#not really sorry i just think this is a load of bullshit

[ping-ski]

TW RANT/VENT ab work + LOTSA SWEARING kinda closer to how i talk irl sorry

(scroll along for your safety/comfort and i hope yall are doin alright <3 hopefully i'll post art soon!)

i dont give a fuck if sound like a little bitch for this but 8+ hour shifts are too fucking long for a human being to work ever (same opinion on school btw)

like what the fuck dym i was at work from 2pm-10pm yesterday then im back here from 8am-4:30pm to open?? there's some serious fuckery about here. some grade A bullshit- cause what the hell?? (often times im at work from 2pm-11pm like what the sfvisje)

nothing you could say could justify why anyone should HAVE TO work this long?? to work this damn much?? i work in retail as a second job and work as a caregiver as a main job (respite, hab, attn.) tell me why i should have 2 fucking jobs to survive bro??

cause girl how the fuck am i supposed to fit sleep and free time for myself or the shit i wanna do?? i got a life to live bro 😭 aight rant over my lunch ends soon

[meowdei]

Sukuna who was never close to his twin brother and never cared about the pipsqueak runt of a kid who’s his nephew.

He doesn’t care and doesn’t want to be associated with that bullshit. His brother doesn’t take the hint ever and invites him to everything. “My sons’s birthday party” this and “my son’s kindergarten graduation” that. What sort of graduation is meant for a kindergartener anyway? That’s a load of nonsense. But Jin is as annoying as ever with insisting on keeping contact and trying to get Sukuna involved and he hates it until by some tragedy out of nowhere, his brother and sister and law are dead. Yuuji’s left an orphan and no one can care for that kid because there’s no one left.

No one except Sukuna.

They ask him, too. The social workers. They turn to him and say some pitiful script about being “the only family left to take custody of him.” He knows pretty well what’s going to happen to the pipsqueak if he doesn’t agree. The foster care system and the possible horrors such a bright (even if annoying) kid could face makes him question saying no for a second. He’s surprisingly conflicted.

And it’s out of sheer impulsiveness alone does he end up as a single, grumpy, begrudging uncle who’s got custody of a child he never really cared to know in the first place.

And then he meets you.

Sweet, bubbly, warm, and so weirdly happy. Dictionary definition of what an elementary school teacher should be. Yuuji’s absolute favorite person on the planet as he waves hello at you enthusiastically every time that Sukuna drops him off and goodbye every time that Sukuna picks him up.

“I heard his new guardian would be his uncle. It’s nice to meet you,” you murmur to him the first day he picks up Yuuji after school, a look of pure melancholy on your face as you stare at him with an unearthly amount of compassion and sympathy. “Yuuji’s parents were wonderful people. I’m really sorry for your loss.”

“Wasn’t that close with either of them,” he grunts out. You look over at where Yuuji’s gleefully playing on the slide of the playground. Too young and innocent to realize that’s been ripped away from him. Too naive to understand what it means to grieve. Too hopeful about the world around him to realize just how cruel it can really be.

“Oh,” you murmur, nodding slowly.

He thinks that your unnaturally kind demeanor will finally be broken for a split second of judgement. What sort of heartless bastard doesn’t feel an ounce of grief for his own brother’s death? Instead, however, you seem to look at him with some weird sense of wonder.

“You’re a good uncle for stepping up regardless,” you say softly, “it’s more than what most would do in your shoes.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he clicks his teeth, unbearably uncomfortable with how weirdly sentimental this all is. “He’s just a five year old. How much trouble could he be?”

You raise a brow in amusement, eyeing him like he’s got one hell of a surprise waiting for him. He doesn’t like the vague way you hum, “Yeah. How could such a little human cause trouble, right?”

“I’ve got it under control,” he grumbles, a little annoyed that you seem to think that out of all things, a simple child would be enough to cause Sukuna any issues.

“Let me know if you need anything,” you smile.

Yuuji calls to you from the distance, squealing look what I can do! before he does a rather clumsy spin. Sukuna raises an unimpressed brow. You clap and praise him with an exaggerated gasp of approval.

It’s oddly endearing, he thinks to himself—you, not the kid. The kid’s barely tolerable.

“C’mon, you brat,” Sukuna calls. And then he looks at you and gruffly adds, “And I don’t need help.”

“Okay,” you grin brightly. It almost feels like you’re saying that a little sarcastically. “I’m sure you’ve got this parent thing down.”

Before he can even correct you that he’s an uncle, not parent, Yuuji comes running over on clumsy, short little legs and grabs onto Sukuna’s hand.

“C’mon, Uncle ‘Kuna!”

Sukuna doesn’t miss the way your eyes soften. Weirdly enough, he feels this odd sort of squeeze in his chest that doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he’s just getting old—that has to be it.

[yuutryingtowrite]

Yandere!Maid x Vampire!Reader

A/N: If you wanna know more about the levels, check this post :)

Warning: Not nsfw, but suggestive. MDNI. Butler (side character) calls reader “Mistress”

Danger level: ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Submissive level: ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♡ ♡

Yandere!Maid who looks at the castle in front of him, then the flier in his hands, then the castle again. Unless there was a typo in the address, the job interview should be here. He hesitantly uses the bat shaped door knocker and waits...This place looks so creepy and ominous, was this a prank ? Was it to scare him? Seriously? Sigh…He has had enough of being treated like a fool. As he continues his descent into frustration, bitterness and self-pity, he doesn’t hear the door opening. Nor does he see the butler standing at the entrance until he hears a: “Sorry for the wait, my kind sir. Are you here for the housekeeper position?”.

Yandere!Maid who thinks the butler is telling him a load of bullshit. According to him, the owner of this place is a vampire in search of additional staff members. He resists the urge to scoff. Whatever, if the “mistress” wants to take part in some weird role-play, then so be it as long as he would get paid. The same guy tells him to “please take a seat” in the living room and that “mistress will come and attend to you in a moment”. Soon after his departure, the air shifts. Black particles float around until it materializes something, or rather someone. The poor boy's shock and confusion quickly turn into enchantment. Fuck, you are totally his type. This is bad, he can feel his face burning. “Shall we go to my office?”, you ask with a smile.

Yandere!Maid who hates you. Who hates the fact that your personality matches your looks. Who hates how much control you have over him. The other day, your...pet sneezed on him, so he needed another uniform. “It seems that I only have a female one left ”, you told him. “There is no way in hell I am wearing that”, he sneered. “But wouldn’t you look cute in it? Besides, it is either that or cleaning with your normal clothes on until your new uniform arrives here-” “Alright, shut up, just give me that”, he abruptly took the offending dress from your hands and went to change. Since that conversation, his work attire has fully transitioned to said maid outfit. Maybe he becomes a bit too proud of himself whenever he catches you staring at him. And maybe, just maybe he wants to give you a nice view by bending down and taking his time “to clean the table” whenever he knows you are behind him. He will never admit that though.

Yandere!Maid who, one day, demands asks you about your eating habits. As soon as you answer, something regarding animal blood, he turns oddly quiet. You are about to ask what is wrong, but then he surprises you by climbing into your lap. You watch him get comfortable and, with trembling hands, undo the first buttons of his dress. The cherry on top is him pulling on its collar a bit to show a silver of his chest. He now avoids eye contact as he waits for you to take the lead…You are still just looking at him, so, with a blush becoming darker, he snaps at you: “A-are you stupid or something ? Do you want me to spell it out-” “I am just enjoying the view”, you respond with a teasing smile. Before he can sputter more insults, you grip his chin and tilt his head to the side, exposing his neck to your hungry gaze. “But if you insist…Thank you for the meal <3”

Yandere!Maid who has his face buried deep in his pillow while he tries to calm his flustered self down. After you finished drinking from him, he hurriedly got up and scurried to his room without so much as a word. The more he recalls the embarrassing noises he made in front of you, the more mortified he becomes. It was not his fault, it just felt really good and you even pulled him closer and tugged on his hair and-He whines and squirms in his bed as he feels his body turning hot again like that time. The action causes him to feel a sharp sting on his neck. He freezes. That is right. You marked him. You marked him. You marked him.

...

Don't drink from anyone else, ok?

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Part 5

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

✎ ˎˊ˗ Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

✎ ˎˊ˗ Chapter warnings: Sex. Minors DNI. Also, barely proofread, sorry for any mistakes!

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 3.8k

✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: February 1, 2025

✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Sorry it has taken me a while to get this part out. But I think you’ll like it. *fingers crossed* FULL TAGLIST TO FOLLOW. Sorry, I'm in a rush today. This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme. 

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part 4.5 | Part Five | Masterlist

A fancy hotel takeout sits untouched on your kitchen counter, the smell of roasted garlic filling the small space. You glance at the clock—6:47 PM.

Yoongi promised to take you to dinner, but given the circumstances, a quiet night in felt more appropriate. Safer for him. After all, the media has been relentless since the Dispatch scandal dropped close to midnight like Cinderella’s kitten heel at the ball.

You’re kind of pissed, actually. Scratch that—you’re furious. Just when it felt like you finally had Yoongi—finally had the chance to explore whatever this was between you—this bullshit had to rear its ugly head. A photo of his kind of ex leaving his building was enough to set the internet on fire, and now it felt like the flames were creeping dangerously close to your life.

You’ve talked to him once today, and even that conversation was clipped. A text from him at 5 let you know he was about to leave HYBE and swing by his place first. “Be there by 7,” he’d said.

You stare at the pristine takeout containers, willing yourself not to spiral. You’re not that person anymore. You’re not the insecure girl who lets her emotions run wild over things she can’t control. You’ve done too much good work to let this unravel you.

“You’re fine. You’re fucking fine,” you mutter under your breath, pacing the kitchen.

Your phone vibrates on the counter. Namjoon. Always coming to your rescue at the right time.

“Hello?”

“You doin’ okay?” Namjoon asks, his voice calm but laced with concern.

“Define okay,” you quip, though your voice wavers slightly. “It’s been a lot.”

“I figured,” Namjoon says gently. “That’s why I’m calling. Just wanted to check in. Yoongi’s been swamped today, and I know how this stuff can mess with your head.”

You exhale slowly, grateful for the concern but also acutely aware of the simmering emotions just beneath the surface. “I’m trying, Joon. Really, I am. It’s just… exhausting. The waiting, the overthinking, the noise. I just want to know where I stand with him, you know?”

“He’ll tell you,” Namjoon assures you, his voice steady. “Just… don’t let the noise get to you.”

You swallow hard, his words striking a chord. “Thanks, Joon. Really.”

“Anytime,” he says warmly. “And hey, take it easy on him tonight, okay? He’s under a lot of pressure, but trust me, you’re his priority.”

“Will do, dad,” you tease, and for the first time all day, you feel a flicker of lightness.

“Bye.”

You set the phone down, Namjoon’s words lingering in your mind as you glance at the clock again. 

You think about Yoongi and the kind of pressure he must be feeling now. You can take care of him tonight. He deserves it.

You’re rearranging the pillows on the couch, trying not to glance at the clock again for the hundredth time. It’s not even about tidying the place anymore. It’s about occupying your hands, distracting yourself from the swirling mix of emotions in your chest.

Then, the doorbell rings.

7:01pm. 

You take a breath, smoothing your sweater. Calm. Casual. You’re fine.

You open the door.

And there he is. Yoongi stands in the dim light of the hallway, a dark jacket zipped up to his collarbone, a black mask shading his face, somehow directing the focus on the exhaustion in his eyes. But what caught your attention is his hair—slicked back with a little sprout of inky locks on top.

He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly looking bashful at the heat in your gaze.

Christ. He looks good. Criminally.

He steps in. “Hi,” he says softly, his voice carrying that calm rasp you’ve missed.

Your heart clenches. “Hi,” you reply, your tone quieter than intended. You clear your throat, stepping back to let him in. “Come in.”

He steps inside, pausing in the entryway as he glances around. 

You then notice the bouquet in his hand—gorgeous white roses and baby’s breath wrapped in brown paper. 

He hesitates, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes flick over your face. Something in your expression must’ve softened, because he quickly averts his gaze.

“I brought these,” he says, holding them out a little awkwardly.

Your chest tightens, a strange warmth spreading through you. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

When you reach out to take the bouquet, your fingers graze his, and the contact lingers for just a second too long. Impulsively, your free hand rises to cup his cheek. Maybe it’s too much for whatever the hell this is between you, but the moment feels too honest to stop yourself.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

Yoongi freezes under your touch, his dark eyes widening ever so slightly. Then, as if the tension in his shoulders breaks all at once, he leans into your palm, just a fraction, and the smallest, most heartbreaking smile tugs at his lips as his eyes flutter close.

“I am now.”

You head to the kitchen, busying yourself with a vase to give the flowers the best chance to survive. You do not have a green thumb, so you pray to the gods the beautiful arrangement does not wither overnight.

“Hungry?” you ask, not turning around. “I bought chicken, shrimp fried rice, and some random banchan.”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Yoongi replies, his voice closer than you expect. You glance back to find him leaning against the counter, watching you with an unreadable expression.

You place the vase on the counter and fold your arms. “So,” you start, forcing lightness into your tone. “Survived the day?”

“Barely,” he admits, a tired smirk tugging at his lips. “Had to dodge more cameras than usual. Sat in meetings for a couple of hours. Si-hyuk personally called Sung Kyung’s agency. They assured me that they will investigate thoroughly. I couldn’t eat. I get home and there’s still press camping out. So yeah, shit day and I almost didn’t make it out alive.”

“That’s the longest response I’ve ever gotten from you.” You tease. “You really must be stressed out.”

Yoongi chuckles and for a moment, it feels like the tension that’s been hanging over you both all day melts away. 

You go around the counter and stand facing him where he’s sitting on your bar stool. He parts his legs and you immediately take that space, crowding him a bit more by placing your hands tentatively on his shoulder.

His eyes, warm like molten chocolate, meet yours. “How about you?”

You hesitate, suddenly feeling a little exposed. “I’m fine,” you say, though the tightness in your chest betrays you. “I mean, it’s not like this is new territory for you, right?”

“Doesn’t mean it’s easy,” Yoongi says quietly. “And I don’t like that you’re sort of affected by it.”

“I can handle it,” you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel, projecting strength since he looks a little broken right now.

Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line, like he’s not entirely convinced. 

“I kinda knew what I was getting into when I knocked in your studio yesterday,” you say softly. “And I’d do it again. For you.”

His eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across his face at your admission before it softens into something else. Something deeper. “For me?”

You nod, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “Yeah. For you.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, like he’s trying to figure out what to say. Then he straightens up from his slouch, taking one of your hands from his shoulder, pressing his lips softly against your pulse point.

“Dinner first,” he says. 

“Then what?” you challenge.

Yoongi just grins, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

As you sip the last of your drink, you steel yourself to ask the question that’s been bugging you all day. “So,” you say finally, broaching the topic. “Sung Kyung.”

Yoongi pauses mid-bite, his eyes flicking to yours. He sets his chopsticks down carefully, leaning back in his chair. “What about her?”

You take a steadying breath, forcing yourself to look him in the eyes. “Namjoon told me you’re co-parenting. But I need to hear where you two… stand?”

Yoongi exhales slowly. “Yeah, we’re co-parenting. That’s it. I don’t have any intention of getting back together with her. At all.” His voice is calm but firm, leaving no room for doubt. “I want Haneul to know his biological mom, but she and I—we’re done. That’s been over.”

Relief washes over you, but before you can fully settle into it, you notice the shift in his expression. His jaw tightens, and his eyes dart briefly to the table before returning to yours.

“There’s something else,” he says quietly, the words heavy with hesitation.

Fuck. You don’t like the sound of it, but you ask anyway. “What is it?”

Yoongi sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “A few weeks ago… she kissed me.”

Your stomach twists, and the room feels suddenly colder. “What?”

“I put a stop to it immediately,” he says quickly, his tone insistent. “I told her it couldn’t happen again, that if she wanted to keep seeing Han, she had to respect that boundary. And she has. She knows where we stand.”

You don’t respond right away, staring down at your plate as you try to process his words. 

Oh my god. This is so fucked up. You knew Sung Kyung’s reappearance wasn’t as harmless as it seemed, but hearing it confirmed still stings.

“I just thought…” you start, but the words trail off.

Yoongi’s voice is soft but steady. “You have every right to be upset.”

“Do I?” You think out loud. “We’re not…” You nod slowly, pushing your chair back. “I… need a minute.”

When you get to your bathroom, you release a long steadying breath. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, hands gripping the counter tightly. Fuck. You’re okay. This is–

A knock sounds at the door, startling you.

Yoongi’s voice is muffled as he says your name, but it’s gentle as can be. “Can I come in?”

You glance at the lock and realize, too late, that you forgot to turn it. The door creaks open, and there he is, standing in the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and something softer.

He steps inside, closing the door behind him and his arms immediately slide around your waist. The warmth of his touch seeps into you, and you meet his gaze through the mirror.

“Hey,” he murmurs against your hair. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You lean back against him, the tension in your shoulders easing but just slightly. “I just… I don’t know how to feel about it.”

“That’s fair,” he presses his lips to your temple. 

“But I need you to know–” presses another on your cheek.

“That I don’t want anyone else–” presses the last where your neck and shoulders meet. 

“Just you.”

Your heart clenches at the sincerity in his voice, and when your eyes meet again in the mirror, the tenderness there leaves you so breathless.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you turn in his arms, your hands sliding up to his face as you pull him down for a kiss. His fingers tighten on your waist as he deepens the kiss, pulling you flush against him.

You walk back to your bed, lips fused with his, your fingers tangled in the soft strands of his hair. The urgency between you grows as you push him down onto the mattress, his back hitting the sheets with a quiet thud. You follow immediately, straddling him, your body molding against his as you capture his lips again. The kiss is deep, consuming, his hands gripping your waist like he’s anchoring himself to you.

You stay like that for a while, tongues teasing, breaths mingling, drunk in the taste of each other. Then, a sharp pull of his lower lip between your teeth has him groaning into your mouth.

You’re driven by lust, and something else. A possessive demon seems to be overriding your better judgment, thinking you’ve been timid with your feelings for long enough. No woman, not Sung Kyung, even if he is Han’s mom, can take what you and Yoongi have been building up to for so damn long.

“You’re in your head,” Yoongi says, nudging his nose against yours.

“Did she kiss you like this, huh?” The words leave you before you can stop them. Your lips return to his, sucking greedily, staking your claim.

Yoongi’s breath shudders as you pull back just enough to meet his eyes. “No, baby.” His voice is rough, lips pink and swollen.

Your fingers slide under his shirt, pushing the fabric up and over his head, tossing it aside before your hands explore the newly exposed skin. He’s warm, toned beneath your touch, and the way his muscles tense under your fingertips only spurs you further. You lean down, lips dragging along his jawline, open-mouthed kisses trailing down his throat. He tastes sweet, salty, and entirely intoxicating.

“Did you fuck anyone else when I left?” you mumble against his skin, your teeth grazing the sensitive spot beneath his ear.

His breath hitches, “No, shit. No.”

“Good boy.” You hum in satisfaction, your lips venturing lower, your tongue flicking against the hollow of his throat. He groans, head pressing back into the pillow.

“Baby, you’re making me lose my shit right now,” he grits out, his voice strained, desperate. His hands now get braver, sliding underneath your top to fondle your tits. 

