#so why keep up the charade?

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny commits to the Bit a bit too hard...

So! For the first few weeks after his accident, whenever Danny would try to help the people of Amity Park, he would be treated as a Villain.

No matter if he had just defeated the Big Bad of the Week or saved a Cat from a tree, everybody in town only saw him as a Monster or Villain to he feared and hunted down. Danny was really getting sick of trying to get them on his side, until Sam made a suggestion.

"Why not just...play into it?" She said, barely looking up from painting her nails.

It was just an offhand suggestion, but it stuck with Danny. Why shouldn't he lean into it? The people of Amity Park already saw Ghosts as Evil, and they already assumed he was in cahoots with the Ghosts attacking the town. Why shouldn't he just...play into it?

So he does just that.

From that day on, whenever Phantom was spotted he would dramatically monologue about his Evil Plans, or claim that another Rogues attack on the City was his own act of terror.

Box Ghost destroys the towns Warehouses? It was on his orders.

Ember mind controls masses of Teenagers? All part of his Plans somehow.

Every Adult in Town is kidnapped by Young Blood? Danny gave them over to a friend as a Gift.

He crafts an identity for himself as the most Vile and Horrible Ghost that has ever attacked the City, using his own infamy to cement his legend even more firmly. The town only sees a Monsterous Villain, who has eveded capture near effortlessly for months on end, who constantly attacks their City and gets away with it.

Of course he still needs an excuse for how his plans keep getting stopped, and he gets it when his girlfriend Valerie becomes the Red Huntress. Before that, he just claimed infighting or the Fentons getting lucky, but Valerie becoming the Town's Hero meant he had a plausible excuse for how he kept getting "Foiled".

Val was suspicious, because she was not as involved as Phantom painted her to be, but in the end she had no proof of him faking his defeats. And she couldn't come up with any explanations for why he would do that in the first place. I mean, who would fake being a Supervillain? It had to he something else.

This did come back to bite him a while later, when the Justice League decided that enough was enough, and dispatched Justice League Dark to recruit Red Huntress and help Deal with him.

Coincidentally, that was the same day Pariah Dark attacked the Mortal Realm and sucked Amity Park into the Ghost Zone.

And honestly? Danny had spent over a Year proclaiming himself as a Villain who commanded Ghosts to attack the Human Realm, and he had heard about the Right of Conquest being Absolute in the Ghost Zone, so why not make it official? Why not overthrow the Ghost King, become the Ghost King, and cement his identity as a Villain while also forbidding Ghosts from entering the Human Realm without his permission?

He may have gotten a bit carried away and forgotten that the Villain thing was a disguise...but hey! He was still preventing Ghost Attacks! ...mostly. That's got to count for something right?

He may have let the Bit run a bit too far...

...

Check the tags for more context!

[mrmeepsmadmind]

sideswipe is now red alert and inferno's stupid son.

inferno buys a shirt that says 'i love this crazy bitch' with Harley Quinn twerking on it & red alert shoots him with his shoulder mount missile at point blank range, no mercy, no warning, just murder

[barklikeagod]

this animation is so sexy in general but for them it’s sexy in a v specific way

[strangcmatters]

Emo abt the way reina regularly censors herself, regularly holds back, bites her tongue, interrupts herself to shift attention off of her again. Abt the way she can only let that go in the relief of submission, in the haze of subspace, abt how it's only when she's out of her mind with sensation that she doesn't try to shave herself down to fit into others' expectations, and at that point she's too far gone to do much more than beg.

[lxmitlxss]

💕 suguru and satoru

Send 💕 and my muse will use The Love Calculator to see how compatible they are. ( accepting ) ╰┈➤ Geto Suguru

" ... Seem's about right. The blurb said something like... 'communication is key for this to work out.' "

[plethorawrites]

(A/N, I know this is absolutely stretching it, but a lot of you like the secret relationship trope as much as me and I can't get this idea out of my head so...)

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Jason Todd who, despite fixing his relationship with his family to an extent, still maintains distance from them. He remains amicable, showing up when asked, never straying terribly far and always still including himself whenever someone mentions the 'family'.

But...he's still a bit of a loner around them, not always entirely honest all the time. He doesn't stick around very long unless asked and will make up obvious lies to get out of things he doesn't want to do. One of the ways he does this, is by claiming to have a date.

Yes, it was ridiculous to them. If he really wanted to get away from them, he could just say that. But hey, it was his life. And it was hilarious to see the lengths he would go to.

Unbeknownst to him, you were entirely real.

At first Jason worried that they would pry for more information, maybe insist on meeting you or try to run a background check. Bruce had done that on multiple girls Dick went out with and even made a file on Bernard when Tim got involved with him. He never mentioned your last name, usually calling you his girlfriend, or some nickname his had for you, in hopes of them keeping their distance. And they did.

He didn't realize it was because they didn't actually believe him when he said he was in a relationship. He never really gloated about it much, but he never hid it, either. He'd mention you moving in, mention you were working late so he could stay for dinner, or say you were sick so he had to leave early.

To them, it was all one elaborate lie that kept him away from the family.

Even when he introduced Alfred to you, legitimizing you in the butlers eyes, everyone just groaned, telling the man not to encourage Jason's charade.

When Jason said he had to leave patrol early because he planned to propose to you, they found it even funnier, honestly. He was really keeping up with this lie. It had lasted years. Sometimes, for months he didn't mention you, but then he'd casually say he got married to really cement that he was still putting up that wall between him and the family.

He even had very convenient reasons for all the things that didn't add up, like why he never wore a wedding ring (Which he would surely have if he had actually gotten married) or why he never went on a honeymoon (Which no one could live without, right?)

Truthfully, you didn't care about that, as long as he kept coming home in one piece with minimal bleeding. As for the ring? Well, he only wore it at home, otherwise he kept it on a chain under his suit.

At one point, he even claimed you were pregnant.

That one? That was a lie filled with meat to rip off the bone. Doctor appointments and sudden emergencies let him excuse himself from any meeting he didn't want to attend or leave early and come late for practically anything.

He would even purposely read baby books or pretend to be on the phone with you when he didn't want to talk to them or engage in conversation at hand/pay attention to a briefing.

In the middle of patrol he had disappeared, claiming you were in labor, when really, they just thought he wanted to go home and sleep. He had been acting awfully exhausted lately. He claimed it was from taking care of you.

Then, after that night, he oddly enough dropped all contact for a while. A long while, actually. No red hood activity, no returning phone calls, no one had heard from him. Except for Alfred who came over to bring you a care package and Roy who was there to see his goddaughter the second she came home from the hospital.

It was nearly two months later that they finally heard from him, after starting to truly worry. He had dropped off the map before when he got the urge to be alone, but never for this long. Now suddenly he was inviting the entire family over for dinner at his apartment?

He had NEVER in his life done that. Hell, they didn't even know where he lived. Probably because they would show up unannounced and he didn't want to deal with them sleeping on his couch.

Still, regardless of their hesitation they showed up.

Imagine their surprise when he opened the door and just past his shoulder they could see you, sitting on the floor, having tummy time with newborn baby girl who couldn't stop laughing.

Their eyes were wide, they couldn't stop staring, barely even moving.

Bruce probably seemed the most shocked. He was a grandfather after all and had not only missed his granddaughter's birth, but didn't even know he had a daughter-in-law.

The ring on Jason's finger was suddenly quite prominent, as was the matching one on your hand as you picked up the baby and carried her over to them, introducing yourself.

You had apparently heard a lot about them.

They had heard...well, enough about you that they shouldn't be surprised when you fit the exact description of who they thought had been Jason's imaginary escape wife for over two years.

It all came out in that moment and both Jason and your eyes were reflecting the same confusion and disbelief as they confessed to not believing you or the baby existed.

"You...thought I made up having a wife?" he repeated slowly, frowning as his arm wrapped around your waist. "AND I lied about her having a baby?"

He had always wondered why none of them seemed to really even care about the fact that they were going to be aunts and uncles. Bruce had barely even congratulated him at all, which stung a bit, but he brushed it off.

"Well...yeah?" Tim confessed, motioning to him. "It's you! You don't even like people."

Who would ever associate Jason Todd with domestic life? No one.

He shook his head in utter disbelief. "Unbelievable," he muttered, turning to you as you started to laugh uncontrollably. "What? You find that funny?"

You nodded, trying to stop chuckling. "It's so absurd," you chortled, your laugh making the baby coo in your arms. "And I get it, I do," you admitted. "You're all tough and brooding. Not exactly father material."

He frowned further. He liked to think he had been doing a pretty good job. Maybe not perfect, but he was trying his best for both of you.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, offended, taking the baby from you. "I know I'm not a professional or anything, I haven't dropped her yet."

Emphasis on the yet.

"Of course not," you agreed, kissing the baby's head and then his cheek. "You're a very father. Even if the baby isn't real," you added with another huff of amusement, running your hands through his hair as you walked past him into the kitchen. "Put her down for her nap, would you? I want to check on dinner."

He gave another confused, inquisitive glare to his family, especially his father before nodding. "Make yourselves at home," he muttered, still confused. "I'm going to put my fake daughter down in her fake nursery," he told them before walking off.

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

So Damian is in college, and he’s continued being a vigilante, but people are starting to get a bit suspicious when he leaves during a rouge attack. He needs someone to be his alibi, and it has to be someone he can realistically be around alone for long periods of time.

