#w two worlds headers

[itsprashimusic]

Maybe Leave The Cooking To Me

Summary - You love to cook, and Lando loves to help, but this time it goes sideways.

Pairings - Lando Norris x fem!Reader

Warnings - minor injury, reader has good relationship with parents, reader is same age as Lando, fluffy.

W/C - 1.4k

A/N - my first fic for f1 lets gooo Happy reading<3

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 It was the end of a triple header meaning that now you had a break you were craving. The Monday meetings were done with, you and Lando were on the flight back to your Monaco apartment. The exhaustion caught up with you and the both of you were out within seconds of your heads hitting your pillows. 

It was now a Tuesday night. There was some music playing in the living room, Lando was somewhere in the house, and you were in the kitchen. You wouldn’t call yourself a chef, but you loved to cook and learn new recipes. Travelling the world with Lando made it so that you would not get to cook very often, so when you did get to cook you would take the chance.

You sat on the counter contemplating what to cook. Before you shifted to Monaco your mom had written out a recipe book for you with all different kinds of recipes which she had found and curated to your and your family's taste and liking. So you sat on the counter, reading through the fat book.

"Babe, what do you wanna eat?" you yelled to Lando, your eyes still focused on the book. You didn't get a reply, but 5 seconds later he walked into the kitchen. "I'm not really sure," he said while walking up to you. He walked in between your legs and tilted the book in your hands so that he could read it.

"Oo, how about spaghetti? You always say how you wanted to make it." He said and pointed to it. "By that I meant making it from scratch. It is too late to do that." you reply and turn the page.

"Then just boil the spaghetti we have and make the sauce." The excitement in your eyes when you heard him say that made him chuckle. You got off the counter and began rummaging around the kitchen looking for all the ingredients. "Red sauce?" "Red sauce" he confirms. You get out the tomatoes, chillies, garlic, herbs and spices while Lando takes out the spaghetti.

You give him the simple task of watching the pasta boil and reminding you when it was 20 minutes. He dutifully did his task and even drained the water and left the spaghetti in the colander. It was getting late and the two of you were growing hungrier, but knew that the food would be worth the wait.

While waiting for the boiled tomatoes to cool you were cutting some onions and garlic. "Can you get the grinder out?" you asked Lando. He was a bit deep in thought, so only hummed before retrieving the asked for item. "What are you thinking about?" "I could've overtaken Russel at turn 14." he said.

"Baby, it's ok," you abandoned the half cut onions and wiped your hands. You walked over to Lando and gently made him look at you, "Could you have done something then? Yes. Can you do anything about it now? No. It's no use dwelling on something that can't be changed. The best you can make of it, is to be aware of it and try and avoid repeating it in the future. Hmm?" you hummed at the end with a nod. Lando looked at you and nodded along.

To get his mind off of the last race you got him to make good use of his muscles and crush some dried chillies. The cooking went on. You peeled the tomatoes, put them in the grinder and set up the wok on the stove. Lando was slicing some pieces of soft chicken which he wanted you to add in the sauce.

The sauce was half ready when you turned the gas off and went to the sink to wash your hands. "Is it done?" he asked you. 'No' you told him and dried your hands, "It still has some chunks which didn't get ground." This is where your casual Tuesday night took a turn.

Lando, being the muppet he is who can't cook, poured the chunky liquid into the grinder bowl, covered it and put it on the machine. You then faced him and saw what he did. But you did not have enough time to tell him to not do what he was about to do.

He turned the knob and within less than a second the hot tomato sauce spewed out of the bowl and all over you, Lando and your cosy kitchen.

You would expect that a formula 1 driver's quick reflexes would not just be limited to when they are driving. But if you saw the scene inside Lando and his girlfriend's kitchen on a Tuesday night after a triple header, you would be greeted with quite the opposite. The once clean kitchen was now covered in red food. You and Lando were covered in near-boiling hot pasta sauce.

When the sauce spewed out, Lando's first reaction was to let out a slightly high-pitched scream and you quickly turned the loud nightmare-like-sounding machine off. Neither of you said anything, you just looked around the kitchen, taking in the mess, processing what happened, and slowly registering the pain you felt where the sauce lay on your bare skin.

Thankfully most of the spilt sauce got on your t-shirts and not on either of your faces, but some did reach your arms. Lando was the first to say something "Ow, that hurts, that's-that's starting to burn, ouch." Without wasting much time, you grabbed his arm and took him to the bathroom. You turned the shower on, "keep your arm under the water. Do. Not. Move."

You went to the sink and shed your tomato-covered top and left it there. You got Lando to do the same and then joined him by putting your own, now slightly burnt, arms under the spray of cold water. "Baby, why did you start the grinder with a hot liquid inside of it?" you asked him, your voice soft and full of concern, "I'm not mad, just wanna know why."

"You said you had to grind it." His voice sounded broken, you wanted to hug him tight and never let go. "Lan, you have to wait till it has cooled down. The steam inside created pressure which caused the lid to pop open and the sauce to scatter everywhere." He just gave a quiet 'oh' in response.

"How much of your arm got burnt?" you asked and he showed you the parts which hurt. You left the bathroom and came back with two handkerchiefs and ice packs. With the help of rubber bands you secured the ice packs to his forearms. "Where are you going?" he asked when the two of you changed your clothes.

"To clean the kitchen and salvage whatever is left of the sauce."

"Let me help, please."

How could you say no to that face he was making? After some back and forth he got you to also attach an ice pack to your forearm. you grumbled but nevertheless allowed him to take care of you.

You both clean in silence. He cleaned the counter, cupboards and the grinder while you cleaned up the floor where most of the sauce got. 10 minutes later the now salvaged sauce was on the gas with the chicken in and almost ready to eat.

Lando got out two plates and served you both some spaghetti. Your stomach rumbled, which made him giggle. The two of you quickly began laughing. Some people process and handle things by crying, some yell, some throw things around the house and some just sit in silence and wallow and wither away. But you had a different way of coping with emotions and stress. By laughing. That was one thing you and your boyfriend had in common. You both would laugh to process things.

It was kind of the reason the two of you got together in the first place.

Soon the sauce was ready and was severed. You both took your plates and forks and sat on the couch, something ready to play on the TV. The ice packs had come off by then, but Lando insisted on wrapping the cold napkin around the red part of your hand which was not covered in ice earlier.

He finished wrapping your arm and you leaned forward to kiss his nose. Before you could reach though, his lips caught yours in a short but sweet kiss. You both ate your spaghetti and watched what was playing on the TV, occasionally making comments about it here and there.

"Babe"

"Yea?"

"Next time, maybe leave cooking to me?"

"I’m with you a 100 percent on that one" 

A/N - this fic came to be because I read a lando fic where reader was eating chicken pasta and decided to cook spaghetti for the first time and ended up burning myself(dw i'm fine, the burn was very minor)

Hope you enjoyed reading<3

[meazalykov]

nationality switch

esmee brugts x uswnt!dutch!reader

summary: choosing a national team almost made you drift away from the person you love most

warnings: angst

it’s been a long time since you’ve seen esmee, since that fight—since everything changed. 

you’re sitting in the corner of a cozy café in barcelona, sipping your iced coffee, lost in your thoughts about how things used to be. the only noise around you is the coffee machines brewing or the ovens beeping in the background of your thoughts.

you never expected to see her today. you thought she moved to arsenal in london. a club that she mentioned her interest in. but then again, nothing with esmee ever goes as planned.

the bell above the café door chimes, and you look over at the door on instinct. when you see her, your stomach flips. is that her? you had to do a double take.

it is esmee. her eyes lock on yours instantly, and for a second, it’s like no time has passed. the familiarity, the memories, all come rushing back. you miss her, but the weight of your last conversation—the fight—hangs heavily between you both.

you don’t move. you don’t know if you should, and maybe she doesn’t either, because she hesitates before walking over. you freeze before you see her stop at the counter.

you took a deep breath before she gets her flat white and walks over.

when she finally reaches your table, you see that same spark in her eyes, but there’s something else now. something different.

“hey,” she says, her voice soft, almost tentative, as if she’s afraid of how you’ll respond.

you raise an eyebrow, trying to keep things light. 

“esmee, how did you even find me?”

she offers a small smile, a little suspicious. 

“we never turned off each other’s locations on our phones.”

that breaks the tension for a moment, and you can’t help but laugh. 

it’s such a typical esmee thing to say. well for you, as someone who is the closest to her. she never fails to make a heavy moment become lighter. you shake your head at the absurdity of it all. 

“of course.”

she sits down across from you at the wooden table, and suddenly, the reality of everything hits. you’re both here in barcelona. after all this time, all the distance, somehow, fate—or maybe something else—has pulled you back together. 

it feels like you’re supposed to be here, like you were always meant to end up on the same team again. it hasn't been too long since you were both at psv. your contracts ended at the same time and you had a bad feeling that it would've been your last time together.

it wasn't.

“so…” esmee starts, her fingers fiddling with the edge of the napkin in front of her. “i heard the news.”

you nod slowly. “yeah. barca. i guess it was inevitable, huh?”

“inevitable,” she echoes, her gaze dropping to the table before lifting back to meet yours. 

“we were always supposed to end up here together, it was our dream.”

the silence stretches between you both, and it’s not uncomfortable, but it’s heavy. there’s so much unsaid, and you know it. she knows it. 

the past months have been complicated. after the women’s world cup, after that game against the netherlands where you scored that header, after you told her that you weren't going to represent the netherlands on the senior level, things between you two were…different.

“you were mad,” you say softly, cutting through the silence.

her eyes darken slightly, and she nods, not bothering to deny it. “yeah, i was.”

“because I celebrated my goal?”

“because it felt like you were celebrating more than just a goal,” she admits. 

“it felt like you were celebrating the fact that you chose them over us. over me.”

throwback to july 26th, 2023

it’s the 62nd minute, and the game between the u.s and the netherlands is 0-1. the tension is suffocating—this isn’t just any group stage match. 

it’s a battle between two teams who were in the finals of the last world cup. the netherlands want revenge.

for you, it’s personal. you are dutch and american. your mother was born and raised in eindhoven, while your dad is an american who studied there then met your mother.

while growing up, you considered yourself to be dutch. you never lived in the united states. however, you've wondered what it was like to live over there.

at the age of 8 you met your bestfriend, esmee, at a soccer club. the both of you grew up, joined psv together, and played for the dutch youth teams together.

when your father expressed how he wanted you to chose the uswnt when you reached the senior level, you didn't count him out. the team was the best in the world.

the 2019 world cup solidified your decision to represent your father's side of the family. however, sometimes you think about the other world where you chose the dutch team instead of the americans.

you jog back to your position for a corner kick being taken by rose lavelle, feeling the weight of the moment settle on your shoulders. 

your heart pounds in your chest, and as you glance toward the dutch goal, your eyes flicker briefly to the orange clad figure on the left. esmee. 

she’s looks at you briefly, her expression unreadable. for a split second, it’s like time slows down. you remember the late nights practicing at psv, the laughter, the way she used to tell you that you’d both dominate the world together one day.

now, you’re on opposing sides, thanks to you choosing your other nationality.

the whistle blows. you snap back to the present, focusing on the corner being taken. 

the ball soars through the air, heading toward the front post. you leap, eyes locked on the ball, and your timing is perfect. you rise above the defenders, connecting with the ball in a powerful header that rockets past the dutch goalkeeper.

goal!

for a moment, the world stops. then the noise of the crowd hits you like a wave, and you’re running, arms outstretched in celebration. your teammates swarm around you, shouting, grabbing your jersey, jumping on your back. 

you can hear julie yelling for you and lindsey clapping you on the back with a proud grin. it’s chaos—pure joy, adrenaline, and pride.

but as you slow down, turning back toward midfield, your eyes find esmee again. 

she’s standing there, watching, her expression unreadable at first. in the moment that you look away before turning back, you see it: the hurt. the disbelief. you know it’s not just about the goal. it’s about everything else.

you swallow the lump forming in your throat and try to focus on your teammates still celebrating around you, but esmee’s look is burned into your mind. 

she goes back on the left-back then stands, her hands clenched into fists by her sides, it looks as if she’s frozen. you see her teammates—players you grew up with on youth teams—pat her on the back, but it’s clear she’s not hearing them.

it’s the celebration that did it. you know it. the way you threw your fists in the air, the way you smiled at your teammates like this goal was everything. 

to esmee, it wasn’t just a goal against the netherlands. it was a statement, a reminder that you chose the united states over the netherlands, over her.

as the game resumes, you push the thought to the back of your mind. you have to stay focused. there’s still time left, and the dutch team isn’t going to back down easily. but every time you glance in esmee’s direction, it stings. 

you see the frustration in her movements, the way she presses forward with even more intensity than before. she’s angry—at you, at the situation—and it shows.

the game ends and its tied. the rest of her team is exhausted, but she doesn’t even wait for the usual post-match handshakes and shirt swaps. she walks straight down the tunnel, disappearing from view, and a pit forms in your stomach.

you want to go after her, explain that the celebration wasn’t meant to hurt her. but deep down, you know this moment has been building for a long time. 

the decision to play for the united states on the senior level, the arguments, the silence between you two—it’s all led to this. 

in the locker room, your teammates are quiet, they’re focused on the next match. 

your thoughts are stuck on esmee. you stare down at your phone, wondering if you should text her, try to explain. but what could you say? what could make this better?

back to the barcelona cafe, a month later

you blink, taken aback by the raw honesty in her words. 

you’ve had months to think about it—about what it meant when you chose to play for the uswnt, about how your dad had always pushed you to follow in his footsteps. but you didn’t think esmee would take it this personally.

