#i started sending in a ticket a day

[cleveradjacent]

i lived bitch

hey! i finally annoyed tumblr into resurrecting my blog. in the meantime, i set up a backup: @clever-adjacent. follow it if you don't wanna lose me should this happen again!

[starryarles]

i kind of,, almost ghosted him

[kuntakoochie]

im glad mediocre white people can get roles handed to them left and right but i have to work 10x as hard to even get a smidgen of what they got and still get rejected <3

[cubot]

So sleepy, so comfortable. I feel like I'm forgetting something really important........................... Hrmpgh. I'm going to watch youtube and then read comics in bed until I pass out.

[myheroesfading]

x

[alastor-simp]

Alastor x Reader - Sleeping On His Lap

Here is my attempt at a Alastor x reader fanfiction. Took me awhile to kinda get into his character so please don't be mad if Alastor seems a bit off. Enjoy!

Sigh, it was another eventful day at the Happy Hotel, or Hazbin Hotel as it was now called as a certain deer demon decided to change the name. You had spent all day doing certain tasks around the hotel such as helping Charlie create posters for the hotel, clean the rooms with Nifty, break up the brawl between Vaggie and Angel Dust as he had pissed her off one too many times and organize the bar for Husk as he was passed out drunk. You could have refused to do these things, but you enjoyed helping people, so it made it all worth it.

You had started working at the hotel after you had saw Charlie singing on the 666 news about the hotel and redeeming demons, only for her idea to be made a laughing stock upon everyone who watched the broadcast. You actually had mixed feelings about the whole redeeming thing, seeing as you weren't sure if someone like you could be sent to heaven, despite not being a very big criminal during your time when you were alive, but apparently doing a little shoplifting is enough to send you a one way ticket to hell. Charlie's words did inspire you a little bit, so even if you felt that you couldn't be redeemed, others probably had a better chance, so you decided to head to the hotel and ask for a job after the broadcast was cut off from the brawl with Charlie and Katie Killjoy. You were hired in a split second and immediately pulled into a bear hug by Charlie, and then introduced you to the others.

Back to the present, you began to feel extremely exhausted from moving around everywhere, so you headed over to one of the rooms with the long couches so you could take a rest. Heading into one of the rooms, you peeped around and saw that no one was there, which made it better as you really needed some peace and quiet. Heaving a deep sigh, you sat down on the couch, turning and falling back, as you laid your body down, with your head facing the front of the couch. "What a long day", thinking to yourself as your eyes slowly began to close and you were lulled into a deep sleep.

**2 Hours Later**

As you were sleeping, you felt the sensation of someone petting your head, the soothing feeling had awoken you a bit, but you quickly fell back asleep at the warm touch. You could feel that you were holding something in your dreams, and you assumed it was one of the pillows on the couch, so you brought it closer to your face and nuzzled it. "Mm, smells nice ", as the scent from the pillow was making you more relaxed, as it reminded you of a being in the middle of a deep forest. After sleeping for 30 more minutes, you slowly began to open your eyes, and try to make out what was in front of you. Expecting to see a pillow, you saw red stripes in front of you, "Huh?" As you were still trying to make out what was in front of you, a loud voice interrupted your thoughts: "Ah, awake now are we?", said a static voice above you. Eyes opening wide, you looked up from your position and saw Alastor staring down at you with his trademark smile. Slowly, you began to piece together that you were laying on his lap, and nuzzled into his chest as you were sleeping. "AHHHH", jumping up from your position, you rolled off his lap, and your body fell to the ground as you stared at Alastor in shock, as he continued to look at you with his glowing eyes, amused at your reaction. "Um, h-how long was I sleeping on your lap?", you softly asked, as your face was red, but your eyes were showing fear, as you remembered that Alastor did not like to be touch, and you happened to hug him in your sleep. "HAHA, For quite a while, darling. It was a very busy day, I assume?", Alastor said as he placed his arm on the armrest of the couch, and his hand against his cheek, smiling even wider.

Nodding your head, you slowly got up from your position, and started apologizing to Alastor, eyes aiming towards the ground and fingers twiddling together. Alastor raised an eyebrow and wondered why you were apologizing, to which you answered that you had hugged him in your sleep, and that he made it very aware that he did not enjoy physical contact from someone unless he initiated it, feeling extremely bad if you made him uncomfortable. Listening to you, Alastor's smile relaxed to a small grin as he looked at you with gentle eyes. He did admit that he was not use to being touch by others, and was quite surprised from the sleep hug, but he didn't detest it as much coming from you, which boggled his mind completely. It must be due to your kind and innocent nature that made him react different around you, as he was used to more of the common riff raff being terrified of him or trying to battle in a turf war, but how you were with him, made his black heart melt.

Feeling that Alastor was upset as he didn't respond to your apology, you quickly excused yourself and began to head over to the door to leave. A loud SNAP was heard and before you knew it, you had been teleported back on to the couch, this time being seated on Alastors lap. "A-Al, what are you doing?!", your face began to become as red as his hair, while your eyes stared at Alastor in shock. Smiling at you, Alastor moved his hand to your chin and tilted your face up: "There is no need to apologize, darling. If I had been upset about you hugging me, you possibly w̩͉͍̱̍̂̉̊o̫̼̐̎̋͜u͚͌l̳̓d̠͉̗͋̔͞'̼̳̣̼͊̏̾̾t͜͝ ͕̱͐͠ḇ̅e̙͗ ͍͓͔̱͍͛̔͌͘͞a̝̜̘̎́͒ḽ͒í̱̙̈́v̧̌e̠͠ ̢̹̜́́̈̀ͅr̲͇̳̅̽͌i̩͈̒̅ĝ̲̦̎ẖ̛̳̲͙̀͌̽͘ͅt͉̅ ͖̞͍̞́̋͛͛ň͚̫̦́͂̿͟o̱͌w̡̕" he said, as his eyes flashed for a second into radio dials. "However! I am not opposed to be touched by you. So no need to apologize, my dear.", Alastor said as he continued to smile at you widely, but his glowing eyes were looking at you softly, letting you know that he was not angry with you. Feeling shy, you turned your head away from Alastor, muttering a soft okay, as your heart was beating rapidly. "Smile my dear!" Alastor said as he moved his hand from your chin to your cheek, to have you look at him again. Baring through the embarrassing situation, you gave Al a small smile, which pleased him. "You always over do it, darling. While Charlie and I appreciate your efforts at helping the hotel, it does no good to work yourself to the point of fatigue. If you are ever feeling exhausted and need a break, don't be hesitant to come find me, as my radio tower is open to you. Understand, my dear?" said Alastor, as he leaned closer towards you, making you flustered again.

Nodding your head was enough to let Alastor knew you understood as he chuckled, while sliding you off his lap, and as he stood up from the couch. "Now then, we should probably head back to the lobby before the others get worried about our lack of presence.", He said, as he straighten his coat out, while turning towards you, extending his hand out for you to take it. "Yeah we should", as you grabbed his hand, and made your way with him back to the lobby. You were still trying to process what just happened between you and Alastor, but you feel like you both have become much closer then before, and you didn't mind it one bit.

[moonstruckme]

would you write a part two to whimsy!reader totally knowing remus’ secret? i feel like r would be so sweet and casual about it that remus would cry

Thanks for requesting!

cw: post-moon werewolf Remus, mention of blood and wounds (no description)

poly!marauders x whimsical!reader ♡ 1.4k words

The boys usually send you away this time of month. They try to be subtle about it, encouraging you to go visit your family or sleep over at a friend’s house, but you’re not one to let the full moon pass you by without notice. It didn’t take long for the pattern to reveal itself. 

Still, you don’t argue when James gifts you tickets for you and a friend to see a band you like out of town. You know they’re all most comfortable doing things the way they always have, and you worry that letting slip what you know would do more harm than good; Remus would be anxious and upset, and the other boys would only be doing more damage control than they’re used to with you around. So, you let the full moon pass you by without complaint. 

The next day, however, when you know James and Sirius will have gone to work and left Remus to rest and heal, you sneak into your apartment. 

The fact of Remus’ ailing is immediately obvious; the boys’ things are strewn all over the place, evidence of James’ and Sirius’ running about without Remus to pick up after them. There’s a pot of half-eaten stew that’s been left to cool and congeal on the stove, an abandoned roll of bandages on the coffee table, and the entire apartment smells like disinfectant and heartache. 

When you find Remus in the bedroom, your heart aches, too. He’s sleeping, but even in rest his face is pinched with discomfort, and there are several bandages visible above where the bedsheets rest halfway up his torso. It’s about what you expected, but it still makes your eyes burn. 

You try to let him sleep as long as possible, working with the environment first. You open a few windows to get out the smell and let in the new day, clean the common spaces, start your lavender incense burning in the bedroom. You’re brewing tea when Remus pads into the kitchen, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. 

“Oh.” He startles to see you. “You’re back.” 

You’re startled, too. “Hi, I’m sorry,” you say, hurrying over to the windows to shut them. “Did I wake you? Is it too cold in here?” 

“No.” Remus looks wary, watching you flit about the living room like he’s not sure he’s actually woken up. “It’s nice. When did you get home?” 

“Just this morning. I didn’t see the sense in staying another night, and anyway I wanted to be with you.” You make your way back around the room to him, taking his jaw gently in your hand. His skin is warm to the touch. “How are you feeling, lovely?” 

You feel more than see Remus’ face tighten. “I’m alright. How are you?” 

You let him go, giving him a small smile. “Better now that I’m back with you, thanks for asking.” You go back to the stove to stir your pot. “If you’re warm, you don’t need to keep that blanket on for me. I’ve already seen the bandages.” 

You hear his quiet intake of breath, and then a few moments later the sound of the blanket dropping to the floor. 

“Are you in the mood for some tea?” you ask without turning around. “If you want to get back in bed, I could bring it to you there. I don’t imagine standing is very kind to your legs right now.” 

You’ve been reading up on wolf versus human anatomy. If Remus’ transformations work the way you think they do, the bones in his heels and legs would have to either break or otherwise shorten and elongate to create the legs a wolf needs; you can’t imagine it’s a painless process, or that he’s not still feeling the effects of it now, so soon after the moon.

For a dense handful of moments, Remus lingers on the edge of the kitchen. But soon you hear his footsteps, heavier than usual in a way that makes your stomach hurt, go back towards the bedroom. You finish making his tea and bring it to him with a few pieces of his chocolate. 

He’s sitting up at the edge of the bed, propped up on pillows and watching the smoke curl up from your incense with a haunted look in his eyes. 

“Hi,” you say softly. He accepts the tea and chocolate with a quiet thanks. “Do you think it might help things if I opened the curtains? Some sunlight might be good for you.” 

Remus hums his assent. Everything becomes crisper once you let the light in. Remus’ dark circles and the blood visible through his bandages, but also the healthy flush to his cheeks and the strength of his body beneath the dressings. 

“What is this?” Remus asks you, sipping his tea. 

“Bay leaves. It’s for pain relief. It helps more if you put it directly on the wounds, but I didn’t think you’d want to mess with your dressings any more.” 

He nods. Sighs. “Come here, dove. Come sit.” 

You’re eager to comply. You round the bed to avoid crawling over him, settling against the pillows beside your boyfriend with your shoulder touching his. A support, if he needs it. 

“What’s the incense for?” he asks. 

“It’s lavender. It’s also good for pain, but I thought it might help you sleep as well.” 

Remus nods again. He turns to you, his eyes some mixture of distressed and resigned. “Why are you doing all of this?” he asks. “Why did you come home?” 

“Remus,” you say gently, “we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.” 

His brows hook in the middle, a small crumbling. “But you know already.” 

You cradle his face in your hand. Your voice is soft. “Yeah.” 

You pull Remus towards your chest when he starts weeping. He dampens your shirt while you comb your fingers through the hair at his nape, saying nothing. Steam wafts up from his tea until it doesn’t, but that’s okay; you’ll make him another cup when he’s ready. 

James and Sirius are surprised to find you when they come home. 

“Angel—” 

“Shh.” You cover one of Remus’ ears with your hand, his head in your lap. “He’s hardly slept all day.” 

James lowers his voice, setting his bag down on the floor. “When did you get here?” 

“This morning.” 

“But you were supposed to be away until tomorrow afternoon.” Sirius climbs up onto the bed. His expression goes tender as he looks down upon Remus’ sleeping face, and the kiss he presses to your lips is gentle.

You card your hand through Remus’ hair. “I didn’t want to be away from him,” you admit softly. “I understand why you want to do things without me on the night it happens, but I’d like to help before and afterwards at least.” 

Sirius’ brow pinches, his eyes narrowing cautiously. 

“When what happens?” James asks you. 

You speak softly, not wanting the words to potentially agitate Remus in his sleep. “The transformation.” 

There’s a thick pause. 

“Who told you?” Sirius asks. 

“No one had to tell me.” 

There’s a quiet chuckle from the end of the bed. James kicks his shoes off, crawling up the covers to meet you. “I told you she knew.” He gives you a kiss, soft and syrupy sweet. “Thanks for looking after him for us, sweetheart.” 

Remus grunts, coming awake. “James,” he groans. “Your knee is on my leg.” 

“Oh. Sorry, love.” James moves, then bends down to give Remus a kiss of his own. “Did our angel take good care of you today?” 

“Better than this.” 

“That’s the moon talking,” Sirius says flippantly, though the hand he uses to rub Remus’ shoulder is exceedingly gentle. “That’s something you’ll learn as we go along, gorgeous. He loves us, really.” 

You feel your brows pinch. “I thought he was as nice as always today.” 

“Wonder why,” Remus mutters, but the look he gives Sirius is teasing. 

James gives Remus another kiss, standing. “I’ll get you some of your soup.” 

“Oh, I…” You give him a sheepish look. “I washed that down the sink. It got left out, the meat was bad. There’s tea on the stove that should help him heal faster, though, if you want to get some of that.” 

James and Sirius stare at you. 

“Seems like we should’ve brought you in on this a lot sooner,” Sirius says after a moment. 

You shrug. Remus mumbles something that sounds like agreement.

[no-144444]

the break up of the century - (l.norris, no 4)

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pairing: lando norris (no.4) x fem! singer! reader

summary: you and lando break up on horrible terms, can a new album and a special performance bring you back together? is that even what you two want?

7.6k + words, brief fade-to-black smut, fluff, mainly angst :)

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You weren’t sure how it happened, one moment you were on stage, the next, you were crying in your dressing room, hating every single thing about your life. Funny how one moment leads into the next, right? 

Y/n Y/l/n. Household name at the age of 19. Now, 23. Fans impatiently awaiting your next album, the album you hated, and now on a world tour that is sucking the life from your body. 

Sounds like you have it all. 

The money, the fame, the clothes, the boys, the voice. It’s all you’ve ever dreamed of. And now it means nothing, because you have it. And it’s nowhere near as good as you wanted it to be.

You’d always been told of the horror stories of fame taking more than it gave, and you always brushed it off with a smile and a ‘that’ll never happen to me’. Low and behold, you’ve had 4 stalkers in 2 years, 3 lawsuits against you from old record companies that dropped you, 2 grammys, and 1 ridiculously public break-up with he-who-shall-not-be-named. 

Having it all really means having too much to think about, and too much to deal with. You would’ve preferred to just go to university like all your friends. Be young. Make mistakes. But those were luxuries you took for granted, and now you’re paying the price. 

“Y/n?” Sasha, your manager called from outside. “We have the meet and greet.”

And then there was your fans. They were great, obviously, but they were also very hyper teenagers and young adults that paid a lot of money to see you, and it made you feel even worse about not being 100%. At least you’d cut ticket prices down by 50% in meetings, meaning they were much cheaper than any other artist at the moment. At least you could do that for your fans. 

You nodded, sniffling as you wiped your eyes on the sleeve of your dress. 

“Do you need your makeup touched up?”

“Yes,” you answered, voice hoarse. “How many more shows?” 

“This was your 97th. You have 53 left.”

“Fuck!” You groaned. “Fuck this.”

“You have the British Gran Prix tomorrow, you have to make an appearance, alright? I’m sending Maria in to fix your makeup,” Sasha was trying to pity you, but she also had a job to do, which you understood. 

“Thanks Sash,” you sighed as Maria came in. 

“Hey babe,” she smiled softly, sympathy and pity shown in her eyes. 

“Hi,” you sniffled, wiping your last tear away. 

“Let’s get you fixed up, yeah?” She started unpacking her bag with all your makeup as you nodded, turning to face her. “You’re amazing. You were so pretty tonight.”

You somehow didn’t scoff in her face. “Thanks.”

“I know you don’t believe me,” she sighed. “I can’t even understand why. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You hiccupped, the tears threatening to pour again as you thought about him. 

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

Stop thinking about him. You told yourself. He’s in the past.

But he wasn’t in the past, how could he be when he was always on your fucking feed with his new girlfriend. Allison and Lando, what a beautiful couple. More like a bunch of crap. They weren’t real, everyone knew it was just pr, especially considering that she was promoting her new racing movie. You had no idea why they even tried to keep up the charade. They didn’t even look good together. 

Alas, they were together, and you weren’t anymore. 

And you were going to be reminded of it every single second of the next day. 

----------------

You pressed your entry card to the barrier and walked through as cameras flashed and you smiled one of your best fake smiles.

“Y/n!” Oscar smiled, walking up and hugging you. You knew everyone, and you started to feel embarrassed about everything. This was his workplace, and you had to be here to do press and sing a song you didn’t want to sing.

Bullshit.

“Hey Osc,” you smiled, hugging him back. 

“You look so wonderful today,” he smiled, taking your hand instead. He led you to the McLaren paddock as you two chatted about tour and races. You asked about Miami, and Oscar answered. “It was the best day of his life- his words!” 

“Meeting you was the best day of my life. That’ll never change.”

Oh. I guess it changed. 

“How's the tour? It looks amazing!” He cheered as you two entered the paddock. Mechanics and engineers greeting and hugging you as you went through and lied about how ‘amazing’ the tour is. 

“Y/n!” Zak cheered. “My favourite girl!”

He pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, and you hugged back. It felt good to be back, and to still have so many people still like you. “Hi Zak.”

“I missed you so much! Please tell me that awful Allison girl is gone and you and Lan are back? She’s driving me crazy,” he scoffed.