Enter Danielle Jane Masters. She’s an archaeology major, and is currently looking for a place to live that’s not a dorm. Quiet enough to to slip by, but is also a presence that’s impossible to fully ignore. She’s also pretty and smart enough for their ‘relationship’ to not be a total shock

Damian offers his apartment in exchange for her to be his fake girlfriend.

~

Dani’s attending GU, and after her roommate infested her dorm with mutated cockroaches, she decides that she’s done with the dorm hall.

She can’t exactly find a place to stay with roommates willing to overlook her halfa oddities (doesn’t eat much/at all, eyes glow, etc) and she can’t afford rent on her own (and she would not be asking Vlad for money). Jazz and Danny have enough on their plate, with Danny taking his rightful throne and Jazz getting a PhD in Star City.

Dani also is keeping a low profile, partly due to the GIW and partly due to the bats, who might run her out of town before she finishes her degree.

So having a fake boyfriend to keep her cover as a normal college student is perfect. All she has to do is be a good fake girlfriend until she graduates and she can leave town.

Why Damian needs a fake girlfriend is none of her business, but she suspects hes involved in crime.

They mostly ignore each other, but over time they develop a small friendship and a ‘friends with benefits’ type of thing even though they’re already ‘dating’.

Shenanigans in no particular order:

- Damian notices Dani doesn’t eat much, and gets pretty concerned, especially after he realizes she also doesn’t sleep (halfa stuff)

- Dani gets the flu, and Damian goes full doctor mode. Turns out Dani not only hates being cared for, she’s also clingy when she’s sick

- Dani doesn’t come back one night, so Damian goes out to look for her and finds her as a sacrifice for a cult meant to bring ‘peace and harmony’ to the world. They take her blood and before they add it to the circle, all the power cuts out. Damian heads back to the apartment to find Dani waiting for him, saying she was ‘so worried’ (She was. She sensed he was near during the ritual and caused a city-wide blackout and slipped out invisibly and intangibly)

-the Waynes are entirely convinced that Dani and Damian are actually dating, and Damian goes: ‘these fucking idiots. I wonder how long we can fool them.’ Surprisingly, Danis up for the challenge, and Damian invites her to a gala, where they pretend to be the most in love couple then can be without making it obvious they’re faking. Has Dani always stared at him like this?

-Jon visits, and even he’s convinced. That’s when Damian realizes that he actually wants to date Dani

-Something happens to Dani’s room/bed (maybe it’s flooded, the frame snaps, etc) and suddenly it’s just one bed

-that same night, one of Damian’s sibling slip through Damian’s window bc they’re injured and just see Damian and Dani and it’s just really awkward, especially if one of them wakes up.

-if it’s Dani that wakes up, she just sees a shadow at the foot of the bed, realizes Damian’s sleeping right next to her, and she grabs the nearest lamp and throws it. The person crumples to the ground and Dani finally turns on the light to see a vigilante on the ground unconscious.

- if it’s Damian, he’s just really embarrassed while the vigilante thinks it’s cute. Damian ends up trying to get his sibling to leave while also trying to not wake up Dani, who eventually smothers him with a pillow trying to get him to shut up.

-it turns out they sleep way better when the others there, so they make excuses to stay

-Danny stops by for an hour and is promptly not fooled by their charade and accuses Damian of holding her hostage. Barbara or Tim decide to hack into his apartment’s security camera and catches the part of the conversation where Danny threatens Damian

-one of them gets partnered with a member of the opposite gender, and the other is wildly jealous about it

-one of them gets a stalker and they spot the stalker in public, and in order to ward them off, they start making out with the other. The stalker posts the photos on the internet

-a talk show wants to have an interview with them, and they play a game (“what’s their favorite color? “What’s their biggest pet peeve” etc). They answer every question correctly.

-they have a public pretend fight that gets a little too real

-Jason or Steph finds out and they help Damian plan an apology date

-someone insults Damian too Dani’s face and Dani snaps. There’s yelling, video recordings, and a whole bunch of shit and Dani doesn’t even realize Damian’s standing right behind her, approaching her to ask her out on that apology date.

-Dani gets invited out by some of her friends and they ditch her and Dani’s drunk, has no ride, and is feeling extremely uncomfortable, so she calls Damian, who drops whatever he’s doing to come get her

-Damian gets home late after a rough patrol and Dani fell asleep at the counter waiting for him because she was worried

-fake proposal. Even better if it’s not planned at all, and they’re just like “do you to marry me?” “Ok sure.” “👍”

Any more ideas? Not sure how it’ll end, so i want to see your suggestions

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi 👋, can I request a self aware Smilk & reader, where he’s the only one who knows of their existence, and the reader can sometimes take control of him which causes some confusion to other cookies.

(You can choose whether it’s a one-shot or headcanons)

Yess self awareness time

.......

After trying and trying again, you finally pulled Shadow Milk Cookie from the gacha, thrilled that he finally came home!

Now that you've understood all the hype surrounding him and how crazy powerful he can be after clearing his Beast Yeast episodes, you had all your star jellies, toppings, and a legendary beascuit saved just for him.

But ever since obtaining him, you've noticed some...oddities with him that made you assume it was part of his programming/AI.

When you see him walking around the kingdom or working at a station that's not the toy store, he's looking at you a lot.

Of course, some cookies may glance at you occasionally, with even fewer breaking the fourth wall (like Black Sapphire and Devil Cookie), but that's just what the devs added as a funny joke.

Shadow Milk...is different. He doesn't follow their script to a T.

The way he talks and waves at you, shows off during battles and making himself the last cookie standing in difficult arena fights, and doing his juggling trick when he knows you're looking at him.

Then he actually responded to you after you made a remark about where to put his statue...and at first you're startled, bc no way could that have been a coincidence...

In reality, he had an "awakening" of his own--in that his knowledge suddenly extended beyond CRK's borders.

Somehow, he can see and hear you, becoming 100% aware that he's in a video game.

But you assume his new antics are part of his programming...until one day the charade falls apart and he straight up tells you that he knows the truth. He even says your username, the device you're playing on, and the day you started CRK as proof in case you think he's lying.

You're stunned at first, but then you think it's actually pretty awesome....until he claims that he's the only one who knows and felt like it would've been better if he didn't.

Of course, the master of deceit would rather ignore the truth and live out a lie, like all the other cookies are....but he's stuck with this earthbread-shattering truth that's only his to bear.

In a way, being "trapped" in this game reminds him of the witches and the time he spent in the silver tree, believing he escaped one prison only to end up in another.

After you leave the game to tend to some real life matters, he tries sowing chaos in the kingdom by revealing this to other cookies, thinking they'd "wake up".

Yet none of them know wtf he's talking about. Not even the Beasts or Pure Vanilla, who thinks he's just trying to trick everybody again..although he admits that what Shadow Milk is saying sounds most outlandish.

Typically, he'd be able to conjure up some kind of "evidence" and manipulate wide masses into believing any word he says.

But you're untouchable, and he has no way of obtaining tangible proof of your existence to show the other cookies...and once he realizes this, he gets frustrated.

"Who do you think fulfills our wishes at the tree???? Who do you think indulges us with star jellies????? Keeps this kingdom from crumbling to pieces?!! We are ALL the puppets to an even bigger puppet master!"

Anyone who hears this yap from him just thinks 'is he alright? like genuinely?'

The next time you log in, Shadow Milk is gravely upset that he has to carry this burden and decides to take it out on you.

Suddenly there's lag spikes when his ability is on cooldown (so you can hardly use them in battle and lose your ranking in arena), he avoids you trying to pick him up in the kingdom (much to other cookies' confusion, as from their pov, he's fleeing something that's invisible)...and he even corrupted his own stats to make it seem like any promotions were gone and his level dropped back to 1.

You ask him why he's causing you all this trouble, and his next rant was more or less....a reasonable crashout.

"I was a god...or at least that's what I thought. But no. I've been lied to. A master of deceit...has been lied to again!! What cruel irony! This world...this life of mine....it's all been one big game from the start! And nobody knows but I!! HAHAHA!! Tell me, [username]..what's it like being the true god of this world? Do you enjoy toying with our lives? What makes you think you deserve my power?! Damn you....and damn this prison!! YOU'RE NO BETTER THAN THOSE WITCHES!!!"

Other cookies just see him screaming at nobody in particular, although his rage forms rifts in the ground, from which the other-realm creeps out to attack anyone close to him.

You end up closing the game out of fear, leaving it alone for the next several hours.

While initially scared to reopen it, you did understand why Shadow Milk lashed out like that--he thought he was in control, and couldn't comprehend the idea of it being somebody else.

You don't know why he, of all cookies, had to be cursed with this forbidden knowledge, but what could be done about it now?

Nothing.

So you returned to the game and found a plushie of him somewhere after looking around for a few minutes, and after clicking him, he turns back to normal and scowls.

"What? You've come back to toy with me more, stupid god? Or were you just worried that I did something to your precious kingdom?"

"No, and no." You say, explaining to him that while you'd never fully understand what he was feeling--and couldn't help him explain your existence to other cookies--you wanted him to see you as a friend, not a puppet master or a witch or some untouchable god like he accuses you of being.

To show him you're serious, you bought all of his decor and gave him his own little castle/spire-like area, where he can indulge in his hobbies or just retreat there whenever he wanted to.

For some time, Shadow Milk is silent as he inspects everything and for a moment...you thought he reverted back to his NPC programming...

Then he looks at you and grins a little. "Jeez, if only you put this much effort into the rest of the kingdom."

"Yeah, well...I'm working on it." You chuckled. "Black Sapphire and Candy Apple Cookie think it's "dull" and doesn't compare to your spire, but-"

"I'll deal with them later. This...is acceptable."