“esmee, it wasn’t about that,” you say, voice soft, almost pleading.

“you know it wasn’t like that.”

it was your first goal for the national team. it happened to be against your other country, the other country that wanted you to play for them too. 

your mother is dutch, and your father is american– so you had a tough decision to make.

esmee shakes her head, and for a moment, you think she’s going to argue. but then she sighs, leaning back in her chair. 

“i know. but it hurt. i wanted you to play with me and for the oranje. i wanted us to play together, like we always did in eindhoven. and then, when you celebrated after that goal…it felt like you’d forgotten everything we’d had.”

“i didn’t forget. i could never forget,” you say, and it’s the truth. you haven’t forgotten a single moment. 

“but esmee, you know how much my dad wanted this for me.” 

“i know,” she whispers, and there’s pain in her voice. 

“but i wanted you to want the same things i did. i wanted you to choose me.”

her words hit you hard, and for a second, you can’t respond. this is about more than just football, more than just a decision you had to make when choosing a national team. 

it’s about the two of you—about what you’ve meant to each other all these years.

“esmee,” you start, leaning forward, trying to make her understand. “it wasn’t about choosing them over you. you mean everything to me. i-i didn’t even realize—”

“that’s the thing,” she interrupts, her voice trembling slightly. 

“i was upset because i always want to be around you. it was selfish, maybe, but it’s the truth. i thought…i thought i was going to lose you when you chose them. what if you didn’t choose to come to barcelona? what if i didn’t? we wouldn’t see each other anymore..”

you frown, confused. “esmee, you’re never going to lose me. what are you talking about?”

she bites her lip, her eyes searching yours, and suddenly, it’s like all the walls she’s built up come crashing down. her hands stop gripping on her coffe cup and goes to gently hold your right hand instead. 

you froze.

“i’m talking about how i feel about you,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. 

you feel your heart skip a beat, and for some reason, her confession doesn’t surprise you. 

it’s like you always knew, like a part of you had been waiting for her to say it out loud. she’s been your best friend for years, but deep down, maybe you always knew there was something more.

the left-back never made her crush on you a hidden secret. she was never outright, but her actions towards you spoke for itself. 

“es…” you start, but you don’t know what to say. so instead, you reach across the table, gently taking your other hand and holding hers.

she looks at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable, like she’s terrified of what you’ll say next.

“i like you too,” you say softly, your thumb brushing over the back of her hand. 

“i think i always have.”

her eyes widen even more, but there’s a soft smile playing on her lips now. 

“really?”

you nod, giving her a small smile in return. “yeah. really.”

you stand up slowly, moving around the table, and she doesn’t pull away when you lean down and press a soft kiss to her forehead. 

it feels right and natural, like something you should’ve done a long time ago. you wanted to, but you didn't know how she felt about you then.

nobody was present in the cafe instead of the barista who was too focused on making drinks, so you didn’t feel embarrassed to kiss her.

when you pull back, esmee smiling up at you, and for the first time in months, you feel like things between you two might finally be okay.

“so…barcelona, huh?” you say, trying to lighten the mood.

esmee laughs, that familiar sound you’ve missed so much. “yeah. looks like we’re stuck together again.”

you grin, squeezing her hand gently. “good. i wouldn’t want it any other way.”

my masterlist is here if you want to read more!

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Wearing His Clothes » 40s Bucky Barnes

Week of October 13th-19th

Pairings: Boyfriend!40s Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Your clothes get wet from the rain so Bucky lets you wear his clothes.

Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, pet names

Written in my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

Halloween divider made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“Get inside before you get sick, doll.” Bucky says, holding the door open for you.

You ran inside his house, your dress and hair soaking wet. Bucky came in behind you, closing the door behind him. His clothes and hair were soaking wet too.

“My dress is wet.” You say, pouting and looking down at your soaked dress.

“That’s ok, doll. I have something for you to wear.” He says with a smile.

Bucky took your hand and led you to his bedroom. He rummaged through his closet, looking for something for you to wear. He found a light blue button up shirt you got him for yours and his 6 month anniversary. He took it off the hanger and handed it to you.

“This is the shirt I got you for our 6 month anniversary.” You point out.

“I know.” Bucky smiles. “You can wear it.” He says softly.

You smile at him before taking off your wet dress and put on his light blue button up shirt. Bucky took off his wet clothes and put on a pair of sweatpants and no shirt.

“I’ll wash your dress for you, babydoll.” He says.

“Thank you, sweetie.” You say, kissing his cheek.

“You’re welcome, doll face.” He smiles back.

You sat on his bed and patiently waited for him to come back. You seen a book on his nightstand he’s been currently reading and reached for it. You opened the book on the page he left off on.

“You called me a nerd for reading this book and I catch you reading it.” Bucky says, walking in his room.

“That doesn’t mean I’m a nerd.” You say, playfully narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend.

Bucky chuckles and took the book from you, tossing it on his bed. You stood up from his bed, standing on your tippy toes to peck his lips.

“You look better in this shirt than I do.” He says, rubbing his hands up and down your sides.

You hummed in response, nudging your nose against his.

“Let’s go to the kitchen and look for something to eat.” He says.

“You read my mind, Bucky Bear.” You say.

You and Bucky walked hand and hand to the kitchen. You and Bucky rummaged through the kitchen for snacks.

“I found cookies!” You announced, holding a container of chocolate chip cookies.

“Those are Rebecca’s.” He says.

“She won’t mind if we eat a couple.” You say, opening the container.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders and ate one. You leaned against the counter gazing at Bucky. Bucky caught you looking at him.

“You’re staring, doll.” He says.

“I am not.” You said.

“Then why are you looking at me?” He asks.

“I’m admiring how handsome my boyfriend is.” You say flirtatiously.

“Oh yea?” Bucky caged you in between his body and the kitchen counter. “I think I have the most gorgeous girlfriend in the world.” He almost whispers.

Bucky dipped his head down, kissing you passionately. You reached your hands up to run your fingers through his damp hair. He rose a hand up to your cheek, caressing it gently and rubbing his thumb against your skin. His free hand found its place on your hip. His lips felt so soft against yours. His lips moved in sync with yours.

You two were so into the kiss that you guys didn’t hear his mom and his sister walk in the kitchen. Bucky’s mom cleared her throat, making you two jump and separate from each other. Yours and Bucky’s faces turned red in embarrassment when you two seen his mom and his sister standing there. You tugged at the bottom of Bucky’s shirt to make sure your ass is covered up and your panties weren’t exposed.

“Hi, mom. Hi Rebecca.” Bucky says.

“James… Y/N…” Mrs. Barnes says.

You felt your cheeks heat up when Bucky’s mom seen you wearing Bucky’s shirt. What parent wants to see their son’s girlfriend wearing his shirt with no pants?

“The rain got my dress wet and Bucky let me wear one of his shirts.” You tell her truthfully. “He’s even washing my dress as we speak.” You added.

“It’s ok, Y/N.” She smiles at you. “Just don’t do whatever I think you two are going to do in the kitchen.” She says more to Bucky before walking out of the kitchen.

Bucky’s face was as red as a tomato and he cleared his throat in embarrassment. Rebecca walks towards you and Bucky, snatching her container of cookies off the counter.

“These are mine.” Rebecca says, narrowing her eyes at her brother.

You giggled and Bucky rolled his eyes at his sister.

“Use protection!” She shouts, walking out of the kitchen with her container of cookies.

Bucky groans loudly and leaned his head against the top of your head. To save yourselves from more embarrassment, you two were back to his bedroom to cuddle.

“I’m sorry if my mom and sister embarrassed you.” Bucky apologizes, wrapping his arms around you.

“They didn’t.” You replied. “I was a little embarrassed when your mom seen me wearing your shirt.” You admitted.

“Yea…” He chuckles lightly. “That was pretty embarrassing.” He agrees.

You couldn’t help but hide your face against his bare chest in embarrassment at the thought of his mom seeing you in only Bucky’s shirt and a pair of panties.

“Don’t hide that pretty face.” He coos.

You blushed before lifting your head to look up at him, smiling at him.

“If it means anything, you look drop dead gorgeous in my clothes.” Bucky says flirtatiously.

You giggled and pecked his lips softly. You snuggled yourself against Bucky and laid your head on his chest. Bucky readjusted the blankets to make sure you have enough and you’re warm.

“Goodnight, Bucky. I love you.” You say sleepily.

“Goodnight, doll. I love you too.” He almost whispers, kissing the top of your head.

-Bucky’s Doll

[vagabond-umlaut]

tempest in a teapot

gojo finds nothing more delightful than seeing your annoyed frown in the middle of a storm— why should he need the sun to break through the gloomy clouds, when you're right there in front of him, huh?

teen!gojo x fem!reader; fluffy & not-very-lwk sappy [xDD]; lovesick gojo; realisation of feelings; gojo loves you— you're compelled to tolerate him; he is sort of... obsessed w you but not in the toxic way yet; implied bullying [gojo isn't involved!!]; he wants to be your knight in shining armour sooo baddd; 'one-sided enemies to lovers'; 2.5k wc

belongs to the series 'fictitious force' but can be read as a stand-alone if you wanna!

header frm pinterest // divider by @/isisjupiter // jjk isn't mine

gojo believes, there exist two kinds of people.

one, those who aren't but love to pretend being better than everyone else— and two, those who aren't but will do anything to be viewed as the worst in the world— the second category housing no one except you—

tingles dancing behind his ribs, down his arms and right to the tips of his fingers, the boy hums when asked why he wishes to meet you out of all the people he could. that too now, the sky darkening from a mix of night and storm— that too, to meet you.

candy crushed between molars, gojo grins.

"let's just say i'm a little curious about her, shall we?"

then pauses, grin mellowing when he finally feels your cursed energy— if his six eyes were working just fine and not fatigued after today's spree of killing curses, maybe he could have known your location too in an instant or so... and not have had to rely on others for that...

the blinding beacon that your cursed signature is, brushes soothingly against his exhausted self— he adds, "also maybe 'cause i'm a little in love with her— she's really sweet, y'know?"

whatever response he might have been expecting, a scoff is definitely not one of them.

utahime makes a face. almost as if she just bit into a lemon... almost as if she doesn't believe gojo can fall in love... almost as if she deems you to be not sweet... that last implication nearly makes him want to throw hands with the girl, opting to ignore the fact that she's shoko's girlfriend—

but he stops when she jabs a thumb to the corridor to the left.

your cursed energy caresses his six eyes gently. something burns at the back of his two eyes. he begs his mind to listen to the directions being given to him. the directions to you!!

"go down this hallway then turn right at the end. she will still be in the gardens—" the rest of the sentence doesn't reach gojo.

nor does anything else, for that matter.

nothing does. except for the steady thump!thump!thump! against his ribs and in his ears. and, of course— how did he even forget this— the lodestar your brilliance is to his too impatient self, too stumbling feet, this squally evening as he skids past empty hallways...

your smile is the first thing the boy notices.

so sweet. so sweet. it is the sweetest thing gojo reckons to have ever seen in his life. the pretty little smile carving your lips and illuminating your equally lovely face, as you lie on your stomach on the grass. legs swaying with the wind. gaze dancing over the fluttering pages—

everything changes in a beat— or perhaps even less than that— with your eyes no longer on the book.

they are on him. drowning him. suffocating him. squeezing whatever infinitesimal life left in him after the past three days' missions. taking every bit of who he is, all for themselves to glare at so sweetly.

your pretty little smile falls into an adorable frown. "why are you here, senpai?"

"why am i here?" he echoes your query. your frown deepens. he grins, brushing his bangs away out of his view. "to see you, of course!! mind if i take a seat beside you?"

you do mind. gojo knows, yet doesn't find a fault in you minding him so— shutting your book, you don't waste an extra second to move to sit upright. nor to scoot away when the boy takes your absence of an answer as an invitation to plop down onto the grass.

your scowl stays unfazed, gojo watches, heart lurching and tumbling. falling onto his back, he shifts to lie on his side, an elbow propped up to support his head. and hums.

"why do you look so mad, sweet—"

"please don't call me by such terms," you cut him off, sharp and terse, "and please don't pretend you don't know why i'm mad— acting like a fool doesn't suit you."

