#that is getting me thinking though like...

[lucabyte]

some thoughts on Claude

alt title: diversity win! this Butch Nun is crafting bombs in an unventilated room in her convent while actively courting Mother Superior! Do Not Give Them Access To Unlimited Power No Matter How Nice They Are

+ bonus

[just-watch-and-calculate]

ooh writing that is related to time loops but not conventional time loop narrative is interesting. the idea I have now is a bit of a different direction in terms of the underlying concept though

TW/CW: death (mentioned in the 2nd person, implied ending) (also a slight warning: the following is fiction written in the second person and is about being disoriented in spacetime, and about the existential dread from that; also I don't know how much other people get out of this without some rather specific physics knowledge)

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

The rest of your life is ahead of you.

You get ready to end the day by waking up into the comforting embrace of sleep. This is the end of the day, right? Mind already— or still?— groggy, you are not sure. Faint recollections of today make themselves known in your mind. Recollections of one of the two ends of your life. Just whether it is the celebrated or grieved one you are not sure right now. At least you are headed away from it, right?

Thinking about that, you realize that you might be moving away from the moment you will(?) end he day by waking up. You are awake enough to notice that the phrasing of that sounds… off, somehow. The sun is still a bit away from setting— or is it rising right now? By definition the night ends with the sun rising and starts with it setting, so that is no help in figuring out which way is future and which way is past.

You remember somewhat how today went goes. And you remember a bit less clearly how tomorrow yesterday the closest day one night from now goes. That is a sign that the future is that way, right? That we know little enough about that temporal direction to think we have free will there.

But you know better than to think you truly have free will, don't you? You know that when you learn about it you are shocked. And you know that at some other point in time you are not shocked about it, at that point in time you accept that the universe is deterministic.¹

But will that be in the future, or has that been in the past? You hope that that is your future, because you remember enough to know that one direction is much longer than the other. Something goes went will go goes wrong today.

You realize that you should not have such clear memories of both past and future. Maybe that is why today has been— will be?— so confusing. You do know that it does make sense for it to be possible though: the direction of time is surprisingly ambiguous unless entropy is involved, so those memories do little to help.

Entropy! You remember: you can find out what direction is generally regarded as the future quite easily. You grab an ice cube. As you hold it you remember that you have(?) let it go right as your hand hurts slightly from the cold. It slides across the floor towards/away from you. Your hand is wet and cold from it. You know enough about entropy to know that the cube melted from holding it.

Which means that today is still mostly ahead of you. And then… nothing. Not the faintest recollection.

You feel cold panic. You are clinging on to the irrational, desperate hope that somehow you can change this. But you know that you can't. Shattered, disjointed recollections of today are burnt into you memory so much deeper than anything else.

Has some attempt to go back just reinforced fate instead? But that isn't how causality works. It shouldn't be. You hope you are not doomed already. You know you are.

Maybe— maybe your colleagues can help you. They've been working on this kind of thing for some distance time (but it's a lot less in time than what that length would be in space, isn't it?). Your research group is working with small controlled systems to better understand what time is. Most that you remember coming of that research so far only has potential for some parlor tricks, but that can change, even on such a short notice, right? (Hah! 'Short' notice, as if we all already know that time and space are not that different.)

There it is again, that irrational thought that somehow the universe doesn't work as you know it does. That things you know cannot be changed, things you know you cannot change, could be changed.

You stand at the bus stop. Why would you have to wait there if you know the bus has arrived early at its destination will be late at the bus stop?

You are on the bus. You just look out of the window disinterestedly, watching the world go by, letting distance pass like time. Is the bus driving forwards or backwards? Are you headed towards your end or away from it? In any case, part of what has you so disinterested in the bus ride is that you know it is uneventful. You have already ridden here from one of the stops you got on/off the bus at and remember that part of the drive. You also remember the other part from/to the other stop you will get on/off the bus at.

You arrive at the laboratory. "Good morning!" you respond. "Morning!" is the answer you receive from the only other person currently at the lab. You can't shake the feeling you should've responded with 'bye'.

You look at the current setup: two almost identical experiments that can run simultaneously — except one of them has opposite charges and is mirrored. And most important of all, one of them starts as the other ends — one of them is backwards. And you truly do not know which one that is anymore. (Anymore? Or will you just come to learn it later?)

It looks different from the other times you see it. "Hey, could you check my calculations? Something's not adding up, I've found a configuration where I don't know where some of the energy comes from" your colleague asks. "It's just, trying to figure it out has kept me up all night. I'd really appreciate a second pair of eyes on this."

You consider what she says: 'all night', not 'all day'. That clears up how she perceives time. It does not fix how you do though.

You remember what is written on the piece of paper she hands you as you first read it. And she is right, it should all add up, it just somehow doesn't. It is as if the Formulas just 'know' that something will be there to fix things. And if not, who knows what would happen. You would rather not know. With a sigh you say "Whatever is wrong with that calculation, I can't spot it either."

"It's alright, I already modified our setup to test this. Want to give it a try?" she responds. Not waiting for your answer in her eagerness to learn she fiddles with the controls of the experiment.

You run between her and the experimental setup. You suddenly know where the extra energy is: with you, somehow. The setup is currently powering up/down. You have to do something or you really will risk finding out how the universe deals with mathematical inconsistencies.

She calls your name, voice full of worry. You are in the experiment room. The setup is powered. You know what fate lurks here. You want to leave this room so badly.

It is too late. Your path through spacetime is not exactly subject to causality — it kind of is causality. Your path through spacetime is not something you have carved out. It just is. And here it leads you. And one of its ends is here.

You want just one more day.

The last, or perhaps the first thing you know is just how wrong you still were about how time works.

_____ ¹ I'm too much of a nerd to completely gloss over quantum randomness possibly not being deterministic, but for the purposes of this story it can be ignored.

I love time loop stories. Really, I do.

But I'd love to see a story about what happens after you emerge from the time loop.

When, after months or years of repetition, you have to learn how to live with a choice you can't redo tomorrow.

When you meet someone new for the first time and have to figure out how to navigate this brand new conversation.

When you reach for the same day's clothes and realize that you can't wear them because they got dirty. Your laundry, your dishes, your body, your teeth, all the tasks that reset with the loop are suddenly stacking up and you need to set aside time to do them.

When you reach that first weekend and your schedule radically shifts and you don't know what to do with yourself, which is terrifying but also exhilarating in ways you can't explain.

When you casually drop facts learned from those books you spent a dozen loops reading, and you realize you retained something worth keeping.

How your memory gets weirdly good all of a sudden, despite not having all that repetition to fall back on, because suddenly every experience is fresh and new.

And when the seasons change, and your hair grows long enough that you want to cut it, and when you realize it's shocking because you didn't think you'd ever see something as incredible as the passage of time.

[screampied]

DI☆MOND BOY. g. satoru

☆ sum. if there’s anything more scarier than a special grade curse to gojo, it’s coming home to his pretty ‘lil wife who’s got a sizzling hot temperature of baby fever.

wc. 8k

warnings. fem! reader, housewife! reader, fluffy smut, unprotected, mention of kids (2), baby fever, brief láctation kink, bóob obsessed gojo, cėrvix mentions, body worship, cunnīlingus, this is where you’re weak right, r has stretch marks, dad! bod gojo, breęding, sqúirting, spitting on it, fingęring, filthy pússy talk, implied multiple rounds, petnames.

an. this is kinda rawdogged, im ugly sobbing to sza, and i think … im a gojo girl now (・・?)

“sweetheaaart?” satoru steps through the doorway, doing a quick scan around the semi-tidy living room that he’s greeted with. turning to lock the door, the heel of his shoe nearly steps onto the edge of a squeaky teething toy. he picks it up, putting it in the basket of other toys with a contempt smile—remembering the kids were staying at your grandparents ‘till the weekend.

still - silence.

satoru scratched his head once you didn’t reply like usual whenever he announced himself. pulling off his coat, his husband instincts kicked in instantaneously. what if - what if, the same questions repeated through his head as he made his way upstairs. his heart’s racing, and as he’s speeding through the narrow hallway, he just hopes his wife’s alright.

but as he twists the croaking handle of the bedroom door, he’s met with you lying on his side of the bed. with a towel underneath you, you’ve got a cute scrunched-up look of frustration as you rub a vibrating wand up and down between your legs. you’re sprawled open—and as you’re whimpering repeatedly, it takes you a long second to realize satoru’s just stiffly standing in the doorway with the dumbest lopsided grin.

“s- satoru!”

“hey, girl,” his eyes avert toward your pretty thighs that trembled, occasionally leering back toward the drenched white towel that sat underneath you. stepping closer, he tossed the bag of toiletries you asked for, hearing it flop near the nightstand. “hey to you too, pretty.” and you pouted, watching as he slowly took the active buzzing toy from your hands.

leaning in, he greets your ankle with a delicate kiss. “ ‘m home, ‘toru’s home.”

his touch, it was forever gentle.

satoru’s lips softly planted against your skin, tilting his head to get a closer look at you - the epitome of looking like a guilty deer in headlights.

cute.

“how was um.. work?” you murmur, trying to ignore the quickening beats of your active heart.

thump after thump after thump and it’s just so loud that you were even starting to hear each pound sound out of your chest and through your ears.

satoru sits up, sliding a part of the blindfold to lift over his left eye.

right away - he’s staring at you with icy-blue eyes that resemble calming waves of crashing tides. long lashes of his flapped prettily as it took in your exposed figure with a single glance.

“was alrigh’,” he hoarsely mumbles before staring at the toy that was propped between your legs just a minute ago—gripping it in his palm. “are we gonna talk about this though?”

“i thought you’d be home later,” you shyly replied, feeling satoru gingerly rest his chin against your bare tummy. your voice sounded so smooth, especially whenever you were a tad bit nervous. he could listen to you all day. “and i never have time to um..”

“play with yourself?” satoru raised a snowy brow, kissing the centre of your stomach.

“mhm.”

“sweetheart, you have me y’know,” he flips a thumb over one of the pink buttons that were on the button, switching it off. the buzzing noise gradually dies down with a ‘powering off’ sound before he sets it aside.

god - you felt so fuckin’ hot.

as he laid close between your legs, showering your skin with ‘i missed you’ kisses — you let off a soft, contempt sigh.

“yeah, but- like, when you aren’t here. i would call you but i don’t wanna do that while you’re working, ‘toru,” and satoru places the edge of his wrist on the side of his cheek, intently listening to you.

his eyes softened - pupils dilating with love, nearly forming into hearts as you spoke. as your sentences continued—you could see tiny dimples forming at each corner of his crooked pink lips. he’s trying so hard not to smile. “. . what?”

satoru sits up before pressing a three-second kiss against your lips. “sweetheart, you can call me while ‘m at work, you know. i don’t mind if it’s you,” and he surprises the left side of your temple with another peck. “even if it’s a text. you’re the only thing that keeps me sane when i’m out trying to save the world.”

“okay,” you replied, cupping his face.

satoru stares deeply into your eyes, and you can already visibly see that smug grin preparing to tug across his pink-glittery lips.

there was something else though.

with the kids away ‘till sunday, you found yourself pondering a bit.

you’d be watching some random show on tv them out of nowhere — you’re hit with a commercial for diapers.

it’s like the universe was trying you.

it’d happen at least more than once a day, and you’re just thinking . . . what if.

satoru and you joked about having another baby sometimes but now - it had you thinking.

just imagining the pure imagery of you walking around with a plump, swollen tummy, again—having satoru carry you almost anywhere, hearing him lovingly brag about his oh-so-perfect wife that’s expecting in the background of a phone call.

ah.

you had baby fever,

again.

that much was apparent, and satoru noticed how you were spacing out mid-conversation.

“heeey, what’s goin’ on in that pretty mind?” he pouts, his face still cupped with both of your palms. “earth to mama gojo.”

“satoru,” you’d sigh, a breathy gasp trying to tear its way through your lungs. you felt like you were burning up—and the more he pressed sweet kisses against your tummy, the more you started to feel your temperature rising. “i.. i feel hot.”

his eyes widen, placing a hand on the back of your forehead. “is everything okay?” and as he starts to get into his ‘protective husband mode’,

satoru sits up, white brows twitching in concern. “stay here, baby. let me get a thermo-”

“no, no- not hot in that way, ‘toru,” you shake your head, grabbing his wrist.

satoru’s a bit dumbfounded and it takes his empty brain a bit to fully register what you meant. leisurely, your thumb circles around his hardened knuckles before you give him that look.

he knew that look all too well.

“oh! oh, you’re …. horny. okay!” he dryly laughs, his look of worry slowly faltering.

satoru grabs your wrists, giving each of them soft open-mouthed kisses before speaking warmly. “i should’ve . . . figured, hehh-” and his eyes flicker down between your legs that were shamelessly dripping from each thigh with dewy drops of slippery slick. “was the new toy treating you well?”

“no. you sort of interrupted me and i didn’t finish.” you huffed, and satoru cheekily grinned.

“well pardon me for thinking somethin’ happened to my beloved missus,” satoru sneaks another kiss against your lips.

he tastes sweet - his lips, were always naturally glossed and his lashes lowered once you let off a cute, impatient sigh.

“but, my poor poor girl,” you moaned as he continued to hoarsely tease you, feeling him sneak a big hand between your already cracked-open thighs.

“girls,” he corrects himself, bringing the pad of his thumb near the opening of your drenched clit. you’re whimpering, hearing a single wet slosh sob from between your legs once satoru gives your entrance a single sparing second of his attention. “she’s as wet as ever, huh.”

“s.. s- ‘toruuu-” you’d gasp, watching as his head trails down low low low until it reaches just below your abdomen.

satoru’s hair gently grazed against your skin, and you were desperately holding in a deep exhale that you didn’t even know you were clinging onto for the longest.

“let’s see how much she’s missed me..” satoru gravelly coos, giving your nub a gentle kiss. it’s a wet ‘mwah’ that sticks against his lips like paste.

your legs were already struggling to hold still, and satoru couldn’t help but hum. as he swirls the flat of his palm around your twitching pussy in sloppy circles, you could already see him hungrily licking his lips through your blurred peripherals.

lying fully back, your back hits against the cushioned pillow that flatly plumps itself out against your weight.

your breaths started to sound more and more labored the closer he pursed his puckered his lips..

wetly, satoru brings a lanky middle finger towards your entrance before gradually sinking it inside. you’re moaning, feeling the lengthy tip of his tongue before he treats the top of your clit with a few beginning kitten licks.

“f- fuuuck,” your brows curled together, feeling him cup his mouth around your pussy. it’s a damp, wet pop! that resounds from between your legs, and it’s all because of his finger that easily disappears between your folds. “more, ‘toru- pleaseplease.”

“ ‘m gettin’ there,” he purrs huskily, grunting once he swirls his middle finger around inside of you. it’s so looong, stretching all through you as he feels you tighten around his digit for a few split seconds.

“atta girl, bare ‘round it for me jus’ like that baby … fuck.” as you’re slowly wetting his middle finger with your slickness, that’s when you feel him preparing to stick another in.

it’s so slippery yet again - loudly, it pops its way inside, echoing out a pretty noise before he eases his index finger inside. satoru’s fingers were just so damn long that it didn’t take him long to locate your g-spot at all.

with a ‘c’mere’ motion of his fingers pulling back and forth inside of you, he’s flicking both fingers you’re already spasming out. he’s reaching you good, and he’s drinking every melodic moan that left from your lips.

“f- fuck, riiiight there,” you’d continue, your hips squirming a bit. parched breaths from satoru fanned against your pussy, and he’s groaning right with you.

you’re just so wet - drowning in puddles of your lustful filth, and like the doting husband he was, he just had to clean you up. proudly, he does so with nothing more than a few flicks of his tongue.

“s.. satoruuu.” you’d whimper, biting the inside of your cheek once the pad of his index finger’s starting to ruuub its way against your g-spot.

your scent - satoru went feral for it every time, and he’s starting to lap his tongue against your clit at a much more erratic speed.

he’s forming slow yet steady stripes in an up ‘n down motion, occasionally smearing a thumb across your cunt to hear you whine. satoru’s low groans were muffled—sounding husky and all, and he’s just merrily slurping you while you writhe uncontrollably against his face. he even had the goofiest grin on his face the entire time too.

he had to admit, being between his wife’s legs or even being in your presence alone was far better than fighting some ugly special grade curse.

your grabby hands found their way to your full, jouncing breasts and you gave them a nice squeeze before whining again. even that made you sensitive.

between the wet thrusts of his long tongue—satoru’s giving your heat sloppy, sloppy kisses, even making sure to give your pussy a few pecks also. he left no area unattended.

satoru’s eyes shined bright, even brighter whenever when he was between your thighs.

in a way, the colors of his blue eyes had parallels to the shade of sapphire or any jewel, really.

as his eyes occasionally met against your own— you’re always staring at a vibrant, luminescent shade of cerulean that was forevermore fixated on you and only you.

his wife.

“mhh, hearin’ her cry for me is just the recharge i need from work, sweetheart,” he groans, cautiously pushing his twinned digits in of your cunt before pulling them riiiight back out.

not all the way, but just to where the glossy tips of his fingers showed. you’re clamping down on them both well—and he made sure that you felt every inch. you were indeed loud though, especially between your legs.

as satoru’s counting each vulgar squelch in his head, tittering to himself at how you just couldn’t help but pop out slosh after soddened slosh..

he’s paying attention to certain spots inside of you, and he’s stickily hitting all tender spots inside of your pussy - treating each one like a target.

bullseye after bullseye - he hits you in all the right places, and if it was one thing satoru’s long fingertips didn’t do, it was that they never miss.

ever.

your back’s just arching like a stretching feline, and your unsteady irregular breaths were far more than labored by this point. satoru’s tongue glides its way across your pussy before he takes a moment to spit right against your sopping entrance. you’re moaning, peering down at him, and he’s so focused on the mess taking place between your cute, shuddering thighs..

“haah-” he breathes, pulling out his fingers briefly to suck on them for a taste. “missed her so bad. she’s missed me too - fuck, can’t . . help but clench all ‘round me,” he whispers, prying your legs even more apart.

satoru’s taking his precious sweet time, savoring each honeyed drop that dribbled down your thighs before he feels your hand gripping his hair. as his head abruptly yanks forward, satoru looks up at you while sliding a tongue over his lower, slick-covered lip. “hm?”

“ ‘toru, m- my stretch marks,” you hesitate, your thumb gently digging a path through his scalp.

pausing, his dripping lips rested near the crevice of your thighs before he kissed the inner corner. “yeah. what about ‘em?”

truth be told, you were never so fond of them.

you knew your body would change after pregnancy, even more after the second time but still -

it had you feeling a bit iffy sometimes, pouting whenever you looked in the mirror and peeking down to glance at the stained marks reminding you of your visibly changing body.

“its just.. so-”

“beautiful, perfect, gorgeoussss..” he lowly whispers, kissing your thighs after each compliment that sang from his twitching lips.

satoru always knew the perfect time to cut off your sentence that he just knew was gonna be something negative.

with him—he’s listened to you express about your stretch marks, or anything new appearing on your body, and every single time, he’d remind you of just how flawless you were - to him.

you moaned, looking down to see his crimson-pink lips halting from your aroused entrance, pressing dozens of wet kisses down each striping mark that stretched against the inner parts of your thighs.

his lips were so zealously soft, and each impact of the kiss had your heart fluttering in the same way a butterfly flapped its wings. satoru’s fluffed ivory tresses were still gripped tightly in your hand, and he could feel your hold lessening by the second.

“even if you may not like your body, i love it,” he murmurs lowly, closing his eyelids. “and i love you.”

your skin was burning up, probably hotter than before and your heart felt like it was about to burst out the middle of your rising chest. each beat was more powerful than the last, and you started to feel a tingle in your toes.

“but baby-” he continues, bringing the back of your hand toward his lips before giving it a chaste kiss.

“i hope you know that you’ve gifted me two children with this beautiful body,” satoru sighs, guiding his lips down the bottom of your tummy to shower a kiss there too. “i’ll remind you every day of why i love you ‘n your beauty marks if that’s what you want. besides! i’m growing some too heh-”

“ ‘toru-”

“starting now,” he coos hotly, trailing his kisses back down between the valley of your legs. “such a perfect body, can’t believe i get ‘ta call you mine,” and with one concluding kiss against your marks, he brings an eager closing kiss against your drooling cunt. “can’t forget ‘bout her too, my other pretty wet girl.”

whining, you felt an impatient heat pooling its way around inside of you. your legs started to quaver again, and you were feeling your jaw tighten before slacking. “sa- satoru, ‘m gonna .. cum,” you rawly mewl out, your grip on his hair tightening again like before.

pursing his thin lips into a straight line, he brings them back toward your pussy, sluuurping everything out of you whilst you’re nearly dragging his head back and forth against your dripping heat.

satoru’s stubble tickles against your folds and it cutely makes your legs twitch. with your ankles having a mind of its own, they wrap around satoru’s neck — keeping him in a lock.

“mmgh-” his white lashes remained shut as he cupped his lips with such intensity.

satoru’s chin was getting drenched with your mess, and he couldn’t care less. his head moves and moves, swaying frantically between your legs while forgetting to take a single breath.

you tasted like candy - equivalent like honey, and the tip of his tongue was adamant on slurping up any ‘n every single drop of nectar that dribbled from between your puffed slit. satoru’s always had a sweet tooth, and your cunt was the only treat he’d happily feast on all day long if he could.

“c’mon, pretty,” he huffs breathlessly, the button tip of his nose swiping its way down your clit. you’re so so close, and your orgasm’s just sitting on your maddened tastebuds.

as his head continues to ferociously bob between your shaky legs, you’re whining with those same sweet babbles and babbles of his name, begging for him to not stop. his tongue’s just covered with his sugary-tasting saliva—sticky webs gluing against the bottom part of his chin as he’s now buried nose deep.

“toru, satoruuu,” and its more of a pitiful battle cry.

the edges of his teeth softly nip against your cunt before his tongue lazily circles around your throbbing frenulum. an incoming prolonged moan gets caught in your throat as you feel his head tilting for a better angle. “cum- ‘m cumming, fuuuck!”

as your release was coming to its teetering demise, you were shrieking at the top of your lungs in overwhelmed pleasure.

satoru’s giving your labia its final sweet ‘lil wet sucks before feeling your legs weakly releasing its temporary lock around his head.

heavily, he’s panting sharply against your pussy before bringing a thumb toward the top part of your puffy nub.

satoru’s sloppily spreading it apart with a single finger, staring at the cute excited pulse that occurs from the very inside of your pussy.. “haah- good girl.” he praises, feeling you arch further once his drenched stubble scrapes against your crying entrance.

you’re wetter than ever - and satoru’s lips shined even brighter thanks to your treacly juices. passively, his reddened tongue chafed ‘n twirled ‘round inside of you, and as you’re still riding out your eye-boggling finish on his face, you grab him by the hair. “s- satoru, just.. hah- came.”

“mhm~” he clumsily falls face-first against your cunt, giving your teary folds a wet kiss.

smugly, he looks up at you with a slick chin before whistling against your clit. “phewww. did ya?” he grumbles, creeping a plump thumb near your puckering hole.

you clench at that, and he ogled as your tummy sinks inward. “fuck, s.. sooo damn pretty,” and as he gives your pussy a few departing french kisses, he sighs. “mmch-” he smacks his lips, and you stared as he swiftly removed his blindfold with one hand.

as you’re panting yourself, your legs remained spread.

still lying on his stomach, satoru brought his black blindfold up to his sneering lips before wiping it side-to-side, using it as a handkerchief.

“hah- wifey tastes as good as always,” he snickers, closing the gap between you two with his own body. as satoru’s towering figure falls against you, he brings a longing, silky peck to you before groaning against your trembling, kiss-swollen lips.

satoru awkwardly moves against you before mumbling out a few ‘f… fuck’ ‘s once he feels a certain something poke from the middle of his boxers.

he’s … hard.

you felt the bulge stick out of the cloth, pressing against your bare cunt — its hard to miss, and your hands instinctively reached for the knotted string of his pants.

“baby-” he bites his lip, feeling the tent prod wider. its almost painful, and he’s even starting to grind against your leg to ease the throbbing. “mmgh-” he goofily grins, his expression shortly switching to a look of lustful panic.

he’s been so focused on you that he didn’t even realize all this time—he’s had a raging boner that’s been aching for any sort of crumbs of attention.

“baby, were you working while being this hard?” you timidly murmur, watching as satoru’s face flushes with a burning tint of strawberry red.

“h.. heh. no silly,” lie.

satoru had a bit of a bad habit of randomly thinking about you - his adorable, sweet ‘n perfect wife while he was out fighting enemies.

sometimes, the longer he thought about you - the longer his problem got.

satoru brings a hand toward your right breast, and you gasped once he gives it a loud ‘popping’ suck. frosty-white strands of his hair drag against your skin as he’s slooowly running his balmy, hot tongue around your sensitive nipple.

you were still tender - not just anywhere but everywhere.

it’s fully marked a year since you had your second child, meaning that of course, your body would still be a bit sensitive in some places. places like your soft, rounded breasts—especially.

you moaned, feeling the tip of his drooling, wet tongue criss-cross its way around your perked areola. every suck suck suck pops out from his lips louder, and you start to play with his hair.

“s.. satoru,” you whined, a pout starting to display against your lips as he tended to each breast lovingly.

“i know.. i hah- know,” he breathes through rushed exhales, turning you on your side. “jus' wanted to make sure my favorite girls got some attention too.”

you felt the cool air whoosh against your skin at each second he released each nipple from his lips. it's brief - but quick, and satoru’s already got you pulsating. he’s flicking his tongue while fluttering his lashes at you, allowing clear driblets of saliva to drizzle from the cracks of his mouth.

you’re biting your lip the entire time as you held the back of his head close—hearing a bit of shuffling before satoru’s eyes trail down your fidgeting body.

so cute.

there’s a shiny sparkle in his eyes, it’s glimmer never faltering and he’s just falling in love all over again.

every moment he spent staring at you or your body, he felt that same lump forming in the back of his throat.

“ ‘s this comfy?” he wantonly purrs, caressing the bare flesh of your ass. you cling onto the pillow beside you before giving him a nod.

the slight shuffling you heard was from satoru. his sweats fell to the carpet floor with a loud thud, and his boxers shortly followed afterward.

finally - he could breathe.

his boner was just crying weakly, the tip feeling so hot as it had pearly-white globules of pre-cum wetly darting from all veiny sides.

sighing, satoru wraps a palm around his hardened cock before clicking his tongue while continuing to tease you. “ah- words, sweetheart. y’know how ‘ta use ‘em.”

“y- yes.” and with how whiny your words came out, you mentally slapped yourself.

satoru’s skin was just so close to yours - radiating hot waves of heat against your thighs. within seconds, he’s already enveloping you gradually with his embracing warmth.

pouting and all, you were steadily impatient, and he heard your cute ‘lil sighs of agitation repeating ‘till he lifted your leg.

sideways.

he was gonna take you sideways, and the single thought alone brewed up a flittering feeling of butterflies in your empty tummy.

“haah- missed you all day, have no idea.” satoru inhales through each nostril, bringing his cherry-capped tip towards your weeping entrance.

so … damn … soaked..

as he gawked, he could still taste the sugary-sweet remnants of your essence in his mouth, coating his lips like a natural gloss.

as you’re on your left side, your tits end up smushing against each other. it’s such a pretty sight too, ‘cause not even seconds later, you heard a raspy ‘ohhh fuck’ draw from satoru’s lips.

your pussy was just profusely leaking, and satoru’s holding back all hearty grunts the minute his swollen tip smacked its way against your lustrous-coated slit.

as it sops with nothing but runny molasses of your own colorless slick, your chest sucks in. “ ‘toruuuu, baby- fuckk. don’t tease me,” you’d whimper, quietly huffing at each commencing pap sound of his tip gently hitting against your folds.

he hums, hearing his wet you were - how sloppy you sounded.

satoru’s tip’s an angry red, fuming with a carmine flushing shade and he’s groaning once his vast thumb sinfully brushes past a prominent throbbing vein.

pulse after pulse after fuckin’ pulse, and you’re just making him harder.

“s… shit, you’re right. if i tease you, ‘m just gonna end up makin’ myself finish early, princess.” satoru diffidently chortles, and you hear the pathetic squelch of your pussy begging for him to just shut up and ease his way inside already..

finally - satoru’s making his way inside, ploddingly sinking a few inches inside.

with a few wet ‘fwop’ sloshes, he’s disappearing into you. like always, you’re hugging him tight - dependent on never letting him go.

your pussy’s warmth makes satoru’s glitzed lashes flap shut for a moment, and he’s kissing his teeth. your wetness was taking him to a whole new world almost. it’s almost entirely satisfying at how you’re just swallowing all hefty nth-inches like it was nothing.

as satoru’s trying to carefully fit his way in, he runs a hand down his tummy that’s growing a bit of a pudge. he was starting to develop a dad bod himself.

satoru was still very much fit, but as the years went on—he was eventually starting to get plump, more . . soft.

overtime, he liked being the little spoon in bed. he was really soft - identical to a teddy bear with strong arms wrapping around you. his favorite position to sleep would usually be with his head resting between your chest or on your stomach.

he’s got a trail of white hairs that sprinkled all across his chest like paint splattered on a canvas. a few hairs even made their way toward his chiseled v-line, dashing just below his pelvis. all over his body, he still had multiple scars—scars from countless battles, and he himself always found them unpleasant to look at.

but just like he did for you - you made sure to kiss all of his scars that decorated his skin.

you still felt his sharpened natural abs - they were just a bit softer though.

satoru grunts, stuffing a hand underneath the crack of your bent leg before he’s juuuust about bottomed out.

his rotund base was as full as it’s ever been, and he heard your cute gargled whines trying so hard to conceal themselves.

