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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 1 year ago

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change my mind - ln4

summary: inspired by 1D's song of the same title - are we friends or are we more?

warnings: f!reader, hints at anxiety and insomnia, that vegas crash, angst, miscommunication (it gets solved dw), swearing, maybe a little bit of awkwardness, fluff. also feel like it drops off towards the end so i might have to come back and edit it at some point

word count: 9.7k

Since the crash it felt as though you’d been holding your breath. Right from when the camera on the straight seemed to jolt from an unexpected impact; on the way to the medical centre; in the car to the hospital. In fact, it only felt like you’d released that breath when Lando had given you the key to his hotel room and you’d shut it behind you.

Then, and only then, it felt like you could breathe.

Your head thudded against the door, the view of The Strip visible even from where you were stood – the neon lights were difficult to miss in the night, even more so when the entire room was still shrouded in darkness. You inhaled through your nose, ensuring to fill your lungs with some much needed air, before breathing it out through your mouth.

Your heart was still racing, something squeezing in your chest, and the exhaustion seemed to blanket you in that very moment, your brain constantly replaying the sounds and the mangled sight of his car. It seemed intent, however, on showing you flickers of his face as he’d climbed out of the Medical Car, trying not to wince at the ache in his bones as his Dad pressed him into a hug or as any part of him made contact with the hospital bed.

In all honesty, you didn’t think you’d ever been so anxious before. Those paralysing seconds where the only thing heard on the radio was static just seemed to have occurred so long ago, but that one moment seemed to cement the dread poured into your chest from then on.

Until now, until he’d given you the key to his room, until your eyes seemed to find all the McLaren paraphernalia and kit thrown carelessly over the back of chairs, on hooks, folded neatly inside a suitcase. Then all of the tension you’d harboured, not wanting to overstep or interrupt the medical exams just to ask him if he was okay, to hold his hand – you weren’t even sure if the latter was for his sake or yours.

You sighed, pushing yourself off the door and flicking on the lights. The mess was even worse in the light, and it wasn’t just limited to McLaren merch – there were undies and socks (it was unclear if they were clean, and you weren’t about to figure that out) scattered about, random pairings of t-shirts and joggers near the open suitcase, but not in it.

You rolled your eyes, putting your bag on the desk, and reaching for the TV remote to switch on the F1 TV channel as background noise. You didn’t really know why he’d given you his key, but you supposed it could have had something to do with the look on your face, or how your hands had been a little shaky, or how you’d barely spoken a word to him – not for lack of him trying or anything: Lando had actively tried to ask you questions, but with all the medical staff and McLaren members surrounding him, that task had been a little difficult.

And the first thing that had sprung to mind when you’d stepped into the lift up to his room was to run him a bath because after that rather bruising session, it was probably the best soother, but now that you’d been faced with this absolute calamity (you’d seen teenage boys’ rooms tidier than this), you weren’t entirely sure how you could not at least help him pack – to an extent.

Clearing the space off the floors and making sure he slept in a bed not made out of his own clothes was a start.

You shrugged off your jacket and hung it on the back of the door before stepping over some clothes and opening the bathroom door. You’d prepared to be met with more remnants of a burgled wardrobe, but contrary to the living space, there was nothing in the bathroom except a Spider-Man wash bag – potions and lotions neatly stacked inside.

There were some bottles in the corner shelf in the tub, the hotel logo branded on the front, and after running the tap until the water started to get warmer, you put in the plug and poured in some foam before returning back to the living space.

Your eyes immediately seemed to zip to the TV above the desk, Ted Kravitz wandering down the paddock talking to someone holding a framed photo of…Valterri’s bum. You blinked, automatically moving to the kettle and flicking the switch on.

Coffee was a must for you to stay awake longer.

And it was then that you started to pick up some clothing off his floor, collating the articles on top of his bed and you’d made it through three quarters of the entire pile when the buzzer for the lock on the door went off.

It was Lando. Decked in a jacket definitely not his own, with the way it seemed to dwarf him: the sleeves had been haphazardly pushed up his forearms, probably to make use of his hands, and the body of the jacket hung past his hips.

When he turned to face the room after locking the door behind him, his eyes seemed to stick first on the empty floor before trailing to you, something soft. He had bags under his eyes, and you could tell he’d been wearing headphones in the meeting because his hair had flattened slightly in the middle.

You didn’t move from where you’d sat, but from the unreadable expression on his face and the way he seemed to hesitate, it had you questioning whether he’d intended for you to still be in his room when he came back – but then he wouldn’t have given you the key, surely?

His lips twitched, and that second-guessing seemed to vanish completely at his lame attempt to smile for you – even though it was clearly forced with the entire whirlwind of the entire race, but there was a hint of authenticity because of the softness in his eyes, and without even meaning to, you felt a smile begin to creep on your own face.

At that, he seemed to gain movement in his legs, and made his way to the desk, head snapping up to the TV for a brief second, before shedding the jacket and putting his key down.

It was his sluggish movements that seemed to have that knot of anxiety punching its way through your stomach once more (it had dwindled somewhat when he’d walked through the door), and you inhaled somewhat sharply, “Are you okay?”

It was the first word you’d spoken out loud, and the roughness of your voice seemed to shock both of you, because you blinked, and he spun on his heel, eyebrows raising. You felt yourself wince, and you swallowed out of instinct–

“Just a bit achy–Can you stand up a second, I just–” He sighed, cutting himself off and stepping forwards.

You furrowed your brows, placing the shirt in your hands on the bed, and doing as he said, and it was barely a second when–

Oh.

He’d almost instantly tugged you into him, his arms settling across your shoulders, his chin tucked against your temple. He was warm and soft, even despite the hard ridges you knew existed under his fireproof shirt. Something felt off, though, and it was with a hurried hum that you realised you hadn’t reciprocated it.

It was a bit of a shock, being hugged by Lando so tightly, so close. Even more so because neither of you had ever really touched before; there’d been the odd shoulder brush when you’d been standing next to each other, the odd purposeful hand touch when one of you had slapped the other’s out of the way – but it had never been this: his chin touching your temple and his hands strong across your back and shoulders, pulling you as close to him as he could manage.

And then you seemed to regain sense in your arms because you automatically seemed to reach one arm across his back and the other slung across his waist, head tilting a little upwards to somewhat nestle itself into the crook of his neck.

If you were being honest, hugs weren’t usually your kind of thing, but you could tolerate (a tad of an understatement) it from Lando, even in his post-three-lap-stint and slight stench of sweat.

You stayed like that for a while, the knot in your chest easing gradually now you’d got your hands on him, and by the time he spoke up, disrupting the peace that you’d managed to find, you felt like you had to blink yourself awake, “Feel better now. I’m sorry I ruined your first race.” He mumbled, stomach tensing as he spoke.

You took a moment, “You didn’t ruin it–”

“I did.”

You pulled yourself away from him, but almost like he’d practised it, his hands clasped onto yours, preventing you from moving too far away, and he brought them up to around shoulder height between you both, his fingers twiddling with yours to distract himself, “Well, then, I forgive you.” You shrugged.

His hands were slightly rough to touch, and a little colder than yours, and you tried not to let the absentminded way he was playing with your hands cloud your brain because it was distracting, especially with the way his thumb seemed intent on stroking repetitive patterns across the back of your hand. Not to mention the way his eyes seemed to flit between your mouth and your eyes, as though he wanted to watch you speak and commit it to his memory, as you spoke.

It sent your blood thrumming a little.

He nodded slowly, as though he was digesting your words, but he took too long to say something else so you said the other thing that had been on the tip of your tongue, “I’d have lost interest in it anyway, ‘cos you weren’t driving.”

He smirked at that, “No you wouldn’t have.”

He was right – to an extent. The only positive about the Vegas track was that the drivers were racing in the Championship and sport you’d been following closely for years. But other than the investment in the championship, that was about where your interest in that specific race ended – with Lando’s crash.

“Well, I’d have rather gone with you than sit in your garage without you on-site.” You admitted, honesty dripping from every word, “Especially because I probably wouldn’t have known if you were okay if I stayed.”

He swallowed, your eyes unconsciously watching his throat bob, “How come?”

You pulled your joined hands down, shrugging and avoiding eye contact in order to actually gain the courage to say what had immediately come to mind.

Why was it so difficult for you to actually say what you felt? God forbid you actually want to let him know what he meant.

“You’re important and I care about you.” You rushed out, chewing the inside of your cheek nervously.

When he didn’t say anything you pulled your hands out of his and were about to change the entire conversation back to the bath you’d run him when his eyes crinkled out of the corner of your eyes. He had one of those cheeky smiles on his face, like he was aware he probably shouldn’t have been smiling like that at that moment in time, but thinking that only seemed to make him worse. And when you fully turned to look at him again, you were struck with the thought that you’d never known anyone to smile with their entire being like Lando Norris seemed to do unfailingly and everyday.

His happiness was just so infectious that it was part of the reason you liked him so much – but it also made you want to…protect it, you guessed. And when he stopped smiling earlier, after you’d been told to meet him in the medical centre, the world seemed to shake, because he was very rarely ever smiling.

He didn’t stop smiling, even when you looked straight at him, not impressed with his silence in the slightest and huffing to let him know.

“What?” You asked, one eyebrow raised and slightly self-conscious of what you were doing and wearing and what you probably looked like after the day you’d had.

He shrugged, shaking his head, smile never drooping one bit, “You care about me.”

It wasn’t a question, more so a statement of shock – repetition to drill it into his head.

You nodded, swallowing, slightly embarrassed at having to say it again, “Yeah.”

He nodded this time, pushing himself onto his tiptoes for a second, “I care about you too. You’re important to me.”

You won’t deny that your heart did a little skip at his words, or that your cheeks threatened to blossom with heat, or that hearing him say those words to you didn’t send your pulse spiralling a little out of control.

It was an unfamiliar feeling, being this vulnerable to someone not related to you. It was weird, but because of who it was and because of the circumstances, it felt oddly right.

“That’s nice.” You muttered, crossing your arms and avoiding looking at him.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself. It wasn’t as though he’d confessed his undying love for you or anything, but it was nice to hear. You knew where you stood with him.

“It is.” He agreed.

There was a beat of silence, and you took the liberty of changing the subject before it could get too awkward too quickly, “I ran you a hot bath, by the way. It felt like the right thing to do after….”

“Thank you.” His tone was a little sombre, but still every bit sincere. A cloud seemed to hang over the both of you for a second, “Sorry I didn’t get to talk to you when everything went–”

“You don’t have to keep apologising.” You breathed, sitting back down on the edge of the bed and resuming some folding to give yourself something to do.

“But I do–”

“Shut the fuck up.” You laughed a little, immediately dropping your expression to correct yourself, “With respect.”

Lando smiled a little at that, “If you insist, but–” You groaned, rolling your eyes, “I just want to check in and make sure I didn’t scare you, y’know, would you still come to another race?”

You blinked, “Course I would.”

There wasn’t really a doubt about it. The scare of the day had worn off in the span of your conversation, it was just that period of not knowing, and the fact that a TV screen didn’t do the cars justice in the speed. They went so much faster than you initially expected.

“Good.” Then, “Are you okay, though?”

“Yeah, it was just a lot, that’s all. Like, the impact, the broken car, then you were talking about everything that hurt but somehow you weren’t injured? I don’t know.” You sighed in resignation, “Do you ever get scared in the car?”

He seemed to think about it for a moment, “The day I get scared is the day I stop driving. Fear in the car makes you crazy.”

“What about when you lose control and you know you’re gonna crash out?”

You watched him closely as his throat bobbed and he slowly stepped over to the bathroom doorframe, leaning against it to look at you thoughtfully, “There’s definitely a moment where my heart sort of skips a beat, kind of like when you miss a step on the stairs, but the adrenalin doesn’t really let me get scared at that moment. It’s scary when I watch it back and realise if I’d have been a metre or so closer I might not be here. But I don’t like thinking about it if it doesn’t happen.”

You paused the folding, “When you said your heart does that skip, can you think or is your mind just blank?”

“Blank. It happens so fast. I know I have to move my hands, though, but I think that’s partly just instinct driven into us from when we were kids. I don’t really have to think about that, but–” He pulled a face, running a hand over his chest and huffing a laugh, “If it’s fast I’m thinking ‘fuck, this is gonna hurt’.”

That made you laugh.

Then he looked over his shoulder and you stood up, taking the hint.

“Wai–What’re you doing?” He stood up straight, watching as you made your way over to the desk to pick up your bag.

You pulled a face, pointing to the door, “I’m gonna go, and you’re gonna have a bath.”

“No.” He shook his head defiantly, walking over to you with a frown on his face.

You blinked, “Yes.”

“No.”

“I didn’t realise that when bathtime was mentioned that you’d stomp your foot and pout at me.” You smothered a smile behind your hand, eyes sparkling with amusement as Lando went to defend himself, only to realise that he had in fact reverted to pouting (as far as an adult man could when sulking).

“No.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I thought you might stay over tonight?”

You froze. Then promptly unfroze, “Why?”

“For a sleepover, I don’t know.” He shrugged.

“I don’t think—” You halted, taking in the way his face seemed to fall slightly, “Do you want me to stay?”

You didn’t not want to. You’d admit that much to yourself. The idea of sharing a bed with someone you trusted platonically and had a crush on was about as appealing as the guaranteed night of uninterrupted sleep (that didn’t run the risk of being crushed, someone breathing heavily in your ear, or someone talking in their sleep).

The corner of his mouth twitched as he tilted his head, “I’d like for you to stay, but I want you to say you want to stay because you want to, not just because I want you to and you feel obligated to stay.”

You took another step forward, about to say yes, before he interrupted again.

“Um–” His voice was slightly high in pitch, a sure sign that he’d begun to panic slightly, but before you let him succumb to (clear) disappointment (it did wonders for your ego) and potentially embarrass himself, you cut over him.

“I’m gonna go get my PJ’s–” he grinned, “and then I’ll come back here–” began taking off the legs of his racing suit, “for a sleepover, or whatever, sound good?”

“Sounds incredible, darling.” He winked, throwing you a charming smirk that had you standing in the doorway (for longer than what was probably deemed appropriate to gather yourself), and he turned into the bathroom, disappearing from sight.

***

Walking back into Lando’s room with wet hair, a clean face, the PJ’s you’d packed (not expecting a sleepover), your current book, and a hotel robe, all felt very intimate. It might have had something to do with the fact that you knew he’d also be freshly washed with wet hair and wearing his PJ’s and in bed — waiting for you.