“No, I’m just here to do some press with Ferrari,” you chuckled. “But I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to come see my favourite CEO.”

He sighed but nodded, knowing that Lando had the board cut you off the ‘influencer list’ when you two broke up. “Well, once you know that you’re my favourite.”

“You’re my favourite too,” you smiled. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Lips are sealed,” he smiled and moved on, going about his various duties. For a moment you looked around the paddock you had known so well and felt your heart ache a little. You loved Lando, you still loved Lando. You loved McLaren, and you loved the people here, yet you didn’t get to see them anymore because of the stupid fucking tour. This tour was ruining your life. You didn’t talk to family, or friends, you and Lando had broken up, you weren’t eating or sleeping, you always felt sick, you were rarely allowed to speak during the day so you could ‘conserve’ your voice for shows. 

But the worst part was that nobody noticed. 

“He's right y’know,” Oscar  smiled. “We all miss you. Even Lando.”

“Lando is with Allison. He has no reason to miss me.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “All they do is fight.”

“So? That’s what Lando and I did for weeks.”

“But it was different. You two were in a bad situation, but you loved each other, so the fights meant something. Allison and Lan are just wrong for each other, they’re fighting to fight.”

You groaned, sitting on the bench and resting your head in your hands. “When did you become a philosopher?”

Oscar laughed, and placed a hand on your back. “I’ve always been this philosophical, you were just too busy to notice.” 

“Shut up,” you chuckled, pushing him off. 

“All I’m saying is that you should talk to him, that’s all,” he shrugged, walking away from you and further into the paddock. 

“Y/n.”

Your head snapped up, so hard it hurt. There he was. Lando. For the first time in months. With Allison. And a dog.

Oh. 

“Hi,” you smiled, standing up. It was a puppy, a jack-russell terrier, the kind you’d always wanted. The kind like your childhood dog. Great, now they stole your dog breed. “Nice to see you.”

“I didn’t know you would be here,” he said bluntly. “What are you doing here?”

“Press for Ferrari. Oscar just… brought me in to say hi to everyone. So, hi. And now I’ll take my leave,” you smiled, then started to try and walk off. But Allison clearly had other plans, since she stuck out her hand for a ‘handshake’ that conveniently stopped you from walking off. 

“Allison,” she smirked. “And this is Mila.”

You stared blankly at Lando for a moment. Seriously? He’d taken the dog breed and what you’d agreed to be the name of your first child? Give me a break. 

“Y/n,” you shook her hand. “And I have to go, bye and good luck today.”

Thank god Ferrari was on the other side of the fucking track. 

“Y/n!” Charles cheered, hugging you close. You’d been getting closer with Charles since your split with Lando and his split with his ex had happened within a week of each other. “How are you?”

You took a deep breath. “I’m fine, tired.”

“I have been seeing the tour, it looks great!” he smiled, pulling back. 

“Thanks Charles, it was amazing to see you, but I better go. I have to-”

“Sing the new song? Yes! I can't wait,” he cheered. You mustered up a small smile, and left him alone. 

----------------

Sasha came and found you in the bathroom an hour later. “Y/n?” She was frantic, and stressed, so you just decided to give up and show yourself. 

“Yeah?”

“It’s time, come on,” she sighed. “I know this is hard-”

“How could you know it’s fucking hard? My entire life is in shambles and I’m supposed to be happy about it because I’m a ‘superstar’ what the fuck does that even mean? My boyfriend broke up with me because of this tour, and I thought I was going to marry him. Isn’t that insane? Isn’t that fucking crazy? And the worst part is, that I can’t even stop if I want to. I’m not allowed to stop. Sasha, how could you ever understand how hard this is for me? I’m 22. I should be in college, having fun. But instead I’m about to sing a song I don’t like or care about, in my ex-boyfriends workplace. Does that sound like fun to you, Sasha?” 

Her face was blank, stoic, unmoving. “Let’s go, you have soundcheck.”

You just followed her. Sasha was good at that, good at making you feel small, making you feel like a nuisance. The stage was big, bigger than most of your stadiums, but you didn’t care. You just had to get through it. 

“Have you eaten?”

“Feel sick,” you replied. “No thanks.”

Sasha sighed. “You’re going to faint one day.”

“Let’s hope I never wake up,” you replied dryly. Sasha scoffed and walked on, showing you the layout of the stage. You followed and asked questions, getting into ‘work mode’, and warming up your voice as you went along. A small crowd of the driver’s was gathering, even Lando was standing there, front row, just like he used to. 

You wanted to punch him, in all honesty. How could someone do that? He had no fucking right to stand there and watch you sing. He should be with Allison. 

“Start when you’re ready,” Sasha called and you nodded. 

The music started, and you were off. When the music started, you became someone else. You were moving around, laughing with your band, smiling. It was nice. Even if you hated the tour, you felt free on stage. Even if the song was sad. 

‘Champagne problems’, you’d written it right after your break up with Lando, it was new, and it had just been released. It had become the top of the charts in 15 countries. It would be on your next album, 

‘What if it doesn’t get easier like everybody says?’, and it was your most raw album. It was clearly all about your break up with Lando, there was no denying that. 

The song ended and the entire track clapped. You stopped moving when you spotted Lando’s parents, and you realised very quickly that you had to get out of there. 

You ran to the Ferrari hospitality, did some promos for your next album with them, and suddenly it was time to sing for real. The stands were full, the microphone was on, and the spotlight was on you. 

“Hi everyone,” you smiled, and the crowd erupted in cheering. “How are we feeling today?”

You had worn a short red dress, for Ferrari, and it was sparkling in the late afternoon sunshine. Everyone could see how beautiful you looked. Your hair perfectly styled, your makeup flawless, your beautiful face. 

Lando was entranced. 

You started singing and you sounded like an angel, truely. Lando had always thought you sounded otherworldly. He knew it was about him. He knew he’d fucked up. He knew he missed you. He knew it was too late, and that was the worst part. 

“Thank you so much for coming out and listening to my dumb sad song,” you chuckled as the crowd cheered. “But I have something else for you,” you were cut off by excited fans. I have something just a little bit happier, it’s called ‘Lover’. Please enjoy!”

Lando watched you as you danced around the stage, and he felt something dark growing in his stomach. You weren’t talking about him. It was someone new. You were seeing someone new. 

You couldn’t be seeing someone new, you’d been in a new city every few days. You couldn’t make it work with him, you were never on your phone, so it couldn’t be online. How did this happen?

You finished your song, and you left the stage. You fell into a chair and passed out. Maybe not eating was a bad idea? Probably. 

“Y/n,” Sasha shook you awake. “Someone’s here to see you.”

“I feel like shit-”

“We all do. Let’s go.”

And you followed. Because you had to. What else were you supposed to do but follow? Was this your life now? Taking orders and following them. 

“Now, you have to be nice to everyone, even Lando and Allison, alright?” she turned to you, stopping in front of the door. 

“I really don’t feel well,” you tried to protest. “Can I grab something to eat first?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’ll be 15 minutes, you’ll survive,” she sighed, opened the door, and pushed you into the room.

The drivers and their partners all cheered, happy to see you back in the paddock. 

“Y/n! I missed you so much!” Carmen immediately pulled you into a hug.

“I missed you too,” you smiled, even if it was forced. You needed to sit down, you needed a drink, and you needed to be alone. 

“Some pretty amazing songs!” George cheered, patting you on the back. 

“Thanks George,” you smiled. Soon you were all sitting on the various couches and chatting, even if you didn’t speak. Lando’s eyes were glued to his hands as Allison’s eyes were glued to you. She was practically sitting on him, on the verge of straddling him if you looked in their direction again. She didn’t know it, but you were looking at the door behind them, wondering when you’d be called. It had surpassed the 15 minute mark, and you felt yourself getting more and more faint as time went on. 

“Y/n?” Allison cut across Daniel chatting to you about your latest show in Manchester, remembering a story of the two of you when you were there, and telling it to the group. “How’s the tour going?”

You cleared your throat. “Well, thanks,” you smiled shyly. 

“So the rumours that you haven’t been performing to your full capabilities aren't true? Like I’ve heard you’ve been lip syncing,” she smirked as the rest of the drivers and wags just looked at her with disgust. Oscar rolled his eyes. He’d been sick of her for weeks, and he was usually quite good with people he didn’t like, but he hated her. So did Lily. 

You gulped. “I don’t lip sync, but obviously 97 shows in 113 days is quite a lot for my voice, so I don’t always sing my super vocally- challenging songs every night or else I’d have to go on vocal rest all the time,” you explained, feeling the change in energy in the room. 

“And that would just be horrible, right guys?” She turned to Lando with a smirk on her face, but he was just looking down, embarrassed by her. “I’m a huge fan of your music, how much of it is about Lando?-”

“What the fuck?” George stood up with Carmen by his side. “Allison, what is your problem with her?”

“It’s just a question!” Allison defended as Lando got up and left. She looked a lot less imposing with Lando gone. “He’s my boyfriend now!”

“Yeah, we wish he wasn’t,” Lewis said under his breath.

“Guys, it’s fine,” you just wanted to leave. “Some of my songs are, because I like to put my feelings into music, right? But not all of them, because my life doesn’t revolve around Lando, it never did. I am more than my relationships, and you’d do good to remember that for yourself. Don’t let love become who you are, it doesn’t end well.”

With that, you got up and left. You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t care if Sasha screamed at you, you didn’t care if they all came running after you. 

It was done. You and Lando were over. Was it your choice? No. Was it a choice you had to deal with? Yes. His choice. Yet, everyone had looked to you for answers. ‘What happened?’ ‘Was it going downhill?’ or your personal favourite; ‘Did he get bored?’.

You didn’t know. All you knew was that one moment, you were with him, and the next you weren’t. 

You ran to your dressing room and lay down, eating some random snacks you found. You felt better after eating, you felt-

Knock knock. 

“Come in!” You called, not caring much about who it was.

“Hi,” Lando’s voice was small and quiet. 

You sat up, staring at him. 

“Beautiful songs,” he smiled softly. “Missed hearing you sing.”

You nodded. “Good luck today.”

“Thanks,” he sighed. “I'm sorry about Allison, she’s the fucking worst.” 

You chuckled softly. “I’m sorry you’re dating her.”

He cracked a soft smile, then it fell. “Who’s the new lucky guy for you?” He watched as your face fell. 

“No… no new guy, just an old one I wrote back at the start of… us…” you trailed off. 

His heart was shattering, watching you be treated like this. Watching from afar as you lost your mind, lost your life, over a fucking tour. He saw the soulless look in your eyes, the dropped weight, the dampened smiles, all of it. He was shocked that other people couldn’t see it too. He’d regretted breaking up with you since the moment he did it. He was haunted by the way you begged him to stay, and he questioned how he’d ever said no to you. How was he so blind-sighted? How did he not see how much pressure you were under? How did he not see that he was what was keeping you above ground? 

“Oh,” he breathed out. 

You took a deep breath. “I’m releasing an album soon, and a lot of the songs are about our relationship,” you explained hesitantly. “I wanted to offer you a chance to listen to it before it goes out, just as a… heads-up? In case you’re worried about what’s on it.”

God, punching him square in the face would hurt less than watching you feel awkward around him. He cleared his throat. “Oh umm…yeah. I’d like that. Thank you.”

You nodded and got up, taking a cd out of your backpack. “Here you go. Sorry again, about… everything.” 

“I’m sorry too,” he nodded. “So, are you leaving now or…?”

“No, I’m holding the chequered flag today, so I’ll be up at race control,” you explained, trying to look anywhere other than him. “And I’m handing off the 1st place trophy.”

“Maybe I’ll be first to see you,” he chuckled. 

“Maybe,” you shrugged. 

“The tour looks… awful. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” he spoke after a minute’s silence. 

You just shrugged. “Not your fault,” you lied. 

He knew this was when he was meant to leave, but he wasn’t sure when you two would be in the same room again. He didn’t know when he’d see you again, so he took a moment to fully take you in. “You were really incredible today. You sounded like an-”

“Angel? Thanks Lando, see you soon,” you nodded, finishing the compliment you always used to get from him. He nodded and left, realising he had no more time. 

When the door closed you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. How could he do that? How could he stand there and be nice to you, after what he said that night? After what he fucking put you through?

----------------

Weeks of complaining from him, blaming you for his performance in races, telling you that you needed to be there for him, not calling you back, not texting back, not listening when you told him about how awful everything was going. 

“I’m sorry Lan, I know how hard this is. It’s hard for me too-”

“How the fuck can you say that? You’re the one who choose to do this, you fucking decided to tear us apart! This is all your fault, and you’re telling me it’s ‘hard’ for you. What is hard for you? Spending all your time with adoring fans? Being on stage and living your dreams? Being away from me?”

“Lan, you know better than anyone that I didn’t want this tour to happen,” you cried. Even then, even 48 shows in, you were being driven crazy. You were exhausted, you missed home, and you missed Lando. “I had no choice-”

“You had every fucking choice! And don’t give me that fucking bullshit about your label forcing you, we both know that’s a fucking lie!” he shouted. You hated it when he shouted, when anyone shouted. He had no fucking right to speak to you like that. You didn’t want this to happen, you had no say, you just had a contract and an incompetent lawyer to thank.

“I don’t know what you want me to say to that,” you shrugged, your voice breaking. “I love you, and I miss you. We can make this work Lan, I just need time to figure it out, alright? I just need time-”

“Yeah? Well I’ve given you all the time I have to give. We’re done, I bet I could find a million girls just like you, girls who would actually take my feelings into account before she made huge life decisions!” he scoffed.

“Lando, please don’t do this. I-I don’t know what- I- Lan please, I need you,” you pleaded. “I’m trying my best I swear-”

“Your best isn’t good enough.”

And he hung up.

----------------

The fallout of your relationship didn’t exactly go great either. A day later your feed was flooded with pictures of Lando out with someone else. One day later. 

What the fuck? Didn’t he care? Didn’t he love you?

Well, apparently not. 

----------------

Lando knew he wouldn’t see you again for months. This was his only fucking chance to speak to you, to see you, and instead, he stayed in his driver’s room listening to the heart-wrentching songs you’d written about him. God, if he thought ‘champagne problems’ was devastating, ‘cowboy like me’ was worse. It was a long album, almost 2 hours long. It spanned your entire relationship, starting out, your first date, your grammy win, his podiums, the hate you two got, the start of the fighting, the end of the relationship, and the after. It was awful reliving it from your perspective, especially since you had tried to tell him, and every time he’d pick a fight. 

“Lando?” Oscar’s voice came from outside his door. “Allison’s looking for you.”

“Tell her to piss off!”

“You can do that, mate,” he scoffed and walked off, into his own driver’s room. 

“Lan?” Her voice rang out, and he wanted to scream. He had put himself in this position, he knew it,  but it was still difficult to fully self-actualise his own shortcomings. 

“What?” he groaned, opening the door. 

“The other girls are excluding me,” she pouted. 

“I wonder why,” Lando rolled his eyes. “They love Y/n.”

Her face fell into a frown. “But you love me, so they should love me. They keep going off to find her and talk to her, and any time I try to tell them that I’m uncomfortable around her, they tell me not to come.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” he sighed. 

“Talk to their boyfriends, ask them to include me!”

“Babe, I have a fucking race today, please leave me alone,” he sighed. He pushed past her to walk to the paddock, knowing he just had to keep his head down and race today, he just had to do the one thing he was good at. 

“Well, what am I supposed to do for the rest of the day?” 

“I don’t know,” he grunted, and moved on. The garage was somehow too loud yet not loud enough to drown out the negative thoughts in his head. Recent months had been difficult. Races were taking more and more out of him, he was lonely, and if he wasn’t training or racing, he was looking at old photos of you or watching the tour. He could see how you deflated as you left the stage, how upset you looked going on stage. It was all a terrible reminder of how selfish he’d been. How hadn’t he seen it? Why didn’t he listen? 

He remembered telling Max what had happened. He’d gotten so angry, begging him to call you back and apologise. He’d been so blindsighted, he wouldn’t listen to Max. Why was Max always right?

“You good?” Oscar asked, a hand on his shoulder to drag him out of his thousand-yard stare. 

Lando sighed. “Good,” he lied, and it wasn’t convincing. Everyone knew what you were to him. You grounded him, you knew him, every single part of him. You loved him. “You?”

“Good. Y/n’s set was great earlier,” he offered a small smile. “At least you have a good break-up album, right?”

Lando cracked a small smile. Oscar was good at that, making him laugh when he was down. “Yeah, it feels great when it’s about you.”

Oscar chuckled. “Story for the grandkids,” he shrugged. “Don’t sweat it.”

Lando nodded. 

“Oh yeah,” Oscar added. “When you left, Allison asked Y/n what songs were about you, so just… expect that conversation with her, I guess? I’m not entirely sure what’ll happen-”

“What did Y/n say?”

Oscar swallowed. “Something like; ‘some of my songs are, ‘cause I like to put my emotions into music. But not all of them, because my life doesn’t revolve around Lando, it never did. I am more than my relationships, and you’d do good to remember that for yourself’.”

Lando nodded, and could tell by the look on Oscar’s face that he was holding something back. “That’s it?”

“‘Don’t let love become who you are, it doesn’t end well’,” Oscar finished. “Then she left.”

Lando nodded as the weight on his chest got heavier. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course,” Oscar offered a pity-smile and walked off to his side of the garage. 

Lando was always a person to be stuck inside his own head. He wasn’t good at expressing his feelings. He didn’t know how to talk about them. Yet, you always knew how to get him to talk. You always had the right solution, the right thing to say, the right face to make. He was in awe of you, so effortlessly perfect. 

He remembered back to Greece, back in the off-season, before the tour, before the season started. Before he fucked everything up. 

----------------

You smiled as he pulled you closer. The air was anything but cold, and the water was still. There you two sat, sitting on the bow of the as the sun set. The clear water beneath the yacht you’d been on for the past few days was calm and steady, lulling you both into an unmistakable tiredness. Yte, Lando wanted to stay up, wanting to soak up as much time with you as he could. He was going to miss you so much this season. You hadn’t ever been to every race in a season, you were a busy person, he understood that. He was a busy person too. But you’d go to as many races as possible. Now, ‘as many races as possible’ means about 4. Stupid tour. 