Maybe you’re delirious. Maybe you’re too turned on to think straight. Or maybe—maybe this is exactly what you’ve wanted since the moment you saw him again.

Your hand drifts down, fingers tracing the outline of his hard length through his trousers, feeling the way he twitches under your palm. 

“You’re mine, okay?” you whisper, nipping at his bottom plush as your fingers give his dick a squeeze.

He exhales a shaky laugh, his lips curving under yours. “Yours.”

He lets you revel in your greed for a few moments, allowing you to do whatever you pleased as you lose yourself in the heat building between you.

He ruts up towards your hand, grunting slightly. Honestly, he’s so hard, it’d be a mercy to release him from the confines of his jeans. So you do, helping him unbutton, unzip, and undress, until his cock springs free and flops on his stomach.

What a pretty dick. Literally lickable—solid, girthy, veiny, a bead of white pooling at the slit. You take him in your mouth, tracing the tip with your tongue, the taste of pre-cum coating your throat. You let drool cascade down his length, slick fingers pumping his shaft while your mouth suctions his mushroom head.

His hand goes to the back of your neck, guiding you in a bit more. “Mmm… that’s it, baby.” 

Yoongi moans your name as you go faster. You feel him twitching inside your mouth. He’s so hard but you don’t want him to cum yet. You pop him off to lap at the base, before your tongue travels upward to trace the thick veins on the underside of his cock. 

Jaw slack, his eyes are dark, dark as he observes you while propped up on his elbows. “Come up,” he says when you reluctantly pull away. “Wanna eat you out.”

Your clothes are yanked off your body as you take his place on the cushions, not a single piece of fabric now separating your skin. He takes you by the hip and adjusts your position so he can get his face close to your mound. Before you can mentally prepare yourself, he shoves his hot tongue against your folds, locating your clit in 0.001 seconds and you know you’ll be careening off a cliff in no time.

“I—Yoongi, that’s… shit that’s nice.” You can’t help it. It does feel nice.

You reach for the little ponytail on his head, gripping it for dear life. He hums against your bud when you pull, the vibrations only driving you more insane.

“You taste so good baby,” he mumbles.

“Yeah?”

“I can eat you out for days, make you cum,” he vows, delirious just like you are. “Over and over… my favorite fuckin’ snack.” 

“Oh my god, Yoongi…”

He feasts, and feasts, and soon enough, you’re shuddering in ecstasy, hips bucking in the process, as he slurps all you give him. He wears your cum like a gloss as he comes up for air, a lazy but proud smile on his face.

You reach for the drawer on your nightstand and pull out a new, sealed, and unopened box of condoms shoving it on his chest. He holds it in one hand, nose scrunching as he suppresses a laugh.

“Someone prepared…”

You shrug as he plucks one and unwraps it quickly, “What?”

“Nothing. You’re too cute for me.”

“Shut uppp.”

He rolls the condom on his dick, propping one hand by the side of your face as he uses the other to rub his blunt tip against your entrance. Your pussy is drenched and he slips right in and bottoms out with a grunt against your ear. He’s thick and big against your walls.

A smack against your ass cheeks makes you clench. “Ah, shit.” And another one lands before he soothes it with a gentle massage. 

You’re going crazy but you need him deeper. Sensing your needs, Yoongi pushes the back of your knees higher and snaps his hips with more force, pounding your pussy as your bed creaks against the wall. Your lids are heavy but you keep your eyes open long enough to see how fucked out he looks, cheeks flushed pink with a coat of sheen on his forehead, teeth caging his lower lip.

“You’re so hot. I wanna ride you,” you declare, stuttering a bit from his thrusts.

“Yeah?” He pants, slows the roll of his hips, waiting for your confirmation. 

When you nod, he slips off with a wince and you feel your juices trickle down your skin. You reverse positions, mattress dipping as you shift your knees on each side of his hips. 

“Do your thing, baby,” he urges, lacing his fingers behind his head, elbows bent outward in a relaxed pose.

Your smile is watery as you use his tip to prod against your clit one or twice before you sink him inside your wet heat. You moan in unison when you're fully seated, the feeling of him snug and warm and so full inside you driving you mad.

You tip your head back, palms planted against his chest as you swivel your hips in a slow dance. 

You look down on him, hair cascading over your shoulder, and you think how much you like this view. And how you won't mind this view everyday, actually. Seems the possessive streak from earlier still has not satiated. 

“Shit—you’re so hot like this.” 

You rock against him, clit stimulated deliciously as you ride his cock. He’s got a cocky little grin as you use him. You throw your ass back, and he has a front row seat and VIP access to your bouncing tits, his tongue slack on the side of his lips. He cups your tits with both hands, the wet pads of his thumbs rubbing against your nipples.

“My turn,” he grabs hold of your waist and thrusts upward so roughly your eyes roll back in pleasure.

He pistons into you, finger digging on your skin to keep you in place and a long moan rips from your throat when he jerks up particularly hard.

Your hands slip to his shoulder as your body bounces by the force of his movements, tits sliding against his chest. His thighs must be burning and when he slightly lets up, you dip your head, shamelessly to lick the side of his face, moaning his name against his ear. 

“Baby—” you beg, not really saying what you need, but he knows.

He uses a sweaty hand to guide a tit in his mouth, suckling at it with a bit of teeth. 

Not a moment later, he’s fucking you again from below, deeper, faster, and when rapidly presses into your sweet spot, you’re a goner.

“I’m close, Yoongi. So close…”

“Me too, baby,” his voice is rough as he lets go of your bruised nipple, brows furrowed in concentration like he is fully intent to give you the orgasm of your life. He pushes into your depth relentlessly, 

White hot heat is blooming inside you, and you feel his cock throb, abs tightening, before he spills his seed in the condom, groaning with his eyes shut to savor the intensity of his release. It’s the pure unadulterated pleasure painted on his face and his deep delicious moan that tips you over the edge, too, clenching against his solidness as you slip into the sinful pleasure of your orgasm.

Chest to chest, you rest your full weight against him, softening dick still nestled inside you. You press your lips against his neck, feeling the vibrations of his throaty chuckle. Then he asks, “Was it good?”

“So good.”

“Mm.” He hums, nosing the side of your face so you’d look at him. “Did you really mean what you said earlier?”

“Which one?”

“That you, uh, despite everything, you’d do it again, for me.”

You start to feel a bit shy, but then you remember you’re literally naked. On top of him. And he is still inside you. The point of bashfulness is long past. It’s time for the truth. “Yeah.”

“Bold of you, no?”

“Dumb, too.”

He pushes an errant hair behind your ear, eyes still glazed from the sex, but fond. “You know I really like you, right? If it isn’t painfully obvious.”

“Me too, Yoongi. Since Stan. Maybe even earlier.”

“Will you be my girl, then?”

Yoongi watches you carefully, waiting for your response. The earnest curve of his lips, the slight scrunch of his nose, the way his fingers still rest on your waist like he’s afraid you’ll slip away—it’s all so achingly real.

You study him for a moment, letting yourself take it in. Everything about him—his caring nature, his tenderness, his immense love for Han, his ability to drive you absolutely insane and still make you feel like you’re the only person in the world who matters.

The outside world is still in chaos. The scandal, the noise, the questions that neither of you have all the answers to yet. But here, in your little apartment, wrapped in the warmth of him, none of that feels as important as this.

“I will,” you finally say, voice steady.

His breath catches, just for a second. Then, his lips spread into the softest, gummiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, almost like he’s making sure he heard you right.

You nod, “Yeah.”

Your lips meet for a gentle kiss that feels like a promise and the rest of the world falls away. For now, no matter what comes next, it’s the two of you—finally honest, finally sure, and finally together.

:]

A/N: YASSSS. Our babies have finally figured it out. How do you feel right now? Would love to hear your comments! 

Thank you for reading, you lovely, beautiful human! Xo

P.S. Am gunning for 1,000 followers before Yoongi’s birthday. :) I think I’ll get there with your help. Feel free to reblog the story if you like, and that can help more people find our lovely L&L couple.

Love you!~

Permanent Taglist (Part 1)

@wonh0oe @hyukaluve @glossdebut @kiki-zb @kookiewithluv

@agustblog @maryhopemei @perfectiondazesworld @kimsaerom @kam9404

@00-sleepdontweep-00 @tea4sykes @mggv97 @marnz1990

@whydoeyecare @pastelmin @tarahardcore @minjenna @chimmchimmm

@aaclariww @mar-lo-pap @tinytan-gerine @vesperbells @butterymin

@eve1633455 @baechugff @lilkittenjenjen @wobblewobble822 @coffeedepressionsoup

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@withmuchluv-tannie @abadiimm @angellekookie

The rest to follow in a reblog.

[allisluv]

aaahh yay for a new charger!! Hmmm ok if it tickles your fancy, can I request a Finnick x reader fic post-rebellion where she’s feeling perhaps a touch soft, maybe not even realizing it (like just a heavy/triggering day where she’s feeling anxious) and Finnick knows, doesn’t comment on it, just hovers/takes over stuff for her to lessen her load? (Sorry if it doesn’t make sense - I got excited & wanted to send something in hahaha)

farmers market.

pairing: finnick o'dair x shy!wifey

content warnings: reader is having a rough go of it, use of petnames, pre-established relationship, set post-rebellion, finnick is so soft and sweet it's giving me a tooth ache (/pos), teasing, banter, fluff with a sprinkle of angst, not edited.

word count: 2k

author's note: elle, i hope you don't mind me writing this one for finnick x shy!wifey! i hadn't intended to originally but i started writing and i was like this is so them coded for me not to, you know? so, without further ado... here's my first finnick x shy!wifey oneshot. requests for them are open!! please do note that this can be read as a finn x reader insert too if you prefer that!! also this is my first time writing in a hot minute so please be kind. reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

Bad days tend to creep up on you like the calm before the storm, and without really knowing why, you welcome those days back like an old friend.

Its strange, when you think about it; you would think that the promise of a life without a constant war would feel reassuring but in reality, all it does is instil you with greater fear, and that is saying something.

In no way shape or form are you saying that you would have preferred to live under Snow's rule-- even less under Coin. You're simply saying that it feels terrifying to have this glorious taste of freedom, when in the back of your mind, there's a voice that reminds you it could all be taken away from you in a matter of seconds.

Finnick can tell something is weighing heavily on your mind when you toss and turn in bed all night. He combs his fingers through your hair, and presses soft kisses to your forehead, but no amount of comfort is able to soothe those reeling thoughts.

Eventually, you manage to doze off with Finnick's arms wrapped tight around you. Still, your sleep is broken and even then, you cant escape your anxiety.

Finnick watches over you as you rest. When a crease forms between your brows, an indicator that your dreams are not being kind to your weary soul, he uses his thumb to smooth it out. When a pitiful whine slips past your parted lips, he holds you closer and mutters words of reassurance into your hairline.

It's nearing noon when you finally start to stir. Finnick's arm had gone dead long before now, but he figures the pins and needles that shoot through his arm are well worth it if he has you in his arms like this. He watches as your eyes lazily flutter open and you absentmindedly sink deeper into his embrace. "Hi," He whispers into the silence. You wipe your eyes and mumble something incoherent. He smiles. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

You hum sleepily as you nuzzle your cheek against his bare chest. He is warm and soft and he smells like home. You can't help noticing the absent scent of saltwater and a frown tugs at the corner of your lips. "You didn't go swimming?"

Finnick wraps his ankle with yours under the duvet. "Didn't want to."

Your frown deepens and even in your half-asleep state you know he's lying, so naturally, you call him out on it. "I call bullshit." You try to sit up straighter but he eases you back down onto his chest with a quiet hum. "Why didn't you go? You always go swimming in the morning."

He kisses your forehead. "Maybe I just wanted to stay here with you." His fingers trace a path up your back. He normally does go swimming every morning; it's somewhat of a ritual for him. But he doesn't want to leave you when he knows you're having a rough go of it, especially when you're almost as stubborn as him and won't ask for his help. "Is that okay with you?" He teases.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, but his hands are gentle and soft on your body, and it eases some of the pent up tension in your frame. "Hmph. I suppose so." It's meant to be a joke, but your voice falls flat.

He doesn't seem to mind. He knows you're bound to be snippy or sad or on edge or all of the above. Hes had his own fair share of triggering days since the war ended and he's been the exact same. He just gives a quiet hum so you know he isn't ignoring you, and then he allows the silence to settle.

There's still a pit of unease in your stomach, but it's lessened slightly by his presence. "What time is it?" You ask after a while.

Finnick cranes his neck to one side to check the alarm clock on the bedside locker. "One."

You swear you give yourself whiplash as you shoot up and he grunts softly at the loss of contact. "In the afternoon?"

"No, in the morning. See the stars outside?" Finnick deadpans, trying to lighten the mood. You shoot him a withering look, and he grins and sits up now, too. "Its alright, angel. We're allowed to have a lie in every now and then." He soothes, pressing a soft kiss to your bare shoulder blade.

"We've got to go grocery shopping today," You argue, but it's a weak protest, even to your own ears.

"And we've got plenty of time," He responds patiently, smoothing his hand up and down your back once more. "It's a Sunday. The market doesn't close until seven. Just relax, my love. It's all okay." He knows you need to keep yourself busy on days like this; it's a way to remind yourself that you're controlling something.

He shifts onto his knees, the bedframe creaking underneath him, and wraps his arms around your midsection. "It's all okay." He promises. A kiss to your shoulder again. "We can get changed and leave right now if you want to, alright?"

You melt into his touch before giving a stiff nod. Maybe if you're out of the house, it'll ease your worries a bit, or at the very least distract you. Your eyes flutter shut as he presses a kiss to your neck this time around. "Okay."

"Yeah? That sound like a plan?"

You nod, more relaxed this time. "Yeah."

Finnick gets changed in a matter of minutes, and is ever so patient as he waits for you. He watches you flit between your wardrobe three or four times, choosing an outfit and changing your mind once you go to put it on,

"I'm sorry," You say quietly on your fifth time around. Your deft fingers anxiously toy with the hem of your sleep shirt as you sift through the contents of your wardrobe.

He's perched on the edge of the bed, and he offers you a gentle smile as he sees your fingers move to your mouth. You gnaw on a hangnail, and he pushes down the urge to lovingly scold you. "It's okay. Take all the time you need, angel. I'm in no rush."

Once you're finally dressed and out of the door, Finnick can't help but notice the way your eyes dart around nervously. He knows that you're no doubt feeling more wary, and he wants nothing more than to help soothe your heightened emotions. "So, angel, I was thinking." He slips his hand into yours as you move. He doesn't seem to mind how damp your palm is.

"Hm?" Your head whips around to see him. "Sorry?"

"I was thinking." He repeats patiently, matching your pace. He knows that you need a distraction right now and he Is more than eager to be of assistance. "There's this lovely cove off the coast. Malcom-- you'd know him, he's the coast guard-- was telling me about it. It's about an hour or two from here by boat. It's meant to be gorgeous out there. I was thinking we could go snorkelling there one day, if you'd like."

"I've never been snorkelling," You remind him softly.

He squeezes your hand. "I know. I could teach you." He offers. "We'd be able to make it a day trip. We could bring a picnic for the boat and we could sail for a while before getting to the cove." He presses a kiss to your cheek. "What do you think?"

The weight in your chest is shifting now that you're not tangled up in your thoughts. You can breathe a bit easier. "Yeah." You nod. "It could be fun. When were you thinking?"

Finnick hums in thought. "Maybe the day after tomorrow? If you're up for it. We can always do it later, I'm easy." He shrugs.

You nod. "Sounds like a plan."

The market is practically empty when you two arrive. Finnick insists on carrying the wicker basket you brought with you, and he follows your lead as you drift between stalls.

On your way out of the market, he tugs you toward a jewellery stall. Without even giving you time to ask what he's doing, he holds up a necklace, testing it against your complexion, before turning to the seller. "I'll take this one please."

You arch an eyebrow and give his hand a tug. "What're you doing?"

"Buying you a necklace." He replies simply.

"Why?"

"Because I want to."

"You don't have to."

"I said I want to, not that I have to." He corrects you, pressing a kiss to your joined hands. He pays the vendor for the necklace and secures it in the basket before letting you lead him out of the gazebo.

It doesn't take long to get back home, even with your goods from the market weighing you down. Finnick flicks on the air-con once you are inside, and once he sees you moving to turn the stove on, he secures his arms around your waist and practically manhandles you all the way back to the sofa. "Nope. Not happening."

"What are you--"

"Youre gonna sit there and watch something or read or... I don't know, do whatever you want while I cook dinner." He grins as he lets go and you flop down on the sofa. You open your mouth to complain, but he simply kisses you quiet before pulling away and pecking your head. "I have it covered. Don't worry about it, okay? Just relax. It's fine. Relax."

You sigh, but admit defeat, anyway. "Alright. Just... don't burn the house down."

Finnick arches a brow. "Are you doubting my cooking abilities?"

"Yes."

"Says the one who nearly did burn the house down making toast on my birthday."

"That was one time! And I was doing something nice!"

Finnick laughs and pecks your forehead again before sauntering into the kitchen. He's glad you seem to be feeling a bit better. "I know. But it still happened." He calls over his shoulder.

It doesn't take long for you to follow him into the kitchen; you're a tad bit clingy when you're feeling anxious like this. He doesn't make any remarks on it; he simply taps the countertop beside him in invitation and goes back to stirring a pot of sauce.

You swing your legs back and forth before finally finding your voice. "Finn."

He glances up from the pot. "Yeah, baby?"

You sigh. You've never been very good at naming your feelings, even when you were a kid. It makes you feel stupid. "I'm anxious today." You finally blurt out.

Finnick turns down the heat on the stove to give you his undivided attention. He nods sympathetically. "I know. Do you wanna talk about it?"

You shake your head. "No. I'm just letting you know."

He nods. "That's okay. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You've done more than enough," You rush to say.

"That's not what I asked." He retorts gently. "Is there anything you need?"

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek. Asking for what you needed or wanted was also another thing you weren't very good at, but Finnick doesn't make you feel silly for it, and it feels easier to tell him. "Can I have a hug?"

Finnick wastes no time in reaching for you. His arms fit around you as snugly as possible but it doesn't feel constricting. It just feels safe. He rests his chin atop your head and nuzzles his nose into your hair. "Love you."

"I love you," You reply, melting into him. You can't help the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips when you see the steam bubbling from the pot over his shoulder. "Hey, Finn?"

"Yeah, angel?" He pulls away just enough to smooth your hair out of your eyes.

"Guess I'm not the only one who's awful at cooking."

He frowns and looks over his shoulder when you laugh. "Shit!"

[mossangelll]

Yandere!Jinx x Reader

Bath Time 🛁🫧

a/n: decided to indulge my weird thoughts…sorry for any grammar/tense mistakes i wanted to write this down so bad i barely proofread 😭

pic from @arcanescreencaps

tw: afab reader, dubcon, improper drug use, smut but nothing too detailed - mdni

Why did you have to be so stupid and sprain your arm? It wasn’t even that bad, just some mild swelling and a touch of discomfort - in the outside world, where you still had independence and freedom, you would’ve handled it perfectly fine.