And when you rounded the corner after buzzing yourself in, Lando was sitting against the headboard, one arm slung over the top of his head and his other hand clutching his phone. He must have been anticipating your arrival if the way he threw his phone further down the covers was any indication, and the way he smiled at you, dimples on show and everything, had you turning to avoid looking at him and hanging the robe over the back of the bathroom door.

The boy is too cute.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He grinned, unconsciously rubbing a palm down his arm and still maintaining a mischievous smile.

“It’s almost like we planned it.” You threw over your shoulder before climbing onto the bed.

He breathed a laugh, “Almost. Cute PJ’s, by the way.” He trailed his eyes meaningfully down your figure as you threw the duvet over yourself, getting comfy.

You’d not packed sexy PJ’s by any means. In fact, you hardly owned a proper pair of pyjamas, and rather just threw on a random t-shirt with whatever bottoms were comfiest and warmest, hence the fact you’d packed a pair of faux-boxer shorts and were wearing a Quadrant Bleach tee that Ria had given you a while ago.

“Rumour has it you couldn’t decide what merch to give me so Ria took it into her own hands.” You gestured to your shirt, smiling rather pointedly in his direction. He squirmed a little, and it was then, as he curled in on himself slightly, that the duvet fell around his torso from where it had been pulled right up to his chin to keep a draught out.

He was fucking shirtless. And when that seemed to register in your head and through your eyes, you were squirming. His pecs, bronze skin and moles were on view and you suddenly had no clue how to act.

Luckily for you, Lando seemed to have the same problem for whatever reason.

“Yeah. I had one of pretty much everything lined up for you, but it wouldn’t have been ‘financially viable’ apparently.”

Oh. You felt your brows shoot up in pleasant surprise.

“I didn’t know that.”

“That was the point.” Lando said, rather self-deprecating, “It looks good on you, though.”

A ‘thank you’ was on the tip of your tongue, but before it could slip out, your brain seemed to take on another direction, one much bolder than what was characteristic of you, “I don’t know, I think LN4 stuff’d look nicer.”

It shocked him as much as it shocked you — that much you could tell by the way that his eyebrows seemed to disappear under the damp curls that had hung across his forehead from where he’d clearly initially combed them backwards. His mouth seemed to drop a little, and his cheeks reddened.

But you barely had time to school your own face into one of confidence to fully own what you just said before he was spurting words out himself.

“Wanna test that theory?”

And he was climbing out of bed before you could even utter a word of protest.

You’d never been so thankful that he didn’t have eyes at the back of his head because when he took a step away from the bed, clad in nothing but black boxer briefs that clung almost maddeningly to his thighs, you practically had a heart attack. It was hard to rip your eyes away, if you were being honest.

But the very second he turned back to face you, throwing a long-sleeved tee in your direction, you somehow managed to look at him without even a smidge of blush on your face or without wearing an expression that assembled one of sheer awe.

Then you blinked and the t-shirt was hitting you in the face. It was a black 100 Race one.

A new one.

And because it hit you in the face the first thing you noticed was the smell. Now, Lando Norris was not a smelly person, at all. In fact, that t-shirt smelled so unfairly divine that you wanted to eat it. Melt it into a smoothie and drink it. In a normal way.

You had it in your hands and were looking pointedly at Lando for about seven seconds until he got the hint to turn around and close his eyes.

In return for his previous goodwill, you threw the Quadrant shirt at his back and climbed out of bed to assess it in the mirror. It was a slightly smaller fit than the other t-shirt, so it didn’t hang past your hips, or over your hands like you’d expected.

Oddly enough, it was almost a perfect fit.

Lando walked into the background of the mirror, catching your eye as he nodded appreciatively.

“Better than Bleach?” You asked, pushing the sleeves up to your elbow before climbing back under the covers.

His answer was him folding the Bleach t-shirt neatly and placing it on the desk.

“Way better.”

There wasn’t anything said for a while after that. Lando got back under the covers, snuggling down into his pillow and browsing through his phone, while you opened your book and kept your bedside light on to read for a while.

Until Lando seemingly couldn’t take the silence and turned his phone off, rolling towards the middle of the bed on his front and looking up at you.

He was content on letting you read for a while, eyes fluttering shut every now and again as though he was trying to fight sleep, when he muttered something under his breath.

“Sorry?” You bent your head, finishing reading the sentence before turning to see him blinking slowly, lashes kissing his cheeks as he rested his face against his elbow.

“Do you read every night?” He repeated, not in the least bit offended you weren’t paying him attention.

You hummed, nodding, slouching further into the mattress.

“How come?” He asked, fingers stretching to gently twiddle a small section of your hair before dropping it.

“I have trouble sleeping sometimes, and reading helps.”

“How?”

You shrugged, “It gets my brain to shut up.”

“Does anything else help?” He mumbled, eyebrow twitching.

You wanted to say yes. That some other things could help, but for one, you didn’t have the results to back up that claim, and two, you weren’t about to suggest trying it to Lando.

“I don’t think so.”

Lando hummed and didn’t say anything else, giving you the opportunity to switch off your bedside lamp, shrouding the whole room in darkness. Despite the coolness of the Vegas nights, the heat of another body under a duvet was enough to send your skin tingling with goosebumps and bury yourself deeper under the covers.

A gentle tugging on your hair once you’d settled was what had your eyes opening.

You hadn’t really been trying to sleep, per se, but Lando hadn’t so much as moved a muscle since you’d switched off the light, and his silence had you assuming he’d been trying to sleep, at least until his fingers had delicately begun twisting your damp hair.

If you hadn’t found it so shocking, it would have been soothing.

It took a while for your eyes to adjust, but once they did, all you could make out was the faint outline of Lando’s head and the gleam of his eyes from the light from The Strip.

Your eyes immediately scrunched shut, unable to tell if he thought you were asleep.

Then—“pretty” he breathed, your heart stuttering wildly in your chest.

He thought you were sleeping.

And he stopped twirling your hair, nestling his cheek into the pillow.

***

You woke up early and with Lando’s arm slung lazily across your waist, one of his legs stuck across yours. You froze momentarily, not having any recollection of exactly when you’d both ended up with him half draped over you, but considering you couldn’t remember much after hearing his whisper, you assumed you must have just gone right to sleep.

Which meant this happened in the night.

You tilted your head fractionally, eyes slipping over to where Lando was now on his stomach, cheek squished right into the pillow and a crease between his brows.

And then that short moment was interrupted by something uncomfortably occurring in your chest.

Your free hand (the other was sandwiched between your hip and Lando’s, nicely toasty of you did say so yourself) blindly reached for your bedside table, scrabbling at an uncomfortable angle until you found your phone. It took a while to manage to slide it across the wood for you to pick it up, and you groaned at the time displayed on the screen.

08:31.

You didn’t need to leave for the airport for another twelve hours, and had already mostly packed in your room. The only issue apart from your current predicament was the rumbling of your stomach, prompting some encouragement to get out of bed.

Which you absolutely did not want to do.

It was warm and you were being cuddled by a sleepy Lando, you weren’t about to risk waking him up. Even though it was your first race, you knew how exhausted he usually was the day after.

So you opted for scrolling on your phone, not before removing your hand from between you both and instead using it to hold the forearm he’d thrown over your waist.

The hotel corridors started to get a little noisier, doors shutting and opening, footsteps thumping, at around half nine/ten o’clock.

It must have been the neighbouring slam of the door that had Lando jolting awake — jumping as though he’d been thrown down the stairs in a dream. You stifled a laugh, trying not to smile at his rapid blinking, until his eyes settled on you, brows accusatory when he realised you were on the brink of laughing at him.

He groaned, slamming his face back onto the pillow and yawning, his arm briefly tensing as he stretched.

“How long have you been awake?” He mumbled, tilting his head so as to not muffle his words against the pillow.

“About an hour.”

He frowned, removing his arm from your hold and flipping himself onto his back, yawning, “How come you didn’t wake me up?”

You blinked, “Because it was half eight and you were asleep.”

He nodded, scratching the back of his head, “You hungry?”

“Yeah. You want to get breakfast downstairs, or–”

“Room service is good with me.”

Lando turned to hide his smile as he reached for the phone. Selfishly he wanted to stay in bed longer – the outside world was chilly – and there was the added bonus that you were there. Obviously he’d want more time with just the two of you, because outside this room, you guys barely got time for a conversation without being interrupted.

That was excluding the scheduled takeaways you both had every time he was back in town (it had started out as a joke because you were both so busy and no one seemed to be able to decide on specific dates, so you’d taken it into your own hands and…here you were), and he suspected that was when the more serious feelings started.

So, no, he’d rather not go downstairs where other people would interrupt and he’d barely get to talk to you.

“D’you know what you–What’re you doing?” He furrowed his brows,, about to hand you the menu when he stopped short of everything and watched you wander over to the front of the room.

Out of bed. Wearing his shirt.

Looking fucking incredible.

And he was thinking he could probably get used to this.

But his brain was going haywire because he didn’t want you to leave.

You said nothing, which did virtually nothing to ease his sense of panic, until you held up the TV remote, running a tired hand through your hair before tiptoeing back to the bed and sliding back under the covers like you belonged there.

“No.” You hummed, taking the menu from him and simultaneously flicking through the TV guide for something to watch.

“Did you sleep okay last night?” He found himself asking, noting the still-sleepy look about you – but not necessarily the bad kind of sleepy. You looked well-rested with rosy cheeks and bright eyes.

Pretty.

“Yeah. It was cosy.” You flashed him a warm smile, eye contact brief before going back to the menu, “What about you?”

“I’ll probably just have pancakes–”

“No,” you breathed a laugh, “Did you sleep well?”

Oh. He could feel his cheeks redden at the mistake, and nodded. In truth, he didn’t think he’d ever slept so well, even despite being a small bundle of nerves from the mere knowledge that you’d actually changed your mind and said yes to a sleepover, and the fact that you were less than three feet away. That was ignoring when he’d woken up to find out you’d been awake for so long and not wanted to wake him up or move him from where he’d (rather sheepishly) managed to hug you in his sleep.

“Cosy.” Was all he said, taking the menu back from you, “What’ll it be for you?”

“Pancakes, too, please.” You grinned at him, turning back to the TV.

He nodded, numbly reaching for the phone on his bedside table and rattling off the order, making sure to add in a glasses of milk and orange juice to accompany it.

When he’d finished and turned back to the TV, to you, there was a question written on your face as you pointed to the TV.

The Hangover.

“When in Vegas, right?” You asked, raising a brow and awaiting his answer.

He’d seen that movie a million times, had even watched it on Thursday (he’d never tell you that), but there was something about the hope and excitement written on your face that had him nodding along, not wanting to disappoint you this early in the morning.

God, he felt so bad when he crashed yesterday.

Not only had he ruined the race experience for you, but he’d worried you. You hadn’t even needed to say anything after the whole debacle (he hadn’t actually given you a real answer when you’d asked him why he wanted you to come with him to the hospital and whatever) for him to read it on your face.

He’d had every intention of whispering reassurances and holding your hand or doing something to have you closer than the edges of a constant small crowd, but he’d been strapped down and people had been talking over each other, and he just hadn’t had the chance.

Until the car ride back to the paddock. Sure, Jon was sitting next to him, but he’d kindly and rather respectfully chosen to ring Zak and give him an update, and then Lando took that brief moment of opportunity to hold your hand. He didn’t say anything, but almost as soon as his hand had touched yours he felt better – lighter. And he noticed that the weight on your shoulders and the crease between your brow lessened.

He sighed wistfully, tuning back into the film, but it was barely five minutes later when there was a knock on the door.

Room service.

He stopped you from moving, taking it upon himself to answer the door (he couldn’t tell if he was imagining it or not, but he swore he could feel your eyes on him as he walked past the end of the bed).

He cracked the door open, eyes on the floor where he expected the tray to be, only to look down and see a pair of trainers that most definitely belonged to Max.

His eyes shot up, and he hid himself behind the door, careful of you back around the corner, but wanting to shield himself from any passerbyers in the corridor – a photo of him answering the door in nothing but his undies would be pretty embarrassing – and glared at his friend, confusion clearly evident on his face.

Max was grinning like a madman, trying and failing to sneak a look behind Lando, “So?” He whispered, and Lando felt himself already getting irritated at the clear insinuation of that one singular word.

“No.” He answered, closing his eyes briefly and resting his temple against the door.

Max was quiet, “No.” He repeated, an element of disbelief etched on his face.

“No.” Lando groaned quietly, “Is that all?”

“No.” Max hissed, “Why not?”

Lando felt himself shrug, “Didn’t come up.”

Max blinked, rather frustrated, “You were supposed to make it come up.”

“Well I didn’t.”

“Clearly.” Max folded his arms across his chest and Lando rolled his eyes, “How come you’re only wearing your boxers?”

Lando looked down, brows furrowing, “What’s wrong with boxers?”

“The lack of other clothes? You always wear PJ’s.” Lando watched as the penny dropped in Max’s head, his eyes widening and his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. Then he frowned, “Show off.”

Lando shook his head, “And what about it? I just wanted to be sure.”

“And are you?”

Lando chose not to say anything, just threw a cautious look behind his shoulder – one which prompted Max to jump to his reassurances.

“She does, okay?” He whispered softly, a pitiful look on his face, “I know that because of the way she looks at you when you’re not looking. She cares about you, man.” There was a pause, and Lando was too nervous to even look straight at Max, so he chose to focus on a spot above his head, completely missing the way Max hesitated, “She told P.”

Lando felt his neck practically snap to look at Max, nervousness completely abolished. His heart started thrumming with anticipation and the only thing he was capable of doing was staring so hard at Max the man’s skin prickled, “What?” Lando breathed, hoping he hadn’t just heard things in a mad craze.

Max screwed his eyes shut, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t be telling you this–”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Hagrid, but the situation is kinda dire here.” Lando cut in.

Max rolled his eyes, “Yeah, it’s kinda hard not to notice you’re a fucking chicken.”

“I’m on the brink of an anxiety attack.”

“Get a grip.” Max glared, half wanting to smack some sense into Lando and the other half wanting to laugh at the petrified look on his face.

“I can’t.” Lando threw the door open a little further out of frustration, hands going to grip Max’s shoulders in desperation.

Max breathed. He blinked. And then Lando thought he made an expression that looked as though he’d just suffered the most painful bout of trapped gas, “Don’t tell anyone–”

“Oh, thank fuck.”

“But P told me that they had a girls night with Ria, and they got to talking about guys, and P asked her if she had her eye on anyone and she got all blushy–”

“Get on with it.” Lando clenched his jaw, eyes darting down the corridor.

“I’m getting to it. Can she hear us? Actually, it doesn’t matter – but she got blushy and quiet and it turns out she’s liked you since we all went out for dinner the day after Silverstone, y’know, because she couldn’t go to the race, and you guys sat next to each other and she just liked you.”

