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[rumriverautos]

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[cannonauto]

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[expertcarcare]

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[autoandfleetmechanic]

Wondering how do you know when your brakes need replacing? Ask the professionals at Auto & Fleet Mechanic if it’s time for a brake repair.

[starcurtain]

2.1 Penacony Spoilers!

I know the scene after Ratio's "betrayal" can be read a lot of ways but I am shocked I haven't seen more people interpret it as Ratio being so worried about Aventurine that he couldn't stay away even though he was supposed to.

We know:

1) Ratio absolutely knew Aventurine's plan from start to finish, both his gamble to create "death" in the dream and with the three cornerstones. (Wish people would stop underselling Ratio in their analyses; "Three chips are enough" is a direct enough clue that, genius as he is, Ratio would never miss.)

2) In his own words, Ratio was acting according to Aventurine's instructions while in Dewlight Pavilion and with Sunday and felt that he did a good job not giving them away.

I think most people are on the same page up to there, but then I've seen a lot of people interpreting this scene after Aventurine leaves Sunday's mansion as Aventurine being genuinely angry at Ratio (possibly after having gaslit himself into thinking Ratio was actually betraying him).

But this doesn't make much sense to me because:

1) Ratio actually has nothing to gain by selling Aventurine out to Sunday. They're on the same side in this mission. Information about a Stelleron on Penacony wouldn't be news anyone with a brain like Ratio's and why would he need someone else's research on Stellerons when he already has ties to the Genius Society through Screwllum and Herta, as well as the Astral Express where the Trailblazer is actively housing a Stelleron?

2) One of Aventurine's most notable lines of dialogue is how it's perfectly fine and expected for "friends" to use each other and backstab. This is his default understanding of partners--why would he suddenly be mad about something he expected from the start?

3) If the betrayal wasn't already planned and was just a possibility based on Aventurine's understanding of Ratio, why would he ever have revealed there were "three chips" (aka three cornerstones) in play? If even the betrayal over Topaz's stone wasn't planned, just assumed, why would Aventurine reveal the existence of the third stone? He would gain nothing from doing so.

Instead, I think it makes a lot more sense to interpret Aventurine's frustration with Ratio in this later scene as annoyance over Ratio taking an "unnecessary" risk:

1) As far as Sunday knows, Ratio had just very seriously betrayed Aventurine, completely selling him out and essentially sending him to his execution.

2) In the scene afterward, Aventurine is out in public in the middle of Penacony where The Family's eyes are always watching, yet Ratio walks right up to him to check on him. Why would someone who just sold you out come up to you immediately afterward to check on your health?!

3) It's only natural that Aventurine would pump the brakes and go "Wow, didn't think you'd show yourself after you just betrayed me, remember?" Because that's the act they are supposed to be keeping up! They're still being monitored; it's not safe to break character!

But Ratio is a genius, right, so why would he break character here? From the standpoint of the ploy itself, revealing to the Family that he and Aventurine were still on the same side would only jeopardize the plan, not help it.

The logical explanation, then, is that Ratio went to Aventurine here because he felt like he had to.

He had to check in and make sure the situation was still under Aventurine's control.

(In fact, the entire exchange through the middle of this scene is Aventurine and Ratio confirming the rest of their plot in a veiled manner: Ratio brings up the plan and mentions what's concealed in the gift money bag, Aventurine confirms the cornerstone is good to go; Ratio asks what his next step will be; Aventurine says he's going to do the insane thing of handing out cash while looking pathetic [aka fishing for Sparkle]. Ratio essentially asks if he's crazy enough to take the final gamble with his own life, which Aventurine confirms, and then Ratio sets them up for the finale by gifting him the doctor's note.)

Ratio was willing to risk ruining their entire plan--something Aventurine does seem to be frustrated about at first--just to ensure Aventurine still felt all right about the situation.

He needed to deliver his note demanding Aventurine stay alive.

He needed to tell Aventurine to come to him if the situation got too painful to bear.

In short, Ratio was worried enough that he could not stay away even though, for the sake of their plot, it would have made significantly more sense for him not to appear. The gain of breaking character was worth more to him than the risk of being caught.

You honestly don't even have to take this in a shipping context. The real point here is that Ratio is an incredibly good person who wasn't okay with Aventurine's self-sacrificial plan and who felt morally compelled to check on a person in pain. He's a healer through and through, and ignoring Aventurine in this condition--ignoring someone who was taking so much risk on themselves--simply wasn't possible for him, no matter the danger it posed to the plan.

But for those who do ship Ratio and Aventurine... I hope more people will come to see this scene as another example of Ratio's genuine concern for his mission partner! He did not have to appear here at all; it would have made much more sense for him to leave Aventurine to his own devices to uphold the illusion of their "betrayal." He showed up in this scene--very likely against Aventurine's expectations--because he was concerned for Aventurine's situation and wanted to ensure Aventurine knew he could fall back on Ratio's support at any time if the plan went awry.

tl;dr: I wish people would stop interpreting this scene as the aftermath of a betrayal. Aventurine wasn't ticked off with Ratio in this scene because he felt like he'd genuinely been backstabbed; he was ticked off because Ratio was literally breaking their pre-established "betrayer" character just to be fussy over Aventurine's safety and well-being. (Okay, and to double check on the plan, but let's be real, the first part was definitely more important. 👌)

[evie-sturns]

dent - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you accidentally dent matt's car after taking it to work, when you give matt the news he doesn't comfort you, quite the opposite actually resulting in an argument. he finds a good way to make it up to you after he realises he overreacted.

contains: angst, arguing, crying, yelling, slight panic attack, smut, fingering, matt the munch, fluff.

----------------------.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.-------------------

I walk out of my office into the cold hair which hits my bare skin harshly, I tug down my mini dress with a sigh as i approach my boyfriend, matt's, car. he let me borrow it for work today due to the fact my cars in the repair shop.

I swing open the door to his car, flopping down into the drivers seat and instantly turning on the heating. I drive forward a couple meters before realising i left my phone in the office

"shit" i mumble, slamming on the brakes and swinging open my door.

It hits the pole which i pulled up next to, "oh my fuck-" i gasp, "no- no" i repeat before jumping out of my car, looking at the door. It has a reasonably large dent in it now.

"no, no no no.." i throw my head into my hands, i decide to grab my phone then deal with this situation.

my heels click against the concrete as i sprint towards the front door of the office,

I swiftly run into the elevator and press level 6, my finger shaking. "what do I even say to matt!" I mumble to myself.

the elevator door opens with a ding and i make my way towards my room, I pull out my keys and unlock the door, walking back in and swiping my phone off of the desk. I run back towards the elevator and pile in with one of my coworkers.

"You 'goin lobby?" she asks, I nod with a forced smile as i fix my hair in the mirror. The door to the elevator opens, I speed-walk out and out the building towards matt's car.

I start to instantly feel guilty as i look at the door on the drivers side again, I open the door more carefully this time and jump in, I turn on the car and pull out of the parking spot,

my hands grip the wheel as panic flushes over me, "matt will understand, i'm sure."

-

after parking the car in the driveway I walk up the front porch, I knock twice on the door as I feel my eyes water slightly, I push back my tears with a deep breath.

Matt opens the door with a tired smile, "hey sweetheart! how was work?" he breathes out, I walk inside with a shaky breath, folding my arms over my stomach.

"matt.. i need to tell you something" i say, looking up at him with my bottom lip trembling.

"yeah!? anything- are you okay?" he says with a concerned look on his face.

"i- i um" i take a deep breath before continuing "i accidentally opened the car door into a pole- like really hard and now theres a big dent" i squeeze out, my voice breaking halfway through

"you what?" he raises his voice "let me see it?"

i nod, walking back outside towards the car, matt follows close behind me. he takes one look at the door and instantly turns around, throwing his hands up

"of course you fucking did!" matt raises his voice, walking back inside

"matt i'm sorry-" i start but matt cuts me off "i dont wanna hear it- i dont wanna hear your voice,"

my eyebrows twist "matt what? i'm gonna pay for that you know that" i say, slightly louder, following matt inside

"no- how the fuck are you that blind? how do you slam the car into a pole that big? are you fucking stupid!" matt yells, looking at me directly in the eyes.

my lips part in shock, "you can't speak to me like that matt! it was an accident" i argue back, matt scoffs.

"you're so fucking clueless."

i feel my eyes water, "why don't you do anything right?" he groans loudly.

i burst into sobs, "don't say that" i whisper, taking in sharp panicked breaths.

"i'll say what i want!? you can tell me what to say and what not to when you grow a fucking conscious!"

and with that i go to walk down the corridor past matt, already embarrassed from crying. he grabs my wrist tugging me back towards him. i gasp with an ugly sob

"look at me." matt growls, i shake my head looking down at my feet.

"look at me!" he raises his voice, "fine!" i yell, looking up at him.

"if my car. isn't fixed by tomorrow evening. we're going to have a problem y/n." matt says blankly.

"i know- let me go!" i whine, he releases his grip and i run towards matt and i's bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me.

i hear matt mutter something about me being pathetic through the door

“stop being so mean matt!” i yell in a bratty way, i feel my breathing get shallow, my body gradually heating up

my sobs never slow, in fact they get worse the more that the argument we just hand sinks into me. the whole house is now silent aside from matt and i’s room where i’m struggling to breathe

i sink down onto the floor against the wall as i bury my face in my knees, i take in shaky attempts of breathes as i cry into the fabric of my pants.

I pick up my phone and email matt’s insurance company, informing them on what just happened to his car. My hands shake against the keyboard, as soon as i press send i’m up off the floor and in my closet, tearing off my minidress and changing into one of matt’s shirts.

——

I’ve been laying in bed for about an hour now, just now realising that i haven’t ate since mid day and now it’s 9pm, i’ve finally calmed myself down after what happened earlier

matt won’t be in the kitchen i’m sure, i hoist myself up off of bed and walk into the corridor. I feel myself get nervous, i don’t want to get upset again.

as i reach the end of the corridor i enter the kitchen, matt sitting at the dining table on his phone with a plate of dinner infront of him,

it’s okay.

if i don’t look at him i’ll be fine.

i can see out of the side of vision matt looking up at me, i open the pantry.

matt clears his throat before starting, “I made you dinner aswell.. it- it’s in the fridge and there’s muffins in there too.” matt says softly, his voice is quiet, like if he gets any louder i’ll disappear.

i don’t respond, i don’t have to respond to anything he does after how he treated me earlier.

i open the fridge to see a plate of pasta in the fridge, topped with a stupid green leaf on top which matt ‘only does for special occasions’, i remember him telling me and we laughed about it for hours.

along side there’s a couple of muffins which have a poor attempt of being iced, a dollop of icing ontop of each one with some strategically placed sprinkles.

i take the two plates as i keep my lips pressed into a line, i walk back down the corridor into our room and shut the door behind me with a loud sigh.

i have to admit, it was sweet what he had made, he’s always had a weird love for cooking for me no matter how bad he was at it, i think it was because of the amount of enthusiasm i gave him every time he presented it to me.

i sit down at matt’s desk, my feet up on the chair as i take a small bite. I didn’t really have an appetite but i was hungry, and this was nice.

after devouring the muffins i was feeling better, it was now 9:30pm and I decided that i needed to have my hour on my phone in bed before i sleep. I leave the dishes in a neat pile on the desk.

usually i would take them into the kitchen but i didn’t want to see matt, i knew i would cry this time.

I flop down into matt and i’s bed, it feels empty without him. We’ve slept in the same bed every night of our relationship and it’s the only way i can sleep.

—-

10:23pm

knock knock

i hear soft knocking on the door, i choose to ignore it.

knock knock

again, followed by the door clicking open. i’m practically buried under the duvet, only my hair visible so i keep my eyes infront of me at my phone.

i hear matt’s footsteps get closer to the bed, from the small gap out of the duvet i see his jeans by the bed.

i think he’s trying to figure out if i’m awake or not.

I let out a deep sigh and tug the duvet up higher. Matt takes in a shaking breath as he looks down at me.

“can— may i sit down next to you? i want to talk” matt whispers.

may i? on normal days i would laugh at that, it’s so formal.

if i don’t agree we won’t talk this out, meaning that i won’t get any closure for longer. I nod my head slightly. matt climbs into bed beside me, the weight shifting to his side as he sits uncomfortably

he doesn’t waste time to start talking

“I’m so sorry- i’m so embarrassed about everything i said, i didn’t mean it.” matt’s voice trembles.

“do you want to come out of there- I want to see you.” matt whispers, tapping my shoulder lightly though the blanket.

i pull down the duvet and sit up against the duvet next to matt, i look up at him briefly. he looks distraught

his eyes are puffy and red, his nose red and eyes glossy.

he looks at me and i see guilt wash over him.

“i love you so much— i don’t want to loose what we have over a dent in my car.” matt says calmly,

“i said things that i’m really really not proud of.. at all. i didn’t even know what i was saying.. my mouth was spitting out shit faster than i could process.”

“i’m not even sure what i was saying.” matt sighs

“you- you’re mad at me though” i whisper

“i’m not mad at you princess, i’ve never been mad at you i promise. i just freaked out over something minor” matt says, reaching down and interlocking our fingers as a single tear falls from his eyes, i reach up and wipe it quickly.

“you don’t have to forgive me, i’m not expecting you to. but if you want- i could make it up to you..? or not i don’t know- i could go sleep in the spare bedroom if you need time alone i mean, but i’m so sorry.” he rambles

“make it up to me?” i whisper, “like how?” i ask with a sniff.

“you know…” matt hints “the thing that you like a lot from me?”

i nod, sinking my top teeth into my bottom lip.

“i’m sorry for making you cry sweetheart,” matt says, wiping my face with his cold hands.

“i’m fine- it’s okay.” i give matt a small smile.

he nods understandably before sitting up, he walks over to the edge of the bed beside me and lightly grips my ankles, spinning me round so my legs dangle off the edge of the bed

Matt kneels on the floor between my legs “can i take these off?” he asks softly, referring to the lace panties underneath matt’s shirt that i threw on earlier

i nod quickly, “words please” matt smiles, “yes- yes you can please” i spit out.

“there she is” matt says, hooking his fingers over the waistband and tugging them down to my ankles.

he doesn’t waste time to wrap his arms under my thighs, holding my lower back lightly to keep me up in the sitting position. “this okay?” he breathes, “yes!” i reply instantly, feeling the heat between my legs grow.

matt starts to press small pecks to the insides of my thighs, kissing around where i need him the most.

embarrassingly, i let out a soft whimper from the little amount of touch.

matt loves to eat me out, i’m not sure why but he goes all out like it’s his last meal. he says it’s because it makes me feel so good which i find cute.

“so pretty” matt says from between my thighs, he finally attaches his mouth to my clit,

“oh my god-“ i moan, intertwining my fingers on one hand into his brunette hair and placing my other hand behind me, feeling myself grow weak already.

matt removes one hand from under my thigh, letting it fall onto the bed, he reaches under his chin and slowly dips his middle finger into my hole, curling it up slightly “matt!” i whine, bucking my hips up into his mouth

he adds his other finger aswell, the cold metal of his rings against the warmth of me making my eyes roll back.

i grip his hair tighter as matt repeatedly curls his finger “how- how are you so good at this” i breathe out

matt laughs lightly, the vibrations earning a squeal from me.

“fuck fuck-“ i whimper, feeling myself get close.

matt swirls his tongue around my clit,

and with that my legs clench around his head and i finish

i feel myself release on matt’s fingers, my legs shake around his head as he pulls his mouth off of me, being careful to not overstimulate me.

i collapse down on the matress behind me, attempting to catch my breath as i let go of matt’s hair.

matt smiles stupidly at me, his lips glistening. he picks me up off the bed, holding me by my ass. he pecks kisses down my neck.

“thank you.” i sigh, burying my face into his neck.

“don’t thank me.” matt laughs, carrying me into the living room and flopping down on the couch, i lay on his body.

“matt?” i ask quietly

“yeah pretty?” he reply’s, his fingers tracing mindless shapes on my back.

“you know i love you.” i say into his shirt “i love you more.” matt smiles

“and your rings- please don’t ever take them off.” i laugh.

“whys that?” matt teases,

“they feel so good.” i mutter out, barely audible.