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, your eyes closed as you soaked in the moment. You leant against his chest as you lay in his arms, your favourite place to be. 

“How much I’ll miss you this year,” he admitted. There was never any point in lying to you, you always knew. 

You pressed a kiss to his arm. “I’ll miss you too.”

You were straight forward with things, he loved that. It was a bad situation. You were off to a tour you didn’t want to do, and he was off to another season. 

“I love you,” he confessed. He said it a lot, but it always felt special. He made you feel special. You made him feel special.

“I love you,” you opened your eyes, a smile on your lips. You spoke again after a few moments of silence. “You’re going to win a race this season, I can tell.”

He chuckled. “Once I get back home to you, I don’t care if I win.”

You laughed. “Sure, we all believe you.”

He smiled. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You looked at him for a moment, that perfect, soft smile on your face. “Ditto,” you laughed as he did too. Your laugh was melodic, his favourite sound. 

“Who says ‘ditto’ to that?!” he laughed.

“I do,” you chuckled. 

You two locked eyes for a moment, then he leant down and pressed his lips to yours, soft and sweet. 

The perfect night. 

----------------

He caught a glance of your red dress walking into the garage. 

“Y/n!” The engineers cheered. He heard your laughter. 

The room was a collection of cheers and conversation, and he wanted more than anything to be able to walk over to you and hold you, and kiss you, and tell everyone to leave you alone because you were his girlfriend, not theirs. 

You walked in with a smile on your face. That smile dropped in half a second. Everyone was talking, everyone was patting you on the back, everyone was looking at you. You caught a glance of Lando and immediately felt the pit in your stomach grow. Everyone knew everything, everyone looked at you. Everyone blamed you. Oscar wrapped his arm around you and walked you through the garage as he saw you getting overwhelmed. He’d learnt the signs from his little sisters. Blown out pupils, teary eyes, tight features, heavy breathing. Oscar had always been a great friend to you, he’d always cared for you. He brought you through, doing most of the talking if anyone stopped you two and let you in his driver’s room, promising to grab you when you could leave without being bombarded by crew, or the press. 

Lando followed behind after a few minutes, then knocked on the door. He knew how to calm you down, he was probably the only person who did. 

Oscar opened the door looking panicked. “She’s having a panic attack,” he whispered. 

Lando nodded and walked in, taking your hand in his as you hid your face in your other hand. He knelt beside you on the floor as you sat on the bed. “It’s me baby, I’m right here. Come on, squeeze my hand,” he said, voice steady. You didn’t. “You need to start breathing properly, squeeze my hand like I’m squeezing yours,” He put some light pressure on your hand, which jump-started you into squeezing his hand as hard as you could. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair. You hated how well he knew you. You wanted him to not know you, to not understand you and your body better than you did. “Just like that,” he cooed. He pressed your hand to his chest, where you could feel his steady and calm breathing, feel his regular heartbeat. It was in stark contrast to you. The thump of your own heartbeat in your ears, the quick breathing, the erratic heart. “Breathe with me. Please baby,” his voice was soft and comforting. You tried, gently slowing your breathing down to normal. The adrenaline was still rushing through your body as you calmed down. Oscar offered you a water bottle and you let go of Lando’s hand to take it. 

“I shouldn’t have come here, I’m sorry,” you said, sounding smaller than ever. “Zak said he wanted to see me after my set. I should’ve just said no.”

“You’re always welcome here,” Oscar placed a hand on your shoulder. “Seriously.”

“We want you here,” Lando added. The air was sucked from the room. “I want you here.”

“You don’t,” you refuted. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Lando sighed. “Let me walk you back to Ferrari, please?”

You shook your head, finally looking up and making eye contact with him. “You and I both know how that’ll go.”

Lando nodded, his heart breaking for the thousandth time. It’s hard to find an end to something you never want to let go of. “Ok,” he whispered, his emotions getting the better of him. 

“Goodbye Lando,” you sighed, then took Oscar’s arm and let him lead you back to Ferrari. 

----------------

“I’m sorry about Lando,” Oscar sighed as you two walked up to the entrance to Ferrari. “About the break up, now, and basically everything in between. He’s been… difficult recently. He’s always been a ‘glass half empty’ kind of guy I guess… I just… you made him better, y’know?”

You chuckled sadly. “Thank you for apologising, but you don’t have to. Lando is an adult, so am I. Things just… end sometimes. Him and I just aren’t meant to be.”

Oscar cocked an eyebrow. “I think we both know that’s not true.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Oscar had never been this straightforward with you, and he sure as hell had never broached this topic before. You just nodded and took his hand. “Thanks for helping me.”

And then you walked back to Ferrari. 

Oscar did get one thing right, Lando wasn’t done with you. Maybe it was seeing you again, maybe it was the album, maybe it was Allison, maybe it was all of it, he didn’t know. But what he did know was that he was still in love with you. He’d never stopped. How could he? He missed everything about you, your lips, your smile, your kindness, the way you’d make him laugh, the way you’d make him smile. Everything. He missed listening to you sing, seeing you on a stage that you wanted to be on. Seeing you get to be you. 

----------------

The Silverstone after-party with Charles who dragged you along. You’d thought it would be a bad idea, but when you were already 8 shots deep, you didn’t really notice. Yuki had pulled you away to sing a karaoke duet with him as Pierre and Charles laughed at you both, and you somehow ended up outside on the balcony with Carlos, both of you laughing at something random. 

“Y/n!” Lando cheered, clearly as drunk as you. A part of you had forgotten about everything before this moment, like you were seeing him for the first time. Perfect, with his curls, unbuttoned shirt, and damn pretty smile. “I didn’t know you were here!” 

“Lan!” you cheered, pulling him in for a hug. Carlos gave you both a very confused look, but was called away by Charles for a game of beer pong. Surprisingly, these ‘fancy’ parties usually just turned into something out of a frat house in Florida. Maybe it was just Logan’s presence. “How are you?” You slurred. 

“I feel great!” he shouted. “We should go for a walk!” 

“Yes!” you agreed. 

----------------

And that’s how you ended up back in his hotel room making out with him on his bed as he pulled your dress off. Funny how things can happen when you’re actually 18 shots deep, not 8. Oops?

“So pretty,” he murmured into your neck as he settled you on his lap. “So pretty for me.”

You laughed into his mouth, pulling back. “Lan, speed up.”

He smirked at you, his eyes heavy, then pressed his lips to yours again. He fully pulled your dress off of you as you started making quick work of his belt and trousers. 

“Fuck me,” you whispered in his ear and he let out a low moan. “Please Lan.”

He didn’t waste time. 

----------------

You woke up the next morning with a blinding headache, and a very naked Lando Norris beside you. You had to leave. You’d just fucked him, and he had a girlfriend. You were a homewrecker. You didn’t know if the sudden urge to vomit came up because of that, or the 18 shots of straight vodka you did the night before. 

You quickly grabbed your clothes, shoes, one of his hoodies, and tried to salvage whatever dignity you had left, then made a swift exit. It was still dark out and you were just praying that you could get through the 2 blocks you had to walk to your hotel without running into someone, or running into cameras. You quickly dialled Sasha’s number and tried to stop yourself from crying. You just pray you two used protection, or fell asleep before doing anything real.

“Morning?” she answered groggily. 

“Sasha I did something really fucking stupid,” you admitted, the tears welling up in your eyes as you walked into the lobby of your hotel. “And I don’t know what to do.”

“Come to my room, we’ll sort it out,” she sighed. “You’ll be ok kiddo, I promise.”

----------------

You knocked on her hotel room door, tears in your eyes. 

“It’s 5 am,” she stated, opening the door. 

You rushed in, bursting into tears. “I think I fucked Lando, I mean- I-I think we fucked, last night- we were so drunk a-and then I don’t re-remember,” you hiccuped. “I’m so fucking stupid!”

She put a hand on your shoulder, sighing. “That was a very stupid thing to do,” she nodded. “But it’s not the end of the world. Did you use protection?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll go get Plan B, you stay here. Get changed into some pyjamas. Get some water, relax. Just don’t leave the hotel, yeah?”

“Alright,” you agreed. She left for the door. “Sash?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you said in a small voice. She offered you a pitying smile, and went on her way. 

----------------

Months passed and you both went on with your lives. He didn’t reach out, you didn’t either. Sadly, you were in fact a homewrecker. A week after ‘the incident’ Allison and Lando broke up. You truthfully felt so ashamed and awful for the girl. It wasn’t right what you two had done, and truly, you were insanely drunk. In no world would you fuck Lando Norris sober. 

The tour had finally ended, and your world was no longer turned upside down. You were working on new music, healing your body after all the travel and abuse you put it through, and continuing to try and get over Lando. 

It hurt like a bitch. He hurt like a bitch. 

----------------

Lando two-wins. Contender in the Championship. Supposedly dating someone. Last Lap Lando.

Lonely Lando, more like. Max Fewtrell had decided to stage an intervention and join him for the rest of the races, worried about his mental state. Since seeing you again, he’d been… less than alright. He’d talk about you all the time, stalk your instagram (to the point that Max took his phone off of him in Greece), and generally just think about you a lot. It was coming up to the album drop, and you were having your launch party in Italy. The same weekend as the race. All because Charles wanted to come. 

Shit was bound to go down, and no one was more excited than Hallie. 

You were dressed to the nines, nervous and excited. You’d fired half of your team, you’d dropped your old label, and you’d become… happier? That couldn’t be right, not when you felt the oppressive weight of your own regret on your chest everyday. Not when you woke up reaching for Lando. Not when you watched every single race and couldn’t look away until he was safely across that damn finish line. 

You were surviving. That’s the best you could do. 

----------------

“You look beautiful,” Charles smiled as he walked into the party. The night had gone off without a hitch so far. A select group of fans, influencers, celebrities, and almost all the drivers were mingling with one another, and not one sighting of Lando Norris. Not that you didn’t miss his face, or him in general. You did. More than you’d ever thought possible to miss someone.  

“Thanks Charles,” you smiled, pulling him into a hug. “You look great too.”

He smiled and beside him, Alexandria smiled at you, then pulled you into a hug. You continued the superficial chatting for a few moments, just hoping Charles wouldn’t ask the dreaded question. 

He looked at you for a second too long, and you knew it was coming. “Are you alright?” God, why did he have to ask stupid fucking questions? Obviously you weren’t alright. Obviously, if you could, you would run away. Obviously, you were drowning. 

Didn’t he see that? Didn’t anyone notice? Didn’t anyone care?

Apparently not. 

You nodded, putting on your best fake smile. “Just nervous.”

He nodded. It was enough to fool him. 

The night went on in a flurry of uncomfortable small talk, ridiculous requests from your most esteemed guests, and it was finally time to start listening to the album. You stood on stage, a nervous smile on your face as everyone looked at David, your producer, who was speaking in length about how proud of the record he was, and how proud he was of you. Everything was perfect. Everything was right in the world. 

But, of course, because he had to always be the centre of your universe, Lando walked in. 

And you were fucked. Every single breathing technique you’d learnt, every single pressure point tapping you’d done, it all left your head. Everything stopped. You stopped breathing. You stopped. 

But it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel bad to have him there. It felt awfully, and soul-crushingly, right. Lando was always meant to be there, a devastating realisation that you didn’t exactly want to make while on stage in front of 200 people. 

“Any words, Y/n?” David asked, passing you the mic. 

You looked at Lando and he smiled, waving at you. You smiled back. 

“Please enjoy this album, it’s from a very important time of my life where I finally learnt what it meant to be in love, and be loved wholly in return. Obviously, it didn’t end very well, and that’s when I learnt what grieving someone was. I still have a lot of love for him, probably more than I should. But I have it. And I had nowhere to put it, so I put it to music, which is really the only thing I think I’ll ever truly understand. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you understand it,” You explained to the crowd. You watched Lando the entire time, looking at how his eyes lit up when you talked about your relationship. Lando had always cared about you. He always would. 

The opening cords of the first song started playing, and the attention was off of you. The crowd just closed their eyes and listened. You exited the stage and joined the crowd, desperately trying to get out of there. You stood on the balcony as the music blasted inside. People danced along, sang along as they started learning the words, and you stayed outside, tears falling. 

“You’re beautiful,” Lando’s whisper made you jump. You turned to see him, standing there behind you. “The album’s beautiful.”

You scoffed. “The album’s an album. What was beautiful was us,” you sighed. “Thank you for coming.”

He nodded, leaning against the barrier beside you. “Do you even wish our lives weren’t as complicated as they are?”

You chuckled. “More than anything.”

“We were beautiful,” he shook his head, trying to remember why he ever ruined the best thing in his life. “If you ever find yourself wanting to love me again, just… call me?”

You nodded, looking at him. “I will.”

He nodded, putting his hand on your shoulder and letting it sit there for a split-second, just to remind him of what it was like to touch you. Just to remind himself that once, he didn’t have to wonder if you loved him, to remind him of the unwavering support you gave him, to remind him of how his whole world came crashing down when he made you leave it. “I love you,” he whispered before walking to the door. 

His phone started ringing in his pocket as he got back inside. Unknown number. He answered it. 

“I think I want to love you again,” he could hear your smile through the phone and he immediately whipped around, his smile growing as he got closer to you. When he stood in front of you again, you both took the phones down and smiled at each other.

Lando didn’t waste time. He closed the gap between you two in one simple stride, wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his lips to yours. “I love you so much,” he pulled back. “I’m never letting you go again.”

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landonorris

1,488,928 likes | liked by oscarpiastri, y/ny/l/n, and others

love of my life. @ y/ny/l/n

comments

user28: WHAT THE FUCK THEY BROKE UP MONTHS AGO THO????-> user92: they were seen kissing at her launch party

y/ny/l/n: who's that pretty girl? -> oscarpiastri: she's too good for him -> landonorris: >:( -> oscarpiastri: hurt her again and I push you off the track. ->carlossainz: I second this -> charleslecerc: I third this -> alexalbon: I fourth this -> georgerussell: I fifth this.

georgerussell: Trying to beat me with no shirt?

lewishamilton: Yay! (I begged her not to take you back you asshole). -> pierregasly: Yay! (I'm trying to be supportive of her).

lilymhe: fuck off. ->user83: LMAO -> user18: DAMN EVERYONE HATES HIM

danielriccardo: HAHAHAHAHAH (I'm crying.)

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[gguk-n]

Jokes In The Cloud (Carlos Sainz x Comedian!Reader)

No Face Claim. All the pictures are from Pinterest.

CONGRATULATIONS TO CARLOS ON WINNING HIS SECOND GP THIS SEASON!!

punchlineprincess

Liked by y/bff/user and 2,389 others

punchlineprincess Vacationing with the people who get on my nerve the most

y/bff/user you forgot to take me😔😔 punchlineprincess y/bff/user sorry bbg, next trip with you alone😘😘 y/cousin/user you annoy us more🙂 y/mum/user not a nice thing to say Y/N punchlineprincess y/mum/user I was joking😅😅 user1 if someone saw her IG they would think she's a model😍😍 user2 God I've seen what you've done for others, when is it my turn🥲🥲 user3 pretty and funny. I want her!!❤️❤️

{Reader's POV}

The gears in my head my turning, I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I still had to refine my script; I was sure I could do it if I have a few hours. "Sweetheart, dinner's ready" my dad called out from the bedroom door. "Dad, I have to leave" I stated. "To where?" my dad asked, walking in. "You know that Netflix special I was gonna film" I began, he nodded along, "well, they want to film it on Monday" I finished. "That's in a day" he stated. "2, since it's in New York" I explained. "Cassidy will send me my tickets, but I think I'll be leaving now" I spoke. "Sorry about ditching the family trip. I know how important it was for you" I mumbled. "It's okay, darling. This is bigger. This will catapult you to fame like you always wanted, I mean I'm already so proud of you but this is still bigger" he explained trying to calm me. "Me and your mum will help you pack, come on" he said and called my mum.

The two of them helped me pack my bags. He explained how my Netflix special would be filmed soon and I would be leaving soon to everyone. All my younger cousins and nieces and nephews were so excited. Cassidy sent me the tickets. I made sure to pack everything while my mum fed me, it was chaos in the best way possible. "I'll be leaving now" I hugged my parents good bye. "Can't wait to watch it" my aunt spoke patting my back. "Mention us" one of my younger cousin's spoke. "I'll try" I laughed. My niece kissed my cheek wishing me good bye. My nephew wasn't ready to let me go yet, my brother had to pull him off me.

I waved good bye as the taxi left the resort, my family waving back as I disappeared. The ride to the airport was short, I was too busy going through my material to notice when I reached the airport. I paid the taxi driver and hauled my luggage to the check-in desk. The person behind it, checked me in and I was headed to immigration. This was the first time I noticed that I was sitting first class. When did my manager have this kind of money to book first class. I'd have to bring it up with her once I had the time.

I got done with all the formality and headed to the waiting area, where I spent my time going through my script and tweaking it ever so often. I downed a RedBull to try to align myself to New York time, so that I can combat the jet lag.

As the speaker's announced the boarding for my flight, I grabbed all my stuff with the plan to finish it up on the plane. The air-host lead me to my seat. I noticed a man sat on the seat next to mine, he looked an awful lot familiar, until it hit me that it was Carlos Sainz; my heart started pounding. I walked up to my seat, put my luggage away and sat down. My hands were shaking by the time I sat down, pulling my laptop out. I started typing away with shaky hands. "Is that a script?" a voice came from beside me. I turned around to find Carlos with his head turned, trying to figure out what's written. "Yeah, I'm a comedian, this is a script for my show" I tried to speak as confidently and calmly as possible. "That's cool. I'm Carlos, Carlos Sainz" he introduced himself. "I'm Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N" I shook his hand. "I'm a Formula One driver, maybe you'e heard about me" he further elaborated. I know, I've been obsessed with you for years, my poor brother has to listen to me talk about you for hours after every race, analysing the whole race. I have a fan account called carloslover, were the thoughts running through my head. "Yeah, I must've heard about Formula One some where" I said tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Well it's nice to meet you" Carlos said. "It's nice to meet you too" I said with a smile. "I'll let you get back to your work" Carlos said pointing at my laptop.

