#the watch belongs to someone--does she meet him?

[spicy30]

Modernness of 1400s 005

Pairing: HOTD x Fem!Modern!Reader

Extra: The reader is noted to be bilingual (Spanish speaking) and is familiar with the majority of Latin-based languages, No use of Y/N

cw: Little bit of smut (It's like 5 paragraphs long)

Rating: 18+

Not proofread

Tags: @fan-goddess @meowmeowmothermeower @bunxia @your-favorite-god @coolalienstatesmansports @qwerrtsworld @wegottastayfocus @dakota-rain666 @talilosha @the-deep-dark-abyss @101crows @agustdeeyaaa @ggglich-exe @illjhhlisa

WC: 13.1K

“You were out awfully late,” Aegon spoke as he stood up straight. “And that doesn’t belong to you.” He looked down towards your attire, more specifically your coat.

“And this is none of your business.” You gave a bitter smile as you went to open your door. However, before you could enter inside Aegon grabbed your arm.

“You smell like a Dragon, who were you out with?” Damn! Someone had taken you to see the Dragons before Aegon. He wondered if you let them have their way with you. 

“Like I said, it doesn’t concern you. Now let me go, Aegon.” To your surprise he did.

“You know, if you want to ride a bigger dragon I have one.” He smiled walking closer to you, smiling, pushing your hair back. 

“Really? How big?” Why you acted this way? You couldn’t say. Perhaps it was the dull ache that was starting to form in between your legs. One that had been present since your ride back to King’s Landing.

“Bigger than the one you just had, I can promise you that.” He smiled down towards you and you gave one back. 

“Does it have a name?” You looked down to his lips then back towards him and he grinned.

��Sunfyre.” He whispered out leaning down to meet you.

You leaned forward. “That’s a cute name…”

“Once I show you, I promise you won’t think it’s just ‘cute.’” He went to capture your lips but you turned away at the last second and instead of your lips he kissed your cheek. 

“Well goodnight to you too Aegon. I look forward to meeting Sunfyre.” You pulled away with a smile and closed the doors of your chambers. 

You took off the sweater and to your surprise (and slight annoyance), Dyana was still in your room. “Have you been here all day?” You asked with a flat smile. She nodded with a book in her hands. You had taken to showing her how to read. “Poor thing, have you eaten?” She shook her head. 

“Me neither, why don’t you go to the kitchen, have them prepare whatever you’d like plus my fruits and vegetables washed with boiled water and have another maid prep me for a bath. I reek of dragon.” You sighed putting Jacaerys sweater on a chair. Dyana bowed and seemed hesitant to walk out. She was worried that Aegon would see her. He had been outside your door nearly all day since you left. 

“If you’re worried about anyone seeing you, just tell them I sent you.” You spoke, sending her out looking around oblivious to the dilemma the girl faced around Aegon. 

It wasn’t long before a bath was prepared and you eagerly took off your clothes and dipped into the hot water. As you scrubbed yourself Dyana entered with the plate of food. “Eat first girl then feed me once I’m done bathing.” You scrubbed yourself. As you did you paused to think and looked over towards Dyana. There she was watching you yet it did nothing to shame you for the dull ache that grew stronger with every moment you spent in this bathtub. 

Deciding against dinner you sent her away as you made your way out of the tub drying yourself trying to distract yourself. The man was promised to someone else. Though, clearly by his reactions…you smiled over towards his coat and ran your hands along the inside of it. You took in the scent and it only served to increase your want for him. 

You sighed and turned away from the coat. You didn’t want to grow desprate. Desperation makes poor decisions and here poor decisions can cost your life. 

Despite this your…desperation was still ever present. 

Dyana returned once more, taking the final bowl and right outside you saw the solution to your desperation. 

Aemond Targaryen.

You gave a slow blink as your mind fogged with that familiar feeling. After all, you did promise to show him your invention.

…

As Aemond was walking back to his chambers with a book in hand he heard a familiar saccharine voice calling him. 

“Prince Aemond Targaryen.” There you stood peeking from behind your doors with a relaxed smile. “I finished my little invention and you’re the first person to see, as promised.” 

Against his better judgment, he turned around walking closer to you and the sweet smell you always seemed to carry. There was no one in sight other than your maid who had left moments before you called his name. He saw your hand extend to him and he took it and felt you pull him inside your chambers. He looked at you in your robes before looking away to observe your room.

It was clean and smelled quite sweet, how you had gotten it to smell so sweet he couldn’t say. If he kept his doors closed it would just smell like candle wax but your room smelled so unbelievably sweet mixed with something else he couldn’t name. 

He looked towards your desk and on it sat a paper filled with equations and letters. 

“Curious?” You mumbled behind him and he observed the paper trying to piece together the equation but no matter how long he looked at it, he couldn’t understand. 

“What is this?” He asked and watched your hand come from behind him and suddenly he noticed just how close you were to him. He watched you finger-track the problem as you whined about how it was something that had kept you cooped up in your room. It was only as he trailed your nimble finger that he saw you had long white nails. It was unusual, but they looked very appealing. 

He turned around and looked down towards you and caught the sight of the valley that ran in between your breasts and for the first time Aemond took time to asses the situation you had pulled him into. He took in a deep breath in attempts to calm himself though it served no use as all he inhaled was the sweet scent you emitted.

Aemond was not blind despite the lack of an eye, he could very much see the way you had his older brother trailing after you ever since the night he danced with you. You were very different from any other woman here and you liked to play games, even if they did get you in trouble. He was just your latest plaything. Did he mind? Maybe not. You were a very different woman than who took him when he was thirteen. He was no longer a boy, but a man with a very pretty woman in front of him. He stepped closer to you seeing just how far you were willing to commit to your game.

You stepped away from him. It seemed like you weren’t one to commit. “Come I promised that you would be the first.” Whether the implication was there or not Aemond chose to take it more than its face value. 

You turned to him as he followed you and suddenly that lustful gaze he swore he saw in you was gone instead replaced with that same innocent smile when you told him that it was you who injured his uncle. “I call it a fan, though the longer name is pedestal fan.” Aemond moved past you to feel the cool air it gave though it made no sound.

It spun at fast speeds and he turned to you with a furrowed brow. “How is it moving?” How did a woman such as yourself figure out such a curious invention? Aemond had kept small tabs on you ever since you had made your little splash with Daemon. While it was common knowledge that you had helped his father’s health greatly, he did discover that you now seemed invaluable to his grandsire and mother. 

“Physics.” You answered in a smooth tone looking up towards him, the uncomfortable feeling in between your legs becoming more apparent by the minute.

“Physics?” Aemond questioned. Was it another one of your words that you seemingly made up? Aemond had spent the better part of his life researching all kinds of things but never read about ‘physics.’

“More specifically Newton’s laws of motion.” You sauntered away from him and Aemond followed you. 

“Laws of motion,” Aemond whispered out trying to recall if he had read anything about.

“You haven’t read about it, it doesn’t exist here yet.” You spoke with a smug smile on your face while you leaned back and he gave a better view of the cleavage of your breasts. “The laws of course have been here since the beginning of time, but they aren’t named until the year of 1666 and not published till 1687.” You smiled standing straight and walking towards him. “Do you want to take a glimpse into the future Aemond?” You purred out and if it wasn’t the lust haze in your mind, you would’ve renamed the laws right then and there after yourself. 

Aemond found himself nodding. A familiar fog was beginning to fill his mind and his breeches were getting tighter on him by the minute. 

“The law I used to make my little invention is inertia, or in other words the first law of motion.” You trailed your fingers on his chest picking at the straps of his coat until they came apart and he slipped it off leaving him in his shift and breeches. Aemond made quick work of his shoes and his hands went to the belt that kept your robe together. 

“The first law states that every object will remain at rest or in uniform motion in a straight line unless compelled to change its state by the action of an external force.” You spoke in a smooth voice and pushed him away and he fell on your bed. You walked forward and slowly the knot on your belt began to undo itself. “This tendency to resist changes in a state of motion is inertia. So can you tell me who was the external force and who was the object forced to move?” 

The concept was fairly simple but Aemond’s mind was clouded with you and what was to come next. You stopped walking looking at him expectantly. “I thought you said you wanted to learn?” 

“You were the external force and I was the object forced to move when you pushed me.” He breathed out quickly. You smiled and nodded, holding his face with your hand. “Such a smart boy. Maybe you are the smart one after all,” Aemond nodded looking up toward you as his hands moved to undo his breeches and slid them down letting himself free. 

“The Second Law: Force.” You straddled him carefully to not let him slip into you and to only have him resting against your folds. He groaned bucking upwards and you breathed heavily as it hit your clit. “The…acceleration of an object…” You breathed trying to get your sentence out trying to keep him from moving. “Depends on the mass of the object… and the amount of force applied. You wanna tell me the equation?” 

“I-” He groaned as you moved forward ever so slightly. “I do not know.” 

“Yes you do, come one. Force is defined by a change-!” Your breath hitched as you tried to not let your moan out as he thrusted forward once more hitting your clit. “In momentum which is just mass by…velocity per change in time. So what’s the equation?” 

Aemond breathed hard as you moved yourself back and forth on him. “I- I do not-!” You reached down to squeeze the head of his manhood and he nearly moaned. 

“Come on force…” You breathed out looking down towards him. 

“Force…” He spoke with his eyes closed as he held your hips trying to stop himself from bucking upwards.

“Equals mass…” You grabbed his face forcing him to look at you. His eye was looked towards you then down where your hand held him and you moved slightly back and forth. 

“Equals mass…” Aemond only repeated what you said not understanding a single word you said.

“Multiplied by acceleration.” You finished and let go of him letting him rut against your clit and leaned down biting his shoulder hiding your moans while Aemond kept desperately moving. 

He removed to remove his shift leaving him bare before you while your robe remained covering you. 

You pushed his hip down to stop him from moving anymore. “The Third and Final Law…” You breathed out trying to catch your breath. “Action,” Aemond opened your robes looking at your naked figure, and watched your nipples harden from the sudden temperature change. “And Reaction.” You smiled down towards him but Aemond was lost looking at your breasts. He leaned upwards taking one in his mouth, biting a bit and you arched your back into him. He groaned as he kept your breast in his mouth then took the other in his hand kneading it like they were his own toys. 

You pushed his head away from you and you saw a string of saliva as he let go.

“Whenever one object exerts a force on a second object…” You tried to push him down but he didn’t move instead keeping you snug against him and your breast was squished against his face. “The second object exerts an equal and opposite force on the first.” You spoke with a smile on your face.

He pulled you down to kiss him. As you did you bit his lip and he opened his mouth in surprise and you pulled away smiling. You rocked your hips and once more he pulled you down to kiss you muffling his groans and your moans. The knot in your stomach became tighter as he keeps rutting into you. You both breathed in as you stayed impossibly close to him, your foreheads touching as you moved your hips and he cantered upwards. You dug your nails into his back and bit down on his shoulder hard to muffle your moans as the knot in your stomach became undone. You got off him as he finished himself off using his hand while you watched.

He finished and it spurted on his stomach and you watched it soften as he fell back onto your bed and smiled. 

“Be honest…” You struggled to catch your breath. “Am I a good teacher?” You grinned and he looked over with a smirk on his face as he struggled to catch his breath. “Your examples could use some work,” Aemond said, taking in the sight of your naked body. 

  “Is that so? I’ll keep it in mind the next time I teach these laws.” You grinned and grabbed your hair using it to pull you forward to capture your lip in a kiss. 

“No one else has to learn these laws,” He spoke before he gave a quick chaste kiss.

You pulled away with a brow lifted. “These are very important laws, it is imperative that all learn.” 

“Your teaching methods I’m afraid wouldn’t suit others.” He spoke pulling your hair while he left marks on collar bones. 

You laughed letting him leave his marks. Not like you couldn’t cover them up anyway.

…

“If one parent has brown eyes and the other has blue eyes, the children have a fifty percent chance of inheriting brown eyes which is heterozygous b, and a fifty percent chance of blue eyes which is homozygous recessive b.” You muttered out as you calculated the problem. After two weeks you had finally reached Rhaenyra’s possible genetic code along with Laenor’s. In this problem it was assumed that dark eyes were dominant over the blue eyes Rhaenerya had.

You resumed working on the dreadful problem not long after you told Aemond to leave your chambers. It would be a bad look if he left in the morning. You felt regret creeping up on you as you looked towards your messy bed sheets. 

“Oh god.” You whispered, covering your face with your hands. What have you done? That wasn’t supposed to happen, that wasn’t you. Last night couldn’t have been you. You refused to acknowledge what you had done. 

A knock sounded at the door and you looked up to see Dyana coming in with your breakfast and the bowls of water you had every morning to clean your face and brush your teeth. Getting up you went to do your usual morning routine.

“Dyana, take the sheets to be washed and have a bath ordered for me.” You told her as you spat into the bowl. 

“M’lady, they were washed yesterday. The soap is harsh on the clothes…” Dyana shut up when she saw your unamused face before she nodded, taking apart the bed and taking the sheets to go have them washed.

Dyana left you standing alone in your room and you turned around to face your fan. “You made me do something I’m not proud of.” You lectured your fan. It was stupid what you did. He was a Prince, and while technically there was no…“insertion”…that didn’t rid that chance of you of something unplanned happening. You could NOT have that happening, not here, never here. All this was supposed to be is to have a little fun playing with them then leave them all behind to become the greatest figure of history ever.

You walked into the separate room where they had your bathtub filled with hot water and your soap nearby. Stepping into the hot water you hissed out as your body became used to the temperature. As you sat in the bathtub you hugged your knees thinking about your poor actions. You would swear off no more boys in your room but you had one coming over tonight. 

“That's not gonna happen again.” You reassured yourself. No funny business would happen with Jacaerys. You were just going to surprise him and be done. That was it, nothing more. 

“Shame.” It was all you said before you submerged yourself into the water. Maybe if you stayed under long enough you’d wake up in a hospital room and this would all be a dream. Who knew this could bring you so much shame and guilt. 

Alas when you went up for air you did not wake up surrounded by white walls of a hospital. You looked to the side and there was a maid you didn’t recognize. 

“Apologies my lady, his grace, King Viserys calls for you.” She spoke as she held out your bathrobe and once more you were reminded of the events that transpired the night before. 

“It is early, did he say what he wanted?” You asked about putting on the robe. 

“No.” It was all she said before she began drying you so that you would slip into the dress easily. The maid’s eyes went to your collar bone which bore deep purple marks courtesy of Aemond. You muttered a small curse as you covered yourself up. 

“Would you like me to fetch you a high neck dress?” The maid murmured as she picked up the dress that was laid on your bed. It was a dark green dress with an off-the-shoulder neckline with a structured bodice. You touched the material and shook your head. It would look suspicious if you wore a covering dress when it was so hot and you famously didn’t mind showing skin. “My lady you will be seeing the King and such marks…” The maid trailed off. 

“What marks?” You spoke as you dropped your robes ready to be dressed. Soon enough the hickies would be covered and no one would be none the wiser. 

The maid stayed silent as she dressed you and you looked at the deep purple marks that littered your chest by the rusted mirror on your dresser. Once you were dressed you told the maid to leave as you pulled out your makeup to cover the hickies. With a little contour you accentuated your collar bones and then you got to work on your actual face. It would be best if you had everyone looking towards your exposed chest to confirm for themselves that nothing was there if the maid was stupid enough to gossip about this. 

Once you were ready you dabbed some perfume before slipping on slippers that were provided for you and made your way to the King. As you walked the halls you saw lingering gazes, there was no way new could spread that fast, could it? Either way it seemed best if you paraded yourself around today so that they could confirm with their own eyes that there was absolutely nothing on your chest. 

This news couldn’t reach Alicent or Otto. Being out with Jacaerys was one thing, but knowing you had a little too much fun that was deemed appropriate with her son and his grandson. Well that wouldn’t be good. 

Entering the King’s Chamber you bowed greeting both the King and to your surprise Alicent was there as well.

“The lavender works, but I require something stronger.” Viserys told you as Alicent stood beside him. 

Stronger? Did he want opioids? Did he get addicted to the milk? “Stronger?”

“I find myself riddled with stress as of late. With my brother and my daughter and of course I have been told there have been incidents with my children and grandchildren. It is nice to have my family reunited however, a certain level of stress does return. I plan to return to ruling and of course that also carries its own stress. Would you know of anything to…reduce this stress.” Viserys spoke in a surprisingly even tone. The change between him and two weeks ago was very remarkable.  

You cracked your head for anything that would help but you came up empty handed. What it sounded like was that he wanted drugs. Hell you wanted some too, with this latest scandal that was sure to occur and that damn problem that seemed to carry a result that would not be good for your conscience. You wanted something to take the edge off. What you needed was some- You smiled as an idea popped in your head. “I think I might have something. I’d have to make a trip to wherever is most humid. If I can find it, I think it could help.” 

“The river lands. They are plenty humid, should I arrange a carriage for your trip?” Alicent spoke looking over to her hand maid ready to order her. 

“Is there anything…faster? I would rather not risk leaving for long lest the King need me.” You spoke looking to Viserys. Hopefully you could ride on dragonback. You rather enjoyed yesterday ignoring everything that it led to. 

“Yes, you’re right, dragonback would be fastest.” Viserys pointed. 

“My King, who would take her?” Alicent argued. You were a fine girl in Alicent’s mind, but to have her sons alone with you, much less Aegon who was so clearly pinning after you. It was not something you would enjoy. 

“Mayhaps Aegon or Aemond.” Viserys spoke and your lips pursed. You’d rather a more…neutral party. Aegon was ever eager to be with you and you hadn’t even sought out Aemond since this morning when he left. “Helena enjoys riding as well.” Viserys spoke and you perked up. 

Yes, another woman would be fine company.

“What of the twins?” Alicent asked. Honestly she would prefer you leave on horseback. 

“We would be gone at most for two to four days. It won’t take me long to survey from the skies.” You desperately did not want to by carriage. No pain-killers or anything to take for motion sickness. No thank you.

“Yes and Heleana is quite fond of insects. Helaena will take you.” Viserys agreed and Alicent remained silent as she looked at you. Normally Rhaenerya would be the only one Viserys would hear above her, but now here you stood with a smile on your face standing tall wearing one of the dresses she gifted you. The dress of a Queen. 

Alicent watched you go. As you left and the door closed there she saw Larys Strong as he limped by looking directly at her. She gave a small sigh as the door closed leaving her with her husband.

…

“I hear the lady has taken a lover. Many guards claim they saw her come late into the castle last night and a maid claims that she had the marks only a lover could make this morning.” A voice whispered. 

“I saw her only a moment ago entering the King’s chambers. She bore no such marks. The neckline of the dress was deep and I looked.” A second one whispered out. 

“You think the maid lies?” The first gasped out.

“May the Seven forgive me but the lady is a crone! She never leaves her chambers unless she is summoned by the King, how could she have a lover? Who would be her lover?” The second responded with a little laugh. 

“The lady still arrived late last night.” The first reason. 

“She has left the castle many times with Prince Aemond and do you remember what everyone said then? That the prince was her lover when in fact she only left to buy steel. If she did have a lover would she not request moontea?” The second continued.

“She is a strange woman. Mayhaps she does not need it because she is barren or has her own brew. If she can heal the King, she can kill a babe in her womb.” The first huffed out and the second one gasped at the idea. 

Jacaerys stayed still listening as the maids spoke about you. He had heard the rumors that Aemond was your lover quite a while ago, though they proved unfounded. Though he did feel guilt start pooling in his stomach when he was responsible for your late arrival last night. Did people think he was your lover? That thought made him smile even though no one knew it was he who was responsible for your late arrival.

He had not come out unscathed either. His brother, Luke, had caught him on his way back to his room which at the time he was rather eager to get to. Luke would not stop teasing him about you, but was quick to remind him that he was promised to Baela. Jacaerys liked Baela, both he and she would make a nice pairing and keep the lineage of the Dragon within Valyrian blood. 

That's why Jacaerys was torn on going to your chambers tonight or to simply leave this as it is before it is too late to go back. You were not from here. He understood that. Not when you spoke of all these things that he had never heard of. You were smart, smarter than the average woman, and certainly smarter than any educated woman he had met. What so many Maesters had failed to do, you did in two weeks. Your mannerisms, your accent, your stance, your unwillingness to bend to the social norms of this world. You were just so different, and Jacaerys doesn’t think there is any other place that can foster a person such as you. Dorne is the only place he can think of, but yet Dorne does not have ‘barbie’ or ‘cars’ and all the other things you mentioned.

Dornish women were taught to wield weapons yet you did not seem familiar with swords or knives. In fact you did not seem accustomed to fighting and what you did to Daemon (Which he found out through gossip) seemed more like a stroke of luck than you seemingly knowing how to fight.

Could he go? Maybe if you had said that you wanted to leave. Maybe if he had known that you weren’t going to stay here. Just maybe he’d follow in his mother’s footsteps in her youth. (He heard from Daemon) 

Maybe he shouldn’t be in the West Wing. Maybe he shouldn't knock. Maybe he shouldn’t accept your hand so easily as you pulled him in. Maybe he shouldn’t relish the smell of you that was so potent in your room. Maybe he should start taking off his shift. 

Maybe it was already too late.

“What are you doing? Where are your clothes at?” You asked with a lifted brow.

“I thought…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Uh…no. Unfortunately that is not happening.” You laughed out looking at him. (Had he done this last night it would’ve been a very different story) 

Jacaerys took in a deep breath turning around though he doubts that did much to cover the pink that was coating his neck and back and was reaching his face. “Then what is the surprise?” He asked as soon as he put his shift back on.  

“You don’t think I have anything else to offer other than my body?” You asked with a lifted brow looking him up and down with a judgmental look.

“No. That was not my intention. I only meant-” He moved his hands trying to explain himself.  

“Relax, I’m joking.” You smiled but then paused. “Partially.” Was all you said as you pulled out a small black box and crawled on your bed beckoning him in. 

“Are you sure my lady?” This was most improper. An unmarried man with an unmarried woman together alone in one’s chamber room. Even worse, on the bed. He watched you sit upright on the bed. At the very least you wore the breeches he first saw you in and what looked like the top half of your nightgown. 

“Do you want to see the surprise or not? Remember I was really confident I’d win. It’d be a shame if you didn’t see.” Jacaerys pursed his lips thinking over what you said before giving a small nod and cautiously laying on your bed. Their sheets smelled freshly washed, a small pang of disappointment hit. Why? He couldn’t say or more so, he wouldn’t. 

“Okay see you guys have dragons. Now I can say those never existed where I came from, but it was thought they did. Turns out, they were just dinosaurs.” You explained with a smile on your face. You seemed quite excited to show him your surprise and he found himself smiling along with you awaiting for you to show him.

“Now at first, I am not gonna lie, I was playing to low-ball you with some music, but you went all out showing off your dragon. So I’m gonna show you what the closest thing we have to that is.” You grinned while nodding.

“Your surprise was music?” Jacaerys scoffed. Did you think they were brutes who didn’t even know what music was. He found himself feeling a little offended at your assumption. 

“No, not just any music. Music from where I come from. From what I know of, you all don’t do music like we do. Trust me, you’ve heard nothing like it.” You bragged and leaned on your pillows. “But alas we’re here for music, we’re here for dinosaurs. Jacaerys Valeryon, I’m introducing you to Jurassic World, where dinosaurs live amongst us.” You grinned and held a button on the black box and to his surprise it lit up. 

Now Jacaerys didn’t know what ‘dinosaurs’ were but if they were as interesting as the little box in your hand that lit up with a light, he was certainly looking forward to finding out. He found himself leaning in closer to look at the box which shone lightly. 

“Wait!” You dropped the box and went around blowing out every candle leaving the both of you in darkness except for the light that showed from the box. He saw you hop on the bed and crawl over to him and pick up the box. 

“This is a phone. Basically almost all the information in the world is on here. Everything I could ever want to know is here at the tips of my fingers.” You laid on the theatrics a bit heavy but, this needed to seem like the coolest thing he’s ever seen and ever will see because it is. 

“Right now? So you can ask anything and the phone…” It felt like saying it but Jacaerys continued. “Will you tell me?” It was such a small thing. How could anyone answer every question anyone has possibly been in there? 

“Well not right now, I don’t have a connection unfortunately, but in theory, yes. Anything, except for the future of course, but you could ask about anything ranging to how many stars there are in the sky.” You turned to look at the window before turning back to him as Jacaerys looked past you. You reached your hand out brushing a curl back. “To why your hair curls.” 

‘Smooth.’ You giggled to yourself. 

Jacaerys looked towards you longer than he should before turning his gaze down to the ‘phone.’ 

He saw you take it in your hands tapping on the front and it turned on once more showing numbers and smaller words that he wasn’t quick enough to read as you pulled your finger upwards. 

This time he was able to read it only as you hit numbers that were on the screen. It said ‘Enter Passcode’ The lettering was strange, it did not look like the lettering he was used to reading and writing. However, what surprised him more was the speed your fingers moved to type in your ‘passcode.’ He watched entrances as you moved your finger left and the images moved to the left. You pressed a symbol and then the screen and your screen went blue showing three letters: M, A, and X. Well now that he thinks about it, they read Max.

He watched as you pressed on something but his eyes weren’t fast enough to catch it and suddenly the phone went black, then just as fast it lit up again with a sign that said ‘HBO’ before it went black once more. “What-” He looked closer but quickly cleared his throat hearing you giggle at him. Then a blue thing with a dark background began to show. “What is that?” He asked while you stopped it from moving. 

“The world.” You spoke looking towards him with a little smug smile. 

“The world? That's what it looks like? Even the words that cover it?” He asked looking down towards the phone reading the words that said ‘Universal’ and he heard you click your tongue. 

“Obviously not with the words, but yes, this it was, it looks like beyond from all the way up there.” You pointed up. “Well at least where I come from this is how the word looks like. I think yours might be a little different.” You muttered out. “But in any case.” You pointed out where roughly your home was. “This is where I live and see all the blue, that's the ocean and the green on land, and the bright yellow stuff are lights. There are a lot of lights where I come from. It dims out the stars. That is why I said I’ve never seen the stars so bright before. With so much light comes light pollution.” You explained and he nodded looking at it before you again pressed the phone and it began to play. He heard sounds in the background but he couldn’t quite explain what they sounded like, he’s never heard it before. 

As he continued to watch more symbols popped up, but he found himself focusing on the background. What thing could produce such sounds he wondered. “What is that?” He asked and once more you touched the screen and the sounds and things on your phone stopped.

“It’s a logo. The…how can I phrase this, the symbols of the company that made this. Think of it like the things on your banners. It’s kinda like that.” 

“Not the thing that sounds in the background.” 

“Oh,” You smiled. “That’s music. Background music, to build feeling. I told you I have never heard anything like our music before.” Jacaerys found himself unable to say anything. He really hadn’t heard anything like this. You pressed down on the screen again and once more the music played but then it became ominous and he felt a sort of..nervousness as the phone went white. Then the music stopped and a crack was heard and it showed on the screen as well and more words showed on the screen he tried to read them but the formatting was too different for him to read properly.

More cracks appeared on the white thing as more of it was becoming visible. “What is that?” He asked watching something come out of it, a moment later it was shown to be claws. Three black gray claws.

“An egg.” You said simply continuing to watch the movie.

Jacaerys made an involuntary face as the claws twitched and suddenly another egg was shown. How was this happening? The phone let out sounds and for some strange reason it sounded like his own heart beats. Very strange. The phone refocused on the second egg as the claw twitched and clawed out the shell of the egg and an orange eye was shown. His face grimaced and he let out a sound of displeasure. 

“That's exactly what the eyes of Vermox look like, why are you making that sound?” You turned to him with a brow lifted. 

“No, Vermax’s eyes don’t look that ugly.” He defended his dragon. How could you insult him in such a way when you just saw him yesterday and if his memory served him right, you were very friendly with his dragon.

“Whatever you say,” You hummed and shrugged and Jacaerys gave you an offended look. When he looked back to the phone it went white again with something sounding in the background that didn’t sound like music. A large clawed foot stepped on the ground only for it to then be revealed as a bird. 

You pressed the screen again and it stopped on a person who was wearing a red coat and seemingly dark tight pants putting something into another thing. Behind stood a yellow home though he’s never seen any homes like that before. 

“That is somewhat average clothes. Women don’t really wear dresses anymore, it’s not required and that,” You pointed at the car trunk. “It's a car. She’s loading up suitcases and behind her is our version of houses.”

Jacaerys nodded looking closely at the ‘car’ before you pressed the screen again and once more the phone began.

“Boys, let's do this.” The woman in the red yelled and suddenly the phone showed something which he could not describe. 

“What is that?” he asked and once more you pressed the phone and the movie stopped. 

“I don’t know what it’s called but it shows you pictures.” You explained and you were going back to press the play button another question interrupted you.

“What are pictures?” He asked to look at you. You paused and thought for a moment. 

“Uhh, oh okay look.” You swiped off the movie and instead went to camera and turning the phone backwards you went to snap and take a photo. “Say cheese!” You smiled and posed while you heard a confused ‘cheese?’ and then the light flash went off. You turned it around and showed him the picture of both of you.

Jacaerys grimace. He looked confused and well not good, while you were there with a perfect smile and closed eyes. He heard you laugh. “This is a picture, think of it as a moment in time that is frozen forever.” 

“That’s what I look like?” Jacaerys complained. He suddenly felt insecurity creeping up on him.

“At the moment yes, but it looks cute, don’t worry.” You smiled and then promptly switched back to the movie. It was a cute picture, his first one too. You were definitely keeping it, besides, you looked way too good in the picture to delete it. 

“Gray?” The woman in the red shirt asked as she opened the door. Jacaerys looked in the background observing the chamber decor. Never had he seen a chamber like that.

“Honey, what are you doing?” The woman in red, which he assumed was the mother, questioned and went to take away the boy’s ‘picture thing’ as you called it. “What is this? Here, let's go. Come on honey. Your flight leaves in two hours.” She spoke once again preparing her son. 

“Dane county airport is 36 minutes away, 60 with traffic.” The boy spoke towards his mom. 

“How many minutes to get your little butt in the van? Hmm?” The mom smiled and so did the little boy. He kind of reminded him of Joffrey, certainly had the hair for it though only if it was darker.

As the movie progressed he heard music in the background once more. So much was going on that he only just realized the music. “Have yourself a merry little christmas.” It was sung in the background.

What was Christmas he wondered. Suddenly the scene changed and they were surrounded by a lot of people. The mother was wishing her sons goodbye. A loving mother she was, reminded him of his own. Though the older one was very dismissive towards his parents. It rubbed him the wrong way.

“Hey, listen to your mother.” The father spoke. Jacaerys found himself giving a small nod in agreement. 

“Take care of your brother. Answer your phone. I’m serious, it’s the green button. When you see my name, push it. Okay?” The mother lectured. It seemed phones were a common occurrence where you came from. Did everyone have information at their fingertips? “And remember, if something chases you,” The mother spoke with wide eyes. “Run.” She whispers the last part. 

As he continued to watch the mother bidding goodbye to her sons, the scene changed again and there was…well he didn’t know what it was. 

You hit pause and turn to him. “That’s a plane. We also travel by air, just not with dragons.” It was all you offered before pressing the phone again. The scene changed again and the boys were boarding…well he didn’t know either. “How big is the island?” The younger brother asked. “Big.” The older replied. “But how many pounds?” The younger one asked. Jacaerys knew what ‘pounds’ were. “Doesn’t make sense.” The older one replied. 

The scene changed once more and it looked like they were riding a ship with only no sails. He wondered how it moved. Once more the scene changed and he really got to the attire of the people. It certainly did seem somewhat familiar to what you wore when he first saw you. He watched the phone as it showed him new views of the likes he has never seen before. Like the blue tube and something moving. “What is that?” He asked. This time you didn’t bother stopping it. 

“That’s an escalator, think of moving stairs, and that is a train. Moves you from one place to another, like a carriage.” You responded. Stairs that move? How queer. 

The next scene shows the boys inside the train and the music in the background increased. It was quite the melody. Then it panned over to the small blonde boy running inside a building. There looked to be glass everywhere and on the top looked like ‘pictures’ and then there was a black haired woman. She had an accent more similar to his than the boys did.

Then he saw the younger brothers moving upwards calling his brother and the woman. 

“That's an escalator in use.” You spoke and Jacaerys watched as the boy moved without climbing the stairs. Yes, how queer indeed. The scene changed once more to the black haired woman from before entering a chamber. As the scene progressed so did the music and he found himself impatient waiting for the high of the song. When the younger brother opened the window, it showed a view Jacaerys had never seen before. The high of the song sounded loudly and Jacaerys found himself entranced. Is this how you felt when you saw his dragon for the first time?

As the song came to an end he was then shown a woman with a short…dress? He didn’t know, but the woman that was shown had short red hair, was pale with freckles dotting her face and gray eyes. A very good looking and well put together woman. 

“Welcome to Jurassic World.” The woman spoke, seeming as if she was speaking to him. He moved back away from the screen. Could she see him?

The scene changed again and white walls were shown with people in white and what looked like blue gloves and clear things on their faces. 

“Who are they?” Jacaerys asked as the scene progressed and he saw more eggs as a white thing opened exposing them. “They’re scientists. I think more specifically biologists or genealogists.” Those were big words you spoke and he had no idea what they meant. He continued to watch as the scene unfolded. “While year-over-year revenue continues to climb, operating costs are higher than ever. Our shareholders have been patient but let’s be honest. No one’s impressed by a dinosaur anymore.” The woman in all white said. Again Jacaerys had no idea what she was talking about. 

“20 years ago de-extinction was right up there with magic. These days kids look at a Stegosaurus like an elephant in a city zoo. That doesn't mean asset development is falling behind: DNA excavators discover new species every year but consumers want them bigger, louder, more teeth. The good news is our advances in gene splicing have opened up a whole new frontier. We've learned more from genetics in the past decade than we have from a whole century of digging up bones. So when you say you want to sponsor an attraction what do you have in mind?” The more the woman in all white spoke, the more he was lost. Luckily you picked up on it and stopped the movie. 

“Okay lemme break it down.” You said facing him. “Dinosaurs have been extinct for about 65 million years.”

Jacaerys' jaw hung open. Million! Not just one but sixty-five!? Sixty-five million years they have been, well he doesn’t know what extinct means. But he does know that 65 million years is a long time. “What does extinction mean?” He asked and saw you look up thinking. 

“Dead. No longer alive. It doesn’t exist anymore. No where on earth is it alive. That is what extinction means.” You said and Jacaerys thought once more. For 65 million years dinosaurs haven’t existed.

“Then…” He trailed off trying to understand. 

“My Earth is about 4.5 billion years old. Overall there have been five great mass extinctions one of those being the extinction of dinosaurs who were here long before humans.” Jacaerys ignored the fact that you said ‘your earth’ and instead focused on how old it was. 

4.5 Billion years! Madness! He’s never even heard of a billion of anything. 

“I would assume yours is too. All planets in the solar system have been created at the same time, which was the beginning of time. Though it may be different, I’m not sure.” You spoke as it was the most normal thing in the world, as if you just didn’t just just change his entire perception of the world. 

“How, do you know that? How can you know how old the world is or Earth, as you call it. Why do you call Earth and not the world?” He looked at you.

“Well that's the name of the world. Earth. It comes from an old word, I think it might be Latin, and it's like ground or something. Might be old English too, I can’t remember. Anyways, the way it was discovered how old the Earth was was through a specific kind of dating I can't remember off the top of my head but it was something like carbon dating. Essentially in the beginning of time everything was created at the exact same time by a big bang. So that means all the planets were created at the exact same time and that also includes everything else such as the sun and the Stars. Now you could also date the actual Earth itself by taking a random Rock but you also have to take into consideration weathering that has happened to the rock that may mess up the dating.  So in order to combat that basically we took a small asteroid or a piece of a star and dated that and because everything was made at the exact same time that meant that that piece of space whether it be an asteroid or a star is exactly the same age as the Earth.” As Jacaerys listened to you speak he felt his world changing around him. What in god's name was ‘carbon-dating?’ Also they took a star? What was an asteroid? The beginning of time!? What a big bang? 

“What…are you talking about?” Jacaerys muttered. 

“It’s a whole thing. I take days to explain everything to you. But just know that this dating method is considered highly accurate. Along with that as of right now we are in the midst of the 6th great mass extinction caused at the hands of humans. Essentially we are our own destruction.”  You nodded with a smile on your face as if you weren’t talking about the end of everything. 

“What!?” Jacaerys blinked and saw you laugh. Were you mad!? You had to be mad to laugh about something like this.

“Sorry, my world. Not yours, not yet at least.” It was predetermined!? He felt like he was being overwhelmed with information. “Well not if I can do anything about it. Trust, it’ll be fine.” You patted his shoulder. “Anyways, here they found a way to bring back the dinosaurs from the grave.” You smiled then pressed play on the movie. 

He stayed still as the movie went on trying to wrap his head around the whole notion of extinction and mass death and the age of the earth. Even as a strange creature appeared on the screen and people walked through it.

He saw you stop the movie again looking at him. “You okay?” He nodded. You could stop the next mass extinction right? You said you could. He wonders how exactly one could cause mass destruction in the world. Perhaps with those weapons you mentioned before, certain countries could destroy cities. 