“is that so?” matt grins, “yes- yeah” my cheeks flush

matt chuckles slightly, shifting me up and down on his chest.

“you know the muffins you made that were in the fridge?” i start up a new conversation

“yeah?” matt smiles, “what the fuck was going on with the icing- i mean they were really good but the icing was… special!” i burst out laughing

matt laughs with me before replying

“i actually don’t know- i don’t think bakings for me. i put the icing on and it like melted into the cupcake”

i scoff, “it’s okay baby, they were so cute”

——————

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @pkfferroo @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle

[vitalverstappen]

Cassandra - C. Leclerc

summary: when everyone believes you, what's that like?

pairing: Charles Leclerc x platonic teammate! reader

warnings: Mattia Binotto, swearing, some sexist comments

word count: 3k

a/n: in honor of max winning the WDC, i figured i'd post something. in honor of charles finally losing his shit on the team radio, i figured i'd post this. also it takes place during the 2022 season

masterlist

the tortured drivers department masterlist

2022 was supposed to be your year. You broke onto the F1 scene in 2020 with Haas after working your way up through F3 and F2, championing both levels of racing with ease. You proved yourself time and time again by consistently placing within the points in a less than superior car. 

That’s how you got the attention of Ferrari. They offered you a one year deal, and you couldn’t turn it down. You were okay with being the second driver, because you were racing for the most historic team in F1. 

Things started out great. The car was a major upgrade from the tractor you were driving with Haas, and the team actively listened to your input and took having a woman in the car seriously.

You and Charles also clicked instantly, which led to some amazing content for the social teams. 

“Anything you need, or feel needs changed, let us know. We’re a family here” Mattia said as he gave you the tour of the Ferrari factory.

You couldn’t have drawn up the first two races any better. Both you and Charles were on the podium and it looked like you two were going to give Max and Red Bull a run for their money in the championship races. 

The downward spiral started in Australia. From the moment you hit the track for the first time, something felt off. The car was sluggish, it took all of your strength to accelerate and brake properly. 

“There’s something wrong with the car.” you told the team, your frustration mounting. “It takes forever to accelerate and then when I do, I can’t break”

“Have you tried leg day?” Mattia asked, a smirk forming on his face, causing you to storm away and find your mechanics. 

The Australian Grand Prix ended up being a disaster. You struggled through the laps, barely able to keep up with the field. The car was just too much of a handful. Thirteen laps in, you hand no choice but to retire from the race. The speed was gone, and your confidence was shot. 

“I cannot believe he looked me in the eyes and said ‘try leg day’” You fumed as you barged into Charles’ driver room. The frustration was evident in every word, your anger still fresh from the weekend’s events. 

Charles looked up from his phone, raising an eyebrow at your entrance. “Well hello to you too” he said with a small chuckle. “What’s going on?” 

You let out a deep sigh and recounted the car troubles and the interaction with Mattia. “He actually said ‘try leg day’ to me, like it’s some kind of joke. What happened to ‘if you need anything, let me know’?”

Charles listened intently, a sympathetic look crossing his face. “Hopefully it was just an assembly issue” he said, trying to ease your frustration. ”Imola should go smoothly for the two of us. We both know you’re a hell of a driver.” 

Imola was next, and that was somehow even worse than Australia. Instead of acceleration and braking problems, the new issue was the engine. It had to be replaced between practice 3 and qualifying, only for the new one to fail during the race in Imola. 

“I have the utmost trust in my team.” You said during your press interviews “We’ve tried upgrades, but they’ve fallen flat. Hopefully Miami provides some better results” 

For Miami, the team had reverted your car back to the original set up, the one it had when the season started. The difference was night and day. The car felt responsive, alive in ways it hadn’t in the past few races. As you flew through all three practice sessions and qualifynig, you could feel the weight lift from your shoulders. You had been pushing the limits all weekend, and it had paid off - P2, only behind Charles. Things were looking up. 

The problem now was the strategy. As the number two driver, you knew your strategies were mostly going to be defend defend defend but you didn’t realize how badly Ferrari’s lack of adaptability would come into play 

The race was shaping up to be intense. Charles had led most of it, with Max behind him. You were right behind Max, keeping a steady pace, but always aware of the massive pressure from the drivers behind. Then, when Charles pitted, you thought, for sure, you’d get the green light to battle Max for the lead. After all, you were right there, in prime position.

Instead, the radio crackled to life. 

“Y/n keep defending. Leclerc will be back up there in no time.” Your engineer said

You blinked, incredulous. “I’m sorry what?” You couldn’t believe what you just heard. 

“Defend Max. Charles will be back up there to take over. Hold your position” he repeated as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Are you fucking serious?” you barked back, your grip tightening on your steering wheel. “I can overtake him for the lead and you want me to defend?!” 

Before your engineer could respond, Mattia’s voice boomed over your radio “Defend y/n. Team orders.” 

You could feel your irritation building, but there was no choice. Ferrari had spoken. You stayed behind Max, holding position, and waiting for Charles to catch up. Sure enough, Charles had soon found his way back to you, but by that point, Max was far enough ahead that any shot at victory was all but lost. 

Later, in the media pen, you stood with the press surrounding you, microphones, shoved in your face. They asked you the usual questions, but you were still stewing over what had happened. 

“Yeah, I mean the car felt great” You started, trying to keep your tone even. “We reverted back to the original, pre-upgrades and the car showed it’s worth”

The reporter pressed further. “Now even though the car was great, why do you think you couldn’t pull off the win? You were less than a second behind Max, and chose to defend your position instead of attacking.”

A disappointed sigh escaped your lips. You were tired of repeating the same frustrations. “If it was up to me, I would have attacked. I know we would’ve gotten a different result on the podium today. If we had a different strategy, then we would have gotten many more points.” 

“How do you think this result is going to impact the championships?” another reporter asked 

You paused, considering the question. “It could make or break it. There’s a large jump of points between one, two and three, and one thrown away strategy can make or break a shot at either championship. I’m just hoping they don’t mess up Charles’ strategies like they have mine.” 

As you finished your media duties, you made your way back to the garage, expecting to be alone with your thoughts. But to your surprise, Charles was waiting for you.  

“What are you doing here?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you approached

“I, uh, wanted to congratulate you on P3. You had a good race out there” He said sheepishly, his hands shoved in his pockets.

You shrugged, the weight of the day still on you. “I could have won if my strategy wasn’t total shit.” you muttered, your tone flat.

Charles let out a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get it. P1 and P2 would have been great, but strategy isn’t Ferrari’s strong suit” he admitted, his eyes meeting yours with a shared understanding.

“So I’ve learned.” you replied dryly. “I just hope it isn’t bad enough to fuck up winning either championship” 

He nodded, a look of quiet concern in his eyes. “So do I. I’m terrified my shot at a driver’s championship is gonna slip away” 

Before you knew it, your interview was trending all over social media. Clips of you talking about the strategy missteps were circulating, and the Tifosi and general F1 fans alike were all over it. They didn’t believe you. They thought you were complaining, too bitter about the loss, and some even accused you of undermining the team. The backlash was stiff.

User1: there’s no way they’re going to mess up the golden boy’s strategy. Mattia cares too much about winning to do that

User2: y/n doesn’t know racing. She’s obviously going to get the shit strategy - she’s not charles 

User3: Ferrari needs to get rid of her. She doesn’t belong here #burnthebitch

Before media day in Spain, you got called into Mattia’s office. 

“Thank you for joining me on such quick notice y/n” Mattia said with a smile as you walked in 

You gave him a polite smile as you sat across from his desk “Of course. Why did you call me in?” 

The smile on his face instantly hardened “We need to talk about how you approach the media. You embarrassed myself, along with the rest of the Ferrari staff during Miami.” 

You found yourself fixing your posture and dropping the smile you had previously, prepared to go toe to toe with your principal. “I would say I told the truth on how the race was handled. We could have left Miami with eleven more points, had we gone P1 and P2”

Mattia sighed “That may be true, but we know you couldn’t have battled Max safely. Regardless, that was two weeks ago. We need to focus on Spain now.” 

“Whatever” You mutter “ If we provide sufficient results, I’ll give you praise. If we don’t, I’ll keep mentioning what needs to be done better. Simple as that” 

Spain turned out better for you than it did for Charles. You had finished P4, while Charles was forced to retire. Another blow for Ferrari. 

Both of you managed to score points in Monaco. The car felt good and it seemed like the team was back to how they were at the start of the season. That is until Baku. 

The start of the race seemed like it was going well. The practices and qualifying went well. Charles was on pole and you were not far behind him at P4. But that’s when the good luck ended. Just like the Australian Grand Prix, your brakes were faulty, and this time your clutch wasn’t working. 

“Check the hydraulics - brakes aren’t working again and clutch is out.” You voiced over the radio, concern filling your words 

After a few moments of silence, your engineer’s voice filled your ears. “Seems we have a uh hydraulic problem. You need to retire the car.” 

You muttered a curse as you found a spot to pull your car off. If it wasn’t a strategy issue, it was the car. If it wasn’t the car, it was something else. Something always had to go wrong. 

It was only lap eight and Charles was still driving. You had some hope he could get points for the team and for his championship. 

Throwing on a spare headset in the Ferrari garage, you watched as Charles battled through the streets of Baku. Just as quick as he was driving, the problems with his car also began to show. He had to retire only a handful of laps later with a power problem. 

While Ferrari’s golden boy wouldn’t have a negative thing to say about them during the pressers, you had much less of a filter. 

“You can mark my words that we aren’t winning a championship this year. As much as I want to put faith into our team and our strategies, we’ve shown time and time again we come up short.” 

Instead of your remarks being pushed aside by everyone, you found yourself in the spotlight. All eyes were on you as you walked into the paddock for the British Grand Prix. You acknowledged your team out of respect, and they greeted you back, but you could tell there was tension. 

“Mattia wanted me to tell you that the strategy for today is the same as usual: protect Charles.” Your engineer told you as the two of you sat down for lunch

You furrowed your eyebrows “Why couldn’t Mattia tell me that himself?” 

“He doesn’t think you deserve his time and energy” He said, rolling his eyes 

A scoff left your lips “That’s ridiculous. We’re both adults. He needs to act like it.” 

“You’re telling me” Your engineer muttered 

Before you knew it, it was lights out at Silverstone. The race was a disaster for everyone. While a scary crash had been cleaned up, leading to a restart, another safety car was put out for a stopped car. 

“Y/n box box” Your engineer spoke through your earbuds 

Under the safety car, you were able to pit and get fresh soft tires. When the race resumed, you quickly found yourself behind Charles. 

“Am I defending again?” You asked 

“You are free to overtake, but you must give up the position once Charles gets back up after pitting” 

“You mean Charles didn’t box under the safety car?” 

“Correct.” 

“Fucking idiots” You sighed, but did as you were told. 

Charles easily gave up the front position to you as he headed to the pit lane. You expected him to make a quick comeback in the next few laps, but as the laps ticked by, the gap remained. The radio crackled with instructions from your engineer, and you kept your focus, pushing through. 

And just like that, you crossed the finish line. Your first Grand Prix victory. 

The celebrations were a blur - the podium, the champagne, the flashing cameras. As the trophy was handed to you, you felt a surge of pride, but the weight of the race still hung in the air. Charles had been a force throughout the race, and even though you had won, it felt wrong that he hadn’t been able to capitalize on his pace. 

After the post-race formalities wrapped up, you found yourself in Charles’ room, finally able to breathe. He greeted you with a grin, the kind that only someone who experienced a dramatic race could wear.

“Congratulations! First win!” Charles said, his voice full of enthusiasm 

“You should have fucking won that and we both know it.” You said as you tossed him a Gatorade 

Charles caught the bottle with a small chuckle, cracking it open “You’re fucking telling me.” he said, taking a long swing. “At least Mattia didn’t chastise you on national TV.” 

You leaned against the wall, your arms crossed. “Maybe we’ll both be off speaking terms with him by the end of the season,” you joked, but there was no humor in the situation. “But seriously, what did he say?” 

Charles groaned, clearly not looking forward to recounting the conversation “Basically that I needed to listen to team orders. He was pissed that I was pissed that I didn’t win the thing. Said I needed to trust that the team knows what they’re doing.”

“They know what they’re doing?” You raised an eyebrow “Because the last time I checked, they’ve messed up both of our races this season” 

“Tell me about it” His tone shifted, frustration building, “I need him out.” 

A small grin tugged at the corner of your mouth “Twenty bucks he’s out of his job by the end of the season” 

Charles hesitated for a moment, then extended his hand “Deal” 

The rest of the season trudged along, with highs and lows in the car, the strategy, and the relationship between Mattia and his drivers. There were some days he would be all over their radios encouraging them, while others he would avoid them like the plague. 

And sure enough, once Abu Dhabi came, Charles and Ferrari were so far behind Max and Red Bull that it was impossible to catch up to them in either championship. Mattia announced that he would be stepping down at the end of the season, and you had repaired your rocky relationship with your team, allowing you to renew your contract with Ferrari. 

It was the final time in the media pen this season, and it felt much different. The usual questions about the ups and downs of the season were there, but now they came with a certain respect - respect for the struggles you had endured and for the candidness with which you handled it all. Your honest take on Ferrari’s performance had earned its fair share of criticism, but it had also sparked conversations, both within the paddock and among fans. 

The final question from the reporter hit differently. The interviewer’s tone wasn’t mocking, but rather filled with a certain curiosity. “How does it feel to know that you had called it earlier in the season, that Ferrari weren’t going to win either championship this year?”

The question hung in the air for a moment as you processed it. The emotions of the entire season flashed through your mind: the excitement of the podiums early on, the disappointment after races like Miami and Baku, the frustrations with the strategies, and the battles you fought on and off the track. It had been a rollercoaster, and while it hadn’t turned out the way you had hoped, you were still standing. 

You cracked a smile as you spoke, a mix of pride and exhaustion “Oh, so you guys believe me now?” you said, your voice light but laced with the weight of everything that had happened. “Have a good winter break. I’ll see you in Bahrain” 

It was the moment of closure you needed. The reporter thanked you for your time, before wishing you a good break as well. As you walked away from the media pen with Charles by your side, the season’s tension finally seemed to release, at least for a moment. 

Charles, sensing the mood, nudged you. “That was… honestly, impressive. You know, calling it before anyone else.” 

You let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I guess I had a feeling.” you said, shrugging. “At least I wasn’t wrong.”

Charles smirked, clearly tired but also relieved that the season was over. “Let’s just hope next year’s a little less… chaotic, yeah?”

“Agreed.”

[its-avalon-08]

Could you write something where reader and Lando have been in a relationship and reader has a heart condition and she never told Lando so he didn’t stress about her and to focus on racing, and Lando and her brake up because he stupidly told her he wants to focus on racing this year and after she left he realised his mistake as all the little things reader did for him before a race are all gone and everything just feels wrong and when he tries to contact her he can’t find her until a few weeks later he gets a call from the hospital that reader has fallen unconscious and when he gets there he then learns about her heart condition and that stress is not good for her heart. But happy ending.

heart flutters (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort, heart condition

The morning sun slipped through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Lando’s bedroom. Y/N was lying beside him, her hand resting on his chest, her breathing soft and steady. Lando felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he looked down at her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

He couldn’t quite remember when his mornings had become this perfect, but he knew Y/N had something to do with it.

She shifted, blinking awake, and her sleepy smile met his gaze. “Good morning, love,” she murmured, voice still thick with sleep.

"Morning," he replied, kissing her forehead. "Did you sleep okay?"

“Always do when I’m with you,” she replied, snuggling closer. “Although I could do without you hogging the blanket,” she teased, giving him a playful poke.

Lando laughed, pulling her closer. “Alright, alright, I’ll work on it.”

These mornings together, the lazy Sundays and cozy, laughter-filled moments, were Y/N’s specialty. She seemed to know exactly what he needed, especially on race days. She’d wake up early with him, helping him calm his nerves and making sure he had everything he needed. And every time, he’d find some new way she was taking care of him, even if it was something small—like hiding a little note in his helmet, wishing him luck.

“Hey,” Y/N said, watching his thoughtful expression. “You okay?”

Lando nodded. “Just thinking about how lucky I am,” he admitted, his voice soft.

Y/N blushed, rolling her eyes a little. “You’re getting sappy on me, Norris.”