But you’re with Jinx now, holed away in her den where she treats you like you’re made of glass. In another life her doting care would’ve been such a welcome comfort but here it’s like being stuck under the hot summer sun, stifling and oppressive. She had decided you were too injured to care for yourself so she took over instead. It was finally time for you to have a shower and no matter how loudly you protested she decided that she needed to bathe you to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself even more.

What a load of bullshit.

So, after your ‘tantrum’, she had wrestled you into the bathroom. The tub was almost full to the brim with bubbles and even a…graffitied rubber duck floated along the still surface.

You grip onto your towel and look back at Jinx, who stares you down with a look that says ‘drop it’. You don’t dare challenge her silent demand, you upset her enough by hurting yourself - you’d rather not be punished again.

Your shaking hands let go of the fluffy towel clenched in your iron grip knowing you can’t delay the inevitable any longer. Her eyes seem to darken the second your towel is on the floor, eyes roving your naked body as she bites her lip. Tears well in your eyes at being subjected to something so, so humiliating.

You jump into the tub without a second’s hesitation; all you want to do is sink under the water and drown but you know Jinx would never let that happen. You settle for using the bubbles as a sort of cover to protect yourself from her wandering gaze. She kneels down at the side of the tub getting all the toiletries she would use ready.

She’s oddly quiet as she takes a sponge and douses it with apple scented body wash, her body wash. Her hands are careful as they scrub at your your back, apologising whenever one of her long nails happens to catch on your skin.

It’s not so bad, you think. The water is warm and Jinx had started humming one of your favourite songs. You don’t like the fact that nothing of yours really belongs to you anymore, but you downright despise the way you actually like the way her scratchy voice follows the music.

“Ya know, my sister used to do this for me back when I was little…” Her voice seems so small and pensive as her train of thought wanders off into the heaviness of the humid air as she continues to scrub.

You wait for her to continue but she’s clammed up, focusing instead on getting you clean. The only times you heard about this mysterious sister was when you set her off and she would rampage, letting loose little details her and there in her episodes.

Your heart aches for her but you don’t even know why. She kidnapped and hurt you but still she finds a way to infiltrate every aspect of your being.

Her hands travel to your neck and arms, a trail of suds following her circular motions. Your eyes are closed as you relish in her ministrations before they’re suddenly jolting open, realising where Jinx's hand has stopped.

“Toots, you, uh, don’t mind if I make sure you’re all clean?” Her low voice calls out, eyes glued to where the tops of your thighs would be under the suds and bubbles.

Her fingers tremble under the water, sponge drifting closer to the apex of your legs. You find yourself squeezing your eyes shut out of instinct when you realise how ruddy the apples of her cheeks are, how heavy the pants that rumble out from deep down her chest are. You try to angle your body away from her leering gaze but there’s no point - the tub is too tight and you don’t want to risk her anger at getting everything soaked.

You don’t even bother answering her indulgent question as you know she’s not truly asking you feel about her endeavour.

Your chest is tight with fear and anticipation like ripping off a sticky bandaid that you know is going to sting.

The sponge delves between your legs.

You gasp at the sensation of the porous sponge the feeling so shocking, your thighs tremble in response.

At first she really is just cleaning you and you suppose she would’ve had to do it at some point. You relax thinking you can let your guard down - she’ll move onto your legs and soon you’ll be done. Soon you can forget all about this experience.

But she doesn’t stop. The sponge is now petting you, her delicate manner swapped for harder pressure. Your legs squirm and you try not to keen at the sensation. What is she doing?!

The damp heat in the enclosed room must be getting to your head. You feel a delirious, warmth spreads from the base of your feet and up, up, up; you have to fight just to remind yourself that she is your captor. She is insane and she will stop at nothing to keep you with her, even if it means killing you and taking herself with you.

And still, despite the mantra you repeat, your head feels impossibly heavy and you have to lean your head back just to ease the pressure. She rubs at a particularly sensitive spot and you can’t help but let a small moan slip out from your lips.

Jinx’s perceptive link eyes dart up to look at your contorted face, travelling down your neck and stopping just where the bubbles meet your breasts.

God, you don’t want her to think you’re enjoying what’s happening to you.

But it’s clear she does as the blush on her face travels down to her chest and it’s like she’s a flashing red flag screaming danger but you can’t find it in you to pull away. She lips her chapped lick and grinds the sponge even harder against your clit as your hips cant towards her searing touch.

Jinx has never initiated anything sexual before and now here you are mewling for her as if anything about this situation is normal. You hate yourself so much for giving into her but your brain is so scattered and you’re too tired to revolt against her.

Electricity is sparking down your spine like a live wire in water and you feel yourself reaching your peak so close and just right and-

Jinx pulls her hand out of the water like she’s been burnt. Her eyes blown wide and she seems to be shaking - why has she stopped? She shakes her head as if to clear the stray thoughts that vacate her mind.

How could she do this to? Humiliate you by treating you like a child and then touching you so intimately knowing she wasn’t even going to stick around? Your head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and you just want to drag her back so she can touch you more.

Her body is stiff as she stands up to dry her hands like nothing even happened between you two.

“I need to uh…finish a job for Silco. You know me, shirking all my work! He’ll kill me if I don’t leave right now at this very second. Yeah.”

Her voice wobbles as she rambles on and you can tell by the way her eyes shift as she avoids your gaze that it’s a lie. You know she knows that you’re aware of this fact. You scoff with a roll of your eyes and splash your foot in the water, booting the rubber duck out of the tub and it plops out with a distorted quack. You feel used, even more so when you realise the fire in your stomach seems to be burning stronger for Jinx.

She scurries over to the exit, hand reaching for the door handle, eager to make her escape before she pauses, turning to look at you one last time.

“You can finish bathing yourself, right sweet cheeks?” Her face is still dusted with pink and her eyes are glazed with wonderment as she stares down. You slowly nod your head yes, anything to get her to leave you alone.

Jinx takes her leave and shuts you in to be alone with your thoughts. She waits for a second to hear for the splash of the water before sliding down the door, long blue pigtails pooled at her feet. Her eyes are closed in bliss and she brings the hand that was washing you to her mouth, taking a tentative lick - as if she’s committing the taste of you to her memory.

A small grin erupts on her face - today was a victory.

She needs to let Singed know that this new shimmer variant was a success, a great one, and she needs more.

masterlist

[whoisraii]

☆ WIN IT FOR YOU — LN4

summary: it was his home race and all he wanted to do was win it for you...

F1 MASTERLIST

pairing: Lando Norris x f!reader

word count: 13.8k

cw: slow burn, happy ending, fluff, use of y/n, race calendar skipped after miami <3

note: request on my blog<3 okay this is like the first fic I wrote in months...kinda let my fingers slip...hope I did lando justice with this one 😭...also like the Lando hate is forced in my opinion...like give the guy a break he already has a lot on his plate..

Playlist for this fic <3  - I'd tell you to listen to these because it creates the ambiance better {I wrote while listening to these} so the thoughts run better...

THE SOUND OF FLASH shot in the room echoing on the walls...the air conditioner chilled the room as jacob redefined his pose for the next cover photo…(Y/n) softly hummed as her fingers perfected the shot and another sound of the flash echoed across the room…Jacob clears his throat as she gets lost in the controls of her camera… “You know…we have been here for 4 hours (Y/n)…I think it's time we wrap it up now..don't we?”

(Y/n) sighed as she nodded… “Yeah..good idea..I’ll go home load these up on my laptop and get them done by tomorrow..how does that sound?” Jacob nodded and got out of the chair and walked to the nearby table and uncapped a disposable bottle and gulped half of it down in one go… The sound of zips was heard as (Y/n) packed up all the equipment and slinged her duffel bag across her shoulder as she walked downstairs from the studio…

Her consciousness was pretty blurred due to the earphones blaring music at full volume in her ears as she took out her umbrella and shook it open putting it above her head as she began to walk across the street while scrolling on her feed…Suddenly a horn blared up and (Y/n)’s eyes widened…she looked to her left and it was almost too late…the car was just too close… (Y/n) groaned as it hit her almost softly, being braked at almost the perfect time…A guy got out of the car as she groaned rubbing her thigh… “If I was you…I’d at least keep one ear open while scrolling like that in the middle of the street” The guy said in one go…He had curly hair..tanned skin…and a look in his eyes she quite couldn’t place a finger on.. “I’m sorry..” (Y/n) mumbled as she looked around…Her eyes fell on the time on her phone screen as it displayed the number 7:30pm boldly on the top of her lockscreen…she fixed herself quickly before muttering an apology to the man and quickly making a run to the bus stop with her umbrella shielding her as much as it could… What had she been thinking when she had told Jacob that she would have given him the photos by tomorrow…hell she didn't even know if she was going to make it to her dorm to finish her assignment and turn it in by the deadline she had…

The bus ride had been really quiet…even with her earphones in her ears…it just wasn't like the other times she took the bus…(Y/n) would be lying if she said that everything felt normal nowadays…in fact if she had to phrase the mental bullshit she had been undergoing…everything felt late, weird, time consuming and unfruitful… Sure she was a perfect student with a part time job as a florist…But it wasn't as easy as she had thought when she had started out…being a history major…oh that was worse… It took her the exact time of an hour and eleven minutes to complete that damn paper that was sitting in her portals with a deadline that was about to end at 57 minutes…she hit submit before opening the editing app before exporting jacob’s photos and getting to work… An hour passed as she finally finished editing half the pictures…(Y/n) groaned as she held her head and rose from her bed and walked herself to the kitchen to get herself a coffee…she was scrolling on her phone while the coffee was being prepped… That’s when he saw him…the same guy from the evening…but..oh..Oh..oh lord what the actual fuck…(Y/n)’s eyes widened… “He’s an F1 driver?” Her mind and mouth spoke at the same time as her brows scrunched and her fingers almost in a trance clicked on the profile by itself…it was the team’s page…the coffee machine dinged as it pulled her back to reality…she took her coffee and dragged herself back to her bed… Pushing the laptop screen open she typed out the name of the team on a web browser…the results flooded in as she read two names side by side… “Lando Norris…Oscar Piastri” Both were F1 drivers and she just so happened to almost get run over by one of them…(Y/n) shrugged as she closed the window…she tucked the laptop back into her backpack as she put it under her bed and pulled the covers on herself…skipping dinner was really normal about her… It just happened one time right? She just happened to be the person who almost got run over by an f1 driver…but would it?...would it really be just one time?

It was a sunday…nothing special…nothing weird…just a normal sunday…(Y/n) had just pulled up to her weekend job at 8am in the morning…She unlocked the shop and smiled as the smell of fresh flowers flooded her nostrils… Every weekend (Y/n) opened up the shop in the morning and the actual owner…her boss…a sweet 68 year old lady she had always called ‘kylie’ would come in late…(Y/n) cleaned up the shelves as she got everything sorted out and ready when suddenly the bell rang and someone stepped in…

(Y/n) had her back turned to the customer as she hummed cleaning the back desk…she let them pick out what they wanted to buy…and finally she heard the ring on the counter indicating that the customer was ready for her to wrap the flowers and help them buy it.. “Hey there! Good morning, what can I help you with…” Raina’s voice faded as her eyes met with the greenish blue orbs staring back at her… “And…we meet again?” Lando smirks as he hands her a handful of roses and daisies… ‘weird match but works’ (Y/n) thought as she bound the flowers and trimmed the stems… “yea…” Raina chuckled “Surprise…I work here..” She huffed out as looked back at him.. “Okay brown paper or a basic cover or a vase? And like do you want a film over it or just for me to bind it up for you?” (Y/n) mumbled out the now very natural question to which Lando quietly replied “Brown…and no film just bind it up..” He gave her a lopsided smile…which (Y/n) gladly returned… A few minutes later (Y/n) was done binding them up..she billed out everything before looking up at him… “Cash or Card?” another trained question leaving her mouth but with a genuine smile ghosting her lips… “Cash..” Lando smiled as she told him the amount to which he handed her that…while the receipt printed out a mentally phrased question made it out of her mouth without even realizing… “Roses and daisies are a weird combination to give to your girlfriend”...Lando chuckled as she said that and her eyes widened… “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to…” “don't worry…it didn't offend me…they are for my sister…it's more of an inner meaning kind of thing…it's going to take a lot of time if i'm going to explain it right now…” The sound of the machine whirling beeped as the receipt was finally printed …she tore it off and handed him the receipt… Lando stood there for a second his eyes roaming over the receipt as he gave a nod before starting to walk off…but just as he was about to…he turned around and smiled “looks like someone did their homework…I never told you my name headphone girl” Realization dawned over (Y/n) as she checked the system…she had typed his name like it was a natural habit onto the receipt without even realizing… “See you around!” Three last words she had heard as the bell dings indicating that lando was now gone…and for some stupid reason..she smiled at the roses and daisies the entire day

As time passed..whenever Lando was in town he would just come by and sit for hours with her as she worked her shift on the weekends…Once he had asked her what her favorite flowers were…to which (Y/n) had replied lavenders without a second thought…she loved them…As time passed (Y/n) found herself wrapping a few lavenders for lando almost twice or thrice each week…

“I think I'm starting to like lavenders a bit too…” He would say any time she confronted him about it…Sometimes he would come to buy a bouquet and bring coffee and end up staying there till she would close up…

And just like that Lando Norris became a regular in the shop almost each weekend when he was in town…A few months into Lando being regular..kylie decided to meet the ‘Regular guy who gives me business’ and she loved him…absolutely adored him…maybe even more than she adored (Y/n)...

(Y/n)’s last week of uni was lingering as finals drained her mentally…She had talked to Kylie about being a regular full time for the shop to which Kylie had happily agreed and raised her pay a bit…As she handed in her last exam of her life…she sighed softly closing her pen and holding her head…she was independent..fully independent now…

She had now achieved what she wanted to be since she was 11…to be secure...to be independent…Ever since Lando had entered her life..the monotone feeling had disappeared…she had someone she could rely on genuinely…a close comforting bond built over a concerning amount of cups of coffee and hours of just pure talking about anything and everything in their lives…Lando had managed to get (Y/n) involved in F1 as well…she found herself at 4am waking up to watch the races…in a way it was just her way of showing Lando gratitude for pulling her out of the ditch an year ago…and in another way she had grown a soft spot for the sport…in a way it was comforting even if she was yelling at her screen about the shit strategies ferrari had and how horribly they treated their driver…

“No matter how much I like them…I’d question my existence too if I was Charles…” (Y/n) would say to Lando any time he asked her about why she had a soft spot for the Ferrari team…He had healed her and she would write him a hundred thankyou letters to him…

(Y/n) makes her way out of uni as she takes the bus to the flower shop to see kylie and Lando already waiting for her near the counter…Raina went inside and hugged kylie as kylie handed her the keys to the shop because kylie would be taking a vacation for the next week…a really hard earned one…when kylie walked out (Y/n) turned to Lando and hugged him tightly…

“How was the exam?” Lando smiled softly at her as his arms found her waist wrapping around them tightly returning the hug… “I made it…guess uni is finally over…” The pair decided to sit down behind the counter waiting for any new customers…a few came in and left with their bouquets and just like that…it was closing time…(Y/n) and Lando quickly shut the door off and went to the back rooms so that (Y/n) could pack up.. Lando leans against the shelves, watching her like he always does — quiet, patient, present. The sound of the door clicking shut echoes faintly through the empty shop. Outside, the sky’s already dimming, soft orange hues brushing the windows. (Y/n) pulls her hoodie over her head and finishes tying up her hair. “So… that’s it? You’re officially done?” The words leave Lando's mouth in the softest and most soothing way as the question hangs in the atmosphere as (Y/n) continues packing her bag…she exhales like she has been holding everything in for days…her head bobbs softly as she nods… “Yeah. No more exams. No more weird group projects. No more 3 a.m. breakdowns over citation formats.” A grin spreads across Lando’s face…“I don’t know, I kind of liked those 3 a.m. rants. They were very… expressive.” He fixes his posture as he puts his back on the wall and (Y/n) faces him resting on the shelves…“You liked watching me spiral?” She smirked “Only a little.” The words left Lando’s mouth as they both cracked up a smile which developed into laughter which quickly resided into a comforting silence… “I thought I’d feel more… I don’t know, proud? Relieved? But it’s weird. It’s like everything just got quiet all of a sudden.” (Y/n) shrugs as she looks outside of the window… “It's like…everything just came to a halt and now I'm just…hanging..” 

“Sometimes it takes a minute to catch up to the feeling.” Lando looked down into her eyes as they exchanged a soft understanding smile with each other…(Y/n) knew…(Y/n) knew that Lando wasn't saying much, but he didn’t need to. That’s always been something about him — he listens like it matters.

“I spent so long just trying to get through it all. Like, finish the degree, pay rent, keep everything together. And now that I actually have time to breathe… I don’t really know what to do with it.” Lando shifted his weight, then stepped closer, not too close, just enough…

“Maybe you don’t have to figure it out right away.” A smile ghosted (Y/n)’s face as she smiled up at him…“I’m not great at sitting still.” She muttered out hoping he wouldn't hear her but he did…He always heard her… “You don’t have to sit still. Just… don’t rush past this part, either. You’ve earned some space to not know.” As he said that Lando looked at her with the amount of reassurance that confirmed her that even if it was 4am in the morning and she needed help…Lando would just be a single call away…another soft and comforting silence fell until (Y/n) decided to break it… “Thanks for showing up today. I didn’t even ask.” She looked up at him…a soft gloss on her eyes…“You never have to.” Lando replied, staring into her eyes with the most soft smile he had ever given anyone…

The sound of the door clicking shut echoes faintly through the empty shop. Outside, the sky’s already dimming, soft orange hues brushing the windows. (Y/n) pulls her hoodie over her head and finishes tying up her hair.

“I like being here. With you.” Lando said looking at the sunset…(Y/n) smiled softly as she slinged her bag on her shoulders…“I like you being here too..” They hold the silence for a moment — not awkward, not unsure. Just comforting and still…

“Come on. Let’s get you something to eat. Real food. No more skipping dinner.” (Y/n) groaned as she finally chuckled before saying “Alright, alright. But only if I get to pick.” “I’ve already accepted defeat.” Lando says as he puts his arms up in a surrendering motion and raina chuckles softly They grabbed their things and walked toward Lando’s car, shoulders brushing as they moved side by side. Outside, the street lights are just flickering on. And for once, everything doesn’t feel late — it just feels right.

The hum of the engine fills the quiet air as the car idles in line. (Y/n)'s window is rolled halfway down, her elbow resting casually on the door. The car smells faintly like her vanilla body spray and Lando’s cologne — a strange but comfortable mix… “You really went for nuggets and fries?” Lando smiles as she looks at her by the side of his eye and focuses back on the road…(Y/n) smiled and turned to him “Do you wanna fight me right now or after I eat?”

Lando chuckles as he parks in the parking lot in front of (Y/n)’s apartment…“Just saying… you’ve got commitment.” (Y/n) smiles as she softly replies back “Exactly. Learn from me.” They both laugh. The kind that escapes easily, no effort, just comfort. (Y/n) quickly opens the bag of food. She passes Lando his drink and then proceeds to pop open the paper bag, and steals a fry before handing him the rest.