Finally he turned his attention back to the phone as you resumed the movie. He saw children brushing dirt from large bones and then pictures showing a large explosion. “See that's how dinosaurs died. An asteroid crashed into earth.” You murmured and Jace honestly didn’t want to think about extinctions right now. 

Once more the large creature from before was there. “What is that?” 

“That is a dinosaur belonging to the sauropod family.” You answered.

“Sauropod family?” Jacaerys tilted his head. 

“Yes, they are defined by their features, notably long necks, long tails, small heads, and four thick, pillar-like legs. This one is just a hologram or like a picture that is being…projected?” Did he know what the project meant? You had no other way of explaining it. Luckily he just nodded along. 

“Aunt Claire!” The younger brother called out and went to go hug the woman in white. 

“Oh, my gosh, you’re so- you’re so sweet.” Jacaerys watched the family dynamic trying to remember names. Clearly this ‘Claire’ woman was very busy. She seemed to be the manager of everything. Though the more he watched he noticed another creature that was chewing. 

“What is that one?” Jacaerys pointed towards the phone.

“That's a Parasaurolophus, which means duck-billed.” Jacaerys watched the ‘Parasaurolophus.’ He had never seen such a thing. It looks duck-billed. He continued to watch as Claire walked through it. 

The next scene showed a bright blue map shown on what looked to be a bigger version of a phone. 

He watched the scene unfold as new people were on the screen, a man with things on his face and a woman with a blue coat.

“Looks like it. Verizon Wireless presents the Indominus Rex.” Claire spoke.

“Ugh, that is so terrible.” The man with things on his face spoke. “Why not just go the distance Claire, and these corporations name the dinosaurs? They’ve got all the ballparks, why stop there?” 

“Why are the Westplanes closed?” Claire pointed to the map where there was red. 

“Another pachy roaming outside its zone.” The woman in the blue coat explained. 

Again Jacaerys couldn’t say what they were talking about, but he kept his mouth shut simply watching. Claire reminded him of what a King should be. Very commanding. It wasn’t common here in Westeros. You had said something about more women in power, was this what you meant?

Then the scene showed something flying in the air making chopping sounds. “What is that?”

“That’s a helicopter. Another way we travel through air.” You answered and Jacaerys watched it lifted into the air. 

“You look tense Claire.” The man steering the ‘helicopter’ spoke.

“Maybe you should just focus on the controls.” Claire spoke while clutching onto anything she could. 

“The key to a happy life is to accept that you are never actually in control.” The man said and Jacaerys raised a brow. What was that supposed to mean?

“Don’t forget why we built this place, Claire. Jurassic World exists to remind us how very small we are, how new. You can’t put a price on that. Now please we’re flying.” As he spoke Jacaerys saw you nodding along with his statement and Jacaerys did not want an explanation. 

“It’s bigger than expected.” Claire spoke and then a scene where there was a man who seemed to be wielding fire was shown. He opened his mouth to ask but shut, deciding he didn’t need an explanation on why there was fire coming from the man’s hand. 

“We hit a few speed bumps early on. It began to anticipate where the food would come from. One of the handlers nearly lost an arm and the other threatened to quit if I couldn’t guarantee their safety.” Claire spoke as she entered the room. 

He watched the scene trying to take in everything all at once. As he watched there was a growling heard and he saw something within the trees. It was white and had ridges. The skin looked like it could belong to a dragon. He watched until there was a yellow eye and it blinked, or at least that's what it looked like. Didn’t blink like anything he’s ever seen before.

“Can she see us?” The man asked. 

“They say it can sense thermal radiation like a snake.” Claire responded. 

“I thought there were two of them?” The man asked, facing Claire. 

“There was a sibling in case this one didn’t survive infancy.” Claire spoke as she looked towards the Indomius Rex.

“Where’s the sibling?” The man asked.

“She ate it.” Claire responded walking away from him.

“What is thermal radiation?” Jacaerys asked you. “It’s what snakes used to see. We give out heat signatures.” Jacaerys looked at you with confusion. “They see the warmth our body gives.” You explained and he nodded. 

“Oh. How?” You looked at him trying to think of why. “Uhhh, I actually don’t know. I think it’s because of their tongues. They use it to smell.” Jacaerys looked at waiting for more of an explanation. “Listen, I don't know how they do that either.” 

The squealing of a pig brought back Javier's attention to the movie. The pig was running away from something. Jacaerys watched closely trying to see what it was running from. 

“Hold!” A male voice rang out and claws were on the phone. The four more appeared behind as it panned up to show what looked like dragons except without wings, or horns. He assumed that dinosaurs were.

“Hey!” The scene panned to show a man, or more so the outline of a man. Then the man was shown. He had ruggish appearance and held something in his hand that clicked. “Eyes on me.” The man commanded and again the dinosaurs were shown.

Jacaerys watched the scene with intense focus as he watched the man command the dinosaurs. He could understand why you said they were like your version of dragons. Though to have one man bonded to four? It was unheard of here. Only one dragon per rider. 

“How is it bonded with all four?” He asked to watch the movie. You turned to him with furrowed brows. 

“What does bonded mean?” You asked. Jacaerys sat up, did you not see dragons bonded with their riders?

“Dragons only have one rider until their death, and only one person commands them. I am bonded with Vermax, and he won’t have a new rider until I die.” He explained, and you nodded understanding. 

“Curious. I didn’t know that. Owen isn’t bonded to the velociraptors like how you and Vermax are. These are wild animals. He is their trainer. It’s like a dog and owner kind of relationship or as Owen describes it, like a pack. One wolf is the head and the rest follow. Bonds like the ones you have with Vermax don’t really exist where I come from. I think the closest would be dogs or other intelligent animals bred for domestic purposes. In this case, they can and will kill him if given the chance.” You explained. 

“Pig loose! Pig loose!” A man shouted on the phone and Jacaerys turned to watch the phone once more. He watched as the pig was taken by the dinosaur and the man dropped in the cage. His heart jolted and it felt unable to relax as he watched the scene. He watched men point rectangular-shaped blocks at the raptors. Then he watched intently as Owen tried to keep the dinosaurs at bay. 

“Blue, stand down. Stand down.” In a strange sense, it reminded him of when he was learning to tame Vermax. Though Vermax didn’t try to kill him, not as Blue was snapping towards Owen. 

“Delta, I see you. Back up! Okay good, good. Charlie, stay right there. Good. Close the gate.” Jacaerys' heart jolted once more. He felt as if he couldn’t relax. Was Owen going to die? He watched as Owen dived under the gate just barely escaping the Dinosaurs. He gave out a sigh of relief. This was stressful, too stressful, though you didn’t seem affected at all, only watching with a smile on your face. Maybe, this was like your version of jousting tournaments. 

He continued to watch as the scene changed to children on other dinosaurs which he had never seen. It was quite a curious thing seeing how different children looked and the stark difference in how life was where you were from. It seemed like everyone was always happy. In contrast to here, it seemed rather gray. How hard and strange everything must be for you. Giving up a life where basic luxuries were this kind of thing, and yet now here you are trying to recreate this. If he were in your situation, where his entire family was gone, his friends, his titles, everything he has known and it was taken from him and put into a place where he had no power. Jacaerys Valeyron truly doesn’t think he could do it. Yet you are thriving here, and he hasn’t seen you fret about your losses. You seemed to look on the ‘bright side’ as you called it. 

Jacaerys watched as the brothers ran away from their caretaker for a ‘T-rex’ feeding. Though the movie didn’t show much of this ‘T-rex.’

“Well, a promise tomorrow is worth a lot less than trying today.” The mother of the two brothers spoke and he tilted his head. How were they talking? 

“How are they talking?” He asked you and you turned away from the movie and smiled. “Well, phones are used to make long-distance calls. Think like if you have paper and you write a letter you get another for like another week or more, phones allow you to talk in real-time. So let's say you’re in like I don’t know Essos and I’m here. If phones worked here we could talk as if we were face to face.” Jacaerys felt his mouth go slack. This was revolutionary. Yes, if this is your basic luxury, Jacaerys does not think he could handle what is happening to you. 

“How does that work?” No, how does it really work? This seemed like an impossible feat, how did they connect? 

“Um, well I’m no expert but um I think it has to do with electromagnetic waves,” Jacaerys swears you make up half these words. Every time he asked you to explain something, he was always left with more questions than answers. “Oh look look, this is the best part of the movie. The Mosasaurs!” 

Jace turned his attention back to the phone. “The Mosasaurs were thought to have hunted near the surface of the water where it preyed on anything it could sink its teeth into. Including turtles, large fish, and even smaller mosasaurs. Okay, folks let's see if she’s still hungry after already eating today” There was a large shark attached to what looked like to Jacaerys; a metal rope.

Jacaerys watched intently as a large creature swam out and ate the shark whole. What was that!? It was huge! Is this what you had roaming in your water where you came from!? He was so shocked that he didn’t pause to think how the seats moved down to see underwater. All he could focus on was the size of it. It had to be at least the length of Crazes. There was no way you had that just roaming in your waters. 

Shaking his head he leaned on his palm watching as Claire introduced Owen to the Indominuos Rex. He watched as they realized the Indominuos Rex wasn’t in its enclosure anymore. He furrowed his brows in confusion. Wasn’t it just there? However, it all clicked when the phone showed claw marks on the wall. Once more that tense feeling came back and it was not helped by the music in the background. Was that intentional? The music was eerie and only served to put him more on edge as he saw the guard, who looked rather unqualified to be one, and Owen entered the enclosure. 

“Get them out of there now. Now!” Claire shouted. The music picked up pace and Jacaerys found himself subconsciously leaning in while clenching his fists. His eyes narrowed as he saw white scaly skin and long sharp black claws. He watched in horror as the black claws snatched the third man. He heard him scream and then there was a crunch. He had never seen or heard anyone die before, so to see his first death in a movie was disturbing. Even more so because you seemed to not react to the death. Was this entertainment for you? Men dying, people dying? 

Jacaerys gave a silent gasp as he saw the man get ripped apart by the Indominuos Rex. Jacaerys gritted his teeth in anticipation to see if Owen would get out alive. He saw as the Indominuos Rex walked over to the fat guard and his mouth was suddenly agape as he watched the man get bitten and nearly eaten whole. He found himself wanting to look away as the Indominuos Rex closed in on Owen. Much to Jacaerys pleasure, it didn’t eat Owen, though he was disturbed by the roar it gave out. It certainly did sound like it could be a dragon. 

“What are those things?” Jacaerys asked, watching what he assumed were the knights of your world. 

“Those…those are tasers. They shock you. Think of it as wielding lighting at will except a lot less strong.” You giggled at the end. Jacaerys blinked once more in awe of your world. Lighting!? Like Thunder!? Your people had learned to wield lighting and thunder as weapons!? This place must seem…primitive to you. This was insanity!

“If mom and dad get divorced, will one of us be with mom and the other with dad?” Gray asked his brother. 

Suddenly Jacaerys was taken back to his first real conversation with you. You had mentioned something about divorce being common, however, he didn’t really believe in whispering of such a thing as blasphemous, but here these two brothers were speaking about it. 

“Oh he’s a sophomore, I didn’t know that.” You mumbled out. Jacaerys didn’t know what was but he thought it in his best interest to ask any more questions. Though that was his second time thinking that, that never stopped him.

Jacaerys grimaced as they picked up the meat with the ‘tracking implant’ whatever that meant though he assumed it was to help track things. He didn’t even want to start to guess how that worked. 

He watched as a drop of blood fell on the man’s arm. 

“It can camouflage!” The man yelled and once more a horror-stricken expression took over his face as he watched the carnage. There was no possible way you weren’t affected by this? One man had been stepped on, another ripped in half, and then an additional one had a tree fall on him. Yet there you were without a single expression of remorse or any emotion watching the movie. It was off putting. He doesn’t even think Daemon would be able to watch this without some kind of reaction.

He turned back to watch the brothers getting into a glass ball and once more Jacaerys thought about asking you but felt too put off by your expressions to say anything. As he watched the movie he felt himself in awe of seeing the Dinosaurs. They looked like nothing he had ever seen, yet your world had them. It was amazing, though he supposes you also thought dragons were amazing. He looked over towards you and for the first time saw an emotion. He saw a smile. A smile on your face seems to admire the dinosaurs. 

Though a reaction, it didn’t put him at ease. 

“Dude. Off-road.” Zach spoke to Gray. “But they told us to go back.” Gray insisted. “Y’know, I’m just worried that you’re not getting the full Jurassic World experience.” As Zach spoke Jacaerys heard you giggling mumbling out “That's so me.” He raised a brow at you.

Once more Jacaerys’s heart jolted as the Indominus Rex found Zach and Gray. This movie can’t be good for his health. He watched as the Indominus Rex broke the neck of the dinosaur with a club tail. He grimaced and so did you. So you were impervious to human death, but not animal death? How backward. 

Though as the scene continued he swore he was going to have white hair by the end of this movie. He gripped his hair as the phone buzzed and the Indominus Rex bit down the glass and it punctuated! “Oh fuck.” He mumbled out. 

He continued to pull his hair as he watched Zach and Gray run away from the Indominus Rex. Luckily they got away.  He gave out a sigh of relief. How were these movies good for anyone?

As he continued to watch a scene with a dinosaur dying tugged at his heartstrings. He looked over to you and to his relief you were not unaffected. As the movie progressed Jacaerys found himself engrossed in it. Taking in everything it had to offer. 

Though as it continued that damned Indominus Rex came back to haunt him and all over again he was gritting his teeth. He jolted as the Indominus Rex broke through the roof. He watched intently as the scene unfolded. 

“Yes. Get ACU out here. Real guns this time.” Claire spoke out. 

“What are guns?” He asked and you simply responded with a “You’ll see.” And that he did. He saw as it shot unimaginably fast. The weapons your world had were unimaginable, never once has this idea ever crossed Jacaerys’s mind.  

“That’s a machine gun. It fires about six-hundred to about fifteen hundred bullets per minute.” Once more Jacaerys was left puzzled by your causal explanations. They shot so hard that it blew out chucks of the ground. Unbelievable.

“What is a bullet?” He asked. Releasing six-hundred to one thousand five-hundred of something in a minute was deranged! 

“They’re metal shaped into sharp points. A gun works almost like a crossbow. Except it used gunpowder to make a small explosion within the gun to propel the bullet at a high speed to then pierce through anything essentially. It would even go through your steel armor if hit at the exact point or one good shot and you’re dead. Even more so with a machine gun.” You turn to him with a smile. “Nothing is bullet proof. Shoot it enough times, it’ll break. If you’re shot, well you’re swiss cheese, I don’t know.” You laughed out the last part. 

Jacaerys didn’t know what ‘swiss cheese’ was but he was just going to assume that it wasn’t a good thing. 

He watched the Indominus Rex crash into a…glass dome? Inside were things that were almost Dragons, but not exactly. He watched enthralled as one man fell out of the helicopter and gave a small gasp when one of those flying dinosaurs snatched him. 

“Oop! I forgot that happened.” You spoke as your brows shot up in shock. A man had just been impaled by one of those flying dinosaurs, though Jacaerys focused on the fact that you had apparently watched this movie several times? Did you enjoy seeing people killed!?

“Oh pay attention, a good scene is coming up.” You nodded excited as you looked back towards the phone. Somehow when you said that now, Jacaerys wasn’t excited like he was in the beginning of the movie. He watched you smile as the flying dinosaurs flew down and attacked the commons! This was absolutely mad! Madness that you watched this for entertainment. He couldn't emphasize this enough. He watched in horror as the caretaker of the brothers was snatched and then eaten by the Mosasaurs. Absolute madness. 

As he continued to watch the trepidation of it all in the midst of it Owen kissed Claire! He let out a sound of surprise and looked away while you gave a giggle. “Relax, it’s just a kiss. Be glad you’re not watching this with your parents, trust me, it’s a lot more awkward.” You smiled at him. You watched this kind of mania with your family!? This was too much for Jacaerys yet he couldn’t look away from the phone. 

As he watched, he saw a man shoot a dinosaur and it immediately went down. A horrid thought entered his mind. Could that kill dragons? Probably. He shook the thought away. 

Watching the movie he saw Owen punch that other guy and he gave a smile. “That’s how I punched Aemond.” He murmured happily with himself. 

“No.” You shook your head at him and didn’t elaborate. He deflated a little bit at that and continued to watch the movie. 

“Oh yuh!” You pumped your fist as the velociraptors were set loose. 

A mad woman. You were a mad woman. Jacaerys Valeyron had lusted for a mad woman. He shook his head in disappointment. 

Though he did admit that it did look very compelling to watch the raptors hunt. The fluidity of their movement was amazing to watch and their flawless teamwork was also something to behold. 

Though once the raptor started communicating with the Indominus Rex, it was a little less cool. He watched as the guns went off and then something shot out and created a large explosion. His mouth went agape for the umpteeth time since this move started. Just how many weapons have been devised!? This was bad. No wonder you had so many wars yet none at all. Your weapons were of mass destruction. One wrong move and everyone is gone! “What is that!?” 

“An RPG, I don’t know what it stands for but I know it’s a kind of missile.” You laughed a bit as you spoke. Truly a despicable place you must’ve come from if you are this desensitized.

He continued to watch as the raptors killed the men in such savage ways. He doesn’t know how he is going to sleep tonight. As he watched the scenes unfold once more his hands were in his hair gripping his locks as he watched, unable to guess whether or not Zach and Gray were going to live with two raptors after them. 

Luckily once again they did. He breathed out a breath of relief.

“Is this what you had in mind?” The man with things on his face asked though everyone seemed to be leaving. “Hey.” He spoke to the woman with the blue coat. “They said we have to evacuate. There’s a boat. Are you coming?” She asked him. The man seemed to contemplate the idea before ultimately making the decision of staying, but not before he tried to kiss the woman in the blue coat and unwilling Jacaerys gave out a groan of second hand embarrassment. He covered his eyes and shook his head. Somehow this was worse than the kissing.  

Though the man that wanted to use the dinosaurs as weapons getting mauled by the raptor quickly took his mind off the whole ordeal. He gritted his teeth so hard as the scenes continued. Now they were all surrounded by three raptors. Jacaerys wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. He angled his face away from the screen as Owen tried to reclaim Blue. When Owen’s hand wasn’t bitten off he sighed a breath of relief. Only to hold it once more when that damned Indominus Rex appeared once more. 

He gasped as Blue was thrown to the side by the Indominus Rex. Jacaerys watched intently as both remaining raptors attacked the Indominus Rex. He pumped his fist in victory only to gasp in surprise when a raptor was thrown and it exploded and the other was bit and thrown. 

The Indominus’s claw nearly grabbed gray had it not been for his older brother. He had to have white hair by now, he was sure of it. 

Jacaerys watched as Claire stood in front of another large dinosaur. Damn, another one to deal with. Though to his pleasant surprise the two large dinosaurs began fighting. However, not soon after clearly the Indominus Rex was winning. He sighed in disappointment. Though it was short-lived as Jacaerys murmured a “Yes!” at Blue’s return. 

You turned to look at him with a smile and cleared his throat looking back towards the movie. 

Jacaerys watched the fight with more interest than he’s ever looked at anything, and then once for the final time Jacaerys’s mouth hung open as the Mosasaurs came and dragged the Indominus Rex down. 

It was a pleasant ending as the movie came to an end, though he still thought you mad for finding enjoyment in the deaths of others. 

“So what’d you think of my surprise?” You smiled. 

“I think you and your people are mad for finding entertainment in the death of others.” He spoke plainly. It was true, while a happy ending was nice, what about all the lives sacrificed for it? To make a spectacle out of it was cruel.

You furrowed your brows tilting your head before your mouth formed an ‘o.’ “Oh lord! I didn’t tell you! Oh my goodness, I am so sorry! No, everything is fake! No one really died making this movie. The dinosaurs aren’t real either and neither are Claire, Owen, Zach, Gray, any of them. They’re not real people!” You smiled trying to apologize. “Oh gosh, I can’t say sorry enough. No, they’re actors, it’s their job to pretend. There are no more dinosaurs, they’re extinct, all of it is a…play. Think of it as that.” You nodded.

“I saw the Dinosaurs, they looked as real as you and I?” Jacaerys was appalled that you lied to him when he said it. 

“No, that is digital effects. CGI, that’s all it is. I promise, everyone is alive. No one got hurt.” You were pleased before you covered your eyes and shook your head. “This must’ve been such a horrible experience. Oh gosh, I really am sorry. I didn’t- I totally forgot to tell you. It didn’t even cross my mind!” You grabbed his hand and held it in yours. “I really am sorry, I would never think to draw entertainment from y’know actual dead people. I’ve even seen a dead person. I swear it is all fake. Cross my heart.” You let go of his hand and crossed your heart. 

“So dinosaurs aren’t around anymor?” He asked skeptically trying to wrap his mind around it. 

“Yeah! Oh my gosh, no they really haven’t been around for over sixty-five million years, not including birds of course, but anyways! Yeah everything is fake.” You tried to reassure him. 

“The weapons as well?” He furrowed his brows looking at you.

“Oh no those are real.” You gave out a little laugh at the end. “Yeah no those actually exist…it’s just the dinosaurs and the people that are named.” 

He nodded slowly. “Is that all the entertainment your people watch?” 

“No. There is a lot! Unfortunately I have only two more movies downloaded.” You sighed turning off the phone leaving you both in darkness as your eyes adjusted. “But um, I’d like to preserve my battery. I’m now at 70…it’s all I have left from my home. All my pictures, the only reminder of my family. I’d rather preserve it for a long time.” A sharp pain hit your jaw and traveled to your tear ducts as you felt tears gathering. Luckily it was dark. 

It was silent before Jacaerys spoke again. “Mayhaps, we can have a painter paint your pictures so that you may have them forever.” 

You snapped your head up. “Really? You would do that?” Your lips formed a wobbly smile. “It would mean the world to me to have them painted out.” You reached out in the dark for his hands holding them close to you. “Thank you Jacaerys Valeyron, really. Thank you.” 

As you smiled the only thing on his mind was how much he enjoyed the sound of his full name on your lips. 

Note: This chapter was a pain to write. I don't even like the way it sounds. So sorry.

Previous I Next I Masterlist

To be added to Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

[fictionadventurer]

There's a story here. I don't know what it is, but it fascinates me.

[redcherrykook]

──𐙚 brothers best friend - request, club vibes, fluff

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content: JK is yn´s older brothers bestie, clubbing, mini sexual banter, teasing, make out, humping, chest play, confessions , childhood friends 2 lovers, biker JK, movie night, pining mutally, hopeless romantic reader, FLUFF

note from cherry: cloud anonie, this is a lot more cutesy than u requested, but i hope that's okay!!! Mwa!!

────୨ৎ────

Fleeting, a look of tension is sent your way, a familiar pair of eyes being the messanger

Jungwon is a good older brother; caring, supportive, kind. Even introduced you to his friends, let his two year younger, kind of loser sister hang out too

Talk for hours about video game interests and never really understanding the jokes until she got old enough, still, always sharing a laugh.

His best friend, Jeon Jungkook, is the complete opposite. Someone you have grown up with and always hated the guts of.

A huge ego, sexual jokes, a player who shamelessly stared at every pair of tits he saw, yours included. A guy who, honestly, didn't fit into the working class, grateful life you and Jungwon live.

Somehow, you found a way to enjoy his company, grown acustom to his banter and flirting, adapting to his sense of humor and finding yourself get a little bit excited whenever he announced he would be coming over

Nonetheless, he had always been around. For every birthday after jungwon turned 7, Jungkook was always there. Every holiday, every special dinner, countless weekends, sleepovers, parties, homework.. you name it.

Through the transformation of childhood to embarrasing teenage phases and crushes, now adulthood, young adulthood

22 isn't that grown up yet, Jungkook is closer with 24, however his mind hasn't aged since age 14, not to your understanding

The point is, he has always been there. In your life, your home, your heart.

You still remember when both of you were teens, sitting alone at your dining table and listening to him explain algebra to you,

You didn't understand a word though, distracted by the big brown doe eyes his face came with.

To be completely honest, Jungkook had been your crush from childhood.

Sure, you hated the way he did absolutely everything but you adored it at the same time. Jealous when he talked about his hook ups and that one serious girlfriend he had,

Hurt when he complimented your looks but would call you annoying afterwards

Your brothers cool, older best friend who came over almost every day.

From finding him pretty as a little girl to humping your pillow thinking about his shirtless body as a teen, the way in which Jungkook showed up in your brain always changed with maturity,

It had been clear however, that your attraction to him is more serious than purely physical, given that it had been years

It took a few exes to take your mind off for sure but at the end of the day, you would always come back to wishing the lips on yours would belong to someone else

The someone that's currently in your kitchen, drinking a glass of water and scanning over the miniskirt on your body

"Where are you going?" he asks, leaning his fully tattoed arm against the large kitchen island,

"You sound like Jungwon" you say, gathering up the coat you would wear to shield yourself of this breezy night.

He cocks his head, "i watched you grow up, i think i have every right to sound like that"

"hmm, sure. Going to a bar" you reply, putting on the black high heels next to the front door

Truth be told, you were going to a bar to attempt at meeting someone to leave with.

After years of pining and useless hope in his flirtatious nothingness, enough is enough

Enough of falling over Jungkook.

"A bar? Alone?" his muscular arms cross over his chest, grey tshirt bulging along his flexed bicep,

Was he working out more?

You nod, replying "yep" with a popping p,

He humms,

"Can i join?" his smile is infuriating, innocent and almost making you question if that was a sincere thing to ask, you giggle,

"Seriously? No?"

"A shame. You look sexy, be careful out there" he nods his chin upwards, disappearing into the depths of your brothers bedroom once again.

"He called you sexy, stop kidding me" she exclaims, rolling her eyes and throwing back yet another shot

Going out alone didn't work when you panic dialed your best friend,

The bar bustling with pretty girls and handsome guys entertaining them,

Searching for a manly snack to take home, you double take with every sleeve tatto having guy,

Looking for a piece of Jungkook in each one of them

"It's nothing nayeon really, he's always like this"

She widens her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her chest,

No bullshit with nayeon, if someone was gonna feed into your thoughts or pull you straight from delusion, it would be her

"No. No its not, he never called you sexy so casually. He didn't make fun of you this time. He said YOU LOOK SEXY" she empathizes the last sentence by tapping her hand on the table, Scoffing with her words

"Okay yeah, but come on?" doubtful about the possibility that he would return your multiple year long feelings, this conversation is seemingly going no where

"What?" She asks, rasing an eyebrow

You take a sip of your untouched mojito,

"If he liked me back, he would have said something. He's jungkook after all yeonie"

the sigh escaping your lips compliments an array of people leaving the club with little whispers and kisses,

Slow, quiet hushes of passion trailing out with them, leaving behind a yearning wish to feel what they must have felt in this moment

Having found love and lust in one place, taking it home, possibly cherishing it

Turning your head back to your best friend in front of you, her face glimmers in the dim light of the bar,

"I think he's been trying to show you for a long time" she says, pausing for a brief second before her face lights up

"Isn't it Jungwon's birthday next week?"

You hum, then tell her that he's planing to go to the club,

"Do you want to join too? He wouldn't mind" you ask, knowing that Jungwon always likes as many people around as possible

She nods happily, giving you her bright smile once again,

"I'd love to. Maybe you should try to get closer to him. Just try, it's gonna be okay"

Advice is often easier to give than to recieve and follow through with, especially when a good friend is on the line

Saving her from the immediate worry of absolutely embarrassing yourself when you attempt to grow closer to kook, you just smile,

"I guess it won't hurt?"

"Yeah," she replies, "maybe it will feel good"

You leave the bar without a man to fulfill a spot that wasn't molded in his shape to begin with

Slowly, the front door closes with minimal noise, only the tv playing from the living room can be heard,

Illuminating the hallway with bright, colorful flashes ever so often, you walk in without your heels and in your closed coat,

Gazing torward the large grey couch, it's occupied by your brother peacefully sleeping on one end, snoring away like it's the best sleep he's ever had

His best friend sitting a bit further, awake and attentive to the movie playing on the screen,

A rom-com you've seen dozens of times

He glances at you with a small smile, patting the space next to him,

"How was the bar?" he asks once you're planted down next to him, a strand tucked behind your ear while you let your eyes dance on the delicate features of his face

"Good, met up with nayeon" your reply only makes him nod in return, silently mustering your body up and down,

You can't tell what's behind this look,

"Movie night?" your question falls naturally to make up for the tense silence between the two of you, having long forgotten about your sibling a mere two meteres apart

Until he mentions him again

"Yeah, but hyung feel asleep as always"

With a small giggle both of you look at him,

"Typical" you say, rolling your eyes

"Wanna join me? It's pretty lonely down here"

There's a moment where his eyes stay lingering on your lips, bottom one tucked under your teeth

"Sure, i'm gonna go change first" he nods again, granting himself premission to gaze at your legs when you walk up the stairs, the silver ring in the corner of his lip now wet from being toyed with,

When you're back down in a comfortable lounge outfit and without your make up, Jungkooks breath stalls,

"Ah! Scared me" he teases, a playful smirk planted on his plump lips,

"Ha ha jeon" the face you make is enough to make him giggle, nose scrunching up and tongue sticking out

"I'm kidding i'm kidding- ouch!" exclaming dramatically while clutching his chest, he makes a fake sobbing noise before breaking out into the same laugh you're captured in,

"I was really joking, you look beautiful" he says, still focused on your bare face,

Without a second thought just hum mockingly, signaling you took it as a joke as much as you are offended

"Sorry, sorry princess" the tone he uses for your nickname is sultry, low and sounds like something you'd always imagined him to say, maybe even to whisper in your ear and make your spine tingle

Every bone in your body goes limp when you feel a muscular arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you into his firm chest,

His head is tuned to the tv, silently, without a word to utter at last you watch the movie,

Getting comfortable with the position, you're breath is still a little ragged from the sudden move, his hands now playing with strands of your hair, gently moving them around

"What's with the heavy breathing?" he says, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear and pinching your cheek,

His eyes stay on the tv, knowing he wouldn't contain himself at the sight

You're looking up at him, glancing over the tv's reflection in his big, brown eyes,

"No idea what you're talking about" your reply is close to a whisper, still adimiring the man that's holding you near,

He chuckles, patting your head

"So the staring is probably nothing too right? Come on, you're missing the movie princess" his note comes with a little smirk,

You laugh softly, mumbling out your words

"I've seen this movie a million times"

It wasn't the first time you two cuddled either, while watching a movie he used to pull you closer. However, it had been a while since then,

You must have been 18 the last time it had happened, your reaction then no different to the one now

Rosy cheeks and a racing mind, going places far from the reality of simply laying in his arms

Remembering how you told yourself that this is enough, this is all you would want and need,

It didn't stay that way, desire of things to experince with him only growing with each passing moment of proximity

The two characters of the movie kiss and naturally you smile, entraced with the love they share

Entraced with the desire the guy feels, a spark igniting within your heart to feel this type of kiss,

Lost in thought, you don't seem to notice how Jungkook's head has turned so he could look down to your precious smile,

Contemplating wheather or not to just risk it all and pull your chin up for a kiss, upon seeing the way you melt for the love shown on screen, he wanted nothing more but to make you familair with the feeling

Get you used to what he had been wanting to give you for years

His heartbeat increases, thumping with the thought of feeling your little smile against his lips,

You do notice however, how much quicker his heart is beating, pressing your head closer to his chest,

It must be because of the loving scene, after all, once you did look at him, his head had been turned back to the tv

He decided not to risk it all,

if only he had contemplated a little while longer.

Proud, confidently gesturing to the girl he's engaged in a conversation with

He adjusts his leather jacket, leaning on the counter with his back and casually putting his hand in his pocket,

The pretty girl in front of him smiles, tracing her fingers on his arm

You're left dumbfoundedly looking at nayeon,

"See?" you say, a sad smile dripping from your lips

You can barely make out nayeon's reply though the blaring Club music, people pushing torward the bar left and right

She tells you not to worry and come dance,

You agree, turning your head to look at Jungkook one last time, wishing to see him alone or talking to Jungwon

Instead, he's still busy making another woman laugh

Today was supposed to be your last chance at growing closer to him, your time to laugh and dance with him

You were supposed to go home with him, kissing him wildly at your doorstep and hiding from your disapproving brother

Now, you're swaying your hips with a random guy you haven't seen the face of, searching for your older brother in the crowd

Nayeon is dancing with her boyfriend, giggling, holding his hand that are placed on her hips,

You wanted that to be you tonight,

Jungwon sees you and smiles, assuming you finally let someone near you after being alone for a while,

He does judge the guy, letting you know that he's keeping an eye out for you, before he turns back to conversing with his friends

The music grows louder and so does the feeling of sadness that's being chased away by alcohol and strangers around you

Meanwhile,

"Oh there she is" he smiles, nodding towards you, he could only make out your hair from the back, long and silky as it sways with the music

"Ahh, wow she's pretty" the girl says, giving Jungkook a thumbs up

"Who is?" Another girl chimes in, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend that had been talking to Jungkook the past ten minutes,

An old friend he met coincidentally while she's clubbing with her partner

"His crush, the girl over there" she signals, pointing her finger to your figure, dancing with the guy you haven't met

With his replacement, his never fulfilling replacement

"Oh wow she is but, who's that guy?"

Jungkook's eyes fall, smile turning into a clenching jaw, moving his body up immediately to get a better view

A view he didn't like seeing,

You looked absolutely gorgeous, a short, soft pink dress draping down your body, stopping mid thigh

The curve of your waist perfectly on display, light pink blush on your cheeks only adding to the glow you extent,

But your face doesn't match, he doesn't find the same glow radiating from it as he does from your body

"I gotta go, have fun minnie, you too!" He shouts while looking back, already pushing his way through the mass of people just to get to you,

You spot him too, alone, smiling with a worried expression when you make eye contact,

He snatches you away from the guy while pulling your hands in torward him, sneaking his arms around your waist

"You okay?" he asks, gently swaying the two of you around,

Your heart lights up, already sewing itself together with what you believe to be false hope

Still, your hands press on his shoulders, moving your hips to the music

The alcohol in your system not nearly enough to have gotten you tipsy

"Yeah. Why?" you reply, smiling at the way his eyes seem so focused on your face,

He glows beneath the colorful lights,

"You look sad dancing with that dude" he explains, pulling you in a little closer

A smile hits your face again, you love that he noticed, you love that he watched you

"I was sad you were busy"

The boldness of your claim takes him by surpirse, chuckling at the unusual comment

He didn't know if you were serious, but he wanted to keep playing your game

"I was talking to my friend, waiting for you actually" he winks, spining you around once before you stumble against his chest,

"Oh yeah?" You laugh, focused on his little foot movements, the dance is becoming second nature, much like your back and forth

everyone disappears when he smiles down to you,

"Yeah, she and her girlfriend said you look pretty. We all agreed on that, maybe we do have a lot in common"

Suddenly, the weight of a thousand stones have been lifted from your heart,

A fresh breeze blooms within it, filling you with what you can only call confidence and hope,

Although it feels more secure than hope, almost evidently factual,

Both of you realized it in that very glimpse

"Wanna get out of here?" he whispers into your ear, having wrapped both of his arms around you, pulling you flush to his chest

You nod, biting back a grin you have waited to unleash

He returns it, taking your hand and rushing outside the club

From the corner of your eye you see jungwon shaking his head,

"Took them long enough" he tells nayeon

She smiles, sighing

"I know right"

Once the night has quieted down from outside of the busy club, only small street lights and some pedestrians are around

Even the music is almost completely deaf to your ears, a faint melody playing in what you wouldn't need to remember

He takes you by the hips, pulling you closer to his body,

"You know what this means i hope" he says, running his tongue over his lips,

you did, you knew the moment both of you smiled at each other after the relief of the truth,

You had waited your time, it was now finally your turn to collide

"What do you mean ?"

He snarks, tilting your chin up to him with a sincere look

Knowing you just needed him to say it,

"I love you. I've liked you for years, but i think today we were meant to connect"

The soft kiss he places on your longing lips seals his sincerity, moving slowly against you in a rhythm you've dreamed of

He feels like home, he feels like years spent were worth this one kiss

You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer,

"I love you too" you mumble, losing the words to a kiss that had spoken for you before you did,

"I know" he says, resting his forhead on yours with an unsteady breath, you can't help but scoff at his cocky tone

He just laughs in return, capturing your lips in another kiss of the same kind

"Wanna ride home with me?" he asks, clasping his hand in with yours and already walking along the rocky road

"On your bike?" you're snapping to look at him, glimmering with excitment

It has been one of your teenage dreams to ride on his bike with him, wrapping your arms around his waist and just feeling the freedom of the trust you have in him

His heartthrob allure only growing after he had gotten his license at 17

He says yes, stopping in front of the black, sleek looking bike,

"But it's late kook"

Without missing a beat,

"Stay the night. I've slept over a million times. I can sleep on the guest bed if you want me to"

Your cheeks fill with heat, turning your head sideways to hide your excitement

Still, he catches it, cupping your face to turn you back towards his loving eyes,

"So?"