“Just telling it like it is,” he replied, smiling as he watched her try to hide her smile.

They went about their morning, with Y/N humming along to the soft music playing in the kitchen as she made breakfast. She slid a plate across to Lando, along with a steaming cup of his favorite coffee. He took a sip, sighing in contentment. She’d even managed to get his coffee just right.

"Alright, mister," she said with a smirk, sitting down beside him. "What's the game plan today?"

"Game plan?” he teased, raising an eyebrow. “Thought you were the expert at making my plans.”

“Maybe,” she replied, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “But I like to think I’m just the support. You’re the superstar here.”

Lando rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You’re more than support, Y/N. You’re… you’re my everything, you know that?”

Y/N smiled, but there was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, something he didn’t notice, too wrapped up in the moment. She covered it up with a quick laugh, brushing it off. “And you’re mine. Just… try not to get too cocky on track, alright?”

He laughed, squeezing her hand. “Can’t make any promises.”

Their relationship was filled with moments like these—easy, natural, just them being themselves. Y/N grounded him, kept him steady, especially when the world of racing felt overwhelming. She never burdened him with anything else, always making sure his focus was on the track. And she always brushed off his attempts to give back, saying his happiness was all she needed.

But it was Lando who felt like he needed her more than he’d ever admit.

As they finished breakfast, she reached out, taking his hand. "You'll do amazing, Lando," she said quietly. "You always do."

"I only do so well because of you, you know that?" he replied, squeezing her hand.

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes again, but there was warmth there, too. “Alright, alright, enough with the sweet talk. Go focus on your race and be the best you can be out there. That’s all I ask.”

Lando leaned in, kissing her softly. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Norris,” she replied, grinning as she kissed him back.

As he left for the track, he felt a familiar sense of calm wash over him. Y/N had this way of making everything feel right, grounding him no matter what lay ahead. He knew, deep down, that he’d never be able to thank her enough for everything she did for him.

And for Y/N, watching him walk out the door with that smile, she knew that was exactly how she wanted it to be.

--

It was late, and the rain was tapping against the window of Lando’s apartment as he paced back and forth, hands tangled in his hair. The 2024 season had been brutal, every race pushing him to his limit, the pressure of a potential world championship win weighing on him like a mountain. He could practically taste the victory, but the stress of it all had made him someone he barely recognized.

Y/N was sitting on the couch, arms crossed as she watched him pace. She’d noticed it for weeks now, the way he was shutting her out, snapping at her for even the smallest things, as if she were just another distraction.

Finally, she broke the silence, her voice sharp. “Lando, can you stop pacing for two seconds and talk to me?”

He stopped, sighing heavily as he turned to face her. “What do you want me to say, Y/N?” he muttered. “That I’m exhausted? That I can’t focus with all of this going on?”

“All of this?” she echoed, hurt flashing across her face. “What’s ‘all of this,’ exactly? Because I thought we were a team, Lando. I thought I was helping you!”

“Helping me?” he scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, I have to focus. Every race, every lap, every second counts right now. I can’t… I don’t have time to be dealing with you—”

“Dealing with me?” Her voice was sharp, a bitter laugh escaping her. “Lando, I’ve done nothing but support you. Every single time you’re struggling, I’m here. And now you’re telling me I’m… I’m a distraction?”

He clenched his fists, too frustrated to back down. “That’s exactly what I’m saying! Every time I’m around you, I feel like I’m being pulled in a million directions. I need to focus on racing, Y/N. I need this championship.”

“And what about us, Lando?” she demanded, standing up, her own anger now matching his. “Do I mean anything to you anymore, or am I just some inconvenience? Because that’s exactly how you’re making me feel.”

He looked away, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “Maybe it’s just not working anymore.”

Her eyes widened, the pain in them unmistakable. She took a shaky breath, her voice barely a whisper. “So that’s it? Just like that? You’re giving up on us?”

“Maybe I am,” he snapped, though even as he said it, something twisted painfully in his chest. “Maybe I need to focus on my career. I can’t have anyone holding me back right now.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “Holding you back? I’m holding you back, Lando? After everything I’ve done? The sacrifices I’ve made, the nights I stayed up worrying for you, the races I watched, praying you’d come home safe… that’s ‘holding you back’?”

“You just don’t understand,” he muttered, his voice softer now but still laced with frustration. “You don’t get the pressure I’m under, Y/N. I have a chance to win this championship, and I can’t be thinking about anything else.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” she replied, her tone cold. “You’ve let this championship turn you into someone I barely recognize. The Lando I knew would have never pushed me away like this.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” he said, the words hitting her like a slap.

She swallowed hard, the hurt on her face plain to see. But she wasn’t about to let him get away with this. “You’re right,” she replied, her voice trembling with anger. “Maybe I don’t know you anymore. Because the man I fell in love with would have never treated me like this. He wouldn’t have thrown away everything we have because he’s too blinded by his own ambition.”

“Fine,” he spat, his anger still raging. “Maybe you should just leave, then.”

Silence fell between them, the weight of his words settling like a stone in the room. Y/N stared at him, her eyes filling with tears, but she refused to let them fall.

“Don’t worry, Lando,” she said, her voice breaking slightly as she grabbed her coat from the back of the chair. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your precious championship.”

She turned toward the door, but stopped just before leaving, looking back at him one last time. “I hope it’s worth it, Lando. I really do.”

And with that, she was gone, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing in the silence of the apartment.

Lando stood there, the anger that had been burning inside him now replaced by a hollow ache. He’d gotten what he’d wanted—he was free to focus on his racing. But as he looked around the empty room, he realized just how empty his life felt without her.

--

Lando sat alone in his dimly lit apartment, the silence pressing in on him like a weight he couldn’t shake off. It had been two weeks since Y/N had walked out. At first, he told himself he’d done the right thing, that he needed to focus on racing, that he couldn’t afford any distractions. But now, all he could feel was the aching void she’d left behind.

Race weekend had come, and the pre-race routines—the moments that had once been so seamless, so comforting—now felt cold and empty. His helmet was sitting on the counter, untouched. There were no little notes tucked into his bag, no reminders to stay safe, no lucky charm slipped into his hand just before he left for the track. Y/N had always known what to do, how to make him feel like he could conquer the world. Now, everything just felt wrong.

He leaned against the counter, clutching the edge, his heart pounding as he stared down at his helmet. The knot in his chest tightened with each passing second, a harsh reminder of how badly he’d messed up.

“Lando?” Max entered the room, noticing his tense expression. “You alright, mate? You don’t look yourself.”

Lando managed a hollow smile, waving him off. “I’m fine.”

But Max wasn’t convinced. He took a seat across from him, eyeing him carefully. “You’ve been off these past few weeks. Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

“Yeah, just… racing stress, you know?” Lando muttered, though he knew it was a lie. It wasn’t racing stress—it was Y/N. She’d been his anchor, the one person who made him feel like he was more than just a driver. Without her, he felt like he was falling apart.

Max raised an eyebrow, skeptical but respectful enough not to push further. “Alright, well… if you need anything, let me know. You know I’m here for you.”

“Thanks,” Lando replied, trying to keep his voice steady. But as Max left, the emptiness clawed at him even more fiercely. He glanced back down at his helmet, the silence in the room growing louder, deafening.

He couldn’t hold it in any longer. He slumped down onto the floor, burying his face in his hands as memories flooded him. He remembered the way Y/N would look at him with those warm eyes, her voice filled with gentle reassurance.

The more Lando went through his days, the more he noticed just how much Y/N had been woven into every corner of his life. Each time he stumbled over a small moment they used to share, it was like a painful reminder of how deeply he had messed up.

Race Day Routine

When he sat down for breakfast the morning of his next race, he instinctively reached for the small bag she’d usually leave out for him—one filled with his favorite snacks, electrolyte packets, and a note in her neat handwriting that usually said, “For that extra boost, love. You’ve got this.” Every race day morning, she’d make sure his essentials were perfectly packed, knowing how easily he’d forget them in the rush.

But the counter was empty, and so were his hands. There was no note, no bag, no encouraging message. He’d scoffed at how overprotective she’d been, thinking he could handle it himself. Now, as he fumbled to prepare for his race on his own, the empty counter felt like a gaping hole in his chest.

Before the Race

In the paddock, he felt it again, the silence louder than ever. Y/N would always make sure to slip away with him for just a moment before he stepped into the garage, giving him a quiet pep talk when he needed it most. Her words, so full of calm and warmth, used to steady him, keeping the pressure from crushing him. She’d take his face in her hands, look him straight in the eyes, and remind him, “It’s just you and the track. Nothing else matters. Drive like only you can.”

He’d rolled his eyes at her sometimes, told her he didn’t need the cheesy encouragement—but she’d insisted anyway, saying, “Well, too bad, because you’re getting it.” Her words were like armor, a shield she’d wrapped around him before every race.

Now, standing alone by his car, he could feel the pressure creeping in, gnawing at him, and there was nothing to keep it at bay. He glanced around, almost expecting to see her in the crowd, but of course, she wasn’t there.

Late Nights in the Simulator

Back at the team facility, he spent more time than ever practicing, pushing himself harder, trying to keep his mind from drifting back to her. But even here, she’d left her mark. On the long nights, Y/N used to bring him coffee, perfectly made just the way he liked it, and sit beside him, giving him quiet company. She wouldn’t say much, just enough to keep his spirits up, occasionally throwing him an encouraging smile as he took lap after lap in the simulator.

And when he’d get frustrated, when he’d curse and slam his fists on the table, she’d place a calming hand on his shoulder, reminding him, “You’re Lando Norris, you can do this. Don’t let the tough laps get to you. Breathe.”

Now, he sat there, tense and alone, his coffee lukewarm and forgotten. No hand to steady him, no quiet reassurance. The simulator felt cold, and so did he.

At Home, Late at Night

Even the nights felt wrong. Y/N had always insisted on turning on the small night light for him, a tiny habit she’d developed when she realized that he hated stumbling around in the dark after a race, too exhausted to find his way. He’d teased her about it, saying he didn’t need it, but she’d laugh, saying, “Well, one of us does.” She’d make sure it was on for him every night she stayed over, like clockwork.

Tonight, he sat in the pitch-black room, the silence pressing in, the absence of the warm glow almost suffocating. He clenched his fists, swallowing against the ache that was rising in his throat. He missed her laugh, her teasing, the tiny acts of love she’d filled his life with.

Flashback

“You’re going to be amazing today, Lando,” she’d whisper, holding his hand just before he stepped onto the track. “Just remember, it’s not about winning or losing to me. I love you just the same, no matter what.”

And he’d feel his nerves melt away. She had a way of making him feel like he could face anything.

Now, without her, the fear crept back in, gnawing at him from the inside.

He pressed his palms into his eyes, a shaky breath escaping him. “God… what have I done?”

Every little thing she used to do, every act of kindness, every word of encouragement—he’d taken it all for granted. He thought he could focus better without her, that his life would be easier. But instead, all he felt was the emptiness of her absence, like a cold shadow in every corner.

His phone buzzed on the counter, and his heart jumped, a surge of desperate hope flooding him as he reached for it. But it was just a message from his manager.

Frustration tore through him, and he tossed his phone down, clenching his fists. He could still hear her voice in his head, her words from their last fight haunting him.

Flashback to Their Argument

“Don’t worry, Lando,” she’d said bitterly, her voice cracking. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your precious championship.”

He remembered her eyes, red and tear-filled, as she looked at him one last time, filled with a pain he’d caused. He remembered thinking he was doing the right thing, choosing his career, telling himself he couldn’t afford to be vulnerable.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered to himself, feeling a tear slip down his cheek.

Everything felt different without her. The things he used to love—the rush of the track, the thrill of competition—they all felt meaningless now. He was pushing himself harder than ever, but it wasn’t out of passion. It was to numb the ache she’d left behind, to keep himself from falling apart.

But no matter how fast he drove, how hard he pushed, he couldn’t outrun the realization.

Race Day Morning

He stood in front of the mirror, suit half-zipped, his hands gripping the sink as he stared at his own reflection. His face looked drawn, the shadows under his eyes deep. The loneliness, the guilt, the regret—it was all written there, plain as day.

“You look terrible,” he muttered to himself, voice hollow.

He remembered the way she’d stand beside him, fixing his collar, laughing as she reminded him to keep his head cool. And now, all he had was his own reflection staring back at him, mocking him with his own emptiness.

Finally, the weight became too much, and he grabbed his phone, his fingers shaking as he typed her number. He didn’t know what he was going to say, didn’t know if she’d even answer. But he couldn’t keep going like this. He needed to apologize, to tell her how wrong he’d been, how much he missed her.

The phone rang, each ring feeling like an eternity. Just as he was about to give up, her voicemail clicked on.

“Hey, it’s Y/N… leave a message.”

He swallowed hard, the sound of her voice hitting him like a punch to the gut. Taking a shaky breath, he spoke, his voice breaking.

“Y/N… it’s me. I… I don’t know if you’ll ever listen to this, but I just… I’m so sorry.” His voice trembled, each word spilling out like a confession. “I was wrong, okay? I thought I needed to focus, but without you… everything’s falling apart. I miss you. I miss… us. Please… please just… call me back.”

He hung up, feeling the weight of his own words settle over him. But there was nothing else he could do now, except hope—hope that somehow, she might still care, might still give him a chance to fix the mess he’d made.

--

Lando had tried everything. He’d called, texted, even reached out to her friends, hoping someone could tell him where she was. But no one had any information; she’d slipped away completely. Days turned into weeks, and with each one, the realization sank deeper: she might never come back.

One night, Lando sat alone in his apartment, drained and unfocused, his phone resting on the coffee table. His mind was restless, jumping between regret and desperation, reliving their last fight, the look in her eyes as she’d walked out.

Then, the phone rang, startling him out of his thoughts. He grabbed it without thinking, not even checking the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Is this Lando Norris?” a calm, professional voice asked.

“Uh… yeah, this is him,” Lando replied, his heart pounding.

“This is Dr. Kapoor from St. Thomas Hospital. You’re listed as an emergency contact for Y/N Y/L/N.”

Lando’s stomach dropped, his throat suddenly dry. “Yes, yes, that’s me… is she alright? What happened?”

“She was brought in unconscious a few hours ago,” the doctor explained. “We’ve stabilized her, but we’d like you to come in as soon as possible.”

Lando didn’t need to hear anything else. He muttered a frantic “I’m on my way” before grabbing his keys and running out the door.

The drive to the hospital felt endless, each passing second stretching painfully as he sped down the empty streets. His mind raced with possibilities, the worst scenarios creeping in, twisting his insides. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly they were white.

By the time he burst through the hospital doors, he was gasping for breath, his heart pounding as he frantically searched for her room. A nurse pointed him down the hall, and he bolted, not caring how he looked, just needing to see her, to know she was alright.

He found her room and stopped, momentarily frozen by the sight before him. Y/N lay in the hospital bed, pale and fragile, wires and monitors surrounding her. The steady beep of her heart monitor filled the room, grounding him slightly, but the sight of her like this tore at him. Slowly, he stepped forward, his throat tight, struggling to keep his emotions in check.

Just as he was about to speak, the doctor entered.

“Mr. Norris?” Dr. Kapoor’s voice was gentle, sensing his distress.

Lando nodded, barely able to manage a word. “What… what happened to her?”

Dr. Kapoor took a deep breath, her expression softening. “Y/N has a heart condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. It’s a condition that can be exacerbated by stress, which could lead to fainting or, in severe cases, even heart failure.”

Lando’s face fell, his voice barely a whisper. “She… she never told me.”

“She might not have wanted to worry you,” the doctor said. “It’s common for patients with this condition to keep it private, especially if they think it might place a burden on others.”

Lando’s heart twisted, a wave of guilt washing over him as he realized why she’d never mentioned it. She hadn’t wanted him to stress, to worry, especially during the season when he’d been under so much pressure. She’d always put him first, even to the point of hiding something so serious.

He took a shaky breath, blinking back tears. “Can I… can I see her?”

The doctor nodded. “She’s stable now, and she’ll likely wake up soon. But remember, keeping her calm is crucial. She’ll need rest and minimal stress to recover.”

Lando swallowed, nodding quickly, but he couldn’t keep the emotion out of his voice. “I’ll… I’ll take care of her. I swear.”