I spent a couple more minutes working on it before I was disturbed by Carlos, not like I was complaining; "I'm sorry but I'm kind of curious about what the script your working on is about" Carlos spoke slowly. "I'm filming a Netflix special in New York. So, I'm fine tuning my script" I chuckled. "Oh, sorry for disturbing you" Carlos replied sheepishly. Damn, he looked so cute, I caught myself fawning at him. "Ah, it's nothing." I quickly looked away, "I love when people are interested in what I do" I smiled. "Then, I will continue to annoy you a bit" he laughed. "Be my guest" I smiled back.

A few more tweaks and a good hour later, I was able to close the laptop, happy with the script I had at hand. "I'm guessing you're done" Carlos chimed in. "I am" I said stretching a little. "Maybe you could practice a bit with me" Carlos suggested. "I do want to practice my crowd work" I thought out loud.

"So, Carlos are you really a full time driver or a model? I can't really tell" I said. Carlos's face turned red, "Is this how you do crowd work?" he trailed. "I, no, can't let the opportunity to flirt with a man as handsome as you go" I smirked. Carlos's blush only deepened, "So, I'm special" he laughed. "Obviously" I shrugged. "If it's anything, I thought you were a model and not a comedian" he retorted. "I get that a lot. But doesn't work in my profession when people don't think pretty people tell good jokes" I retorted back. "I've never heard any of your jokes, but I'm sure you're funny since Netflix wants you" Carlos said. "Hope so" I said holding up my hands with crossed fingers.

I felt like the time flew by, as Carlos kept me company. Just as the flight was about to land; "Will I see you again?' Carlos asked hopefully. "You could, if I had your number" I remarked. Carlos pulled his phone out and handed it to me. I put my number in and called myself. "I'll see you soon." I winked as I saved Carlos's number. "Can't wait" Carlos replied, smiling at me as we grabbed our luggage to leave.

Cassidy was waiting for me as I exited the airport. "I'm so sorry, I should've checked my emails" she apologised grabbing my bag. "It's fine, let's go. I'm exhausted" I replied grabbing my bag back. We caught an uber back to the hotel. I rehearsed my script with Cassidy for the next few hours, trying not to memorise it so it would sound genuine.

punchlineprincess

Liked by y/bff/user and 2,378 others

punchlineprincess Done filming my first special, can't wait for it to air🥹🥹

y/bff/user I'M SO EXCITED🤭🤭 user4 I'll watch it just to see that outfit😍 user5 so pretty😍😍 y/mum/user so proud of my baby💖 y/dad/user my baby's all grown up😭❤️

punchlineprincess

Liked by y/bff/user, carlossainz55 and 3,289 others

punchlineprincess Joked my way into his life🫣🫣

y/bff/user ooohhhh who is this??👀👀 y/dad/user what is this behaviour y/n??? user6 OMG!!! I love this❤️❤️ user7 the best couple ever and idek the guy😅😅 user9 y/n being sporty wasn't in my bingo card🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ user10 the golf date!!!❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 user11 I want to go to an art museum with my lover and imitate art like that😏😏 user12 this is so Carlos coded plus he's in the likes😣😣

punchlineprincess

Liked by y/bff/user and 5,378 others

punchlineprincess I may have gone overboard for the premier at home🥲😅

y/bff/user I'M SCREAMING WHILE WATCHING IT🥹🥹 y/mum/user my baby❤️ carlossainz55 so proud of you ❤️Liked by Author user13 what does Carlos mean by that, like he knows her����👀 user14 the funniest shit i've watched in a while🤣🤣 user15 loved this so much!!!❤️🤣 user16 finally the real comedian that's getting the recognition she deserves😂😂

punchlineprincess

Liked by carlossainz55, y/bff/user and 1278,340 others Tagged carlossainz55

punchlineprincess Sorry I'm not normal about my boyfriend winning his second race this season😭😭

carlossainz55 I think having you there was my lucky charm🍀❤️ punchlineprincess carlossainz55 aww!! but it was your big brain and hard work❤️❤️🥹 y/bff/user aww!! watching both my babies win respectively 😭😭Liked by carlossainz55 and punchlineprincess y/dad/user good job Carlos👍 Liked by carlossainz55 user12 I should've known after those dates🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ user20 seeing her hug his mom when he won was so cute😭😭 user21 the most unlikely couple🥹🥹 user22 I get it Carlos, I get it😍😍 user23 Vamos Carlos!!👍👍 user24 I want a full timeline how everything went down😩 user25 I'm so happy I got to witness this race😭😭 user26 she was so sweet to all the fans and even took pictures with us!!😭🥹

After the race win celebrations on the podium and the team, after the interviews when I finally got him all to myself; "I'm so proud of you baby" I whispered as I pressed a kiss on his lips. "I'm so happy you got to see me win" Carlos mumbled not letting go. "I can't believe instead of watching you on TV I got to watch you in real life" I said pulling away. "I don't know why you lied to me when we met" Carlos laughed. "Well I couldn't tell you I'm @ carloslover on Instagram and Twitter and I've been in love with you since you debuted" I laughed. "I think I wouldn't have paid much attention since you're so pretty" Carlos smiled running his hands down my sides to rest on my waist. "Well I'm a Carlos lover and I am Carlos's lover. It's a win win" I smiled, "You and I both, princessa, you and I both" Carlos captured my lips in another, yet steamy kiss pulling me closer so my body was touching his, "You are all sticky and smell of champagne", I mumbled against his lips trying to pull away but Carlos pulled me closer, "No" he muttered and continued kissing me. He walked back to sit on the couch pulling me down with him, straddling his lap. He pulled me closer, our bodies touching, his hands roaming mine before they found home on my ass. We pulled away slightly breathless but Carlos than started his assault on my neck, sucking on my sweet spot near my collar bone while pushing me down on his lap. I could feel him grow under me. I pushed him away, "Nope" I said firmly. "No?" he asked cocking his head to the right with his big brown puppy eyes, "We're not doing it here. Let's get back to the hotel, maybe after you smell a little less like alcohol, I'll think about it" I said getting up. "Y/N" he whined holding my hands as I stood in front of him. "Not even for today's race winner" he pouted. "No. Baby, this is your work place. I will do anything and everything you want but out of the paddock" I said. "The car?" Carlos perked up. "Carlos, darling, we'll be on the headline tomorrow reading Carlos Sainz Jr knows how to celebrate his win in Mexico with girlfriend in his black Ferrari" I said. "Fine, Let's go back soon. I can't wait" he humphed before going to change out of his race suit. "I love you" I called out. "También te amo" he called back.

[ryescapades]

*ੈ‧₊༺ SANDY BEACHES AND SINFUL BLISS.

characters: itoshi sae (bllk) x afab!reader contents: nsfw mdni !! explicit, unprotected p in v, fingering, semi-public, implied masturbation, anal/double pen. (use of a toy), hickeys, backshots, blindfolds, dirty talk, petnames (amor, baby, babe, love), established rs, sae takes a pic of u (lmk if there's more ..) wc ~ 2.2k

a/n: a generalized version of another secret santa entry !! i’m glad you liked my gift @lumiambrose <3

Spain's beaches are always a sight to behold, no matter the time of day.

The sun has long disappeared into the horizon, the sky now pitch black with only the night lights from the festivities a few metres away illuminating the area. The balcony you’re currently lounging on is two-storey high, the sound of joyful chatters and laughter filling your ears as a cool draught of air softly whips over the tresses of your hair.

Leaning against the railing as your eyes remain locked on the waves gently lapping up the shore, you tuck a loose strand behind your ear and reminisce about the times you’d spent in other wonderful places such as this, most of the time courtesy of your boyfriend.

Sae, the ever-so-nonchalant man that he is, rarely says it outright, but you know he loves having you around, loves having you close and within his reach, loves knowing you’re there waiting for him after each grueling day. Why else would he always have two tickets ready whenever he has an away game if not to bring you along on his trip? Why else would he book an entire beach house instead of staying at the hotel like the rest of his teammates?

Sure, the hours when he’s away for practice would feel a little lonely at times, but that’s the more reason for you to anticipate his return, for the reward he’d been saving for you at the end of the day will only grow sweeter.

Life with Sae can be gradual and relaxed, yet thrilling in the way that he would try to explore anything and everything with you, if only you’d so much as ask for it.

Life with him makes you feel… full. In more ways than one.

The sound of the door unlocking catches your attention, and the soft pitter patter of footsteps that follow only sends a rush of excitement through you. Soon enough, a pair of rough hands settle on your hips, a strong chest leaning against the span of your back.

“Have you been good, amor?” Your boyfriend whispers in your ear, his breath brushing against your skin almost in a seductive way. No ‘hi, hello, how’s your day?’ and whatnot. He gets straight to the point, as always.

That’s your man alright.

The corner of your lips curls upwards. “Hello to you too, handsome. What can I help you with today?” You cheekily ask.

The redhead scoffs, though in a lighthearted way. “You could help me with many things, love. How about we start with answering my question first, hm?” He says, causing you to playfully pout at his response, “Well, what do you think?”

Sae’s hands start to slowly move up and down on the side of your waist, warmth seeping from his touch through your clothes. A meek gesture, giving and nearly domestic in a way if not for the promise of his next words.

“If I tell you what I think, you wouldn’t be able to properly stand in the next few minutes, amor.” He murmurs, hands drifting lower beneath the shirt you’re wearing before his fingers firmly spreads your asscheeks.

A gasp is pulled out of your mouth, the buttplug you’d been keeping inside you accidentally dragging against your ribbed walls from his ministrations.

Oops, he already figured it out, hasn’t he?

You were supposed to stay good. Keep the plug nice and warm inside your hole, no touching nor masturbation whatsoever until he gets back. But how could you not?

When Sae kept sending you those godforsaken thirst traps from his gym and practice sessions? The way his sinewy muscles stretched oh so deliciously against the fabric of his sweat-soaked shirt, the way his thick veiny thighs were bulging after the rigorous workout, and the freaking post-session shower?

You should’ve been considered a saint for the only thing you did was get yourself off one time the whole day with your fingers.

“Can’t blame a girl for having such wild fantasies,” you huff, feeling his fingers dipping into the heat between your thighs. With the lack of underwear on your side, Sae lowly hums when he makes contact with your slick, sounding both pleased at himself and dissatisfied with your answer.

“Well, would you look at that… you’re still dripping wet. This all from the pics I sent you?” Your eyebrows pinch together, trying to come up with a sarcastic remark as you eye the people who are walking by in the distance.

“I –“

“Fingers or tongue?” Sae cuts you off, catching you off guard. “W-wait – here?” You ask as you finally turn to look at him. His auburn hair softly blows with the night wind much like your own, and Sae tentatively reaches up to bring the thick locks over to one of your shoulders. His lidded teal eyes gauge yours with a perfectly raised eyebrow as if in challenge.

You’re not one to say no to any of his advances, of course. After all, you’re just as freaky insatiable as he is, if not more.

Seeing an answer enough from the relaxed expression on your face, Sae decides for you. “My fingers it is then.”

Almost immediately, he plunges two digits into your sopping cunt, causing you to let out a surprised squeal. Gripping hard on the railing, your body starts squirming as he straight away sets a quick pace.

“Oh shit, Sae–“ Your breath trembles with each thrust of his thick fingers, more of your juices trickling down the inside of your thighs.

He doesn’t let up his speed. If anything, it only seems like he’s going faster with how much louder the gushing sound of your pussy can be heard. Your back bows slightly over the railing from how hard he’s going, though you don’t stay there long before you swivel your head back again, hand fisting at the collar of his crisp white shirt to roughly pull him down into a kiss.

Your little growl mixes with his grunt as your lips and teeth clash in a fiery dance. Your legs are on the verge of trembling, and you’re so so close to coming on his magical fingers.

Your boyfriend has always enjoyed seeing you unravel before him, enjoyed seeing you come undone so quickly even when he’s not using his dick to fuck you silly. You’re so pliant, so malleable under his touch, and yet you still got that fire in you to somehow fight him back.

You’re an insufferable brat, but you’re his insufferable brat. One whose pussy that he loves making a mess of.

At this point you don’t even care about the mass of passerby who could probably see you even from that far away. They can watch for all you care. In this moment, only you and Sae and the earth-shattering orgasms he’s gracing you with exist in this world.

(Though you’re a bit glad the house he rented isn’t smacked right on the centre of the beach where lots of people will see if that was ever the case.)

“Come on, baby. Give me one before I have to fuck you dumb on my cock,” he mumbles. “Or do you need someone below to see how slutty you look right now, hm?” His other hand moves to the buttplug, slowly pushing it deeper inside your ass.

If it wasn’t in your stomach already, then it certainly is now.

You don’t bother giving him an answer because soon enough, you’re coming all over his hand with a whiny moan, your slick running down his wrist like rich honey.

Sae pulls his fingers out with a few last taps on your sticky clit, casually sucking and licking your cum off the digits before planting a kiss on the side of your head. “Good girl.”

True to his words, your legs feel like jelly from how hard he was going as you lean all your weight back against his body for support. Taking note of this, Sae spins you around before lifting you into his arms, walking you both to the bedroom just adjacent to the balcony.

All the while he’s carrying you inside, you mouth at the exposed skin of his neck, occasionally sucking and biting until the fair canvas turns raw and red from your teeth. He can reprimand (or punish) you later for giving him such visible hickeys where other people might notice. For now, you decide it’s best to indulge yourself first.

Sae sets you down onto the bed before he reaches down to pull his shirt over his head, helping you get your clothes off as well right after. “Turn around, amor. Let me see,” he instructs.

You know exactly what he means, and with a teasing smile thrown his way, you maneuver yourself to settle on your elbows and knees.

Your inner thighs are still coated with a light sheen of your arousal, wet and shiny under the dim light of the room. Using both his thumbs to soil the wetness further on your skin so near to your core, he takes in the way your cunt clenches around nothing as the plug sits cutely in your other hole. Without waiting any second longer, Sae unbuckles his belt to push his pants and boxers off, pumping himself a few times before guiding the tip against your tight entrance.

Your immense slick makes it so much easier for him to slide home, so warm and wet and tight around his cock. He lets out a low groan as your walls envelope him as easily as a sleeve, your pleased moan singing in his ears like a dirty melody.

Very much filled to the brim, both of your holes are so stretched out until there are tears clinging to your lashes.

“Fuck, stay right there, baby.” He bites down on his lips, hips stilling after bottoming out before reaching over to the nightstand, the movement causing his blunt head to involuntarily nudge against your cervix. Sae curses just as you keen at the contact, his hand grabbing the tie he’d left haphazardly after leaving the press event yesterday.

Breath hitching at the sight of the fabric in his hand, you let out a breathless chuckle as your cheek presses on the bed. “You wanna tie me up, babe?” You drawl teasingly, already half-drunk from the feeling of his cock filling you up.

A hint of a smirk appears on the midfielder’s lips. “In a way,” he replies. You’re about to ask what he means by that when he leans towards you, pulling the tie over your eyes instead, hiding away the hues he adores so much. “Oh,”

The grin on his face grows wider now that your sense of sight has been stripped away as he neatly knots the tie behind your head. “Yeah, oh.”

“Now hold on tight, would you?” That’s all the warning you get before he begins pistoning his hips against yours in a fervor, eliciting a choked moan out of your parted lips.

“O-oh, god - fuck!” The pleasure is intensified, zaps of electricity creeping up the back of your spine and piling over tenfold as the lack of vision only makes everything feels more sensitive and raw, amplified. “That’s it. Take my cock, amor.” His cock continues to drill into you, your cries and whimpers of his name and his deep grunts bouncing off the walls of the room.

Ass jiggling and drenched pussy lips stretching around his girth every time he plunges in, Sae has never seen such a staggeringly addicting sight in all his life.

He makes good use of the buttplug by shallowly moving it in and out, the dual stimulation making you bury your face into the comforter as you muffle your scream.

He can feel you clamping down on him, squeezing him so tightly that he swears he could see stars behind his lids. With both of you now close to reaching that peak, his pace only increases albeit becoming a little sloppier.

A few bruising thrusts later and you’re sent over the edge, your climax coursing over you like a tidal wave. Your pleasured cries become the final push that Sae needed before he quickly pulls out, roughly stroking himself using your cum until his own shoots out in thick ropes of white onto the globes of your ass.

He groans, a low throaty sound of satisfaction rumbling from his chest as he stares at the mess he left on your skin. Grabbing his phone that had dropped onto the bed sometime prior, he takes a quick snap before reaching over to slip the blindfold off.

Your eyes blink at the sudden brightness, thighs shaking and body spent as your top half remains laid on the bed. “Sae…? Did you just take a picture?” You ask out of curiosity from the brief sound you’d heard.

He gently pulls out the plug, rubbing at the sore skin when you let out a little yelp before he wipes his cum off your ass, smearing them right on your pussy instead. He then gives you a non-committal hum, “Yes. Now lay down properly. I’m not finished.”

Much to both of your delight, he’s not even close to being done with you. Hasn’t scratched the surface of what he had planned for you, even. Not now, not anytime soon.

Oh, you’re in for a long night ahead.

character development but it's just rye writing (lots of and more detailed) smut

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[neovillains]

A MINOR INFRACTION | TOJI FUSHIGURO

syn. you'd do anything not to get a speeding ticket. | 3.0k words ( minors, ageless, and blank blogs: do not interact. )

── police officer!toji fushiguro & fem-bodied!reader, pwp, power imbalance, a nasty & filthy blowjob, deepthroating, gagging, public sex (roadside), cum swallowing.

note. i need toji in a way that is so filthy and disgusting and nasty. it's so bad. also, here is an accurate representation of what i want to do to his cock, and what reader will be doing in this fic.

You weren’t a patient person. You didn’t like to wait for things and often found yourself impatient in long grocery lines. You’d huff and puff silently to yourself, sending people a faux smile when they dared to look in your direction. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when exactly in your life did you build up such a low tolerance for the virtue, but you don’t exactly care. If you want something, you’ve got to have it as soon as possible. And you desperately want to get home. 

