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papaya-twinks · 2 days ago

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get over it! - l.n - p.2

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mental breakdown, breaking glass.

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - sorry this took so long, I was doing all Lando’s birthday ones x

parts 🧡

Time Skip - Formula One Baku Grand Prix Pre-Race

Baku had always been a city of contrasts—historical yet modern, chaotic yet beautiful. And today, it felt like the perfect reflection of Lando's mood as he walked down the paddock, his eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses, jaw clenched tight.

Since your little ‘incident’ with Lando at Qualifying, you’d made sure to steer well out of his way. You would rather not be blamed for his driving by Zak or Andrea anyhow. It did slightly piss off the mechanics on Lando’s side of the garage, however.

Your energy was something that helped a lot of them to keep going, and now you were steering clear of Lando’s while side of the garage. You hadn’t even noticed him sliding into Oscar’s garage, as you handed around drinks.

“Y/N,” he said, tapping you on the shoulder, your shoulders immediately raising defensively, your head turning away from, signalling your dislike in speaking to him. “Y/N," he pressed, this time with more urgency. "Can we talk?"

You shook your head, still not looking at him. "I don’t think there’s anything left to say,” you said simply, handing some of Oscar’s mechanics some drinks. "You’re avoiding me," he said, his voice tinged with frustration. "You can’t just walk away, not after what happened,” he said firmly.

“Yes I can, besides, why do you even care? It’s not like you to do so,” you said, placing your tray down, taking some new cups from the stack. “Some of my mechanics are pissed about you not being in the garage and stuff,” he mumbled, slightly annoyed.

“Oh, and they made you drag your ass here to ask?” you asked, a scoff on your lips as Lando rolled his eyes. “Sorry for asking you to do your own damn job,” he snapped, his voice filling with the frustration and bite from earlier.

“Let me do my fucking job, and stop talking to me, then,” you said, your voice with equally as much spite as you glared at him, his jaw set firm, eyes narrowed. You rolled your eyes, walking past him, your chin held high - so what if he was a driver? He didn’t own you!

You’d had many fights with Lando, countless, some of them about such minor things, you almost laughed when you looked back at them. Of course, there was a time, even after the Sochi incident, where maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he could have forgiven you.

But then again, it was Lando Norris. He’d do anything just to fuck shit up.

Flashback - 2021 Mexican Grand Prix

It had started innocently enough - a late-night discussion about his diet. He had asked you to double-check his hydration formula before heading to the gym. You’d pointed out that it didn’t seem balanced, that he'd been skipping meals. He’d brushed it off like it was nothing. But that was just the start.

“Why do you always act like you know better?” he had snapped, voice low but cutting. “I’m the one racing out there. You’re just a helper,”. His words stung. You didn’t respond immediately, too shocked by the sudden shift in his tone. But when you did, your voice was tight with restraint.

“Just a helper?” you’d repeated, incredulous. “I’ve been working with you for years, Lando. Don’t act like I don’t know how to do my job,” you had said, your voice edged with a hint of shock and hurt. “You don’t work with me, Y/N, you’re not on my level, you won’t ever be on my level. You work for the team, at least get it right,”.

“You can’t just skip meals and expect your hydration to be perfect,” you had replied, a little more firmly. “Your body needs food to process all the fluids properly. If you’re running on empty, no amount of water is going to make a difference.”

“I’m fine,” Lando shot back immediately, his tone defensive. “I told you, I’m good. I just didn’t feel like eating. It’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice becoming more and more frustrated. Why couldn’t he understand what you were saying? And why did all your arguments have to be centred around water?

For a moment, it seemed like Lando was going to say something else, but instead, he crossed his arms, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. “I don’t need a babysitter, Y/N. I’m not a child. I know how to do my job,” he had said, his eyes narrowed once more.

The words hit harder than they should have. You’d been working with him for quite a while, supporting him in every way you could, and this was the first time you felt like he didn’t appreciate it. “I never said you were,” you had said, your voice cold now, your patience worn thin.

“But when you start acting like a diva and skipping meals while I’m the one having to pick up the pieces, then yeah, maybe I do need to step in,” you said, your jaw set firmly and your eyes narrowed. Lando opened his mouth to retort, but you turned away before he could, your back to him as you grabbed your tablet from the table.

Your hands had been shaking with frustration, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “I don’t have time for this right now,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “I’ve got a hundred other things to do,” you moved to his door, only stopped by his voice.

He didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel his eyes on you. After a long, charged silence, he finally spoke. “You think I’m just acting like a diva, huh?” he asked, his voice colder than you would have thought, sharp and almost like a snarl.

“Im not the one who fucking acts like I run the whole team off my own back - all you do is give water to people, Y/N, you’re useless!” he snapped, his voice raising as you flinched. “Useless? I’m not-,” you started, your own voice becoming louder.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Y/N! You think, just coz a few people like you, that you’re the one managing this whole team? You don’t do shit, Y/N, you’re not important! People would be sad you left your day or two and forget about it, okay? You’d be replaced in an instant, you have no skill!”.

All of this. Over a water plan. “I…fuck you, Lando,” you said, your eyes brimming with tears, voice cracking as you stepped out the door, not even sparing him a glance as you rushed away from him,”

Present Time - Formula One Baku Grand Prix

Sure, you were pissed at Lando, but it really wasn’t fair to take it out on the whole team, do, begrudgingly, you dragged yourself to Lando’s side of the garage to hand out refreshments, much to the relief of the mechanics and engineers.

Just imagining if Sochi had never happened in 2021, or you’d never said the comment that you’d said, it would’ve been some different, and you would’ve been cheering and going crazy with the team, watching Lando climb higher and higher from his low position.

You could practically feel the tension radiating off of Lando’s car, the stress of a potential championship fight that could be washed away due to one bad qualifying session, or the struggles of getting through to at least a points playing position, everyone was on edge.

Lando had a lot of positions to make up if he wanted to salvage his weekend, or at least begin to try and gain some points. And boy, did he make up positions. One after another, he passed car after car, refusing to let the mistake of qualifying 16th define his race. He was determined to prove himself.

As the race wore on, Lando's mood lifted. Every overtake, every clean pass, brought him closer to his goal. He had no idea what position he was in now—he was just racing, just pushing harder than he ever had. When the final laps came, he found himself fighting for 4th. And when he crossed the line, there it was: 4th place.

But all you could do was bury it deep inside of you and push Lando out of your mind - sometimes there were times when you wished you could have screamed and cheered with the team, like in Miami. But you had Oscar’s current winning margin to distract you from the hurt in the pit of your belly.

Time Skip - Post Race - Baku

The mechanics jostled round the garage, all talking, but slowly leaving, exiting the garage as the sky darkened, a pale shade of greyish-blue, a colour you found quite beautiful actually. Like a reflection of the ocean, in some ways.

“Why are you still here?” a voice snapped you from your train of thought, ruining what was otherwise quite a peaceful movement, your gaze forced sway from the clouds. “None of your business,” you scoffed, picking up your drinks tray from the side as Lando stared.

“I mean, kinda is,” he replied, his nose scrunched distastefully, like you were something or someone lower than him, which was how he perceived you anyways. “Everyone else has gone home,” he pointed out.

“Cheers Captain Obvious,” you said sarcastically, the glasses tinkling on your tray, some with lines of red wine at the bottom, beams of white from the lights above reflecting off the glass. “Whatever,” Lando said, his voice nearly a mumble as he dug he is hands into his pockets.

“Look, I’d appreciate if you stayed the fuck out of my way,” Lando said sarcastically, “I can’t stand your stupid presence,” he snapped, “there’s nothing to fucking be so happy about, I can’t have you annoyingly positive energy around all the time,”.

“Excuse me?” you said, not quite sure what to say after that little outburst of his came from. “You heard me, you’re stupidly positive and all you do is frolic around with that stupid little tray of yours,” Lando snapped, pushing the tray out of your hand, the plate clattering onto the floor, the glasses shattering at your feet.

“Lando, what the fuck is your issue?!” you half-screamed, scrambling away from the shards of glass scattered on the floor, cutting at the soles of your sneakers. “Just….fuck off, okay?!” he said, his curls a messy heap on his head, his eyes wild.

He looked on the verge of a full breakdown as you stared, in shock at the whole thing. He’d been fine a few seconds ago, what the hell had happened? “Lando, I didn’t-,” you started, raising your hands almost in surrender.

“I don’t care, I don’t care, Y/N!” he covered his ears, “Just fuck off!”. You said nothing, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stumbled back, away from the glassy heap on the floor, and rushing away from the garage. You’d never seen Lando break down before.

Was he…Was he okay?

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando x reader #f1 #lando norris smut

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fruithoughts · 2 days ago

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‎‎‎ㅤㅤHow to catch a hufflepuff?

‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤjeonghan x fem!reader

01.ㅤۗㅤ𝙼ember . ⎯⎯⎯ jeonghan.

02.ㅤۗㅤ𝙲𝚆 . ⎯⎯⎯ one sided beef, he tries to a dick but he's too in love lol what a loser, MANY PET NAMES(pretty girl, doll, puppy...), reader is a muggle, smut at very end, smut with plot, rough sex.

September, 1

— Are you still not over yourself? — A new year at Hogwarts begins, and just like that, Yoon Jeonghan it’s back to his favorite hobby of tormenting his favorite girl.

— Hogwarts should get over itself! It’s insane that we still have to write with quills — the Hufflepuff answers, obviously frustrated and with a good reason to be so, it’s 2024 and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry it’s still stuck on writing with quills? In individual papers? This fact alone it’s crazier than most spells they’ve ever teached.

— You say it as if the muggle option is much better — he lies straight through his teeth, knowing damn well that pens are, with no doubt, much easier to use than quills. Jeonghan is Jeonghan, don’t take him too seriously or you might actually punch him in the face. Much like he expected, his false observation is pointed out by the girl sitting right alongside him in this train stall almost immediately after it leaves his mouth, the Slytherin has always had too much fun bothering the school’s sweetest girl who just so happened to be cursed with world’s biggest puppy eyes.

It wasn’t friendly like this back then, though. No, not even close.

These two despised each other with a burning passion, well, Jeonghan did; for the far majority of this nemesis thing, the hate was very much one-sided. Coming from an insanely racist family definitely rubbed off on him and when his academic life expectations were ruined by the fact that the entire school seemed completely in love and constantly in awe of that stupid muggle girl, he decided right there to make her life a living hell.

Which he succeeded in doing, kind of. Her life was surely miserable when around him but she didn’t seem to care about their relationship as soon as she was with her friends, housemates, just anyone at all, Jeonghan felt invisible at times, and it infuriated him to no end. Last year was the worst era for sure. The bitterness had been going on for so long, they were both exhausted and having to work together on an astronomy assignment was the last straw, so out of nothing but pure rage; they settled on an alliance for long enough to finish that thing. But it didn’t end there, of course it didn’t, they continued talking even after the assignment, they weren't friends then, absolutely not, but they started interacting like normal students for once, asking for notes, doing small talk every little in a while.

Their push and pull habits never truly died, but it wasn’t out of hate now, they were clearly having fun with this whole enemies till death tell us apart game. So much fun in fact, Jeonghan spent his entire break missing their banter like he was going crazy. It didn’t even cross his mind that he would think about that girl after the year ended, but oh, boy, did he do it.

Maybe that was the reason they were going together in the same train stall for the first time in all of these years they’ve known each other, maybe Jeonghan lied and his friend’s stall isn’t full like he said it was, maybe he just missed his shiny eyed sweet girl, maybe.

September, 12

— Do you have any interests other than being the center of attention? — she asks, it’s a fair question. The walk in between classes always brings out the worst out of everyone, huh? — I like pissing you off sometimes — Jeonghan answered.

Watching that cute little face transform into an annoyed and tired one never fails to make the Slytherin feel a rush of pride, he just adores it, he just adores her — Can you answer seriously at least once? Instead of being a lil bitch? Perhaps? It’s that too difficult for you? — she said imitating the tone he usually used to brother her, school’s sweetest girl being a bully, who would’ve thought.

— Woah, woah, woah, I've been nothing but condescending and mean to you and this is how you treat me? — Jeonghan grabs his chest dramatically, his expression telling any bypassers that this man has never, in his entire life , felt as offended as he’s feeling right now — Come on now, puppy, it’s this a way you should treat a dear friend?

There it is, the classic Jeonghan urge to frustrate his pretty girl for no reason at all.

— Keep talking and I'll poison your food — the Slytherin chuckled at the threat — You wouldn’t be able to even if you tried, you’re not allowed in herbology class without the presence of a teacher — he pointed out without missing a beat — How do you still remember that? — she asks incredulously. I was made for you, of course I remember, the bastard thought to himself.

Like always, Jeonghan regretted coming to class the very second the professor opened his mouth, choosing to busy himself with going through his girl’s notes instead. They were mostly doodles or borderline intelligible for him, her handwriting was neat but her logic? Questionable, to say the least. But he loved reading whatever she wrote anyways, getting a little too happy whenever he found anything evolving his name or a silly doodle of his face. Once every twenty or so minutes he’d get distracted by her side profile instead, this was the only class where they sat together, so he shamelessly stared at her every time. For just a second, she looked back and smiled, as warm as the sun. He felt strange, he felt like a child again, liking her felt rather lovely, but did she like him too?

October, 18

It’s a tradition at this point, students of all houses gathering together in secret to play quidditch in their pajamas every friday night. Organization is barely existent, rules? Optional. This whole thing is a mess, it really is one of the worlds most confusing mysteries on how the teachers haven't found out about this yet(They have, but they pretend they haven’t because it’s the only time all students get fairly along with each other)

Mingyu begging Seungkwan to be the judge just off the chance that possibly, on a day where Kwan felt extremely nice, he could cut him some slack(it has never happened). Watching them from a far was arguably nicer, Jeonghan thought; sitting isolated from all of the other students with his trusty Hufflepuff by his side, both sat there in comfortable silence, this one was new for them.

— What bad music have you been listening to these days, ugly thing? — he inquires, as nice and cordial as always — Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy? — she answered staring daggers into his face, oh, if only Yoon Jeonghan was as unbothered and cool as he pretends to be, maybe then he could stop the way his heart pathetically races at the sound of her voice.

— I always wanna know what’s going on up that little head, it’s usually just air, but sometimes we get lucky, don’t we? — the Hufflepuff rolls her eyes at his statement while the asshole who said it only grins — I could put on some songs I've been listening to, if your highness so desires — she suggests, and Jeonghan isn’t one to say no to his pretty thing.

It started off with a soft guitar melody, much like most of the songs she listened to.

Depollute me, pretty baby

Suck the rot right out of my bloodstream

The girl always had a type for softer sounding things, for gentle things, it made Jeonghan feel unsure of himself at times. How could the sweetest girl in the school like the company of such a bitter guy?

Oh, dilute me, gentle angel

Water down what I call being grateful

Was it normal? Was this how things should be? What even were they at this point? Acquaintances? Partners in crime? Friends?

Oh, you kissed me just to kiss me

Not to take me home

The school year had barely started and Jeonghan could swear he was balding from stress since week 2, why is he acting like this? Why is he sitting far from his friends and housemates just to spend “alone time” with the girl he swore he hated less than a year ago?

It was simple, it was sweetness

It was good to know

There were many things in this world that the Slytherin would never agree to admit. He refused to believe in just how fast his mind changed from last year. Everything happened too fast and I couldn’t see it coming, that’s why I didn’t stop it; is what the man in question kept telling himself, clearly because is the truth and nothing but the truth, clearly NOT because he could never bring himself to terms with the fact that he has always looked at the “stupid muggle girl” in the very same way he’s looking right now.

You look perfect, you look different

I don't wonder about your indifference

— Spending time with you is giving me brain damage — he speaks up, for no reason other than to listen to the sound of her laughter, which works — Don’t blame me for your psychosis — the hufflepuff answers while giggling.

If I said you could never touch me

You'd come over and say I looked lovely

She yawned and stretched her arms out, arching her back, as graceful as a swan. It’s that feeling again.

Oh, you kissed me just to kiss me

Not to make me cry

He lies down on the concrete, both hands behind his head.

It was simple, you are sweetness

Let's just sit a while

She lies with him.

Depollute me, gentle angel

And I'll feel the sickness less and less

The night was beautiful, birds flying through the dark sky, he could hear his friends playing quidditch in the distance, his pretty little thing resting her head on his shoulder as they lay on the cold floor and watch the stars. It felt gentle, it felt nice, it felt perfect. He knows they won’t talk about this tomorrow.