It's fair to say...he's content.

He seems to finally accept his new reality, as he doesn't corrupt his stats or sabotage your gameplay anymore, allowing you to use him as your strongest magic cookie again.

Now if you start shifting your focus towards pulling Awakened Pure Vanilla, however, he might stir up some trouble to make the process take even longer

[wisteriasymphony]

ladrien is cool in its fuckedupness because it's so comfortably distant. they're both in their fake personas, they know the other is in their fake persona, and they're entirely willing to and enthusiastic about keeping up the charade. every interaction feels scripted and they both love this about it. there's never any danger in it because they're never required to be vulnerable whatsoever. they never have to be honest, they never have to be genuine, and they never expect the other to be genuine, and there's probably some twisted sort of comfort in knowing that the other person is never expecting you to take off their mask. that you can just lie and keep lying and it's fine

marichat is cool in its fuckedupness because it's so uncomfortably close. they both know each other so well but are unable to admit why, so they're just overly-friendly and don't have boundaries where they arguably should. there is no pretense to be civil or respectable so marichat comes with the grossest jokes and awkwardest silences and flippant displays of bad behavior. chat has no idea what proper boundaries should look like when someone isn't Using A Mask, and marinette is in no position to draw her foot in the sand* because being authoritative is for ladybug!!! so they're violating each others boundaries and making each other uncomfortable CONSTANTLY!!!

and like the others idk.

[hyruling]

number 50 for the prompts! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

50. putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up

—

“You’re staring.”

He is. Has been, all night, and apparently finally been caught.

They’re in the kitchen, again, and Buck is watching him, flushed from the alcohol they’ve been drinking and the exertion of the game of charades that got a little too rowdy. Everyone else is in the living room, clustered around Bobby like a herd of elephants protecting their young, and when Buck got up to refill the snacks Eddie unfolded himself from the armchair and followed.

So yeah, he’s been staring. As if it’s his fault. Buck is wearing that cardigan that pulls tight across his chest and makes his eyes look stupidly blue. He’s forgone any hair product, curls bouncy and so touchable it’s been driving him crazy all night. And Bobby is in his house, something he thought he’d never get to see again. Chris is home, tucked away in his room with Denny and Mara and probably Jee, entertaining themselves away from the embarrassing adults. The world is right again, and pleasantly fuzzy from all the wine Karen’s been plying him with all night.

And Buck. He’s already mentioned the cardigan, and the hair, but Buck has been in his element tonight. Full of laughter, the spirit Eddie was worried had been broken forever repaired and thriving. He’s been fluttering around the house, refilling drinks and serving food with a bright smile that he can’t get enough of.

Buck’s glancing over at him now, hands busy with re-plating a charcuterie board. He has a soft smile just for Eddie, and it makes him a little nauseous with how painfully in love with him he is. How stupid he’s been to have wasted so much time pretending he wasn’t.

“Earth to Eddie?” Buck says, grin widening into something teasing.

“Hmm?” Eddie asks, settling against the counter behind him while Buck works at the island. He fiddles with his wineglass, nearly empty, and watches Buck cut up a block of gouda cheese. He’s pushed the sleeves of the cardigan to his elbows, forearms flexing, and Eddie can’t quite make himself look away.

“I said you’re staring,” Buck repeats with a little laugh. “Did you follow me in here just to watch, or are you gonna help?”

“I’m fine right here,” Eddie answers, delighting in Buck’s eye roll, the blush that creeps into his cheeks. “It’s a good view.”

Buck goes crimson, drops the block of cheddar he’d been about to slice. “Eddie. You can’t say that kind of shit when I have a knife in my hand.”

“Why?” Eddie teases, and the back of Buck’s neck turns red. Not for the first time, Eddie wonders how far it spreads. “Does it make you flustered, Buckley?”

He knows it does. But that certainty was hard earned, having spent weeks agonizing over living in such close quarters with Buck, telling himself all kinds of stories about why his heart raced when their hands brushed over the coffee pot, convinced Buck must not feel the same way. Until his tía had walloped him upside the head, metaphorically speaking, a few weeks in and told him to lock Buck down before it was too late.

In her own words, of course.

He suspects she had a similar conversation with Buck, given the way he’d come inside after seeing her to her car, red-faced and avoiding Eddie’s eyes. They’d stuttered and tiptoed around each other for a few days before settling back into their normal, which Eddie had finally come to realize was not most people’s normal.

“I—shut up,” Buck says, and picks up the cheese.

But now that he’s started, he can’t help himself. Fueled by three and a half glasses of wine, and the profound joy that’s bursting to spill out of his ribcage, he inches closer until his hip presses into the island right next to Buck.

Buck goes briefly rigid but recovers quickly — Eddie wouldn’t even have noticed the slip if he wasn’t watching him so closely. He keeps slicing cheese methodically, eyes fixed determinedly on his hands.

“Looking a little flushed there, bud,” Eddie says. “Too much wine?”

Buck huffs and flushes harder. “I only had two glasses. What’s that, your fourth?”

“You monitoring my drinking?” Eddie asks, and Buck chuckles.

“Only cause I know you’ll have a massive headache later,” Buck replies. “Good thing I stocked up on Excedrin last week.”

He finishes the cheese and starts in on some sausage, unwrapping it from the plastic, and Eddie can’t resist.

“Nice sausage you got there.”

Buck chokes on spit and drops the knife, turning to face Eddie at last. “Eddie. What is this?”

“What?” Eddie asks innocently. He’s too drunk to properly flirt, never flirted with a man before and is rusty nonetheless; but Buck is responding beautifully, in a way that he knows only he could tease out of him.

“You’re complimenting my sausage?”

Eddie shrugs. “It’s a nice one, that’s all. Thick, firm. I’d like to taste it—”

Buck’s hand covers his mouth, cutting him off, and his blood sings from the contact, from Buck flush against him, so close he could count his eyelashes. He barely resists the urge to lick his hand.

“Eddie,” Buck says in a low, plaintive voice that’s doing nothing to calm down his dick, which is not uninterested in the sudden lack of personal space. “You gotta—you know what you’re doing. Don’t—don’t be mean.”

And that—he knows then that they’re not on equal footing, that Buck is still operating under the illusion that Eddie’s not attainable, not already his. That the uptick in Eddie’s heated stares, his hand on Buck’s lower back while he’s cooking, the hip checks at the bathroom sink, have not communicated as clearly as he thought how much he wants this.

So Eddie nods, still silenced by Buck’s hand, and purses his lips until Buck can feel them against his palm. Buck snags it back like he’s been burned, eyes wide.

“Yeah, Buck,” Eddie says softly. He picks up Buck’s hand and presses another kiss to his knuckles, keeping his eyes fixed on Buck’s. “I do know what I’m doing.”

Buck looks lost, staring at him the way he had when Eddie appeared amongst the rubble and dust weeks ago — like he’s a ghost, like he’d never seen him before.

“A-are you sure? Because Eddie, I can’t—”

Eddie closes the scant distance between them, catches Buck’s jaw in one hand, and kisses him.

Buck doesn’t kiss him back at first, frozen in Eddie’s gentle grip — and then he’s making a soft, hurt sound and pulling Eddie closer, hands immediately snaking under his shirt to find the skin of Eddie’s back. His head spins when Buck’s tongue teases at his lips, and he tastes like wine and salt and—

“Buckaroo, what’s the hold up—oh.”

Buck rips away, putting nearly a foot of space between them, and Eddie laughs, giddy. Chim looks like the cat who got the cream when he turns around, face split into a wide grin.

“Whatcha doing gentlemen?” he asks with a snap his gum, crossing his arms and tilting his head.

Buck sputters behind him, but Eddie just shrugs and leans back until he feels Buck’s chest pressed against his back.

“Nothing really. I was just asking Buck about his sausa—”

Buck’s hand slaps over Eddie’s mouth again, pulling him tighter against his chest with the move, and Chim howls out a laugh.

“I knew it!” he cries, clapping his hands together and spinning around. “Maddie! You owe me fifty bucks!”

“Hey!” Buck calls, but it’s too late — Chim’s gone.

Eddie does lick Buck’s hand then, and Buck releases him with a squeal. Eddie turns around and chuckles at Buck’s red face, staring at him helplessly. He can’t help but lean up to press a kiss to his flushed cheek, stroking over the other with a gentle thumb.

“We’re about to be swarmed,” Eddie says. He can already hear exclamations and shrieks coming from the living room and knows they have seconds before their little bubble is shattered. “I love you, and I mean it. And I really can’t wait to try your sausage.”

Buck snorts and drops his head to press against Eddie’s forehead, eyes brimming with what look like tears. Eddie thumbs a stray one away with the hand on his cheek. “Eddie, I—I love you so much, it’s—I—”

“What have we here?”

It’s Hen that breaks them apart this time. Buck’s smiling sheepishly over Eddie’s shoulder, and when Eddie turns, he sees at least four people trying to crowd in the doorway, the rest cloistered behind them in the dining room. Buck sighs, and drops a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head before beckoning them in.

“Alright. Get in here, you animals.”

Like a dam breaking their family descends, pouring into every nook and cranny, and Eddie swears his kitchen has never felt so warm.

—

prompts xo

[thursdayg1rl]

so there is no suitcase and my sister has just told me to start packing (presumably on behalf of my aunt)

[vividseoultales]

Me or You? ( Haewon x Male Reader )

tags : fluff smut

"You can't be serious," you said, trying to hold back a chuckle. Haewon looked at you with a mix of frustration and hope. She had been hinting at this for a while now, but you had never thought she'd bring it up so directly.