“hng- pretty mama, don’t . . do that,” he takes stingy puffs of air, gripping firmly against your skin. satoru’s brows come into a furrow, and with the final gushing ‘plap’ alerting you both that he’s stuffed balls deep, satoru phews. “i wanna hear ya, let me- hah- hear that pretty voice f’ me.”

“f- fuuuck.” you moan out, your entire steady body becoming unstable, wriggling like jello with just a single rigid thrust.

satoru’s tip is always nice and wide, and it curves its way around your insides before expanding further and further.

with your leg bent at a near-perfect ninety-degree angle, he’s got you right where he wants you.

his dick’s sliiiiding in and out, and fuck- you felt it all.

satoru’s leaning, still holding up your leg before grunting. your cunt’s oily wetness nearly drove him mad, and you’re just coating him with your slick through and through..

the achy muscles in his lower thigh muscles quickly clench, and satoru’s already starting to feel himself break a sweat.

fuck.

“ngh- ‘toru,” you’d whimper out rawly, the chords in your throat struggling to maintain their natural pitch. he’s just hitting you so deep, swabbing the tip of his cock around your pussy like a q-tip.

it was just so sloppy at how it swirled its way in a circle, leaving you nothing but goosebumps from the inside everytime. he’s deep, stuffing you full with all capped inches of his stretching cock.

as he’s sideways right with you—satoru’s skewing his hips a certain way just so you could feel each delicious pound.

if he kept jackhammering into you like that, you were sure you were gonna start drooling against your fleecy pillowcase within no time.

satoru’s sweaty fingerprints were practically glued in between the crevices of your held-up thigh, and he was letting off sharp raspy breaths after each stroke.

he’s full, groaning as his base thwacks its way back ‘n forth into your dripping pussy. the lewd sounds rang through the four thin walls of the bedroom, and you’re just faintly nibbling on your numbed tongue. “s- so full, mngh- right there baby. keep.. hah- fuckin’ me there.”

“god-” satoru leans in, his chest flatly pressed against yours. he helps you sit upright, and you can now crane your head slightly just to see him through your bleary peripherals again. “right here, princess? right .. fuckin’ .. here?”

he’s sloppily punctuating each thrust with his words that coarsely flew past his lips.

satoru’s shaft had the right kind of lean that made you gasp. the lazy, hanging curve of his cock dragged its way through your cunt and had you whining loudly, filling his ear with constant cacophonies of your cute ‘lil ‘pleaseplease’ ‘s, ‘yesyes’ ‘s, and his personal favorite, ‘satoruuuu.’

with your head vaguely turned, he leans in to kiss you.

it’s barely a kiss - more like a bumpy battle of teeth clashing, because with his delirious thrusts, you could hardly reach against his lips.

between kisses, you heard the mixture of wet moans and hearty ‘i love you’ ‘s fall past both shared lips.

satoru’s sly smile stretches across the corners of his mouth as he’s still pounding you into straight oblivion, making sure every single orifice of yours remembers any incoming inch of his.

“hngh- feels.. so hah- good, baby,” you’d babble, taking a few hastened milliseconds in between to breathe.

it felt like you were racing with your breath, forevermore losing.

satoru’s just ruthless - stretching you wholeheartedly as the bed underneath you both grunted in horror. its creaking competed with the headboard from above which was probably older than time itself.

with this particular angle, he’s hitting you even deeper, and you feel the buds on your tongue preparing to sodden with pools of rich, cloying saliva.

“sato- ah!” you squealed, growing cross-eyed for a second.

right there,

as satoru’s hand still clings onto the opening of your drooping thigh, his tip kisses a direct path near your cervix before that kiss turns into a thrusting smooch.

your mind’s just blank - fog surrounds it, and your voice starts to pitch higher. he’s hitting you there, and satoru hissed at the familiar spongy texture that was trying hard to clamp around him oh-so tight.

the feeling of melting-hot pressure from the very inside of your sopping core makes you let off a cute, ‘oooh’ as he shimmies his hips.

“toru don’t s- stop hittin’ there, please.”

“mng- there she is. found it, didn’t i?” his guttural voice murmurs.

panting harshly—satoru snakes a free arm around your waist, and he gently presses his palm against your belly.

sliding up up up, he adds just a wee bit more pressure to near the exact area he’s reaching inside of you.

his cock’s stupidly long, and it’s continuously locating all the right spots before your mind tirelessly shot blanks. as his dampened fingertips warily graze circles around your heaving tummy, he brings his glimmering lips up to the searing lobe of your ear.

“here, princess?” satoru huffs darkly, his breathing almost animalistic as he lifts your leg even higher.

as you’re sideways, you felt multiple inches of his cock steadily continue to bruise your cervix with a plethora of heart-felt, mean tip-kisses.

your eyes were bulging, lashes batting, mouth dangling wide open. “this is- hah- where you’re weak riiiight? this.. fuckin’ .. spot where ‘m hitting, oh fuckk-” he pauses, his nose wrinkling from the immense sliding stimulation.

“y- yes, there- fuck! ‘toruuu-”

it’s just soooo slick inside you, and satoru’s groaning all up against your ear.

“dirty girl. mngh- pussy can’t.. help but talk back. god, jus’ listen to her, she’s even singing for me ‘n everything. wettest lyrics of a song i’ve ever.. hah- heard,” and as if on cue, the sloshing sounds slosh even louder after each overzealous jam of satoru’s pivoting hips.

you’re stammering on your own words, choking on every shrilling whine and whimper that dared to tug away from your worn-out voice.

satoru’s dick knew each pressure point to hit too.

every. single. one.

after all, if it was anyone who knew your body - it was him.

that included bedaubing his crowned tip near erogenous places. satoru’s easing his way in and out, making not only your heart flutter but your insides too..

it’s one wet whack of skin against each other after another, and all you could do was clamp around his cock and take it like the good girl you were.

with your tummy heaving consistently, it’s doing nothing but sending a horde of nerves all through the axons and nerves that run through your body.

it’s sending staticky signals that are more than enough to make your brain lose a few circuits.

satoru’s berserk-like thrusts were at damn near lightning speed, and he was snickering at each whine that flew past your trembly-glossed lips.

“ ‘toruuuu,” you’d drag out his name, moaning once you felt a few of his thin fingers wisp down your back that’s starting to perspire with tears of sweat.

he’s stretchy, molding the inside of your cunt with each pump of his stiffening cock that’s drilling into your very core.

panting like a greyhound, you’re stunned for a second once satoru lets off a rough groan against the shell of your ear.

his mushroomy tip faultlessly smashed its way against and into your flittering cervix that felt almost heart-shaped—zigzagging its way down before smashing against that pulsating spot again.

he feels it and you feel it too.

“ngh- ‘m gonna cum again,” you’d mewl out, feeling the sliminess of both sweaty bodies slick against each other in raw harmony.

his ramming hips naturally arched into yours, deepening the steep angle even more before hearing you squawk out a tiny warning sob. “cum- ‘m gonna cum, sato—mmngh!”

as satoru’s still holding you from your side, you’re hit with a multitude of elated emotions. you’re clamping down on him tightly, feeling your legs grow limp within seconds.

sloppily, your pussy squeaking wetly between your open thighs as you cream all down his shaft, creating nothing more than a miry, slippery mess..

your cheek presses against the middle part of your pillow as you’re spasming underneath him, whining out the same ragged, incoherent babbles.

“satoru, s- satoru,” you’d coo out, hearing his huffing puffs of air from behind you.

satoru slows himself down, wrapping soft arms around your torso as you ride out your orgasm.

with your hips still feebly stuttering back against him—it left the sweetest taste in your mouth.

all over, you felt overly sensitive - and satoru could feel your body succumbing in pleasure and defeat within his firm hold.

he held you close, brushing a thumb around your navel before whispering murmurs of, ‘there we go’ ‘s or, ‘i gotcha,’ ‘s.

“fuck, such a good sloppy girl,” he flips you over, still entirely buried inside of your clenching cunt. satoru brings his quivering lips toward yours, giving you kisses before speaking in between rushed, humid smacks. “hah- you okay, princess?”

“mhm.” you nod, crawling your way on top of him. satoru has a sheepish grin, and he does a quick peer down at your body.

damn.

the first thought that would always pop into his mind whenever his eyes landed on you—his wife’s perfect body.

they’d trail down down down, stopping at your plush thighs before darting right back up towards your face. his thumbs gently caressed near the familiar marks that creased faintly against your thighs before he sneaks a kiss near your relaxing jaw.

“heh- think the missus is gettin’ a bit cocky today, no?” satoru jibes a toothy smile once he watches you straddle him, bringing an open palm to the left cheek of your ass, grabbing a bit of skin.

you nearly slipped off a sultry-sounding moan at his sudden touch but cutely grumbled, making him lie back with a flick of your finger before attacking the crook of his neck with wet kisses.

“oh.. my, aren’t you a frisky one today.”

“shut up, ‘toru.”

“hmph. you’re kinda mean when you’re horny, princess.. sexy.”

☆ ☆ ☆

it’s probably been hours - satoru’s had you in any and every position possible, showering every part of your body with its favorite combination of kisses ‘n compliments.

he just couldn’t help it.

especially when you just looked so effortlessly pretty like that underneath him.

currently, he had you in a mating press and oh-

as he’s on top of you—satoru gets lost in your lust-filled gaze. your eyes, they were like some sort of maze he could never find the exit from.

he’s much slower with his rhythm this time, cupping two palms underneath your thighs as he’s gradually feeding your cunt stroke after stroke. both pounds of skin ricocheted against each other, noisily papping as the clashing of grinding bodies continued.

your cunt’s just drooling, leaking with endless amounts of buttery clods of his sticky, hot cum. it dribbles out of your gummed slit, creating a frothy white ring around his base as his hips continue to wedge into your sopping wet pussy.

“ ‘toru- oh, satoru—ooh!” you’d squeal out, digging the edges of nails into his bare shoulder.

satoru’s grunting lowly against your neck, using a hand to bring both knees up to your chest. “haah- c’mon, princess. ‘m still not done fillin’ ya yet, gotta get this tummy nice ‘n plump,” and as his kiss-bitten lips hover against yours, he’s pouting.

satoru squeezes one of your tits before huffing. “these too. n- need to see ‘em full again, so fuckin’ full.”

satoru’s competing pitchy moans with you, each sound laced with nothing but lust and utter carnal desire.

from the inside, you had a sticky grip on him that had him utterly whipped.

satoru’s crimsoned tip spiraled its way around your cunt before sloppily thrashing its way against the convulsing nub of your pulsating clit.

leisurely, it batters its way toward that spot repeatedly until you’re just short-circuiting on his cock once again. “hngh- satoru, ohmygoddd,” you’d hysterically sob out, feeling his big hand cup underneath your chin.

your chin’s slick, and you were messily salivating a bit as he continued. moments later—satoru slips his middle finger inside of your mouth and you moaned, sucking it without a single given thought. “m- mhm.”

“good girl,” he groans, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier as his rickety pace picked up its quickening speed.

satoru’s hips were just downright rude, and he was just trying to savor each clasping clap of skin that he possibly could.

you looked so pretty with half-lidded eyes and webby clear strings of your saliva damply cascading down the sides of your lips.

“ ‘m gonna cum, sweetheart. you’re gonna . . hah- make me fuckin’ cuuum-” and you could hear solely from the tone of his voice, it was turning shaky.

each gasping syllable - it’s struggling desperately to hang on, faltering at each delivery of the next word that spills from his sleek lips.

“mng-” your moan, and satoru hummed before snatching his digit back from between your lips. he leans in to kiss you, delving his hot tongue straight into your mouth.

he’s hungry, demanding access as the tip of the pink muscle circles its way around the inside of your mouth.

it brushes against your flat tongue before his teeth greet your lips once more—giving it a needy ‘let me in’ gnaw. you part your lips so he could have more access, and satoru moans into your mouth.

“satoru, ‘m gonna cum too-” you breathlessly admit, briefly seeing splotches of white once your eyes mindlessly roll back on their own.

he’s so biiiig, stretching you to the very fullest ‘till the very end.

as your legs sporadically shook, you’re letting off sweet hurried gasps once you felt his cock expanding through your guts yet again.

you’re feeling butterflies scatter inside you everywhere, and not once did that familiar pool of heat sensation subside.

instead, it grows stronger and hotter, and you’re mentally fanning yourself as his engorged tip surprises your cervix for the umpteenth time.

it's constant - it happens more than once and it always always always feels like the first fuckin’ time.

his cock’s still leaking from his recent non-stop releases, and blood’s starting to rush to satoru’s head.

raucous, fast-paced breaths wafted against both opened mouths as satoru’s cock attentively drills into your inviting cunt at a more weakened speed.

he’s literally drowning in your pussy, your slick wetness his ultimate weakness.

as weak arms wrap around his neck, you brush a thumb down his undercut — earning a soft whiny, “h.. hey,” snatch from his lips.

satoru’s body was damn near smushed over yours nearly crushed you with his soft squishing weight.

still, though, he’s making sure to hover to where he wasn’t crushing you fully - having his rounded tummy grinding back ‘n forth against your body. as his body rubs its way onto yours after each stroke, you felt satoru’s noticeable happy trail tickle against the outer entrance of your cunt.

“ugh-” satoru sucks in a delayed breath, pressing his forehead against yours.

weakly, his knees began to fatally buckle as his nearly-drained cock’s still pushing its way through your squeezing pussy.

the build up of it all was just utterly blissful.

satoru’s shallow breath gets taken away from him like that, and he could feel himself going limp the microsecond his dick’s starting to spray inside you. “oh fuck, oh f- fuuuck.”

he grumbles, delicately sinking his teeth into your neck. he’s swallowing hard, losing all sorts of composure as his limbs start to quit functioning as if it was some sort of machine.

your finish shortly comes after too, but you end up gushing this time - and not just between your legs.

satoru hears your sweet surprised yelps before looking down, noticing your perked nipples were a bit more hardened than usual. they looked swollen - more plump than usual, and shiny.

you’re squirting down his cock, hearing the lewd squelches confirm that very fact as you even leak a bit from the centres of your nipples.

“holy shit-,” satoru blinks, and embarrassment interrupts your high almost right away.

your first instinct was to cover your face, and satoru leans in between the valley of your chest. your orgasm was so powerful that you ended up getting milked out yourself - literally.

cautiously, he slides his tongue around one of your nipples that’s dribbling with treacly dewdrops of white sweetness. it’s not even a lot, but it’s just enough because he purrs against your skin once the creamy taste hits the buds of his tongue.

“mmng-” and as he’s still pumping probably the fifth load into you, your cunt ends up clenching around him - wringing him so damn dry.

satoru’s taking turns sucking both of your plump tits, savoring the taste before his half-open eyes land on you.

he’s sloppy - encircling the tip of his sticky tongue over the ring of each tit before ‘popping’ one nipple after another from his lips.

satoru’s sweating, and he’s panting even more after your cute ‘lil outburst.

a gooey ring of cum bubbles around the thick base of his cock as he’s still stuffed inside you deep, but he wasn’t even thinking about that anymore.

sighing, he rubs the back pad of his thumb against one of your nipples that was still slightly leaking before he laps it right up, staring at you intently the entire time. his cum’s still spilling out, splattering on your tummy with his tip a fiery red.

“mmh, that’s hah- new. didn’t know you were still ah- leaking, princess. i have that much of an effect on you?”

“s.. shut up-” you moaned, your body still trying to get over its recent climax.

between the arc of your chest — you’re covered with sweat too. satoru hums to himself, tending to each breast before gently grabbing your chin.

“ ‘m guessing that’s a sign that you’re havin’ your seasonal baby fever again, yeah?” satoru smugly grins, feeling your body faintly twitching underneath him. “uh oh.”

his tongue against your tender nipples felt so good that it took you a while to generate a response in your brain that was just short-circuited completely.

deadpanning, you let off a grumbling, “obviously, satoru.”

“sorry, sorrrrry!” he huffs, pressing a kiss to your lips. you whimpered against his lips as his thumbs still tickled against each spurting nipple while his tongue curled around the inside of your mouth.

his touch was always soft, leaving you breathless every time.

your cunt’s overflowed with cum though - and even as his lips glued against yours, you could feel the slippery milky masses stream down from your slick, foaming against both pairs of stilled skin.

everything feels so hot - but satoru’s breath colliding against your tongue felt even hotter.

he’s just so enamored by you, and he can’t help but softly reach for your wrist.

“mng- satoru..” you whined against smacking pairs of lips, strings of loose saliva threatening to tear apart slickly.

“shh,” he whispers, breaking away from your lips to grab onto your hand.

he turns it around, bringing it toward his lips before pressing a single wet kiss against the back of your index finger.

there - your wedding ring beamed bright, brighter than any gem as his lips stamped against the tiny individual diamonds that made up the pricey rock.

you felt your heart flutter, watching silently as he starts to kiss your wedding ring again, again, and again, and again. .

“hah- that’s how many more babies we’re gonna make.”

one … two … three … f-

as you were trying to count in your head, satoru cheekily hummed before cocking his head. “heh, better get started.” and you moaned for a final time, hearing his cock wetly slide its way from your cum-filled cunt.

filthily, such creamed amounts ooze out of you and he hears the pretty sloshes commence not even seconds later. satoru then presses his silver wedding ring against your bare stomach before giving you one final kiss.

glancing up at you teasingly, satoru smacks the swollen crown head of his cock against your folds.

“now.. c’mon, mama gojo. upsie hah- daisy,” satoru throatily grunts, pushing your knees right back up to their initial position.

he just wanted to kiss the cute pout off your lips.

your thighs still shook—and satoru huffs heavily, bringing one hand to squeeze your breast, another easing his fat crowned tip inside of your sobbing pussy.

“let those legs stretch for me one more time. attaaaa girl. tha’s my girl-”

and as gojo leans in to press a soft kiss against your tummy, he hums.

“heh- we’ve got a loooot of mini gojos to make, mommy.”

[xo100]

Little dreams - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Y/N takes her son Leo to his first Grand Prix, where they meet his idol, Lando Norris. Lando’s kindness makes the weekend unforgettable, sparking joy for Leo and the possibility of something more for Y/N.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1624

*:･ﾟ A/N: a few days ago I saw on insta that they now released his merch for kids and I immediately had to write a cute fic about it bc the hoodies are absolutely adorable!!!

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The Silverstone paddock buzzed with its usual chaos. Engines roared in the background, journalists hustled between interviews, and fans craned their necks for glimpses of their favorite drivers. Among the crowd, a young boy with a mop of dark hair and a light blue hoodie clung to his mother’s hand, his face alight with wonder.

“Mom, this is the best day ever!” he exclaimed, his small feet practically bouncing with excitement.

His mother, Y/N, smiled down at him, squeezing his hand gently. “I’m glad you’re having fun, Leo. But remember, we have to stick together, okay? This place can get pretty crowded.”

Leo nodded earnestly, his big brown eyes scanning the bustling paddock. At just six years old, he already knew more about Formula 1 than most adults, a passion inherited from his mom. Y/N had grown up watching races with her dad, and now, as a single mother, she shared that same love with her son.

Leo’s favorite driver, without question, was Lando Norris. His room was decorated with McLaren posters, his toy cars all painted papaya orange, and his wardrobe—thanks to Y/N—now included Lando’s newly launched children’s merch line. The hoodie he wore today was his favorite piece, and he hadn’t stopped talking about it since it arrived in the mail.

“Do you think we’ll see him, Mom?” Leo asked, craning his neck to peer around a group of photographers.

Y/N crouched down to his level, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. “Maybe, sweetheart. We have paddock passes, so there’s a chance. But remember, the drivers are super busy, so we have to be patient.”

Leo nodded, though the excitement in his eyes didn’t dim. He clutched the small notepad and marker he’d brought, just in case he got the chance to ask for an autograph.

As they wandered through the paddock, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia. It had been years since she’d attended a race in person, but seeing it through Leo’s eyes made it even more magical.

“Mom! Look!” Leo’s voice was a mix of awe and urgency as he tugged on her hand.

Y/N followed his gaze and froze. Just a few feet away, leaning casually against a barrier and chatting with a team member, was Lando Norris himself.

“Go on,” Y/N encouraged softly, her heart swelling at the sight of her son’s hero so close.

Leo hesitated for a moment, his small frame vibrating with nervous energy. Then, with a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and marched forward.

“Hi, Lando!” he said, his voice high-pitched but clear. “You’re my favorite driver!”

Lando turned, his trademark grin lighting up his face as he crouched to Leo’s level. “Hey, buddy! Thanks for saying that. What’s your name?”

“Leo!” he said proudly, puffing out his chest. “And look! I’m wearing your hoodie!”

Lando’s eyes lit up as he took in the light blue hoodie, the logo of his brand displayed prominently on the front. “No way! That looks awesome on you, Leo. You’ve got great taste.”

Leo beamed, clutching the fabric of his hoodie. “My mom got it for me. She says you’re really cool, too!”

Y/N, who had been hanging back to give Leo his moment, felt her cheeks flush as Lando’s gaze shifted to her. He stood, his grin softening into something more genuine.

“Your mom sounds pretty cool herself,” he said, his voice warm.

Y/N stepped forward, laughing nervously. “Well, I’ve been a fan of the sport for a long time, so I guess I’m passing it on.”

“You’re doing a great job,” Lando said, glancing down at Leo, who was now rifling through his notepad. “It’s always nice to meet fans like you two.”

Leo held up the notepad eagerly. “Can you sign this? Please?”

“Of course!” Lando took the marker and scribbled a quick note, adding a little doodle of a race car next to his signature.

As he handed the notepad back, he turned to Y/N again. “Are you two here for the whole weekend?”

“Yes,” Y/N said. “It’s Leo’s first race, so I wanted to make it special.”

“Well, I think you’ve done a pretty good job so far,” Lando said, his tone teasing.

Y/N laughed, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “Thanks. He’s been counting down the days for months.”

Lando crouched down again, ruffling Leo’s hair. “I hope you have the best time, Leo. And make sure you cheer extra loud for me, okay?”

“I will!” Leo promised, his face glowing with happiness.

As they walked away, Leo clutching his notepad like a treasure, Y/N glanced back over her shoulder. To her surprise, Lando was still watching them, a thoughtful smile on his face.

“Mom,” Leo said, looking up at her. “That was the best moment of my whole life.”

Y/N smiled, her heart full. “Mine too, sweetheart.”

Little did she know, it wasn’t the last time she’d see that thoughtful smile.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of excitement. Leo couldn’t stop talking about meeting Lando, recounting every detail of their conversation to anyone who would listen. Y/N smiled through it all, her heart full as she watched her son’s joy.

But as much as she tried to focus on the moment, she couldn’t quite shake the memory of Lando’s lingering gaze or the warmth in his voice when he spoke to her. It was probably nothing, she told herself. He was just being kind, like he always was with fans.

The next day, Y/N and Leo returned to the paddock, both dressed in their McLaren gear. Leo wore his hoodie again, proudly showing off the autograph Lando had added to the sleeve. The boy was on cloud nine, and Y/N couldn’t imagine how the weekend could get any better.

But then, it did.

As they wandered near the McLaren garage, a team member approached them with a friendly smile.

“Excuse me, are you Leo?”

Leo’s eyes widened as he nodded. “Yes! That’s me!”

The team member chuckled. “Lando mentioned meeting you yesterday. He thought you might like a closer look at the garage. Would you and your mom like to come in?”

Y/N blinked in surprise, her heart skipping a beat. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. Follow me.”

Leo practically dragged Y/N by the hand as they followed the team member into the garage. The space was a hive of activity, with engineers working on the cars and team members preparing for the upcoming qualifying session.

Lando was there, of course, leaning casually against the side of his car as he chatted with his race engineer. When he spotted Leo and Y/N, his face lit up with a grin.

“Leo! You made it!”

Leo beamed, running up to him. “This is so cool! Thank you, Lando!”

“Anything for my number one fan,” Lando said, ruffling Leo’s hair. He glanced at Y/N, his smile softening. “Glad you could make it, too.”

“I can’t believe this,” Y/N said, shaking her head. “This is amazing. Thank you so much.”

Lando shrugged, his eyes twinkling. “It’s nothing, really. I just wanted to make sure Leo had a weekend to remember.”

Leo was already engrossed in a conversation with one of the engineers, who was showing him the car’s steering wheel. Y/N took the opportunity to step closer to Lando.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she said, her voice low. “But it means the world to him. To both of us.”

Lando tilted his head, his gaze steady. “I could tell how much this means to you two. And honestly, it’s nice to meet fans who care about more than just the results. You’ve raised a great kid.”

Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

They stood there for a moment, the noise of the garage fading into the background. Lando’s easy smile and the warmth in his eyes made her feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time—hope.

“Mom! Look!” Leo’s excited voice broke the moment as he ran over, holding a small piece of carbon fiber. “They gave me a piece of the car! Isn’t that cool?”

“That’s amazing, sweetheart,” Y/N said, crouching to his level. “You’ll have to find a special place for it at home.”

Leo nodded enthusiastically before turning back to Lando. “You’re the best driver ever!”

Lando laughed, crouching down to Leo’s level. “And you’re the best fan ever. Deal?”

“Deal!”

As they left the garage, Y/N couldn’t help but glance back one last time. Lando caught her eye and gave her a small wave, his smile lingering.

The rest of the weekend was a whirlwind of excitement. Leo cheered his heart out during qualifying and the race, and when Lando crossed the finish line in fourth place, he celebrated as if it were a win.

But the real surprise came after the race. As Y/N and Leo were preparing to leave, a McLaren team member approached them again, this time with an envelope.

“Lando asked me to give this to you,” he said, handing it to Y/N.

Curious, she opened it. Inside was a handwritten note:

Y/N and Leo, Thank you for making this weekend unforgettable. Leo, keep being the amazing fan you are. And Y/N, if you’re ever at another race, I’d love to see you again. Maybe we can grab a coffee sometime? -Lando

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she read the note. She glanced at Leo, who was already excitedly telling a passerby about his piece of the car, and then back at the note.

Maybe, just maybe, this weekend wasn’t just a dream come true for Leo.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

*:･ﾟtags; @gridprincess-04 , @justaf1girl

[requiemforthepoets]

the story we won’t tell is my greatest fantasy ⟢ LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: seven years. you and lando had been together for seven years, but it all went down the drain the moment he decided to come clean about the mistake that he did.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, breakup, cheating, cheater lando, pregnancy, secret child, mentions of nausea and vomiting, fainting, angst, open ending, math is not mathing (but i tried), some inaccuracies, named side characters (except for the reader), single!mom reader, and minor typographical errors

WORD COUNT: 7.2k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this fic is inspired by niki’s song ‘apartment we won’t share,’ ik that we have diff interpretations for the songs, but i interpret it as the way how i wrote this fic. i’m not planning on doing a second part of this, and just leave it an open ending. but if someday i get inspired, i’ll try and make a part 2 for this, though for now, there will be no part 2 for this fic. i will be leaving the ending all up to you. you comments/reblogs is highly appreciated, and i hope that you’ll enjoy this one.

It had been a long and exhausting week. The lingering ache from your family emergency still tugged at your heart, so to keep off your mind from things, you had spent most of the day sorting through Lando’s things, folding clothes and making sure his suitcase was ready for his flight to another race weekend. It was the kind of task you had done so many times in the last seven years, but this time, it felt heavier, like there was something wrong that you couldn’t quite place.

When Lando returned to Monaco a few days later, you expected him to be his usual vibrant self, but something was off with him. Lando’s eyes seemed heavier, his posture slouched, and smile lacked the spark that you were used to.

“Hey, can we talk for a second?” he asked, voice unusually subdued.

You set down the shirt you had been folding, brows furrowing. “Sure, of course,” you replied, taking a seat on the couch. “What’s on your mind?”

Lando hesitated, hands fidgeting with the edge of his hoodie. He sat across from you, knees bouncing slightly as he stared at the floor. “You know I love you, right? More than anything.”

A faint smile crossed your lips. “I know, Lan, and you made sure to let me know everyday for seven years.”

He looked up briefly, gaze fleeting before dropping back to the floor. “I need to tell you something, I wanted to be completely honest with you…and it’s probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Lando’s tone, demeanor—it was all wrong, and you were getting really nervous by now. “What is it?” you asked, voice quiet, wary.