(You could hear every word of what was being said.)

Lando felt his lips part in shock. Silverstone was towards the start of the season and there was one race left of the season.

July, August, September, October, November. You’d liked him for five months and hidden it from him that well? Since July? You guys could have been together-together since July?

Lando could feel his brain start to explode. His thoughts were getting louder–since July?–and Max’s face wasn’t doing anything to help it. If anything his big eyes were making it worse.

“Yeah, I know, it’s hard to believe.” Max muttered, and it seemed to snap Lando out of his shock-induced reverie.

“Oi.” Lando defended, “Did she say what made her like me?” He slowly took his hands off his friends shoulders.

Max nodded, “You talked to her the whole night. You were kind, funny, endearing, cute, nice to the waiter. Apparently she felt kind of bad you didn’t talk much to anyone else–”

“I didn’t talk to anyone else because I really liked her already.” Lando whispered, trying not to smile.

Max smirked, “Well, you need to tell her that, not me.”

Lando nodded, “Yeah. Bye.” And shut the door in Max’s face, taking a second to breathe and plant a small, non-suspicious-granting smile on his face before bounding around the corner to his side of the bed, flashing you a wider grin as he threw himself on the bed.

You swallowed, anxiety twirling in your stomach. You knew that telling P that stuff was likely to get back to Max, and then there was a chance that Max had told Lando – but you were shocked to find that Max had just chosen to hold onto that information out of loyalty to you. It warmed you, knowing you’d got a friend in Max, but it was also a little frustrating because you’d specifically been counting on P telling Max telling Lando. Maybe put a few feelers out.

And there was nothing reported back, so you just assumed Lando didn’t like you like that.

But he apparently did?

It was a tough thing to accept (a good thing to accept, you guessed), but not at all what you expected. You’d been planning for heartbreak (not that you'd planned to tell him), but now within the span of a two minute conversation, you had liberty to not expect disappointment.

And that was a little intimidating.

But Lando hadn’t stopped smiling since he’d put himself back on the bed, not bothering to get back under the covers considering it had been Max at the door, not room service–

“Who was it?” You asked, wanting to keep up the pretence of not having heard every word of their private conversation.

Lando hummed, one arm draped over his hair as he ripped his eyes away from the screen, “Sorry?”

He was looking at your mouth when you spoke, “Who was at the door?”

Then his eyes zipped to yours, “Just Max, he wanted to know if we were having breakfast downstairs. Sent him on his way.”

You nodded.

You could mention what you just heard, ask him if he remembered the dinner out. No, not subtle enough. He’d clock onto it immediately.

But you couldn’t just not say something.

Your hands darted out to fiddle with the edge of the duvet, where it was tucked around your torso. You weren’t even paying attention to the film anymore. You don’t know how long you let your mind run rings around your anxiety, but it was Lando’s hand creeping closer towards yours out of the corner of your eyes that had your head quietening. You watched him push his hand across the covers until it got within a centimetre of yours.

You could feel the warmth from his hand radiating on your skin, and his hesitation was clearly an opportunity for you to pull your hand away.

So you placed your palm on top of his upturned one. And he closed his fingers over your knuckles.

“You okay?” He asked softly.

You couldn’t look at him, but you could feel his concerned gaze burn against your cheek, “Yeah, just thinking.” You took a breath, looking up at him, “Do you ever wish we could have met earlier?”

He was nodding before you’d even finished talking, his entire face sincere in a way you didn’t think you’d ever seen, “All the time. I think meeting you earlier would have just made my life a lot easier.”

You tilted your head, squeezing his hand as you felt some colour rush to your cheeks, “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, “You make me feel calm, like, I look at you and I just feel better.”

He was looking at you like he was expecting you to say something back immediately, but your mind had gone blank.

So blank.

And then you felt his hand slowly slipping from your grip, his shoulders moving back to the centre of the bed from he’d leaned across to hold your hand, and you squeezed his hand, not wanting him to move away. You just needed a second to gather your thoughts.

“I need t–”

A knock at the door sounded.

Lando’s eyes darted from you to the door, back and forth, clearly torn. It wasn’t exactly a secret that you were about to say something serious – something that would change the entire dynamic of your relationship – but the interruption…

And at the thought of cold food after your stomach had been growling for the past hour, you made the decision for him. You unlaced your hands, pushing yourself off the bed and opening the door before you could change your mind or look at his face.

Neither of you said anything for the rest of breakfast, and nothing but an awkward, tense silence seemed to envelope the room.

The next time you saw him was when the group had decided to go for a last minute stroll, one of the stops being the shopping centre in the Venetian. Lando was walking with Max,;Ria with you behind them, and the rest of the group were trailing behind, occasionally laughing loudly. They were pretty raucous, and you and Ria were far enough behind Max and Lando that they couldn’t hear what you were talking about.

Ria had linked your arms, a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she pulled you closer after Lando had thrown another anxious glance over his shoulder to check on you, “Lando keeps checking you out.” She whispered.

You shook your head, momentarily biting the inside of your cheek, “He’s making sure I don’t run off.”

She frowned, looking back at Lando, who seemed to spin quickly after getting caught, “Why would you run off?”

You shrugged, trying not to think too much about it, “I overheard him and Max talking this morning about him liking me, and then Max told him about that night when we slept over at P’s place–”

“Yeah, because you wanted P to tell Max to tell Lando–” Ria nodded along.

“Exactly. Anyway, it turns out Max never told Lando, so since July, Lando’s been clueless about it all, and we had sort of a chat when he came back, and I was going to tell him–” Ria shot you a look, “I was, because if i didn’t tell him then, I never would’ve.” You groaned, “But then room service came and we haven’t talked since. But I think he knew I was going to say something, but–I don’t know.”

Ria seemed to think about it for a second, “He probably thinks you changed your mind.” She muttered.

You nodded, “I know, that’s the thing. I chickened out of telling him and then I thought he’d think I changed my mind, and then my brain seems to want to tell me that because he thinks I don’t like him anymore he won’t like me anymore, even though he’s not like that. At all. But now I can’t tell him because there’s people everywhere.”

Ria patted your arm, pulling out her phone, “Do you know what you’re gonna say to him?”

“No, I’m hoping it’ll come to me in the moment.” Even the thought of it sent a knot of anxiety plummeting in your stomach.

“Okay, this is what’s gonna happen: when we get to the shopping centre, everyone will want to go to the craziest shop they see first, okay? You say you want to get a drink first, and Max’ll get Lando to go with you.”

You nodded, “Okay.”

“I’ll text Max. You have to promise you’ll do it, though. Everyone needs to be put out of their misery.”

You raised a sceptical brow, “Everyone?”

She nodded, “Neither of you are subtle.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

As it happened, Ria’s theory was right. About seven people made an immediate beeline for the nearest shop with lights in the front and an array of weird things in the window (in all honesty, you were too nervous to even pay attention to what it was, it could have just been any high street shop).

You turned to Ria, “I’m gonna go get a coffee, I’ll meet you back here?”

She nodded, finding Max, who seemed to be on the lookout for her, and winked.

You took a deep breath, already beginning to walk away from the group. You’d all craned over a map on the way in so you knew vaguely which direction you were heading in, and when a hurried pair of footsteps jogged closer, your nerves seemed to only get worse.

Then Lando stepped next to you, and oddly enough, the anxiety you’d been holding onto all morning seemed to evaporate. And then it seemed to come crashing back in when you actually took in the expression on his face.

There was a slight downwards curve to his mouth, and his eyes were wide, brows furrowed. He looked a little frantic. And sad.

You wanted to drag your hand down his face and wipe it off.

In fact, you hated it so much that you stopped mid-step and grabbed his forearm without even thinking about it, “Is everything oka–”

“Are we still friends?” He breathed, eyes darting around your face.

You blinked, mouth parting at the loaded question. If you said yes you’d basically be rejecting him and that was the last thing you wanted to do; if you said no, you didn’t know what would happen. He could take it the wrong way and assume you didn’t want to be anything at all, but you were going to tell him – you had to, you promised Ria.

Even if it meant breaking his heart a little bit first, it’d have the best outcome.

You turned back around briefly, eyes scanning for a more private alcove, and dragged him to the nearest corridor, out of any possible stray eyes. It was a bit busy today, with the race last night–

You pushed him against the wall gently, hands wringing together. He slumped, clearly trying not to get too defeated by your silence after he’d spoken. But then his eyes dropped to your hands and he straightened, something unreadable on his face.

“I don’t want to still be friends.” You said, sighing and crossing your arms.

It was his turn to speak now. You seemed incapable of saying anything else at that moment.

He swallowed, brows furrowing. His face looked less despondent, so you took that as a win. He seemed to have been expecting you to say something like that (that was why he phrased the question in such a way!) because he pushed himself off the wall a little, “In what way?”

You rolled your eyes, “In an I like you way.”

“Romantically?” He took another step closer, a cheeky smile starting to curve at his mouth, and you said nothing at him.

Only this time it was of your own will.

He huffed a laugh, “I just need to hear you say it.”

“Romantically.”

It felt like a relief getting those words off your chest to the person you needed to say them to.

He seemed to think so too, because he grinned. Wider than he had before – like he had done last night, when he’d smiled with his entire being. His eyes crinkled in that way you adored, and his smile seemed ot reach his ears, “Thank fuck.” He breathed.

Then that was all he said.

You raised your brow, “Dude.” You encouraged, gesturing to him to go on.

He pulled a face, “Don’t ‘dude’ me.”

“You haven’t given me a reason not to ‘dude’ you.”

“I like you too, dickhead.” He grumbled, “A little less than before you called me ‘dude’, though.”

“I’m liking you less by the second.” You stated, trying not to laugh at the situation, “Romantically?” You checked, echoing his earlier question and also mocking it slightly.

“Romantically.” He clarified.

You both went silent, just drinking each other up in a way you hadn’t been able to five minutes ago. He looked gorgeous, as per usual. His hair was a little messier than it usually would be, probably a combination of the last-second plans and the fact that he wasn’t going to be showing his face on international TV. His face looked less restrained, like because he knew he didn’t have to hold back from looking at you everywhere, it was a weight lifted from his chest. His eyes were still smiling, glimmering a little, and his smile was softer – more secretive. His hands were flexing at his sides, as though he didn’t know what to do with them.

His hoodie hugged his shoulders, practically begging you to run your hands over them – but you didn’t. He looked snug, again, and before you could restrain yourself, you reached out and took one of his hands. His response was immediate, clasping his hand around yours and looking at you with a burning intensity. Only, you used your other hand to pull up his sleeve.

His forearm was tanned beautifully, veins completely visible. You’d never been allowed to just twist his arm around to your desire and simply look. You swallowed, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip and he caught it with his teeth.

You nudged your head closer, his nose softly bumping against your cheek.

Blood seemed to pump through your veins even faster than it already was. You could feel where you’d both stepped into each other, where his legs were pressed against yours, where your hands were still gripping, your other hand slipping off his forearm.

You could feel his breath tickle your cheek and your eyes fluttered shut briefly before snapping open. He was still looking at you, and in that split second he used the leverage of your conjoined hands to pull you even closer. You stumbled a little into him, tripping over his trainers, chests colliding. Your free hand slapped out to stop your falling, landing directly on top of his shoulder to brace yourself.

If anything, his little pull seemed to work because you were closer than before. All you had to do was lean closer–

“I want to kiss you but I want to take you on a date first.” He whispered, sucking the inside of his cheek nervously.

You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, “Because you’re a gentleman.”

He nodded, leaning closer despite his words. His eyes seemed to be zeroed in on your lips, and your mouth curved into a smile almost instantly at that observation. Then he smiled, nodding, your foreheads touching, “Yeah.”

“What kind of gentleman would you be if I wanted you to kiss me but you said no?” You breathed.

“Not a very good one.”

Lando’s lips were softer than you imagined, but there was a soul-crushing desperation behind it – a need, maybe the thought that someone could walk past the end of the corridor at any second and ruin this little pocket of relief, so he needed to make it last. You were eager, meeting him with an equal force that seemed to knock the air out of your lungs and weaken your knees – but his hold on you, he was touching you everywhere: one hand was on your cheek and laced in your hair, the other holding your back and pushing him against you – and you were practically leaning on him.

You didn’t know if it was the culmination of pent up feeling being released, or the fact that you were kissing him, but it felt euphoric; the way you seemed to move together was almost as if it had been rehearsed – which was insane, if you really thought about it. But you couldn’t, because he was practically kissing the breath out of your lungs, and you don’t know when it happened but you were pressing against him roughly, one hand on the back of his neck and the other wound in his hair.

And then you pulled away, breathing heavily. Your pulse was hammering and your blood was singing. You knew your cheeks would be red and your lips would be swollen, hair messy, but in that moment you couldn’t honestly find it within yourself to care.

And then he smirked, taking in your appearance.

His hair was practically everywhere. It looked like he’d just rolled out of bed after a deep sleep on one side of his face, and his cheeks were flushed, as were the tips of his ears and the slither of chest you could see from where his hoodie had slipped and been tugged.

Then you smacked him on the arm – not very hard. More of a light tap. He hissed nonetheless, smirk dropping but eyes still glazed over and watching you with what you now knew was lovesick intrigue.

“You’re a fucking chicken.” You pointed at him, “We could have been doing that last night.”

His expression dropped, eyes refocusing, “No, we could have been doing that since July.”

You tilted your head, “Maybe August, because I would have had to actually make sure I liked you.”

His expression dropped a little, an inquisitive smile still on his face, “Did you hear that entire conversation with Max?”

“It was hard to miss.”

“Oh.” He nodded, a smile on his face as he looped one hand around your shoulder, pulling you closer. You thought he was pulling you in for another kiss, your hand pressed comfortably against his chest, and he was an eyelash-length away from it when he stopped.

You were about to groan.

“What do you mean you had to make sure you liked me?” His brow was arched, but his tone wasn’t malicious or suspicious in any way. If anything it was coated with a thinly veiled layer of curiosity.

You shrugged, “Crushes go away. This kind of seemed to stick.”

“Lucky for me.” He kissed you, hands pressed against your cheeks in a display of faux passion and drama, before letting you go, hands not leaving you or letting you stray too far.

“So you never said when you started to like me.” You murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head and avoiding eye contact.

“Now is not the time to get shy on me.” You breathed, a hand going to hold his sleeve.

“I’m not shy, I just—” He shook his head, self-deprecation evident, “If I had to say, probably May.”

You stalled, not able to say much, “Monaco?”

“Yeah.”

Then something warm seemed to bloom in your chest and you felt your eyes soften and a small smile creep in your face at the admission, “When we met?”