"I am," she replied, her voice firm yet slightly trembling. "I just want us to explore new things, to spice up our relationship."

Her eyes searched yours for a hint of understanding, but all you could do was shake your head. The thought of her as a dominant in the bedroom was amusing, almost comical, given her usual gentle and caring nature. But you could see this was something she was genuinely interested in, something that meant a lot to her. You didn't want to dismiss her feelings, so you took a deep breath and tried to approach the subject more seriously.

"Okay baby" you began, "I'm willing to listen. But why do you want to do this?"

Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink as she fiddled with her fingers. "I've read about it, and…I think it could bring us closer, or at least add some excitement."

You nodded, stroking her hair to comfort her. "Alright, tell me more."

"Well," Haewon started, her voice growing a bit steadier, "I've always been the one who's more passive in the relationship. I want to feel in charge for a change, to see you vulnerable and open to me in a way you've never been before."

You could feel the tension in the room as she spoke. This was a side of her you hadn't seen before, but you were willing to give it a shot. "What does being a sub entail?" you asked, trying to keep your voice neutral.

"Well, it's about submission, letting go of control," she explained, her eyes meeting yours with a newfound determination. "You'd have to do as I say, follow my commands, and trust me completely."

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. "So, you want to boss me around in bed?" You couldn't help but tease her, hoping to lighten the mood.

"I'm not joking," she said with a playful glare, though a hint of a smile played on her lips. "But yes, I want to see how it feels to take control."

You leaned back on the couch, considering the idea. "Okay, so let's say we do this. What exactly do you have in mind? Will I have to wear a collar and call you mistress?"

Her cheeks grew redder, but she held your gaze. "No, nothing so…extreme. Just simple commands and gestures. I'd like to tie you up, maybe blindfold you, and explore your body without you knowing what's coming next."

You studied her for a moment, trying to gauge if she was okay with this or if it was just something she felt she had to do to satisfy a curiosity. "Baby," you said gently, "you want this for me or for you?"

Her eyes searched yours, and she bit her lip, a gesture that was usually reserved for when she was more aroused than usual. This time, however, it seemed like she was more aroused at the idea of being the sub. It was a revelation that made your heart race.

"You know what, baby?" You leaned in closer, your voice a low murmur. "I think you're the one who's more curious about this than you're letting on." You reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Do you actually want me to do all of that to you?"

Haewon's eyes widened, and she tried to hide her arousal, but the way she swallowed hard and her pupils dilated was a dead giveaway. She took a deep breath before finally admitting, "Yes, I do. I want to feel…dominated."

You couldn't resist the urge to roll your eyes, a smirk playing on your lips. "Why the whole charade, baby?" you teased. "You could've just told me you wanted me to take control."

She pouted at you, her full bottom lip pushing out in a way that was so cute, it was almost comical. But it also had a hint of that sweet, innocent vulnerability that you found utterly irresistible. "Because," she mumbled, "I didn't know how to say it."

You leaned closer to her, your breath warm against her cheek. "Say it," you whispered, your voice a soft command. "Tell me what you really want."

Her eyes searched yours for a brief moment before she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I…I want you to fuck me, baby. I want you to take control, to do whatever you want to me."

You couldn't help the smirk that curled up your lips. "Say it again," you told her, your voice low and commanding. "But this time, on your knees."

With a look of surprise and a hint of excitement, Haewon slid off the couch and onto her knees before you, her eyes never leaving yours. The sight was unexpectedly hot, and you felt a stirring in your lower regions that you hadn't anticipated.

"I…I want you to fuck me," she repeated, her voice a bit shaky, but the words came out with more conviction this time. You could see the desire in her eyes, a raw hunger that was new and thrilling. It was clear that the idea of you being in control was turning her on more than you had ever seen before.

Without saying another word, you stood up and took a step back. "Good girl," you said, your voice a soft purr. "Now, I want you to make me hard, but you're not allowed to touch my cock with your hands."

Her eyes widened, and she looked up at you, clearly surprised by your sudden dominance. But the excitement on her face was undeniable. She took a deep breath and leaned forward, her hands resting on her thighs. You could see her mind racing, trying to figure out how to proceed.

"Use your mouth, your nose, your cheeks," you instructed, your voice firm and commanding. "Rub your face all over me until I'm hard as a rock."

Her pupils dilated, and she swallowed hard before tentatively leaning forward. You watched as she brought her face closer to your crotch, her breath hot against the fabric of your pants. The anticipation was killing you, but you remained stoic, allowing her to take the lead.

With a shaky start, Haewon began to rub her cheek against your growing erection, the roughness of your jeans a stark contrast to the softness of her skin. Her breathing grew heavier, and she closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of your cock growing harder with every pass of her face. You could feel her warm breath through the fabric, making you throb with desire.

"Good," you praised, the single word sending a shiver down her spine. "Now, take it out. But remember, no hands."

Her eyes sparkled with challenge as she leaned in closer, her mouth mere inches from the zipper of your pants. With a coy smile, she nuzzled against the bulge, her nose tracing the outline of your cock. You could feel her breath hot and wet through the fabric, and you had to clench your fists to keep from reaching out to touch her.

With a soft moan, Haewon began to nibble at the zipper, her teeth grazing the metal. You felt the zipper slowly give way, the sound of it descending echoing in the quiet room. She looked up at you, her eyes half-lidded with desire, and you nodded in approval. She had taken the hint, understanding the game you were playing.

Her hands remained firmly on her thighs as she leaned in closer, her tongue flicking out to trace the path her teeth had made. The anticipation was exhilarating, watching her explore this newfound boldness. As she reached the top of your jeans, she paused, her breath hot against your skin.

"How do you expect me to do that without hands?" she asked, a playful lilt in her voice. You smirked, enjoying the challenge she presented.

"Use your teeth," you ordered, your voice firm and commanding.

Her eyes lit up with a mischievous glint as she took the challenge, her teeth delicately gripping the fabric of your underwear. With a gentle tug, she managed to free your cock from its confines. You watched, entranced, as she licked her lips, her eyes never leaving yours. The power dynamic was shifting, and it was surprisingly intoxicating.

"Now, suck," you commanded, the words coming out more forcefully than you had intended. But the look of excitement in Haewon's eyes told you she liked it. She leaned in, her tongue tracing a line from the base of your shaft to the tip. You felt a jolt of pleasure at her touch, and you had to remind yourself to stay in control.

Her eyes remained locked on yours as she took the head of your cock into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing out as she began to suck. It was clear she was enjoying herself, her movements eager and hungry. You couldn't help but let out a groan of pleasure, the sound echoing through the room.

"Harder," you instructed, your voice a gruff whisper. Haewon complied, taking you deeper, her teeth lightly scraping against the sensitive skin. Your hands found their way into her hair, gripping it tightly as she bobbed her head. The sensation was exquisite, a mix of pleasure and pain that sent shivers down your spine.

You could feel yourself losing control, but you held onto it by a thread, reminding yourself that this was her moment to shine. You watched her, her eyes closed in concentration, her cheeks flushed with excitement. It was clear she was enjoying herself, her body moving with an enthusiasm that was both surprising and incredibly arousing.

But as much as you wanted to let her continue, you knew you needed to assert your dominance, to show her what it truly meant to submit. So, with a firm grip on her hair, you gently pulled her head back, her mouth popping off your cock with a wet sound that filled the room. Her eyes snapped open, looking up at you with a mix of confusion and excitement.

"Beg for it," you said, your voice a low growl. Haewon's eyes widened, but she didn't hesitate. "Please," she whispered, her voice thick with need.

You smirked and took your cock in your hand, pulling it away from her face. It glistened with her saliva, and the sight of it made your heart race. You brought it closer to her, letting it hover just out of reach. "Beg louder," you instructed, your grip tightening.

Her eyes searched yours, and you could see the struggle within her - the part that wanted to protest and the part that wanted to submit. Finally, she opened her mouth, and the words came out in a rush. "Please, baby," she moaned, "please let me suck you off."

But you had other plans. You moved your cock closer to her eager lips, watching the desperation in her eyes as she leaned in. Just as she was about to take it into her mouth, you stopped her, pulling it away and smearing the saliva across her cheeks and nose instead. Haewon's eyes widened in surprise, and she gasped, her breathing becoming shallower as you painted her face with your desire.

"Not yet," you murmured, enjoying the power play. "First, I want to see how well you can follow orders."

With a smirk, you grabbed the base of your cock and held it firmly, pressing the tip against her cheek. Haewon's eyes went wide with excitement and a touch of fear, but she didn't protest. You began to rub her face against your shaft, feeling the wetness from her mouth smeared along the length of it. Her breath was hot and ragged, and you could see the way she was trying to keep her hands still, her fingers twitching with the need to touch you.

"Good girl," you praised, watching her carefully. "You're doing so well." The more you rubbed, the redder her cheeks grew, and you knew she was feeling both humiliated and incredibly turned on by the sensation. It was a heady mix of emotions that was driving her wild, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill of dominance at the sight of her submission.

You could see the struggle in her eyes, the part of her that was fighting against the urge to touch you, to take control. But she remained still, her breath coming in shallow gasps as you continued to smear your precum across her face. "Look at me," you said, your voice a low command.

Her eyes snapped back to yours, and you watched as she tried to focus, the pleasure and submission fighting for dominance. "That's it," you whispered, your hand still guiding her face against your shaft. "Keep looking at me."

