#this is a SERIOUS fucking matter going on right now

[trashytracktales]

Heyy girliee, first of all I want to say that your writing is absolutely amazing. I’ve been reading your Lando fics for the past couple of days and “endings, beginnings” had me feeling butterflies in my stomach 🫢 I wanted to ask you if you could write something about lando and reader being friends but constantly having sexual tension building up between them. Maybe they flirt with each other but never think of it as something so serious and one night after a party they completely destroy each other. I fully trust you with this and how you’ll develop the story haha and don’t hold back. Thank youuu :*

Think twice | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you so much for the love on Endings, beginnings & I appreciate you for taking the time to share this. Hope you like it 🤍🎀

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𐙚 summary ──── What starts as a chill party, where they sit in their old habits, ends with new boundaries crossed and a heavy tension they can no longer ignore.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, descriptive language, swearing, mentions of alcohol and drinking, friends to lovers, bit of jealous!Lando, smut, slight teasing, praising, fingering & oral (sit on it), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex.

𐙚 word count ──── 4.8k

𐙚 date ──── Jan. 21, 2025

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THE TWO OF them are always standing next to each other, no matter the room they’re in. The context, just like the reason why this happens, is redundant. Plus, they don’t even do it on purpose; rather, they are unconsciously drawn to each other like two magnets.

The party has finally slowed to a lazy hum, the music just a tolerable background noise now. People linger in clusters around them, their voices a distant murmur blending with the faint bassline of a forgotten playlist. The living room is dim, lit mostly by the glow of a string of fairy lights drooping across the ceiling.

It was supposed to be a small gathering, but then a friend told a friend, and that friend told their friends. And now, it’s almost impossible to find a private spot to catch your breath without breathing someone else’s air.

Somehow, they did. They are tucked into the corner of a couch, their space a small bubble of comfort. Her legs are draped over his lap, bare skin warm against the fabric of his black jeans. He’s cradling her calf in one hand, his thumb absentmindedly stroking her skin.

Her fingers thread through his curls at the back of his head, twirling them lazily. It’s a casual gesture, but it sends a shiver through him every time she does it.

Their conversation shifted into easy gossiping about a mutual friend — someone they both think is trying a bit too hard with their Instagram posts.

“It’s fucking obvious he’s fishing for attention,” says Lando, sounding almost conspiratorial.

“I know, right? The cryptic ass captions, the mirror selfies. He thinks he’s smooth with it, too,” she replies, giggling at the thought.

Lando grins, his thumb still tracing circles on her leg. The banter feels safe, the kind of effortless connection they’ve always had. But underneath it, there’s a quiet tension that neither of them is ready to address. Because they are, maybe, a bit tipsy, or because none of them has ever had the courage to take it further, for some reason.

“Alright, I need to pee,” she announces suddenly, getting ready to stand.

But Lando tightens his grip on her legs, his lips twitching in a smirk. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do,” she insists, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “If I don’t go, I might pee on you.”

Lando shrugs, “Go ahead. Then I might discover a new kink,” he encourages her.

“New?” she laughs. “That implies you already have at least one.”

Lando winks at her without saying a word, the corners of his mouth curling into a mischievous smile.

She rolls her eyes, smiling back at his immature behavior. “My God. You’re actually the worst. Move.”

He doesn’t. Instead, Lando, just stares at her with an expression that’s visibly different. His usual playful gaze has shifted to something more intense, and she tells herself he’s just a little... intoxicated. Still, it makes her heart skip a beat, because he looks so adorable when his eyes focus on something so intently. And so hot, that it makes her almost forget why she wanted to get up in the first place.

“Lan, I’m not joking, I actually have to go,” she whispers, her voice softer now.

He exhales, loosening his grip but not before giving her leg a small, reluctant squeeze.

“Don’t get lost,” he says, the words carrying more weight than they should.

She shakes her head, slipping off the couch and disappearing into the hallway. Lando watches her go, his eyes trailing after her like he’s afraid she might actually not come back.

Which is ridiculous, because he should not care. There are lots of other girls that he can take home tonight if he wants to.

Want, being the keyword.

Leaning back against the couch, he sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s always known she was the embodiment of the perfect girl for him — funny, kind, and loyal. But tonight, there’s something else in the air that makes his mind wander. The way she carries herself, her laugh, the way she makes everything around her seem brighter.

Lando realized long ago that he wants to he in her presence. The truth hit him like a punch in the gut. And he still feels that punch sometimes, especially when he sees her interacting with other people. Especially men.

He’s had thoughts about her before. Many thoughts. Wild fantasies he brushed off as nothing more than fleeting curiosity. And they’ve joked about it, too, their drunken ‘if we’re single at 35’ pact a favorite running gag. But tonight, it doesn’t feel like a joke — he might actually marry her if she keeps letting him invade her personal space like that. Except she wouldn’t have let Lando do that if she didn’t want him there.

He finds himself smiling at his own thoughts. But then, an unwanted stiffness claws his body.

She’s on the way back when a guy leaning against the wall near the bathroom is blocking her path. He’s tall, too close for Lando’s liking, and he is gesturing animatedly. She’s always too polite, smiling as she talks, but Lando notices the way she shifts her weight, edging away slightly.

Something close to jealousy ignites in his chest, but he manages to tame the feeling by looking away, and forcing himself to take a slow sip of his drink. She can handle herself, he knows that. But he’s also ready to step in, just in case he needs to. Most men don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and he’s aware of how insistent some of them can be.

When she finally returns, Lando’s mood has shifted drastically, and she notices it the second she looks at him.

“Hey, you good?” she asks, plopping back down and swinging her legs over his lap again.

“Yeah,” he says shortly, his hand resuming its absent stroking on her shin.

Her brows knit together. “Not you lying to me. Come on, Landinho, what’s with you?”

“Nothing,” he insists, but his tone is clipped, and his eyes won’t quite meet hers.

She punches his arm lightly, trying to break through whatever wall he’s just put up. “You sure?”

He looks at her then, and the vulnerability in his gaze takes her breath away. “Sure,” he says. But his hand tightens slightly on her leg, like he’s holding onto her in more ways than one.

Her heart clenches. Lando is her friend, the one person she can always count on, but in this moment, she feels the air between them growing in different direction. It’s not the first time, and it doesn’t make her uncomfortable, but it’s not easy for her to sit in it, either.