You grin, "hell yes"

"Okay, you need to hold on tight" his head is covered by the large helmet, leather jacket zipped up all the way to the top,

Like a scene from a movie, your hair flows with the wind, hands tightening around his waist when he begins driving, not to slow, not too fast

"Feels so nice!" You shout, closing you eyes to indulge in this new found satisfaction,

He chuckles, shouting back

"Right? I'll drive you anywhere baby!" the sweetness of his voice doesn't feel forgein or like he's jumping ahead

It all falls together perfectly, like it had always been this way

Arrving at his front door a couple minutes later, he takes off the helmet and assists your leave from the bike

Unlocking the door and getting rid of the thick jacket, he stares at your revealing dress, this time, all of his sense fully able to concentrate on you

"Are you cold? You look stunning, by the way, in case you couldn't tell from how i can't stop looking" he takes his hands to run down your sides again, placing a small kiss on your nose,

"Thank you, i know i don't have to tell you, but you look really good too" you say, caressing his face with your hands,

He notes you didn't answer his question but he doesn't push, leading you to his couch to wrap you up comfortably either way

"I do know, but it's different when my girl says it" he mutters against your lips while he places you down on the couch, climbing to hover over you

Your lips move on their very own, focused on chasing after the love in his kisses, softly humming while playing with his hair

He sneaks his tongue into your mouth, wrapping it around yours and causing for a deeper kiss,

You take it, moaning softly into it and then you play with his bottom lip, swiping your tongue across the small metal ring,

"You're my girl, you know that, right princess?"

his hands wander to your arms, caressing them while his lips move to kiss down your neck, leaving traces of wet spots and little bruises on your soft skin

Moaning in pleasure and happiness, this feeling is what you've been longing for,

It's him, he is what you were missing

It's you, it's you he needed all along

"Yours, wanted it for so long" you mumble out, getting lost in the feeling of his warmth all over you,

You can feel him smile against your neck, his head lifts to look you directly into the eyes

He's a little blushed out, lips swollen and glazed and his pretty hair is slightly messed up

One of his hands makes its way to your face, grazing his thumb over your cheek and bottom lip

"Me too, i first realized when i was 17. You were so pretty and just so.. you. It only got worse by the day" he says, although he's slightly breathy in his voice, the statement is firm

Your heart jumps, you are you

And that was enough for him

When he shifts in the couch to be more comfortable, his hips press into yours

The barrier of your thin dress not nearly enough to stop feeling his bulge inside the jeans he's wearing,

You let out a small whimper just as he groans, quickly you hide under your hands

"Oh god i-i-m sorry" you stutter out but he makes it known he didn't mind, prying your hands away immediately

"It's okay pretty, you sound cute. Are you okay with this? If we're moving too fast-"

"Please?" your whine is soft; a plea to feel him more,

He smiles, kissing you with grace and lust,

"Anything for you"

Slowly, the bulge in his pants presses into you again, his hips roll into your heat carefully, the friction immediately eliciting small groans and whimpers from your mouths,

You kiss him again, moving your hands under his shirt to touch his abs while you continue cherishing his closeness, growing wetter by the second

He takes every little moan, starting to groan himself and growing more eager, more rapid with his movements,

"So pretty, can i touch your chest baby?" he whispers against your lips, opening his eyes to watch your tits move with every roll to your core, breath fanning over your lips as ragged as yours

"Mhh, yes, please kook"

His hands occupy themselves immediately, pulling down the straps of your dress and releasing them from the cups of your bra,

He takes a second to stare, listening to your little pleas while your face is glazed with pleasure and your exposed chest moves with you,

"You're a dream" he keeps pressing small kisses to your lips, hands now working against your chest.

Squeezing the flesh, rolling his fingers over your nipples

The moans from your mouth are now rapid, your clit overwhelmingly pleased with friction and the knot in your lower abdomen close to snapping,

"Feels so good kook, gonna cum" you whisper, pulling him into a deeper kiss by the neck,

"Cum for me pretty, doing so good" he says in that airy low voice and it only takes two more pushes to make you release into your soaked panties

He stops his hips slowly, listening to your little whimpers and collecting his breath

"Felt.. so good.." he mutters into your hair, pressing little kisses to your scalp

"Mhm.. you didn't cum did you?" your question seems almost absurd to him

He chuckles, looking at your pretty face under him,

"I did. I came like a teen in my boxers, i mean god look at you"

You laugh sweetly, kissing his cheek, he returns it shortly after

"Reminds me of when i once stole your shirt from jungwons room to masturbate with"

Shamelessly admitting to one of your most down- bad moments, knowing you wouldn't be judged

He gasps, sitting you up with him,

"Oh my god, i stole your panties once!" he laughs, your eyes widen in shock as you begin laughing with him

"The stuff we did as teens man" you say with a sigh, wrapping yourself in one of the blankets around

He furrows his eyebrows,

"Teens? I did that last year"

Another gasp, this time from you

He pinches your nose, shutting your words of disbelief up with a kiss,

"Shhh shh no more. Let's sleep, I'll give you my shirt, no need to steal them anymore"

You nod, yawning and falling into his arms,

He takes your body right up with him, picking you up to his room, where you'd be sleeping in his clothes, in his arms

Just where you belonged all this time.

[xhopelesslyromanticx]

A birkin bag for Y/n - Lando Norris x Horner! Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: sexual references, swearing, mentions of alcohol

summary: When Y/n‘s situationship gifts her a really expensive bag seemingly out of the blue it causes quite the talk in the paddock. Little does she know he‘s just trying to show everyone who she belongs to. (Inspired by the famous birkin bag scene in Gilmore Girls)

Lando was intrigued with you from day one. Literally from the get go. He remembers the first time he had bumped into you in the halls of his close friends home. He clearly remembers every second despite being hungover from the night before.

Your hands were jam packed with all kinds of crafting supplies that shattered on the ground, crayons spilling everywhere.

„Ah shit!“ the sleepy guy exclaimed as a small hand immediately slapped his shoulder. He looked at your face in shock. He was violently hungover from his late night celebraions with a certain three time world champion yet he had never seen such a beautiful thing.

„Shh!“ you whispered, him raising his brows questiongly „Penelope could hear you!“

Lando chuckled, as you started picking up all the crayons. He kneeled down grabbing some as well. He knew your face was somehow familiar. He couldn’t quite place it though. The freckles, the dimples and that hair.

„Babysitter?“ he asked mustering your face.

„Sort of.“ you nodded, shooting him an innocent yet friendly smile „Family friend.“

He hands you a blue crayon with a grin. You knew the grin probably made any girl weak in the knees and judging from the blonde woman you and little Penelope had watched stumble out of his room this morning while munching on your cereal, he knew as well.

„Well nice to meet you nanny.“

You cringe at the name before rolling your eyes „Nice to meet you to Lando.“

Lando had loved that. You hadn’t acted like you didnt know his name. You just didn’t care enough to pretend to ask. You smiled again before licking your lips and getting up. Hearing Penelope call your name. Y/n. What a name. He eatched you stumble away on that day, knowing he wanted to get to know you.

And he did. He learned very quickly,that you were in fact Horners daughter. Which was of course to his luck, because Christian loved him. So he showed up at family hosted events, made some apparences in the red bull motor home and before he knew it you spent the night at his.

Well it wasn‘t that easy. He had to do some convincing. But god Lando loved kissing you. He was addicted to it in fact. In every corner, whenever noone was watching his lips were on yours as he pressed you against the walls.

„Someone could see.“ you mumbled against his soft lips, slightly pressing your palms against his broad chest. Having to control youraelf from giving in.

„I don’t care.“ he chuckled his hands under your shirt rather quickly.

It was always like this. Sneaking around, yet most of the grid was aware off the little fling. But Lando had told you quite blank from day one; he didn’t do boyfriend and girlfriend. And having gotten out of a longer realitionship just months prior you were okay with that. You could do it, you thought. And it was fun for a minute. Exciting and new.

„No strings.“ you held out your little finger snd Lando rolled his eyes at the childish gesture. But he interwined his pinky with yours anyway after some hesitation. Laying on his hotelroom bed with your body next to his.

„No strings.“ he nodded. You smiled waiting for the next words before you raised your brows.

„You gotta say it.“ you exclaimed gesturing to your interwined hands.

„I don‘t want to.“ he groaned, his body pressing against yours as he was hovere above you.

„Okay.“ you nodded before turning around and crossing your arms „Then no sex.“

Lando chuckled pulling you into his body as he inhaled your scent „Fine.“

You smiled waiting to hear the words escape his lips as he pressed his lips against the crook of your neck „I pinky promise.“

Months passed like that. And it was fun for a moment. But reality eventually creeped back up. And as you were sat at brunch at your dads house back in England, having scrolled through endless pictures of Lando celebrating his podium in Silverstone the day prior. Including pictures of him with countless women. But you knew it was no fair. He could do whatever he wanted. Yet you somehow had gotten the sense that he maybe wasn’t sleeping around like that anymore. After all, you two saw eachother almost every week at least very two weeks. You just thought maybe it was heading somewhere, but clearly its wasn‘t.

It had been so easy. Life had been good. You had an internship at a sports paper back in Monaco. You were studying to be a journalist, meaning you weren’t necessairily location bound. And it allowed you to attend races. Which allowed you to see Lando. But not this race. You hsd promised Lando you‘d make it but cancelled last minute as you had to attend some stupid event in Monte Carlo. You had watched the race on the toilet, your phone in your hands the whole night. God you had been so proud once he had finished that crossing line. If only he knew how important he was to you. You think you might even have screamed a little when it was over. And of course you had immediately texted him. „Plan A babyyyy! so proud of you Lan, kisses and see you soon xx“

But there hadn‘t been any response. And seeing the pictures from the whole ordeal over the weekend you now understood why. While you had sat on the plan, still wearing your gown from the event he had been out and fooled around with lord knows who. You knew you had no right to be jealous or something. But you weren’t even jealous. You were just dissapointed, having expexted to be a little more important than that. But Lando was a player. He didn‘t do boyfriend/girlfriend.

You were so lost in your thoughts, not even having heard the front door open. Starkng at the perfectly arranged flowers your stepmom had on the wooden table. The whole house and every corner was so perfect, it made you think about how your dad really had a great woman by his side. She had made this place a home. Something it truly hadn’t been growing up there.

„Well good morning sweetheart!“ your fathers voice appeared behind you as your dad walked into the dining room where the brunch had been prepared.

Max and Kelly following behind him, having all drove out here to get some time off. The countryside the perfect place to do so. No people who‘d recognize you, not even in the little town nearby. And even if they did, they truly didn‘t care enough to bother you.

„Dad.“ you smiled getting up and hugging your father tightly, your arms wrapping stound his taller figure. Your dad quite suprised by the affectionate hug, as he held you close for some seconds; He immediately knew. From the second he saw you staring blankly at that wall just before to this desperate hug, something was wrong. He watched you greet everyone else with a somehow fake smile, including Max and Kelly who both hadn‘t seen you in some time as your job was keeping you really busy.

„What are you even doing back home?“ your dad later asked as everyone was eating.

„Well, I was suprised to to see her stumble in here this morning.“ Geri, your stepmom chuckled.

Max mustering you. He knew, he had seen the pictures. Well he had been there. Having told Lando if he was aware of the cameras on him as he was pushing his tounge down some girls throat. He even told some people to delete the photos. But people were drunk, plus Lando was famous. A deadly combination.

„What about Y/n, Lando?“

Max knew you two weren’t exactly offical. He had no idea what kind of realitionshipi it was. But he had seen you two. It was evident you both had feelings for eachother. So this was just stupid. It would hurt both of you. Especially you and Max thought of you like a little sister.

„Why should I care?“ Lando groaned sounding extremly cocky, making Max wanna puke. Lando scrunched his nose before he pushed past the dutch guy who just stood there baffled.

Now seeing your puffy eyes looking at everyone at the table. Max knew; you had seen the stupid pictures. You probably had flown out to England for Lando. And Lando had been an absolute idiot the past 24 hours.

„I wanted to suprise you.“ you whispered, lying to your dad. But your dad wasn’t stupid, he knew it probably had to do with a certain british boy who you seemingly had befriended ove the past few months. He had his concerns but you were a grown woman, he knew he shouldn’t get inbetween anything.So he just smiled before nodding „Well that’s nice. I‘m certainly surprised honey.“

The week passed quick. You spent some time with your siblings and Max and Kelly before saying your goodbyes again. Telling your dad you‘d see him in Hungary.

„Come to London please.“ You couldnt believe it. After three whole days of zero contact he had finally texted you. He didn‘t ask yet he clearly saw your instagram story showing you were back home. You wanted to text him, be mad and tell him how hurt you were. But you weren’t like this. Your weekend with your patents had made you realize you haf been raised better. Maybe you had lied to yourself. Maybe you couldn‘t do no strings attached. Maybe having standards was a good thing.

So you didn‘t respond. You told him a couple of days later; „sorry was busy, see you in hungary.“

It was the weekend before the Grand Prix you attended yet another absoluetly jam packed Gala event in Monaco. You were luckily not gonna be important next to all the stars and socialites there. So you put on some regular black dress, did your own hair and makeup before getting an uber there.

The evening was rather dull. But you‘d have to report on it for the paper next week so you had to stay for every second. You saw a couple if familiar faces, talked to some old family friends before admiring the beautiful hotel the thing was hosted at. The big chandeliers sparkling so brightly, you were bound to be mesmerized. It was then as you grabbed yet another glass of champagne when you turned around bumping into some guys chest.

„Oh. I‘m sorry!“ you exclaimed looking up at the familiar face. The blonde hair sitting ever so perfectly as the tailored suit sat on his broad shoulders. The tall guy shooting you a sly grin „You‘re fine my love dont worry.“

„Logan.“ you chuckled. Having seen the rookie a couple of times at least. But never really having spoken to him.

„Hello there.“ he waved awkwardly before induldging you in some small talk.

Logan was nice guy. Despite the internet making fun of him for his very american ways he was nice and polite. It started as nice chatters but somehow you two ended up at a corner at the empty bar, downing glass after glass of whatever alcoholic beverage the american ordered.

„So weird seeing you without Norris.“ he eventually bound up saying.

You scrunched your nose, a thing you always did but even more when you were drunk. If there was botox for that you might as well start young.

„Why is that weird?“ you giggle, your words coming out slower than usual as you kick your heels against the legs of the bar chair. Playing with the rim of your already empty champagne glass.

Logan looks down at you, seeing you nervously bounce your legs. He licks his lips, and if you weren‘t shitfaced you would have gotten the ick a long time ago. The guy was so obviously trying to flirt with you. Something you hated. Well except when Lando did it.

„Ah, I don‘t know I just thought he was your boyfriend?“

You burst out into laughter, causing some of the last people in there to look at you. Women being loud, something people clearly hated or were at least severly triggered by.

„What‘s so funny?“ Logan blushed looking around, kind of embarassed by the eyes on you. Lando would never be embarrassed. Yeah well Landos laugh was also way louder than yours.

„See…“ you catch your breath, before rolling your eyes and playfully punching his shoulder „Norris doesn’t do girlfriend boyfriend or boyfirend girfriend silly!“

Logan chuckled before his hand was placed on your upper thigh. It was like he had waited to hear that. It came so quick and at the most obvious time. The american guy leaned in towards you before whispering into your ear „You wanna head home?“

He smelled weird. No he actually smelled fine. He just didn’t smell like Lando. Lando smelled so perfect. Like your favorite smell ever.

Your heart ached for a second. This probably was good right? You had to do the whole multiple people thing. Lando was doing it. So you also had to.

„Why not?“

So you walked out the place with the blonde american. Not looking back once. Only what you didn‘t notice as you stumbled down the stairs with your heels in your hands was that, Arthur Leclerc who was Charles brother and Oscars best friend had waited for his girfriend outside when he spotted a very tipsy you get in a car with none other that Logan Sargeant.

The week passed rather quick and before you knew it you were sat on a plane towards Hungary. You were gonna arrive just in time for Qualifying. Heading straight from the airport to the paddock, having to change into a appropriate outfit at the airport toilet. Again. Low point.

It was a long taxi drive later that you made your way into the paddock, holding your recorder and noteclips. What you hadn’t known strutting, in there in your still perfectly white suit that could have used some ironing but no one’s perfect, that you actually had been the talk of the grid over the past two days.

Arthur Leclerc had a loose mouth. He had immediately texted Charles asking if Y/n Horner wasn’t involved with Lando Norris anymore. To which the older Leclerc responded that as far as he knew Lando and Y/n were somehow together all the time but not really exclusive. When Arthur dished the tea to him later the next day that he had seen you and Sargeant looking rather cozy with one another Charles immediately texted Carlos asking if there was trouble in heaven. The boys just loved gossip. And we all know who Carlos is best friends with.

On press day the ferrari driver asked his former teammate, right after getting of the panel „So Y/n’s really not as goody two shoes as we thought huh?“

Lando looked at him confused, he had just spent four days figuring what he had done to seemingly piss you off. No messages, the way you had stayed with your dad when you had promisef him to come to London. He missed you. He just couldn‘ admit that. No strings right? Plus he didn’t do boyfriend girlfriend.

„What do you mean? What about her?“

„Yeah well…“ Carlos chuckled awkwardly now spotting the very hot topic off his rumor talking to Oscar in the corner of the waiting room. Logan was showing Oscar something on his phone while the two youngest guys on the track waited for their turn to do interviews.

„Carlos, I don‘t have all day.“ Lando groaned, punching his friends shoulder „What about Y/n?“

Carlos contemplated for a second. He knew Lando was acting like he had no feelings for you but Carlos knew exactly that wasn‘t the case. He had after all been the one dragging the brit home after the silverstone afterparty. And the whole drive to the hotel the young Mclaren driver kept on talking about you and everything about you and everything about your looks and so on.

„Her eyes. Her hair, the way she scrunches her nose when shes confused.“ Lando slurred his head on Carlos lap as he was about to pass out „Y/n‘s just great. She- She is girlfriend material.“

„So Charles told me that Arthur told him. That last Saturday at some sort of Gala in Monaco, he spotted Y/n leaving with another driver…“

„What!“ Lando yelled immediately , causing everyone to look at him. Carlos hand covered his mouth, stopping him from screaming the place down. Shooting everyone an awkward smile as they continued their own thing with raised eyebrows.

„Shh!“ Carlos whispered as Lando looked at him in fury before removing the hand from his mouth.

„Don’t tell me to shush! Who the fuck did she leave with!“ he whisper yelled, and Carlos sighed. He really didn’t want any bad blood in between the grid to start because of him so he knew he couldn’t tell names:

„Well, Lando you two aren’t official so you dont really have the right to get mad at her.“ Carlos explained trying to sound reasonable. But Lando just raised his eyebrows holding up his hands clearly acting innocent as a lamb.

„Hold on! I‘m not mad at her! Im mad at whoever thinks its okay to take something that clearly belongs to me!“

Carlos chuckled. His friend sounded like a little kid in preschool who‘s toy was stolen. Guess that’s what love does to you „Lando first of all no one really knows if you two are offical or not…“

„I don‘t have to be offical with her, she‘s off limits for any other driver and they know it.“ he argues back and it actually makes so much sense in his head. Much more sense than it does to Carlos at least „If you don’t actually your car, I‘ll still never juste drive it.“

„But Y/n‘s not some bag Lando. You cant actually own her-„

„Thats it!“ Lando smiled and Carlos looked rather confused. He musters his seemingly insane friend who looked like he had just found the answer to lifes most profound question.

„What?“

„Im gonna get her a bag.“

You had just arrived at some food stand, grabbing a coffee and a bagle when a hand grabbed yours. You turned around looking up at the beautiful curly haired guy. Landos eyes looked at you as he had a huge grin on his face „Hey baby.“

„Lan.“ you stated, rather suprised by the bubbly greeting. Last time you had checked both of you were ignoring one another. But Lando didn‘t even give you any time, he put his hand on your back before guiding you towards the mclaren motorhome like he was on some sort of mission.

„What are you doing?“ you chuckled as he pulled you past security who grabbed your bagle and coffee as it was not allowed to bring food from outside. Rude. You looked Lando up and down as you followed him. He was already in race gear probably having to go on track any minute now.

The young guy didn’t say a word he just pulled you into his drivers room closing the door behind him quickly. Before he immediately smashes his lips against yours leaving you no choice but kiss him back. After a while you come to your senses as you push him off you “What‘s going on Lan?“

You missed this. But you weren’t naive, he was acting like you hadn‘t completely had zero contact over the last two weeks. Like he hadn’t ignored you for days after Silverstone. Lando pressed his lips together, his hands still on your waist. He looked like he was contemplating to say something but then shook his head.

„Baby.“ he whispered, his fingers digging into the material of your white blazer.

„Yes?“ you asked sounding rather hopeful. Maybe youw two were actually gonna talk for once.

Lando looked into your eyes before taking a deep breath „I got you something.“

He what? The brit now turned around and you looked at him dumbfounded. He walked over to the cabinet pulling out an orange paper bag. You furrowed your brows. Not understanding what on earth he was doing. He got you a present?

„Here.“ the brown haired handed you the big bag and you looked at him confused.

„It‘s not my birthday yet.“ you stated knowing your birthday was coming up soon. Maybe he had remembered wrong, wouldn’t be a suprise as he seemingly didn’t care where you had been the last two weeks.

„I know but just open it!“ he chuckled, sounding like an excited little boy. You can’t help but giggle nodding as you walk towards the table. You place the bag down pulling out an orange cotton bag. You look at Lando still lost before pulling out the inside. Holding a rathe big snd bright pink leather bag in your hand.

You scrunch your nose „A purse?“

„You dont like it?“ Lando looks panicked and you get even more confused. He sighs rubbing his face „I thought pink was your favorite color.“

„No it’s nice! Really nice!“ you admit looking at the bag „Im just confused why you got me a- a bag? I mean i know im a girl, and I love bags but why..“

„It‘s not just any bag.“ he chuckles, only now realizing you had no idea what you were holding in your hands. He forgot you actually grew up with only a father. This could be amusing.

„What is it then? A special bag?“

„Ah forget it.“ Lando shrugged it off, kissing your cheek . This maybe was actually good. If you didn’t know what the bag meant you‘d go parade it in front of everyone which was exactly what Lando wanted. This bag would surely keep anyone away „I hope you like it baby.“

„I love it Lan!“ you smiled, before tiptoeing and kissing his cheeks. In all honesty the bag was nice but you had still no idea why he‘d just gift you some purse. But you figured it was his way of aplogizing or somethingand you really had no time to discuss the matter at that moment „If you excuse me now I gotta go show everyone my new bag and you have to go race. Good luck!“

Lando couldnt believe it. His plan had sorta backfired. But in the weirdest most unexpected way. He was stunned as he watched you strutting away with your new bag in one hand as you grabbed your coffe on your way out. This could be fun.

Kelly was watching her boyfriend qualifying from the redbull garage as she noticed you walk up to her. The dark haired woman smiled talking off her headphones „Y/n!“

„Kells!“ you embraced her in a hug. You two catch up a little and you just wanna ask Kelly about Little P when her eyes fall onto the bright pink thing in your hand. Kelly raised her eyebrows staring at it“Wow does your internship suddenly pay that much?“

„What?“ you chuckled, noticing her eyes on your bag. You pull it up swinging it around a little before wiggling your eyebrows „Oh, this?“

You roll your eyes turning it around „It‘ a pretty nice bag right?“

Kelly looks at you a little stunned „Nice?“

„You dont like it?“ you ask mustering the older woman „Well you won’t believe this but Lando got me this, totally random!“

„Lando got you a birkin!“ Kelly now yelled covering her mouth in shock as everyone started to look at the two of you. It was then that your step mom appeared from the backroom, taking off her own headset. Looking at Kelly and than at you snd than the very pink bag in your hand.

„That’s what it‘s called?“ you scrunched your nose before chuckling„Its apparently a special purse.“

„Who got you this?“ Geri now asked looking utterly confused at the very beauty you were holding in your hands. She had seen her share of beautiful birkins but this was next level. You grew more confused by the second as people were suddenly hovered around you, well especially women.

„Well- Hello to you to.“ you say rolling your eyes „It‘s just a bag girls. Lando got me it and it was so weird, it was completly out of the blue!“

„Just a bag?“ Geri asked, looking at Kelly unbelievingly „Y/n thats a very nice purse!“

„Oh.“ you state, raising your eyebrows „Maybe I shouldn’t use it then?“

„Oh no, A birkin bag is meant to be used honey!“ Geri chuckled, and Kelly can’t help but laugh along still absolutely shocked„Max never got me a birkin bag.“

„Whatever.“ you now shrug not knowing how a bag could be such a big deal. The two women continue their jokes before you walk around and take off. You had work to do after all. You muster your bag one last time. A birkin bag. Whatever that was. You should probably google it later.

Talk of the bright pink birkin bag that had been gifter by the very Lando Norris spread like water. Soon everyone knew about the most expensive hermes bag being given to a certain young journalist who was parading it like she had zero idea what it was. Well, that was actually the truth. Even instagram had their fieldday seeing you enter Mclarens motorhomes with Lando and leaving it with a pink birkin.

But you were too busy to notice. You only noticed the stared from every woman passing you and the fact that even some of the drivers started whispering and pointing at you whenever you passed them.

When Carlos bumped into you and noticed the little thing in your hand he immediately wanted to slap Lando. He Couldn’t believe the young guy thad actually pulled through with the utter insane plan. He had watched the guy make five hundred calls the day prior. If he had known what kinda bag he was on the hunt for, he‘d probably tell him to forget it.

„Max!“ Carlos yelled running up to the dutch driver, Max turning around „Yes?

„Did you see what he did?“ Carlos asked completely out of breath. Max raised his eyebrows taking a sip of his water in his Red Bull bottle.

„Who did what?“ Max asked, looking at the spanish ferrari driver.

„Lando.“ he stated and Max ju shrugged his shoulders, completely oblivious to the gossip that had been circulating all day„He bought her a birkin bag!“

„Who?“

„Y/n!“

„That little sly fuck!“ Max cussed, not actually believing what he was hearing. Everyone knew what gifting a birkin to a woman means. It‘s like putting a lock on her. It could be only described as some sort of pre proposal, letting every guy know: she is in fact off limits and you better back off.

„He couldnt ask her out normally huh?“ Max laughed shaking his head, grinning at the thought of the young brit.

„No. It‘s Lando. Typical Lando.“

On race day you decided you had enough for once and for all from the stares shot your way every second you walked through the paddock. The bag was pretty yes, but people were surely acting like it was a god. You walked into the redbulm garage approaching Kelly who was stood there with Max and your dad.

„Guys!“ they all stared at you as you looked at them in frustration.

„What the hell is the deal with this stupid purse!“ you held up the thing once again and your dad looked at you suprised while Max chuckles. There‘s a moment of silence before your father crosses his arms, raising his eyebrows.

„It‘s hideous?“ Christian asked. Max and Kelly looking at both of you stunned.

„Dad!“ you punched him with the bag as he laughed like an evil witch. He always made fun of your clothes so this wasn’t personal.

„Y/n!“ Kelly yells before the panicked women reaches out to garv the bag out of you hands like it was a child in need. She wrapped her arms around it protectively looking at you in fury. Meanwhile you look at her like she’s the one that’s lost her mind and so does your dad.

„What the-„

„Okay Christian.“ Max took a deep breath, looking at Kelly who was looking at him in desperation. Silently begging him to put an end to her misery of watching you treat a birkin like that„You may wanna take a seat for this.“

„Bullocks.“ Christian chuckled raising his eyebrows as you looked at Max confused. What was everyone’s problem?

„Well, this bag.“ Max ponited at the thing in Kellys hand and you looked at him exceptingly „It’s a birkin bag. And Lando gave it to you? Right Y/n?“

You slowly nodded, your dad already confused on why Lando would even buy you a bag in the first place. You weren’t that serious, right?

„Well its a forty thousand dollar bag. At least.“ Kelly now stated.

You felt like your heart stopped beating „A what?“

„Why?“ your dad now looks at you putting two and two together „Why does Norris gift you a forty thousand dollar bag Y/n?“

„I- Uhm.“

„I don’t know?“ you lied, before going to grab the bag from Kelly’s hand. Your dad throwing daggers at you. Realizing his daughter actually isn’t as innocent as she seems. You grin awkwardly „If you excuse me now. I gotta go!“

You wahtched the race from the stands, figuring you‘d be safest there as you tried to grasp the sheer fact that Lando had actually bought you a bag that cost more than all your other bags combined. And god you didn’t even say thank you really. But you also truly didn’t understand why he‘d do something so insane. This was serious. You don‘t gift bags like this to your situationship. After a long day you finally headed back to the hotel. Texting Lando to come to your room to talk on your way there.

You were getting ready to out to dinner with your family when a knock appeared at your door. In nothing but yout bathrobe you went to open the door expecting it to be Lando only to be met with a certain american guy lean against your doorframe „Howdy.“

„Logan.“ your eyes were wide open as he looked you up and down with a sly grin.

„Greetings.“ god he was unbarebale when not drunk. You look at the taller guy an awkward grin plastered on your lips.

„What do you want?“ you asked and you knew it sounded quite rude. But you quite honestly didn’t care because Lando could show up any second and you didn’t exactly want him to find you here with Logan.

„I wanna talk.“ He speaks as he pushes past you. You watch him enter your room. Well he was persistent.

„Well, now really is a bad time.“ you stated gesturing to your soaking wet hair and bathrobe. He really had to leave.

„How so?“

„Well, to be quite frank.“ but you couldnt finish it because a second later the door opened behind you. You shut your eyes knowing exactly who that was and how this was gonna look for you. Lando walks in fully dressed for the night, spotting you stand there in your bathrobe, your back turned towards him and in the room none other than. What? Logan? Really?

„What the fuck is he doing here.“ Lando asked not even acknowledging Logans presence. Great. Could anything go your way. You sighed turning around and looking at him „Lan…“

„I‘m here to pick her up for dinner.“ Logan states crossing his arms. You turn back around. He was not serious. „What?“

„Excuse me?“ Lando hissed, clearly already getting worked up about the fact that the Williams driver had the audacity to show up here after he had clearly made sure the whole paddock knew you were his. The birkin had done his job. People had already texted him congratulations on the realitionship.

„Yes remember, we made the plans last week when I came to your place?“ Logan asks you, quite literally doing it on purpose. You knew he was doing it on purpose.

„So hold on!“ Lando grabbed your shoulde and you turned around to look at his pissed off expression „He‘s the other driver?“

„The other what?“ you exclaimed being quite lost. Logan just chuckling, he had heard that Lando was trying scare someone off, apparently it was him. It mad Logan chuckle, surely you wouldn’t be so easy right?

„Last week you left an event with another driver!“ Lando hissed, pointing at the blonde american whi stood there with a cocky smile “It was him?“

„Yes.“ Logan grinned and you knew if he wanted Lando to punch him he was almost there. The brit had a short temper for stuff like this.

„Wait!“ you now yelled turning your attention towards Lando only „How do you know that!“

„Arthur saw you.“ Lando hissed, looking at you with a digusted expression. He starts to pace up and down the room and you roll your eyes at the dramatics.

„Lando calm down!“

„He’sinsane.“ Logan chuckled, shaking his head „Thinking he can put dibs on girl with some freaking bag just because he‘s too stupid to ask her out.“

„Logan!“ you now sighed , pointing at the door „Leave!“

Logan looks at you unamused but seeing you were serious. He rolls his eyes before pushing past you and leaving your room. Slamming tbe door shut on his way out, causing you to flinch as you stare at Lando who‘s looking like some maniac.

„Jesus!“ you sighed.

„Did you have s*x with him?“ Lando asked, blurting it out without hesitation but scared of the answer. You looked at him completely lost on what gave him that idea. Arthur for sure wasn’t a reliable source. Noted.

„What if I did Lando? We agreed on no strings!“ you tried to reason with him. The whole bag thing and him acting all jealous. It made zero sense „Its not like you weren‘t the one who was partying with a million girls after Silverstone.“

„Because I was mad at you!“ Lando now yelled. He really hated to admit this. He hated talking. He‘d rather buy you a million birkins but he knew his words were now needed.

„For what?“

„For not being there. You knew how important it was for me!“

„Lando I had to work!“ you sighed, still lost on how this all made sense „Thats why you slept with other women? Because you missed me?“

„I didn‘t sleep with anyone!“ he now defensed himself. You take a step back raising your brows as you realize you had been foolish.

„But the pictures?“

„Yes I made out with some of them. Im not proud. But I went home with Carlos.“ he sighed, looking at your smaller frame „And I got you that bag hoping you‘d forgive me for that. Well I also got it to scare the competition off.“

„Why didnt you say anything?“

„The bag speaks for itself or so I thought.“ he shakes his head „Only I forgot you aren’t like every other girl.“

„Lan.“ you smiled weakly, approaching him and putting your hand against his face „It‘s a nice bag. But unfortunately you will have to take it back because baby, forty thousand dollars? Thats ridiculous!“

Lando chuckled knowing how insane he sounded. He looked down at you „It was fifty thousand actually. I was trying compete with the other driver. If had known it was Sargeant I‘d gotten you something cheaper trust me.“

You can’t help but laugh „You’re mean!“

„No but seriously? He’s american!“ Lando said his voice all high pitched.

„I know.“ you. giggle, shaking your head „I didn’t t sleep with him tough baby. So you can take the bag back and buy yourself a car.

„Oh thank god!“ Lando sighed in relief his whole body relaxing. God he could be dramatic.

„I thought I was gonna have to pull an exorcism to get that thought out of my head.“

„Well we kissed.“ you smirk „So theres your exorcism.“

Lando fake gags and you punch his shoulder. Before wrapping your arms around his neck. Tugging on his curls. You look into his beautiful eyes, and he smiles down at you.

„So this no strings thing.“ he mumbles, biting the inside of his cheek. You feel your heart flutter as he comes down and kisses your lips softly his hand on your chin. He smiles „Its really just silly isn‘t it?“

You giggle „It is silly baby.“

„Okay from now on its strings baby.“ he states his hands wrapping around you body.

„Oh-„ you look at him with a scrunched nose „You might wanna skip that and go do boyfriend girlfriend right away.“

„Why?“

„Mhm…“ you sighed „Pretty sure my dad knows we had s*x.“

„What?!“ his eyes are wide open „How?“

„The stupid-„ you start but he interrupts you with raised brows.

„Birkin Bag.“

[pucksandpower]

Meant to be His

Day 30 → Innocence Kink 💋 CEO!Lando Norris

Warnings: 18+ content, dubious consent, breeding, and manipulation

Kinktober Masterlist

Lando leans back in his sleek, black leather chair, eyes glued to the door of his office. It’s been like this for months now. You waltz in every morning, completely oblivious to the storm brewing inside of him, completely unaware that he’s one wrong word away from losing it.

He tightens his grip on his Montblanc pen, watching you through the glass wall as you flutter about the office, bow in your hair, soft pink dress neatly pressed, kitten heels clicking softly against the marble floors. Innocent. Always so damn innocent.

He’s sure it’s an act. It has to be.

“Mr. Norris, do you need anything else before your meeting at two?” Your voice cuts through his thoughts like it’s nothing, and the soft, sweet tone of it only aggravates him further.

Lando exhales sharply, spinning his chair back to face his computer, pretending to check an email that he isn’t actually reading. “No. I’m fine.”

There’s a pause. You’re still standing there, he can feel it. His jaw tightens. She’s waiting for something, but what? An opportunity to toy with him again, no doubt. He glances up, catching your eyes.

“You sure? You seem tense,” you ask, that genuine concern on your face so perfectly played. You look so innocent. But Lando doesn’t buy it. Not anymore.

“I’m sure,” he says flatly, forcing his voice to stay calm. You smile, nodding before heading out of his office, your perfume trailing behind like some kind of torture. Sweet, light, impossible to ignore.

His eyes follow you as you return to your desk, and for the life of him, Lando can’t figure out how you do it. How you manage to walk around here, day after day, pretending like none of it affects you. The looks, the way he tenses up every time you’re near, the way his pulse races when you lean over his desk just a little too close to hand him a file.

You. Must. Know.

But you carry on, head buried in textbooks between calls, your fingers skimming through pages of what looks like accounting formulas while you answer emails. How the hell does someone focus on their studies while managing the workload he throws at you? And always with that ridiculous little bow in your hair. It drives him insane.

His phone buzzes, snapping him out of his thoughts. He glances down.

Max: Dinner tonight?

Lando ignores the text. He can’t think about dinner right now. His attention is on you, watching the way your lips move when you hum softly to yourself, tapping away at your keyboard. Do you know what you’re doing? Do you have any idea?

No, of course you do. You’ve got him right where you want him — second-guessing everything. Lando feels his frustration simmering, the tight knot of control he keeps around his emotions starting to fray. He’s built his career on maintaining composure, being the one who’s always a step ahead, but this — you — are throwing him off balance.

He hates that.

“Hey.” His voice cuts through the stillness, sharp. He doesn’t know what he’s about to say, but he’s tired of staying silent. “Can you come in here for a second?”

You look up, slightly startled, and he watches as you smooth down your dress before stepping into his office. The door closes with a soft click behind you.

“Yes, Mr. Norris?”

He doesn’t respond immediately, eyes narrowing as he watches you. His thumb taps rhythmically on the arm of his chair, thoughts racing. Your tone is so polite, so professional, as if you’re not in the slightest aware of the mess you’ve made of him.

“That report — did you finish it?”

Your head tilts slightly, confused. “Yes, I emailed it to you this morning. Did you need something else added?”

