#i had to reply to this Immediately lmao
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🫖🐭☁️🍚
#so i did meet my old friend from years ago yesterday. i was sooooo nervous omgggg. and i was waiting outside the café we agreed on#and then saw them walk in and i was like omgggg. the anxiety... but then i gathered courage and walked towards it and thry saw me thru the#window and came out and immediately hugged me. then they were like 'omg i've been so nervous. even more than before like a date!!'#so that made me relax a bit. i feel like i dont really fully estimate what i mean to them. maybe they care about me as well haha !!#then we just got our stuff and i chose a smoothie and was ready to pay but they just got it with their stuff (they work at this chain so#they got a discount). i feel so so bad & anxious when someone else pays for me. like i feel like a burden#but i asked twice if i should send them money for it and they were like no that's fine. so i had to tell myself to just shut up abt it 🥲#bc if u keep asking u make it into a thing and make them uncomfortable etc. so i really appreciated that and it was nice even if i felt bad#but yeah then we just sat down and talked. and it was so much easier to talk to them than i had been worried abt#like it flew nicely and yeah.. i feel like i forgot a lot abt them. like they're good at conversating. so they kept it going & even if i was#awkward it was fine for them. i did however get swept up in my own anxiety so as they asked me questions i answered#but then was too whirlwindy so i didnt really ask as much back and there were things i wanted to ask but didnt :')))#then they had cards and a card game with them. so we played for a bit too. and it was a lot of fun!!! (i was anxious and kinda slow lmao#bc when i dont know smth or the rules etc already my brain stops working so yeah.. even if it was simple games i was like um um what do i do#felt stupid but yeah again they didnt do anyhing to contribute to me feeling stupid but i still felt slow >.<#but i still thought that was so much fun. i wanna do more of that T-T like yeah...that was nice#then we took a lil longer walk to a bus stop before hastily said goodbye bc the busses came T-T#it was really really really nice tho. i have missed them a lot#and i didnt .. think we would ever see eachother again. i really didnt think this could happen#im so glad i somehow got brave enough to message them and im so so glad they wanted to see me too#i cant help but wish i could go back to when we were younger#and we spent every day in school together and messaged during the days and evenings and spent sm time together#when we went into the city like several times a week and took long walks. ahh... well. im glad we got to have those moments#& idk what will happen now. i really really want to see them again. even if we'll never be that close friends again i'd *wish* that we could#still be in touch. but im so bad at replying which doesnt go over great with them.. i'll try my best to reply quicker to them#*if* they message me. sadly i cant erase my avpd but i'll try my best to reply faster if and when they message)#they also complimented my sweater i was wearing (which is my fav sweater) !!!! and yeah.. they looked so cool. which they always have#and i kept thinking abt how nice their eye makeup was (i was too shy to compliment it tho bc im really bad at like 'nice' affectionate and#anything feeling related. like im so bad... so i couldnt say anything </3)#ugh it was just so nice to sit and talk with them. im so glad i went despite my fears. bc this was so good and nice :')))
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Some of those doctors make hating oat milk their entire personality. I hate them. Cannot pretend to find them funny or like i give a shit. Fucking pretentious assholes
#also my colleague (the girl i had my shift with) is the exact opposite of me in all aspects. asked me if I'd ever worked in customer service#because i couldn't care less about being fake friendly to assholes and don't care if they like the service or not#like bitch those people don't have any other choice but drink our fucking coffee it's not like I'm competing with anyone#or like they pay us in any way. i get paid for doing the dumb work i have to do not for stroking some dumb ass doctors' egos#they come out of their rooms once an hour to get coffee and we have the cups on the table and i wouldn't even Think of#HANDING them the cups and smiling sweetly at them and asking 'coffee? tea?? :))'#I'll just assume these grown adults will get their stupid coffee or tea when they want some. it's not like they don't know where it is#(and i AM friendly and smile when someone is coming in our direction but why the fuck do you need to get so disgustingly friendly with them#if someone held up a cup asking if i.want some coffee I'd leave immediately even if i came just for coffee. it's creepy)#anyway. she's nice. I'm not.#there's normal people who will get their coffee and maybe ask if the milk in the little jug is cow milk to which I'll happily reply 'yes#:)'. then there's the other people who see the oat milk and make it clear they are the most insufferable people on the planet#(and i pity their patients so much. not much to choose from i guess but if i had that as a doctor I'd happily just die)#like everyone who took oatmilk could do it without making a fuss about the cow milk on the table. the cow milk lovers could never#'the oat milk is in front of the actual milk. this is unacceptable. i hate such healthy bullshit' lol okay#'OAT milk?? I'll leave this to the horses! THANK GOD you have actual milk!'#my favorite was the one who really took personal offense with its sheer presence. as if it had killed half of his patients lmao#'we had 50 patients with xyz problem. ALL of them drink oat milk. they cannot see the connection. it's really unhealthy'#at this point i just said i didn't care and stopped paying attention and he started complaining to his doctor colleague about how#oat milk is advertised to be healthy and how it's actually the opposite and i just find that very funny compared to the first comment#from that one guy who doesn't like such healthy bullshit. you guys need to find a consensus on the oatmilk issue i think. no one takes you#seriously if you contradict yourself like this. also i couldn't care less about the healthiness of the milk alternative of my choice. bitch.#next week I'll end up killing someone. i hope they all die from their cow milk. (but not the ones who took cow milk and didn't say anything#about the oat milk. they can continue living as they didn't annoy me)#void screams#some of these doctors were actually quite nice (most of them even). one even brought an applicant to us telling her to get some coffee#(which we are not allowed to give to applicants. but i don't care. I'd rather they get something than some of the asshole jury members#who hate oat milk (which is not the issue. the issue is them making it everybody else's issue that they don't like oat milk))
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tinder won't let me delete my broken account and when I emailed them about it they said there's no account attached to my email address so the deletion must've been successful, even though I was literally logged into the account through that email address at that very moment. it's probably a sign from some higher power that i shouldn't inflict my craziness on another person, but I would really like to be kissed
#I know there are other dating apps but I don't like them#I hate the set up of bumble and I hate the voice message option on hinge#I matched w this guy last year on hinge and we were really vibing but then he started sending voice messages#so I felt like I had to send them back#which meant it took me way longer to reply to him bc I have voice insecurity and needed to practice what I was saying like a dozen times#and also bc you can't shoot off a voice message when you're at work or out for dinner or at a party. you've got to wait til you're alone#and it was my birthday so I was surrounded by people all weekend#he asked me on a date and then unmatched me bc I didn't reply immediately lmao
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I know it's probably just a part of restarting the lamotrigine, but. holy fuck does it have me short on spoons and patience and. Everything mentally today lmao
#text post#worst case scenario I find out this med no longer helps me and i stop it#but it's been less than a week so I know this is just. Part Of It All lmao#that said every decision I've had to make today has immediately paralysed me and/or immediately made me angry/upset so. That's something#that usually only happens when I'm already overwhelmed and/or overstimulated but it's EVERYTHING today as if im stuck in a state of that#like. I had to choose if i wanted to work upstairs or downstairs today (surveys and writing) and i had tears in my eyes trying to choose#im upstairs rn and considering going down but. yeah. Having An Moment#and I hope this effect doesn't last more than a few weeks to a month at longest lmao#on that note apologies if u reach out and i don't reply right away i absolutely will be reaching back out!!#I just need a bit today to try and chill my brain out before I'm talking to anyone for an extended period of time#hoping if i wrangle the spoons for that now I can use them all and feel better by this evening which has worked in the past so!!!