Unlike the grocery store, you have an even worse tolerance for traffic and slow drivers. There were always the ones that went too slow in the fast lane, forcing you to speed past them at their selfishness; and, an asshole that never knew where they were going. Don’t even get started on the nosey people that wanted to lurk at a crime scene, always slowing down to get a good peek at a car wreckage instead of minding their own business. Any time you got the opportunity, you’d zing through the clear roads, the speedometer hitting over seventy mph in a forty-five. You usually get away with it, believing yourself to be an expert at controlling your speed and knowing just when to slow down. 

This time was no different. The moment you hopped in your car, you took a few seconds to set up a playlist before you were starting up the car and putting it in reverse. In three sharp moves, you were out of your work facility and cruising down the streets. As usual, your work days were long and you always complained of a headache right after. However, today seemed to be the worst of it as you weren’t able to get a lunch break because of the amount of call outs from work and your section of the building heavily understaffed. Your manager insisted that you would get a break at some point, but that never happened. 

You could tell that he figured your annoyance with how you failed to respond to his farewell when you let out an exasperated sigh and trudged right towards the elevators. You hadn’t uttered out a word to anyone, and that’s how you wanted it. 

Ten minutes away from home, you figured that if you just accelerated just a little bit more, you could knock it down to five minutes. The road was clear and there was only one other vehicle in sight. As long as you didn’t kill anyone, you were fine. 

You had spoken too soon. The same vehicle you mentioned prior quickly catching up to you as red and blue lights flashed behind you before the siren went off. Gripping the steering wheel, you curse. Hitting your brakes gently, you pulled up to the side of the road, tall blades of grass blowing in the cool autumn wind. You let out a sigh as you park the car, turning off the ignition as you see the black Lexus stop behind you. 

It takes you a moment to wind down the windows. Your shoulders tensing up when you see the door swinging open before seeing the officer that follows. You lean back in the seat before reaching for the top left button. Pressing down, the sound of the glass further antagonizes your migraine before feeling the shadow cast over you. You nearly jump out of your seat when you open your eyes. You clutch your chest, heart racing at the brute of a man— police officer— standing before you. 

You have to crane your head to get a good look at his face— dark hair that tickles his eyebrows, green eyes that glare down at you, and a scar on the left corner of his lips that frowns at you. His uniform holds him snuggly. Too snug, you’d say. Your eyes traverse his body at how he holds his vest, thumbs underneath as his four digits patter on top. He smirks as if he knows the effect he has on people, tilting his head as his eyebrows rise. “You’re well aware why I’m pulling you over, right?”

Your typical brazen attitude dilutes. Instead, meekly nodding your head as you let out a “yeah.”

“Can I see your license and registration?” He cuts right to the chase, taking out a small device as you fish for your purse. You grimace, reaching for your hand bag as it’s right there. However, you’re stalling and the officer can blatantly see that. “You stalling won’t make the ticket go away.”

Dropping the accessory, you fall in your seat, looking up at the officer sheepishly. You couldn’t afford to pay a five hundred dollar ticket. Actually, you could. You could fish into your savings and pay it off no deal, but you didn’t want to. “Is there any way I can not get a ticket?”

He stops tapping on the device, raising a judgemental eyebrow at you before snorting. “You can dispute it in court, but I doubt you’d win.”

You roll your eyes at the snarky comment before an epiphany courses through your body. You wind down your window even further at the possible prospects set in order as cross your arms and rest your chin down. Your eyes sparkle as you peer upwards, reading the name and badge number off of his ID. “There’s… nothing I could do to stop you from writing that ticket, Officer Fushiguro?”

“And risk my job?” Toji scoffs. “I don’t think so.”

He starts tapping away, but with a daring hand, your fingers prod at his belt. Right at the buckle before your index finger goes lower, so dangerously close to reaching for his clothed crotch. “My job has a few positions open. I can put in a good word.”

And who was he to deny a pretty thing like you, even if you offered out of your own selfishness, the cop deserved a little treat for himself. Setting down the tablet with one hand, he goes to switch off his body cam with the next. There’s a high probability that he’d get caught for this when the body cam footage gets reviewed. And, there’s a high probability of him getting suspended or fired over it, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d have to relocate to another police department for his misconduct, and he’s sure the next one would look past the sexual mishap and hire him. It always works out in his favor. 

The street is still bare and if this was kept as discreet as possible, none of the onlookers could tell what was happening. It gives Toji the go ahead when he unravels the holster, letting it hang over your door before he’s loosening the belt. He doesn’t drop his pants, only undoing the zipper enough to reveal the dark boxer briefs that do nothing to hide his heavy print. He palms at his growing erection through the fabric before pulling out his length through the opening. “Let’s put that pretty mouth to good use, yeah?”

Your eyes widen, wanting to bulge out of the sockets at the size of him. Immense length and girth that it hangs instead of stands. His mushroom tip starts leaking of translucent precum as he holds it up through the car window, resting one hand on the roof of your car as he looks down at you. He smears his pre, making the head glisten under the setting sun as he bucks his hips forward. He doesn’t have to say a word, nodding his head for you to open your mouth.

Toji’s been trying to be a better man. To hold himself to standards and do what needs to be done to make a decent living. However, vixens like you always find themselves in his pathway, a blatant trick that he always finds himself falling for. There’s hesitation in your movement, your mouth opening up a mere inch as you shuffle forward. You keep him waiting and wanting for the taste of your touch, making him impatient that his hand reaches inside to pull at your hair. Done nicely in a ponytail, it’s quickly wrecked by the strong grip of his hand forcing you closer to him. The tip of his length kisses your mouth, beckoning you to open up and invite him in just as you promised. 

This isn’t the first time he’s gotten a woman like this, talking a big game before they truly know what they’re dealing with. It makes him chuckle as he tilts his head, the right corner of his lip curving upward in a knowing grin as the sound reverberates from his chest. “What? You want that ticket after all?”

The threat of having to pay off that hefty fine is what helps you muster up the courage, pretty beady eyes that look up at him as you shake your head, no. “Don’t be stupid.”

Finally, you bring a hand to wrap around his length, your hands nowhere big enough to wrap around his impressive girth as you fix yourself in the car. Your free hand goes to unbuckle yourself as you hoist yourself to your knees. The leather seats already bring you pain as the joints dig into them, sticking your head out of the window to get in a better position. You squeeze your hand around the base, feeling the warmth of him before your fingers trickle down to grope at his balls through the uniform. They’re heavy and fat, you can feel. As you peer up at Officer Fushiguro, you can see how he clenches his jaw, not wanting to admit how the taunting action makes him feel as he still grips onto the roof of your car. 

The street’s gotten busier and the sky is darker, but still, no one can tell what’s happening as they zoom past. To them, it looks like a regular stop for a speeding ticket and he hopes to continue making it appear that way. He wants to tell you to get on with it, but your hands glide to grip his cock once more and wrap around the length. Smooth, tandem strokes as saliva pools in your mouth, making it build up before the wad lads straight to his length. You stroke his length, pumping him as he continues to grow harder in your hold. You’re no longer looking at his face, eyes solely focused on the task at hand as your mouth opens just a few centimeters. You feel the vein that runs down the underside of his shaft, rubbing your thumb against it and causing him to twitch in your hold.

You’ve managed to make him feel like he’s in your possession, like you have the say so instead of the other way around. And fuck, does it feel good to let loose. He lets out a low growl that vibrates from deep within as his shoulders fall, releasing all tension within himself. He loosens the hold on your head, but his hand never disappears completely from its place around the elastic band. He starts to wonder if this is some sort of ploy of yours to get yourself out of speeding tickets, and if he’s just one of your victims. If so, why should he care so much if he’s already fallen into your trap and under your spell? 

That migraine of yours seems to go away just by the small tug, the officer loosening the tension of the tight updo as you continue to jerk him off. The wetness of his precum mixed with your saliva makes his cock look like a porcelain prize, calling you over to finally fit him inside your mouth. Your hips shimmy as you take another inch out of the window, the meet of your chest and breasts pressing into the door window. You roll your neck before licking your lips, your pretty pupils finally looking up at him. He could’ve sworn there was a ghost of a smile on your lips, but as quick as it came, it’s gone in the flash of a mere second. 

A pebbled kiss against the urethra, your tongue pokes at it nimbly. The taste of salt against your tongue is diluted as your mouth widens. Your mouth wraps around the head of his cock in a greed as it hollows out almost immediately. Toji grits his teeth, still keeping his composure against the car. A line starts to form at the traffic light as the night grows closer and passers-by start to dig their nose into the officer, eyes trying to see past through the tint before the light turns green again. Unfortunately, Officer Fushiguro couldn’t care less anymore about the stance of his position as a policeman, so absorbed with just the simple action of getting his dick sucked to worry about the consequences. 

You hum around his length, letting out a breath through your nose as you run your tongue down the shaft. The soft and thin veil of skin that moves with the push and pull of your wet muscle before your tongue flattens out to feel the hardness of his cock. You salivate, your mouth watering as the stench of sweat and pheromones mix into your senses, the smell bringing you into a haze as you try inching closer. You take more of him, feeling the way his length dips further inside, reaching for your uvula as you subconsciously start tearing up. You restrain yourself from gagging, the corner of your lips starting to drip with spit, sliding down your face. 

You forced yourself to take majority of him in before your reflexes started to finally acting up, a stream of tears already coming to follow. Toji hissed, pulling at the ponytail to tilt your head upward. “Take it easy, doll.”

Such simple words to set yourself at ease, but simultaneously turn you on. Arousal pools into the cotton of your underwear, creating a dark patch as you nod. You bring your hand to hold around the base, pulling yourself off his length to catch a breath. And fuck, do you look so pretty like this. All teary-eyed and ruined in a matter of a couple of minutes. He loved to watch them all struggle to take his length, no matter the hole, but it was just something about ruining their mouth that always kept him going. Just seeing how messed up their faces could get when they struggled. It was an intoxicating experience. 

The cold air hits his length, making Toji inhale deeply before you’re on your second attempt. This time, you take him in gradually, bringing him in inch by inch and slowly bobbing your head. What you couldn’t get to fit, you twisted your fist around instead, pumping his cock inside of you as he started to groan and grunt. The police officer admires you from up above, cursing under his breath. “Atta girl. You’ve got it now.”

You can taste more of his salted pre, loving the way he reacts to you. Your cheeks hollow out as you make eye contact. You mewl as you grow more confidence to try and take more in once again. You push yourself deeper, letting his tip graze the back of your throat before forcing in more. You let yourself gag before pulling away, repeating it a couple of times. Your saliva bubbles, dripping down your chin and out onto the solid concrete. His grip on your hair tightens, but he never forces you down, just seemingly overwhelmed by pleasure. The dark blue sky kisses his skin finally as the moon fully peaks out from the dark clouds, the street lamps flickering on as the flashing headlights of speeding vehicles zoom past. 

This feels like a wet dream he never wants to escape as the wet sounds of you fucking your mouth on his cock gets muted by the sound of the night life. Oh, how he’d love to hear them alongside his deep moans. He was so expectant of you to disappoint, so ready to still write you up for a ticket in your failure. However, you swirl your tongue over his tip as he can feel that curdle in his stomach. You switch from tantalizing swirls to bobbing your head up and down, looking so pleased with yourself for making the officer on duty fall apart. 

“Fuuuck,” he drawls. There’s no alert of his approaching orgasm, simply shooting thick ropes into your mouth that you nearly choke on his seed. It’s so copious as you come to sing out high-pitched mewls. However, you’re still a relentless slut, continuing your sexual administrations on his length as his cum drips from the corners of your lips as well. He bucks his hips into you, eyes shutting as his sensitive head feels wrecked. You finally pull back, letting what’s left of his cum pool underneath your tongue before spitting it right out and letting it drip down his length. You jerk him off with quick thrusts of your hand, watching the way his hips stutter ever so slightly as he still tries to keep himself together. It seems useless with a woman like you as suck and guzzle at his tip. This second orgasm was quicker to approach than the first one, his sensitive urethra spurting out a thinner veil of cum. With brute strength, his grip on your head only tightens as he forces you down on his cock, making his head kiss the back of your throat to empty himself inside of you. 

He could tell you’re the type of gal to go at it all night if you could, pulling you off of his length with a muted pop as he looks down at your face. You look so much prettier like this. Makeup all ruined as you’re all teary-eyed and a mess. He’s a man true to his word, no longer going to write you a ticket. However, he didn’t want to waste this opportunity, wanting a taste of that pussy. Is it as good as your mouth is?

When he catches his breath, his chest rising and falling, through his hooded hazel eyes, his grins sinisterly. “I dunno. I think I’mma still have t’write up that ticket, ma’am.”

Your eyes widen as your chest heaves. “Wha—”

Inside, he reaches to unlock your door, pulling the handle open before forcing you to lean back. “I think your pussy will certainly do the trick.”

🕷. @r0ckst4rjk @kasukuna @pixelcafe-network

[seelestia]

✦ how can you tell? (of how easily i fall at your feet.)

⎯ oh, how love bleeds from just one gesture. ( some telltale signs that they might've fallen for you. )

#STARRING. neuvillette, wriothesley & lyney ft. gn!reader. { 2.4k words }

#TAGS. sfw, fluff & crack, major pining (!!!). more: neuvi has 1 extra part bcs i realized too late, wrio is a rascal /aff, lynette is a professional wingwoman here (everyone, applaud!!), mentions of various fontaine npc's.

#P/S. pardon my rusty writing and ideas but alas, may i entice you with some fontaine gentlemen on this fine day?? (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) ੭

★ 〜 masterlist.

© seelestia on tumblr, apr 2024. please do not repost to another platform, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

⎯ neuvillette's love is subtle, hidden behind a veil of formal courtesy. the iudex is the nation's symbol of impartiality; personal relationships, a common factor of inciting bias in one's judgement, are to be sifted through wisely. he can choose which he ends up keeping, yet he cannot choose which he ends up wanting. what of a relationship he desires but cannot keep? a conundrum but still, his affections for you seep through the crevices.

it's in the way. . . your name becomes a beloved among the melusines, you wonder why?

it goes without saying that every citizen of fontaine acknowledges melusines to be friendly creatures. all of them are sweethearts! ...but is it you or is there some form of hidden favoritism here?

for some reason, they always seem to go out of their ways to greet you on the streets. a “hello, mx. [name]!” from the right then a “good day, mx. [name]!” from the left. maybe a “stay safe, mx. [name]!” on days when it's crowded too... you're starting to think the quota of greetings you receive is much bigger than everyone else.

before long, even your arms are getting piled up with favors. one ticket for a seat in the opera epiclese from aeife, a slice of cake from sedene, some high-quality butter from muirne, a free beverage from menthe — you lost count of the freebies you've received already.

what's going on? it is as if there's a badge of approval from someone just hanging over your head. visible to a melusine's eyes, but not to yours. (you've heard that melusines perceive things differently than humans, though.)

but who are you to complain? you're not immune to their contagious smiles each time you pass by. on some days, you even entertain the thought that they are more familiar with you than you are with them. all in a humorous sense, of course.

ironically enough, this theory wouldn't take long to ring true: having received a bouquet of your favorite dessert from café lutece on your birthday from kiara, this coincidence only feeds into your suspicion even more.

a considerate gesture but surely, they don't do this for everyone? you don't recall ever telling your usual order and birthdate to a melusine before. your mind scrambles around for a memory you might've missed. who could've—

“oh, yes... i almost forgot,” kiara holds her chin in thought. “monsieur neuvillette says to send you his regards,” she nods, relieved that the message did not make its narrow escape from her mind. but blissfully unaware of the impact her words have left on you.

“goodbye, mx. [name]!” the melusine bids you farewell with a cheery wave. you murmur back a response but it comes out incoherent at best — you are simply too dumbfounded by the realization.

...so, that's who.

(wait a second, is arouet in on this too?!)

it's in the way. . . he begins to take longer breaks, hoping to run into you in front of the palais.

taking quiet strolls just outside the palais is, more often than not, neuvillette's idea of rest from work. although some might expect the iudex to have chosen a more 'creative' or luxurious location, but he digresses.

this place is near his office so less time is wasted on the journey back, liath also patrols here so he has the opportunity to inquire about her well-being — and occasionally, he stumbles upon you as well.

'occasionally' is the keyword: neuvillette has always preferred order and routine above chances and coincidences. but something about this idiosyncrasy — the tendency to linger beyond his usual duration, the act of stalling to hold onto hope that you might pass by today — is a indication of hypocrisy he wishes not to comment on.

sometimes, he closes his eyes so that his ears may be more attuned to the sound of your voice. sometimes, he opens his eyes so that they may look around for a glimpse of your face. who's to say if he'll ever be graced by your presence? it is all in fate's hands.

call it an odd method of manifestation, a childish one that even neuvillette scoffs at himself for. sometimes, it doesn't work, of course. not that he ever expects it to — but oh, when it does.

“...monsieur?” your voice cuts through the silence in his mind. he takes the sight of you in; a polite greeting on your tongue, several grocery bags in your arms and that beam on your face as you say, “what a coincidence to see you here.”

the iudex finds that he doesn't mind having his privacy briefly interrupted. not at all. not when it's like this, not when it's by you. alas, it seems that fate has smiled down on him today.

“yes, hello. what a serendipitous coincidence indeed.”

neuvillette smiles, he can't help it. perhaps, he might grow a soft spot for coincidences, after all.

(you sneak a brief glance at the sky with a squint. ...is it just you or are the clouds clearing up a little?)

⎯ wriothesley's love is beguiling, the kind of adventure that keeps you on your toes. a forthright gentleman; he is the type to know what he wants and he wants you. with him, you'll taste whiplash like never before. butterflies in your stomach, the urge to throw a shoe at him, you'll get it all. but an adventure isn't an adventure without breaks in between and it's at that very moment where you'll find you adore him the most... when he rests his head on your lap, momentarily free from worldly titles, breathing like the man who longs for warmth that he has always been.

it's in the way. . . he always offers you tea when really, he just wants you to stay.

everyone knows that wriothesley enjoys his tea — but that's only because he sees no need to hide his preferences; not his craving for a cup of tea when afternoon arrives nor his fondness for you either.

he doesn't conceal it, but doesn't bring attention to it either. wriothesley likes to think that only those with discerning eyes can pick up on the miniscule (???) hints he drops. that is, if saying “why not stay for some tea?” is even considered a subtle clue at all... maybe, he's mixing up polite courtesy with flirting a bit too much.

but who cares? in the grand scheme of things, the fun is seeing whether you'll figure it out or not. and let's be frank here; wriothesley is a patient man in all aspects, able to play the long game like no other.

don't worry, you may take as long as you want to — ironic since you're technically the only player in this 'game' — but hey, he has faith in your abilities! besides, you get to enjoy a cup of free tea (and with his company, preferably). surely, you can't complain about that? ...hah, he's just teasing you.

tick-tock! tick-tock!

the clock strikes twelve in the afternoon.