“No.” Lando pauses, his eyes lingering on the bow in your hair. It's small, white, and so out of place in this cold, polished world of corporate dominance. Yet you wear it like it belongs. It makes him irrationally angry, but he can’t say why. “I got it. You can go.”

There’s that pause again, your eyes searching his face for something, but you don’t push. You never push. Instead, you nod politely and turn to leave, but something inside him snaps.

“Why do you do that?” His voice is harsher than he intends, but he doesn’t care.

You turn slowly, brows furrowed. “Do what?”

“That.” He gestures vaguely toward you, frustration bubbling over. “You walk around here like nothing bothers you. Always … smiling. Always so damn-” He stops himself, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He doesn’t want to say it, but it’s on the tip of his tongue. Innocent. Always so damn innocent. He grits his teeth instead. “Forget it.”

You blink, clearly taken aback. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?”

The sincerity in your voice almost makes him feel guilty. Almost. But no, this is part of it, isn’t it? You play this innocent card so well, like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing to him. He stands abruptly, crossing the room in two quick strides until he’s standing in front of you.

“Wrong?” His voice lowers, eyes burning into yours. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

You look up at him, wide-eyed, still confused. “Then what-”

“You can go.” He cuts you off, voice tight, jaw clenched. “Get back to work.”

Your lips part as if to say something, but you close them again, giving him one last glance before nodding and stepping out of his office. The second the door closes, Lando exhales sharply, running both hands through his hair.

He’s losing control. He never loses control. Not like this. He doesn’t lose sleep over things he can’t have. That’s not who he is. But you — you’re making him unravel.

He moves back to his desk, his eyes once again finding you through the glass. You’ve already gone back to work like nothing happened, typing away, completely oblivious to the storm raging inside him. How can you be so unaware?

Lando clenches his fists, determination settling in his chest. No, you’re not unaware. You can’t be. You’ve been playing this game for months, testing him, pushing him to the edge, making him question everything he’s built. But if this is a game, it’s one he’s determined to win.

This ends soon.

Whatever you’re doing — whether you’re aware of it or not — Lando is done letting it get to him. He’s done letting you have the upper hand.

It’s time to do something about it.

***

The morning sun filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Lando’s office as he sits behind his desk, trying to drown himself in spreadsheets and stock analyses. But his focus wavers every few minutes, his eyes drifting toward your desk, watching you chew absentmindedly on the end of a pen while scrolling through emails. The quiet hum of the office is nothing more than white noise, and no matter how hard he tries, you’re there. In his head. In his line of sight.

He rubs the bridge of his nose, frustrated, trying to get a grip. Yesterday’s conversation replays in his mind, your wide-eyed confusion, the softness of your voice, the bow in your hair. He told himself he’d put an end to it, but now, here you are again, all cute dresses and innocence, as if you haven’t been driving him insane for months.

Then, he sees it.

You’ve unwrapped a lollipop, the plastic crackling softly as you slide it into your mouth, your lips closing around the candy in a way that feels intentional. Lando’s stomach tightens. His jaw clenches as he watches the slow swirl of your tongue around the stick. He knows he should look away, that he’s letting himself spiral, but his eyes stay locked on you. You’re concentrating on your screen, tapping at the keyboard, entirely oblivious to the effect you’re having on him.

He shifts in his chair, feeling the sudden constriction in his pants, the tightness unbearable. His breath comes harder, shallow. He balls his fists on the desk, eyes narrowing. That’s it. He’s had enough.

He stands abruptly, the chair scraping behind him. His body moves before his mind catches up, the determination settling into his steps as he crosses the office in long, forceful strides. He doesn’t even bother knocking. He doesn’t need to. He owns this place.

“Come into my office,” he says, voice low, tight.

You look up, startled, your lips still wrapped around the lollipop. “Now?”

“Now.”

You blink, eyes wide as you quickly nod, pulling the candy from your mouth and holding it awkwardly between your fingers. You stand, smoothing out your dress as you follow him, heels clicking softly behind him.

The second you step inside, he closes the door with a deliberate, heavy thud. His office feels smaller today, the air thick, charged. He doesn’t even look at you as he walks to his desk, his movements sharp, controlled, as if he’s barely holding onto the last threads of his restraint.

“Did I — did I do something wrong?” Your voice is soft, confused, and that only makes it worse. How could you be so unaware? How could you stand there, looking at him like that, when he’s been on edge for weeks?

Lando’s silence hangs heavy between you, and you shift nervously, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. That innocent little dress that clings to your waist just enough to remind him of every single curve.

“If I’ve made a mistake-”

He cuts you off with a sharp movement, his arm sweeping across the desk, sending papers, pens, and his phone crashing to the floor in one swift motion. The noise echoes through the office, loud, final.

You jump, eyes wide, taking a step back. “Mr. Norris-”

“Enough.” His voice is deep, guttural, and he steps toward you, crowding your space, forcing you backward until your thighs bump against the edge of the now-cleared desk. “You think you can keep teasing me, walking around here like this?”

Your eyes widen, genuine confusion etched on your face. “I-I’m not — I didn’t-”

“You know exactly what you’re doing.” His hands find your hips, fingers digging in just hard enough to keep you there, to stop you from retreating. You’re trapped, and he knows it. He’s planned it. His frustration, his anger — it’s all coming to a head, and there’s no going back now. “With your little dresses, your bows, that sweet little act. All of it.”

Your breath hitches, and for a second, Lando thinks he sees it — something flicker in your eyes. But then your voice, soft and trembling, breaks the moment. “I haven’t-”

“Innocent,” he spits the word like it’s a curse, fingers tightening on your waist. “Always so innocent. But if you’re going to act like that, you better be ready to pay for it.”

Your eyes dart to the door, panic creeping into your expression. “Mr. Norris, I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I swear, I-”

Before you can finish, he pushes you down onto the desk, the cool surface pressing against your back. His hands slide up your thighs, bunching the fabric of your dress as he leans over you, breath hot against your ear.

“You really think I believe that? You’ve been teasing me for months. The way you look at me, the way you walk around in those outfits like you don’t know what it does to me.” He’s practically growling now, his control slipping further with every word. “You’re not fooling anyone.”

“I haven’t-” You shake your head, breath coming faster, your voice breaking. “I swear, I didn’t mean to-”

He cuts you off with a hand on your thigh, pushing the fabric of your dress higher, exposing the soft skin of your legs. His breath catches in his throat as he finally sees it — the tiny bows decorating the edges of your underwear. Innocent, delicate, just like everything else about you.

“Of course,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, his voice dark with disbelief. “Even your underwear has bows.”

You look up at him, eyes wide, lips trembling as you try to form words, but nothing comes out. You’re confused, scared even, but Lando’s mind is too clouded with months of frustration to see it clearly. All he knows is that you’ve pushed him too far, and now he’s about to push back.

Lando’s fingers toy with the delicate bows on your underwear, his grip tightening, anger laced with disbelief. Every detail of you, from your soft lips to the innocent little things you wear — it all feels designed to torment him. And now, this. The proof in the form of those bows only furthers his conviction that it’s all some calculated game. You have to be messing with him.

“Why would you wear something like this?” His voice is low, dark, as he tugs at the fabric just enough to make you gasp, your body trembling under his. “It’s pathetic. Like you’re trying to act sweet and untouched, but we both know the truth.”

Your eyes are wide, pleading, but you don’t say anything. Lando’s face hardens as he looks down at you. He doesn’t believe a word you’ve said — how could he? He knows the games women play, knows how they can hide behind innocent faces while pulling the strings behind the scenes. You’re no different. You can’t be.

But he needs to be sure.

Lando leans over you, his body pressing down on yours as his hands slide higher, pulling your underwear aside. The fabric moves easily, but what he finds next stops him cold.

His fingers pause, eyes narrowing as he pushes a little further, a soft pressure meeting his touch. His pulse quickens. For a second, his brain can’t quite process what he’s feeling. There’s no way. Not you.

He pushes a little harder, confirming what his mind refuses to accept. You tense beneath him, your breath shaky, and that’s when it hits him like a truck.

You’re a virgin.

A wave of shock floods through him, wiping away the rage that had been bubbling up inside. His mind races, trying to reconcile the idea of you — the teasing, innocent act he thought you’d been playing — with the reality of what he’s just discovered. You’ve never been touched. Not by him. Not by anyone.

He pulls back slightly, staring down at you in disbelief. “You're serious.” His voice comes out harsher than intended, but it’s the only thing that manages to escape his mouth. His breath hitches as the realization fully settles.

Your lips part, trembling. “I-I told you,” you whisper, barely able to meet his eyes. “I wasn’t … I didn’t …”

Lando stares at you, the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in his mind. The shy looks, the blushing, the fidgeting. It wasn’t an act. You really are innocent. You’re untouched. Pure. And all this time, he’d been imagining the worst. Misreading every single thing about you.

A flood of possessiveness surges through him, stronger than anything he’s ever felt. He’s the first. He’s going to be the only one. His hands slide up your body, slower this time, deliberate. You’re his now. Completely. You’ve always been his, but now it’s clear. He’ll make sure of it.

“You're mine,” he murmurs, voice low and commanding. His eyes burn into yours as he leans in closer, his lips brushing your ear. “Do you understand that?”

You swallow hard, nodding slightly, though your face is still a mix of fear and confusion. He doesn’t care. You’ll understand soon enough.

He reaches for the lollipop laying abandoned on the desk, the one you had been sucking on earlier. Without breaking eye contact, he brings it to his mouth, licking the candy slowly, his tongue swirling around it just as he’d imagined watching you do the same. It’s sweet, just like you.

Then, without warning, he presses the lollipop back to your lips, his eyes darkening. “Open your mouth,” he orders softly.

You hesitate for a second, but his gaze is unrelenting, powerful, and you obey. Your lips part slowly, and he slips the lollipop into your mouth, watching with satisfaction as you close your lips around it. There’s something primal in the way he watches you now, the way your innocence only fuels the possessiveness raging inside him.

He leans down, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. “Don’t leave after work today,” he whispers, the words rough and commanding. “You’re coming home with me.”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes wide, but you don’t protest. You don’t argue. You just look up at him, the lollipop still between your lips, and nod. He smirks, brushing a thumb across your cheek before pulling back, taking in the sight of you sprawled on his desk, dress bunched around your thighs, your lips wrapped around the candy he gave you.

His.

All of you.

***

The hours after Lando’s quiet command crawl by at a pace that feels like torture. He watches you from his office, stealing glances through the glass partition. You’re fidgety, distracted, clearly unsettled by what transpired. Your fingers keep brushing the spot on your lips where his lollipop had been, your gaze downcast, stealing anxious looks toward his office door. He finds it hard to focus on anything else, his mind swirling with the anticipation of what’s coming.

Finally, the workday ends. The usual shuffle of employees packing up to leave passes in a blur for him, and when he sees you stand to collect your things, his heart kicks into overdrive. This is it.

You look hesitant as you walk toward the door, but Lando meets you in the hallway before you can even reach for your coat. His voice is quiet, commanding, as he speaks. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

You don’t say a word, just nod and follow him. It’s all you can do. You’re out of your element, swept up in a current you don’t understand, but something about his presence makes resistance feel impossible.

The elevator ride down to the underground parking lot is thick with tension. He can feel your anxiety radiating off you in waves, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. His hand rests on the small of your back as you step out, guiding you to his sleek McLaren. The doors unlock with a soft click, and he gestures for you to get in.

Once inside, the car roars to life with a low, throaty hum as Lando pulls out of the parking garage, the city lights blurring into streaks of color as they hit the road. For a while, the drive is silent, save for the soft purr of the engine and the occasional sound of your nervous breath.

Lando’s grip on the steering wheel is tight, but he allows one hand to drift away, resting on the center console. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. You’re staring out the window, fingers twisting in your lap, the tension in your shoulders palpable. His gaze lowers, following the line of your thighs beneath your dress, and something in him snaps.

Slowly, deliberately, he lets his hand fall to your knee, his fingers brushing against your bare skin. The effect is immediate — you stiffen, your breath catching in your throat, but you don’t move. You don’t push him away.

His hand stays there, warm and firm, his thumb tracing slow circles on your thigh as he drives. He doesn’t speak, but the weight of his touch says more than words could. It’s a reminder, a promise. You’re his now, and tonight, he’s going to make sure you know it.

The tension between you both is electric, humming in the space between his hand on your leg and your racing pulse. You bite your lip, a futile attempt to steady your breath, but Lando can sense it — the nervous anticipation that’s eating at you, the mix of fear and something else, something you’re not quite ready to acknowledge.

The drive is short, the distance between his office and his penthouse a blur. Before you know it, he’s pulling into the private garage beneath his building. The McLaren comes to a smooth stop, and Lando kills the engine, the silence that follows heavy and oppressive.

“Let’s go,” he says quietly, stepping out of the car and coming around to your side before you can even unbuckle your seatbelt. He opens the door for you, his hand outstretched. You hesitate for only a second before placing your hand in his, allowing him to help you out.

His grip tightens as he leads you toward the private elevator. The doors close behind you with a soft hiss, and the moment you’re sealed inside the confined space, you feel his presence even more intensely. His hand slides up your back, fingers pressing into the curve of your spine as the elevator ascends.

When the doors slide open again, you’re in his penthouse — a sprawling space of glass and steel, modern and minimalist, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city below. But you don’t have time to take it in. Lando’s hand is still on your back, guiding you through the entryway, through the open living space, until you’re standing in the middle of his bedroom.

The door clicks shut behind you, the sound echoing through the large, empty space. You can hear your own breath, shallow and quick, the thud of your pulse loud in your ears. But Lando is calm, methodical, as he steps in front of you, his gaze never leaving your face.

“Come here,” he murmurs, his voice soft but commanding.

Your legs feel weak, but you take a step forward. His hands find your waist immediately, pulling you closer, his breath warm against your temple as he presses a kiss to your hairline.

“Do you know what happens now?” His voice is low, a quiet rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. You shake your head, barely able to think, let alone respond. Lando pulls back just enough to look down at you, his expression unreadable. “You’re mine. I told you that.”

You nod, swallowing hard, unable to speak. You can feel his hands moving again, tugging at the hem of your dress, pulling it up slowly, exposing more and more of your skin until it’s bunched around your waist. You gasp softly, feeling his hands on your bare thighs again, the same spot he’d touched in the car, but now his touch is more urgent, more possessive.

He pushes you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the plush mattress as he leans over you, his eyes dark and focused. “I’m going to make sure of it,” he murmurs, his hands slipping beneath your thighs, spreading them apart as he positions himself between your legs.

Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers find the barrier again, that small, fragile proof of your innocence. He pauses, his eyes narrowing as he looks down at you.

“You really were telling the truth.” His voice is low, almost disbelieving, as if the idea of you being untouched still doesn’t fully compute in his mind. He’s quiet for a moment, and then his expression shifts, a dark, possessive gleam entering his eyes. “You’re mine,” he whispers again, and this time, there’s no doubt in his voice.

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes filling with tears, overwhelmed by everything — the intensity of his gaze, the feel of his hands on you, the weight of what’s happening. A tear slips down your cheek, and Lando’s lips are on you immediately, kissing it away, his breath warm and soft against your skin.

“Shh,” he coos, his voice soft now, almost tender as he kisses your tears. “Don’t cry. You’re all mine now, and I’m going to take care of you. I promise.”

His hands are gentle as he pushes through the barrier, his eyes locked on yours, watching every flicker of emotion that crosses your face. You let out a soft, broken gasp, and Lando leans down to kiss you, swallowing the sound as he moves deeper. His lips trail over your cheek, your jaw, your neck, kissing away every tear, every bit of hesitation.

Lando’s grip on your hips tightens, his breath coming in slow, deliberate waves as he watches your every move. There’s a fierce, possessive satisfaction in his eyes as he presses further into you, feeling the way your body reacts, the soft gasps escaping your lips, the way your fingers curl into the sheets. He’s in complete control, and that’s exactly how he wants it.

You’re his now. Completely. And he’s going to be the first — the only one — to take you over the edge. That thought alone sends a surge of pride through him, dark and possessive. The world has never touched you the way he’s about to. You’re untainted, and he’s going to keep it that way.

“Look at me,” he commands, his voice low and rough as his hand finds your chin, tilting your face toward him. Your eyes flutter open, wide and unsure, still glistening from the tears he kissed away moments ago. There’s an innocence in your gaze, a vulnerability that cuts through the sharp edge of his dominance for a moment, but he pushes that aside. He wants you to look at him — not in fear, but in understanding.

“This is how it’s going to be,” Lando murmurs, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he holds your gaze. “I’m the only one who gets to do this. No one else. Ever. Do you understand?”

You nod, your breath catching in your throat, and he smirks. “Say it,” he demands, his thumb brushing over your lips. “Say that you’re mine.”

“I-I’m yours,” you whisper, your voice shaking, but there’s something else in it now. A tremor of something more than fear — something closer to surrender.

“That’s right.” He leans in closer, his lips brushing your ear as his voice drops to a whisper. “You belong to me. And I’m going to show you exactly what that means.”

He moves deliberately, his hands sliding down your body, claiming every inch of you as he goes. His touch is firm, authoritative, yet maddeningly slow, building a tension between you that leaves you trembling beneath him. Lando can feel the way your body reacts to him, the way you instinctively arch into his touch, even though you try to hold back. It makes him smile, dark and knowing. You might be innocent, but your body is learning quickly. It’s beginning to respond to him, just like he knew it would.

“Don’t fight it,” he murmurs, his hand sliding between your thighs, teasing, as his fingers brush lightly against your skin. “You want this. I can feel it.”

You make a soft sound in the back of your throat, a shaky, half-swallowed whimper, but you don’t pull away. You don’t deny it. Because deep down, even if you don’t want to admit it, you do want this. You want him. He knows it.

Lando’s lips curve into a satisfied smirk as he continues his slow, torturous movements, his fingers moving in perfect rhythm with the soft gasps that escape your lips. He watches every flicker of emotion on your face, every shiver that runs through you as he pushes you closer to the edge. You’re so close — he can feel it.

“I can feel you trembling,” he whispers, his voice dark and seductive as he leans down, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “You’re almost there, aren’t you? You’ve never felt this before, have you?”

You shake your head, your breath coming in shallow, desperate gasps now, and Lando feels a rush of satisfaction. He’s right. No one else has ever brought you this close. No one else has ever touched you like this. And no one else ever will.

“I’m going to be the first,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck as his hand moves with agonizing precision, his fingers coaxing soft, breathless sounds from you. “The only one to make you feel this way. Do you know how good it’s going to feel, baby? How good I’m going to make you feel?”

Your only response is a soft whimper, your body arching beneath him as you inch closer to that tipping point. Lando can feel it in the way your body moves, the way your fingers clutch at the sheets, desperate for something to hold on to. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin, his voice barely a whisper.

“Don’t hold back,” he coos, his voice dark and commanding. “I want to see you fall apart for me.”

His words send a shiver through you, and Lando can feel the way you’re teetering on the edge, the way your body is trembling, so close, so painfully close. But he doesn’t let up. He won’t let you slip away from this.

And then, with a deliberate, calculated move, he pushes you over the edge.

The gasp that leaves your lips is soft, broken, and Lando watches with dark satisfaction as your body tenses, your eyes squeezing shut as you finally fall. He keeps his touch steady, guiding you through it, his voice low and soothing as he coaxes you through the overwhelming rush of sensations.

“There it is,” he murmurs, his hand still moving in that same, steady rhythm. “Let it happen. Let me see you.”

Your breath comes in sharp, uneven gasps as your body trembles beneath him, and Lando can’t help the satisfied smirk that tugs at his lips. He’s the first to do this to you. He’s the only one who ever will.

As you come down from the high, your body slowly relaxing, Lando’s hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. He leans down, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, his voice soft but firm. “And I’ll never let you forget that.”

You don’t respond, your breath still shaky as you lie beneath him, your body completely spent. But Lando doesn’t need a response. He knows you understand. You belong to him now, in every way that matters.

***

Lando wakes early, the soft light of dawn filtering through the sheer curtains in his penthouse bedroom. The city outside is still and quiet, a far cry from the chaos of the day that is yet to begin. He blinks, his eyes adjusting to the gentle light, and then his gaze falls on you, lying beside him, still asleep.

The sight of you — curled up under the covers, your breathing slow and peaceful — does something to him. It’s as if, in sleep, you’ve become even more vulnerable, even more innocent. Your face is relaxed, lips slightly parted, your hair falling messily across the pillow. There’s a softness to you now, a contrast to the tension that had filled the air between you both the night before.

Lando’s chest tightens as he watches you, his mind racing. How could someone like you, with your wide-eyed innocence and shy demeanor, have this kind of effect on him? He’d never wanted anyone like this before, never felt this need to possess, to claim. But with you, it’s different. It’s all-consuming.

You stir slightly, shifting beneath the covers, and Lando feels his pulse quicken. Even in sleep, you’re irresistible to him. He can’t stop looking at you, drinking in every detail — your soft skin, the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks as you dream.

He feels the pull again, that deep, primal urge to claim you in every possible way. He wants to feel you, fully, like he never has before. The thought sends a wave of heat through him, and before he can stop himself, his hand is moving, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. His fingers trail softly down your cheek, barely touching, but even that small contact ignites something inside him.

You don’t stir, still lost in sleep, and Lando’s gaze darkens. He’s always in control, always dominant — but there’s something about the idea of taking you like this, of being the first to truly have you, that sends his desire spiraling out of control.

Slowly, deliberately, Lando shifts closer to you, careful not to wake you. His hand moves down your body, sliding under the covers, fingers grazing your skin. He inhales deeply, his breath catching in his throat as he feels your warmth, your softness. You shift slightly again, a soft sigh escaping your lips, but you don’t wake.

“Shh,” Lando whispers under his breath, his voice barely audible. “Just stay like that, baby.”

His hand moves lower, slipping beneath the fabric of your underwear, and he feels you tremble slightly in your sleep. He’s gentle, careful not to startle you, but he can’t deny the hunger building inside him, the way his body aches to be closer to you.

You stir again, your body instinctively shifting toward his touch, and Lando bites back a groan. The feel of you — soft, warm, so completely vulnerable — drives him to the edge. He leans down, pressing his lips to your neck, kissing the delicate skin just beneath your ear.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice dark and low. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

He pulls back, just enough to see your face again. You’re still asleep, still completely unaware of the effect you have on him, and something about that only spurs him on. He slides his hand down further, positioning himself between your legs, his breath coming in slow, deliberate breaths as he moves.

He’s careful, so careful, not to wake you. This is his moment, the one he’s been waiting for. He pushes forward slowly, his body tense with anticipation, his heart pounding in his chest. You let out a soft, barely audible whimper in your sleep, but you don’t wake.

Lando’s jaw tightens as he feels the first resistance, the proof of your innocence, and he closes his eyes for a brief moment, letting the satisfaction wash over him. You’re really his. No one else has ever been this close to you, no one else has ever taken this from you. And now, it’s his.

He moves slowly, savoring every second, every soft sound that escapes your lips. You shift beneath him, your body instinctively reacting to his touch, and Lando’s grip tightens on your hip, holding you still.

“That’s it,” he whispers, his voice thick with need. “Just relax, baby. Let me take care of you.”

You stir slightly, a soft whimper escaping your lips as he moves deeper, but your eyes stay closed. Lando watches your face intently, his breath shallow, his entire focus on you. You’re so tight, so perfect, and the way your body responds to him only fuels his desire.

He moves carefully, slowly, not wanting to hurt you, but the heat between you both is undeniable. His control is slipping, and he knows it. But he can’t stop. He doesn’t want to stop. Not until he’s completely inside you, not until he’s claimed you fully.

Your body tenses as he pushes further, a soft moan escaping your lips, and Lando bites down on his bottom lip, trying to stay focused, trying to hold back. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you — not yet. But the feel of you around him, the way your body tightens and trembles beneath his touch, drives him wild.

You make another soft sound, somewhere between a sigh and a moan, and your eyes flutter open, just barely. You’re still half-asleep, your gaze unfocused, but you feel him now. You feel what he’s doing.

“L-Lando?” You whisper, your voice barely audible, thick with sleep and confusion.

“Shh,” Lando soothes, his lips brushing against your ear. “Just relax, baby. I’ve got you.”

You shift slightly beneath him, your brows furrowing in confusion, but you don’t pull away. Lando watches your face carefully, his breath hot against your skin as he moves deeper, taking his time, savoring every inch of you.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “Just let me in. Let me have all of you.”

You let out a soft whimper, your body instinctively arching toward him, and Lando feels a surge of pride. You might not fully understand what’s happening, but your body is responding to him in exactly the way he wants.

“That’s it,” he breathes, his hand moving to your cheek, brushing his thumb over your lips. “You’re mine, remember? All mine.”

Your eyes flutter closed again, a soft sigh escaping your lips as Lando finally pushes all the way in, feeling the last bit of resistance give way. He’s inside you now, fully, completely, and the satisfaction that rushes through him is almost overwhelming.

For a moment, he stays still, just savoring the feel of you, the way your body trembles beneath him, the way your breath comes in soft, uneven gasps. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his hand cradling your face.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “So perfect.”

You make a soft, breathless sound, your hands instinctively reaching for him, your fingers brushing against his chest. Lando smiles, dark and satisfied, as he begins to move, slow and deliberate, his body pressing against yours with every thrust.

Lando watches the way you shift beneath him, the way you tense and relax with every movement. You’re unraveling, slowly, in his hands, and there’s something so intensely gratifying about it that he can’t help the dark, satisfied smirk that pulls at his lips.

He moves deliberately, controlling the rhythm, controlling you. Every thrust is measured, precise, pushing you closer to the edge while keeping you right where he wants you. He can feel it — feel the way you’re struggling to hold on, feel the way your breathing becomes more erratic, the way your fingers clutch at him, desperate, uncertain.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Lando murmurs, his voice rough and commanding as he watches your face. Your eyes flutter open, wide and unfocused, your lips parting as you try to catch your breath. But you don’t answer, can’t answer — your body is too consumed by the sensations he’s drawing out of you.

He leans down, his breath hot against your ear. “I want to hear you say it,” he growls softly, his hand gripping your hip as he presses deeper into you. “Tell me how close you are. Tell me how badly you want this.”

“I — Lando-” Your voice is a shaky whisper, breathless and uncertain, and Lando smirks again. You can barely speak, barely string two words together, but that’s exactly how he wants you. He wants you undone, unraveling in his hands, unable to think of anything but him.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his hand sliding down your side, his touch firm and possessive. “I know you’re close. I can feel it.”

He moves faster now, his hips grinding into yours as he keeps the rhythm steady, watching your every reaction. You’re trembling beneath him, your body responding to him in ways that make his chest swell with pride. Every soft whimper, every sharp intake of breath — it’s all because of him. And he loves it.

“You feel that?” Lando murmurs, his voice low and dangerous. “That’s me. I’m the only one who’ll ever make you feel this way.”

Your body arches beneath him, and Lando can see the way you’re fighting to hold on, the way you’re trying to keep control. But he won’t let you. He’s not done with you yet.

He slows his movements slightly, just enough to keep you teetering on the edge but not enough to push you over. You let out a frustrated whimper, your fingers digging into his arms as you try to pull him closer, but Lando just smirks, keeping you right where he wants you.

“Not yet,” he whispers, his hand sliding up to cup your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “You’ll come when I say you can.”

Your eyes flutter shut again, and Lando can see the tension building inside you. He watches the way your chest rises and falls, the way your lips part in desperate, breathless gasps, and he knows you’re on the verge of falling apart.

But he holds you there, just on the brink, savoring the way your body reacts to him, the way you’re completely at his mercy. It’s intoxicating, the power he holds over you.

“I can feel how badly you want it,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl as he moves his hand between your legs, teasing you with soft, deliberate touches. “But you’re going to wait. You’re going to wait for me.”

You make a soft, pleading sound, your body trembling beneath him, and Lando’s grip tightens on your hip, holding you steady as he starts to move again, his pace slow and deliberate. He watches every flicker of emotion on your face, the way your brow furrows, the way your lips part as you struggle to breathe through the overwhelming sensations.

“You can take it,” he whispers, his voice dark and commanding. “You can take everything I give you.”

You’re so close now, so impossibly close, and Lando can feel it — the way your body tightens around him, the way your breath catches in your throat as you inch closer to the edge. But he’s not letting you fall yet. Not until he’s ready.

“I’m the only one who gets to see you like this,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. “The only one who gets to take you apart like this.”

His words send a shiver through you, and Lando can feel the way your body responds to him, the way you arch into his touch, desperate for release. He’s holding you on the edge, keeping you there, and the power rushes through him like a drug.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, breathless and pleading. “Lando, please-”

He smirks, dark and satisfied. That’s what he wanted. He wanted you begging for it, wanting it as badly as he does.

“You want to come?” He growls softly, his grip tightening on your hip as he moves faster, his thrusts deeper, harder. “You want me to let you come?”

You nod, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as you try to hold on, your body trembling beneath him.

“Say it,” Lando demands, his voice rough and commanding. “Tell me how much you want it.”

“I-I want it,” you whisper, your voice shaking as you clutch at him, your fingers digging into his arms. “Please, Lando — please let me come.”

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice thick with pride as he watches you unravel beneath him. “Come for me. Let me see you fall apart.”

And with that, he pushes you over the edge.

Your body tenses, your eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure crashes over you in waves. Lando watches every second, his grip firm on your hips as you arch beneath him, your breath coming in soft, broken gasps. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t slow his movements as he guides you through it, his breath coming in slow, deliberate waves as he watches you fall apart in his hands.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing as he keeps moving, keeps pushing you. “You’re doing so well. Just let it happen.”

You make a soft, broken sound, your body trembling beneath him as the pleasure washes over you, and Lando feels a rush of satisfaction. You’re his. Completely, utterly his.

But he’s not done.

As you come down from the high, your body slowly relaxing, Lando’s grip tightens on your hips again. He’s close now — so close he can feel it building inside him, the tension coiling in his muscles as he moves faster, harder, his breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts.

“Look at me,” he growls, his hand moving to cup your jaw, forcing your gaze up to meet his. “I want to see your face when I take you.”

Your eyes flutter open, wide and unfocused, and Lando groans at the sight of you — flushed, trembling, completely undone. He’s never seen anything more beautiful.

“I’m going to come inside you,” he murmurs, his voice rough as he moves faster, his body tensing as the pleasure builds. “You’re going to take all of me. Do you understand?”

You nod, your breath shaky, your fingers clutching at his arms as you try to keep up with him.

“Good girl,” he growls, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re mine. All mine.”

With one final, deep thrust, Lando feels the tension snap, the pleasure crashing over him as he finally lets go. He groans, his grip tightening on your hips as he comes inside you, his body shuddering with the force of it.

For a moment, he stays still, his breath coming in heavy, uneven bursts as he comes down from the high. He watches you, your body still trembling beneath him, your breath coming in soft, uneven gasps.

And then, slowly, carefully, he pulls back, his hand sliding up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek.

“You were meant to be mine,” he whispers again, his voice soft but firm. “And I’m never letting you go.”

You don’t respond, your body completely spent, but Lando knows you understand. You belong to him now, in every way that matters.

***

Lando lies beside you, his chest pressed against your back, a comforting warmth in the quiet aftermath. The soft sheets cling to both of you, and he can feel your heartbeat gradually slowing, returning to a steady rhythm as you begin to relax in his arms. His fingers lightly trace the curve of your lips, a subtle smirk playing at his own.

There's something so innocent about the way you look right now — your eyelashes fluttering gently as if you’re dreaming, the soft rise and fall of your chest. He wants to savor it, the moment of peace after everything, but he’s far from done.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough from the lingering remnants of passion. You blink slowly, your gaze focusing on him, a small smile tugging at your lips. The look you give him is so tender, so trusting, it makes his chest tighten in a way he’s not used to. Vulnerability looks good on you, he thinks.

“You’re still awake,” Lando continues, his fingers brushing over your lips before moving to caress your jaw. He shifts his body closer to yours, resting his head on his hand as he looks down at you. “What were you thinking about?”

You blink again, your lips parting to speak, but before you can answer, he tilts his head slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “What are you studying at university, again?”

There’s a brief pause, and he watches as you seem to collect your thoughts. “Business economics,” you say softly, almost shyly. “I’m in my second year.”

He raises an eyebrow, his hand still trailing lazily across your skin. “Business economics?” There’s a note of surprise in his voice, but more than that, there’s something else — something almost dismissive.

You nod, your eyes flicking to his, unsure of what he’s thinking. “Yeah, I mean … it’s interesting. And it’s practical. I thought-”

“Why?” Lando interrupts, his voice cutting through the air like a knife, making you pause mid-sentence. His tone is calm, controlled, but there’s an underlying tension there, something that makes you hesitate.

“What do you mean?” You ask, confused, your brow furrowing slightly.

“Why are you wasting your time on that?” Lando’s fingers stop their gentle tracing and move to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes locked on yours. “You don’t need a degree.”

You stare at him for a moment, the words sinking in. There’s a silence that stretches between you, and Lando can feel the subtle shift in your energy, the way your body tenses just slightly, like you’re gearing up for some sort of protest. But before you can speak, he continues.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, his voice softer now but still firm. “You don’t need to worry about school, or work, or any of that. I’ve got more than enough for the both of us.” He pauses, watching your reaction, waiting for the inevitable pushback. “Why would you bother with a degree when you have me?”

There’s a flicker of something in your eyes — uncertainty, maybe even hesitation. You open your mouth to say something, but the words die on your tongue. Lando’s hand moves to rest on your thigh, his fingers brushing against your skin, a silent reminder of the control he holds.

“I … I don’t know, I just …”

“You don’t need to worry about it,” Lando interrupts, his voice smooth, reassuring, yet unyielding. “I’ve got everything handled. I’ll take care of you. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

You swallow hard, trying to process his words, trying to reconcile the offer of security with the dream you’ve been working toward. “But I like studying …”

Lando’s hand moves down your thigh, his grip tightening slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to make a point. “Do you?” He murmurs, his voice dropping lower, more dangerous. “Or are you just doing it because you think you need to?”

You blink, caught off guard by the question, and he takes advantage of the moment. His hand slips further down, his fingers brushing between your legs, a slow, deliberate movement that leaves no room for argument.

“Lando-”

“Hush,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a faint smile as he leans down, his mouth hovering just over yours. “I don’t want to hear any excuses. You don’t need that degree. You’ve got me now.”

His fingers move with practiced ease, and you gasp, your body betraying you as you react to his touch. Any coherent thought slips away as he works you over, your head falling back against the pillow, your body arching into him.

“You’re going to quit,” Lando says, his voice calm but firm, a quiet command that brooks no argument. “You’re not going back to school.”

You shake your head, or maybe you don’t — it’s hard to tell anymore, everything feels hazy, your mind clouded by the sensations coursing through you. But Lando doesn’t care. He’s already decided.

“Say it,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear as his fingers press harder, drawing another breathless moan from your lips. “You’re going to quit.”

“I … I don’t …” Your voice is weak, shaky, barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing.

Lando’s grip tightens, and he moves his body over yours, his weight pressing you into the mattress, grounding you, reminding you of who’s in control.

“Say it,” he repeats, his tone sharper now, more insistent. “You’re going to quit.”

Your breath hitches, your body trembling beneath him as you struggle to form a coherent response. But he doesn’t let up. His touch is relentless, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, until you can’t think of anything but the way he’s making you feel.

“Lando … please …”

“Say it,” he demands again, his voice a low growl. “Tell me you’re quitting. Tell me you don’t need that degree.”

Your body arches beneath him, your mind a blur of confusion and pleasure, and finally, finally, the words tumble from your lips, broken and breathless.

“I … I’ll quit. I’ll quit.”

Lando smirks, satisfied, as he watches you unravel beneath him, your body trembling with the force of your release. He doesn’t stop, not yet, not until he’s sure you’re completely spent, until there’s nothing left of you but the quiet, trembling aftermath.

When it’s over, he pulls back slightly, his hand moving to cup your jaw as he looks down at you, his eyes dark and possessive. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your lips. “That’s what I like to hear.”

You don’t respond, too exhausted, too overwhelmed to speak, and Lando chuckles softly, his hand slipping from your jaw to rest on your chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of your breath.

“You’ll get used to it,” he says quietly, his voice low and soothing now, as if he’s trying to comfort you. “You don’t need to worry about anything anymore. I’ve got you.”

There’s a part of you that still wants to argue, still wants to push back against his words, but it’s a small, quiet part, drowned out by the overwhelming sense of relief and security that Lando offers.

And maybe, just maybe, he’s right.

Maybe you don’t need that degree. Maybe you don’t need to worry about your future, because Lando is your future now.

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and you close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the warmth of his embrace, the steady, reassuring presence of him beside you.

“I’ll take care of you,” Lando whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. “Always.”

And in that moment, with his arms wrapped around you, it’s easy to believe him.

***

Lando’s fingers drum impatiently on the steering wheel of his McLaren as he pulls into the parking lot of your university. It’s a cloudy morning, the kind of gray that matches his mood.

He doesn’t want to be here — certainly doesn’t want to waste time with the formalities of this. But he knows it has to be done. He glances at you from the corner of his eye as the car comes to a smooth stop, his grip tightening for a moment.