Lando took a deep breath, his hands now gripping his knees as if to ground himself. “When I was out for a night with the guys a month ago…I messed up.”

Your stomach churned. You didn’t want to interrupt him, waiting for Lando to continue, though every fiber of your being wanted to scream at him, to demand some answers.

“There was…someone at the club that night,” he said, words slow and measured, like he was forcing them out of him. “It was stupid, an honest mistake. I was so drunk, caught up in everything, and I wasn’t thinking.”

You felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. “W-What are you saying?” you managed, voice barely above a whisper.

Lando finally looked at you, eyes glistening. “I accidentally slept with her. It was a one-time thing, I swear, then she called me last week—I don’t even know how she got my number, but she told me that she’s pregnant.

Pregnant.

The words hit you like a freight train. You stared at him, mind completely blank, unable to process what he had just said. Tears began to blur your vision, but you didn’t wipe them away.

“Lando…” you tried to speak up, but your voice cracked.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” he said, voice shaking. “I didn’t know what to do. All I could think about was how much I’ve hurt you. But I can’t let my kid grow up without a family. I know how much family means to you, to me. I have to be there for them.”

Your heart shattered into pieces. You could see how much Lando was struggling, the guilt etched into every line of his face. But the pain of his betrayal was unbearable.

“I don’t…I don’t have anything to say anymore, honestly,” you said finally, voice trembling. “Because you had already made your decision—you’re choosing them.”

Lando shook his head vehemently. “No! No, I’m not choosing anyone over you. You’re the love of my life. That hasn’t changed and never will.”

“Lando, you can’t have both,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “I can’t stay here knowing all of these. I can’t be a part of this.”

He reached out as if to touch you, but you recoiled. You couldn’t bear his touch right now. “Please love,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I love you. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

“You already have,” you said softly, standing up and wiping your tears. “I won’t hold you back, Lando. You need to do what’s right for your child. They deserve a family, and I will not be the reason why they don’t have one.”

You walked to your shared bedroom, your movements mechanical as you began packing your things. Every item you placed in your suitcase felt like a dagger to your chest. This apartment had been your home, your safe haven, and now it was just a place you needed to escape from. Lando just stood in the doorway, watching you pack all of your things, his face pale and tear-streaked. He didn’t try to stop you—he knew that he couldn’t.

When you zipped up your suitcase and grabbed your bag, you turned to him one last time. “Take care of both of them,” you said, voice barely audible. “Be the father they need.

With that, you walked out of the apartment, out of the life you and Lando had built together. You had loved him for seven years, trusted him with every piece of your heart. But now, all you had was the emptiness of what could have been.

The crisp night air bit at your skin as you stood by the entrance of the apartment building, clutching the handle of your suitcase. Your ride to the airport was just a few minutes away, but the wait felt eternal. You stared blankly at the sidewalk, mind is a chaotic mess, the weight of everything that had happened tonight pressing heavily on your chest.

You heard familiar voices approaching before you saw them, their cheerful tones instantly recognizable. Quickly, you wiped at your cheeks, hoping your red-rimmed eyes wouldn’t give you away. Plastering on a smile, you turned towards Max and Kelly as they walked towards the entrance, hand in hand, their expressions bright despite the late hour.

“Hey! What are you doing out here so late?” Kelly asked, brows knitting in concern as she noticed the two large suitcases beside you.

You hesitated, forcing your smile to stay in place. “I, uh, have a family emergency,” you lied smoothly, voice steady even though your heart was pounding. “I need to head back home for a bit.”

Max tilted his head slightly, sharp blue eyes scanning you with the protective gaze you had come to know so well over the years. “Two large suitcases for just a quick trip? That seems a bit much,” he remarked lightly, though his tone carried a hint of suspicion.

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “It’s just…really complicated right now. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, so I packed extra, just in case.”

Kelly’s hand tightened on Max’s arm as she stepped closer to you, her concern evident. “Is Lando not home right now? Why didn’t you tell us earlier? We could’ve helped you pack, we can drive you to the airport.”

You shook your head quickly. “Lan’s already sleeping and I hate to wake him up, he just recently got back from his trip. I also didn’t want to bother you, I’ve already called a car, and it should be here any minute.”

They exchanged a look, clearly unconvinced but respectful enough not to press you further. “Well, we’re not leaving you out here alone,” Max said firmly. “We’ll wait with you until your ride gets here.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the determined set of his jaw told you it would all be just pointless. Instead, you nodded, grateful for their presence even as it made it harder to hold yourself together.

Kelly gave you a warm smile, trying to ease the tension. “It’s late, but P was asking about you earlier,” she said softly. “She’s been begging to have another day with her favorite Auntie.”

Your heart clenched at the mention of Penelope, and you forced your smile to widen. “I’ll miss her so much,” you said, voice thick despite your best efforts. “Tell her I’ll see her soon.”

Kelly’s brow furrowed slightly at your words, but before she could say anything, your ride had pulled up to the curb. Relief and dread washed over you in equal measure. Max then stepped forward immediately, grabbing your suitcases with ease.

“I’ll load these up for you,” he said, tone gruff but kind.

“Thank you,” you murmured, watching as he placed your suitcases in the trunk of the car.

When Max turned back, Kelly pulled you into a tight hug, her familiar perfume bringing a rush of bittersweet comfort. “Take care of yourself, okay?” she whispered. “Whatever’s going on, we’re here for you.”

You nodded against her shoulder, your throat too tight to respond. When she pulled away, Max had stepped forward, wrapping you in a hug that was strong and protective, just like he always was.

“Be back soon, okay? P will be missing her favorite Aunt.” he said, chuckling. “If you need anything, you call me or Kelly. No excuses.”

“I will,” you promised, though you knew that you wouldn’t.

As you stepped back, Kelly offered you a gentle smile. “When you get back, P will be so excited to see you again. You know how much she loves spending time with you.”

The lump in your throat grew, and you could only nod in response. You managed a faint smile as you climbed into the car, giving them one final wave.

“Safe travels,” Kelly called out as Max closed the door for you.

You watched them through the window, standing together on the curb, their figures illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. They waved as the car pulled away, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wave back again. Instead, you turned your gaze forward, the city lights blurring through the tears that silently slid down your cheeks.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.

When you finally arrived back home, the weight of the long hour of flight clung to you like a heavy fog. You dragged your suitcases through the familiar front door, exhaustion etched into every inch of your body. The warm, welcoming scent of your childhood home did little to comfort you, instead, it only amplified the ache in your chest. All you wanted was to collapse into your bed and wake up to a world where none of this had ever happened—a world where your heart wasn’t shattered into pieces. But this was your reality, as cruel as it was.

You definitely hadn’t anticipated seeing your older sister, Noelle, and her husband, Mike, in the living room, seated across from your mother, their laughter filling the space. The sound abruptly stopped when they noticed you standing in the doorway, your pale face and tired eyes a huge giveaway of the turmoil you tried so desperately to hide.

“What are you doing here?” Noelle asked, rising from her seatc brows knitting together in concern. “You didn’t tell us that you were coming home.”

Noelle’s brows knit together as she took in your disheveled appearance, her sharp eyes catching every detail—dark circles under your eyes, stiffness in your movements, and the forced smile you mustered.

“Yeah,” you replied quietly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I, uh, needed to come home for a bit.”

Your mother rose from her seat as well, concern etched into her features. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” she asked softly, gaze darting between you and the suitcases you had left by the door.

You hesitated, throat tightening. You had been dreading this moment, knowing full well how much your family adored Lando so much. They had welcomed him with open arms from the start, treating him as one of their own. Now, you were about to break their hearts almost as much as he had broken yours.

“It’s nothing,” you said, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I just needed a change of scenery, that’s all.”

Noelle stood, arms crossed as she gave you a pointed look. “Don’t give me that kind of excuse. You don’t just show up unannounced looking like this for no reason. What really happened?”

You swallowed hard, avoiding Noelle’s gaze. “Lando and I broke up,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

The whole room fell silent, the weight of your words sinking in. Your mother’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide with shock. “Oh, my darling sweetheart,” she breathed.

Noelle, however, was not so subdued. “What?” she exclaimed, voice rising. “What do you mean you broke up? What happened? Did he do something stupid?”

“No!” you said quickly, shaking your head. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like?” she pressed, tone sharp.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay composed. “We just…fell out of love. The both of us,” you said, hating the words even as you said then. “We’ve been together for so long, and I guess we just realized that we weren’t the same people years ago anymore. It didn’t make sense to keep on pretending, we’ll just end up hurting ourselves in the long run.”

Noelle’s eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced. “That doesn’t sound like Lando at all. The man adores you so much, even worships the ground you walk on.”

“He did,” you said softly, chest tightening. “And I adored him too. But people change, feelings change.”

Your mother stepped closer, her hands reaching for yours. “Are you sure this is what you wanted?” she asked gently.

You nodded, the lump in your throat growing. “It’s for the best,” you lied, voice cracking slightly.

Mike, who had been silent until now, placed a hand on Noelle’s shoulder. “If this is what she’s decided, we should respect it,” he said quietly, giving you a small, understanding nod.

Noelle just sighed, clearly torn between pressing you for further information and letting it go. Finally, she relented, though her expression was still skeptical.

“I just don’t want you to regret this,” she said, voice more softer now. “You two were so good together.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep you from breaking down. “I’ll be okay, eventually,” you said, words hollow.

Your mother pulled you into a tight embrace, her warmth briefly soothing the ache in your chest. “Whatever happens, we’re always here for you,” she murmured.

“Thanks, mommy,” you whispered, blinking back tears.

As you pulled away, your sister gave you a long look, her expression unreadable. “If he hurt you—” she started, but you cut her off.

“He didn’t,” you said firmly, voice steady despite the storm inside you. “It just didn’t work out. That’s all.”

Noelle still didn’t look convinced, but she nodded, clearly sensing that there’s more to it, and you didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “Alright,” she said quietly. “But if you ever want to talk, I’m here, okay? We’re all here.”

You gave her a small smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes like it used to. “Thank you,” you said, words barely audible.

Excusing yourself, you retreated to your old bedroom, closing the door behind you gently and sinking onto the comfort of your bed. The familiar surroundings brought no comfort, only a stark reminder of the life you had left behind. While you lay down, staring at the ceiling, the tears finally came, silent and unrelenting.

You had still protected Lando from your family’s anger, even though he did not deserve any of it, and now, you were left to pick up the pieces alone.

The Nausea hits you like clockwork every morning. You found yourself rushing to the bathroom, stomach twisting in protest against seemingly nothing. It had started a few weeks ago, and though you had initially dismissed it as a lingering flu or perhaps the stress with work finally catching up to you, it was becoming harder to ignore. Rest didn’t seem to help you, but you assured yourself that it wasn’t that serious. Besides, you have work to focus on, and that was enough to keep your mind occupied, most of the time.

Two months had already passed since you had left Monaco for good, and life had begun to settle into a new rhythm. Yes, the ache in your chest was still there, but it had been dulled into something manageable. You were slowly rebuilding yourself, piece by piece, though the nausea was an unwelcome distraction.

It was a normal afternoon, while you were curled up on the beanbag chair in your bedroom after a long and tiring day, your phone buzzed. The caller ID that was displayed on the screen made your breath catch for a moment—Kelly. You hesitated before answering, already bracing yourself for the conversation. Her face appeared on the screen, bright and concerned.

“Finally, I caught you!” she said with a smile, though her tone was tinged with worry. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

You shook your head, chuckling and offered her a small smile. “I’m so sorry, Kelly. Things have been so busy with me lately.”

Kelly’s brow furrowed slightly as she studied your face. “You look tired. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, it’s just a silly flu,” you said quickly, but the faint edge in your voice didn’t go unnoticed.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said gently. “Max and I found out about it already, about you and Lando.”

Your chest tightened, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “Oh.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked, expression softening. “We would’ve been there for you. You’ve been through this all alone.”

You sighed, your shoulders sagging. “I didn’t want to drag anyone else into the mess, and I didn’t even know what to say.”

Kelly’s voice grew firmer. “You didn’t have to say anything, we would’ve understood. Max is furious with Lando, you know. So is Carlos. I even have to break the two of them away from Lando.”

Your heart sank at the thought. “Please don’t be mad at him. It’s not worth it.”

Kelly shook her head, lips pressing into a thin line. “It is worth it. What Lando did to you was unforgivable. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured, though the words felt hollow. “I’ll move on, eventually.”

Kelly’s expression softened again, and she leaned closer to the camera. “I just wish you’d let us help you. You know we love you, right? You’ve always been family to us.”

“I know,” you whispered, tears pricking at your eyes.

Her face brightened slightly. “But speaking of family, someone’s been dying to talk to you!”

Before you could respond, the screen shifted, and Penelope’s little face appeared, her eyes lighting up when she saw you. “AUNTIE!” she exclaimed, voice high with excitement.

”Hi, P!” You said, heart aching at the sight of her.

“I miss you so much!” she said, pouting slightly. “When are you coming back? Mommy says you’re not in Monaco anymore.”

You hesitated, unsure of how to explain. “I miss you too, darling. I just…I had to be somewhere else for a while.”

“But you’ll come back, right?” she asked, her big eyes staring at you expectantly.

You swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “We’ll see, P. For now, you have to be good for your mommy and Maxie, okay?”

“I’m always good!” she declared, puffing out her chest.

Kelly’s voice chimed in from the background. “That’s debatable,” she teased, earning a giggle from Penelope.

You couldn’t help but smile, even as your chest tightened. “You’re the best, P. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Okay!” she said brightly before turning to Kelly. “Mommy, can we call Auntie again tomorrow?”

Kelly returned to the screen, giving you a knowing look. “We’ll let her rest for now, P. But yes, we’ll call Auntie again soon.”

“Promise?” Penelope asked, her eyes wide.

“Promise,” Kelly said, smiling before turning back to you. “Take care of yourself, okay? And if you need anything, anything, just call me.”

You nodded. “Thank you so much, Kelly. I will.”

After ending your facetime call with Kelly, you stumbled into the bathroom, your stomach churning violently. The moment you stepped inside, you collapsed in front of the toilet, heaving uncontrollably. It felt as though your insides were twisting, every muscle tensing in protest. When it finally subsided, you shakily wiped your mouth, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You looked pale—paler than usual, and eyes were bloodshot from the strain.

It took you a couple of minutes to compose yourself before heading to the kitchen, hoping the water would help settle your spinning head. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, you poured the water, but as you lifted it to your lips, another wave of dizziness hit you. This time, it was stronger. Your grip faltered, and the glass slipped from your hand, shattering loudly as it hit the floor.

The sharp noise brought Noelle and Mike running into the kitchen. They froze when they saw you swaying on your feet, barely managing to stay upright. You blinked, trying to focus, but everything around you was growing hazier. Before you could say anything, your legs gave way beneath you, and you crumpled to the floor, your vision blackening as you began to lose consciousness. Noelle was by your side in an instant, her hands gentle but urgent as she checked your pulse.

“Don’t worry, she’s alive,” Noelle muttered, voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. “Mike, call an ambulance now!”

Mike didn’t hesitate, rushing to grab his phone and calling for help. You could hear Mike’s voice in the background, muffled and frantic as he spoke to the operator.

“Yes, we need an ambulance,” Mike said, tone clipped, almost too calm for the situation. “My sister-in-law collapsed, and we need help immediately.”

Noelle’s voice cut through your haze, trying to keep you steady. “Come on, stay with me, okay? Just hold on.”

You couldn’t respond, couldn’t even make a sound, but you could hear them both, voices blending with the rush of adrenaline in the air. Mike’s footsteps moved swiftly, his voice growing more distant as he spoke with the ambulance on the phone.

The minutes that followed felt like hours. The sound of the ambulance siren grew louder, and relief flooded Noelle’s face as the paramedics rushed into the house. They quickly assessed the situation, asking Noelle questions about your symptoms and recent health conditions.

“She’s been experiencing dizziness for weeks now,” Noelle explained. “She’s stubborn, didn’t want to see a doctor. This morning she was nauseous, and now she’s fainted.”

The paramedics nodded, lifting you onto the stretcher carefully. Noelle and Mike followed closely as they carried you out to the ambulance. “I’m coming with her to the hospital,” Noelle said firmly, climbing into the back of the ambulance without hesitation.

Mike stayed behind, watching the ambulance doors close with a worried expression. “Alright, I’ll be informing your mother when she arrives, but call me as soon as you know something,” he said to Noelle before they drove off.

Inside the ambulance, Noelle held your hand tightly, her fingers trembling against your own. “You’re going to be fine,” she said, though her voice was thick with concern. “Just breathe, okay? We’re almost there.”

You couldn’t focus on what Noelle was saying. The world had gone dark around you, only the pulse of your own heartbeat reminding you that you were still there, still fighting to stay conscious.

The steady beeping of the machines was the first thing you registered as you slowly opened your eyes, the sterile smell of the hospital room making everything feel surreal. Blinking against the harsh fluorescent light, your gaze landed on your sister, Noelle, sitting in one of the chairs beside your bed, her expression a mixture of worry and relief when she noticed you stirring.

“Noelle,” you croaked, voice hoarse from sleep and dryness.

She shot up almost instantly, coming to your side and helping you adjust into a sitting position in the hospital bed. Her hands were gentle but firm as she propped a pillow behind your back.

“Hey, take it easy, okay?” she said softly. She reached for a bottle of water on the bedside table, unscrewing the cap before handing it to you. “Here, drink up. Small sips.”

You followed her instructions, taking slow, careful sips, the cool water soothing your parched throat. “What happened? Why am I in the hospital?” you asked weakly, mind still foggy.

“You fainted in the kitchen,” Noelle explained, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You scared the hell out of us. Mike called the ambulance, and I came with you here. Mom and Mike are both on their way. They’ll be here soon.”

Before you could respond, there was a knock at the door, a doctor entered, her expression professional but kind. Noelle immediately stepped aside, letting her approach you.

“I’m glad that you’re awake now, my dear,” she began, smiling at you. “We’ve run some tests to determine the cause of your fainting and other symptoms.”

You nodded slowly, stomach churning with apprehension. Noelle moved closer to your side, her presence grounding you.

“We’ve reviewed your results,” she continued, glancing at her clipboard before meeting your eyes. “The dizziness, nausea, and vomiting you’ve been experiencing for the past weeks are all consistent with early pregnancy symptoms. Congratulations, you’re seven weeks pregnant!”

Pregnant. Pregnant.

For a moment, the words did not register. The hospital room seemed to grow impossibly still, the doctor’s voice fading into the background as you processed the news. Seven weeks. The timeline clicked into place, and your heart sank as realization hit. Seven weeks pregnant. You could hear the faint ringing in your ears, a sharp contrast to the quiet gasp from Noelle beside you.

“I…I’m sorry, what?” you managed to stammer, voice shaking.

“You’re pregnant, dear,” the doctor repeated gently. “Seven weeks along. Your vitals look good, but it’s important to start prenatal care as soon as possible. We’ve referred you to an OB-GYN who will guide you through the process and answer any questions you might have.”

You nodded numbly, unable to form any coherent response. The doctor continued to explain what you should expect in the coming weeks—dietary recommendations, plenty of rest, and the importance of regular check-ups. But her words felt very distant, as if you were hearing them through a fog.

When the doctor finally left, you were left staring blankly at the sterile white wall, the weight of the revelation crushing you. Seven weeks. You did the math in your head, mind racing. By now, you know that the woman Lando had gotten pregnant would be around three months into pregnancy.

Tears began to well up in your eyes, the enormity of the situation was starting to overwhelm you. You were carrying Lando’s child. That man had broken and shattered your heart into pieces, and who had chosen someone else, was now bound to you in a way that you could not escape.

“Noelle,” you whispered, voice breaking.

She knelt beside the bed, taking your trembling hands in hers. “I’m here. Don’t worry, I’m here, okay?” she said softly, her tone steady and reassuring.

“I don’t know what to do,” you cried, tears streaming down your face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. How am I supposed to handle this?”

Noelle’s grip on your hands tightened slightly, eyes full of concern. “I don’t have all the answers,” she admitted, “but you don’t have to go through this alone. Whatever you decide to do, I’ll be here for you—Mom and Mike, too. We’ll all figure this out together, okay?”

Two years had already passed, and your life was a world away from where it had been. Astrid, your little ray of sunshine, was turning two today. She was the center of your universe, your whole life, her giggles filling every corner of the house you had worked so hard to call your own. It was a beautiful home, just three doors away from your mother’s home, ensuring that Astrid was always surrounded by the love and warmth of your family.

Noelle and Mike, ever the doting aunt and uncle, spoiled her endlessly. They brought over toys, books, and clothes—sometimes more than you thought Astrid needed, but you couldn’t deny the happiness on Astrid’s face when they arrived with surprise in hand.

It’s true that your pregnancy and the early days of motherhood had not been easy, but you were able to survive. More than that, you thrived. With a promotion to a top position at work and a comfortable life for you and Astrid, you finally felt at peace. The past—Lando, was no longer a wound, but now a distant memory you had learned to accept. Your family also had long stopped asking questions about the details of your breakup, and while they knew Lando was Astrid’s father, they never dwelled on it. Astrid had all the love she needed, and that was what mattered most.

But there was one part of your life you had not reconciled yet—Max and Kelly. Despite keeping in touch with Kelly through regular facetime calls, you had managed to keep Astrid a secret. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust them, it was just too complicated to explain everything. It was already enough that they found out what Lando had done that caused your breakup.

However, when Kelly had mentioned that they would be spending their vacation in your home country and would be arriving the day before Astrid’s second birthday, you had a window of opportunity. It was time to take a step forward. So you had invited them to what you described as a simple gathering at your home. You didn’t explicitly tell them that it would be Astrid’s birthday party—just that it would be a chance to catch up and spend time together.

As the day drew closer, you found yourself torn between excitement and anxiety. What would they say when they realized the gathering that you had talked about was actually a celebration for your daughter? Would they feel hurt that you had kept Astrid a secret for so long?

These thoughts lingered as you finalized the decorations, baked Astrid’s favorite cake, and prepared the house for your guests. But when you looked at Astrid, happily playing with her toys in the living room, the doubt began to fade. This was your life now—a life filled with love and laughter, even if it was different from what you had once imagined.

The backyard was a colorful dream, adorned with streamers, balloons, and a banner that read, Happy 2nd Birthday! and Astrid’s favorite colors painted every corner of the space, and the laughter of children filled the air as they played games and ran around laughing. Astrid herself was the picture of happiness, twirling in her pretty dress, a bright smile on her face as she clung to her grandmother’s hand.

You excused yourself from the backyard, your hands brushing against your dress nervously as you stepped back into the kitchen to double-check the desserts. Rows of cupcakes sat neatly on the counter, each one topped with swirls of frosting and sprinkles. You picked one up, turning it slightly to make sure everything was perfect. Then the doorbell rang.

Your heart skipped a beat, a wave of nerves rushing through you. It had to be Max, Kelly, and Penelope. You wiped your hands on a towel, took a deep breath, and walked to the front door, steadying yourself before opening it. The moment you opened the door, cheerful shouts of ‘surprise!’ had greeted you. Kelly was the first to throw her arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug.

“It’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed, stepping back as Max swooped in for a hug.

“You’ve been hiding!” Max teased lightly, squeezing your shoulder before stepping aside to let Penelope in.

“Hi Auntie!” Penelope chirped, small arms wrapping tightly around your waist as she hugged you with all her might.

You bent down to her level, pulling her into a proper hug. “Hi, darling. I missed you so much!”

Penelope pulled back, her face beaming. “I missed you too, Auntie! Can I see your house?”

Before you could respond, the sound of children’s laughter drifted in from the backyard, catching their attention. Kelly tilted her head curiously.

“What’s going on back there?” she asked, brows furrowed. “That sounds like a lot of kids.”

Max glanced at you, an eyebrow raised. “Is this the simple gathering you mentioned?”

A nervous smile tugged at your lips as you stepped back, gesturing for them to follow. “Come on, follow me.”

You led them through the hallway and out through the glass doors that lead to the backyard, where the yard was buzzing with activity. Children were playing games, some of them are having the time of their life on the bouncy castle, parents chatted near the tables of food, and Astrid was in the middle of it all, her laughter carrying above the noise.

Penelope gasped in delight. “Can I please go play?” she asked, bouncing on her toes as she looked up at Max and Kelly.

Kelly nodded with a smile. “Of course, go ahead.”

Penelope dashed off, her excitement blending seamlessly with the other children. Kelly and Max, however, stood frozen, their eyes scanning the scene. It wasn’t long before they realized that this was not just any gathering.

“Is this…” Kelly began, voice trailing off.

“A birthday party?” Max finished for her, tone laced with confusion.

You nodded slowly, your smile nervous. “Yes. Actually,” you glanced at Astrid, who was now in your mother’s arms, laughing as your mother tickled her sides. “It’s her birthday party.”

Their confusion deepened as they followed your gaze. Max opened his mouth to speak, but Kelly beat him to it. “Her?” she asked, voice soft, almost uncertain.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over to your mother and gently took Astrid from her arms. Astrid immediately snuggled into your shoulder, her tiny hands clutching at your dress as she peeked at the newcomers. Turning back to Max and Kelly, you smiled, though your heart was racing.

“Guys, this is Astrid,” you said softly. “My daughter.”

For a moment, there was only silence as Max and Kelly processed your words. Kelly’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide, while Max stared at you, his expression a mix of shock and something deeper.

“You have a daughter?” Kelly finally asked, voice trembling slightly.

You nodded, holding Astrid a little tighter. “I do.”

Max’s voice was careful, almost cautious. “Where’s her father?”

The question hung heavy in the air, heavy and unspoken truths lingering just beneath the surface. You looked down at Astrid, avoiding Max’s gaze as you shifted your weight uncomfortably.

“He’s…not in the picture anymore,” you said quietly.

Max’s eyes narrowed slightly, jaw tightening. It was clear he had pieced everything together, but decided not to press further. Instead, his gaze softened as he looked at Astrid, who was now peering curiously at him. Kelly stepped forward, her initial shock melting into warmth.

“Can I hold her?” she asked gently.

You nodded, carefully handing Astrid over. Kelly cradled her as if she had been waiting for this moment forever, her face lighting up as Astrid stared at her with wide, curious eyes.

“She’s so beautiful,” Kelly murmured, voice thick with emotion.

Max crouched down slightly to Astrid’s level, his serious expression softening. “Hey there, little one,” he said, playfully covering his eyes with his hands and then revealing them. “Peekaboo!”

Astrid blinked at him, tiny lips began curling into a smile as Max covered his face with his hand again and revealed it with a loud ‘boo!’ Astrid’s laughter was immediate and infectious, filling the air and making Max grin wider.

“She likes you,” Kelly said with a laugh, glancing at Max as she bounced Astrid gently.

Max looked up, his expression a mix of amusement and something more tender. “What can I say? Kids love me.”

Penelope had run up to you with little Astrid in tow, face glowing with excitement. “Auntie, can Astrid play with me? I promise that I’ll take care of her,” she said, her little hands clasped together as she gave you the most earnest look.

You smiled, crouching down to their level. “Alright,” you said gently, brushing a strand of hair out of Astrid’s face. “But remember, she’s still very small, so be careful with her, okay?”

“I promise!” Penelope chirped. “Come on Astrid, let’s play!” she took Astrid’s hand and led her back towards the group of children.

Once they were settled, you turned to Max and Kelly, who were waiting nearby, their expressions a mix of curiosity and seriousness. You gestured towards the patio table, and the three of you moved to sit down. For a brief moment, there was an awkward silence, only broken by the distant sound of children laughing.

It was Max who spoke first. “So,” he began, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, “are you going to tell Lando about Astrid?”

“No.” you said firmly, meeting his gaze.

Kelly’s brows furrowed. “No?” she repeated, voice a mix of confusion and concern. “You don’t plan on telling him that he has a daughter?”

“Telling him that he has a daughter is not included in my plans,” you said quietly, glancing briefly at Astrid, who was now sitting on the grass with Penelope, giggling as they played.

Max exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. “But why?” he asked, voice steady but tinged with disbelief. “Don’t you think he has the right to know?”

You looked at Max, expression calm but resolute. “He had already made his choice and I made mine,” you said softly. “By the time I found out that I was pregnant, he was already committed to building a life with someone else—for their child. I’m not that ignorant, I’ve seen the articles, Max. It’s clear as daylight that he’s happy with them, he’s being the father that the child needs.”

Max sighed. “This isn’t about the articles or public perception. It’s about Astrid. She has the right to know who her father is, and Lando has a right to know about her.”

Kelly nodded in agreement with what had Max just said. “And what happens when she grows up and starts asking questions?”

“I’ll tell Astrid,” you said. “I’ll tell her when the time is right, I’ll explain everything to her. But for now, I’m protecting her. I don’t want her to feel like she was a second thought or an obligation. I don’t want to make her feel unwanted.”

Max shook his head slightly. “It’s not fair to Astrid, or to Lando,” he said, voice low. “He deserves to know. He deserves the chance to be a part of her life.”