He inhaled sharply, “Pretty much. I think the crush started when you offered to help me take my helmet photos.”

You laughed, “Those photos were pretty funny.”

He nodded, eyes darting again to the end of the corridor, “We can talk about all that later—”

“Agreed—”

“But I just wanna kiss you again.”

You just pulled him in.

#lando norris oneshot #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine

696 notes · View notes

just-some-random-blogger · 1 year ago

Text

I Win, You Lose

Pedro Pascal x Actress!Reader

Summary: In Loving Memory of Pedro Pascal, the best bachelor that ever graced the planet. He's not dead, he just got into a relationship and I'm in mourning.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, extremely delusional, socmed au, crack fic, use of y/n smh, fluff, im on my final straw, typos, etc.

A/N: listen pedro pascal is a happy pill for me and i just wanna be silly goofy so let me have this or else i will cry. Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @amis-love-bugs @top1bbgloak @sunfairyy @djarinsstuff @mooniesyubi @pedropascalgirly @mmmmandoz @multifandom-fangirl4

Flickering lights. Hollering paparazzi. Click, flash, shudder. Pedro smiles through it all then is redirected to a few interviewers.

The interviewer he is redirected to beams at the sight of him, adjusting his grip on his mic, "hi! How are you?"

Pedro smiles, "I'm good. How are you?"

"I'm great! I'm so excited to see what you have in store for us, as I'm sure everyone else is," he motions to the camera.

Pedro places a hand on his heart. He thanks him, "that means a lot. I'm excited for everyone to see as well."

"Are you nervous at all?"

Pedro blows a raspberry, "I feel like I'm about to pass out any second."

He laughs, "is that the same thing you felt when you were talking to Y/N Y/L/N?"

Pedro's eyes widen a fraction. He lets out a chuckle then stills for a second before playfully slapping the man's arm. He laughs so hard that he can't respond. His face grows a bit red.

The interviewer laughs with him.

Pedro regains his wits, "I won't lie to you, my brain disconnected when she fixed my tie."

"Oh yeah," he agrees, nonchalant, "she did that to me once-"

"SHE DID?!" Pedro gasps.

"-and my- Yeah, she did-"

"When?" Pedro furrows his brows and points a finger, "right now? Right now?! You're not even wearing a tie!"

"No! No! Last time!"

"Well," he purses his lips and raises his brows, "hate to break it to ya, but she fixed my tie, like, 5 seconds ago." He rolls his eyes.

The interviewer raises his hands, "you're right. You win."

"Yes, that's correct."

Y/N Y/L/N poses with Pedro Pascal and stuns in blue dress

pascaldailyupdates: Okay but y/n and pedro 👀👀👀👀

anakinskyrunnin: 🧍‍♀️ this wasn't on my bucket list

ynforgetsramen: WHY ARE THEY POSING LIKE THAT

→ oscarpascal replied: THE WAY HE LOOKIN HER HAS ME ILL

→ → ynishotok replied: ??? CONFIRMING A RELATIONSHIP SOON

grogumybeloved: BRO BRO BRO WHAT @.dilfpascal have you SEEN THIS

→ dilfpascal replied: ❌👄❌ wdm

ynweekly: SO YOURE TELLING ME MY PREDICTIONS WERE ALL WRONG?

→ oscarpascal replied: LITERALLY ME THIS IS SUCH A PLOT TWIST

hollywoodscoop: Y/N Y/L/N & Pedro Pascal spotted with friends in New Yourk.

→ smexywolf replied: THAT COULD LITERALLY BE AND MY GRAMMA THATS SO PIXELATED

→ starwitch replied: YO WAHT

→ javijavipedro replied: GUYS DW I WENT TO NEW YORK AND DIDNT SEE THIS 😌 it cant be real

→ ynftw replied: [VIOLENT SCREAMING] I THOUGHT SHE WAS DATING ANDREW GARFIELD MY SHIP WHAT ABOUT MY SHIP

→ → ynishotok replied: 😭😭😭 PLEASE SAME THOUGHTS

→ goetye replied: I HAVE EXAMS WHAT IS THIS

→ javimypapi replied: HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO COMPETE WITH FUCKING Y/N DAFAQ

→ → 1234choco replied: gg fr fr

Pedro Pascal & Y/N Y/L/N Confirm Relationship

Pascal has confirmed to Volume Magazine that he and actress Y/N Y/L/N have been in a "loving relationship" for a few months now.

pefropuppet: 🤪 loving 🤪 realtionship 🤪

→ javimypapi replied: 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 time to delete myself

It's Official! Pedro Pascal & Y/N Y/L/N are dating

And they're the cutest couple on this side of the planet.

wuit39pi: so glad i live on the otherside of the planet. that means this isn't real

c00lwhip: Y/N and I are still dating on the other side.

→ crayonpascal replied: me with pedro

ICYMI: Y/N Y/L/N dating Pedro Pascal

But I'm willing to bet you Pedro girlies did not miss a second of it.

djarinoppa: please this article is being so LOUD 😭

Radio 100 - Y/N Y/LN talks Pedro Pascal

"Let's talk about it," the young interviewer says, pursing her lips, pinching the air with her manicured nails.

I let out a breathy chuckle and nod, "let's."

"Pedro Pascal."

"Pedro Pascal," I repeat with a smile, continuing to nod.

"I want to know everything," she says, adjusting her headphones and her mic, "we at Radio 100, along with the rest of the world, want to know--" she turns to me, "--how did you bag the baddie?"

I break into laughter.

The host stresses, "the baddie."

"THE baddie," I repeat, "the baddie of our generation, Pedro Pascal," I chuckle and suck in a breath.

The interviewer chuckles with me and motions, "because goodness knows we're all going to be taking notes."

I sigh and think for a moment. I link my hands together and prop them on the table in front of me, "ya know, I was just real with him."

She nods, eager to know what else I had to say.

"I told him," I shrug, "I could bring him in hot or I could bring him in cold."

She breaks into a fit of laughs before I even finish the sentence. I laugh along with her, pleased with the reaction I garnered. She wheezes, "no but did you really?"

"Absolutely not," I snort, "that would have been great though, wouldn't? I'm pretty sure if I did do that, he would have cried."

We both cackle.

"Like," I chuckle, "don't know if it's a good cry or a bad cry but there would have been tears."

dukes_Ducks reposted itsYNduh's story [captioned] 😱😱😱😱

cheeseontoast reposted itsYNduh's story [captioned] THE PEDRO MEME???????????????????????????????????????????

anabreathing reposted itsYNduh's story [captioned] ARE WE GOING TO SEE THEM ON A MAGAZINE TOGETHER LORD HAVE MERCY

TESTmeTRY reposted itsYNduh's story [captioned] in front of my mother fucking salad 💀✋

pascalispunk reposted itsYNduh's story:

howlorgrowl reposted pascalispunk's story [captioned] did this mf really just say strongly worded letter 😂😂 fuck outta here

itsYNduh reposted pascalispunk's story [captioned] THANK YOU 😤😤

dindjarindaddy reposted pascalispunk's story [captioned] ????? WHAT IS THIS

thelastofh0e reposted pascalispunk's story [captioned] his boomer jumped out smh SCREAMING

pascaldailyupdates: Pedro and Y/N spotted together in a beach in Malibu.

→ MOONBABE replied: AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW *RUNS INTO A TRAINTRACK*

→ igotb00bs replied: 💔SO💔HAPPY💔FOR💔YOU💔

→ brrrrambo replied: shhhh you guys its too blurry to tell who it is

→ → dilfpascal replied: LMAOOO

→ → → ynishotok replied: we love denial 🤡

→ cornyluvaffir replied: OK BUT THE HANDS AND THE LEANING AND THE THING WITH THE

→ javimypapi replied: NO CUZ THE WAY MY DAD SAID HE SAW THE MANDO GUY ON THE BEACH AND I DIDNT BELIEVE HIM

→ → 404dead replied: ✋✋✋✋ aint no fucking way 💀

→ dingdongdont replied: *sips clorox cutely*

dadystate0mind: BABE WAKE UP NEW PEDRO Y/N PICS JUST DROPPED

→ dilfpascal replied: what if was my last straw

→ ynbaeluv replied: im so glad this is blurry so i can pretend i didnt see it

→ lmaotryagain replied: the pda is pdaing

→ honeyyn replied: no cuz he got her smiling like mad 😢

→ pedromiamor replied: 😭😭😭

→ ynthighsluv replied: alexa play that should be me

LOOK: Pedro Pascal and Y/N Y/L/N in New York

→ batmanis1 replied: LMAOOOOOO THEY REALLY SAID 4K ULTRA HD

→ → yuh1200 replied: FRRR IM SOBBING I CANT USE THE ITS TOO BLURRY EXCUSE ANYMORE

→ → → jennieluvu replied: JOKES ON YOU I DONT HAVE MY GLASSES ON

→ → → → isaacpascal replied: DW I BLURRED THE PIC FOR US [image attached]

→ propernadz replied: I'm mentally unwell because they look so good together and I cannot deny.

→ stuckyforlife replied: GOD I HAVE SEEN WHAT YOU DO FOR OTHERS

→ natasharomanovv replied: i just woke up

→ → nevergain replied: same 😭😭😭

bellaramsey reposted itsYNduh's story

508cutie reposted bellaramsey's story [captioned] HELP BELLA REPOSTED THIS I CANT

donttalkbetty reposted itsYNduh's story [captioned] SCREASMIFNF

pascalispunk reposted itsYNduh's story:

dilfpascals reposted pascalispunk's story [captioned] DEAD IN THE GRAVE NO ONE TOUCH ME

memeynok reposted pascalispunk's story [captioned] APOLOGY WITH TEARS

anderson_1 reposted pascalispunk's story [captioned] no but theyre so cute for this and i hate it

enterthesandman reposted pascalispunk's story [captioned] HES SHYYYYYY

ilovepascl reposted pascalispunk's story [captioned] WHAT IF THIS WAS MY LAST STRAW

itsYNduh reposted pascalispunk's story:

igotitithink reposted itsYNduh's story [captioned] GOD I SEE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR OTHERS

ILOVEyn reposted itsYNduh's story [captioned] WHEN IS IT MY TURN

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal crackfic #pedro pascal social media au #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x actress!reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #help me im so tired #HAHAAH MY PREV TAG ME WHY AM I ALWAYS SO TIRED WHEN I MADE THESE #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal soc med au #pedro pascal socmed au #pedro fanfic #pedro crackfic

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lateatnewyork · 10 months ago

Text

Teenage Love Triangle

charlie bushnell x fem!reader

summary: you and charlie star in the taylor swift trilogy short film along with sabrina carpenter. (cardigan, august, betty)

warnings: smau, fluff

a/n STOP IVE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE THIS FOR AGES BUT SCHOOL IS JS SO UGH um so reader is an orphan her parental figures are taylor and travis (she’s not adopted by them it’s js they’re like that to her)

liked by sabrinacarpenter, ynln and others taylorswift can’t wait to add this to my short films directed by me collection (it’s really not that big) view comments

user34 OMG WHOS JAMES??? ➔taylorfanpage BIGGER QUESTION: WHOS AUGUSTINE??? ➔ user09 EVEN BIGGER QUESTION: WHOS BETTY????? gracieabrams been waiting for this 🤭 ➔ ynln same 🤭 ➔ hearts4yn they know something walkerscobell AHHH FOLKLORES MY FAVOURITE ➔ walkersno1fan WALKER’S A SWIFTIE?? ➔ leahsavajeffries only bcos of me

comments

user67 CHARLIE AND YN I REPEAT CHARLIE AND YN. hearts4yn IM ABSOLUTELY GEEKING OVER YN AND CHARLIE ynandsabrinarmyqueens “james and betty this” or “james and betty that” honestly screw james, betty and augustine should get to together ➔ sabrinafan REALL hearts4yn PLS MARRY ME YN 💍 ynloml i need a romcom with charlie and yn ASAP simpforsabrina i’ve watched this 20 times in the day it’s been released js to see yn 😭

liked by iamcharliebushnell, leahsavajeffries and others ynln folklore: teenage love triangle has to be one of the best sets i’ve been on (not js cos taylor was the director), i absolutely loved working with bri and charlie. and director taylor is an absolute dream. (wish she was the director for every movie i act in) view comments

taylorswift you, charlie and sabrina were perfect for this role absolutely loved this and working with you guys ➔ ynln LOVE YOUUU leahsavajeffries someone tell me if i can inject this film into me ➔ ynln 🤭 ➔ walkerscobell it’s giving druggie aryansimhadri now i have to do the holy trinity for karaoke night 😔 (i’ve been looking for an excuse for this since forever) ➔ ynln LMAO PLS DO dior.n.goodjohn google can i inhale a short film? ➔ ynln NUMBER ONE FAN RIGHT HERE sabrinacarpenter you and charlie were made for each other this comment was deleted sabrinacarpenter IT WAS SO FUN TO FILM WITH YOU ➔ ynln YOU WERE THE STAR FRFR ➔ sabrinacarpenter 🙈 hearts4yn context for picture 1?? ➔ gracieabrams yn js found out she had to make out with charlie on screen ➔ iamcharliebushnell wow i see how it is ➔ ynln it’s not what it looks like i swear walkerscobell context for last pic??? ➔ ynln taylor was literally telling you not to run around with the cameras

singing trio gracie, bro

gracie sabrina ur not slick bri I DELETED IT yn deleted what?? bri the important thing is to not panic yn did u js quote grover from pjo bri i’ve been watching it so i can prepare for when ur silena gracie 🙄 sabrina commented how u and charlie were made for each other yn SABRINA ANNLYNN CARPENTER YOU DID WHAT bri gracie i was literally getting to it yn yk what it’s fine i mean we should probably go public, taylor knows and she approves gracie exactly you have nothing to worry about yn i have travis to worry abt 😭 bri im sure charlie could fight him

demigod fakers char 💕, diorolor, cutie leah, walkie-talkie, rolling in the deep

diorolor dude WHY IS THE INTERNET SO CLUELESS walkie-talkie HELP THATS SO RANDOM cutie leah NO COS FR LIKE WDYM THAT YOU THINK YN AND CHARLIE ARE SUCH A GOOD ON SCREEN COUPLE rolling in the deep theyre a good offscreen couple too diorolor HARD LAUNCH HIM cutie leah OR SOFT LAUNCH WE DONT RLLY CARE diorolor JS LAUNCH HIM yn i didn’t know u guys felt so strongly abt this topic😔 walkie-talkie LAUNCH HIM rolling in the deep LAUNCH HIM diorolor LAUNCH HIM cutie leah listen to the ppl yn char 💕 why are there so many notifications yn dw babe

liked by sabrinacarpenter, dior.n.goodjohn ynln the gc forced me to soft launch him view comments

sabrinacarpenter i’d like to praise leah and dior 🙏 gracieabrams FINALLY leahsavajeffries NO WAY LET YOU TIE A RIBBON AROUND HIS MUSCLES walkie-talkie i think i know who it is ➔ ynln YOU LITERALLY TOLD ME TO LAUNCH HIM 😭 killatrav who’s this ➔ ynln i can explain…

liked by taylorswift, gracieabrams and others ynln they hung out without me but watched little women??? comments are closed

liked by iamcharliebushnell, walkerscobell and others ynln meant to post that on my private 😅 whoops here’s my bf guys view comments

iamcharliebushnell i love you ➔ ynln i love you too baby walkerscobell LOLLL ➔ ynln THE SOFT LAUNCHING DID NOT LAST sabrinacarpenter ur too goofy 😭 ➔ ynln stop 😭 dior.n.goodjohn HELPP ➔ ynln STOP BULLYING ME IN MY OWN COMMENT SECTION gracieabrams the panic in ur eyes when u realised that you posted on the wrong account 😭 ➔ leahsavajeffries 😭 ➔ dior.n.goodjohn 😭 ➔ sabrinacarpenter 😭

liked by ynln, leahsavajeffries and others iamcharliebushnell love you ynn tagged: ynln comments are closed

liked by walkerscobell, leahsavajeffries and others ynln lil photo dump for the end of the year, see you guys next year 😜 comments are closed

a/n WALKER AND LEAH GOT BANNED??? also i got sleepy near the end that’s why there’s not many comments