Come and kiss me, pretty baby

Like we'll never have sex

Friends shouldn’t make each other feel like this.

October, 29

— I’m just saying, it’s a Sunday evening — Jeonghan felt like getting to the point of his argument after rambling for about 20 minutes on end — And? — she inquired, eyes still on her book, which made the Slytherin close his own, he hasn’t read a single word ever since he opened his mouth, just using his habit of reading as another cheap excuse to spend the night in the library with his lovely friend — We could do something else, you know… — he suggested, knowing damn well this isn’t going anywhere, his girl did not play about her poetry books.

— Like what? — she engaged, also aware of the fact this is a one way street — Literally anything else, maybe have dinner somewhere — he slouched against the hardwood chair — Dinner? The thing that killed Jesus? — her answer received nothing but a very judgmental look from a very judgmental Jeonghan who didn’t stay quiet about his discontent for long, like always — You’re such a disaster — he says averting his gaze to anywhere else so she couldn’t clock the painfully obvious heart eyes he was giving her.

— Why do you spend so much time here anyways? — after about 32 seconds of nice and peaceful silence, he asked again — Reading is fun, even if it’s reading about being a loser — the Hufflepuff responded already setting the terrain herself so Jeonghan couldn’t have the pleasure of calling her out on only reading melancholic books.

— We could never live together — the Slytherin states as if it isn’t the only future he could fathom to imagine — What if our books got mixed in the bookshelf? I might have a heart attack. Imagine receiving visits and have them wrongfully assume that I read poetry? I would rather die — anybody from a mile away can tell this man has thought about this very scenario way too much for his own good — And yet you’re the perfect amount of dramatic and pretentious to be a poet yourself — every once in a while he would notice that she talked like a book, he hated it, it was better when she talked like an chronically online alien who’s only life mission is to make sure he has at least one bad day a week.

Jeonghan, ever the most mature student of Hogwarts, sticked his tongue out in his friend’s direction, which was answered with the exact same action back at him — What are you even reading, ugly?

— The world’s wife, by Carol Ann Duffy — at the end of that day, after his pretty girl had already left to her dorm, for the first time in history; Yoon Jeonghan rented a book from the library.

November, 1

Looking at her made him feel all sorts of things, even from across the room. From an overwhelming sense of warmth just by watching his little flower engage in silly conversations with her friends after she’s done writing down notes to erratic heartbeats and goosebumps when she catches him staring and tilts her head, looking at him just like a confused puppy while mouthing “why are you staring?”. She made him feel all sorts of feelings he wishes he didn’t fall victim to, all sorts of fantasies he wished he didn’t understand, but Jeonghan was no saint, especially when it came to his little angel.

There were only two things in his mind today, which was an improvement in comparison to yesterday when there was only one, i’ll let you guess what it was, but right now there were two; 1. The argument with Josh, and 2. Her.

Jeonghan isn’t one to hold grudges against those he loves the most, as a trickster himself; he isn’t used to taking things personally, but Joshua… Joshua had gone too far. Just when the Slytherin was ready to finally pour his heart out to somebody who he deeply trusted and loved and open up about his feelings, he was met with the most terrible response! It just wouldn’t leave his head…

— She’s perfect for me, everything about her is perfect, I think about her all of the time and it’s messing me up — Jeonghan pathetically went on and on for what could’ve been anywhere from 30 min to 2 hours, poor boy was just so confused about the simplest of feelings — And the obvious conclusion to take away from this situation is…? — his Gryffindor friend tried helping — She’s ruining my life — and it didn’t work — You’re in love, you stupid idiot — so Josh decided to be a little more direct. He was right, like always, but that didn’t stop Jeonghan from sulking the whole entire night.

It was infuriating, what even happened to him? All it took was a pair of shining eyes and sweet smile and he’s completely done for? It’s not like the guy in question ever was the kind of student who engaged in class or was interested in anything the teachers had to say at all, but this is another level, it annoyed him to no end. That stupid girl just held his mind and all of his thoughts in her hands as if it was nothing, that stupid girl with her stupid unique personality and her stupid hauntinly beautiful face and her stupid cute outfits and the stupid boy who could not take her out of his stupid brain.

He left a letter at her desk after class, she would only find it the next morning while he was two classes away from being interrogated about said letter.

November, 15

Hogsmeade was full to the brim, but somehow, this moment felt very intimate.

Maybe it was the alcohol in their systems, maybe it was the casual way they didn’t even consider sitting with their housemates before claiming the little table by the window just for themselves, maybe it was the way they were both sitting while leaning completely forward, chins resting on their arms, faces just a few inches away while yapping away the end of exams season, it felt childish, it felt nice, it felt sweet.

— You don’t think I'm manly? — Jeonghan questioned as if this was about to become his villain origin story — You’re manly… Just in a peacock kinda of way — she answered giggling like there was no tomorrow, he loved everything going on here. Her flushed little face decorated with a big grin, her nose crunching up everytime she smiled, her voice slightly louder and whinier because of the alcohol, the slurred way her words came out sometimes, it was all perfect.

— Can I tell you something, puppy? — he whispers, knowing he isn’t anywhere near drunk enough to not remember this tomorrow, he doesn’t really care — There’s nothing in this place that I adore more than you.

He watched in awe as her eyes grew so much bigger, lips forming a little pout of shock, that specific cartoonish surprised look she always had when anything happens while she’sdrunk, looking both sides before leaning in and going “Really?” which is immediately followed by a little giggle.

In moments like this the Slytherin swears there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to have his girl all to himself, nobody else deserves this view. Isn’t all of this desire so ugly? Isn’t all this wanting so gross? Isn’t it all his? Just the thought of leaving Hogwarts and never seeing his pretty little thing again was enough to give him a full body shiver followed by an ever so present nauseous feeling.

— If I have to remember you for longer than I've known you, I might lose my mind a little — Jeonghan mindlessly admitted, a sly smile slowly makes its way in his friend’s face — Don’t you think you already lost it? — she asks.

— Maybe a little.

December, 24

— Won’t your friends be worried? Do they know or did not even tell them? — Jeonghan questions while trying to look at everything everywhere all at once. It was his first time spending Christmas night in the muggle realm, he wouldn’t admit it in a million years, but it wasn’t as bad as he thought it was — Why wouldn’t I tell them we’re going out? — the Hufflepuff answers his question with a question — As far as I remember they were very defensive about you becoming friends with big, bad Jeonghan, have they moved on from that? — his question only got him a smack on the arm.

— They haven’t cared about that for a while now, and you interrupted me! Again! — she stated before angrily letting go of his hand, which she had been holding so they wouldn’t go far from each other and get lost, yeah… that was definitely the only reason — My sincere apologies, your highness — not taking her attitude for granted, the Slytherin quickly holds her cold hand into his own much bigger one, it was ironic in a way, the Hufflepuff who’s body is always cold and the Slytherin who’s body is always warm — Now I don’t wanna talk anymore — apparently, she didn’t accept his apology, but didn’t let go of his hand either.

Jeonghan wasn’t sure if it was his sick mind making him hear things, but he could swear that as time went on, the sweetest girl in Hogwarts had become more and more of a brat, just for him tho. Maybe he was a bad influence.

— Go on, keep talking about the anime girl with the blue hair, I'm listening — did he understand most of what she was talking about? No. But she was happy to share her thoughts about Hatsune Miku’s new song, so really, who was he to say no? For all Jeonghan cares she could break his brain in two, it was only ever hers to mess with anyways.

Walking through the local christmas market was much more pleasant then the pureblood snob would ever imagine or admit, but she could tell that he was having a great time, and that was enough for both of them. Jeonghan has always had a terrible case of resting bitch face, so she really couldn't give less of her mind to anybody who stared at them weirdly, the Slytherin himself barely even noticed, too focused on this cozy new place.

They ate good food, took pictures with her digital camera, petted some strays here and there, it was a perfect evening. And just when they thought things couldn’t get any better…

— Come on, it’s not that deep — the bastard insisted while dragging his pretty thing along his arm to some bar’s doorstep, there was a mistletoe there — Is it not that deep or do you just want to kiss me? — the Hufflepuff teased, her flushed face betraying the casual tone she spoke in.

Finally at the bar, they stood there. Jeonghan, with that infuriating little grin in his stupidly beautiful face, looking down at his friend who had her arms crossed in front of her chest the second they arrived, looking back at him with the an annoyed expression and an angry little pout that forced him to resist, with all of his might, to the overwhelming urge to melt directly to the floor.

— That’s for me to know, — he said pulling his doll into his arms, a hand going up to her face to make sure no stubborn hairs got in the way of the moment — And for you to wonder.

Much to Jeonghan’s surprise, maybe he really wasn’t the manly one in this relationship after all. Because when the Hufflepuff straight up yanked him by the collar of his jacket to meet his lips, he could swear that he was made to be manhandled by a pretty girl. Ever the profissional, he relaxed into their kiss almost immediately, holding the back of her head firmly in his hands so he could take some control.

It was just as good as he imagined it would be, pillowy lips massaging his own, his puppy just so pliantly allowing his tongue to explore, it was sugar sweet and addicting.

Maybe it was a mistake, maybe it was a blessing, the girl wasn’t exactly sure while she was getting dragged around for the entire two and a half they spent going around in the christmas market. The sly prick just couldn’t control himself, whenever he saw a mistletoe, it was time. Jeonghan was so obvious, he started actually tricking her into thinking he was just interested in places. He would look around, engage in conversation with the sellers, get some nice food then the second they were about to leave, he would just pull her towards a certain spot, his girl already giggling and whining about getting tricked again. These two lost count of how many mistletoes they used to their advantage in just some hours, but at last, it was time to go.

Surprisingly, Jeonghan wasn’t really nervous about spending the night in his friend’s apartment, they have gotten extremely close after all. The thing bothering him was something else.

He wore some white t-shirt and fluffy pajama pants she found somewhere in the depths of her closet, probably due to a friend forgetting them. She was wearing a leopard print shirt and some black fluffy shorts, he loved the way she dressed much more than he could handle, it was too cute for him to handle. Their pajamas were the comfiest things they’ve ever worn in each other’s presence, you can only be so casual in School.

After whining about who got to choose what they watch before sleeping, they settled in any Netflix cliche christmas movie because of how often she made fun of the scripts in those movies, and she was right, they could’ve played a cliche movie bingo and checked all of the places before the movie hit the 40 minute mark.

Of course the film in question was nothing more than some background sound to their yapping session, what else could it be? Their conversations just flowed so easily, each topic and scenario just slipping through their fingers, eventually they got to the best part, talking about the people they both hate. At first it was the usual; “How long do you think that friend group is going to last?” and “Do you think that couple is going to get back together?” then it eventually turned into; “Do you think your friend group will last a long time?” and “How long do you think it will take before we miss our professors?” and…

— What are you gonna do after Hogwarts? — the Hufflepuff asks innocently, causing a mental turmoil to burst in Jeonghan’s head. He snaps before even thinking, and it’s probably for the best.

— What are we gonna be after Hogwarts? — the air caught in her throat was almost visible, the way her breathing got heavy, the way her eyes seemed to wander even though she didn’t break eye contact, this was a difficult conversation to have. After this they’ll either come out of this apartment as partners or as strangers, it was a tough pill to swallow.

— We don’t ever talk about it, we don’t ever dare bring it up but we both know what’s going on, don’t we? The year is ending, flower — he had that look in his eyes, that look he had at hogsmeade, she wasn’t sure if she had imagined it, but there it was again. Jeonghan had never looked so soft, in some oversized t-shirt and fluffy zebra print pajama pants she would never witness him wearing in any other situation, his hair as soft as ever, strands romantically sitting in front of his face as he reaches a hand to hold her cheek, the most gentle touch.

— I know we started this just messing around, we’ve been messing around since last year and it felt nice, it was fun, it was new and becoming closer was so rewarding that we just couldn’t stop it — he recalls the beginning of their alliance — But it’s not so light anymore, is it, dear? The tension became too much, I know you think about me too, I know you feel me it too — he spoke his heart out, voice as soft as the look in his eyes, all of the words that have been drowning him for the past few months were finally bubbling to the surface — I wanna stop it, we played around and it was fun but I need something solid now, I need to know where we go after this is over — he kept going, his eyebrows furrowing as his breathing got more erratic.

— We don’t have all of the time in the world so I need you to be honest with me right now — Jeonghan leaned in, he could almost see all of her thoughts and emotions right on those shiny eyes he fell in love with all those years ago, in all of this time; his sweet girl had never changed, but unknowingly, she changed him.

— Do you want me too? — the Slytherin asks.

A rushed “i need you too” was the last thing he could process before the Hufflepuff was yanking his face into a heated kiss, hugging his neck so she could sit on his lap, Jeonghan was in heaven.

His pretty girl softly pulling his hair to make him gasp into her mouth, his hands trying to be everywhere before he settled on holding her hips to keep her from moving too much. His sweet girl was a little too desperate for his taste. Why were her panties completely soaked and sticking to her core when he finally dipped his hand into her shorts? Was she getting hot and bothered the entire night and just taking it instead of asking for his help? — Own, did I leave my baby waiting for too long? My poor lil thing… — the motherfucker spoke up as condescending as always, only causing her to whine as he teasingly cupped her warmth through the moist underwear — Don’t worry, puppy. You know I’ll make it up to you — and “make up” he did.

As soon as the bastard found her bedroom, it was game on. At this point they’re unsure of how much time have gone by, one arm holding her waist firmly in place on her plush bed while the other held one of her legs up so he could have more access to the little pussy he spent so long dreaming about, he needed to eat his girlfriend out properly, let her know he’s the one for her, that no one would do it better than him, even if his efforts make his jaw hurt like crazy the next morning.

Jeonghan was having the time of his life, hearing her soft voice turning into a higher pitch whenever she whined about him teasing for too long, that she was ready to take him. And of course, being as annoying as ever, he couldn’t let the humiliation be just that, no, he made her repeat it every time — What was that, doll? — he looks up as if her sweet moans interrupted his holy feast, his chin soaked with her juices, his lips glistening with her honey, this view could kill — I need you, Jeongie… — she finally had the strength to answer, making the devil grin.

He had no intentions of stopping, no, he needed that little cunt on his face until he suffocated. The bastard kept going after the first, the second and for a miracle, the third orgasm was his last straw, and even though he could devour his stupid girl right there… — My pretty baby did so well for me, didn’t she? — he gave her a much deserved break before getting down to finish their business.

It felt as though there was nothing else in the world, nothing other than them. Passionate slow kisses, arms cradling one another as their hands caressed each other’s bodies, this moment could last all of eternity and neither culprit would complain, not even once. Feeling his hard on pressing against her thighs was driving the Hufflepuff a little bit insane, tucking on his waistband made her mouth feel awfully empty.

The Slytherin didn’t even remember that being hard was so damn painful, a soft touch of her hands on his crotch was enough to make him hiss, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his lips together, the sight was pretty enough to make one cry, he’s was just such a beautiful boy, how could she not want to have him in her mouth? — Please, please, pleas-

— You don’t have to — he tried shushing her, not wanting his baby to do any work — Want to… Wanna make you feel good, Jeongie… — that whiny tone made his knees buckle quickly, mind racing far too fast for him to stop himself before just sitting back on his knees and letting his pretty girl have her way with him.

For someone who was in full control just fifteen minutes ago, Jeonghan surely sounded like a bitch in heat. Biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood but letting go before it happens so he can moan like a whore just before the pleasure becomes too much and causes him to throw his head back, looking at his girl was too much to ask from him, everything was too much. Looking just so pretty trying her hardest to fit his thick base into her mouth, not paying any mind to all of the gagging, working so hard to please her Hannie, he could bust just from this fact alone, the man was losing it.

His appreciation for her hard work did not go unappreciated for long, not when he got his doll on all fours for him, shoulders pressing down on the mattress while he pounded that pussy into another dimension not even ten minutes after getting the head of his life. The squeaking of the bed, the sound of skin slapping, the begging for more whenever he grabbed her hair roughly and used it as a leash to pull her body into his, his chest pressing against her back while he praised his pretty thing for being “such a good puppy for him, taking all of his cum”, only for the moans to go louder when he slammed her face back into the bed, the soft squelchy sound coming from where their bodies kissed, the music in this room was Jeonghan’s favorite.