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I swear like once a week some name I've never seen before trends on Twitter and when I click on the trend, I discover yet another annoying comedian/podcaster/youtuber who has the literal worst fans on the planet earth.
like how many times will we be subjected to
"who's [x]?" "a shitty edgelord who makes racist/sexist/queerphobic content." (eighty blue-checks bust through a wall) "AND THAT'S WHY HE'S GREAT!!!"
genuinely, where the fuck are these people even coming from? I've never heard of any of these people in my life but they apparently all have legions of brain-dead fans who will go full
at the drop of a hat
#this time was shane gillis btw#to save you a click if you see the name:#apparently he's a comedian who was fired from SNL immediately for being wildly homophobic and racist#but they're having him on as a guest soon because nbc had their spine surgically removed years ago#and literally any tweet talking about it has the worst people you've ever seen in your life clogging the replies#I guess it helped me fill out my block list but other than that the experience was tedious : /#wow they're already trying to scrub his wikipedia page too by taking out the actual quotes lmao
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@ratwhsprsㅤㅤ(x)
ㅤeven as barely-contained aggression practically oozed off the stranger, the amusement never left byan's expression. what was that? fear that he'd gotten the wrong apartment, maybe? some odd sense of jealousy? or perhaps it was merely withdrawal-induced hostility? whatever the case, it was interesting. ghouls were still one of the aspects of kindred life which they didn't know much about — being unable to create their own left the topic quite low on their list of priority when it came to things they needed to learn about — and up until that very moment, betty was the only one they were familiar with. this was their first time meeting a human ghoul, and they couldn't deny that they were a little intrigued.
fortunately for the both of them, he seemed to settle down after a moment or two. now that he was looking distinctly less like he wanted to murder them on the spot, the fledgling simply stepped aside when he made to enter the apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. in a stark contrast to the ghoul's care not to touch anything, they sauntered back over to the couch like they owned the place, where they dropped unceremoniously onto the cushions and kicked their feet up on the coffee table.
ㅤㅤ" byan, "��they answered casually, as if that explained anything. leaning forward to snatch their bottle of nail polish from where they left it when they were so rudely interrupted by a knock at the door, they then flopped back into their seat, unscrewing the lid.
ㅤㅤ" a friend of garrett's, i guess. "ㅤalthough it was the one f word they were not so fond of using, friend seemed the easiest way to describe their relationship with the nosferatu. a ghoul certainly didn't need to know that he was, in a way, filling the role of their absent sire. brushing a streak of black across one of their nails, byan cast a sidelong glance in the other's direction, an eyebrow raising.
ㅤㅤ" man, you look strung the fuck out. y'really are here for your fix, huh? "ㅤthe statement was blunt, carrying some of that amusement which continued to tug at the corner of their mouth.ㅤ" might as well take a seat, i don't think he's gonna grab the spray bottle if he finds you on the furniture. "
#ratwhsprs#━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ ic ⋮ we are not just graffiti on a passing train.#━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ verse: fledgling.#i wasn't gonna immediately reply to this but i had too many tasty thoughts that i didn't wanna lose lmao#not me forgetting about eido until i was proofreading smh#but since i'm so behind on replying to that thread and idk if they're gonna find out about her being a ghoul ANYWAY.......#i'm running with the idea that they at least THINK this is the first human ghoul they've met
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☕️ Daffy to Lukhege. (@booksofthelibrary )
She happily strolls up to him and handing him a matching mug of hot chocolate with a big smile.
Well... This was embarrassing.
Lukhege's cheeks flushed red. Slowly, he lowered the two mugs in his own hands alongside his gaze. It seemed they were a bit too much in the same train of mind — In his hand was a small, modest wooden cup as well, a trail of steam coming out from the top.
"......" Lukhege gave a single nod of acknowledgement. If Daffy were to look much closer, it was certain she’d see the usual spaced out look he got in his eyes when he got too embarrassed. Luke turned his head away, took a breath, and closed his eyes for a short moment before finally speaking - His gaze still somewhat averted. “... I was looking for you. I thought this would have taken the chill off...” He motioned half-heartedly to the cup in his hands with his head. He seemed to grow less mollified as he went on, fortunately, gradually managing to redirect his gaze back onto her. “It’s a winter specialty from our village. For celebration. We take all what’s left of our preserved berries and gather cloves for the winter to heat over the fire to warm ourselves. Cloves are always difficult to find, but there wasn’t even much of the berries to be made this year. Everything seemed to rot so quickly...” He sighed, then offered a polite smile. “... I did manage to make a cup for you - If you would like. There is little there, so you don’t need to worry yourself about chilling your own drink, either.” A pause. Lukhege gently accepted the offered mug from her hands and peered inside while holding his hand out in offer of his own drink towards Daffy. “... What is this...?” The colour and texture looked like some sort of thick, brown mud. The white, gooey-looking toppings strewn about it also suggested some kind of deep-run rot, too... Lukhege’s throat grew tight. His nose couldn’t help but scrunch a bit at the thought - Was this even safe? Perhaps a bit hesitantly, he craned his head down and took a sniff. “...” It smelled sweet, and almost to a sickly extent he never recalled having sensed before. Whether that was a positive or negative to his own worries, he couldn’t say, yet... He didn’t know how to explain it, but it didn’t smell dangerous. The cup lifted, lowered a bit, and finally, he took a gulp. “... U-Ugh!?” Was it regret that had slapped him across the face just then? Or possibly bliss? Lukhege’s whole body shuddered, his shoulders jerking a bit as he held back the urge to puke. “It... This is...!!” There was no denying it tasted good, but... Why in the name of the Gods was it so sweet!? Another small lurch of his body, the boy forcibly swallowing back the bile that rose in his throat through all the oncoming nausea. Luke struggled to regain his composure, taking several deep breaths through tightly shut eyes until he finally felt some semblance of human again. He didn’t want Daffodil to get the wrong idea, but... Almost immediately he straightened up, managing a somewhat humoured, awkward smile to ward off the tension as he tried to speak. “...A little hot, nothing more.”