"acting like a fool doesn't suit you either, darling," the boy replies, not borrowing even a moment to mull over his words. it's honestly so like playing with fire... arguing with you, that is. but he is nothing if not an extremely devoted lover of danger, so he will keep doing whatever he is doing now— plus, don't the two of you seem so 'married couple'-y right now, huh?

he continues— not disturbed, rather delighted by how your features tighten and stiffen. eyes narrowing a touch. lips pursed a pinch— he wonders if you know how much you're endearing yourself to him the longer you keep looking at him that way—

he allows his grin to simmer down to a sly twist of lips.

"but i'm not going to question that... your love for your family is pretty cool—" not really. gojo finds it boring at best, and stupid at worst. but since it's you... he tries to deem it as neither. "— so whatever amazing plan you've concocted: pretending to be weak, so you aren't sent to a mission, so you have a 100% chance of staying alive anddd your dear family doesn't have to get sad—"

"why are you here, senpai?"

obviously, to see you, silly!!

— is what gojo should say. is what gojo wants to say. but he finds his tongue numb and unmoving. rendered useless by the sight you, your cursed energy, both have become...

if you were a fire before, you're nothing less than a solar flare now.

and the boy loves it. his six eyes love it. the boy loves you—

your brows gather close. his stomach does a flip. your voice assumes an adorably serious tone. "you didn't come here to ask me out, again, did you, senpai?"

did he?

oh, gojo doesn't really know.

maybe he did... he does want to take you to his favourite restaurants. but maybe he didn't... seeing you has been the only thing on his mind ever since he was informed of his mission being in otsu, shiga.

only fifteen kilometres away from the kyoto jujutsu tech— you don't allow him to utter a single syllable in reply, however. gojo wonders if this is how all your future arguments will be like— he decides it's not that bad.

not when you lean a little towards him. gaze narrowed. tone earnest.

"look— i know keeping another's secrets is a big deal, and some folks need some sort of... uh, reward for that— but how about this? instead of me going out on a date with you, why don't i buy you a box of them gourmet chocolates? or, a ticket to your favorite band's concert? or, a gift voucher of your favorite clothing store— this is better, isn't it?"

better... it would have been... if only he was dead set on making you reward him, as you oh so eloquently put it, for keeping your secrets.

but the thing is, he isn't. the boy doesn't want any sort of silly reward from you— he just wants to take you out on a date. always has, since his eyes met yours few weeks ago and he felt something strange and sweet unfurl within his chest—

making it seem like a payment for him shutting his mouth about you, was only a tactic. a very cheap tactic, the boy chides himself, looking at the worry etched into the dip of your lips.

slipping his shades off, he sits up. and offers a tiny smile. it feels... too weird... too soft on his lips.

"you do know who you're talking to, don't you?"

it takes you a while to reply. throwing back a question of your own. "is this you telling me i can't buy a rich guy's silence, senpai?"

he is. he very much is. but heaven knows why you make it sound this rude— the same as before, you don't stop speaking. not allowing him squeeze a single word in.

"but everyone likes free stuff, don't they? i mean, i'll be buying all that for you, and you won't have to spend even a single yen..." you heave a sigh. so minute, he almost misses it. but he doesn't 'cause he's pretty much focused his every sense on you—

exhaling yet another sigh, you ask, "don't you like freebies, senpai?"

he does. he very much does. even more when you say it that way with your cute little frown and exasperated little tone—

"you're too sweet, y'know?" he breathes out, hoping he sounds just as fond as he feels of you now. extremely likely, forever. "i don't really get why utahime doesn't see you to be so."

you make some sort of a noise then.

it isn't exactly a chuckle... nor is it a snort... it's very cute, nonetheless.

you hum, "iori-senpai is the kindest out of everyone here. if she thinks i'm not someone sweet... i don't know but doesn't it ring some sort of warning bell inside your head, hm?"

"hell no," gojo mutters in that same instant— a little miffed at how you refer to utahime, a quiet respect lacing every letter you say— not-too-little miffed at the implications behind you calling that sharp-tongued girl the kindest here—

for the first time in your company, the boy feels his lips collapse into a frown.

it's something, he realises you realise too, the way your lips part a tad. in something akin surprise... but not the very pleased kind.

he doesn't really think before adding, "the only bells i can hear when i look at you are—" you frown. he bites his tongue. perhaps... he should think a bit before speaking...

chuckling, he continues as if you did not just shoot his soul a look.

"never mind what i can hear... but the thing is you can never be one who rings warning bells in others' minds— like, hell no!" he repeats. letting some force seep into his syllables. into his unwavering stare, fixed on you. on every minute expression you're making—

he really decides to think, however. softening himself on noting your shaky exhale. your nails digging into the cover of your book— he lets himself borrow a beat before resuming.

forcing his face into a bright grin when he does so.

"feel free to text me the names of those dipshits who have ever made you feel bad, by the way— but don't worry," he adds, the memories of his previous error of ways hitting him in the face.

"i won't ask you out on a date in return for that— i'm just in need of an intensive punching practice, and you will do me a big favour by doing as i asked you to— you will text me, won't ya?"

yeah. no. thank you. fuck you—

you say nothing.

nothing, nothing, nothing at all.

for a very painfully long ten seconds.

during which you do nothing except look at him— just look, that too! neither glare nor gape nor gawk— just a quiet, scarily quiet looking— gojo swears his heart skips a beat when you finally open your mouth.

and inquire, words so slow and soft.

"this isn't some ploy of yours to get my number, right?"

"hey, no—" he rushes to explain. fuming at himself 'cause how the hell did he fuck up this bad again!?!?— but as is the norm, you don't allow him to speak any more than that. cutting him off with yet another one of your queries— except this time, it's not so slow.

and more of a statement than a question, now that he thinks about it— "you did not really tell anyone about my secret in these past weeks, did you?"

no, he didn't. obviously, he didn't.

gojo satoru might be several things, but an intentional villain isn't one of them... something skids across your face when the boy tells you as much— but he finds himself not too sure.

thanks to the lightning streaking across the sky.

and the torrential rains following not an instant late.

and the way your gaze jumps from him to the sky, to the book in your hold— only to come back to his face. wide, unblinking, all-consuming for a scanty moment there—

gojo tries his best not to collapse into the mud when you break into a sprint for cover from the downpour. he tries his best not to follow you as he feels your warmth go farther and farther away. his six eyes gaze at the trail of your addictively bright and hot— and his six eyes aren't talking about just the temperature— cursed energy—

the boy tries his damnedest best not to shout, overwhelmingly happy and relieved as he realises the rapidly reducing distance between him and your cursed signature.

the thud of your sneakers on the cement floor of the building sounds nothing less than the best music the boy's ever heard. or maybe, it is the best music in this whole wide world...

yet another lightning streaks across the sky. he twists himself around just in time to catch the awe-filled look you offer at the sight. features something out of this realm as your eyes trace its path, not even a bit bothered by the deafening thunder that sounds next—

gojo thinks he'll die happy if he dies now.

or maybe he can die later, he changes his stance quickly. on noticing you dash towards him through the mud, face fixed in a deep scowl as you struggle to open an umbrella, and balance a pretty heavy-looking bag off your forearm.

you huff when you reach him.

the boy wonders if it's your finally-open umbrella, or you, who shields him from the numbing cold of the torrential rains—

crouching down before him, you drop the bag into his lap.

and exhale a quiet sigh. his breath catches in his chest when he spies a hint of something... maybe fondness? curling up the corners of your frown, as you speak.

"next time you wanna flirt with someone, try not to do that after your missions— it is very difficult to be mad at a person if they look just a push away from passing out, y'know?"

[no... gojo doesn't really know.

but as he lets you press the handle of the umbrella into his palm— an odd look flittering over your features before you turn on your heel and hurry back into the school building— and his eyes fall on the contents of the bag you've left with him—

cans of green tea. chamomile tea. dark chocolate. biscuits. water—

the boy muses if this is your attempt to buy his silence. by giving him enough food and drinks to prevent him from blacking out from sheer exhaustion while on the train ride back to tokyo...

oh. it's enough for him to not worry 'bout tonight's dinner as well, he tells himself on finding two cups of instant noodles at the bottom of the bag—

gojo smiles.

deciding not only his silence to be yours, but also a part of his heart— albeit... weren't either of them yours to begin with, huh?]

hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️

masterlist

[f1fantasys]

Why Me?

Summary - friends w/ Lando, wanting to be something more. He shuts you out...until he doesn't.

Pairing- lando x fewtrell/reader

Warnings - angst, smut, swearing, p in v, fingering, m and f receiving oral. I'M SORRY, Y'ALL ASKED FOR SMUT BUT I HAD TO THROW IN SOME ANGST!

5.4k words

You had known Lando for as long as you can remember. Being Max's little sister meant that the three of you practically grew up together, even though the two boys were 3 years older than you. Of course, over the years of your friendship with Lando slowly turned into strong, strong, feelings, but you wouldn't dare tell anyone. Not Lando. And sure as hell not Max. Max always made it clear to Lando that you, his little sister, were off limits.

But, who was Max to stop Lando from sending you flirty signals on your last holiday in Ibiza together. God, it honestly was the worst, yet the best holiday you'd been on yet. Lando was absolutely glowing, he'd had an amazing f1 season, and the success made him looking fucking hot. The sexual tension between you and Lando had reached new heights. Stolen glaces, stolen touches, flirty comments - it was all too much, but nothing at all.

Here you were 6 months later, the European races in full swing, meaning you got to tag along with Max to the triple header. The night you got to Barcelona, you found yourself alone on the balcony of your hotel room with Lando. You'd talked about everything and nothing, just catching up on each others lives. When he hugged you goodnight, you watched as his eyes lingered from your eyes to your lips - his own a mere few centimeters away. All he had to do was close the short gap. You longed him to. But he didn't. He pulled away and walked out of your room without saying a word.

The race had been a touch pill to swallow, for Lando especially. So close to another win but just not crossing the line. It hurt to see someone you care about beating himself up, but what you weren't expecting was for him to be so off and cold with you. You more-so than anyone else.

You were currently at the post race dinner that McLaren were hosting. Sat at a table with Max and Pietra, and Lando opposite you. He was obviously upset about the race but he still seemed to be enjoying himself and joking around and chatting with everyone, except you. Every time you said something, or tried to start a conversation with him, he shut you down.

It felt weird to have him act this was towards you, almost as if he didn't want you to even be in his space. By the time you reached the club, you decided to stay away him for a bit. Maybe it was just the stress of the race getting to him. But you won't lie, secretly, it was pulling your heart strings. You hated to be in a position like this.

A few shots and some dancing later, you and Pietra came back to the VIP corner where the boys and a few other drivers were chatting. Of course, there had to be a girl sitting on Lando's lap.

It never got easier seeing him with different girls every weekend, and seeing it in person physically made you feel sick. She was sat on his lap wearing a short dress, so it was to no surprise his fingers were toying with the bottom and trying to get past it.

They were whispering in each others ears, and when Lando saw you, he smirked, then kissed her. Hard and deep.

What the fuck was he playing at, you though to yourself. You knew that he knew there were some sort of feeling involved between the two of you, and for him to play that in-front of you was a low blow.

It took everything in you to hold your tears back, so you pulled Pietra to the bar to down some more shots to try and get the Brit out of your head.

A few minutes later, while you were still standing at the bar, you felt his all too familiar body next to your, eyes staring into yours as if it were the end of the world.

You eventually broke that contact and looked around.

''Where'd your girl disappear to?'' you asked. The alcohol in you giving the confidence to talk. You could see he was about to tease you of some sorts, but you didn't give him a chance to. ''Got enough of you already?'' you asked sarcastically, making a pouty face. His face changed, anger settling in.

''What the fuck y/n. She's gone to the fucking bathroom. At least I know she's gonna come back to me to let me fuck her til she cant walk, unlike you, who can't even get a guy to get in an uber with you, let alone take home for stuff.'' he spat.

You felt like your world stopped. Did Lando really just say that to you?Without realizing you felt a tear slide down your cheek. ''I-I'' you started but he cut you off. ''You what?'' he asked, but you couldn't talk, too afraid to have your voice crack in front of him. ''Yeah, I thought so.'' he said before the girl appeared by his side again, pulling him in for a kiss.

He wrapped his arms around her and looked at you, before walking away.

Just then Max was standing in front of you.

''y/n, fuck, what's wrong?'' he asked. You could see Lando watching and listening from where he was.

''I-nothing, too much to drink. Can we leave please?'' you said through glossy eyes.

''Of course, let's go'' he said, pulling both you and Pietra by the hand. You all walked up to Lando so Max could tell him you guys were leaving. Lando all the while looking at you only, murmured ''yeah whatever, I'm staying.''

The look he was giving you was heartbreakingly awful. You couldn't believe it was him who was literally throwing daggers at you and your heart, knowingly. You couldn't help but start sobbing the more you thought of it. So Max dragged you out the club and back to the hotel.