“And what if Lando doesn’t want to be a part of her life, Max?” you said, voice cracking slightly and gripping the edge of the table. “What if yes, I ended up telling him, and he rejected her? What if I ruin the good thing he has now, for nothing? I’m not going to be the person who will bring chaos to my daughter’s life by trying to force something that might not even work, and I most definitely won't be the one who will tear Lando’s life apart just to ease my conscience.”

Kelly reached out, placing a hand gently on yours. “I understand that you’re scared,” she said softly. “And I understand why you’ve made your choice. But you don’t have to do this alone. Whatever you decide, we’ll support you. But please, just think about it, okay?”

You nodded, though you knew that your decision was firm and wouldn’t change. “Thank you,” you said quietly, looking between Max and Kelly. “I just need you both to trust me on this one. Trust that I’m doing what’s best for Astrid.”

Max hesitated, then finally nodded. “We’ll be keeping this just between the three of us,” he said, though there was a note of reluctance in his voice. “But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find us.”

Kelly smiled faintly, her grip on your hand tightening briefly before she let go. “Astrid is lucky to have you as her mother,” she said, voice warm. “She’s amazing and gorgeous, you know. She’s already so full of life.”

You smiled softly at Kelly’s words. “She is,” you said. “She really is.”

Glancing back towards the yard, you watched Astrid and Penelope play together, the sound of Astrid’s uncontrollable laughter filled the air, warming your heart in a way that words could never even describe. Her happiness was infectious, an important reminder of everything good in your life despite the path it had taken to get where you are now. But as your eyes lingered on her, there was a familiar ache that settled deep in your chest.

You couldn’t deny it—Astrid’s features were very unmistakable. Her eyes, so full of wonder and innocence, were a mirror image of Lando’s. Every now and then, when she turned her head a certain way or smiled just so, it was like seeing a glimpse of Lando again. The resemblance was undeniable, and it only grew stronger as Astrid got older. It was a bittersweet reality you carried with you every day.

Yet, despite the pain that came with those reminders, you were happy. Truly, deeply happy. Astrid was surrounded by love—a love so abundant that it filled every corner of her little world. She didn’t need anything else, not when you, your whole family, and everyone who cherished her. That love was enough, it had to be enough.

Letting Lando go was not easy. It had taken every ounce of strength you had to accept that the life you once imagined with him was not meant to be. But you had done it, you had learned to let him go. You had made peace with the fact that you were not the one he chose, and the woman you would never be was the one who was not his.

Someday, you knew, the time might come when you were ready to tell Lando about Astrid, ready to introduce him to the child you both brought into this world. But that day was not today. For now, you would let him continue living the life he had chosen, with the person he had chosen. You wished him nothing but happiness, even if it wasn’t with you.

You also hoped that Lando would one day find everything he was searching for, that he would feel fulfilled and content in the life he was building. Even if it hurts, you wanted that for him, and while he was busy living that life, the daughter you both would not raise together would still be here—waiting for him, even if he didn’t know it yet.

The breakup, heartache, and the choices you made were not what you had wanted, but they were what you needed. Sometimes, it’s hard to accept the fact that love is not enough to keep two people together, and that’s okay. It didn’t make the love you once shared with Lando any less real.

But for now, everything else could wait.

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

a/n: a naga kofi request!

warning: yandere behavior, restricting, double peen

It had been about a year since you had been taken to live with the naga who kept you prisoner. You had done an act of kindness, helping a snake cross the road so it didn’t get hit by oncoming traffic.

Unfortunately, though, a certain someone watched this from the treeline. He seemed almost amazed, realizing that perhaps there were some humans that did not think a snake like creature was a hideous abomination.

No, he soon realized you were nothing like any other human. The naga kept an eye on you, learning your daily schedule, never straying too far from the wooden area outside of your home.

At night he’d slither in, watching over you with possessive yellow eyes.

It wasn’t clear to him if he felt love for you, but the naga knew for sure he wanted nothing more than to have you for his own.

It was clear that soon, he wouldn’t be able to take the distance between you two any longer. He already considered you to be his, a thing he owned and got to do whatever he pleased with.

Late that night, he slithered into your room, his torso leaning against your bed as he took a moment to take in your sleeping face.

You looked peaceful and he could feel your soft and warm breaths against his face. Something about being so close to you had him all excited, his heart thumping painfully in his chest.

Why did he feel so… strange? You made his body heat up, something that shouldn’t be possible for a reptile like himself. But still, he felt warm and fuzzy all over every time he made his way to your bedside.

To keep you asleep while he carried you away, the naga sank his fangs into your neck. His venom could be many things, but tonight he made sure to give you a dose high enough to keep you asleep for a few hours.

Once you were in his den, he set you down on a pile of furs, unable to stop himself from staring at you. His lower body coiled around you tightly.

“So pretty… like a doll…”

While you slept in his arms, he gently brushed back your hair. The naga was being uncharacteristically gentle and tender with your unconscious body, his face nuzzling into your neck.

He was desperate to mark you.

You woke up in a huff, struggling the second you realized something was holding you in a tight grip. He attempted to calm you with soft kisses to your jaw, but when you wouldn’t stop moving he frowned deeply.

It couldn’t be helped, his snake body began to tighten around your body, his fingers working on your clit as he restricted all of your movements.

It was hard to breathe, but he didn’t dare to loosen his grip. You were his, and you’d learn who you belonged to soon enough.

His two cocks bulged against his slit, poking out and rubbing your clothed cunt. Watching your struggling slow down and turn into weak squirming made him hard beyond belief.

“That’s it, pet. Don’t you understand you can’t get away? Just let me make you feel good.”

He pushed your panties to the side. Before, he had planned on starting off gentle. The naga would only push one of his cocks in after fingering your fat, sopping wet cunt until you begged for his second cock.

But now that he had you at his mercy, he couldn’t help but shove both of his cocks inside of you, stretching your poor pussy out and making you tear up.

If only you had struggled a little less, he wouldn’t have been so damn horny. It was all futile, nothing escaped his iron grip.

His cocks were covered in slick as his hips slapped against yours. It was so easy to work you up, playing with your clit made you so, so wet, and you rather enjoyed being completely powerless.

The feeling of his lips and fangs on your neck made you shiver, your breasts being groped and played with roughly as you finally stopped struggling.

At this point you were panting, struggling to take in big breaths as you reached your peak. He was hitting that perfect spot with both cocks, and you were seeing stars.

The two of you came, cum pouring into your womb. He groaned against your neck and continued to thrust into you well after he finished cumming. You could tell he wanted to continue… but it seemed he was being nice to his little mate.

For now.

The naga carried you further into his den, curling around your body too keep you safe from any predators or potential rivals.

His teeth sunk into your flesh multiple times that night. He had to make sure everyone could tell you were his property, his little mate.

“All mine, little one.”

————————

YANDERE TAGLIST: @katerinaval @avalordream @atransmuter @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96 @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @sandramalikstyles-blog @anonymouskiwi @pedropascalbabygirl @flamefoxx @an-ever-angry-bi @bath1lda @ilyanadelarosa @iswearimnotadrugdealer @whysageee

[astonmartinii]

other side of the moon - chapter five | formula one imagine

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

one big car launch with every driver in attendance - what can go wrong?

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | SERIES MASTERLIST

whatever bright spark decided that formula one needed one big, fancy car launch must want y/n dead. here she stood in one of the many green rooms in a black dress that’s a little too tight and an absolute pain to sit down in.

on one side of the room george sits in his dressing gown being doted on five different people while he talks down the phone in a tone too loud for the crowded room. kimi, on the other hand, sits on the couch on the other side, having waved off all of the people trying to smear yet another cream on his face.

“are you just going to be haunting me all season?” george said as he hung up the phone. glaring at y/n through the mirror.

“if i’m haunting you, does that mean you did something wrong?” y/n gasps, “am i the skeleton in your closet, georgie?”

the mercedes personnel in the green room were still, almost waiting for it to hit boiling point and all spill over. george and y/n stared each other down, waiting for someone to make the next move. george steadily looked y/n up and down, not being subtle at all. y/n raised her eyebrow at the brit.

“i could get used to you in my colours,” george said with a smirk.

“bore off russell, i don’t wear anything for you. these will be seen as kimi’s colours before you know it.”

a knock on the door signalled the start of the show. george stood up and took off his robe, revealing the new mercedes racesuit for the season. the brit made his way to the door but before he left, he turned to y/n and said, “don’t get too comfortable, i have my eye on you”

“oh georgie, you always have,” y/n flirted before schooling her face, “and how has that worked out for you?”

the brit pointed to his racesuit, “better than it has for you.”

that was a low blow, but y/n was prepared to play it that way if that was the game for the season. george looked at her again, as if to challenge her, but y/n stayed silent though her stare was unwavering. she had said a lot worse about herself to herself after the crash.

with that george turned and left, calling out to alex down the corridor.

“i really don’t understand him,” kimi said, “it was only like a week or two ago he was cussing you out in monaco, then today he checks you out but then threatens you like two seconds later?”

“first lesson of the year, kimi. do not trust a word that man says to you.”

the pair linked arms and made their way out of the green room. there was a gaggle of drivers at the end of the corridor, all decked out in their racesuits except the ferrari boys who were in normal suits. the group fell silent as they all turned to see the new arrivals.

“i didn’t know it was bring your mum to work day?” alex called out as they neared the group, smiling as he came to hug her.

a french-accented voice hollered a ‘milf’ from the back of the group, y/n suspected it was pierre, but paid no mind. an offended squeak followed as y/n looked up to see max delivering a slap to the back of his head.

“i’m just dropping him off, i gotta get to my seat before i’m roped into an interview. i had to sneak in this afternoon, i swear sky sports are like stalking me!”

the group watched along as y/n leaned in to whisper into kimi’s ear, “remember what i told you. smile, be likeable and tell jokes. these people are underestimating you, let them. we’ll do our real talking in the car. good luck and try and have some fun.”

the pair did their ‘handshake’, which really was just a pinky promise, and broke apart. y/n looks back at the group one more time, smiles at max and takes her leave. just a couple paces down the corridor, a voice called out her name.

“y/n, hey!” lewis called, catching up to her quickly, “i didn’t think i’d see you back here tonight.”

“i wasn’t planning on it, to be fair. kimi is technically an adult now, but i still didn’t want to leave him on his own here of all places.”

lewis laughed as the pair looked back at the group. kimi had nestled himself next to ollie, quietly talking to each other with esteban looking over both of them. y/n caught the gaze of esteban and the frenchman gave her a quick nod before inserting himself into the conversation. the height difference between kimi and esteban was comical, but y/n was happy knowing esteban would look out for him in places she couldn’t be.

“i didn’t think you would like the whole mentor role, being so young and everything, but you seem to be doing a good job.”

“thank you lewis, but honestly he makes it very easy,” y/n looked at the group again with a fond look on her face.

lewis brought his hand to her face and made her look at him, “i thought i’d never see that look on your face again.”

y/n looked down and blushed, shaking lewis’ hand off. “i am happy. a lot happier than i expected to be, anyway.”

“i’m happy that you’re happy. i’m happy you’re back, i won’t keep my distance this time, even if you’re in the home of the enemy now.”

y/n laughed, “well i thought it was bad going back to your ex, and look at me now. so maybe they’re not as much as an enemy as you think.”

an announcement from further down the corridor cute the conversation there, lewis tries not to look bothered, but y/n can still tell.

“looks like you’re needed elsewhere, superstar,” y/n said with a wink, “try not to let charles outshine you too much.”

“he wishes.”

y/n watched him walk away and was confused. lewis had never expressed interest in her before, platonic or romantic. even when she was a young rookie with stars in her eyes, she was never on his radar. was she now? the visit in london had been weird and the way his eyes had been fixed on her since she arrived today was even weirder.

y/n didn’t really have the time to be grappling with that struggle today, not with everything else going on. the audience seemed like enough distance between her and lando, but after monaco, there was no real knowing what could happen. george was just as confusing as his compatriot, with harsh words but also a glimmer of something else too.

she needed a glass of champagne pronto.

max watched the interaction between y/n and lewis like a hawk, so focused that he didn’t realise that he had formed quite an audience. nico hulkenberg, kimi, ollie and esteban watched him try and conceal his feelings, but his face showed every thought.

“you want to make it any more obvious that you’re jealous?” nico said, nudging max to break him out of his daze.

“i’m not jealous, i just wonder what they actually have to talk about…”

“you’re not jealous you say? you didn’t even glare at him this much during 2021.” esteban chimed in.

max furrowed his brows and forced himself to look away. he already felt guilty for harbouring these feelings for y/n and now he’s faced with a curious look from kimi, making him feel even worse. he did not want to make the same mistake as lando and george had in the past. he meant it when he said he just wanted to exist with her.

“kimi, how would you feel about having max as your dad?” ollie said, hiding slightly behind esteban.

“he’s very good with the cats?”

“thanks, that’s such a glowing recommendation, kimi, thanks!”

kimi held up his hands in surrender but max couldn’t be angry at the italian - plus he did take very good care of his cats and brando. in fact, he had nearly thrown his back out, much to red bull’s chagrin, building a new cat tower so brando could watch the birds from his preferred spot. the cat had settled in well in his place in monaco while y/n had been staying, the dutchman didn’t want to think too much about what it could mean, but it was on his mind.

“i just mean i caught you googling how to make sure your cat is getting enough vitamin d because you were worried about how cloudy it’s been in monaco?”

kimi tried to backpedal, but his anecdote was overheard by more drivers, bringing them into the conversation.

“are you being for real? vitamins are just pseudoscience dude,” pierre said but isack popped his head into the circle to say, “vitamins are real? and vitamin d deficiency is actually a really huge problem.”

“thank you isack!”

“as if i’m taking health advice from a rookie,” pierre laughed. yuki took his turn to pipe up next, “i saw you eat a whole jar of peanut butter in one sitting last winter break? what do you know about health?”

“why is it gang up on pierre hour? why aren’t we focusing on the real issue here? like how pathetic max is about y/n?”

max sputtered as even more drivers joined the conversation.

“i am not pathetic. brando is practically my son. kimi back me up, doesn’t he love me?”

“he does -” kimi started defending max before charles butted in with a: “calling for help from the other son? we see how it is verstappen.”

this was a losing battle. max just hoped it stayed this light hearted but he saw lando and george approaching the group.

“max is not my dad, but i wouldn’t mind. he drove all the way to nice to pick up my parcel because i didn’t understand monaco postal charges!”

poor kimi was trying to help, but he was just making it inadvertently worse.

“this is making your pseudoadoption last year look like child’s play, oscar,” alex said, earning him a whack from charles.

“kimi is not my son, but that doesn’t mean i won’t look out for him. this is a horrible place to come when you’re already disliked. some people, not naming names, have made it clear they have a problem with him and y/n, so it’s simply my moral duty to look out for him.”

the group quietened down, looking amongst each other.

“why am i so out of the loop, who is bullying this literal child?” nico said, pulling kimi into his chest, the italian letting out a squeak as the german petted him. “so? do tell.”

for two people who were very eager to call y/n and kimi every name under the sun just a week ago, they were very silent in that moment.

“oh! we’re talking about the lovely cocktail party i threw that was ruined by lando and george!” charles blurted out, he grabbed fernando’s hand, “it was so nice, i even brought olives, but they came in spouting all this shit about y/n and kimi and seduction and older women?”

both brits scratched the backs of their necks. the cocktail party drama was not a good move from them, especially so close to the start of the season.

“it wasn’t quite like that?” george hurried out.

“you accused y/n of trying to sleep with me?” oscar said.

“you said that i was going the max verstappen route of getting with an older ‘problematic’ woman?” kimi added from nico’s side.

“you also kinda implicated yourself in y/n’s crash?” alex heaped on for good measure.

“alex!?” george and lando shouted, “whose side are you meant to be on?”

“i’m not on a “side” because i’m not fucking five, but i will point out hypocrisy and stupidity and that’s both of you. come on, it’s 2025 and you guys are still stuck in like 2017.”

“right, i feel really stupid because what the fuck are you people talking about and why wasn’t i invited to this party?” fernando said, a confused look on his face.

“lando and george are still hung up on y/n years later even though she never actually expressed interest in them, max has the best odds on actually sealing the deal and i don’t know, kimi is getting shit because he brought her back and none of them can actually regulate their emotions!” charles said, exasperated, “keep up grandpa, you’ve been here the whole time!”

“i do not have the ‘best odds’ because y/n isn’t a horse, you don’t bet on women?” max bit back.

“actually i bet on women all the time,” yuki said but when he saw how the group were looking at him he added, “ufc, duh!”

even as they were herded towards the backstage, the group continued bickering like children.

“all i’m saying is that your crush is super obvious and you need to be careful! y/n will know and will use it against you, just look at what happened with me and george!” lando hissed at max.

the dutchman glared at the brit, this really had gone too far. “can you like actually give me an example of where she ‘led you on’ i am genuinely curious,” max snipped, “quickly.”

lando immediately looked at the floor and bit his lip. max began tapping his foot with an impatient look.

“well she would be super flirty with me in the videos the team would make us film?” lando didn’t sound convinced, and max didn’t buy a single second of it.

“if that’s what you think flirting is i feel sorry for all of your ex girlfriends, you must be a horrible boyfriend - ouch!” charles was cut off by a shove from george.

“stay out of this charles!”

“i won’t stay out of this, y/n is actually a friend of mine. yeah that’s right she doesn’t hate me because i don’t assume that any girl who is fractionally nice to me is in love with me.”

“lando you basically tortured that girl her entire formula one career, do you need to do it now as well?” max said, “i think this season will be a lot easier for you if you drop this now.”

“is that a threat?”

“it’s a promise.”

all the bickering surrounding the pair ceased, tension rising in the air. the call for the mclaren boys drew lando out of his stare down with max. the brit joined oscar at the front of the queue and painted on his PR smile.

y/n had found her way to her seat, flanked by natalie pinkham on one side and jenson button on the other. there goes her plans for a quiet evening.

“so the rumours are true,” jenson said before jumping up to give her a hug, “i’ve missed you, rocky”

y/n flushed at the nickname. since her first ever race in formula one, jenson had crowned her his ‘pocket rocket’ which had eventually been worn down to just rocky. she hadn’t heard it in so long, jenson’s appearances being relegated to messages via sara or flowers that only gave away his identity with the use of rocky.

“did sky set up this seating arrangement? are you going to ambush me for an interview?”

“i can’t believe you’d think so low of me,” jenson clutched at his imaginary pearls, “and as if you can say no to me anyway.”

the pair took their seats as the show started. natalie handed her a glass of champagne and whispered in her ear, “you might need this.” well that doesn’t bode well.

the two mclaren drivers made their way out onto stage, joined by zak and andrea. y/n leaned into jenson, “i don’t understand why he insists on being everywhere, have we not suffered enough?”

jenson tried to stifle his laugh, “are you sure you don’t want to work in commentary?”

“i think it’s best i keep my opinion on these men to myself.”

the mclaren spiel followed the closely the same scripts they used when y/n still raced for them, though a healthy dose of constructors champions boasting had been added. a second questionable decision from formula one reared it’s head when nico rosberg asked his first unscripted question:

“so boys, how do you feel about the return of former mclaren driver y/n y/ln to the paddock? excited to see her?”

y/n swore she could see lando’s eye twitch from her front row seat. there was an awkward pause and y/n could feel the rest of the audience tense. even though the general public didn’t know the ins and outs of the fall out, there was definitely rising suspicion.

nico found y/n in the audience and gave her such a shit-eating grin that she almost didn’t care about the situation he just put her in.

“we’re of course over the moon to see her back in the paddock. i know i’ve harboured a lot of guilt as to how i ended up with my seat, so i’m happy that y/n can see me in action and hopefully i can continue to make her proud!” oscar said with a genuine smile, the only convincing one from the men clad in orange.

“continue to?” nico asked, “have you had confirmation of this?”

y/n’s eyes snapped to oscar who despite receiving glares from his boss, continued on.

“we spoke at charles’ cocktail party. i’ve always been a fan of hers and it was great to finally set the record straight. she was a lot more graceful than i would’ve been in her position. to be honest i was a bit of a weepy mess, but she was very supportive. i’m only slightly jealous of kimi…”

“very nice. did you get any insight on her opinion on hungary?” nico pushed, only to be cut off by zak.

“if you so desperately want her opinion on everything, you can wait until you’re on sky’s dime. this is a car launch, no? we’re confident in our car for this season and intend on winning both championships. and do you know how we’re going to do that? with the two drivers on stage right now, not one who was a flash in the pan four years ago.”

you could hear a pin drop in the venue. even lando had a shocked look on his face as he and oscar exchanged a look.

“that’s fighting talk from the man who ended her career, but what do i know?” nico said sharply but then turned to the audience, “ladies and gentlemen, mclaren!”

there was tentative applause from crowd and when y/n and oscar made eye contact she gave him a small smile. this was only the first team…

nico looked for y/n in the front row and gave her a thumbs up to which she shook her head violently. jenson burst out laughing, “well, i don’t think we’ll be having this as the car launch format again.”

“i don’t know about you but i’m throughly entertained,” natalie said, “if nico was like that with mclaren, i can’t wait for ferrari!”

the next few teams were decidedly less dramatic. y/n could see kimi and george lining up next to come on stage and she hoped the italian remembered her advice.

george walked on stage with confident strides, followed by toto and finally kimi. the italian looked out at the audience, squinting from the harsh lights but calming his features when he saw y/n. she gave him a thumbs up and got a smile in return.

“you’re loving this mum role aren’t you?” jenson said.

“you’re making me feel old, stop. but yes i would kill myself if anything happened to him, so i guess so.”

back on stage, nico had started his interview. first toto was being grilled about the hopes for the season and how life at mercedes would be without lewis hamilton. the german was clearly trying to bait his former boss into giving him a juicy soundbite.

“kimi, let’s come to you now. you’re first season in formula one and you’ve already brought in the big guns? y/n y/ln as your mentor, that’s a big statement.”

kimi looked startled and his eyes snapped to meet y/n’s. she nodded to him, urging him to answer.

“why wouldn’t i want a legend of the sport like her as my mentor? she still knows what she’s doing, and if it ruffles some feathers in the paddock at the same time, what’s the harm?”

she was so proud of her protégé. jenson choked on his champagne at kimi’s answer, “kids got balls.”

“well, well, well. you’re not beating around the bush are you? but do tell me, kimi, what’s so special about you that y/n would come out of retirement?”

“i’ll save that answer for australia, nico,” kimi said, surprised by the laughs from the audience, “but maybe i’ve just got a charm the rest of the grid doesn’t?”

“holy shit,” natalie said, “was this the strategy, y/n?”

“i told him to make them like him? are you not entertained?”

nico, for once, was speechless on stage. george huffed next to toto, waiting for his turn to talk. the german clocked onto this and a devilish smile broke out on his face.

“so george, you and y/n grew up together… do you not have charm? as far as we can tell, you haven’t spoken to y/n in years?”

y/n’s mouth dropped open. jenson was right, there’s no way this format, at least with nico hosting, was ever happening again.

“i have more than enough charm, thank you nico. are you going to ask us anymore questions about the season or is it all just tabloid questions from you tonight?”

“tabloid?! well, now that makes me think you’ve got something to hide… but as for your 2025 season, are you afraid that you might lose to an 18-year-old rookie?”

george sputtered in response, “i have no fear of losing, i just beat a seven time world champion, a rookie, no offence, has no bearing on my season.”

“that’s a big claim, george. you better hope you stick to it. it’ll be your sixth season in formula one, do you think you’ll finally be able to claim the number one driver role?”

george’s face was getting redder and redder as he tried to remain calm. he made eye contact with y/n briefly, giving her the subtlest glare he could.

“i think i made a very good case for myself for the last two seasons and toto has faith in me to lead this team back to where they should be.”

nico had a wolfish grin on his face, he was enjoying this psychological torture a little too much.

“you don’t think toto has more faith in kimi, a driver he allowed to skip an entire step on the junior ladder and is giving his formula one debut at just 18? and straight into a mercedes rather than say… a williams?”

george’s shiny mask was starting to slip. this was meant to be a fun event for fans but had descended into a nico rosberg masterclass of making everyone suffer - and for once y/n was enjoying it.

“classy as always, nico,” george said.

“it’s what i do best,” nico laughed to himself, “back to you kimi, are you intimidated at all by your senior teammate? do you think you can make a case for yourself as the number one driver?”

the italian paused for a moment, thinking to y/n’s advice - he needed people to like him.

“i’m more than happy to play a team game to bring mercedes back to the top,” he smiled to toto, “but make no mistake i’m here to win and i won’t just step aside without good reason.”

“well, this is a duo i’ll be watching closely this season. mercedes!”

the trio shuffled off of stage and y/n let out a sigh of relief, she could throw back as much champagne as she wanted now.

another couple of teams made their way past nico’s questioning, but as nico hulkenberg and gabriel bortoleto made their way off of the stage the audience held their breath. next was ferrari.

charles, lewis and fred vasseur made their way on stage, and as has become classic fashion, lewis situated himself as far from nico as possible.

“welcome, welcome. a different line up this year and much to think about, do you think you can finally bring the championship back to italy?”

fred started on what was likely a pre-written script and y/n tuned out for a second. the ferrari boys looked nothing short of glamorous in their tailored black suits with the yellow of the ferrari logo popping on the left breast. both men looked assured, no nerves, just pure confidence - the type of confidence that draws you to a person.

y/n caught lewis’ eye and he gave her a quick wink, something that did not go unnoticed by jenson beside her.

“what was that all about, rocky?” jenson whispered. y/n kept looking forward, ignoring jenson’s stare burning into the side of her head. the brit kept poking her, “i’m not going to stop until you answer me!”

y/n batted his hand away, “i don’t know what you’re talking about old man, leave me alone!”

“i saw that, hell, the whole place saw that! you are aware that is a man 14 years your senior!”

y/n downed her champagne and whispered to jenson, “listen, i don’t know what the fuck is happening! he came to my apartment and he’s being really nice? i don’t know?!”

jenson looked between the two and grabbed his own champagne. “i was teammates with that guy! you might be a grown up now but he’s really old!”

y/n slapped a hand over her mouth to stop her laughing out loud. jenson did have a point. was lewis actually flirting with her or was he just being nice? was she falling into the same headspace that lando and george were in with her?

“i am not going to get with lewis, jens. he’s just being nice, that’s all. now shut up i want to see if nico makes the brocedes breakup all of our problem.”

nico had finished his interrogation of charles and set his sights on his former teammate. y/n grabbed jenson’s hand in anticipation.

“so lewis, new team, new you? how do you feel coming into a team where charles has dominated for the last five years?”

lewis gives nico a forced smile, “i am excited for the challenge. there’s a lot of changes coming into this season, people leaving and new faces. it’s best to face a challenge head on rather than running.”

“you didn’t run from mercedes? you didn’t want to stick it out and retire with the team that gave you so much success?”

“you’d know all about running wouldn’t you nico?”

y/n dropped her glass of champagne and the rest of the audience gasped but nico did not look phased at all.

“i am happy with my decision, time will tell if you’ll be happy with yours. charles dealt with sebastian, don’t think he’ll roll over for you.”

charles looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but on stage and fred’s face would tell you he’s at the gallows rather than a car launch.

“was in your brief today to make the vibes in here as rancid as possible? as i said i am excited for the season ahead and nothing you can say today will change that.”

lewis took the lead and left the stage, leaving nico alone with a pleased look on his face. the german found y/n’s gaze again and wiggled his eyebrows. if there was ever a man you need to take the heat off of you, he was the one.

there was one final team to go and this entire nightmare of a night would be over. the final team was none other than red bull - nothing could possibly go wrong here could they?

christian, like the other team principals, started with a long-winded spiel that said a whole lot of nothing. y/n smiled widely when she caught max’s eye and he responded with an eye roll directed at christian’s rambling. the dutchman, for a second, had forgotten he was in fact on stage in front of thousands. the pair stare at each other and bite their lips to keep the laughs in.

jenson leaned in again, “not to keep questioning you, but what is happening here? and don’t lie, i know he’s the only one you kept in contact with and who you have been staying with in monaco.”

“it’s nothing! it’s something? i don’t know what it is? we’re just existing together. i think romance in the paddock is the worst thing for me right now. i need to be fully focused on kimi.”

“first of all - we’re exisiting together? that’s so fucking gross. and two - you’re still allowed to have fun?” jenson wiggled his eyebrows.

“not everyone can be the playboy of formula one, stud.”

“true. i’m not sure you have the devilishly good looks to be a playboy - hey”

y/n snatched his glass of champagne and turned back towards the stage just as max took to the microphone.

“so max, do you think there’s a chance of a fifth title in a row?”

max laughed in his signature way, “here i thought you’d gotten all of your aggression out with lewis. we’ll have to see how we line up against the other teams, but you always have to believe you can win every single race, so that’s what i’ll continue to do.”

a quick glance from nico told y/n that her peaceful night hadn’t started just yet.

“you’ll finally have your best friend back in the paddock, are you still excited even though she’ll be in mercedes uniform?”