#booksofthelibrary#||Reply||:Daffodil#{/daffy bro you almost killed him}#{/this just in: god from another planet insta-kills medieval child through sugar overdose}#{/I was originally gonna make this a modern AU but thought this would be better}#{/AND it would explain the Kinderpunsch better considering modern Luke and his bros live in like.... fucking utah lmao}#{/Sorry for the wait though!! Thank you sm for the ask~ I love these two dfskgjhdfkjh}#{/Reminds me I GOTTA show you this thing that immediately brought me back to them}#{/you'll probably know it when you see it but it had me in tears dfksghjfdjkh}
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EXTRA:
florian, kieran, and kieran's hydrapple
(+ furret & carmine)
I like to imagine those syrpents being total gremlins lol
#pokemon#pokemon scarlet violet#shi's art#LMAO I immediately drew that after waking up seeing that reply#I just had to draw it
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my brother is always SO vague abt his personal life w me I need to sit him down and grill him if I see him next month in person 😡
#my mum said he had a new gf and they must be serious bc he wanted to bring her to dinner to MEET my mum which hes never done before#and apparently hes planning on staying in his uni city after he graduates and working there so they can stay together#but he hasnt said a WORD of this to me except just now he randomly dmed asking me for pics of our dog dressed up in xmas gear#and was like '[girl] wanted pics of her shes basically adopted her :)' and i was like damn is that ur new gf u didnt tell me abt her???#and he replied 'not quite but yeah' QUIT IT W THE CRYPTIC SHIT IM NOSY!!!!!#maybe theyre not actually dating dating ik my mum gets carried away w gossip sometimes#wish he would stop dodging my questions tho.......#altho tbf im equally bad i had a gf for almost 2 years and didnt tell him so LMAO#but im justified bc he has a big mouth and would immediately tell my mum. but im not actually 'out' out to my parents#not in a closeted way like they MUST know im gay bc my brothers def mentioned it around them before + idk. general vibe innit#my mum literally asked me for my pronouns last time i went home..... she mustve had some trans clients#and she 'just thought shed check :)' like okayyyy....#but yeah more that i just dont see the point of doing a whole coming out song and dance i literally dont care enough for that#next time i date someone if im serious abt it ill probs tell them. and if they're surprised im gay thats on them#the main reason i didnt w my ex was bc their family was crazy homophobic so they didnt want them catching wind of it#+ also bc i was living w my family some of that time + i didnt rly wanna find out what my catholic stepdad thinks abt gay ppl lmao#anyway..#.diaries
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On The Mend : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri
summary: with your lack of presence in the paddock, fans are starting to worry, little do they know that you happen to be a little broken back at home
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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 849,183 others
oscarpiastri: another successful week of racing, super proud of the whole team to get the car all the way to P2 this weekend 🏆🏎️
35,058 comments
username1: congratulations oscar, such an awesome drive!!
username2: just a shame that yn wasn’t there to see it once again 🙄
landonorris: so proud of you osc 😭😭😭
username3: surely they can’t still be together, she hasn’t shown her face in weeks…
charles_leclerc: mum is very proud that the two of us were on the podium btw
oscarpiastri: @/charles_leclerc it was all thanks to her pep talk ofc
username4: we’ll still support you osc even if yn won’t
mclaren: the whole team is so proud of you, congratulations oscar!
username5: enjoy the celebrations, I’m sure the team will be there for you at least 🥲
danielricciardo: congrats brother, always nice to see you repping for down under
username6: either something must be seriously wrong or yn really just doesn’t care anymore 😭
maxverstappen1: hell of a drive from you, great to see you back where you belong!
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ynusername posted two private stories
replies
georgerussell63: thanks for reminding everyone I got a penalty yn 😂😂
oscarpiastri: make sure you’re resting, you don’t need to worry about the race sweetheart!!
ynusername: I’ve never missed a race of yours 😩
danielricciardo: why tf are you in hospital and why didn’t you tell me immediately so that I could help!!
nicolepiastri: sending you lots of love sweetheart, sorry we can’t be there to help you 💕
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oscarpiastri: I promise to sneak you in loads of snacks as soon as I’m there 💞
lilymhe: I miss you so much, hope you’re recovering well girlie
landonorris: he’s on the first flight outta here straight back to you 🧡
carmenmmundt: sending you all the healing vibes in the world ❤️
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liked by charles_leclerc, logansargeant and 812,948 others
oscarpiastri: wish me luck on the flight, some weird passenger keeps looking over their shoulder at me 👀
36,950 comments
username7: that poor pilot having to drive these two home lmao
danielricciardo: now you get to experience my struggle before you came along 😭
oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo idk how you ever did it 🤦🏻
username8: at least oscar has lando to celebrate with even though others have abandoned him
alex_albon: why else do you think we offered to take you home on our plane instead?! 😂
username9: i wonder if he's going home to yn being there or not
charles_leclerc: you're incredibly brave volunteering to travel home with him 👏🏻
username10: yn should be there with him, i really hope that they're okay
username11: what would we do without these two in our lives!?
maxverstappen1: we tried to talk you out of it but you didn't listen 🤷🏻
username 12: i love how all the boys are exposing lando as a terrible travel partner hahah
landonorris: stop trying to make it sound like we're not bffs osc 💔
oscarpiastri: @/landonorris that's because we're definitely not best friends
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liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 793,722 others
oscarpiastri: seeing as some people want to make it their business, we thought we’d share why yn hasn’t been around recently. a couple of weeks ago she had a nasty fall at home which resulted in a broken leg. yesterday I finally got to bring her home and begin helping her with recovery…just call me doctor piastri from now on 🧑🏻⚕️💞
57,492 comments
username13: i hope all you losers who thought they broke up are proud of yourselves 🙄
landonorris: you guys know where i am if you need anything!!
georgerussel63: we love you yn, make sure you get plenty of rest ❤️❤️❤️
username14: sending you so much love yn, get plenty of rest
ynusername: apologies in advance for the lack of sleep you're about to get because of me 😂
oscarpiastri: @/ynusername as long as you're healing idc 🥹
username15: can't believe some of you were so stupid to ever think they'd actually break up
alex_albon: glad to see you're back at home where you belong yn
danielricciardo: do i even want to ask how she managed to break her leg??
oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo if I told you I don't think you'd believe me 😂
username16: poor oscar looks exhausted having to drive and take care of yn too
charles_leclerc: pls tell me I get to sign the cast ✍️
ynusername: @/charles_leclerc i'll save a spot just for you
username17: please make sure you take care of yourself yn and ignore what everyone has to say
carmenmmundt: sending you so many healing vibes yn, we miss you at the paddock
username18: during a time when they need privacy and instead they've been hounded by nosey idiots 🤦🏻
maxverstappen1: can't wait to see all the doctor piastri content from you! 😂
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liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 682,058 others
oscarpiastri: the only way to get her out of the house atm is to bribe her with coffee ☕️
63,957 comments
username19: it's adorable how much oscar cares about her 🥰
lilymhe: tell her im omw with coffee as we speak to get her out again!
username20: it's so good to see yn back up on her feet and moving around again 🤩
alex_albon: i actually forgot what yn looked like stood upright for a moment
username21: why does it feel like oscar is one of those partners who is constantly checking on her making sure she's doing her exercises and following every single bit of advice
maxverstappen1: yn's injury is really making you look like the doting boyfriend rn ❤️
danielricciardo: if yn ever gets bored of being entertained on a walk by you, you know where i am!
username22: i bet yn can't wait for race weekend again to get rid of the nagging doctor 😂
landonorris: wish you looked after me as well as you look after yn
oscarpiastri: @/landonorris just a shame that we're not dating then really huh?!
username23: anyone else noticed how many drivers have been round this week to take yn out and make sure she's staying active too
username24: @/username23 i think she might just be the most popular wag on the grid
ynusername: i hate you but i love you at the same time these days 💞
oscarpiastri: @/ynusername if the doctor says you keep moving, it's my job to make you move 😂
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liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and 59,491 others
ynusername: I always knew oscar was secretly boyfriend coded but damn having him look after me is making me fancy him all over again 🔥
12,056 comments
username25: i think i might've just fallen in love with him all over again too 😍
alexandrasaintmleux: make the most of all of the attention you're getting girl
ynusername: @/alexandrasaintmleux oh I am, he doesn't let me lift a finger 😘
username26: soft, doctor boyfriend oscar might just be my new favourite thing
charles_leclerc: if i see many more of these posts from you i might just need a sick bucket 🤮
username27: yn you really are the luckiest having this guy in your life
carlossainz55: i always knew he was a softie deep down 🥺
oscarpiastri: you know i'd do anything as long as it meant getting you better again
ynusername: @/oscarpiastri you're an angel in disguise i swear
username28: i'd break my leg too if it meant oscar piastri was there to look after me 😂
username29: it melts my heart to see how caring oscar has been over the past few weeks
danielricciardo: even i found myself getting a bit excited when i saw these photos yn
username30: everyone needs an oscar piastri in their life
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ynusername posted two stories
replies
landonorris: you're ruining oscar's image with every post you share these days 😂
oscarpiastri: there's nowhere else that I'd rather be
ynusername: we'll pretend you didn't complain that it wasn't race weekend first thing this morning shall we???
