminded.”

He grabbed her hand, walking slowly out of the office. “All I ask is that you take care. If not for me, then for the sake of our child.”

“I am careful.” She glared. “You know this. It’s not as if I go looking for things to hurt the babe. Do not treat me like a child to be watched over.”

He rubbed a thumb over the back of her hand. “I do not mean to upset you-”

“Well, you have.” She scoffed. “You have somehow managed to insult my care for your future line and my child in one blow. It is astonishing, truly. I applaud you.”

“You know that was not my intention.” He shut their bedroom door, removing his shirt. Y/N tried to keep herself from blushing at the sight, but when he looked like that, it was hard to do. He knelt in front of her, holding both of her hands in his. “I am sorry.”

She hummed, walking away and sitting in front of her vanity. “Yes, well, I suppose I forgive you.”

He grinned. “I am glad of it.”

The woods were peaceful, a nice retreat from the bustling of Old Town. Her velvet green dress dragged behind her as she strolled along the frequently traveled path. She hummed, closing her eyes and listening to the sound of the trees swaying.

There was a lake nearby that she desperately wanted to swim in and stare up into the sky of blue. Pushing the tall grass out of her way, the clearing stretched out before her, the lake at the center. She grinned, running down the hill with a newfound joy.

“Y/N? Where are you?”

Her smile fell, remembering the whole reason she had even been ‘allowed’ to go on this excursion. He’d only let her go if he came along. She sighed, turning around and walking back up the hill. “Coming, my love.”

The auburn-haired man smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Where did you run off to?”

“The clearing.” She traced shapes on his chest. “I was thinking, perhaps you could join me for a swim. It is the perfect day for it.”

“I woul-”

“My lord.” Their guard’s voice echoed through the forest. Y/N groaned, falling against her husband’s chest. Gwayne kissed the top of her head, smiling sympathetically. “Another time, I swear to you.” She sighed, nodding. A finger hooked under her chin, his eyes serious. “You look far too melancholy, my love.”

“Well, perhaps if-”

“My lord, I’m sorry, but it is most urgent.”

Gwayne sighed, intertwining his hand with hers. “What is it?”

The Maester’s Wing was dim, with just a few candles keeping light. Gwayne had been summoned to settle a squabble between the townfolk, leaving Y/N to visit the old man herself. She tapped her foot against the stone floor, waiting for the Maester to ask her the questions she dreaded.

But those questions never came.

“My lady.”

Y/N smiled, nodding. “Maester Jon, it is wonderful to see you.” She held her stomach. “Tell me, any developments my husband or I should be aware of?”

“Unfortunately, yes, my lady.” He sat down. “It seems, from what we can tell so far, that the birth may result in a breach pregnancy.” Y/N’s blood ran cold, and she felt her breath catch. “A breach pregnancy may result in a choice needing to be made.” He leaned forward, a sympathetic look on his face. “Do you understand what this means, my lady?”

She nodded, standing up quickly. “I do. Thank you, Maester Jon. I shall relay the news to my lord husband.”

She gave one last glance at the dark corner before practically running out of the wing. She burst through the hall doors, dinner in full swing. There sat Gwayne, eyes drooping, visibly exhausted from his duties.

Who was she to worry him anymore?

Y/N sat beside her husband, kissing his cheek. “How was your day, my love?”

“Infinitely better, now that you are here.” He smiled. “How was the visit?”

She took a large sip of her wine. “Well. All is well.” She grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I love you.”

He grinned, squeezing back. “I love you much more, my dear.”

If he chose the babe, she knew she would surely die from heartbreak before she bled out. She laughed, her eyes watering ever so slightly. “I do not think that is possible.”

Since learning of the news, she’d been restless, barely sleeping and often waking before the sun. Its bright rays peeked through the curtains, hitting her skin. The warmth soothed her for a moment, but it was just that, a moment.

The babe kicked harshly, a quiet groan leaving her lips. She stared at the ceiling, thinking that in just a few short weeks, she’d be giving birth in this very bed, staring at the very same ceiling.

It had always been described to her as horrible and painful beyond recognition. And now that she was carrying an heir, which could possibly be breach, she almost wished she could go back to when they first met and stop herself. When she didn’t have to worry about what she did or where she went, she could just be free.

He would be pressured into choosing the child over her; she knew this. Sometimes, when the need for an heir was strong, women had been carelessly cut open, being left for dead. It had been done many times, most notably in her lifetime, by King Viserys. Rhaenyra had told her of his actions: how he’d carelessly cut Aemma open, and her mother bled out on the bed without ever getting to hold her babe.