Dr. Kapoor offered him a small, understanding smile before leaving the room, giving him a moment alone with Y/N.

Lando stepped closer, reaching out to gently take her hand. His thumb traced over her knuckles, and he noticed how cold her hand felt in his.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry. I should have been there. I should have known.”

He sat beside her, the weight of everything hitting him all at once. “I was so… so stupid. I thought I needed to focus on racing, but… God, I was wrong. I was so wrong. You’re… you’re everything, Y/N. None of this means anything without you.”

He stayed like that, holding her hand, his head bowed as he let himself cry for the first time in weeks. All the pride, all the anger—it had melted away, leaving only the raw, aching regret of having pushed away the one person who truly loved him.

After a few minutes, he felt her fingers twitch slightly in his hand. His head shot up, hope flooding his chest as he saw her eyes slowly blink open.

“Y/N?” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

She blinked up at him, confusion flickering across her face before her gaze settled on him, and he saw a flash of pain in her eyes. “Lando…?”

He took a deep breath, his grip on her hand tightening. “I’m here. I’m right here, love.”

She tried to sit up, wincing as the monitor beeped slightly faster. Lando was quick to place a hand on her shoulder, his touch gentle but firm. “Hey, don’t… don’t push yourself. Just… just rest.”

She looked away, her voice barely a whisper. “Why are you here, Lando? I thought… you wanted to focus on racing.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, but he forced himself to face her, to let her see the remorse in his eyes. “I was wrong, Y/N. I was so, so wrong. I thought I needed to do it alone, that I couldn’t let myself get… attached. But all I did was ruin the best thing in my life.”

Her expression softened, and he saw her blinking back tears. “You really hurt me, Lando. I didn’t ask you for much. I just wanted to be there for you, and you… you made me feel like I was a burden.”

“I know,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “And I hate myself for it. You did everything for me, and I didn’t see it until you were gone. I love you, Y/N… I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and he reached up, brushing it away with a tenderness that spoke of all the things he wished he’d done sooner. “I’m here now,” he continued. “And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

She looked at him for a long moment, searching his face, and finally nodded, her hand squeezing his. “You hurt me, Lando. But… I still love you, too.”

Relief flooded his face, and he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’ll be better. I promise.”

For the first time in weeks, Lando felt a spark of hope, knowing he had a chance to rebuild what he’d nearly thrown away. And as he sat beside her, holding her close, he vowed never to let her feel alone again.

--

Lando had been the perfect caretaker ever since Y/N was discharged from the hospital. He took her straight back to their apartment, rearranging everything in his life to ensure she was comfortable and safe. Every morning, he’d bring her breakfast in bed with a ridiculous grin, complete with heart-shaped toast and fresh orange juice. He filled her day with little surprises—flowers by her bedside, a new stack of her favorite books, and even a fuzzy blanket he’d bought just for her.

One night, Y/N woke up in the middle of the night, instinctively reaching for him, only to find his side of the bed empty. Confused, she sat up, rubbing her eyes. She hadn’t heard him get up, and her heart skipped slightly as worry bubbled up, wondering if something was wrong.

Quietly, she slipped out of bed, her bare feet padding softly as she went to look for him. She found him in the living room, seated on the couch with his laptop open and a small notebook by his side. His hair was tousled, and he had a focused, almost determined expression on his face as he typed something into the search bar.

“Understanding Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy” appeared on the screen, along with several videos, articles, and patient forums. Lando had a pen in his hand, and as he clicked on a video, she watched as he jotted down notes on a page, his handwriting a messy scrawl but full of sincerity. The video’s audio was soft, and she could hear the narrator explaining symptoms, risk factors, and the importance of a low-stress environment.

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as she watched him, realizing just how much he was trying to understand, to do anything he could to protect her.

“Alright,” he muttered to himself, tapping the pen on the notebook. “Avoid stress… maybe I can start doing a weekly meditation with her or, like… yoga? Yeah, that might help. And… maybe I should keep her work stuff organized so she doesn’t feel overwhelmed.”

Y/N couldn’t hold back any longer. She quietly stepped forward, and Lando jumped slightly when he felt her curl up on his lap, but he immediately wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice tender as he brushed a hand over her hair. “What are you doing awake?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she murmured, tilting her head to meet his gaze. Her eyes were soft, full of gratitude and love, and Lando’s heart swelled.

He gave her a sheepish smile, glancing at the open notebook. “I… I wanted to make sure I was doing everything right. I know I’ve messed up before, and I want to be the best I can be for you now. So, I figured… I’d do my homework.”

Y/N let out a quiet laugh, blinking back tears. “You’re really… reading up on my condition?”

“Of course I am,” he said, his voice warm but serious. “I need to know how to keep you safe. How to make sure you’re not stressed out or worried, and…” He swallowed, his voice breaking just a bit. “I just want to make everything perfect for you, love.”

She buried her face in his neck, her heart aching in the best way possible. “Lando… you’re already doing more than enough. Just… being here with me, caring for me… it’s more than I could ever ask for.”

“But it doesn’t feel like enough,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “I’m never going to let you feel alone or unimportant again. You’re my world, Y/N. I want to make sure you’re as healthy and happy as you can be.”

She pulled back, looking at him with watery eyes, a small smile on her face. “Lando, I don’t need perfection. I just need you.”

His expression softened as he cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Well, you’re stuck with me,” he said, grinning. “Because I’m not going anywhere. And I’m gonna keep studying this and doing everything I can to make sure you feel safe and loved.”

She laughed through her tears, leaning into his hand. “You already make me feel so loved. I don’t think you even realize it, but you do.”

Lando’s smile turned gentle, and he bent down to press a tender kiss to her forehead. “Good. Because I’m crazy about you, Y/N. I just want to be the person you deserve.”

She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his kiss settle over her, and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re already that person, Lando. You always have been.”

He chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her as he held her close. “Good. Because I’m not stopping until I see that smile on your face every single day.”

As Y/N nestled closer into his lap, her attention shifted to the laptop screen, where a doctor was speaking in a calm, measured tone.

“Managing stress is crucial for patients with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy,” the voice on the video explained. “Avoid situations that may induce high emotional stress. For instance, hostile conversations, arguments, or other confrontational exchanges can increase strain on the heart.”

Lando stilled, his gaze fixed on the screen as those words sank in. She could feel him tense beneath her, a flicker of regret passing over his face.

“That… makes sense,” he whispered, almost to himself. “I’ve been so selfish. I didn’t realize that my own stress… my own words… could actually make things worse for you.”

Y/N put her hand on his cheek, urging him to look at her. “Lando, it’s okay—”

“No,” he interrupted gently, meeting her gaze with a deep, remorseful look. “It’s not okay. I didn’t just make things stressful; I let you feel like you couldn’t even tell me what was going on with you. I was so wrapped up in myself… I can’t believe I was so blind.”

Y/N’s eyes softened as she watched him, the depth of his regret written all over his face. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “We’re here now. That’s what matters. You’re here, and I know how much you care.”

He exhaled slowly, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter. “I’ll never let stress come between us again, love. I promise.”

They sat together like that, wrapped up in each other, as the rest of the world faded away. Lando continued to stroke her hair, murmuring sweet promises of the future he envisioned for them. And for the first time in weeks, Y/N felt a calm settle over her, knowing that Lando was there, exactly where he wanted to be, and that he wasn’t going anywhere.

[wonryllis]

daddy issues, my little girl (m) | park jongseong.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ��� ────𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹,

preview. you had always had daddy issues, for as long as you could remember. so when jay came along with his caring nature, how could you possibly keep your feelings at bay? not to forget, your roses of love have wilted long before you even knew what love meant but jay, he’s here at your doorstep with a watering can. will you be able to refuse?

or where, new neighbor dr jay park is asked to babysit you over the week. ironically the only man you have ever had a crush on. you are so determined to put aside the feelings but jay makes things so much harder. he is way too sweet and caring and you are way too pessimistic and insecure. how is it going to work with you gravitating towards him in inadvertence and jay welcoming your presence with candor radiance? especially with all of your buried issues coming to life more than ever. false hopes and reserved secrets, reluctant truths and feelings that linger deep. he is right there, two doors away to reach. so why is it that love still feels so far?

meet the cast. daddy park jongseong(jay) with his doll fem!reader

genre. neighbour to lovers, age gap (like 7 years), romance, SMUT MDNI!!, comfort angst, fluff, happy ending, doctor(might change that)!jay with his precious girl. jay literally always at his girl's beck and call, he cares about you a lottttt trope. the "i know you can do it, but let me do it for you" trope. kinda ddlg concept idk? he's like your pillar, comfort person and just everything you have ever needed. practically your dream man come to life. subject to additions later on.

word count. 18-19k so far, est around 35k revamp + second installment.

warnings. DARK THEMES: hints of: daddy issues, attachment anxiety, inferiority complex, abandonment issues, depression, childhood emotional neglect, philophobia, insomnia, social anxiety, hints at emotional/psychological abuse, gaslighting, hints at being suicidal, people pleaser syndrome, mommy issues, thantophobia, atelophobia, atychiphobia, pistanthrophobia, avoidant personality disorder, body dysmorphia. more could be added on release and nsfw warnings will be mentioned in full fic.

theme song. daddy issues by the neighborhood and future by red velvet. on the side you can listen to: love letter by bolbbalgan4, adore you by harry styles, pacify her by melanie martinez, cool kids by echosmith, your existence by wonstein, teenage dreams by katy perry ..

RELEASING. TBD, progress ! 57%

"i’m home!” slipping off your converse, you put the pair inside the shoe cabinet near the entrance and close the wooden door in a sigh before trudging in. the lights in the living room are dimmed, something your parents would never do. it catches you a tad bit off guard but nevertheless you try not to think too much. considering the silence surrounding you they most definitely are out for work and as usual forgot to turn off the lights. with cautious steps you walk futher inside, with all intention to sneak in a pack of chips from the kitchen like a thief even though at this point you’ve practically come to the conclusion you’re home alone, but one can never be too careful.

a cat like shriek leaves you when your eyes land on the back of a figure sitting on the couch, your phone almost slipping through the grasp of your fingers as your eyes widen in shock. startled, your heart more or less stopping in a screeching brake for a split second.

the man visibly flinches at the sound of your voice,“who are you?!-” standing up and turning around to face you,“jay?”

“god y/n, you’re gonna make me deaf,” he complains, face contorting into a tender, teasing expression; a small smile gracing his lips as he walks around the couch and leans against the top of the backrest. you watch as he looks at you, so softly that it makes you wonder, has anyone ever in your entire life looked at you like that? a look radiating such gentleness. maybe not, not until now that is.

“you got home early today, i thought you’d be out for two more hours?” his brows raise in a questioning manner as his gaze shifts to go over the time showing on your living room clock.

“uh, well i was working on a project the last few days but i finished it yesterday so,” you speak unsure if you should even be telling him this instead of asking what he’s doing in here.

“oh okay, that’s good,” taking off his overcoat he walks into the kitchen, folding up his dress shirt’s sleeves on the way,“what do you want for lunch then? do you want to eat takeout? or should i cook you something? you must be hungry,” he takes out a bottle of cold water from the fridge and pours in a glass for you, sliding the cup on the countertop towards you as you approach the space in hesitant and confused steps.

his questions dumbfound you, leaving your brain at a loss, still dazed from his presence before you,“what? why are you asking me that? and what are you doing in my house?” you ask, looking completely clueless when jay turns to look at you expecting it to be some kind of a sarcastic remark. but the lost look in your eyes has him surrendering even if it does turn out to be some joke.

“taking care of you,” jay smiles, straightening his posture in an upright position and moving closer to the counter across which you stand,“technically, babysitting,”

“babysitting? me? but,” it baffles you, is this some prank or are you supposed to know something you don’t? your mind’s mechanical gears slow down, friction arising in between them. you don’t remember anything regarding or relating to the term babysitting. there’s no way he’s serious.. right?

“doll, didn’t your parents tell you they’re gonna be out on a business trip for a week? they asked me to look after you while they’re gone,” what.

yes these past few days when you couldn’t catch a hidden, one-sided glimpse of him in the elevator you did feel weird. and you definitely did subconsciously wish to run across him again, even though you were on a mission to avoid him, but this; this is not what you would’ve liked, this is not what you wanted. this is far from what you can handle, what your messed up self can accept.

“no?” the look on your face has jay almost spilling a laugh, the way your features contort to a whiny crying expression. how cute. he thinks.

“that’s okay, now you know,” trying to imitate you, he scrushes up his nose in a slight pout, reaching out to pat your head twice. and there goes your heart. you never thought you’d like head pats this much, you only remember getting them twice from your father but it felt different. it used to annoy you because he would mess up your hair but the way jay caressed your head it felt you had accomplished something, so gentle and careful yet still close to a ruffle.

taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @lheebra @boyfhee @defnotfertilizedtoesw @brownsugarbaybee @skylaly @sparklovespink @luvyouchuu @ming-h0e @cha0thicpisces @butterflywonie @kgneptun @haechansbbg @m3chigo @wonsbaer @woncine @eneiyri @siyen @wonyoungsvirus @heesquared @enhafim22 @velvtcherie @ineedsomezzz @simjyunnie @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @wonkifangirl @sweetwonieee @luvnicho @fakeuwus @sunpov @notevenheretbh1 @kaykay11sworld @saurxcream @shawnyle @monstaxdirtywonk @wannieepisod @woozixo @sophi-ee @rikiwaify-blog @fluerz @iselltulips @belowbun @yunjinsbbg @enhasnuggles @enhaswirlds @enhastolemyheart @jooniesbears-blog

[disneyprincemuke]

she's the man * vr dts special

what does netflix have to say about the first and only woman to make it on the grid in almost 2 decades?

warnings: danica patrick jumpscares

notes: hi im procrastinating my assignment that's due tomorrow so i'm making this for you guys <3 and this is so...? poorly written is what i'm trying to say bye

[will buxton] there is a new team on the grid: andretti's appeal to be the 11th team on the grid was approved early last year. there was a lot of talk about who they could hire in their driver lineup. nobody expected sebastian vettel, who literally just retired from being an f1 driver, to be stepping into the shoes of a race engineer. and to take a chance on a rookie driver...

what did you want me to say? she looks down at the clapperboard that's been handed over to her, lifting it up and down as she tries to ease her nervousness. [producer] introduce yourself first and we'll take it step by step from here. she nods and presses her lips together with a smile. hi. i'm driving for andretti racing for the 2023 season and i am the first female on the grid in almost 20 years.

[sebastian vettel] i... you know, i realised i have nothing to do if i don't race. so i took up the job with one exception – they allow a rookie into the team.

-> bahrain, 2023

she smiles, tapping her card onto the reader. she just waves at the crew ahead of her, cameras held up and lenses pointed directly at her as she walks alongside logan and oscar.

i'm a little nervous, of course – i didn't think i'd get this far. in all honestly, i thought f2 was the furthest i'd get when it came to racing. but i'm lucky. sebastian is taking a big gamble putting me in an f1 car this year.

[danica patrick] a woman in f1? i don't expect that will go well overall. does she even have the aggressiveness to be driving alongside these men who, for them, things like these come naturally.

-> abu dhabi, 2022

"well, would you look at that? the sole woman on the grid has made it to the podium. and that would," there's a pause from crofty, taking a deep breath as a smile spreads his lips, "award her as a runner-up in the drivers' championship slightly ahead of liam lawson. she's driven amazing all year round and it's just a wonder if she will ever make it further than formula 2 if she can produce these results at this level of racing."

[susie wolff] she's amazing behind the wheel. toto and i have watched a couple of her races over the years. it's an experience to have her around every weekend beside big household names like lewis hamilton and max verstappen. if her team can give her a good enough car to produce massive results, or she outperforms everyone's expectations this year, it could be very telling for the sport. and it sure opens a lot of opportunities for new generations of racers to come.

[sebastian vettel] well, she produces the results you'd want in a race car driver. i'd like to change the course of things around here, so there was no question that i'd vouch for her to get in a car with the best of the best. she's been in an f1 car before – with haas a while ago – so there's really not much worry about how she'll do this year. she just needs a good car to start.