carmenmmundt: hope it's good news, lemme know how you get on!!
alex_albon: praying for you and hoping that it's the beginning of the end now 💕
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danielricciardo: thinking of you guys, tell the doctor if he doesn't give you good news i'll break his leg 💞
ynusername: something tells me you might find a few challenges in doing that hahah
georgerussell63: you're so strong yn, just remember we love you
charles_leclerc: the whole family is hoping for good news for you and oscar ❤️
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 70,238 others
ynusername: the moment i've waited for for so long, back in my second home of the garage and back supporting my love during race weekend
14,592 comments
username31: make sure you keep taking care of yourself yn!! 💕
oscarpiastri: cannot begin to tell you how happy i am to have you back with me again ☺️
ynusername: @/oscarpiastri the best feeling in the world being able to cheer you on again
danielricciardo: ik just how much this means to you, welcome back to us yn
username32: it's so good to see you right back where you belong again
username33: it feels like you've never been away, I'm so happy for you guys 🥹
charles_leclerc: on the mend at last, i hope you know just how many people can't wait to welcome you back this weekend
username34: we love our favourite #81 fan 🧡
iamrebeccad: i am hurrying over to that mclaren garage as fast as i possibly can rn ‼️
username35: so happy to see you back on your feet and back with our favourite duo again
username36: this is the content we've been waiting for, it's so good to see you back
landonorris: as much as i hate having to share oscar again, it's a joy to have you back 🙃
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#formula 1#f1 imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula one#formula 1 x you#f1 reaction#formula one imagine#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fluff#formula x reader#formula 1 social media#formula one x reader#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 smau#formula one smau#f1 fluff#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1 x you
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just a taste
18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.
a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)
✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:
eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here.
“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?”
“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking.
“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.”
“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.
“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.
this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.
“now?”
she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.”
eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.”
“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched.
she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room.
he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it.
-
eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message.
“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something.
he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much.
you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave.
two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now.
not if you were sleeping in his bed.
it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it.
“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done.
who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly.
“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process.
“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips.
“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.”
his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze.
'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation.
-
when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie.
eddie usually hated movie nights in the house.
jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre.
leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered.
tonight it’s different, you get to pick.
and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it.
you land on edward scissorhands.
not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble.
in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.
at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath.
he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.
robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way.
“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary.
you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on.
he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you.
unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone.
-
living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive.
it’s torturous.
testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding.
so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.
of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night.
his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know.
though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land.
now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act.
eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core.
good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour.
tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case.
gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him.
reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief.
oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.
“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips.
eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red.
“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears.
your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt.
you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand.
“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?”
eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was.
“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up.
“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?”
there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off.
“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away.
you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek.
eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window.
“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?”
he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started.
“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out.
you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please.
-
at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him.
you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article.
“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,”
he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making.
“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did.
“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across.
if only she knew.
eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.
he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria.
cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now.
everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties.
-
eddie can’t take it anymore.
he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer.
but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure.
the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport.
he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women.
your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand.
“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down.
robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful.
thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose
he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones.
how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?
“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much.
“you want some help with that?”
eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion.
it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs.
“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager.
he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame.
your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?
this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric.
eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.
the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house.
the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin.
when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking.
your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears.
no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was.
“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch.
his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere.
you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house.
eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute.
it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life.
“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.
you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable
“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.
"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.
“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.
“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.
“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.
“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x you#eddie munson stranger things
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100% NTA. Sorry for the novel of a comment that follows, but I felt like it was really, really important that I say this. I really hope you read this, anon, or anyone else struggling with these same feelings
I know lots of others have said this already, but this is a sign that something IS wrong. As someone else pointed out, people who are "fine" don't want bad things to happen to them
I've struggled with feelings like these for a loooooooooong time. It started when I did something really bad to myself, that manifested as a mental illness, because I wanted one. I hated myself for it for 11 years because I genuinely thought I was "faking" it or that the mental illness my issues manifested as wasn't "real." But it WAS real. ALL my struggles were; they always have been
The same is the case for you. If you're feeling anything like how I was feeling, and have felt, you're desperate, you feel like you have no good "reason" to feel as awful as you do, to have days where you can't do anything but lay in bed, or times where you get stuck in these loops of repeating actions over and over. You feel like your struggling with these feelings isn't reasonable, so you just want an explanation. It sucks. It really, really sucks. It's an awful feeling I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy
All it takes to get stuck in something like self-harm, addiction, or an eating disorder— self-destructive behaviour —is that little push. And I'm scared you're close to the edge of falling into that kind of self-destructive behaviour
The thing is, at least in my case, I was given so many warning signs— so many people saying it wasn't worth it, that it was an awful, horrible thing —and I didn't care. It was the thing I wanted the most. The thing I thought I needed. So I ignored every warning. And I'll be completely honest with you, I'm worried you'll have similar feelings. But please don't ignore the warning signs. It is so, so worth it to get help, and to get it before anything like self-destructive behaviours happen
I don't know about you, but I think that, at least one root of my problem, was that I felt like myself and my feelings were often "brushed aside" by others, especially adults and authority figures, in my life as a child. So I felt like my struggles weren't valid without an extreme, concrete explanation of them. So if it's the same for you, I'm so sorry that happened. Your feelings should never have been invalidated or brushed aside. I'm sorry the adults and/or authority figures in your life failed you. Unfortunately, you have to be the one to do the hard work now to validate yourself. It takes a lot of time, practice, and (most likely), therapy. I won't lie and say it's easy; it's some of the hardest work you'll ever have to do. But it's worth it to help yourself and
I know the word "valid" is thrown around a lot these days, so it's lost some of its meaning, but please let the following truly sink in: you are valid. Your feelings are valid. Your struggles are valid. You deserve to be taken seriously
I hope you get the help you need, anon <3
AITA for wanting bad things to happen to me?
That sounds absolutely terrible, let me explain.
First, I need to make it absolutely clear, I am in No Way suicidal nor have I ever self harmed. Just putting that out there.
So for the past two years now, I've been getting these... intrusive thoughts? I'd narrowly avoid getting hit and idly wonder if I'd have made it if I was a few seconds slower. I would cut my food and remember the first time I accidentally sliced a bit of my thumb off while cutting lemon. I'd also have these slumps, these tired periods where I just want to lay in bed and not do anything. Or sometimes I'll do something and end up in a loop, involuntarily repeating the action in a way similar to ocd compulsions or tourettes tics. I didn't think much of it, but it was annoying.
Then, a year ago, I brought this up to a close friend. We were at a sleepover, it was late at night, and I told them about this. And something that had been happening shortly before we met up, something I told them about, was that I had started wishing something bad would happen. I was wishing that I would get depression, or an ED, or ocd, or ptsd or SOMETHING because while I KNOW that they are absolutely terrible and it shouldn't be glorified (trust me, I know, I have done extensive research and have talked to people with these disorders many times), I just wanted a reason, an explanation for me to be feeling this way. And I expressed this, all of it, and you know what I was told?
"Well that's a bit selfish of you, isn't it?"