It was needless to say you couldn't sleep that night, and when you finally made it for breakfast in the morning, he was there, with her.

You tried to keep your distance, the both of you not even acknowledging each other, until Max noticed something was going on. ''What's up with you and Lando?'' he asked you. You just shrugged - ''nothing.''

And when he asked Lando, Lando simply said he should ask you. So Max tried, and failed to get either of you to tell him anything.

The plane back to Monaco was awkward to say the least. Just you, Lando, Max and Pietra, who were knocked out as soon as the plan took off.

Lando distanced himself from you once again, and went to sit at the back all by himself. But you needed to talk to him. Ask him where all those words he threw at you last night came from, and why he suddenly looked disgusted whenever you were near him.

You made your way to where he was sitting and as soon as he saw you he rolled his eyes. ''Not now'' he spat, tone the same as last night. You flinched, wrapping your arms around yourself, but you stood your ground and sat opposite him.

''Lando, please. Where is all of this coming from?'' you calmly asked, trying to hold the tears back.

His face turned cocky. ''Seriously, y/n, not everything is about you. Can't you take a fucking hint and leave me alone?''

''But why are you shutting me out alone? You're fine with everyone else so what did I deserve to get this treatment?'' you whispered, tears really threatening to slide down your cheeks any minute now.

''Y/n, I'm begging you. Leave me the fuck alone. I've just had a bad race, have another one this weekend which i need to concentrate on, and I don't need you wanting to have my attention and to be fuckin needy all the time.'' you exclaimed, face red with anger by now.

You didn't know how to respond, and by now the tears were flowing freely down your face. The old Lando would have hated to see you crying about anything, let alone be the one who caused these tears.

You heart broke as you looked at his face, contorted with anger and disgust, aimed directly at you. This wasn't the Lando you grew up with. This wasn't the Lando you fell in love with.

''I'm sorry'' was all you whispered as you made your way back to you seat, sobbing to yourself.

Obviously, you didn't end up going for the race in Austria. You just made up an excuse to Max about needing to be at work in Monaco, which he believed. You also hadn't spoken to Lando for well over a week now, which was honestly the longest you'd gone without speaking to him.

You heart was still healing from all the daggers he threw at it. Forget the part about being in love with him - he ruined you friendship. And you weren't sure if you'd ever get it back with him.

Silverstone was a tough one. You definitely didn't want to be anywhere near Lando, but it was also the best race of the year, and to give up a Paddock pass would be a waste. So Pietra eventually convinced you to go. She knew something went down with Lando, but she didn't push you for answers. You told her you'd talk about it when you were ready.

You managed to avoid Lando for the most part of the weekend, until a few minutes before the race. He was getting ready to jump in the car and take it to the grid when his eyes found yours. You swore you stopped breathing for a minute. He looked so devilishly handsome, but his eyes told you a different story. He wasn't happy to see you there. He just shook his head at you before putting his helmet on and getting into the car.

You immediately realized it was a mistake to be here. Why did you even come? He made it perfectly clear the last time you spoke that he didn't want you anywhere near him, so why the fuck did you think it was okay to be here right now?

You felt your throat closing up and you really needed some air, you really needed to get out of here. So you told Max you weren't feeling well and rushed to your hotel room, grabbed your bags, and got the first flight back to Monaco.

Finally as you entered your penthouse could you breathe a little again. You were back in your own space, and nothing made you feel out of place, as you did earlier today.

After washing your hair in a well deserved long shower, you couldn't help but check how the race ended. P3 for Lando, he looked shattered. So you forced yourself to stop looking at your social media and just try and relax your mind. This was it - you weren't friends with him anymore, and you wouldn't let yourself wallow. It's his loss that he's shutting you out like this.

Since you knew you'd be home alone for the next 2 days at least, with Max and P only supposed to come back on Wednesday, you just threw your dressing gown on with nothing underneath.

You poured yourself a glass of wine to try and drink away at the heartbreak of losing both your friend and lover, even if he didn't know the latter feeling.

You were a few episodes deep into a random series on Netflix when your phone started ringing. You heart started racing when you saw it was Lando calling you.

You debated answering. You really didn't feel like talking to him right now. But you were also worried. Why was he calling you at 12.30am?

Reluctantly, you picked up.

''Hello?'' you said softly.

The other side of the line stayed silent for a few seconds until you called out his name.

''Lando?''

''Y/n, fuck'' he mumbles more to himself it sounded like. ''I-I'' he sniffled. Was he crying? You though to yourself.

''Lando'' you said firmly but calmly.

''I know I don't even deserve you answering my call after everything I've said and done'' he sniffled again, ''but I could really fucking use my best friend right now.'' he sobbed into his phone.

You were stunned. You didn't know what to even say. Yes you felt for the boy - it was a horrible race - but does he think he can just worm his way back with a few sobs?

''Lando..'''you started.

''Y/n please. Let me see you. I need to see you.''

''Where are you?'' you asked.

''Just landed in Monaco. Can i come over?''

''Ok'' was all you said before ending the call.

By now your mind was spiraling. You didn't know how to act in front of him, let alone what to say to him. A mere few hours ago he was looking at you like he hated you. And now he ''needed his best friend.'' ''Fuck'' you thought to yourself.

Not 15 minutes later and your door bell rang. You took a deep breath before opening it, revealing a devastated Lando. He looked tired, exhausted, sad. He looked so fricking sad and you couldn't help but pull him in and envelope him in a tight hug. You didn't know who needed the hug more - you or him. But it felt good to be in each others' space after weeks of tension and not talking.

You pulled away and walked to sit on the couch, he followed closely behind.

For a few minutes you both kept silent, neither saying anything.

''Lan,'' you started, but he cut you off.

''I'm so fucking sorry. I know saying that doesn't even begin to heal the wounds I've cut but y/n I'm so sorry for everything I've said and how I've treated you since Austria. I hate myself for ever putting our friendship in a position like that. In fact it's the last thing I wanted, but of course I had to go and fuck it up like I seem to be doing everything at the minute.''

You stayed silent, not really knowing how to respond. As much as you wanted everything to go back to normal, you weren't sure your heart could handle heartbreak like that again from him.

When you stayed silent he continued. ''The last thing I wanted was to push you away. It's no secret that we've been getting closer since Ibiza. Yes, you were my friend, first and foremost but you turned into something more along the way. You're the kindest, most passionate, most beautiful woman I know, and instead of showing you or telling you how special you are to me, I shut you out and hurt you. I guess it goes without saying that I like you, y/n. Like really like you.''

''Lan'' you stopped him. By now the tears were streaming down your face, a mix of emotions washing over you. Finally, he was saying the words you so desperately wanted to hear for so long, but you struggled to give forgive him for treating you like shit.

He scooted closer to you and took your hands in his before wiping the tears away.

''I don't get it though. If you like me, why the fuck did you push me away and treat me like that?'' you asked.

''I thought I didn't deserve someone as amazing as you and I sort of made up my mind that it was unfair to have you as mine if I couldn't be home everyday of the year, instead of going to a different place each week, where I know you have a stable job and wouldn't be able to follow me everywhere I go. But fuck that, we'll make it work if we're meant to be. I'll put in the hard work to make us work. If you want me, that is. Please, please forgive me.'' he pleaded.

''Lan I don't think its a secret that I do in fact want you. I've wanted you since fucking forever, but I don't think I'm ready to just jump into something after all that I've gone through the last two weeks. You really fucking hurt me.'' you all but whispered.

He took your face in his hands and pressed his forehead against yours. You could feel his breath on your face, and it took everything in you to not kiss him. ''I know,'' he said. ''But I'll wait for you, however long it takes. I don't want anyone else. Only you y/n.'' He kissed your forehead before you both jumped at the sound of keys and the door opened revealing Max and P.

You quickly separated yourselves and wiped your tears away.

''What the fuck'' Max was shocked to see Lando in his penthouse but he was more shocked to see that you had been crying.

He rushed over to you and glared at Lando.

''Mate why the fuck is y/n crying? What did you do?''

''I--'' Lando started but you cut him off.

''Nothing. It's not Lando.'' you suggested.

''Is there something going on with you two? Lando i thought i made myself fucking clear when i said y/n is off limits'' he shouted.

''Max fucking calm down, and I'm not a baby where you can tell me who I can or can't be with.'' you shouted back at him.

Max glared at Lando again. ''Just fucking get out before i say or do something worse.''

Within seconds Lando was out the front door. You were fuming with Max by now so you too bolted for your room before locking yourself inside.

You climbed into bed and tried to calm your racing mind. Every-time you drifted to sleep you awoke with Lando's words ringing in your ears. ''I really like you y/n'', and you couldn't help but smile to yourself.

AT 2am your phone buzzed and you saw it was Lando who'd texted.

You ok? he asked.

Yeah, I'm sorry about Max, but idgaf about what he says right now you replied.

Why are you still up?

You contemplated what to reply, not wanting to tell him that he was the reason you were obviously still awake because.

Thinking...about things... you vaguely answered.

What...things?

Fucker, you know I'm thinking about you!

Me, huh? you could practically hear the smirk in his text.

And why are you still up..mr norris?

Imagining what it'll feel like to have you next to me in my bed right now....

Fuck, you thought. Lan...

Shit, I know, I know..dw, I'm taking a step back...sorry.

That was it. You threw your covers off and slid into a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt, and tip-toed out the front door.

The drive to his house was nerve wrecking. You knew it was too soon to do anything, but your heart, and the ache between your legs were pushing you forward.

Open the door you'd texted as you waited in the cool air of the night.

You heard shuffling and the door flew open. There he stood, clad in only his boxers, eyes wide.

''Y/n'' he said, pulling you inside.

''We have so much to talk about, and I haven't forgiven you yet, but god Lan I've been waiting for this day for too long and i fucking need you.'' you whispered.

He didn't reply verbally. Instead he crashed his lips into yours.

This is so not how you imaged your first kiss to be. But fuck it, it felt incredible to finally feel his lips against yours.

It was messy and sloppy and very quickly turned heated. You moaned into the kiss and Lando took this as an opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, memorizing every inch of you.

You ran you hands up and down his torso and eventually to his hair, pulling at his curls.

''You're still wearing too many clothes baby'' he whispered between pecks on your lips.

He very quickly stripped you and was surprised to see you wearing no underwear.

''Fuck me what did I do to deserve you like this'' he mumbled, lips coming down to graze your neck, surely leaving purple bruises for tomorrow. You couldn't form any coherent words, so you just moaned in response.

He scooped you up and carried you upstairs before gently dropping you on his bed and hovering himself above you.

''You sure?'' he asked. As much as he wanted this he needed to be sure you were ready. Nothing would be the same after this.

''Lan you know I've been sure since forever. 1000 times yes. Please'' you squirmed under him.

He kissed you again, gently this time, lovingly.

His kissed moved back to your neck and in no time he found your sweet spot, sucking and biting at it, then shimmying lower down to your boobs. Your nipples were peaked stiff due to the cool air. He kept his eyes on yours as he took one nipple into his mouth and harshly sucked on it, making you a breathless mess under him.

''Óh Lan'' you panted, pulling harder at his curls. He continued his onslaught on both your nipples while massaging you boobs and fondling with them. He took turns to suck, nip, bite and sooth them until they were red and angry.

He could feel you clenching your thighs together so he moved further and spread your legs apart. You should have felt conscious to have him stare at your most intimate parts, but it only turned you on since he looked like he was ready to devour you.

Lando's eyes turned impossibly darker and a sheet of lust hovered over them. He didn't waste any time in leaning down and licking a strip up your cunt. The contact had you pulling at his hair and grunting through gritted teeth. ''Lan'' you shrieked.

''Such a pretty little cunt, all for me'' he whispered, more to himself.

He was ruthless. He found your clit so easily and showed it no mercy. Biting and sucking at it until your body was literally shaking underneath him.

''Lan I'm close'' you managed to say, unsure how much longer you could hold it in.

''Ask'' was all he said.

''What?'' you said, shocked he would demand it but so fucking turned on at the same time.

''You know. Ask'' he said, as he continued his activity.

''Fuck. Can I cum, Lan?'' you asked as politely as you could.

As much as Lando wanted to hear you beg some more, he was getting impossibly eager to feel you around him. So he let you.

''Fuck, cum y/n.''

''Oh Lan'' your juice came gushing out and into Lando's mouth in no time, body shaking uncontrollably, just the thought that it was Lando himself you sent you over the edge over-stimulating your body-and your mind.

He didn't even give you time to recover. He quickly slid to fingers into your cunt, thrusting them in and out at a brutal pace, while his tongue toyed with your clit. Your one hand was now scratching at his muscles on his neck and the other continued pulling at his hair.

''That's it baby, so fuckin tight for me''

In no time you felt the all too familiar warmth in your belly. Lando knew you were close, so before you even asked him, he gave you permission to cum again. And so you did.