“Hey—” Lando chuckles as he speaks up but he is cut off by her voice “Tax.” (Y/n) smiled softly before a silence fell in the car as the duo began to eat in silence until Lando breaked it.. He holds the cup to his mouth as he sucks on the straw and gulps down the drink before looking at her “Do you ever feel like the thing you love the most stops feeling like… yours?” (Y/n) takes her drink and stops mid-sip.. “Where’s that coming from?” It’s almost like Lando can't meet her eyes...He shrugs a bit as he looks out of the window… “Lately racing’s felt… heavy. Not hard, not exhausting — just… like I’m chasing something that’s not even mine anymore. I used to love it for the speed, the instinct, the feeling of just being there. Now it’s—” Lando sighs as he waves his hand almost like he’s trying to find the words…“it’s…it’s like every lap is a test. Like I’m trying to prove something to people who’ve already decided what I’m worth.”

(Y/n) looks at him as she sighs “Is that what you think? That they’ve already made up their minds?” Lando doesn't answer…he just didn't have the courage to for some reason…(Y/n)’s gaze stays fixed on his as she slowly leans back in the passenger seat… 

“You know what I see? I see a guy who lights up when he talks about how the tires felt during lap 16. Who gets mad not because he failed, but because he knows what he’s capable of. I’ve watched you love this sport like it’s a part of your skin.” Lando turns his head…his eyes meeting with hers as she continues…

“You’re allowed to be tired. You’re allowed to feel the pressure. But none of that changes why you started. Or how much you matter — not to a team, not to some sponsor, but to the people who actually see you.” Her voice softens…“One bad weekend doesn’t rewrite everything you’ve done. It doesn’t take away who you are. And it sure as hell doesn’t mean you’ve got anything left to prove.”

That’s when Lando sighs and for a second his walls slip…(Y/n) sees the boy beneath the driver…in front of her…After all…Lando was also a human who needed to be reassured of his capabilities sometimes…

“Do you really think that?” “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

A few seconds pass. Then he reaches over, takes one of her nuggets, and eats it wordlessly. (Y/n) gasps as she looks at him faking an offended expression “Excuse me—” Lando grinned as he let the word fall from his lips in the most carefree and free way “Tax…”

(Y/n) laughed as she shoves him lightly. Lando leans his head back on the seat and lets out a breath that sounds a little more like relief this time rather than a weight inside him begging to be relieved

“Thanks. For being the one place I don’t have to be the guy who wears McLaren's racing suits...” Lando says looking at her while (Y/n) smiles softly “You’re welcome. For always.”

3 days later it's raining as Lando barges into the shop…almost practically wet…He shoots a grin at (Y/n) who was cleaning the counter when she looked at the bouquet she was making and sighed “Hey, we’re open, but if you’re dripping, I’m legally allowed to throw a towel at you.” 

Rain taps gently on the windows, the sound muffled but steady. The shop smells like soil, eucalyptus, and the faint vanilla candle (Y/n) lit earlier. The doorbell jingles softly. Lando’s voice rings across the room…“Harsh welcome.” (Y/n) smiled as she peered over the counter…Her face lightened up when she saw him…

Lando was drenched…his curls stuck to his forehead indicating he had gotten slightly wet as he had closed the umbrella before walking in…which also answered why his hoodie was half wet… “Oh look what the rain dragged in…you know you’re gonna be down with fever after this right Lan?” Everyone called him that but from her mouth…god it felt like it was call from heaven to him…

“You got a mop or do I just stand here and ruin your floor?” (Y/n) smiled as she shook her head as Lando shrugged…she disappeared into the backroom and threw a small hand towel at him…“Thanks.” He ruffles his hair a bit and sets the soaked hoodie on a hook near the door. He was wearing a plain black shirt underneath which had been saved from being dampened by the thick hoodie… “You want something warm? I’ve got hot chocolate in the back. Not from a machine, thank you very much.” (Y/n) smiled as she looked at him “I made it in the morning…” Lando smiled as he stood in front of the counter as she let him in…“Yeah… yeah, that sounds good.” He smiled at her as he looked her up and down…Had she always looked like she was the moon…she almost looked like she had a soft glow around her…he shook his head as she let him in and they both went to the backroom… A small lamp cast a gentle yellow glow. The rain sounds louder back here, like a low lullaby. (Y/n) set down two mugs of hot chocolate on the old wooden table as she pulled a chair and sat across Lando… “One has a little cinnamon in it. Try not to die guessing which.” She smiles as she pushes one of the cups towards him…“Living dangerously today, huh?” Lando smirked at her as she smiled tilting her head “That’s just me being me…” A soft laughter erupted in the room which died down soon after as Lando cleared his throat…He turned the cup slowly in his hand before finally letting the statement fall from his lips… “So… I’ve gotta tell you something.” (Y/n) sat up, setting her cup down and looking at him…“Okay. Should I be worried?” (Y/n)’s voice was almost a whisper…she was thinking about the worst possibilities… Had she said something stupid which hurt him?

Did she mess up something?

What had she done…?

Oh lord…

“No. Just—don’t hate me.” Lando looked at her…

“Lando.” Panic spread across her face as Lando noticed and shook his head as he finally sighed and looked at the counter that could be seen from the door…“Season’s starting. First race is this weekend. Then it’s back-to-back for months. I’m flying out tomorrow morning.” Some relief sets back into (Y/n)…she knew this would come her way…she just didn't know this quickly…

“How long?” (Y/n) let the question fall off her lips like she had rehearsed it mentally a hundred times just to soothe the hollowness she would feel while he would be gone…“Five months. Give or take.” Lando said as he looked into her eyes..that was the time they made a quiet and mutual agreement… “And then?” (Y/n) said looking at him as she tried to shift in her seat…somehow it was starting to hurt her entire body in just two seconds…“Then I’ll be back….Silverstone.”...“Right.” (Y/n) nodded as she took another sip before setting it on the table… “I didn’t want to just vanish on you…you matter to me…and I felt like you should know…” Lando looked at her hoping she wouldn’t look at him differently…“I’m glad you did.” (Y/n) smiled…she had sorted out the mental turmoil and she took another sip and looked at him before speaking.. “Five months is a long time. But not forever.” (Y/n) looked at Lando looking for any sense of reassurance in his eyes…“Exactly. And I’ll call. Text. Send you blurry photos of my hotel breakfasts.” (Y/n) chuckled as she looked at him…That innocent ‘I trust you’ smile Lando loved more than anything…“Please do. I want full reviews. I’m holding you to it.”....“Deal.” Lando smiles as (Y/n) takes their empty mugs and washes them in the sink… A comfortable silence falls again, a deeper kind of quiet wrapping around them. The kind that holds what words can’t.

“Promise me something?” (Y/n) says as she turns around to face him…“Don’t spend the whole season trying to prove yourself. Just… love it. Like you used to.”

Lando looks at her…his face softening as his vulnerable side flushes out…“You’re the only one who says that, you know?”...(Y/n) sighs and looks into his eyes ....“Then I’ll keep saying it. Every time.” She walks closer and places her hand over his…He turns his palm up and gently holds her fingers. “God, I’m gonna miss this.” Lando looked down… “I’ll miss annoying you on your shifts…” (Y/n) smiled as Lando looked up at her while he said the last part… “I’ll be right here when you come back. Hot chocolate and all.” (Y/n) smiled as she looked at him and hugged him to which he answered immediately, his arms finding her waist and wrapping around it as she played with his hair. The rain outside made it so much more comfortable…They both knew…At the end of the day they would have each other…to turn to..

(Y/n) is sat cross-legged on her bed, hair up in a messy bun, hoodie too big for her. Her laptop screen glowed. Behind her, a shelf of books, a candle flickering low, and a soft throw blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her phone buzzed, and she answered the video call. Lando’s face appears — hoodie on, lying on his hotel bed in Melbourne… “There she is.” Lando’s voice soothed her ears as a smile spread across her cheeks… (Y/n) raised her brow as she spoke…voice hoarse due to not talking for hours at a stretch “Shouldn’t you be asleep? You’ve got FP1 in, like, six hours.”

(Y/n) fixed the blanket and snuggled and rested her head on the cushion that supported her…“Can’t. Too much adrenaline, or nerves. Or maybe I just missed hearing your voice.” Lando said as he looked at her and smiled softly…genuinely… “Smooth.” (Y/n) chuckled while her eyes were closed…“I’m trying, alright? Give a man points.” Lando said, pretending to be offended…“You get one. Maybe.” (Y/n) said as she opened her eyes and smiled..readjusting herself…that's when he saw the hoodie he had left behind at the shop on her tiny frame…A small smile spread across lando’s face but he decided not to confront it…He also saw something else…a book with a girl standing and a guy in a racing suit standing on the cover page of the book…the spine of the book had tiny checkered flags on it… “Wait. Wait, go back.” He said to (Y/n) who grew confused and looked at him a bit weirdly… “Go back where?” she asked confusion lacing her voice…Lando leaned a bit into the camera before he let his lips speak the words that his brain framed…

“On your bed. What is that? That red and white book.” (Y/n) glances over her shoulder, then immediately turns back, her face blank. “Nope. Not important.” She says as she tries to change the topic…“Oh, it's very important now.” (Y/n) sighed, throwing her head back dramatically as she accepted defeat..“Fine. It’s called ‘To The Finish Line’.” (Y/n) grumbled out as she pulled the strings of the hood to hide her face…

“Sounds suspiciously F1-related.” Lando said out loud…“Maybe.” “Romance?” (Y/n) averted her gaze as she sighed and put the candle off “Would it kill you to believe I’m well-rounded?” “Not at all. But it is incredibly hard to imagine you reading a book where the lead guy probably says something like ‘my heart races faster than my car’.” (Y/n) bursts out laughing as Lando completes the sentence…her smiling…it pult a smile on his face by default as if it was just what his duty was…to make her smile…

“Okay that was exactly the vibe, but listen—it’s not that cheesy. It’s about this driver who kind of loses himself in the pressure and this girl who helps him remember why he started in the first place.”  Lando’s mind spirals as he hears her say that…

Wait, isn't that like us? He wanted to say…but just an “Oh” came out of his mouth…(Y/n)’s voice softened as she looked at the book holding it in her hands “Yeah. So… maybe I got attached. Sue me.”...

Lando quietly eyed her as he muttered…“You always pick the things that matter to you. Even if they look small.” There was a silent pause as he laid on his back…phone angled to face the ceiling…“You think you can talk me to sleep?” His heavy voice mumbles out… “Only if you promise not to drool mid-call.” (Y/n) smiles softly…and starts humming softly as she starts knitting…something about it was so calming…Lando couldn't place his finger on it…Was it her humming or the fact that she would stay on call with him till he fell asleep…it was just safe and he felt…accepted…

Sleep nearly dawns on him…as she sleepy groans out some words to her… “It's not fair you know? You are all over there literally across the world…and I'd still win the damn race just to see you smile…” (Y/n) smiled softly looking at him… “Lan sleep…you need it…” Lando rubbed his face as he finally spoke up… “Text me after FP1…okay?” “Always…” and the line went dead as Lando's black screen stared at him…something struck him…before sleep could dawn on him…he opened google and typed in the book’s name carefully…

To The Finish Line – Paperback

He presses 'Order'. Just to know, he tells himself. Just to see what she sees.

The sky outside was still dark, just starting to blue. (Y/n) sat curled up on the couch with her blanket wrapping her body as the post-FP2 recap played on the TV. Her phone buzzed in her lap. She blinks at the screen.

It’s Lando. Video call. 

She answers, voice raspy with exhaustion and a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Well look who finally remembered his biggest fan.” She covered her face as she yawned before smiling at him..“You’re awake?” Lando smiled at her as he unlocked the door of his hotel room…He put the card in the holder as he set his phone on the stand… “I never slept, genius. Stayed up to watch both sessions. You crushed it.” (Y/n) smiled…It was genuine…her voice had pride in it and Lando could perfectly sense it…A smile ghosted Lando's lips as she smiled at him while her eyes were already dropping from the lack of sleep in her system… “Did I now?” Lando said as he fiddled with the hem of his hoodie…there was a soft insecure feeling in his voice…after all he had faltered his position in FP2…finishing in p2 after he had just gotten p1 in FP1…he felt less somehow…and he couldn't place a finger on exactly where he felt the pain…It felt like it was divided in the heart and brain… (Y/n) sensed the uncomfortable silence as Lando zoned out…she cleared her throat before letting the words fall off her lips “You did. P1 and P2? Not too bad for someone who couldn’t sleep last night.” Lando let a sarcastic laugh fall off his lips… “but I still faltered…didn’t I?” (Y/n)’s eyes softened even more if that was possible…she smiled softly at him… “Lando it's free practice…you did really good…if you don't want to hear it from yourself…hear it from me at least…you did really good..” Lando’s mind grew quieter as she said that…a sense of comfort dawning on him filling him with reassurance…“Seriously though” a soft sigh left his lips “… thank you. For staying up. For watching. It means more than I can say.” (Y/n) smiled as she nodded…“I don’t miss the things that matter.” His eyes suddenly lock on her as she closes her eyes and tries not to fall asleep…he just sits there…He watches her — hair messy, eyes tired, hoodie hanging off her shoulder. A version of her he’s never seen in person, but it makes his chest feel oddly warm. A chuckle leaves his throat…“You’re gonna pass out, huh?” “Probably in the next 5 minutes. But you had to know I was proud of you before that happened.” (Y/n) smiled as she completed the sentence… “and…Lan just know that I always will be…proud…of you…”

“Go hydrate. Stretch. Eat carbs. Whatever it is you drivers do after a good day.” (Y/n) chuckled out as she sank into her pillows…Lando eyed her face and smiled as he rested his head on his hand…“I’ll do all of that. After I look at you for another ten seconds.” “Flirt.” (Y/n) said, chuckling as she looked away, a faint blush on her cheeks… “Sleepy flirt. Big difference.” Lando smiled as he said that and exhaled deeply “Go to sleep Headphone girl…you need it..” (Y/n) rolled her eyes affectionately… “I don't use my headphones that much…” Lando chuckled as she shook his head “I almost ran over you that day…” “Point.” “yea..” (Y/n) smiled softly as she sighed… “Fine…goodnight lan I’m gonna go get some sleep now…” Lando smiled as the line went dead and a black screen stared back at him…he sighed softly as he looked to his side…the paperback book lying on his desk… It's time to see what she sees in this…

Lando sat by the window, legs pulled up to the chair. The book lay open on his lap. A highlighter uncapped next to it. He’s re..read a passage for the third time, brows slightly furrowed. “He didn’t know when it started — the fear that he wasn’t enough anymore. But she never treated him like he had to prove anything. And that’s when he started breathing again.”Lando closed the book slowly, fingers resting on the page. He looked toward his phone on the table, her name still on top from last night’s call. He’s torn…torn between his brain and heart…his brain kept muttering at him to forget it and just go to sleep while his heart practically begs the brian for permission to let him move his hands and grab the phone and text her…

His brain gives up…hands rush to the phone before he types in a text…

LAN: Thankyou for accepting me just how I am…Being around you..it..it makes me feel like I…like I can just breathe…without having to worry about anything.

No no no no no what am I thinking… His finger hovers over the backspace key before he taps it vigorously and again a blank text bar lay staring up at him from his phone…

LAN: you’re kind of unfairly good at making my head quieter.

He deletes that too… Eventually, he sets the phone down without sending anything. Just sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before muttering… “Jesus. I’m so far gone.”

The garage was waking up — crew members moving with precision, equipment being calibrated, the low hum of focus in the air. But Lando's world was quieter. Slower. 

He stood by the back wall, race suit hanging from his waist, gloves in hand. A bottle of water forgotten by his side. His eyes were on the floor — not the car…His brain was screaming at him right now…He felt numb…just numb… “Yesterday was good. P1 and P2. I should be happy.”

He says to himself as he rolls his shoulder, stretching out tension that’s been sitting there since sunrise. “So why does it feel like if I’m not better today, it all counts for nothing?”One of the engineers waves a note at him — some tweak on balance, maybe tire pressures. He nods but barely hears it..He knows what the data says. He knows what the lap times were. But logic rarely speaks louder than the voice inside him that was eating him alive…

“What if it slips? What if that wasn’t real? What if yesterday was the peak and now it’s the drop?”

He picked up his helmet and ran a thumb over the top. The design felt familiar. Grounding. He closed his eyes for a second longer than he needed to.

The garage was still busy. Still loud. But the noise doesn’t touch him.

“It’s just free practice. But why does it feel like a test I already failed?”

He hears a buzz from his phone kept beside him…he lets his hand find their way to the phone and turns on the screen as a text notification stares at him..

(N/n): Watching. Go drive like you mean it.

His mouth lifts slightly. Just barely. But it’s enough to remind him he’s not doing this alone.

Helmet on. Visor down. He walks toward the car, heartbeat in his throat — not from fear, but from the weight of expectation he hasn’t figured out how to let go.

The alarm rang as 2:30 AM displayed on (Y/n)’s phone as she pushed the blanket off of herself…she groggily made her way to the living room as she turned the tv on and sat down…(Y/n) puts it on multiviewer as she looks at the camera that is pointed at lando as she looks at him…a soft smile forming but soon disappearing after she ready his body language… She looked at him standing in the garage, head down, hand braced on the edge of the car like he’s holding something invisible back… “He’s quiet. Too quiet. Not in that usual pre-session way either.”

She thought mentally…She leaned closer to the screen like proximity could help her read his thoughts better. The commentator's voice drones on about tire choices and balance tweaks, but she wasn’t listening. She watched the way Lando hesitated just before getting in the car. The way his jaw locked for a second too long…

“He’s spiraling a little, isn’t he?” she mutters to herself as she picks at the hem of her shirt…The camera switches angles — now he’s got the helmet on, but that didn’t fool her. His posture was too still. Not focused — frozen. And she knew exactly what that meant

“God, I wish I could just be there. Shake him a little. Tell him to breathe. Tell him yesterday didn’t vanish just because today feels heavier.”

Her hand finds her phone before her brain finishes the thought. She types faster than she realizes.

(N/n): Watching. Go drive like you mean it.

She sent it before she could second-guess. Then set the phone down, still staring at the screen as the session begins.

And when his car finally rolled out of the garage — smooth, clean, no hesitation — she exhaled, the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

Her lips curve into a tiny smile. A hopeful one…one she wished he could see…just to feel reassured if that was possible… “There he is.” She mutters as seriousness dawns on her while she watches the grid driving…praying his mind didn’t play tricks on him…

Lando sat on a bench, still in his race suit, as he tried to avoid his phone which was set down beside him. His helmet was still on him, visor open, reflecting the quiet frustration in his eyes. His phone buzzed. He doesn't even look at the name before swiping to answer the call…

“Didn’t even get a ‘hello’? What if I was someone else?” (Y/n)’s voice rang across the phone as she held it under her ear while she snuggled up to the couch

“Then I guess someone else would’ve had to tell me P10 isn’t the end of the world.” Lando mumbled almost like he was saying that to himself mentally…A deep sigh was heard on the other side of the call…“So that’s what this call is.” “That obvious?” “Crystal clear. Lando, it’s free practice. you were trying things. You know this.” “Yeah, but—” “No. No ‘but.’ Listen to me. You are going to go out there, put that helmet on, and crush quali. Because you always come alive when it counts.”

A silence fell on the call as Lando’s breath normalized again…(Y/n)’s voice continued as her tone turned softer…“And even if something goes wrong… you’re still you. You’re not measured by a single lap.”