“i think toto has another thing coming if he thinks she’ll be wearing that ugly uniform,” max said, “but it makes no difference to me what garage y/n is in, we’re like magnets, you can’t keep us a part for long.”

nico hummed, “is that why you were the only one she kept in contact with after the crash?”

“yes? it’s mostly because we’re best friends but also because i’m a decent human being.”

oh fuck.

“how do you mean, max?”

christian tried to butt in, “i don’t think we need to go into that here.”

“oh i’m more than happy to, and nico has been stirring all night, what’s just a little more to add to the pot?”

you could almost hear the audience shuffling to the edge of their seats and for the first time that evening, y/n felt some of the cameras on her. she gave them a small wave and hoped they would pan back to the actual action.

“all i’m saying is that there are a lot of victim complexes in the paddock, it’s full of people who would rather say ‘i don’t know why she doesn’t talk to me?’ rather than do some actual introspection. y/n will talk to you if you’re not an asshole, just as kimi.”

“so you’re saying there’s a truth to the rumours?”

“which rumours? you know, since your employers like to report on so many?”

nico chuckled, “well, the rumours that perhaps the brits in the paddock didn’t get on as well as we were led to believe?”

max smiled, “well, that’s not my story to tell, but i’ve found that if you ask them, they’re more than happy to give you the scoop.”

for a moment, y/n’s heart stopped, fearing that nico would take this as the chance to bring her into the fray. max seemed to sense this as well and added, “but as for me, i’m just happy she’s back in any capacity. i’ve missed my partner in crime.”

“have you spoken about formula one in her break at all? you won all four of your titles in that time?”

“i know she watched it, but we haven’t spoken about it. i respected her boundaries at the time, but i knew she was watching based on some suspiciously timed texts.”

nico laughed, “i’m not sure we can ever stay away from this sport for long.”

“i’m glad that is the case,” max said, more to himself than anyone else.

the red bull boys were ushered off of the stage as nico delivered his closing remarks and announced the musical guests.

“he’s glad that’s the case? oh he’s in deep,” jenson gasped, “you can’t tell me that’s nothing, i rebuke it right this second.”

y/n sighed, standing and heading to the backstage bar. “i really don’t want to think about it jenson.”

“but you’re staying at his house, he’s building shit for your cat and gushing about you on stage!”

“i am well aware, but i don’t really know what you want me to do about that?”

“i want you to get your man and let him treat you how you’re supposed to be!”

y/n picked up another glass of champagne, talking the biggest sip before replying to jenson.

“you’re just as bad as the girls on twitter sometimes.”

kimi bursts through the doors, back in his comfy clothes, and rushes over to y/n. she wraps the italian into a hug.

“i’m so proud of you!”

kimi blushes, rocking back and forth on his feet, “thank you, y/n! i’m so glad we’ve got this out of the way i’m ready to race now!”

jenson laughed along side them, “an eager one, this one. i remember when i had that much energy.”

the rest of the drivers flooded into the room, grabbing drinks or just taking a seat. max, much like kimi, made his way straight to y/n, also pulling her into his chest. he whispered in her ear, “i’m sorry i got carried away talking about you, i just can’t help myself.”

y/n can’t help but feel the butterflies in her stomach at the confession. she was really trying to keep her feelings out of her return to formula one, but seeing max like this was putting a real spanner in the works. the dutchman’s protective nature along side his intense respect for her made her feel special for the first time since the crash.

“i take no offence, maxy. i’ll never say no to a compliment, especially from you.”

the group moves away from the bar and as they settle into their seats backstage, max’s arm wraps around her waist. y/n knew she shouldn’t do it, not here in front of everyone but that’s what her heart wanted. the first few weeks into her return and all the drama was wearing on her and they hadn’t even made it to the paddock yet. she snuggled into max’s side, letting the dutchman brush her hair out of her face.

“y/n?” kimi said from the other side of her, “i’m really happy you’re here, and i hope you’ll let yourself have this,” kimi motioned to max, who was deep in conversation with jenson.

“don’t you worry about that, kimi.”

“you’ve punished yourself for years, please don’t keep telling yourself that you’re not allowed this. also don’t wait up for me, i’m going to crash at ollie’s”

kimi said as his departing gift as he went to catch up with ollie and watch some of the music. y/n let herself relax back into max’s hold and her eyes close, all of the pent up stress of the evening rushing out.

“are we really that boring?” jenson asked.

“do you want to get out of here, y/n?” max asked, when y/n flopped further onto him, he took that as his answer.

grabbing her bag, max took y/n’s hand in his and pulled her from the seat. the pair exchanged hugs with jenson and made a quiet exit from backstage. they tried to be as subtle as possible, but nothing is ever secret in formula one.

jenson slid in beside lewis at the bar.

“you want to tell me what your plan is with her?”

lewis looked at his former teammate in confusion.

“i saw that wink and i know you were flirting with her when you went to her apartment. what’s the plan, you’re 14 years older than her?”

“i don’t have a plan? i felt bad about how i was when she was in formula one, i’m just trying to make her feel welcome again.”

“and winking at her at a televised event is definitely going to help?”

lewis scoffed, “i don’t really like what you’re implying.”

“i’m implying that you need to watch your step, seriously. the vultures are just waiting for her to make one wrong step, don’t give them an excuse to call her a gold digger or anything along those lines.”

“and what if i said i did like her?”

“i’d ask you if you actually know her? you didn’t speak to her after the crash, you didn’t speak to her when she was in the sport so i’m confused to where this would have come from?”

“you can drop the dad act jenson, i’m just being friendly. it looks like max got in there first anyway.”

jenson hummed, “not everything is a competition.”

y/n and max climbed into max’s hire car for the weekend and finally let themselves breathe.

“that was a lot,” y/n said, slipping off her heels, “nico really was out for blood.”

“i found it entertaining, but that usually is a death wish for anything in formula one.”

the pair laughed, and as max turned the ignition, y/n’s taylor swift playlist crackled into life.

“are you heading back to your hotel or do you want to crash at mine?” y/n asked as she put her address into the gps, despite max knowing nearly every route across london to her apartment.

“a chance to avoid team duties for as long as possible? count me in!”

“so you don’t want to spend more time with me? just want to avoid your team?”

max placed his hand on her thigh, “you know i always want to spend more time with you.”

the streets were relatively clear at this time with the event still in swing. max weaved through traffic as they entered west london. the dutchman nestled his car in y/n’s spot for her pink cadillac that was still in monaco. y/n started to fiddle with her heels to put them back on, but max stopped her.

he walked round to her side of the car and picked up her up bridal style. y/n giggled and wrapped her arms around max’s neck. the pair made their way up to her apartment as fast as possible, but made sure to say hi to frank who not so subtlety gave y/n a thumbs up and a wink.

the apartment was quiet without the meows of brando who was also back in monaco with jimmy and sassy. max stopped in the kitchen to pour two glasses of water but y/n went ahead to the bathroom to wash off the grime of the event.

she slipped into bed dressed in her pjamas that consisted of some old gym shorts and one of max’s toro rosso shirts. the dutchman knocked on her door.

“come in, maxy.”

max made his way into the room, placing the glass of water on her beside table. he sat on the edge of the bed, “good night, try not to dream of me too much.” the dutchman leaned down to give her a kiss on the forehead before moving back towards the door.

“max?”

“yes?”

“will you stay with me?”

“always.”

max got under the covers and tentatively reached out to her. sensing the apprehension, y/n turned over and tucked herself under max’s chin. his arms snuck around her waist and for the first time in three years, y/n finally slept peacefully without the images of her crash.

fin.

note: sorry this took so long, i've been a bit of a writing rut but i'm back!

taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998 @xsilkesworld @justaf1girl @daddyslittlevillain @evans-dejong @abq654 @elizamoe133 @wierdflowerpower @t1nkerbel1 @okcurran @raizelchrysanderoctavius @skepvids @multilovebot @fernandoalonso14 @jules-kup-172 @m4xgirlie @rorabelle15 @minkyungseokie @formula1-motogpfan @peterholland04 @miureiz @freyathehuntress @lighttsoutlewis @aleatorio1234 @chaosandevelyn@blueberry648579@dog-and-cat-person230@fastandcurious16@obxstiles@cosmicwintr@becca388510@savagittariuspy@tibadi @thisbitxhs-blog @finn-dot-com @scenesofobx @moofilms @alilstressyandlotdepressy @nana-love-bugzzz @mayax2o07 @obsessed-fan-alert @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @jajouska @poppysrin @mimimarvelingmarvel @jiyumie @heeseungthel0ml 

[lizziesangel]

heyyy, could you do a one shot of rafe x high maintenance!kook!reader, about her expensive skinncare routine and rafe is just so in love of how well she takes cares of herself but at the same time like "90 dollars of this shit????" and reader is just "yeah😁 it has collagen, you should try it"

absolutely love this!!

the night had been perfect—rafe made sure of it. dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town, with white tablecloths and a wine list so long it came in a leather-bound book. he didn’t even blink at the check, sliding his card over with the confidence of someone who did this all the time. the drive home was just as good, you sitting in the passenger seat, admiring your new nails under the streetlights, the soft hum of the radio in the background.

“seriously, rafe, aren’t they gorgeous?” you asked, holding your hand up to catch the faint glow of the dashboard lights. “look at the shine. and the shape? absolutely perfect. they even feel sturdier this time, like they’re not going to chip in two weeks.”

he glanced over briefly, his lips tugging into a lazy smile. “yeah, they look good. but you’ve said that, like, twenty times already.”

“and i’ll say it twenty times more, you’re the one who paid for them,” you pointed out, inspecting them again. “you should be happy i’m obsessed with them.”

“oh, i’m happy,” he said, turning into the driveway. “just wondering if i’m gonna hear about them all week.”

“probably,” you teased, stepping out of the car.

the conversation didn’t stop there. even as you followed him upstairs, you were still gushing.

“seriously, though, rafe. i think this might be my favorite set ever. they’re just so clean and classy.”

“yeah, they’re nice,” he said, pulling his shirt off as he walked into the bedroom. “good thing you didn’t go with that neon pink idea you showed me.”

“it was bubblegum pink, and it was cute!” you argued, crossing your arms.

“sure, babe,” he said with a smirk, falling onto the bed. “bubblegum pink’s cute.”

rolling your eyes, you walked over to the mirror, sighing at your reflection. “ugh, i have to take my makeup off first.”

rafe propped himself up on one elbow, watching you. “can’t you just… skip it?”

you turned to him, horrified. “skip it? baby, do you know what that would do to my skin?”

“no, but i’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” he teased, flopping onto the bed and pulling the blanket up.

you ignored him, grabbing your skincare bag and heading to the bathroom. after what felt like forever, you finally emerged, your face clean of makeup, wearing your silk robe.

rafe was lying in bed, one arm behind his head, watching you with a mixture of impatience and amusement.

“you know what we should get?” you asked, your tone casual.

he raised an eyebrow. “what?”

“a vanity.”

rafe blinked at you. “a what?”

“a vanity,” you repeated, walking over to sit cross-legged on the bed.

“why would we need a vanity?”

“so i can do my makeup and skincare in the bedroom instead of going to the bathroom every time,” you explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

rafe gestured vaguely toward the open bathroom door. “the bathroom’s literally right there.”

you rolled your eyes, scooting closer to him. “yeah, but i’d rather be in here with you.”

he groaned, but there was no missing the fondness in his voice when he said, “you’re unbelievable.”

“and you love me for it,” you said with a grin.

he chuckled softly, pulling you closer for a quick kiss before turning back to his phone. shaking your head with a smile, you stood and padded back to the bathroom, ready to start your skincare routine.

as you began massaging a cleanser onto your face, you heard footsteps behind you. glancing in the mirror, you saw rafe leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, watching you.

“what are you doing?” you asked, surprised but pleased.

“figured i’d see what all the hype’s about,” he said, smirking.

you laughed, turning back to the sink. “all right, pay attention.”

he stayed quiet, watching as you worked.

“first step,” you began, holding up the bottle. “oil-based cleanser. this gets rid of all the makeup and sunscreen.”

“so that’s why your face looks all shiny now?”

“exactly,” you said, rinsing it off. “next step: water-based cleanser. it makes sure everything’s actually gone.”

“seems like overkill,” he muttered, but his eyes stayed on you as you lathered up the second cleanser.

“it’s not,” you insisted, rinsing and patting your face dry with a towel. “now, toner. it balances your skin’s pH and preps it for the rest of the products.”

“you’re making this up,” he said, shaking his head.

“i’m not,” you said with a laugh, grabbing a small bottle. “next is serum. this one’s hydrating—it has hyaluronic acid.”

“whatever that is,” he said, leaning in a little closer.

“it’s amazing,” you said, patting the serum into your skin. “then comes eye cream. dab it under your eyes to keep them hydrated.”

“you have young skin,” he pointed out. “why do you need all this anti-aging stuff?”

“prevention is key,” you said simply, dabbing the cream under your eyes. “next, lip mask. it keeps your lips soft overnight.”

“lip mask?”

“yes, rafe. just trust me.”

he chuckled, watching as you smoothed the mask over your lips. “what’s next?”

“retinol,” you said, holding up a small tube. “but i only use it once a month.”

“why bother, then?”

“because it’s good to start early!” you said, smoothing a tiny amount over your skin.

rafe stayed quiet for a moment, watching as you worked through your routine. his curiosity got the better of him again when you reached for a fancy-looking gold jar.

“how much was that one?” he asked casually.

you hesitated. “uh… ninety, i think?”

“ninety dollars?” his voice shot up an octave as he grabbed the jar to inspect it.

“yes, rafe,” you said, snatching it back. “it’s a luxury brand. it has collagen.”

he gestured at the counter, which was full of bottles and jars from estée lauder, clinique, and clarins. “so how much is all of this combined?”

you shrugged, applying the last of your products. “a couple hundred, maybe?”

“holy shit,” rafe muttered, running a hand through his hair.

you grinned, turning to face him. “what? you like how soft my skin is, don’t you?”

rafe gestured at the counter, which was covered in products from estée lauder, clinique, and clarins. “so… who pays for all this?”

“i do,” you said, capping the jar of moisturizer.

rafe stared at you, incredulous. “no, you’re lying.”

“i swear!”

“no,” he said firmly, crossing his arms. “i’ll pay for it.”

“rafe, you can’t pay for everything,” you argued, rolling your eyes.

he shook his head. “i can, and i will. no way you’re spending this much on—” he gestured vaguely at the counter—“this… whole collection.”

you raised an eyebrow at him. “i budget for it.”

rafe stared at you for a moment, then leaned against the counter with a smirk. “okay, new plan. i’m paying for it from now on.”

“rafe, you can’t just—”

“i can, and i will,” he interrupted, his tone firm but playful.

“you’re not paying for everything,” you argued, narrowing your eyes at him.

he leaned in, his smirk softening into something gentler. “you’re right. i’m not paying for everything. just the stuff that makes you happy. and this”—he waved his hand at your collection of bottles and jars—“obviously does.”

you felt your cheeks heat up, but you rolled your eyes to cover it. “fine, but i’m not letting you pay for all of it. maybe just the retinol.”

“deal,” he said, pulling you into his arms. “but i’m serious. next time, just send me the bill.”

you laughed, resting your head against his chest. “you’re ridiculous.”

“yeah,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “but you love me for it.”

“unfortunately,” you teased, earning a chuckle as he pulled you back toward the bedroom.

MASTERLIST

CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚｡⋆

@maybankslover ⟢ @honeyluvsatj ⟢ @zazidot ⟢ @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 ⟢ @lunaleah ⟢ @maybanksangel ⟢ @wtfdudesblog. ⟢ @niktwazny303. ⟢ @outerbanksloverp4l ⟢ @slut4you ⟢ @maybanksgirl69

[eroticnekoisa]

Beginner Yoga Class

M!Reader x Aespa Karina

Around 2,750 words

tags: sex, blowjob, titfuck, cumshot, reader has big dick, little bit of fluff, my first smut so don't judge me too harshly please

Recently, you decided to commit to a healthier lifestyle and to try new things. So you thought "Why not do both at once?" and began pondering what kind of activities you could do.

After pondering and searching for a few days, you ultimately decided to sign up for a yoga class. You haven't tried yoga before, plus, it would bring both the healthier lifestyle and new experience you desired. So why not?

When looking at the class options, you found a 1:1 class. Considering you have never done yoga before, you find it more appealing to be alone with the teacher. More focus on you and fewer people around to notice your mistakes, also leading to much less embarrassment from your cluelessness on the subject.

Just you and the teacher. No one else around.

You happily sign up and wait for the days to pass.

Entering the building, you instantly notice the atmosphere change. You proceed as you normally would, the receptionist greeting you before guiding you to your destination, it seems her nametag displays the name "Minjeong". As you enter the room, the receptionist let's you know that you can take one of the candies on her counter when you leave, as she returns to her place. How nice of her!

The kind receptionist shuts the door for you. You notice a dark haired woman standing next to a chair on the opposite side of the room, she appears to be fixing her hair in one of the mirrors on the wall. She doesn't seem to notice you. You approach her and greet her.

"Hello?"

startled by your voice, she quickly turns. "Oh! You're here for the class? You're early." Until now, you didn't notice that you are actually about 10 minutes early. I guess you didn't check the time.

"Sorry, I guess I didn't check the time."

"No, no. It's fine!" she says, "We can start early, just give me a minute. You can sit if you'd like" she offers with a kind smile on her face as she does something in the corner. You can't quite see what she's doing since her back is turned towards you.

You sat on the chair just as she suggested you do. You let her do what she's doing in peace, so you don't talk to her until she's ready. Your eyes wander around the room, eventually focusing on your yoga teacher. You admire her healthy looking hair, her pale skin…You begin to look at her clothing, wearing a fitted tank top, mildly baggy sweatpants, though not baggy enough to hide the curves of her hips and shape of her round ass.

You aren't looking at her with lust, just learning her features. Right? Your eyes seemed to have stopped caring about the room once you saw her ass. She turns around and smiles at you, raising one finger to tell you that she will only be one more minute! You quickly look at her face, hoping she didn't notice you staring at her ass.

She didn't notice anything when looking back at you. However, you did notice something. You noticed her large breasts held by her tank top. You couldn't help it, your thoughts were beginning to go exactly where they shouldn't. You began to think about what her body looks like underneath her clothes, how soft her skin would be, you even wondered what her pussy looks like for a few brief seconds. How dirty of you.

Your thoughts turned you on so much you could practically feel the blood rushing downward, you feel your cock getting harder, bigger, thicker. It's such a bad time to be turned on. You remain sitting in the chair (almost) successfully hiding the bulge in your pants.

"Okay. Can you move the chair now?" Karina says, with her back still turned toward you.

"Fuck." you thought. Just as you stand up, Karina turns around and drops a pen and her phone.

She gasps from seeing her phone separate from its case, she instantly bends over to pick up the items she dropped.

You can now see directly down her top, getting an almost complete view of her large, soft, breasts. Moving slightly as she moves her arms to gather the items she dropped.

Now standing up, you feel your cock firmly pressing against your pants. You can't possibly hide it now, especially considering your size. You hear Karina talking, but you don't seem to be listening. You just continue staring at her big tits, with endless sexual thoughts racing through your mind.

Smiling, Karina quickly stands up to finally get started with the class. She was excited to teach someone new.

"I'm sorry, I'm clumsy!" she says with a laugh, while looking at your face.

Just as you try to gain composure and act natural, she looks down at the chair beside you, but something else caught her attention.

"I really think I-I-" her jaw drops for a few seconds as she stares at the large bulge in your pants before realizing what she was doing, looking up to speak to you. "U-um-heh. Um. I'm sorry, I didn't-"

You turn your back to her, apologizing out of embarrassment. Though her directly looking at it turned you on even more.

"No, I'm sorry. Give me a minute, it's just-"

She interrupts you, saying "It's fine! It's totally fine!" trying to silence her awkward giggle. Now her thoughts were racing.

Awkward silence fills the room for what feels like forever. Karina looking at the floor, trying not to make you feel embarrassed. You don't notice, but she occasionally glances at you in the mirror, trying to get another look at your big cock print.

You hear her walking towards you, you feel a hand on your back and another hand on the side of your arm. She breaks the silence with her pretty voice and says,

"Can…….Can I see it..again?"

You feel so shocked to hear these words come from her mouth, you instantly turn around to look at her. Accidentally giving her exactly what she asked for. "What?!" you exclaim.

The second you face her, she looks directly at the bulge in your pants and covers her mouth in awe. Her eyes focusing on your cock made it twitch, bringing a very sexy looking smile to her face as she bites her lip.

She gets very close, putting one hand on your chest and the fingers of her other hand on the band of your sweatpants. Her face inches away from your own, her tits touching your chest as she leans in. She whispers,

"I want to see more. I….want..I want to touch it…"

You are completely lost and overwhelmed by the situation, you didn't believe it was actually happening. Karina was shy, but she was also very, very horny in this moment. She looked into your eyes, biting her lip even harder as she started gently tugging your pants downward.

You nod to give her permission. She smiles and puts both of her hands on your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear.

Your cock finally released, springing upwards. You feel your heart beating hard, just like your cock that Karina is staring at. She stares with a look of yearning on her face.

She slowly and gently grips the center of your cock with her small, soft, hand. The sight and feel of your cock turned her on so much, she couldn't stop there. She needed to stroke it, suck it, feel it deep inside her.

"Oh my god…it's so….big.." she said slowly, feeling how hard you are, she playfully asks "What got you so excited? Huh?" still holding your cock.

You smile and chuckle, not knowing what to say. She seems to have an idea, but she still wanted to tease you.

She begins stroking your cock, slowly pulling your foreskin back and forward, back and forward. The expression displayed on her gorgeous face clearly shows how aroused she is. It feels so good, you start to breath heavier. She likes the sound of that.

She lets go of your cock and with a devious look on her face, asks "Do you want to sit in the chair now?" hoping you understood what she was hinting at. You understood, but were in disbelief. You sat down in the chair, bringing her much joy.

She gets on her knees in front of you, putting her hands on each of your thighs. You don't believe what's happening, but that's okay. She doesn't mind.

You see Karina staring at your big, hard cock sticking straight up towards the ceiling. Now only inches away from her small, delicate face.

She grabs your cock, pressing it against her face and feeling how hard she made you. You both love the fact that your cock looks huge on her face, making both of you even hornier.

You feel her breath on your cock as she exhales with a soft moan, "Ahhh~"

She holds your cock still as she gives the tip a deep kiss, wetting her lips with your precum before she begins to open her mouth wide to take your sensitive tip in her mouth. You feel her wet, glossy lips sliding down your cock as it glides across her tongue.

You moan as she sucks and licks your cock, feeling her fingers start caressing and massaging your balls. She takes your cock deeper and deeper into her warm, wet mouth, sucking harder and harder. Feeling her saliva mixing with your precum, running down your cock from her lips. She tries to take it deep into her throat, but she can only handle the head entering her throat before she needs to stop.

She lifts her head up, looking at you while breathing heavily. Her lips and chin wet with your fluids. You feel frustrated, since you were right at the edge before she stopped all stimulation. But that's only because you didn't know what else she was planning in that pretty little head of hers.

Still on her knees, she smiles and slides her hands up your shirt, feeling your chest and stomach, brushing your nipples with her soft fingers. "How did my mouth feel?"

"Amazing…I can't believe this. We shouldn't-" you respond as she denies your logic.

"Shhh~ Babyy~" she says, "We have plenty of time, relax~" as she briefly stands up to give you a kiss before returning to her knees.

"I know what you want…" she teases as she removes her top, exposing her black bra. "Right?"

You respond with a "Yes…." and hear a cute yet sexy chuckle. She removes her bra, fully displaying her big, gorgeous tits you were peeping at earlier. Her nipples hard with excitement, as she caresses and softly squeezes her tits for you. Biting her lip at the pleasure and the sight of you.

She moans softly as she pinches her nipples, "And what about this?~"

She moves closer to you again, this time positioning your cock between her tits, pushing them together. She loves the feeling of her large tits surrounding your big cock, sliding up and down, making her swear.

"Fuck….is this what you wanted?" she asks, as if she wasn't the one to take your pants off.

"God…you're so pretty. It feels so good" you couldn't get any harder, the contrast of your hard cock and her soft tits turned you on even more.

Again, as you begin to feel like you'll cum any second, she stops touching you and stands up. Your cock begging for more as she ignores it, moving her body closer to your face. She puts her arms around your head, putting her beautiful tits in your face.

You begin to feel her breasts with your hands, squeezing, kneading, rubbing. She breathes in and out softly, yet heavily. She feels you begin to lick and suck on her sensitive nipples, bringing an involuntary moan out of her.

She continues to make lovely sounds as you play with her perfect tits, before putting her hand on your head and saying the following words

"St-stop….okay.."

You stop, thinking she has had enough and your luck ran out. She takes a moment before speaking again, as if her shyness returned.

"I need….I need more.."

She removes her pants completely, revealing her black panties.

"Please…….stand up.."

She couldn't take it anymore, she needed you to fuck her. She needed to feel your cock inside her pussy. She's been thinking about it since she first saw you.

You stand up as she removes her panties, you can't help but stare when you finally see her shaved pussy. It was a beautiful sight, even more beautiful than you imagined. You take a look at her panties that now lie on the floor, noticing the inside completely soaked with her fluids.

"Come on…" shyly encouraging you as she gets on the chair, her knees on the seat and her arms resting on the back. Bending over, giving you a complete view of her ass and pussy. She was so turned on, even her inner thighs were wet. It was a heavenly sight. The chair was positioned in a way that you can both see each other's faces in the mirrors on the wall.

You rest your cock on her ass and lower back, caressing her upper back with your hands, moving down to her waist as she watches in the mirror. Moving her hips back, pressing her ass onto you, she says "Please.."

Now that she was the desperately horny one, you decide to tease her. "Please what? What do you want?"

"I want it…"

"You want what? I want you to say it"

She looks at you from behind her shoulder, saying exactly what was on her mind "I want you to fuck me with your big, sexy cock. I need to feel your cock deep in my pussy. Please, please, fuck.."

You feel a wave of extreme desire flow through your body, hearing her speak those words. You have no choice but to give her exactly what she wants, after all, it's exactly what you want too.

As you prepare to penetrate her, you see her fingers already rubbing her clit, making her breath shaky. She couldn't resist, and now you can't resist either.

You slowly penetrate her warm, tight, wet pussy, it feels heavenly. Karina moans loudly as your cock travels deeper inside her, stretching her pussy. Her tits moving as you speed up, hitting her hips with your own, her ass jiggling subtly.

"It feels…fuck…so good.." she says between her moans and whimpers, rubbing her clit faster, causing her to arch her back.

"Harder….please!"

You give in and fuck her tight pussy even harder. You feel it squeezing your cock, she's in complete ecstasy. She physically cannot stop making noises.

"I'm so close…fuck. I'm-I'm gonna-ah!" she says loudly, before her legs begin to shake. Hearing those words brought you close once again. However, you were in control this time. You start fucking her faster, preparing to cum, just as you hear Karina loudly exclaim..

"I'M CUMMING"

She breathes heavily, moaning and shaking. You her pussy tightening and contracting around your cock, with her juices flowing out of her. You feel your orgasm approaching, it feels unbelievable.

As Karina watches in the mirror, you almost fail pull out of her perfect pussy as you cum, shooting large, thick ropes of cum on her ass and lower back. She softly moans, as she feels your hot cum covering her.

You both take a moment of silence to catch your breath, before you speak.

"That was…..insane."

Her shyness returns, she answers in a nod, hiding her face "Mmhmm.."

You grab towels to clean her up, and gather your clothes. Wondering about the actual yoga class, you ask her "Can I….still come again for yoga?"

Getting dressed, she answers with a giggle "Yes, next week."

"This was the weirdest class I've ever done, but…."

"…Yeah?" you ask, curious about what she was going to say.

"Um…nothing. It's time for you to leave, class is over!"

She awkwardly chases you back into the lobby, shutting the door. The receptionist glances at you as you walk by, her face very red. She asks,

"Is…uh….everything okay?", with a weird expression on her face.

A little embarrassed, you respond "Yeah, it went great!"

You don't stop walking to save yourself from the awkward and confusing situation that remained in the building. You proceed to travel home, realizing that you did not take the free candy offered by the kind, blonde receptionist.

Thank you for reading if you made it this far~

[wonderjanga]

What if when Billy gets put behind the x-ray and Batman's like "where are your bones" Billy panics, so bones appear, except, Billy doesnt actually? Know? How human bones work? So like, he just has a lot of bones under the x-ray now, except there are way too many and also that's not how ones are supposed to look like and fit in the human body??? Why is his whole torso from neck to butt covered in spines??? They're only supposed to be at the chest!

Marvel’s biology is strange. Batman knows that. After all, he and Martian Manhunter oversee the medical examinations of heroes. For some reason though, J’onn isn’t too concerned about it even though he definitely should be. That might be because of the fact J’onn’s a shapeshifter but still. Like…

Batman: “Say ah, Captain.”