“ah, finally a well-deserved break.” the tone in which wriothesley pairs with that grin on his face is nothing less than devious. the glance he throws your way as he set aside the documents on his desk is something. or rather, it's suggesting something.

and frankly, you've experienced this many times enough to know what the underlying meaning is. “let me guess...” you let out a sigh, “you're asking me to have tea with you again?”

the emphasis on the last word is definitely, wholly intentional. you're sure wriothesley knows that too — “bingo,” he hums at you, sounds almost like a whistle. “you're getting more and more clever. must be all the tea i made you.”

“don't flatter yourself,” you roll your eyes at his attempted jest but you take a seat on his office couch, anyway. your own unique and adorable way of saying yes, he learned. still, wriothesley thinks that exasperated look on your face is an absolute marvel... and maybe, that little smile tugging on your lips you're trying to fight, too.

“same as usual?” he asks, pushing back his chair with a proud grin still plastered on his face that you wish you can wipe off.

but instead, you shake your head fondly at his antics. “mhm,” and rest a cheek on your fist. watching him tiredly, you realize you could get used to this. maybe.

wriothesley smiles to himself. looks like you figured out the tea has always been an excuse, after all.

(you've won the game, congrats! a subsidiary reward is a comment from sigewinne about how this tea routine between the two of you bears a resemblance to an elderly human couple's. she means it, innocently sincere.)

⎯ lyney's love can be faceted at first, one with such a smooth surface that you never imagined there would be so many layers underneath. joy and bliss, sorrow and burdens; all cramped and stuffed together behind his mask of perfection on the stage, a mask akin to a child's treasure chest almost bursting at the seams. you can unravel him if you tried, you can take off that mask if you reached out. and when you do, you'll find beautiful violet eyes staring right back at you, thankful, imploring you to go further.

it's in the way. . . his bravado dissipates around you, nerves scattering like confetti that bursts from his hat on stage.

they say that the first impression is the best impression — or at least, lyney hopes that's the case with all of the interesting impressions he has left on you so far. his instinct by nature is to impress, to bedazzle and that hasn't stopped since meeting you for the first time.

trying doesn't always lead to success, however. you stuttered in front of them twice, lynette pointed out after the first time he spoke to you. that fact spooked the poor magician so much he stayed up rethinking the conversation under the cover of his blanket. lynette isn't wrong per se, but lyney firmly believes that he will leave a better impression... one day, somehow, no matter how many times it takes!

he is a magician; charisma and charms should have or rather, already have come easily to him. his persona on the stage is no lie — just a tiny concerted exaggeration, maybe — but you've been among his audience before. you've seen what he is capable of. so surely, you'd know that lyney isn't really as demure and easily flustered as you might think he is... because no punches held back, he acts like that every time you talk to him.

he can't help it and that, exactly, is what makes it worse.

how many times have he cupped his face and mumbled nonsense into his hands for failing to impress you yet again? you're so wonderful and he's just so... miserable. this is unlike him. he has to wonder why you still look for him after each performance when you know you'll be greeted by his being a wreck.

maybe they like you that way, freminet tried to help. or maybe they like you no matter what, lynette chipped in. that had lyney pondering for a long, long, long time which translates into weeks.

will the day come where he presents you with a rainbow rose and professes his feelings for you without losing his nerves? he can only hope (and try, one day).

it never gets old.

when his feet step off the stage and the curtains have fallen, the satisfaction that spreads all the way to his fingertips never fails to disappoint. but with that, also comes the imminent feeling of anticipation.

for each performance he delivers, a visitor is bound to linger. when all members in the audience would head to the entrance of the opera epiclese to leave, one of them would stay. waiting patiently to be beckoned to the backstage. it's been a routine for so long, after all.

“lyney?”

right on cue.

your voice greets his ears, a sound that he can admit he misses only to himself. he exhales, a placating act to shush his beating heart from growing any louder.

“ah, [name]!” the magician enunciates your name with a certain type of fanfare. “here to lend a hand again, i assume?” he tries to shoot you a confident grin, but you aren't gullible enough to not see the tint of red blooming on his cheeks.

you stifle a chuckle at his (attempt at a) bold opening. “of course,“ said with a nod and a silly thought along the lines of: he's cute.

your honest and calm response takes him by surprise. he blinks a tad. oh, it seems the thrill from the show a few minutes prior still hasn't worn off. perhaps, he's still all too used to the crowd's shouts and cheers... not that he expects you to start yelling, of course!

“i see,” lyney feigns a cough to recollect his composure. now that he is cognizant of the fact it's just the two of you, he shrinks down into a more casual version of himself with a nervous chuckle.

“will you... be staying for long?” he asks, bashful. the question sounds more genuine than just a mere pleasantry. his eyes look hopeful, twinkling at the thought of having your presence around. his fingers have even come up to scratch at the side of his neck, you don't think lyney even realizes he is doing that.

who are you to say no? you smile. “well, my schedule's pretty empty today.”

his lips instantly break into a grin, brighter than one he usually has onstage. “that's actually marv—” he starts.

“that's great,” a familiar monotonous voice cuts in. lynette peers from behind you with a hum, “we could use more hands to pack up the new props.” oh, and that brief glint of mischief in her feline eyes as she watches how lyney gapes at her sudden intrusion.

“sure!” you glance back at her, oblivious to it all. “thanks for letting me in, lynette. i'll try my best to help.” even if you admit that one of the reasons you're here is for lyney, but you can't discredit his twin sister for allowing you to enter here in the first place. a free backstage pass in exchange for free labor, quite a fair deal.

with your back turned to him, lyney takes the chance to mouth his own words of disbelief to lynette. incomprehensible except for that one i can't believe you're doing this! that she manages to catch.

“no problem,” she observes her brother over your shoulder with keen interest, “everyone knows how fond lyney is of you.”

there is a series of spluttering noises behind you. a certain magician finds himself at the verge of choking on mere oxygen.

“lynette!”

but really, she has no doubt that lyney has fallen head over heels for you. hook, line and sinker.

— thank you for reading! reblogs and comments are most appreciated. ♡

[alloftheimaginesblog]

ready (klaus mikaelson)

plot: klaus always knew that one day you'd take him up on his offer.

character: female vampire reader x klaus mikaelson

inspired by something similar he says to caroline

"One day, love, you'll come to me. Might be in two years, might be two hundred but mark my words, you'll realise I was right along. I am the only one who can fulfil your wildest desires and your largest dreams. When you realise that, you'll come knocking on my door and then... well, love, then I'll give you the world."

It had been three and a half years since Klaus Mikaelson had said this to you. Three long years. He'd came into your life as a villain, you were supposed to hate him. He had killed, harmed and tortured so many of your friends (and his sister had tortured you a fair few times) and yet, he was always so delicate and gentle with you. He'd been interested in you pretty much ever since he came to Mystic Falls. You'd hated him... or at least, you tried.

He had gotten under your skin all of those years ago. He'd saved you too many times to count. He had shown you kindness and compassion, had recognised you for who you were; Klaus had seen you. You'd gotten to see a glimpse of the human side to him, not the scary big bad wolf, you'd started to see him. And when he left, with an invite extended your way, it took everything in you to say no.

Klaus hadn't stepped foot in Mystic Falls since he left and yet, every few months or so, he would write to you. Seldom did you respond but you enjoyed reading about his travels. Each time he wrote, he would send photos of the new place he was visiting usually with a list of reasons as to why you'd love it there with drawings he'd done and every single time he wrote, he attached a plane ticket to whatever destination with your name on it. You never used them, instead they gathered dust in a drawer which was full of his old letters. Klaus also always wrote exactly where he was staying at the end of the letter so you knew exactly how to get to him. Periodically, you'd go through and read some of them. They always smelled like him and had the same send off each time.

'Unequivocally yours, Klaus'

You knew that if you needed him, he would be there immediately. He had promised you as such. And the one time you called for help when Caroline got bit by a werewolf, Klaus couldn't be there in person but he sent Elijah with a few vials of his blood (extras for any future emergencies). He would do anything for you and all he wanted was the chance to show you as such.

So when this month's letter arrived with details of his new adventure complete with a plane ticket to Italy, you decided to take the chance you'd regretted not taking three and a half years prior. Your friends were oddly supportive which surprised you but Bonnie had told you she wanted you to be happy and if he's what made you happy then so be it. Damon wasn't impressed but he rarely ever was. Stefan urged you to your happy ending. Caroline approved, she'd seen the way Klaus would've done anything for you so even though she didn't like him, she knew that he was the real deal. Elena was supportive, she'd gone for the 'bad guy' in Damon so she understood the inner conflict and told you that it was okay to let yourself be happy.

So, you packed a bag and headed to Italy.

Getting there was the easy bit; the hard bit was finding the courage to knock on the front door. Your heart hammered in your chest as you stood on the grounds of what you could only describe as a small castle. It was beautiful, with glorious gardens and fragrant flowers. You swallowed hard before taking a breath, this is what you came for, and you knocked three times.

After a few seconds, you could hear someone's voice approaching. Klaus.

"-I didn't ask you to go to such lengths, brother, though I have to say I do appreciate it-"

He opened the door and his expression turned from one of mild annoyance to complete shock.

"Elijah, more important matters have emerged, I'll speak to you later." He hung up, pocketing his phone quickly. He looked good. The Italian sun suited him, turning his hair a shade blonder and making his blue eyes pop, "(y/n)..." A slow, wide smile spread onto his face.

You swallowed hard, "Hi, Klaus."

He stepped aside, silently inviting you into his castle, and with a small smile you breezed past him. He closed the door and led you through to a grand room with various couches and paintings. You looked around incredulously, "This place... it's incredible."

Klaus smiled, "I told you that you'd like this one."

You looked at him and felt nerves bubble in your stomach. You'd came all this way and now... you didn't know what to do. Klaus eyed you curiously, trying to gauge how you were feeling, "Do you need something?" Oh, how he hoped that you were here for him but he had to be sure.

You shook your head, finding words too hard to find, and instead looked back to the paintings, "These are beautiful, did you do these?"

Klaus appeared at your side, making you jump slightly, "Sorry, love," he smirked. He was so close to you, so near that you could smell his cologne. Your heart raced. His hand reached out past you to touch the painting, "I painted all of these, yes. This one is my favourite."

"The colours are lovely," you nodded.

Klaus smiled, quickly vanishing and then returning to your side, "Here, look in the mirror and then look at the painting."

You frowned at him but complied regardless of your confusion. He handed you a small hand mirror which you looked into and then at the painting, "I don't get it," you said to which he urged you to look again and then you realised, "my eyes."

Klaus grinned, "There we go, love," he beamed proudly, "my favourite colours and shades to use. They crop up a lot in my paintings. Go, look," he encouraged you forwards, "take a look and you'll see how often you feature in my paintings."

For a moment, you walked around the room, soaking in the subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) hints of your eye colour in every single one of his paintings. It touched you causing you to feel warm inside and you couldn't understand why. You looked at him. He stood on the other side of the room watching you with awe filled eyes, "But why?" You asked softly with tears filling your eyes, "Why me?"

In an instant, he was in front of you, chest touching yours, with his eyes locked with yours, "Oh, love," he whispered, hand reaching out to graze your cheek softly, "It's always been you."

You looked up at him, "You asked me if I needed something earlier." Klaus's brow furrowed and his hand stilled - fear; fear that you weren't here for him, fear that you needed something and then you'd disappear again. "I do need something, Klaus."

"Anything."

"I want... I need you." Your admission was quiet but he heard you loud and clear, "For years, I've regretted saying no to your offer to come with you. I want to live, Klaus. I want to be free. I want to be happy and that means letting myself be happy with... you."

"Me?" Klaus asked.

You nodded as your own hand found its way to rest on his chest, "I'm ready to fall in love with you, Klaus. I just hope I'm not too late."

He grinned, wider than you'd ever seen him smile, "You're right on time, love," he said before his lips crashed to yours. And for the first time ever, you let yourself give in.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

It Couple || Young!Coriolanus Snow x Capitol!reader

GIF by @youremyvioleta and divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: just you and Coryo being the it couple at the academy 🤭

Warnings: fem!reader, idk if there’s anything else

Wc: 691

A/n: pls send thru fic requests for Tom!!!!

In the bustling halls of the Academy, you, the epitome of popularity, gracefully navigate the sea of admiring glances. You weren't particularly sure what factor of you made you so popular, maybe it was your kindness, looks, money, name? Whatever the reason may be you liked to bask in it, not in the cocky manner.

Your perfectly coordinated and confident demeanor were enough to turn any mundane day into a spectacle worth watching. Coriolanus Snow, the charming heartthrob of the academy, with his disheveled yet effortlessly handsome appearance, awaited you by your locker.

As he caught sight of you, a charming smile graced his lips, and he fell into step beside you. "Good morning, my love," Coryo said, his voice a velvet murmur that sent shivers down your spine. "Good morning, Coryo," your replied with a playful smirk, your eyes meeting his as you exchange a knowing look.

The chemistry between you was undeniable, and it added an extra layer of glamour to the 'it couple' status you both held. The title for it really came from a joke by Clemmie at the cafeteria as fellow students from younger years would shamelessly stare at you and Coryo doing such simple things, which in that case, was simply walking to your table.

From that day forward, the title flourished and spread around the academy. Instead of referring to you and Coryo in the context of you being together, they referred the two of you as the 'it couple'. It was quite undisputed, turning heads and sparking envy among your peers.

As you and Coriolanus walk side by side through the halls of the academy, whispers of admiration trail in your wake. Your relationship with Snow was the talk of the academy, maybe even the Capitol due to your high statuses. The two of you becoming a symbol of perfection, setting the standard for others to emulate.

"Snow and Y/l/n, they're practically royalty around here,' a hushed voice echoed from a cluster of students, "I wish I could be in their group for projects, It's like a ticket to instant success,' another voice chimed in.

Meanwhile, Coriolanus slid his arm around you waist, pulling you in a little closer with a smirk on his lips. "Do you see the way everyone's looking at us," he remarked, his eyes glinting with a mixture of pride and mischief.

It was undeniable that Coryo loved the attention. Even before the two of you started dating he would get attention, but now, it was different. "You just love the attention, don't you?" You teased, leaning into his touch.

He chuckled, a low, melodic sound that resonated through the hallway. "Guilty as charged. But it's even better when I get to share it with you, dove." Coryo purrs, his grip on your waist tightening as you giggle.

~

The day unfolded with the usual whirlwind of the classes, but it was during the partnered projects that your unity truly shone. In the lab, you and Coriolanus blended intellect and charm seamlessly, leaving your classmates in awe.

"How do they nail it every time," Io Jasper sighs making those around her chuckle, as they agree after seeing the elaborate model you and Coriolanus crafted. Coriolanus, known for his silver-tongued wit, had a way of making even the most tedious assignments feel like a delightful escapade.

~

Most, if not, all of the Academy's social events became your stage without you giving it much thought, and you and Coriolanus were the headline act. A grand ball celebrating the academy's founding anniversary was the the definition of lavish.

Dressed in a gorgeous dress that rivaled the stars, you walk into Heavensbee hall, your arm linked with Coriolanus. People around the entrance elicit gasps as the spotlight found the two of you.

Arachne rolls her eyes, observing the two of you with a group of friends. "How do they manage to look flawless all the time?" she comments, shaking her head. "It's nauseating." She finishes, tilting her head back to savor a sip of posca. Clemensia chuckles softly, "Well, there's a reason they're known as the 'it couple,'" she says, shrugging casually.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When You Give Them Space | Chan + Minho | Pt4

pt1 pt2 pt3

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Chan

Chan had been restless for days, pacing his studio floor, his heart heavy with guilt.

You were supposed to be back home in Korea three days ago. But instead he got these strange texts and hadn't heard from you since.

He hadn't texted since either. A part of him wished he did but he was scared.

Because what if-

No. You weren't the type to do that.

He deeply regretted the texts he had sent to you. The replayed in his mind, the words he’d typed out, the anger, the frustration…the way he said he had shipped you off because, as he so rudely put it, you were “nagging” him.

You dumb fuck what were you even thinking sending that??

Sure it was annoying to get notif after notif- especially when he was trying to finish a track for a show that would be premiering in the upcoming weeks. But it wasn't your fault that the company had fucked up with the time management- since he had already had to help three girl groups with their production.

So he had gotten you a ticket home, hoping that maybe he could knock everything out while you were away. Since he knew you would make him take a break if you were here.

You would make him take care of himself.

But even when you were thousands of miles away you still made sure he was taken care of.

And he took that for granted; and was an absolute jerk.

What the hell was I thinking?

Chan groaned, running a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of his own stupidity. His phone buzzed - a message from Han:

Lights are on at Y/N's place. Bro, fix it.

He didn't need any more encouragement. Grabbing his jacket and keys, Chan headed straight for your apartment, determined to set things right, even if he had to grovel.

I'll grovel. For as long as you make me.

Arriving at your apartment, Chan noticed a pair of men’s shoes at the door. Combat boots.

He stopped, confusion twisting in his gut. That wasn’t right. They weren't his. It was brand he was unfamiliar with; one he hadn't purchased from before so who-

No...Y/N wouldn't.

His heartbeat quickened as he pushed open the door cautiously. The smell of food wafted out from the kitchen, and he could hear someone rummaging around. Then, out walked a guy- tall, broad, and way too casual, holding a bowl of ramen in one hand a fork in the other and looking at Chan like he had every right to be there.

"Oh, hey bro," the guy said, grinning as he stuffed a mouthful of noodles in his mouth. "You must be the ex." He stretched out the "x" sound, stuffing a forkful of noodles in his mouth.