You’ve been quiet since you left the penthouse, a subtle tension hanging in the air between the two of you. Lando notices the way your hands fidget in your lap, the way your gaze flicks nervously towards the university buildings. He doesn’t like it. You’ve already agreed to this; you’d already said you’d quit. This is just tying up loose ends, nothing more.

He shuts off the engine and leans back, turning his full attention to you. “You ready?”

You hesitate, and he doesn’t miss it. A small nod, your lips pressed together in uncertainty. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Good,” Lando says firmly, not giving any room for further discussion. He unbuckles his seatbelt and steps out of the car, coming around to open your door for you. His hand slides possessively to the small of your back as he guides you toward the administration building. “Let’s get this over with.”

The university halls feel cold, sterile, as the two of you walk through them. It’s early, and the place hasn’t fully come alive yet. But the walls are lined with student posters, the smell of textbooks, and the quiet hum of academia that fills the space feels completely foreign to Lando. This world doesn’t fit you, he thinks. Not anymore. You belong with him.

The Dean’s office is tucked away in the corner of the building, and when you reach it, Lando notices how your steps slow slightly. His grip tightens on your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re sure about this, yes?”

You glance up at him, uncertainty flickering in your eyes for the briefest second. But then you nod. “I … yes. I’m sure.”

Lando smirks, satisfied. You’re just nervous, that’s all. He’s not worried. Not really.

The secretary outside the office lets you both in with a nod, and the Dean, a man in his early fifties with glasses perched on his nose, looks up from behind a stack of papers. He smiles at you as you enter, but his expression quickly shifts when he notices Lando standing beside you, his arm firmly around your waist.

“Miss Y/L/N,” the Dean says, his voice carrying a note of pleasant surprise. “What brings you here today?”

You shift awkwardly, glancing at Lando for a moment before speaking. “I … I’ve decided to withdraw from my program.”

The Dean’s brow furrows in confusion. He leans back in his chair, folding his hands on his desk. “Withdraw? Are you sure? You’re one of our most promising students. Your work in economics has been exemplary.”

Lando feels the slight tremor in your body, senses the moment of hesitation as you start to open your mouth, your gaze flicking back to the Dean. The man’s words clearly have an effect on you, and Lando doesn’t like it. His jaw clenches.

“I … I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” you start, your voice quiet. “I’m just not sure if this is the right path for me anymore.”

“Nonsense,” the Dean says, shaking his head. “You’ve made such incredible progress. You have a natural talent, and it would be a waste to throw it all away. You’re capable of so much more than just-”

“She’s not wasting anything,” Lando cuts in, his voice sharp and cold. He glares at the Dean, daring him to continue. The room falls silent for a moment, the tension palpable. “She’s made her decision.”

The Dean’s eyes flicker between the two of you, clearly noting the way Lando’s grip tightens around your waist, the way his presence dominates the space. He frowns, clearly displeased but unwilling to press further. “Miss Y/L/N,” he says carefully, “are you certain this is what you want?”

You hesitate, biting your lip, and Lando feels his frustration bubble up. He leans down, his lips close to your ear, his voice a quiet command. “Tell him you’ve already decided.”

You swallow hard, your body stiffening slightly before you nod again. “I’ve already decided.”

The Dean sighs, clearly reluctant, but he reaches for the necessary paperwork nonetheless. “If you’re sure,” he mutters, sliding the forms across the desk toward you. “You’ll need to sign here, and I’ll need a statement of withdrawal.”

As you reach for the pen, Lando keeps his arm firmly around your waist, watching carefully. He can still feel your unease, the way your hand trembles slightly as you begin to sign your name. But he knows this is the right decision. You don’t need this place. You need him.

The Dean watches silently, his lips pressed into a thin line, clearly displeased. “It’s a shame,” he says after a moment, his eyes lingering on you. “You had such a bright future ahead of you. I hope you’re not making a mistake.”

Lando’s jaw tightens. He can see the way your fingers falter over the paper, the way the Dean’s words make you second-guess yourself. Before you can say anything, Lando steps in again, his voice cutting through the tension.

“She’s not,” Lando says firmly, his eyes locked on the Dean with a warning edge. “She’s exactly where she’s supposed to be.”

The Dean doesn’t reply, only nods curtly as he gathers the signed forms. Lando watches as you hand them back, your face a mix of emotions — confusion, doubt, and something else he can’t quite place.

As soon as the paperwork is done, Lando wastes no time. He pulls you close to him, practically ushering you out of the office. You cast one last glance at the Dean, but Lando’s hand tightens on your waist, his fingers pressing into your side in a way that leaves no room for lingering thoughts.

Once you’re out in the hallway, Lando’s tone softens slightly, though the control in his voice remains. “It’s done. No turning back now.”

You nod, but he can tell your thoughts are still drifting, still caught up in what the Dean said. That won’t do. Lando knows he needs to distract you, shift your focus back where it belongs — on him.

“There’s an Hermès store nearby,” Lando says casually as the two of you walk toward the parking lot. His tone is light, almost conversational, but there’s an underlying purpose behind his words. “I’ve been thinking … you’d look adorable with one of their twilly scarves tied in your hair. Maybe even a matching Birkin.” He glances down at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What do you think?”

You blink, momentarily thrown by the abrupt change in topic. “I … I don’t know.”

Lando’s grip on your waist loosens slightly as he moves his hand up to brush your hair back from your face. “Trust me. You’d love it. And I’d love seeing you with a cute little bow tied in your hair. It would suit you.”

You can’t help but smile, though it’s small and unsure. The shift in conversation, the mention of luxury, seems to distract you enough, pulling your thoughts away from the earlier doubt. That’s exactly what Lando wants. He needs you focused on him, not on whatever misplaced ambitions the Dean tried to stir up.

“I’ll take you shopping,” Lando continues smoothly as he opens the passenger door of his car for you. “We’ll find something perfect. After all, you deserve it.”

He watches as you slide into the seat, your expression still tinged with uncertainty but softened by the promise of something new, something exciting. Lando can feel the satisfaction curling inside him. He’s got you exactly where he wants you.

As he rounds the car and slides into the driver’s seat, he shoots you a quick glance, his hand already moving to rest on your thigh, a silent reminder of his control. “You won’t regret any of this,” he says quietly, his voice filled with certainty. “You’re mine now. I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

You don’t respond, but the way you lean into his touch tells him all he needs to know. He starts the engine, the roar of the McLaren filling the air as he pulls out of the university parking lot.

***

Each day seems to fall into a rhythm. Lando likes control, and now he’s exerting it over your life, molding it to fit his own. You’re no longer rushing to university or working long hours at his company. Instead, you’re left to fill your days with something else, though Lando never lets it be anything without him at the center of it.

It didn’t take long for you to find a new routine. It started the first day after you withdrew from school. You spent the morning pacing around Lando’s penthouse, the sprawling space eerily quiet without him there. His presence filled the place even when he wasn’t around, but it still felt empty without him.

By noon, you found yourself in the kitchen, your hands moving on instinct, putting together a lunch that reminded you of simpler times. You thought about surprising him at work, the idea sparking a tiny thrill in you. Maybe he’d like the surprise.

You had no idea how much he would love it.

Now, you’re in his office every day without fail. Each morning is spent in careful preparation — choosing the perfect outfit, something that Lando would appreciate. You know how much he loves your bows, so you always make sure to tie one into your hair. Your dresses are carefully selected from the expansive closet he’s stocked for you, all designer, all perfectly tailored to accentuate your innocence, your softness. It’s what he likes. It’s what keeps him satisfied.

Today is no different. You step off the elevator into his building, a picnic basket swinging delicately in your hand. The security guard already knows you by name, offering a polite nod as you pass by, though you can’t miss the curious glance he throws at the basket.

When you reach Lando’s office, his assistant greets you with a knowing smile. “He’s in a meeting,” she tells you, her voice pleasant. “But you can go in. He always makes time for you.”

You smile back, nodding your thanks, and push open the door to his private office. The space is immaculate, modern, with sleek lines and floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the city. It screams power, control, everything that Lando is.

He’s seated at his desk, deep in conversation with a group of executives who are standing across from him, discussing something about market shares. But the moment you step inside, his eyes flick up to meet yours, and everything else in the room seems to fall away.

“Gentlemen,” Lando interrupts smoothly, not bothering to hide the way his gaze lingers on you. “That’ll be all for now.”

There’s a moment of hesitation from the executives, confusion flashing across their faces at the abrupt end to the meeting. But Lando’s tone leaves no room for debate. They gather their papers, nodding respectfully as they file out, each of them casting curious glances your way as they leave.

Once the door clicks shut, Lando leans back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes you in. The picnic basket, the way your dress hugs your figure, the bow in your hair — it’s all exactly as he likes it.

“Come here,” he orders, his voice low but commanding. You don’t hesitate, crossing the room toward him, your heels clicking softly against the marble floor.

Lando doesn’t say anything as you set the basket down on the edge of his desk, but you can feel the intensity of his gaze as he watches every move you make. He doesn’t even look at the food; his focus is entirely on you.

He reaches out, his hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling you closer until you’re standing between his legs, his chair swiveling slightly as he turns toward you. His other hand moves to the hem of your dress, his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric.

“You always know just how to dress for me, don’t you?” His voice is soft, but there’s an edge to it, a possessive undertone that sends a shiver down your spine.

You nod, swallowing hard. “I thought you might be hungry,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando’s smirk widens, his hand sliding higher up your thigh, under the skirt of your dress. “Oh, I am,” he murmurs, his fingers grazing the lace of your underwear. “But I’m not interested in whatever you’ve brought in that basket.”

You bite your lip, your heart racing as his touch becomes more insistent. This is the routine now, the unspoken agreement. You bring him lunch, and he makes sure to have his appetizer first. His hands are all over you before you’ve even had a chance to set the table.

His thumb presses against the lace, and you gasp, your body instinctively arching toward him. “Lando …”

He chuckles, pulling you down onto his lap, positioning you so that you’re straddling him, your dress riding up as his hands find your hips. “You know what I want,” he says, his lips brushing against your ear. “And you’re going to give it to me, aren’t you?”

You nod, your breath coming in shallow gasps as his hands roam over your body, tugging at the fabric of your dress, pulling it up higher. His fingers find the bow tied around your waist, and he tugs at it, loosening it until the dress falls open slightly.

“You look so innocent,” Lando whispers, his voice dark with desire. “But you’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathe, your hands gripping his shoulders as his lips find your neck, kissing and biting softly.

Lando growls softly in satisfaction, his hands moving with practiced ease as he takes what he wants, as he always does. You’re used to this by now, the way he demands control, the way he always takes his fill of you before anything else. And part of you craves it — craves the way he makes you feel, like you’re the only thing that matters in his world.

After he’s had his way with you, his hands still lingering possessively on your hips, Lando finally leans back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Now,” he says, his voice still husky, “what did you bring me for lunch?”

You’re still breathless, your body trembling slightly as you try to regain your composure. You reach for the picnic basket, opening it to reveal the meal you’d spent the morning preparing — a simple but elegant spread of sandwiches, fruit, and pastries.

Lando watches you, his smirk never fading as you set everything up on his desk. “You spoil me,” he murmurs, reaching for one of the sandwiches.

You smile, trying to steady your breathing as you watch him take a bite, his eyes still fixed on you. “I just thought you might like something different,” you say softly.

He chuckles, swallowing his food before leaning back in his chair, his gaze predatory. “Oh, I do. I like it very much.”

As he eats, you sit across from him, watching as he devours the food you’ve made. There’s something intimate about it, the way he looks at you, the way his hand casually rests on your thigh as if he can’t go a moment without touching you.

When he’s finished, Lando leans back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studies you. “I want you to keep doing this,” he says after a moment. “Bringing me lunch every day.”

You blink, surprised. “Every day?”

He nods, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your thigh. “I like having you here. I like knowing you’re close.” His gaze darkens slightly. “And I like having you as an appetizer before the main meal.”

Your cheeks flush at his words, and Lando’s smirk widens. He leans forward, his hand moving to your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “You’re mine, remember? And I always get what I want.”

You nod, your heart racing as you meet his intense gaze. “Yes, Lando.”

His smirk softens into something more tender, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Good girl.”

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur. You stay with him, lingering in his office as he works, your presence a constant distraction for him. Every now and then, he glances up from his papers to watch you, his eyes filled with a dark, possessive hunger that never seems to fade.

And when the workday finally ends, Lando takes you back to the penthouse, where the cycle begins again.

***

Lando is lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, his body pressed close to yours, his hand idly tracing circles on your bare skin. The mid-morning sunlight filters through the curtains of his penthouse bedroom, casting a soft glow over the room. It's quiet, peaceful, the kind of quiet that only comes with mornings like this — when the world outside is busy, but inside, it's just the two of you.

His lips are on your neck, warm and gentle, brushing against your skin with lazy affection. You can feel the way his breath hitches slightly, how his hand drifts lower, over the curve of your waist, until it comes to rest on your stomach. His fingers spread out across your skin, his touch firm yet tender.

“Baby,” Lando murmurs, his voice deep and hushed, as if he’s talking to himself as much as to you. He lets the word linger in the air, the possessiveness in his tone unmistakable. “You’d look so pretty with a baby.”

The words catch you off guard. You feel your heart skip a beat, a rush of warmth spreading through you, but there’s also confusion, a flicker of uncertainty. “Lando,” you breathe, turning your head slightly to look at him.

He doesn’t stop. His hand stays on your stomach, gently pressing against the flatness there, as if imagining it full, imagining you carrying his child. His lips find your jawline, kissing softly, his voice a low rumble against your skin. “You’d look perfect. So beautiful.”

You blink, trying to process what he’s saying. The tenderness in his voice is at odds with the intensity of his words. “A baby?” You ask quietly, unsure of what to say.

Lando’s eyes flick up to meet yours, his expression serious, though there’s a softness in his gaze. “Yeah,” he says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “My baby with my baby.”

There’s a pause, the weight of his words hanging between you, and you feel a tightening in your chest. You’ve never really talked about this — about the future, about where this relationship is headed. You’ve been so caught up in the present, in the way Lando makes you feel, in the way he consumes every part of your life, that you haven’t allowed yourself to think too far ahead.

But now, he’s thinking for both of you. His mind is already made up.

“Lando, I-” You start to speak, but he cuts you off with a gentle kiss, his lips capturing yours in a way that steals your breath, that makes it impossible to think straight.

He pulls back, just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. “Don’t think too much about it,” he whispers, his tone coaxing, soothing. “Just imagine it. You, with a little bump, carrying our baby. Doesn’t that sound good?”

You swallow hard, your mind racing. It’s overwhelming, the way he’s speaking, like he’s already decided this for you. His hand is still on your stomach, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, and it’s as if he’s trying to imprint the idea onto you — his baby, your body, his future.

“Lando, that’s … that’s a big decision,” you manage to say, though your voice is soft, tentative.

He smiles at you, that confident, easy smile that always makes your heart flutter. “I know,” he says, his voice calm, unhurried. “But it’s the right one. I want this. I want you to have my baby. I want you to be mine completely.”

His words send a shiver through you, both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. He’s never been shy about claiming you, about making it clear that you belong to him in every way. But this feels different. This feels permanent.

“I …” You try again, but once more, Lando silences you, his mouth moving against yours, his kiss more insistent this time, more possessive.

His hand slips down, over your thigh, pulling you closer to him as he deepens the kiss, his body pressing against yours. He’s making it hard to think, hard to focus on anything other than the feel of him, the way he takes control with such ease.

“You trust me, don’t you?” He murmurs against your lips, his hand cupping your cheek as he pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes dark and intense.

You nod without thinking, your heart racing. Of course you trust him. He’s always been there, always known exactly what to do, what you need. But this … this is different.

“I do,” you whisper, your voice shaky, unsure of where this is going.

Lando’s smile softens, his hand sliding back to your stomach, pressing there again, more firmly this time. “Then trust me with this, baby. You’d be perfect. You know that, right? You were made for this — for me.”

The possessiveness in his voice is unmistakable, and it sends a jolt through you. He’s always been dominant, always in control, but this feels deeper, more intense. It’s not just about the moment — it’s about the future he’s already planned out for you, the future he’s pulling you into without hesitation.

“Imagine it,” he says again, his voice dropping lower, his lips brushing against your ear. “You, carrying my child. Everyone would see it, would know you’re mine. You’d be so beautiful. So perfect.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you feel the weight of his words settling over you, wrapping around you like a tight embrace. The idea is both terrifying and intoxicating, and you don’t know how to respond.

Lando doesn’t give you the chance to. His hand moves again, this time slipping lower, between your thighs, his fingers pressing against you in a way that makes your mind go blank, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he whispers, his voice soothing as his fingers tease you, his touch both gentle and firm. “I’ll take care of everything. You don’t need to think about it. Just let me take care of you, like I always do.”

You gasp softly, your body arching toward him, and Lando’s smirk widens as he watches you unravel under his touch, his hand working expertly to drive you closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his lips pressing against your neck, his voice a low growl. “That’s my girl. So good for me.”

Your mind is spinning, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words, his touch, the way he’s controlling the entire moment. And yet, there’s a part of you that wants to give in, to let him take control, to let him decide everything, because it feels safe, it feels right.

Lando’s grip tightens slightly on your stomach, his thumb brushing over your skin in a possessive way. “You’re going to be perfect, baby. You’ll be mine completely. You already are.”

His words sink deep into you, the finality of them making your heart race. He’s not asking. He’s telling you. This is what he wants, what he’s decided for both of you. And in this moment, with his body pressed against yours, his hand between your thighs, his lips on your skin, it’s impossible to argue.

You’re his, and you always will be.

***

Lando's eyes are fixed on you, standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse, bathed in the late afternoon sunlight. The golden light hits your skin, casting you in a soft glow, but all he can focus on is the slight curve of your stomach, the undeniable proof of the life growing inside you.

His child.

You’re wearing one of those dresses he loves, the fabric soft and flowing, cinched just below your breasts to accommodate the growing bump. It’s a subtle change for now, but Lando notices it like it’s the only thing in the world that matters. The way you move, the way your hands instinctively rest on your stomach sometimes, like you’re protecting what belongs to him. He can’t take his eyes off you.

You turn slightly, catching him watching you from across the room, and your lips curve into a soft, shy smile. “What?” You ask, voice light, but there’s a hint of nervousness in your tone, like you’re not sure what he’s thinking.

Lando doesn't answer right away. Instead, he walks toward you, slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving your bump. When he finally reaches you, his hand moves to rest on your stomach, the warmth of your skin radiating through the fabric of your dress. He feels it under his palm — the slight roundness, the beginning of the change, the proof of his claim on you.

“My baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and possessive, the words more for himself than for you.

You look up at him, a flicker of emotion in your eyes. There’s still that innocence, that soft vulnerability that Lando can’t get enough of. Less than a year ago, you were untouched, unclaimed by any man, and now — now, you’re carrying his child. The thought makes something primal stir deep inside him, a fierce sense of ownership and pride.

Lando’s thumb brushes lightly over your stomach, tracing the curve as if memorizing the way your body is changing. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he says, his voice rough around the edges. His eyes flick back to yours, intense, as he continues, “I always knew you’d look perfect with my baby growing inside you.”

A flush spreads across your cheeks, your lips parting slightly, but you don’t say anything. Lando knows this is overwhelming for you — everything about him, about this relationship, about how quickly everything has changed. But that’s exactly how he wanted it. He wasn’t going to give you time to second-guess anything. You belong to him now, and there’s no going back.

He kneels in front of you without warning, one hand still resting on your stomach while the other grips your hip, pulling you slightly closer. His breath hitches as his eyes level with the slight swell, and he presses his lips softly to your stomach, placing slow, deliberate kisses on the fabric of your dress. His baby, inside you. It’s everything he’s ever wanted.

Lando looks up at you from where he’s kneeling, his eyes dark with intensity. “I still can’t believe it,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “Less than a year ago, you hadn’t even been touched by a man. And now …” He trails off, his hand moving to press against the bump again. “Now, you’re full with my child.”

The words hang heavy in the air, and you swallow hard, clearly unsure of how to respond. Lando’s always been intense, always so certain, so in control of everything between you. But this — this is something different. This is forever.

He stands back up, his hands sliding up your sides, holding you close as he towers over you. His thumb brushes along your jawline, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “Do you even understand what this means?” He asks quietly, his tone firm but not unkind. “You’re mine. Completely. No one else will ever have you like this.”

You nod, a bit shakily, and Lando smirks. He knows it’s a lot for you to take in, but that’s exactly how he wants it. He wants you overwhelmed, completely consumed by him, by the life he’s building for you both.

“I’m proud of you,” he says, and there’s a softness in his voice now, a gentleness that he only shows you in these quiet moments. “You’re doing so well. Carrying my child, making our future.”

His hand moves back to your stomach, rubbing small circles as he continues, “I always knew you’d be perfect like this. My baby with my baby.” He chuckles softly, leaning down to kiss you on the forehead. “You’re going to be the most beautiful mother.”

You lean into him, letting out a soft sigh, and Lando feels something warm unfurl in his chest. He likes seeing you like this — soft, pliant, completely under his control. He likes knowing that every part of you belongs to him, from your mind to your body to the life growing inside of you.

“I want you to rest more,” he says suddenly, his tone taking on that commanding edge again. “No more worrying about anything. I’ll take care of everything.”

You blink up at him, a slight frown crossing your face. “I don’t worry, Lando,” you say softly, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.

“You do,” he insists, his hand tightening just a bit on your hip. “You don’t have to, though. That’s not your job anymore. Your only job is to take care of our baby. Got it?”

There’s a pause, and you nod again, this time more slowly, like you’re trying to process what he’s saying. Lando watches your expression carefully, knowing that you’re still adjusting to this life with him. But he also knows that he’s not giving you a choice. This is your life now — his life.

Lando leans down again, pressing another kiss to your stomach before straightening up. “I want you to rest now,” he says, his voice softening. “Come on, let’s go lie down.”

You hesitate for a moment, but then you let him guide you to the bedroom, his hand resting possessively on the small of your back as you walk. When you reach the bed, he helps you lie down, pulling the covers over you with a tenderness that contrasts with the intensity of his words.

He sits on the edge of the bed, watching you as you settle in, his hand resting lightly on your stomach again. “I’ll stay here for a bit,” he murmurs, his eyes dark and unreadable. “I just want to be close to you. To our baby.”

You don’t say anything, but you don’t have to. Lando knows that you’re still processing everything, still adjusting to the life he’s created for you. But he’s patient. He’ll wait. Because he knows, deep down, that you’re his. Completely and utterly his. And soon, there will be no part of your life that isn’t touched by him, controlled by him.

He smiles to himself, brushing his thumb lightly over your skin as he leans down to kiss your forehead once more. “Rest now,” he whispers. “You’re doing so well.”

And as you close your eyes, Lando stays there, watching over you, his hand never leaving your stomach, his thoughts already spinning with plans for the future. You and him, and the life you’re building together. It’s everything he’s ever wanted.

And it’s only just beginning.

***

The lecture hall buzzes with quiet anticipation, students shifting in their seats, eyes on the door as they wait for the keynote speaker. Lando strides through the entrance with effortless authority, his tailored suit emphasizing his power. Every step he takes commands attention, but his focus isn't on the sea of students. It's on you.

He keeps you close to his side, his arm protectively wrapped around your waist, guiding you through the lecture hall. You're heavily pregnant now, your rounded belly making it harder to move with the same ease as before. Lando notices every wince, every slight shift in your weight, and his grip tightens, steadying you.

“You alright?” He murmurs, leaning down slightly, his voice low but firm. He stops walking as you pause, his thumb brushing against your side in a rare gesture of tenderness.

You nod, offering him a small smile, but Lando isn’t convinced. He’s always watching, always reading you, making sure you’re taken care of. He doesn’t want you out of his sight, especially not now, not when you’re carrying his child — his future. It’s why he insisted you come with him to this keynote speech, even if it meant pulling you away from the quiet of home.

“I don’t want you far from me, baby,” he’d said that morning, his voice leaving no room for argument. “You stay by my side today.”

And now, as he guides you to the front row of the lecture hall, he’s making sure you’re positioned just right. The front seat, where he can keep an eye on you, where no one else can intrude. Lando gestures for you to sit, his eyes dark and serious as you lower yourself into the chair, careful of your bump. He crouches down in front of you, smoothing a hand over your knee before leaning in, his lips close to your ear.

“If you need anything,” he says, his voice quiet but commanding, “you call me. I’m right here. Don’t even think about getting up on your own.”

You nod again, feeling his intensity radiating off him, and he gives your knee one last squeeze before standing up, adjusting his suit jacket with precision. He takes the stage with ease, the shift from boyfriend to powerful CEO seamless.

Lando begins speaking, his voice steady and commanding, captivating the room effortlessly. The students sit up straighter, hanging on every word, as he talks about leadership, success, and the ruthlessness it takes to survive in the world of business. But every now and then, his eyes flicker to you, checking, ensuring you’re still there, still safe.

You sit quietly, watching him, one hand resting on your bump, and the baby kicks softly against your palm. The speech is engaging, and you’re proud of him, but there’s a slight discomfort creeping in — the weight of your pregnancy, the strange sensation of being back here, in your old university, surrounded by classmates who wouldn’t recognize the person you are now.

After Lando finishes his speech, the applause echoes through the hall, loud and appreciative, but it barely reaches you. You’re too caught up in your thoughts, in the reality of how much has changed. Less than a year ago, you were sitting in one of these very seats, studying, dreaming about a future you thought would be on your own terms. Now, here you are, with Lando's baby growing inside you, a future that looks nothing like what you imagined.

As the students begin filing out, Lando steps down from the stage, immediately walking over to you. His hand is on your shoulder before you can say anything, and his presence instantly makes you feel safe, grounded.

“Let’s get you home, baby,” he says softly, his tone gentle but firm. “I don’t want you out for too long. You need to rest.”

But just as you start to stand, you overhear a conversation behind you, voices you vaguely recognize — former classmates, their tones incredulous, like they can’t believe what they’re seeing.

“Is that Y/N?” One of them asks, the disbelief clear in her voice.

“Yeah, but … wow. She’s changed so much,” another replies. “I mean, look at her. She’s pregnant — and with Lando Norris? How did that even happen?”

You freeze for a moment, uncertainty creeping in as their words sink in. Of course, you knew people would notice, would talk, but hearing it said out loud — how different you are now — makes your heart race a little. They don’t know the half of it. They don’t know how your life shifted so drastically, how Lando swept you into his world and never let go.

Lando’s eyes harden as he catches the exchange. He glares at the group of students, his expression darkening. The possessiveness that always simmers under the surface rises to the forefront. He tightens his arm around your waist as if to make a statement — one that’s loud and clear.

Without breaking his gaze from the group, he speaks, voice low and controlled. “We should stop by Burberry after this,” he says, leaning close to you, his hand pressing against your back, anchoring you to him. “I’ve been thinking we need more clothes for the baby. Maybe some cute outfits with little matching accessories. What do you think, baby?”

His words are meant to distract you, to pull you away from any lingering doubts those comments might have sparked. You look up at him, meeting his intense gaze, and for a moment, you’re not sure if you should feel reassured or overwhelmed by how much control Lando always has over every situation.

The students fall silent, quickly averting their gaze as Lando’s attention stays fixed on you. There’s no mistaking his message — Lando is in control. Of you. Of your life. Of everything. And no one else’s opinion matters.

You swallow hard, nodding softly as you lean into him. “Yeah, that sounds nice,” you murmur, your voice quiet, unsure.

Lando's eyes soften slightly as he looks down at you, clearly pleased with your response. He cups your cheek briefly before turning to lead you out of the hall, his arm still firmly around your waist.

As you walk together through the corridors of your old university, you can’t help but feel a strange mix of emotions — nostalgia, confusion, but also a deep, almost unsettling sense of belonging. It’s as if you no longer fit into the life you once had here, and the only place you truly belong is at Lando’s side, under his protection, within his world.

Once outside, Lando stops, glancing down at you as you lean against him. “You alright, baby?” He asks, his voice softer now, more intimate.

You nod, though the tightness in your chest lingers. “Yeah,” you whisper, but your mind drifts back to the students, to their words. How much you’ve changed.

Lando studies you for a moment before brushing his thumb over your cheek. “You don’t need to worry about what anyone thinks,” he says, his voice firm but gentle. “Your life is here, with me. That’s all that matters.”

He kisses your forehead, the gesture unexpectedly tender, and pulls you closer. “Let’s go to Burberry. We’ll pick out something nice for our baby.” His hand moves down to brush lightly over your bump, possessive and affectionate all at once. “And maybe something for you too.”

You lean into him as he guides you toward his car, trying to shake the strange unease that’s settled in your chest. It’s true — you’ve changed so much in such a short time. But with Lando by your side, there’s no room for second-guessing.

Your life, your future, your identity — it’s all wrapped up in him now. And there’s no turning back.

***

Lando sits behind his massive desk, the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office casting a warm glow across the room. He glances at his watch, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. It’s almost time. Every day around this hour, like clockwork, you arrive at his office with a homemade lunch, dressed in one of your designer dresses and kitten heels, looking as perfect as ever. But lately, there’s an extra reason for his anticipation. A tiny reason.

He hears the familiar knock on the door before it creaks open. His heart, normally steady and guarded, stirs a little, as it always does when you walk into the room. And there you are, with that ever-present bow in your hair, a smaller version of it perched atop your baby daughter’s head as you hold her close.

“There are my girls,” Lando says, his voice low, but with a warmth reserved only for you and your daughter. He stands from his desk, smoothing out his suit as he crosses the room in long, confident strides.

Your daughter, barely a year old, gurgles happily as Lando approaches. He reaches out and takes her from your arms with ease, holding her in one arm while his other hand reaches out to rest possessively on your lower back. His thumb brushes against the silk of your dress, the simple touch staking his claim over you, over everything you are.

“Daddy’s been waiting,” he says softly, his gaze flicking down to the baby in his arms before he turns his attention back to you. “And what did my girls bring me today?”

You smile up at him, a little breathless, always affected by the sheer presence of him. “Your favorite,” you say, lifting the picnic basket a bit. “And something new I wanted to try.”

Lando’s dark eyes sparkle with something unreadable, though you’re sure it’s a mix of amusement and affection. He loves these moments. These tiny, perfect slices of domesticity. He’d once filled his life with the best of everything — lavish lunches from Michelin-starred restaurants, anything he wanted at the snap of his fingers. But none of it compares to this. To you, his beautiful wife-to-be, and the child you both created together.

Without a word, Lando steps away from you just long enough to sit down on the edge of his massive desk, setting your daughter on his lap. She immediately grabs for the bow on his tie, her tiny fingers tugging at it while she babbles incoherently. Lando laughs — a sound so rare that even you pause to savor it.

“She’s got good taste,” he comments, adjusting her tiny hand so she doesn’t pull the knot loose. His eyes meet yours again, and you know that he’s shifting the focus back to you. He always does. “You two make quite the pair, you know that?”

You blush a little, smoothing the front of your dress as you walk over, the baby’s gaze following you. “I think she takes after her daddy,” you tease softly, though there’s truth in your words. Your daughter’s eyes are the same shade of bright green as Lando’s, her expressions sometimes eerily similar to his — calm, calculating, but always with a spark of something mischievous beneath the surface.

Lando’s expression softens, though the control, the dominance that defines him, never wavers. He slides off the desk and takes your hand, pulling you toward him until you’re standing between his legs, his chest close enough to brush against yours.

“Do you know how perfect this is?” He asks quietly, the words intimate, meant just for you. His hand, the one not balancing the baby, comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips. “You. Her. This …everything.”

You tilt your head slightly, leaning into his touch, feeling the familiar tug of his pull on your entire being. There’s something in the way he looks at you, something that both grounds you and makes you feel like you’re floating.

“I couldn’t ask for more,” you whisper, meaning every word.

Lando’s eyes narrow slightly, that smirk you know all too well tugging at the corner of his lips. “Oh, but I can. And I will.”

You blink, confused for a moment, but then you see the glint of metal as his hand slips into his pocket. He pulls out a small, black velvet box and opens it in one smooth motion. The ring inside is enormous, the diamond catching the sunlight streaming in from the windows and casting shimmering reflections across the room.

Lando doesn’t ask. He doesn’t get down on one knee. That’s not his style. There’s no question in his mind, and there won’t be in yours, either.

“We’re getting married,” he says, his tone leaving no room for discussion, no space for hesitation. His eyes are locked on yours, the weight of his words sinking in slowly, like gravity pulling you deeper into his orbit. He’s not making a suggestion. He’s making a decision. For both of you. Just like everything else in your life together.

Your breath catches as he takes your left hand, sliding the ring onto your finger. It’s heavy, almost too heavy, but then again, isn’t everything with Lando like that? His presence, his control, his love. All of it weighs on you in ways that sometimes feel overwhelming, but at the same time, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Lando, I …” Your words falter as you stare down at the ring, a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. Excitement, disbelief, love. “I wasn’t expecting …”

“You don’t have to expect anything,” Lando interrupts smoothly, his hand still wrapped around yours, anchoring you to him. “I make the decisions for us. And I’ve decided it’s time. I want you as my wife.”

Your heart races at the finality in his voice, at the way he always seems to know exactly what you need before you even realize it yourself.

You look up at him, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something — vulnerability, maybe — in your expression. But Lando catches it, and his hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you close until your foreheads are almost touching.

“Trust me,” he murmurs, his voice low, intimate. “This is right. We’re right.”

You nod, the words catching in your throat as emotion wells up inside you. “Yes,” you finally whisper, your voice shaky but certain.

Lando’s smirk deepens as he presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your lips, a soft, possessive brush of his mouth against yours.

“Good girl,” he murmurs against your skin, the praise making your heart flutter.

Your daughter gurgles in Lando’s lap, her tiny fingers still clutching his tie, and he chuckles softly, pulling back just enough to glance down at her.

“See that, little one?” He says, his voice shifting into something softer, more playful as he speaks to your daughter. “Mummy’s going to be Mrs. Norris soon. Isn’t that right, baby?”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound light and filled with happiness, as you reach out to stroke your daughter’s cheek. She coos at you both, completely oblivious to the monumental moment that just unfolded.

Lando shifts his grip on her, settling her more comfortably in his arms before his eyes meet yours again. There’s a heat in his gaze now, something deeper, more possessive. “We’ll have a celebration soon,” he says, his tone firm. “But today, I want you all to myself. No distractions. Just us.”

Your pulse quickens at the implication behind his words, and you feel a familiar warmth spread through you as you lean into him, your fingers curling around the front of his shirt.

Lando tilts your chin up, pressing another soft kiss to your lips, and for a moment, the world outside disappears. It’s just you, Lando, and your daughter — the family you never imagined, but the one you wouldn’t trade for anything.

“Let’s have lunch,” you finally say, breaking the silence with a soft smile. “I made all your favorites.”

Lando’s eyes darken with something unspoken, but he nods, the smirk still playing at the corner of his lips. “After,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “Right now, I want to spend time with my girls.”

And with that, he pulls you even closer, the weight of his presence wrapping around you like the most precious gift of all.

***

Lando lies in bed with you curled up against his side, his arm draped possessively around your waist, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. The room is dark and quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside the penthouse windows and the occasional faint sound from the baby monitor on the nightstand, signaling your daughter’s peaceful sleep in the nursery next door. It’s a rare moment of calm, one of the few times when Lando’s dominant presence seems softer, more intimate.

But even in moments like these, where his touch is gentle and his voice low, that control is never far beneath the surface. It’s in the way his arm tightens slightly around you, holding you close as if he can’t bear to let you go, not even for a moment. It’s in the way his eyes, though closed, seem always watchful, always aware of you, of every movement you make.

You let out a soft sigh, your body fully relaxed against his. It’s been a long day, but a good one, filled with moments that have become your new normal — bringing Lando lunch at the office, watching him melt when he sees you and your daughter, his two girls, as he always calls you. The rhythm of your life has shifted since you became a family, but Lando remains the constant anchor, the force that drives everything forward.

As you settle deeper into the warmth of his embrace, Lando’s hand moves from your waist to rest gently on your stomach, his palm warm against your skin. The gesture seems innocent at first, a continuation of the tender touches you’ve shared all evening, but then his hand lingers, his fingers spreading out slightly as if to claim more of you.

His voice breaks the silence, soft but unmistakably deliberate. “You know,” he begins, his tone casual, yet carrying that undercurrent of intent that always makes your heart race, “I’ve been thinking.”

You open your eyes, tilting your head slightly to glance up at him. “Thinking about what?”

Lando’s eyes are still closed, but there’s a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, the kind that tells you he’s about to say something that will change everything. “About us,” he says, his hand pressing a little more firmly against your stomach. “And about how perfect you looked carrying our little girl.”

Your breath hitches slightly at his words, a flush rising to your cheeks as the meaning behind them begins to sink in. “Lando …” you start, but your voice falters, unsure of what to say.

He opens his eyes then, looking down at you with that piercing gaze that always makes you feel like you’re the only thing in the world that matters to him. “You’ve been perfect, baby,” he says, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate register. “More than I ever imagined. But now …” His thumb strokes your skin, just beneath the swell of your stomach, and his eyes darken with that familiar possessiveness. “It’s time for the next one.”

You blink up at him, your mind racing to catch up with his words. “The next one?”