I get where they were coming from. They'd struggled with depression recently, and I also had been berating myself for the same thing. In what world is wishing you were struggling, disregarding the struggles of people who actually have issues, remotely okay? But at the same time, being able to put a name to stuff, being able to point to things that feel not me and give them a name, an explanation for my thoughts and feelings, would be so freeing. I feel bad about it, but it's not going to stop whatever's going on really, just give me some explanation. But I also feel like it'd be very insensitive
So, AITA for wanting to have a disorder to explain thoughts, feelings, and behavior that doesn't feel like it's actually me?
What are these acronyms?
#ask to tag#not sure if there's universal tw or cw tags for any of these topics :'D#ngl reading through the replies had me bawling like a baby lmao#I'm so glad there's so many people out there that see this and don't immediately respond with disgust or hatred#this shit sucks and no one deserves to go through it#I wish you all the best anon <3
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Grease (the tragedy)
“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”
jeon wonwoo x reader
word count: 5.8k
warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!
synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.
[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe
and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh
and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!
masterlist
[You]: do you think he died on the way [Liv]: hes still not there??? [You]: what do you think????? [Liv]: let me ask Amelia [You]: dont bother [You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5 [Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!! [You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???
Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here.
It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents.
[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number [liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7 [liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay [You]: uh hey [You]: yeah that’s fine
Today 7:20 PM
[You]: im here?
The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.
So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations.
Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway.
The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too.
You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table.
“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”
“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”
He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!
It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway.
“O–oh, I see.”
The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order.
Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink.
“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”
“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”
Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved.
The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time.
“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”
“Her husband.”
“I see.”
Silence.
“How do you know her husband?”
He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either.
“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”
“Workshop?”
He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”
“No, she didn’t.”
It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence.
One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave.
“What kind of cars do you work on?”
“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”
“Have I heard of it?”
“The cars?”
“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”
“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”
You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.
“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”
“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”
“Family business?”
“Uh–sort of.”
“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”
“Is there a problem?”
Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion.
“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?” By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least.
“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”
“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.
“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”
There isn’t much you can do but stare at him.
“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing.
“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving.
Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him.
“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”
Did he…snort?
“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself.
“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever.
“Nothing.”
That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth.
If he was gonna be rude, you could be too.
“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”
Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”
“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”
“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”
Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco.
“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”
“For laughing?”
“And for being obscenely late.”
“And?”
“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”
“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.”
Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”
“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”
The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”
“More like I don’t care to be personable.”
“That can’t be good for business.”
“The cars speak for themselves.”
He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances.
“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after.
“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”
The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”
“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!”
There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck.
Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”
The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks.
“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”
“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”
“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”
Lies, it was entirely her fault.
Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.
“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"
“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”
“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”
“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”
“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”
“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”
Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside.
That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire.
“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”
How fitting.
“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?”
You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again.
Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”
“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact.
“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”
What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little.
You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop.
The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway.
The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators.
Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of.
“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag.
To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.
“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask.
“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?”
No, just a failed love interest.
“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”
“Do you need help with your car?”
“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”
With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside.
By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things.
At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.
“Am I late for something again?”
Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face.
“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.
“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”
“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”
He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.
Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all.
A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage.
“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you.
You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”
“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.”
Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”
“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard.
“So you can fix it?”
“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”
Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”
“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”
It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”
“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.”
“Because that’s gonna cost…?”
“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine.
“But—” That’s it?
“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you.
“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work.
The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him.
Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular.
Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close.
“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”
Wonwoo stares pointedly.
You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”
He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”
“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row.
Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”
“What does it do?”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Touché.”
Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”
Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”
“You’re impossible.”
He smirks, “Touché.”
You questioned if this was a mistake.
Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.
The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course.
But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again.
Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke.
Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t.
Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…
The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos.
“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”
“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”
“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”
He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”
“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.
He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”
You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often.
Goodness, what’s gotten into you.
Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving.
“Shall we go to the office then?”
Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra.
“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”
“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”
It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.
“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed.
Cute.
There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet.
You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”
“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”
“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup.
He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”
You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”
He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side.
As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”
“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”
“I can make an exception or two,” he grins.
“And if you charge me double?”
“Might not charge you at all.”
“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space.
“Might.”
“And what’re the conditions for that?”
He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”
You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”
He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”
“Hm?”
“Can I? Let you know?”
It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying.
“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues.
You hesitate. “I think so too.”
“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–”
“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”
He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”
“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”
“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.”
“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease.
You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name.
Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea.
“Are you doing anything else today?”
“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”
He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”
You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.
This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.
He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly.
Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”
He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”
“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.
“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”
If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?
“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”
You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside.
Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt.
When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay.
“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”
Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly.
That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination.
“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”
He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars.
There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer.
“Was that okay?”
“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”
“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”
You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway.
“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched.
“Fuck, yes you can.”
With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”
You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top.
Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers.
You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs.
Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster.
“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”
He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace.
You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth.
The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees.
You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy.
“There,” he pants. “Almost.”
You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly.
“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”
And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs.
The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support.
“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him.
He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”
You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”
And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you.
And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash.
#svthub#wonwoo smut#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo angst#wonwoo fic#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo imagines#wonu smut#wonu fluff#wonu x reader#wonu scenarios#wonwoo#wonu#seventeen#seventeen smut#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#svt#svt smut#svt angst#svt fluff#svt scenarios#svt imagines#svt x reader#em.writes
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i MISS drawing
#i am still working on that last ask reply which is to say i havent been able to draw for a week bc of wrist pain :(#it sucks!!!!! i got hubris'd bc sleeping without the brace was fine for a night or two#and then nuked again for the mortal sin of working out (?) or whatever#at this point its like. i dont even wanna try im tired of dealing with the pain#but also its not getting better so there is no out-waiting this either i draw and am in pain or im never drawing again#i just hate that seeing pretty art is the worst feeling in the world to me now.... the insp hits but immediately i recoil from the impulse#:((((((#sorry vent h.#like i MISS feeling like shit bc my art was bad that was fine at least i had the capacity to improve or the capacity to draw for myself#not being able to draw anymore or drawing being a constant negotiation with pain is so. i cannot express the grief of it#i though i had TIME i thought after thesis id finally get to do all the studies and draw all the things for oc website#turns out i should have drawn everything i ever wanted to draw before 2022 lmao just put me in a guillotine rn#elia txts#i do be venting!!!!!!!!!! h
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When He's your Rival (w/ Tsukishima, Oikawa, Kuroo, and Atsumu) x Fem! reader
enemies to lovers but someone mistakes rivalry with feelings LMAO
Warning(s): cursing! some unwanted touches by an asshole in Oikawa's part, crying- Y/N's a little crybaby sometimes LOL
Tsukishima Kei
"Take a look and cry, four-eyes."
"Go back to fifth grade, I'm begging."
Smirking at his snarky comment, Tsukishima finds the energy to lazily lift his head off the desk, staring blankly at the red 97 inked on the corner of your paper, complete with a messily scrawled circle and a smiley face.
You always were a teacher's pet.
"Nice." The blonde yawns, going to put his head back down. "I scored a 99 though. Guess having four eyes really helps."
He can't stop the satisfied twitch tickling his lips as he buries his head a little further into his crossed arms, the sound of your groan of annoyance music to his ears as you crumple your test paper in your fist.
"This isn't over, Tsukki. I studied all night for this!"