The sensation was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Haewon's eyes were practically rolled back in her head as she moaned, the sound muffled against your cock. Her body trembled with anticipation, and you could feel her breath hitch as you continued to rub her face against your length. The smear of your precum on her cheeks and nose was a stark reminder of her submissive role, and she found it strangely erotic.

"Now," you murmured, your grip on her hair tightening, "make me cum, but only with your face."

Her eyes widened, but she didn't argue. Instead, she leaned in closer, her cheeks already wet with your desire. She began to rub her face against your cock more vigorously, her breath hitching as she took in the scent of your arousal. You watched her, the power in the moment making your chest tighten with excitement.

Her movements grew more desperate, her moans louder. You could see the desperation in her eyes, the hunger that was consuming her. This was a side of Haewon you had never seen before, and it was more intoxicating than you could have imagined. The way she submitted to you was like watching a beautiful creature being unleashed, all inhibitions forgotten in the pursuit of pleasure.

As she rubbed her face harder and faster against your cock, you could feel your orgasm building. The way she moved, the sounds she made, the absolute surrender in her eyes—it was all too much. You had to clench your fists to keep from grabbing her and fucking her mouth like you wanted to. But this was her moment, her chance to explore her newfound submissiveness.

With a few more firm strokes of her face, you felt the tension in your body coil tighter. Your hips jerked slightly, and you warned her, "I'm going to cum, baby." Her eyes widened even more, and she leaned in closer, eager for it. The anticipation was unbearable, your cock throbbing with the need to release.

The moment came, and you couldn't hold back any longer. You let out a roar as hot ropes of cum shot out, coating her cheeks, nose, and even reaching her forehead. Haewon's eyes closed instinctively, but she remained still, allowing you to paint her face with your seed. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of relief and power that had you seeing stars.

As the last drops fell from your cock, you pulled away from her. She remained kneeling, her face a mess of your desire, and you could see her tongue darting out, trying to catch any lingering traces of your cum. But before she could swipe a taste, you gripped her chin firmly, forcing her to look up at you.

"Not yet," you said, a wicked smile playing on your lips. "You don't get to decide when or if you get to taste it." Her eyes widened in surprise and a flicker of something that could only be described as excitement. The power exchange was thrilling, and she was clearly eager to see where this new dynamic would take them.

With a gentle yet firm grip, you lifted her chin, making her look up at you. Her eyes were glazed over with lust, and the sight was enough to make you even harder. "Ask nicely," you whispered, enjoying the way she squirmed under your control.

"Please," Haewon whimpered, her voice small and needy. "Please, may I taste your cum?"

You couldn't help but smirk at her begging. It was a side of her you hadn't seen before, and it was incredibly hot. "Beg like you mean it," you ordered, your grip on her chin tightening.

Her eyes searched yours, the desire in them burning like a wildfire. "Please," she gasped, her voice trembling. "Please, let me taste your cum."

With a smirk, you released her chin, watching as she leaned in, her tongue darting out to catch the first drops that had fallen on her cheek. The sight of her eagerly lapping up your cum was more than you could handle. "Good girl," you murmured, watching her every move. "Now, don't waste any of it."

Haewon's eyes never left yours as she began to clean her face, her tongue swirling around to capture every last bit of your essence. She took her time, savoring the taste, her cheeks hollowing with each swipe. It was a sight that made your cock throb with the need to be back in her mouth, but you held back, enjoying the moment of power.

"Good girl," you murmured, your voice thick with lust. You reached down and gently stroked her face, feeling the stickiness of your cum on her skin. "Look at you, so eager to please me."

Her eyes never left yours as she continued to clean herself off, her tongue moving with a hunger that was palpable. You couldn't help but notice that she was quite literally dripping wet, her juices leaving a small pool on the floor beneath her knees. The sight sent a jolt of desire through you, making your cock throb with renewed vigor.

"What's that?" you asked, pointing to the growing wet spot on the floor. Haewon's cheeks reddened even further, and she remained silent, her eyes darting down to the floor and back up to yours. You knew she was embarrassed, but you couldn't help the smirk that spread across your face.

"Looks like you're enjoying yourself," you said, your voice filled with amusement. "You're so fucking wet, you're practically pissing out vagina fluid."

The crudeness of your words made her blush even more, but she didn't protest. Instead, she licked her lips, her eyes never leaving yours. You knew she was desperate for you to take her, to show her what it truly meant to be a sub. But you weren't done playing yet.

"Clean it up," you smirked, pointing to the floor. She looked up at you with a mix of surprise and excitement, her pupils dilating even further. It was clear that the idea of being ordered around was pushing all the right buttons for her.

Without a word, Haewon leaned forward, her tongue darting out to lick at the sticky wetness that had pooled on the floor. The sight of her, so eager to follow your command, had your cock pulsing with need. You couldn't help but stroke yourself, watching her every move as she lapped up the evidence of her arousal. Her movements were slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving yours as she cleaned the floor with her tongue.

The sight was more than you could bear, and you felt your own orgasm building again. You whispered to yourself that you could cum just from watching her, but you held back, savoring the moment. You wanted to prolong this newfound power, to enjoy the way she looked up at you with such submission.

"What do you want, baby?" you asked her, your voice a low rumble of desire. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."

Her eyes searched yours, the desire in them so intense it was almost painful. "I want you to fuck me," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Hard. I want to feel you take me, like you own me."

A shiver of excitement ran down your spine at her words. The power you held over her was intoxicating, and the way she begged for your touch was like nothing you had ever experienced before. You stepped closer, your cock now fully erect again, and placed your hand on the back of her neck, pushing her face closer to your crotch.

"Get up," you ordered, your voice low and commanding.

Her eyes widened, but she didn't hesitate. Haewon slowly rose to her feet, her knees wobbling slightly from being in the submissive pose for so long. She kept her eyes on the floor, a blush spreading across her cheeks that was almost painfully adorable. You could see the excitement in her body language, the way she held her breath as she awaited your next move.

"Take off your clothes," you tell her, your voice a soft growl. She nodded, her hands shaking as she reached for the hem of her shirt. She lifted it up, revealing her lacy black bra and the smooth, pale skin of her stomach. With trembling fingers, she unclipped the clasp, letting the fabric fall away to expose her perfect breasts. They bounced slightly as she let the shirt drop to the floor, and you couldn't help but admire the way the light played across her nipples, which were already hard with arousal.

"Good girl," you praised, watching her intently as she reached for her pants. She slid them down, her panties following, leaving her naked before you. You took a step closer, taking in the sight of her. Haewon's body was a work of art, and the way she looked at you—like you were the only person in the world who mattered—was intoxicating.

"Now, bend over the couch," you instructed, your voice still firm but with a hint of excitement. She complied without hesitation, her ass in the air, her cheeks red with both arousal and embarrassment. You stepped behind her, taking a moment to admire the way her back arched and her breasts pressed against the cool leather of the couch.

You leaned down, your breath hot against her skin as you whispered, "Spread your legs wider." Haewon's body responded instantly, her legs parting to give you a full view of her glistening pussy. The sight of her wetness was almost too much to handle, and you had to fight the urge to bury your cock in her right then and there.

Instead, you positioned yourself behind her, the head of your erection teasing at the entrance to her core. You watched as she squirmed, her body begging for you to fill her. But you weren't ready to give in just yet. You pulled back slightly, dragging your wet tip through her folds, collecting her arousal like a brush painting a canvas. She moaned, her hips pushing back in a silent plea for more contact.

With a smirk, you pushed forward, feeling the resistance of her tight pussy as it stretched to accommodate you. Haewon let out a sharp squeal, her body tensing up as you entered her with a single, firm thrust. Her wetness made the initial penetration easier, but the grip of her inner muscles was still surprisingly tight. You could feel her tremble beneath you, the sudden intrusion a mix of pain and pleasure that was written all over her face.

But before she could adjust fully to your size, you reached back and slapped her ass—hard. The sound echoed through the room, and Haewon's body jerked in response, her pussy clamping down around you like a vice. The shock of the impact sent a bolt of pleasure through her, and she came immediately, her body convulsing as a wave of orgasm crashed over her.

You had never seen her like this before. In all the times you've been together, in all the moments of shared passion, this was something new. Her eyes squeezed shut tightly, her mouth a silent 'O' of surprise and pleasure. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she moaned in a way that was almost animalistic. Her whole body was shaking, and you felt her muscles tighten around you as she came.

But you didn't give her time to recover. Your desire was too great, the power exchange too thrilling to stop now. With a firm grip on her hips, you started to move, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into her. She gasped, her eyes flying open to look back at you over her shoulder, a mix of shock and excitement on her face.

"Is this what you want?" you growled, driving into her again and again. "To be used by me?"

Her response was a whimper, her body still trembling from the force of her orgasm. "Yes," she managed to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, baby, use me."

That was all the encouragement you needed. You began to fuck her in earnest, your hips slamming into her ass with a ferocity that left her breathless. Each thrust was punctuated by a slap against her skin, the sound of skin on skin music to your ears. Haewon's moans grew louder, her body moving in time with yours as you claimed her in a way that was both brutal and beautiful.

Her pussy was soaking wet, making it easier for you to slide in and out of her with every pump of your hips. You reached around to her clit, feeling it pulse beneath your fingers as you began to rub it in rhythm with your thrusts. She was so close, her body begging for release, but you weren't ready to give it to her just yet.

"Beg for it," you demanded, your voice gruff with desire.

Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip, trying to hold back the moan that was threatening to spill out. "Please," she whimpered, her voice cracking with need. "Please, let me come."

You smirked, enjoying the way her body responded to your control. "Not yet," you said, your voice low and firm. "You'll come when I say so."

Her eyes pleaded with you, and you knew she was close. The muscles in her pussy clenched around your cock, and she was panting heavily, her entire body trembling with need. You felt a thrill at the power you held over her, the way she was willing to submit to your every whim. It was a heady sensation that made you want to push her even further.

You reached up and grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her head back as you drove into her even deeper. "Who do you belong to?" you demanded, your voice a low growl.

"I belong to you," she gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head. The pain from your grip only added to the pleasure, and she knew you could see it on her face.

Your pace grew even more frenzied, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room along with Haewon's cries of pleasure. Her pussy was clamping down around your cock, trying to milk you dry, but you were in control. You knew exactly when to ease off and when to push harder, when to rub her clit in just the right way to send her over the edge.

"Now," you finally ordered, your hand moving away from her hair to give her neck a gentle squeeze. "Come for me, baby. Show me how much you like being my little slut."

Her eyes rolled back, and with a scream of pleasure, Haewon's body convulsed as another powerful orgasm ripped through her. Her pussy spasmed around your cock, her juices flooding out to mix with the sweat on her thighs. You watched her, the sight of her total submission sending another jolt of lust through your body.

Your grip on her hips tightened as you felt your own release approaching. Each slap of your skin against her ass grew wetter, and the sound grew more pronounced. You could feel the tension building in your balls, and with one final, deep thrust, you emptied yourself inside her, filling her up with your cum. The feeling was indescribable, the heat of your release mixing with her own, creating a symphony of pleasure that had you groaning with satisfaction.

For a moment, you remained there, buried deep inside her, your chest heaving with exertion. Then, you slowly pulled out, watching as your cum trickled down her legs, mixing with the wetness of her pussy. Haewon's body was still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at the effect you had on her.

With a gentle tug, you helped her up, her legs wobbly as she leaned into you. You both stumbled over to the couch, collapsing onto it with a laugh. She snuggled into you, her head on your chest, and you wrapped your arms around her, holding her tight. Her breathing was still ragged, her heart racing from the intense experience you'd just shared.

For a few moments, you just enjoyed the quiet, feeling the warmth of her body pressed against yours. Then she looked up at you with a shy smile. "That was… intense," she murmured, her voice still thick with lust. You couldn't help but chuckle at her understatement.

"You liked it?" you asked, already knowing the answer.

Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red, but she nodded. "I liked it more than I thought I would," she admitted, her voice small but earnest. You felt a surge of satisfaction at her response. You had never seen Haewon this way—so raw and vulnerable—and it was incredibly arousing.

"Do you want to switch next time?" you asked her, your voice a low murmur as you stroked her hair. Haewon's smile grew wider, but she shook her head. "No, I like this" she whispered, her eyes never leaving yours. "I want to be yours, to do whatever you want."

You leaned down and kissed her, feeling her melt into your embrace. Her submission was like a drug, and you were already craving more. But for now, you were content to hold her close, the warmth of her body seeping into yours as you both came down from the intense high.

[lxmitlxss]

tag dump

[lamb-teaa]

` Choose Us, Choose Me

` pairing: colonel!Caleb x mechanic!reader

` tags: canon divergence!! strictly doesn't follow canon timeline!! but might seem similar?? idk tbh. anyway ANGST. full hurt no comfort. vague plot. vague relationship. vague mentions of betrayal and double agents. vvvery short scenario.

` teaa's note: having to wait for 22 Jan for Caleb's full lore to drop, imma indulge in my personal headcanon for this ficlet instead - a special (&painful) treat for all the Caleb girlies (and me ehe!) (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

Your silence is the cruelest punishment he had ever endured.

Yet Caleb too remained silent as he watched you meticulously work on repairing his damaged bionic arm, not once had you uttered a single word since his impromptu arrival at your workshop stationed within the massive spaceship.

You merely glanced at him, your tired gaze instantly flickering towards his shortcircuiting arm before letting out a small huff of annoyance as you slammed the coffee mug on the messy table. Like a routine checkup, you wordlessly pointed towards the empty seat and began working on fixing his bionic arm back to good as new.

All the while the tense atmosphere remained palpable within the workshop. Even your trusty little invention-slash-companion robot, Brownie had jumped over the table, holding out all the necessary tools for you to fix Caleb up, yet the presence of the adorable little brown robot cat wasn't enough to shimmer down the tension in the air.

Your expression remained aloof yet the look in your eyes held a strong suppressed rage. Caleb winced when you purposely handled his arm a tad bit too roughly, shooting a side eyed glare at Brownie snickering at him, a clear message of 'you deserve it!' written all over your little companion's face.

Caleb was tempted to send the smug rascal flying across the room using his Evol.

...But he wouldn't want to risk facing your wrath, not when you're still mad pissed at him right now.

"...You know I had to do it." Caleb decided to break the silence first, his eyes locked onto your face, hoping to ease down your anger even just a little bit. "I was following orders."

You stayed silent, nonchalantly avoiding his gaze as your attention was solely on the holographic screen displaying the restoration process.

Caleb gritted his teeth, growing agitated by your lack of response. Why were you so stubborn? Why couldn't you understand him? Why do you have to subject him to this stupid silent treatment of yours?

Why can't you see he's doing all this for your sake?

"It's done." You finally spoke after a long tense silence, your voice cold and detached as you did the final adjustments on his bionic arm. His piercing stare was suffocating you and you wanted nothing more than to be out of his sight. "Now get out."

You had only turned around for a brief millisecond before his hand suddenly snatched your wrist, pulling you close to him. His taller frame towering over you, his face confronted in a mixture of anguish and pain - a sight that made your heart ache, but you refuse to show any weakness, not in front of him, especially not in front of a cruel man like him.

"How long are you going to keep this up?" Caleb spoke lowly, struggling to suppress his own anger. "Aren't you tired of these charades of yours?"

You glared up at him defiantly, despite the slight tremble from his iron grip. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb with me." He scowled, his grip on your wrist tightened slightly. "How long are you going to play both sides? Do you think they're going to let you off easily once they find out you've been secretly colluding with the enemy?"

His heart sank in dread at your unfazed reaction, as if you've been expecting this to happen sooner or later, that the consequences be damned if it meant fulfilling your own secret mission no matter the cost.

Even at the expense of your own wellbeing.

"..Choose us." Choose me. Caleb shut his eyes briefly before letting go of your wrist, his voice strained with a soft plea as his hands gently cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him. "I can guarantee your safety if you choose our side, please Princess. You'll die if you keep this up."

He sees the flicker of hesitation in your eyes, the conflict swimming in those alluring gaze that never fail to make his heart stutter. But as soon as that raising hope for you turn to his side came, it vanished in an instant when you slapped his hands away.

"I'd rather much die." You spat, your fist clutched the collar of his shirt as you glared up at him, the hatred and disgust written all over your face as your final words shattered his heart into pieces.

"Than to serve the likes of abominations like you.”

[no-144444]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sounds like you have it all. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you need your makeup touched up?”

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

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

“Fuck!” You groaned. “Fuck this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bullshit.

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

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

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

Oh. I guess it changed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the worst part was that nobody noticed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n.”

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

Oh. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

“Have you eaten?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lando was entranced. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I feel like shit-”

“We all do. Let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Knock knock. 

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

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

You sat up, staring at him. 

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

You nodded. “Good luck today.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” he breathed out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe,” you shrugged. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your best isn’t good enough.”

And he hung up.

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

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

Well, apparently not. 

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

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

“Tell her to piss off!”

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

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

“What?” he groaned, opening the door. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lando nodded. 

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

“What did Y/n say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do,” you chuckled. 

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

The perfect night. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you walked back to Ferrari. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!” you agreed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn’t waste time. 

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

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

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

“Morning?” she answered groggily. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know.”

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Apparently not. 

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

He nodded. It was enough to fool him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You chuckled. “More than anything.”

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

You nodded, looking at him. “I will.”

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

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

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

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

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

landonorris

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

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

comments

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

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

georgerussell: Trying to beat me with no shirt?

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

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

danielriccardo: HAHAHAHAHAH (I'm crying.)

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[etherealily]

same page? // f.odair

My other Finnick fics, if you have the time.

This was from my poll .

Finnick Odair + fem!reader. Warnings: Cuss words.

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : Panem's most publicized situationship.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🌀⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

Make them speculate.

Make them wonder.

Distract them.

Entice them.

Convince them.

He tucked your hair behind your ear, kissing your temple as he did so. Your insides turned. "Are we on or off today?"

"He didn't say."

"Hm.", he murmured against your forehead. "It's up to us, then."

You took a sip of your champagne.

Listen, Finnick Odair was a fucking menace.

Seven years. Seven years of this shit.

"Do you never wonder what it'd be like if we actually did end up marrying each other?"

"The entire Capitol would burn down.", you scoffed softly, eyes running around the room.

"Snow would be pissed, for one. It's a will-they/won't-they until we do."

"Which we won't."

He pouted, shaking his head as he brought your hand to his chest. "You wound me."

Your whirlwind romance had swept Panem off its feet. According to their knowledge, you'd first met at a Post-Games party, after your first time as a mentor, and you couldn't keep your eyes off each other. Cue the mess.

On and off. Sometimes, never, and always. That was you and Finnick, in the eyes of Panem.