These two were wild animals for a long time, their muscles would most definitely feel their efforts tomorrow, but right now, after having the best orgasms of their lives, the lovebirds were in absolute peace, staying in the bed for much longer than expected after sex; just holding each other, just loving each other. After a nice shower, a change of sheets and some instant ramen, tho? Ready to go to sleep, if anything; desperate to go to sleep. Jeonghan felt a slight shift on the bed alongside him, he could feel his preciosity leaving his grasp just before he succumbed to the tiredness of his bones, he reluctantly opened his eyes; she’s on her phone?

— Did I fuck you so good that you’re writing poetry? — he asks, it’s a fair question — Shut up, Slytherin — the Hufflepuff answers just before hitting send message into her groupchat, telling her friends everything they could possibly need to know about the past two hours or so with just 11 words.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #jeonghan au

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feminist-space · 1 day ago

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"Joy Spence, 21, said she visited emergency departments at two hospitals in St. John's over the course of nearly two weeks this May.

What began as weakness and abdominal pain on her right side quickly deteriorated into blacking out from the agony in her torso.

But no matter how dire her symptoms got, doctors kept sending her home.

"They would just tell me, 'Your bloodwork's normal, there's nothing we can do.' They would send me home, then same thing again," she said. "I would go back again. They would get me to do the bloodwork, say everything's normal."

Ultrasound and CT scans apparently turned up nothing, but Spence, in such severe pain, says she had no option but to keep returning to the hospital, where she says she was eventually left screaming in a waiting room, ignored by hospital staff.

"If somebody doesn't help me, I'm going to die," she recalls wailing, watching doctors and nurses pass her by.

At one point, she was dismissed outright by a walk-in clinic nurse, she adds.

"Somebody said to me, 'I don't know what you expect me to do,'" she said. "'You're a healthy 21-year-old young female.'"

One night, she says, her boyfriend had to help her into an ambulance. Spence was in so much pain she couldn't stay conscious and stand on her own.

"I remember the man in the ambulance telling me … how often he sees other young women going into the hospital and seeing them be misdiagnosed and not taken seriously," she said, speaking through tears.

"He said that he would do his best to … get things going for me."

Spence says she went to an ER at the Health Sciences Centre or St. Clare's Mercy Hospital about 10 times over a 12-day period, beginning on May 21. She also visited her family doctor, who could do little except tell her to speak directly to the surgeon at Health Sciences Centre, she said.

Each time she saw a doctor, she says, she was sent home and told to dance around her living room or do yoga to cure what physicians believed was anxiety or sluggish bowels.

"I had so many laxatives," Spence recalls. "I would tell them … nothing's even coming out anymore. It's not just this, I don't think. But no, they were dead set on the constipation and only constipation. Like, it can only be that."

...

Spence says doctors only began to take her seriously once she began vomiting in a Health Sciences Centre hallway. The contents of her stomach were green and black.

An older doctor walking past her happened to notice, stopping in his tracks. Spence says he immediately identified the issue as appendicitis.

At that doctor's urging, Spence was finally wheeled into an operating room, where she says her burst appendix — now gangrenous — was removed.

"I think when I walked into the room and they seen a 21-year-old young girl, they immediately dismissed me and thought that there couldn't be anything wrong with me," Spence said.

"I was not on their minds and not on their radar. And if they didn't have that preconceived idea of me, those thoughts wouldn't have been formed and maybe I would have gotten the proper care that I should have."

...

Spence is still struggling to recover from her ordeal. Physically, she's now fine: her appendix was removed and her stitches have healed.

But she's lost an alarming amount of weight, she says, wakes up gasping in the middle of the night and can't stop herself from crying whenever she remembers the hospital.

"I've been losing a lot of hair," she said. "Mentally, it's just been a struggle."

Spence only received an apology from the health authority after CBC News requested comment and confirmed that Spence had done an interview — a move she says felt hollow and frustrating, since the manager who called her didn't give her an explanation about why she was repeatedly ignored while waiting to be admitted.

The ripple effect from her illness, and how she says she was treated when seeking care, has uprooted her life. She's taken a year off her studies in Memorial University's social work program and has lost her job. She's looking for trauma therapy, but now doesn't have the money to pay for it, she says.

"I think as young women we're always told what we're supposed to do, how we're supposed to think, and not to trust our instincts," she said.

"But most of the time … the gut instinct is right. I knew I was sick. I knew what was happening wasn't right, and I could have died if I didn't keep going back to the hospital.

"If I had listened to those doctors and went back home — what could have really happened?""

#ableism #ableism in medicine #medical malpractice #medicine #medicine dismissing patients #misogyny in medicine #hospital management system

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eu-nicola · 2 days ago

Text

the finish line part 4

and final - part 1 part 2 part 3

summary: you are the girlfriend of Lando Norris, Max Verstappen's rival with whom the tension between the two is undeniable.

warnings: nothing

word counter: 4264

author's note: english is not my first language

tags: @a-beaverhausen @maluzets55

The last few days of vacation had been anything but peaceful. It wasn't just Max's attention that weighed on you, but also the curious glances of others. Every time you went out, whether alone or in company, you felt like everyone was watching you, as if they suspected something beyond what was evident. Although you tried to remain indifferent, the pressure was beginning to affect you.

Max, for his part, seemed to handle everything with the same confidence with which he drove on the track. However, not even he could escape the public eye. When the vacation finally ended and the drivers returned to their routines, the questions at the press conferences began to take on a more personal tone. Instead of focusing solely on his recent championship, the journalists wanted to know more about his life off the track.

"Max, after your victory, you were seen celebrating intensely. Can you tell us more about that?" asked one of the reporters with an insinuating smile.

Max, sitting with his usual confident expression, just raised an eyebrow. “I celebrated like any champion would. It was a special moment for me and my team. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

The answer was direct, but not enough to divert attention. Another journalist intervened, this time with an even more incisive tone.

“There has been a lot of talk about a certain company during those celebrations. Any statement on that?”

Max smiled, although his eyes showed a glint of irritation. “My private life is just that: private. I’m here to talk about racing, not rumors.”

While Max dealt with the media pressure, you faced your own battles. Social media had become a minefield. Comments about you began to appear, some insinuating that you were too close to Max, others criticizing you for not always being by Lando’s side at the most important moments. There were those who said you were seeking attention, that you liked drama. The words hurt more than you wanted to admit. You tried to ignore them, but it was hard when every time you opened your phone there was something new waiting for you.

Lando, oddly enough, seemed to enjoy it all from a distance. Even though he had been your boyfriend for so long, his attitude was almost indifferent.

“What did you expect?” he said to you one night while you were talking on the phone because he had called you. “You’re in the public eye now. This is what happens. You should get used to it.”

His tone was so carefree that it infuriated you. Get used to it? To people questioning your loyalty, your feelings? While you dealt with the pressure, he seemed to enjoy his freedom, attending events and meetings without worrying about what they said about him.

“You know what, Lando? It would be easier if you at least seemed to care a little because you caused all of this,” you finally blurted out, your voice thick with frustration.

“I do,” he replied with a sigh. “But I also know that you can’t control what people say.”

The conversation ended, but it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Max, on the other hand, seemed ever-present, even if it was silent. You knew that if you texted him, he would respond immediately. But after everything that had happened, you resisted.

One afternoon, though, after a particularly rough day on social media, your phone buzzed with a message from him.

“How are you? I’ve seen what’s going on online. Don’t let it get to you. People always have something to say.”

His message was simple, but comforting. For a moment, you felt like you weren’t alone in all of this, that someone actually understood what you were going through.

The days followed, each bringing their own set of challenges. You tried to focus on your own things, but it was impossible to completely escape the whirlwind that had formed around you.

The weight of exposure began to become more than just an inconvenience; it felt like a constant burden you couldn’t let go of. Every time you opened your phone, every notification, every comment, every message seemed to add a new layer of self-doubt and anxiety. No matter how hard you tried to focus on your own life, your own projects, the shadow of social media and criticism was still there, haunting you.

One night, as you sat on the bed in your hotel room in Spain, you stared at your reflection in the dead screen of your phone. How had you gotten to this point? What had once been exciting—standing next to one of Formula 1’s most promising drivers—now felt like endless exposure to judgment and misunderstanding. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to breathe deeply, but even the air felt heavy.

You and Lando had officially broken up a few weeks ago. It had been an inevitable breakup, a step you both knew you had to take. There were no big arguments, no shouting, just a mutual recognition that things were no longer the same. Lando, for his part, seemed to have moved on without looking back. His social media showed photos of him at events, smiling with friends, enjoying his uncomplicated life. And you... you felt trapped in limbo.

Your relationship with Max, on the other hand, was in uncertain territory. There were no clear words, no labels that could define what you had, but there was something palpable between you both. Every message from him, every look, every conversation was imbued with a latent tension, a connection that seemed to go beyond the physical. You were on the verge of something, and you both knew it.

Your phone vibrated on the nightstand, breaking the silence of the room. You took it without looking, half expecting another critical message or a sensational article, but seeing Max's name on the screen, something in your chest momentarily eased.

Max: "Are you okay? I saw Lando uploaded something new, but he didn't mention anything about you. Do you need to talk?"

For a moment, you stared at the message. How did he always know when you were at your limit? You didn't know if it made you happy or upset. With shaking fingers, you started to type a reply, but you deleted the words before sending them. You didn't want to seem weak, even though deep down you knew Max was probably the only person at the moment who could understand what you were going through.

Minutes later, another message came through.

Max: "I'm here if you need to vent. You don't have to carry it all alone."

That simple statement broke down your defenses. You felt tears build up in your eyes, but you refused to let them out. You had endured so much, trying to be strong, but the emotional exhaustion was too much. You finally wrote:

You: “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Max. It all feels too much… The pressure, the comments, the exposure. Sometimes I feel like I’m falling apart.”

Max’s response was not long in coming.

Max: “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You’re stronger than you think, but I understand that this is all a lot. I want to see you. Let me help you carry this.”

Your heart was pounding as you read his words. There was something about his way of saying things that always managed to calm the storm inside you. The thought of seeing him, of being able to talk face to face, felt like a necessary balm. But there was also fear. Fear of what it would mean to take that step, to cross a line that already seemed so tenuous.

After a long silence, you finally wrote:

You: “I’m not ready for everything that comes with this, Max. But I want to see you too."

A little while later, you received a call. It was him. You hesitated for a moment before answering, but finally swiped your finger across the screen.

"I knew you would answer," Max said in his calm, confident tone. "I'm going to Spain this weekend. Because of you."

"Max, I don't know if that's a good idea," you whispered, though your voice betrayed your true feelings.

“It is,” he replied without hesitation. “Because this isn’t just pressure or exposure. It’s about us, about who we are when no one else is looking.”

His words resonated with you. Maybe you didn’t have to face it all alone after all.

The weekend came quicker than you expected. Max had kept his word and was in Spain, ready to see you. The first time you met him was in the lobby of your hotel. He was dressed in his usual laid-back style: a simple t-shirt and jeans, but there was something about his presence that always managed to capture your full attention.

When his blue eyes met yours, the air seemed to stand still for a moment. Max walked toward you with a determined stride, without any hesitation. Before you could say anything, he wrapped you in a firm hug, one that offered not only comfort, but also a silent promise: You are not alone.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice deep but gentle. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

You stayed in his arms for what seemed like an eternity. All the weight you had been carrying, all the pressure, slowly began to fade away. When you finally pulled away, Max looked at you with an intensity that made you feel seen, completely.

“Max…” you began, but he shook his head before you could continue.

“I don’t want you to worry anymore about what people say. We don’t owe them anything,” he stated, his tone firm. “Let me carry some of this burden with you. I won’t let outside pressure get to us, I won’t let this tear us apart.”

The determination in his voice made you feel a strange mix of relief and apprehension. You had been so used to dealing with everything alone that the idea of allowing someone else to carry some of your worries seemed almost foreign to you. But Max wasn’t just anyone. There was something about the way he spoke, the way he was present, that gave you a security you didn’t even know you needed.

“What if we can’t handle it?” You asked, letting out one of your biggest insecurities.

Max took your hands, his fingers intertwining with yours. “We can,” he replied with unwavering conviction. “Do you know how many times I’ve been told I couldn’t accomplish something? Every time I’ve gotten in the car, I’ve had to prove them wrong. This is no different. We’re no different.”

His words stayed with you, offering a hope you hadn’t allowed to blossom until now. The idea of facing all of this with him, together, suddenly didn’t seem so impossible.

For the rest of the day, Max remained by your side. Every time you saw a phone being raised to take a photo or heard a murmur as you passed, Max squeezed your hand lightly, as if reminding you that it didn’t matter what the world thought. He was there, with you.

That night, as you both sat in your room, Max leaned back on the couch, watching you with a calm smile.

"You know, as much as I love winning championships, being here with you feels like a different victory," he said, his tone lighter now.

“I didn’t know you had such a romantic side,” you joked, trying to lighten the tension in your chest.

“Only for you,” he replied, his gaze sincere. “And if you let me, I’ll prove it to you every day.”

You couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in weeks, you felt safe.

Days had turned into weeks, and your relationship with Max seemed to grow deeper with every moment shared. He was your refuge, your calm in the midst of the storm that continued to rage on social media and in the media. Yet as hard as you tried to stay strong, the persistent criticism was beginning to wear you down. Every article speculating about your life, every cruel comment you unintentionally encountered, made you feel more vulnerable.

The stress was building up. There were nights when you could barely sleep, your mind stuck in an endless cycle of questions and doubts. Was it all worth it? Could you continue to face constant scrutiny? Even though Max was doing his best to reassure you that you were in this together, a part of you was starting to wonder if it would be better for both of you if you stepped away.

One night, after a long day where Max had had multiple media engagements, you found yourself alone in the hotel room in Bahrain where you had flown to join him. The city lights shone through the windows, but they offered no comfort. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you stared at your phone. Notifications kept coming in: messages, social media mentions, articles with sensational headlines.

You sighed and turned off the screen, setting the phone aside. You couldn’t go on like this.

When Max returned, the first thing he noticed was your expression. He immediately came over, sitting next to you. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You looked up at him, and in that moment, the words began to come out unfiltered. “I don’t know if I can go through with this, Max. The pressure, the media, the comments… It feels like I’m losing control of my life.”

He frowned, his eyes reflecting both understanding and frustration. “I knew this was hard for you, but you don’t have to face it alone. I’m here, and you know that.”

“I know, Max,” you replied, a lump in your throat. “But I can’t help but feel like by being with you, I’m only making things worse. I don’t want to be a burden on you, or your career.”

Max took your hands, his grip firm but comforting. “You’ll never be a burden on me. And if you think walking away will solve anything, you’re wrong. People will always talk, no matter what we do.”

“What if I decide to walk away?” you asked quietly, fearing his reaction.

Max took a deep breath, processing your words. “If that’s what you need to feel better, I’ll respect that,” he finally said, though his voice betrayed his internal struggle. “But I want you to know that I’d rather face this hell with you, than be without you.”

His words brought tears to your eyes. He always found a way to break down your defenses. But the doubt was still there, fueled by fear and insecurity.

That night, as Max slept beside you, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The decision to walk away wasn’t easy, but perhaps it was the only thing that could bring you some peace. Could you give up what you had to protect yourself? Or could you find a way to endure together, like he wished?

The night progressed slowly and silently. Even though Max slept beside you, you lay awake, caught in a whirlwind of thoughts. The dim glow of the city dimly illuminated the room, but offered no comfort. You turned slightly, watching Max's relaxed face as he slept. There was something almost innocent about his expression, a calmness that contrasted with the storm inside you.

You tried to close your eyes, but the weight of your doubts was still present. You didn't know how much time passed before you felt a slight movement beside you. Opening your eyes, you realized that Max was also awake now. His blue eyes, still heavy with sleep, looked at you with a mix of concern and tenderness.

"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly, his tone laden with a care that only he could offer at this hour of the morning.

You shook your head, unable to find the words. Max sat up slightly, propping himself up on one elbow as he watched you closely.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" he insisted, gently caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

You took a deep breath, trying to contain the flood of emotions. But his eyes kept searching you, offering a reassurance that only he could provide. Finally, you decided to speak up.

“Max, I don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “This whole world, the constant attention. And the last thing I want is for it to affect you, too.”

Max remained silent for a moment, processing your words. Then, he sat up fully, turning to face you.

“You know something?” he began, his tone firmer now. “Ever since I started in this sport, I’ve always been surrounded by people who admire me for what I do on the track. People who celebrate my victories and forget about me as soon as the season is over. But you… you’re different.”