"Don't call me that." He lifts his head to scowl at you as you haughtily spin on your heel, determination in your steps and a gloomy cloud over your head over the loss as he calls after you. "Not my fault you're obsessed with me."
You do a 360, pouting all the while as Tsukishima eyes you evenly, amusement twinkling momentarily in his eyes as he watches you grow flustered.
"I am not! Don't get it twisted, Tsukki- the only thing I'm obsessed with beating your sorry ass!" You crumple up your test paper further, fuming as you leave it on his desk in a childish manner.
"Why is my ass sorry when you're the one who lost?"
Yamaguchi watches on with a sigh, Tsukishima watching you storm off with a little bit more than amusement in his eyes before turning to his childhood friend.
"You feed into this way too much, Tsukki. Y/N is nothing but sweet, why do you bring out the worst in her?"
The tall blonde hums, his hand supporting his right cheek. "It's because she's just so fun to talk to."
Yamaguchi shivers at the cynical tone his childhood friend had taken on, wondering why this childish rivalry between the two of you had been stretched for as long as it was.
"We've known each other since we were kids, Tsukki. Y/N's parents used to joke about you guys marrying each other because you hated each other so bad."
"I don't hate her." Tsukishima's reply is immediate, moving to shift his headphones back onto his ears. "The brat knows I'd take care of her if it came down to it, so quit you're worrying, Yamaguchi."
Yamaguchi's expression shifts to one of surprise, but Tsukishima's already distracted, eyeing your crumpled up test before dropping into his bag.
Nothing wrong with taking a trophy, right?
A couple weeks later, you're holding your breath as your eyes scan the top 100 scores in the school during late-study hours, the halls nearly barren, willing your name to be above a certain blonde hair middle blocker before visibly wilting.
"Ah, look." You groan, the utterly amused voice you're not wishing to hear at this moment sounding in your ears as Tsukishima smirks down at you, finger prodding at the box marked Tsukishima Kei before pretending like he's looking for your name.
Not one, but two names down from his.
"Looks like someone didn't study-"
Tsukishima cuts himself off at the sight of your eyes filling up with frustrated tears, not expecting the sight before him to make his chest heavy.
You were always so dramatic.
"Tsukki, you win this time." You sniffle, wiping your eyes haughtily as he looks at the eye bags under your eyes, growing annoyed all of a sudden- even more iriate when he can't figure out why.
He knows this, but why is this effecting him so much?
"Oi." His voice is quiet with an agitated edge, putting a hand on your shoulder to lean you up against the wall. "Why are you so obsessed with this? You're so stupid- crying over something as meaningless as beating me."
Your cheeks puff up at his blatant remarks, his chest tingling before you take a deep breath before knocking your forehead against his, taking the blonde boy by surprise as he glares down at you, rubbing his nose.
"What the hell-"
"I just want to be your equal, you always treat me like I'm such childish brat." You tell him, mixed feelings in your throat as Tsukishima takes on a look of bewilderment. "Ever since we were kids-"
"So you just want my attention, is that it?" Tsukishima's smirking now, the pain in his nose unnoticeable as your expression stiffens, a hint of realization in your eyes as the blonde's throat suddenly grows tight.
"What-"
"Little Y/N, do you have feelings for me?"
"You're not that much older-!"
"Don't avoid the question, brat." Tsukishima's even closer now, hand touching the wall by your waist as your eyes dart all over the hallway. "Is this what all this rivalry is about? Why you care so much about proving-"
"And what if I do?" Your voice quivers for a second, Tsukishima's lips shutting tight at your words before frustrated tears grow in your eyes again. As if realizing what you said, your eyes grow wide with embarrassment- shoving him away before taking off down the hall.
The tall blonde stands there for a second, soaking in the last few minutes before touching the back of his neck, the tips of his ears reddening before sighing deeply.
He rolls his eyes before smirking a little, your confused expression flashing in his mind once more as he wonders what will become of your one-sided rivalry.
Fuck a trophy. He wants to see you make that face again.
Oikawa Tooru
"Tooru, you wanna fight me so bad."
"Just because I want to doesn't mean I will, Y/N-chan. You'll probably lose."
Iwaizumi barks out a laugh as your glare evenly matches Oikawa Tooru's, lightning flashing between the two of you as the brunette crosses his arms with a frown. He almost thinks it's fate- the two of you ending up in the same class seated next to each other with Oikawa by the window.
"The fact that you said probably instead of definitely means we both know Y/N would win in a fight."
"Stay out of this, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa doesn't break eye contact with you, growing more irriated at the sweet smile that overtakes your lips.
"Tooru, I'll start telling people your hair isn't natural in color~" You start doodling on your notes nonchalantly, amused at the popular boy's growth in irritation.
"You wouldn't dare." Oikawa pales at the obvious lie, knowing your effect- how your words would send ripples through the school by the end of the day.
That's right, ever since you transferred schools and gained popularity as the most sought-out girl at Aoba Joshai and had made a passing comment (you didn't really think about it) about how you had no idea who Oikawa Tooru was and didn't really care- the school's popular setter has had it out for you.
Iwaizumi had a huge kick out of it though, satisfied seeing his friend being put in place by the one girl he couldn't really have. You grin cheekily, batting your eyelashes innocently as Oikawa meets it with a pouty stare.
"Why do you care so much of what I think of you?"
"I don't."
"Then piss off." You close your eyes with sugar-laced words, causing Iwaizumi to turn around with a shaking back.
"Iwa-chan, stop laughing!" Oikawa whines, turning his attention back to you with a haughty remark to discover you had stood up and skipped off towards the exit of the classroom.
"She's got me. I'm her fan- I see the hype."
"Iwa-chan, you're supposed to be on my side!"
"Y/N didn't know who you were- big whoop." Matsukawa yawns, leaning back in his seat from in front of Iwaizumi. "Not everyone cares about volleyball."
"And she was new." Hanamaki adds, shrugging his shoulders at the look of betrayal his brunette-friend had sent him. "I'm just saying- maybe your anger is misplaced?"
"Oikawa has a crush~"
"Mattsun- I almost threw up, please." Oikawa sighs, spinning around in his seat with a newfound exhaustion. He looks out the window, eyebrow twitching when he sees you bowed deep in apology to some poor student who was obviously amidst confession. His defined chin touches his palm in thought as anger swirls in his stomach.
How he despises you so.
You were so annoyingly pretty. It was ticking him off, how you spoke so nicely to his three provoking friends yet would barely muster up a smile at him unless it was sarcastic. Oikawa observed as you messily brushed your hair back with your hands to focus on your work, growing even more annoyed when he discovered how much you cared about school.
It was all because he didn't like you, that's why he paid so much attention.
..right?
He's sipping from a can of orange juice, having ducked away from his fanclub to turn a corner of the school no one really frequents when he sees you again later that week.
"Y/N- you always act like you're too good for anybody."
The tall brunette stops at the corner, peering around it while remaining out of sight.
"Maybe I just don't like guys who pressure girls into dating them." You don't miss a beat- but Oikawa hears it, the tinge at the edge of your voice.
Fear.
Some nobody who Oikawa doesn't even know the name of clicks his tongue, grabbing your wrist roughly as you stare down at his strong clasp on you.
"Let me go, you fucking loser." You're pissed off now, smiling your signature grin- the one with no real sweetness behind it. You were afraid to have followed this dangerous guy to an empty part of the school- thinking one of your fellow students would never do this sort of thing.
You were so wrong. His grip tightens as you try to fling his hand off in frustration.
"Pretty Y/N-chan. I'll ruin that face of yours and beat that attitude-"
"Someone isn't taking rejection very well."