“You’re being weird,” she states, trying to lighten the mood, but her voice wavers.

“Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, forcing a small smile. “Just tired,” adds Lando, but there’s something he hides behind his eyes, something that makes her chest ache.

She studies his face, her teasing words dying on her lips. His eyes are heavy-lidded, the usual spark dulled by the late hour and maybe one drink too many. His movements are slow, lazy, his thumb still caressing her skin.

“I can see that,” she says gently, sliding her legs off his lap. “Up. Come with me?”

The sudden loss of contact pulls him out of his haze, “Where?” asks Lando, his voice faintly slurred with exhaustion.

“Do you trust me?” she replies with a knowing smile, standing up and extending a hand to him. “My god, Lando. My friend gave me keys to one of the rooms upstairs in case I wanted to crash.”

He hesitates, glancing at her outstretched hand before finally letting out a soft laugh and taking it.

They make their way upstairs, the faint thump of music growing quieter with each step. The room isn’t far, tucked at the end of a hallway. She unlocks the door, revealing a small but cozy space. The room is dimly lit, with a single bedside lamp casting a muted glow over the single bed that’s pressed against one wall, a small dresser, and an armchair in the corner.

Lando steps in behind her, the faint hum of the party fading as the door clicks shut. His gaze sweeps over the room, taking in the space. She lingers by the door for a moment, turning the key with a soft click, locking them in; the sound feels final, and heavier than it should.

Lando notices the bed immediately, his eyes narrowing briefly before he rubs the back of his neck, a gesture that betrays his unease. His voice is low and uncertain as he says, “You know what, I can crash on the couch downstairs. It’s fine.”

She tilts her head, her lips curving into a small smile as she watches him fidget. “You can,” she agrees, knowing that Lando has the superpower to fall asleep anywhere, no matter the place or how loud the background noise is. “Unfortunately, I locked the door,” she adds with fake concern in her voice.

Lando glances at her, his expression caught somewhere between playful and wary. “Yeah. You can unlock it, though.”

“But I won’t,” she replies, her smile softening, her words carrying an unspoken challenge that Lando catches immediately.

His lips part, and for a moment, he says nothing, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. Then, quietly, his voice dipping lower, he says, “Then don’t.”

His words linger between them, and she feels the weight of his gaze as it shifts to her. There’s no teasing in his expression now, no trace of the lighthearted Lando she’s used to.

She lets her arms fall to her side, her pulse quickening.

Lando’s chest rises and falls steadily, though there’s a tautness to his posture. His gaze darts back to the bed, then to her, and she swears she sees a flicker of something in his eyes — fear? Desire? Anticipation?

His jaw tightens, his eyes searching hers, and she feels the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down on them both. Every glance, every touch, every joke that lingered a second too long — it’s all there, bubbling to the surface.

The tension between them that has simmered for months, maybe even years, suddenly feels unbearable. Lando’s eyes meet hers once again, and the quiet resolve in her gaze breaks something inside him. And then, suddenly, a glance he catches from her it’s all it takes. The restraint he’s held onto for so long snaps like a rubber band stretched too far. Before he knows it, he’s closing the gap between them, his hands cupping her face as his lips crash against hers.

She responds instantly, her hands tangling in his curls as she pulls him closer. The kiss is all-consuming, months of buried feelings and unsaid words spilling out in a rush. It’s intoxicating, a heavy blend of alcohol and the faint sweetness of her cherry lip balm. His lips are soft, impossibly so, molding against hers like they were made to fit. The taste of him is dizzying, a perfect balance of warmth and want, and each movement of his mouth sends sparks of heat rippling through her.

It’s overwhelming, the way Lando kisses her — gentle, but with a growing intensity that leaves her breathless, her heart pounding as if it’s trying to match the rhythm of his. His fingers trail down to her neck, squeezing lightly and pulling her against him as they stumble backward toward the bed.

“Do you know how long—” he begins against her lips, his voice rough with need.

“Too long,” she cuts him off with another kiss while her fingers are rushing to tug at the hem of his shirt.

Lando groans as they tumble onto the bed. Their breaths are loud and uneven, filling the small space as their lips crash together again, need and desire fueling every movement. Her palm presses against the small of his back, coaxing him between her legs. He instinctively follows her guidance, his body lowering against hers until his forehead rests on hers. At that, Lando sighs, not with frustration but a soft exasperation that halts them both.

“Are we… okay?” he asks, half-amused and half-concerned. “We shouldn’t—we should not do this. Not like this.”

She doesn’t release him, her hands still on his sides, her legs loosely wrapped around him. “We are,” she assures him, her voice calm but insistent. “It’s just us, Lando.”

His brows furrow, his lips parting in disbelief. “I know. I just don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and—”

Her hands move to his face, cupping it firmly and forcing him to look directly at her. “Regret it?” the girl asks, her thumbs stroking his cheekbones. “Don’t be silly. You know this isn’t about tonight. I’ve wanted you for a while now. I know you do, too.”

His eyes flicker with something raw, and he swallows hard. “I do,” he agrees. “But. It’d be such a waste to mess it up.”

The weight of his confession settles over them, and he falls onto the mattress beside her. For a moment, they both stare up at the ceiling, their fingers brushing tentatively before intertwining. It’s quiet, save for the hum of the party faintly bleeding through the walls.

And then, “You’re such a good kisser, by the way,” she finally breaks the silence.

He lets out a chuckle, visibly affected. “You’re not making it any easier.”

“I’m already messed up because of you, Lan,” she confesses, turning onto her side, her fingers finding his arm and tracing slow patterns along its length. “I trust us. No matter the outcome.”

Her hand travels to his chest, her fingers brushing lightly over his collarbone before moving to his jaw. She traces the line of it, her touch light but electrifying. Finally, her thumb brushes over his bottom lip, her gaze following her movements so closely, as if she wants to devour him.

Their thoughts run wild, revisiting every stolen glance, the tension, the want — it’s always been there. Every moment brought them here.

And now?

“Do you, really?” asks Lando, his voice laced with curiosity.

She nods, her hands sliding down to rest over his, her fingers curling around his. “Completely. I trust us to figure it out as we go. Don’t you?”