Chan froze. The word ex sent a sharp sting through his chest. "Ex?" he repeated, his voice low with disbelief.

"Yeah," the guy continued, setting the bowl down like this wasn’t the most awkward interaction ever. "Heard you shipped Y/N off. A little bit harsh, if you ask me, but hey, Y/N can be a handful."

Chan's jaw tightened, anger flaring up. Who was this guy? Why was he acting like you were-

"Who the hell are you?"

The guy smirked, wiping his hands nonchalantly. "Oh, me? I’m just the guy who loves Y/N."

Chan took a step forward, his fists clenched. "You better start explaining yourself before I-"

Before Chan could finish, the sound of your voice cut through the tension.

“What the hell is going on here?”

You stood at the bathroom doorway, still in a towel with wet hair dripping onto your shoulders, eyes narrowing in frustration.

Chan whipped around, his expression a mix of confusion and anger. "Who is this?" he demanded, pointing to the guy.

The guy grinned, looking entirely too smug. “Haven’t told him yet? Wow, you’re brutal.”

You shot him a deadly look. "You, sit your ass down and shut the hell up. I swear, you have no sense. Must have been all the times Dad dropped you."

Chan blinked, his anger momentarily paused by his confusion. "Wait…what?"

You sighed, rubbing your temples as if dealing with two idiots at once was too much. "Chan, this is my brother. He’s on break from the military. And you," you turned your glare toward your brother, "are being an idiot for messing with him when you know damn well what’s been going on."

Your brother had the audacity to smirk, plopping down on the couch and grabbing his ramen again. "Well, maybe if someone hadn’t sent you those dickish texts, I wouldn’t have had to step in. You've always been a pushover." He stuffed his mouth again, speaking around the food. "You forgive too easily so I had to give your boyfriend a little hell for it."

Chan looked bewildered, turning between you and your brother. "Wait, you sent those texts?"

Your brother chuckled. "Yeah, saw what you sent her before, and well- someone had to put you in your place. ‘Nagging too much’? C’mon, man, that’s some weak stuff. Didn’t your mom teach you better than to talk to your partner like that?”

You slapped your brother’s arm. "You idiot! Do you know how much drama you just caused?! Chris is an overthinker!"

“Yeah, well, I figured it was time to teach your boyfriend some respect."

"How the hell did you even figure out my password?!"

"JiminJinfangirl21 has been your password to everything for the longest time. It was an easy guess."

Your face turned read and you looked at Chan. "I can explain-"

Chan, still processing the fact your brother sent the messages turned to you. "Wait- so when I got those texts-"

"I was taking a nap, and he was being an instigating moron!" You gestured to your brother, who just winked at Chan, clearly not sorry.

"But why didn't you come home..."

You rose an eyebrow. "Because I wanted to be petty. And my brother was going to fly out to meet you anyways- it was going to be a surprise- so I just waited so we could be on the same flight."

Chan looked between you two, and then it hit him. Everything. The argument, the misunderstanding, his own stupidity. His expression softened. “Y/N… I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how much trouble I was causing by acting like this. You've always been forgiving and I was just expecting to apologize and get your forgiveness like always. Its idiotic of me to think that's a good excuse to say things like that to you. What I said, it was wrong. I have no excuses."

You crossed your arms, your tone firm but softening. "Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have said what you did. It was mean. And extremely hurtful. The fact that you would 'send me away' for it really made me feel like my existence is just a burden to you."

Chan's eyes widened in fear. "It's not! Y/N please please believe me it isn't."

"I know it isn't, pabo..." You sighed. "I do nag you sometimes, but it’s because I care. I care too much because I love you so much. I thought maybe if it came from me, you’d actually listen. But if you don’t want me to, I’ll stop."

"No." Chan stepped closer, his eyes filled with sincerity. "Please don’t. Don’t stop. I’d rather have you nag at me a thousand times than not hear from you at all. I-" he swallowed, his voice catching slightly. "I need you, Y/N. You’re my anchor. I know I’ve been an idiot, but I don’t want to lose you over my own insecurities and frustrations."

Your eyes softened, the weight of his words sinking in. "Chan I don’t want to lose you either. Ever. But you have to start listening when I’m trying to help, not just push me away. Rather than just me everyone. We all want to help. And you can't treat me like that because you know I will forgive you...it's a bit manipulative. And I know that's not you which is why I'm forgiving you. But you wouldn't feel so stressed if you listened." You pouted stubbornly.

He nodded, stepping closer and reaching for your hand. "I promise. I’ll listen, baby. I’ll be better. Just…please, don’t give up on me."

You rolled your eyes. "Chan, what in this conversation made you think I would ever give up on you. You're insufferable." You said giving a breathy laugh and planting a quick and light kiss on his lips.

Your brother, who had been watching this exchange with mild interest, suddenly chimed in, “Aww, look at you two. This is cute and all, but I’m too young to have nieces and nephews.”

Both you and Chan turned to him, your annoyance in perfect sync.

“No, that’s not what-” Chan stammered, waving his hands in protest.

"Didn’t I tell you to shut up?" You grabbed a throw pillow and launched it at your brother, who caught it with a grin.

“Oh, come on, I’m just playing-”

Before he could finish, you charged at him, and within seconds, the two of you were wrestling on the couch. Chan watched in half-horror, half-amusement as your brother tackled you, the bowl of ramen teetering precariously on the edge of the table before falling onto the floor with a crash.

"Y/N!" your brother howled, dodging your attempts to hit him with another pillow. "You’re too slow!"

“I swear, either you’re going back to the military today or we're doing bathroom surgery with my foot and you'll never give me any nieces or nephews." You growled as you tried to kick your brother off of you- him just dodging that DIY vasectomy as you struggled under his weight. “Babe, help me!”

Chan, shaking his head with a fond smile, stepped forward and pulled your brother off you. "Alright, man, that’s enough. She’s gonna break your neck at this rate."

Your brother sat up, wiping a bit of ramen broth off his cheek, still laughing. "Fine, fine, I surrender. But only ‘cause I don't think a 2v1 would be fair." He eyed Chan's muscle definition. "You box?"

You got up, smoothing your hair with a huff and looking at Chan cutting him off before he could answer your brother. "Can we please lock him out of my apartment?"

Chan chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Maybe after I get him to clean up his mess." He said squatting down to pick up the fork.

Your brother raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Clean up? If Mom were here, she'd tell you to do it since you started it. Unless your boyfriend wants to-"

This time it was Chan who grabbed the pillow and aimed it right at his face.

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Minho

As Chan’s car rumbled down the gravel road, Minho stared anxiously out the window, his leg bouncing restlessly. A location pin in the middle of nowhere. No explanation although he asked.

His mind was racing, the earlier argument replaying in his head on a constant loop.

"I bet Y/N is fine. There is no reason to lie about being fine in this kind of situation. If there was any immediate danger I'm more than sure there would have been a deeper explanation." Chan said as he swerved through the wooded road.

But Minho's mind was racing with other things.

You were fine. He believe you. But this was a harsh reality check for him.

God forbid if you weren't okay...

He would have lived with an immense guilt.

The words he had thrown at you- inadvertently calling you a moocher, saying you texted too much, basically calling you useless- they weren’t true, not really. Not at all.

He willingly gave you everything he had. And would give you more if it wasn't for you constantly saying he was too generous.

He’d just been frustrated, tired. In the middle of another useless meeting, coming back from an argument with a choreographer. But now, sitting in the car with nothing but the quiet hum of the engine, the crunch of the tires and gravel and his guilt gnawing at him, he wished he could take it all back.

As they neared the spot where you were supposed to be, Minho’s heart pounded in his chest. The second he spotted you illuminated in Chan's headlights standing in the distance, his breath caught in his throat while his Hyung letting out a traitorous gasp. You were hunched over something, and as the car rolled to a stop, his heart plummeted.

Blood.

Streaks of red were smeared across your white shirt. His stomach twisted, ice flooding his veins.

"Oh my God-" Minho’s voice cracked as he fumbled with the seatbelt, barely getting it off before stumbling out of the car. His hands were shaking, his mind racing through a million terrifying scenarios. His entire body felt like it was seizing up with fear. "Are you hurt?!" he shouted, his voice louder and more frantic than he intended. "Jagi, are you hurt?!"

Chan was quick to jump out after him, grabbing his arm to keep him grounded. "Minho, calm down," Chan said firmly, trying to steady him. "Let’s just see what’s going on."

Minho barely heard him, his eyes fixated on the blood staining your clothes. Not even able to notice the utterly calm look you had on your face. Although that hadn't been overlooked by Chan.

His heart was in his throat, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts. Every worst-case scenario flooded his mind in an instant.

"Y/N!" he called again, stumbling toward you, his knees weak. But as he got closer, his eyes shifted to what was in your arms.

Not you.

The blood wasn't yours.

It was a cat.

Minho stopped dead in his tracks, his panic still buzzing in his veins, but slowly starting to ebb as he processed what he was seeing. The cat in your arms was bloodied, its fur matted and filthy. You were cradling it like it was made of glass, your expression filled with worry.

Chan’s hand was still on Minho’s arm, and he felt the pressure ease slightly as his best friend let out a long breath. "See? Y/N is fine," Chan said in quiet relief, though there was still a hint of concern in his voice.

Minho’s chest tightened, his heart hammering in his ears. Fine? You were standing in the middle of nowhere, covered in blood. Sure, it wasn’t yours, but the shock still rattled through him, his pulse thrumming wildly.

You only acknowledged your boyfriend when you looked up to see him hovering. In an instant he was sat next to you.

Minho’s fingers brushed lightly through the cat’s blood-matted fur, his touch so delicate you almost didn’t feel it. He gently took the cat out of your arms and cradled it closer, his thumb running carefully over its ear in slow, soothing motions. You watched as his face softened in a way you rarely saw, his eyes wide with awe, as if this was the first cat he had ever seen.

"Pretty girl..." He murmured as the cat purred lightly. "Such a pretty girl...shh it's okay...tsk tsk tsk." He bopped her nose.

It was almost amusing, the way he looked at the cat like it was a rare treasure. You knew Minho loved cats- he always had -but this was on another level. His gaze was intense, focused entirely on the creature in his arms, like nothing else in the world existed. It was hard not to crack a smile despite the situation. His affection for the cat was so consuming that it momentarily made you forget the harsh words from earlier.

The entire reason you had gone on a walk to clear your mind- which had turned into looking for the cat you had texted him about.

His fingers moved in a rhythmic pattern, slow and deliberate, as if he was committing every inch of the cat’s fur to memory. "You’re okay, baby" he whispered to the cat, his voice barely audible, yet full of so much tenderness it made your chest ache.

For a second, it was like he was in his own world, completely absorbed in comforting the injured animal. It was almost absurd, watching him act like this was the only cat that had ever graced the earth, and you internally laughed at the thought of Soonie, Doongie, and Dori seeing their dad like this.

The way his eyes never left the cat’s mismatched ones, like they had some sort of silent understanding between them- it would have been funny if it weren’t so strangely touching.

"“You’ve seen cats before, Minho," you teased lightly,brushing some dirt off of yourself and picking at the dried blood. "You look like this is the first one you’ve ever laid eyes on."

Minho didn’t even blink, his attention still locked on the cat, but the corner of his lips tugged upward slightly. "This one’s different," he murmured, and his voice held a possessiveness that surprised you. It was like he was staking a claim, not just over the cat, but over the moment itself, like this was something only the two of you shared.

You couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight of him. The earlier argument seemed to fade into the background, and for a moment, it was just you, Minho, and the cat- your cat, you realized. In the moment you had decided she would be yours. There was something strangely comforting about the way he handled the situation, so focused on caring for the small, fragile life in his hands.

"I think it's just a rough cut...like she got her paw stuck in something." He said as he gently prodded the small creature. "She'll be okay if we bandage her up."

"Then I’ll take my baby home," you whispered after a while, trying to reclaim a little of the tension that had ebbed away out of pure pettiness, but it came out more tired than you expected, thus not receiving the response you wanted. You reached for your cat but Minho pulled back.

Without missing a beat, his eyes snapped up to yours. "Our baby," he corrected, his voice firm yet soft, almost possessive as he held the cat closer to his chest. There was a protective edge to his tone, like he wouldn’t let anyone, or anything come between him and this cat.

You blinked at him in surprise. "What?"

"Our baby," Minho repeated, more certain this time, his thumb brushing against the cat’s ear again with so much gentleness it made your heart twist. His eyes were locked on yours now, no longer just on the cat. "Ours."

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. There was something about the way he said "ours" that made the pit in your stomach ease, a warmth spreading in its place.

The ride back to your place was quiet, with Minho still cradling the cat like it was the most important thing in the world. You leaned back in your seat, your mind replaying the argument from earlier. His words had hurt, but now seeing him like this- so tender and protective -it was hard to hold onto the resentment. You glanced at Chan through the rearview mirror, who gave you a small, reassuring smile from the driver’s seat.

After a long moment of silence, you decided to poke fun again, if only to see how Minho would react. "Seems like Minho cares about the cat more than me, huh, Chan?" You tried to keep your voice light, but a hint of sadness and hurt slipped through.

Chan’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, but before he could even respond, Minho cut in, his voice surprisingly soft. "That’s not true."

You turned toward him, eyebrows raised in surprise. He was still looking down at the cat, but his grip tightened just slightly, his thumb stroking its fur with the same gentle, careful touch. He bit his lip and swallowed.

Minho’s gaze lifted slowly to meet yours, his dark eyes holding an unusual tenderness. "You know…" he began, his voice quiet but steady. "This cat…it’s our first kid."

You blinked, caught off guard. "Our first kid?"

He gave a tiny nod, his lips curving into the faintest smile. "Yeah. It’s ours. Our baby." He paused as if he wanted to say more. "Y/N I'm...I might not be great with words, but I care." He glanced down at the cat again, his voice dipping lower. "A lot. More than you could ever know."

It was so Minho- awkward, roundabout, but sincere. It wasn’t a straightforward apology, but it was his way of telling you he regretted what he said earlier. His gaze softened even further as he looked at you, his grip still tenderly holding your "child".

Your heart swelled, the hurt from earlier dissipating as warmth replaced it. You smiled at him, leaning closer. "So, this cat is our first kid, huh?"

He hummed in agreement, his shoulder brushing against yours. "Yeah…our first kid," he said, the possessiveness in his voice almost endearing now. "She's so pretty just like you, hm?"

For the first time since the argument, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. The way Minho looked at the cat like it was something precious and irreplaceable made your heart soften.

And the way he looked at you with ten times the amount of affection on a daily basis.

Maybe he wasn’t the best with words, but moments like this reminded you that his actions often spoke louder. And to take somethings woith a grain of salt.

As the car continued down the road, you leaned your head back, sneaking another glance at Minho. He was still holding the cat with the same delicate care, his fingers lightly stroking her fur as she rested in his arm, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made your chest ache. He hadn’t let go of her for a second, as if she was the most precious thing ever.

Watching him now, the earlier harshness of his words seemed distant, like a bad dream that was already fading in the daylight. The Minho beside you- the one who was petting the cat like it was his lifeline, who quietly called it "our baby" -wasn’t the same person who had called you useless just hours ago.

You smiled softly to yourself, feeling a weight lift from your chest. This was how you knew that the hurtful words he had sent your way were nothing more than frustration, born out of a heated moment. They held no truth deeper than the fleeting anger that had fueled them. His actions now- the way he cradled the creature, the gentle way he spoke to you, the intimate words he used; even the panic in his voice at the mere thought of you being hurt -revealed the real Minho, the one who cared deeply, even if he wasn’t always great at showing it.

And somehow, in this quiet moment, that was all the apology you needed.

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Edit: People keep telling me Minho should have groveled😭 🙏 i know guys but i wanted to bring a little diversity cause unfortunately there are people in the world who wouldn't apologize for something like this or they will go about it in a roundabout way 😭🙏 And I figured either Minho or Seungmin would best fit those roles so that's why I wrote him that way - but next time I'll make him grovel 😭 🙏

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[aurorawritestoescape]

WALLET PHOTO || DBF!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel and you are in a secret relationship but one day Joel notices that you’re not very careful at keeping the secret.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, age gap (how big is up to you), soft!Joel, taking nudes, praise kink, f!oral, unprotected piv (wrap it up), squirting, creampie. Reader wears a skirt. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no physical description.

Word count: 4,3k

A/n: written for @justagalwhowrites ‘s Joel Miller Birthday celebration! I chose dbf Joel and secret relationship. Thank you for a wonderful challenge, Kit 💕and Happy Birthday to tloml, Joel Miller!❤️ Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 I’ve never written dbf and I hope y’all like it! Love you! Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST || more soft Joel - Good Girl || Sweet Cherry

After an afternoon movie date with Joel you’re sitting on your bed in your room with a shoe box on your lap. Joel’s leaning against the door frame, watching you with a soft smile. Your noisy roommate is not in so you two are enjoying each other’s company in the quiet apartment.

Joel knows about your big collection of movie tickets and doesn’t ask any questions when you take today's trophy out of your wallet with a content smile and place it in the box. You’re telling him how much you hate the introduction of electronic tickets when Joel interrupts you.

"Hey! Show me that.”

With his expression serious all of a sudden he steps up towards you, his arm stretched and waiting.

“What?"

"Your wallet. Give me.”

“Ehm... no.”

You're hurriedly trying to shove it back into your tiny handbag but Joel’s too fast. He bends down, yanks the wallet out of your fingers and opens it. You sigh deeply when he looks down at you with a heavy scowl that speaks volumes.

You don’t say anything and after a few moments of heavy silence he breaks it.

“Baby”.

You probably should feel concerned but the thunder in his voice sends shivers of excitement down your spine, your heartbeat increases and you gush into your panties.

"What?"

"Why do you have my photo in your wallet?"

You pout your lips and reply with defiance,

"To look at you."

He puts his hands on his hips, his usual stance when you behave like a brat, your wallet still clenched between his thick fingers, and his usually warm but now fiery eyes under the furrowed brows are boring into you.

“What if your dad sees it?”

"He won't."

"How can you be so sure? I’ve noticed it. He might as well."

"Well..,” you start and pause, looking everywhere but his piercing eyes.

"Well what?"