You were surprised by the intensity of his words, and he continued before you could respond.

"You're the only person who truly sees me, beyond the driver, beyond the titles and the races. With you, I can be myself. I don't have to prove anything, I don't have to win to feel like I'm worth something. And that, to me, is everything."

Your heart skipped a beat, and Max moved a little closer, taking your hands in his.

"Without you," he said with an honesty that took your breath away, "this all becomes meaningless. Every time I cross the finish line, every trophy I lift, even before you were with me, before Lando stole you from me... it wouldn't mean anything if you weren't there for me."

The tears you'd been holding back began to fall silently, but Max didn't look away. Instead, he squeezed your hands tighter, as if to assure you that he wasn't going to let you go.

"I need you by my side," he confessed. “Not just because of what we share, but because you are my balance. You are the person who reminds me why I do what I do, and who I really am when everything else shuts down.”

You stayed silent, letting his words sink in. You had underestimated how important you were to him, how much you meant beyond the insecurities and doubts that plagued you. Seeing him like this, so vulnerable and honest, made you realize something: you weren’t alone in this. It wasn’t just your struggle; it was both of ours.

“Max…” you began, your voice shaking slightly. “I need you too. But this is all so hard. I don’t want the pressure to destroy us.”

“It won’t,” he replied determinedly. “Together we are stronger. It doesn’t matter what people say, what they think. The only thing that matters is what you and I feel. And I feel like we can handle this. If you’re willing to try, I’m not going to let anything or anyone tear us apart.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and hope. Max pulled you close to him, wrapping you in a warm, protective embrace. You stayed like that for a long moment, finding comfort in each other's closeness.

The next day was not really just any other day, after weeks of preparation and nerves, the first race of the year was finally here. Nerves ran through the paddock, and the usual bustle of competition filled the air, but there was something different this time. You had come, as always, to support Max, but this time you would do so in an even more visible way, closer to him than ever.

Max, with his relaxed but focused attitude, was ready to prove that, despite the rumors and criticism, nothing could stop him. He had told you about how he wanted to start the season with a win, not just for himself, but also to show the world that he was at his best, that nothing the media said or speculated could tarnish his success. He looked at you before getting into the car, his eyes shining with fierce determination, but also with a special warmth just for you.

The race was action-packed, as you would expect. Max stuck to his strategy, fighting for every position with that mix of precision and bravery that characterized him. Every lap was a mix of excitement and anxiety, not just for him, but for you, who were watching from the pits. You knew how much this victory meant to him, and as you watched him outpace each opponent, the tension took hold of you.

Finally, the checkered flag fell, and Max crossed the finish line in first place. The sound of the engine fading as he celebrated the victory made your heart skip a beat. As soon as the race was over, all eyes turned to him: the champion, the favorite, the icon.

You ran to him as soon as you could see him, where you found him surrounded by his team. You couldn’t help but smile in happiness for him, but also at the feeling that, in that moment, everything that had happened between you had come to this point, to this victory. When Max saw you in the crowd, his face lit up. There were no words needed; he just ran to you, wrapping you in a hug so tight you almost felt like he was lifting you off the ground.

After the anthems and champagne, trophy in hand, Max stepped up to the camera for an interview that was, of course, going to be broadcast live. What happened next surprised everyone. Instead of going on with the typical answers about the race, Max took a moment, with a smile full of pride, to talk about you.

"I want to dedicate this win to someone very special," he began, his words laden with sincerity. "To my amazing partner, who has been with me through the toughest times, when I needed it the most. I want everyone to know that without her, this win wouldn't have the same meaning. She is my support, my strength, and my love."

Your heart was pounding, but what touched you the most was his next statement.

“She’s the person who makes me feel the happiest I’ve ever been, and I can’t imagine my life without her. My love, you’re the love of my life.”

The cameras focused on your face, and even though a torrent of emotions washed over you, you couldn’t help but smile shyly, a little embarrassed by the sudden attention, but deeply grateful for his very public support. Max hadn’t just won a race; he’d done something much bigger: he’d opened his heart in front of millions of people.

The moment became more intense when the crowd applauded, and some began to cheer for you as well. Even though you knew that not all of Max’s fans would be happy with his statement, something in the air had changed. The media had tried to paint you in many ways, but in that instant, it didn’t matter. Max’s victory, the way he had publicly defended you, was a clear message: you were together, no matter what anyone said.

As the days passed, something unexpected happened. Amidst the criticism and speculation, you began to notice a change. The comments started to become kinder. At first, some of Max's most loyal followers were still hesitant, but as time went by, their support for you began to grow. Photos of the two of you, the photos that Max shared of you, in which you looked so happy and peaceful together, began to appear on fans' profiles, and words of support began to outweigh the criticism.

You were surprised to see how many people were willing to embrace your relationship, to understand that behind the image of a successful driver, there was a real person, someone who also had the right to be happy and to love. Some of the fans, even the most skeptical, began to comment positively on the posts, talking about how beautiful you looked together, how genuine your relationship was.

One night, after a race, while you were sharing a quiet moment with Max, you received a message from one of Max's most loyal followers. They said something simple but profound: “We are glad to see you so happy with Max. You deserve all the good that is to come.”

That night, as you went to bed, Max came to you, smiling with that familiar calm, and whispered in your ear: “See? The rumors don’t matter anymore. What really matters is what we have built together.”

And finally, after so much effort, so much sacrifice, you knew that you were both ready to face the future, not just as a couple, but as an unstoppable team. Together. And perhaps in the future, as a family.

#fanfic #oneshot #imagine #x reader #f1 fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x yn #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader

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revelboo · 16 hours ago

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OOOO! Yes yes yes! Please more of the Lost Light crew! I love them all so much!

And more Shockwave (any gen) PLS PLS PLS he is my absolute favorite!!!

Your writing is amazing! All of it! I love every update! Every story is such a treat and the way you write is delicious!

Thank you!

Invisible Monsters Pt 5

Lost Light Megatron x Reader

• “What’s going on?” You mumble as he reaches up to curl his servos around the warmth of you where you’d apparently draped yourself against his neck while he recharged. Hates moving you, but his data pad is lit up. Carefully cradling you to him so he can sit up and reach for his data pad as it dings again. “Megatron?” The worry in your sleepy voice makes him slow down, tracing the curve of your cheek with a servo. Wanting nothing more than to just lay back down with you, because he’s rested better feeling the beat of your heart against him than he has in forever. How long has it been since his recharge wasn’t haunted by nightmares? Somehow, having you there, feeling you, banishes them.

• “Everything’s well.” His words are reassuring, but there’s the faintest hint of a growl in his voice that contradicts him and you’re wide awake now. Whatever that alert was, it’s bad. That feeling strengthening as the former warlord shutters his optics for a moment as if gathering himself. Or praying for strength. Rodimus maybe? “I’ll be back,” he adds, lowering you onto his berth as he stands, hesitating to drape a blanket around you before leaving.

• Stiffening when the finds Ultra Magnus waiting outside his quarters, he falls into step beside the other mech, heading for the bridge. “How many?” And how had no one realized what idiocy Brainstorm was up to? Preceptor is supposed to be watching him, reining him in.

• “Aside from the one currently in your possession?” The look Magnus shoots him clearly giving away his opinion on leaving a human in his care. And it’s not that he doesn’t understand the other mech’s concern, but it still bothers him that Magnus assumes you’re in danger with him. That he’d hurt you. “Three more have been found so far, but Brainstorm isn’t exactly being forthcoming. If that device has been randomly pulling humans here since the first one appeared, there’s no telling how many there are. It doesn’t help that we keep finding new areas of the ship or rooms that were walled off.”

• Primus, what a mess. “The others?” He asks servos lifting unconsciously to touch his throat where your warmth was before he realizes what he’s doing and drops his hand. “Who has them?”

• “Rodimus has one that he tried to pawn off on me. Drift has another that seems to be having some sort of lingering issue with being transported. And Whirl.” Venting tiredly at him as Megatron’s steps falter, Magnus holds up a hand. “I know, but considering their immediate instinct when faced with him was to punch him? I’m not too concerned. I’m more worried that Brainstorm said there’s likely more not on the ship.”

• Running his servos over his face, he swallows a growl, because this mess just gets better. Because how to tell you that they’d figured out what had happened to you, but that you’d been one of the lucky ones? That you might not have been is an uneasy feeling twisting through his spark. He’d never have known what he was missing, never have felt the touch of those trusting, little hands on his much bigger ones. Hands that before had only been used to hurt. “Dead, then?” He hazards as they enter the bridge and he spots Rodimus and Drift both cornering Brainstorm, the scientist appearing bored with them.

• “Or on another ship or world we passed too near. From what Brainstorm and Preceptor have volunteered, humans were only shifted to places where Cybertronians were.”

#transformers x reader #megatron x reader #mtmte megatron

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uss-edsall · 8 hours ago

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If there’s any two things that were extremely discouraging for my line of work (I’m a military historian who works in museums and archives) is like

This election has shown me that my entire line of work, functionally, exists solely so the average person can go ‘wow our ancestors were so brave fighting the Nazis’ (proceeds to never bother learning who the Nazis were or what they did, doesn’t give it any further thought past ‘great-grandfather was so cool’)

It immediately came to mind what a space race history professor last year said when asked a question like ‘do our politicians look back on all the stuff you’ve taught us when making decisions?’. He responded with “Oh, no, they’re the most ahistorical people I’ve ever met, if it’s older than five minutes it may as well have never happened”

The result of this me kinda lowkey going “what the fuck is the point of all this? Am I just doing nothing but contributing to academic circlejerks in ivory towers and armchair generals arguing while being steadily microwaved in fascist run discord servers?

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usomads · 17 hours ago

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There's No Going Back // Jey Uso x Reader

**Author's Note: Hiiiii, this is my first ever fic writing so go easy on me 🤭 but if you like this feel free to give me some more suggestions too! Happy reading!**

Plot -> Y/N catches her boyfriend of three years in their shared bed with someone else. When she goes to her best friend Josh’s to gather her thoughts and seek some consolation, she learns that’s not the only thing she’s going to find when she walks in the door…

Pairings -> Jey Uso x Fem!Reader (Y/N) Warnings -> Cheating (made up BF name), Cursing, Hickies, Oral Sex (Fem!Receiving), Fingering, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Minors DNI

Word Count -> 3.4k Nothing seemed to be going right for Y/N today. It started by her spilling hot coffee on her shirt at 6am, making her atrociously late to her morning meetings at work, followed by her getting written up for said tardiness, then being swamped with paperwork all day. She had yet to eat or drink anything (except for the other half of the coffee she didn’t spill on herself) and she. was. EXHAUSTED. All Y/N wanted to do was relax on her couch with her boyfriend Ben, whom she’d been dating coming up on four years in December, and let everything that transpired today slip from her mind as she laid in her man’s arms. That was not to be though, as the minute she turned the lock to enter her 2 bedroom apartment they shared she immediately sensed something was wrong. The scent in the air was different; she knew she hadn’t gotten any new candles or air fresheners lately so that wasn’t it. Perfume, she thought as she started assembling the pieces together, and it’s not mine.

Y/N looked around the apartment. There was no sign of anyone here, no trace of another woman. She relaxed partially, still keeping the thought in the back of her mind, but feeling eased because she didn't see any evidence of an affair in her space. But she didn’t need to see it to confirm it, she heard it. A moan. Coming from the bedroom.

“Fuck Ben, I’m so close.”

She stopped dead in her tracks, the blood in her veins had turned ice cold. No, there was no way, right? Ben wouldn’t throw away three years of our relationship like this. He’d never do that to her, he loved her. Right? This had to be a dream, right?

Her feet moved before her mind understood what was happening. Y/N was walking on autopilot, directly to the room where she heard the female voice come from. She knew she didn’t need to see it, she had heard enough to confirm her suspicions already. But before she knew it she was standing in front of her bedroom door, and sure enough she was hearing everything she needed to let her know that this wasn’t a dream. Echoing noises of skin slapping, faint moans and groans, and whimpering rang through Y/N’s ear’s, but that didn’t stop her from twisting the knob on the door and silently cracking it open. She saw the unthinkable; Ben, her long-time boyfriend, had a random woman bent over the bed, their bed, and was fucking her in ways that were meant for Y/N and Y/N only. And the sight of it made her want to throw up.

******************************************************************

Y/N couldn’t remember when she left the entryway to her bedroom. She couldn’t remember running out of the apartment and into her car. Hell, she couldn’t even remember sitting in standstill traffic on I-285. But she did do all of those things, because here she sat parked in front of her best friend Josh’s house.

Josh, who she met years ago at a networking event in collaboration with her company and the WWE, was her go-to person. After that event, they quickly became the best of friends. They’d spend every chance they could together when he wasn’t on the road wrestling for hundreds of thousands of people, much to the disapproval of Ben. Ben never liked how much time Y/N wanted to spend with Josh when he was home, and he sure as hell hated how close the two were. Ben had started many fights with Y/N about Josh over the years and each time she assured him that there was never anything happening between the two; she had always shown Ben she was loyal to him and him only. And look how that turned out.

Before she knew it she was on Josh’s doorstep, the fall air in Atlanta feeling colder than usual to her, as she pressed the button on the Ring doorbell. It felt like hours of her standing there but only a couple minutes later and Josh was answering the door. He was shirtless, with basketball shorts loosely hanging around his waist. His hair was wet, like he had just freshly showered, and he smelled richly of his body wash and aftershave.

“Hey mamas, why didn’t you ca-,” he stopped mid-sentence. Josh knew the woman standing before him for 6 years, he knew everything about her. He knew when she was happy, when she was sad, when she was angry. And he definitely knew something was wrong now. But before he could ask further, she broke down in front of him.

“Ben, he.. I..” Y/N couldn’t even form the words to say it out loud, sniffling and letting out sobs trying to tell him what had happened, but Josh quickly figured it out and ushered her to the couch in his living room. He left her for a moment to grab her a water from the fridge, but immediately came back and sat next to her while she tried to describe the events that just unfolded.

“I saw it,” she cried, “at first I thought-, at first I thought that m-maybe I was just h-hearing things. B-but he was f-fucking someone else. I-in our b-bed.” Josh opened his arms to her and she nestled her face in the crook of his neck, letting out loud sobs while he listened and embraced her. She doesn’t deserve this, he thought, she doesn’t deserve any of this.

Josh continued consoling Y/N and cooing reassuring words in her ear while she let out sobs against him. Josh had plans tonight to relax and unwind during one of the rare longer periods of time he had off, but now? Y/N was his number 1 priority and he was going to be here all night if he had to, just to make sure she was okay. Josh’s heart shattered hearing her cry over a man who 1. he never cared much for to begin with, and 2. had broken his best friend’s heart. Josh wasn’t blind to the clear disdain Ben had shown him over the years, but he knew why he hated him so much. Ben saw what Y/N didn’t, that Josh was madly in love with her. Ben was afraid that Josh would try to take Y/N away from him, and if Ben hadn’t been in the picture he might’ve. But none of that mattered now; what mattered was being the person, the friend that Y/N desperately needed to be there for her.

Lost in his own thoughts, Josh didn’t notice that Y/N had stopped crying and was lifting her head from the crook of his neck. She sniffled, and wiped her cheeks from the tears that coated them.

“Thank you, J. For letting me sabotage your evening and being here for me. I needed that.”

“Baby, you didn’t sabotage nothin’. I had no plans tonight. You know I’ll always be here for you. Always.” That pet name always makes her stomach do somersaults, but after the events of this evening she wasn’t able to react with a blush or a soft smile like she usually does.

“I just don’t understand why,” she vented, “why would he throw away our entire relationship like that? Like, did I do something wrong? Was it me? Was I not good enough for him?” “Y/N-”

“No, Josh, I don’t wanna hear any of that ‘you’re too good for him’ and ‘it’s his fault’ bullshit right now. Three years, Josh, three whole years I was with him, and he decides to fuck some random bitch in our bed all of a sudden? It had to have been me, there’s no way he-”

Her sentence was cut short by the feeling of Josh’s lips on hers. Maybe it was her emotions guiding her, but Y/N instinctively moved her lips in sync with his. Something about the way Josh’s lips felt against her own felt natural, normal even. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, they were friends after all and friends don’t kiss each other like this, but she couldn’t will herself to pull away. What felt like hours of the two sharing this intimate moment together lasted mere minutes, as Josh pulled away quickly realizing what he had just done.