137 notes · View notes

dublinskeetz · 11 months ago

Note

could you maybe do a fic (don’t worry if you can’t 🫶🏼) with eli or bobby maybe enemies to lovers and the person is the band’s photographer or is on keys 🤍🤍

𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐞

hii ofc, i wasnt sure if u wanted a smau or written soo i sort of did both since the reader is their photographer, hope u like it!! this is my first tumblr fic so im still getting used to how to work the app lollll, sorry if u don't like it but pls give me ur thoughts so i can learn to improve JAJA

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘻 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘴

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵, 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘧, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺'𝘴 #1 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 — 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘻 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

yourusername

liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and others

yourusername dropping these flicks in honor of my fav boys (and bobby ig) letting me join them on tour to take cute pics of them 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

view all 2389 comments

joshjenkinson_ WOOO after months of begging

yourusername a little begging doesnt hurt when i have to spend months with devils spawn joshjenkinson_ bobby loves u dw bobbyskeetz why do you automatically think shes talking about me bobbyskeetz and i do not

bobbyskeetz so thrilled to have you.

inhalerfan1 wtf why is she always hating on bobby he does nothing wrong to her!!! how about you leave and like never speak to him again.🙄🙄

inhalerfan2 saying this doesnt make bobby want u any more! bobbyskeetz how about you leave her alone? ryanmcmahon_15 aw look at u protecting her

elijahhewson the crowd erupts in cheers

yourusername by crowd u mean u, josh, and ryan LMAFO elijahhewson and bobby he just wont admit it

inhalerfan300 something abt the boys getting their pics taken by a sexy woman makes them even sexier tbh

liked by elijahhewson, ryanmcmahon_15 and 30 others

inhalerfan11 fuc the guys I WANT U

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"say, cheese!"

your lens shuttering was heard throughout the tour bus, trying to take candid, but not candid at the same time, pictures of the boys. tour was great, amazing even. you felt at peace when taking pictures of the band in their natural element. whether it be on stage, at a pub, or even just at time when it was just one on one hangouts. except, for bobby

bobby skeetz, you didn't know what you had done to make the boy dislike you from the moment he laid eyes on you. maybe it was your personality, the possibility to get on with everyone around you, happiness radiating off of you. or perhaps it was one night stand you had with him 4 years ago. but you chose to pick the former as the reason.

it didn't matter what you tried, his anger, regret, or whatever he felt never seemed to ease.

despite telling them to smile, bobby still had a grim look on his face, clearly wanting to be anywhere else but in front of you. rolling your eyes, you lowered your camera, dismissing the guys from the lens.

as the boys one by one retreated to their own areas, bobby stuck sitting in front of you as you placed your equipment away. you could feel his eyes watching you as you worked, and you found he often did this. though you could never force yourself to look back up at him, knowing his eyes would probably be full of dislike.

"is there something you need robert," you asked him, getting closer and closer to being fed up with his acts.

"no, just thinking."

"of?"

"why we would need another photographer when we already had lewis."

rolling you eyes, why do i even bother, thinking to yourself.

hiding behind a door was josh, ryan, and eli, silently watching the two of you interact. "i bet you they get together by the end of the tour," ryan spoke.

"oh you are so on McMahhon."

"dunno, maybe you should ask your mates. you didn't seem to complain too much when they asked me, repeatedly," you argued.

there was a thick tension in the air, these petty fights between the two of you were normal at this point, and despite your attempts to be professional, his pettiness was starting to get to you.

in reality, you didn't mind bobby at all, in fact, you felt a pull towards him. but ever since that mistake, that for some reason he can't seem to forget, he has made his presence unbareable.

"why must you make everything so difficult," you sighed, frustration evident in your tone as you continued to pack away your equipment.

"i'm not the one making things difficult, thats your speciality, isn't it," he snapped back. there was a mix of annoyance and indifference in his expression as he starred at you. "or maybe its the fact that you love to pretend nothing happened."

"what the hell are you talking about," you spoke, your patience so close to breaking.

bobby scoffed, "oh please, you know exactly what i'm talking about. four years ago when you left me!"

there was a heavy silence between the two of you, could he seriously be holding onto the past for that long? was this really the reason why he hated you so much? you can admit, you have your regrets on the way those things played out, but what were you supposed to do? act like sleeping with him didn't hurt you in ways you didn't even know you could hurt? the way he easily uttered those words to you, this doesn't mean anything, does it? it pained you, so really, what were you supposed to do?

but you were never really good with your emotions, so frustration bubbled inside you, "fine, you want to hold onto the past? go ahead, keating. but don't act like i'm the only one at fault here."

your heated exchange echoed throughout the bus, leaving an uncomfortable silence. but meanwhile, the other three boys exchanged knowing looks.

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yourusername

liked by elijahhewson and others

yourusername tours almost ova so heres some flicks to prepare u for the drought

view all 2930 comments

elijahhewson pay up ryan

ryanmcmahon_15 ITS NOT OVER YET SHUT UP yourusername meaning?? elijahhewson NOTHING ryanmcmahon_15 NOTHING

inhalerfan11 NOOOO

inhalerfan23 god i have seen what u have done for others

trumanblack come take some flicks for us?

elijahhewson no joshjenkinson_ no bobbyskeetz shes all yours mate ryanmcmahon_15 rob shut up before i leak some information that i find very important. bobbyskeetz YOU WOULD NEVER joshjenkinson_15 TRY US bobbyskeetz JOSH NOT YOU TOO yourusername OIII all of u. out my comment section

inhalerdublin twas an honor having u with us, and for the rest of the tours!🤗🤗

inhalerdublin whos us? yourusername robert get out

inhalerfan100 why do i get the gut sense that her and bobby do not like each other?

inhaler203 i dont think so, i was at their last shows and he complete heart eyes for her liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and joshjenkinson_ inhaler203 RYAN JOSH WHAT DO U KNOW inhaler100 their my enemies to lovers trope

oliviarodrigo im going on tour soon babes if u need a job😉😉

yourusername omg.

inhaler45 im living for this comment section

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throughout the remaining of the tour, there was an uncomfortable tension between you and bobby, and with the last dates coming up, you weren't sure if you wanted to come back.

but then again, you were confused.

after your last blow with the bassist, there was a peace between the two of you, if thats what you could even call it. he no longer took every opportunity to be petty, in fact, you hadn't spoken a word to the man since.

but you saw the tweets, the comments, and even noticed the other three members of the band acting funny when the two of you were in close proximity. the possible thought that bobby felt anything to you besides utter dislike, felt impossible.

the group of you were lounging around before the boys had to go onstage, and you could still feel bobby's eyes piercing at you from behind. despite the other's chatter, there was still an underlying discomfort from the two of you. his gaze lingered on you, and looking back towards him, you noticed there was a mixture of frustration and something else.

attempting to break the silence, you sighed in defeat, "what's wrong with you now, rob?"

there was a moment of hesitation on his part, jaw clenching, "it's nothing," he muttered, but his tone said otherwise.

"doesn't seem like it," you countered. you were tired of fighting with him, you just wanted peace for the remainder of the tour. "look, tour is almost over and can we at least try to-"

but he interrupted you before you could even finish, "try to what? pretend like everything is okay," his voice laced with bitterness, "like nothing happened?"

you sighed in defeat, feeling an oncoming argument brewing, "you cannot keep dwelling on the past rob," you pleaded, trying to keep your voice steady, "what happened was a mistake, for you," you emphasized, "and for me."

"a mistake," he scoffed, "you're acting like it meant nothing, like i meant nothing."

there was a clear tone of hurt and resentment in his voice, his words cutting deeper than you could've imagined, "that is not fair rob," you whispered, looking away from his eyes. trying to avoid his gaze, you noticed the room had cleared, the three boys' chatter no longer being background noise to your conversation.

those little shits.

bobby noticed your avoidance, "you just left, without a word," he continued, his voice filled with an ache that mirrored your own. "do you have any idea how much that hurt?"

the weight of his accusations hung heavily in the air, did he really have no idea of how much he hurt you too? how much you look back to that night and wish things were normal between the two of you.

"it wasn't easy for me either," you confessed, voice barley audible. "but what did you expect me to do? especially after what you said."

the atmosphere became thick with emotion, your unsaid words confusing him.

"what are you going on about?"

"really? 'this doesn't mean anything'," you scoffed, your hidden emotions rising to the surface, "do you know how heartbreaking those four words were? god, do you know how many nights i spent thinking about that. then here you come accusing me of being at fault."

his eyes softened at your confession, "i didn't know. you never said."

"i thought you knew," you cut him off, "i shouldn't have to tell you how harmful your words were."

"i didn't know," he spoke softly, getting up and standing in front of you, looking down at you into your eyes, "you could've told me. i would have been there for you.

"and what would have you done? hm?" you quipped as you looked away, anger and ache still inside your tone.

he softly grabbed your chin for you to look back up at him, "i would've told you how stupid i was, how scared. you have no idea how afraid i was of it ruining everything, and look at us now, look at what it's done to us. look at what my stupidity has done to us. i would've been there for you, through everything because i love you."

your breath hitched, utter surprise written all over your face, a small smile beginning to spread across your face, "i love you, and you aren't stupid. its just your pettiness," you spoke, trying to make the conversation lighter.

"oi, you're one to talk woman," he laughed, cupping your cheek to pull you into a kiss.

and as if it was right out of a corny soap opera, you heard a cheery whistle from the side of you. turning you were met with those three little shits with grins on their faces, well except eli, who looked completely defeated.

"as much as i am happy for the two of you coming to your senses," ryan began, turning to eli, "pay up, hewson."

eli groaned in frustration, pulling out cash from his pocket and placing it onto the ryan and josh's outstretched palms.

"you shits placed a bet on us?" bobby questioned.

"was an easy bet, after you drunkenly confessed your love to me a few nights before tour," josh explained to you two.

bobby's cheeks heated up, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. "is that what your silly comments on my posts meant?" you asked the trio.

"uh, look at the time! c'mon keating, time to perform!"

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yourusername

liked by bobbyskeetz and others

yourusername that one AM lyric about looks of love or smth

view all 4930 comments

inhalerfan43 OHMYGODAD

inhalerfan111 THE HARDLAUNCH IM DYIGNAKE

bobbyskeetz this damaging my rep woman

yourusername k bobbyskeetz haha i was just kidding bobbyskeetz i love you elijahhewson robert keating has emotions??

inhalerfan23 ive lost the love of my life to a guy who plays bass...

yourusername he's dorky ways and sassiness has captivated me bobbyskeetz HEY

ryanmcmahon_15 WAR IS OVERRRR

inhalerfan2 hes one of us fr yourusername dont think i've forgotten abt ur little bet dipshit ryanmcmahon_15 uh.... liked by joshjenkinson_, elijahhewson and 80 others

bobbyskeetz my woman

yourusername ur so babygirl i love u

bobbyskeetz THE LOOK OF LOVE THE RUSH OF BLOOD, THE SHES WITH MES

joshjenkinson_ this was so worth him talking my ear off about u

bobbyskeetz OI

inhalerfan432 HIS LOVE STARE IN THE LAST PIC IM SOBBING

inhalerfan00 im soooo normal abt them ahhahahahahahah

inhalerfan12 shes one of us fr

yourusername oh fs inhalerfan12 HI MOTHER

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THE END

omg sooo lmk if u guys enjoyed this? pls i haven't written in so long so sorry it took be a bit to release this

also if theres any error in the format or anything i apologize cause im still getting used to writing on tumblr

lots of loveeeee <333

#robert keating x reader #bobby skeetz #bobby skeetz x reader #bobby skeetz imagine #inhaler #inhaler fic #inhaler imagine #enemies to lovers #fanfic #sunshine x grumpy #x reader

207 notes · View notes

kumezyzo · 1 year ago

Note

headcanons driving with bf!sapnap? i have brain rot rn over your tiktok you shared 🥹 maybe like a long road trip

this has been in my inbox for a bit. but its fine cause its 🐬 anon and we just ✨️understand eachother✨️. um...yea, my mind immediately went to when he 'stole' jimmy's car lol. so i refrained from writing that for now, dw. i would write that but as streamer reader. but this can be read as streamer or normal (?) reader.

umm, yea, enjoy! or dont... :) m.list

bf!sapnap who asks you to meet his family in texas. and as a result, you suggest a road trip.

"baby, thats like a fourteen hour trip," he says in concern.

"so we drive seven hours each," you state obviously.

he looks at you cautiously before shrugging, "okay, then..."

bf!sapnap who puts his arm around your seat when he starts backing out of the driveway. then he remembered he had a backup camera and put his arm down. causing your heart to flutter for a moment before deep disappointment set in.

bf!sapnap who doesnt realize how much you've been staring at him since the drive started. twenty minutes in, he looks over at you as if to ask whats wrong.

he gives you a questioning nod, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks between you and the road.

"nothing," you say, looking down at your phone and pursing your lips to hide your smile.