It wasn't exactly all false. In the beginning it really had just been you, Finnick, and a couple of nights that neither of you wished to label. But there was no sex, that was what was morbidly hilarious here. Just deep, drunken conversations.

In Panem, the most intimate thing you could do with someone was not sex, no, it was developing a true connection, and that's what had happened all those nights — what had scared you both.

So sue you if you didn't want to label that shit. It'd only end badly for the both of you.

Sure, Finnick might have thought he might, possibly, maybe want more. But that was only on late nights when he was watching the moon or nostalgic footage of District Four on the TV, but at the end of the day, both of you knew this decision was the best.

Toxic, definitely, but at the end of the day, although his long string of dalliances followed his reputation everywhere he went, he always came back to you.

Panem thought it was because no matter how twisted, he always loved you.

Snow thought Panem would like that.

You preferred that than actually discussing with him why he always came back.

"Off.", you replied.

"We've been 'off' too many times this year. Snow's going to freak."

He was right. "Fine. Is Caesar here?"

His eyes flicked around the room, scoping it out. "Yes."

You groaned. "He's going to lip read, then."

Caesar Flickerman was a dynamic host as well as an expert lip-reader. You'd only found that out on your second year of this charade, when Finnick had been talking to you about missing home - taboo topic around the Capitol - and Caesar had caught it.

All over the news the next day. He'd had to cover it up and say he meant you were his home. The Capitol went positively feral.

"Look at you, all sexy.", Finnick whispered, with his maddening smirk. "For me?"

"For me." He rolled his eyes. Wrong answer, his glare told you.

"Tell me, gorgeous.", he breathed, hands placed tantalizingly and strategically on your shoulders. "Do the cameras love you as much as I do?"

His iconic line. He'd come up with it three years ago, and it was a cop-out for when he was too tired to come up with any other segue, and besides, the Capitol loved it. It was basically code for you to chill out on the responses, because he was way too exhausted that day.

"Do the cameras love you as much as your family does? Or do you just live here, now? In the Capitol? In the limelight?"

Wait, what?

"I live in my district. Most of the year." The hell was he doing?

"Do you now, beautiful? And why is it you're always here?"

"Why are you always here?"

"Photo ops, of course. Snow needs his best out here all the time to make the Capitol as spectacular-looking as he needs.", he replied, eyes glistening.

"I'm here for the same reason."

"Yes, but you act like you don't give a shit where you are. Like you winning the Games was nothing. Like you being bestowed with riches - more than most, actually, because of the hot little outfits that you model- is nothing. Impassive, deadpan, nonchalant, innocent but too-cool-for-school Y/N.", he mocked.

No way was he actually letting anyone lip read this.

"Caesar's not here, is he?"

He chuckled, nodding. "You're right. I just needed an excuse for you to listen."

"I will not have you judge me."

"Let me kiss you, Y/N."

"What?"

"Please."

"I am not going to let you kiss me. We've got... we can't act as if we've had this conversation in private. It has to progress slowly. Every single moment of ours must be 'accidentally' captured, and jus—"

"Same page?"

He always asked you that before he did something he thought would get the cameras off your back for a couple weeks.

"No! No, no, not this time, what?", you hissed through gritted teeth, doing your damndest to work on your ventriloquism skills.

He rolled his eyes, his lips moving to your cheek. "Let. Me. Kiss. You. I swear, you'll understand."

Finnick's knuckles on your jaw, he tilted his head, as if to say 'come on, I'm already this close'.

You acquiesced.

He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours, before murmuring against them. "Kill Snow with me."

You didn't pull away, you didn't push him away, you didn't frown, you didn't scream. You just froze.

"Johanna— everyone, basically, is on board.", he said, in between kisses to your unresponsive lips. "And the Mockingjay. She... god, Y/N, please, I can tell you're two seconds away from killing me, but please—."

His kisses kept growing more feverish by the second, his hands cupping your face and using it to pull you closer. It was getting increasingly hard to ascertain whether he was addicted to your lips or the words he was corrupting them with.

"Finnick, Finnick, wait—"

"Please, please, Y/N." He was begging. He was pleading. "Just... shh."

"I'm not — stop.", you hissed, and he begrudgingly pulled away, though his lips lingered on your neck. "I'm not going to kill anyone. Not Snow, not you— though I should probably kill you for this. What if you're mic'd? Snow's done that befor—"

"You wouldn't be doing any of the killing, my love.", he smiled against your neck, his hands pulling you flush against his body, and something told you it wasn't even because this whole conversation was supposed to be a secret anymore.

He was drunk. You'd only seen Finnick drunk a couple times - the nights that had led you two to being friends (?) and being spotted talking (obviously fucking, according to the Capitol) - but it had never been this bad. He'd always had some form of control over his faculties.

"Finnick, there's cameras right now, we can't—"

"I'm in love with you, Y/N, more than the cameras."

One good thing about Finnick was that his words never slurred when he was psychotically, unforgivably inebriated. They simply hastened.

"Okay, Finnick, I'll get you back to your—"

"Like so much, and I—"

Before he could say something that could be picked up by the cameras around you and analysed by Caesar, you shook your head, covering his mouth with your palm.

He frowned, making unintelligible noises against your hand.

You rested your forehead against his as you whispered. "We'll talk about this later. Get some rest."

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🌀⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

Hours later, you knocked lightly on the door to his room before walking in gingerly.

He lay down, looking up at the ceiling as though it had every answer he could possibly need.

"Finnick?"

"I'm... a failure."

Shit. "Now, Finnick, remember what you have to do when you think like this? Think of your family. Who you're protecting."

"Oh, my god, princess, it's not himself he's disappointed at."

Johanna motherfucking Mason.

"Johanna?"

"In the flesh. But I won't be for long if you don't listen.", she reminded, elbow on her knee.

You closed the door behind you, locking it as you turned on the light. "You're in on this? It's crazy talk!"

"It's a rebellion. It supposed to sound out-there until you actually do it.", she snorted, hopping off the bay window and stretching.

"It's that District 12 Victor, isn't it? Everdeen-something? She's got you guys all riled up."

"Katniss Everdeen, yes. The Mockingjay."

"Jesus, you guys are all fuckwits."

"C'mon, baby, that's no way to be. I thought you were the polite, innocently sexy one? The one who could never even call someone stupid, let alone a fuckwit.", she pouted.

"Snow will kill everyone you've ever loved."

"He already is. Except it's slower, torturous. This way, we're nipping it at the bud so our kids don't have to go through this bullshit again. What about, uh, you two?", she teased, raising a brow as she gestured between you and a plastered Finnick groaning the headache away. "Your cute little Capitol-bred lovechild will still be made to go through the Games. You don't want that, huh?"

You groaned, yanking open the bedside drawer supply of water bottles, passing it over to him. "Jo."

She raised a brow, sitting next to you. "Y/N."

"You can't kill Snow."

"Watch me, sweetheart."

"Jo, this isn't even funny. She lucked out, alright? Katniss, you said her name was? She lucked out big time. Snow's seething. He's seething, and—"

"We know."

"Lie back down, Finnick, you're drunk."

"I'm hungover. This was a big deal for me, okay? I was nervous you'd react just like this and jeopardize it all, okay? Needed liquid courage. Cut me some slack."

"I'm leaving. I'm not going to fucking sit here and listen to you talk about a rebellion when the Capitol's at their strongest and Snow's at his angriest, it's your funer—"

"You're going back into the Arena!"

You paused at the doorway, your fingers on the frame like it was your only tether to reality. "What?"

"Heavensbee. He told us that the Quarter Quell will reap previous Victors."

"What?"

"Snow wants - needs - Katniss dead."

Your attempts to force breath to stay in your lungs proved futile when you realized exactly what that meant. "You guys are going to try protecting her?"

"We have to."

"No, actually, you don't. Finnick, please don't tell me you're going to volunteer if you aren't reaped."

He groaned, rubbing his face over his hands as he sat up. "There's one chance, and this is it. She is it."

Good lord, you were fucking surrounded by idiots.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🌀⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

The moon was the only beauty you'd found in the Capitol.

Finnick had taught you to look at it. Especially when you were scared. Worried. Or feeling nothing. Or feeling everything. Or feeling too many things.

It worked, actually, but this time, you looked at the moon, and all you could remember was when eighteen-year-old Finnick pointed the moon out to newly-sixteen-year-old you.

"Beautiful, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you know it controls the tides?"

"What?"

"Yeah. That was my reaction when I first heard it, too!", he'd whispered. "It's your sweet sixteen, right? So just go ahead and pray that the tides change. Wish on the moon."

"Tides change?"

"You know, that this whole 'we're-in-love-spiel' can stop."

This had been the first ever year of this goldmine of a plotline for Capitol TV.

"I want to go home."

You'd said that some three times the past couple hours, but you knew Snow wouldn't let you do so.

"I know. Wish on the moon that you can do that, too. Wish on the moon you can spend all of your birthdays with the people you love. Well, besides me, of course.", he'd grinned, nudging your shoulder to make you laugh. "Just wish on the moon."

You'd closed your eyes to do just that.

"It'll take care of the rest.", he'd whispered.

Sweetest boy on Earth, he was back then.

Right now? Ugh. You wished on the moon that he'd get a brain.

A knock.

"What?!" Fine, snapping may not have been the best thing for you to be doing, as your blood pressure was already terrifyingly high.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah, Finnick. Sure. Come in.", you mumbled, rubbing at your forehead.

"I... I can't even begin to apologise. Um... that was—"

"No, it's fine, you're good, it's wh—"

"No, that was... there is no excuse for that. Springing all that on you, and giving you all but five seconds to... I— I don't even know what I was thinking."