[claire williams] nothing wrong with taking a chance on a rookie. but as a new team in the sport, you'd want to prove to everyone that you fought rightfully so for your spot as a new addition to the pitlane.

-> bahrain, 2023

she stands at the back of the garage. the camera zooms into the girl toying with the neckline of her fireproofs. she presses her lips together as sebastian talks to her. "so you're starting p18 tomorrow."

"oh." she looks down at the ground and purses her lips together. "well i told you: the car still felt a little difficult in the braking zones earlier. that was the best i could do without burying myself into a barrier."

"yeah, of course. that just means you'll have to work a little extra tomorrow during the race," sebastian grins. he places his hand on her shoulder to shake her gently. "you did your best today. don't even worry about it. you'll come back stronger tomorrow."

"of course. i didn't get this far just to fumble the bag at my first race."

[danica patrick] qualifying p18 as a rookie and as the sole woman in the sport... it's not a good look for either herself or the people who decided to take a chance on her.

"and that's the checkered flag. p11," sebastian says into her ears.

she sighs as she slows the car down for a cool-down lap. she lets out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head. "i could have pushed a little more to get better results. i'm sorry."

"ah, you finished ahead of a lot of people and you climbed 7 places on the track. it's a good first race."

[will buxton] right now, it seems that not everyone is fond of having a woman on the grid. that's very prominent in the fan side of things. but a lot of people are forgetting that she raced with some of the big names that people know today and was on par with them in the results growing up.

[oscar piastri] well, we go way back. you know, growing up karting together and constantly being in competition with one another, i think really encouraged her to stay in the sport. when we moved up to f3 from formula renault, she kinda got left behind to stay. so when i was poached by prema to race into f2, i suggested that they give her a chance.

well, i was up there fighting with oscar and logan, and occasionally liam, for good results during karting races and eventually in formula renault. the only disadvantage i had compared to them was that i'm a girl. you know, growing up, i would constantly be told that i wouldn't get very far cause this is a boy's sport. that really does discourage you from wanting and thinking that i'd get into official leagues, but i owe it to my best friends for pushing me to dream bigger and retain the passion i had for racing.

[logan sargeant] i mean... she kinda did hand me my ass every single time we were out on the track. if that doesn't tell people that she's a good racer, i'm unsure what will.

[zak brown] it was, truthfully, down to her and oscar for who should come in and drive for mclaren. but we weren't sure if the risks to bring her in would be worth it. so we went with the safer option.

[james vowles] i know a couple different teams – i'm definitely not namedropping – who were eyeing her for her performance last year. prema did a very good job marketing her as their driver as well so there's an extra factor. she's lovely.

-> australia, 2023

"oh, andretti's rookie passes the flag ahead of the alpha tauri and puts her in the points!" there's cheering in the grandstands, and nobody can believe their eyes at the results of the purple race car. "you see it here first – she is the first woman, in decades, to score points to formula 1"

"that's p9! there's your first points in formula 1!"

"oh? oh my fucking god! i did it!"

scoring your first points as a formula 1 driver... it's a very big feat as a rookie. but it means even more when you're in my position.

she runs to where sebastian stands, helmet in her hands. she screams as her team erupts in cheers at the sight of her sprinting towards them and she pumps her fists into the air.

"i did it!" she screams, immediately surrounded by the personnel clad in the bright andretti purple. "i scored my first points!"

she's seen in the middle of their makeshift circle, thrown around by her team as they bask in their first achievement in the sport and of the year. she's seen with tears running down her cheeks briefly before sebastian pulls her in for a very tight hug.

"i told you everything will be fine. you just had to be patient, kid."

[sebastian vettel] scoring points alone is already a step in the right direction. now we just need to focus on being consistent race after race.

-> azerbaijan, 2023

"there's a yellow flag here in lap 40. we're waiting to hear who it was caused by," the camera pans to the car head first into the barriers at a turn, "and it seems to be an andretti."

when you crash front first out of a turn, it's like the rudest jumpscare a person could have. it's nothing to do with the car – it was straight up a driver error.

[sebastian vettel] no driver wants to crash their car during a race and then admit to the whole world that it was their fault. especially when you're in her position, you know? the statement she released and choosing to be honest about it being a driver error – it was her decision to handle it that way. personally... he giggles with a smile. i wouldn't have done that.

[will buxton] she only seems to be getting better and better every single weekend.

-> monaco, 2023

"that's another finish in the points, kid. good race. that's p5 for you."

"thank you. the car felt great this weekend."

-> singapore, 2023

"here we have the andretti rookie in her engineer and mentor's arms, on a very historical evening. she has just scored her first podium this weekend at the singapore grand prix."

she jumps as she's in sebastian's arms, her face buried in his chest. she is seen pulling away slightly from him and he grabs her face, "amazing– you were amazing, kid! congratulations!"

tears, again, roll down her cheeks as she nods at his statement. her chest heaves as she cries. "thank you. oh, my goodness. thank you."

"there's no words. just that you were amazing this weekend."

a hand lands on her back. she turns around and covers her face as she fights the biggest grin. "you beat me in f1, mate!"

the australian accent fills her ears as he congratulates her. oscar takes her into his arms, resting his chin on her shoulder as they lock themselves in a tight embrace. he rubs circles on her back. "congrats on the podium, mate."

[danica patrick] now they're in a weird spot. oscar, on one hand, has been backed by mark webber for years. his best friend is racing under sebastian vettel. everybody knows those two don't get along – is it possible that it could reflect on their friendship as well?

-> silverstone, 2023

"overtake available." her andretti, slowly inches towards the mclaren of oscar's up ahead. "whenever you see fit."

"what's the gap?" oscar huffs, head snapping over to his side mirror briefly.

"0.2."

at the next turn, she takes a big lunge on the inside of the track to go ahead of oscar.

"there's a bit of fighting at the midfield here between a mclaren and an andretti. oscar piastri, however, does not let her go. he is still fighting to hopefully finish ahead of her in today's race."

"keep the pace. try to shake oscar off, he's still close behind you."

"noted."

racing on the track with oscar? nothing i haven't done before.

[oscar piastri] she's always been great at keeping up and being a challenging competitor on the track.

[logan sargeant] she's very fast on and off the track. i rarely beat her in racing... so...

"oscar piastri takes the checkered flag behind the andretti, failing to fight with the incredible pace the new car has shown this weekend."

in parc ferme, the girl takes her helmet off, turning around sharply to the man in papaya orange as he lifts himself out of the car. "good fight, mate."

"good fight," oscar smiles. they share a quick hug before the younger girl briefly runs away from him to approach logan further down the lane.

[danica patrick] we've seen what the sport does to friends. it does not matter how long you've been friends – it will eventually catch up to you and everybody involved.

-> austin, 2023

"the andretti finished in p5 and logan sargeant has just been promoted to p10 following the disqualification of charles leclerc and lewis hamilton. oscar, however, retires from the race following a crash with esteban ocon."

i don't beat oscar often – so whenever the rarity comes up, i take it with open arms.

"ah, screw you mate," oscar laughs, throwing his arms around the younger girl once again. "good finish."

she flips her hair as she pulls away and bats her eyelashes. "what can i say? i'm made for formula 1."

[sebastian vettel] they're sweet kids. i don't think there is any animosity between them. they lived together while they karted weekend after weekend. they're used to it... i think.

we've fought about things like these growing up. oh, for sure. we're both the oldest siblings – so the competition never ends between us.

[oscar piastri] she is very competitive. she's only fair when it comes to racing on the track though. everything else, she finds a way to come out on top.

-> oxford, 2023 (winter break)

"i won."

logan turns to look at her, eyebrows furrowed. "no, you didn't."

now stood up, the girl looked down at logan with a mirrored bewildered expression on her face. "yes, i did."

"no," logan repeats with his eyebrows raised, "you did not."

she clenches her jaw. "yes, i did."

"dude." logan turns to look at oscar, sitting across the table from them. their gazes all land on the card that she puts in the middle. "that's a yellow card that you coloured over with red marker. you lost – just admit it."

"what do you mean? that's a legit card." she lifts it up and reveals to the camera a card that's been poorly coloured red with some scratches that reveal the authenticity of the yellow that logan had just pointed out.

[logan sargeant] she's such a sore loser.

-> abu dhabi, 2023

"that's the andretti of the rookie driver crossing the finish line in p4, and that puts her in 6th place in the driver's championship. we might just be at the start of history being made, folks."

[sebastian vettel] what can i say? i'm never wrong with who i place my bets on.

[danica patrick] she proved a lot of people wrong this year, including me. she is an exciting up and coming driver.

she shrugs with a smug grin on her face. oh, i'm here to stay, babes.

andretti has secured her with a multi-year contract with the team – she will be racing under them until 2028.

the clapperboard clicks loudly, a man sits there with a cheeky grin as he stares into the camera. i'm liam lawson and i'm now an andretti race car driver. see you on the track in 2024.

– bonus

"aw, mate! they totally twisted that whole scene up!" she scoffs, throwing a small pillow at the tv screen. "dalton was the one that coloured that uno card in. not me!"

oscar turns to her. "yet you still used it despite the fact that we agreed to not use it in games anymore."

"the game would not have been fair if we were missing one card!"

logan scoffs. "we let you win, anyway."

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @nikfigueiredo @namgification @happy-nico @darleneslane @littlesatanicassholebitch @localwhoore @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @inejismywife @love4lando

[kithtaehyung]

lollipop (3tan) (m) | myg

title: lollipop (m) | part one: summer bbq pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) | broken (pt. 2) rating/genre: m (18+) ; fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: after the summer cookout ends, you say goodnight to your brother and his best friend. but the latter just had to have a lollipop in his mouth… and had to make you aware of it hours later.  note: this is part two of the three tangerines drabble summer bbq! undisclosed whether these are in the main storyline or not, so it’s a standalone for now. note 2: also..... hope y'all read this in private :))) hahahah  warnings: yoongi is the biggest warning, but reader almost inches him out here🤭, no joke we may need to form a new line for reader, kissing, hella kissing, a mirror makes an appearance.. 🫣, tense situations, tender moments, lollipop gets its own warning i’m so serious, cocky yoongi lolll explicit warnings: under the cut! drop date: july 22nd, 2024, 7:17pm est word count: 7.3k💀💀💀

explicit warnings: food play (just roll with it😂), oral sex (m/f rec), masturbation, the struggle to keep quiet is real, mirrors are involved lord have mercy, spanking, breast play, multiple orgasms, yoongi hands, choking, fingering, face f*cking, titty shotsss, a little bit of manhandling and roughness but we love it🤭🤭, aftercare and cute cute reader afterwards

—

—

It’s not long until you’re snuggled under your covers, every limb in your body relieved to be at rest. From getting ready, cooking for hours, to general host duties—all while trying to avoid sin in human form—you’ve completely exhausted your living battery. 

But for some reason, sleepiness is out of reach. 

Tiredness? For sure. But sleep seems to elude you, and you toss and turn before giving up and turning your television on. 

It’s after you get through two episodes of something random and endless doomscrolling that you get a text. 

From the last person that should be texting you right now.

And your heart slams on every brake it has.

Yoongi [2:37am]: You up?  

Umm.

What.

Why is he asking you that? It’s quite possibly the worst time and type of message to receive right now. 

Don’t overthink it. He probably just needs extra hands to drag your brother back to his room again.

You [2:37am]: mmhmm 

You [2:37am]: you need me for something?

With a sigh, you rest your phone by your side.

The last time that happened was so long ago. Back when you were fighting off sickness and absentmindedly grabbing tangerines to snack on.

You wonder what that man wants this time around.

Yoongi [2:37am]: Haha nah

Yoongi [2:37am]: Just curious

Well that’s interesting.

Is he still in the backyard? Somewhere in the house? You knew he was staying over, but is he in the guest room with Jimin lying down like you are?

Why is that making your soul squeeze? 

You [2:38am]: yeah i am. can’t sleep :\

After hitting send, you feel more awake than ever, staring at your ceiling changing hues from the light of your tv. 

It kinda hurts knowing Yoongi’s the closest he could be tonight. 

On one hand, you still remain feeling safer than ever, having all of them here. But on the other, you’d much rather Yoongi be right next to you, heart beating under the same covers and eyes covering you in moonlight.

He’s so close and yet… 

So damn far. 

Yoongi [2:39am]: Same. 

Your arm slings right over your eyes.

How is one word from him enough to make your legs shift? That is something that needs to be studied, but alas, you would only be the subject if someone paid you for it.

What do you say now? You miss him so much it practically hurts? You want him to be lying next to you even though it’s the riskiest thing in the world?

Maybe start slow.

You [2:40am]: did you have fun today? 

Shit, was that a little too slow? Abnormal? It’s not like you two have as much small talk as other people. Though you wouldn’t mind any type of talking with him at all, casual small talk just isn’t on the list of defaults.

When you check the next text you get, it’s hard to keep your phone from falling onto your face.

Yoongi [2:42am]: I’ll tell you if you open the door :)

Huh.

So much for starting slow what the fuck! 

You [2:43am]: ???

You [2:43am]: front door? 

Yoongi [2:43am]: Yours

There have been many times in which this man has made you speechless. Some just for being so heartstoppingly handsome; others for being the most considerate person you’ve ever met.

But this time?

You can’t even form all the reasons why you can’t form words.

You [2:44am]: ?????

Yoongi [2:44am]: 🤨

Yoongi [2:44am]: Feel like this is pretty easy stuff, doll 

What is happening? What possessed your brother’s legitimate ride or die to stand at your door while still in the same house? When other people are also staying over?

You’re so close. He’s right there. You can see a slight shadow underneath the wooden frame and it’s making your stomach silly.

But you have to be sure.

You [2:45am]: is he asleep? 

Yoongi [2:45am]: Yeah he’s out 

Getting up, you already miss the warmth of your sheets as you tiptoe towards the only thing separating you from the man you’ve yearned for all day long.

Fuck. If this isn’t the worst decision you’re ever gonna make in your life.

But damn it, you already knew you were gonna let him in as soon as he asked.

After checking what you’re wearing before knowing it doesn’t matter, you open your door while fearing what it reveals. 

And Yoongi slowly enters through the night—freshly showered, still studded with jewelry, and decked in clean clothes while dirtying your mind to hell.

Because of the goddamn lollipop in his mouth.

“What’s going on,” you whisper, knowing your brother could wake up at any second. Maybe. Possibly. Everything bad is always possible when you’re paranoid about it—especially since Yoongi is in your room! “What are you doing?”

Your secret wastes no time as he quietly shuts and locks the door, hair shifting down his head in damp waves as he takes out the sucker,

“This.”

Silent, he pulls you in slow for a kiss, melting you down with ease. When he presses you into one of your walls, you know the only thing propping you up is his pelvis molding with your front. 

Already, your senses are on high alert, wondering how long Yoongi plans on staying because as much as you want him here forever, you still want him in one piece. 

But it’s getting hard to concentrate on consequences and scenarios when this man is infiltrating your every thought. His lips feel like summer and his fragrance reminds you of spring, and you immediately know it’s that subtly scented body wash you picked to put in the guest bathroom. 

Strange. You both have now used each others’ soap and showers. That has to mean something intimate, right? How many people can say that about one another and not look into it too much?

Well, he technically hasn’t used the shower in your bathr—

“You looked great today,” Yoongi whispers into your neck. 

His kiss there renders you speechless for what seems like eons. Today. Uh huh. What were you thinking just now? “Thank you,” you finally sigh, relishing in the way he’s holding your side. “So did you.” 

“Thanks.” 

“I mean.. You always do, so. Nothing new there.”

Yoongi quietly huffs a laugh before tugging your hips. But he doesn’t say anything in return, and you wonder if he didn’t have an answer or just didn’t feel the need to. 

So your nerves fill the space again. “Is it weird that I missed you? You were here the whole time.” 

“Mm.” His kisses traverse up your shivering throat, and his raspy answer has your eyes fluttering shut, “I get that.”

Fuck, you can’t deal with him. “Is.. Is that so..”

“People miss me all the time.”

A snort. “Ass.”

Yoongi immediately laughs into your skin. “But they aren’t here now, are they?” When you don’t respond with anything substantial, he squeezes the side of your ass. “Are they.”

“No,” you hitch out. “But you shouldn’t be here, either.”

“Tell me to leave then.”