Marvel: “Aaaaaaaah…”

Batman: *puts a popsicle stick on his tongue and looks around his mouth*

Marvel: “I’ evrythg gud? (Is everything good?)”

Batman: “Captain… Why do your teeth extend past your throat?”

Marvel: “Wha?”

Batman: “Why do your teeth continue past the normal amount until they disappear down your throat?” *gets a little flash light and peers it into Billy’s throat*

Marvel: “I’ tha no norma? (Is that not normal?)”

Batman: “No? Maybe?” *takes the popsicle stick away and turns off the flashlight*

Marvel: “How many teeth do normal people have?”

Batman: “32.”

Marvel: “Oh, okay. Check again.” *opens his mouth and he now has 32 normal teeth before closing it back up* “Is that better?”

Batman: “It is for humans.”

Marvel: “Oh, well then that’s good because I’m an adult human male aren’t I?”

Batman: Why are you asking me?

The fact that Marvel had to ask if he was an adult human male was extremely offputting.

or

Supes: *using X-ray vision on Billy* “Cap, why do you only have lungs, a heart and a brain?”

Marvel: “What do you mean?”

Supes: “I mean, you only have lungs, a heart, and a brain. How are you standing?”

Marvel: “Uh…”

Supes: “Is that normal for your species or something?”

Marvel: What do you mean species? I’m human?”

Supes: “Then how…?”

Marvel: “Can you show me a photo of human bodily innards?”

Supes: *confused at the suddenness of the question* “Why?”

Marvel: “Just cause.”

Supes: “Okay…” *shows him*

Random Bystander: *sees this and immediately thinks the two are gore fanatics*

Marvel: “Thanks! Now check again.”

Supes: “Woah… how do you do that?”

Marvel: “Well, I’m a human adult male. Aren’t I supposed to have those organs?”

Later, when Marvel told Flash about that incident…

Flash: “Geez, Cap. It’s like you were built by a kid!”

Marvel: “Ha ha ha… I know, right?”

JL: *laughing*

Marvel: *awkward laughing*

Batman: *sees the awkward laughing*

Bruce somehow came up with the theory that Marvel was built by a child God and that’s why his biology was weird despite the fact he claimed to be a human adult male. But then again, if he was built by a child God, would they want him to tweak his creation every single time he wishes to be more human?

[ceilidho]

fig. 1. hand in dog mouth | Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Reader

MASTERLIST · AO3

The first time he smells her from inside the woman's locker room, it brings him to a halt. The human voice in his head grows dimmer and dimmer until it ceases to make a sound.

or: the forced mating omegaverse au

tags: Size Difference, Size Kink, Omegaverse, Explicit Sexual Content, AFAB Reader, Stalking, Kidnapping, Heavy Noncon/Dubcon Elements

“Fuckin’ gym isnae giei’ me a free month even though ah have tae drive tae practically the other side o’ the country tae get a decent pump in.”

“Mate, I can’t understand you when you get all worked up,” Gaz sighs on the other end of the phone, probably pinching the bridge of his nose. A lot of their conversations end up that way, one of them quickly losing patience with the other until the call abruptly ends.

Johnny drops his gym bag in the back and slams the car door shut, rounding to the other side to get in on the driver’s side. 

“Ah said, they aren’y refunding me fer the month even though the other location is on the other side o’ town. That’s a half hour back ‘n forth,” he gripes. The call switches to bluetooth a couple seconds after starting the car, Gaz’s exasperated voice coming from the speaker instead of his cell. 

“Don’t you already get a discount?”

“That’s jus’ fer bein’ a vet. This is completely different. It’s gonna be closed fer a month fer renovations. Ah cannae do this fer a whole month.”

“Hey, I know where you live. Aren’t there other gyms around that you could go to instead?”

“Are ye out o’ yer fuckin’ mind, Gaz? Ah’m no’ payin’ ten quid fer a fuckin’ day pass when ah already pay out the nose fer a membership.” 

“No need to get mad at me, mate, I’m just giving you suggestions.” 

“Well, keep them tae yerself if they’re all that bad.”

“Okay, this has been a great chat. I hope you blow a tire on the way there and try calling me for help so I can ignore it.”

The call ends with a loud beep and Johnny barks out a laugh as he reverses out of his spot, looping out of the lot and onto the main road.

He takes the highway because most of the slush and snow has long been cleaned off, though his wipers pump back and forth furiously to keep the snow flurries from sticking to the windshield. That already sets the tone for his evening. He nearly gets in an accident twice on the way there, everyone losing their ability to drive the second the weather is even slightly bad. 

He should just be lucky his gym even has another branch. They could’ve left him high and dry for the month, forced him to go to one the other gyms in his neighborhood that don’t offer the same range of weights and veteran’s discount. 

Worse, he could’ve been left with no choice but to use Gaz’s guest pass to his exorbitantly overpriced luxury gym downtown. Even the thought makes Johnny shudder. It could always be worse.

It’s so much more than just the drive that he hates about the other location. Like the first time he came here months ago when an appointment on the other side of town made him think it would be more convenient to pop in rather than heading back home for his workout, the parking lot is packed when he arrives, and he has to circle the lot twice before a spot frees up. 

The gym is similarly packed when Johnny walks in, and his mood darkens as he scans the weight section for a free bench. None in sight. Just meathead after meathead lining the far wall, huffing and puffing with each rep, dumbbells scattered around. 

Headphones slipped on and music loud enough to make his ears ring, he heads to the treadmills instead. Better to just start his workout like usual and hope for the best. 

The air stinks of sweat and hormones, alpha pheromones wafting through the gym and leaving not a corner untouched. It’s one of the reasons he prefers the location closer to his place—convenience aside, his location is mainly frequented by betas and omegas, the odd alpha not having much of an impact on the overall vibe. 

It’s not that he doesn’t have plenty of alpha friends (Gaz being just one of them), it’s just that sometimes he likes being the biggest, meanest thing in the room. Keeps him in line. Keeps him from being the stupid shit he is ninety-nine percent of the time, as Gaz would say. He likes to be the only one posturing. 

So he doesn’t relish being forced to work out with a million carbon copies of himself. It’s nothing Johnny isn’t used to at least—a decade in the military and a lifetime of contact sport before that had been enough of an education in coexisting with other alphas—but it leaves him on edge, muscles bunching up until his shoulders are nearly up to his ears. 

Running loosens him up. Distracts him from the urge to sink his teeth into something tender and shake until it bleeds. 

A brisk walk to a light jog to a full on sprint. Tongue suctioned to the roof of his mouth, sharpened canines throbbing. The most natural state in the world—legs pumping under him faster and faster, the faint memory of bare feet on a cold forest floor turning over loose soil with every stride. The steady pound of his feet against the ground rumbling through him.

It’s a pale imitation of the real deal, but the taste of salt and rust on the back of his tongue keep him grounded. The beast in his chest rumbles its approval. 

When a bench finally frees up, Johnny has to dash across the gym when he sees another alpha nearby eyeing his spot. He reaches the bench a few seconds before the other man though, slinging his sweat-drenched towel across the seat to claim it as his. The alpha hovers for a tense second, face screwed up in anger and nostrils flared like he might put up a fight for it. 

Do it, Johnny almost growls, teeth itching. Try it and see what happens.

Lucky for both of them that the other alpha knows when to cut his losses. He shoulder checks another alpha as he stomps back to the leg press machine and nearly starts a whole other fight, but that’s none of Johnny’s business. 

He cringes when he finally looks down at the bench only to find someone’s back outlined in sweat. Entitled shitheads at this gym can’t even be bothered to clean up after themselves. 

The noxious miasma of alpha stench would make his eyes water if he weren’t so used to it. Pungent and sharp, like gargling brine. 

A month can’t go by quick enough.

He leaves feeling worse than when he came in. Shoulders tight with tension and irritation crackling through him. Doesn’t even bother throwing a halfhearted see you later to the front desk workers on his way out. The height of rudeness. Not even rude so much as just not him; Johnny likes to talk, he likes to be friendly with the staff. It speaks to the anger riding high in his blood that he can’t even pretend. 

To make it worse, his car is covered in snow when he makes it back, forcing him to spend an extra five minutes cleaning the shit off before he can finally leave. 

It’s untenable. He can mind his ego for a paycheck, but on his own time his patience curls up into a ball in his chest and goes to sleep. It’s not a question of if he’ll lose his temper but when. Inevitable. His pugnacity has always been his downfall; his Achilles’ heel. Always cutting himself down on a sharp tooth.

The rosary beads dangling from the rearview window sway with the car when he takes a tight turn. 

“Ah ken,” Johnny mumbles to himself, silver cross glinting under the stoplight. “Ah can do a month. Ah can keep it together.”

The next couple of times are just as bad. It’s always crowded during his preferred usual time and it always stinks, like the staff know they’re fighting a losing battle trying to keep the place clean so they don’t even try. 

The sorry fuckin’ state of this place, Johnny thinks in revulsion, sneering down at yet another machine damp with sweat from the guy before him. It takes him a minute to wrestle down the impulse to chase after the other alpha and drag him back by his hair before shoving him face down into the puddle of sweat on the seat he left for someone else to clean up. 

Only the threat of being permanently banned keeps his temper in check. That can only last for so long though.

It’s gotten to the point where he seriously considers taking Gaz up on his offer to come with him to the gym downtown. He’s a danger to himself and others here; a walking time bomb rapidly ticking down. Each day, something new tests the limits of his patience, like when he comes in one crowded afternoon only to find all of the lockers taken, the locker room stuffed to the brim with alphas and a few straggler betas. 

He sits in his car with the heat on for an hour until the gym clears out, steaming enough to fog up the windows. Nearly turns right back around when he enters the locker room to find it absolutely demolished—damp towels strewn about, shower water all over the floor, and stinking to high heavens of sweat, body odour, and piss. 

There’s still a dent in one of the lockers from the brief loss of his temper. He doesn’t cop to it, but he makes a point to only use the lockers on the other side of the room from then on.

He’s desperate enough to join Gaz at his fancy downtown gym all of one time, but the facilities there are so serene and sterile that his skin crawls the moment he walks in. Soothing spa music echoes through the three-story gym (no, wellness centre, the staff correct him at the check-in desk, and Gaz has to kick his bad knee to keep Johnny from howling) and verdant green plants grow from pots placed around the facility. 

Like working out in the jungle, he thinks sardonically. 

“How can ye even concentrate here?” he asks, aghast, staring at the group of limber, flexible bodies stretching and straining in a group yoga class behind a nearby glass wall. He licks his lips. 

Gaz rolls his eyes. “It’s not that bad.”

“Ah’m no’ gonna get kicked out for breathing too loud, am ah?” 

“If anything, you’re gonna get kicked out for public indecency,” Gaz sneers, looking down pointedly at Johnny’s open hand inching towards his crotch. “Can you chill out, mate?”

“It’s no’ my fault! They’re arching their backs ‘n pushing their tits out. Ah shouldnae have to look at that when ah’m tryin’ tae work out.” 

“Would it kill you to not run your mouth off for five fucking minutes?”

Johnny mimes zipping his lips and then follows Gaz downstairs to the locker room, where the wall-length granite sink and infrared sauna make his eyes nearly bug out of his head. 

To no one’s surprise, he doesn’t go back. Gaz doesn’t ask him again either.

An appointment one day pushes his schedule back a couple hours and he shows up later than usual, his teeth clenched tight the whole drive over because he expects the worst. Double the occupants, double the meatheads. 

But when he pulls into a near empty lot, the knot of tension in his chest loosens. Only a handful of cars, and most of them are parked near the take-out place at the other end of the complex. 

It’s practically a wasteland when Johnny walks in. A few people here and there, but otherwise deserted. Only a single person posted near the free weights. 

Even the locker room is more palatable. Freshly cleaned and stocked with new towels. All of the showers have been scrubbed down and dried, the curtains tucked behind the holdbacks and waiting for someone to use them. It’s like walking into a brand new gym. 

“Yeah, this is kind of the sweet spot,” a staff member tells him when he rocks up to the desk to ask about it. “We get a lot of alphas that come here right after five, so when it empties out around nine, we have the cleaning staff come in to sanitize everything.”

“Well shit,” he laughs, pushing back from the desk and lacing his hands behind his head. “Guess yer gonna see me more often.”

True to his word, he starts showing up later and later, the streetlights plump and gold when he swerves into the parking lot and parks in the middle of two spots purely because he can. There’s a new bounce to his gait, a pep in his step. 

It fucks up Johnny’s schedule for a bit, but it’s well worth getting home well after midnight if it means that he gets the gym to himself. No one to complain when he groans and pants through each rep, sweat dripping from his face and body onto the floor, weights slammed against the mat with a loud thud every time he finishes a set. 

(In truth, he’s no better than the alphas that plague the gym during the evening hours, but he’s long made peace with being a hypocrite.)

For a moment, it seems like life will at least be bearable until the month is over and he can go back to training at his regular gym. All he has to do is wait it out. 

When it first catches his nose, he splinters down the middle.

It happens when Johnny’s on his way out for the night, muscles warm and only slightly sore, the kind of soreness that’ll dissipate by the time he flops into bed. It’s later than usual—closer to one than twelve, and he’ll feel it in the morning when he’s forced to get up at his usual hour—but there’s hardly anyone else in the gym and for that, it’s worth it. 

The strap of his gym bag digs into his shoulder as he tosses a hand up on his way, saying goodbye to the beta manning the front desk on his own. A shame that he’s stuck on his own all night. It would drive Johnny crazy to be stuck at work with no one to talk to—it’s one of the reasons that he followed Gaz into private security when they both got out of the service. 

He turns around, about to step out of the gym, when a peculiar smell tries to sneak past him. A slippery thing, silverfish quick and just as conspicuous. 

He catches it though. Hunting dog with a purebred snout, he sniffs it the second it wafts under his nose and goes ramrod straight, egress forgotten. 

The door to the women's locker room is closed, but he can smell the faint traces of the omega���s scent clinging to it. She must have touched it on her way out. Must have placed her palm against the door and shoved. The alpha beneath his skin that wears his face stills as well, everything vanishing into the singular nature of the scent emanating from the locker room door. 

In twenty-nine years, he’s never felt so—

(unmoored, untethered

sinking into it like a stone, not coming apart but unraveling altogether—)

He breathes in again and it’s fainter now, but he can still smell it. Candy pink frosting, so sweet that his teeth hurt and his dick throbs. Juicy like a ripe peach waiting for his teeth. It wafts from the women’s locker room, so subtle that it’s clear that whoever it belonged to is long gone. He must have just missed her, an hour separating them at most. 

It’s like nothing he’s ever smelt before. No omega in heat has ever made his head spin like this, every inch of him attuned to a single scent. Even slick on his tongue has never made him feel like this, rut thundering through his bones and snapping him into a new shape.

The hunger shifts from his throat to his stomach, settling in deep. And the beast under his skin that wears his face opens its maw, ropey strands of spittle stringing between its teeth. 

“Hey man, you good?” 

Johnny blinks, looking over his shoulder to find the guy at the front desk frowning at him. It snaps him out of whatever spell he’d been under. His alpha recedes beneath his skin again, hungering but quieter. 

“Uh…” he clears his throat, pulling the strap of his bag back up onto his shoulder from where it slipped down. Gives the guy a thumbs up. “Yeah. Sorry—lost my train o’ thought.”

The employee stares at him for a beat before mumbling, “Okay…” under his breath and looking back down at the computer.

Johnny stares at the door for another few seconds before finally leaving.

He sweats all the way home. Worries, wonder, and woes. Blinks and suddenly his exit is next, another car behind him honking when he changes lanes abruptly without signalling. Haud yer wheesht, he thinks and flips the other driver off for good measure. 

At home, he paces the length of his house thinking about that omega’s scent until it’s time for bed. Then he tosses and turns until his sleep grows profound and swallows him whole like Jonah. Into the belly of the beast. Nothing to do but let it spit him back out like a peachstone. 

Then morning comes and his jaw clicks when he yawns and his bad knee hurts. 

But worse than the snow pelting his windshield on the drive to work and worse than the cold stinging his face when he parks and stops for his morning coffee is the memory of that smell. 

It’s not as if he doesn’t have any experience with omegas. Despite growing up under the thumb of four alpha sisters, Johnny’s been popular with omegas his whole life. His history with them is an assortment of sordid trysts and quick flings, good enough to scratch an itch but not enough to make him want to bite and keep. 

Sticky, messy, syrupy ruts spent buried between an omega’s soft thighs, gorging himself on slick and pussy; nudging his cock against pillowy lips and then thrusting down their throat, hand palming the base of their skull to hold them in place. 

It’s always been like that though. One and done; a couple days at most to work through the worst of his rut and then out the door, a messy kiss for the road before whistling his way home. Johnny’s good for that. A romp in the hay, a roll in the sack. Generous with his fingers and mouth and cock. 

He’s never craved an omega like this though, never fevered like he fevers now. Itched like his skin was turned inside out in his sleep.

Waking up in the middle of the night panting, the covers under him drenched with sweat and his knot throbbing in his hand, already swollen and aching. Fisting his cock until he has no choice but to roll over and bury his teeth into his pillow, humping the mattress frantically until he comes, eyes watering with the force of his orgasm. 

No tonic for this ailment. It simmers in his blood, infatuation decocting into full blown obsession.

Brontide as leitmotif and it rumbles in his ears. 

Wandering through the city punch-drunk, always waiting for it to catch his nose somewhere else. In line at a salad bar, always a head taller than everyone else (which he’s still getting used to, which is still a strange new fact of civilian life); at a local venue with Gaz for a concert, scenting the air for any sign of them; seated at the back of the coffee shop across the street from the gym, eyes trained on the door.

Waiting. Always waiting. 

And, hungering like a starved dog. 

Saliva pooling in his mouth when he thinks of what it’ll be like when he finally has them under him, desperate and cloying and wet. 

Other omegas smell sickly to him now, off somehow. A facsimile of what he knows is out there waiting for him. He’s not down for a quick fuck anymore. A hand on his chest and doe eyes blinking up at him makes him shudder now, grimacing down at the omega trying to compete for his attention when out there there’s—

His omega.  

Just for him. Made to take his knot and clench around it and squeal when he pumps them full— 

Hishishishishishis. 

So he shrugs her hand off and sends her on her way. 

Johnny spends weeks trying to line up their schedules—his and that elusive omega’s whose scent still permeates the gym even though he never actually sees them in the flesh—to no avail. Even though he’s there waiting at the gym nearly every day, they must stagger their visits. Worse, they seem to come at irregular hours; some days, Johnny shows up and though he can smell the omega’s scent, it’s flat, stale. Like they’ve been gone for hours, ages. Only the oil from their hands still embedded in the dumbbells on the rack. 

He doesn’t even care if anyone’s watching when he brings one up to his nose and breathes in. 

Then abruptly, the scent disappears, and with it, his soundness of mind.

A week gasping for air, flopping belly up. Breathing in nothing, not even the old, stale scent of his omega because they’re gone suddenly without warning. The first couple of days are manageable only because he doesn’t notice it at first, used to his omega taking a couple days off at a time to rest and recover, but then two days stretch into three. And then into four. 

Johnny’s long thought of himself as wild and self-reliant, not accountable to anyone or anything apart from himself. It takes four days to obliterate that notion. 

On the fourth day, he wakes up and his agony crawls out of his mouth on spindly legs. 

It follows him to work and back, an ache between his shoulder blades and a gnawing, wretched hunger for something he can’t have because it’s beyond his grasp. Smoke now, lost in the ether. He drives across town before and after work, hoping that they’ll suddenly reappear and set his mind at ease, but the gym only smells of alpha funk and his own souring mood. 

Too long without it. He’s nothing but a shell of himself in its absence, without the scent of his omega to calm him down, and it makes Johnny realize that he wasn’t doing well on his own before but just barely surviving. Barely keeping his head above water. 

Ghost hauls him out of a bar by the scruff of his neck on Saturday night when he almost starts a fight, and only sinking his canines into the other alpha’s forearm calms him down. He slumps forward in the bigger man’s hold and whines when Ghost strokes a hand down his back and murmurs something vaguely soothing in his ear, his words muffled by the mask. He even lets Ghost drag him back home and curls up on his couch until a balled sock hits his head and he slinks into Ghost’s bedroom, dragging his feet the whole way.

His longing is excruciating. Pathetic. Like a dog with its own empty bowl in its mouth begging for scraps.  

Gaz still calls every day because they’ve been joined at the hip since they first met almost a decade ago and it’s not long before he picks up on the shaky note in Johnny’s voice, stilted conversations becoming wholly incomprehensible. Even Price calls him towards the end of the week to ask if he’s doing alright. No, sir. Yes, sir. Ah’m fine, sir. 

“Was it Gaz who snitched?” Johnny gripes, cutting a side-eyed glare at the alpha on the bench next to him curling sixty pound weights and groaning like he’s getting sucked off at the same time. Still no sign of his omega. 

“Well, it wasn’t Simon.”

That makes him snort. Last time he tells that traitor a goddamn thing about his life. 

Absence does not make the heart grow fonder. It makes the world seem fetid and bland, and he looks out at it through dull eyes, anger kindling inside. Makes his stomach cramp like there’s nothing in it. It takes the sheen out of an oil spill, leaving only the mess and rot behind. 

And then suddenly it’s back like nothing happened, stopping him in his tracks as he walks into the gym. They must have gone out of town for the week, on vacation or visiting family, something so trivial that he’d laugh if his innards weren’t char and ash. If his alpha weren’t half-feral, blotting out his thoughts for hours at a time, all instinct and anger and teeth taking over until he regains clarity and the sky is dark.

It nearly brings him to his knees when he walks into the gym and the smell of his omega blooms bright and nacreous. The gym staff eye him with growing uncertainty, but he’s hardly the most concerning customer at a big box gym (last week someone locked themselves in one of the bathroom stalls with a knife), so they leave him to his own devices when he’s finally able to move again.

His omega isn’t there, of course. Johnny can tell from a quick glance around the gym and a sniff of the air. But they were, and that’s all that matters. 

Their reappearance sharpens his resolve. Runs it against a whetstone, his time of waiting coming to an end. He rolls his shoulders back and puffs his chest out in anticipation. It can’t come soon enough. 

Nothing stays silent for long when a wolf is watching from the shadows. Eventually it has to make a sound. 

It’s quiet in the gym at two a.m. (a far cry from his usual time, but the hunt demands sacrifice), only the sound of a single treadmill whirring and shoes hitting the belt disturbing the near silence. 

Johnny smells you the second he walks in. It punches him right in the chest when he inhales and the ripe, sticky scent of his omega flows into his lungs. Mouth watering on instinct. Rutilant eyed, he tilts his head wolf-like and stares down towards the other side of the gym where a pretty thing fiddles with the settings on the treadmill, settling into a light jog. 

He’s buried under an avalanche of want so powerful and so swift that it collapses him down to base instinct. Thoughts disconnected and hazy, blooming like a bruise in his head. 

Shouldnae be here, he wants to croon in your ear while he holds you down, almost swaying on his feet at the thought. Should be back in my bed at home takin’ my dick so deep in yer gorgeous cunt that ye can taste my cum on the back of yer tongue—

The employee manning the front desk doesn’t even look up when Johnny scans his pass and pushes through the turnstile, flipping to the next page of the magazine open in front of him.

It’s better that way. Johnny doesn’t know what he’d do if someone tried to stop him or get in his way. 

The gym is deserted at this time of night, only the single treadmill in use and someone that passes him on their way out, a gust of wind at Johnny’s back signalling their departure. Everything always works out in his favour. He suffers for it, but God rewards him for his patience. 

He takes a seat on the closest available training machine and doesn’t even pretend to use it. Johnny’s never been much of a performer anyway. Instead, he drops his gym bag down on the floor beside the chest press machine and leans forward, elbows resting against his knees. 

He’s lucky that you’re too concentrated on your workout to feel the heat of his stare. Your phone rests on its side in front of you, an episode of a show playing to distract you while you run. Earphones in to block out the noise. He knows Ghost would tell him to correct that. Can’t have his omega distracted while alphas lurk nearby waiting to dig their teeth into the supple lump of flesh sitting tantalizing just below the collar of your shirt—

A bead of sweat runs down his temple and his dick twitches in his sweats. 

There are cuffs in his gym bag. Tools of the trade. It’s not as innocent as he lets himself think, but they’re there in case things go sideways. Sideways like if you take one look at him and run the other way when you notice the way his half-lidded eyes barely blink as he stares at you. 

And he can’t have that. Not now that he’s found you. 

His patience is unwavering when the circumstances call for it. It’s a skill he picked up in the service, learning to channel all of the frenetic energy coursing through him into a tight point at the back of his mind, compressing it all down to a singularity that later he’ll allow to expand and burn itself out like a dying star. 

Not now though. Now he sits and he watches and he waits.

He stares at your ass while you run, crossfaded on his alpha’s slabbering hunger and his own need to wrench those leggings down your hips. When he has the luxury of time, he’ll tie you to his bed by your wrists and ankles, belly down to make it easier on him, and sink his teeth into the flesh of your ass until it’s tender to the touch, until even ghosting his hand over your ass makes you squirm and weep. 

Even the thought has a growl rumbling at the back of his throat. 

You’re not a very fast runner, but you’re quick enough. Like a rabbit, Johnny thinks and nearly laughs at his own joke. A distracted one at that, too concerned with what’s in front of you to notice what’s lurking right behind. 

No matter. He sits and he waits. 

Eventually, the treadmill starts to slow down, and with it, you. Panting to catch your breath. Fingers trembling when you pause the video on your phone and scrub a towel down your face to wipe off the sweat. 

And for once the entire gym smells of nothing but a honeyed sweetness. Spun sugar and strawberry Angel Delight. Intoxicating and heady. It permeates the building, dragging him deeper into a drugged haze, dulling his senses, plugging his ears with cotton until the only thing he can hear is the sound of your rabbit-quick heartbeat going bump-bump-bump in your chest.

You must have been finishing your workout with a light jog because when the treadmill comes to a complete stop, you take another second to catch your breath and then step off to the side, draping your towel around the back of your neck and heading for the locker room. 

Johnny feels himself rise to his feet but there’s no consciousness behind it. No intent beyond primordial reflex, prey drive kicking in when you try getting away. He forgets about everything else—the employee at the front desk, his gym bag next to him. His knees don’t even crack for once, the movement fluid, and when he follows you towards the locker room, his feet hardly make a sound. 

It’s to his advantage that you haven’t noticed him yet, but he’ll deal with that soon enough. The locked room door swings shut behind you and there’s a second where he hesitates, better thoughts creeping past his alpha to whisper in his ear that he doesn’t have to do it this way. He’s never had trouble with an omega before—why use force now?

And then he hears a locker slam shut on the other side and instinct takes over. 

You’re half-undressed in the middle of the locker room when he walks in, clad only in your panties and bra, and his world narrows down to that moment. Everything in his life has led him to this. Like a red sea parting; the universe suddenly giving him a sign, beckoning him forth. 

The door swings shut behind him and your ears twitch at the noise. 

He’s done this before in another life. Three strides and he slips right up behind you, arms winding around your front to pull you into his chest and covering your mouth with his hand. You freeze for a split second before going haywire, flailing in his hold, his hand muffling your screams.

“Shh, it’s just me, doe,” Johnny shushes you, arms constricting around you. Relishing the feeling of your body against his, warmer and softer than he imagined. 

You shriek behind his hand, twisting in his hold and trying with all your might to break free. Simple thoughts for simple creatures. Even when you try to bite his hand, Johnny only coos, cock swelling at the feeling of your tongue on his skin. The little kittenish licks just rile him up. He likes it less when you try to headbutt him, narrowly missing his nose when you throw your head back. 

When he dips his nose into the crook of your neck, he can’t help the growl that slips out of him.

“Enough o’ tha’,” Johnny growls, words reverberating with his annoyance. 

The sound makes you still, prey instincts as sharp as his. Smart girl. You know when not to push your luck. He’s bigger and stronger, and his teeth are precariously close to your mating gland, which sits nestled in the crook of your neck. 

He breathes in. Your scent is strongest there, at the base of your neck. A delicate layer of skin and then underneath it, your blood sings. Whispers praises high and sweet to him. A shuddering breath out. 

You mumble something behind his hand. Tremble violently, your nails digging into his forearm with a biting sting. 

He shushes you again. “No’ here, baby—gotta take ye somewhere more private.” 

He pays no mind to the way you resume your screaming behind his hand as drags you deeper into the locker room and away from the door. Hardly needs to use any of his real strength, only a fraction of it. The fight you put up would almost be endearing, would almost make him go thatta girl and nip at the tip of your nose, if not for the way it triggers his instincts, an innate urge to dominate you into submission. 

It isn’t hard to wrestle you to the floor in the showers. Like play fighting, all bark and whine and keen, teeth snapping an inch from his nose until he pins you under him, snarling right in your face until you submit. That gets you to stop making a fuss. The last thing he wants is to deal with a front desk employee trying to play the hero by pulling him off you. Not that anyone could. He’d rather this not end in bloodshed. 