He lets her words settle, a warmth spreading through his body. He does. But he still has to think twice before agreeing to something so drastic, especially when he is faced with something he wants so badly that it makes him burn with impatience.

Finally, Lando sighs, looking at her.

“It’s not a big deal, right?” she says with a quiet laugh, her voice tinged with both affection and relief. “We’ve always been good at just... being us.”

He smiles at that, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “That’s true. We’re pretty fucking great at that.”

Lando’s breathing hitches as she guides his hand to her ass, pressing it against her curves with an undeniable confidence. His grip tightens instinctively, and she drapes a leg over his waist, pulling herself closer. Their eyes lock, her fingers tracing his features, as if committing every contour to memory. They’ve never been so close to each other, and the intimacy of the moment makes his heart race, while hers almost melts under the warmth of his body.

“You’re going to ruin me,” he admits matter-of-factly.

Her lips curl into a faint smile. “Hopefully,” she whispers, her hand traveling south, to work on unbuttoning his jeans.

Lando swallows hard, his gaze darkening as he grips her tighter. “If I fuck you tonight…” his voice drops, laced with a possessiveness that makes her shiver. “I won’t be able to let another guy come anywhere near you again.”

Her eyebrows arch in surprise, finally able to put the pieces together, understanding why Lando was acting so strange earlier.

“Are you jealous, Lando?” she teases, though there’s a flicker of curiosity in her tone.

Lando’s response is silent; instead, he leans in, his lips finding the soft curve of her neck. He sucks lightly, then harder, leaving a blooming hickey that makes her gasp.

When he pulls back, his voice is firm, “No, I just want people to stay away from what’s mine.”

Her breath catches, and before she can stop herself, the word escapes her lips in a near-whisper. “Yours.”

The corners of his mouth twitch, but he doesn’t say anything, letting the intensity in his gaze speak for him. She pushes at his chest, making him fall back against the mattress with a soft laugh, and crawls on top of him, her thighs straddling his hips.

Impatiently, her hands work on his shirt, pushing it up his chest. “Off,” she demands, tugging until he lifts his arms and lets her pull it over his head.

His hands waste no time, slipping under her skirt and pulling at the lace of her panties. “These,” he says quickly, his breath warm against her collarbone, “are in my way.”

With a sharp pull, he slides them down her thighs, and she shivers as the cool air kisses her damp skin. She leans down, burying her face in the crook of his neck to hide her embarrassment as he guides her hips forward, her bare core pressing against the warmth of his abs. The firm ridges of muscle beneath her send a jolt of pleasure through her body, and she lets out a soft moan.

Lando’s hand tightens on her hip, his thumb brushing over her skin. “Look at that,” he breathes heavily, “What got you so excited, hm?”

She whimpers at his words, the heat pooling in her cheeks as much as between her thighs. “Don’t—” she mumbles into his neck, her voice muffled and shy.

He chuckles softly, the vibration of it against her skin making her shudder. “No, that’s so hot,” he teases, moving her hips just slightly so she drags against him. His own breath catches, and his hips shift upward, pressing the hardness of his length against her thigh. “You feel what you’re doing to me? It’s mutual.”

She lifts her head, her eyes meeting his as she lets her fingers trail down his chest. Next, she adjusts herself as her hand slides lower, brushing against the waistband of his pants before she pushes them down just enough to free him. His cock springs free, and she bites her lip at the sight of it, her own arousal growing as she reaches out to wrap her hand around him.

Lando groans, his head falling back against the pillow. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice rough and full of longing.

As she leans down to press her lips to his chest, her tongue flicking over his nipple, a sound escapes him that’s somewhere between a gasp and a moan. She glances up again, amused. “Well,” she teases, her voice playful but sultry, “I think I just found your new kink.”

Lando lets out a weak chuckle, his hand tangling in her hair as he pulls her back up to kiss her. “Shut up,” he speaks over her lips, but the way his hips buck against her hand tells her she’s right. “Everything you do is my kink,” he whispers, the rawness in his voice making her heart race.

Her cheeks flush a deeper shade, and with a playful glint in her eye, her hand squeezes his cock lightly, eliciting a sharp inhale from him. “Sorry,” she giggles, feigning innocence, “I just wanted to make sure.”

He scoffs, shaking his head with a smirk before his hands cup her ass firmly, pressing her harder against him. His voice is rough and dripping with need as he almost begs, “Come sit on my face.”

The unexpected plea is leaving her breathless, painting her face in confusion. “What?” she stammers, her voice nearly swallowed by the thrum of arousal coursing through her.

“Yeah, you heard me,” Lando assures her, his tone insistent, his eyes ablaze with anticipation.

Without waiting for her to argue, he pushes her skirt up around her waist, revealing the soft skin of her thighs, and pulls her closer to his face. She hesitates for a moment, her nerves warring with her desire, but when his strong hands guide her gently and his lips press a teasing kiss against her inner thigh, she gives in. The first swipe of his tongue against her entrance makes her gasp, her hand flying to the wall to steady herself.

Lando groans as he tastes her, the sound vibrating against her core and sending shockwaves through her body. One arm wraps tightly around her thigh, anchoring her to him, while his free hand drifts down to his cock, stroking himself in tandem with the rhythm of his tongue. Her moans spill into the air, mixing with his as Lando’s mouth works her over like a man starved, warm and wet and utterly relentless.

“Lan,” she breathes, her voice shaky as the intensity builds. Her hips jerk against his mouth instinctively, and he responds by pulling her even closer, burying his face deeper between her legs.

His tongue flicks, swirls, and presses in all the right places, and she can barely keep herself upright. She has to press both of her palms on the wall, but even then it’s not enough to keep her grounded. Not when Lando laps at her clit, his fingers digging into her thighs to keep her still as her body begins to tremble.

“You taste so fucking good,” he informs her between strokes of his tongue, his words muffled but clear enough to make her toes curl.

As her breaths turn shallow and erratic, she feels the pressure coiling tightly in her abdomen. Lando senses it, too, and his grip tightens, his movements growing more fervent. “Wanna come for me?” he asks as impatient as she is.

Before she can even process his question, her climax crashes into her like a tidal wave, her thighs trembling around his head as her moans echo through the room. Lando doesn’t stop, his mouth and tongue coaxing her through every pulse and tremor until she’s gasping for air.