Shit. You can’t. You both know you can’t. You try so hard to stifle a moan when you feel Yoongi grip an asscheek, his lips finding your ear at the same time he gives a firm smack.

“Do it, doll.”

“I…” Fuck, he’s surrounding you and there’s no way no way out. “I can’t.”

“Good.” Yoongi then slides your hand from his side down to his legs, placing it on his very big, very hard length. “Cus I can’t fucking stay away from you.” 

You grip him through his pants, pleased when he moans deep. “What if he wakes up?”

“He won’t,” your handsome rebel purrs. “Drank for hours.”

“You sure?”

“Course I am.” Yoongi slides a finger along the outline of your breasts. “He tried to keep up and lost.”

“Typical.” 

He keeps doing exactly what you want him to do. It’s quite scary how well he knows your body now, but you’d also like to think you have a good level of knowledge with his.

Especially when you reach up to twist his nipple. 

A groan mixed with dark chuckles has your knees shaking, and you prolong it by doing something else you know—or think you know—he likes,

“I think you’d like it if I kicked you out now.”

The volcano inside Yoongi rumbles. “Is that so?”

“It is,” you huff out in mock triumph, loving how his cock twitches against your hand. “Or am I wrong?”

He flicks his eyes to yours before holding a gaze. A look so telling, and full, and searing. When his mouth flicks upward, he admits,

“I’d love it.”

Laughing as softly as you can, you stop to simply hug him. Leaning forward until your head rests, feeling the most at home and happy hearing his own amusement vibrating through his clothes. 

And just like that, you’re conflicted. 

What the hell are you doing? Even though passed out and sloshed, your brother could still wake up. It’s not like he’s totally gone. And if he catches his best friend in your room? There’s no telling what damage could be dealt.

Actually, the damage could be told in gruesome detail.

But the way Yoongi’s filling the distance from today, you really don’t want to stop. In fact, you don’t even want to pretend to shoo him off.

So this is your first step onto a precarious, unpredictable tightrope. A step you are very okay taking. 

“Babe?”

Shit, you got lost again. When you find your way back, Yoongi’s concern materializes at once,

“If you really aren’t down—”

“Fuck it.” 

Your kiss digs into his face so hard you strike gold, rewarded with a growl so potent it disrupts your core. Lightning zaps through your veins at the hands squeezing your hips, and you buck with a desperation that’s been stockpiling all day long.

Sliding along the wall, you notice that Yoongi tastes like alcohol and sugar, and you wanna lick every crevice you can reach, drunk off his cockiness and audacity alone. 

It’s no use fighting this. He’s really in your room, making out with you like a demon while the house is filled with your brother’s sleeping friends.

Fuck, you two could really get caught here.

The swirl in your belly keeps you on your toes, transforming your movements into sharp, hasty tugs on his clothes, hemlines, hair. You’re practically acting like you’ve never had him before and want to make up for all those missed opportunities.

Not like it’s any different every time.

But you’re quelled by a calm hand on your wrist. “As much as I like you like this,” Yoongi whispers across your cheek, “You can’t be too loud, baby girl.”

Your silent question must’ve escaped past your teeth. Because you hear a deep chuckle before shivers run down your spine,

“If you aren’t quiet enough I’m gonna fix that.”

Oh. Fuck.

“I didn’t even know I was talking,” you admit, body creasing in embarrassment and a bit of nervous laughs. Your grin cannot be contained by the fingers you slide up to cover it. “Oh, my god.” 

“What?” Yoongi’s devilish look is even more potent in the flashing lights of your television. “You serious?”

When you scrunch in deeper admittance, he flashes teeth with a wider smile than yours. It’s a prelude to the way he launches your heartbeat, his scent mesmerizing and his fingers lethal on the back of your neck. 

“Adorable.”

You groan into his swooping kiss, the rush of a thousand rivers carrying you to bliss. Breaths intertwined, the pair of you can’t seem to part until Yoongi accidentally shoulders something at his side.

Your mirror? When did you both travel so far that you got here? 

He lets off with a pop to steady the wavering furniture piece, pausing to make sure it’s stable before looking at the movie playing nearby.

And you watch in curiosity as he backs further into your room, eyeing himself in the mirror while slotting the sucker back into his mouth.

God. How did you forget he was still holding that?

And why can’t you move even as he turns around, even as he glances at the tv, even as he sits on the edge of your bed?

Move. Walk. Do something!

In the end, you can’t.

Because Yoongi’s stare alone gives you first time jitters, like you’ve never even conversed or much less slept with him before. 

How the fuck are you gonna get through the night? 

Swallowing and shooting one more look at your door, you pad your way to him, knowing he sees your nipples poking through your shirt and assuming there’s not much else you’re wearing. 

And he’s right. 

As you stop at Yoongi’s knees, you watch as he gives the lollipop another slow suck, groaning at the red smeared across his tainted lips.

That’s it. It’s decided. There’s no way you’re making it out alive.

“Get up here.”

Obliging but unhurried, you mount his lap, your heart skipping at the way he enjoys your shirt riding up your thighs.

So that damn sucker is gonna stay in his mouth? 

Min Yoongi is your enemy tonight.

Your nemesis, in fact. Even if he slides both free hands up your ass like that fuck he squeezes so expertly. Fuck. 

It’s keeping everything in you to hide your moan, your head falling forward as he slightly lifts you to drop you onto his comfy sweats.

When he chuckles in your ear, your muscles lock. And when he pops the lolly out of his mouth, you crumble at his mercy. “You were lucky to be off-limits today, doll.” 

“What…” You tense at another grip to your ass. “What do you mean.”

As you eye the silver around his neck, Yoongi’s smirk pours weight on your legs. “If you weren’t? There’s no telling what I would’ve done.”

You don’t think you’ve ever gulped so deeply. What toe-curling secrets is he hiding? Today could have gone a much, much different route depending on what he’d spill. “Tell… Tell me anyway.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

The man below you huffs quick, and you watch the corner of his mouth lift at a dangerous angle. “Would’ve kept you in that bathroom,” he divulges, voice dragging across the rattled surface of your brain. “Bent you over the sink.”  

Your breath hitches when he gets close, lips caressing your ear but words striking through your chest, “Just so you could watch me fuck you in that sundress.” 

“Fuck.”

“Uh uh,” Yoongi coos, chuckle so, so deep. “Quiet, baby girl.”

“I just…” It’s already hard to think around this demon of a person. But it’s even more difficult when he’s got your ear in his teeth. “Wait.” 

As he pulls away, the light of your television highlights his features. And you find that this specific, comforting look of attentiveness is what attracts you the most. 

Now that you can think clearly, you remember exactly what you were gonna do. It’s simple but significant nonetheless. 

Because your dress from today is in the laundry already. But that doesn’t mean you don’t have another one. Another very particular one he may remember, in fact. 

“Go over there,” you whisper, smile wide as you dismount. “Turn around.” 

When he wordlessly asks what you’re up to, a single finger presses against your lips before you assure, “Just trust me.” 

The way his brows scrunch makes your cheeks hurt as you watch him get up and swivel, endeared by the casual lean on your wall and the lollipop stuck in his cheek. Just as his head falls in waiting, you slip into your closet, darkness getting even darker as you enter.

Due to an afterthought, you pop your head out. “No peeking in the mirror.”

“Uh huh.”

Satisfied, you go back to your lightless search. 

You know exactly what you’re going for. It’s too easy for you to locate your chosen piece of clothing before stripping and changing as orderly as you can. 

Okay. This is okay because you’re alone, right? No one else is here. Technically. Okay.

As you make your way out, a million nerves pop and fizzle under moonlight. The air surrounding your bare shoulders proves charged. Electric enough to send shivers down to your pedicured toes.

Composing yourself before you break, you softly catch his attention as you eye the sucker poised in his fingers,

“Ready.”

The moon waits.

Your breath follows.

And when Yoongi turns, you know you’ll never forget this moment. It feels exactly like the time in that restaurant long ago, but more potent. Shimmering. 

Because you’re wearing the same sundress he witnessed you in on the night of Dom’s party. 

And you’ve never been so delighted to see the stars in his eyes go dark.

You expect him to call you over. Whether with words or not, you’re gonna do whatever he wants—because it’s what you want… too…

Yoongi’s aura billows as he closes the distance himself. No words. No gestures. Just step by breath-taking step, air around him so charged and commanding that your knees threaten to buckle. 

For reasons you won’t admit, your mouth can’t even create sounds. All you want to ask is if he likes the dress, or if he even cares you aren’t as dressed up as before. 

Of course he wouldn’t give a single shit. But you can’t stop yourself from these thoughts just yet. 

Swallowing, you stare as he rolls the sucker in his mouth, eyes in no other direction but yours. “You, umm. Does this one work instead? The other one is in the—”

Quick isn’t fast enough to describe what’s happening, your shoulders pressing into the nearest wall as your lips get consumed by lust and possession. Everything in your body tingles, and for a split second you wonder how Yoongi managed to swing you around so swift with barely a sound. 

Stars fly from your eyes before they slip shut, pouring want onto his veins as he circles strong arms across your waist. Sparks erupt the scant distance between your hips and his, and you are once again reminded why you feel so high-strung. 

There are so many people staying over. Not just Yoongi and Jimin. From what you can recall, at least ten people are passed out around the house, any of which could wake up for a bathroom break or something at any second. 

And yet. You will not tell this man to leave. Truthfully, this is exhilarating and all you’re doing is ki—

“Get down there.”

Oh, fuck. 

This is the new point of no return. 

If you do this, not only will Yoongi be a goner, but so will you. Both of you would never, ever come back from this. 

But that fucking lollipop…

Screw everything to hell.

Your smile grows with his, lip bitten in the throes of your newfound excitement. You already feel how rock solid he is through his pants, and you make it a point to stroke him on the way to the ground. 

There’s so little room that your ass skims the wall, your chest the second part to slide along his covered length and causing him to groan out a curse. 

Is there a shift here? Did you change the whole dynamic with one move? Maybe you’re the one with the power now. 

“Look at me.”

Ah. Maybe not.

Obedient, you stare upward, catching the fire in Yoongi’s eyes as he gives the sucker one more pass in his mouth. 

God, he makes it look so enticing. It’s just a piece of candy but you’ve never been this desperate to have one, too. Or be the one treated with his tongue like that goddamn does he have to make it seem so erotic?

With a pop, Yoongi releases the stick, lips shiny and tainted in the television lights. When he lowers it, you realize it’s descending—farther and farther—until it stops in front of your face. 

And shivers overtake you.

“Suck.” 

Well. You’ve never done something like this before. In all the relationships you’ve been in, you have never experienced anything like this. Much less in your own house. 

Which makes your eyes flare and the monster in your belly rumble, fire hissing from its nose and prying your mouth open to do exactly what you were told. 

“That’s my girl.”

Sugar coats your tongue immediately. Glowing, the heat in your core stokes embers, warning with each loll, each cave of your cheeks. You treat the candy so tenderly Yoongi will deny jealousy, and your lips pucker and puff with a sheen. 

Are you glistening as much as his eyes? Are you causing him as much grief as he has put you through?

You damn well hope so. Yoongi isn’t the only one that’s gonna unleash his needs from the whole day. 

So you keep sucking with closed eyes, swirling your tongue around the lolly and licking it just how you would his tip. It tastes like sweet rebellion, but also late nights with your friends. And with a fleeting thought, you know said friends would grill you if they ever found out this was happening.

Maybe Tae would just laugh his ass off. 

Fuck, this is so unbelievably risky. Your door is locked, sure. But the guest room is still very much missing an occupant and one look in there and at Yoongi’s car in the street would cause an eruption.

Through the haze of your thoughts, you hear shuffling and a low droning grunt. 

With one glance, you know Yoongi is crumbling. The shadowed promises under his bangs make you preen, and you remain on the precipice of anxiousness and glee.

“Keep that tongue out for me.”

Clearly, he doesn’t give a shit about risk.

So gladly, you oblige, flinching when the lollipop is replaced by something you’re much more familiar with, and your eyes bat on instinct as you know exactly what to do with this one.

When did he shove his pants down? Were you that lost in your sticky treat that you didn’t even notice? 

Doesn’t matter. You feel his beautiful weight on your stained tongue and it’s second nature to pleasure. When you grab hold of his base, you give one more suck before popping him out of your mouth to lick down.

For someone that’s been shushing you, Yoongi’s groan is not quiet, and you pause just in time to see him grit his teeth with a nose scrunched to hell.

And his attention is sideways. What is he…

Oh. Fuck.

You can see yourself in your mirror on the other wall. 

Is that… you? The one looking back with a visage so arousing your breath stops? If this is the person that Yoongi brings out you actually feel your confidence inflate like a parade balloon.

“So fucking hot.”

When you laugh in shyness, his eyes slide shut in agony as he rakes through his hair. Crumbling inside, you offer a compliment of your own, 

“You’re so unfair when you do that.” 

Yoongi has the audacity to grin wide as he grips his long strands. “This?” 

“Ugh. Whatever.” You wanna smack that smirk right off his face.

So you keep going, loving the way his walls and defenses are back to shattering at your knees. From your inappropriate level of experience with his cock, you go for what you know. Licking his underside, swirling around the tip, sucking just the first bit, gathering spit all over before taking him in deep. 

The smells around you coalesce into something potent. With the fruitiness of the lolly and the headiness of Yoongi, it’s pure bliss in your nostrils and you soak it all in. There’s no pause in your sucking, licking, tugging him rough. You’re giving it your all and feeling the effects between your legs. 

Suddenly. 

Huffs litter around your sundress as Yoongi yanks himself out, sticking the sucker in your mouth again while holding your head. And his smile puts devils to shame when he scoffs, “Unfair, my ass.”

You giggle, sliding the pop up and down your outstretched tongue before slowly pushing it in. When you watch one of his veiny hands grip his cock, your brain resets and rewires, prompting you to be a little bit more daring.

As if this whole situation wasn’t daring enough.

You coyly slide one of your sundress straps down your arm, slowly revealing the top of a breast before going for the other side. Not enough to show everything. But enough to give him a much better view from above. 

And the sound you hear in response causes pulses between your legs,

“What the fuck.”

Satisfied, you ride this high of praise and keep diligently sucking on the lolly, watching him pump himself until you can’t can’t can’t take it anymore.

It all happens in quick succession, your hand outright slapping the lollipop out of his hand before grabbing for him, shaky fingers knocking into his slick ones before slipping his dick in your mouth.

“Shit—”

His scent captures your nostrils as he bucks forward, knocking your throat and causing your gag to hit the wall. When you keep sucking, Yoongi grabs your chin, chains swaying as he rocks in, out, in, out again.

Drool and spit cover your neck, seeping onto his fingers as he keeps them where he wants. Imagining how you look in the mirror makes you moan, and imagining Yoongi watching everything from his view makes your cunt leak onto your thighs. 

Fuck you wanna watch, too. What does that say about you? You’re legitimately jealous that you can’t see yourself taking Yoongi so deep he’s cursing in strings. 

When you choke, it’s disgustingly loud, so he has to pull out once again just to command, “Quiet.”

“Ye—” 

He’s shoved back in before you can finish one syllable, back out after a single suck before he drives his point home, “Understand?” 

“Y—”

Your words are pushed down your throat again, the intensity Yoongi’s exuding rolling your eyes back and shaking your muscles. Spent and unable to speak, you nod around him, and your arms are suddenly gathered against the wall until you’re fully flushed, held up by one of his strong hands.

“Good girl.”

You brace yourself for his complete control, dick sliding down your throat and pushing tears out of your eyes. Breathing through your nose, you keep your tongue flat, taking him in until your full body gag alerts him to pull out. 

As soon as he does, you buckle straight towards the mirror, eyes bursting with shock as you drink in the man watching your heaving, shimmering chest.

“This is what you do to me, doll.” When you shift your attention upward, you gulp at his smile of pride. “Can you stand?” 

“I…” Holy shit, he fucked the voice right out of you. “I think so.” 

“Here.” 

You place your hand in his, muscles in your legs stinging at the change in position. When you go slow, Yoongi lets you, and your lips curve tenderly at the way he kisses you at your peak. 

“You almost made me come,” he whispers, chuckling when you watch his eyes. “Fuckin’ hustler.” 

“You didn’t want to?” 