Lando nods, his expression entirely serious, but with a hint of excitement beneath the surface, as if he’s been thinking about this for longer than he’s letting on. “It’s time we started working on our next baby,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I want to see you pregnant again. And this time …” His hand tightens just slightly on your stomach, his voice taking on a more commanding edge. “I want you to be pregnant when we get married. Walking down the aisle with my ring on your finger and a little bump under your dress. Doesn’t that sound perfect?”

Your heart skips a beat at the image he paints, the idea of walking down the aisle, your hand in his, your body already showing signs of the new life you’d created together. It’s overwhelming and thrilling all at once, the way everything with Lando always is.

“Lando,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper as you try to process what he’s saying. “We just had our daughter …”

He chuckles softly, the sound low and filled with that familiar confidence that always sets you on edge. “And she’s perfect,” he agrees, his fingers trailing up to brush the side of your face. “But why stop there? We’re just getting started, baby. I want a family. A big one. And I want you to be the one who gives it to me.”

His words settle over you like a blanket, heavy and warm, filled with expectation. There’s no question in his tone, no room for hesitation. Lando has already decided, just as he always does. And as much as the thought takes your breath away, there’s a part of you that already knows you’ll give him what he wants. You always do.

You bite your lip, your mind racing as you try to form a coherent response. “But … what if I’m not ready?”

Lando’s eyes darken at your hesitation, his hand moving from your stomach to tilt your chin up so that you’re forced to meet his gaze. “You are ready,” he says firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt. “I know you are.” He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “You were made for this, baby. For me. For our family. And you’ll give me what I want, won’t you?”

Your heart pounds in your chest, your body already responding to the commanding tone of his voice, the way his words wrap around you like a vice, pulling you deeper into his world, his desires. You nod slowly, unable to do anything else. “Yes, Lando,” you whisper, your voice trembling with both anticipation and submission. “I’ll give you what you want.”

A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face as he pulls back to look at you, his eyes gleaming with triumph. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, a reward for your obedience.

He doesn’t waste any more time. His hand moves lower, slipping beneath the sheets, his touch firm and deliberate as he begins to remind you exactly who you belong to. Your breath hitches, your body arching toward him instinctively, already pliant under his control.

“You’re going to look so beautiful, baby,” he whispers against your skin as his hand moves with expert precision. “Walking down the aisle with my child growing inside you. Everyone will see. Everyone will know.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mixture of desire and awe flooding through you. He’s not just talking about a wedding. He’s talking about a future, one that’s already been mapped out in his mind, one that you’re destined to follow. And as overwhelming as it is, there’s something undeniably thrilling about being part of his plan, of knowing that you’re the center of his world, the one who will give him everything he wants.

Lando’s movements become more insistent, his lips trailing down your neck as he presses you further into the mattress, his body radiating heat and control. You can feel the weight of his expectations, the force of his desire, and it’s enough to make your head spin.

“Lando,” you gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as your body trembles beneath him.

“Shh, baby,” he soothes, his voice dark and commanding as his hand continues its relentless pace. “Just let go. Let me take care of you.”

And you do. You always do.

[fastandcarlos]

Game, Set & Match : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: after deciding to go to the tennis whilst at home, lando’s attention is captured by one of the players he watches on court

pairing: lando x tennis!reader

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 2,583,382 others

landonorris: such a joy to be courtside today to watch some super tennis…a nice reminder that coordination with a racket is not my strongest skill 🎾

259,462 comments

username1: how does he manage to look good in every single photo of him!?

maxverstappen1: gonna tell us who that other racquet belongs to or leave us hanging..? 🤔

username2: he was there to watch yn, I was there and he didn’t take his eyes off of her 😂

carlossainz55: pay close attention and then one day you might be good enough to challenge me!

georgerussell63: that’s the smile you have when there’s someone around you fancy 😂

landonorris: @/georgerussell63 I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about…

username3: do we think that maybe there’s something here??

username4: they would be such a good match if they were together 😭

ynusername: hope you enjoyed the match, it was lovely to have you there!

landonorris: @/ynusername you were amazing, it was awesome to see you play in person too 👏🏻

username5: he wasn’t even sat in her player box so I think we all just need to calm down 😮‍💨

oscarpiastri: that’s it, pretend you were there for the tennis!

username6: maybe ask yn if she’ll give you a few lessons 😉

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by djokernole, naomiosaka and 358,413 others

ynusername: CHAMPION!! words will never do justice to explain just how much this means to me 🏆✨

31,857 comments

username7: the most incredible week, congratulations yn on getting the W ❤️

andymurray: congratulations on an incredible run yn, that was the best I’ve ever seen you play 🎾

username8: she only played this well because lando was watching 🙃

igaswiatek: an honour to be on the other side of the net and see you pick up your first trophy ☺️

username9: can’t believe you’re the champion, a dream week for you ✨

naomiosaka: girl I am so unbelievably proud of you for what you’ve achieved 👏🏻

landonorris: it was an honour to be here and watch you play, congratulations once again ☺️

ynusername: @/landonorris it was awesome to meet you after the match 🤝

username10: lando norris needs to start turning up to more tennis games!!

username11: are we just gonna ignore the fact that he’s still here and in her comments now too!?!

djokernole: that was an incredible match yn, the first of many victories I’m sure 👏🏻

username12: wait for lando to try and convince us that he’s always loved tennis and this has nothing to do with yn 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by georgerussell63, danielricciardo and 2,483,172 others

landonorris: he goes to one tennis game and now he thinks he’s a pro at padel (which I definitely am btw!)💪🏻

216,607 comments

username13: yn definitely needs to come and give you some lessons 😂

maxverstappen1: can absolutely confirm that you are not a pro at padel in the slightest 🏸

alex_albon: if you’re a pro then I must be the ronaldo of padel 🙄

landonorris: @/alex_albon there is absolutely no chance you are better at padel than me ‼️

username14: if nothing else, at least you’re better than oscar!!

username15: we want video proof or we’re not believing a word of it norris

georgerussell63: stop lying to yourself lando we’ve talked to you about this!!

username16: did he go to the tennis just to pick up tips after all???

danielricciardo: I can’t believe you’ve actually just called yourself a pro at padel 🤦🏻

landonorris: @/danielricciardo it would be unfair of me to lie to the people

username17: idc how good you are at padel, you still look for to me 🔥

oscarpiastri: sometimes you’re so bad you make me look good at this game!

username18: everyone just needs to take a step back, we all know how much of a sport geek lando is…

ynusername: one day I’ll teach you how to be a true racket sports pro 😂

landonorris: @/ynusername I might just take you up on that offer…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by mclaren, landonorris and 327,408 others

ynusername: thank you mclaren for welcoming me into your garage for the weekend, I had the time of my life 🧡🏎️

42,604 comments

username19: watch the hardcore fans try and convince us that there’s nothing going on here…

landonorris: it was amazing to have you here with us this weekend, hope you enjoyed as much as I enjoyed the tennis ☺️

ynusername: @/landonorris I think you might’ve just turned me into an f1 fan 🥺

landonorris: @/ynusername I knew I’d be able to convince you 🥲

username20: oscar already taking on the proud role of third wheel 😂

username21: he’s here in the likes and the comments, my mind is made up here!!

emmaraducanu: can’t believe you went to the f1 without me 😭

ynusername: @/emmaraducanu I’m sorry please don’t hate me 😂

username22: pls mclaren give us what we want and film some content with these two

oscarpiastri: it was an honour to meet you and show you around the garage 🧡

username23: how long are they gonna drag this out before they put themselves!?

maxverstappen1: just so you know red bull are so much better than mclaren 😉

landonorris: @/maxverstappen1 stop lying to her 😂 I made sure to tell yn just how superior we are!!

username24: omg just hurry up and kiss already 😮‍💨

mclaren: you’re welcome back anytime, thank you for paying us a visit 🧡

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 2,594,473 others

landonorris: she shot an ace through my heart and now it’s game, set and match norris 💞

47,139 comments

username25: lando coming straight at us with the world’s worst tennis pun 😩

maxverstappen1: that caption is the mist disgusting thing I’ve ever seen from you 🙄

username26: look at that smile she must make him so happy!!

danielricciardo: how long did it take you to come up with that caption…

landnorris: @/danielricciardo longer than I’d like to admit to!

username27: that caption has given me such an ick 😂

oscarpiastri: still gonna argue you that you want to the tennis to actually watch the tennis!?

username28: they just knew that there was no pretending that they weren’t together with us!

charles_leclerc: alex told me to tell you she wants to meet yn asap!

landonorris: @/charles_leclerc let’s do dinner so I can share all your embarrassing stories

username29: the writing in the sand has made my heart so happy 🥺

ynusername: I think I might’ve changed my mind after reading that caption 😂

landonorris: @/ynusername sorry but you’re mine now and I’m not letting you go!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 428,066 others

ynusername: turns out tennis and f1 do go pretty well together after all 🥺

48,721 comments

username30: I’m so obsessed with these two I can’t cope already

landonorris: I think they make quite the team 💞

username31: if we didn’t believe lando then I think we can definitely believe yn 😂

oscarpiastri: do I still have to pretend that you and lando are definitely not dating???

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri no you’re relieved of your duties now 😂

username32: can’t wait for all the couples sports content we’re gonna get from these two!

danielricciardo: reluctantly giving my racing boyfriend up so he can spend time with you 🥹

ynusername: @/danielricciardo you’re welcome to third wheel whenever you want!

landonorris: @/danielricciardo no you’re not 😂 leave the two of us the hell alone!

username33: ngl I love how they love the sport that the other person does so passionately 😩

maxverstappen1: we’re relying on you now yn to teach this kid how to play padel 🙃

username34: thank you to whoever decided to introduce lando to yn at the tennis that day 🙏🏻

mclaren: I guess we should look into getting you a pass 😉🧡

ynusername: @/mclaren yes yes yes yes!!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Voice from Afar

word count: 803

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

Summery: During a rain delay at the São Paulo Grand Prix, a heartwarming live broadcast connects Toto Wolff’s family from England to the Mercedes pit wall

______________________________________________________________

The São Paulo paddock was buzzing under the pounding rain, as fans and crew alike took cover, waiting for the skies to clear. The delay left the Sky F1 team scrambling to keep their broadcast interesting, with no cars on track. That’s when Ted Kravitz, with his trusty umbrella and microphone, spotted a familiar face in the Mercedes garage.

“Bradley! Just the man I was hoping to see,” Ted greeted, waving to Bradley Lord, who was managing a smile despite the drenched surroundings.

“Ah, Ted, what a day for a chat!” Bradley chuckled, motioning at the empty pit wall seats. “It’s a bit lonely out here without Toto keeping us all in line.”

“Oh, I bet,” Ted replied with a grin. “So tell me, what actually happens to Toto’s chair while he’s away? Is it sacred territory, or does someone brave sit down in it?”

Bradley laughed, shaking his head. “It’s generally considered off-limits, actually—though you wouldn’t believe the number of mechanics who try to sneak a quick sit when no one’s looking. But today’s a bit different, actually. You see, Toto may not be here in person, but he’s not entirely missing. He’s… let’s just say he’s very much tuned in.”

Ted raised his eyebrows, intrigued. “Oh, is he? Listening in from afar? The plot thickens…”

Bradley smirked. “Not only Toto—he’s got a little help today. Care to say hello, Jack?”

The camera zoomed in on Bradley’s headset as an eager young voice came through, beaming with pride, “Hi, Mr. Ted! This is Jack! I’m helping Papa today. Are you at the track?”

The surprise on Ted’s face was priceless. “Jack! Good to meet you! I am at the track. Are you helping your dad with the race?”

“Yeah!” Jack’s voice crackled with excitement, his words rushing out. “Papa let me listen in on the race calls! And Mama is helping me understand what they’re talking about. She knows all the strategies! Papa just does a lot of… loud talking.”

Ted laughed heartily, sharing a grin with Bradley. “Loud talking, you say? Sounds like a pretty accurate job description! Jack, what’s the most important thing you’ve learned from your dad so far?”

There was a slight pause as Jack considered his answer. “Um… that it’s important to be calm. Even when you’re yelling.”

At that moment, everyone listening on the broadcast could hear faint laughter in the background, unmistakably belonging to Y/n. Her warm voice then came through, and it was clear she was smiling.

“Hi, Ted,” Y/n greeted softly. “Let’s just say Jack has been reminding his papa to stay calm every five minutes.”

Ted grinned, absolutely charmed by the whole situation. “Y/n, great to hear from you! So, you’re both managing Toto from afar? Quite the operation you’ve got running there.”

“Absolutely,” Y/n replied, with a light laugh. “And Jack’s already given the team some advice to stay careful in the rain. I’d say he’s a natural.”

“Is that right, Jack?” Ted asked, feigning serious interest as if interviewing a race engineer. “Are you giving everyone strategic advice from back home?”

Jack’s reply was enthusiastic and full of pride. “Yeah! I told them to relax and be careful because the rain makes it slippery. And I reminded Papa to drink water. Mama says it helps him focus.”

Bradley, who was standing beside Ted, tried his best to keep a straight face, but his smile was almost too wide to hide.

“Well, it sounds like you’re keeping everyone in check, Jack,” Ted replied, nodding in mock seriousness. “Are you sure you’re not ready to take over for your dad?”

Just then, Toto’s familiar voice boomed over the line, with an unmistakable tone of warmth and amusement. “Ted, Jack’s very persuasive, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves! He’s got his mother’s attention to detail, though, so I may have to watch my back.”

The entire broadcast team, Bradley included, burst into laughter. Ted’s face lit up, and he leaned closer to the camera. “Well, Toto, it sounds like you’ve got some strong competition at home. Jack may be a few years away from taking over, but he’s certainly got the makings of a future team principal!”

“Thank you, Mr. Ted!” Jack replied, and then added in a confidential tone, “But I’ll let Papa keep his job for now. He’s good at it, too.”

From the background, Y/n’s soft laughter could be heard again, along with a few playful words. “You’ve trained him well, Toto.”

Just as Ted prepared to wrap up, Jack’s voice chimed in once more. “Oh, and Mr. Ted, can you tell Lewis and George to drive carefully? I want them to win, but Mama says they should be careful too.”

Ted nodded solemnly, genuinely touched. “Absolutely, Jack. I’ll pass along your message. And I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”

[creamflix]

character insert x female reader; 18+ content, minors and blank blogs do not interact. established relationship, modern au. dom!reader. lots of teasing. (addicted to the) weird girl pussy ! #needthat. — masterlist here ☆

people never quite understood you.

a "weird girl," they called you — quiet, withdrawn, someone who didn’t fit into their neatly packaged little worlds. but what baffled them more than your oddities was the fact that he was with you. the most sought-after man, someone who could have anyone he wanted, yet he trailed behind you like a lost puppy. the whispers, the stares, the judgment — you could feel them everywhere, gnawing at your back as you walked hand-in-hand with him, like you didn’t belong.

“what does she have on him?” “he’s probably dating her for a dare.” “god, she’s so strange, why would he be with her?”

you heard it all. and so did he. but while you brushed it off, your presence sent him spiraling into need. it wasn't what they thought — you had the upper hand here. and he knew it too well.

you caught him staring again, his eyes glued to you, his lips parted like he was about to say something, but didn’t. just the sight of you standing there, minding your own business, was enough to make him lose his composure. his reputation as the confident, cocky guy who could charm anyone disappeared the moment he was alone with you. because when it came to you, he was nothing more than a whiney, needy mess.

he tugged on your sleeve, his voice already trembling. “c-can we go? please?”

you shot him a lazy glance, raising an eyebrow as if you didn’t already know what he wanted. “go where?” you teased, feigning ignorance.

his lips pressed into a thin line, his fingers twitching as they brushed your arm, but he didn’t meet your eyes. “you know where,” he mumbled, voice low, practically choking on his own need.

you smiled, but it wasn’t the soft kind. no, it was the kind that made him squirm. he was the one with the power, the money, the looks — but when it came to you? it was like he couldn’t even think straight.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, voice soft but teasing. you took a step closer, and his breath hitched, his eyes darting to the ground as if that could hide the pink dusting his cheeks.

you heard the whispers behind you again — the mocking laughter, the mean-spirited comments. they thought you were a nobody. to them, you were the odd one out. but they didn’t see how his entire demeanor crumbled in your presence, how the proud, arrogant man they knew became this — a whining, desperate mess, practically begging for your attention.

“can’t we just go home?” his voice cracked, and you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips.

“why?” you asked, feigning innocence again. your fingers trailed up his arm, watching as he sucked in a shaky breath, his lips parting just slightly. “don’t you like these gatherings?”

his gaze finally met yours, eyes wide, pupils blown, desperation written all over his face. “it’s… i… you know i can’t focus when you’re around like this,” he muttered, his voice dropping into a whine that made you want to laugh. how could someone like him get so worked up over someone like you?

but you knew why. it was because he was pussy drunk — so drunk off you, off the way you held his attention without even trying. the neediness in his voice, the way he fidgeted under your gaze, it was all because he couldn’t control himself around you.

“is that my problem?” you asked, your voice dripping with amusement, as you leaned in closer, brushing your lips lightly against his ear. “or yours?”

he let out a shaky breath, his hand gripping your wrist like he couldn’t stand it anymore. “please… please, i need you.” his voice was barely a whisper now, just a shaky breath against your skin. the confidence he showed everyone else was gone, replaced by this vulnerable, desperate version of himself that only you ever saw. and god, you loved it.

you could hear the wet sound of his lips parting as he kissed your neck, his hands shaking as they gripped your waist, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t bear even an inch of distance between you. “can’t we just leave? i need… i can’t think straight,” he begged, his breath hot against your skin.

and you knew why. it wasn’t because he was embarrassed of you, like people assumed — no, it was because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. he couldn’t stop picturing your sweet, slick pussy, couldn’t stop imagining how you tasted, how you felt. he needed you, and he needed you now. but you weren’t going to make it easy for him. not when he was like this — so damn whiney, so desperate, so willing to give in to whatever you wanted.

“you’re such a mess,” you said softly, running your fingers through his hair as he buried his face in your neck, groaning at the contact.

he let out a soft whimper, one that made your stomach flip with satisfaction. “please,” he begged, his voice so small, so needy. “just let me —”

you could feel the way his fingers tightened around you, the way his breath became ragged as his mouth brushed your collarbone, leaving hot, wet kisses in its wake. “can’t… can’t control myself,” he mumbled between kisses, his voice strained. “you’re driving me insane.”

the sound of his desperation was music to your ears, the way his lips made those soft, wet noises as he pressed them against your skin, the little whimpers and groans escaping him as he lost himself in the moment. he was barely holding it together, practically trembling with need, and you loved watching him like this — knowing that you were the reason he was falling apart.

“what’s the matter, baby?” you cooed, running your hand through his hair again, watching as he looked up at you with those wide, pleading eyes. “can’t handle it?”

he shook his head, his breath shaky as his fingers trailed lower, grazing the waistband of your pants. “no… can’t handle it,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “need you… please.”

and god, the sound of him begging was everything. they thought he was some untouchable, cocky man, but here he was, completely undone because of you. no one would believe it if they saw — the same man who commanded rooms and left people hanging on his every word was now on his knees, hands shaking, lips wet, and voice trembling, all because he couldn’t get enough of your touch.

“you’re such a good boy,” you whispered, letting him kiss your skin, loving the way his lips trailed down your stomach, leaving a hot, wet trail. his mouth hovered over your pussy, and he whimpered again, his lips parting as if he could taste you already.

and you? you’d let him have it. because you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

#needthat

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[maybanksprincess]

your mine.

warnings: suggestive, jj being a dick, pet names, kissing, kinda aggressive.

summary: someone at the beach is flirting with jjs girl, and he's not having it.

pairings: fwb!jj x fem!reader

requested by this ask! (thank you anon🤍)

it was a typically warm day in the outerbanks, you were wearing a skimpy pink bikini, that rides up on your thighs to let your tan lines show the tiniest bit.

jj had an arm slung around your shoulder, a beer in his other hand, as he watches the sunset. his thumb rubs light circles onto the shoulder his arm was around.

he reluctantly drops his arm from your shoulder and brings the almost empty beer bottle down from his lips. he turns to look at you, his eyes meeting yours.

"imma go get another beer, you gon' be okay?" he asks, his eyes tracing your face. he emphasizes the need for another beer, by holding it up and shaking it, the small amount of liquid swooshing around in the bottle.

"yeah of course, I'll be here." you smile up at him warmly and wave him off. you then turn back to look at the sun setting again to fill your "boyfriend's" absence.

he nods and walks away towards the punch and beer cooler, a few feet away from you.

as your staring up at the sky, you feel a pair of unfamiliar arms wrap around you. you turn around with a confused expression on your face, it's a random guy who you had seen stealing glances at you moments before.

you uncomfortably slip out of his grasp with a forced polite smile on your face. "I'm sorry, can I help you?" you ask, making eye contact with the man.

the man lets his hands drop to his sides, a sense of disappointment crossing his features. he quickly masks it with a smirk. he props his hand up on the tree behind your head and leans in closer. "i think you can sweetheart...you here alone?"

you can feel the uncomfortable feeling of his breath fanning on your face, something that makes you flustered only when jj does it. you were about to say something. tell him that you had a boyfriend, and you were taken, even though you technically weren't, but before you can open your mouth, you see the man being dragged by his collar.

your confused for a moment, but then you turn to see jj with a furious expression on his face. "What d' you think you're doing man? hittin' on my girl?" he asks with a possessive undertone to his words.

the man looks at him with a fearful expression and holds his hands up, his fingers slightly trembling. he gulps with fear etched on his face before he speaks, "i-i didnt know she was taken man. my bad."

jj chuckles lowly, before dropping his hands from his collar and shoving him. "yeah it is your bad."

the man starts to walk away before jj yells after him, "hey next time 'm gonna be doin' a lot more than shoving you!" he scoffs, then turns to you, gently wrapping an arm around your waist.

"cmon, lets go home pretty girl. remind you who you belong to, yeah?" he presses a little kiss to your temple before guiding you away from the sand.

[multimilfs]

Lilia Calderu x Fem!Reader: In Omnibus Aequitas

Summary: Agatha isn't the only witch with a force of nature trailing after her.

AO3

A/N: oh my god i can't explain how excited i am to post this! so much thought and careful crafting went into this!! actually begging someone to ask for the TED talk on my planning process for this because hooooo boy

this is my first time writing Lilia, so apologies if the characterization is shaky at all!

also to give credit where credit is due, the idea for this Reader was prompted by a post from the brilliant trickofthelights, whom i admire greatly. i'll attach the post here

Tag List: @emiliaisdead @kenzie-floops @nightmare-of-homophobes @thepotatoislost @mckiejames @women-are-so-ethereal @galaxydreamer468 @angeliccss @goldenautomaton @asolitaryrose3 @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @escapetodreamworld

Warning(s): None

Shadows often linger in the periphery of Lilia’s vision; this she has grown to accept, on the basis that they are gone when she turns to face them. And she is glad of it each time. The twisted shapes and figures of the primordial horrors that linger are not made to be witnessed, even by her eyes.

So when a figure lingers, she turns with the expectation of seeing the silhouette vanish, but she’s not the only one who turns.

It strikes her as odd that Rio should see whatever she does. This thought occurs to her mid-ballad, fire licking at the back of her neck. When she looks, though, the figure does not vanish, but neither is it a horror to behold.

You are as beautiful as she remembers. The memory, coupled with your eyes on her, nearly trips her up. But Lilia holds strong through the rest of Lorna’s ballad—even as the burns on her shoulders ache, even as your eyes dart away and meet the curious gaze belonging to Rio, even, even as you watch her with that unerring devotion she had once craved.

When Alice tilts her head back, singing with the full force of her soul, Lilia’s eyes leave you. She watches the curse burn to ash above Alice.

You’re gone when Lilia glances back.

---

Sharon, human she may have been, was right about one thing—no witch can be expected to traverse the road without rest. So, the coven opts to take turns keeping watch around the little fire they’ve built.

Lilia volunteers for the first watch, restless, feeling the weight of eyes on her still. She should’ve known you wouldn’t stay away long.

Your entrance comes when the rest of the coven has fallen asleep; Jen and Alice on one side of the fire, propped up against the rock they sat upon, Agatha furthest from the fire, back to it, while Rio—if that is her true name—sleeps near enough to lay a hand on her waist. Teen, she assumes, remains in the makeshift bed they made for him.

She sees your shadow at the edge of the clearing, hesitant. Looking over her coven one last time, she stands, and walks to where you wait outside the light.

“What do you want?”

You reach out, a hand on either side of Lilia’s face. She doesn’t shake you off. Yet.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I left.” You murmur.

Lilia’s lip curls, “Are your brutal truths meant to be endearing?”

“No. They’re meant to be nothing more than what they are.”

Against all odds, Lilia has yet to throw off your hold. You run your thumb gently over the curve of her jaw. Everything in you wants to kiss her—has dreamt of it for over a century—but you know it won’t be welcome.

Her curls are frayed and wild around her face in an endearing picture. Mess suits her just as well as refinement; though that could be your bias talking.

“Why are you here?” Lilia asks.

“Because you’re here.” And because your job brought you here, but that’s less romantic.

She seems to sense the omission. Any warmth drains from her expression, her hands removing yours from her person. You miss the closeness immediately.

“A truth and a lie. Which will come next?”

“It wasn’t a lie. I could’ve been anywhere.”

“Then go there. But leave the coven out of this.”

“I have no choice, Lilia.”

Lilia scoffs, “You had a choice when you vanished for a century!”

You close your eyes against the reminder. Hurt flares through you. The ache from years of longing, feeling that veil between you exist so thin, yet being unable to reach through. You hadn’t even been allowed a glimpse.

It was torment. A century should have been easy, but a life without Lilia felt like clawing your way through. If you tell her, will she believe you?

“Please.” You whisper. You’re not sure what you’re asking for.

“Goodnight.”

You hear her walk away, can’t stop yourself from blurting, despite the consequences, “Please, don’t put yourself in harm's way.”

Her jaw is tight, eyes wary. She looks you over as if something about you will give away what you know.

She crosses her arms over her chest. You recognize it as both a way to keep you out and support herself. You ache to be let back in.

“This whole Road is a death wish.”

“Don’t put yourself in more danger than normal.” You say, then, smaller, “I can’t protect you.”

“Are you asking for my sake or your own?”

“Whichever you’ll listen to.”

“Why ask at all?”

You step forward, hands outstretched to take hers, but you stop short, “Because I love you, Lilia.”

The admission makes her flinch. Her eyes water and she swallows hard. For a fleeting moment you see the startling vulnerability behind her eyes—the loneliness you should have quelled—before she locks it away.

“You can’t love.” Lilia sneers, “It would tip the scales too much.”

“That’s not true.” You defend.

“Oh? Then who, in this wretched universe, have you decided to hate?”

You bite your tongue. Lilia takes your silence for its own—incorrect—answer. Bitterness creeps into her smile.

“Goodnight.”

---

“Here to watch the big show?” Rio asks, lagging behind while the others move forward.

“Just doing my job.”

“Really? I’d say things were pretty square when you showed up.”

You eye her, despising her knowing smile, “Why are you here?”

“My job.”

“Hm. And how many bodies have you collected, again?”

Her smile is wide, but her eyes are cold. She’s always despised that the two of you are equals; that she can’t add you to her menagerie of bodies. Just the same, you’ve despised that you can’t write her name down.

Agatha looks back and tilts her head. You know she can’t see you. Like nothing has happened, Rio turns that grin on Agatha, skipping back to her side.

You catch Lilia’s eyes on you and ignore the question in them.

---

Lilia watches. She follows you in her periphery, makes note of where you are at all times. Her eyes always dart to your hands. Every time she finds them empty, she relaxes.

She’s taken watch, again. You read the weariness in her posture.

Against your better judgment, you lay your hands on her shoulders. She doesn’t shrug them off.

“You need rest as much as they do, beloved.” You murmur.

She stiffens at the old endearment, “We’re splitting the time. I’ll manage.”

You run a hand through her hair. The curls are still loose, wild. You untangle a few of them. Squeezing her shoulder, you place a kiss to the top of her head, savoring the closeness.

For a moment, your hand quivers. You still it. Your punishment was endured with grace, you must endure the distance with the same.

“Sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

Lilia scoffs, “Right.”

The weight of her mistrust is like a knife in your chest. You do not endure the pain with grace; you flinch, tears springing unbidden to your eyes. Lilia’s eyes close in regret.

You wonder if your presence is more of a burden than blessing. Had you mistaken her intent all those years ago? Love is not an emotion that’d come to you naturally. Perhaps, in your learning, you misunderstood, and Lilia’s kind heart wouldn’t allow her to break your illusion.

She had loved you once, hadn’t she? You could swear she had.

“You have to know I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Unless the greater universe calls for it.”

Her tone is honest, but sadness lingers within it. All you want is to see her face.

“If I thought it would do you any favors, I’d throw it all away.” You admit in a whisper.

Lilia turns, then. Her brows are furrowed as her eyes search your own, frantic, swimming with fear. In another time and place, you’d follow the statement with a smirk; but you cannot bring yourself to summon the facade now, not with her.

It isn’t a lie—your admission. If not for the overturning of the world without you, you’d forsake the job on your shoulders. You’d unmake yourself in a moment for her. For the younger witch who sang freely and lamented her gifts. For the wizened witch who eyes you with trepidation, mind rife with your betrayals and shortcomings.

“Where are your lies?” She asks.

“I tell them to myself, so you can have all my truths.”

Lilia smiles then, but it’s bittersweet. A warm hand settles on your cheek. You can’t help it—grace be damned—when you press yourself into the contact. They’re still there—the callouses you remember, rough against your flesh. She still smells of smoke.

There’s a rustling of fabric across the space. Alice shifts, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. Lilia’s touch is gone from you. You settle next to her as she rests, not brave enough to lay another hand upon her.

---

You watch the knife fall as if time has slowed; absently, you think it might be, Time always did love her cruel jokes. It falls with Teen in the direct path. You feel the pen heavy in your hand, the paper near-weightless and yet the heaviest thing you’ve come to bear.

But then Lilia moves. The one moment you need time to slow for you, it’s returned to normal. Lilia shoves Teen out of the way and takes his place in the dagger’s path.

You fall to your knees, “No!”

Throwing your arms out, you aim a burst of magic for the dagger. Consequences be damned. Alice is faster, though, and moves Lilia from the dagger’s path before your magic can make contact.

Rio’s eyes are heavy on you. She can’t do anything—you didn’t technically break any rules, but the intent is damning enough.

“Now this is going to be fun.” Rio purrs.

You stare at the pen and blank paper you dropped in your haste to save Lilia. Your purpose. How close you’d come to unmaking yourself and yet… yet, a part of you is ambivalent to this. The larger part is freaking out, though.

Everyone’s eyes are on you. You flinch. They shouldn’t be able to see you.

Checking your mental list of active charms, you realize you’ve made an error; in your grief-induced act of heroism, you dropped every single charm on your person and directed the energy toward Lilia. The cat’s out of the bag, it would seem.

Lilia is the first to recover, moving out of Alice’s protective hold, “Do you ever think?”

You bristle, yet to stand from your kneeling position. It gives her an advantage over you this once.

“Well and often.” You defend.

“Well?” She questions, beautiful in her terror and rage, “You call that thinking well? You could’ve been killed!”

“You were in danger, Lilia.”

“And you’re not allowed to interfere.”

Ignoring all the eyes on the two of you, Lilia turns and storms through the exit that opened. You watch the road-conjured costume melt back into her normal visage as she gets further away.

It’s then that you recognize the silence.

All of them are staring at you save for Agatha, who eyes Rio with a mixture of trepidation and understanding. You stand as gracefully as you can manage. Smoothing down your clothes, you try to smile, but the action feels slippery on your features. How long has it been?

“What is it with you witches and beautiful mysteries?” Jen asks, “And where can I get one?”

You flush and fidget. The weight of their attention is so much less pleasant than your beloved’s.

Alice tilts her head, “Who are you?”

Holding out your hand, you speak your name. Rio laughs. You blush, remembering that mortal creatures don’t comprehend the original language, not like the two of you. Lilia once said it sounded like botched latin. The coven exchanges various looks of confusion.

“Lilia just calls me—”

“A pain.” Lilia’s voice cuts in, “A very severe, persistent pain. Are you all coming?”

You’re the first to follow, which prompts no shortage of grumbling. You find yourself grinning.

---

“Well, at least we have extra help on The Road.” Jen shrugs, later.

“She can’t help.” Lilia and Rio say in unison.

The two share a look. You can read the distaste in Lilia’s eyes. She doesn’t seem to think much of Rio, not that you do either—and you actually know her.

“Seemed pretty eager to help you, Lilia.”

“A foolish, misguided mistake on her part.”

You flinch at the statement, staring down at your hands. With the charms gone, you witness their true appearance; one completely dark, as if left to char in ember, the other so pale-white it is near translucent.

The beauty of a mortal body with a mortal heart is a range of emotion you’d have never felt before. Though lately, the gift feels more like a burden. Pain is your ever-present companion these days. Even when you look at your beloved, the love that overtakes you is laced with poison; with the reminder of what you had to do.

You can’t bring yourself to wish away the heart in your chest. But you do wish Lilia would be a bit more gentle with it. You’re hardly in the position to make requests, though.

“I can assist in small ways. Taking a watch at night, tending the fire.”

“No.” Lilia shuts you down. You freeze, “You are to do nothing but observe. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, beloved.”

You ignore the look between Alice and Jen.

---

The end of The Road is so near you can practically taste it. It tastes of rot and chaos, but you put that down as a symptom of your disposition. You watch Lilia and the rest of the coven relax, inhaling deeply.

A smile teases at Lilia’s lips.

“What do you smell?” You whisper.

The smile doesn’t vanish as you expect. Rather, it extends to her eyes as she regards you.

“Your perfume.”

You melt. Knees like jelly, you take her hand in your own, and press a kiss to the back of it, ignoring the eyes on the two of you. The Witches Road will give you what you most desire at the end. And before the last trial, it gives the traveler a taste of what their prize is. She can’t reach the end without knowing the truth.

“This body wasn’t mine, did you know that?” You ask. Her expression shifts as she grows a bit more tense in your hold. You hold tighter, “The witch before me had a little over a century left in her when I came. As payment, I had to serve out the rest of her years without the one thing that made it feel like living.”

The words are tumbling from you faster than you can comprehend them. You watch her face, hoping that what you’re stringing together makes enough sense for her to see. Even if it takes some other force whispering the facts into her ear for her to understand, you’ll just be happy that she knows.

Lilia’s the brightest witch you’ve ever known. She’ll figure out what you’re saying, but you just can’t stop; you need to say the words you’ve been dying to say for all these years.

“I never wanted to leave you, beloved.”

There’s no privacy on this cursed road, but you don’t care. If she asked it of you, you’d tell every soul you met how you love her. Lilia Calderu owns your heart, but even more than that, she owns your soul, and you have no desire to take it from her hands—even if she decides to rip it to pieces as repayment.

Let the coven know how you lived a century-long prison sentence to be with her. Let Rio and the greater powers know. You have no shame.

Lilia sneers, “You foolish woman.”

Her hands fist in the front of your shirt and pull your lips to hers. It’s messy; a clash of teeth and lips and noses, a poor imitation of the world-tipping kisses the two of you have found in one another. You’re both horribly out of practice. Never let it be said, however, that passion does not make up for tact. The near-quivering of Lilia’s grip and the force of intent behind her kiss makes up for any clumsiness.

The time on The Road has left her lips chapped, bitter with the remnants of lipstick, and never before have you known something so utterly perfect. You wrap your arms around her waist and pull her close enough that not a breath can exist between you. She sighs against your lips.

A curse of a mortal body is the functions that a higher being like yourself wouldn’t deem necessary; in this case, the need your lungs have for oxygen. Your heart is beating out of your chest and not from desire.

You pull back, panting, forehead resting against Lilia’s.

Breath successfully acquired, you tilt your head and press your lips to Lilia’s cheek, her temple, her forehead—anywhere you can reach, murmuring, reverent, “Lilia. My Lilia.”

“Darling.” She whispers with every kiss, voice hushed with devotion.

A lifetime apart seen to its end. Your fingers still itch with the pent up desire to hold her despite doing so. You were shameless before, but now… Gods help her.

Rio watches the entire display with shameless interest. Her eyebrows are high, a small, curious smile on her lips. Teen had been the first to turn away and busy himself with watching The Road. Somewhere mid-kiss, the remaining three found something more pressing to devote their attention to.

The lack of seeing, however, does not stop Jen from sighing, “When will it be my turn?”

Alice laughs at her side.

---

“Did you know all along?”

Lilia looks up at Agatha’s hushed question. She takes in the messy, haggard, but satisfied look of her fellow witch. She also catches the look Agatha throws your way. You sit across the clearing, Teen at your side, listening with rapt attention as you explain something about the moon.

“I had a suspicion when you mentioned my fortune.” Lilia admits.

A suspicion. A burgeoning hope she hadn’t let herself acknowledge.

“Oh?”

“What is fortune if not a lack of balance?” She shrugs, unable to look away from you, “To change it meant the end of my pain.”

“Enter, your solution.”

“Solution and problem.”

The two share a wry laugh. Lilia’s careful not to ask any pointed questions about Rio, though curiosity does eat away at her. Is anyone better suited to appreciate her experience?