In one swift, effortless motion, he pulls her down onto the bed and flips her over, positioning himself above her. His lips are slick, his gaze heavy-lidded with lust as he pumps two fingers into her, the wet heat of her still clenching around him.

“That’s it,” he encourages, his thumb brushing against her sensitive clit as his fingers curl inside. “Let me feel you.”

Her body arches off the bed as another wave of pleasure crests over her, Lando’s name spilling from her lips in breathless cries. The sheer intensity of his touch and the quickness of it all leave her spinning, her mind barely able to keep up as he drives her over the edge once more.

By the time her breathing begins to steady, Lando leans down, his lips brushing hers in a lingering kiss, tasting her satisfaction on his tongue. He grins against her mouth, utterly smug but entirely captivated.

“See how fucking delicious you are?” he whispers, and she can only nod, still lost in the aftermath of him unraveling her completely.

Seeing the pleasure etched across her face, Lando can barely hold it together. His hands tremble slightly as he shoves his jeans and boxers down for good, freeing himself at last. His cock, heavy and flushed, rests against her thigh, the warmth of her skin giving him goosebumps. He breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling in sync with hers as he pauses for just a moment, meeting her gaze with a mix of vulnerability and pure lust.

“Are we really gonna do this?” asks Lando, his voice hiding too much desire under its raspy tone.

His eyes search hers, looking for any hint of doubt. Luckily, there is none. She just nods frantically, her hands sliding down his back to cup the firm muscles of his ass.

Her touch sends electricity through him, and she guides him where she needs him most, her body arching in anticipation. “I want you. Please.”

Without breaking eye contact, he sinks into her, and the world stops for both of them. His head falls forward, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he feels her warmth envelop him, her slick heat drawing him in effortlessly. Her body opens for him so easily, so perfectly, that it steals his breath. The tension that had coiled tightly in her frame melts away as her legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer.

Her arms encircle his shoulders, holding him tightly while she gasps Lando’s name. Her voice is music to his ears, and he presses his forehead against hers, the connection between them both overwhelming, yet grounding. Her fingers slide into his curls, playing with the strands at the nape of his neck as her hips shift instinctively, adjusting to his size.

“God, you feel…” he trails off, unable to find the words. Instead, he lets his body speak for him, drawing back before thrusting forward again. His movements are purposeful and powerful, each one making the bed creak slightly beneath them and pushing her up and down the sheets.

Her lips part with soft cries, her fingers tightening in his hair as her body meets each of his thrusts. “Lando,” she moans, her voice full of need and adoration, spurring him on. “Yes, that feels so good. Don’t stop.”

He catches her mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing her sounds as his hands wander over her body. His fingers hook under the hem of her t-shirt, and he tugs it upward, breaking the kiss momentarily to pull it over her head. The sight of her bare skin, flushed and glistening, takes his breath away. Her breasts are adorned with black lace, and the contrast against her skin ignites something primal in him.

“Stunning,” says Lando just as his hand drifts to her chest, brushing over the delicate fabric.

The way she arches into his touch, her nails scraping lightly against his shoulders, drives him wild. His thrusts deepen, his hips moving with purpose as the room fills with the sounds of their bodies meeting, her moans, and his ragged breaths.

“Fucking hell,” he rasps. His jaw clenches as he feels her tightening around him. “You’re killing me. So tight and—”

Before he can finish, she pulls him into a kiss. It’s shallow, their lips barely meeting as they breathe each other’s air. Her nails dig into his back, her legs trembling as she holds him as close as humanly possible.

“You’re so good, Lando,” she murmurs, her voice quivering, her praise like gasoline on his fire. “My favorite boy.”

Her words send him over the edge of control, his hips stuttering as he thrusts deep inside her, feeling her walls begin to flutter and clench around his cock. Her back arches, her head burying into the pillow as her orgasm crashes over her like a tidal wave. Again.

Her moans are unfiltered, and she clutches him like he’s her lifeline, while Lando stills inside her, groaning low and long as her body grips him so tightly that knocks the air out of his lungs. He presses his forehead against her chest, their breaths hurried as her aftershocks pulse around him so sweetly. Her nails scrape lightly down his back, grounding them both, continuing to whisper his name like a prayer.

It’s enough for Lando to surrender to his own orgasm, his body trembling as wave after wave of release takes him over. He stays buried inside her, unwilling to part just yet. The warm tightness around him makes him shudder, his hand gripping her thigh to anchor himself.

When he finally pulls out, he hesitates before pressing his knee between her legs, feeling the slick warmth of their combined arousal smearing against his skin. She squirms against him, her overstimulated body trembling, her hips shifting involuntarily as aftershocks ripple through her.

Lando watches her, his eyes dark with satisfaction, his voice husky as he whispers, “Forget 35. Let’s get married tomorrow.”

She exhales sharply, a laugh bubbling out of her. “I’m down,” she teases, her tone light but affectionate. “Let’s book the venue now.”

He looks at her, gaze softening, filled with something deeper as he reaches behind her and, with one measured motion, unclasps her bra. The suddenness of it catches her off guard, her eyes widening as he tosses it aside like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Before she can say a word, Lando leans over the side of the bed, fishing for his shirt. He finds it, holding it up, then tugging it over her head, the oversized fabric swallowing her frame.

“Perfect fit,” he says softly, his fingers brushing against her arms as he helps her adjust it. The gesture makes her chest tighten, her heart swelling with an ache she doesn’t fully understand yet.

After that, Lando slides back into his boxers and pulls the covers over both of them. The bed is small, forcing their bodies to press together in a tangle of limbs. It doesn’t feel awkward, though. It feels like a new home, safe and peaceful.

He rests his head on her chest, his breath warm and steady against her, while his hand absently caresses her through the fabric of his shirt, his fingers brushing over her nipple. Everything about the moment feels somehow so normal, like they’ve been this way forever.

The silence stretches on, so comforting, until she suddenly breaks it with a soft groan. “I have to pee again.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

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© trashy track tales, 2025

[thediaryofaghost]

; NOT MY MAN

© gif credits to @daniel-bruehl.

Simon Riley aka GHOST x READER | masterlist.

Summary. the team is back in town after a mission but seems like you would have preferred to stay there than having to face the kind of feelings you're discovering now.

word count: 1.2k.

warnings/tags: none. maybe a little bit of jealousy, but nothing serious.

author notes: my stories don't contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

pd: hi, y'all! first time writing for Ghost, no judging, please. i hope you like it.