“Not yet.” Winking, Yoongi gives you another peck before getting close. 

As you look in the mirror, you catch the way he kisses along your neck, his hair tickling your skin and his arms bent as he holds yours. It’s almost enough to make you feel higher than royalty, now knowing what it looks like to be feasted on by a king.

“Promise me something,” he rasps. 

“Anything,” you whisper in confidence.

“It’s your turn now.” Another kiss to your ear makes you flinch. “But if you’re too loud that’s all you get.” 

Bold statement coming from the guy that couldn’t stay silent. But you’re far too gone to dwell on the past so all you can do is nod in understanding. You need this. After today? You really fucking need this.

Yoongi tucks himself back in his sweats before kissing your neck again, lips leaving a trail along the tracks left by your own actions. When he gets to your chest, he gets to unwrap another treat, slowly peeling your dress down to suck on a nipple. 

You almost cut the whole thing short. 

A hand flies up over your mouth, and you watch your face twist in anguish in the glass. Sparks tingle from where Yoongi slides his tongue, and seeing this man in action from another viewpoint launches you across the edge instead of right to it. 

You’re gonna get yourself caught. There’s no way you aren’t crying out by the time he’s done but goddamn you’ve got to keep it toge—

Deft fingers rub your other nipple, causing your body to jump forward and Yoongi to chuckle into your chest. After he squeezes, you watch as he pops off your tit. “What’d I say.” 

This is the hardest thing you’ve ever done! 

You can only shake your head, hand still preventing your mouth to move and your throat stinging from suppressed screams. 

“That’s what I thought,” Yoongi quips before kissing the rest of your dress downward. 

And the fucker didn’t even look back at the mirror. Like he already knows exactly what he looks like or doesn’t care in the slightest. All he’s focused on is you and you alone, and you’re so enamoured that you watch his head below you, too. 

Calmly and surely, Yoongi lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, kissing along your skin and gripping you tight. When he lifts a brow upward, you nod downward, bracing yourself for him to notice something else you had planned to show.

Works like a sinful charm. His reaction could be felt better than seen. 

Because as soon as he notices that you don’t have any underwear on, Yoongi pours out dark amusement before giving your cunt the deepest kiss it’s ever felt.

A mewl smushes into your fingers as you cave, eyes shutting so tight as he eats you out like a man starved and never satiated. 

His licks hit just right, and the way he tongues you causes stars to pierce your eyes through. Over and over and over, Yoongi is merciless in how he pleasures, and your esophagus burns and burns and burns. 

Both your legs quake as he slips a finger under his tongue, and your eyes fly open just in time to see yourselves in the mirror again. 

Holy fuck.

You’ve always known this man was attractive. Overwhelmingly so, in fact. But seeing him on his knees and knowing it’s not a dream makes you so dizzy your brain can’t keep up. 

Yoongi’s hands flex on your skin with each minuscule grip, and his hair bunches as he moves between your legs. Your thigh covers his face, but maybe that’s for the best, because you don’t think you could handle watching his tongue while feeling it inside. 

“So fucking wet,” he hisses out before diving in again, and you use your other hand to grapple a chunk of his drying hair. “Fuck.”

Yes, keep going. He’s so close to making you come you squeeze even harder. By now, your whole upper body is burning with unreleased yells and your lower body is suffering just as much. He’s too good. Way too good for a quiet house.

You can’t hold it in. You can’t you can’t you can’t.

“Yoongi, please”—your legs start to twinge with want and pending release—“Gonna come, I—”

Everything snaps as soon as he reaches to grope your ass, tugging you forward to lick a spot that has you vibrating like mad. 

And your orgasm is so potent that your knees legitimately buckle, your body slipping with no purchase before you catch yourself on the wall. Waves hit you from all directions and you let out one yelp before you feel a moist hand clamp over your lips.

Oh, he’s standing now. Oh, he’s fingering you. Oh fuck, he’s talking you through your orgasm and you can’t understand him but your body reacts either way. 

“—another one for me.”

Your pulses wreck your body into angles, each one shifting into another as your mouth is still covered. Yoongi’s fingers prove fatal as he leads you into a second paradise, and you cry into his hand as you come into his other—harder, stronger. 

“Just like that, doll, fuck.”

Tears stream down your cheeks again as you lift, soaring into the summer skies and leaping over sleeping souls. It’s too much to keep inside. Too powerful to not let out all at once. 

“—this fucking dress.”

You don’t know what’s being said. Nor do you care. Your body is so spent from the vicious tempest and all the energy leaves you at once. 

“Uh uh.”

What. 

“One more for me,” Yoongi goads. “And you’re gonna watch this time.” 

Your chest beats and beats as his fingers pump slow, and your head lolls to the side as you catch sight of your salacious act in the mirror. 

Immediately, you know exactly why he said that. Watching the way his arms bulge with effort is encouragement enough to stay upright. With each thrust, you can see your dress hitching with your arches, and Yoongi dives into your neck to strike lightning. 

“Baby—” You feel it. You feel a third wave incoming and its crest seems higher than the rest. 

“Come for me,” he whispers, his dark bangs peeking from behind your neck in the mirror and his throat stretching out. “And don’t fucking scream.” 

Fuck! Your hand grips your mouth so bad it will leave soreness. But water pulls you under and twists you like a ragdoll. Unlike the other times, this orgasm quivers your legs to the point where Yoongi teases. And he can’t stop praising you for being naughty, for letting him in here, for letting him destroy you while everyone’s here.

“I love it,” you whoosh out into his throat, voice cracked and chipped. “Fuck, I love it.” 

“I know you do.” Another deep set of laughs. “You’re a problem.”

Head lolling forward, you slowly slip right into Yoongi’s arms before he helps you stand. “Come on,” he leads, walking you a short distance to your bed before chuckling at your cartoonish collapse.

Some moments pass. One, two, four or five more. Even the room seems to swim a little in your vision when you struggle to open your eyes. 

Finally, after breathing hard, you can only manage a gravelly, “Holy shit.” 

Yoongi laughs soft before wiping your forehead. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” you exhale, chest heaving and heaving. “I’ll be good.” 

Fingers still wisping across your face, he praises, “So beautiful.” 

You finally calm your pulse before you slide your hand over his cock. “Did you come?” 

“Nah.” 

Looks like you aren’t done. “Mm,” you whisper, trying your best to prop yourself up. “Lie down for me.” 

“You sure?” 

You nod with heavy eyes, and he slowly occupies your bed while you caress him again. So smooth and so tender before squeezing just right. 

It’s already almost enough because Yoongi throws his head onto your pillow. “Goddamn.”

When you slip his sweats down, you use willpower alone to consume him again. You will not rest until he’s fully content, too. With this in mind, your cheeks and jaw work overtime. 

You want this, want this, want this. He gave you the world and then some, you can run on fumes to make him a mess. After all, you’re drunk off the pleasurable cocktail he just concocted with his tongue. This will carry you despite your functioning levels in the trenches. 

“Babe—”

For a split second, you forget where you are. Your eyelids droop so low and your body twinges with aftershocks as you spit right onto his cock, sliding your lips along his pretty length before you feel him tug your sheets.

“Shit.”

He’s close. He doesn’t even have to tell you. You can tell by the way his body reacts and bends and folds, and you quickly decide what that means for you.

Because you could swallow. 

But you instead make your way to the floor, commanding him before realizing just how authoritative and raspy you sound, 

“Sit up.”

Right as he does, you pump him right above your exposed chest, shocking him so abruptly his low groan shakes your core,

“Oh, fuck—”

Hot, thick spurts land all over you, his release your only focus and not the pain in your knees from hitting the floor in round two. As his head rolls back, you watch with heightened pride, loving the way he looks lost in delicious, honeyed ecstasy.

And just like that, both of you are satisfied. Both of you got what you needed and wanted from this… hot summer… day…

There was a sound outside your door, further down the hall but fucking close enough. 

And holy shit his cum is on your tits.

Holy shit holy shit this is the absolute last thing you should’ve let him do what the fuck what the fuck! 

If anyone sees you like this you are both finished. Cooked. Banished.

You glance at the door, body locking and hands massive weights at your side. 

One second. 

Two seconds. 

You’re fully awake now. 

Four seconds. 

Nothing else happens. Your ears strain wildly but you don’t hear any noises in succession, and you wonder if it was just a snore or something similar. 

Sighing, you breathe out relief before peering straight up.

And the look you get in return is pure, primal hunger. 

Yoongi’s never looked like this. Maybe he’s come close that one time before, but this is much different. 

What is this? His pupils are magnified and his lids are lowered in fire, stoking the heat within you and clutching your cunt with his eyes alone. You’re so wet that you can come again if he so much as touched you. “Baby?” 

Yoongi simply grazes your cheek with his knuckles. “Just want this in my phone so fucking bad.” 

Oh. Well, fuck. 

You blink at his shamelessness. But it makes you so exhilarated and shy that you resort to your default—cracking jokes. Of all the things he could’ve mentioned like the sound outside or possibly getting caught and dragged to hell he decides he wants your pictures in his phone. Right.

“Happy you painted me like Picasso?” You laugh before you can even finish, but so does Yoongi as he throws his head back. 

Immediately, the atmosphere calms. “You heard that earlier?” 

“He’s an idiot.” 

“He is.” Yoongi helps you up and onto your bed before he asks, “Towels in your bathroom?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Under the sink.”

You watch as he goes to fetch them, heart pulsing extra hard at his consideration. When he bustles around in a room you use everyday, it’s surreal to witness. Both unnatural, but so natural at the same time. 

He’s careful not to make loud sounds, gently closing your cabinets and coming back with a cloth he ran under water.

A sudden pang hits your chest and you have no clue why.

Is it because you’ll never see him in there again? Or is it because of the conversation you just brought up? 

Maybe both. The convo from earlier today still rings in your ears, everyone hounding Yoongi about the scratches you left on his back. They were old but still very visible. You need to be more mindful of what you can and can’t do right now. 

As Yoongi wipes your shivering chest, you ask something that’s been weighing on your mind, “Did I get you in even more trouble?” 

He just looks at you before finishing his cooling task, raising straps back onto your shoulders. “Course you did.” 

Ah. He didn’t seem bothered, but your apology follows him as he goes to pick up the abandoned candy from earlier. “Sorry. I didn’t think about it at the time.” 

“S’ok. Hope you’re fine being some chick from outta town, though.” 

Your chuckle hurts your throat on the way out. Not from disappointment, but from the very man you’re talking to. “I can deal with that. Is she nasty?” 

It takes a bit for him to discard everything. When he comes back, he bends down to answer, 

“So fuckin’ nasty.” 

You giggle right into his kiss. Fully spent, your arms around his neck pull him in close, and his rough laugh makes your legs even weaker. “Can’t believe we just did all that.”

“Same.”

“Guess you like the dress, huh?”

A hand comes up to squeeze your thigh. “Dunno. Might have to see it again when the sun’s out.”

“Ass.”

“You get it.”

“Wow.” 

Yoongi hisses amusement, shifting to lay beside you across your bed. When he does, light from the window hits him just right, and you fall silent at once.

So perfect. So unfair.

“I think this is my favorite,” you admit, not giving him full context. So when he wordlessly asks for it, you reach up and caress his cheek. “When you look happy.”

“I am,” he says after a pause. “Cus of you.”

You feel starlight in your own eyes. “I’m happy, too.”

For this, Yoongi doesn’t need to ask for more context at all.

The lingering fear of being caught is still there, but it’s not as present now. Maybe it’s because you’re both content again, but you don’t feel too stressed. 

Did you want to get caught that whole time? Surely not when things were going down.

But what about now? If someone saw you lost in each others’ stars, would you care if they plucked you from the sky? 

Staring into this man’s eyes, you can’t bring yourself to say you would. 

“When will I see you again?” you blurt out of nowhere.

At this, Yoongi props his head up with an elbow. “When do you want to?”

“Tomorrow.”

His chest bobs with his laugh. “I’ll make sure to see you before I head out then.” 

You nod, eyes shutting when Yoongi goes in for another kiss. 

Another kiss is how you frame it. Because a final kiss is too painful to think about. 

Yoongi has to leave. You know he literally cannot stay.

But facts and logic don’t make this parting any easier, and your heart breaks when he slips out of your bed.

It’s too soon. Yes, it’s also way past the time he should be in your room, but it’s too fucking soon. 

Your chest burns. Sears make fiery ridges along your ribs until they overtake your heart, creeping closer and closer.

Until Yoongi bends to kiss you again, fingers slotting into yours and squeezing some liquid out of your eyes. 

But his rasp gives you pause, “I did, by the way.”

Blinking, you feel him swipe at oncoming tears when you ask, “You did what?”

“Have fun.”

Oh. Wait, he’s answering the text you sent? You already forgot about that. Ages ago. “Good,” you say with a slight ghost of a smile. “It looked like you were having a good time. And I.. Really liked seeing you laugh.”

Yoongi just stares, thoughts and emotions skimming across his eyes. When you reach up to cradle his cheek, they then slip shut, brows dipping as he presses into you further. “You were the reason,” he admits with no hesitation.

Don’t cry more. Not now.

He gives you one more hug, and you cradle his head into your skin. “Good night, baby,” you whisper so softly, planting a kiss on his cheek. 

When he does the same to yours, you wonder if his reaction was also reminiscent of tiny sparklers on a summer night. 

“Night, doll.” 

The steps he takes all stomp on your heart. 

But you find solace in the hopeful future. One where you can stand next to him at summer barbecues, or host them with him, or just simply be anywhere with him. 

But mostly, you’re yearning for a future where you don’t have to keep watching him leave through a door. 

But come back through one.

-

-

fin. :)

-

🍭so... how did it go!🍭 | join the server! | join the taglist!

a/n: thank you to everyone that has stuck around while i took my huge rest! it was a little strange to not be here everyday talking to you all, but looking back, the resting and step back was needed. although it looks like some people left - whether the blog or in general - i am happy to see so many familiar and new people! let's keep having fun with the 3tanverse and beyond, yeah? a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! i'll be here to talk and scream with y'all whenever, and it should be more frequent now. also be on the lookout for some physical copy interest checks! we are getting closer to 3tan copies being A Real Thing! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[rumriverautos]

Wondering what does a brake service include? The brake repair experts at Rum River Automotive will be happy to answer your questions.

[ma1dita]

A Luke and Trouble smut in the car

a/n: she's back.... and with a trouble!verse smut gasp. anyways if you haven't read the series all you need to know is luke calls her trouble. if you do wanna check it out, read 'partners in crime' here!

luke castellan x fem!dionysus!reader

wc: 1.1k

“We’re gonna be late,” you grumble under your breath. The sun is setting on Long Island faster than you and your boyfriend thought it would with the old hatchback slowly inching through Queens traffic. 

There’s only an hour left before curfew. 

And Luke Castellan drives like someone’s blind grandpa.

“Relax, babe—once we get onto the expressway, we’ll be straight sailing from there!” Luke says, with a hint of a smile prodding at his cheek. You were never a patient person, fidgeting in the passenger seat next to him, sweaty thighs stuck to worn leather. The air vents are tired, sounding like gasping coughs, and every car in New York City seems to be inching forward and unable to pick up the breeze.

“You said that forty minutes ago.”

“C’mon, it’s not all that bad, trouble. We get to have some extra time together. And be alone,” his voice is as smooth as the rumbling engine, taking his fingertips to the soft of your thigh. You’d find him sweet if you didn’t feel like ripping all your clothes off right now. “You know how rare that is for us.”

“M’just so hot, babe. I feel like I’m fucking dying,” you groan, exaggeratedly flopping over the console and onto his shoulder. He doesn’t mind being stuck to you like this, wet skin and shiny lips nuzzling against his neck and he licks a drop of sweat from his cupid’s bow. Your gentle kisses sear onto his skin and he has to inhale deeply, almost eyeing the horizon and daring for it to darken slower.  Foot tapping on the brake a little too harshly, the car is a toe away from rolling into the one in front of you.

“You’re not going to die. Would be lame if you did.”

“But baby, it’s like I’m about to explode,” you whine louder, “feels like we’re sitting on the surface of the sun!” Even at his wits’ end, your boyfriend can’t find the gall to get mad at you. Especially when your tank top flies into his lap, right over the growing bulge in his shorts that’s keeping him hot and bothered. Luke almost goes nonverbal at the goosebumps that rise—and you haven’t even touched him yet. You’re fumbling with something, knocking around in your seat as he shakes his head and tries to focus on the road.