Lando leaned back, letting his back hit the wall as his head tipped towards the ceiling…“Why do you always know exactly what to say?” he murmured as she smiled softly before replying…“Because I pay attention.”

“Will you watch it live?” Lando said as he looked back down and chewed his lip…“Already called off of work… Kilye didn’t bat an eye when I said it was about you… You’re stuck with me.” A smile finally laced Lando’s lips…“Good. I drive better when I know you’re there.” “Then go give me something worth yelling about.”

 “Copy that.”

He ended the call, and in the sudden quiet of the driver room, he exhaled. The weight on his shoulders felt lighter now…

The TV glowed in the dark room, casting soft light across the cluttered coffee table — empty mugs, half-eaten snacks... She was curled up on the couch, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, phone clutched tightly… “Through this time the home favorite looking to bring the crowd to their feet there's never been an Australian driver on pole position for the Australian Grand Prix can he change all of that” The commentator yells out as the screen shows Oscar's lap…(Y/n)’s hand subconsciously grips the phone in her hand harder… “he can! With a monster final sector…” the speakers of her TV let the voice echo as (Y/n) chews her lip… “Over to you Lando Norris…Over to you Max Verstappen and George Russell…”

He still has time…(Y/n) thinks as she leans closer to the screen… “Can Norris take it away?!?” (Y/n)’s hands clasp around her phone even harder…that was going to leave a mark… Her breath almost stops as she finally hears the words she most desperately wanted to hear… “He Does..!” A wide grin spreads across (Y/n)’s face..

“YES! THAT’S MY BOY! That’s what I told you, didn’t I?!” She jumps off the couch, nearly tripping over her blanket. 

“Oh my god, he did it. He actually—” His name tops the board as she smiled softly...

A few minutes later the recap starts to show when her phone buzzes — FaceTime. She dives for it…

Lando’s still in his suit, flushed from adrenaline, hair damp under the cap, but grinning wider than he has in weeks.

“pole?! Are you kidding me right now?!” (Y/n) smiled as she let out the breath she had been holding for so long…“I told you I drive better when you’re watching.” Lando laughs almost breathlessly until he sits down…

“I need, like, five minutes to calm down. I think I scared my neighbors.” (Y/n) laughed as she let the words out…“I’m serious, (Y/n). I heard your voice the whole damn lap.” Lando says a soft smile on both their faces as (Y/n) reassures him “you earned it…I’m so proud of you..” “I think that’s the only thing I needed to hear.” Lando smiles as silence takes over…not an uncomfortable one…a silence where no one spoke but their worlds were in a perfect sync…

“Go celebrate. I’ll be here… text me when you're free okay?” (Y/n) let it out before she smiled and let the line die…

The days bleed into each other as (Y/n) finds herself hyping Lando up every single race weekend…They don't even realize when Australia bleeds into China and when China bleeds into japan….

Shanghai was nearly perfect…Lando was sharp, focused, and clean. He brings it home P2. On the podium, as the champagne mists the air…as soon as he got down he checked his phone. One message sits at the top:

(N/n): I screamed. Again. My neighbors think I’m unwell. P2, baby! Let’s GO.

He smiles. The kind that slips out even when he’s trying to stay cool for the cameras…

Suzuka was a bit wet…Overnight rain was making it harder but…Lando finished Q3 with a flying lap but still ended behind max — P2 in the race again... As he sips water in the driver’s room, helmet still half-off, his phone rings. (Y/n)’s voice is faintly crackly, half-teasing.

“You’re getting faster by the week. It’s honestly annoying.” (Y/n) chuckled, faking her annoyance as Lando smiled “You know you love it”

“I do.” (Y/n)’s voice rings before they cut the call so Lando could get to the podium…

Japan soon bled into Bahrain as Lando picked up his phone opening her texts…

Lan: Feeling a bit off.

(N/n): It’s okay to feel off. Just don’t let it decide the race.

Lan: Can I call you?

(Y/n)’s phone rings as she takes it and puts it to her ears…“Lan you Know that you don't have to be perfect all the time right?” She lets the words fall out of her mouth softly as she says it in the most genuine way possible…“Just don’t want to disappoint.” “Impossible. You could finish 18th and I’d still think you’re the best driver out there.” “…You don’t make it easy to stay nervous.”

(Y/n) smiled as the line went dead indicating that he had to get ready for the race…

 It was another solid finish. P3. Lando tapped his heart just before the podium — a small, private motion. No one asks, but it meant something. Later that night, Lando sat in front of his screen..(Y/n) on the other side as she planned out the flower arrangement for Kylie's birthday bouquet…

“That one was for you.” Lando let his mouth speak the words as she looked at him with a smile growing on her lips…“Lan…” “I’m not where I want to be yet. But I’m getting there. Thanks for keeping me grounded.” “Anytime. Keep chasing.”

And just like that, The Saudi Arabia race weekend was just around the corner…

(Y/n)’s phone rang across her table as she looked at the caller Id…Lando…a smile laced her lips as she slowly took her phone in her hands…accepting the call… “Hey…” she let the greeting fall off her lips…it had become a routine now… “Hey…” Lando returned but something was lacking…it was different…worry painted raina’s face as she spoke.. “You okay?” “Nervous. The car doesn’t feel right.” (Y/n) let out a soft sigh as she smiled… “Just drive it like it’s stolen and I’m waiting at the finish line with food.” Lando chuckled as he looked at his car from afar.. “That was your motivational speech?” “Want the long version?” “always…”

Jeddah. The walls are close. Q3’s almost done when Lando pushes too much. There was an oversteer, and the car slams the barrier. Red flag. Silence in the commentary box. “Are you okay?” asks his race engineer on the team radio… “Yea im good…fucking idiot”

Later that night Lando resorted to calling (Y/n) without a second thought…he needed her…god it wasn't a joke he seriously needed her…

The door clicks open. He tossed the lanyard on the table, kicked off his shoes. He barely sat down before he grabbed his phone and called her…

As soon as the line connected…there wasn’t any ‘hello’ (Y/n) went straight to the point… “Hey. Stop.” “Stop what?” Lando groaned as he sank to the bed…“Calling yourself an idiot like it’s your full-time job.” Lando sighed as he picked on the sheet of the bed…He exhaled. Silent for a moment. He was not crying, but he was close to breaking in the way tired people do…

“I let the team down. I let you down…” (Y/n) looked at him…as she sighed  “You made a mistake. You're allowed. You don’t have to carry the whole damn team by yourself. Lan you are human…and…and you could never let me down…we both know that…I’m so proud you pulled upto Q3…” He stared at the screen. Then nodded. Quietly… “Thanks…”

The next day He clawed back what he could. Smart, gritty drive. P4 in the end. Not a podium, but a message. After the race…

(N/n): You didn’t let anyone down.

Lan: Still kinda wish you were here.

(N/n): Me too.

Lan: Still I’mSorry.

(N/n): For what? You fought. That’s all that matters.

Lan: I just wanted to give you something to be proud of.

(N/n): You already do. You always do Lan…

Next on the race calendar was Miami… The sun hid behind the clouds. Lando's drive is smart, surgical — the fights for overtakes were entertaining but also a bit overwhelming…The camera catches him smiling into his helmet as he parks up.

(Y/n), back home, ice cream in hand, smiles at the TV feeling mental content…she had been working on controlling the emotions because at this point…her neighbours would get her turned in for yelling too much every weekend…She let her hands find her phone after the podium as she called him… “I’m best friends with a podium merchant.” “You’re best friends with a future world champ.” “I like your version better.”

The check-ins became slow, but not in a bad way. It was a rhythm now. Predictable in the way the best things were. Mid-week memes. Late night “what if” texts. Photos of his helmet. Snapshots of her lunch. Calls that faded into yawns and goodnights. A quiet, steady beat pulsing under everything — unspoken and obvious.

The city hums with warmth. (Y/n) steps out of her familiar corner bookstore, tote bag slung over her shoulder, thumb already flipping through a page. She looks up—and stops.

Lando’s leaning against the lamppost outside. Hoodie on, cap backwards, a small bakery bag in hand. The same crooked smile. The one that always made her feel like she was in on a secret.

She doesn’t think. Just walks straight into him. Her arms wrap around him so tightly, the tote bag slips off her shoulder. His hands find their way around her waist as they wrap around her tiny frame…“I figured this was the best place to find you.” (Y/n) pulled back a bit shocked…“Lan… What—what are you doing here? Race weekend is like 2 weeks apart…” She looked up at him, still a bit confused…“Told the team I needed some London air. They asked why. I said, ‘Got a bookstore girl I need to see.’” 

A chuckle escaped (Y/n)’s lips as she looked up at him  “You’re such an idiot.”  “Missed you too….headphone girl…”

“Oh my god…you have dark circles..” Lando noticed… “Some idiot keeps making me stay up to watch him chase podiums at 3AM.” Lando laughs softly at that before speaking… “…Hope he’s worth it.” She looks up at him. He looks down at her. The summer hums louder around them. “Yeah. He really is…” It was a sleepy Thursday. Sunlight poured in through the old windows, dust dancing in the beams. The store smelled like coffee, old pages, and wildflowers. (Y/n) is tucked behind the counter, humming softly while sorting out receipts...and watering the bouquets 

The bell above the door rings. She looked up, already smiling when she saw it’s him…she faked a tone of annoyance as she smiled…“Do you live here now?” A grin spread across Lando’s face “Would that be a problem?” “Only if you don’t spend 15 minutes after closing the shop to have coffee with me..” “You don’t have to ask...and I brought the cookies...”

She rolled her eyes…a smile on her face… but her hand was already reaching for the bag. They settle behind the counter, quietly sharing cookies like it’s their own little corner of the universe.

A few minutes later, Kylie walks in from the back, sees them both tucked in behind the desk, and stops. “Well, well. If it isn’t Mr. Fast and Curious.” The voice made Lando sit up straight a bit as he fixed his hair…nervousness taking over him…“Hi. Uh—Lando.” He reintroduced himself to kylie… 

“Oh, I know. You’re the guy who’s always on (Y/n)’s phone.” She says as she hands him a cup of coffee…“On the house. And take a bouquet before you go. (Y/n) says the red gardenias remind her of you...” (Y/n)’s face turns a bright shade of red as she tried to stop Kylie from exposing what she had told her about a week ago..“Kylie—”“Shush. Let me be romantic on your behalf.” Kylie waved her hand in protest as she walked back inside to sort out the inventory duties for the next day…

She winks and disappears again, leaving them both flustered.

The store was quieter now. Lando was still there. Sitting on a stool behind the counter, flipping through a random poetry book. (Y/n) was beside him, arms crossed on the counter, eyes tired but honest. “You okay?” (Y/n) silently stares at the beams of sunlight before nodding… “Yeah. Just… sometimes being around you is so easy, it scares me.” He genuinely looks at her as she continues…

“Do you ever feel like you’re constantly earning your place in people’s lives? Like—if you’re not useful, funny, pretty, low-maintenance… they’ll leave?” (Y/n) said as she let her fingers wrap a spare piece of ribbon on them…

 “…Yeah. I get that.” Lando looked at her as he shut the book and pushed it aside, turning to face her… 

“My last relationship—he cheated on me. With my best friend. Told me I was too much. And not enough. Somehow both.” Lando doesn’t speak…he just couldn’t…How could someone not see her…the way he saw her…precious…lovable…his everything… Lando gently placed his hand near hers on the counter. Not touching, just near. Enough to say: ‘I’m here’ 

“Since then….I’ve just been trying to prove that I deserve to stay. In anyone’s life. Even yours.” A blanket of silence fell over then until Lando decided to remove it…“You don’t have to earn your place with me, (N/n). You already have it…”

The hotel room is still. A low amber glow spills from a lamp in the corner. Lando sits on the edge of the bed, hoodie sleeves bunched around his wrists, hair damp from a quick shower. His phone buzzes beside him — muted this time — but he doesn’t check it.

Instead, he reaches for something tucked deep in the lining of his suitcase. A book. The spine creased, the corners softened from travel. He bought it in Australia. Ordered it in the most impulsive way possible…

He continues reading as he reaches the middle of the book…the part.A race. The stakes are high. But it’s not the win that matters.

“He didn’t fight for the win because he needed glory. He fought because someone, somewhere, believed he could — and that made him want to be more than just fast. It made him want to be good.”

And suddenly it’s her — standing behind the counter, sleeves pulled over her palms, pretending to be annoyed when he rearranged the display alphabetically. Her voice when she told him about the ones who left. The look in her eyes when she said she always had to earn her space in someone’s world.

And yet she stood there anyway.

With him.

Not just for the wins. Not for the cameras. But in the quiet spaces in between.

He leans back against the pillows, book resting open across his chest, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if the room itself might give him an answer.

But he already knows it.

“She never asked for anything. Not once. And somehow… she still deserves everything.” There’s no plan yet. No grand gesture. But somewhere in the center of his chest, something starts to settle.

He doesn’t want to win for headlines. Or podiums. Or legacy.

He wants to win for the girl who stayed….

The next day…The shop was quiet, late golden sun bled through the windows. Raina was behind the counter, flipping through a new book she had bought when her phone buzzed…she let her hand find its way to her phone not looking away from the book…she finally looked at her phone and read the text notification

Lan: So… home race. Silverstone. I’ve got an extra pass. For my favourite book snob.

She smiled, biting back a laugh. She unlocked her phone and opened the text…as she quickly typed in a response…

(N/n): Lando, are you seriously trying to lure me with race fuel and overpriced chips?

Lan: Absolutely. I’m also offering front-row seats to me, losing my mind in quali.

(N/n): Tempting.

Lando: (N/n) Come. Please?

Her fingers hover over her keyboard as she finally gives in and accepts it with a smile….

Raina: Okay. I’ll be there….

The days pass by as (Y/n)  counts her days to the grand prix…Lando would occasionally visit her in the shop…and they both had noticed how Kylie had been missing in action for the last 2 days…(Y/n) had enough as finally She speaks up…

“Hey lan? Could you drive me to Kylie’s? I’m kind of getting worried at this point…” Without a hesitation Lando drops her off at Kylie's…But while he was driving to his hotel…his heart drops as he sees the text notification on his phone…

(N/n):  Kylie’s sick. Can’t come. I’m so sorry, Lan. Kill it for me anyway.

Lando sits on his hotel bed as he stared into the wall before laying down and falling asleep…he had a fp1 to worry about anyways…

Two days passed as (Y/n) got too busy taking care of Kylie…Lando was convinced at this point that she would not be attending…

“You should be with him…not me…” Kylie said as she let out a cough and looked up at (Y/n)…(Y/n) sat beside Kylie before sighing…“You need to be taken care of... Jesus, Ky, you’re burning up.”

Kylie gives her a look, groggy but pointed. “(Y/n)… seriously. Go. I’ll be fine.” Kylie tried to convince her…“Not a chance.” “(Y/n).”

She said it like she was summoning her. Like she was asking her to listen, for real.

“You’ve always done this thing, you know? Dropping everything for people. Even the ones who didn’t deserve it.”(Y/n) looked away. Outside the window as she refused to accept it…“But this? This is Lando. And he does.” (Y/n) sighed as she listened quietly…before mumbling…“It’s just a race.” Kylie looks at her firmly…“No, it’s not. Not to him. And definitely not when it’s you he wanted there.”

“I already texted him… Told him I couldn’t come.” Kylie groaned as she mumbled... “You idiot.” She took (Y/n)’s hand in hers as (Y/n) spoke…“I didn’t want to let you down.” Kylie softly looked at her as she spoke… “You never let me down. But (Y/n) — don’t you get it? That boy looks at you like… like you’re the win he never knew he was allowed to chase.”...Silence dawns upon (Y/n) as she blinks slowly. Kylie whispers as (Y/n) looks into her eyes…“Go. Before you start convincing yourself he doesn’t care. Because I promise you — he really, really does.”

It was buzzing. Crowds. Cameras. Fans. Mechanics. Lando stood near the garage, helmet in hand, in full race suit. His usual energy was off. A little flat. He checks his phone again. Nothing.

Until—

“You look like you’re about to fight someone.”

He spins.  There she was…Lanyard around her neck, hoodie tucked into her jeans, windblown and out of breath. And smiling.

Lando’s breath catches. Then without even thinking, he pulls her in — arms around her, tight, grounded, like she’s the only thing real in this entire buzzing paddock.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” “Kylie changed my mind.” “God, I missed you.” “You saw me three days ago.” “Not like this.”

They stood there, forehead to shoulder, in the middle of the chaos, while the team let them be for just a moment.

She watched from the McLaren garage, hands clenched, heart in her throat. The energy was electric. Lando was in the lead. Lap after Lap, he’s flawless — focused, feral, faster than she’s ever seen him.

Lap 50 of 52. A Red Bull looms in his mirrors — relentless.

Then — the DRS zone.

The move comes clean and brutal. Lando defends. He tries. But the Red Bull slices through with three corners to go.

He finishes P2.

He got out of the car. Helmet off. Cameras flash. The crowd roared. His name was everywhere. But he barely lifted his eyes. He walked to her. Slowly. Like the world is a little heavier than it was before.

(Y/n) grinned up at him…“P2! Lan, that was—insane. Everyone’s freaking out!..He didn’t smile. Didn’t meet her eyes. (Y/n) sensed the change in his body language as her tone softened…“Hey. What’s wrong?”

He swallowed hard, as he replied in an almost frustrated tone…“I wanted to win that race.” (Y/n) flinched a bit due to his tone being unpredictable..“…Lando, you nearly did. That was—” He cut her off…his voice a bit louder and desperate… “No. I didn’t want to win it for the team. Or for the media. I wanted to win it for you.”

She stared at him as her heart caught in her chest. Lando’s voice broke softly as he tried to speak…

 “You showed up. After everything. After I thought you wouldn’t. And I thought… I thought if I won, maybe you’d see what you mean to me. Like it would say it without me needing to say it. I don’t know.”

She stepped forward. Quietly. her eyes softened as she held his hand. “Lando…” He looks away, jaw clenched, ashamed. She pulled him in — arms around him. Tight. Reassuring. Unshakable. She softly spoke into his ear…“You don’t have to prove anything to me. Not now. Not ever.”He exhaled — like something inside him finally gave up the fight.

“You’re already everything I’d ever cheer for.”

They stay there, pressed together in the middle of the storm. Around them, the paddock whirled. But inside this hug, there was quiet. Steady. Real.

Because he didn’t win the race.

But maybe… for once… he didn’t have to…

The sun dipped behind the trees as Lando and (Y/n) pulled into Kylie’s quiet neighborhood. The Post race buzz faded into calm. The car still hummed softly beneath them as Lando glanced at her — her legs folded up in the passenger seat, hoodie sleeves pushed over her hands, the P2 cap now backwards on her head.

“Wearing that like you earned it.” “I carried you emotionally through half the season. I deserve it.”

He laughed, but there was something softer in the way he looked at her. She didn’t notice. Or pretended not to. Kylie opened the door…blanket slung over one shoulder and tea in hand. 

“About time. You made him podium just to get out of bringing soup, didn’t you?” (Y/n) hugged her tight. Kylie groaned like it hurts — and it probably does — but she still pulled (Y/n)in harder. “Don’t get sappy, I’m just here to drop you your disgusting peppermint tea.” Kylie waved her off.“Actually, could you run to the corner shop? I forgot milk and you’re faster than the average dying woman.” Kylie said mischievously as she sat down on one of her chairs“Unbelievable.” (Y/n) mumbled knowing exactly what Kylie was planning… “Don’t scare him while I’m gone.” Kylie raises her eyebrows in mock innocence. (Y/n) disappears out the door.