Rio, while polarizing, is beautiful—and seems to have attached herself to Agatha in a way best suited to the witch. There is a beauty in it. Though she admits she’ll always prefer your well-meaning brutality over that which Agatha receives. To each their own.

“The Road seems to play favorites, giving you your prize early.” Agatha muses.

“Having her isn’t the prize,” Lilia corrects, “keeping her is.”

Agatha hums, eyes contemplative.

You’re aware of the eyes on you from across the clearing, but pay it little attention, instead devoting yourself fully to the question Teen has asked you. Gesturing with your hands, you weave similarities between the First Coven and their own. He watches you with a starstruck expression.

Something in your conversation prompts him to tilt his head. He fiddles with the little spellbook attached to his hip. Your musings come to a natural close and he speaks up.

“Can I ask—why Lilia? I mean, she’s great, but I guess I don’t understand.” Teen changes the subject.

You smile.

“Do you know the average person’s response to upsetting the state of the world?” You ask. Teen thinks, then shakes his head, “There isn’t one. It doesn’t matter what they’ve undone in the grand scheme, they’re painfully ignorant of what they’ve done. And what’s worse, most don’t care.”

It’s an old grievance you have with the greater universe. You recognize the necessity of it, but will never deny how it grates on you.

“Lilia… Lilia spent a large part of her life as a harbinger of tragedy. She’d travel through villages and upturn their worlds with a prediction.” You sigh, chest aching with the pain you know she suffered, “But when she did, she always sought to fix it. There were times she leveled the scales so completely that I didn’t have to do a thing. Few had ever considered me in such a way before.”

You look up from your fidgeting hands to Lilia. Her eyes are already on you. The warm, steady weight of her gaze makes you melt.

“And the others, well, none of them were her.”

Teen nods, “That’s sweet. I think.”

You chuckle. In a moment of fondness, you ruffle the curls on his head. He rolls his eyes but allows the contact; how do you tell a force of nature no?

---

You stare back down The Road with the coven. Though the return journey will be without any of the usual hassles, you curse the greater powers for not just providing an exit door. Your feet are killing you.

Lilia looks weary despite having rested. You rub a hand over her back, working out the knots you find with a skilled hand. She sighs.

“Where do we go from here?” She asks.

You raise a brow, “Back to the start of The Road.”

Lilia glares, though it lacks significant heat, “Us, darling.”

Ah.

“Wherever you lead, beloved.”

“That’s a lot of control.”

“Give me a century or so and I’ll start making decisions again.”

Her fingers lace through your own. Lilia stares down the length of The Road she has traversed and conquered, yet the greatest battle lies beyond. The world will never again be the same for her.

You raise her hand to your lips. You press gentle kisses to the knuckles.

“To the return of your glory.” You murmur.

Lilia looks at you for a long moment. Using your hold, she pulls you down, into a short but mind-numbing kiss. You hold tight and sigh, content.

She corrects, “To the return of balance.”

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Seven

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.8k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Brief suggestive content, sex dream. Mentions of domestic violence, stalking. Hospital setting, nurse!reader. Feelings of fear, anxiety. Mentions of stress and weight loss. Soft dads. Little bit of flirting. Simon is... Simon. You get caught in a spell.

Johnny knows this is a dream. 

It’s an odd thing, to be conscious of it, to know you’re dreaming but still unable to control your actions. It’s like watching a movie of yourself, but also being yourself, directing your body without having a say in what it’s doing. 

He knows this is a dream, because you’re in it. You’re in their home, in one of Simon’s oversized sweatshirts, boy shorts rucked up over the little lightning bolts that arc across your hips, the underside of your cheeks. You’re smiling at him too, like you belong in there, like it’s yours too, and his heart swells, growing to a preposterous size.

“There’s my bunny.” He pulls you into his chest, mouthing up your neck and over your jaw. Your skin tastes like sugar, and when he gets to your lips, his hands shift, sliding down your back to grab two fistfuls of your ass with a groan. “Missed ye.” 

“We missed you too.” His fingers trace the edge of your panty line, barely dipping into where you drip for him. “Come to bed, Si’s waiting.” You whisper, stifling a moan. 

“Johnny.” Simon calls him, too loudly. He wants to hiss, snap at him about not waking the baby. “Johnny!”

His eyes blink open. White ceiling stares back at him, and he turns his head, finding Simon with a bemused look on his face. 

“I was havin’ a great dream.” Johnny grumbles, latching onto him. Simon scoots closer, lifting the back of his hand to his lips with a secretive smile, dotting kisses down to his wrist. 

“I know.” 

 “- and he has access privileges, as long he’s not interfering with care, he’s allowed to be in the room whenever he deems fit. Obviously, in cases where he shouldn’t be, like burn debridement, he’s fine with stepping out, but you should expect him to sleep here.” The nurse nods, nervously peeking over your shoulder at Simon, who’s lurking in the hallway, staring through the glass at the transport techs getting Johnny settled in his room. You catch her eyes, motioning to redirect her attention, and she mumbles a meek apology. “They have a daughter, who Johnny has been mostly separated from since he got here, and he’s hoping to see her often, since she’ll be allowed to visit more freely now. I told him it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Okay.” Her toes tap against linoleum, weight shifting from foot to foot, and you resist the urge to sprint back to her boss and demand someone else. Fuck. Why does Nora have to be on maternity leave? 

“This is my favorite patient.” You warn her instead, dropping your voice low, pitching it brazenly serious. “I don’t ever want to see him back upstairs again, and that’s going to depend a lot on you.”

“Okay, okay.” Her work phone rings, and you jerk your head in dismissal, not quite finished, but not seeing a need to continue to harangue her, either.

Simon glances at you from down the hall, head turning once you’re alone. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t call to you, or say your name, but you’re helpless to the magnetic yank of his presence, a beam of gravity dragging you closer until you’re shoulder to shoulder, looking into Johnny’s room. He’s asleep, dark lashes feathered against his cheeks, blissed out and nearly snoring. “This will be great.” You say quietly. “He can see Penny almost as much as he wants down here. There are far less restrictions, and he’s doing so well, there’s nothing to worry about it.” He doesn’t say anything, just watches you with the x-ray vision that peels you open. Like he’s digging around in your head again.

“D’you have a minute?” You blink at him, graceful words dried out and missing.

“Uh, I… yeah, I’m technically off now so. Sure?”

“Have a tea with me? I’ll meet you outside the café, on the patio. Ten minutes alright?” Have a… have a tea with him? 

His eyes are heavy. They’re lasered, locked onto yours, brows knitted together in something soft, some form of emotion that you don’t understand, framing his face above the mask. How can you say no? 

“Okay, sure. Ten minutes.” You try to hide how your hands shake, tucking fingernail to palm, squeezing tight.

It doesn’t escape him.

You grow more afraid with each day, that nothing does.

The paper cup cradled in Simon’s outstretched grip is like every other paper cup you’ve seen before, drank from a thousand times, with steam wafting from its rim and aromatics spilling out into the air. “Sorry.” You blurt, reaching. His fingers brush against yours, warm contact momentarily stunning you. ‘Thanks.” You lift the tea to your nose, inhaling deeply.

Irish breakfast. With milk. Your favorite. 

“How do you know what tea I drink?” You don’t mean for it to sound so suspicious, or aggressive, but it does. It’s nearly accusatory, but doesn’t affect him. He merely shrugs in response.

“I pay attention.” An engine turns over in the carpark, a small car sweeping across the lot as it turns out onto the street. You watch, feigning mild interest, trying to get a closer look at the driver without appearing too fixated. “So.” He sips, and then removes the lid, vapor rising from the top in a delicate little dance. “How long have you been at Addenbrooke’s?”

“A few years.” The answer is effortlessly supplied, like you’re under a spell. Your eyes go round. What are you doing? Crow’s feet crinkle at the corners of his own, and you manage a shaky smile.

“What brought you across the pond?” He jokes, velvet, soothing lilt in his voice.

“Work.” It’s easy to lie about this, the fabrication usually used in casual conversation almost every day with patients and new coworkers, people who are interested in you being from somewhere else, having a different accent, different education, customs, the whole lot. His jaw moves behind the mask, and before he can push the question further, you rush out your own interruption. “Simon, I want… I want to talk to you about something.”

“Sure.” He nods. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s… the other night Johnny said something about,” Your face is nearly scalding, embarrassment laden lump stuck in the back of your throat. “about you and him, and… me, I guess…” you trail off, eyes darting down into the tea.

“Go on?”

“He said that you guys think I’m special, and you- you said-“

“That we’re here for you.” He finishes, nonchalant.

“Right.” You breathe a little easier, knowing he knows what you’re talking about, words picking up steam. “I want you to know that it’s totally normal to feel this way. It happens a lot, you know. Patients and, or their family members, loved ones, they get attached. This affection starts to happen towards a member of the care team because we become that person who… provides care, twenty-four seven. So, you and… and Johnny, feeling like you have this attachment towards me, it’s very normal. Not a big deal.” You finish in one big breath, cutting your ramble short. His cheeks swell behind the fabric, like he’s smiling, eyes squinting again.

“That’s not what this is.” That’s not… what this is? What does that mean? 

“What?”

“Transference. That’s not what is happening here.”

“How do you…”

“I’ve had years of therapy.” He sighs. “Are you uncomfortable?” Say yes, the girl in your head screams. Tell him you need it all to stop. That you don’t like them, that it’s inappropriate. You know how this will end. 

“No.” You don’t know why you don’t acquiesce to your own good sense, why you ignore the very clear boundaries and rules that have kept you alive this long.

“Bunny, I need you tell me, honestly, if you are uncomfortable.” He levels you with an intense look, seriousness bleeding from his irises to yours. You press your palms flat on the table, quelling their trembling.

“It’s not… it’s not you. Or Johnny.” You whisper, eyes slipping shut. It’s easier that way, to just close them, to hide. To pretend you’re somewhere else, to block everything out.

What the fuck are you doing right now? Your brain screams, but your heart wails.

What is it like, to be loved like that? To be known like that? To be held in someone's heart, cherished and protected? 

“Sweetheart,” Simon’s voice is low, calming, and when you don’t answer, one of his hands folds over yours. “are you with me?”

“Yes.” You peek at him, and then fully let yourself look around, steadying the rancid fear that permeates through your body. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” He hums, hand still over yours. It’s warm, and broad, big thumb stroking a slow circle into your skin. “Is today your Friday?” You nod.

“It is, yeah. I’m… I’m looking forward to catching up on some sleep.” He straightens in the chair, shoulders and torso so unbelievably wide, like a long forgotten mythological god. Or the trunk of a massive tree.

“Will you have dinner with us, tonight?” The last of the orange red dawn spills over the crest of the buildings, and the world spins, cold sweat breaking out down your back. 

“What?”

“Dinner, with us. I’m picking up takeaway for Johnny from his favorite place as a celebration, for graduating the ICU. We’d love to spend some time with you. Get to know you, if that’s alright.”

“Oh, I…” Say no, you have to say no, shut this down. It’s too much risk. 

“No pressure. Just, hanging out, talking. As friends, if you like.” Butterflies thrash in your stomach so violently your knees bounce, and your heart leaps, pitching itself off a cliff like it wants to die.

“Okay.”

“Great. I can pick you u-“

“No! No, I’m fine. I have some errands to run after I get up for the day so, I’ll just meet you here.” It will be just like going to work. No harm, no foul. You can hang out with them, and go home, just like you’re at work. It doesn’t mean anything. It won’t. 

You barely sleep. You pace, you nap, you thumb through endless craigslist listings in faraway cities for apartments, you read. You take the long way through the city back to your flat and slowly sift through pieces of your life that you want to keep. Your quilt from home, that’s been tucked away on a shelf. A sentimental trinket that belonged to your mom, also hidden in a drawer. These things that can be removed, without being noticed.

Not that it matters.

He hasn’t been here. Not since the sick shit he pulled with your underwear. It makes you curious when you inspect the undisturbed tape on the back side of the door, the light dusting of baking powder on the bedroom carpet, but not surprised.

It’s not unlike him, to make himself known and then suddenly disappear, the endless mind games partially intentional, and partially something not even he can control.

After all, duty calls.

He could still be in the city. He could still be watching. You don’t know anything for sure.

“Three things you cannot outrun in this world, babe. Death, taxes, and… me.” You mumble it to yourself, the same words that live in your head, in his voice, repeated, pulling a pair of scrubs from your dresser.

But you had been running, and still had your life to show for it.

It doesn’t matter, you know how this will end. 

You’ve changed your clothes five times. You hem and haw in front of the mirror, trying not to look too closely at any one piece of yourself, switching shirt and pant combos until you finally settle on your usual, a pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt. They’re high waisted, because low rise is not even within the realm of possibility for your hips, and you appreciate how they fit, even if they may sit a little loose right now, given your recent stress levels.

You look fine, you decide. You look professional. You don’t really look attractive, in any way, but the scars on your torso are hidden, and with a little bit of make-up, you think you look presentable. At the very least, you don’t look like you’re half asleep, which is exactly how you feel.

Not like it matters, you chide. This isn’t a thing; it’s just hanging out. You’re going to put an end to this entire charade, tonight.

The train is quiet, and you’re extra watchful. Every face, every movement is logged, every jacket or hat or hood is inspected. Posture, skin tone, height, of every person you pass or see is tabulated and run through your mind. Your brain, a supercomputer in its own right, does it all, seamlessly. It wants to protect you, it keeps you on guard, it can look at a crowd of twenty people all facing the opposite direction and locate a potential threat, just by the shape of the shoulders.

You don’t see him, you don’t feel him, your skin doesn’t prickle, and you let the lack thereof bring you peace, if only for a few moments.

Johnny’s floor is bustling. You wave hi to those you know, checking in with his nurse for a moment, letting her know you’ll be hanging out for a bit. She doesn’t even bat an eye, thankfully, and you try to settle yourself as you turn down the hall.

You’re not prepared for what you find when you knock on his door and slide it open, breath catching for a moment, and you scramble to cover your initial balk.

Their daughter is here. She’s cuddled up on Johnny’s good side, the one without the burnt tissue or recovering surgical wound. She’s asleep, wearing a black onesie covered in skulls, her head tipped back and mouth open, chubby cheeks and sweet little face perfectly content. She’s got her entire fist wrapped around one of Johnny’s fingers, holding it right under her chin like she’s afraid he might vanish while her eyes are closed. “Hey, bun.” Johnny whispers, smiling so wide, two fingers stroking through the wispy curls on top of her head. “We snuck in a visitor tonight.”

“I see.” Your heart trembles.

“Fell asleep right away, next to her Da. Been missin’ him these past few nights.” Simon chuckles, patting Johnny’s leg gently, affectionately. There’s a bag of take out on the table behind him, as well as what looks like an overnight bag, a purple duffel stuffed full. “Price is on his way to pick her up.” Penny gurgles, eyes blinking open in a sleepy daze like she knew they were talking about her.

“Ye’re alright, sh-shh, wee lamb.” Johnny coos. She’s half soothed by his words, but the lights in the room are far too bright, and her small noises waver into a cry, frustrated and tired. He tries move her, cradler her higher up his chest, but his face falls with pain, and Simon swoops in, pulling her into his arms. “Bunny, could ye-“

“Would you-“ They both try to ask at once, and you flounder once you realize the intention, a cranky, sleepy Penelope being pushed into your arms.

“I-“ she wails, interrupting you, bending you to her will without fuss, and you hold her closer, rocking side to side, humming above her ear. Just like the NICU, like a patient, like your stint in L&D, it’s fine, it’s-

“Sorry, sweetheart.” Not fine. It’s not fine. Heat burns in your belly. He can’t call you that, not when you’re holding their baby. “Thank you.” Simon says over his shoulder. He’s moving Johnny, lowering the bed slightly to help reposition him, and they speak quietly to one another, voices low enough you can’t make out any of the words.

“I can help you with him, if you want.” He waves you off.

“I need the practice, won’t have you around all the time anymore, yeah? And once he gets home…”

“Ach. ‘m not paralyzed. Jus’ uncomfortable.” Johnny glowers, pouting, and you roll your eyes, rhythm steady, gently bouncing, letting Penny cuddle into your chest, snuggling her face against your arm and side. She’s beautiful, precious and sweet, cooing herself back into a light slumber, and you smile despite yourself, still rocking after her eyes start to shut. “Knew she’d like ye.” He says softly, and you glance up, surprised by the intensity of their focus, heavy gazes fixed on you.

“She’s very sweet.” Your lips twist.

“She is.” Simon agrees. “We were happy to get her some time with her Da. Good for both of ‘em.” His fingers find Johnny’s cheek, and then their hands meet, a palm pressed to lips, a whispered a I love you. 

An intimate moment, as you stand there with their baby in your arms.

“Alright, now that ye’ve done the hard work by gettin’ her back down,” Johnny gestures, urging you to step forward, and you carefully place her back in his arms. For a moment, your faces are level, and you get caught in his eyes, nerves strung so tight they could be a tightrope. “I’ve got her.” Weeks in the hospital, and he still smells like cedar and oranges, woodsy citrus that envelopes you, your lashes fluttering on the inhale. “She likes ye.” He murmurs, breath warm and tickling over your cheek.

“Well, she’s...” you straighten, hands smoothing down the front of your top. They’re moist, somehow, and you tuck them behind your back. “She’s a good judge of character, I guess.” Simon’s phone vibrates, Johnny’s plush smile turning dour, and he sighs.

“Okay baby girl. It’s time.” She cries a little, readjusting to Simon’s hold, and he slings the purple duffel over his shoulder, promising to be right back. Johnny nods, eyes downcast, and his face twists once the door shuts, cheeks turning red, staccato, hiccupped breaths coming fast.

“Hey.” You whisper. “Hey, Johnny.” The chair at his bedside creaks under you, and you lean forward, fingertips lightly caressing the tape residue that still sticks to his skin. You should clean that off. 

“’m alright.” His shoulders roll, chin jutting out, brilliant blue gleam in his eyes returning, like storm clouds rolling off after rain. He’s silent for a beat, pinky finger folding over yours. “How was yer day?”

“Oh, it was… fine.”

“Simon said ye were goin’ to catch up on some sleep?”

“Yeah, I didn’t.” You laugh, and he smiles. “I feel okay though. Still awake at least.”

“I’m glad… ye came. I’m sorry if the other night, I was too… forward.”

“That’s okay. You’re just… so flirty, I don’t even know what to do with myself.” You tease, expecting to get a lighthearted quip in response, or a laugh, but he gives you neither, only a serious, sympathetic expression.

“I didnae mean to make ye uncomfortable. Felt terrible, when ye ran off, I-“

“I’m fine, Johnny. You… you didn’t. I mean, it was just… confusing, this is… this is a lot.” He nods.

“I know it is.”

“And you don’t even know me.” His brow creases, focus narrowed in so tightly on you, white walls, white hospital blanket, white everything falling away in a spiral of color.

“I know ye better than ye might think." He cracks a smile. "We want to, if ye’d let us.” No, you don’t. You almost say it. Almost promise him that knowing you would be the stuff of their nightmares, that they have no idea what they’re trying to bite into, or bite off, a near guarantee that it would be than they could chew.

“Well, no harm in making new friends, right?” You entreat weakly, and his eyes flash, ethos of an entire life that you have no knowledge of slipping through, and the dark severity rumbling in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine.

“Aye, bun. Especially when they look like ye in a pair of jeans.” 

Dinner is an idyllic affair. Johnny’s favorite takeaway turns out, is Indian, like yours, and the three of you talk for hours, trading bites back and forth, laughing and listening to stories, discovering little bits and pieces about their lives while running interference on personal questions about yourself, allowing them to dip in skin deep, skimming off the top but never getting further. They tell you about themselves, Penelope, their jobs, how they met, and Johnny confides in you about his sketchbook collection, pages upon pages of charcoal and pencil line work, portraits of Simon and Pen covering each page, landscapes, and the occasional cartoon. Your spine eventually starts to wilt, muscles liquifying into goo that can barely hold you upright, and you curl up in the armchair, chin on your palm, listening to the ebb and flow of their voices as they tell you a particular story about how they came to find their current home, a near slapstick comedy about an interaction with the previous owner. Their voices soothe your restless mind, wrap you in a cozy embrace that feels so safe, so comfortable that you can’t fight the languid, siren call of sleep, eyes drooping into darkness, drifting away on their melodies, content and too tired to rationally put together what’s happening. At some point, something covers you up, knit warmth that is tucked in around your shoulders, your feet, a tender touch on your neck and cheek. A whisper of affection soothes the unease that lurks in the background of it all, and you fall into it lazily, farther into the hold of sleep, something your brain and body are desperate for.

When the lights go dim, you don’t even realize, already lost to the sand of slumber.

Around midnight, you wake with a start. Your heart is racing, triple timing in your chest, and you squint in the dark, trying to parse together where you are, what happened.

Oh no. Oh god, did you fall asleep on them? Did you fall asleep in Johnny’s room? 

Simon calls your name. He’s settled in a recliner, head turned your direction, mellow light from the little lamp spilling across his features. “Are you alright?” Your mouth is dry, the web of sleep that holds you in suspension finally starting to wane, fuzzy clouds in your head trying to clear without much luck.  

“How long was I out?”

“Four hours.”

“I’m so sorry.” He shakes his head.

“Wanted to let you sleep. I know you were tired, and Johnny was out almost immediately after you.”

“Th-thanks.” Your back groans, muscle and bone grinding together, stiff from sleeping in a cramped position for hours, and you’re surprisingly unsteady on your feet. Simon’s out of his chair in a second, turning around the end of Johnny’s bed to offer you a hand, his other lightly resting between your shoulder blades.

“Easy.”

“Sorry… just… think ‘m more tired than I realized.” It’s dark, and you’re disorientated, woozy, tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth, limbs and lids still heavy and desperate to fall back asleep.

“I’ll drive you home.” His keys jingle, and you know you should reject him, refute this presumption, push him off, but you can’t string the right words together in your mind, can’t bring yourself to truculently pull away.

So, you don’t. And to your surprise, your shock, it feels… nice. You let him open the door for you, get you settled, you listen to his music on the way, city flying past outside the window, quiet hour of the night crawling by. You let him help you out of the car when you pull up to the curb, and when he asks if he can walk you up, your rational pugnacity is nowhere to be found.

“This is me.” You gesture to the door, fumbling in your wallet for your keycard.

“How long have you been in the hotel?”

“Oh, not long. Reno just started so…” His head turns, surveilling the hallway. You’re in an end room, far from the elevator but close to the stairs, as requested, and there’s a camera that sits on the ceiling, green dot consistently blinking. He glances at it, then back to you, head tilted.

“Are you safe here?” The world goes cold. Your stomach roils, blood draining from your face, and you try to hold yourself steady, mind turning over a million times. You’re overreacting. He’s just asking in a general sense. He doesn’t know. He couldn’t. Breathe. Deep breath. 

“I uh, yeah. It’s got a deadbolt.” Along with a door stop alarm, and a security bar. He steps closer, so close that you can smell him, fresh laundry and musk, something spicy lingering there, something dark and enchanting.

“Are you in trouble, little bunny?” You’re in his shadow, beneath the stretch of a mountain, shielded by it, by a monolith so large it could blot out the sun. It overwhelms you, slows the racing pace of your mind, and you try to sort through the merry go round of feelings that are all trying to push their way out of your mouth.

You’ve never felt this. Never felt this… desire, to entrust someone with your life. Never felt this… attraction, this hold that the two of them have on you.

It makes you want to trust them. Makes you want to lay it all out and beg them to help you. Makes you want to close your eyes and leap, praying they’ll catch you.

It’s wicked. It’s dangerous. It’s a fool’s errand.

It’s unfair. 

“No.” You whisper. You can’t look at him, and time slows in the silence, your anxiety piquing. Of course, he would assume something is wrong, after witnessing the panic attack. Don’t read too far into it. 

“But you wouldn’t tell me if you were, would you?” He’s pragmatic, yet still kind, watching you with intent. It doesn’t allay any of the stress that’s building up the back of your throat and closing it, cutting you off from the oxygen you desperately need.

After an eon, he sighs.

“Okay, sweetheart. You can keep your secrets. For now.” You choke. 

“I… I should probably-“ you jerk your head towards the door, half turning away to swipe your keycard.

“Alright.” He moves carefully, dipping low, and you stand immobilized, confused and quivering as his cloth covered mouth presses a slow kiss to the top of your head. It’s like he’s bewitched you, cursed you, and you can’t do anything but stand there, stunned. “Thanks for coming tonight.” You’re a deer in headlights, a rabbit in a scope.

“Simon.” His name is the only thing you know right now, and it comes out reedy, almost a squeak.

“Get some rest. We’ll text you tomorrow.” He pushes the door wide, arm snaked behind your shoulders, and when you don’t move, he urges you forward, an encouraging hand on the small of your back. Your feet blindly stumble through the motions, searching for the light switch, for your sanity. “Goodnight, bun.” He hums, and the door clicks shut, leaving you alone, staring at the beige-yellow paint on the wall.

The afternoon trains are packed. It makes your skin crawl, not because you dislike busy or hectic places, but because there are too many eyes. You force your head to stay up, casually scrolling past the faces that are turned every which way, keeping your back to a corner or window as often as possible. You’re not sure you even needed to take this route, the one where you loop around and change trains twice, but… old habits die hard.

You’re lighter today, mentally. It’s in your steps on the stairs, the way you tilt your face up to the sun, how you bounce and bob a little along to the rhythm in your headphones.

You try not to read into it, too much. You tell yourself it has nothing to do with the good morning text messages from Johnny and Simon, or the hilarious back and forth between them after Simon sent a god-awful joke to the group chat. It has nothing to do with the heat that spreads through your fingers to toes when you think about Simon last night, kissing your forehead.

You slip inside your apartment, popping your headphones free, glancing at the tape and the door jam, before setting your bag on the counter. You idly sort through some mail you left out the other day. Junk, junk, junk, nothing taxing or important, nothing work related or-

A shadow moves. It flickers against the wall by your bedroom, growing larger, stalking closer to the kitchen, to where you stand, frozen, heart pounding in your ears. 

This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. 

“Hey there, sugar.” He croons, the thick, Texas accent unmistakable, and you breathe his name in horror.

“Phillip.”

[rosesareredrosa]

Love notes

Theo Nott x fem reader

Summary: Theo giving Love Notes to y/n in class

w/c: 1289

The dimly lit dungeon classroom buzzed with whispers as Professor Snape droned on about the intricacies of potion-making. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the room, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere. You were seated in your usual spot, diligently taking notes and trying to ignore the curious stares from your classmates. You had noticed the glances directed your way for the past few weeks, but the reason behind them remained a mystery.

A gentle tap on your shoulder drew you out of your concentration. You turned to see a small, folded piece of parchment on your desk. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the familiar, elegant handwriting: Theodore Nott. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, you unfolded the note.

Y/N, your beauty outshines even the brightest of potion ingredients. Meet me in the library after class?

A soft blush crept up your cheeks as you read the words. Theo had been sending you these notes for weeks now, each one more romantic than the last. You sneaked a glance at him, finding him already looking your way with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He smirked, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on you.

Pansy Parkinson, seated a few rows ahead, turned around and raised an eyebrow. "Another love note from Theo, Y/N?" she whispered loudly enough for several students to hear, causing a ripple of laughter to spread through the room.

Mattheo Riddle, sitting beside her, chuckled. "Merlin's beard, Theo, you're going to turn Y/N as red as a Gryffindor."

Lorenzo Berkshire, lounging lazily in his seat, grinned. "I'm surprised Professor Snape hasn't noticed all these notes flying around. Or maybe he has and just enjoys the entertainment."

Blaise Zabini, always composed, smirked from his seat next to Theo. "Our dear Theo does have a way with words, doesn't he?"

Draco Malfoy, leaning back with his characteristic smirk, added, "Careful, Y/N, or you'll start getting howlers from his fan club."

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile as the teasing continued. Theo, however, seemed unfazed. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, and watched you with an amused expression. "Let them tease, Y/N. They’re just jealous they don’t have someone as wonderful as you."

The blush deepened, and you bit your lip to hide your smile. Despite the teasing, you couldn’t deny the fluttering feeling in your chest every time you received one of Theo's notes. It was like a secret game between the two of you, a stolen moment in the chaos of Hogwarts life.

As the class ended and students began to pack up their belongings, you felt a gentle tug on your sleeve. Turning, you found Theo standing there, his eyes warm and inviting. "Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm.

With a nod, you slipped your hand into his, ignoring the wolf whistles and laughter from your friends. Together, you made your way to the library, where the shadows of the ancient bookshelves provided a perfect hiding spot for young love.

In the quiet corner of the library, Theo pulled you close, his eyes searching yours. "I meant every word, Y/N," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "You make even the darkest dungeon feel like home."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile. "And you make every note worth blushing over, Theo."

With a soft laugh, he leaned in and kissed you gently, sealing his promise with the sweet taste of young love. And in that moment, surrounded by the whispers of ancient magic and the teasing of friends, you knew that Theodore Nott was the one who made your heart sing.

As the weeks passed, Theo's love notes became an anticipated part of your daily routine. Each one was carefully crafted, a blend of poetry and genuine affection that made your heart race. Even amidst the relentless teasing from your friends, you couldn't help but look forward to the next note, the next glimpse into Theo's heart.

Love Note #1

Y/N,

Your smile is like a potion, intoxicating and sweet. Every time you laugh, it’s as if the sun has risen in the dungeons. Meet me by the Black Lake after dinner?

Yours, Theo

You glanced up from the note to find Theo watching you from across the Potions classroom. He gave you a small, almost imperceptible nod, and you couldn't help but blush as you imagined the quiet, secluded spot by the lake where the two of you could talk uninterrupted.

Love Note #2

Y/N,

The way your eyes light up when you talk about your favorite book is enchanting. I'd love to hear more. Shall we meet in the Astronomy Tower tonight?

With all my heart, Theo

The Astronomy Tower was a favorite spot of yours, a place where you could see the stars and feel like you were a part of something bigger. Theo knew this, and his suggestion filled you with a warm, comforting feeling. You looked forward to the serene evening that awaited.

Love Note #3

Y/N,

Every time I see you, it’s like my own personal Felix Felicis. I feel incredibly lucky to have you in my life. Can we take a walk in the Forbidden Forest this weekend?

Forever yours, Theo

The Forbidden Forest was mysterious and full of hidden secrets, much like Theo himself. The idea of exploring it with him was thrilling. You could already picture the two of you walking among the ancient trees, finding solace in each other's company.

Love Note #4

Y/N,

Your presence is a Patronus in my darkest times, chasing away all my fears. Would you join me for a late-night snack in the kitchens tonight?

Always, Theo

You chuckled at the thought of sneaking into the kitchens with Theo. The house-elves were always kind and eager to help, and the prospect of sharing a secret feast with Theo was too tempting to resist.

Love Note #5

Y/N,

Like the rarest of magical creatures, you are a wonder to behold. Your kindness and intelligence are unmatched. Let’s study together in the Room of Requirement tomorrow?

Yours eternally, Theo

The Room of Requirement, a place that adapted to your needs, was perfect for a quiet, intimate study session. You knew that with Theo by your side, even studying could become a cherished memory.

The constant flow of notes did not go unnoticed by your friends. They found endless amusement in your budding romance.

"Another one, Y/N?" Pansy asked, pretending to swoon. "Theo, you’re going to make the rest of us look bad!"

Mattheo smirked. "Yeah, seriously, Nott. How are we supposed to compete with that level of romance?"

Lorenzo grinned, nudging Draco. "We should take notes, Malfoy. Maybe then we’d have a chance."

Draco rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his smile. "Just wait until his fan club hears about this. They'll be devastated."

Despite the teasing, there was an underlying current of support and happiness for you both. Even Blaise, who was usually more reserved, gave you a knowing smile. "Looks like Theo's found his muse," he said quietly.

One evening, as you sat by the Black Lake with Theo, the gentle sound of water lapping at the shore, you turned to him and said, "You know, Theo, your notes mean the world to me."

He smiled, his eyes soft with affection. "I’m glad, Y/N. You mean the world to me."

And as the sun set over Hogwarts, casting a golden glow over the two of you, you realized that these moments, these notes, were just the beginning of a beautiful love story.

[enha-stars]

✧ thats enough, i think

pairing: enha!hyung line x fem!reader (mdni)

summary: you rarely act like a brat, but when you do, it always leads exactly where you want it too

warnings: brat tamer hyung line (YAS), jealousy, oral (f & m rec.), slight voyuerism, minor breath play (i think), unprotected sex, kissing

a/n: for my favourite, endearing brat @ak4e7a i hope i did this justice.

✧ heeseung;

“why the attitude, pretty? didn’t i fuck you hard enough earlier? or maybe you miss my mouth on you. is that it? need my tongue in you? wanna cum all over my face?”

the music is loud and the lights are dim, but not dim enough to hide the scene in front of you. you watch with hard eyes as the blonde gently trails her fingers across heeseung's arms.

he's not paying attention to her, probably doesn't even notice the way she's undressing him with her undeserving eyes, but you are. you stepped aside for a minute to grab some water and the blonde wasted no time.

you narrow your eyes when she gets bolder and places her hand on heeseung's forearm, turning her body fully towards him, ignoring jake's look of disdain. your eyes travel down her body before they drift to heeseung, waiting for him to push her hand off.

he doesn't.

he does, however, turn his head when he feels your stare on him. his lips lift into a smile when his eyes meet yours but you only scoff, rolling your eyes at him. his smile twists into a frown and his eyes sharpen.

instead of going back, since he seemed so interested in the conversation, you simply turn your head and walk towards jay and sunghoon.

you can feel his eyes on you but you ignore them, purposely standing closer to sunghoon than you normally would. if heeseung could let someone touch him, then you could too.

you talk to sunghoon and jay, laughing about something niki did when you feel it. his presence is overwhelming and you would know him by smell alone. so when heeseung walks to you, you know it's him before his chest presses into your back.

his hand is on your waist and he's holding a water bottle in his other hand as he smiles at his friends, seemingly calm as he joins the conversation. your back is rigid but you don't lean away from his touch.

"why didn't you come back to me, pretty?" heeseung whispers in your ear, his breath warm.

you scoff and turn your head, crossing your arms. "why would i want to interrupt your conversation with the handsy blonde?"

heeseung smiles in a way that isn't really a smile and gently grabs your chin, making you face him. "what are you talking about?"

you jerk your chin out of his hold and step away from him, missing his heat instantly. sunghoon and jay have stepped away from you both and now you and heeseung stand in the middle of the party, music and sweaty bodies surrounding you.

"since you were having so much fun with little miss blonde over there, you can go right back. i'll go find someone else who'll entertain me."

heeseung turns to face you, a smirk on his lips at the sight of your narrowed eyes and crossed arms. he liked you like this, all bratty and annoying. but he didn't like what you were implying. didn't you know that he belonged to you?

instead of answering you, he steps towards you and you instinctually dropped your arms, fingers pulsing. you wanted to grab his shoulders, wrap your arms around him, but you were still annoyed with him.

he smiles softly at you but you see the fire in his eyes, the only hint of his actual feelings. he gently grabs your hand and laces your fingers together. you don't have enough time to pull away before he's guiding you through the crowd, easily steering your body at will.

he pushes the washroom door open and pulls you inside, slamming the door shut and locking it within seconds. your pressed against the wall as he stares down at you, grinning at your flustered expression. he presses himself closer to you, bringing his hands on either side of your head as he leans down.

"why the attitude, pretty? jealous of that girl, is that it?" his breath tickles your cheek and he kisses it softly. "scoffing at me and rolling your eyes as if i didn't fuck you in the car."

your breathing heavily and you can't look away from his eyes. they're shiny and dark and so hot. his words make you shiver and you squeeze your thighs together.

his smile turns menacing as he sinks to his knees, his hands sliding down the wall. he keeps his face close to your body, nose and chin hovering against your skin.

with his face hovering near your heat, you naturally spread your legs and he grins at you. "wonder if i can still taste my cum on your pussy," he whispers.

he doesn't even lift your skirt as he presses his nose against your cunt, breathing in deeply. you whimper and arch your back, hand immediately grabbing his hair.

"still smells like me," he says before he hooks his finger under your panties and pulls them down. he doesn't even warm you when he licks at you harshly, eyes on your face.

you pull at his hair as your knees buckle. "hee, oh my gosh."

"where's that attitude, pretty girl? still wanna find someone else?"

you shake your head and he presses a soft kiss to your clit. "cum on my face to show that blonde and everyone else who i belong to."

he wastes no time as he uses his fingers to spread your folds only to shove his tongue deep within you. he's sucking and licking and you can't breathe.

his fingers rub your bud as his tongue assaults your clit, pushing in and out of you as he laps up all your juices.

just as you're about to reach your limit, he moves his head back and his tongue messily slips out of you, string of saliva and slick shining under the bathroom light.

you whine and stare down at him with watery eyes. he just smiles at you and kisses your inner thigh.

"next time you act like a brat, i'll fuck you in front of everyone and won't let you cum even once."