“Y/N, I-i’m so sorry… I wasn’t thinking right, I- I shouldn’t have done that. But hearing you talk down on yourself like that just… I couldn’t take it. You’re just so incredible and I-” It was his turn to be cut off now, by Y/N giving him a swift kiss to stop his train of thought. Y/N’s lips hovered over his for a brief moment, daring Josh to close the distance between the two again. She watched his face show how much he was trying to control himself and giggled for the first time that night, her cheeks once rosy from her tears now turning color over the two’s moment they shared, and finally spoke up.

“Don’t be sorry, J. If I'm being honest I kinda enjoyed it, and if I’m being more honest…” She leaned impossibly closer to him now, her lips brushing his as she whispered, “I wanna do it again.” That was all Josh needed to hear for him to crash his lips into hers, this time more desperate than before. He craved her, he needed her, and he wanted her to feel it too. His tongue brushed her bottom lip begging for entrance, causing her to smile into the kiss and denying him access. He was not going to let her tease him like this though, taking her bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a tug. The slight pain and mix of pleasure earned a gasp from Y/N, giving Josh an opportunity for him to slide his tongue inside as they battled for dominance. He used this distraction to pull her into his lap, Y/N now straddling his waist, as they continued to explore each other's mouths and bodies. Y/N’s hands were tugging on the ends of his mullet, earning low groans from him while his hand traveled from her waist to her ass and kneading it with his hands as she began to grind into him at a torturous pace. Josh was getting rapidly hard underneath her, and he could feel through the thin material of her dress pants rubbing on him that she was getting turned on as well. Sensing that they were enveloped in the heat of the moment Joshua pulled away, his hands still resting firmly on her ass while hers were still entangled in his hair. “Are you sure about this, Y/N? Because if we do this…”

“What, there’s no going back? We’re past that point now. I want this, I want you, I need you. Please, Josh, I want you to touch me.”

Josh sat up almost too fast, earning a gasp from Y/N and making her giggle into his neck as he lifted the two of them up and carried her to his bedroom. He gently laid her on his bed and crawled on top of her, kissing her softly before trailing his lips down her jaw and to her neck. He licked and sucked on the sensitive skin before finding the spot just below her right ear, where her soft moans she had before began growing louder. He had found her sweet spot, and he was going to make sure he marked it as his. Josh alternated between sucking and biting on the sensitive area until a bruise began forming at the surface. Admiring his work he nipped at Y/N’s ear and began whispering sweet nothings to her. Josh’s words and the feeling of his breath on her neck sent chills down her spine, and even more, her core to grow wetter by the second. She inadvertently bucked her hips at this, causing her to brush his hardening cock through his shorts.

“Relax mamas, Imma take good care of you,” he hissed, “just wanna admire you first.” Y/N lets out a breathy moan at this, while trying to fight every urge within her to not flip them over and take him right now. Sensing how needy she is for him Josh removes her shirt and unclasps her bra, leaving him in awe of the topless woman before him. Y/N, feeling his intense gaze on her, tries to cover herself with her arms but Josh immediately pins them above her head. “Never ever cover yourself in front of me, you understand baby? You’re too beautiful to hide yourself like that.” Y/N tries to nod in response but is immediately stopped by Josh wrapping his lips around her nipple, sucking and biting on it as Y/N throws her head back and tangles her fingers in his hair yet again. He alternates between each one, giving the same amount of attention to both and making Y/N’s head spin with pleasure. Josh is taking his time with her, and she is enjoying every second. He then trails kisses down her abdomen and makes his way to where she needs him most, wasting no time in removing her bottoms and coming face to face with Y/N’s pretty pussy glistening before him, because of him. “Oh poor baby, you’re soaked. Who made you this wet, hmm?” Y/N moans in response, and Josh lightly smacks her thigh. “Answer me, baby. Who did this?” Josh teases, knowing damn well he’s the reason why, but wanting it to come straight from Y/N’s mouth. “Y-you did, Josh. Please baby, do someth- oh fuck,” Y/N’s pleas are cut short by Josh licking a stripe through her folds, collecting some of her wetness on his tongue. “Mmm.. you taste so sweet, baby, you wanna try?” Josh trails two fingers along her pussy, gathering more of her juices before reaching them to her. Y/N doesn’t hesitate to wrap her lips around his fingers and suck her juices off of them, moaning around them as she does so. Josh groans as her cheeks hollow around his digits, feeling his cock harden at the imagination of her mouth around him. He focuses on her clit and continues to guide his tongue in ways Y/N has never experienced before, feeling that feeling in her stomach growing stronger with each flick of his tongue. She frees his fingers from her mouth and starts chanting his praises, as if she were worshiping the way he’s eating her pussy. His name falls from her lips like he’s her god, and her reaction to him only fuels him more. He inserts his tongue into her pussy, fucking her with his tongue and driving her wild.

“Josh, please, don’t stop baby- oh fuck,” she whines as he adds a finger with his tongue and speeds up his movements, tongue and finger fucking her at a torturous yet unrelenting pace. Her pussy clenches around him, he knows she’s close, and he’s not stopping until his face is drenched in her cum. With his free hand he takes his thumb and rubs circles into her clit, the sensation causing her to arch her back off of the mattress and her thighs to tighten around his head. Before she can warn him the pressure in her stomach explodes, her vision turns white, and she’s shaking and moaning his name as she cums violently around his tongue. Josh had never seen a sight more beautiful than the way Y/N’s body reacts as she’s completely letting go. He wanted to capture that moment in his mind forever, and he wanted to do it again and again. Y/N slowly regained herself, catching her breath and beginning to relax her muscles while Josh licked every last drop of her up like his life depended on it. She shuddered at this, still sensitive from his work on her. After he was sure he had gotten every single drop of Y/N’s essence cleaned up, he proceeded to remove his shorts exposing his long, hard cock. Y/N admired the man before her in all of his glory, instinctively licking her lips as she attempted to sit up and return the favor. “Not tonight, mamas,” Josh cooed, “Tonight’s all about you. Gonna show you how much I love you, baby.” With this his lips found hers, but this time it was different. Something had changed between the two. This was no longer desperation, it was passion. Love. Josh used this moment of kissing her to tease her with his cock, rubbing himself along her pussy, before stopping at her entrance. They broke the kiss; foreheads touching, breathless, and staring longingly into each other's eyes. “No turning back now, right?” “Never,” Y/N whispered as he eased himself into her. The feeling of him stretching her pussy as he slipped inside, the way her walls fluttered and tightened around him and he pushed himself deeper, was unlike anything Josh or Y/N had ever felt before. It’s like they were made for each other, how he fit so perfectly inside of her was something you could only dream of. A series of moans were sung by them both as Josh’s cock completely bottomed out inside of her. After giving them both a second to adjust, he slowly eased his way in and out. Pulling out enough to leave just the tip inside, then all the way back in. Over, and over, and over, and over. Y/N’s hands traveled to Josh’s back and began digging her nails into skin as she threw her head back in ecstasy. Josh’s face found the crook of her neck and peppered kisses along the skin as he continued to make love to her.

“Fuck Y/N, so tight f’me. Feels so good wrapped around me, baby.” His thrusts picked up tempo, but not too fast. Josh wanted to savor this moment; he wanted to live in this feeling of him stretching her out forever, but he also knew it was taking everything he had to hold in his urge to cum on the spot. But his need for her to cum around him right as he was emptying himself into her motivated him into holding on just a little bit longer. He bucked his hips up into her sharply and Y/N arched her back and moaned his name loudly as her nails dragged down his back. Knowing he had now found her spot, he wasted no time in hitting it with every single thrust. Y/N could barely contain herself- she was a mess underneath him. She couldn't utter anything other than Josh’s name, and hearing it only drew him closer to the edge along with her. “I never want to hear you doubt yourself ever again mamas, you understand me?” He grunted in her ear, “You deserve the world baby, and I’m gonna give it to you. You’re mine now, understand?” “Fuck yes, I’m yours baby. I’m yours. Josh, I-”

“I know, I know, I’m close too princess. Cum with me, I gotchu.”

Y/N lets go more viciously than the last, and the tightening of her pussy as she cums around him is enough to have Josh moaning her name in her ear as he fills her with his cum, still moving his hips as he fucks his seed into her. Y/N is still riding the high of her orgasm, whimpering with every thrust he makes. On his way down from his, he slows his movements inside her and rests his forehead against hers. They’re both dripping in sweat, but none of that matters as they lock eyes and catch their breath. It’s silent, but a comfortable silence.

Josh pulls out of her and Y/N sighs, feeling empty without him inside of her as he lies down next to her and pulls her into his arms and both close their eyes. Whatever fallout happens from the events of today will have to wait until tomorrow, right now all that matters is them. Both realize the gravity of this moment, both know their friendship just changed forever, and both know that there’s no going back now.

And that’s perfectly okay with them.

#jey uso #jey uso smut #jey uso imagine #jey uso fic #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x you #jey uso x reader #jey uso x y/n #main event jey uso #wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #wwe imagine #wwe smut

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guppybibi · 2 days ago

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Tattoo artist!Johnny who had already met you a year ago when you made an impulsive decision of getting a tattoo with your current boyfriend's name.

This was nothing new for Johnny having seen this numerous times before, in both men and women, and he knows they'll come crawling back to get them covered up after a nasty breakup. It's been a running game in the shop, all of the workers betting their money on how long it'll take before the customer comes back to cover up the tattoo.

Nothing new, right? Then why was Johnny so surprised when he saw you walk into the shop, the door chimes ringing when you swing the door open to reveal you. Eyes still red and puffy while you sniffled, not doing a very good job on hiding the fact you had been crying. His coworkers shot him a knowing look, recalling the bet from last year.

"Pretty thing, ain't she?" One of Johnny's coworkers commented, looking at the back of your figure as you stepped out of the shop with a huge grin on your face. Probably excited to show the tattoo of your boyfriend's name to him.

"Yeah, too bad she's taken. Lucky man better be treatin' her right." Johnny remarks, noticing the look he was given. "Not for long, I bet. I'm giving them a year max." Johnny blinks once, then again. "Fine, I'm giving them five years." Of course, his coworker was pretty shocked from that. Out of all the people they've bet on, this was probably the longest bet Johnny had ever put.

"Seriously? Don't ya think that's too long?" His coworker asks skeptically, raising a brow at Johnny. "Aye, the gal is lovely. If her boyfriend drops her then that's like committing a war crime." Well, his coworker couldn't really disagree with him on that.

Johnny shoots his coworker a glare that simply said he had more important matters to attend to. Luckily, Johnny was a charmer so cooing a birdie like you into comfort shouldn't be that hard, right?

I mean, it's a break up, not exactly the end of the world here. Plus, you're a gorgeous gal, plenty of fish out there you could probably catch in less than an hour.

"Morning, lass! Welcome back, I see that you've got a little problem, huh?" He points out, seeing you nod subtly. "Alright, I'm assuming it's a cover up for the tattoo you got done a year ago?"

He clearly wasn't surprised when you nodded, having seen this too many times before. He wrote down some stuff, not caring about the paperwork much..before leading you further into the parlor.

The two of you discussed how you wanted the previous tattoo to get covered up, Johnny nudging in to suggest some stylistic choices a few times, which you gladly didn't mind.

Then began the process once you agreed with the design choice, you wanted to get this over with. To remove a past mistake from your life.

Johnny cleansed your skin, disinfecting it with a cold gel. He could see you squirming and struggling not to make a sound. He also does notice another tattoo covered up above your previous tattoo, curiosity swirling around in his mind now.

He tried hushing it, it wasn't any of his business. He's here to do his job, nothing else.

He was quiet for most of the process, aside from some rather awkward small talk about the weather and a few details of what happened between you and your boyfriend. Not that it helped, it really just made Johnny even more curious.

And finally, after who knows how long, the tattoo was covered up now! You seemed to have gotten rid of the nerves from earlier, looking a lot more calmer now.

"Alright, lass. I'm sure y'know how the caring process goes so I'll leave it up to ye." He said, cleaning up all his materials in a snap. He gives in to his curiosity, finding the courage in him to ask you about the other covered up tattoo.

"Uh..before you go lass, mind if I ask ye somethin'? It's about the other tattoo you got 'ere.." You immediately knew which one he was referring to, face reddening in embarrassment as you recalled the immature decision..

"Aah..sure, go ahead." You replied awkwardly, a sheepish smile gracing your face. "Thanks, lass. Mind if ye tell me what was written on there? I- I just noticed that the way it was covered up. The artist did a great job, I'm jealous."

Yeah okay he was just making excuses to get things flowing..never mind that.

"Oo..oh! I don't mind at all, don't worry. That's all in the past..can't really reverse it, you know? It was my ex-boyfriend's name." You answer, shrugging it off. Seems like you were the type of gal to move on from a relationship quick.

"I see, glad you were willing to share that. I wonder if I know who he is." He chuckles, evidently not expecting you to actually tell him who it was. Sure, Johnny was the type to encourage people to loosen up and get comfortable. But..maybe not to this extent.

"His name was Simon, Simon Riley—" And practically everything you said after that was unheard of.

Looks like Johnny needs to pay Simon a visit at the pub tonight.

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autumnscribbles · 24 hours ago

Text

the one | drew starkey

pairing: drew x married!reader

summary: drew had a thing for you for as long as he could remember. coming back home, he faces a sad and scary truth

warnings: abuse (emotional, physical),swearing, I guess emotional “cheating”?

wc: 3k

a/n: thank you to the anon that sent this in!! it’s my first drew imagine so i hope yall like it!! i had a lot of fun writing it

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

You stood around a table with your friends, your husband beside you with his arm wrapped snuggly around your waist. You laughed as your friend recounted a story from your childhood. It had everyone with their heads thrown back, drinks threatening to tip out of their glasses in hand.

“Y/n, you and Drew were the absolute funniest,” she gasped through her cackles.

You signed in content, fondly thinking back to your friend. You had lost contact with Drew since he was casted in Outer Banks. He hadn’t seemed to really keep up with anyone from his hometown. You weren’t even sure if he knew you were married to Derek, one of his best friends. Or you suppose, old best friends.

Shortly after Drew left, you and Derek became close. Bonding over missing Drew’s presence, the two of you started hanging out with each other. He was everything you hoped. Handsome, charming, showering you with compliments or gifts. He proposed to you, and it wasn’t long before the two of you said I do.

As your husband’s grip tightened around your waist, you couldn’t stop thinking about Drew. You always thought of him as your first real love, even though nothing happened between you. You would always have a soft spot for him, even if it wasn’t reciprocated. You always assumed you’d end up with him, and had spent countless days daydreaming of marrying him. He made his stance clear when he left. At first, he would text you and update you, but that faded. You were lucky if he even saw an instagram story you posted. He had moved on, so you did too.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

Drew stepped into the local cafe, his suitcase dragging behind him. He couldn’t come home without his first stop being to acquire his favorite coffee. He began walking up to the counter before something caught his eye. You were sitting in the corner booth, as always, iced latte in front of you and your nose in a book. Drew couldn’t help but grin, acknowledging the way your brows slightly furrowed. He knew you were at a good part of the book.

His mind took him back to countless days spent hunched over that very same table. Crunching for exams with notes spread all over the table. You used to always slam your hand down, telling him to focus. You never knew he wasn’t focusing because he couldn’t stop looking at you.

“Y/n?” he called gently as he approached your table.

You looked up, pulled out of your imaginary world and gasped. You almost screamed at the sight of your old friend in front of you. You stood up immediately, wrapping your arms tightly around him. You breathed in his familiar scent, fuelling you with nostalgia.

“Drew,” you breathed, staring into his blue eyes with your hands on his arms. “You’re home.”

“Yeah, I had some time off,” he explained. “I’m happy to see you.”

You invited him to sit, placing you bookmark and closing your book. He had your full attention. He felt breathless seeing you in person again. You looked different, yet the same. He noticed something glint on the table and lowered his gaze. He saw the ring on your finger.

“You got married?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah,” you answered, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “To Derek, actually.”

Drew felt his heart sink. Derek was his best friend. Their whole life Derek knew the feelings Drew had for you. Derek was constantly telling him that you didn’t feel the same way, you liked someone else, he heard someone say you were seeing someone. Was it all a lie? Did he like you all along?

“I wasn’t invited?” Drew asked playfully, but was actually serious.

“We didn’t do a ceremony,” you explained. “He wanted to just elope, skip the other extravagance.”