“I don't know, Joel! Stop grilling me!” you exclaim, finally breaking under pressure. Then you look up at the man with your best puppy eyes and explain, “I love this photo. I love looking at it when I miss you.”

Joel sighs and his arms fall in defeat. His softness washes away the displeasure off his handsome face as soon as he notices that you’re upset.

His voice is warm and comforting again when he argues,

"But you have a bunch of my photos on your phone.”

"Yeah, but… This is different. I love having it here. I open my wallet and BAM! You’re staring at me. So handsome and mine.” Your eyes downcast, you add, “My heart feels warm and shit when I see it.”

"Warm and shit. Jesus. You'll be the death of me, missy."

With a deep sigh he hands you the wallet back and when you are about to grab it, he clasps your wrist and gently pulls you off the bed and into his embrace. You press your nose to his warm chest, hidden behind the softest flannel, and take a deep breath of his scent. His big heart is beating steadily under your palms, his arms, muscular and strong, shield you from the outside world that is unfortunately not receptive to your relationship.

You feel a kiss planted on the top of your head and look up at Joel. Your eyes lock as you talk without speaking, confess the things that both of you have no guts to verbalize yet. Instead you connect by sharing the warmth of your bodies, letting your heartbeats harmonize with each other.

As always when you’re with Joel, the warmth quickly morphs into scorching fire and your body starts demanding him just as much as your heart. Your core ignites, sending flames of wet desire to your aching pussy and you lick your lower lip, inviting your secret lover to get a taste.

“My beautiful girl”, Joel whispers, as his pupils dilate, eyes slide over the curve of your mouth and he leans down. The kiss, gentle, slow and wet, soon overwhelms you, makes your whole body tremble with need and you cuddle into his arms as close as you can.

Joel seems impatient to have you too and when he slightly bucks his hips, you feel him stiff against your lower belly. You breathe out his name and take a step back, pulling him by the hand towards your bed. He sits down on the foot of it and you swiftly straddle his thighs.

“Damn, baby,” Joel growls as you plant a soft kiss on his cheek and your hips start rolling gently against his hard bulge. He throws your open wallet on the bed and you turn to look down at the photo.

Joel follows the direction of your eyes and says with a soft smile, “I remember that day.”

“Yeah, it was my birthday. You looked so hot in that blue shirt.”

“Really?” Joel beams at you like a cat sitting in the sun and his dark eyes are darting between yours while his hands are gripping your hips tighter.

“Yeah. We weren't together yet but I was already… I already liked you.”

“Oh,” Joel mumbles and then tilts his head, brows furrowed. “Didn’t ya have a boyfriend back then? I remember some guy being there with you.”

“Yeah, I did,” you smirk and then nuzzle his scruffy cheek, purring against it, “but the entire party I was wet because of my dad’s buddy.”

Joel growls and squeezes the softness of your hips as you sit straight and admit, locking eyes with him,

“ ‘s why I took that photo. Wanted to have something of you.”

Joel’s looking up at you as if you’re an angel fallen

from heaven. Not used to expressing his feelings, he pulls you closer, kisses your cheek and hugs you tightly.

“I… never thought I’d feel all this again. Never thought you’d be mine. ‘m lucky to have you.”

You hold your breath and freeze in his arms, scared to ruin this beautiful moment.

Joel pulls away from you and searches for your eyes.

"I want your photo too, sweetheart. Wanna feel warm and shit when I open my wallet," he quotes you with a wink and adds, "Your dad be damned."

You giggle, the sound ringing with excitement, and swiftly get off him.

“Let’s take it now!”

You hurry to your desk, open the first drawer and look for your Polaroid camera. Then you return to Joel, handing it to him.

“Where should I sit?”

You look about your bedroom, chewing on your lip, searching for the best place to pose at.

“Not the bed, baby. I should have at least the benefit of the doubt if someone sees it.”

You laugh and then take a seat in your chair at the desk, thighs pressed together, covered partially by your short skirt, hands clasped in your lap.

Joel gets up, and when you give him your most innocent smile, he pushes the button.

The picture slides out immediately and Joel pulls it out and starts shaking it, stepping up to you, waiting for it to develop.

“If I look bad, we’ll take another one, k?” you ask, your big eyes directed at Joel.

“You couldn’t look bad even if you tried, baby.”

Warmth fills your chest as he cups your cheek and you nuzzle his warm palm. Then you impatiently take the photo from his hand and look at it.

“It’ll do,” you comment with a happy grin.

You show it to Joel and he bends over and squints looking at it.

“Do you need your glasses?” You ask with a naughty smile and Joel throws you the look.

“I don’t,” he straightens up and takes the photo from you to inspect it closely.

“Huh. You look like such a good girl.”

You fake gasp, plant your hands on your knees and bat your lashes at him with exaggeration.

“Ain’t I a good girl, Joel?”

The man puts the photo on your desk and steps up so close that his jeans brush your naked knees. You squirm when he pinches your chin and tilts your head up to face him.

“We both know how bad this good girl can get.”

The way he says it, voice low and gruff, eyes blown out and full of fire, sends shivers down your spine and you feel a new surge of wetness spill into your already soaked panties.

“Yeah,” you agree and bite your lip when an idea lights up in your mind. “We can take one more photo. Of your bad girl.”

Joel’s chest expands, and he shifts his jaw while his hungry gaze is sliding down your body.

“You’ll let me?”

You nod, melting under his scorching look.

His expression is serious, almost dark, when he takes the camera off the desk. You try to contain your excitement, calm down the fire burning deep in your core, before you take a deep breath. Joel steps back and sits down on the bed, thighs spread, holding the camera in his big hands but not lifting it to his eyes.

“Show me what you wanna do, baby.”

“Ohh.” You raise your eyebrows playfully at the man. “You can be unhappy with my pose?”

“What if my bad girl gets too shy to come out?” He smiles and you bite your lower lip, giddy with the challenge presented to you.

After a few moments of contemplation you start by taking your top off. You give Joel a little show, sliding the clothing off your body slowly, gliding your hands over your exposed skin. Soon you’re left sitting in your lacy bra and a skirt and Joel seems to love it. He throws his thighs wider and adjusts his prominent bulge.

Wishing to show him your assets in the best way, you lean against the chair and arch your back, pushing your tits out. Your nipples are hard under the thin lace and Joel definitely sees them.

“You’re beautiful, baby,” Joel praises you in a soft tone but then tilts his head to the side, a smirk twisting his lips. “Wish you showed me more.”

You narrow your eyes at the man.

“I hope you’re ready for what’s coming,” you say and seductively pull down your skirt. Joel’s eyes immediately dart to your lacy thong. Now you’re sitting only in your underwear in front of Joel, who’s still fully clothed. When you glide your palms over your body to entice the man, your arousal spikes and you desperately wish for it to be Joel’s big hands.

“Wanna take a pic now?” You know that Joel’s on the verge of getting up and ripping the last of the clothes off you but he surprises you with his reply, as he places the camera on the bed next to him.

“Not yet, sweetheart. You can do better.”

Your jaw drops at his audacity and you wriggle in the seat, trying to alleviate the ache between your legs, probably leaving a wet stain on the chair.

‘He wants to play? Let’s play,’ you think and purr,

“Careful what you wish for, Mr Miller.”

Joel’s nostrils flare and a low growl rises up from his chest when he hears what you called him.

Your mischievous smile indicates that you know exactly what you’re doing and you don’t plan on stopping. Joel is always gentle with you but sometimes it’s fun to wake the other side of him, a passionate man driven by desire, ready to grab, manhandle and fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.

So with a half sigh-half moan you hook your thumbs under the straps of your bra and slide them off your shoulders while Joel’s dark eyes are following your every move. His gaze glosses over when you pull your bra cups down and expose your breasts to his hungry eyes.

“Ohh, that’s my girl,” he croaks, moving closer to the edge of the bed, as if he’s ready to pounce on you any second.

“Still a good girl, Joel?” you purr, kneading the soft plush of your tits, and spreading your thighs a little wider.

Joel seems to be lost for words as you take the bra off and languidly move your hips back and forth, riding the chair, desperately wishing it to be Joel’s hips. Your sexy taunting backfires as the friction on your aching pussy spikes your need and you plead,

“Can you already take the pic?”

Not tearing his eyes off your body, Joel grabs the camera off the bed but still doesn’t direct it at you.

Your heart beats faster when you realize what he’s waiting for.

You’ve started dating Joel recently so every time you show him THAT part of you, your pussy, your whole body still trembles with nerves and excitement. Joel never pushes you, never asks for more that you wish to give him but you can’t help but feel a little anxious.

Before you step over the edge, you take a deep breath and spread your thighs wider. You trace your seam under the panties with your middle finger and your skin erupts with chills at the light caress. You tilt your hips up to show him more and Joel leans slightly forward and wets his lips when his eyes land on the wet spot on the fabric.

“Shall I take my panties off, Mr Miller?” Your voice is shaky with lust, as you press your finger to your hardened clit over the soaked panties. A needy moan flies out of your parted lips and Joel echoes it with a groan.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Please, show me.”

His self control is crumbling, judging by the strain in his voice. You don’t make him wait for long. You lift your hips and in a second your panties fall on the floor.

“Ohh, baby.”

Joel’s soft moan at the sight of your naked pussy gives you the needed courage, drowns your shyness in a deep pit of desire, and you slowly lift and plant your feet on the edge of the chair, one and then the other.

Your pussy opens up, weeping hole clenching, calling for your lover, and your chest and belly heave when you caress your mound and then slide your middle finger between your wet folds.

“Joel,” you whimper and his will breaks.

He gets up, brings the camera to his eyes but then lowers it to ask,

“Can I take a few photos of you?”

You smile and whisper a sultry ‘ yeah’ and Joel pushes the button, taking a photo of you sitting on the chair, your nipples perked up, legs bent and spread, hand resting between your thighs as you look up at him with your gaze lustful and needy.

He’s inching towards you and every few seconds takes another photo. Click-click-click.

“Damn, I — you’re— fuck, so hot.”

You giggle and, wanting to give him more, run your hands over your naked body so he could capture your fingers pushing your breasts together, twitching your nipples, gliding through your puffy folds. The pictures are falling on the floor, one by one, blank yet, creating a path as he’s slowly walking towards you.

Your pussy is crying, clear desire trickling from your hole and onto the chair, and you whimper when he kneels in front of you and glances up, waiting for your approval. Your cheeks burn but you nod with a smile, letting him capture the most sacred part of you.

Joel’s breathing heavily as he brings the camera to his eyes and directs it at your glistening cunt.

When the photo appears, he doesn’t look at it. Instead he’s focused on your expression, pained and needy, and your desperate ‘Joel’ falling off your lips drives him crazy. He puts the camera on the floor and clasps his big hands around your ankles.

“Are you achin’, sweetie? Do you want me to kiss your sweet pussy?”

“Yes, Joel, please, ye—”, he doesn’t let you finish, his warm lips immediately press to your cold wet folds.

A string of your loud moans fill the room after he grabs your hips, throws your thighs on his shoulders and begins eating you out. He starts with open mouth kisses to your inner thighs, slowly moves to your sopping center and licks a path from your hole to your pulsating clit. He gently sucks it into his mouth and you clench your fist in his curly graying hair, your pussy gushing onto his chin. Joel feels your wetness on his skin and lowers his mouth to drink everything you're offering him, like it’s nectar of the gods itself.

“Sweet—sweet little pussy—mine—ya mine, baby,” he mumbles and his words vibrate against your cunt, making you writhe and whimper, as he’s bringing you higher to the peak.

“Oh my god, Joel,” you whine as his tongue begins a lascivious dance over your clit, his wet hot muscle swirling around it, rubbing it tirelessly and it’s not long until you cry out into your palm and shake, twitch, jerk against the chair, against Joel’s unyielding lips, still caressing you through the hard climax.

You sigh happily when your body relaxes, and completely drunk on endorphins, with half-lidded eyes, see Joel’s face looking up at you from between your thighs. His gaze is lustful, chin glistening with your slick, and you sit up to kiss the man who has just rocked your world.

Joel reaches up to you and you meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss lets you taste the tang of your juices on his tongue, and you hum at the delicious mixture of him and you.

“Need you, baby— need you now,” Joel murmurs against your lips. Eager as well you get up and lead him to the bed.

With impatient hands he starts unbuttoning his shirt, but you stop him.

“Let me, Joel, please,” you ask, your eyes pleading, and he grants your wish. You take his flannel off and then his undershirt. You know that he’s desperate to be inside you yet you can’t help but to glide your palms over the expense of his hairy chest and shoulders, marveling at the strength of his body, so big and broad and all yours. You unbuckle his belt and pull his jeans down together with his boxers.

Joel’s chest is heaving as you both look down at his hard cock, standing proudly at attention.

You bite your lip and your eyes gloss over. It’s gorgeous. You wish you could kiss it all over, take it in your mouth, let him spill his hot cum on your waiting tongue. No, he needs your warm wet pussy.

You wrap your hand around his stiffness and Joel moans, hurriedly trying to hide the sound with a fake cough.

“No, please,” you whisper, placing your palm on his chest. “I love hearing how good you feel.”

Joel slithers his arm around you and cups your butt, pulling you closer to him, and his wet tip pokes your lower belly.

“YOU make me feel good. I can never get enough of you,” he whispers in your ear and you melt under the heat of his naked body against yours, his lips leaving kisses along your neck.

“Wanna ride you,” your murmur tells him.

Joel lies down on your bed and you straddle his thighs and take his cock in your hand before lifting your hips and hovering over it. He’s still training your pussy to take him and his big cock is still a challenge for you. You brace your hand on his chest, guide his tip to your entrance, take a deep breath before starting to sink on his member, inch by inch.

Joel shuts his eyes and tilts his head back, dipping it into the mattress.

“Oh—ohhhh—fuckin’—,” a string of pleasured sounds is leaving his open mouth and you follow him, reveling in the sensation of him pushing your walls apart, filling you nicely like no one has ever had.

Finally you’re fully sitting on his cock and he opens his eyes to look down at the place you’re joined, his length completely sheathed inside your cunt.

“Will never get used to it—warm and wet— and so fuckin’ tight. Sorry, baby,” he apologizes for cursing and you reassure him with a hazy smile,

“ ‘s ok. You’re so big inside me, Joel. It’s like I can feel you here.” You put your hand on your chest and he chuckles,

“I ain’t that big, sweetheart. But thank you for the compliment.”

You giggle but the smiles are quickly wiped off your faces when you finally move on his cock. You start riding him, rolling your hips back and forth, smearing your slick over his crotch, and then bounce up and down, alternating your movements.

Joel's hands are gripping your thighs but you need him so much that you take them and hold them up, feeling your connection brighter. Joel’s looking up at you with adoration and piety, taking in your ecstatic expression, your bouncing breasts, your skin, dewy with sweat, your glistening folds, spread around his girthy cock.

“Fuckin’ angel,” he mumbles and shuts his eyes.

“Joel, look at me. Please,” you murmur.

“Can’t, baby— can’t— I’ll come too soon—you’re too sexy.”

“I don’t care. Come. I want your eyes on me.”

He doesn’t deny you and soon he’s drinking the sight of you fucking him with full gulps.

You don’t give him any respite when you place his hands on your breasts and he begins kneading them, twitching your perky nipples. Yours meanwhile travel back, as you turn slightly and find his balls under your moving pussy. You caress them in your palm, one and then the other, then gently tug on the sack.

“Jesus, baby, want me to burst? Oh, yeah—“

You both are moaning, chasing your climaxes with increasing intensity. You tilt your hips a little to press your pulsating clit against the fluff of his pubic hair and grind, grind, grind your pussy over his lower belly. Joel’s cock moving deep inside you, your clit twitching in his coarse hair, all the sensations combined light up your body and when Joel lifts his torso on his elbow and unhinges his jaw to take as much of your breast into his hot mouth as he can, you explode with a loud cry.

He’s sucking and licking your tit as you bury your nose in his soft hair and your pussy starts clamping around his cock. A surge of wetness floods your core and you moan his name desperately, soaking his stiffness.

“I’m here, baby. I gotchu.”

Joel lies back down, plants his feet on the bed and starts thrusting his hips up, plunging his cock deeper into your squirting pussy.

“Take it—take it—,” he grunts through gritted teeth, fingers digging into your soft thighs as he’s fucking you, your walls squeezing him hard, until he roars and begins spurting his cum inside you, adding to the ocean of ecstasy already filling your core. The squelching of his and your cum mixes with your moans, the music of your unity.

As soon as he stops twitching inside you, you fall on his chest and you both relax, catching your breaths, his cock slowly softening inside you.

The sweat on your skin soon cools down and you shiver.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel coos and, still staying under you, covers your back with a bedspread.

You get warm and almost fall asleep, lulled by his steady breathing, but Joel squeezes you and whispers against your temple,

“Got something for ya.”

He moves you off him, and you shift on the bed, after feeling a wet spot under you. It’s not the first time you squirted with Joel but it still fascinates you what he can do to your body.

Meanwhile Joel gets off the bed, picks up his jeans off the floor and shoves his hand into a pocket.

He retrieves something and sits back down next to you.

You sit up, not bothering to cover your naked breasts, and crane your neck to see what he’s got in his hands. It turns out to be a long velvet box.

“Wanted to give it to you next week. For one month anniversary. But you said that you’d wanted to have something of me. So —ehm—here.”

You see a soft blush bloom on his cheeks as he speaks and butterflies dance in your belly at how cute and sweet he is. He opens the box and with two thick fingers pulls out a gold necklace. He holds the ends of it and you see a pendant hanging on it- a little heart.

You gasp at the surprise and then squeal, throwing your arms around his neck. Joel chuckles and asks you to turn around so he could put it on.

You look down at the beautiful gift, lift the heart and press it to your lips.

“Thank you, Joel,” you whisper and then hurry off the bed.

You grab your Polaroid camera where Joel has left it and direct it at yourself. You return to Joel with another photo in your hand - a close up of your neck and Joel’s present, resting on the top of your chest.

“Here. Your wallet photo,” you smile, handing it to your lover. “Only you know it’s me. We can keep our secret.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he croaks with his eyes sparkling and pulls you in for a kiss.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

MASTERLIST || more soft Joel - Good Girl || Sweet Cherry

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