As he licked all your cum, he leaned back up and let your cum-and his spit- dangle into your mouth before kissing you senseless.

You could clearly feel the tent in his boxers now, so you pushed him up and got on your knees. You slid his boxers down revealing his god damn huge cock. Red and angry, standing tall, with pre-cum already dripping out the slit at the tip.

You quickly wondered if he'd be able to fit in you. And he must have sensed your worry because he took your chin in his hands and said ''we'll take it a step at a time, ok?'' ''Hmm mm'' was all you could say.

You took him in your hands and started pumping him, fondling with his balls as well, before leaning forward and taking his tip into your mouth, sucking on the pre cum straight away. He hissed at the contact and bent forward to pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail out of your face.

You licked and sucked for a while before taking as much of him in as your could, your hand coming up to pump what you couldn't fit in.

You wouldn't lie - your cheeks were already starting to hurt and there were tears stinging your eyes, but you were on a mission to taste him, so you didn't care.

You deep throated him in no time and the moans he was letting out already had to dripping and desperate to feel him down there.

''Fuck y/n, how are you so good at this. Fuck me'' he moaned.

You pulled away and smiled, ''trust me Lan, I plan to'''you said, before resuming giving him head.

You could tell Lando was close - his legs were becoming like jelly as you held on to them, so you pushed him to sit down and you found a place on the floor between him, pumping him again and taking him into your mouth.

''Where do you want it?'' he asked, barely able to contain himself.

You didn't answer though - just continued with what you were doing and that gave him his answer. He came undone in your mouth. Squirts of hot, milky cum coating you as you swallowed everything you could before pulling off.

You were a right mess now. Spit and cum sliding out the corners of your mouth as Lando pulled you up and kissed you fiercely.

''Best fucking blowjob ever'' he said between kisses. ''That dirty little mouth of yours.''

''Need to feel you in me, please.'' you begged.

''You on birth control baby? Need me to wear a condom?'' he wearily asked.

''Yeah I am, and no you don't. Please just fuck me Lan'' you pleaded.

In no time Lando switched your positions again. He was hovering above you. Dick in hand and gliding it between your folds to lube up with your juices.

You were nervous - scared even. You'd never been with anyone that big before, and Lando, because he can read you so well, knew what you were feeling.

''Baby you'll be fine. We'll take it as slow as you need to. ok? And tell me if you wanna stop at any point.''

''Yeah, thank you Lan'' you said.

He gently pushed his tip in as you both held your breath. It stung for sure, but you were so desperate for him. You nodded at him to continue, and he kissed you as he slid in fully. You just kissed while he stayed station inside of you, allowing you to get used to the intrusion.

''You can move, Lan'' you told him, before he slid out again and thrust back in, setting a slow rhythm. Soon the pleasure started the overtake the pain and you told him it was okay to go faster.

''Please Lan, more, deeper, fuck me harder.'' you moaned as you pulled on his hair.

Then he started. Fucking into you relentlessly. Thrusting his dick in and out of your cunt as if there was no tomorrow.

''Fuck baby, so fucking tight, taking me so well. Fuck'' he slurred, bringing his mouth down to your boobs to suck on your nipples.

Words had long left your brain by now. All you could do was wrap your legs around him as tight as you could, and let out a series of moans and grunts, chasing that intoxicating feeling.

Within minutes your body was shuddering underneath him. It feels as if you've blacked out and are seeing stars, releasing all over his cock.

Lando, being Lando, didn't slow down again. Instead he mans-handled your body and flipped you over so you were now on all fours, holding onto the headboard for dear life.

He thrust back into you. The new position hitting you harder in all the right places.

''Fuck Lan, yes, please, harder, fuck me harder. Oh'' you said between breaths, getting a burst of energy suddenly.

''Babygirl if I fuck you any harder then we'll both be seeing stars.'' you stated, pulling you up by your hair so you were now leaning back on him. His hand snaked its way around your throat.

Feeling him do that turned you on so fucking much. It felt so good to feel like you were his. You were putty in his hands. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted with you and you'd still be happy. Fuck, he's gonna be the death of you.

With no warning you came around his cock again, you were sure it was probably the most intense orgasm you'd ever felt. Your body went limp in his arms so Lando had to lie you down again, and drag you to the edge of the bed so he could stand and finally chase his own release.

''Think you have one more in you baby?'' he asked, movements not slowing down.

''Uh huh'' was all you could form.

This time his pace was unmatched to anything you'd ever felt before.

''Lan, I can't'' you pleaded.

He slowed. ''Want me to stop?'' he asked? He knew what your answer would be, but he wanted to tease you anyways.

''Fuck. no. No'' you exclaimed.

''That's what i thought baby.'' and he set his pace again.

You could feel his movements getting sloppier by the second, and when you opened your eyes his face was contorted in pleasure, pure ecstasy.

He brought his thumb down and started rubbing harshly at your clit. Pinching and pulling at it. This quickly made you cum for...you lost count...you didn't care. It felt fucking amazing.

Lando looked down at where you were joined and seeing your juices spill around his cock and out of your cunt sent him over the edge.

He moaned your name loud and hard as he released his cum in your cunt, sheets and sheets of his milky cum painting your insides.

He slumped his body forward on yours, to kiss you gently. Both of you lacking energy to move to talk, instead just wrapping your arms around each other.

''You're fucking amazing y/n. So amazing.''

''Hmmm Lan, best sex I've ever had. Wow'' you said, still trying to catch your breath.

His dick was softening inside of you so he gently pulled out, making the both of you moan at the loss of contact. He bent down and gathers all the slick that was leaking out of your cunt and bought his mouth to yours, tapping at your cheek to open your mouth. You obeyed and he slowly let the mixture of cum drip into your mouth, before kissing you again. That had your groaning. He pulled back with a smirk. ''Gonna clean you up. Be right back'' he said, kissing your forehead and disappearing into the bathroom.

Once you were all cleaned up Lando pulled you into bed and held you close.

''Thank you for giving me the most incredible end to a shitty day'' he whispered. ''And thank you for giving us a chance. I promise I wont let you down. I really fucking love you y/n, so much.''

Now you had tears threatening to spill. ''I love you too Lan, more than you can imagine.'' you said, kissing the little scar on his nose.

''But please, please, stop being so harsh on yourself after races. You're the most talented person I know and I promise you the best driver on the grid. Don't blame yourself when things don't go your way. There are 1000 other people who are involved in the race outcome, so don't take it upon yourself to blame. You're amazing and so passionate, and you've won before, and I know you'll get so so many more wins. Be patient with yourself, and trust yourself. You are the most amazing person i know.''

Lando cupped your face and kissed you, hard and deep.

''Thank you. I know I'll bounce back, especially that i have you by side now.''

You couldn't help but laugh. ''I've always been on your side, silly!''

''Yeah but now I can kiss you whenever i want. One problem though.''

''Hmm?'' you asked.

''What are we gonna do about Max''?

''Well fuck. But I'm happy now. We'll deal with him another day'' you said, kissing him again.

Authors note - not 100% feeling this one...but please let me know how i can improve and if you guys have any requests then send them through. Also enjoy this picture because HOT DAMN

[lcriedlastnight]

Oscar confessing his feelings for reader early in the relationship

you and your great mind, anon! tysm.

tw: fem!reader, swears, not spell checked, lmk if anything else.

w/c: 1.9k

the side of oscar’s bed that had been dubbed yours was stone cold. in any other circumstance oscar would be laying there miserable - but tonight he’s got you nestled on top of him so closely it’s almost like you’re trying to get underneath his skin. he’s not complaining.

oscar would love for you to be on top of him more as you were kind of half on him half off. your elbow was digging into his hip bone as you gripped at his sleep shirt, your legs quite literally tangled up in his. he’s uncomfortable but he wouldn’t move for the world. the leg that you could move was running up and down his calf, a weird habit he’s just now found out about you.

your eyes are closed as you lay on oscar’s chest, not really tired just wanting to relax in this safe space. you couldn’t believe you hadn’t done this with him before. you both had what you would call a situationship more than a relationship but it was without all the doubting, dry messages and being left on open that came with a usual situationship. the only thing you guys hadn't really done was go out on a date together, seeing as oscar had been busy with a double header the past two weekends. this was finally his weekend off and he knew he wasn't spending it with anyone else besides you.

“you comfy pretty girl?” oscar asks, moving his hand that was resting on the leg you’d slung over his hips, up to run through your hair. you mumble out some sort of agreement that makes oscar’s heart burst into flames of adoration.

“are you?” you ask back, and although it was a basic question that he’s literally just asked you, oscar felt himself melt at the thought of you caring whether or not he was comfortable. your foot still stroking the skin on his calf. it distracts him.

“i am”. simple but it’s enough to stop you wondering. he feels you nod against him, showing him you were listening. in these moments he has the overwhelming urge to tell you he loves you. he can’t though, you guys have only been seeing each other for two weeks. you aren’t even official yet. if oscar found out you were going on other dates - he’d faint. not that you weren’t entitled to, like he said you weren’t official. you weren’t his girlfriend. he really has no right to love you. not yet anyway.

it scares the australian because you don’t seem to show that your going through the same internal struggles as him. to oscar it seemed like you were happy keeping this casual. keeping it ‘light and breezy’. oscar was not all about the ‘light and breezy’ lifestyle. he’s never done anything in his entire life ‘light and breezy’. but if it’s what will keep you in his life right now then he’ll take it. there’s no way he’s living with himself knowing he could be sitting with you, exactly how you are now , but chooses not to. oscar would brand himself himself insane and check himself into a mental hospital before that ever happened. and so what if you were seeing other guys right now? so what if they had you in this exact same position as he did; your cheek pressed against his chest, the harmonious mix of your perfume and shampoo filling up his senses until he feels drunk with it, his hand scratching against your scalp and your foot rubbing against his leg. fuck, there was no way he could be normal about this. about you.

“am i the only one you’re seeing?” oscar asks. he didn’t think before the words came slipping out but they were out now. no going back.

you shift your head up to look at him, neck straining a little at the position. the thing oscar noticed most though was your foot had stopped moving. oscar felt insecure now. why did his brain think it was okay to feel territorial over you? this was literally the first time you had been in his house. ever.

your brows are furrowed in confusion as your soft voice replies to him. “seeing?” you ask for clarification.

oscar gets angsty now. he feels the need to fidget but you were touching him everywhere and he couldn’t. this was so embarrassing. what happened to being casual?

“i was-uh. just wondering if you were going on dates with anyone else?” oscar phrases it different to how he had in his mind because he didn’t think asking you if you were laying on top of other guys would make you want to answer his question.

your face relaxes as he clears up your confusion and you lay your head back in it’s previous position. your food still laying still just under his knee. “oh. no i’m not seeing other guys.”

this sliver of reassurance sends oscar’s head reeling. you weren’t seeing other guys? he’s the only one who got to have you like this? this was doing wonders for his possessiveness. oscar hums, trying to act nonchalant as his hand returns to your hair again. that kickstarts your leg again. he hopes you don't ask any questions as he feels the inner peace from before his big mouth blurted out his biggest fears, come back in peaceful waves.

it's quiet before you speak up again. "why do you ask? y'want me all to yourself, hm?" you tease, your words as light as the late night breeze coming through the window oscar had left open this morning. oscar tenses, he knows your just joking but there's a part of him that thinks you're being serious. the brunette wills himself to relax again as he, not so subtly, shoves his nose in your hair, his nose replacing his hand.

the giggle you let out makes oscar's heart skip a beat. there's no way you didn't hear it, your ear pressed close against his chest. you don't say anything about it, if you do hear it (there's no way possible that you didn't hear it). oscar's mind is flooded with thoughts about how nice that is of you. he doesn't think that he's ever met someone as nice as you. he let's his mind fall down the rabbit hole, thoughts of you swirling around his mind. he thinks about laying with you, just like you both are right now, but in his head you've just come back from a mini golfing date. he's beaten you by a mile but he did the score sheet and lies to you, telling you that you must've gotten better than the last time because you've beaten him. you can tell by the smile on his face that he's lying but play along because you love him! the key thing in these fantasies is that you love him back. oscar is finally brought back to you by your voice. your head is straining back at him again.

"what?" you ask him, confused. eyes cloudy with it. the boy is equally confused as you. why were you asking him? as if he's got control over his tongue when you're around. he sends you a half grin, hoping that will make you forget about whatever he said (he's hoping it was just some stupid nonsense and nothing major like him telling you he loves you).

it makes you more confused. "you just said you loved me? i think."

oh. so he did tell you he loves you. how the fuck was he supposed to get out of this one. his brain races over the possibilities of how he could tell you that him saying i love you for the first time was an accident. there's no way you don't think he's a weirdo now. you're gonna untangle your legs from his, that weird foot thing you've since you both decided to lay in his room will stop and he'll feel cold again.