You blink in wild surprise as your back touches Oikawa's chest abruptly, his strong grip on the student's wrist as he yanks him off. You don't see him, but you don't have to turn around to know that Oikawa was pissed.
"Get your pretty boy toy out of here, slut." You wince at the insult slightly when the guy doesn't even look at Oikawa, still glaring down at you before Oikawa tugs you gently behind him, towering over the absolute nobody who dared to put a hand on you.
"You shitty coward." You look up at Oikawa's broad back and shoulders, anxiety draining out of your system as Oikawa keeps a firm grip on your hand. He squeezes your hand once, and you get the message.
You're okay.
"Getting physical with girls now, are we? Someone doesn't want to have a future." Oikawa mocks, tilting his head to the side menancingly with a smug grin on his face. "You know what pisses me off the most? When people don't acknowledge my existence."
You've never seen this side of him before.
Suddenly, Oikawa side steps, both arms reaching out to keep you behind him as his grin widens. You cover your mouth at the sight of the student having failed to land a punch on the setter's jaw.
"You attacked me, right?" Oikawa hands you his bag, jaw clenching before easily grabbing the guy's collar, the height difference making him pathetically dangle slightly off the floor. You gasp when his eyes take on a darker edge, delivering a hook of his own to the side of his face, not seeming to hold much back as Oikawa momentarily wonders just what was fueling all this anger.
"What's going on here?! Oikawa Tooru, let him go!"
When he drops him to the floor on command, you're looking at him differently.
Maybe you should've cared a bit more about just who Oikawa Tooru was.
You're still staring when he ignores the teacher, your wrist in his hand as he inspects it, asking you something- but you don't hear him, feeling an unknown swirl in your stomach.
And why the hell he was making you feel something you've never felt before.
Kuroo Tetsurou
"Kuroo, get over it."
"Don't roll your pretty eyes at me, kitten."
You huff, not even bothering to look up at the raven-haired captain as you check another tally on your clipboard. Another successful receive for Lev.
"How do you do it?"
"Kuroo, we've been over this-"
"Blah blah blah."
The interruption ticks you off, prompting you to finally look up from your work as Kuroo Tetsurou smirks down at you easily.
"It's not my fault they like me so much."
"They can't like you more than me! I'm the captain!"
"Someone's insecure."
It's Kuroo's turn to grow irritated at your remark, and you smirk successfully as Kenma sighs at the sight of you two from across the court. Yamamoto sweat drops, bouncing a volleyball off the wall as you and Kuroo begin bickering. You were annoyed as the taller captain grinned easily down at you.
"Why does Kuroo-san hate Y/N so much?"
"No idea. She makes me cookies when I listen well during practice!" Lev adds brightly. "If anything, Kuroo's the villain."
"Nah." Kenma doesn't look up from his game, thankful you're keeping his childhood friend occupied so he can't make him practice. "Kuroo doesn't hate her."
The surrounding members still, eyeing the short boy weirdly as the volume of you two bickering rises in the background.
"He definitely bothers her because it's fun." Kenma flicks his joystick, suddenly immersed in the level as it grows more interesting. "I wouldn't be surprised if he likes her."
Kenma's just speaking his mind at this point, but his fellow teammates don't believe him as Kuroo flicks your forehead, breaking off in a run as you chase him out of the gym in irritation.
"Yeah. Sure."
--
"Okay everyone," you begin, fiddling with your papers as the volleyball team sit in a circle with their knees tucked into their chest, hanging on to your every word as you try not to smile at how well-behaved they were. "Nekomata-sensei is out today, and he left instructions-"
"We'll be practicing in 3-on-3's."
You hold back a groan as Kuroo cuts you off, standing up easily as the tension between the two of you rises. He cocks his head to the side like what? with a growing smirk on his handsome features, causing your irritation to grow further. To annoy you on the sidelines of practice was one thing, but to disrupt you in front of the team is another.
"Anyways, like I was saying-"
"Shouldn't the captain know what's best for his team?"
Oh you hated being cut off.
You meet him with an even stare, trying not to let your temper get the best out of you.
"Kuroo-"
"Call me Tetsurou, Y/N-chan."
Kenma sighs when the lead of your mechanical pencil breaks against the clipboard, knowing Kuroo was pushing limits he hadn't before.
"Alright, Tetsurou." Your voice is venomous, shoving the clipboard with their coach's instructions into Kuroo's hands with an aggression you were having trouble controlling. You were so mad you began to see your vision get blurry, suddenly exhausted from the captain's antics and why he wouldn't leave you alone.
"You lead practice then." Kuroo's easy smirk grows into a worried stare at the sight, watching you storm off before he can get another word out.
"Boo, you made our manager cry."
"This is why you'll die alone."
"Y/N for president!"
But Kuroo isn't listening to the obvious slander from his teammates, putting the clipboard down before jogging off after you, Kenma rolling his eyes to unzip his gym bag for his switch.
"He flirts like a little school boy."
The raven-haired third year catches you in the halls, frustrated with yourself as your back touches the shoe lockers behind you. You didn't mean to overreact. It was something about him that made you so-
"I'm sorry, Y/N."
"Don't apologize." You grumble, looking straight on ahead before glancing upwards. Kuroo awkwardly takes a seat next to you, the sound of after-school activities filling the air in your silence.
"Do you hate me or something?"
Kuroo blinks once, guilt filling his chest at the ideas in your head before hanging his head with a heavy sigh. It seems he took his antics a bit too far.
"Y/N, you're just fun to tease." He drops the nickname, and you smile a bit knowing he's serious. "I don't mean to make you upset. The team loves you, and I..."
He trails off, causing you to cock an eyebrow. Kuroo looks away quickly, clearing his throat before looking back at you-
to see you genuinely smiling at him, his chest suddenly tight.
"That's a relief. You're too much sometimes, but I can't say I don't enjoy our conversations. I didn't mean to over-react-" You cut yourself off, suddenly worried as you raise a hand to his forehead. "Wow, you're suddenly flushed. Are you sick, Tetsurou?"
He grows a shade darker when your sweet voice calls his first name, seeming to short-circuit in front of you as question marks seem to appear by your face.
Meanwhile, the team shushes each other as they peer around the corner of the hallway, Yamamoto and Lev's mouth agape as a certain gamer merely shrugs.
"Told you so."
"Nobody likes a know-it-all, Kenma."
Atsumu Miya
"'Samu, tell me I'm better than her."
"I'm not lyin' to ya', twin or not."
Almost immediately, the blonde setter glares at his own flesh and blood, Osamu offering a slight smirk in response at his brother's irritation. Atsumu sinks lower in his seat, pouting as Suna rolls his eyes to the right of him.
"Can't believe I'm spending my precious free time to watch more volleyball."
Atsumu isn't listening to his friend, silently focused at the way you controlled the court, triumphant grin on your face as you score the winning point to take the first set. In fact, you had scored over half the points, the other team's blockers barely standing a chance. He had to come see it. All the buzz around school can't have been for nothing.
Y/N L/N. Volleyball prodigy that seemed to have come out of thin air.
Osamu whistles lowly. "Y/N's kinda like you."
"Don't insult me, 'Samu." But Atsumu knows he doesn't mean it. Suna glances at his friend once, sipping his drink casually as Atsumu gets a glint in his eye, fire seeming to erupt in the back around him.
"Oho, Atsumu's got a rival." Suna isn't too interested, merely observing his surroundings as Osamu coughs back a chuckle.