"hmm..." he trails off playfully. "whatever you day, baby."

bf!sapnap who quietly sings to songs, tapping the steering wheel to the beat.

bf!sapnap who reaches over to give your thigh a squeeze and immediately bringing his hands back to the steering wheel.

"yes, sir?" you ask, shocked by the sudden act of affection.

"nothin', just felt like it," he says, keeping his eyes on the road.

bf!sapnap who reaches over to hold your hand over the middle console.

"are you getting bored?" you ask him, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand.

"no... i just want to hold your hand," he says, squeezing your hand.

bf!sapnap who refuses to let you drive for a while until you stop at a gas station and beat him to the drivers seat.

"no!" he half shouted when he saw you sprint to the car as he pumped gas into the car. he stood infront of door, not expecting you to run to the passangers seat. he wasnt able to react fast enough as you dove into the front seat.

you cackled out loud when he opened the door and accepted defeat at the sight of your spread across the passangers seat, the console, and the drivers seat.

"haha! fuck you!" you laugh out as he rolls his eyes and closes the door in absolute defeat.

bf!sapnap who falls asleep in the passanger seat, light snores sounding in harmony with the music playing quietly through the car.

you look over when you hear a quiet snore in between songs playing. you couldnt help the smile spread on your face at the way he curled up against the door. his face resting in his hand against the window.

bf!sapnap who wakes up and with his eyes barely open, chugs half a large water bottle. like when you wake up from those good naps.

"how far are we?"

"not too far."

"which means...?" he trails off sleepily.

"since you drove for nine hours instead of seven, and ive driven for four..." you say waiting for him to do the math.

"mamas... i cant do math right now," he says, trying to rub the sleep off his face.

"we have like an hour to go, love," you say with a giggle, reaching over and giving his thigh a similar squeeze to the he gave you earlier.

bf!sapnap who leans over and gives you a kiss when you reach the first stop light in a couple of hours.

bf!sapnap who post a video to his story on snapchat with the caption 'passenger princess core ✨️✨️🤪'

he pans the camera towards you focusing on the road, your arm resting on the window, your head resting in your hand and the other on the steering wheel. to his luck, you place both arms on the wheel as you turn on your indicator.

then he comically reaches over to grab your right hand and slaps it onto his thigh. you look at him in shock before realizing he was filming. the video cuts right as you start laughing at his antics.

bf!sapnap who give you different directions to his mothers house once you guys get to an area he remembers.

bf!sapnap who cant help but smile when you show him the pictures you took of him when he was sleeping and while he was driving.

"you took pictures of me driving?" he asks as you guys lay in the bed in the room he spent a majority of his life.

i had a lot of fun writing this. it was cute and shit. sorry if reader seemed to much like a character even tho they technically are (?)... i just couldnt help it. -nony

"yea, you looked hot," you tell him nonchalantly with a shrug.

#sapnap #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #dteam #sapnap x y/n #🐬 anon

202 notes · View notes

m00nh1gh · 1 year ago

Text

MOTH TO A FLAME

Han x reader

Getting your mind off your cheating boyfriend

Contains: Lowkey harassment (it's not Han dw), lots of love, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (Han is v cute and there's some plot)

Word count: 2k.

"I swear to god Thomas I saw you with that girl in your car, don't tell me otherwise!"

"It only happened once! I love you, Y/n," your soon-to-be ex boyfriend tried to grab your hand but you slapped his away and pointed your finger in his face.

"It did not. I know you've been fucking her for a few months now, I only needed proof to show you. You're such a fucking bitch.

- Trust me, please! I wasn't in my right mind. It won't ever happen again, I promise. Don't go," by the tone of his voice, you thought he was soon going to get on his knees to beg your pardon.

You took your phone out of your pocket, opened your camera roll and showed him a video you took of him with the girl he'd been cheating on you with.

They were in your own appartment's parking lot, in the girl's car. They were obviously making out and the video ended when Thomas was about to take the girl's shirt off.

You saw how his desperate expression turned into a dark one as he watched the video. His jaw clenched and his ears were getting redder.

"Don't try to deny it. At my fucking apartment too? You really set yourself up.

- It's not my fault if you don't know how to fuck me well! I didn't break up with you because I know you need me. Without me, you have nothing and you know that. What's bad with filling the needs you don't provide me?" He raised his voice and you looked right back in his eyes, not taking any of his bullshit.

"If there's anyone here who needs the other, it's definitely not me. Who's the one who's been begging for forgiveness?" You put your phone back in your pocket. "You're disgusting and I hope the girl finds out soon. Don't talk to me anymore."

You turned to walk away, but he grabbed your wrist tightly to turn you back around. He tried to kiss you forcefully, but as you guessed what he was trying to do quickly, you kicked him in the balls with your knee. He yelled in pain and as he let go of you and fell on the floor, you took this opportunity to slap him across the face.

"Don't ever touch me again! Your mom must be so disappointed in you," you hit him again with that last sentence as you knew his mother was dead, but you didn't care anymore. He deserved it.

You finally grabbed the doorknob and left him alone in his apartment. You ran down the stairs and to your car, the tears finally spilling from your eyes. That's it, you broke up with him. You had been looking forward to doing it, but as it was now done, you only thought about one thing: Going to him. He was your only goal and the thought of finally being free from Thomas made you eager to see him again. You could finally settle for him after having been a little more than friends for months (ever since you had found out Thomas had been seeing girls behind your back).

You drove all the way to his house and didn't wait a minute to get out of your car and to ring his doorbell. You had been crying during the whole ride, but you didn't care about stopping because you knew he would wipe your tears away and you craved his touch more than anything right at this moment.

Jisung. You sighed in relief as you saw those familiar dark brown eyes meeting yours after he had opened the door. His hair was messy, meaning that he had been laying either on his bed or on the couch before your arrival.

He was beautiful, the way he looked at you with concern as he let you in. The way he asked if you were okay, if anything bad had happened. The way he held your arm so you wouldn't fall as he lead you to his couch in the living room. The way he just let you cry on his shoulder as he stroked your hair to soothe you.

"I broke up with him.

- You did?" He stopped running his hand through your hair for a moment while he processed what you had just said.

"Yes. I'm finally done with him," you pulled away from his shoulder to look into his eyes. You faintly smiled at him and he soflty grabbed your face with his hands, so carefully as if you were going to break by his touch.

"That's amazing, Y/n. I knew you could do it.

- I don't know what I'd do without you, Jisung. I really love you, more than in a romantic way. I can't keep it in anymore.

- I love you so much too, you have no idea," he smiled uncontrollably as he leaned in to kiss you. It was slow and full of emotions, but something in the back of your head made you think this was as intense as usual, but now that you had finally confessed your limitless love for him, everything made sense to you.

It was so painfully obvious that he had been in love with you for so long, maybe for years. This man did everything for you and it was only a matter of time before his feelings would have transformed into words.

You put your hands on his shoulder as you sat on his lap, deepening the kiss. Now that you knew you both loved each other in a romantic way, you didn't hold back to whisper to him how much you loved him between kisses. He would whisper the same thing to you over and over again as he guided your hips to slowly grind on him.

You were both breathing heavily as you made out on his couch, the thought of your now ex boyfriend slowly making its way out of your head. There was only Jisung and your love for him.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to say it to you, it's been pure torture," he admitted as your lips parted and you looked into each other's eyes.

"I'm here now, we have all the time to tell it to each other.

- I love you.

- I love you too," you went back to kissing him and you also restarted the movements of your hips on him.

Your clothes were literal obstacles for you at that point, you needed his bare skin on yours. You hastily took your shirt off and he did the same with his. You traveled your hands on his chest, his arms and back to his shoulders as he undid your bra and you let it slide off your arms before pressing your body on his.

You gasped in surprise as he laid you on the couch and he was on top of you. You had wrapped your arms around his neck and the moment your back pressed against the couch, his lips were back on yours to then trail down your chin, your neck, your collarbones...

"Ji, I need you.

- I need you too, love. Don't worry," he looked back up at you as he stroked your cheek. "I need to prepare you first."

You nodded as he made his way between your legs to pull your pants down. You helped him with it, lifting your hips up as he slid both your pants and panties off. He kissed your inner thigh multiple times while looking at you.

"You're beautiful, I could watch you all day long without getting bored.

- You're the most perfect man I've ever met, Jisung. I'm all yours."

He slid his tongue along your folds, earning you a moan. He then went back up to your clit to pepper it with kisses and to lick on it, as one of his fingers didn't waste any time and easily slid into you.

You loved how skilled he was with his hands and mouth, he always knew how to make you feel good and he never once made you feel insecure about your body. That's how you knew you could always trust him and how real good relationships should work.

Your hands found their way to Jisung's hair as he continued eating you out. As you tugged on it, he moaned a little and he slid a second finger into you. You tugged a little more as a reaction and he only went faster with his tongue.

You knew you wouldn't last long if he kept up the pace he was using on you, but you didn't care, because you would go on for the whole night with him if you could. So when he stretched you even more with a third finger and you felt your orgasm coming, you didn't hold it back and rolled your hips against him.

"I'm gonna cum, Ji. Don't stop," one of your hands made its way to your nipple, pinching it as you arched your back. Jisung didn't slow down and soon you were at your high, moaning for him over and over.

"I love you," he kissed your jaw as he went back to you, leaving your pussy to be pressed against his boxers.

"I love you too," you left a mark on his shoulder before he stood up to take off the last remaining clothes he had on.

He then went back on top of you, now concentrating to line himself up to your hole. Once he had the tip in, he went to kiss you passionately as he slowly entered you wholly.

He let out soft moans as you did too, taking him so well as he said between two kisses. He slowly but deeply thrusted in you, savoring the moment. He didn't want to let go of you, but his neediness got the best of him and the way you'd moan his name under him made him go progressively faster, chasing his high the more as time passed.

"I can't wait to wake up next to you every morning from now on," he put a strand of your hair behind your ear so he could see your face better as he smiled at you.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you," you moaned and intertwined your fingers with his, now holding his hand right beside your head.

He went at a faster pace as he felt you move a little more, giving him the hint that you were close. He chased his high with you, the noise of skin slapping becoming louder as you both panted and moaned for each other.

He hurried to have you get your orgasm before his, so he drew circles on your clit with the hand that wasn't in yours. That meant you were now sitting on his lap, riding him as your hips stuttered due to the overstimulation.

"Go on, cum for me. You're so beautiful when you do."

You only nodded, letting out a few other moans as you felt you were so, so close. You suddenly stopped when you came, only needing Jisung's hand to finish you up.

Once you had calmed down, you lifted yourself up from him, taking his dick in your hand to make him cum. As much as you wanted him close to you, you also wanted to be careful as you did not want kids at this moment.

His moans sounded more like hiccups as he came in your hand. You softly kissed his neck as you helped him ride his orgasm out. You then laid your chin on his shoulder, waiting for his pants to turn more into steady breathing.

You had already said plenty of "I love you"'s, but saying it a hundred times again wouldn't bother you ever.

___

This is so bad omfg BUT THE NEW ALBUM IS NOTTTTT MY FAV SONG IS SUPER BOWL FOR SURE

#Spotify #skz #skz fanfic #skz smut #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #han jisung smut #han jisung #han

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imaginemcyt · 2 years ago

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what it's like being a part of cricket crew

synopsis: headcanons of what it's like being the seventh member of the cricket crew <3

tw: none!

you probably met everyone through aimsey. not sure why but this is how i see it going

they introduced you to all of her friends, and you quickly became part of their group

if you live far away, you guys spoke over discord a lot before you got to meet irl

if you live closer, you met irl very fast!!

either way, once you meet irl, the chaos truly begins...

you hang out with tommy a lot during vlogs and streams

you know that cute photo booth picture with aimsey and billzo hugging ranboo? yeah you're in there too, wedged right between bill and ran

speaking of photos, they all treat you as their personal photographer

but dw!! they take lots of pictures of you too!!

i swear half of ran's camera roll is just you, they're your personal hype man

you need an insta picture? that man is on it

your lock screen is a picture of you and aimsey

you have sleepovers with him a LOT

cooking stream with billzo. spoiler: it Doesn't go Well.

remember the vlog that freddie and bill did together? you're in it, too

you did the irl you laugh you lose with tommy, tubbo, ranboo and all of them

there's compilations on youtube of you being chaotic with them

going shopping with aimsey and freddie

you were definitely part of the halloween stream

if you stream, they're always either raiding you, donating to you, or they're in your chat hyping you up!!

doing drinking streams with bill if you're of age

you were deffo in the tommy and ranboo sleepover vlog

for your birthday they throw you a giant surprise party and it's so sweet omfg

they make you a cake (but they actually put effort into this one lmao), there's drinks and snacks and they all get you gifts (some of them are gag gifts and some of them have lots of meaning)

you probably stream it on your channel, and you all play games like just dance and twister

tubbo's cooking show was meant to be jack and phil vs. you and freddie but you got sick so freddie was stuck with bill

freddie hated you for that /nsrs

but bill was so much chaos and contributed almost zero so freddie was like "y/n if you're watching this i hate you" and you just giggled from your bed at home

tubbo gets you on the next episode though!

at some point, you definitely move in with them. either you move in with bill or you move in with ranboo and freddie, i can see it going either way

movie nights with everyone

y'all rotate who gets to pick the movie

throwing popcorn and snuggling up on the couch

overall just them being the best friends you could ever ask for <3

i wish they were my friends oml

#mcyt #mcyts x reader #x reader #cricket crew #cricket crew x reader #platonic #ranboo #tubbo #aimsey #billzo #tommyinnit #ranboo x reader #tubbo x reader #aimsey x reader #billzo x reader #freddie badlinu #badlinu x reader #tommyinnit x reader

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vammieposts · 7 months ago

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I have a official dw celery lapel pin and i will wear it any chance i get. It’s very professional. It is now in the camera rolls of around twenty families for i was one with the crowd of accomplished students, failing to smile and showing off my very cool celery merch, wearing ridiculous clothes. Spreading my gay doctor who propaganda every chance i get :)

#doctor who #fifth doctor #celerly reigns supreme #all other fancy suit pins crumble under the weight of my wratha nd power

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svfttachi · 2 years ago

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when they come across a cat - hq boys

wc ━ 636

type ━ k. tetsurou x gn!reader, b. koutarou x gn!reader, k. kenma x gn!reader, o. tooru x gn!reader (separate)

tw ━ n/a

✎ i love my cat, and when i was watching him look out the window, i came up with this set of scenarios for our haikyuu boys. dw, i am still working on finishing the rest of the requests so i can open the ask box again. lmk if you want to see more though, and i hope you enjoy!

───── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────

➽ KUROO easily attracts cats anytime he walks or goes for jogs around the neighborhood. As a result, he carries treats in his pocket to feed the hungry felines. However, when he reached the front door of your shared home, Kuroo noticed a small, black kitten with bright, yellow eyes walking up to the porch ahead of him.