"i did? i did. i said that. i just told you that i loved you." oscar rambles, his mind breaking at the seams. he couldn't lose you. "i'm sorry. i was just thinking about you and it must've just come out. i do love though. i know it's way too early, this is the first time you've even been round and here i am scaring you away. i can't believe i've just done something this stupid.".

your legs do untangle from his and your arms lift yourself off of his own body. oscar knew you were going to search for your shoes in the hallway then you were going to leave him. here. alone.

"you love me? really." is what you say instead. it surprises him but he nods.

you look at oscar, your expression quite blank as he tries his best to read it, wanting - needing to know how you felt in reaction to his words. it seems that the only thing you can think about doing is kiss him because that's exactly what you do. you lean forward at the same time you throw your leg back over his middle to straddle his hips, your lips touching his soft and sweet. his hands jump to your waist, clinging on like he was still scared you'd leave even though this made it clear that you didn't think he was a weirdo.

your arms rest on their elbows at either side of oscar's head. the australian feels the urge to pull them off and let you lay down on top of him properly. he licks into your mouth like he's never going to kiss you again. you melt into it, your body slowly putting more weight onto oscar as the kiss continues. you eventually push yourself up for air. oscar's head thumps back onto the pillow as you sit back up.

"i think i love you too, osc." you tell him. oscar can see your putting on a brave face but he can still see a crack of the shyness shining through in you. it's just another thing to add to the very long list of thing the loves about you.

"i can't believe i told you and i didn't even know." oscar laughs a little, his hands resting on the small of your back, just underneath your oversized concert t-shirt. his hands rub along your soft skin, like your made of glass and he's waited his whole entire life to touch you.

"neither." you laugh back. "what were you thinking?".

"i was just thinking about you and how you were laying with me. i may have also been thinking about finally taking you out on a date where we go mini golfing." oscar lets you know a little about his fantasies but he plans to keep it mostly to himself. you grin with joy at his words.

"i'd love that. it sounds like great fun, i want to do things with you, like dates and stuff but i'm also fine just laying with you and watching tv after a race weekend." you tell him, hand coming to stroke the skin under his eye gently. oscar leans into the touch and his eyes close in bliss.

"i know, pretty girl. just wanna treat you like you should be treated. you don't deserve to be hidden away." it's a shame his eyes are shut because he misses the bright red blush that graces your cheeks at his words.

you start to stutter out some kind of pathetic reply but oscar beats you to it. "now lay back down the way you were before." he demands. "i need you to do that thing with you foot on my leg again, it was weirdly soothing."

you gasp out a breathy laugh. "right!?".

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge: Unleashing the Power of Muscle

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

In 1962, a new era of muscle cars emerged, radiating brilliance and power. Chrysler led the way with their groundbreaking Max Wedge lineup, introducing the world to the fusion of unitized-body construction and the high-performance ram-tuned dual-carbureted 413 CI engine. Among these legends was the Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge, a remarkable vehicle that holds a significant place in automotive history.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

The First Super Stock Max Wedge with Manual Transmission According to the esteemed Chrysler Registry and the meticulous documentation by Darrell Davis, this specific Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge holds a groundbreaking distinction—it was the first Super Stock model equipped with a manual transmission. The car’s odometer displays a mere 6,593 miles and has undergone a meticulous restoration process to return it to its original specifications. Notably, the engine has been upgraded, boasting a dyno-proven power output exceeding 500 HP.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

Unleashing the Power of the 413 CI V-8 Engine The 1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge was powered by the formidable 413 CI V-8 engine. This was the first iteration of Chrysler’s renowned ram induction system, featuring a cross-ram intake manifold meticulously designed to optimize engine efficiency. The engine’s performance was further enhanced by the utilization of cast-iron header-style manifolds, which were rarely preserved but featured in this exceptional vehicle. Dale Reed of California refreshed the engine around 300 miles ago, ensuring its optimal performance. The correct Carter AFB carburetors reside beneath dual black air cleaners, accentuated by carefully placed decals.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

A Unique Manual Transmission Experience One of the distinctive aspects of this Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge is its manual transmission. Unlike its automatic counterparts, this car delivers a unique driving experience through its floor-mounted shifter, allowing the driver to truly feel the power at their fingertips. Paired with a full aftermarket exhaust equipped with cutouts and the robust 8 ¾ Chrysler differential, this Max Wedge offers an exhilarating ride for those who crave the thrill of the open road.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

Captivating Style and Authenticity The exterior of this Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge embodies the spirit of the era. Finished in captivating light blue paint, it exudes a timeless charm. The interior features a complementary blue cloth-and-vinyl combination, while the white-and-blue two-tone trim adds an elegant touch. The front and rear bench seats provide comfort, and the radio delete plate pays homage to the car’s performance-focused nature. Notably, it features a knee-knocker S-W column-mounted tachometer and a beautifully presented trio of rubber pedals. The car’s attention to detail is evident throughout, with the inclusion of circa-1962 chrome fonts, single-lens tail lamps, and OEM steel wheels adorned with poverty-type hubcaps.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

Provenance and Documentation Accompanying this Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge is a wealth of provenance and documentation that adds to its allure. It includes the original OEM IBM punch card and build sheet, which serve as a testament to its authenticity. Additionally, the window sticker provides insight into its original specifications, while the dyno sheet confirms its impressive horsepower rating. Vintage photos capture the car’s early years when it was part of a famous drag car collection, showcasing its illustrious past.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

Conclusion The 1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge stands as a testament to the golden age of muscle cars. With its groundbreaking manual transmission configuration, powerful 413 CI V-8 engine, and captivating style, it represents the pinnacle of Mopar’s storied performance heritage. Meticulously restored to its original glory, this Max Wedge allows enthusiasts to experience a bygone era’s raw power and timeless charm.

FAQs: How many miles does the 1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge have? The odometer of the 1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge reads 6,593 miles. Who documented the Chrysler Registry for this particular car? The meticulous documentation of the Chrysler Registry for this car was done by Darrell Davis. Has the engine of the 1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge been upgraded? Yes, the engine of this Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge has been upgraded to a dyno-proven 500-plus HP. What is the significance of the 413 CI V-8 engine in this car? The 413 CI V-8 engine in this car was the first to receive Chrysler’s shortened version of ram induction, known as the cross-ram intake. It maximizes engine efficiency and pairs it with rarely preserved cast-iron header-style manifolds. What documentation and provenance come with this Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge? This Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge comes with various documentation, including the OEM IBM punch card, build sheet, window sticker, dyno sheet confirming horsepower rating, and vintage photos of its early years as part of a famous drag car collection.

[themareverine]

oh, we're just gettin' started, bub

hi peanut. Jesus freak, thirty. ⚲ with Wolverine ➳❥ very deeply in my wolverine and Hugh Jackman era. just call me mrs. Logan.

please be an adult when you interact, minors DNI. don’t solicit me asking for money. ageless and blank blogs will be blocked.

➳❥ requests & anons

── Recents ➳❥ updated 12/13/2024

▹UNTIL WE FALL - AU DP&W | worst!Logan x mutant!fem!OC ▹WHO WE ARE - dofp!Logan x mutant!fem!OC ▹CLOSER TO HELL - shortking!DP&WLogan x fem!OC

Masterlist

➳❥ Logan Howlett/Wolverine

── SERIES

▹ Mare & the Wolverine - AU!Origins!Logan Howlett x fem!OC

summary: The Northern Territories were the last place Mare McAffery ever imagined herself, much less a prize fighting bar with characters the likes of the one they call the Wolverine. A logging community and living out of a Motel 6—it wasn’t exactly Shakespearean. But sometimes, survival calls for a tooth and nail fight—even for a preacher’s daughter.

▹ Until We Fall - Worst!Logan Howlett x fem!OC

summary: DP&W AU. It's been God knows how many years after Logan's death in North Dakota—and this wouldn't be much of a story without a shiny new villain with a hot new plan, or someone to save the world. Well, maybe two someones. Ok, you win, three. But first, you have track down that said someone—the Wolverine. And who better to do that than the girl who found him the first time? Logan/OC

── ONESHOTS

▹ Wild Man- Logan Howlett x fem!OC

synopsis: Blizzards and pane glass windows—typical for a Thursday night at Laughlin City's favorite haunt. Until the Wolverine walks in, and hell hath no fury like a man ravaged by jealousy.

▹ Bed of Bones - The Long Night!Logan Howlett x fem!OC

SYNOPSIS: When he promised her something different, she didn't think it would be this. Alaskan stars, running to survive, trying to feel. Anonymous faces in a forgotten frontier. It isn't much, it's barely living—but really all she needs to live is him.

▹ Designated Driver - oldman!Logan x fem!OC

synopsis: "Hey driver!" Tits, yeah—counts two of 'em. What Logan can't quite shake isn't the drunk-off-her ass's $20,000 tit job, or even the way his passengers embarrass themselves with shameless come-ons, stupid amounts of money. something else, entirely—a pretty little thing all done up in makeup and curls, wishing she were anywhere but third-wheeling a drunk hen party. "Sorry about my friend, she's—" "Didn't even notice her, honey."

▹ Closer to Hell - shortking!DP&WLogan x fem!OC

synopsis: He may be five inches closer to hell than she is, but he takes up more space than God, sets fire to anything he’d dare to touch. 

▹ Who We Are - dofp!Logan x mutant!fem!OC

synopsis: "What am I, Logan?" Swallowing, "What is this?" And she knows what she is, subliminally.

── DRABBLES SERIES

▹ A King & His Castle - oldman!Logan Howlett x fem!OC

synopsis: Breadwinner. Bring-Home-the-Bacon. He's heard it all before, but it's never hit home. Until her. Coming home to her is the only thing to live for, the only thing keeping the heart behind his ribs spinning.➢ IN YOU, MY FORTRESS ➢ MORE THAN ROCKET SCIENCE

── DRABBLES

▹ Garfield Morning Coffee- Logan Howlett x fem!OC ▹He’s Not You- Logan Howlett x fem!OC ▹ Subaru, It's You - worst!Logan x fem!OC ▹ Top Eight - worst!Logan x fem!OC drabble

➳❥ Kate & Leopold

── SERIES

▹ On Glass We Walk - Leopold x fem!OC summary: Marketing copywriter by day, aspiring Shakespeare by night, she’s been crafting Prince Charmings and glass slippers all her life. Never once suspecting he could actually exist, bone to bone. In New York—her best-friend-in-law’s apartment complex. The stuff of Cinderella, Grimm—but her? “Oh. My. Lanta.” “Who, pray tell, is ‘Lanta?’”

©️ themareverine 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Layout inspired by @ ovaryacted, header @ loganhowlctt

[trash-gobby]

Ultimate Masterlist

Here is where you will find all the stories I've written along with each fandom as a header. If there are any new or old stories they can be found here. The old inventory system I had is dead. This will be the home of all content I've written or created from now on.

Fandoms

Action/Adventure

🔫 James Bond 🔫

Happiness Is a Warm Gun 🔞

All The Time In The World - *NTTD SPOILERS* 

Dario X GN!Reader - Yandere Headcanons 🔞

Dario X SadisticFem!Reader Headcanons 🔞

Drama

🏏 Heather's 🏏

Jason Dean - Yandere Headcanons 

Veronica Sawyer - Yandere Headcanons 

Horror

👽 Alien Franchise 👽

Bishop Headcanons

Bishop Headcanons - His friendship with the Colonial Marines 

First Snow on Earth 

How They Would Play Sims 2 & 4

Lance Bishop Fluff Alphabet

Dallas & J.M. Lambert Dating Headcanons

Colonial Marines W/ Virgin Reader 🔞

Scott Gorman NSFW Alphabet 🔞

William Hudson NSFW Alphabet 🔞

🎭 Behind The Mask 🎭

Leslie Vernon X GN!S/O who’s Jealous of Taylor

🎄🩸 Black Christmas 🩸🎄

Billy Lenz X Short Gothic GN! S/O

Harry Warden & Billy Lenz X GN!Reader with Short Coiled Hair

Billy Lenz X GN!S/O - Who Hides Gifts Around The House For Him To Find!

Jess Bradford - Fluffy Dating Headcanons w/ Trans Masc!S/O

🚶The Boy 🚶

Brahms X AFAB!Reader who is overly protective of him P1

Brahms X AFAB!Reader who is overly protective of him P2

Dating Brahms Headcanons (Possessive Brahms)

Brahms X GN!Reader - Trying to Leave The House 🔞

🚀 Farscape 🚀

Moya Crew w/ Artistic S/O

🪱 The Faculty 🪱

Zeke Tyler Dating Headcanons

🚑 Flatliners 🚑

Nelson Wright X AFAB!Reader Meet at a House Party

Nelson X GN!Reader - Cuddling For The First Time

🐺 Ginger Snaps 🐺

Ginger X Fem!Reader SFW & NSFW Headcanons 🔞

Ginger Fitzgerald Headcanons 👋

🎃 Halloween 🎃

Michael with a physically & verbally affectionate s/o

Michael Myers GN!S/O with Separation Anxiety

🔥 Hellboy 🔥

Poly!Hellboy & Liz Sherman X GN!Reader Headcanons

A Long Hard Day

Nuada X Agent!Reader Headcanons

⛓️ Hellraiser ⛓️

Pinhead - Hellraiser: Headcanons

💄Jennifer's Body 💄

Jennifer Check X Male!Reader

🦇🩸Lost Boys 🩸🦇

∞ When You’re a Stranger ∞ - Chpt. 1, Chpt. 2

When did Max get Thorn???