"Shuddup." Atsumu mumbles, eyes meeting yours as you look up at the stands to see just who was burning holes into your head. He shakes his head with a smirk on his lips when you cockily blow a kiss in his direction.
"Y/N...that's Atsumu Miya, you do know he goes to our school, right?"
"Oh...shit." You back down, suddenly embarrassed as you look away, Atsumu's eyes spinning with amusement and eagerness to one-up you, the cheers of the stadium mocking in his ears.
So low in behold, you try not to let the surprise etch onto your features when Atsumu is pointing a finger at you, having escaped the boy's gym to crash your practice when after-school activities come around.
"You." You blink, utterly confused as your teammates squeal in excitement at his presence. "Yer' practicin' with me, got that?"
Your jaw slackens at the audacity, wondering if he wanted to practice or if he wanted to prove something. Atsumu knew he had the right idea about you when you take a step forward, tilting your head in challenge.
"Think you can keep up?"
--
"Oi, stop harassing Y/N at the girl's gym and practice with your team." Aran puts emphasis on his words as Osamu snickers from behind him, watching his twin get scolded as Kita sighs.
"She is very good at what she does." The captain nods. "But that doesn't mean our paths have to cross with the girls'- in fact, they never should."
"Then let her play here." Atsumu doesn't care if he doesn't make any sense. "Y/N runs circles around her team anyways- hell, she's pullin' the whole team on her back."
The Inarizaki team resist the urge to roll their eyes at their setter's blatant slander. Osamu is amused, tying up the net as he attempts to tame his twin.
"She runs circles 'round you, that's for sure."
Suna stifles a laugh as Atsumu feels it again. Competition. He loved the feeling of it- the feeling that things were finally getting interesting.
He's walking towards the girl's gym again to drag you out to play with his team so he can play against you, when something he hears makes him pause in his step.
"I just don't understand what Atsumu-kun sees in her!" It's a high pitched whine, one that causes his eyes to darken.
"Right? It's not like Y/N is pretty or anything like that."
"She's good at volleyball- so what? It's not like she'd be anywhere without her team."
A tap on his shoulder is what breaks him out of his eavesdropping, turning slowly to see you standing there with a sad smile, grip tightening on the bag filled with drinks- you had went to get drinks for the entire team, while they boldly slandered you behind your back.
Your voice is hushed, but tinged with a bit of hurt as you shrug.
"It's just the way of the game."
"Like hell it is." Atsumu growls, swinging open the door as you gape at the action. Before you can react, Atsumu's laugh is resounding through the gym as you peek out from behind his back.
"Oh my god, aren't you three bench warmers? Yer' the ones talkin' shit?" He can't hold back his laughter as you audibly sigh from behind him.
"A-Atsumu-"
"Oi." The blonde isn't laughing anymore, eyes on the edge of menacing as he cracks his neck, eyes darkening. "Squeal all you want, just hope and pray I'm not there to listen to it."
"Y/N-senpai, we're so sorry!" You blanch at the three girls who were now bowing profusely in front of you before assuring them it's fine, tugging on Atsumu's arm with an eyeroll.
"We need to talk."
"You know, you are pretty." Atsumu grumbles as you tug him along. "I don't know why they-"
"I can fight my own battles, 'Tsumu." You huff at the boy in front of you, considering him both your rival and your friend. "It's just misplaced jealousy- don't make it worse between my teammates and I. I would've said something- come on, do you know me?"
Atsumu stands there for a second, soaking in your words as a slow realization comes onto him. This whole time, he's been treating you like a rival, a thing, something to propel him further and sharpen his skills-
not realizing he had slowly grown to care about you a little more than a rival maybe should. He had moved without thinking, the thoughtless words not meant for his ears pissing him off way more than it would've any other person.
But this was you. You always walked along your bicycle when he insisted on walking you home, making him listen to your music as you trained before eventually making playlists for him when he told you how much he liked it. You trained with him for as long as he wanted, even going to the public gym together when you trained with your respective teams.
Atsumu is still staring at you, seeming to process something as you laugh a little at his expression as the sun begins to set behind your figure.
"I'm not mad at you. Come on, I'll bring you back."
"Quit treatin' me like a stray." Atsumu mumbles, but he's unfocused, burning holes into the back of your head as you tug him along, smiling back at him.
"You have a bad habit of staring at me, you know?"
Oh shit.
"Well, you did call me pretty and all." You tease, winking once as you wave at his team in the distance, waiting by the practice gym to continue the practice as his prolonged absence ended up affecting the entire team.
Atsumu ducks his head as his twin smirks at the sight, Atsumu's face on fire as his eyes lock on to where you're hand is touching his arm.
He's so fucked.
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu anime#haikyuu kuroo#hq scenarios#hq fanfic#hq fluff#hq#haikyuu tsukishima#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima fluff#tsukishima kei#haikyuu tsukki#haikyuu oikawa#oikawa torū#oikawa toru#oikawa#oikawa x reader#oikawa tooru#hq oikawa#oikawa fluff#haikyuu kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsurou#hq kuroo#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo x reader#kuroo testuro#haikyuu atsumu
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everything.
ln x fem!reader
in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more
hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!
songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst
6.4k words
“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.
your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.
“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.
you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.
friends. that’s what you were.
you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.
his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.
you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.
eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.
and just like that, a connection was born.
you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.
and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.
“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.
lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.
“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.
friends.
that’s what you were.
-
you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.
on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.
he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.
the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.
you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.
“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.
you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.
“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.
you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.
“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.
“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”
“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.
-
the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.
a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.
you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.
“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.
“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.
“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.
you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.
you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.
“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.
you coughed awkwardly.
“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.
“i am now, could fall asleep here.”
“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.
“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.
“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.
“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.
“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.
“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.
“then stay.”
you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.
what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.
lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.
“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.
“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.
“you’ve never…”
“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”
“like what?”
“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.
“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”
“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.
you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.
“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”
you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.
“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.
he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.
“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”
“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?
“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”
“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.
“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.
you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.
“you needed me.”
“exactly. i needed you. you.”
he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.
“lando-“
“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“
“lando!”
“what?”
“kiss me.”
and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.
you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.
he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.
“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.
you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.
lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.
he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.
“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.
“no.”
“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.
“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.
“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.
“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.
“says who?”
“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”
“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”
“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.
“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”
“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”
“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”
“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”
“i want you, lando.”
and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.
“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.
“please. yes.” you said shakily.
he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.
“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.
“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.
his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.
lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.
“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.
“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.
and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.
“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.
“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.
you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.
“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”
“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.
lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.
“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.
lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.
“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.
his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.
everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.
“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.
one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.
when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.
“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.
you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.
“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.
you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.
“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.
“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.
you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.
“are you ready for me?” he whispered.
“yes.”
the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.
“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.
“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”
“we gotta go easy.”
“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.
“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.
lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.
“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”
you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.
“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.
lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.
“can you look at me?”
your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.
“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.
“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”
he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.
“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.
his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.
“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.
“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.
‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.
-
you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.
lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.
“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.
“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”
baby.
you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.
“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.
“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.
“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.
lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.
“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”
you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.
“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.
“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.
your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.
-
the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.
you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.
you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.
the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.
your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.
see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.
-
the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.
you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.
“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.
“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”
“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.
“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.
“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.
you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.
you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.
“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.
your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.
eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.
lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.
“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?
eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.
he was looking for you.
lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.
the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.
“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.
nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.
“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.
tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.
then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.
-
hehe the end
-
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