✧ jay;

“you know i adore you, angel, but when you don’t listen to me… it makes me want to shove my cock down your throat. can’t be bratty when you can’t really breathe, can you?”

familiar dialogue fills the room as the quiet sounds of chewing can be heard from around you. you're pressed against jay's side with his arm hugging you close. your calves rest in jake's lap and he uses them as a stand for his popcorn.

you stare at the tv screen with little interest. it was sunghoon's turn for movie night and of course, he chose a superhero movie. one you all had seen many times.

jay had smiled at your exasperated smile and softly kissed your head when you simply just held your tongue and snuggled with him.

trying to stimulate your brain, you glanced at the other sofa and smiled at the sight of sunghoon's head in heeseung's lap. he would never beat the soft allegations and you made a mental note to tease him about it later.

you sighed deeply and jay's gaze flickered down, smiling softly at your wandering eyes. he just watched you as you looked at different things, eyes briefly trailing back to the movie every few seconds.

he rubbed your arm and you smiled, looking up at him. he tilted his head down and bumped his nose against yours before giving the tv his attention. you internally sighed, finding it amazing that all four of them could rewatch the same movie hundreds of times.

you tried to pay attention to the action happening on screen but it wasn't new, and therefore, was incredibly boring. you tightened your hold on jay's lower abdomen and he shifted slightly when you slipped your thumb under his shirt.

at his movement, you smiled as realization set in. you slowly rubbed circles into his skin, testing the waters. when he said nothing, you let your hand trail lower until your fingers brushed the bulge under his sweats, glad you weren't sharing a blanket with jake.

he squeezed your arm once in warning but you simply rested your hand on his bulge, pressing down. jay bit his bottom lip to muffle the hiss that almost escaped him.

he looked down at you sharply but your eyes were on the movie. his hand trails up your arm until its in your hair and he lightly pulls up, forcing you to look at him. at the pain, you almost grin.

"quit it," he mumbles, eyes ablaze.

you ignore his words and do nothing for a few minutes. thinking better of you, jay releases your hair and rests his hand back on your arm.

simply having your hand on his cock with all his friends around is making your head spin and suddenly, you need to do something. after a few more minutes, you begin rubbing your hand back and forth over his sweats, smiling when he hardens under you instantly.

he flexes his thighs and his grip on your arm tightens as he grits his teeth together. he can't do anything or say anything because jake is right there and if he moves, he's afraid the blanket will slip off. he tilts his head down until his lips are touching your ears. "stop it," he grits out.

you don't stop.

with his free hand, he grabs your wrist under the blanket and brings it to his chest, keeping it there. his grip is tight but not enough to hurt you. you lift the arm that was between his lower back and sofa and slip it under his shirt, nails slightly scratching the skin.

knowing he couldn't do anything, he simply lets you touch his back. when your hand slips below the waist of his sweatpants and closer to his ass, he clenches his teeth together so hard they might crack.

thankfully, the film finishes and jake, sunghoon, and heeseung leave after they pick up all the trash. neither you or jay move as per tradition, since the rule is that they clean up if you provide the snacks.

once they door clicks shut, jay throws the blanket off you both and shifts his body upwards as he pushes your shoulders down. now, your head is against the arm rest as the rest of your body is on the couch. one of his legs is on the floor and the other is fitted between your body and the sofa.

he stares down at your with hard eyes and a clenched jaw. you're grinning up at him and he scoffs. you're in between his legs and you seem incredibly pleased about it. he doesn't waste a second before he cups your jaw and leans closer.

"you know i adore you, angel." he waits for you to nod. "but when you don't listen to me... it makes me crazy."

you have the audacity to pretend to frown. "sorry, baby. but the movie was so boring and i couldn't help myself."

jay kisses his teeth as he pulls the waistband of his sweats and boxers down. he watches you as you stare at his cock, a look of need in your eyes. "you think that means you can't listen to me?"

you try to answer but he thrusts his cock into your mouth. it hits the back of your throat and you gag, eyes immediately watering. he's so big and tastes so good.

"i don't wanna hear anything from you," he mutters as he rocks his hips back and forth harshly. "such a brat."

you open your mouth further and use your tongue, trying your best to fit him. your eyes are blown wide and jay can't help but roll his eyes at your sounds and drool.

"look at you," he cooes. "you can brealy breathe, angel."

you don't really hear him, too busy having your mouth fucked. you can taste his precum and it's enticing. you open your eyes and catch jay's harsh gaze. his tip hits the back of your throat and you can't really breathe.

"good," he says, smiling. "can't be a brat when you can't breathe, can you?"

✧ jake;

“if you wanted my attention so bad, baby, you could have just asked. you know i’d give you anything. what do you want? to be fucked silly?”

the lights in the living room are dim as some old episode plays on the tv, forgotten and boring. you sigh to yourself as you stare at the ceiling, blinking when a commercial interrupts the pleasant background noise.

you turn your head and eye the bedroom door when you hear jake's loud laughter. a smile naturally lifts onto your lips but it's quickly replaced by a frown.

jake had promised you that he would only game for a bit, but it had been two hours and you were annoyed. you wanted him to play with his friends but you were growing tired. you finally had some time to spend with him tonight and he chose to game the night away.

you turn to face the tv and try to pay attention to the plot and characters but all you want is your boyfriend. suddenly feeling chilly, you pushed yourself off the couch and trudged to the bedroom to grab a blanket.

you quietly push open the bedroom door and your eyes immediately land on jake's hunched figure, the blue light washing over him prettily as his fingers move rapidly against the keyboard.

jake sees your figure in the reflection of his screen and turns his head, smiling widely at you before turning back to the monitor. "hi, baby."

you don't respond to him and walk to your bed, grabbing your blanket. at your lack of response, jake mutes his mic and turns his head again, frowning. "what's wrong, baby?"

you shake your head. "nothing," you mutter. you almost throw him a pointed look but decide against it.

"come sit with me, baby. you know you're my good luck charm."

you scoff and jake raises an eyebrow, surprised at your attitude. "i don't want to sit with you. be your own good luck charm."

at your words, jake's eyes widen and his frown deepens. "excuse me?"

you stare at him with narrowed eyes and grip your blanket tighter. "you heard me. play your stupid games all night, i don't care."

you really did care, but you were annoyed and his friends were screaming at him through his headphones. you don't wait for a response and throw the bedroom door open, slamming it shut to prove a point.

you're not sure what point you're trying to prove, but it feels good.

you throw the blanket on the couch and make your way to the kitchen, suddenly hungry.

jake stares at the door with a dumbfounded expression, not quite believing that you had both rejected him and slammed the door shut. slowly, he turns back around but your words are replaying in his mind and he can't stop hearing your scoff.

he unmutes his mic and teels heeseung that he's not playing anymore, leaving the game before anyone could say otherwise. he throws his headphones to the side and pulls open the bedroom door.

he steps out of the bedroom, expecting you to be on the couch but you're in the kitchen. your back is to him and he just stares at you for a while, the sight of you in only panties and his hoodie is enough to have his mind reeling.

"baby," he calls out. your back stiffens and you stop cutting the apple. "wanna watch a movie?"

he's testing the waters, trying to understand your behaviour. he has a feeling he knows, but it never hurts to check.

"no," you respond, without turning. "i'm good. go back to gaming." you do want watch a movie with him, hell, you just want him. but you refuse to give in instantly. he made you wait, so he should too.

jake grins widely before shaking his head at you, slowly walking towards the kitchen. you can hear him getting closer but you don't move, focusing on the fruit salad you had started.

jake wraps his arms around your waist and presses his chest to your back, smiling when you stiffen. you don't move for a few second before you go back to cutting, putting in all your effort in ignoring him.

"watch a movie with me."

"no," you murmur. jake kisses the back of your neck and you shiver, his breath warm.

"you trying to ignore me?"

you say nothing and he laughs softly against your neck, pressing his hips into yours until his clothed dick lines up with your ass. he rotates his hips softly and you drop the knife.

"if you wanted my attention so bad, baby, you could have just asked." he presses further into you and you whimper, gripping the counter. "instead, you deny me and slam the door in my face."

his lips are hovering your neck and he whispers the words against your skin, making your entire body go hot. he grinds against you a bit more before he kisses your shoulder.

"i guess i should pay more attention to my little baby." he takes his cock out of his shorts and pulls your panties to the side, thrusting into you without warning.

you moan at the feeling, head falling back as your grip on the counter tightens. he pushes himself deep within you before pulling out completely. you mewl at the emptiness but then he grips your waist and slides back in, pushing you into the counter.

"fuck, baby, so tight."

he fucks you harshly, grip on your waist tight as you moan and whimper. he sucks on your neck as his balls slap your ass. your pussy clenches around him and your eyes water.

"jake," you say, breathless.

your orgasm is close and you push your ass against him, trying to reach your high when suddenly, jake stops moving. you cry out, the build up slowly dissipating. your eyes are watery and you're mumbling incoherent things.

jay kisses your shoulder as he grips your hips, stopping you from trying to reach your high.

"weren't you trying to ignore me, baby?" he smiles wickedly when you whine his name. "rude little brats don't get to cum, baby."

✧ sunghoon;

“you’re really pretty, bunny. but you’re even prettier when you’re being fucked. that’s it, lay back for me. this is all you wanted, isn’t it? some cock to keep you calm.”

soft music plays from your laptop as you stare hard at your phone, a frown on your lips. you stare at sunghoon's contact picture, hoping it would magically entice a response from him.

you sent your texts almost twenty minutes ago and there was still no response. annoyed, you toss your phone to the other side of the bed. you stare at the teddy bear that sits beside you on the bed, huffing.

you're not sure what it was, but you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. not literally, since sunghoon's grip on your waist was strong, but metaphorically.

you woke up in a bad mood which only worsened when sunghoon, instead of showering you in attention and love, decided to head over to jay's place for lunch.

your behaviour in the morning pissed him off and he fucked it out of you, but it was back and he wasn't here. he had hoped that fucking his cum into you before he left would be enough to keep you pleased but it hadn't.

so, you sent him a few nudes and risky texts to entice him. despite his angry texts telling you to 'behave' and 'fucking stop,' you couldn't help yourself.

the last text you sent had been an impulse decision. you knew that texting him 'since you're not here, i'll just touch myself' wouldn't necessarily sit with him well, but if you were going to be a brat, you might as well do it right.

you obviously don't touch yourself, knowing that your own hands had become useless. you needed him, and until you had him, you wouldn't be pleased.

you reach for your phone and begin scrolling, ignoring the chill. you had worn his favourite white lingerie set simply for the fun of it, but it didn't do much to hide you from the cold.

you're so invested in scrolling that you don't hear the apartment door open. you don't hear the deep breathing or the heavy footsteps. when your bedroom door clicks open, you glance up before looking back at your phone, only to look back at the door with wide eyes.

sunghoon stands in the doorway, breathing lowly. he's staring at you with such sharp eyes, gaze trailing the length of your body like a predator sizing up a prey.

you drop your phone and stare at him, eyes wide as he steals all the air in the room. you look like a deer caught between between a lion and a hard place, and it makes you shiver.

"hoon," you whisper. "what are you doing here?"

sunghoon smiles and it makes you squeeze your thighs together. it's dangerous, the way it curves up and reveals his fangs. his eyes are wild and his hair even more so.

slowly, he walks towards the bed and begins unbuttoning his shirt. he has yet to say anything and you can already feel your voice disappearing.

"you think you can act like a fucking brat and i won't come fuck it out of you?"

his voice is deep and it makes you want to cry. he's angry, you realize. angry, and slightly pissed off, but incredibly turned on.

trying to do some damage control, you shake your head, eyes on his pretty hands as he undoes the last few buttons of his shirt. "i'm sorry," you try. "i just missed you."

instead of responding, he shrugs off his shirt and tosses it. you eye his chest and neck and your cheeks heat up at the marks you had left behind not even two hours ago.

sunghoon says nothing as he stands at the edge of the bed and grabs your ankles, easily pulling you towards him. you squeal and grab the bedsheets, eyes wide.

he's looking down at you with purely dark eyes but then he smiles. "do you know how badly i wanted to shove my cock down your throat when you sent me all those texts?" he begins to unbutton his pants as he fits himself between your legs.

"i'm sorry."

"don't care," he grins devilishly. "you need to be taught a fucking lesson."

he pulls his pants and boxers down and steps out of them, taking his time. you can't stop staring at his hard cock as it slaps his stomach, leaking all prettily over your legs.

he doesn't say anything when he lifts your hips off the bed and pushes his cock into you, hissing as your pussy sucks him in.

you moan out his name when his thrusts quicken, slamming into you at an unforgiving pace. your blabbering and breathing heavily and he grins down at you, but there's nothing soft in it.

"you're really pretty, bunny," he says, "wearing my favourite set." his grip on your hips tighten and he leans down a bit. "but you're even prettier like this."

still fucking into you, he sets your hips back on the mattress and pushes you further on the bed, crawling between your legs.

he leans down and places a hand on either side of your head, kissing your cheek. "this is what my dumb little bunny needed, isn't it? my cock to keep you calm?"

you can't answer him, too obsessed with the feeling of his dick hitting your cervix. sunghoon smirks at the fucked out look in your eyes, his anger and frustration slowly lessening and igniting.

he feels your pussy clench around him and he waits until the last second, until your crying and legs are shaking to pull out. you wail at the loss and cling to his shoulders, a bubbling mess.

"hoon, hoon, please." you beg, tears spilling down your cheeks.

he presses a soft kiss to your lips and bites your bottom lip. "only a good bunny gets to cum. and you," he smiles, "haven't been good."

taglist: @karinasbaby @pprodsuga @jaeyunluvr @moon7jay @lheebra

[tiny-space-platypus]

Part 4 Miscommunication

(Damien's POV)

Previous

School had started now and a new kid came to the academy today. A girl roughly his age but a little shorter. This girl was loud and obnoxious, gathering quite a crowd of friends on her first day. That was fine though, Damian didn't exactly want to have to talk to another brainless civilian. Though Grayson did say he needed to make more friends. Explaining that not having friends would blow his cover.

Before Damian decided what to do the girl who was just with a group of his classmates was now behind him, startling him. Startling Him. Damian had been trained by assassins, by his mother, father, and siblings to always be acutely aware of his surroundings yet this girl scared him? Damian needed to understand how.

The girl who introduced herself as Dani Nightingale giggled.

Damian: "You startled me"

Dani: "yeah I do that"

Their classmates are cheering no one has ever managed to sneak up on Damian and now this new girl has. Great this girl was now going to be another nuisance to him. Then the girl frowned at him and apologized softly before avoiding him for the rest of the day. Odd.

Damian also found that this girl was very smart. She was great at science, math, and knew so many languages that it was just impressive. She was odd.

Dani avoided Damian for the rest of the day. She fucked up, she fucked up big time, even if he doesn't show it she can still feel his emotions. She wants to fall in for the floor and disappear but she can't do that. So instead she decided to focus on the school day. Answering and doing as much as she can to avoid Damian. The boy she accidentally made hate her. She can't wait for today to be over. The end of the day rolled around and Danny was there to pick her up. Just as she ran up to Danny, Damian did the same. Damian got to Danny first.

Damian: "Todd, what are you doing here?"

Dani running into Danny and giving him a massive hug. "Danny!"

Danny (confused) "sorry kid, but I'm not whoever Todd is?"

Damian now also confused and looking closely at Danny because his brother was laughing and smiling and not normal. Then he looked at the scars on the man's arms and neck and mannerisms. That wasn't Jason but just looked like him, odd.

Dick and Tim now confused that Damian didn't come to the car, walk over and react the same way Damian did though more extreme. "Jason??"

Danny (sighing): "No my name's Danny. Nice to meet you" (looks at Tim) "or re-meet you, how was your debate thing or whatever? I assume that was why you were in a suit?"

Tim (confused before remembering the coffee shop) "oh! Um yeah everything went well"

Dick smiling while internally screaming about seeing someone who looked like a happy version of his brother. "It's nice to meet you too"

Both Nightingales feeling the turmoil and odd feeling from the 3 and decided. Nope! Not my circus not my monkeys even if he does maybe look like he belongs to that circus. Not his, nope, they have enough problems, whatever this family has is not also his.

Danny: "anyways we've got to go, I'm sure we'll see you around"

Danny left with Dani and went home with her neither aware of the tracker Damian had left on Dani.

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

Danny and Elle having a normal night doing homework, having dinner together, all that jazz while being watched by Robin and RR who had now taken a special in this family. Especially after Tim could find almost nothing on any of the Nightingales past a few months ago when they came to Gotham or when their sister went to Stanford. They watch Danny put Elle to bed then begin tinkering with a side project (he is an engineer after all). They seemed normal but something still bugged the both of them about the Nightingales. Something was still off, they'd have to keep investigat- Danny pulled out the 2 trackers that were were placed on both him and Elle and sat them on the table in front of him. He knew about the trackers. Maybe he was a threat.

Danny had of course found the tracker on him immediately and decided to fuck around making it go absolutely everywhere far too quickly till he realized where the tracker was from. It was shaped as a bat of course it came from Batman and his spawn. SIGH he supposed he couldn't avoid the bats and birds if they were already tailing him, might as well try to make friends first. The fact that they were looking for them was only solidified when he found another on Elle's school bag. 1) how dare they put one on his little sister. 2) who the hell put it there?? Was it suit boy again? Or was it one of the others? He'd have to tell Elle to be careful around them from now on. He'll have to be more careful now. Welp might as well try to reverse engineer these trackers so he can make something to scramble them when those guys eventually try again. He and to at least protect Elle.

(Things I thought of but didn't know how to add it yet soo)

Dani goes by both Dani and Elle depending on if her brother is around. Its confusing when they're both being refused to as Danny after all.

Tim is going feral because he can't find anything on them, like they didn't exist before this summer.

Oracle is also going insane because her cameras can't pick the two up. Every time she tries to focus on them the camera feed glitches out till they're gone.

The next part will be about Jason getting caught with GIW because they think it's Danny (and Elle maybe.) Still writing.

Next

[obsessedwithceleste]

The Slytherin Boys

As Soulmate Tropes

Ft. Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, and Lorenzo Berkshire

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Mattheo Riddle

The timer

Everyone has a timer on their wrist that counts down to the second you meet your soulmate

Matteo thinks it’s utter bullshit

He’s not really one to be told what to do

Especially not by something as silly as fate

Before he even begins at Hogwarts, he wraps his wrist in a leather cuff, never taking it off

A soulmate is only a weakness after all

Like his father said

When he finally makes his first friend, Theodore Nott, on the train to Hogwarts, the boy looks at his wrist curiously, but says nothing

The boy’s own timer reads something a bit over six years

He meets others, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, all displaying their timers proudly out in the open

He would never want to be that vulnerable

Of course he’s tempted to look when he sees Lorenzo Berkshire’s timer run out in first year when they’re sorted into Slytherin with Daphne Greengrass

Still he doesn’t look

Over the years he watches his friends’ timers run out as they each meet their soulmate until it’s just him and Theodore left.

“You’ve really not looked?” Theo asks him one night as they share a smoke up in the astronomy tower

Matteo shakes his head no

It’s not until a bit over a year later when Theo’s timer runs out as he quite literally runs into his soulmate that Matteo even considers taking a small peak

That night, he lay in bed, eyes boring into the ceiling

Ever so slowly, his fingers wrap around the cuff, inching it off agonizingly

When he finally sees his timer, he blinks

00:00:00

He’d missed them

His head falls back against his pillow as the leather cuff returns to its place, securely around his wrist

He’d never wanted a soulmate anyway, he reasoned with himself

What he didn’t know, was he’d also missed all the stolen glances at him since third year

He makes it through four more sleepless nights before he tears the cuff off, throwing it against the wall, alarming Theo

“I missed them. I fucking missed them.” He says, staring blankly at the wall as Theo looks at his friend sadly

About a week later, it finally goes noticed that the leather cuff is gone

Matteo is sitting in the grass by the Black Lake when they approach

“They stopped sometime in third year. You bumped into me walking off the quidditch pitch.”

Matteo looks up, mouth gaping open as he takes in his soulmate for the first time

“Sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. Figured you didn’t want to know with the whole cuff thing and all.”

It takes him a moment to reply, but once he does, he will not stop apologizing

He looks at his soulmate as if they painted the sun in the sky

It’s slow going at first, Matteo never really believed in love

But once he’s in, he’s in deep

His friends are all shocked of course, but more so relieved that Matteo finally had someone that really clicked

Matteo never wanted a soulmate, but he’d be damned if his was ever torn away from him

Theodore Nott

First Words

The first words one said to their soulmate are permanently scrawled across their other half’s skin

No matter how much someone tried, the words wouldn’t budge

Couldn’t be removed, couldn’t be changed, couldn’t be covered by anything other than clothing

Theo knew

He’d tried

“Fuck off, Nott”

Was permanently brandished across his collarbone

His mother had gasped when she saw it, rushing to cover the words

The epitome of romance Theo had thought dryly to himself on more than one occasion

He told himself he didn’t care

Maybe there was a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why his soulmate wanted him to fuck off despite never speaking to him before

He never let another soul see those words though

Not even when his friends went around, proudly showing off their own words

He didn’t believe in that shit, he’d told them

But it was hard not to believe it in third year when Matteo finally spoke to Daphne’s sister, Astoria, for the first time

Their words matched perfectly

And so did they

In his fourth year, Matteo finally discovered the blasted words after Theo ended up in the hospital wing

He was made fun of ruthlessly for the next several weeks

Not even his soulmate- as a stranger wanted anything to do with him

Maybe that was why, at fifteen, he began his flirtatious escapades

Flirting with anything really, that had a pulse

If his soulmate didn’t want him, surely someone else did

And that’s how he found himself where he was now

Leaning up against the cold stone wall, a comfortable buzz setting in from the drink in his hand as he chatted up some Ravenclaw

He was about to lean in when a hand appeared on his shoulder, pulling him back roughly

“Fuck off, Nott.” The voice said, a hint of agitation in their voice

Theo’s head snapped in the direction of the voice, eyes widening and mind suddenly alarmingly clear

He felt his heart beat speed up as he took in the sight

A moment passes, then two

Blinking, he tried to think of something- anything to say

“Salazar, you’re perfect.”

Fuck.

Theo watched the hairs on his soulmate’s neck prickle as they freeze, eyes slowly meeting his own

“That’s not funny Nott. Who told you to say that?” They ask warily as their friend watches in amused excitement

Tugging at the collar of his shirt, Theo finally shows his words, the black script bold against his tan skin

Theo had always wanted

Theo had always wanted to be wanted

And Theo’s soulmate made sure he always knew just how wanted he was

Draco Malfoy

Hot and Cold

Draco remembered the first time his mother explained the soulmate stuff to him

He was only five when she tucked him into bed and explained

The closer you were to your soulmate, the hotter you felt

The further you were, the colder you felt

But once you were together, everything would feel right

Simple enough his young self had figured

Almost like a game of sorts

A game of fate

He always thought it was strange that his mother was constantly shivering despite his fathers tendency to run quite warm

They must prefer it that way

He himself however, grew up always a bit too cold for his liking

It was early on that he learned to bundle up in layers

His mother cast especially nice warming charms

As he grew older, it confused Draco that his parents ran at two very opposite temperatures, despite his mother’s words echoing in the back of his head

The whole soulmate thing must not be that perfect if “just right” meant one parent felt like a block of ice while the other was practically slick with sweat

He didn’t really understand until the summer before he was to leave for Hogwarts

That’s when his parents hosted a small going away gathering

His cousin Enzo was there

As were the Greengrass sisters

Draco watched Enzo begin to grow agitated, sweat beginning to form on his brow

When the boy looked up to see the older Greengrass sister though, it was as if a wave of calm had washed over him

The heat in his cousin’s cheeks faded as he made his way over to the girl

That’s when Draco finally realized

It didn’t go unnoticed by him then, when his father’s normally warm aura cooled considerably to a suspiciously comfortable level when the Nott family arrived

It was then that Draco determined that soulmates only lead to heartbreak

What was the point of it didn’t guarantee happiness?

Draco was on the train, surrounded by his friends when he first felt it

A small spark of heat, flaring up in his chest

He ignored it

He felt it again at the sorting ceremony, quickly rushing to sit with his new house mates

For once hoping to blend in

The dungeons of the Slytherin common room felt safe

The cool air of the stone walls enveloping him

Every so often, Draco felt a familiar warmth begin to overtake him, subconsciously leading him towards it

But he always did his best to fight it off

Lately however, the tingling feeling of warmth seemed to be chasing after him

Almost as if whoever was causing it was actively searching him out

Draco was sitting in the Three Broomsticks, butter beer in hand when it finally happened

He felt the heat wave first

Then the beads of sweat slowly forming on his head

His eyes flicked about frantically as his friends watched him with concern

When his eyes finally landed on the culprit, he knew

A wave of cool ran over him and for the first time in his life, Draco wasn’t shivering against a sweater, or sweating like a mad man

He felt

Right

“Hi.” He says, dazed as he stares at his soulmate in awe

Lorenzo Berkshire

The Red Strings of Fate

Enzo couldn’t remember a time when he couldn’t see the red strings twisting, knotting, winding around everyone he knew

They always started out the same

Tied in a neat bow around someone’s pinky before looping off into the distance

Occasionally, he’d see two people, their strings meeting, tying them together

Theirs always had a mesmerizing gold sheen

It fascinated him

His own parents’ strings trailed off in opposite directions

Not that he’d ever say anything about it

He knew there were others like him

People who could see the strings

Advertising their love matching services

Always able to tell if people were compatible or not

Enzo never said a word

At Hogwarts, Enzo often heard the Slytherin girls chatter about how romantic the idea was

Having a soulmate out there, tied to you forever

Enzo smiled, knowing that Pansy’s string was connected to one Blaise Zabini

And Astoria’s string lead to Matteo Riddle

In second year, he’d let out an unattractive snort, seeing his cousin Draco’s string connect to Hermione Granger

He’d almost let it slip right then and there

But still, he kept quiet, subtly leading his friends in the right direction

Even if it meant “accidentally” locking Draco and Hermione in the potions storeroom without their wands

It wasn’t until much later that Enzo realized he’d never really paid all that much attention to the string tied to his own finger

What if they didn’t believe in the strings?

What if they didn’t want to be found?

One night, when his dorm mates were asleep

He tugged on the red string, feeling the taunt pull on the other end

He didn’t really expect much

He’d seen people’s strings lead off over the horizon, end no where in sight

He knew it was totally plausible to never see his soulmate

But it would be nice

Sometimes at night, when his roommates were all asleep and he was still wide awake, he’d roam the halls, following the string

It always seemed to take him the same way, up the winding staircases until he found himself outside an ever familiar common room door

He wasn’t stupid

He knew his soulmate had to be in there, but still, he never searched beyond those quiet nights, the portraits on the walls looking on silently

It all changes though, the day he feels his pinky finger tug a bit as a stranger sits down next to him in potions

“You don’t mind, do you?” The breathy voice asks

Enzo is too busy staring at the string connecting their fingers, a familiar golden sheen glimmering between them, to answer

When he looks up, he finds pretty eyes looking back, a small smile tugging on pink lips

“The portraits are quite chatty you know. I wondered if you’d try to come find me, but figured it was best to take matters into my own hands.”

A soft blush rises to his cheeks as he looks sheepishly at his soulmate

“So should I lock us in a storage room without our wands now? Or can we skip that step?”

Enzo lets out bark of laughter before quickly getting a hold of himself

After years of following other people’s strings, he was glad someone had followed their string to him

[lqveharrington]

Silver Roses & Fallen Snow

PROLOGUE (masterlist for series)

summary: You and Coriolanus Snow having been dating, but your father disapproves of it, leading to an Ultimatum. Will the deal be secured? Or will the 10th Annual Hunger Games ruin it all?

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: (proof read once !!) mentions of death, you and Coriolanus being oblivious, fluff, twinge of jealousy, angst, italics are flashbacks, (let me know if i missed any !!)

word count: 2k +

a/n: it’s been too long since i’ve written something. let’s hope this series does well :)

You and Coriolanus were given an ultimatum. Well, more like Coriolanus was given an ultimatum.

Ever since you were born, your father and mother wanted the best for you. Especially your father. Being born in a family belonging to the Capitol, you were already lucky, in a way. You were essentially being given everything on a silver platter. However, you were always in an optimistic mindset, even when the first Rebellion started. Your mother was the one keeping your family happy and looking on the bright side, but when she died during the Rebellion, your father completely shut the world out, including his own daughter. When the world returned to a sort of functionality, the first Hunger Games started up. As an eight-year-old with no mother, you relied on yourself and the help your father hired around the manor. Heading to school, you walked with your caretaker and occasionally the Snows joined you.

Your family used to be close with the Snow family. You remember them coming over for dinner parties and playing with their only son, Coriolanus Snow. It wasn’t until your father heard about what happened to them in the war he left them behind as the Capitol built up again. You, of course, always stood by the Snows. You visited them as much as possible growing up and when you reached Academy, you and Coriolanus became closer than ever.

“What are you doing, Coryo?” You ask, chin propped on his shoulder.

He smiled at you, “I’m trying to write my paper for English, but you are so distracting.”

You frown jokingly, “Sucks for you, I finished mine already.”

“Nice to know.” He murmured as he scribbled down a few more sentences.

You watched him for a bit before getting up, walking out of his room to find his cousin. You were always interested in her amazing skill for clothing, but another thing was on your mind at the moment.

“Tigris?” You call out, finding her sitting at the table at the front. She hummed in response, carefully hand sewing a beautiful dress. “I need advice.”

“About?”

“Well…” You take a seat across from her. “You’re a senior, right?”

“Mhm.” She pulled her dress up, looking a bit closer. You watch her focus shift from the dress to you after she placed her materials down. “What’s up?”

“You’ve like, you know… Dated someone… Right?”

“Where are we going with this conversation?” Tigris rested her head in her hands, watching your face redden. “Maybe I know where this is going. Do you like him?”

You flushed and looked down at the table. “Him who?”

“Don’t be scared, Y/N. What am I going to do? Tell my stubborn cousin? He won’t believe a word I say the second I mention your name.” Tigris spoke with an airy voice.

“Well—”

Coriolanus walked in, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I finished my paper, it didn’t take long.”

“Hey, Coryo.” Tigris smiled with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Hi?”

“Did you know that your lovely little flower, here, likes—“

“Tigris!” You glare at the seventeen-year-old. “You said you wouldn’t.”

“Oops.” She stood, wiping her dress from invisible dirt. “But, you know, out of curiosity… Coryo, do you like someone at school?”

Pink dusted his cheeks as he glanced down at you before looking at his cousin. “No.”

She squinted her eyes at him, “No?”

He shook his head, refusing to meet yours or Tigris’ eyes. She hummed and got close to both of you.

“My advice, ask them out before someone else does.”

As you both got older with the passing time, your crush on him intensified and vice versa. Tigris always asked if either one of you asked the other out, but you both always said no. On your sixteenth birthday, he asked you to be his girlfriend, which was during your third year in the Academy. Around that time, you became better acquainted with those in your class. Coryo would get jealous, but ever so subtly. Even if that meant leaving mid conversation with another one of your friends just to talk to you.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N!” Sejanus nudged your shoulder, handing you a small present.

“Thank you, Sej.” You take the gift and lightly put it in your bag. “I’ll open it later, I have a—“

“Hey, beautiful. Can I steal you?” Coriolanus appeared by your left, nodding at Sejanus.

“Coryo, I was just talking too—“

“No no, go ahead. I just wanted to give you your present.” Sejanus smiled.

“If you say so. I’ll talk to you later!” You call out to him, letting Coryo link your hands together. “I was busy.” You gave a joking pout.

“Yeah, well, I needed your attention.” He pulled you away, near the few cherry trees remaining at the Capitol. His tone sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine, but you pushed the thought away as he sat you down on a concrete bench.

“Okay, what is it?” You cross your arms and legs, looking up at him. “I promised my father I’d come straight home today.”

Coriolanus dug through his bag before handing you a small, rectangular box. You carefully took it from his hands, pulling at the small bow. You gasped at the contents of the box, a silver necklace with a rose pendant hanging at its center.

“Coryo… It’s gorgeous.” You gently took the necklace out of its container, taking a closer look. “How did you…?”

“I may or may not have found some odd jobs around the poorer parts to get money for this.” He shrugged.

You clutch the necklace in your right hand and give him the brightest smile you could muster. “I love it. I really do… Help me put it on?”

He took the necklace from your hand and unclasped it, adjusting it to your liking.

“You didn’t need to get this for me, you know? I like our usual birthday hang outs.” You say, feeling the cold from his hands emit onto your neck.

“I wanted to.” He clasped the necklace back together, bringing his head near your own. “You deserve the world.”

You turn your head, face millimeters away from his own. Your eyes flicker down to his lips before back to his piercing blue eyes which had done the same. Coriolanus held your face with his left hand, rubbing your cheek.

“Can I?” He whispered to you, earning a nod.

He pulled you close to him, planting a soft kiss to your lips. You smiled into the kiss, placing your hand on his chest.

Quickly running out of air, you parted from him, eyes fluttering open to see him. You looked at his lips and lightly laughed, rubbing your thumb on his bottom lip.

“Have I got something?” He asks, voice slightly breathy.

You hum, “Just a bit of my lipstick on your lips, nothing major.”

He rolls his eyes and pulls you into another kiss, this time, his free hand was on your waist. You made a sound of surprise before melting into the kiss as well, messing with the fabric in his suit.

“Be my girlfriend.” He says in between kisses as you ended up on his lap. “Please.”

“Of course.” You separated yourself from him, taking heavy breaths. “Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend, Coriolanus Snow.”

“Then I’ll gladly be your boyfriend, Y/N Lovett.” He placed one last kiss on your lips. “Now, how much lipstick is on my face?”

“A lot.” You giggle, resting your forehead against his.

Over the next few months, you told Grandma’am and Tigris that you started dating. Both were happy, but Tigris especially. She would ask about your dates and occasionally made you dresses for them.

Yet, when your father found out about you dating Coriolanus, he simply disapproved. He hated the idea that you were dating someone from a family with no money, no more power to their name. Of course, no one else knew that except Dean Highbottom and your family.

Everyday was the same battle with your father. He always commented on your behavior after learning you were with the young Snow and refused to accept the fact that you two were dating without any benefits for his own family name.

Therefore, the ultimatum was created.

“You must tell Tigris to stop making me dresses.” You fiddle with the bow on the strap.

“Do you not like them?” He squeezes your hand, the warm breeze of the summer hitting the both of you.

You shake your head, “No! No, I love them. But I don’t think she should be spending all these resources on me. I offer to pay, but she won’t—“

“You don’t need to pay. You never do.” He stops your pace, looking into your eyes.

“Coryo…” You sigh, looking around you. Deeming it was safe, you continued. “You and I both know she shouldn’t be making these for me without pay. I should at least help pay for some of the—“

“Hey hey, look at me.” Coriolanus took your face with both of his hands. “You don’t have to pay for us at all. Don’t worry about it.”

“But—“

“Get your hands off my daughter, Snow.” Your father demanded as he came out of the manor, both you and Coryo jumping at the man’s voice.

‘Sorry.’ You mouthed to your boyfriend, forgetting you were walking back to your home.

Your father clicked his tongue, “Come inside, we haven’t got all day.”

You hurry your steps to the porch of the manor, your father waiting for who knows what.

“You too, Mr Snow.” He beckoned the platinum blond over. “I doubt you don’t want to hear this conversation involving my daughter and your… Relationship.”

Your steps faltered at his words but you followed the butler into the living area, supposedly where your father wanted to discuss something. You sat on the lovers sofa as Coriolanus walked in with your father second. You gave a subtle gesture for him to sit next to you. Coryo took long strides to sit by you, still leaving a good amount of room because of your father.

“Tea?” He asked the both of you as the help walked in with a tray.

“Thank you, Em.” You take a cup of tea from her, setting it to the side.

“No, thank you.” Coriolanus waved her off a bit, hands kept to himself.

“Right.” Your father sat up straight on the couch opposite of you both. “About your relationship.”

A few beats pass.

“You both are comfortable with one another and that’s fine. But, Mr. Snow, you really aren't of any value to us at the moment.”

Your hand flexes at your side, suddenly angered by your father’s poor choice of words.

“Maybe, before the Rebellion, yes. But now, the Snows are nothing but rags disguised as designer material.”

“Is there a point to this, father?” Your eyes bore into his.

“Ah, yes. You see, I wouldn’t mind your relationship with my daughter at all if you were to somehow make your way back up. Let’s say, winning the Plinth prize. You win, I allow you to date my daughter. You lose, well, she’ll be arranged to marry another who will benefit the Lovett name.” Your father spoke with such a demeaning manner.

“Father, that’s not—“

“I’ll do it.” Coryo cuts you off, earning a wide eyed look from you. “I agree to those terms, sir.”

“Very well. May the odds be in your favor, Mr. Snow.” He got up, taking his leave. “Oh, and Y/N?”

You look at your father, a permanent scowl on your face.

“I advise you to look for other suitors before I pick for you.”

Your father finally left the two of you, your eyes snapping to the blond next to you.

“Coriolanus Snow. Are you out of your mind? Where has your brain gone?” You smack his chest in between every word before getting stopped by the male. “Let go of me!”

“You know I only agreed to it because I can do it. You know that.” He loosens his grip on your wrists. “I have healthy grades, I never miss a class.”

Your eyes gloss over, “You better win that Plinth Prize, Coryo.”

Coryo cradles your head with his hands, kissing the top of your head. “I’m not losing you. I never will.”

From that day onwards, it was a constant battle for him to be the best out of the best at Academy.

After all, Snow always lands on top.

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