He could hear the slight lilt in your voice as you said that. Drew knew for a fact you had been dreaming about your wedding day since you were little. You eloped? With no one to see? He just couldn’t picture it. With Derek of all people?

“You’d be in the loop if you came around more,” you muttered. “Or called every now and then.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Drew sighed, filled with guilt. His best friend got married and he had no idea. “I think I just got so caught up in everything. It all moves so fast it’s hard to keep up. I’ve been thinking a lot about you, about home.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “That was mean of me, you don’t need to explain.”

Drew went to keep apologizing, but another familiar face burst through the door. Derek strode over to your table, suit jacket perfectly ironed.

“Drew, babe, hey,” he said through a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Drew stood up and gave Derek a hug. Derek’s eyes stayed on you, darkening slightly. He was being nice to Drew, but you knew something was wrong.

“Y/n, you didn’t tell me you were hanging out with him,” Derek mentioned pleasantly.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting him,” you laughed. “He walked in and we just started chatting.”

“Well, we have to get home,” he said sharply. “Peter and his wife are coming for dinner, remember?”

“Of course I remember,” you laughed. “Drew, do you want to join us tonight?”

“I’d love to,” he smiled.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

The door slammed behind you as you walked in the front door of your house. You jumped slightly, turning to meet Derek’s eyes.

“Why are you sneaking around with him?” he sneered.

“He, is our friend. Your best friend, remember? I’m sick of you always accusing me of things,” you shot back.

“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t act like a slut all the time.”

You froze. The words sunk into your skin. Worked through your veins. Slut. Derek had been on edge lately. Easier to set off. You noticed him snapping at you more often. Calling you names, telling you what to do. He was just stressed. That had to be all it was, right?

You silently walked towards the kitchen, being jolted back when his hand tightly grabbed your wrist, him telling you to look at him when he speaks. He yanked you back, slamming you into the wall behind you. You winced, pain shooting through your head.

“Y/n,” he whispered. “I-I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again I-I don’t know what happened.”

You felt the tears stinging the back of your eyes. The back of your throat burning. The back of your head throbbing.

“I’m gonna go start dinner,” you mumbled, and this time, he let go of you.

“I’ll go grab the wine,” he said, leaving the house with a quiet shut of the door.

You stood silently in your newly renovated kitchen. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but never did. You didn’t know how to react. Derek had been so perfect. You stood wondering what happened. How you got here. It was just a mistake, right? It had to be.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

You put on a brave face as you set the table. The flowers Derek brought home for you set in the centre, with the expensive bottles of wine on either side. He apologized profusely, and you decided to let it go. You wanted to have a good night. You couldn’t let one spat ruin your night, or your marriage, could you?

Derek had never liked you hanging out with other guys. Honestly, he usually didn’t like you hanging out with other people in general. He always told you that he was the only one who would ever truly be there for you. Maybe he was right. Maybe you should have thought of him more. He always said you were too selfish, and maybe it was true.

Your friends slowly arrived, Drew following shortly after your other friends. He reached in for a hug, and you felt Derek’s eyes burning a hole in your back. You settled for a side hug, not wanting to be rude. You were a wife now, you had to behave like one.

Drew sat down next to you, and as you poured a glass of wine and took your first sip, you felt yourself unwinding a little. The conversation flowed easily, Derek’s hand never leaving your body. Whether it was your thigh, hand, arm, he was always touching you. You noticed when you talked to Drew, his grip got a bit tighter. Each time, you took a big gulp of your wine, trying to forget the events of the day.

Drew noticed as you flinched slightly, Derek’s hand on your arm. He whispered in your ear as you both stood up to leave the room, politely excusing yourselves. He stayed silent, knowing it wasn’t his business. You weren’t his, you never would be now.

Drew fell into conversation with the other couple, not knowing that in the next room you were being called a drunk by your husband, and told you were embarrassing.

“I’m worried about her.” He heard your friend, Belle, mumble into her husbands ear.

“About y/n?” he spoke up. He didn’t want to interrupt their conversation, but he had been gone for so long. He didn’t know anything that was happening in your life.

Belle nodded, looking over her shoulder to make sure everyone else was out of earshot.

“She’s just so different since marrying him,” she whispered. “She’s gotten so…small almost. Making herself small. She seems almost scared to set him off. She never hangs out anymore without him because he won’t let her. I don’t want to accuse him of anything, but I’m worried she’s being ab-”

She was cut off by you and Derek entering the room and taking your seats again. Abused? Was she about to say abused? No way. That couldn’t be. He knew Derek, didn’t he? If you were being hurt, he’d know, wouldn’t he?

The rest of the night Drew’s eyes stayed on you. He noticed small things, like how you nodded obediently to Derek. How Derek made sly remarks about your dress, or a mistake with the cooking. Could what Belle was saying be true?

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

You shut the door softly behind your last guest. Derek was on you immediately.

“You’re an embarrassment,” he scoffed. “Basically throwing yourself at him in front of me. You look like a drunk, and a mess.”

“Leave me alone, Derek,” you sighed. “I can’t do this anymore tonight.”

Before you could register what happened, a sharp pain hit your cheek, a loud crash around you. You clutched your face, the smell of red wine filling your nostrils. He threw the bottle at you. You felt something sharp in your face, pulling out the shard of glass lodged in there.

“Don’t talk back to me,” he screamed, making you jump back.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you whispered as you stepped out the front door. He needed a second to calm down, and you needed a second to process.

After a few deep breaths, you placed your hand back on the door handle, only to find it locked. He locked you out. You banged on the door, screaming his name and telling him to open the door.

��You can sleep on the street for all I care,” he yelled through the door. “I can’t look at your whore face anymore.”

You continued to bang on the door, tears streaming down your face for the first time since everything happened. You saw his shadow retreat, all the lights shut off. You were left alone in the dark. No phone, no keys, no shoes. He couldn’t leave you out here all night, could he?

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

Drew felt his pockets for his phone, to no prevail. He must have forgotten it at your place. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Belle said. Was she actually about to say abuse?

He shook it off briefly as he climbed back into the rental car, making his way back to your house. He hoped you would still answer the door. As he turned onto your street, he saw a girl walking. More like limping. She had no shoes on. He slowed down slightly, slamming the brakes as soon as his headlights revealed who it was.

“Y/n!” he panicked as he jumped out of the car, running up to you. “Are you okay? What happened? You’re bleeding.”

It felt like he was talking a mile a minute, unable to slow down.

“C-can I stay with you tonight?” you stuttered between sobs.

“Of course you can,” Drew whispered as his thumb swiped a stray tear away. “Come, get in the car.”

He opened the door for you and helped you in, rushing back to the drivers side. He didn’t care about his phone anymore. The only thing that mattered was you.

You say in silence as he drove, pulling into the driveway soon after. He helped you out of the car and into the house. He walked you to the bathroom, turning the light on to examine the cut on your cheek.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled.

“You’re hurt,” Drew said, tears prickling his eyes. He cleaned the wound gently, his warm hands treating you so tenderly.

“He…” you breathed. “He threw a bottle at me, then locked me outside.”

Drew’s jaw clenched as he tried to stay calm. It wouldn’t help if he got angry or freaked out. He wanted you to feel comfortable, despite all the thoughts and emotions running through him.

You didn’t say anything else for a while. Drew gave you a t shirt and sweatpants to change into.

“You can have the bed,” he said as he lifted the covers, urging you to climb under. “I’ll go on the couch. If you want to talk I’m here, okay?”

He turned to leave the room, but you stopped him.

“Drew?” you called, your voice barely audible. “Can you lie with me for a bit?”

He felt his heart jump as he walked to the bed, sitting on the edge for a minute before lying back beside you. He stayed on top of the covers, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. His mind spun with guilt. He never should have left you, or fallen out of touch. If he had been here to see the signs, he could have helped you. He could have stopped it. He couldn’t fathom his, now former, best friend hurting the girl he loved.

You lay there silently until you broke. Violent sobs shook your body. You felt Drew’s arms pull you close as you cried. He rubbed your back, assuring you that you were safe. He had you. When the tears finally somewhat relented, you spoke.

“He hurt me earlier today too,” you said. “After the cafe. He called me a slut and slammed me against the wall.”

Drew’s breath hitched in his throat. He couldn’t bear to hear that this happened to you. He couldn’t even speak.

“How did I get here? I thought I was better than this. That I’d never put up with this,” you ranted. “I should have seen the signs, should have done something sooner. I just wanted someone to love me.”

“That’s not love, y/n,” Drew told you.

“I know,” you sighed. “I shouldn’t have married him. He made all these promises. When you left he…he told me you didn’t care. That he was the only one who would ever be there for me. I stupidly believed him. Who else would marry me?”

“Of course I care,” Drew choked, tears burning his eyes. “It hurt too much for me to be close to you. It was selfish and stupid, but I couldn’t bear it knowing you didn’t…love me back.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he quickly interjected. “I shouldn’t be talking about myself. I should have been here for you. I should have helped you.”

You knew you were technically married, but you hung on Drew’s words. Love him back? He loved you? That’s all you ever wanted to hear.

“What do you mean…didn’t love you back?” you asked.

“Derek…” he paused after his name, like it burned leaving his lips. “Told me you never saw me that way. That he was better for you and you wanted him. It hurt me too much.”

“Drew..” you breathed.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he reassured you.

“Drew,” you repeated. “I’ve been in love with you since what feels like the moment I saw you. You were the one I always thought I would be with. When he told me you didn’t see me that way, I just wanted someone to care.”

Your words left Drew speechless. This whole time, Derek was playing both sides. The whole time, you could have been with him instead. You were manipulated and hurt, and it was his fault. He was a coward.

“Why are you crying?” you asked, cupping his cheek with your palm.

“I’m so sorry,” he cried. “I’m sorry I left you.”

“I can’t stay in that marriage Drew,” you sighed. “Especially not now. I shouldn’t have done it when my heart belonged to someone else.”

“Are you saying…”

“I love you,” you whispered. You head lay on his chest, and you felt his heartbeat speed up.

“I love you,” he replied. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

After sitting in silence for a while, you let out a yawn. He wanted to kiss you, but not like this. Not with you so vulnerable. It wouldn’t feel right.

“Get some sleep, angel,” he said, kissing your forehead gently. “I’ll be here in the morning to figure out the rest.”

You had no idea what to do, or where to go from here. Your mind was reeling, but now you were crashing from all the stress on your body. Whatever tomorrow brought, you would be okay. When you woke up, Drew would still be here. As long as he was here, it would be okay. It had to.

#drew starkey #drew starkey fic #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #obx

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viiioca · 9 hours ago

Text

[ roevember day 5 - stargazing ]

Meteion is certainly a little marvel, is she not? An "entelechy," as Hermes called her -- a creature whose very nature is to connect to some specific energy frequency with fantastic sensitivity and precision, and then translate the information stored there. She is to this "dynamis" what the Echo seems to be to aether; if Krile's gift is to sense thoughts and feelings through said aether, and it is indeed an immutable property of the soul she has inherited, then it stands to reason that its current Unsundered owner would be possessed of an ability not too dissimilar from Meteion's, and yet. Unlike an Ancient's soul, this is a feature that can be created at will and then replicated. The capacity to connect to anyone and anything packaged in the shape of a little girl, arranged into a tidy blueprint, to be produced at any scale? A very finely crafted instrument indeed. Based on Hermes' artful dodging, she does not need a soul to accomplish this as the Echo does. No, he did not even see the need to equip her with irrelevant functions, like a gustatory system, or digestion. To have her own experiences -- her own thoughts, her own feelings -- would add noise to the data, would it not? And make no mistake: attuned to the value of life as he is, Hermes did not make this little creature for any reason but a purpose.

And what a purpose it is. For all his frustration with his own people, what he has accomplished here is inextricable from them: in this beautiful world where conflict is the domain of beastly, lesser life, where such bleak ideas as war and famine and plague are thought exercises meant for the halls of rhetoric, Hermes would not have even begun to imagine the universe as an inherently ugly and random place. He would not have had the benefit of firsthand accounts of those from distant stars who have traveled that long, cold black; he could not have met Midgardsormr or Omega and seen the cost of that journey, the price of that war. It has not happened yet. No -- like any pitiable mortal, his only point of reference is the immediate. Mortality is an injustice inflicted on those with less power by those with more. Hunger as a driver of violence among mankind is a fiction; abundance is a fact. The creation of Meteion is an act of relentless optimism by a man attempting to expand his understanding of the universe, who does not believe that the truth could be any worse than the truth of the world right here, right now. How terrible could it possibly be?

I asked Meteion just how many sisters she had out there traveling the Sea of Stars, wandering that lonely nothing between those brief islands of life, with no comfort afforded them save what they can taste secondhand.

Hundreds, she said.

#ffxiv #my wol: estelle #roegadyn #roevemberxiv #roevemberxiv2024 #my writing #endwalker spoilers #estelle had a great time in elpis as did everyone #very good fun time had by all #i like to think her general disposition toward hermes is almost entirely inherited #her azem was great friends with hermes! they had so much in common! a united front of eccentric weirdos alienated by ancient society #until she found out what he did 🙃#woe 11000 year old grudge be upon you

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papaya-twinks · 12 hours ago

Text

me? forget - l.n 🎈

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

“Morning, baby,” Lando smiled, walking into the kitchen behind you, his torso bare as he huffed you from behind. You could feel his chest pressed to your back, his arms round your waist, fingers sliding over your bra, his curls tickling your jaw as he held you to his body.

“Extra affectionate today,” you said, giggling as he pressed a warm kiss to your shoulder, his fingers dipping under the waistband of your panties. “Mmm, can’t help it,” he mumbled, “you look hot in this,” he tugged on the white shirt you had on, unbuttoned.

“Mhm,” you hummed, ducking under his arm to continue making your tea, tying your hair into a messy bun as you worked. “Should I get, like, snacks for upstairs?” Lando smiled, flashing you his goofy grin as you raised a brow, blinking in confusion.

“Why’s that?” you asked, turning your attention back to your tea cup, missing the way his smile fell slightly. “Y’know, we’re gonna stay home and cuddle and…stuff,” he shrugged, walking back to you to kiss your neck, only to have you duck under his arm once more.

“No we’re not,” you frowned, “I have some stuff to do,” you said, grabbing your car keys from the dish on the side. “Oh…okay,” Lando said, forcing a smile onto his face as he watched you leave, going up the stairs, a frown on his face. Had he done something wrong?

You’d never forgotten his birthday, or your anniversary or anything like that, has he done something? Had he forgotten yours or something? Lando stayed upstairs, not even bothering to come down when he heard your car rolling into the driveway, thinking to himself.

“Hey Lando,” you smiled, walking into the room as you placed your bags down, met with nothing but a half-hearted grunt and an incoherent mumble. “Enjoy the shops?” he finally said, not lookin up from his phone. “It was…just a shopping trip, nothing to enjoy,” you frowned.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, turning on his side, his back facing you as you sighed. “Can you go out and grab me some snacks?” you asked, “I’m feeling a bit sick of driving, cramps and stuff,” you lied as he rolled his eyes, shrugging and standing up.

“I guess,” he mumbled, grabbing the keys and leaving. Perfect. As soon as he left, Carlos, Max F and a bunch of his other friends crept in, as you’d gone to pick them up instead of going to the shops, a bright grin on your face.

“God, you look happy,” Max said, nudging you as you followed them into the house, grabbing all the balloons from whet your stuffed them into the closet. “How can I not be?” you said, dumping a bunch of balloons around the place, turning some lights to purple.

“He was kinda, like, pissed at me, I think,” you said, half-grimacing as Carlos helped you hang up some decorations, Max working on wheeling out the three-tier cake onto the middle of the table. “Coz of the whole ‘forgetting his birthday’ thing?” the Spaniard asked as you nodded.

“Maybe a surprise party wasn’t such a good idea,” you said, chewing on your lip as Max sighed. “There’s not much we can do now,” Carlos said, “it’s happened now, so we might as well make it special for him, no?”. He was right, now all you had to do was wait for Lando to come back.

“Surprise!” you all cheered as Lando walked into the too, looking bewildered as he walked into the room, weakly clutching his bag before he blinked a few times, his eyes widening.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” he immediately went to you, all his earlier coldness forgotten as he dumped the bag in the couch. Max and Carlos popped some confetti things as you grinned, slinging your arms round his neck as he blinked at you, confused. “I-I thought you…forgot my birthday, I-,” Lando rambled, a smile sliding onto his face.