David - General Headcanons

David - Fluff Alphabet

Dwayne - Headcanons

Dwayne - Fluff Alphabet

Laddie - Headcanons

Marko - Headcanons

Paul - Headcanons

Descending Angel - part one, part two

♊ Malignant ♊

Gabriel May X GN!S/O - Who Writes Him Gothic Love Poems

🥀⚰️ Mortuary ⚰️🥀

Flowers For a Grave - Paul Andrews X Fem!Reader

❣️My Bloody Valentine ❣️

Harry Warden & Billy Lenz X GN!Reader with Short Coiled Hair

Harry Warden W/ Pregnant S/O

🦇🕶️ Near Dark 🕶️🦇

Severen Van Sickle X Pinup!Reader

Severen Van Sickle NSFW Alphabet🔞

👹 Nightbreed 👹

Dr. Decker X POC Plus Size!Reader Headcanons 🔞

Decker X Plus Size POC!Reader - Darkness Is A Stitch Away

📸 🔪 Scream 🔪 📸

Billy Loomis X Fem!Reader - Comforting her after losing someone close to her

Poly!Ghostface Finding Out Their Girlfriend is Pregnant

🚲 Stranger Things 🚲

Wipe Out

Eddie Munson - Fluff Alphabet

🥩🪝 Texas Chainsaw Massacre 🪝🥩

Christmas dinner with the Sawyer's

🌌 The Thing 🌌

R.J. MacReady NSFW Alphabet 🔞

Assimilation - Palmer X GN!Reader

Palmer - Headcanons

Science Fiction

👽💅 Earth Girls Are Easy 💅👽

Mac - Fluffy Dating Headcanons

🦖 Jurassic Park 🦖

Dating Ian Malcolm Would Include

🌠 Star Wars: The Old Republic 🌠

Two Bounty Hunters Walk Into a Guild Meeting

Superhero

☔ Umbrella Academy ☔

Luther Hargreeves X Fem!Reader - NSFW & Dating Headcanons 🔞

Fantasy

✨ Legend ✨

Wicked Game 🔞

🌊 Legend of Korra 🌊

Korra Dating Kuvira's Sibling Headcanon's

[mystra-midnight]

pairing: rockstar ! eddie x innocent ! reader

tags: 18+ only. au. fem reader. loss of virginity. corruption kink. oral; (fem & male receiving). dirty talk. fingering. penetrative sex. semi-public sex. break-up/make-up sex. marking; (hickeys, bites, scratches). hints of sub/dom.

w/c: to be advised.

summary: in the midst of a sold-out concert, two worlds ended up colliding. one belonging to eddie munson, with his wild hair, leather jackets, and guitar skills that could make anyone blush. the other was yours, filled with pretty dresses, pastel colours and smiles that could shine in a rain storm. you might have seen him in magazines and on tv, but you never thought about him like this until steve harrington and robin buckley dragged you along to that concert. now you can't get him out of your mind; you're not sure whether to be grateful or resentful.

part i

part ii

part iii

part iv

part v

(dividers credit @saradika)

(support & mdni banner credit @cafekitsune)

(header credit @mystra-midnight)

[thesupreme316]

I was meant to send this earlier but I’m just now getting to it.

AEW stars of your choice reacting to the fem!reader having her/a wrestlermaiea moment, like winning a title or ended a rivalry.

AEW Stars React to: Your Wrestlemania Moment

Pairings: Eddie Kingston X Fem!Reader (Platonic?), Ricky Starks X Fem!Reader, Daniel Garcia X Fem! Reader, Mark Briscoe X Fem!Reader (Platonic), Jeff Hardy x Fem!Reader (Platonic?), Hook X Fem!Reader, Dante Martin X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.1K

Supreme Speaks: Thank you to @hookerforhook for requesting and supporting me. I apologize for being off the radar as shit as been hitting the fan in my life. I will upload more posts this week. But as always, my inbox and requests is open for everyone. P.S you are loved and greatly appreciated.

Warnings: None really....i think, gifs are not mine, I repeat: gifs are NOT mine

Taglist: @triscillal @wwenhlimagines @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @sheinthatfandom @eddie-kingstons-wifey

Backstory

Winning the Title:

You won the Royal Rumble and had a first-class ticket to Wrestlemania

Where, also, you had the opportunity to the main event with Becky (Or Charlotte or whoever else you want)

After a feud that has been brewing for a couple of months, it all came down to this

You were gonna walk in as the challenger and walk out as the champion

And you did exactly that

All while giving the crowd and fans around the world memorable moments and five-star moves

After 15 minutes, the bell rung and all was said and done as you held the championship over your head

You celebrated with those at ringside (family, friends, fans) before blowing a kiss to the camera

But most importantly to the person who has always supported you, no matter where he is

Ending a Rivalry:

You have been in a rivalry with Liv Morgan (or someone else)

At first, you two were running the division as a tag team before being split up due to comparisons and underlying tensions

After months and months of scathing promos, vicious attacks, and iconic moments

You two were set to wrestle in a No Holds Barred match at Wrestlemania

Even though y’all weren’t the main event, ya’ll stole the show

With moments that involved blood (if you wish), ladders, kendo sticks, and breaking tables

In the end, you were the only one standing with your hand raised as the winner

You helped Liv up before hugging in the middle of the ring

Eddie Kingston

This man would be screaming “I told you so” to everyone and their mommas

Blows up your phone with spam of “You did good! I guess” “Drag her!” “Dawg you suck lol jk” “I’m proud”

You know how Eddie just randomly posts stuff? He’ll just post a pic of you at Wrestlemania followed by memes or old Japanese Wrestling

Eddie would try his best to promote your win to everyone in his line of sight

Cuts a promo and ends with “Also, congrats to Y/N! Hella proud of you skunk”

I also have a feeling that because Eddie is close with you, he would take this win for you a little more personally than how people would expect

He’s happy that you’re experiencing something that he has yet to have

Ricky Starks

MANS IS HELLA PROUD

Wishes he was there ringside, but Ricky sends his support from afar

Make three separate Instagram posts and five tweets about you, all talking about how you’re amazing (and how you’ll meet stroke daddy later)

“LOOK AT MY BABY WITH THE W”

Makes all of his friends congratulate you with posts and comments (will literally take their phones and do it for them if they don’t)

Refers to you in promos to make his opponents (especially ex-WWE) jealous

“Well, unlike you, my girlfriend was actually able to have her Mania moment”

Spoils with presents (wink wink) you as soon as you guys are reunited

Daniel Garcia

THIS MAN IS A MENACE WITH YOUR WIN

“Your win is my win right? So technically I won at Wrestlemania too?” “No.”

Makes your win his Twitter header (don’t matter if you’re together or not)

Will brag on Isiah’s vlogs and to the JAS

Will taunt people like “Did your girlfriend win at Wrestlemania? No, didn’t think so”

Like Ricky, he will post you on his Instagram and Twitter with simple or funny captions

Would genuinely be proud of you and all of your accomplishments;

And would definitely make your Wrestlemania picture/outfit his Home Screen

Mark Briscoe (My twin flame)

HOMEBOY FUNNY AS FUCK

Would definitely tell you that he saw it coming “I CALLED IT!”

Would send you some flowers that remind him of you and tells you that you did a good job

Mark will ramble on and on about your match to Penta and Fenix

Will turn a promo into being about your win

Will compare your victory to an animated movie where the hero wins all the time

“You know like that one film?” “Cars?” “No…Up! That’s what it called”

Although he hasn’t made it to WWE yet, he is extremely proud of you and will defend your victory till the very end

Jeff Hardy

THIS MAN IS BEYOND EXCITED

As a man who has had his Wrestlemania moment; he’s happy that he had yours sooner rather than later

Will recount his own Wrestlemania moments and reminisce as he looks at your bright smile

Jeff would be the one who dedicates his next gear and facepaint to your Wrestlemania gear

Gives you a spill (speech) about living up to standards and upstaging yourself on future occasions

“And if you don’t feel confident…just jump off the ladder, the floor will catch you”

I want to say that in future matches he would use your signature move or like a common move that you use

Jeff is so damn sweet and will continuously support your accomplishments

Dante Martin

This man is a cutie patootie

Darius would definitely post Dante’s reaction (involves him jumping up and down and screaming at the screen)

Would FaceTime you and just listen to you talk about the entire thing from your perspective

Would call/text you “I’m so proud of you baby”

Cites you (and this specific moment) as his inspiration for future interviews

Would have flowers delivered to you with a little note attached

Hook:

His silent celebrations speak volumes

Would definitely take you out to show how proud he is

I feel like that Hook would be the type to like a post about your victory/moment

But what would really solidify your relationship would be that he posted you on his story with a black heart

That’s also how he confirms your relationship

The wrestling world goes wild as he also wears a hoodie of your merch or posts a picture of ya’ll kissing

Like Dante would also have flowers delivered to you, idc what you say

"I love you and I'm so proud of you"

[agendabymooner]

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: 𝐨𝐡 𝐢'𝐦 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝑗𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑏𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑜𝑛²² 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑟𝑏

summary: you’re asking your friend for way too much. you cannot just tell them that you want no strings AND act like you’re exclusive— so do something about it. that’s what jenson and frankie both learned from looking at each other from across the room.

content warning: 16+ content under the cut, named ofc, fwb-to-lovers type beat, jealous!jenson, shitty confessions, mentions of sexism, mentions of alcohol consumption, what is a context, use of explicit language

masterlist

this is getting too old. but who were they to complain? this was an agreement between the two of them. both of them mutually made a decision to be fucking idiots who couldn’t find any time to be in a stable relationship with anyone. the constant was just the sex.

perhaps frankie made a good move, going out for the first time since the triple header got to her system. it wasn’t easy being the only woman to drive on the grid and her team always reminded her that it will never be as easy for her as it would for men. she always needed to prove herself because well… she didn’t want to face scrutiny. so she looked closely, wondering if she’d ever step on the eggshells of discrimination and biased treatments as she drove.

too many things to think about, yet when she stepped into the club full of rich, familiar people her worried had gone away. not even caring about the man who eyed her just as she finished her cocktail in nearly one sip. he watched her carefully, not wanting his peers to think that he was being possessive. jenson button was never possessive of her— they weren’t even together. just as they agreed on.

she didn’t wear anything risqué; but the way her figure hugged her high slit pants and jewelry embellished top made him ache a little. was it his heart or his body? he didn’t know.

jenson envied the man who danced with her as she enjoyed her time. frankie was so fucking perfect and jenson didn’t know why— WHY he was so confident that he would still be able to enjoy a casual date with someone else after spending endless nights with frankie on his bed.

he said it himself that they can see anyone else whenever they’d feel like it— as long as they weren’t doing it behind each other’s backs. he’d done it before, and he could understand why she always looked like someone kicked her puppy whenever the boys would tease jenson about his latest date in front of her. she was, after all, the only woman in the grid— she had to sit through all of this shit before. but jenson knew why she was pained by the endless teasings that weren’t even directed at her.

because watching her dance and giggle at the nameless and faceless man made him ache too. he knew how she felt back when they’d make fun of him. he knew how it felt when someone was practically rubbing your love’s sex life right on your face while you couldn’t do much about it as you weren’t exclusive. they were nothing but teammates. the brawn-mclaren mix. the only two that tolerated each other enough to be able to last together in two different teams. he understood where she stood even if she didn’t voice it out.

it was getting too old and even frankie knew that. because by the time she dipped out of the dance floor and made her way to him and saw how he fiddled with his empty glasses, she could tell that he craved for hard liquor more than he usually did. he looked so sad moping around like this.

“therapy normally helps with this kind of sadness— when you’re disassociating,” frankie joked, laughing at the way he jumped when she spoke. he was way out of this world that he didn’t even here her approach. she knew what he was thinking about, but she remained quiet as his lips curled up widely.

“therapy doesn’t answer much,” he quipped, “you just offload everything and they’d just pull one thing out of what you just spilled and make a big deal out of it. that’s what i heard at least.”

“don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” frankie scoffed, leaving him to chuckle as she leaned closer and nudged him. “c’mon, jens. out with it.”

“wha’?” he asked before he defended himself, “‘m having a bloody time with my little friends in here. why did you come back?”

“the bar isn’t the best place to look for love,” frankie joked, “‘sides, you normally don’t keep your mouth shut so it’s safe for me to assume that you aren’t pissed. you’d be chattin’ me ears off about how much you love me and how guilty you were crashing to me last race if you were drunk.”