He couldn’t resist, so he picked up the cat and entered the house. When you looked up from the TV in your living room, you spotted your partner carefully walking up to you, and instantly, your eyes widened. Needless to say, the two of you kept the cat that oddly looked similar to a certain rooster-haired former middle blocker.

➽ BOKUTO would be the quietest he has ever been as he’s entering your shared home. You’re usually cooking dinner in the kitchen for when Bokuto comes back from his volleyball practice and are used to the boisterous sound of your partner entering the house.

However, when you heard the front door open and close with not even a single shout towards you, you turned curiously in that direction. Bokuto quietly greeted you as he entered the kitchen, carefully holding onto a tiny, tabby kitten. When you questioned your partner about the origins of the kitten, he told the story about how he found the kitten cuddling with his fresh, warm clothes in his gym bag. You looked down at the cat, and the multi-colored haired kitten stared at you with big, round, blue eyes. Just as you were about to make your decision, you looked up to find a matching set of eyes peering over at you. It’s very hard to say no to two pairs of cutesy eyes.

➽ KENMA was streaming when he spotted a feline from the corner of his brownish eyes. His window was open to allow some of the cold, night air in as he was streaming since it was hot in his office. Kenma had never expected to see a cat try to squeeze itself through the small opening between the window and the windowsill. He had to ask chat whether he should bring the cat inside, and a string of positive replies rolled down one of his monitors.

So, he proceeded to take his headset off and bring the cat inside of the office, showcasing it to the camera that was set up above his monitor. And, just like that, Kenma continued playing his game on stream with the kitten now comfortably sleeping in his lap. When his stream was over and you had come into his office, you were shocked to see a new member in the room. There were no words exchanged between you nor Kenma about the mutual agreement to keep the cat.

➽ OIKAWA had just escaped from the paparazzi and his screaming fans after he had won another game. It was a tradition for him to go to some restaurant near the arena he just played in to get some takeout for you and him to have dinner at home with. When he was coming out from the restaurant with the bagged food in his hand, Oikawa heard something messing around with objects in the alleyway next to the restaurant.

Curious, he walked into the alleyway, and immediately, his eyes landed on a tiny, tuxedo patterned kitten nibbling on a piece of raw, skinless fish. Oikawa carefully approached the little guy and began to untie the bag to feed him little pieces of the food he had ordered. The kitten would not stop rubbing against Oikawa’s feet and legs, so like many people, his hand reached down to pick up the cat. Needless to say, the conversation he had with you upon arriving home with a kitten was an interesting one, and thankfully, you were on board with keeping him.

───── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────

navigation ✧. ┊ ⁭gen. masterlist ✧. ┊ ⁭haikyuu!! writings

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unidentifiedlyingobject · 4 months ago

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look what i just got!!!!!

terrible photo cause i can't be fucked to move from my bed sorry lol

also dw about trevor the security camera guy or my shitty old fanart lol

AAAAGGGGHHHHH THAT'S SO COOL!!!!

also doctor who posters in the corner!!!!

wait I need to search through my camera roll I think I have a cool poster I want to show you ...

I found it!!

you know that sign in good omens hell

I printed it out and it's on my bookshelves!!! extremely blurry photo because it's in the corner of a photo I took ages ago and I am currently 808 km from my bedroom :P

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bunni-v1 · 3 months ago

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(Twenty) Nine Lives for Love

Chapter 4: Right. Prev Chapter\\Next Chapter m.list

Tw: Feelings; Crumbling relationships with parents (dw it'll be fineeeee)

Info: Kenma x Reader ; Kuroo and Reader; Kuroo is a wingman (bad at his job); Maki is still fat

Word Count: 5.3k 🍓Soooo, I finally had time to edit this (yay!) I was supposed to work on Curee but uhm... no! Kenma Kozume you will never ever want me the way I want you, but you take precedence!

Tag List: @angel-academia @bi-bi-papillon

By the time practice is out on Thursday, you have fully relaxed into your new routine at Nekoma. Walk to school with Kuroo and Kenma, attend class, eat lunch with Kenma (now featuring both Yamamoto and Fukunaga), head to practice, and then grab snacks from the convenience store after it's all done. It’s easy and much like your old one at Karasuno, so you get comfortable quickly, especially with how friendly and receptive the team has been to you.

As you approach your neighborhood today, Kuroo offers to let you come over for some of his gran's delicious sweetbread, but you decline. His disappointment makes you feel like you kicked a kitten, but you have prior commitments. So, you promise you’ll have the time another day, and he and Kenma wave you off.

As usual, your old man isn’t home when you get back. Never early, never late. Your school bag thumps to the floor as Maki greets you with excited chirps. You take the time to make sure she has food, sweep the floors, and do some other chores before heading up to your room for your final task of the day: Calling Noya and Tanaka. (Calling it a “task” was an exaggeration, you were excited to talk to them again.) It was an odd time to do so, but you promised them so you couldn’t back out now. You pull the laptop you’ve had since middle school out from your desk that you’ve had just as long, and nestle yourself into your pillows. Your Dad and your Mom (and your Stepdad) offered to get you a new one, but you can’t bring yourself to do it just yet. You’re too damn sappy. It whirrs to life, fans a bit too loud to be a good sign, and you’re greeted with a picture of yourself and Noya covered in mud and bruises.

It’s your favorite picture of you two together. Back when life was good and easy and all you were worried about was when the next volume of Shonen Jump was coming out and making sure you got the first spot in line for recess. Your mom took this picture, and you know it was her because she was the one who scolded the two of you for making such a mess of yourselves right before dinner. You briefly think about going through the other pictures on the clunky thing, but Skype pops up and starts chiming to remind you that had better things to do. You accept the call, immediately greeted by Tanaka’s awful posters of half-naked women behind his bald head and Noya squinting way too close to the camera to get a good look at said posters.

“Don’t look too hard, you’ll pop a blood vessel,” you say dryly.

“He’s popping something, that's for sure,” Tanaka responds smoothly – ironic coming from him.

“I am not!” He defends, then slowly adds, “...yet…”

You roll your eyes, “Both of you are nasty.”

“I didn’t even do anything!” Tanaka argues.

“It’s your poster you perv!” You shout back.

“Hey! Admiring beauty does not make me a pervert! In fact, you’re the perverted one for thinking like that.” He shoots back.

You scoff, crossing your arms haughtily, “Do your legs hurt from making that leap? If not, I can come back to Miyagi and break ‘em for ya.”

“Guys c’mon, we can try and kill each other later,” Noya says, somehow the voice of reason despite being the cause of the problem, and points accusingly at you (you think, because he’s just pointing at his computer screen), “You owe us a catch-up, Miss too-busy-to-text-my-best-friends.”

You sigh at Tanaka’s childish ‘yeah!’ holding your hands up in defeat. You had been busy with the team and adjusting, but in your defense, you were texting them! Just not as much as normal, not enough to give them a real run-down of your daily life – which was enough for their complaining to be reasonable. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. It’s not all that exciting like you’re thinking – not like that little redhead Tanaka’s been talking about, at least.”

Tanaka groans, whining about getting up early every day. He was just such a good senpai, helping his little freshmen train. Both you and Noya call him an idiot, which derails the conversation for a little while until Noya suddenly gains consciousness again and bitches at you to get on with it.

You proceed to tell them almost everything that’s happened in the past week so far. Kuroo and Kenma, managing the volleyball team, your classes, and of course giving them a much-needed Maki update after she trods herself up to your room. (Noya insists she got fatter, Tanaka thinks she’s slimmer, and you think you need to have a serious chat about the amount of treats your Dad is giving her). They’re very interested in the volleyball club, which was expected of them. You swear they have a volleyball instead of brains sometimes.

“So… you’re pretty much their manager,” Tanaka drawls, chewing loudly on some chips Saeko gave him earlier.

“It's not official yet.” You correct. You can feel Shimizu-Senpai’s ire from Miyagi already. You hope she can find someone to replace you this year. “Offical sign-ups for clubs start tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Noya hums, also munching on something bready that you can’t make out on his pixelated screen, “you’re gonna say yes, so why be so dodgy about it?”

You frown, evading your eyes, which tips both of your friends off that something is up. It’s not as if you didn’t want to say yes. Saying no to the position felt like a sin against every god you could name. There was just a little, tiny, itty bitty anxious part of you that was filled with what-ifs. What if you’re not good at it long term? What if the team was only tolerating you? What if it’s overstepping boundaries? What if you don’t have the time with classes?

“Oi!” Noya shouts, getting close to the camera again. If he were here he would probably grab you by the face and force you to look him in the eyes. That alone makes you slide your eyes back to the screen to look at his glare.

“Quit overthinking things,” Tanaka scolds – which feels wrong, considering he’s normally the one being yelled at. This whole friendship thing works both ways, you suppose.

“I know–” You try, but they aren’t having it this time.

“No! You’re gonna go to the sign-ups tomorrow,” Noya starts.

Tanaka continues, “You’re gonna… fill out those forms, or whatever!”

“Then you’re gonna give them to the coach right away. No ifs ands or buts.” Noya finishes, poking his camera for emphasis.

“Okay! Okay, I’m gonna say yes, I promise,” Shimizu-Senpai is out there somewhere, planning her revenge on you.

There's a nice lull in the conversation, and you think you almost got away with not talking about Kenma. You did try not to make a big deal out of him or Kuroo, but alas, Nishinoya Yuu and Tanaka Ryunosuke are not your best friends for no reason.

“Sooo,” Noya drawls, and you know what's coming, “tell us more about that Kenma guy~”

“Ugh, god, I knew you were gonna make a deal out of him.” You complain, visibly flustered.

“There is something up with him!” Tanaka declares, “Told’ja she was hiding something from us.”

“Nothing is up with him, okay? He’s just…” You struggle to put it into words. What is he? Nice was too mild. Amazing was too much.

“A total hottie?” (Tanaka.)

“The love of your life?” (Noya.)

Your idiots say at the same time, forcing a sigh past your lips, “No. He’s just… he’s right. You know? He’s right.”

“Right?” They say in sync, then nod as if they understand and repeat, “He’s right.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, a little weight lifted off your shoulders, “It’s like we were meant to meet. Everything is easy and comfortable. It’s… right.”

Then, when you feel like you have solved the puzzle, the dreaded question comes, from Tanaka of course, “Do you think he’s your soulmate?”

The weight is back, and your friends can tell from how quickly they try to backtrack, but you’d rather talk to them a little about it than shove it down.

“He doesn’t believe in soulmates. I think he thinks they’re silly,” you laugh dryly, chest aching, “besides, just because I click well with him doesn’t mean he’s my soulmate. I get along great with Kuroo too!”

“But it’s different with that Kenma guy,” Noya says simply, ripping apart any rationalization you’ve been able to do the past few days, “like you said, it feels right. He’s right.”

You think about it for a long moment, trying to find a good way around what he said. As usual, though, you just can’t beat Noya’s simple, straightforward logic. You can’t complicate something so incredibly uncomplicated.

“Even if he is my soulmate, which he probably isn’t, I won’t push it on him,” you respond, voice thoughtful and quiet, “He’s a friend first, and if he happens to be my soulmate, I don’t want to push him away with daydreams.”

That gets them to back off long enough that you can masterfully change subjects back to the new freshmen on Karasuno’s team. You take a stab at trying to convince Noya to rejoin, but as usual, he’s too stubborn to reason with. Talking with them, as always, is easy. It almost feels like you’re right there in the room with them, if it weren’t for the way Noya’s audio glitches every once in a while. You get so lost talking to them that, before you know it, it’s 8:30 and your Dad is shouting for you to come down to eat. You didn’t even hear him come home. He didn’t even bother saying hello.

With promises that you would text them more consistently, and that you’d definitely plan a trip to Miyagi over a break, you hang up the call and join your father for another tense dinner. Ever since you had accidentally ignored him on Tuesday, he’d been a bit distant. He was still warm and loving, but you could tell it seriously hurt him when you broke the routine. So, you’d been doing your best to keep everything as balanced as always. You chat about classes, practice, and the latest movies coming out. Nothing that could rock the boat, because it already had enough water in it, and you couldn’t afford it sinking.

Speaking of sunken ships, he mentions that your Mother and Stepdad wanted to come visit sometime. Which was fine with you, but you knew things were tense between the three of them, so you left the decision up to him. By the time you make it back up to your room, you want nothing more than to collapse and sleep for a million years so you don’t have to deal with the weirdness surrounding you and your dad.

It lingered around the house. In each dark corner where light doesn’t quite reach, each creak of its old bones, each awkward silence left in the still kind of strange-smelling air there is a discomforting reminder that things are not right with him. There is an ache in your muscles that you must fix it, and a stab to your stomach when you realize you don’t know how to. It makes you want to sleep forever; let your muscles relax for just a little bit.

Sleeping Beauty had it pretty good, you think. At least she had a prince waiting for her. All you had was a cat the size of a medium dog and two of the dumbest people you’d ever met a few hundred miles away. In a last-ditch effort to feel better, you slide the box labeled ‘textbooks’ out from under your bed and dig out the object of your desire. The studies of soulmates.

You’d managed to masterfully (sloppily) hide them from your dad. Thank god you have (had?) a good relationship, or else he might’ve gone through your room and found them already. With greedy fingers, you tug the only bookmarked one out from the bottom of the box, flipping it open with a big grin on your face. Reading about soulmates always made you feel better. Always.

This was volume three of six of the original set – your mother did not have the revised versions the author put out shortly before they had passed. Still, the first edition of the first two volumes was fascinating, if not for minor inaccuracies. Volume one covered entirely what soulmates are; who can be a soulmate; how the lifetimes of soulmates intertwine, and things along that line. Volume two discussed “the in-between”, the place between life and death. This volume you were on, however, discussed the process of discovering your soulmate.

You had read through the more… logistical parts of the book and were now on the part about the feelings. It was a short chapter, as far as you could tell, but it would be enough to maybe make you feel better. Grazing over the parts you’d already read, you quickly ended up back where you had left off. The spark.

“The ‘spark’ is not a concrete thing, nor is it entirely flexible. It occurs differently for every person and creature that may experience it, and yet there is one thing that is common among all described experiences. Without fail, all people who have experienced this ‘spark’ have a sense of intense familiarity regarding everything related to their soulmate. A sense of belonging within their other half’s social life. Family, friends, hobbies, pets, and everything in between seem to settle into place without any effort.”