Lando stands awkwardly nearby, unsure whether to sit or bolt. “Relax. I’m not gonna bite.” Kylie chuckles as she turns to him, motioning him to sit…Lando takes a seat opposite to her and lets a chuckle out before stopping and clearing his throat... 

“So…What do you mean to her?”

Lando blinks, almost confused as he stares at Kylie for some sort of explanation to what she just said…“What?” He blurts out a confused expression painted over his face…

“(Y/n). You just ran a whole race like she was the finish line. You’re here. You’re always here. So I’m asking — what do you mean to her? And more importantly — what does she mean to you?”

He shifts, kylie had caught him off guard…awfully awkwardly…and exposingly..he sighed as he looked at her…“I don’t… I don’t think she knows.” Kylie shakes her head as she disagrees... “That’s not what I asked.”

He looks down at his hands. Then out the window. Then he just lets his heart accept it and speak over his brain….“She’s... she’s the first person who never saw me as just the guy in the car. She listens like I’m more than the stats or the wins. And when things go wrong, she doesn’t flinch. She just—stays.” 

Kylie smiles as she drinks her tea and looks at him approvingly… “I'm happy that you finally decided to accept it instead of beating around the bush like you have been doing since the first day I saw you with her…” Lando chuckled as he looked away while Kylie continued…“She’s always had to earn her place. With friends. With that trashfire of an ex. She’s always afraid of being too much. Or not enough.”

Lando swallows. Hard.

“She doesn’t know how much she means to you. And that girl—she’s smart, but she’s oblivious. So if she means something to you, and I mean really means something—say it. Because she’s not going to see it unless you put it right in front of her face.”

He’s quiet. But his jaw’s tight. And behind the silence is something certain…“She means everything.” He blurts out before he even realizes it himself…his eyes widen as he realizes what he had just said as he lets it sink in…

She means everything… She means everything… She means everything…

Kylie studies him for a long moment. Then smiles — small, knowing, satisfied…“Good.” Kylie smiles…

The sound of the knob of the door is heard... (Y/n)’s back. Lando doesn’t move.

But something in him has…

The car hums softly as Lando drives through the quiet streets of London. The world outside is dim and washed in rainlight, but inside the car, there's an unspoken energy — a new rhythm between them, something that's been building.

(Y/n) stared out the window as she sighed…“You sure you’re okay?” She turned her head facing Lando who had his eyes on the road…“Yeah, just... one of those days.” A grin plastered (Y/n)’s face as she chuckled…“Kylie grilled you, didn’t she?” A small chuckle left Lando’s throat as he looked at her from the corner of his eye while still keeping his focus on the road…“Yeah, well... Kylie's pretty good at making me spill my guts. I didn’t even see it coming.”

“She just... wants to make sure you're good for me. You know?” (Y/n) said as she sighed… “Yeah. I get it.”

The quiet settles between them again, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s something... familiar. Different…It was as if even if no one spoke they would stay next to each other…just in the presence of each other…

Suddenly (Y/n) turned to face him…“You know, you don’t have to always prove yourself.”...Her words catch him off guard. He looks at her, surprised by the sudden honesty in her voice.

“Prove myself?” He asked…“Yeah. You’re always running after something... like you’re trying to show people you’re worthy. But you don’t need to do that. Not for me.”

Her words hit deeper than he expects. For a moment, he’s silent, processing what she’s saying. He’s always running. Always trying to be better, to do more. But with her? It feels different.

He quietly mutters to himself…“Maybe I want to prove something to myself. Not just the team, or anyone else.”

She’s quiet for a beat. Then, she glances at him, a little smile tugging at her lips. “I guess we’re both trying to figure that out, huh?”  A smile ghosts Lando’s lips…“Yeah. Seems like it.”

Lando parked the car outside her building, the engine purring to a stop. They sat there for a moment, neither rushing to get out. The air between them felt charged. They shared a silence, but it was of the comfortable kind.

(Y/n) finally took a deep breath as she took off her seatbelt…“Thanks for the ride.”...Lando nodded, his hands lingering on the wheel for a moment longer than necessary. He didn’t want this to end. Not yet. “Anytime…Let me walk you…” He looked at her…his eyes showed sincerity…but also of wanting to stay with her…he felt anchored whenever he was with her…she was his everything…

They both got out of the car and walked towards the entrance of her building. As they reached the door, (Y/n) stopped, turning to face him. There was something different in her eyes now — something unspoken, a spark neither of them knew how to put into words.

He stood there for a second, his thoughts swirling. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to say it out loud — how much she meant to him. How everything had changed, how he was not sure he could keep pretending like it was all just a friendship. But he doesn’t. He can't. He caught his tongue at the last second.

(Y/n) pulled her bag over her shoulder as she smiled up at him softly… “Thanks for the ride…” She smiled softly and he saw her…she was looking up at him…like she was searching his face for something…maybe to get a hint of what he was thinking of…but it was there…in the way he stood…and the way he looked at her…He opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, he just smiled a little, his gaze softening… “You’ll be okay?” He asked…hoping she would ask him to spend more time with her…but they both knew that they should call it a day…(Y/n) smiled as she sighed softly…“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

She turned to head into her apartment, but as she reached for the door handle, she paused and looked back one last time. Lando’s standing in front of her, his back to the door, watching her.

The door clicked open. (Y/n) stepped inside, but before she fully closed it, she leaned against it for a moment. Her heart’s pounding — she was not sure why. She didn't know if it’s the way Lando’s eyes followed her or if it’s the conversation, the weight of it, that’s left her hanging in the air.

On the other side of the door, Lando leaned back against it too, eyes closed. His heart pounded in his chest. He was still standing there, thinking about how everything had shifted. How much she mattered to him. But he didn’t know how to say it yet. How to make it real.

And so, for the first time, they both sat with the unsaid. (Y/n) finally sighs as she makes her way to her room and calls it a night…

The next day…It was delivery day.

Buckets clattered onto the pavement, packed with sunflowers, peonies, and lilies. The air smelled like spring and sleep. Lando was there, hoodie clinging to his frame after a morning run, sleeves shoved up, eyes squinting in the sun…after he begged Kylie to let him help…(Y/n) fumbled with the keys, still groggy, she teased him as he nearly tripped over a rogue bucket…“You’re useless with your center of gravity messed up.” “And yet—somehow still more helpful than your cardboard arms.” (Y/n) chuckled as she rolled her eyes before finally getting the lock and opening the door of the shop letting them in…Then — mid-lift, breath shallow, words low and too easy — he said it…“I’d carry your entire life if you asked.”

Silence. (Y/n) turned around and looked at him as she let her hands rest on her waist…The world doesn’t stop, but it slows. Lando blinked like he didn’t mean to say it aloud. “…what?” (Y/n) questioned him as she looked at him…Lando cleared his throat as he looked away trying his hardest to convince her not to push at what he just said… “Nothing. Forget it.”

And indeed she doesn’t answer. Doesn’t push. But something had cracked open between them — not broken, just… unguarded. New…They lift the rest in silence. Side by side. The kind of silence that buzzes with everything left unsaid. From the side door, Kylie appeared… steaming coffee in one hand, sunglasses perched in her messy hair… She watched the two of them, their shoulders brushed as they moved inside, the atmosphere still humming.

She took a slow sip as she smiled to herself…“You know what? I’m taking the morning off.” She said as (Y/n) blinked at her confused… “Wait—what?”...“Shop’s in good hands.”

Kylie disappears down the sidewalk, chuckling to herself… Inside the shop, the air smelled like fresh lilies and unsaid feelings…Neither of them dared to speak about it — not yet…But both of them felt it. Something changed…

That day…(Y/n) closed the shop early…They both walked to a nearby corner bookstore and started walking through the aisles of the different genres… (Y/n) found a vintage copy of a poetry book that she had been hunting for…a soft cover, worn spine, her eyes lit up like the first time he saw her talk about flowers…She walked to the counter, book and card in hand...But Lando swooped in infront of her…“Lan…I’ve got it. Don’t even think about—” She tries to say as Lando cuts her off by tapping his card on the machine…“Too late.” A groan erupted from (Y/n)’s throat as she mumbled…“Lando—come on. I can buy my own books.”...“Yeah. But I wanted to.” She stared at him, part shocked and part scared of becoming a burden... and he just shrugs, like it’s not a big deal…

Later, outside the shop, she reaches into his jacket pocket to pull out a receipt — and a small, worn photo flutters out of his wallet…It’s of her.

Tied-up apron. Sleeves rolled. Head bowed slightly as she arranged a bouquet. Sunlight haloed her hair…(Y/n) picked it up, stunned…“You kept this?” her voice came out almost as a whisper…

A soft smile ghosted Lando’s face as he said…“It’s my lucky charm.”...Her voice catches..“Why that one?”...“Because you look like peace. And I need that.”

She didn’t respond. She just folded the photo back carefully and handed it to him like it’s something sacred…And that’s the moment she realized — It wasn’t just about the book. It has never been just about the book…

They both ended up walking to (Y/n)’s apartment…She unlocked the door and let them both in… “shit…I forgot all about the clothes…” she mumbled… “sit here…I’ll go fold them up first…” “No..I want to help…” Lando looks at her as he stands up… “Please…” He lets out as (Y/n) smiles, folding in and letting him follow her to her bedroom… It had started to rain…Big, soaking drops on the windows. The kind of storm that made the world feel smaller… “You ready to get absolutely smoked at folding?” Lando grinned at her…(Y/n) chuckled as she looked at him the same mischievous way… “Please. You don’t even match your own socks.” “Fashion is subjective.”

The competition was absurd, messy, and full of laughter. She barely won. By a second. Maybe less….He started folding one of her hoodies — and stopped…It was her favorite. Worn. Soft. It smelled like her eucalyptus shampoo, like her space. He held it a moment too long.

 “You gonna cry over a hoodie, Norris?” (Y/n) teased him as she patted his back softly…He didn't answer. Instead he Just folded it with care, walked over to the shelf without asking, and tucked it in the exact right spot. Then folded the grey tassel blanket and draped it over the back of the couch. Right where it always goes…She watched him quietly…Because he knew where it all went…Because he knew her.

Later, the movie played in the background, rain still coming down — neither of them wanted to leave. The atmosphere was pretty cold as she brought out two blankets…offering one to him…he immediately denied…“Wanna just share?”...He didn’t wait for her to answer, just draped half of it over her. They sat, warm and quiet. A stupid rom-com played, forgotten…They don’t touch. Not really. Their backs were turned. Their hands, almost brushed…

(Y/n) fell asleep first…Hours later, he woke up and found her curled closer in her sleep, head nearly on his shoulder. His arm under her. Like it belonged there. He didn't move. He didn't have to. Because it felt like something that should never be interrupted…

The days almost bleed into each other as only three days are left…The countdown began... The British Grand Prix was long over. Lando's next one loomed over them indicating that he had to leave…and they would go back to (Y/n) pep talking to him every time on call before his practice sessions or quali or race day…

They don’t say it, but they both felt the weight of time. The weight of distance returning. The thought of going back to calls and text bubbles, instead of coffee and shared blankets.

And then Kylie called…

Lando showed up with a bag of groceries and a half-empty box of tea (Y/n) sweared by…Kylie was in sweats, hair in a messy bun. She let him in and nodded toward the couch…“She’s at the shop. I needed to talk to you alone.” She said before going and sitting cross-legged on the couch while Lando awkwardly paced in front of her, a nervous energy about him that didn't match his usual carefree charm… “Do you plan on wearing a hole in my rug, or are you gonna sit down?” Kylie said as she sipped on her cup of tea…

Lando sighed…flopping onto the edge of the couch, and ran a hand through his hair…“She’s just… she makes everything feel like it’s slowing down. Like the noise goes away.”

“You mean like peace?” Kylie said as she smiled gently…He nodded but couldn’t look up to meet her eyes yet…“Yeah. That.”

Kylie watched him as her voice softened…“You know, she thinks she’s easy to leave.” Lando looked up, startled by Kylie speaking suddenly…“She won’t say it out loud. But I see it. Every time you leave — she braces. Like she’s already preparing to be forgotten.”

He swallowed hard. That landed deeper than he expected…“I could never forget her.” Lando let it out like a whisper but Kylie heard it…“I know that. But does she?”

Silence.

“She thinks the people she loves always choose something else over her. Your next race. Her ex. Her old best friend. She’s wired herself to expect it.”

Lando clenched his jaw. The ache of her words settled in his chest.

“She matters, Lando. So much. But she’ll never say it. So if you feel something real, don’t leave her guessing.”

She paused and eyed him with a look that felt she was about to say something that would hit the deepest… 

“You don’t have to win a race to prove it. You just have to show up. Now. While you still can.”

Lando leaned back, heart thudding and for the first time, he felt it — the edge of everything he hadn’t said pressing against the inside of his chest, ready to spill out…But he just nodded.

Because somehow, Kylie always saw right through them both…

The rain was soft but steady, casting a sheen over the sidewalk…(Y/n) was locking up the shop, hoodie pulled up, hair damp. She jumped slightly when she turned and saw him standing there, hands in his pockets, eyes on her like he’d been waiting for hours…A concerned tone laced (Y/n)’s voice as she spoke…

“Lando? What are you—are you okay? It’s pouring.”

He stepped forward, barely flinching at the rain…“I needed to see you.”“Everything alright?”

He hesitated. Then looked at her the way someone does right before jumping off a cliff…“I’m leaving in three days.”...Her expression softens, nodding slowly.

“I know. That’s okay.” Lando shook his head as he stepped a bit closer and gulped…“No. It’s not…She frowned tilting her head…“Lando—” But he cut her off… “You keep saying it’s okay. That you’ll stand by me. And I love that about you. I need that. But it’s not okay for me. Because I don’t want to go back to pretending this isn’t something real.”

Her breath catches. His voice was quieter but urgent, rain catched on his lashes… “You matter more than anything I’ve done this year. More than any podium. More than any trophy. I wanted to win that race for you because... you’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to come home to.”

She blinked. Didn’t speak. Just stared at him — like he had said something she had been waiting her whole life to hear…“I’m not asking you to follow me. I’m just asking you to believe that no matter where I go — you’re what I’m coming back for.”...and just like that, something crumbled and rebuilded in the same breath…Raina took a step forward, lifted her hand to his rain-soaked cheek…“Then go. And race. But don’t think for a second I’m standing behind you.”She touched her forehead to his.

“I’ve always been right beside you.” He closed his eyes…and for the first time in months, the noise really did stop…Just rain. Just them…And finally, no more unspoken things between them.

The air was sleepy, mist curling low on the ground. The city hadn’t fully woken…Raina walked Lando down the stairs, hoodie sleeves tugged over her hands. He was in jeans and a cap, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, tired but not from lack of sleep — from trying not to memorize everything about her face one last time…They stopped just outside the building.

Silence hanged…“Text me when you land?” (Y/n) smiled up at him…her arms wrapping around herself as she looked up at him… “I will. Even before, probably. You’ll get sick of me.” Lando smiled down at her as she replied…“Already am…He laughed, but it was a little uneven…They stood there, facing each other. The quiet is weighty in a gentle way — like the calm before something changes. She shifted slightly, like she was about to step back, but he didn't let her…Instead, he tugged lightly at the sleeve of her hoodie.

“I don’t want this to be one of those things we almost said. Or something that fades just because I got on a plane.”...Her eyes lift to his…He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone.

“So... I was thinking. When I get back…”

He types something. Turned the phone to show her…A reservation screen for a quiet little place by the water. Candlelight. A real table. Her name…

“A proper date. You. Me. No race weekend chaos. Just dinner. And I am trying very hard not to be completely stupid around you.”

Her brows lifted, amused and touched and blinking fast…“You want to date me, Norris?”..He shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

“Kinda already am. Just figured I should make it official before some other idiot realizes how impossible it is not to fall for you.”...Her breath hitches.

She stepped forward and kissed him softly before she wrapped her arms around him, face tucked into his chest, words muffled but full…“You better come back in one piece.”....He leaned his cheek to her hair, holding her tighter than he probably should…“Always. I’ve got someone to come home to now.”

They pull apart slowly, reluctant. The cab waited at the corner…He lingered a second longer. A smile ghost’s Lando’s lips as he walks to the cab…

“Don’t forget — candlelight, good food, and you trying very hard not to fall harder for me.”

(Y/n) called after him…“No promises, Norris!”

He turned, walking backward for a beat, eyes still on her. “Save me a bouquet.” He says with a smile… “Save me a podium.” She replies as she waves softly…

And with that, he goes — but not really gone. Because this time, he’s coming back to her.

©WHOISRAII 2025 ━ do not copy, steal, post somewhere else or translate my work without my permission.

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Tutor Me

michael gavey x bimbo!reader

A/N: this was a request so i hope you enjoy! thank you to bel for putting michael creaming in his pants in my head.

TW: SMUT!! michael is mean and then he cums in his pants, this is the most filthy thing i've written perhaps

word count: 2,099 words

You knock three times on Michael Gavey’s door and flinch when he opens it just as you lay down the third knock.

Was he waiting at the door for you?

He’s almost annoyed by your presence before he takes in what you’re wearing, a tiny, lacy, pink, babydoll crop-top with a slit from your belly button to just below your breasts and the tiniest little white skirt that falls just below your bum. Oh, and don’t get him started on the godforsaken thigh-highs, the things are practically lethal.

“Um, Earth to Michael?” You wave a hand in front of his face to try and snap him back into reality. The poor man is starstruck at just the sight of you.

“S-Sorry yes… come in.” He stutters and steps back so you can walk in. 

You brush it off and strut into his room, sitting down on his bed. Oh god how he loves the sight of you on his bed with your skirt riding up ever so slightly and your plush thighs pressed together. You hold your textbook in your lap as he stares at you once again, clenching his hands into fists in an attempt to get his cock to stop rising.

“Are we going to get started?” You ask, trying to snap him out of it once again.

“Started with what?” He blurts out.

“Trig?”

“Oh yes, of course - sorry.” He mumbles and wipes his hands on his palms before apprehensively sitting next to you.

You open up your book and show him the problems you were struggling with.

“These are the questions you’re struggling to comprehend?” He asks condescendingly. “There aren’t many thoughts in that pretty little head of yours, are there?” He seems to get back to his old self with ease.

“Don’t be cruel.” You say with a huff. “Not everyone is as smart as you.”

“Clearly.”

“You won’t speak to me like this if you’re going to tutor me.” You say firmly.

“You can’t make demands when i’m doing you a favour.” He scoffs.

“You’re actually doing Ms. Jameson a favour and i’m sure she would be very disappointed if you couldn’t follow through.”

Michael grumbles something about how he wouldn’t be the one who wasn’t following through but sighs anyhow and begins to look at your attempts that you’ve written under each question. You cross your arms a bit smugly.

“Nothing else to say?” You taunt him.

“I’m trying to be nice…” He trails off when he glances up at you, noticing how your arms are crossed - noticing the way the action pushes up your tits.

You might be a little ditzy but you’re not that ditzy. “Are you really staring at my tits right now?”