The mission couldn’t have gone more successful, and the whole team was back in town before expected. That’s why Soap has had the great idea of throwing a small party for you all, more like a teammates’ barbecue. But now that you’re there, staring at the scene happening right in front of your eyes and holding a beer almost empty, you’re starting to figure out how to leave the place without looking like an asshole.

All your friends are having fun, while you’re about to break the glass container between your fingers just by the burning angriness emerging inside your guts. Why? Simple question, simple answer. Ghost is there, of course, keeping his face covered by the balaclava he never takes off, not even while sleeping; standing arms crossed next to the new acquisition for the team. Rhaia. A former soldier who is brand new to your world. Flirting with him. Or better said, trying to flirt with him. But even if Ghost isn’t moving an inch of his body, he’s letting her touch his bicep, play with the badges sewed in his jacket, and grab his dog tags to read the information written down in them.

Who does she think she is?

And who do you think you are?

Clicking your tongue, as you turn around, you give the beer one last sip before placing it on the table next to you. Silent and keeping your gesture deadpanned, your feet take you to the inside. You’ve had enough shit to deal with for today and you’re pretty tired to pretend you aren't… jealous? Ghost and you are nothing but teammates. On-duty. Off-duty is hard to explain. He’s your guardian during the nights in town like a protector, that’s how you like to see the situation. For a cop, he’s a stalker, and probably a psychopath too. But he has some power over you that you can’t even explain or run away from.

And now, everything you’ve thought you’ve had till this moment looks like it’s been reduced to ashes since Rhaia is part of the equation.

“ Party is downstairs. ”

A shiver runs down your spine. It doesn't matter the amount of time you two spend together, accompanied or alone, you never hear him coming. But you can't help but ignore his words, looking for the keys to your bike inside the pockets of your leather jacket, about to wear the piece of clothing and leave the house.

“ You going mute scares me more than death. ”

His voice is neutral. There’s no confusion, or angriness, or surprise in it. Those emotions fill you up at the exact moment you turn around, ready to go, by finding him closer than expected. 

“ Oh, for fuck sake! ”  You grumble, moving a palm onto your chest and closing your eyes for a second.

“ Where are ya’ heading at, hm? ”

“ You all are occupied with your own business and I’m tired, I just want to sleep, Ghost. ”

Raising his eyebrows as an incredulous gesture, the man tilts his head slightly, trying to figure out what’s going on inside that mind of yours. It’s not the explanation, but the fact that you have called him by his undercover name, and not just by his name like whenever the two of you are alone.

“ I'll take you home, little bird. C’mon. ”

“ You’re not coming. ” The sentence slips through your mouth before you can even think about it, watching him turn back to face you as he is ready to accompany you.

“ I am your man, of course I’m leaving with you. ” He’s now aware of what’s going on, and can’t help but drag every single word by his tongue. Demanding. With that possessive tone of voice that, in another kind of situation, would take you to your more desired fantasies later that night.

“ If my man can be touched by any woman, then… he’s not my man. ”

Oh, there it is; the attitude that rarely comes out from you, taking a step closer at the point you're breathing in the air he spells — besides the height difference. You’re challenging him with no fear, with no doubt. Looking straight into his eyes, contemplating how they darken themselves. That man is angry for real, making a huge effort to not lose his mind, the control over his body. Not with you. Maybe with a poor devil that crosses paths with him tonight. But you’re hurt. And so it’s your ego. Gho— Simon is yours. Nobody else can't touch him with that kind of intention but you, even when you don’t touch him like that; because the two of you have a non-verbal arrangement that he’s your guard dog and you don’t make any complaints.

Your heart races at the moment he takes a step back, away from you, not uttering a single word, making you feel frustrated for preventing you from seeing his face at this moment. How much would you love to burn down the balaclava he’s wearing (...).  But, at least, it seems like he has understood that you need some time alone to put down the feelings and emotions blurring your head like stormy clouds covering the sun from nowhere.

( A few hours later. )

“ What… What are you doing here? ”

Even if it was quite a surprise to find your lieutenant, fully equipped, sitting in front of your bed in the middle of the night, you didn't feel like he was a menace, nor like you were in danger. You didn't even care to ask how he had sneaked inside your house outwitting the alarm.

“ Go back to sleep, little bird. ” The murmur left his covered lips as he bent over just a little, enough to rest his arms onto his lap, getting a better view of you obeying without complaining and laying down between the sheets.

For a reason you can’t understand, you wake up with your heart racing and a thin layer of sweat covering your whole body. The survivor mode has been turned on. It wasn’t a nightmare, but a memory haunting you. The room is submerged in darkness, only illuminated by a lamppost outside, but what leaves you with no words is the empty chair in front of your eyes. Ghost is not there. And he should be.

Turning on the light, you look for your phone. No calls. No texts. Nothing. Cleaning the sweat from your forehead with a tissue, you toss away the wet sheets and walk barefoot outside of your room, touring the small flat.

“ Simon…? ”

Maybe he has gone for a glass of water or something, but you don’t receive a word back, nor a hint that he’s there. It’s only you and the silence of the night.

A sharp pinch stabs your heart. But what is that? Pain, sorrow, regret? Sadness? For a moment, you think that calling him is a good idea, disappearing as you remember what you told him earlier this evening. Has he taken that really seriously? No. That’s not typical of him. He would fight. And, for you, he would go to hell and be back before the blink of an eye, after turning off the flames that consume the place.

But then, why is the first night in almost two years he is not there, watching over you while you sleep?

Where are you, Ghost…?

feedback is appreciated and needed. please, if you have read this shot, leave a comment and / or reblog. don’t forget we do it for free to contribute to your entertainment and interactions are what make us keep writing every day.