You nod along to the words on your page, comprehending them as best as you can. You recalled Tanaka talking about something like that with Kiyoko, though you doubted it a bit at the time. You flipped the page, deciding it was best not to dwell on how ironically familiar this was all sounding. The next section covered several other facts about the connection between two soulmates, but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about that short but impactful paragraph.

You did not want to be dramatic, nor did you want to sound insane, but you had noticed a familiarity with Kenma. About… everything surrounding him. The way you felt like you’d found a missing puzzle piece beneath the foot of a table, one you’d long since given up looking for. Like you waited a whole lifetime to finally click into place with him. You’d only met him four days ago, though. You did not know him. Certainly not enough to be acting this delusional. He was right, though. (Your heart insists it, loud and clanging like church bells in your steeple of a chest).

You try for a little longer to read the text, but it all blurs together with the rampant thoughts of hope singing in your brain. You growl at yourself, slamming the book shut and shoving it back under the bed in the box. (Maki startles, yowling and flying across the room in fear, though you don’t pay her any mind.) You’d only managed to make things worse by thinking about Kenma. He was not your soulmate, and even if he was he didn’t believe they existed. That shuts down any chance of this wild pipe dream coming true – NOT that you had any intention of chasing it in the first place. Hell, you hardly believed it. It would be too easy. Too simple. Too convenient. That is not how the universe was and you knew better than to fool yourself into thinking that.

With nothing but anger and annoyance left in the place of energy, you grumpily toss on your pajamas and decide to call it a night. Maki crawled up into bed – hesitantly like you might throw her next – and curled against your side. Tomorrow would come fast, and you’d be able to forget about your stupid thoughts in the morning. That's what you kept repeating in your head to stop your mind from drifting again.

.·:*˚¨¨ ≈★≈ ¨¨˚*:·.

You do not sleep well, and because of this, you manage to sleep in nearly too late. You miss seeing your Dad off, and you hardly have enough time to get changed, let alone eat before you are flying out the front door. You hope Kenma and Kuroo are waiting for you, though you wouldn’t blame them for ditching. Just because you’re late doesn’t mean they have to be. Lucky you, they are good friends, and they’re awaiting your arrival patiently at your front gate.

“Sorry, I’m late!” You apologize, still hopping into your shoes as you exit the front gate, “Just couldn’t get up this morning!”

Kuroo shrugs your worries off, “Just means we won’t have time to stop at the vending machine.”

Kenma busies himself with straightening out your hair, a habit that he’d started after the head pat incident. It makes your cheeks flush with heat, but neither of you bother to acknowledge it, and luckily Kuroo doesn’t care either. “Means we don’t have to deal with Yamamoto this morning.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll find a way to be a problem,” You laugh, Kenma sighs, and then you remember something you’d been meaning to ask, “Oh! Wait, before we go! Which houses are yours?”

They both give you odd looks, like you should know by now, but… you don’t. You give them an awkward shrug, and they return the gesture, letting it roll off their shoulders.

“Mine is the kinda misshapen grey one over there, and Kenma’s is–” Kuroo explains.

“It’s that one,” Kenma cuts off, pointing to the one neighboring Kuroo’s. They’re both across the street just three houses down. No wonder they gave you weird looks, you totally should’ve figured that out, especially with their names on them.

Kenma’s is shorter than Kuroo’s, which makes it stick out a little amongst the other houses. It’s an off-white color with brown trimming, simple but inviting. You feel like you’ve seen it before. Like you’ve walked up its cobblestone path and right through its front door. That was impossible, you think as you turn on your heel, you’d never been to Kenma’s house.

“Boy, do I look stupid,” you laugh, leading the way so you can get to class on time.

“You always go in right away,” Kuroo dismisses, “I wouldn’t’ve put it together either.”

“Our names are on the front gates,” Kenma mutters, ending the conversation, still lost in his PS Vita as usual. You wonder what he was playing… you peek over his shoulder, and he leans in closer to let you see. Oh, it was one of those Persona games. You watch him play with interest for a while, maybe you should get into the franchise. It was visually pleasing, and the gameplay looked fun. Despite your best efforts to distract yourself with his game, your mind still wanders back to the houses. That sense of Deja Vu was hard to ignore.

“Y’know,” you announce suddenly, “Your houses are kinda… familiar? When I was looking at Kenma’s, I felt like I’d already gone through the whole place. Isn’t that odd?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo echos, “maybe you have prophetic dreams of house tours.”

You scoff, readying a comeback, but notice Kenma has this kind of quiet look on his face. Like he wants to say something, but he isn’t sure if he should say it. They’re common from him, especially around you. Normally Kuroo would be the one to poke at him, but since you’re already close, you give him a little nudge, “What’s on your mind, Kenma?”

He frowns a little, hesitant as he answers, “I feel the same way about your place.”

“Oh?” Is all you can manage, and you hope you don’t look as stupid as you sound.

His eyes are fixated on the game, though he isn’t doing anything in it anymore, and he nods, “Yeah. When I first came to pick you up, I got this feeling like I’d been there before. For reasons other than visiting the Shirashi’s with my parents, if that makes sense.”

You try to crush the glimmering hope in your chest. You were not thinking about soulmate stuff today. You told yourself today was a no soulmate talk kind of day and you meant it. (If you didn’t want Kenma to know how deeply your adoration for the concept ran, that would be humiliating.)

“Oooo~ Maybe you two are soulmates!” Kuroo purrs, shattering any thought of ‘no soulmates.’

You huff, face heating up. Dammit Kuroo Tetsurou, did he have it out for you or something? You brace yourself for his adamant denial, but it doesn’t come. You realize then his ears are bright red and– oh my god, he’s so cute when he’s embarrassed. Wait. Why was he embarrassed?

You curse Kuroo out in your head, but just as fast as he brought this curse upon you, he remedied it with smooth words and quick thinking. “Just kidding! I know Kenma doesn’t believe in that kinda thing.”

“It’s not–” Kenma starts, clearly more bothered than he expected himself to be. He takes a deep breath, then tries again, “I don’t not believe in them, I just don’t… It’s too romantic to accept that they’re real. Waiting lifetime after lifetime for one person? Too dramatic for real life.”

You couldn’t argue with that. It was the same idea your Dad had about them, but he was more bitter about it. If you were a different person with a different Mom and a different childhood, you’d probably think the same way.

“That’s what makes them so nice though, right?” Kuroo argues, “Someone out there that was made just for you? Sign me up!”

“Exactly,” you accidentally say out loud, and the three of you are finally approaching the front gates of Nekoma High. Looks like you’re failing at the no soulmates thing. “I mean… maybe they aren’t real and I’m just being childish, but… someone who just understands me effortlessly sounds nice. Logical or not.”

“Logic is what makes sense of everything,” Kenma counters, “Without it, we wouldn’t understand anything.”

“Yeah, and that's all good and fine, but emotions aren’t logical. The way we feel doesn’t make any sense most of the time, so why would eternal love be any different?” You ask aloud.

“Bingo.” Kuroo punctuated with two finger guns pointed your way. “Not everything has to make sense, and not everything will. Soulmates are just one of those things that you’ve gotta have trust in your feelings for.”

Kenma doesn’t say anything as the three of you make your way up the stairs, the five-minute bell chiming at a higher pitch than the ten-minute overhead. You want to apologize, but Kuroo shoots you a hidden thumbs up to assure you, so you don’t. Kenma is tense for the rest of the day. Quiet and thoughtful, though he still takes the time to talk to you. It leaves you feeling all warm inside that he would account for you, despite what’s happening in his head.

During lunch, he doesn’t pull out his PS Vita like he usually does, which Fukunaga points out as strange. Kenma says the battery is low, but you know it’s not because it was at full charge when you peaked at it this morning. Yamamoto is also late, which you know Kenma is more than happy for, but you can’t help but worry. What if he doesn’t eat? How horrible! He’s an athlete, he needs to eat a lot to stay strong and healthy. (It’s nice to be distracted from your worry over Kenma.)

Your worries are squashed when he bursts through the door of your classroom, scaring several unsuspecting students with his heavy panting. Was he sweating? Did he run here? From where? His aura is intense as he approaches you, face hardened into a determined glare. If you hadn’t taken time to get to know him, you’d think he was trying to kill you. He stops right in front of you, the toes of his shoes almost touching yours. He shoves something in your face, not a knife (thank god), but a flimsy sheet of paper.

The three of you give him an odd look, wordlessly asking what his issue was, but he waggles the paper. You take it, careful to avoid brushing your fingers with him, and read over it. It was… an application for managing sports teams… Most of it was already filled out in messy handwriting. You grin, looking back up at the incredibly red Yamamoto.

Fukunaga grabs for it, and you let him take it with no resistance. He laughs as he reads it, and finally, Kenma grabs it. Instead of amusement, which you didn’t expect in the first place, he’s… annoyed. He glares at the paper like it’s personally offended him. You try and pretend not to see it, though it does make your heart ache a little. (Does he not want you to sign up? He was the first person who asked, so what’s his deal?)

“I realized you hadn’t applied officially to be our manager, and I thought I’d give you a headstart,” Yamamoto admits awkwardly as the paper finally makes its way back into your hands, “Most of it should be filled out.”

You smile at the paper, “This is sweet Yamamoto, thanks. I was planning on signing up at the activities fair, but I guess this saves me the trouble, huh?”

“You can give that to coach at the fair,” Fukunaga explains, “It’s the easiest way to apply and should guarantee your spot. Not that we were expecting any applications outside of you in the first place.”

“Just trying to play it safe,” Yamamoto defends, “don’t wanna lose her right as she settles in.”

“Thanks, guys,” you say with a big grin, “I’ll finish it up, then we can walk together to get it turned in?”

Fukunaga gives you a quiet thumbs up, while Yamamoto yells his acceptance, earning glares from the other students situated around the room. You glance to Kenma for his approval, but he’s too busy thinking again. You shrug it off because if you think too hard about it, you’ll worry.

.·:*˚¨¨ ≈★≈ ¨¨˚*:·.

Practice is canceled for the day thanks to the activities fair. Kuroo, Nobuyuki, and Coach Nekomata are all going to be promoting the volleyball club, so there’s no real reason to go. As promised, you and a still pensive Kenma wait patiently for Fukunaga and Yamamoto in your classroom. You’d been able to avoid how uncomfortable Kenma’s silence had made you all day because you’d had other things to do. Yamamoto even noticed though he had no idea what his deal was. Now that it was just you and him… well, you can’t avoid it.

“Okay,” you announce, pressing your palms flat on his desk, “time to fess up. What’re you thinking about so intensely?”

He blinks at you, surprised, then he shifts his gaze to the chalkboard behind you, “Was it that obvious?”

“You lied about your PS being dead,” you put plainly, “that’s super weird.”

He lets out a breath, and then shrugs in defeat, “I was just thinking about the stuff from this morning.”

Your head tilts a little, “What? The house stuff?”

“The soulmate stuff. Why would I be thinking about the house stuff?” He snarks, pulling back a little when you laugh.

“That makes a lot more sense,” you giggle, and he rolls his eyes in what you think is a playful manner (playful for him, at least), “I’m sorry if what I said bothered you. I get that it can sound… insane… if you don’t believe in them.”

He shrugs, eyes still avoiding yours. You appreciate it a little. You think if he looks at you, you’ll do something stupid.

“I played a game about soulmates once,” he mumbles, leaning back to glare at the ceiling. You lean forward, resting on your arms now. “It was cute, really romantic. You played as each partner and helped them navigate through their lives. There were a bunch of close calls where they almost met, but something always messes up and keeps them apart in every life. Then, at the end of the game, they finally meet, and it ends when they realize.”

“That is cute.” You hum attentively.

His head shoots up looking at you with an unreadable expression, “It was scary.”

You blink at him, and without meaning to, you laugh a little, “What? You just described a romance novel and you found it… scary?”

He huffs, “It’s not the romance stuff, it’s the ending.”

“What’s so scary about soulmates meeting?” You say incredulous.

“It ends,” He states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, “everyone talks about soulmates like they’re the final destination. The story‘s over once you meet them. It’s awful. Immediate game over.”

You scoff, “Ken,” The nickname is so natural it makes you sick, “Meeting your soulmate isn’t the end, it’s the beginning.”

It’s his turn to blink at you, head tilting curiously. It makes you smile, and without thinking you grab his hands and squeeze them. It’s a comforting gesture your Mom always did when you were confused or upset or anything other than happy. You think he could use it too. He stares at where they connect with wide eyes, and his ears burn red again.

“Sure, you spent like a gazillion lives trying to find that one person, but when you find them…” you try hard to remember how Noya’s Gramps put it, then try to translate that to something he can understand “It’s like you defeated a final boss, and the huge XP boost it gives you allows your character to level up into a new class type. Does that make sense? I don’t play a lot of RPGs.”

At some point during your explanation he affixed his gaze on you, intense eyes practically drinking in all of your features like it was the first time he’d seen you. It makes your stomach flip, especially when he squeezes your hands back. “Close enough.” That is all he says, and it's the only indication that you might’ve gotten through to him. The two of you sit and stare at each other for a good long moment, unsure of what you should say – if you even should speak.

“Ooo, are we interrupting something?” A playful voice sounds from the doorway. Both of your heads whip around to see who it is, and you grin, thanking the universe for Morisuke’s abrasiveness. You might’ve kissed Kenma if it weren’t for him. (Did you really just admit that to yourself?)

Kenma pulls away first and quickly busies himself with packing away his things. You smile at him, then stand and toss your bag over your shoulder. “We were just talking. What are you doing here Morisuke-Senpai?”

“I heard about Yamamoto’s scheming, so I figured I might as well be a part of it too,” He snickers.

“It wasn’t scheming! It was… tactical coercion.” Yamamoto defends.

“That sounds worse,” Fukunaga comments candidly.

“Really?” Yamamoto squeals.

You huff a laugh out of your nose, walking up to them with Kenma at your side. “You guys are too loud,” He complains.

You ruffle his hair to appease him, which seems to work like a charm. You ignore how shocked his friends seem at it, “Let's go get this turned in. I can’t wait to officially be your manager!”

A chorus of cheers (followed by a groan) comes from the boys around you, and you lead the way through the halls until you realize you don’t know where you’re going, then Morisuke leads the way. With promises of celebratory pork buns, you all pick up the pace, though you let yourself fall back a little to keep Kenma company as the other three glavant forward.

You look at the piece of paper in your hands, a mix of Yamamoto’s handwriting and yours. Then your eyes drift over the three boys and finally land on Kenma. For once, he’s already looking at you. You give him a grin, and he smiles a little back.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kenma x reader #kozume kenma #kenma #kuroo tetsurou #nishinoya yuu #tanaka ryuunosuke #x reader #(Twenty) Nine Lives for Love

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