“What? No - are you that full of yourself?” He sputters out, his cheeks turning red.

“You don’t spend much time around women, do you?” You giggle.

“Of course I do!” He protests and then grumbles out, “And i’m the rude one?”

“Michael, have you ever kissed a girl?” You ask a little gently.

“I’ve kissed loads!” He claims but his cheeks get redder.

“Oh well then. I was going to offer to teach you but there’s clearly no need.”

He’s silent for a moment, a long moment.

“Out.” He says finally.

“What?”

“Stop fucking with me like that and get out of my room.” He is clearly embarrassed, thinking you’re playing some cruel prank on him.

“I’m not messing with you.” You say but he’s already getting your things together.

“Like hell you’re not.” He shoves your things into your hands and stands to get the door. You put your stuff back down.

“I’m not leaving,”

“Yes you are. I won’t have you making a fool out of me and then giggling about it with your little friends.” He grabs your wrist to pull you to your feet.

“I don’t think you’re a fool. I like you.” You say earnestly.

“Bullshit.” He says but he isn’t dragging you to the door yet.

“I do, Michael. I think you’re cute.” He searches your eyes for dishonesty but the blush on your cheeks makes him inclined to believe you.

“Y-You do?” His eyes soften.

“I do.”

“And you’re not taking the mickey out of me?” He asks one more time, just to be sure.

You shake your head. “I’m not.”

“You really want to kiss me?’

“Only if you tell me the truth about how many girls you’ve kissed… and if you close that door.” You say sweetly.

Michael practically slams the door with haste and proceeds to lock it. “I haven’t kissed any girls.” He admits.

That was easy.

“Can we kiss now?” He asks eagerly and you giggle.

“Sit down on the bed.”

He does so right away, wiping his palms on the covers. You walk over to him slowly, so you can tease him even more. He gulps as you perch yourself right on his lap, straddling both his legs and oh boy do you feel how hard he is immediately. He’s bigger than you expected and you can tell even through his trousers.

“Are you ready?” You ask as you rub your hands up and down his chest and he nods swiftly in response. “Okay…” You whisper out before leaning in slowly to brush your lips gently against his. It’s definitely more than a peck but doesn’t leave him anywhere near satisfied. “How was that?”

“Good but I think we should do it again to be sure.” He says, clearly flustered.

“I think so too, but this time, you’ll open your mouth a bit.”

“O-Okay.” He breathes out and you press your lips against his once again, kissing him with more pressure this time. He opens his mouth and you slip your tongue past his lips to touch his tongue for a moment before pulling it back. He whimpers into your mouth and the two of you begin to properly makeout at this point as Michael grows his confidence. He is an… aggressive kisser so to say but it’s clearly because of how excited he is. You’ve never seen someone act so excited to just kiss you before. You lift his hands as you kiss him and place them on your waist. He immediately begins to squeeze at the soft flesh and he groans at the feeling. He then begins to subconsciously rock you back and forth over his crotch so he can gain some friction. The poor boy is so close to creaming in his pants that he actually whines when you pull away. His lips try to chase yours as you do but you push at his chest to stop him.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks nervously as his hands continue to knead at your skin, never straying from your waist.

“No.” You say, finding his concern sweet. 

“Then why’d you stop?” He asks and you find it cute at how such an egotistic man is reduced to using puppy-dog eyes.

“Well, you’re always staring at my tits. I thought you’d like to see them for real.” His eyes light up.

“That would um… be nice.” He tries to say casually and you giggle at his response.

You take off your babydoll top and you’ve never felt more flattered. He looks at you like a kid on christmas, as if your tits came gift-wrapped with a bow.

“Oh god.” He groans out, looking mesmerised. 

“You can touch them if you want.” You say and you could imagine that his face would be the same as a man who has just won the lottery.

He is almost apprehensive at first as if you’ll slap him and storm off the moment he touches them but he lifts his hands anyhow and places them gently on your chest.

“They’re so soft… and plush.” You can feel his hips moving from under you and when he gives your tits a good squeeze, he also moans, bucking his hips up hard.

Then you realize.

He just came in his pants.

When you glance down, he realizes that you know what just happened.

“Oh god, i’m so fucking sorry. Fuck.” He lifts you off his lap with surprising ease so he can cover his crotch with his hands. He stands up, with his back facing you so he doesn’t have to look at what he expects to be, a disappointed look on your face.

“Michael-”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just look at me-”

“That’s so bloody humiliating.”

He is clearly in some sort of a state so you roll your eyes, but then an idea pops into your head. You pull your lacy, wet panties off and throw them right over his shoulder. They land right on the desk in front of him. Michael freezes. He knows right away what they are and reaches to pick them up, getting rock hard again when he feels how wet they are. Without a second thought, he brings them up to his nose and inhales. He’ll for sure have those wrapped around his cock when you’re not around. 

You’re laying back on his bed when he turns back around, your thigh-highs still on and your skirt hiked up around your waist. His eyes then fall to your glistening cunt.

“I still need to be fucked, Michael.”

He’s on you in a second, kissing you ravenously as he unbuckles his belt. When his cock is finally out, he pauses.

“I don’t have any condoms.” He’s embarrassed but he’s never had a need for them before.

“I’m on the pill. Do what feels good.” You say, wanting him as much as he wants you.

He does exactly as you advise and does as he pleases, slamming himself in, all the way to the hilt and relishing the feeling of you squeezing around him.

“Jesus - fuck.” You curse.

“What’s wrong?” He asks with concern as you hold his hips to keep him still.

“Usually when a man - how do I put this lightly… has a massive horse cock, they enter a bit slower.” 

“I’ll pull out then.” He says, trying to find a solution as he gets halfway out, dragging a whimper out of you.

“No, no!” You whine, your eyes rolling back in your head from this pleasure of having him inside you.

“No?” He grins a little.

“I just needed to adjust.”

“To my huge dick?”

Great, another thing for him to be cocky about.

“Fuck you.” You murmur.

“I think i’ll be doing the fucking.” He says playfully as he gives an experimental thrust back into you. When he sees your pleased expression, he begins to fuck you harder, loving the way his cock looks slipping in and out of your dripping cunt.

“Mmm, Michael.” You moan when he hits your sweet-spot so he continues to bully the head of his cock against it.

“Getting all dumb again? Think if I asked you a trig question, you’d be able to answer?” He teases as he bruises your cervix.

You squeeze around him in retaliation. “Would you?”

His hips stutter a bit and he gets more sloppy. You remember now that he’s a virgin and you’re impressed that he didn’t just cum right away.

“F-Fuck.” 

He begins to truly realize what he’s actually doing. The hottest girl in school is almost fully naked on his bed with his cock balls deep inside of her. He’s going to take full advantage of the situation.

“You’re so pretty.” He says and looks down at your breasts. “Your tits are so pretty too.” He leans down to kiss them, sucking on your nipple. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this. Please let me do it again.”

He isn’t even finished and he’s already begging for more. His pace begins to slow as he keeps sucking on your tits and you know he’s close so you squeeze around him. This time, the action makes him orgasm and thick, hot spurts of cum spill inside you. He lays down on you, happily using your chest as a pillow.

“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He says in a very tired voice. “Did you like it?” He asks.

“Very much.” You say truthfully as you run your fingers through his hair.

He then lifts his head to look at you. “Did you um… cum?”

“Well… no.” His face drops and he feels like he’s failed. He’s also nervous that you won’t like him anymore. “It’s okay though. I never taught you how.”

He thinks on that for a moment and then the sad look leaves his face.

“Let me eat your pussy then.”

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

[chrepsi]

ˇ ⋆ ╱ chemistry - m. sturniolo

a/n ; better fics coming soon, but have this corny bullshit for now <3

not proofread :/

wc ; 1.1k+

the air was charged—like the quiet before lightning, when you feel it in your chest before you ever see the flash. that was matt.

you didn’t mean to look at him like that, not when the others were around. not when nick was narrating some wild story from a space camp photoshoot, or when chris was trying to be serious and failing hilariously. but matt—matt always found your eyes, even when you didn’t mean to offer them.

he was leaned back in his chair, hoodie pulled up like a shield but his eyes locked onto you like he didn’t need protection. you should’ve looked away. but you didn’t.

“you good?” he asked, voice low so it only reached you, not the rest of the group.

your heart did a little lurch in your chest, an involuntary skip like it was trying to keep up. you nodded. “yeah. why?”

he tilted his head slightly, smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “you’ve been staring.”

you scoffed softly, trying to recover. “you’ve been… existing.”

“guilty,” he said, eyes still on you, voice a little too amused. “sorry I’m a distraction.”

you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but that damn smile he wore said he already knew. matt always seemed to know.

it wasn’t like you planned to be alone with him later. but the others bailed on the movie night—nick got tired and chris had an early shoot—and suddenly it was just the two of you, the house quieter than it should’ve been with how loud your thoughts were.

matt didn’t seem to mind the empty seats. if anything, he looked more relaxed with just you there, socked feet propped up on the coffee table, one arm resting along the back of the couch, dangerously close to your shoulders.

the movie played. you didn’t really watch it. not with the way his fingers would brush your arm every now and then, casual and unhurried, like he was testing the water without fully diving in.

you weren’t sure if he knew what he was doing to you—or maybe he knew exactly.

“want me to put something else on?” he asked suddenly, turning his head to look at you. you turned too quickly, and for a split second your faces were just too close.

his breath hitched. so did yours.

the question faded into the air, neither of you bothering to answer it.

“matt…” you said quietly, unsure why.

he leaned in just slightly, like he was pulled by something he didn’t want to fight. “yeah?”

your heart thudded, loud in your chest. “this feels like…”

“like what?”

you swallowed. “like something we’re not saying.”

his eyes scanned your face like he was looking for the truth in your eyelashes. “you think i haven’t noticed?”

“noticed what?”

“that we’ve got chemistry,” he said simply, like it wasn’t a loaded statement. “it’s always been there. you just never let me talk about it.”

your breath caught. “i didn’t think you felt it.”

matt chuckled, low and rough and way too close to your neck. “i think about you more than i should. and it’s not innocent.”

the confession landed like thunder. he didn’t take his eyes off you as he said it, and for a moment the air thickened—slow and sweet like honey melting on your tongue.

your gaze dropped to his mouth, then back to his eyes. “then talk about it.”

it was permission. he heard it. felt it.

matt shifted, closing the space between you in one smooth move. His hand cupped the side of your jaw, thumb brushing lightly along your cheek like he’d been dying to touch you this way forever. when he kissed you, it wasn’t rushed—it was electric, but slow, like he wanted to memorize how you tasted, how you melted into him.

you kissed him back harder.

he chuckled against your lips, pulling you closer, the heat between you crackling, building, wanting.

his hoodie was soft under your fingers as you grabbed it, pulling him into you like you needed him closer than skin. the kiss deepened, and when his hand slipped to your waist, gripping you a little tighter, a soft moan escaped your throat—surprising both of you.

“fuck,” matt muttered, breathless. “i’ve wanted that.”

you were pressed chest to chest now, knees brushing, hips shifting. he kissed along your jawline, down to your neck, mouth warm and teasing against your skin.

your fingers tangled in his curls, pulling just slightly, and he let out a soft groan—deep and low, like he was barely keeping it together.

“matt…”

he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, pupils blown wide, lips flushed. “say the word and i’ll stop. but if you want this, i'm not holding back anymore.”

you didn’t say a word. you just pulled him back into you.

the rest of the night blurred. there were clothes still on, but barely. there were whispered laughs and quiet moans, fingers under layers, teasing and exploring, testing boundaries like you were both finding a map for the first time.

it was heat and tension and the kind of touch that left sparks behind.

eventually, you were lying side by side, hearts racing, fingers still intertwined. the tv was long forgotten. so was the movie.

matt turned his head to look at you. “so…”

you raised a brow. “so?”

“you think that was just chemistry?”

you grinned. “feels like more.”

he smiled softly, that rare, vulnerable one he didn’t give just anyone. “good. because i don’t want this to be temporary.”

you tucked into his side, resting your head against his chest. “me neither.”

there was a pause. then—

“also,” he said, voice teasing again, “next time, i want less talking. more of you making that sound when i—”

you smacked his arm with a laugh, cutting him off. “shut up.”

but you were smiling. because the chemistry?

yeah, it was definitely real.

<3 taglist ; @trevorsgodmother @pr3ttylittleslutt @v4lsturn @wildfluer @delilahsturniolo @courta13 @kisses4chris @chrispycremedonut @chrisspussygang @stvrniolotrxpl3ts @baebadoobee4ever @emely9274 @mvkyis @mattsbug @sturniqloo @mattsleftball @tits4matt @mothstvrnz @joanakaulitz @mialovesyouchris @belle-ee @owenstar @sturnsalcohol @slvt4subchratt @cherryystemm @angeliolo @sturkneeohloww @bbgirlmatt @sunshine-sturniolo @anyaa2s @zenithsturniolo @matts-hersheys-kisses @emilyscoastcreations @lezleeferguson-120 @pair-of-pantaloons @chrissturn2303

( reply here to be added )

[slut4hee]

Don’t Test Me

{Paring: Idol Boyfriend Heeseung x Blk Gf Reader

{Genre: Pure dirty smut, barely no plot! Heeseungie gets jealous and f*cks your brains out, 18+ so (mdni).

{Synopsis: In which Heeseung gets jealous when you get too touchy and close with his members, so he decides to show you exactly who you belong to.

{Warnings: explicit scenes, rough sex, backshots, dirty talk, pet names, just faith filth okay?! Don’t like it don’t read it simple!

—————————————————————————

F-Fuckk, H-Heeseung slow down pls” You cried out, as your boyfriend fucked into you ruthlessly, he had been abusing your pussy for hours now, you can’t even recall how many times you’ve came around his long thick cock.

“Shut the fuck up and take this dick, you wanted to be a bold little whore, and feel up on Jake, so take what I give you with no complaints” He grunted, his hips moving wildly as he pounded you into his mattress. You could feel his cock inside your stomach, his mushroom tip poking your cervix, as he dicked you so deep.

“Baby I’m sorry, I was only t-trying to help him fix his shirt, it was on backwards” You managed to stutter that out, drool dripping on the sides of your mouth, as you moaned uncontrollably, his cock felt so good.

“Bullshit, I saw the way you were looking at his abs, greedy little bitch can’t survive off one cock, you gotta be a sleaze and seduce my fucking members” He spat, gripping your hips tighter, as adjusted his position on the bed, now pulling your body to be flushed to his chest and resuming pounding into you.

“No! I promise that w-wasn’t the case, Fuck right there please right there” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your pussy clenching uncontrollably around his dick, you could feel yourself getting ready to explode. He pushed your body back onto the mattress, putting all his weight on you, as he plowed into you as if you were only a rag doll.

“Who does this pussy belong to? Huh, tell me this good fucking pussy Is all mines” He groaned deeply, his thrust growing erratically, as he neared his high, you could feel his cock pulsating inside you, your tight little pussy threatening to milk his cock for all it’s worth.

“It’s yours hee! My pussy belongs to you daddy, this pussy is all yours fuck! I’m gonna c-cum daddy ugh” You screamed out, tears starting to prickle your waterlines. Heeseung’s long fingers made contact with your puffy clit, and that sent you over the edge, your legs trembling wildly as you came hard around his cock.

“Fuuckkk” Heeseung let out a guttural grunt, his stomach tightening, emptying his load deep inside you, painting your gummy walls white. The both of your breaths were uneven, as Heeseung collapsed onto you, a reminder of his presence behind you.

“Now you know not to fucking test me again “

The End....

A/n: I decided to come out of hiding and publish a little drabble, I’m currently going through a moving process, so I’ve been really busy and just don’t have time to write😭 don’t be mad at me too much pookie I wuv you all🫶🏽 you think I proofread this? Haha you’re funny🫣

[lostlighter375]

Saw a post on here earlier that basically said that the Decepticons would be NOTHING if it weren’t for Soundwave. And furthermore, how funny it would be for Soundwave to lose his filter for a day and see what happens.

To start off with, how DID he revoke his vow of silence? Maybe he got into a really rough fight with an Autobot and received a head injury that somehow reverted him back to a state he was in before the war.

Or maybe he’s just plain fed up with everyone’s bullshit

Regardless of what got him to this point, he’s speaking again, and somehow him speaking regularly makes him even more uncanny.

Oh, and he’s a menace.

And not a menace as in he is actively being a shit stirrer. (Though he has gotten more sassy) No, he’s just honest and has no filter anymore.

Whatever is on his mind about any given situation, he says it.

He has opinions and all of them are correct.

And most of the cons are gagged when he reads someone to filth. Including Megatron.

Like when Megatron started snorting crack- I mean stabbed himself with Dark Energon.

Megatron, about to stab himself with a crystal he has no idea how it will affect him.

Starscream: No master, not in your spark chamber! You don’t know what it will do!

Soundwave: Respectfully, my lord. This is the dumbest fucking idea you’ve ever had.

Megatron, ACTUALLY stops and looks at Soundwave wide eyed. Starscream is GAGGED.

Megatron: Hmm…well when you put it that way…

(Soundwave gets away with it because of favouritism duh)

Speaking of Starscream, bro cannot catch a break with Soundwave.

The Seeker is read to filth both with and without an audience and it is always humiliating. Starscream has seriously considered joining the Autobots cuz Soundwave is NASTY.

Soundwave: I think you need a shower.

Starscream: No I don’t, I just had a shower this morning.

Soundwave: Then why do you keep spouting shit?

Starscream, watching Knockout walk by, freshly buffed: Ugh, he does way too much.

Soundwave: …You walk around in heels Starscream.

Soundwave: Do you ever tire of your schemes? Does the weight of all your failed attempts to usurp Lord Megatron not crush you? Maybe even compel you to look inward? Everyone knows how deeply insecure you are, and you know it too. Why else do you continue to attempt to murder Lord Megatron? Is it to make you feel powerful? Significant? Important? But deep down that you’re nothing without Megatron. It is only under his command that you can have even a minuscule amount of power at all.

Starscream, nearly in tears: …Now that was unnecessary…

(No Starscream was not crying himself to sleep that night what are you talking about?)

Of course he isn’t ALL sass and quips. He can be surprisingly nice too.

Like the time a Vehicon accidentally bumped into him while carrying a load of Energon cubes to the refinery.

If this was Soundwave on any normal day, he would have stared at the Vehicon and went on his way like nothing happened. No one would know what he was actually thinking.

Vehicon, bumps into Soundwave and drops all the Energon cubes to the floor: Oh Primus, I am so sorry Commander Soundwave…I-I didn’t see you I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen pleasedon’tkillme-

Soundwave, unfazed: Hey it’s all good. Lemme help pick those up for you.

Vehicon, genuinely shocked and confused that a member of high command would offer such a lowly Vehicon even an once of grace and mercy.

That’s all I could think of at the moment, I might come back to this later if I come up with more ideas.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieangstyaugust.

I'm An Island, But You're An Ocean

Day #13: "Please, stay?" | Word Count: 2191 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Recovering From Injuries | Tags: Post S4, Steve the Caregiver Makes Eddie Want to Run, Self-Sabotage, Angst w/a Happy Ending

They're fighting. Sort of. Kinda. 

Eddie isn't exactly sure what's happening here tonight.

The air feels weird between them, and Eddie wants it to very much stop being whatever this is, immediately.