“Don’t.”

The car behind you honks slightly and he swallows dryly, running his hand through the wet mop of curls as he rolls forward. Fuck New Jersey drivers, he thinks, this guy shouldn’t have gotten a license—what!

“You should’ve just let me drive,” your voice disrupts his inner monologue, and he doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re grinning, “Would’ve gotten there faster than you, speedster.”

You know exactly what you’re doing.

“We’re gonna be late.” Hand flexing over the gear shift, his eyes dart across the road, quickly mapping out a path to the next exit. Your panties fall over his fist, a flash of black lace and damp with something other than just sweat.

“Aren’t you a son of Hermes? Make it work.”

Horns honking like a symphony, he weaves through traffic almost dangerously fast and not being able to do anything else but bite his lip when he hears you laugh through the chaos of it all.

—

“Sh–Shit! We’re gonna…” 

Luke’s the one laughing now as he slaps a hand over your throat, pistoning deeper into your warmth, and fuck, everything about you feels like fire. It’s the type of burn that licks at you from the inside out—but Luke tends to it with vigor, feeling you with every inch of his being. Your hands slap onto his wrist to hold him there, eyes rolling back into your head with wispy breaths of bliss. 

It’s dark now, and you’ve both somewhat safely stopped the car in a wooded area—Luke ripping off the rest of your clothes and his own before taking you belly-up in the backseat and your calves sitting pretty against his shoulders. 

“Be late? You weren’t worried about that earlier,” he teases.

The illegal fireworks and other illicit goods you’re trying to smuggle back to camp jostle in a box on the ground, digging painfully into his shins but he’s too busy stamping his hands into the shape of your breasts, rubbing you down with the mixture of both of your sweat that rolls with the momentum of your bodies.

“Fuck, Luke!”

Looking down at you with heat in his gaze, his thumb prods at your swollen lips, tapping lightly for you to open up. You do without a single complaint. He loves you, yes—even when you’re mouthy, but you look extra pretty when he gets to fuck you dumb and there’s no one around to bother you two. Grunting, you can feel and hear your skin slap against his when he leans forward to delve deeper if it’s even possible. All of you is red-hot from his passion, cock thrusting harshly so much that you can feel it slam against your insides.

For a moment you think he must hate you—dancing on the line of hot and hurt. 

Your eyes lock and you both grin.

“Let me take care of it. Gonna let me take care of you, right pretty girl?” He spits, a straight shot into your waiting mouth and an inhuman noise crawls up from your caged throat.

Leaning up to kiss him and grappling at his shoulders, he smiles into your pout, smeared lipgloss and runny mascara transferring onto his tanned skin. He loves it, knowing that you’re all over him and feeling branded by you even in the dark of the night.

A light flashes in your peripherals and you pull off him with a gasp.

“Is that a car?”

“We’re fine,” he grits, locking your legs around his waist and trying to focus—you’re so soft and soaking all over. His hands slip to your ass, clapping your cheek as he jerks his cock into you harder, making you whine. “They’re not… going this direction. Stop getting distracted.”

The heat builds from your core, pussy pulsing, and tears almost sizzling off your cheeks, so shiny and tempting that he licks a trail up to your ear. 

“I don’t want you to stop. Don’t… you dare, Luke. Fuck!”

Light filters through the darkness behind your eyelids as you grind yourself on his lap rapidly, chasing your high until the end. In a few hours from now, it’s back to business—but Luke has always been one to remind you of your mischievous side.

“Shit, trouble,” he sighs in bliss.

A blip of a siren goes off from outside, followed by quickly approaching footsteps towards your foggy windows.

“Shit,” you repeat back to him with wide eyes, untangling your legs and quickly trying to find your magic Zippo lighter through the mess of clothes at your feet.

—

Lessons were learned, and Connor and Travis were elected to go on supply runs from then on.

[expertcarcare]

Wondering how do you know when your brakes need replacing?  Ask the professionals at Expert Car Care Inc if it’s time for a brake replacement.

[autoandfleetmechanic]

Wondering about what are the signs of bad brake? Ask the brake replacement specialists at Auto & Fleet Mechanic to inspect your braking system.

[zaczenemiji]

hiii! req for kenji like imagine reader and ken are dating but he hasnt been able to talk to her alot since of raisng emi and ultraman, so after emi is gone what if he treats her to a little picnic date telling her about what happened and how sorry he is for kinda leaving her out in the blue

From LA, with Love

Kenji Sato x Reader

Word Count: 2,656

Genre/Warnings: Long-Distance Relationship

Author's Note: My longest one so far; sometimes I write without brakes 😩

MASTERLIST

"Breaking news from Tokyo: A baseball game at the Tokyo Dome was disrupted tonight by the sudden appearance of a kaiju. Spectators were evacuated, and the city is currently under high alert."

Your heart pounded as the screen switched to footage of the chaos. The camera panned over terrified spectators fleeing the stadium and a massive kaiju rampaging through the city streets.

At the corner of the footage, you spotted familiar landmarks in the background and felt a knot tighten in your stomach. Those looked like the pictures Kenji sent you for updates.

The newscaster continued, "Among the players was rising baseball star Kenji Sato—“

The sound of glass breaking was heard at the mention of his name. Your tea now spilled on the floor, shards of broken glass around it.

Your breath got caught in your throat. Your boyfriend was there, in the middle of the chaos and there was nothing you could do. You were literally 5,000 miles away on the other side of the planet.

You knew you should’ve listened to your gut when it told you to come with Kenji to Japan. If something bad happens to him tonight, you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself especially when there was something you could’ve done.

Quickly, you grabbed your phone, trying to call him, but the call went straight to voicemail. Panic surged through you, but you tried to remain as calm as you could.

The news feed cut to shaky footage that showed Kenji at bat with the crowd cheering, but suddenly, screams filled the air as the kaiju appeared overhead. The camera focused on Kenji, his face a mix of determination and fear before he disappeared from view in the ensuing chaos.

That was all the media said that night. It’s not like LA News would take an extra mile for Kenji; so you desperately searched for more information. Unfortunately, updates were sparse.

It was currently 3 AM in LA and your mind raced with worry. Was he safe? Why hadn't he called you?

You didn’t stop looking for information. You’ve checked the whole internet, called hotlines you thought could give you an update, and stayed up til sunrise.

Suddenly, your phone beeped and you have never been this fast on grabbing it. It was a text message from Kenji, "I'm okay. Can't talk now. Please don't worry. I love you.”

You held your phone close to your chest, a temporary relief washing over. You clung to those words but uncertainty still gnawed in you. You had so many questions and no answers.

Little did you know, Kenji was not just caught in the chaos; he was fighting it as Ultraman, a secret he was yet to reveal. The only reason he told you he was going back to Japan was that he wanted to play for the Giants, his favorite team as a child.

It was a random day that he told you he wanted to go back to Japan, and immediately at that. At first, you were hurt, thinking about how it seemed so easy to leave you in LA when you had loose ends you needed to tie first.

Your job demanded your attention. You were in the middle of wrapping up a significant project that required your presence. Your boss was understanding but insisted you complete the handover to your replacement to ensure a smooth transition.

Then your apartment lease was coming to an end. You needed to sort through your belongings, decide what to keep, sell, or store, and handle the logistics of moving out. This was time-consuming, and you had to coordinate with movers and real estate agents.

Lastly, your family. You were born here in LA and only went out of the country for vacations. But with how Kenji decided to stay in Japan for good, you wanted to follow. You couldn't leave without ensuring your parents and siblings were taken care of and comfortable.

Communication with Kenji became difficult in the weeks that followed after the Tokyo Dome incident.

It was a late evening in LA and an afternoon in Japan. You sat by your laptop, staring at the screen, waiting for Kenji's call. The clock ticked past the scheduled time, and your heart sank with each passing minute.

Finally, your phone buzzed with a message, "I'm so sorry, I can't make the call today. Something urgent came up. I'll explain later."

You sighed, typing back a quick reply, "I understand. Stay safe. I miss you." But he never got a chance to explain anything.

Recently, some things urgent have always arisen around Kenji. It wasn't the first time a call had been missed, and you knew it wouldn't be the last.

You were left with nothing but to watch his games and interviews on TV. However, he didn’t seem like himself in all of them. LA’s pride, the Kenji Sato, seemed like a rookie in the Japanese stadium.

His games were all chaotic with some of them ending in fist fights. When the camera focuses on him, you see nothing but an exhausted man. You never saw him like that before which made you worry what the heck is going on over there.

You clearly had no idea, at all, about what was happening to him. The last time you had a call, the connection was poor, and his voice kept cutting out.

"...so much going on here... trying… keep everyone safe..."

"Kenji, I can barely hear you. Can you repeat that?"

“...wish I could talk longer... love you...”

The call dropped before she could respond, leaving her staring at the screen, feeling more alone than ever.

All of these: being kept in the dark, zero communication, and the constant worry were making you rush the things you needed to wrap up before heading to Japan.

There was a time, you told him that you were thinking of coming to Japan first to help him with whatever he was going through, and just be back to LA afterward to take care of the things you left.

But it’s complicated, he said, with things happening that could put you in danger—more than the kaiju attacks, and that it’s better to stay in LA for now. You knew there was something he wasn’t telling you and it scared you.

Kenji promised to explain everything when the time was right. He told him he loves you more than anything and that he’s doing this to protect you.

You didn’t understand anything but you trusted him, waited for him, and been patient with him.

Soon after, it started to seem like things were getting better for Kenji. The Giants were now back on their track and Kenji was back to his usual self, if not better. Communication has been re-established and not a day went by that he didn’t call you.

Before you knew it, the last of your loose ends had been tied and you were finally ready to fly to Japan. You received a message from Kenji, “Things are calmer now. I miss you. Can't wait to see you."

Your heart ached with longing. You had worked tirelessly to clear your schedule and now was finally the moment. You had your flight booked, bags packed, and said goodbye to friends and family.

At the airport, you paused before boarding, sending one last message to Kenji, "On my way. See you soon."

As the plane took off, you stared out the window, the city lights of Los Angeles fading into the distance. The hardest part was over. You were finally on your way to Japan to finally understand everything that had kept you apart, and to be there for Kenji in ways you couldn't before.

The bustling Tokyo airport was filled with the sounds of announcements, the rolling of luggage, and the chatter of travelers. Kenji stood near the arrival gate, his heart racing with anticipation.

He clutched a bouquet of your favorite flowers, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. After months of limited communication and the constant weight of his responsibilities as Ultraman, he was finally going to see you.

He scanned the crowd, searching for your familiar face among the sea of strangers. His phone buzzed with a message, and he quickly checked it, “Just landed. Can't wait to see you."

Kenji's heart skipped a beat. Moments later, he spotted you emerging from the gate, eyes darting around, searching for him. Your eyes met, and you broke into a wide smile, your pace quickening as you rushed toward him.

He closed the distance, pulling you into a tight embrace as soon as you reached him. The bouquet was momentarily forgotten, dropped to the floor as he held you close, feeling the warmth and reality of your presence.

"I've missed you so much," you whispered, voice trembling with emotion.

"I've missed you too," Kenji replied, his voice thick with relief and love. "I'm so glad you're here."

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a mixture of happiness and concern, "What's been going on?"

Kenji sighed, feeling the weight of the past few months. "There's so much to tell you,” he replied. “But let's get out of here first. I want to take you somewhere we can talk."

He picked up the forgotten bouquet, handing it to you with a sheepish smile, "These are for you."

You took the flowers, your smile widening, “Thank you, Kenji. They're beautiful."

All exhaustion from your 11-hour flight was wiped away at this moment. You were thankful for the naps you took on the plane because you didn’t want to pass out at the moment of your reunion.

The two of you then made your way out of the airport, the chaos and noise gradually fading as you stepped into the relative calm of the parking lot. Kenji led you to his car, loading your luggage into the trunk before opening the passenger door for you.

As Kenji drove through the city, you took in the sights. You’ve never been to Japan before, your excitement mingled with curiosity. "So, where are we going?" You asked.

Kenji glanced at you, a small smile playing on his lips. "I thought we'd go to a park nearby,” he answered. “It's a quiet place where we can sit and talk."

You nodded, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "I've been so worried about you,” you said. “I can't wait to hear everything."

You arrived at the park just as the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape. Kenji found a secluded spot under a large oak tree, spreading out a blanket and setting up the picnic he had prepared.

You sat down together, the peaceful surroundings providing a stark contrast to the turmoil of recent months. Kenji took your hands in his, looking into your eyes.

"I'm sorry for everything," he began. "For not telling you sooner, for the missed calls and the worry. There's something I need to explain."

You looked at him with eyes full of concern and love. "I'm here now, Kenji,” you said. “Whatever it is, we'll get through it together."

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "A lot has happened since we last saw each other” he started. “I've been dealing with something big, something I couldn't tell you about over the phone."

You watched him intently, grip tightening on his hands, “What is it?"

Kenji sighed, feeling the weight of his secret pressing down on him. "You remember the day of the game when Gigantron attacked?” He asked. “That wasn't the first time something like that happened. And I've been involved in every one of those incidents."

Your eyes widened in shock, but you didn't interrupt, letting him continue. "I'm Ultraman," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I've been fighting kaijus to protect the city. And recently, I found myself responsible for raising a baby kaiju who needed my help” he continued. “I couldn’t risk telling anyone, and I didn't know how to tell you."

You sat in stunned silence for a moment, processing everything. "You've been fighting monsters and raising a kaiju baby?” You asked. “Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped."

"I didn't want to drag you into the danger," he said, his voice filled with regret. "But I realize now that keeping you in the dark only made things worse. I'm so sorry for shutting you out."

You looked at him, your eyes softening. "I wish you had told me sooner, but I understand why you didn't,” you replied. “I just want to be there for you, Kenji. We’ll face anything together."

Kenji felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Thank you for understanding,” he said. “I promise, no more secrets and I don’t want to be far away from you anymore."

You held your arms out and gestured for him to hug you. He rested his head on your chest, his safe place. Oh, how he longed for it in the last months when he needed it most.

You could feel his tensed muscles relax at your touch. You peppered his forehead with kisses as you ran your hand lovingly across his hair.

He craved your touches the most and now that he’s in between your arms, it felt as if a heavy weight was taken off his shoulders.

He had so much more to tell but he decided that they were stories for the coming days. There’s no need to rush; after all, you’re here now.

Getting back to his agenda for today, Kenji slowly leaned back. "I hope you're hungry," he said with a grin, placing a small bouquet of wildflowers in the center of the blanket.

On the blanket were an assortment of your favorite foods: sushi, fresh fruit, and homemade mochi. You looked at the spread with delight. "This looks amazing, Kenji,” you said. “You've really outdone yourself."

"I wanted it to be special," he replied. "You deserve the best."

The two of you began to eat, savoring the food and each other's company. Kenji watched you with a soft smile as you tried a piece of sushi. "I remember you loved this one," he said, pointing to a beautifully crafted roll.

Your cheeks slightly flushed from happiness, "This is why I love you!"

As you ate, Kenji told you about the peaceful moments he found in the chaos. He would ask Mina to flash pictures of the two of you together and it would instantly calm him. Even Emi was calmed by it.

You sat in front of Kenji, back pressed against his chest and you between his legs. You held the box of sushis in your hand. From time to time, you’d turn slightly to look up and feed him.

At times, he’d lay his head on your lap, looking up at you, admiring the face he loves. You’d put your hand on his hair, gently stroking it as he tells you all about Emi.

He told you someday he’d take you to meet Emi; he’s sure she would love you. But for now, he just wanted to spend time with you. He felt bad for having neglected you these past months.

After you finished eating, the two of you lay back on the blanket, gazing up at the sky. It was already nighttime by then and the two of you didn’t even notice the time that passed.

Above you, the stars began to twinkle. Kenji pulled you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you rested your head on his bicep. The world around you faded into the background.

"I love you," he whispered, the words carrying all the emotions he had held back.

"I love you too, Kenji," you replied, your voice equally soft. It felt so surreal to hear it in person after months of only hearing it on calls. “More than you'll ever know."

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