[oncamelliastreet]

on a serious note, though, today and the next four years and probably the years after that are going to be very very hard for a lot of people. i am always here for you guys, if you follow me or you don’t, if you’ve ever seen my blog before or this is your first encounter, no matter what. talk to me if you need somebody to listen.

give your queer friends a hug the next time you see them. if you are queer, i’m sending you a hug right now. please don’t give up. our rights and our validity is no doubt about to be put under the microscope, but please remember that you have people that love you and who will miss you when you are gone. i will miss you. choose to stay and to fight. be brave, for me. i love you.

give your friends who are women a hug the next time you see them. if you are a woman, i’m sending you a hug right now. our rights to our bodies and our very right to what little equality we have is in danger. please stay. stay. stay on this earth. i don’t care what you have to do. stay. we are strong. we can fight. we will fight. you are brave, you are powerful, and you can and will make a difference in this world. just please stay on it.

give your poc friends a hug the next time you see them. if you are a poc, i’m sending you a hug right now. there’s a racist in office, and he no doubt plans to start deportations and several other racist actions beginning today. please stay. you are needed on this earth, and in america. don’t ever let somebody who willingly died themselves fucking orange tell you otherwise. stay.

give your friends who are victims of sexual violence and harassment a hug next time you see them. if you are a victim, im sending you a hug right now. i love you. you are the bravest person i will ever meet, just for what you have endured your ability to still be here. you are incredibly strong. these next years are undoubtably going to be impossibly hard with a literal rapist in office. please please please please please stay on this earth. please remember that you are loved. stay.

give any of your friends a hug the next time you see them. i’m sending you one right now. we are about to witness sheer and utter stupidity run our country into the ground. i love you, and i want you on this planet. i don’t care what happens, i need you to keep fighting, for me and for your family and for your friends and for your pets and for the birds in the trees and for art and for life. you matter. you are loved. please stay.

i am not exaggerating. it doesn’t matter if this is your first day on this app and we’ve never so much as exchanged a like, if you need somebody to talk to, i am here. i will listen, i will talk to you, i will give you love, because you deserve it. please be strong. please, fight.

stay.

[wolvndmouth]

okay so who’s gonna write the fic where logan and wade have been together for forever but shit really hits the fan in their universe (they are still fighting against paradox and other baddies along the way) and the two of them find themselves backed into a corner when it comes to not only saving their universe from being pruned again, but to save logan and cure his adamantium poisoning/slowing healing factor

and just when things couldn’t get worse, cable comes back from the future to save wade from the pruning, but he sees wade with logan and is shocked he’s moved on so he’s feeling a whole lotta “wtf he’s mine i still love you lets try this again”

cue logan reminding nathan that he made a choice to leave wade. things got too serious for nate, and he just can’t show up out of nowhere expecting wade to drop everything just for him now that he’s ready to try for real this time

cue nathan reminding logan that not only did he date his dad, but he has sabotaged almost every good relationship in his life. nate thinks its just a matter of time until logan does it again and that he doesn’t want wade to be “just another name lost in the centuries”

then cue wade feeling like shit because he never forgave nathan for leaving and both him and logan don’t have a lot of time to deal with this plus having to find a cure/save the universe

AND THEN cue complicated feelings for all 3 of them while they try to figure this shit out because logan is starting to understand why wade loved nathan and nathan is starting to understand why wade loves logan and wade is starting to catch feelings for nathan again but doesn’t want to put logan through a throuple situation after knowing how the first time went. wade is also still not over nate abandoning him and there isn’t much nate can do to regain trust again

AND THEN AND THEN there’s a big reveal where you find out that wade’s healing factor has begun to slow down as well, and his cancer has started to come back little by little. logan is convinced that in being together for as long as they have, it’s his adamantium that’s making wade sick and he’s thinking about making wade leave their universe with nate so he’d at least have a fighting chance. he doesn’t want to tell wade the real reason why he wants him to go, because he doesn’t want wade to feel sad/less likely to go/guilty about logan dying without him, so he’s starting to act different and is on the verge of wanting to purposefully push wade away to make it easier for the both of them

nate also thinks that it’s logan’s adamantium that is making wade sick again, but he’s been around enough to know that wade will get worse just being apart from logan and he doesn’t think he can do that to wade, even if it meant saving his life. he feels like he’s hurt wade enough and maybe he needs to figure out why he’s even involving himself in all of this before making moves. maybe it would be best that he leaves so no one else has to get hurt or disappointed. maybe wade being sick isn’t something he’s meant to be around for or fix

BUT THEN you have wade, questioning his decades long relationship with logan for the first time in a long time, trying to hang on to the hope that neither one of them are right; that nate is wrong about logan adding their relationship to the tallies of things he destroys and that logan is wrong about nate getting ready to leave cause wade dying is just too serious of a situation to be around for. you have wade, who has always been capable of loving everyone but himself, and is hoping that this time and at the very least, just one of the people he loves love him enough to stay

at some point in all this, none of them know if they’re gonna fuck or fight. or both. so they fight then fuck then fight some more idk dude these old guys are just slutty af in my head

…

so. who’s gonna write it cause i sure as hell can’t 🙃🙃🙃🙃

[zephyrrhiesfyrian]

Sneasler fucker anon here. For the pla mecha au, how to cybertronians come into being? Allspark, Vector Sigma, Hot spots/matrix, spicy fan versions, non-spicy fan versions, crystals, g1 logic, etc. It would determine specifically how Emmet would react to thinking Ingo fucked that sneasler.

Biggest question would be if Ingo and Emmet were split spark twins. Big angst potential there, especially if the fanon twin spark bond existed. Would it be snapped, stretched thin, or just non-existent? Imagine another soul that's been there your whole life. Its a part of not-you that you constantly feel. You've never been without it. And then one day it just disappears. Not silent, not broken, not stretched so thin that you can barely feel it. The bond is just... gone, like it never existed. How would it be for someone who's never existed without their other half, the only other being they share a soul with?

And then you meet them again. Many years, many lifetimes down the road. On another planet, stranded and alone. You're excited, of course you are. You've missed them for eons, searched desperately for just a glimpse of them, down dark alleyways and on planets hostile against mechanical organisms. Now you're on a backwater planet with strange organics with strange and sometimes threatening powers. You might be stranded with no way home, no way to contact anyone. It doesn't matter though, they're here.You've found them. Your other half of your spark, of your life, of yourself. They're right in front of you....

But you can't feel them.

I imagine cybertronians come into being the same manner I use for most of my serious tf AUs, which is a combination: hot spots (aka sparks just spawn straight out of Cybertron's surface and coalesce into Person), cold construction (sparks yoinked from the Matrix of Leadership that later get shoved into premade bodies), and then "sexual reproduction", which in this case is just "you have two cybertronians and they smush sparks and then maybe sometimes there's a weird reaction that happens and you get a third spark".