“Bullshit, like I’d forget your birthday,” you said, squeezing his side as he pushed your hand away, a smile on his face as he kissed your jaw. “Knew it wasn’t like you,” he said, his cheeks tinged slightly pink as he swayed on the spot, watching his friends parade around in celebration for his birthday.

“I fucking hate you,” he said, watching in awe as Max lifted the knife, handing it to Lando to cut the cake. “God, I love you,” he said, pulling your hand onto his as he cut the cake, the slice falling perfectly onto a paper plate. “I love you,” he said again, kissing you once more.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris x you #f1 #lando norris smut

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yan-randomfandom · 16 hours ago

Note

yandere viktor with an innocent and naive reader but with magical abilities, where the reader knows how to use simple magic like conjuring plants or controlling water... ((the reader only knows the basics of magic, since no one taught it and this magic would be the only one so far who knows how to do it, and the reader was a little scared of being in a rush or being studied like a lab rat because she has magic, but she confided her secret to Viktor...)) Why do you do that?

Y!Viktor x GN!Mage!Reader

a/n: posting this before act 2 omg, i think i need a rewatch — btw this one only has very light yandere undertones,, ..erm

💦 ;

"Psst. Hey, want to know a secret?"

Viktor blinked. His eyes followed the moving reflection on the iridescent river. Your figure was mirrored in the water, an unreadable expression on your face.

... He looked up, alarmed. Were you talking to him? Viktor didn't even know you.

You met his amber eyes. For whatever reason, on the edge of the cliff just above the water, you folded your legs against your chest and buried half your face in your arms.

"Well?" you pushed, voice muffled.

His mouth opened, then closed. Viktor nodded wordlessly instead.

" ... Promise me you won't tell anyone."

Without a moment's hesitation, the young boy nodded again.

He watched as you stood up and jumped steadily into the river, splashing him and his mechanical boat. A low, frustrated groan escaped him as water seeped into his clothes.

"Oh, sorry," you said as he tried to wipe the water from his face. "Let me get that for you."

Suddenly, Viktor felt his weight gradually become less unpleasant—almost refreshing, even, as if the water slid across and away from his skin and clothes.

That's when he saw it.

A small blob of water, floating in the air. It moved carefully like it was fragile.

Then came another, and another. Small specks came together until it formed one single bubble.

Abruptly, it dropped in the river. Like nothing ever happened. Viktor's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Cool, right?" you grinned. He looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, his jaw gaping. One of your hands was lifted, fingers poised in a manner of delicacy.

"You," Viktor finally spoke, stammering, his breathing ragged. "You did that? Was that... magic?"

You chuckled, settling yourself beside him. He turned to you, scooting over to make room, and met your steady gaze. “I think so. But I was serious when I said never, ever tell anyone.”

He shook his head, utterly appalled. "Is this some sort of trick?"

"I wish—"

“This is not funny,” he snarled, his demeanor shifting completely, catching you off guard. “If you’re just here to get a reaction out of me, I’d advise you and your friends to leave. Please.”

You frowned, standing up with your fists clenched. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m so sorry! And I don’t… even have friends.”

Viktor searched your face.

There's nothing to suggest a lie. He's observant, and he quietly prides himself over it, but this is one of the few cases where he genuinely starts to doubt his judgment.

"But," you sighed, turning away. "I'll leave if that's what you want. Apologies."

...

"... Wait."

— 🫧

The leaves of the seedling barely moved.

"Aw," you chuckled, dropping your arm to your side. Who knew conjuring plant powers could be so draining? "Well, I tried. Let's take a break!"

He let out a choked noise, pausing his writing. "We barely started! How is it that whenever you get to try something new and amazing, you avoid it?”

...

You didn't respond immediately.

Viktor put down his notebook, looking back at you, who was blankly staring at him.

"I guess I'm... scared?" you said, tilting your head. To his surprise, you gently grabbed his hand, running your thumb across his palm.

His face warmed. He physically couldn't say or do anything.

"You're the only one who knows about this, Vik," you muttered, your eyes fixed on his rough skin. "I sprung this on you when we were kids, which is kind of hilarious, by the way, but I had a reason. In my mind, you were the only one who would understand."

He thought so, too.

Viktor couldn’t stop himself from slipping his fingers between yours. It was a good thing you weren’t looking at him—otherwise, you might’ve seen how red his face had become.

"And you told me no one will believe me," he said, and while the memory was of you giving him a serious warning, his tone was filled with nothing but endearment.

"I still stand by that," you laughed, pulling your hand away from his, much to his disappointment. You still hadn't glance at his face. He mentally scolded himself for almost hoping you would see his expression. "Especially with our age now. They'll just think you're crazy."

"I understand," he chuckled, turning away. "About that break... you want to go to our usual?"

A smile curled on your lips. "Yes, please!"

— 🌱

Viktor said he has a surprise for you.

Admittedly, you're feeling extremely anxious. He grew up to become a researcher, an inventor—facts that don’t surprise you.

As his best friend, a person able to do magic, while absolutely shitty at it, you know he sees you as someone with massive potential. Literally. No one else in Piltover or Zaun is known to do this. Maybe in a hundred years—who knows? You didn't even have a proper education.

...

Viktor cleared his throat. "I've been offered a position in the University of Piltover."

You froze. The letter in his fingers bore the university’s wax seal in the center, bold and unmistakable.

“Holy shit,” you blurted, your eyes darting between him and the letter. “Holy shit!”

Jumping over to Viktor, you wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. The biggest, most triumphant smile tugged at your lips. He staggered a little, but you were too wrapped up in your happiness to notice.

"Language," he laughed, hugging you back.

You snickered. "I'm so proud of you! Words can't even begin to express how happy I am for you!"

Pulling back, your hands still rested on his shoulders. Your smile relaxed ever so slightly as your eyes gazed into his softer ones.

"I knew you could do it," you exhaled.

A small pause.

Viktor had a look. Oh, shit. What’s that smirk for?

"...You're not done," you accused, raising an eyebrow.

He lifted the letter in his hand. "I have not accepted yet."

Now, your brows knitted together in utter confusion.

"... Why not—?"

"I said I won't be going unless they let me bring a plus one."

You smile faltered, denial crossing your face. He noticed it. Did he just say what you thought you heard him say?

"Are you saying...?" Your expression shifted into disbelief; you didn't quite understand his point.

"I want you to come with me," Viktor said, grabbing your hand and placing the letter in your palm. "To Piltover."

Oh, no. You didn't mean to.

The letter slipped from your hand as you panicked and pulled away.

Viktor felt overwhelmingly worried. He thought you'd be happier about the news.

Then, he looked around.

It had rained just before he decided to share the news. Some raindrops were still fresh, glistening from the downpour.

And around your figure, small droplets rose into the air. You were emotional.

"Viktor. You're not giving me to them, are you...?"

Defeated. That's how your voice sounded.

"Of course not," he hushed, pushing you onto a chair. "Never. Please calm down. Let me explain."

You obliged, sitting down. He sat beside you.

"I'm sorry," you spoke first, meeting his eyes. "It's not that I don't trust you. Heck, I trust you more than anyone. The thought of going up there... it just makes me anxious."

"I understand," Viktor nodded. He turned his head. "However, I promise you, I won’t let them take you away from me. You’ll be solely under my care. But I do know someone who’s willing to help us."

Viktor. So compassionate and filled with empathy. You admired him for those very reasons, not just for his brilliance. His presence feels like a whole other world to you—someone who could help you understand your abilities. Perhaps the only chance you have to truly learn who, or what you are.

"I'll be a burden."

"No. Of course not. I want you by my side."

You hesitated. Despite your family being clueless about your ability, they were still the people you cared for. You still had a life in the undercity.

"And if I refuse...?"

Viktor took a moment to respond. The thought of leaving you hurt his heart.

"You... I believe you don't have much of a choice."

You couldn't explain why, but you found it in yourself to wholeheartedly believe him.

— 💌

zamn

critique is welcome btw

#yan writes #yandere arcane #viktor arcane #yandere #yandere arcane x reader #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #yandere viktor x reader

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inthesleepydunes · 2 days ago

Text

Clean - Frankie Morales x f!reader

Author’s note: I am sooooo nervous to post this but I thought I’d try writing something to celebrate that I am one month sober. A lot of the stuff in this fic is based on my personal experience (and also based on Clean by Taylor Swift!) So I just ask that you please be kind since I’m still pretty new to writing and since it’s so personal. Big ups to @evolnoomym and @clawdee for taking the time to listen to me today 🤍🤍🤍

Summary: You recall the highs and lows of your tumultuous relationship with Frankie Morales. WC: 1,072

Content warnings: drinking, drug use, allusions to smut, unhealthy relationship dynamics, angst, half ass editing, all mistakes are my own

Dead flowers. Sitting in a vase you can’t bring yourself to throw away. Picture frames caked in dust. All depicting times when you were happy.

At least that’s what you thought.

When Frankie came into your life, you were immediately enamored with him. He was older, easy on the eyes, and had a soft side. But quickly you were sucked into his world.

Addiction. Crippling addiction.

But you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t fun at times. Some of your favorite memories are drinking and dancing at the bar, sneaking off together to a line in the bathroom. His pupils would be wide, looking at you with a mixture of lust and love. At least you thought it was love.

Frankie was already an affectionate guy, never afraid to subtly let everyone know that you were his. But when he was high he was practically hanging off you. His lips were glued to your neck, trailing up to your jawline. You’d lean back into him as he wrapped his around your waist. You’d close your eyes and listen to the heavy bass of the music. You’d try your hardest to focus on the feeling of his lips on your skin, feeling your cheeks heat up even more than they already work. The bulge in his pants would grow ever so prominent, straining the fabric of his pants.

He’d pull back and spin you around so you were facing him, giving you his famous “let’s get out of here” look. You didn’t need to be told twice.

The walk back to the car was electric, holding each other tight and swaying as you walked. The laughter would ring through the nighttime air, laughing so hard your stomach would hurt.

But there were red flags. So many red flags you missed. So many mistakes you made. Like getting in his truck with him after these nights out. Thankfully nothing bad happened, but looking back on it you couldn’t believe how stupid you’d been.

The second you got inside you were pinned against the wall. His large hand would slide up your skirt and toy with the lacy fabric of your panties.

“Fuck, you don’t know what you to do me,” he groan, placing his hands on the wall by either side of your head.

“Show me then,” you teased.

The next thing you knew you were on the bed, undressed and shivering under the AC. He reached on his nightstand for another dime bag. He sprinkled a line between your tits, closing his eyes and cursing once he was finished. You loved when he did that. You loved when he used you. And the way he fucked you during his high was unforgettable.

But as high as the highs were, the lows hit even harder. What was just a fun thing to do on a night out turned into a crippling addiction, costing him his pilot license. He was jobless, ambitionless, and a true addict. You felt the weight of his addiction slowly consume you but you couldn’t do anything to stop it. Doing drugs took away the pain of what the relationship truly was; unhealthy codependency, a distorted idea of what “love” was. Fuck, he’s so much older than you and you’re the one taking care of him, cleaning his dirty dishes, doing his laundry, supporting his addiction. All while he did nothing to bring himself out of it, all while he slowly brought down with him. The relationship soured faster than milk left in the sun. You were bitter, bickering, and hating life.

It wasn’t until you got caught doing a line in the bathroom at work did things start to change. Your boss was lenient with you. You were a model employee before you met Frankie and you could almost see the pity in your boss’s eyes when he looked at you.

That day you kicked Frankie out and started the journey to becoming clean. Free of the drugs and him. He left that day with tears in his eyes and for a moment you saw a flash of the sweet, sensitive man you fell for. A part of you wanted to take it all back, to forget about what happened at work and let him in again. But the bandaid had already been ripped off.

He slammed the door when he left and a picture frame fell off the wall and broke. It was one of the first pictures you took together. You always looked at it with fond memories. But with the lens you have now all you see are two people shit faced out of their minds.

Ten months after that, he came to you in the middle of the night, knocking on your door like a mad man. Flashbacks of times you kicked him out in a drug induced rage flooded your memory. You crept out of bed and listened to him outside, begging for just a few seconds to talk.

“What do you want?” you said through the door, your hand inching closer to the deadbolt.

“This might be the last time you’ll ever see me again.”

Ugh.

You unlocked the door and cracked it open just enough to look him in the eye. It was raining that night, raindrops peppering his light gray t-shirt.

“What’s wrong now? In trouble with the law again?”

“I’m going to South America for a mission.”

Huh?

“But you’re not—”

“It’s not an official mission.”

“Frankie, I swear to God—”

“I just had to see your face one more time before I go… And I needed to apologize. For everything I put you through, my love.”

Tears sting your eyes but you can’t give in.

“I’m so sorry. I mean it.”

You were at a loss for words. But before you could say anything, he leaned forward and kissed your forehead, whispering a soft “I love you” before disappearing into the night.

You watched him walk back to his truck and drive off while you tried to process the very little information he gave you. It doesn’t even matter. That was classic Frankie, always getting into stupid shit. Whatever he told you (if it even was the truth) sounded like a suicide mission.

You closed the door and glanced at the dead flowers in the vase and the picture frames caked with dust. That night you had the strength to throw them away. That night you were finally clean.

Thank you so much for reading! I still have a lot I want to explore about my old relationship so this might not be the last time we hear from these two. I hope one day I’ll get to say “ten months sober” like Taylor sings in the song 🤍

The beautiful rain divider is by @saradika-graphics

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier

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burningcheese-merchant · 3 days ago

Note

Sooo, I have a thought from an ask i saw about yandere beasts towards the ancients...

What if the Beasts became yandere towards YOU instead?

Although, the Ancients have the same feeling too, which may lead to high tensions in the air.

What would YOU in that scenario?

-A Self-Aware/Yandere lover Anon

Wait, me? Me specifically? Merchant? The person answering this ask? That's certainly an interesting thought...

If the Beasts became yanderes towards me, then I would fucking panic lol. I don't condone this kind of behavior irl, it's fun to write fictional crazy people but nobody wants to endure ACTUAL crazy people. Stalkers are sick and dangerous and need to be put away, and it's a damn shame it's not taken seriously by law enforcement anywhere (not until it escalates to violence, anyway, unfortunately)

With that said, let's terrorize Merchant for a little bit

IF THE BEASTS ARE STILL JUST COOKIES:

Step on them immediately, they're like 3 inches tall wait, would that work? They have powers and are crazy strong. What can they actually do against humans? Would stepping on them just break my fucking foot?