“Tha’s better,” Johnny growls. “Jus’ be nice, a’right?”

You shiver at his words, eyes wide and petrified, darting all over his face. Even tinged with your fear, how could he not preen under your gaze now that you’re getting a proper look at him? He knows what he looks like—rugged and strong, mohawk recently cleaned up and beard freshly trimmed. Not a behemoth like Ghost, but big for an alpha, broad shouldered and beefy. 

Big for an alpha in a couple different ways, he leers.

“Don’t hurt me,” you whimper, and that breaks his heart. How could he ever? How could he ever look at something as perfect as you and want to ruin it? His chest aches at the thought. 

“No, baby,” he whines, nuzzling his nose into the side of your face. “Ah would never, baby, never. Dinnae be scared. Ah’m no’ gonna hurt you, doe.” 

He drags his nose down the length of your head, running his tongue over the rounded corner of your jaw. Your sweat tastes of wet roses and tart jam. Still intoxicating, but wrong, sour and sodden with fear. It makes his skin itch and his shoulders tense. You shouldn’t be scared of him; his omega should never be scared of him. 

“Ye cannae smell it, doe?” he asks, pressing a soft kiss into your neck, lingering there so he can feel your pulse flutter against his lips. “Ah can… Cannae smell a damn thing else when yer around. S’all ah can think about.”

“What are you talking about?” you whisper, so frightened that you can barely squeeze the words out, fear choking you. He can’t stand it. The thought that you might find him dangerous makes his throat burn, agony ripping his chest open and yanking his insides out. 

He braces himself up on his forearms and forces his hand under your head, lifting your head up off the tile floor.

“How do ah smell, doe?” Johnny rasps, shoving your face into his neck and holding you there until you have no choice but to inhale. He feels the way you shudder when you do, hands spasming against his chest. “Smells good, doesn’t it? Just breathe it in, doe.”

You do, shakily. Then a deeper inhale, filling your lungs with his scent. 

“I—oh god—” you groan, your hands suddenly fisting in Johnny’s shirt and dragging him closer. 

“Jesus,” he curses through clenched teeth, dizzy with lust. He goes with it, laying more of his body weight on top of you, hind brain taking over.

A long, deep inhale. Your nose digs into his neck. “What is that?” you whine. 

“S’the best thing in the fuckin’ world.” An understatement. Johnny’s eyelids fall shut when your tongue pokes out to lightly graze his neck. 

So much pent up emotion and anguish and want only for it suddenly—

stop.

Motion succumbing to instinct, to fate. Everything else is collateral damage when fate gets in the way. 

Your hands fisted in his shirt, scent ripening, fear replaced with something else—still sharp, but charged. Hesitant because you shouldn’t want this—it shouldn’t even be a thought in your head to indulge the strange man who wrestled you to the floor and forced you to scent him, but then you get a good whiff of him and that thought shakes like television static, like a mirage, like a glass surface wobbling right before it breaks—

When he pulls back, the world is different. 

You’re glassy eyed, so pliant now that he could do anything to you, anything at all. And then his eyes dip lower. 

He cups your neck with a clammy hand and strokes a finger over the lovely gland at the crook of your neck. It’s warm to the touch. 

“Look a’ this,” he breathes, awed. Your hand flies to his wrist, fingers barely able to wrap around it. 

“D-don’t touch it,” you choke out, swallowing harshly. It has to be sensitive. Still, Johnny can’t keep from stroking his finger over it again, soaking up the way his touch makes you shiver. Poor thing, gone so long without your alpha’s touch. 

“Ah cannae help it, doe,” Johnny whispers. He switches to his thumb, rubbing the pad of it over your gland until you whine and squirm, eyebrows drawn tight together. “Does it hurt, baby? Do ye need me tae make it better?”

You whine, trying to weakly bat his hand away. “N-no, that’s for my alpha—” 

“Aye, tha’s right.” His eyes gleam fulgurite under the fluorescent lights. “Fer yer alpha.”

He digs his thumb in harder until your mouth opens on a silent cry. 

His alpha drools a messy puddle beneath his skin, jowls sagging. It stares without blinking. 

It’s different than lust or bloodthirst. Darker; deep-seated. He’s never felt this way before, and, if his gut feeling proves true, he never will again. It’s like looking down a vast, dark hall, and seeing only one way out. 

A damp shower room floor in a locker room is no place for him to take his omega for the first time, but he couldn’t lift himself off you if he tried. His muscles feel far too heavy, like lead weights dragging him down, the gravity stronger here somehow.

“Let’s get this off,” he murmurs, sitting back on his haunches.

“Wait—wait, not here, alpha, please—”

Your protests fall on deaf ears. He wrenches your bra over your head, mindful not to let the back of your head smack against the tile floor. “Gentle, gentle—there we go. Tha’s a good girl.”

Your panties come next, stripped off and tossed elsewhere. His lips follow the path of his hands, sucking kisses into your hips and thighs until your fingers thread into his hair and yank. He yelps, scalp tingling with pain.

“Do tha’ again, doe,” Johnny purrs, shuddering when you do. Eyes rolling back in his head.

His world tilts on its axis when he forces your legs apart and stares at the perfect slice of heaven between your thighs. 

“Doe.” Voice broken, shredded. Running his thumb up the seam of your lips and moaning when your hole clenches at his touch and a drop of slick leaks out. “Oh, doe…she’s so…” 

Too awestruck for words. Language is beyond his grasp, too inadequate for the feelings coursing through him. Lacklustre, diaphanous thing. There’s no way to describe the feeling of leaning forward and touching his lips to yours, angling his head to give her a proper kiss, one with tongue and feeling. She kisses him back just as passionately. 

The taste of you is incomparable. He can’t believe he ever thought there was a world where he could subsist on just the smell of you. Impossible now that he’s had you on his tongue. He runs it up the seam of your pussy, the flat of his tongue spread wide to catch every honeyed dewdrop clinging to your skin, sucking each fold into his mouth to be extra thorough. The pearl sitting nice and pretty at the top gets a wet kiss for waiting so long for his touch. 

He pulls back for a second to catch his breath. “So pretty, baby,” Johnny whines, pulling the hood of your clit up with his thumb and sucking her into his mouth.

“Oh my god—” 

He buries his face into your cunt, the bridge of his nose wedged against your clit and making you howl. He doesn’t budge even when you practically wrench his hair out by the roots, too committed to making your pussy squirt all over his face. Not an easy task with the way you keep trying to push him away from your cunt, but Johnny’s always risen to any challenge. 

You howl when he wedges his tongue in as deep as it’ll go, thighs clamping around his head. Not a bad way to go, Johnny thinks in a daze, chin wet with your juices and nose nuzzling your sensitive little clit, making your whole body jolt. He can tell you’re close by the way your thighs spasm and your scent goes marzipan sweet, so lush and rich that his swollen cock leaks in his sweatpants.

It’s easy to get lost in your pleasure; Johnny feels it like it’s his own, his low back aching with the force of your impending orgasm. He misses your clit too much to let her get lonely though, so he lets go of your hip to push a couple fingers into your hole instead of his tongue. 

“C’mon, doe, lemme see ye come,” he whines into your pussy, thrusting all three fingers into your hole, half-lidded eyes with blown out pupils watching the way your pussy gobbles them up. “Just like tha’—oh, there we go, baby, oh my god, come on, yes—lemme have it, doe—”

Your release is wet on his hand and all over his face. Little pussy still milking his fingers, the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

A hush falls over the room, the moment almost devotional. He thinks you might be crying, but it’s hard to tell because the blood in his ears is too loud and his hand is wet with your come and he wants nothing more than to do it all over again until you can’t even talk. 

He rises to his feet in a daze, a deep red flush high on his cheekbones. His shirt comes off first, pulled over the back of his head and tossed behind him; his sweats are similarly discarded, tugged down and kicked away until you’re staring up at him in all his hairy, naked glory, cock flush with blood and heavy, drooping away from his stomach.  

He laughs when he notices where your gaze has dropped. “Like what ye see?”

“I don’t know about this—” you start, but he pays your words no mind. 

“C’mere,” he growls, suppressing the urge to wince when he drops to his knees again.

Johnny hooks an arm under your low back, hoisting your hips up until your ass rests against his thighs, making your back arch. It thrusts your tits up towards his face and he nearly goes cross-eyed staring down at your cute little nipples. They look lonely too. 

He gets distracted again, forgetting about sinking his cock in your cunt in favour of hunching over to get his mouth on your tits. Sucks one until it's hard and pebbled against his tongue and circles his tongue over the soft areola skin, completely forgetting about your other breast. It’s hard to pull himself off. 

You yelp when he bites down, not hard enough to hurt, but deliberate enough to tick you off. 

“That’s too rough!” you hiss, grabbing him by the hair again. 

“Sorry,” Johnny gasps. He nuzzles between your breasts, practically purring. “Ah’m so sorry, doe, ah couldnae help myself…”

Puppyish, he leans up to bunt his head under your chin, shuddering when your fingers loosen and hesitantly scratch his head. 

“…Okay…” you murmur, overwhelmed. He ignores you, too content with nuzzling into your neck while you run your nails over his scalp.

Being this close to you after weeks of nothing is almost enough. The air reeks with your scent. If it weren’t for the ugly, festering ache in his belly, he’d be tempted to skip straight to this. Roll onto his back and pull you onto his chest, press his nose to the crown of your head and breathe in until it lulls him right to sleep. Maybe get a good belly scratch at the same time.

Then he inhales and the scent of your come on his chin makes his spine go stiff. Drool leaks from the corner of his mouth.

It can’t wait anymore. The thing under his skin shakes with hunger, its greed a ravenous, frothing appetite that goes mindless when it waits for its food. Do it. Do it now.

He braces a hand against the tile floor to lift himself up and pets your cheek with his free hand. “Ah’m gonna put it in now, okay, doe?” 

And he means it too, stomach cramping with eager anticipation, knot already filling up at the base of his dick—still small enough to pop it into your hole, but not for much longer—because it’s everything he’s dreamt of since he first caught your scent in the air. 

That must not be the case for you. 

When you twist onto your belly and try to scramble away, he stares dumbly for a second before seeing red. Johnny crawls after you, dragging you back by your ankle when you get a bit too far away and flipping you over again. You hiss when the back of your head smashes against the floor, hands reaching up to cradle it instinctively. 

You get it snarled right in your face, his anger erupting out of him like a geyser, like a dense fog rolling down from the mountains and spreading to everything below. “Ye dinnae fuckin’ move.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you breathe. 

Even consumed by rage, he can smell your terror. Putrid, not the soft sweetness of your usual scent. There’s pain there too, and it makes his muscles tense like he’s ready to spring. It’s what brings his alpha to the surface, the scorch of anger cooling slowly as you lie there trembling. 

It doesn’t feel good, but he can’t—he can’t let you go. 

His hands flutter over your face, squeezing your cheeks and leaning down to plant kiss after soft kiss on your lips. “Doe, please, ye cannae do tha’…ah wanna be gentle, but ah cannae control myself if ye—” Johnny can’t bring himself to say it, the image too painful to contemplate. There’s no reason on Earth that his omega should be trying to run away from him.

“O-okay, alpha…I…I’ll be good.” 

His self-control is hairstring thin. “Yer just nervous, right? Tha’ why ye tried tae run?”

“I-I’m just nervous, alpha.” It’s a neat trick, repeating his words back to him in order to calm him down. It works. 

His chest deflates as he kneels there over you. Johnny stares into your eyes a few seconds longer, a subtle reminder not to fucking move, before he sits up again, rolling his shoulders back and tugging your lower half in again. 

This time when he notches the head of his cock against your entrance, you whisper oh god oh god oh god to yourself but you don’t try to run. It must seem inevitable—no way to fight him off or talk him out of it because there’s a film over his eyes that reflects nothing back. 

And then he slowly sinks his cock into you, your hole stretching around the mushroomed head. His jaw rolls on a shaky exhale.

Something in him cracks wide open and—

something ugly slithers out.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, voice cracking. His cock sinks in another inch, warm, wet heat sucking him in. “Jesus, doe, ah cannae fuckin’ breathe—”

You flex your hips at his words, ankles digging into the divots above his arse and pulling him in until he suddenly bottoms out, cock stuffed to the root in the warmest, snuggest cunt he’s ever felt. It nearly makes him go mad; he gets so close to it that his face goes numb, the blood pounding in his ears. He curls over you, a string of curses slipping out of his mouth. 

You’re there when Johnny opens his eyes again, damp hair haloing you. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, a tear slipping past your waterline and dribbling down your face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me—”

“It’s okay, doe.” His hands run up and down your sides, soothing you. “S’just instinct. Ye cannae help it any more than ah can.”

Your walls squeeze around his shaft, nerves making you tense up, and Johnny groans, his hand curling into a fist by your head. It takes every iota of his being not to come right then, buried to the hilt in your pussy with your ankles digging into his low back. He nearly does when you whine at him to move. 

“Okay, baby,” he breathes. 

Johnny tries to be gentle at first. Makes a conscious effort to rock into you with slow, smooth strokes, distracting you with a deep, wet kiss. Lips gliding together, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth only to graze it with his teeth, heat rushing through him when you tremble. Coaxing your tongue into his mouth and then sucking on it.

His control starts to slip when he tries to pull out and your ankles dig into his back, pulling him back in. The force of his next thrust makes your body shift, sliding up the wet floor. Too much. Be gentle. But he can’t—the pressure in his core gets worse the longer he fucks you, an eagerness to reach his end building and building. All he can do is chase it. Bite at its heels. 

“Yer so pretty,” he rasps, petting your face with shaky hands and bucking his hips into yours until you can’t hold back your pretty little moans. “Pretty, pretty doe. Ah’ve got ye, love.”

A few more like that, pounding into you until you squeak like a toy and he laughs, breathless and full of mirth. Buoyant. Revelling in the sound of you coming apart under him, all fractured pleas and kiss-swollen lips. 

Perfect angel, all sweetness and moans and cream coating his cock, gleaming under the fluorescent lights every time he pulls out. 

There’s a white ring at the base of his dick from the mess of your combined fluids. Johnny nearly passes out when he notices. 

His bad knee aches from digging into the tile floor. He’ll feel it in the morning when he wakes up with bruises on his elbows and shins, muscles stiff and twinging when he moves, but it’s a price he’ll happily pay to keep his pretty doe on her back with her legs spread. 

Any lingering guilt about fucking you on the gross shower room floor evaporates the more you pant and the wetter you get because, he rationalizes, on some level you must want him just as bad. Not with the same fervour, not a bone bright ache that sucks you dry and spits you out like a peach pit, but close enough that you aren’t pushing him away anymore. 

He ignores the weak pressure on his shoulders. Pries your hands off so he can pin your wrists together over your head. 

“Been lookin’ fer ye fer so long,” Johnny croons. He ruts into you clumsily, losing any semblance of finesse. “Smelt ye weeks ago ‘n knew…knew ah had tae have ye.”

Your eyes fly open, stunned. “Weeks?” you gasp.

“Thought ah’d lose my fuckin’ mind lookin’ fer ye.” His breath comes out ragged. “Couldnae sleep or eat or do anythin’ except jerk my cock raw. Should’ve saved it all up fer ye, but…” his laughter is a deep, brassy thing. “…ye’ll still get a fair share.”

“You’re disgusting,” you moan, and that makes him laugh even more, rutting into you like a beast.

“Christ, doe, keep runnin’ that mouth.”

“You’re a—”

dumb, nasty dog

sick in the head, fucking me with that big, fat dick—

He grunts and his lip pulls back in a mean, crooked grin. 

It’s never been like this before. Like someone drilled a hole in the side of his head and filled it up with you. You’re in every crevice of his mind and body, mycorrhizal tendril spreading through him.

“Ah’m gonna ruin yer pretty cunt, doe,” Johnny rasps, neck soaked with sweat and eyes burning hot, pupils blown so wide only a glimmer of blue remains. “Get her nice ‘n soaked with my come.”

“Alpha—” you keen, for lack of anything else to call him and it makes his vision go blank. 

That’s the only truth that matters to him. Like a divine calling—his omega begging for him, asking for more more more. It’s as close to love as he’s ever gotten; as close to heaven as he ever will. 

Diving headfirst into oblivion. He clamps his hands around your waist to hold you in place and fucks into you with renewed vigour, losing himself in the pleasure. Any coherent thought evaporates, reduced to mindless instinct. His beast and him are indistinguishable; two sides of the same coin; he looms over you Janus-faced, a god of beginnings and endings. 

He breathes out heavily through his nose, teeth gritting together and lips pulled into a flat line. So close to it, knot catching more with every thrust, almost too big to pull out. 

The smack of his hips against yours fill his ears, drowning out your pleading and keening. Seismic motions churning beneath the tile floor keep a steady pulse. The lewd squelch of your pussy nearly drives him mad—slick running down your thighs, pooling onto the floor beneath you, this place irrevocably changed because of your mating— 

If only you’d squirt on his dick too, he could die happy. Scream out alpha, alpha, alpha until you shudder and come.

And you do eventually—milk his dick filthy sweet and cling onto him for dear life, nails scoring red lines into the flesh of his back. His muscles bunching under your touch. 

“Fuck, doe,” Johnny chokes, near tears himself. His perfect girl coming all over his cock, eyes rolling back in your head like it’s never been like this for you before. “Tha’s right, tha’s right—such a good fuckin’ girl—oh, baby—”

You need him. No other alpha can take care of you he would. It’s not enough that he fuck you, not enough that he make you come, not enough that he see you through your next heat, he has to—

Take it all for himself, every last fuckin’ inch of you his.

He bears down on you, scooping his arms under your back until there’s no space between you, chests pressed together. 

His eyes zero in on it. The nodule of flesh at the crook of your neck. And his teeth itch like they’ve never itched before, too large for his mouth. 

“Alpha—” you sob, squirming in his hold. “Alpha—too tight—”

He can’t respond. Mouth full of drool and teeth, fucking you harder than you should be fucked, cockhead trying to kiss your cervix with every thrust. He’d crawl inside of you if he could. His thrusts only slow when his knot finally catches, the pressure making you sob when he tries to pull out and he can’t, stuck inside you. Lazy grinds of his hips now, getting as deep as possible. 

It’s a shock to his system so profound that he can’t stop shaking. His first knot—better than a ring, more binding than a marriage contract. The most basic, ancient covenant. Irrevocable. 

And—it feels—

Indescribable. His thoughts leak from his ears like tar. Eager, fevered. Eyes fixed on your mating gland, dropping his head to get a better view. Better up close, so close that his teeth graze it every time he pants, so sharp that one wrong move and they’ll slice right through, one twitch and it’s game over—

You mewl and arch your chest, inadvertently thrusting your neck up too, so his canine drags across your gland—

mine mine mine mine mine mine

The beast under his skin has a name and it’s—

mine mine mine mine mine mine

(and his teeth just slipped, he’ll say when you ask)

Ah dinnae mean tae, doe, honest—

But ah’ll take care of ye—

You’ll never understand it, but there’s a beast that lives under his skin and it—

—yearns, craves, hungers, howls like its belly is still empty even after all this time, constantly aching no matter how much it’s fed—

Sometimes Johnny wonders if it’s like this for other alphas. Whether they crave their mates with the same intensity, the same burning need smoldering in their veins. He asks Price once and gets an answer that neither confirms nor denies. 

All Johnny knows is that your legs shake when you follow him out of the gym, the employee behind the front desk not meeting his eyes. Better that he not. There’s still blood and come on his chin, his grey sweats stained at the crotch. You’re no better, shirtless under your puffy jacket, hat jammed on a bit too low on your head because he had to be the one to put you back together after taking you apart. 

And though he’s sheepish on the drive home—because what’s his is yours now, and what’s yours is his—your car still back in the parking lot until he can get someone to pick it up in the morning, he wears guilt like sheep’s clothing. It doesn’t fit quite right. 

“We’ll get ye a nice wedding gift tomorrow,” he placates when you huff, thumbing your swollen bottom lip at the next stoplight. It’s tempting to lean in and suck it into his mouth, even now. 

“I’m gonna max out your fucking credit cards,” you mumble, scowling at him. Still, you wrap your lips around his thumb when he slips it into your mouth. 

You cup your hand over your punctured mating gland in lieu of a bandage. 

Johnny cackles. Man plans and God laughs.

In the distance, thunder rumbles and your head turns towards the sound that only you and he can hear.

[chaoticwriting]

Streamer Danny

Everyone has a hobby or something they like to do. For Cass, that is watching Danny's stream. She doesn't know why but Danny's voices are very soothing and pleasant to hear. And it's not even just her that thought that. Every single one of Danny's fans say the same thing.

It is also a plus that Danny always talks using simple English. It makes it easier for her to learn how to speak and even read. Her favorite streams are the streams where Danny just sits and chats with the viewers. Not to say she doesn't like the other contents but there is just something nice to hear him answer her questions about himself.

No. She totally doesn't have a crush on that guy Steph. He doesn't even know her. How can she have a crush on someone that she never met before.

One thing she takes notes is the concerning things Danny sometimes says online. Like how he is half dead. Or something about a creepy godfather or something. Cass tries to look into him more with Tim's help (No Tim. She doesn't have a crush on this guy. And it's not creepy at all to stalk his personal information like this.) but finds practically nothing online about him except for his streaming channel and his hometown being somewhere in Illinois.

Danny also sometimes brings in guests to either interview or play video games with. There is Tucker, tech geek. He apparently is the one that sets up Danny's devices so that he can stream easily. Then there is Sam. His ex-girlfriend best friend. They talk about a lot of things mostly plants and ecosystems. There are also his sisters. Ellie is also a recurring guest. She often comes on stream and shares her travel experience and tips when traveling. Then there is Jazz who works as a psychiatrist at Arkham. And also is apparently working part-time for Red Hood.

Cass almost goes crazy when she hears that. She contemplates going to Jason to blackmail ask Jason to introduce Danny to her. Cass barely hesitates and the next thing anyone knows, Cass is inside Jason's apartment sitting on his couch nibbling on the freshly baked cookies Jason has on his counter.

Jason: *Walks out from his bedroom* Wtf! Where the hell did you come from?

Cass: *Stares*

Jason: Uggh. What the hell do you want?

Cass: Do you know Jazz?

Jason: *Tense* Why do you want to know?

Cass: Introduce me to her brother.

Jason: Danny? Why the hell do you wanna meet her?

Cass: A fan.

Jason: A fan? A fan of what? Wait. Danny did do the live streaming shit. Are you talking about that?

Cass: *Nods*

Jason: Whatever. Just don't fucking enter my house like that next time. I will call you to tell you when he is free.

Cass: *Smiles* Thank you.

Jason: Yeah yeah.

-Other place-

Danny: And that's it for today's stream people. I think I can stream again tomorrow but let's see if plans can keep up with change.

Chat: We want you to sing!

Danny: I will think about it in the next stream. Anyway see you later guys.

Chat: Bye!

Turning off the stream, Danny tiredly releases a sigh. Danny doesn't know why everyone wants him to sing. As far as Danny remembers, his voice has always been okay at best. He remembers getting mocked by Dash and his group when they participated in a choir when they were 10. Since then, Danny swears that he will never sing again.

What Danny likes though is dancing. Especially, ballet. He always likes the way the dancer expresses their emotions through body movements. The way they express anger, sadness, happiness and even love. When he becomes a ghost, he gets even better at reading those using ghost speak. Danny dreams of one day being able to dance in front of an audience of hundreds.

Opening a video platform website, Danny searches for a specific ballet group that he encounters. The group has a specific dancer that is amazing at expressing her emotions through dance.

Danny watches longingly hoping he could one day dance like that, or even dance with her. Suddenly a knock comes from his door.

Jazz: Hey, Danny. Can we talk?

[luveline]

shy!reader and spencer who are in the early days of their relationship and are getting more comfortable with initiating physical affection with each other (especially reader lol) and spencer gets her to open up by playing with her hair / hands, tickling her, cuddling, the like <3

The first time Spencer let his head rest against yours, you were sure you’d die right there and then, half-asleep on the subway, then suddenly away as he’d started talking under his breath, his conversation for you and you alone. You'd flushed full body and forced yourself to stay still, until Spencer had confused your shyness for not wanting his weight against you and pulled away. 

This time you’re ready. This time, he’s working his arm over the top of your shoulders. Not a timid first move on the first date, he’d suffered through that already. Spencer lets his arm slip between your back and the couch as he tugs you toward him, resting his cheek against your temple, two points of skin turning hot as a burner. 

“Okay?” he asks quietly. 

You let yourself relax into it. “I’m fine.” 

“Did you want me to run that bath for you?” 

It’s imperative he doesn’t move. “No, I can do it. I’ll do it later, if that’s okay.” 

It’s Spencer’s bath, but he let you take one the last time you stayed the night, so you’ll work it out. You knew he wasn’t gonna peep on you, knew you were totally safe in his bathroom, but your heart hammered fast as a hummingbird’s whenever the floors creaked —just the idea of being near him when you were unclothed set you aflame. Your skin warms with the memory, a nervousness in your chest and hands that grows uncomfortably warm. 

You don’t move, though. You’re sending him all the wrong messages when you reject him out of timidity, you’re more than aware of it, but the longer he sits there gently holding you, the more the temptation to squirm builds. 

Spencer makes a soft, soft sound as his hand trails up your back, curling around your arm, and meandering a path to your elbow. 

“I got…” —Spencer begins, without any inclination to rush— “…more of that bath soak you liked, the camomile… and honey…”

You love the smell. Sometimes you swear you can smell it in his hair when he presses near you. 

“And a loufa, ‘cos you didn’t have one last time,” he adds. 

“Thank you.” 

“…You’re welcome.” He kisses the side of your head. Then, in a betrayal of his character, he laughs breathlessly, saying, “Sorry, I forgot what I was saying. The loufa– It’s purple. I put it on the towel rack, and I got you a new face towel, too, mine’s too rough for you.” 

“Did you get yourself a new one too?” 

“Yeah.” He taps your cheek, the hand you’d forgotten about drawing a short line to your jaw. “You’re pretty.” 

You drop your chin. 

“You are,” he says. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” Spencer’s hand slides down your neck, a caress that turns to a kind hold. “Can I…” He snorts softly. “You’re solid,” he says, squeezing your neck with enough pressure to wind you, which isn’t much. “You don’t have to get all tense.” 

“I’m trying really hard not to get tense,” you admit. 

“I know. I’m trying to help, but I’m just making it worse.” 

Spencer isn’t making it worse. Or, he wasn’t. “I thought you were gonna kiss me, is the thing.” 

“I was. Then you tensed up and I didn’t think I should.” His easy smile goes funny. “Could I have?” 

“Of course you could’ve,” you mumble, pressing your face into his shoulder before he can decimate the last of your self respect. He laughs —giggles, really, in a burst of sound— and tugs you in. “Not funny.”

He can hear the lie. “No, it’s not funny,” he agrees anyways, laying back and then moving forward, swaying you enough to turn the giggle into a full blown laugh. 

He murmurs something. You mumble back. His fingertips slip over the dip in your back and he’s saying something nice, if a little shy. It’s been nice getting closer to him, seeing the real Spencer, someone who’s hesitant but gentle beyond words. There’s no reason for him to be touching you like this, to talk sweet nothings behind your ear as he lugs you onto his chest, and maybe there’s no reason for you to melt. Butter in the sun, drifting bonelessly into his lap. 

“You smell like tea,” you say quietly. “I love it.” 

“You love it?” he asks, something oddly awed about him as he shifts your head back to look you in the eyes. 

“Mm. It’s nice. And your eyes are so brown… they’re my favourite thing about you.” 

Spencer teases the stripe of skin exposed by your rising t-shirt until you’re shivering again. “Thank you,” he says, letting one close in a wink as he taps your nose with his. “Am I allowed to say what I like about you, or–” You shake your head so violently he immediately stops. “Fine. But only because I want to sit like this for the rest of the night with you.” 

“I still need a shower.” 

“Later,” he says, his lips resting on your chin. “Way, way later, please.” 

[catchastarorten]

—100 loaves of bread.

Pairing: the salesman/recruiter x bakeryowner!fem!reader

Summary: it started with a few visits from him buying 100 loaves of bread each time from your little bakery, but overtime the two of you started to get familiar, little did you know about his ‘work’ and how he should’ve given the card to you but didn't...

Content: fluff, aggressive stomping on bread, him having a soft spot for you, trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care about you (it doesn’t work lol), a bit of reader's backstory, self-conflict and a bit of change of heart from him, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 2.1k

You were wiping down the counter when the familiar chime of the bell above the door jingled. It was late in the afternoon, and the bakery was quiet, except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the faint scent of freshly baked bread and sugar lingering in the air. You glanced up, already knowing who it was. He was here again—the man with the sharp suit and the briefcase who bought bread in quantities that always left you baffled.

“Afternoon,” you said, watching as he walked in with the same calm, measured way as always. He almost looked too friendly for someone who carried himself so formally.

“Afternoon,” he replied, stepping up to the counter and resting his briefcase at his feet. “I’ll need the usual. A hundred loaves.”