She looked over at her husband, fast asleep and dead to the world. His hair covered his eyes; his face was shoved into the pillow haphazardly. She giggled; he’d always slept like there was no tomorrow; it was heartwarming, to say the least. She leaned over, pushing the hair out of his face, kissing his forehead gently.

Rolling to her side, she quietly stood, careful not to wake him. Pulling on her deep green robe, she made her way to the dining hall, eager to eat something of actual sustenance.

After learning of the news, she'd picked at her dinner, telling Gwayne it was because the babe made her nauseous.

In a way, it had.

The smell of bacon and eggs flooded her senses, and she rounded the corner, the doors of the hall wide open. Greeting the occasional servant that passed by, she sat down, piling food onto her plate.

“My lord.”

Her attention was drawn to the threshold of the hall, smiling for a moment at the sight of her husband.

He looked angry, stalking toward her, not even acknowledging the man who had greeted him. Odd, he normally slept as long as he could before starting his day. She smiled brightly. “Good morning, my love.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Is it a good morning?”

“Quite.” She tilted her head. “Why? Is something amiss?”

He nodded, crossing his arms. “I awoke, and my wife was gone. Imagine my surprise.”

She felt horrible leaving him, she could admit. And fighting would only give him more cause to choose the babe over her. “I am sorry if I scared you.”

“You should be. And another-” He stopped, shock adorning his features. “You are sorry?”

“I should have woken you. It was my mistake.” She pat the chair next to her. “Please, join me.”

“I’m afraid I cannot. I have to meet with the steward this morning.”

Her heart clenched. “I can join you if you’d like-”

“It is not necessary. I will only bore you.”

She murmured, reaching out to grab his hand. “You have never bored me.”

“You are kind, but I’m sorry, I cannot be distracted.” He grabbed a plate, placing a biscuit and two pieces of bacon haphazardly.

She scoffed, glaring at her lord husband. “I did not realize I was such a distraction."

"Y/N...."

"Perhaps I should stay in my chambers for the remainder of my pregnancy. To keep you from further distraction.”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.”

She stood, her eyes cold. “I know nothing of the sort.” She looked over his shoulder, beckoning over a servant. “Please move my things into the adjoining room. I will be sleeping there-”

Gwayne sat his plate down, looking at the servant. “Do not move her things.”

“My lady?” The young girl looked frightened, scared of the argument she was caught in the middle of.

Y/N sighed, dismissing the girl. “It is alright.” She walked away, yelling back at her husband. “I shall do it myself.”

“Y/N!” Gwayne yelled, dropping his plate and running after her. “Come back here at once.”

She ignored him, walking faster. The stairs proved to be a challenge, holding the railing tight. Gwayne placed a hand on her back. “Let me-”

She flinched, pushing him back. “Don’t.”

He mumbled. “You may hate me all you want after this.”

“After what-” He hooked his arm under her legs, carrying her up the stairs. “Gwayne Hightower! You let me down right now!”

The top of the stairs was a relief; she practically leaped out of his arms. She walked into their joint chambers, filling her trunk with things she would need. Gwayne sighed, watching from the doorway. “Will you please just-”

“I will leave you to your devices, my lord. I hope your meetings prove well spent.” Dragging the trunk through the door, she slammed it in his face.

That had been three days ago. Other than the meals they shared or meetings both were forced to attend, she had steered clear of her husband. For the better part of the day, he would be in a meeting with the patrons of Old Town, or so she’d heard. Y/N took that as an opportunity, rushing out of the castle’s gates. Squealing, she cut through the tall grass once more, racing down the hill towards the lake. She threw her dress off, her petticoat barely revealing her modesty. Not that anyone would see, this part of the wood was only known by the family.

The water did wonders for her nerves, cooling her skin. Her hair stretched out past her waist, flowing like the tall grass that surrounded this oasis. She floated for what seemed like hours; the babe had not stirred once. She hummed, caressing her bump gently. “It is quite peaceful here, is it not?”

A kick.

Y/N grinned, her eyes tearing up. “Please, try your best to make this an easy birth. It would break my heart not to meet you. If that is the case, don’t worry. Your father’s a good man; he’ll raise you well.”

No kick.

She laughed. “Do not ignore your mother. It’s quite disrespectful.”

A kick.

“I miss him too, my love.”

A voice broke through the silence. “Miss who exactly?”

Y/N jumped, standing in the water. “My lord, I did not expect you-”

“I was in a meeting when a guard informed me you were running out of the castle gates.” His face looked conflicted, but she didn’t want to address the fact that he most likely heard that whole ‘conversation,’ so she remained silent. “Is there something you wish to tell me?”

So he had heard.