Send my dog after them no wait, I don't want them to hurt my dog. I love my dog very much. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to him. I'd never forgive myself if I let him try to eat them and he just got turned into flour or something

Pour milk on them ONE OF THEM IS MADE OF MILK ALREADY GODDAMN IT

Hide the box of cookies I like to get from the store, because they probably wouldn't appreciate the fact that I love to eat cookies (they're just like this 🍪 but still)

Try to trap them in the fridge momentarily, hope they don't destroy my nice fridge

Make a deal where they are allowed to live in and explore my house provided they damage nothing and hurt no one

Give them head scratches (especially Spice, his head looks Very Scratchable)

Give them tiny little kisses if they behave themselves (however, if I give one a kiss, I have to give them ALL kisses, or else the other 4 will retaliate against me out of jealousy)

I will also allow them to sit on my shoulders if they behave themselves and don't try to yank on my hair or my ears or something

Wait, do cookies know what sex is? Are they capable of sexual feelings? If so, how do they deal with them? Do they have the... equipment for that? WHAT IF THEY TRY TO HUMP MY FINGERS OR SOMETHING OH GOD-

Contact federal authorities and hope that they believe me when I say superpowered talking cookies are in my house, so they can come take them away and perhaps experiment on them

Probably never sleep again because there's a batch of little satanic cookies in my house that all want to fuck me for some reason (I'm ugly and a normie, wtf did I do to deserve this 💀)

IF THE BEASTS ARE HUMAN:

immediate death

panic x10000000000

I hc Spice as being at least 6'5''/198cm and 200+/90+ lbs/kg so I'm cooked 7 ways to Sunday just with him

Seriously I'm just a short nerd irl. Assuming they still have their powers, my life is literally over

Do everything in my power to convince them all my loved ones are dead so they don't go harm them out of jealousy (ESPECIALLY my SO, God have mercy, I'll probably have to tell him to go hide in his home country for a while)

Try to barricade myself in a church, hope that the "demons cannot set foot on hallowed ground/in God's house" rule applies to them, beg God to save my sorry ass while they try to break in and drag me back out

Can't call the cops because A) stalking and harassment are not taken seriously by police, B) they won't believe me when I say that 5 supervillains are trying to kidnap and marry me, C) by the time they realize I'm telling the truth, they will already have been hanged/put into a coma/beheaded/turned to flour/cut up into salt cubes

I actually only like men irl so I am in deep trouble with Flour and Sugar especially

Try to flee the country (probably won't work but I'll try anyway and hope they don't get too mad about it), hide out in the Yukon or some bumfuck nowhere village in Russia, I'd rather face a polar bear than these guys

Probably still be forced to let them live in my house in exchange for peace and obedience

...I don't know if tiny head scratches and kisses would cover it this time

Hope that they're all possessive enough to only harass me one at a time, instead of... more than one at a time, because that counts as sharing and yanderes don't really like doing that

Try to pit them against each other constantly. If they're too focused on arguing about who I belong to or whatever, then they can't focus on tormenting me

Would like to try to stab or shoot them but idk if conventional weaponry works on them at all

If I HAD TO pick one to say yes to, it would be Burning Spice. He is sexy af. Then, hopefully, I can weaponize this and get him to defend me from the others

IF THE ANCIENTS LIKED ME TOO, BUT WERE NORMAL:

Yay, sanity. I'll tell them to PLEASE get the Beasts away from me. They can sort out whatever they feel towards me later, we've got a bigger problem on our hands than that

COOKIES: I will keep them safe in my house under the same conditions as the Beasts: behave and do not harm anyone or anything

HUMANS: Look, can I just... send them back? How did any of these guys get here, anyway? Can I please just shove them back through the portal or whatever they used to get here? Even if I wasn't taken, I don't think I'd have the strength or patience to put up with anyone's shit. Can we just be friends? I'd love to be friends. I need a mom friend like Hollyberry in my life

If necessary, I am picking Dark Cacao. Seriously, I love my big, strong men. Merchant is a basic bitch at heart lol

IF THE ANCIENTS WERE YANDERES TOO:

Are you fucking kidding me

Am still picking Cacao, fuck all of you

#cookie run kingdom #burning spice cookie #golden cheese cookie #shadow milk cookie #silent salt cookie #hollyberry cookie #dark cacao cookie #mystic flour cookie #eternal sugar cookie #white lily cookie #pure vanilla cookie #yandere beasts

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romancecroc · 2 days ago

Text

Lucanis Romance (Pt. 2)

This is an alternative take on finishing his companion quest (confronting Illario after saving Catharina). In this version, the whole "I made paella and your favorite" drink did not happen.

Things have felt different between them. Especially after Spite somehow dragged Rook into Lucanis’s subconscious and helped them align on a goal.

Nothing had really happened before that. Just the occasional lingering glances. Hands brushing against each when nobody could see. Overprotectiveness during battles.

But with all that was going on, it was almost impossible to find quiet moments. To reflect. Or to talk.

And with all her confidence, Rook didn’t dare bring the topic up again. Nor make a move.

But she felt closer to him. Especially after witnessing all his inner troubles, his regrets.

But was that enough? How would you name this? Having feelings for someone, feeling close to them and yet… nothing happening?

What exactly did I want to happen?

The thought caught Rook off guard.

Guilt was starting to build up. They never said they were in a relationship after all. Lucanis didn’t owe her anything.

But at the same time… there was a sense of frustration?

“Rook! Are you listening?” Teia said, waving her hands.

“Ah.” Rook responded, finally snapping out of it.

She was in Trevisio. They were getting ready to save Catharina and set Illario straight.

Teia and Viago were preparing, but Lucanis was nowhere to be seen.

Apparently he would join in later.

“Don’t worry, Lucanis knows the plan. He’ll join you at the mansion. Are you ready to go?” Teia asked again, patting Rook’s shoulder.

“Yes, sorry. We will get Catharina out of the mansion and then we’ll confront Ilario at the gathering.” Rook said, mostly to summarize it for herself.

“What are you going to do with Ilario when all of this is over?”

Teia and Viago chuckled, grabbing their daggers and facing the exit.

“I’m sure our first talon will know what to do.”

And with that, they both vanished.

—

It didn’t take long to sneak through the mansion. The team had initially agreed to only send out Rook and Lucanis - the less attention they attract the better.

But where was he?

Rook noticed one of the hallways having more guards than the others. With a dagger in hand and magic in another, she swiftly took care of them within seconds.

Until she felt a presence behind her.

Instinctively, she elbowed them in the stomach, using the opportunity to turn around and push them against the floor. Her mouth dropped when she was finally hovered above him, her knees digging into his arms, locking him in position.

“Not a bad move, Rook.” Lucanis said, coughing between his words.

“Are you insane? I could have killed you!” Rock angrily whispered, immediately putting her dagger away.

“Please, Rook. I let you tackle me. Why miss out on an opportunity to get overpowered by a beautiful woman? ” he answered, a chuckle between the coughs.

It should have made her happy. The small flirts between them.

But instead, it just reminded her about her own frustrations. The impatient feeling, the guilt.

Without responding, she got up and offered him a hand. Pulling him up.

“Rook?” Lucanis asked, concerned. He had expected a matching response.

“We should focus on the mission.” Rook responded, perhaps a little colder than she intended.

“Where do you think your grandmother is? I already checked the east wing, but no luck so far.”

It felt like he was catching on, but the mission’s urgency kept him from investigating further. Instead he started leading the way, casually sharing childhood memories whenever he saw something familiar.

He hasn’t been home for so long - and yet she couldn’t bring herself to fully enjoy his stories. Once Catharina had been saved and Ilario confronted, Rook would return to the Lighthouse and spend some time alone in her room. Clear her head.

That sounded like a good plan at least.

“She must be here.” Lucanis said, stopping in front of a door not too far from his childhood room.

Rook motioned to get ready, just in case.

Once the door opened, a cane started swinging around aggressively - until Lucanis grabbed it.

“My grandson!” Catharina gasped in disbelief.

Rook stepped away for a bit, not wishing to interrupt their reunion.

“You are mad as us. Why?!” Rook suddenly heard in her head.

Spite??

“Answer! It is…. distracting him!” Spite responded telepathically.

Rook wasn’t sure how Spite was talking to her. Based on how Lucanis was acting, he didn’t seem to be aware of it either.

I’m not mad. I’m just trying to focus.

“Hurt. Longing. Is it loneliness? No. It smells like… disappointment!” Spite continued on.

The last thing Rook wanted was a conversation about her feelings. With Spite. She imagined a mental block around her head - it must have worked because the last thing she heard was a disapproving growl from Spite. And then it was quiet again.

“Thank you, Rook! For returning my grandson.” Catharina said gratefully, looking over to Rook.

“He did half of the work. We should really bring you somewhere safe.” Rook quickly responded, rejoining them.

“Nonsense. Now go and stop Ilario, I won’t be far behind.” Catharina responded, waving her cane around again.

The expression Lucanis made, said enough - there was no way to convince Catharina to change her mind..

—

“You must feel relieved having your grandmother back. Any plans for Ilario?” Rook asked, as they were approaching the gathering.

“I don’t know. But one way or another, he needs to pay.” Lucanis said, approaching the giant door.

One could hear Ilarios' speech from the outside. Monologues about how he was grieving Catharina’s death. How Lucanis was a shame to the family and the crows due to becoming an abomination.

And that he was taking the title of the first talon for himself.

“Whatever happens, I’m with you.” Rook said, preparing herself for battle.

“I know. Let’s finish this.”

And with that, the door was kicked open.

Everything happened so fast.

Ilario didn’t hesitate to attack Lucanis on sight, backed by venatori.

The crows, unsure who to believe, were fumbling around.

But like many other fights, this one was about to end quite fast.

“They will never accept you. You’re an abomination!” Ilarios screamed at Lucanis, almost like a child who wasn’t picked for a group activity. Most of his venatory allies had fallen by now.

“Are you sure you’re not stuck with a demon yourself, Ilario? Even Spite sounds saner than you do right now.” Rook said loudly, currently finishing off remaining venetario on the opposite side of the hall.

Embarrassment was plastered on Ilarios face. The sheer audacity of being compared to a demon. And despite having little backup left, he used whatever remaining blood magic he had to teleport himself past the crows.

“You will pay for this insult!” Illario yelled, appearing in front of Rook with a dagger in hand. Ready to stab her in the chest.

Growing up with the shadow dragons taught her well - especially on how to deal with crazy individuals that were about to stab you. There were different ways to make them stop, even for a few seconds. They just need to believe they won.

So Rook didn’t defend herself. Didn’t use any magic spells.

Instead she positioned herself in a way, so that the dagger would end up between her armpits. Her clothes were already torn at a few places, covered in blood. It would be hard to tell whether she was really hit or not. And a delusional blood mage wouldn’t know the difference either.

To dramatize the moment, Rook let out a terrible cry that melted together with Ilario’s victory laugh.

And multiple people shouting in the background?

Rook couldn’t focus too much on it, as she was busy taking a few steps back. Holding the dagger close, while she fell on her knees. And then to her sides, closing her eyes.

“Let this be a lesson for anybody who insults Ilario-”

The sound of something smashing against the wall echoed across the hall. Followed by a demonic snarl.

“They. touched. Rook! They die!”

That must be Spite.

Oh…

Rook realized that she never discussed her cinematic move with the others. Neve was used to it. She had witnessed it too many times during their missions.

She hated it. But she couldn’t deny how it made enemies feel overconfident. Prone to making mistakes. Better to catch off guard.

But not something to do with unaware participants.

When Rook carefully opened her eyes, another body flew against a wall. Ilario was still standing next to her, looking in another direction. His entire body tensed up in shock. Apparently Lucanis/Spite had been brutally throwing any Venatory standing in their way against the stone walls.

“Cousin, you need to calm down. They are already dead!” Teia yelled at Lucanis, but Viago held her back.

The final stand was Lucanis/Spite finally reaching Ilario, grabbing him by the throat and hurling him across the hall. The impact was strong enough to make Ilario break a few pieces of furniture in the process.

“Not. Enough. He needs to… suffer!” Lucanis and Spite shouted, as if they’d merged.

He quickly kneeled next to Rook and despite his pupils not being visible, his narrowed eyebrows showed enough concern.

“I’m fine.” Rook whispered, already feeling bad for the entire thing.

“No! He hurt you. He hurt us!” Lucanis/Spite responded back, hissing.

He was going to kill them all. If he hadn’t done so already.

“I think you already punished them well enough. Here, look.” Rook said, grabbing the dagger and pulling it out.

“See? No blood. Your cousin just has a terrible aim. He thought he won and that made him arrogant, distancing himself from his allies.” Rook explained, though she wasn’t sure how much lucanis/spite caught in their frenzied state.

“No… blood.” Lucanis/Spite whispered back.

During all this, Viago and Teia used the moment to tie Ilario down. All the other venatori were dead due to… impactful wall slammings.

“You’re disgraceful, all of you. It’s not enough he’s an abomination, but he also kneels?! How the crows have fallen!” Ilario continued to shout, but his defeat was imminent.

Rook slowly lifted herself off the ground, kneeling next to him.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you about this little… stunt I use from time to time. Neve hates it too. I won’t do it again and-”

Lucanis pulled Rook against him, wrapped his arms around her as the purple glow in his eyes started fading away. Burying his face against her neck.

“Never again.” he growled.

Rook squeezed his arm as a confirmation. The embrace ended with him taking her hand and raising Rook back to her feet with him.

All the yelling subsided when Catharina finally entered the halls. Even Ilario finally closed his mouth.

Rook didn’t dare speak. As the situation calmed down, Teia and Viago complimented her on the dramatic stunt. Thanked her for all the help she’s given.

Rook politely nodded. She could feel Lucanis staring at her. Avoiding any instances of aggravating him further would be wise.

That, until Catharina announced him as the first talon. At this point, he was swarmed by crows. People who wanted to start building connections. Others who just wanted to share a celebratory drink.

Getting through the crowd would be impossible.

“I’m going home. Could you tell Lucanis when you catch him? I think I have worried him enough for one day.” Rook said to Viago.

He nodded and then sheepishly smiled at Rook.

“What? What is it?” Rook asked, confused.

“Take care of my cousin, Rook. Enjoy your night.” he responded, slapping her shoulder in a friendly manner.

Rook shrugged and started heading towards the Eluvian. She looked back once more and managed to make eye contact with Lucanis. With hand motions, she quickly pointed towards the Eluvian and then waved goodbye. Before he could respond, Lucanis was swarmed by another wave of crows.

—

When Rook made it to her room, she wanted to throw herself onto the bed. What a day it was.

But these clothes had to go.

She quickly slipped out of the blood soaked fabric that was already torn in a few places. Doesn’t look like it can be repaired.

She left it on the floor and moved to the baths. It was so late at night, she doubted anybody was going to notice.

After a good cleanup, a few bruises became visible. Nothing fatal. But some were going to stick around for a while. Especially the deep purple ones.

Too lazy to dress up, Rook grabbed a robe and headed back to her bedroom. But she was hungry. There was no time to eat during the ordeal. Maybe the kitchen had something? Even just a snack.

She quietly snuck her way into the kitchen. Perhaps she could gather a few cookies and eat them in bed! Nobody would notice. It would be her little secret. It was also doubtful that Lucanis would already be back from his celebration.

“Rook.”

She froze. Her hand was so close to grabbing a cookie.

“Oh! You’re back already?” she responded, turning around. Caught in the act.

Lucanis was sitting on the couch. A cup in his hand, presumingly coffee.

“Yes.” he responded.

“I was actually going to come visit you in your room. After I had finished my drink.” he added.

“Visit me so late at night? Whatever for?” Rook responded as a joke.

But he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead Lucanis took another sip of his coffee.

“You’re wearing a robe.”

Suddenly Rook started feeling very shy.

“Ah, yes. I was covered in blood and wanted to check for bruises. Nothing bad, luckily.”

There was tension. And she wasn’t sure in which direction it was going to go.

The sound of her heartbeat made it difficult to focus.

“I… should go. Get out of this bathrobe.” she added and slowly took a step back.

“A good idea.” he said, taking the last sip. And then placing the cup back on the table.

“You can then show me the bruises.”

It took a moment for her to register what he said.

That, until he stood up and started walking towards her. Rook took another step backwards, only to find herself clashing against the kitchen table behind her.

It was too late now. Any means of escape were blocked. Lucanis stood in front of her, resting his hands on both sides - pinning Rock against the table.

“I thought you were dead.” he finally said.

Lucanis didn’t shy away from eye contact. Rook looked down instead, ashamed. At least until he gently lifted her chin.

“I was going to kill them all.”

His hand slowly moved to her cheek, caressing it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” she whispered back.

“You didn’t think I would react?” Help me understand, Rook.”

“No! It’s just… I didn’t think you would react like that. I didn’t expect it. I wasn’t sure where I stood with you, so I decided to focus on the mission and do my thing.”

“And has today cleared your doubts?” he asked, his thumb brushing against her lips.

She didn’t respond. And somehow she already felt breathless.

“Mierda.”

His lips clashed against hers. It didn’t take long for Rook’s to wrap her arms around his neck. Her hands grabbing onto him. Lucanis lifting Rook and placing her on the kitchen table, keeping her close.

It felt needy. Urgent. Especially when his tongue was starting to dance with hers, moaning into her mouth.

He grabbed onto her waist, pressing himself against her. From all the movement, Rook’s bathrobe was starting to slip and any exposed shoulders were bitten, licked or kissed.

What they didn’t realize was all the noise. Every moment caused a plate to fall. Cutlery clashing against other metallic objects.

They finally froze when somebody yelled “What is going on down there?!”

After that, silence. Followed by quiet chuckles between them.

“I know it’s not honorable, but we could pin it on Manfred.” Rook suggested, fixing her robe.

“Hmm… No, I’ll tell them the truth.” Lucanis smirked, kissing Rook on the forehead and giving her space again.

“And what is that? Sorry, I was fooling around in the kitchen?” Rook asked.

“Fooling around is a temporary notion. I intend to keep you for a long time.”

Lucanis smirked again, witnessing Rook blushing.

“Now go rest. I’m still planning on inspecting your bruises sometime soon.”

Before Rook could respond, Lucanis had returned to his room.

Falling asleep would be difficult after such a promise.

#lucanis #lucanis x rook #da4 lucanis #dragon age lucanis #lucanis dellamorte #lucanis romance #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age rook

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