A hundred loaves of bread. It was such a ridiculous request, and yet, he never failed to make it.

You’d asked him once, early on, what on earth he did with all that bread. Selling it somewhere else for a profit? Feeding a small army? Storing up for an apocalypse? He had only smiled at you then, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and said, “Something like that.”

It had been weeks since his first visit, and by now, the routine was familiar. You’d load loaf after loaf into paper bags while he stood patiently, sometimes asking about your day, sometimes quietly observing the modest little bakery. Today, though, you felt compelled to ask again.

“Are you sure you want all of it?” you asked, sliding the first bag across the counter. “That’s… a lot of bread.”

He smiled faintly, reaching for the bag and setting it beside him. “You ask me that every time.”

“Well, it’s not everyday someone comes in and buys out half my stock,” you said, tilting your head. “It makes me curious.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, he seemed like he might answer—really answer. But then he only shrugged slightly, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. “Let’s just say it goes to good use.”

You frowned, unsatisfied but unwilling to press further. He always paid in cash, crisp bills that he counted out with precision. You noticed, as you often did, that he never left without dropping a generous tip into the glass jar by the register. He offered you a warm look as he slipped a few bills into the tip jar again.

“Keep up the good work,” he said. “Your bread’s the best in the city.”

You weren’t sure whether to be flattered or suspicious. He seemed genuine, but there was something about him—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Still, it wasn’t your place to pry. You handed him the last of the bags, and he left with the same polite nod as always.

The next time he came in, it wasn’t for a hundred loaves of bread.

You were behind the counter again, rearranging a tray of pastries, when you heard the door chime. Glancing up, you saw him standing there, his briefcase nowhere in sight.

“Not the usual today?” you asked, half-teasing.

He smiled slightly, stepping up to the counter. “Not today. I was thinking I’d try something different.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

He scanned the display case, his eyes lingering on a slice of strawberry shortcake near the center. “That,” he said, pointing.

You wrapped up the slice for him, and when you handed it over, he didn’t leave right away. Instead, he took a seat at one of the small tables by the window—a seat no one ever seemed to take—and unwrapped the cake with a kind of deliberate care. You watched, unable to help yourself, as he took a bite.

“It’s good,” he mumbled, almost to himself. “Really good.”

A flicker of amusement crossed your face as you watched him eat. He wasn’t as neat as you’d expected—a bit of whipped cream ended up on the corner of his mouth, and he licked it away absentmindedly, his gaze drifting to the shelves of decorative knick-knacks you’d lined the walls with.

“I never really noticed these before,” he said, gesturing toward a small ceramic cat perched on one of the shelves. “Did you make them?”

You shook your head. “No, those were my parents’. They used to run this place before me. They had a thing for collecting stuff like that.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s nice. Feels… homey.”

You didn’t know why, but his words left you oddly self-conscious. The bakery had always been your parents’ dream, not yours, and while you’d taken it over out of necessity, you’d never thought much about how it felt to anyone else. But hearing him say it was homey made you feel a faint sense of pride.

“Thanks,” you said softly.

He stayed longer than usual that day, finishing his cake and ordering a coffee to go with it.

You found yourself talking to him more than you normally would with a customer. He asked about the bakery, about your favorite thing to bake, about whether you’d ever considered expanding. You didn’t ask about him—not directly—but you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of man he was.

By the time he left, it was dark outside, and the bakery was empty except for you. As you locked up for the night, you found yourself thinking about his smile, the way it lingered even after he was gone.

One day, as he was paying for a loaf of sourdough, he looked at you, his head tilting slightly. “Do you ever think about getting out of here?” he asked.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… this place is great, but don’t you ever wonder what else is out there?”

You hesitated. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought about it—leaving, starting fresh somewhere new—but the bakery was all you’d ever known. It was safe, familiar. And after your parents passed, it felt like the only thing that tethered you to them.

“Sometimes,” you admitted. “But I don’t know. This place… it’s home.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, there was a silence between you. Then he smiled again, that warm, almost disarming smile, and slid an extra bill across the counter. “For the tip jar,” he said.

You watched as he walked out the door, his briefcase in hand, and wondered—for the hundredth time—what kind of life he led.

...

The bell above the bakery door chimed familiarly.

He stepped inside, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket, his polished demeanor there as always. But inside, his stomach churned. He had made a decision today—a decision that, for once, made him feel something like guilt.

He scanned the shop. You were at the counter, hands dusted with flour as you arranged freshly baked rolls on a tray. The soft glow of the afternoon light spilling through the window caught on your hair, and the faintest smile tugged at your lips when you saw him. That smile… It was a problem.

“Afternoon,” you said, just as you always did. Your voice was warm, even though he could see the slight tiredness beneath it. That smile didn’t reach your eyes as much these days, but you still tried, didn’t you?

He nodded, keeping his face neutral. “Afternoon.”

You weren’t supposed to matter to him. That was the rule. He had a job to do, a system to uphold, and people like you—drowning in debt—were just part of the equation. It shouldn't have mattered how good-hearted you were, how hardworking you were.

You weren’t special... at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

He first started coming to your bakery for convenience, but as time passed, the lines started to blur. The bread looked good, better than most places in this part of the city, and you didn’t ask too many questions.

The loaves weren’t for eating, of course. They were for a little ‘social experiment’.

“Bread or lottery?” That’s what he’d ask them—the desperate, homeless souls he scouted in the park. It was always the same. He’d hold out a loaf in one hand, a lottery scratcher in the other. The bread could fill their stomachs. But the lottery ticket? That promised a chance. A gamble. A way out.

They always chose the ticket. Every time.

He knew what came next. The moment they realized it wasn’t a winning ticket after all. They’d just stared at him, some cursed out loud, some were just disappointed, their hopes bleeding out onto the pavement.

And the bread? He destroyed it. Stomped it into the ground until it was unrecognizable, crumbs scattering across the concrete.

It was dramatic, yes, but it served its purpose. It showed them the choice that they had made, the food that they had thrown away and destroyed, not him. It was necessary. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

But the bread came from you.

That detail had started to bother him more and more. You put your heart into every loaf, every pastry, every crumb that came out of your oven. He saw it in the way you worked, the way you carefully packed the loaves into paper bags for him, the way you smiled when he left a tip. He had started tipping more, as if that would excuse him of the guilt of what he was doing with your work—it didn’t.

He had been keeping tabs on you. He knew about your debts, the ones you and your brother had racked up trying to keep the bakery afloat after your parents passed. He knew how hard you worked to stay above water, how you barely made enough to cover the bills some months.

You were exactly the kind of person he was supposed to recruit.

He told himself that’s why he started coming more often. He needed to assess you, to figure out the right moment to offer you the card. But the truth was, he liked being in the bakery. He liked the smell of fresh bread and sugar, the hum of the old refrigerator, the quiet way you moved behind the counter. He liked your voice when you asked him how his day was going, even though he never answered honestly.

And he hated himself for liking any of it.

The card was in his pocket today. He had been carrying it around for a while now, waiting for the right moment.

Today, he had decided, would be the day. After all, you deserved it, right? The games were brutal, yes, but they were also fair. A chance for people like you to escape the crushing weight of debt.

That’s what he told himself as he walked into the bakery. But when you looked up at him, your flour-dusted hands resting on the counter, and said, “So, what are you getting today?”—he froze.

He could feel the card in his pocket, its edges pressing against his fingers. All he had to do was pull it out, slide it across the counter, and say the words. But he couldn’t do it. Not to you.

Instead, he cleared his throat. “I’ll take another slice of that cake,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt.

You looked over to the display. “The strawberry one?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his finger gently tapping the display glass that caged all the pastries. “It’s… good.”

You smiled faintly, wrapping up the slice and handing it to him. “Anything else?”

He hesitated, the card burning a hole in his pocket. But then your eyes met his, and something in them—something warm, something real—made his resolve crumble.

“No,” he said softly. “That’s all.”

As he ate the cake at the small table by the window again, he told himself that letting you go was the right thing to do. You didn’t belong in the games. You didn’t belong in his world. And yet, he felt something close to longing as he watched you work behind the counter, your movements quick and precise, your expression focused.

For the first time in a very, very long time, he felt human.

When he left the bakery that day, he slipped a few extra bills into the tip jar. He told himself it was just another gesture, another way to balance the scales. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough to make up for what he did—what he was.

And yet, he didn’t offer you the card. He didn’t bring it the next time he visited, or the time after that. He told himself he’d do it eventually, that it was inevitable. But the truth was, he didn’t have the heart to drag you into the darkness he inhabited every day.

You weren’t like him. And he wanted—no, needed—to keep it that way.

[justauthoring]

The Flutters of my Heart.

Request: hey could you do a fic with thanos from squid game: where the reader is apart of gi hub’s group but thanos is really into her and keeps flirting with her loudly. Her and the boys are all suspicious, thinking it’s a trick but they find out he just really likes her

Pairing: Choi Su-bong "Thanos" x F!Reader

Word Count: 2,327

A/N: I did not think the second Squid Game fic I'd write would be for Thanos but... honestly, it feels right.

Two things -> Thanos might be OOC lol he's super hard to write for and you essentially replaced Jun-hee - I love her but it just works better for this fic.

Your first interaction with him had been anything but pleasant.

With blood splattered across his face, from the people you'd seen him knock over during Red Light, Green Light no less, he'd smiled at you with crazed eyes, called you 'Senorita' and asked if you'd join his team. You're positive even if you hadn't seen his actions during the first game, you would've said no. You're even more confident in your outright denial when you see him vote 'O' with a grin.

He's all flirt and false charm. He promises you that he'll keep you safe because he's the one and only great Thanos and does so even as his friend scoffs and tells him they shouldn't bother with someone like you.

You had to admit, he was convincing. If you weren't in a game of life or death, you'd be lying to yourself to say that a part of you wouldn't maybe given in to his flirtations. But, this was life or death and you can't afford to make alliances with someone who is clearly so... unsteady.

Definitely not with someone who so outwardly wants to stay in this terrible place.

You find yourself your own team, somehow survive the second game and really, Thanos hasn't been on your mind since that first interaction. You'd barely paid attention when you'd seen his team win, the only thing really of note catching your attention that he'd seemed to find some other girl to bother instead of you.

Your group, despite two initially voting to stay, are routed in their beliefs to get out of here after the second game. Despite them all being men, they'd accepted you with ease and any little concerns they might have had had been squashed the second you'd won the game of Ddakji your first try.

You feel safe with your group and allow yourself to follow them around, feeling protected with your numbers and at ease with their friendly and inviting personalities.

It isn't until after the second round of voting and Jung-bae's surprising betrayal, that you're approached by Thanos for a second time.

You're in line for food when he approaches you, surprisingly not with Player 124 like he normally is.

"Senorita," he grins, pulling your eyes on him with a blink of surprise. You frown when you realize who it is, and even more so when you register that stupid pet name. "I'm relieved to see you made it through the second game."

Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff; "let's hope I make it through the third." The insinuation is made clear as you raise a brow at the blue 'O' patch on his sweater.

Thanos only grins. "Even though you're an 'X', I still promise to keep you safe." He winks, taking a step closer to you. "All you have to do is let me."

You huff; "I'm good, thanks."

"Aweh, come on, beautiful," he smirks, wrapping an arm around your shoulder before you can pull away. "You can trust me. I would've last game too if you'd give me the chance. In fact, I tried to find you for the last game but you'd already surrounded yourself with all those old men."

You roll your eyes. "I'd choose them over you anyday."

"You wound me," Thano pouts, clutching at his heart. Still, the glee in his eyes in undeniable. "How about this? You sit with me for dinner, I'll convince you I'm not such a bad guy."

Astonished at his relentlessness, your lips part to respond, but before you can, a voice cuts you off;

"She's already got friends to sit with."

You turn your head to find Dae-ho, him moving to stand right next to you. His hand falls on your shoulder in a reassuring touch, sending you a gentle smile before frowning over at Thanos. Behind, you can see Gi-hun and Young-il who are both watching the interaction closely. They've already got their dinners in their hands, clearly having stopped when they saw you and Thanos.

Already reassured by their presence, especially Young-il after you'd seen him take down both Thanos and Player 124 in seconds when they'd tried to attack Player 333, you turn back to glance at Thanos.

His face has faltered slightly at the sight of your group, but he doesn't back down.

"I'm sure the Senorita can speak for herself," Thanos challenges, smirking at you.

"She can," you cut in, confidence gained by Dae-ho and the rest. "And she says she doesn't want to sit with you either. Now, move. You're blocking the line."

Dae-ho lets out a barking laugh and before Thanos can say anything more, you're turning, shoving past him to move up the line.

Before Thanos would ever admit defeat, he smiles back at you, shrugging; "I'll get you to say yes, eventually!"

-

You're making your way back from the bathroom about thirty minutes later, on your own because you'd assured the boys you'd be okay on your own, when your wrist is grabbed.

Your lips part to let out a yelp, but any sound is quickly muffled by a hand pressed against your mouth.

You're tugged back, in between two sets of the beds, struggling in the grasp until the person who grabbed you stops. Their hands let go of you and you quickly spin, ready to defend yourself if need be, until your eyes catch sight of a familiar shade of purple.

"Thanos," you huff, shoulders relaxing slightly.

"Hey, baby," he grins, lips spread wide.

"What the hell," you hiss, shoving at him. "What is your problem?"

He has the audacity to shrug. "This is the only way I could get you alone to talk." For some reason, he takes that opportunity to brush back a strand of wild hair from your mild kidnapping he'd done, tucking it behind your ears with an odd gentleness.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you ignore the flutter of your heart. "And?" You question, shaking your head. "Still doesn't give you the right to grab me like that."

"I wanted to know your name," he grins, winking at you.

Your lips part. "You wanted to know my name?"

He nods.

"What exactly is the point of all of this?" You huff, shaking your head in frustration. "This is the third time you've bothered me. I thought I made the way I felt clear at the beginning."

"You did," he agrees, "I'm choosing to ignore it."

You blink, stunned. The actual audacity of this man.

"You're ignoring my rejection?"

"Yup," he nods, popping the 'p'.

"You're insufferable," you shake your head. "I don't want anything to do with someone who would willingly choose to stay in these horrible games. Not to mention, have fun playing them."

Thanos laughs, "I'm here for the same reason as you, baby. I need the money," he shrugs, holding his hands by his side as if in innocence as he pronounces 'money' in english. "Nothing wrong with trying to make the most of it. That includes learning your name."

"You're sick," you scoff, "I saw you push those two in the first game! You're the reason they're dead."

"As if they wouldn't have died on their own," Thanos rolls his eyes. "Besides, I'd never do that to you. I told you, didn't I? I'll keep you safe."

"You think that makes it okay?"

"Of course."

Shaking your head, you push away from him, turning your back to him. "Just leave me alone, Thanos. I want nothing to do with someone like you."

You walk away without looking back, unaware of the gaze that follows you.

-

"Hey, Senorita!"

Pausing in your conversation with Young-il and Gi-hun, you freeze, slowly turning your head over your shoulder to meet Thanos' gaze.

He's stood with his friends, Player 124 glaring at you from behind him, with a wide grin and those same wild eyes that made it clear he wasn't sober. You feel your shoulders tense, all too aware of your groups eyes watching the interaction between the two of you.

"If you need a group to join, I'll always be here!" He calls, pointing his finger right at you as he winks.

Swallowing thickly, you turn, choosing to ignore him.

All the boys look at you, waiting for you to say something. You do, just not about Thanos, eager to move on from Thanos' embarrassing and loud flirt.

"If they call about five, we just need to find people...-"

-

You'd gotten separated from Dae-ho.

Somewhere in the midst of running to a room, you'd been knocked to the ground by someone. They'd shoved past you without a single thought to you, and then the crowd of those desparate and panicked had separated you from your friend further.

Now, with tears in your eyes and your heart racing, you're frantically trying to find him or at least one of your friends, all whilst too aware of the time ticking away by the second.

It occurs to you that this might be it. That fall had been hard and your ankle was screaming something terrible right now. Even if you did find Dae-ho, you're not sure you could make it to him or a room in time.

The tears fall then, the seconds feel like agony and far too quick at the same time as you shake with the reality of your situation.

At least, what would've been your situation.

In the next second, a body crashes into you again, except instead of knocking you to the ground, you feel your feet lifted off the ground. A yelp leaves your lips in response, arms pulling you in a chest, confused, before you realize you're being hurdled right into a room.

The person who'd grabbed you was quick and suddenly, you're on your feet, in a room, with Thanos.

He shuts the door behind him and it locks instantly after.

He's panting, chest rising and falling as he turns to look at you, and you're just staring back at him with tears streaming down your cheeks and in disbelief. The echoes of gun shots that follow barely register in your mind as you meet his gaze.

"You saved me..." You breathe, stunned, voice a mere breathless whisper.

"I told you," he pants, offering a winded grin. "I'll keep you safe. I meant it."

The realization that it had in fact been Thanos that saved you is hard to believe and yet, you're faced with the true as he turns back to glance out the small window of the door.

"In the nick of time too," he laughs, somehow still overjoyed and finding humour in this situation. "I thought you and me were both dead there for a second."

Swallowing thickly, you hug yourself, still shaking and trembling from the situation as you shuffle on the spot. The action immediately pulls a cry from your lips as you stumble forward, tipping head first to the ground.

Thanos catches you before you fall.

"Wow," he chuckles, "you okay there, Senorita?"

The pet name that had annoyed you this entire time suddenly is annoying in a whole different way when you realize you wished it had been your name he'd said instead.

And that thought has you reeling even more.

"F-Fine," you wince, grabbing his arms that hold you. "I twisted my ankle when I got separated from...-oh no! Dae-ho! I didn't see if he he made it!"

The smile fades from Thanos face briefly at the mention of Dae-ho, still he helps you steady yourself and shakes his head. "Saw him get pulled into another room. He's fine. You're the one hurt."

Your face twists at that; "it's not his fault."

Thanos turns his face away, "never said it was."

It's clear he thinks it is.

You just huff, using his arms to help keep you upright. "I'm fine. It's just a twist."

Thanos eyes flicker to your ankle. "You can't walk."

Your lips part to say something, but just then the door clicks as it unlocks. You and Thanos spare one more glance at each other, before he's stepping forward to open the door, keeping an arm around your waist to help you walk out. You let him, trying to ignore the warmth in your chest at the action, limping out beside him.

Instantly, you hear your name being called.

You turn, seeing Dae-ho with Jung-bae, Gi-hun and Young-il in turn. There's a relieved smile on the formers lips and the rest look just as relieved.

"Thank God you're okay!"

You grin at them, forgetting who you're with for a second as you turn to them. "I'm glad you're okay too! When we got separated I wasn't sure..."

"I found Gi-hun," Dae-ho explains. "He hadn't been able to find a partner when Young-il, Jung-bae, you and me went off of our own. I tried to find you but..."

Nodding at them, you gesture to your partner. "Thanos found me," you explain, smiling nervously. "He... Well, he saved me. I wouldn't have survived otherwise."

The four of them look positively stunned but Thanos is beaming at the praise.

"Got my reward for it already too," Thanos smirks from beside you, pulling you closer. "Learned your name as well.., Reader."

He wiggles his brows at you and instantly, your cheeks warm. Leaning back from him, you shuffle back and to your surprise, he lets you slide out of his grip. Dae-ho is quick to help you, wrapping his arm around your waist like Thanos had whilst your group takes cautionary steps in front of you.

Just then, Player 124 comes bounding towards him.

"Thanos!"

With one final look your way, Thanos winks; "talk to you later, Reader." And with that, he walks off, joining Player 124's side as they laugh loudly in the otherwise gloom room.

All four turn to you, but you're too stunned to even begin explaining.

That, and you can't get rid of the fluttering race of your heart.

[oikarma]

xoxo, gossip girl

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: you kind of popped into lando's life out of nowhere-and he loves it. but there's no such thing as being private when you're dating a formula one driver. sorry, did i say dating? i mean when you're friends.

a/n: yay first smau of the year and the second driver i'm writing for! i started watching gossip girl recently n i was inspired

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liked by alex_albon and 128,407 others

f1gossipofficial: mclaren's lando norris was spotted out and about in the big apple last night with a mystery girl!

view all 6,353 comments

user1: uh oh magui's going to be mad...

user2: ngl thought that was her at first user3: they got back together AGAIN?? user1: @/user3 someone posted a vid of them partying

user4: alex being messy in the likes LMAOOO

user5: aww did he give her his hoodie in p1

user6: such a gentleman 😍 user7: THATS WHAT I THOUGHT user8: girl be fr he's nothing compared to osc

user9: lando stick to one girl at a time will you

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yourinstagram has added to their stories

replies:

hannahstjohn: i bet you're glad i convinced you to get dinner w me that day 👅

yourinstagram: oh shush i had to sit through two hours of you and liam gazing into each other's eyes. DISGUSTING. hannahstjohn: please. don't act like you even looked at anyone other than him

yourbff: regular dates now i see...

yourinstagram: we're just friends!!

lando: i learned for you 🥺

yourinstagram: liar lando: hello?? yourinstagram: you literally told me the other day you used to do your sister's hair lando: maybe i lied yourinstagram: well you definitely did at some point

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liked by hannahstjohn and 203,991 others

f1gossipofficial: we think it's getting serious with y/n l/n, daughter of NYC-based tech mogul y/d/n l/n, and lando norris. rumor has it that they met through liam lawson and his girlfriend hannah. despite the newly promoted red bull driver lacking friends across the grid, norris is probably grateful for the introduction 😉

y/n and lando were spotted at not one, not two, but SIX different locations across new york in the past week. above is a compilation of photos fans have taken of them dining out, shopping, and even going to the opera together.

view all 10,274 comments

user1: grocery shopping?? do they live together already??

user2: sleazy af if they do user3: maybe they wanted to cook something together its not that deep

user4: what a golddigger...

user5: how is she a gold digger user4: @/user5 did you not see how she dressed for the opera? probably his money she spent on that dress user6: the way people r so illiterate and yet so confident drive me crazy IT LITERALLY SAYS HER DAD IS A TECH MOGUL user7: i don't even know what a mogul is but it sounds rich user8: @/user6 right and if you just googled her dad you'd figure his sister was the one owns the brand she's wearing 💀

user9: the way he looks at her in p1 though

user10: wonder how long they've known each other 🤔

user11: hannah we see you

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lando has added to their stories

replies:

user1: LANDO DID YOU POST ON THE WRONG ACC

oscarpiastri: mate

lando: 🥺 yes osc? oscarpiastri: lily says this is why you've been in NYC for so long lando: idk lily's always right oscarpiastri: you said it was for a brand deal! lando: maybe her dad wants to sponsor mclaren lando: actually forget about that i think he already does 💀 oscarpiastri: i don't like talking to you on instagram text me lando: what if i don't. lando: hello???

mclaren: so cute!

lando: HI ADMIN

maxverstappen: someone's been busy

yourinstagram: what happened to being private 😭 now they definitely think we're dating

lando: sorry i didn't know it was such a bad thing yourinstagram: at least my fake boyfriend is a lot of people's celebrity crush yourinstagram: can't be ruining my image

user2: LANDO ARE YOU STALKING THE #LANDOYN TAG ON TWITTER?? HOW DID YOU FIND THAT??

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liked by scuderiaferrari, redbullracing, and 1,913,500 others

f1: lovely seeing all of you at the o2 ❤️ we hope you enjoyed the livery reveals! one week until pre-season testing begins in bahrain.

view all 253,014 comments

user1: admin you know what you're doing with that pic of lando

user2: missing him and yn *liked by f1 user2: f1 a landoyn stan confirmed?

user3: eh liveries, great articles about max trying to get out of going

user4: alexandra the prettiest wag

user5: yn appearance when 😔 did anyone see how he looked around for her then stopped bcs he remembered she wasn't there

user6: I KNEW I WASN'T CRAZY

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yourinstagram has added to their stories

replies:

lando: did me so dirty with that pic

yourinstagram: shh you look adorable lando: adorable AND pretty? you flatter me yourinstagram: don't get used to it

yourbff: "friends"

yourinstagram: but you're my best friend 😋 yourbff: cause he's more than a friend where is your media literacy

hannahstjohn: I SAW HIM CALLING YOU BACKSTAGE

yourinstagram: so did everyone else it seems hannahstjohn: whoever runs the f1 account loves wag appearances🤷‍♀️

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lando has added to their stories 🔁 yourinstagram's story

replies:

oscarpiastri: are you sure you don't like her

oscarpiastri: sorry i meant are you sure you're not in love with each other lando: you know i think she might fancy me a little oscarpiastri: a little?? lando: im not sure how i feel about her though oscarpiastri: the cameras literally caught you blushing on call lando: ARE YOU SERIOUS oscarpiastri: yeah admin outed you oscarpiastri: they tagged you

user1: posted her on main again aww

yourinstagram: im not even complaining

lando: am i that charming yourinstagram: no i just look great in that photo yourinstagram: y/n l/n, absolute baddie who bagged what's his name norris lando: ☹️ yourinstagram: its okay your fangirls still love you

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liked by oscarpiastri, f1, and 330,217 others

mclaren: lando when y/n calls him (for legal reasons we can't repost that clip until f1 posts it but you know which one we're talking about 🤐)

tagged: lando

view all 57,341 comments

user1: admin you're so brave * liked by mclaren

f1: it's okay we won't rat you out

mclaren: thanks bestie!

user2: oscar crying in the club because his boyfriend is in love with someone else

user3: @/oscarpiastri would you like to comment user4: he's been crying since jan prob

lando: admin i am literally going to hunt you down

oscarpiastri: he follows the landoyn tag on twitter lando: @/oscarpiastri HELLO??? mclaren: he said it not me user5: they're so chaotic

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bahrain

you saw him get out of his car, landing evenly on the ground. you looked at oscar, who gave you a small nudge. "go on, he doesn't know it yet."

"what if he doesn't-"

"then he's a dickhead for leading you on." you liked his bluntness. it was a change from how polite he normally was. and it showed just how strongly he believed it.

you nodded, then strode forward. you could hear the cameras turning, but it didn't matter. lando had taken off his helmet, and his back was to you as he talked to his race engineer.

it was now or never. you gave him a small tap on the shoulder. he whirled around so fast you almost toppled backwards. realizing it was you, his hands shot out and wrapped around your waist. "y/n? oh my god."

you gave him a shy smile, wrapping your arms around him. "told you it was good."

he buried his face in your neck, embracing you so tight you didn't know if he was capable of letting go. eventually, he did.

"so what did you have to tell me?"

you blinked at him slowly. "try to guess."

his eyes widened, as if a hope had come into him. "you won't laugh?"

a shake of your head. "promise."

"then-" he bit his lip, looking down for a minute. "do you like me, like that?"

"what are we, in grade school?" you deadpanned. you saw his heart plummet, then wanted to take back your words. "yes, lando. yes, i came all this way just to see your stupid face. yes, i like you. like that. like i can't get your smile out of my head and i'll stay up until 5 just to watch you hold an award. like i'll respond to you any time, because talking to you is-"

he raised one of his hands ever so slightly so he could pull you closer, so close his lips were on yours and you were cut off mid-sentence. you'd been waiting for this since you'd met him, you realized. since you'd first seen that curly mop of hair at dinner with liam and hannah. since the first time he'd laughed and you realized you'd never heard a prettier sound.

"i like you like that too."

and the cameras caught all that, words and kiss and pictures and all, but it was different. this was something you wanted to remember.

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liked by yourinstagram and 1,504,891 others

lando: a great end to pre-season testing, all thanks to my lucky charm 🤍

tagged: yourinstagram

view all 94,102 comments

yourinstagram: me fr -> 🍀

yourinstagram: (get it. FOUR leaf clover) lando: i literally worship the ground you walk on lando: you're the reason i believe in fate yourinstagram: woah slow down there buddy user1: i'm so single its not okay user2: they're basically a married couple already

mclaren: your team in the garage rn like 🧍‍♀️🧍

lando: love you guys too! user3: @/mclaren f1 account alr posted kiss why have you not 😡 mclaren: @/user3 we're carefully selecting the cutest ones

hannahstjohn: lando norris and his "friend"

yourinstagram: IM STUPID OKAY hannahstjohn: can't believe it took you that long

user4: hes so happy 🥹

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liked by lando and 919,501 others

yourinstagram: by your side 🖤

view all 71,440 comments

tagged: lando

lando: baby where'd all your posts go ☹️

yourinstagram: oh i forgot to add you to my close friends lando: is that because we're more than just friends yourinstagram: no i just forgot user1: HELPP

user2: hottest WAG on the grid

oscarpiastri: i'm sure you'll take good care of him

yourinstagram: scout's honor 🫡

user3: okay her dress is so pretty though where's it from

yourinstagram: my aunt's brand! (brandname) <3 user3: @/yourinstagram OMG TYSM QUEEN

user4: she finally made her acc public AHH does this mean landoyn content

lewishamilton: lovely meeting you, y/n

yourinstagram: 🤩 you too lewis!!! lando: you're such a fan. yourinstagram: you're just jealous