"Johanna got in your head, it happens.", you shrugged, watching as he frowned, sitting down opposite you on your bed, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together. Huh. Your tone was understanding, but your words gave him pause.

"Same page?"

"I'd say we are."

"I don't know.", he muttered, picking at his knuckles for a second before turning to you. "Are you with us?"

"Okay, we're not on the same page."

"I thought not."

"Finnick, this is madness. Snow is at his angriest because he got his ass handed to him by two kids from District Twelve. Twelve. Like...", you scoff-laughed, gesturing wildly to illustrate the sheer bizarrity of the situation. "That shit doesn't happen every day. He's got us both going on more calls because the Patrons need to be pacified. Hell, he's now planning to send us all back into the Arena?!"

"Exactly! Don't you think it's enough?"

"What? Finnick—"

"Enough bloodshed, Y/N, please! Yeah, we're Careers, but when has that ever meant we were safe from the bullshit of the Capitol? Hm?"

"This isn't about us being Careers. It's about the fact that you could die!"

"We're going to anyway! It's like Johanna said! He's killing us slowly! We won't be able to live with ourselves once we're old and not wanted anymore!"

"FINNICK!"

"What?!"

"The first rebellion caused the Hunger Games. What the fuck do you think a second rebellion is going to bring? Hm? Mass genocide of the Districts? An arena with even younger kids? Every rebel and their families becoming Avoxes?! Are you fucking insane?!"

He paused at that. Silence. Good. At least he wasn't deluded enough not to consider the probability of failure.

You stared at him for a little while, before sighing. He wasn't weak, far from it, but you had just violently burst his bubble, the only thing he probably had going for him. And it must have been huge -and have been on his mind for a long time, a perfectly formulated plan that he was very excited about - seeing as he hadn't said anything to you.

He had a habit of doing that.

He never wanted to give you anything that wasn't just perfect.

He'd brought you back this seashell one time. From District Four. It had taken about five months for him to find the perfect one, with the best weight, the best colour, shape, texture, girth, whole shebang.

He stored your return-gift of a trident - you were masonry and weaponry district, after all - in a literal vault in District 4, until you gave him a tiny charm-version. He wore that around his neck.

Another time, he'd decided he'd write you his impression of your district from his Victory Tour. But that day, he'd been incredibly nervous, so he didn't look anywhere but his feet, and oh, how they longed to be home! In the sand, with waves kissing at his heels.

He figured he'd pretend he'd seen you in the crowd, all those years ago. In reality, you'd have only been about twelve, though you were raised above your parent's heads, so it was possible he could have seen you.

He hadn't, though.

For the case of this very humble birthday present, however, he pretended like he did. He took the wildest guess he could, that your hair was not tied up that day, and began to talk of your home.

How lovely everything had seemed.

How excited you looked.

You loved it. You really had. And he loved that you loved it.

And this whole rebellion thing was no different. He knew you'd be reluctant, but he also knew you'd secretly pray on the success of it, and he'd meticulously spent ages going through everything, every single thing, to make sure it was absolutely perfect for you, to make sure you could never call it anything but the best gift you'd ever gotten.

This, though? This argument had thrown him for a loop. You had a point. One he hadn't thought of.

"I'm—", you sighed once more, shaking your head. "Hey, I'm sorry, I... that was harsh."

He bit the inside of his bottom lip. "Mm."

"Finnick, I really am."

"Yeah, I know. I just... what if we don't fail, though?"

Wish(on the moon)ful thinking.

"Then great. But is that a chance you really want to take?"

"What if it is?" It's quiet in your room, and his response is almost engulfed in the silence, but you manage to catch it.

"Don't you think that's what the First Rebels thought?"

You were just dynamite today, weren't you? Finnick loved it when you were like this, but a tiny bit less when it was directed against him.

At least he knew he was an inch closer to receiving your amazing hugs.

"Yeah. Yeah, no, for sure."

You nodded softly, and then he kissed you.

And once more, corruption blossomed on your lips. "But you're deluded if you think when we're in that arena, I'm letting you kill Katniss."

"I won't have to if my theory is right."

"What theory?", he scoffed against your lips, pulling you closer as his hands crept up into your hair.

"That Snow will do things specifically to kill Katniss, and the only way anything will ever work is if you, I dunno, find a way to save Katniss and yourself and Peeta and Joha—"

"We're hacking into the arena."

He really hated kissing you when you didn't reciprocate, but he had to for the next few seconds when you froze, before pulling you away. "What?"

"We're... I can't tell you, but we've got District 3 in on it, they're going to get a wire and basically, like—"

"What, blow up the arena? Are you sure you're feeling okay? Are you still hungover?", you asked, placing your palm on his forehead.

He rolled his eyes, taking it in his and kissing it once. "I promise, I am perfectly fine. And yes, we have a solid plan—"

"Holy shit, this is what you meant by 'the Capitol Patrons give me information' ? I figured it was about the next Games, so you could help your tributes win, not... fuck, Finnick! This is treason!"

"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT!"

You glared at him as he stood in sheer fury. "I'm sorry for yelling."

Wow. Sweetest boy on earth and you'd made him miserable. How do you do it?

"It's alright."

"I don't care that it's treason, alright? But we need to end this bullshit. Okay? So I will ask you for the last ever time, Y/N, because you know that whatever you say next will affect whether we see each other again. Are you with us?"

You licked your lips, picking at the duvet. "Can I have some time?"

"Reaping Day."

"Reaping Day?"

"Reaping Day. I'm not even kidding."

Yeah, he almost never was.

Fuck.

"I'll tell you by Reaping Day."

"Okay."

He didn't leave. It was a long moment of either meeting or vehemently avoiding each others eyes.

"I'm sorry about the yelling.", he repeated.

"You're not volunteering."

"What?" He was halfway out the door when you said it, and he was this close to slamming it.

"If you're not reaped, you take it as the odds being in your favor and shut up. Alright?"

He turned to you, slamming the door and leaning on it with crossed arms. Incredulity painted his face. "Are you kidding me?"

"No."

"Who are you to order me around? Fucking Snow?"

"I'm—"

"Who?! My on-screen-propaganda-lover?!"

That stung more than you'd expected it to.

"Fine. Fuck you! Go ahead and volunteer. Like a fucking dumbass. Go get yourself killed because you can't handle the truth! This is how it is and how it'll always be!"

"It doesn't have to!"

"Yeah, tell that to District 13!"

"Oh, if only you fucking knew!"

"Knew what?! That your half-baked 'plan' is bound to fail?!"

"If you're such a fucking loyalist, go tell Snow the big 'half-baked' plan!"

"Maybe I will!"

"Yeah, go! Go right now, scurry off, become the fearless Savior of Panem, the title of the Most Loyal goes to you!"

You stood, attempting to shoulder past him, but honestly, you should've known better. He grabbed your arm. "If you're going, stay on your knees in front of him so we can shoot you in the back of your head when we storm the Capitol." Pretty picture he could paint, you'd give him that. He could paint a dazzling romance and a grisly murder all just with words.

"That's if you do it. You won't."

"Yeah? Watch us."

You mirrored his clenched jaw. "Let. Go."

"You don't like me holding you?", he asked, tilting his head in mock curiosity.

"No."

"In the Snow regime, in the Capitol, sweetheart, that word has no meaning.", he spat.

"Does treason? Does murder? Does anarchy?"

"Snow gave you a comprehensive list of his favourite vocabulary, how cute."

"Oh, fuck off, Finnick, alright? Let go."

"Are you with us?" He shook your arm.

"No!"

"Are you with us?" More desperation this time. But he knew you, and his eyes held a calm that suggested he knew exactly where your heart lay. With him. With the idea of a free Panem.

"I'm not!"

"ARE YOU WITH US?!", he snapped, finally yelling once more.

"YES!"

The silence had snuck back in unnannounced.

"This is why I love you. You're a fucking trip."

Great. You were not only having to play an innocent, his lover and now a rebel, but you were also, evidently, to play jester for him, since he thought you were so fucking amusing.

"Do the cameras love you as much as I do?"

Oh, my god, he was being funny now, was he?

"Don't die.", you scoffed.

"Not if you won't. Same page?"

You scrambled to come up with a plan. Rig District 4's reaping? Fucking how? Beg Heavensbee for a glimpse into the arena? You barely knew if he was actually on your side, no matter how much Finnick seemed to trust him. Tell Snow and not include Finnick or Johanna or Katniss or — okay, too many variables. Oh! Wait! When he was busy protecting Katniss in the arena, you'd be busy protecting him. Okay. Could work. Right, okay.

He kissed your temple, looking down at you expectantly. He had no idea what he'd do if you hated his gift. "Right.", he muttered, after a little while of watching you play with the hem of his shirt. "I gave you till Reaping Day."

You nodded, and he whistled lowly, looking out at the window, his eyes brightening. "But... you know it's Full Moon Day today.", he grinned.

So you two sat there watching the moon for... quite a while, actually.

Wishing that the other would just fucking listen for once.

Finnick Odair was a fucking menace.

But he was also the sweetest boy you knew.

So, if you had to be on the same page, you would be.

"Same page.", you affirmed, finally, when it got too late and his hands went slack around your shoulder, and your eyes started getting heavy. You were truly, in entire honesty, unable to fathom a future where the rebellion worked and Panem was free.

But your plan was at least still intact. No matter how this clearly poorly thought out rebellion went.

At least, with your plan, he'd be alright, either way.

At least he'd live.