I'm assuming that spark-twins are probably sparks that come into existence as a single spark and then split partially through the coalescence period. So in terms of fun IDW1 terminology/lore, Ingo and Emmet are Forged (they spawned from a hot spot).

As for the spark bond connection, I don't imagine that it would change much? It might end up dimming or going dormant somewhat when Ingo loses his memories, but that's because he's not actively aware of having the spark bond anymore. Like, it's there but he just assumed "oh that's just a feeling I have I guess" and doesn't really interact with it. I don't believe distance would change anything, because my understanding of spark bonds is that they're essentially some form of quantum entanglement that happens when you spark merge (or in this case, when one spark splits into two), and quantum entanglements are not affected by distance! :D

So when Ingo and Emmet reunite, Ingo is going to be very overwhelmed by all the sudden positive feedback from Emmet's side of the bond, since he's mostly just felt Emmet's grief and depression for the past while.

Also!!!

I am brainstorming (heh, tf pun) names for the boys! My wife, my beloved @bwans-art, attempted to help me with names, but alas, my self-imposed rules prevented me from picking any of her suggestions XD

Said rules are that their names have to have the same meaning as what their actual names are intended to mean/reference. Going based off of the common themes from the English (Ingo = ingoing, Emmet = emit), German (Hin = back, Her = forth), and Japanese (Nobori = up-train, Kudari = down-train), I've distilled the meaning down to Ingo being "to return to" and Emmet being "to go out from".

I'm thinking that I might go with Arrive and Depart being their mech names? Or at least being the most common English translation of their Neocybexian names (as Neocybex is not an actual language that exists I cannot give them names from that XD)

This also opens the door for entertaining miscommunication, such as Emmet's translation software not figuring out how to differentiate that he's saying his name, so he is just stuck saying "I am leaving" repeatedly throughout his speech instead of "I am Depart".

Also, Emmet calling for Ingo could potentially just be translated as him yelling "COME BACK" over and over.

"I am Depart. You are Arrive." -> "I am leaving. You are coming back."

[fanofstuff01]

Paul: But sir-

Lucifer: I don’t want to hear any objections! Do what I said, that’s an order!

All the soldiers got how serious he was. Lucifer barely ever treated any of them as actual soldiers he gave orders to.

All: Understood sir.

And with that they left as quick as possible.

Lucifer took his head in his hand as he took out a cigarette with the other, this was too much. First Adam gets shot, and now kidnapped?

No matter what he says he’s going to make him not work anymore.

And no matter who this was, he was going to have their heads.

-

Adam jolted awake from his nightmare when someone kicked his stomach with all his might. He felt the weakest he’ss ever been and could barely even look at who did it when the pain came.

Oh. Vox. How wonderful.

Vox: Wake up, guard dog. Feeding time.

Adam: H-huh…?

Vox rolled his eyes: You know what, never mind. I’m not going to fucking feed you anyway.

Feed him? What?

He winced when a piece of bread was thrown to his head. Oh.

Vox: There. You should be in best condition if your owner comes to pick you up right?

Adam couldn’t see him, but he almost heard his smirk.

He grew up with Lucifer after all..

Future Evesworld Au @fanofstuff01

Why Adam actually went into retirement way early.

Alastor shot him in the hip and knee, but he also kidnapped him. Even though he didn't know that Adam and Lucifer were married he knew that Adam was his lieutenant and best soldier.

So he, kind of stupidly, takes Adam back to the base to be locked in the basement.

-

Adam's right side hurt so fucking much, his hip and knee throbbed with pain and bled soiling his pants.

Alastor chained Adam to the wall, luckily though, Adams visor was recording so even if all that was found was his body, Lucifer would see where their base was.

Adam: He'll fucking kill you for this.

Alastor: Hmm, he'll kill me anyway.

He kicked Adam in the stomach before turning away.

Alastor: Maybe I'll rip that visor from your face and send it back to him. Should really send a message to him.

Adam glared, he couldn't wait to see that fucker get shot between his fucking beedy eyes. Once he was gone Adam did the one thing that he thought he would never do. He wouldn't have done it but he was hurt badly and who knows how close to death he is.

He turned on the visors tracking monitor so that his husband could find him.

Adam hopes it's soon, he feels lightheaded........

[phioneplatinum]

Listen, now, I don't usually post stuff like this. I really don't! But I'm not gonna stand aside and watch multiple dreams, hopes, and futures shattered. I've done what I've could, and you should too! Does it disturb me? Yes! Yes it does! It disturbs everyone, and the fact people are willing to destroy these futures is just. Fucked up! So I'm not just gonna sit there in my chair and pretend it's not there--thats what THEY want. Turn that disgust into anger. A fighting spirit. For those left scared and alone in the dark.

Put aside the fixations for now. People on the other side needs our voice--they have no way to speak up. I don't care if I lose followers from this-this is one of the most impactful things I can do. People need our help-and we need to help them any way we can. Reblogs, posts, signatures! Anything can help, as long as it gives those people lost and scared for their lives another tomorrow. As long as people KNOW you care about what's going on.

Again, put aside the fixations. We have the power to give those without a voice, those who are unable to fight, those who are scared as to what's gonna happen a VOICE. And if you're going to ignore this, just because YOU'RE uncomfortable with it? Just block me and call it a day. Simple as that.

It's sickening how people can just support other people shattering the dreams and futures of the next generation.

I've done what I could, now YOU should do what you can do too. I won't be posting for a while, especially with what's going on.

Save the dreams and aspirations of the future. Let our voices be heard. Please. I know I don't usually post like this, but please.

Even something as small as a reblog will do. To spread awareness.

That's all. Take care, and please remember to help those who are lost and scared in the darkness. I'll be back with my usual energy later. But right now, people need our help.

[hellinhawkins]

hey! sometimes it’s not necessary to share your opinion <3

[cephalog0d]

Okay, but like. There's the whole joke about Bruce recruiting children to be his sidekicks, but honestly there's only really one that fits that.

And it's Jason. And the whole story there is, frankly, unhinged. Aaaaand then he died.

(I'm specifically talking about "first post-crisis origin stories" here because Jason and Dick, in particular, have both had multiple major retcons and revisions over the years, and some of them dramatically change how things happened.)