"Settle down. What's the commotion?" Steve asks, putting his hands on Eddie's shoulders, stilling him.

It pisses Eddie off.

So, he shrugs Steve off, because Steve can't be touching him. Not like that. Not now. Not ever.

Even if he wants him to be. That's exactly why he can't let this continue. It's too dangerous. 

Eddie knows he's being bullheaded, knows he's digging his heels in for no good reason, but he also knows that Steve's pushing. Pushing, pushing, pushing. Always. He never relents. Never gives up about anything that he gets in his head. 

And for some godforsaken reason, Steve Harrington has made him a project. His main one, as far as Eddie can tell. Eddie definitely never asked for, or wanted, that. It makes his teeth itch, to have that kind of attention shoved his way.

Which is weird. Eddie loves attention. But not this specific attention. Because he doesn't know what to do with it. It's too overwhelming.

Steve wants Eddie to eat more. He wants Eddie to walk again. He wants Eddie to go home from the hospital. He wants Eddie to play the guitar. He wants Eddie to take a shower. 

He wants, wants, wants.

Eddie does one thing, and Steve will think up six more to add to the list. It's a never ending list of demands.

And yet, even with all those demands, Eddie isn't sure what Steve wants from him. Not really. It can't actually be the things he's demanding, because those don't affect Steve's life at all. What Eddie does, or doesn't do again, is no concern to him. Eddie can waste away in bed, and Steve Harrington should be unconcerned. Steve doesn't need to be here. He's made his amends, not that any of this was his goddamn fault anyway. Steve didn't drag him into this fucked up mess. Steve didn't bite him, chew him up, and spit him out.

So, he can go.

But he won't budge, just scoffs, and stays. Never taking a goddamn hint. He can't actually be that thick, but Eddie tries to push him away, and Steve moves closer, somehow. It's like they're coming at this from entirely different directions. 

Eddie doesn't know how to make it clear that Steve's repaid his imaginary debt. And Eddie can carry this load, alone. Would prefer it, honestly.

Eddie is an island, Steve is the whole goddamn ocean. 

He's overwhelming, and as much as Eddie wants to grab on, and ride that wave, he's too scared to leave the safety of the shore. Eddie doesn't get things as good, as open, as cool blue as Steve Harrington. Not ever.

"You can leave," Eddie says.

"I don't want to leave," Steve answers, distracted as he looks through their co-mingled tapes. Shuffling, banging them around, like he doesn't have them all memorized. Like he's not gonna choose the same bullshit he always picks.

Eddie can't take another minute of it.

"Well, maybe I don't want you to stay anymore," Eddie snaps, and Steve freezes. He looks like a goddamn deer caught in headlines. Blindsided. Shocked.

Has Steve really never considered that before? That maybe, just maybe, Eddie would like to be alone for a while? Why is that so hard to comprehend?

"Oh," Steve breathes out, and it's like Eddie's slapped him. Then he says, quiet and small, "Sorry. I didn't. Sorry."

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, regretful, unable to watch him crumble. Eddie can see that he's made Steve smaller, and it's carving away at Eddie's ribs. 

His heart. 

He didn't mean to do that. He just wanted to usher him out now, ahead of schedule. Rip the bandaid off. Bad news first, always. Get it over with. No reason to let it fester.

And Eddie's life up until this point? Has been pretty much all bad news. 

Eddie opens his eyes, needing to see what Steve's doing. It's too quiet.

And that means he has to watch as Steve starts to gather up his things, all of his things, and they've quite obviously accumulated over the summer. Like everything Steve owns has multiplied and spawned all over Eddie's room. This isn't gonna be fast, because Steve's gonna need more than one box, more than one trip. 

And Eddie can't really help. He just has to watch.

Eddie sits back against the wall, and as soon as Steve's taken the first load out, Wayne is in the doorway. Looking at him with something akin to disapproval. Of course he is.

"Where's Steve goin' with all that stuff?" Wayne asks.

"Don't know, don't care. Out of here," Eddie says, and he refuses to look up. Because he knows Wayne will read him like a goddamn open book.

"Eddie," Wayne says, soft and disappointed.

"Don't Eddie me. He has a life to get back to," Eddie argues. "Steve Harrington can't hole up in the bedroom of a vaguely exonerated maybe murderer. It's absurd."

And Wayne shakes his head, leaving him be. 

Wayne gets him, at least. 

So, Eddie watches as Steve rushes through his departure. 

It looks like a break-up, a moving out, and that's painful in a new way. Since they aren't that to each other, and never will be.

Just when he's gotten it all, or at least everything visible to the naked eye, Eddie thinks they're done here. Finally.

But Steve comes back, this time carrying in, instead of out, and hands over Eddie's battle vest, no longer as nasty as he'd last seen it. 

The blood is mostly scrubbed out, and some of the patches have been replaced by an inexperienced hand. 

"It was supposed to be for your birthday, but, here. The best I could do," Steve says. "It's not great. I'm not great at, well, much. I know."

And Steve pinches his nose, closing his eyes, "Sorry that I overstayed my welcome."

Eddie wants to say he didn't, wants to take it all back, wants to hand over his heart in his trembling hands. Wants to buy anything Steve's selling.

But he can't.

"Thanks for everything," Eddie says, and he means that. He does. He wouldn't be here at all without Steve Harrington. And that's a lot. A lot, a lot.

But Eddie doesn't know how to do this, doesn't think Steve would want him to, even if he knew how. 

"Can you make it easier for me to understand?" Steve asks, and Eddie doesn't exactly follow. 

"Understand what?" Eddie asks, fiddling with his blanket.

"What I did? Or, not what, maybe. Just. When? How long have I been bothering you?"

"You're not bothering me," Eddie says.

"Then, why do I have to go?" 

Eddie closes his eyes and sinks back into the pillows. The big, thick ones that Steve brought him, thinking his were too flat and sad to prop him up while he convalesced. 

"Because you don't want to be here," Eddie says, waving his arms around. It pulls at his scars, the skin tight and wrong, he winces, hand finding his side.

Steve moves, on instinct, taking one step forward before catching himself. Stilling, again.

"You don't get to tell me what I want, Eddie. I guarantee you don't know shit about what I want," Steve says bluntly, and it's the most forceful thing Steve's said to him in months. 

Everything else has been presented as persistent suggestions. This was just a fact. A fact that fucking stings.

"Yeah, well. Nothing in my life ever came with a guarantee," Eddie says, and Steve hangs his head. Eddie doesn't mean to be so fucking negative, but it's hard. He's stuck. Damaged.

Pissed off.

He thumbs at his jaw, his face, forever fucking marred. He doesn't think he was much to look at before, all big eyes and wild hair. But now? Now he is that monster they all said he was. 

Steve reaches for the vitamin e oil on his desk, handing it to him. Every wince he's made, Steve has had a fix for, and he thinks this is gonna fix Eddie's scars. Eddie's skeptical, at best. He hasn't seen any damn difference. It's all still awful.

His face. His chest. His sides. His fucking dick. Well, not his dick. But right above it. His thighs. His calves. His fucking ankle.

He's beyond damaged goods. Not even The Frugal Hoosier would want to sell the wares he's working with now.

Steve is cautious, but he sits on the edge of the bed, quiet for a minute, before finally asking, "Do you really want me to go? Or are you scared I might want to stay?"

Eddie covers his face with his hands. Of course he doesn't want him to go. He wants to keep him for-fucking-ever. He's just not gonna get to, so sending him away now seemed like the best bet to retain any of his sanity at all.

"I'm an island, but you're an ocean," Eddie finally says.

And Steve laughs.

Which makes Eddie smile, reluctantly.

"What's that supposed to mean? I'm not a songwriter. I can't speak in riddles," Steve says, still smiling.

Eddie doesn't know what it means. Well, he does, but explaining it makes him feel foolish.

But he'll try.

"I can only rely on myself-"

"That's not true," Steve interrupts. "You've got Wayne. And the rest of us."

Eddie holds up his hand, "Let me. Let me try."

Steve nods, motioning like he's zipping his lip. It's charming. But everything about him is charming.

Eddie's so fucking charmed. 

"I'm just me. An island. Solitary and confined to my own little box. And I'm not mad about that. Not anymore. I don't want to be pestered, or poked, or prodded. I just want to exist, cut-off from the world."

Steve's frowning. 

"And you're an ocean. Lapping at my edges, threatening to overtake me at any time. You're a flood, waiting to happen."

"Eddie…"

Eddie shakes his head, "You are. I feel a lot, Steve. I feel a lot, and it's overwhelming to have you surrounding me on all my edges. Looking for a way to breach your way inside."

Steve raises an eyebrow, expert, and fucking funny.

Eddie laughs, "Not like that, pervert."

Steve just smiles, then frowns again, "I'm smothering you, huh? That is a thing I do."

"No. No," Eddie assures. "Well, yes. But I don't hate it. I'm just scared of it."

"I don't want you to be scared of me," Steve says. 

"Well. I am," Eddie answers, and Steve moves to get up, but Eddie reaches out and catches his arm. 

He's already spilled enough for the blanks to be filled in. He can't hide from this. Not now.

So, Eddie tugs on him. Not allowing him to leave, even if that's what he asked for. He doesn't want that now. Never did. He's just a goddamn idiot that loves to run. And well, his body isn't in running condition at the moment. So, chasing away seemed like the next best bet.

Only, Steve's hard to scare away. Thank god.

Steve smiles, and scoots up the bed, until he can sit right next to Eddie. Then he reaches down and takes Eddie's hand. It's not the first time he's held Eddie's hand, he did it a lot in the hospital, but this is different. This time, Eddie's fully with it, and present.

"For what it's worth," Steve says, looking at him, fully. Not shying away from a damn thing, "I'm not scared of you. Or what I feel about you."

Eddie smiles, teasing, "What do you feel about me?"

"Annoyance mainly," Steve snarks, squeezing his hand, "but other things, too."

"I feel other things, too," Eddie admits.

"Good," Steve says, "Now, can I unload my car and stay already? Are we done with this dumb shit you're trying to pull?"

"Yes. Please, stay? Worry about the car tomorrow," Eddie answers, "tonight, just lay here with me?"

"Okay," Steve says, "I can do that."

And Steve helps him get comfortable, like he's done a million times before. A pillow under his knees, rotating his hips just so, everything very carefully choreographed to take the pressure off Eddie's body so he hurts less. 

Steve's an ocean. 

And Eddie will stay surrounded, and float with him for as long as he can.

Eddie picks up Steve's arm from where it's slung over his side, and kisses his palm.

"I'm sorry I was being a dickhead," Eddie says, maneuvering so he can rest his cheek in Steve's palm.

"Oh, I'm used to that," Steve teases, hooking his chin over Eddie's shoulder, pressing his lips to Eddie's other cheek. 

And Eddie turns his head, catching Steve's lips with his own. It's chaste, and a little dry, but for a first kiss it sure feels like the start of something bigger, and better, than Eddie ever could have imagined.

If this is what being swept out to sea by Steve Harrington feels like, Eddie knows he'll happily drown.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieangstyaugust and follow along with the fun angst! 😭

Notes: This has references to You're An Ocean by Fastball in it. This was originally gonna be for SteddieSongFics last month, but I went another way, and expanded this for Angsty August. But the references to the lyrics in the song remained, lol.

[encyclopediamorbidica]

this is the last i'm gonna say on this subject but i do find it deeply, deeply demoralizing to see transfems especially willfully misinterpreting my point to continue to defend a self admitted pedophile and pedophile enabler in the name of kink. literally all i said was that she has dogshit takes on issues she has no business speaking about and because she's a microceleb suddenly every big brained white woman on this site is prepared to come to me looking for that perfect gotcha moment where i out myself as the nasty transmisogynist who thinks being into "weird sex" (read: vehemently defending white peoples' right to get off to rape, incest, pedophilia, and bestiality) is tantamount to murdering kittens and that i secretly believe all trans women deserve to burn in hell. like i knew when i wrote that post that there would be plenty of people ready to back patricia to their dying breath, but i have never been so sick and tired of seeing someone's posts get spread around this website by people who are completely unaware of the things she constantly says and does.

she is bedfellows with some of the worst pedophiles on this site, knowingly and intentionally, and has surrounded herself with pedophiles for years to "cope" with being groomed and abused. while i deeply feel sorry for patricia for having to live with that kind of trauma, as someone who has survived sexual abuse and grooming myself, i really don't think anything that she's purporting to be "healthy" is backed up by anyone but herself and her inner circle of yes-men. i do not wish her harm, or isolation, or further abuse. i just want people to stop fucking taking her seriously and spreading her bullshit around this site.

she is no one's friend, especially not other trans women who would be rightfully hurt and disgusted by her and the people defending her calling anyone who looks at her sideways a raging transmisogynist when we are literally actively being pedohunted in real life by people who can actually do material harm. i genuinely don't understand how you can positively associate transfemininity with paraphilia and not see how you are handing ammunition to people who walk around waving loaded guns.

[heartsaturn]

We knew the whole time

jack hughes x reader || insta edit

warnings: fluff, swearing, trevor slander (i love him dw)

summary: you and jack have been best friends ever since you were little. you also may or may not constantly act like a couple.

a/n - the devs vs ducks game on sunday was a train wreck so here’s a little fic to comfort everybody, including myself. lets hope the devs vs flyers game is better.

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes and 5,197 others

yourusername jack, thank you for putting up with my bullshit for so long 🫶

tagged: jackhughes

load comments…

lhughes_06 Hmm, some of these pictures are little couple-y don’t you think?

yourusername no! i don’t think!

jackhughes thanks for such a kind caption 😐

yourusername i put a lot of thought into it just for you 🤭

trevorzegras oh?

yourusername i wish i never told you

jackhughes ??

trevorzegras i am also shocked he has put up with you for so long

yourusername i’m a delight!!

elblue6 ❤️❤️

yourusername mama hughes 🥹

user56 are they dating?

user12 no they’ve just been friends since they were little

user34 they’re so cute!

user67 yall can we talk about the last picture? are we sure they’re not dating?

yourusername

liked by _alexturcotte and 10,411 others

yourusername this just in: trevor cannot keep his fucking mouth shut (but we already knew that)

tagged: jackhughes

load more comments…

lhughes_06 barf

yourusername stop being a hater

trevorzegras what is it, bully trevor day? be grateful because without me neither one of you would’ve confessed

yourusername i’m not being grateful to a snitch

trevorzegras low blow 😔

jackhughes i can’t believe how oblivious we both were

yourusername were we really THAT oblivious?

trevorzegras yes

_quinnhughes yes

lhughes_06 yes

_alexturcotte yes

colecaufield yes

yourusername okay i get it now 😥

_quinnhughes you guys are cute ig

yourusername this is why you’re my second fav hughes brother 💙

lhughes_06 i beg your finest pardon???

yourusername sorry lukey

username6 i knew they were dating! (i was being delulu)

username32 what if i lay on a train track tonight 😭

username10 they make me feel lonely

jackhughes added to their story!

[p1astri-driver1]

really funny that anti-piastri ln4s are calling oscar "PRstri". sorry that piastri is sensible norris driver has never thought before he's spoken in his life? sorry that piastri acts with professionalism and norris runs his mouth and has to be defended by rabid fans and british-biased media? not the sick burn they think it is

They can't survive if they're not mispelling Oscar's family's names wrong (on purpose to make it seem like they don't know them when I'm sure they've done more research about them then the FBI ever could with how much bullshit that comes from them about Oscar and his family) and they're not even original, they've copied every lando haters tactics and that's when you know the hate is actually forced.

PRstri is funny because Oscar's been professional since he was young if you look at his interviews from when he was in karting and didn't have a team to monitor all his words. Everyone who has worked with him have said his professionalism at a young age was admiring. If being polite and mannerful in respects to your rivals even if you've not been having the best time yourself is PR then holy shit someone get Norris some.

A conversation ln4s will never be ready for: being real with your emotions doesn't give you the right to shut your brain off and spew whatever comes to your head about someone you're upset with especially with such a large online following. It's one thing to say that behind their back in private, but to say it where you know the world can hear, knowing you'll get hate for it because it was a shitty thing to say? That isn't him being real with his emotions, that's about sending a message, he can't say shit to Max's face so he would say it to literally everybody else and if you're going to act so tough you should have achievements that at the very least match the level of the person you're shit talking otherwise you'd looking even more fucking stupid which is exactly the case with Lando.

I won't even get into what he said to Lewis at Hungary last year, that was pure insecurity and poor ethics from him. Someone should've given him all the PR his fans are saying oscar has or he could've just shut his mouth and said anything else, the hate could've been avoided or atleast less than what it is now but he just makes it worse for himself everytime and it's always something new with him. He can't really do anything about it now, he's dug himself too deep (continually growing) and the internet never forgets.

I don't get into the whole mentality thing because mentalities differ for each individual and there is never a right one, there are only different ones and many mentalities over the years have brought out champions. What I don't understand however is, how his fans call Oscar's mindset ableist when it's just a breakaway from the stereotypical rule that men are always aggressive and emotional when shit hits the fan. His primary family has a majority of women so it's not really a suprise he's soft spoken.

I've seen ln4s say he's the one who put this narrative out that he's emotionless when it's never been that he isn't emotional or doesn't rage when in the car and he's specified that so many times before, you'd have to be a sociopath to not do that. This sport is intense and dangerous, words are going to come out in the heat of moment in the car which is sometimes the case with oscar and even then he's not overly aggressive with it, like he has said before, you can just not press the radio button where your words will be broadcasted for the world to hear.

Oscar has said he's calm and composed ≠ emotionless, that's the narrative ln4s and the media have pushed on him because he expresses emotions differently to others (e.g race radio's after he's won a race). Him being calm and composed applies to how he handles himself after having the shittiest races which would've made anyone crashout and that is also something that takes great load of effort to do. I mean see the difference with how Lando handled sochi and how Oscar handled Hungary 24' or if their fans want to go by age maturity, how Lando handled Austria and how Oscar handled Abu Dhabi 24' (essentially the same situation). His fans always being up that ONE clip of Oscar having a go at lance after he ruined his race in the interview after which was a joke that he even laughed at afterwards as if it compares to the things that lando always says about Max, and I'm sure other drivers but I don't care enough to research his radios. The difference in how it's delivered says it all, a jab is understandable, a joke is understandable, but Lando doesn't do any of that, he means it with his full chest, and that's where the hate ratio differs for Lando and Oscar. Lando's been saying shit like this for years and now that he's fully in the spotlight it's all coming out, oscar has the clean slate Ln4s WISH lando has so they'll resort to calling him a pr man as if that's a bad thing.

Another thing I want to bring up, Ln4s use PRstris as a slur because according to them he has no personality and is built up on PR, when Oscar acts (and I'm not saying he is at all) how a lot of autistic and neodivergent people act especially in social circles. I'm the most drawn to oscar because I see so much of myself in him, my social battery is so low even with people I'm comfortable with and sometimes expressing emotions is exhausting even if on the inside I could be the happiest person, and how I react or talk is exactly like Oscar. His personality, his humor and how he expresses emotions is different but I'm supposed to believe it's him having no personality at all? He's quite literally the most expressive person but they wouldn't know that because in their eyes personality only exists when you degrade yourself infront of the cameras and parade your entire life on social media. Ln4s are living embodiment of ableists and fucking hypocrites.