She smiled, trying to act as if nothing was wrong. “I do not know what you are referring to, my lord.”

“Stop.” Gwayne sighed. “You haven’t called me that since before we were engaged, and I do not wish for you to start again.” He stepped forward, extending his hand. “Please come out of the lake.”

She walked past his hand to her dress, every attempt to retrieve it proving futile. “Here.” Gwayne knelt down, picking it up off the stump. “What would you have done if I hadn’t been here?”

“I would have figured it out, thank you very much.” She glared, pulling the frock over her head. “Do you not have another meeting to attend, my lord?”

“I canceled them.” He laughed, stepping forward. “After I heard my wife was running away from our home, I thought it best to tend to the matter myself.”

“How wise of you.” Y/N crossed her arms.

“Shall we go to bed?”

“I am not tired.” She walked up the hill, leaving him behind. “Have a restful night, my lord.”

She slammed her bedroom door shut, leaning against it. She was tired; she hated to admit it. But she wouldn’t have told him that. She walked over to the window, placing the bouquet she picked on the mantle. A reminder of the freedom she once had. A reminder of life before she faced death itself.

A knock rang out. “May I come in?”

She tensed. “If you must.” She faced the window, too scared to face him. If she looked at him, truly looked at him, his eyes bearing into hers, she knew she would begin crying. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I have to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly.”

She nodded, walking away from the window and placing her robe in her wardrobe. “Ask it then.”

“Do you still love me?”

Her heart stopped. “I-”

Gwayne stepped forward, wrapping a singular arm around her waist. He drew her in, his scent engulfing her senses. She fought herself not to fall for his spell, but as he leaned his head down, and his breath hitting her neck, she knew she would not last. “If you do not, speak it plainly because I- I cannot go on like this any longer.”

She turned around in his arms, placing her hands on his chest. “I do not believe I could ever stop loving you. Trust me when I say this.” She smiled. “I’m afraid it’s terminal.”

“Ah.” He let out a sigh of relief. “Then what is it that troubles you so?”

“I do not know what you-”

“I beg you, do not finish that sentence.” He tilted her chin up, worry in his eyes. “What ales you, my love?”

“I am simply nervous.” She could not be in his arms any longer. The more she lingered in his embrace, the more compelled she would feel to tell him. “It is nothing, I swear to you.”

He raised his eyebrows, pulling her hands from his chest and kissing them gently. “Please do not lie to me.”

“That night I visited the Maester, he told me something.” He nodded. “He said with the way the pregnancy is progressing, it is possible that the babe will be born breach.” Her voice grew quieter the longer she spoke.

“That’s not all, is it?”

She pushed out of his hold, walking to the other side of the room. “I’m so sorry, Gwayne. Truly, I am. Please forgive me-” a sob wrecked her body. “But I want to live. Please.”

Gwayne shook his head. Where was this coming from? “Whatever are you talking about?”

“I know I have been acting radical as of late, and I apologize, I just thought-” She hiccuped. “I thought it would make your choice easier.”

“What choice, darling?”

She whispered. “Between me and the babe.”

“Why would I-” It dawned on him. Had she really been dealing with this all by herself? “Oh, my sweet girl. Why did you not tell me?”

“I didn’t want to stress you any further.” She hugged herself. “Please, Gwayne. I swear I will give you another heir if this pregnancy-” She shivered. “Just don’t cut me. I beg you.”

He dropped down in front of her, grabbing her hands in his. “Listen to me well. I could sire a hundred children, but you. You are one of a kind, and I will always choose you.” He kissed the back of her hands once more. “Irreplaceable. You must know this.”

“No one is truly irreplaceable, Gwayne.”

He stood, his eyes dark. “Do not say such things again. Swear it to me.”

“I-”

“Swear it, Y/N.”

“I swear.” She whispered, cheeks red. “I swear to you.”

He nodded, smiling lightly. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For coddling you.” He stepped closer, caressing her bump. “I am scared as well. My own mother had many a difficult pregnancy, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“I am sorry as well.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “I should have come to you with my worries. I did not want to burden you. And I will make sure you have your heir. I promise you that.”

“I do not care if the Hightower name crumbles away into nothingness. As long as you are content, I will be as well.” He leaned down, their foreheads touching. “There would be no point to this without you. I fear I could not do this if you were not by my side.”

“You have been doing perfectly fine as of late.” She frowned. "I truly am sorry.”

“No more of that.” He whispered, staring at her lips. “May we please go to bed?”

She nodded, knowing if she tried to speak, that words would fail her. She lay on the bed beside him, tracing his freckles. “Sleep, my love.” He wrapped an arm around her waist. “I will be here when you wake, I promise.”

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