Like okay. Going backwards, you've got Duke who joined/led a whole Robin-based gang at a time when Bruce wasn't even Batman. You've got Damian and Cass, who were both literally born into the world of masks and capes and heroes and villains, so they weren't ever really not going to be part of it. Steph might have taken inspiration from previous heroes but she made her own identity and repeatedly refused to stop involving herself in the vigilante lifestyle. Tim, obviously, basically strong-armed Batman into letting him be Robin, despite Batman's protests.

Dick's a little more complicated just because there's so many versions, because that's what 80 years of comics and multiple universe reboots will do, and there's kind of a general trend that earlier pre-crisis versions were more of Batman being like "hello, child, would you like to be my sidekick" and later versions have leaned harder and harder into the idea that Dick was absolutely going to do this anyway, regardless of what Batman had to say about it. But even in the first post-crisis version, the flashback in Batman Year 3, Dick says he wants to find a way to keep people like that from hurting others again. When Alfred questions Bruce's offer to train him, Bruce says that Dick should learn to do things the right way if he's going to do it. It's not hard to extrapolate that, much like later versions of the origin story, Dick was going to get himself into this one way or another. (Batman (1940) #437)

And then there's Jason. Whose backstory has also had a lot of (sometimes major) revisions over the years (remember when his adoption was, like, some kind of Joker-originated long con? Fucken Nu52, man). But the original post-crisis version is pretty straightforward. Steals Batman's tires, gets caught and sent to Ma Gunn's Secret Criminal School, intervenes when Batman goes to investigate, immediately gets offered the chance to be Robin based entirely on that.

Which is itself kind of unhinged. That Bruce saw this kid who was living on his own stealing tires and went "Hey you would make a good Robin" as his very first instinct.

But if you've never read Jason's post-crisis origin, or it's been a while, it's honestly even more unhinged than that because that arc starts with Dick getting "fired" as Robin specifically for the reason that he got shot by Joker and Bruce freaked out about how the Robin identity has too many enemies and therefore Dick, a legal adult with approximately a decade of training and experience, should not use the identity anymore.

(And it's specifically about the Robin identity, in this version, because when Dick says he's not going to stop the crime fighting thing Bruce's response is basically "I know and I didn't expect you to". Honestly I could also say a lot about this version of the Robin/Nightwing transition vs. later ones and how this one definitely feels like the Heavy Hand of DC Editorial in the fact that they had no contact for so long afterwards, because the interaction really doesn't feel like it warrants that in this case compared to some later versions, but that's a whole other too-long ramble.) (Batman (1940) #408)

And then a few weeks later Bruce turns around and picks up a random kid, a literal child, and goes "Hey you would make a good Robin!"

And I think a lot about how fucking wild that is. And it's not like the people writing just didn't notice. Dick's big argument with Bruce when he finally comes back to Gotham and meets Jason isn't about the fact that Bruce took in another kid, or even necessarily about Dick feeling proprietary over the Robin identity, the thing he's angry about is that Bruce said it was too dangerous for him, an adult, someone who has trained with Batman for a decade and was already highly physically trained before that for his whole life, to be Robin, and now Bruce has turned around and painted that target onto some random new kid. He pushes, repeatedly, trying to get Bruce to justify himself and this absolutely irresponsible decision, and Bruce gives a lot of answers about how Jason was on a bad path and needed this outlet and eventually just admits that he missed having a partner. (Batman (1940) #416)

And like. Dick's right, is the thing. He is 1000% in the right in this argument. If he can't be Robin anymore because of the danger, how in the hell is it anything like a good idea to hand it over to someone way younger, way less trained, way less experienced, and expect that that wouldn't end in tragedy?

And then it did.

And yeah, Bruce, it is kinda a lot of your fault.

[conkreetmonkey]

yk what. Maybe I will hop on the trend and take a break from American political news for a while. I don't even live there so it won't affect me, unless it does in which case Canadian news outlets will report on it. I trust my muties will let me know if the shit really hits the fan. There's no way I won't hear, anyway, my housemates are all pretty into the news anyway. I really don't stand to benefit from any of it, and in the situations where I genuinely need to be informed of something, I'll still find out. All it'll do is make me upset, and I really don't need that in my life rn. thx @gummy-worms-in-my-brain for suggesting it last night. I thought about what you said, and you were right, so. Blocking some tags, setting up some filters, all that jazz.

[dullahandyke]

Like I'm not World's Number One Slave Labour And Job Insecurity Lover there's very obvious criticism to be made of it but some of u guys see the acronym 'AI' and start foaming at the mouth. Misinformation is at the forefront of issues with mass-implementation of 'AI' so it's kind of galling to see people go red light ready to believe anything as long as it appeals to their pathos

[anxiously-sidequesting]

To me personally malistaire is the funniest and most pathetic villain wizard101 has ever had AND I MEAN THAT SINCERELY!!! Between doomed children who have been manipulated, groomed, and isolated into becoming products of their environments, someone scorned who has been punished unfairly by having your biological heart torn out your chest and turning your children and all of reality against you to satiate their own ego, a nonhuman entity so powerful and so clueless they unintentionally threaten the lives of everyone around them, Malistaire FELL DOWN BRO. Like yeah you're bitchless now. You and me both. Get in line. Everyone in this room is bitchless. We are ALL living that ✨💅🏾💃🕺 Single Life™. You are a middle-aged man. Cope

[calsvoid]

“ooh free fanfiction” i say, while getting into rpf, as if fanfiction is not already free and legally has to be

[sweet-star-cookie]

so i finished the teal mask dlc

[acedavestrider]

does anyone have any advice on how to feel alive again

[hkpika07]

Fav sea creature from the midnight zone?

NOOOOOO THERES SO MANY COOL ONES YOU CANT MAKE ME CHOOSEEE

Some of my faves are the gulper eel, vampire squid, barreleye, blood comb jellies, the ghost shark aka the chimera shark, dumbo octopus, I think the glass octopus lives in the midnight zone. uhhhhhh theres more but i cant think rn.

Anyways the deep ocean is my favorite part of the ocean I love it its so cool and has so many cool guys. Like tripod fish those fuckers. I love them.

Go visit Monterey Bay Aquarium they have an exhibit on the deep ocean!!!