“mmm, yea, i suppose i’m not drunk,” he hummed. “not enjoying this bar.”

“why?”

“the bar isn’t the best place to look for love,” he echoed her words back at her, now staring at her eyes. “‘sides… i don’t need to be drunk to tell you more about loving you. should you care to listen.” she froze in her seat, her smile dropping as he continued to look at her without any hesitation.

one of them had be to extremely intoxicated to be saying something like this, but frankie knew for a fact that he wasn’t anything like that. she knew his alcohol tolerance as much as she knew what the colour of her knickers she wore tonight.

but he seemed to be extremely serious.

he spoke a lot of his love before. but most of those times, he’d act like he hadn’t remembered it the next morning. she told him that she loved him, and when he asked her about it the next morning she pretended as if she was extremely drunk because of the endless lines of shot glasses waiting for her. as if they were saying that there wasn’t any right place to say ‘i love you’ unless you’re four shots in at a soddy club or something.

affections in the wrong places and confessions were done at the poorest conditions of their life.

frankie thought that it was getting too old — confessing at the wrong time. maybe jenson knew that too— seeing as he was sober enough to look at her dead in the eyes while he said those words. about not finding love at a bar full of sad single people.

it was funny how that worked because their first proper conversation occurred on their first 1-2 win celebration. that’s when they found each other in one bed and falling in love right after.

“so,” she trailed off, glancing down at his lips before looking up at him. “what do we do then?”

“what do we do—“ jenson scoffed at the question. it wasn’t anything to ridicule him; she was genuinely unsure about the next step. “we’re obviously not drunk enough to shag each other and pretend as if we’re both lying to ourselves.”

“that’s true,” frankie nodded.

“and if i’m hearing it right,” he shifted in his seat. “then we could just head back and take this all in. then maybe… a date?”

she stood up, turning in his direction as he gave her a confused look. she stretched her hand in his direction and said, “c’mon. i’ve to pay my drinks.”

“you need me for that?”

“so we’re not going back to my room and cuddle?” frankie raised a brow.

“right,” he grabbed her hand, stumbling as he was pulled up to stand. she giggled at his little movement, earning a grin from the british man as he stood next to her. looking down at her, his hand rested on her face and his thumb caressed her cheek. he leaned down to kiss her lips, tasting nothing but strawberries on her mouth.

they were both happy with their decision to complain about their situation. otherwise, they’d be in their hotels, being miserable about not having one another unless they wanted to get off.

pulling away, he sighed in relief as he told himself, “fucking finally.”

[smoooothoperator]

Save Your Tears

03: Stuck With U

Driver! Mick Schumacher x opera singer! OC (Ophelia Becker)

Strangers to friends to lovers, love at first sight, long plane flight, personal drama, opera references

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: turbulences

a/n: New part!! This is special because it's important for both characters. To Ophelia, that finds someone that is intersted on her job, and to Mick, that finds someone that is intersted on his job and not on his name or his fame. Oh, and I make a cameo on the header of this chapter, the picturs on the left side is from last week, I actually performed "Romeo et Juliette" the opera :) (I'm the first one on the stairs starting on the right)

Btw, do you want me to make a playlist? If that's so, what type of music do you want me to add?

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Masterlist

previous part | next part

There was something in him that made her calm. Maybe it was his golden retriever vibes, his blue eyes and smile. Or how his raspy voice sounded when he talked to her. 

She can't understand.

But the moment they first connected their gazes, she felt her own brain shivering. She could feel how her body shook like if a electric shock.

The moment she followed him inside the plane and watched how he stopped in the business seats, she smiled. And when she saw his backpack she just laughed. 

What type of cliche is this?

His smile was something that made her heart be calm. She wanted to be next to him for a while.

"Oh, you two know each other?" the flight attendant asked, looking at them smiling at each other.

"Yeah… we met a while ago" Mick answered for her.

"Oh, love stories in airports are the best" she smiled. "You two look so lovely, have a nice flight"

Ophelia blushed, looking how Mick didn't even deny anything. But wasn't he in love with that girl?

"Well…" she smiled weakly, sitting and looking at her lap.

"Well…" Mick smiled, imitating her. "We are going to be nearly thirteen hours together, so… why don't we get to know each other a little more?"

Ophelia took a deep breath and looked at him, watching how he smiled. His smile hides something, anxiety and fear.

Getting to know someone… How does it even work? Even since she was a little girl, no one wanted to be near her. They always called her the music nerd, the one that couldn't go to the park to play with her classmates because she had to stay at home to practice and study piano, the one that had to skip classes because her mother had to travel to another country to make a concert, the one that had good grades on music class. 

Whenever she tried to make a friend, they always ignored her. 

"We don't like that type of music"

"Nah, that's so classic, so old fashioned"

"What are you, a granny?"

When she started music school, people already knew who she was. Her teachers knew who her mother was. What happens when your mother is famous?

"Hey, can you find me some tickets?"

"Oh, Ophelia. Can you ask your mother if she needs someone to work with her?"

"Ophelia, how is your mom doing? As great as always, eh?"

"Ophelia Becker, you should be doing better, you are the daughter of one of the greatests"

"I was expecting better, knowing who is your mother"

"You would be a disappointment for your mother if you keep doing if this way"

Exactly. They expect nothing but greatness, or a way to be close to her mother.

She always thought that she was better alone, only having the people she needed to work with near: her manager, her pianist and her mother.

But now… she lost one of them. And the most important of them.

Why would she need friends? Maybe contacts that can find her some work and colleagues that would want to work with her or recommend her to other people.

That's how this world works. You can't be friends with anyone because they will always want your work. 

So when someone out of her world asks her to know something about her… how should she react? What should she talk about? She barely knows him… she should say everything?

"W-well… you already know I'm an opera singer" she mumbled, feeling how the palms of her hands were getting sweaty.

"Yeah" Mick nodded. "It's exciting? Like… I don't know. Singing in front of many people… does it make you nervous?"

"Oh, you have no idea" she chuckled. "When I started I didn't have problems with that. It was so natural sitting in the chair in front of the piano"

"You play piano too?" he asked, surprised.

"Y-yeah" she nodded. "But… yeah. Once you get older you see the world with different eyes. You notice how people judge, how… how they see you or talk about you"

"And that made you nervous" he nodded. "Yeah, I know how that feels"

"Really?" she asked, surprised too. 

"Yeah… my work is all about that" he smiled weakly. "You have to be the best out there, perform perfectly and don't make mistakes. Some years ago… well, it wasn't my best season. I had a lot of crashes and it cost a lot of money. I made my team lost a lot of money"

"You had crashes?" she gasped. 

"Yeah, like… two or three" he smiled weakly. "But I was fine. The thing is that my boss wasn't happy because of that and he didn't want me for the next season"

"Oh… I'm sorry" she smiled weakly. 

"Perks of having a father that is a legend of the sport…" he smiled weakly, sadly. 

Ophelia looked at him surprised. He has an important father too? Maybe he understands… No, maybe not. Maybe it's something completely different.

"My mom is important too" she mumbled. Is… was.

"Yeah? That's amazing" he smiled. 

"Mhm" she sighed, nodding slowly.

Amazing? Yeah, sometimes. Unless they use you to get to her.

"So… Romeo and Juliet?" Mick asked, crossing his arms. "And you are Juliet? How is it?"

"Nice" she nodded. "It's actually my debut in opera"

"What? No way!" he gasped. "Where can I watch it? YouTube? It's already posted?"

What is this? Someone interested in her work? Someone interested in her?

"Eh… my manager recorded it" she smiled weakly. "I can ask her if she can send it to me"

"Wait, really? I can watch it?" 

"Of course" she nodded.

She felt weird. Usually she's the only one that watches her own concerts, maybe with her mom so she can tell her what she can improve or what went well. Or even with her manager and pianist, to correct things or to cut them and post them on their social media. 

A stranger, out of the people that goes to see her concerts and only throws praises at her just to get close to her, never asked about watching something like that. Why would they?

"An opera is not like a musical" she mumbled, grabbing her backpack and opening her laptop, searching the file with a recording of the opera. 

"Yeah, I know" he nodded, smiling. 

Ophelia nodded, taking a deep breath. She grabbed her earphones and gave him one of them. Is this how are they going to spend the next three hours? Watching her concert?

"It's in french?" he asked surprised after hearing the first words the choir sang. "You know french?"

"A little, yeah" she nodded. "I sing in different languages"

"Oh that's so cool" he chuckled, paying attention to the screen again. "Oh, that's you!"

She looked at him, blushing. He looks like a kid watching a movie. 

He looks at the screen the way she looked at her mom singing.

"There's no way! You can sing that high? Oh God" he gasped, making her Ile grow a little bit more. "But your speaking voice is so… low? How can you do that?"

"Practice and practice" she smiled.

Mick nodded, smiling, understanding that. To get better he has to practice too. 

He watched the whole opera, clapping silently at her, letting some tears fall in emotional moments, gasping when he saw how she acted as Juliet Capulet.

"You really have a lot of energy" Ophelia joked, making him frown. 

"Is not the first time I heard that" he smiled. "The golden retriever vibes, right?"

"Exactly!" she laughed.

She laughed. For the first time that night, she laughed.

"No, but… it's amazing" he smiled looking at the screen, how the final act of the opera was playing. "You are so good in this, Ophelia"

"Thank you" she smiled, touched by his words.

A little more silence, sharing the earphones while looking how the end of the opera was coming.

Mick watched how the ending was more and more heart whelming, how the acting of Ophelia and the man that acts as Romeo was heartbreaking. He could hear how their voices full of emotions were at the edge of crying. 

Ophelia looked at him, at Mick. She could see how his eyes were getting red, how he started biting his lip trying to not cry. She felt grateful for it, watching how he appreciated something like this and showed it like that.

"Wow" he sighed, sniffling softly and taking off the earphone, then looking at her. "Just… wow"

She chuckled softly, taking off her earphone and blushed. He was amazed, watching her with adoration in his eyes.

"Next time you have a concert just invite me" he asked. "This is… Wow"

She smiled softly, looking at how his blue eyes were wet. It touched her, how he reacted to her singing.

"Just a question" he smiled. "The kisses weren't real? Because, my God! Those seemed pretty real!"

"No, no" she laughed softly. "It's a theater kiss. I kissed under his lips and him above mine. We used our hands to make it look real"

"Oh…" he nodded, impressed, looking at her lips.

Silence again. He scrolled through his phone and she replied to emails. Even if the sears were big, since they were in business, they stayed close. His knee was touching hers and she was leaning on his arm, their shoulders touching.

"Oh, you want to watch one of my races?" he asked, looking at her. 

"What? Yeah!" she smiled. "Of course. But not one where you crash"

"Oh please, I'm not that silly" he chuckled. 

He smiled, looking how she gave him her laptop and he just searched for a race, one he can show and feel proud of himself.

"Here, Canada 2025" he said, placing the laptop back on the table.

Ophelia never watched a race like this. But watching all the action, the cars going fast and watching all the overtakes… it was exciting.

"You drive for Mercedes?" she asked after watching the logo of the brand on his black suit. 

"Yeah" he smiled proudly. "After having that terrible year after losing my seat, the boss of Mercedes talked with me and I became the reserve driver. But now an official driver"

"That's amazing, Mick" she smiled softly. "You deserve it"

He smiled, feeling his chest getting warm, and continued watching the race. 

He remembers how it was. He ended in the points position, but yet so far to touch the podium. He still remembers getting out of the car and watching all his team run towards the fences where the first three drivers parked their cars, cheering for George, sitter of the second place podium. 

But watching her look at the race, how she smiled, following with her eyes the cars and looking to the left searching for him, it touched him so much. 

"Hey, ending in the top ten is good… right?" she asked. "You've got…"

"Six points" he smiled weakly. "In that race I've got six points"

"That's good!" she exclaimed, smiling softly.

They watched the race, until they felt the plane shaking. 

"No, no…" Ophelia mumbled, closing her eyes tightly and holding his hand.

"Hey, Ophelia" he frowned. 

"I can't. I can't die! God, this was such a bad idea. I hate this!"

The levels of joy she reached with him, watching how his smile and adoration towards her made her heart feel warm, was now being changed into fear. 

Fear of falling. Fear of dying. Fear of now seeing her mother one last time. Fear of not being successful as her mother was. Fear of not portraying her last name how she's expected to do. Fear of failing everyone.

"Ophelia!"

Her eyes snapped open, letting her see those blue eyes looking directly at her. He was cupping both of her cheeks to make her look at him.

How can his eyes be so blue? Are those freckles on his cheeks and nose? He has moles… how many?

"Take a deep breath, okay?" he whispered, nodding slowly. "Nothing will happen, yeah? It was just a little turbulence, the plane is alright"

"Okay" she whispered, hearing her own voice being little.

"Do you want to watch a movie to get distracted?" Mick asked, taking his warm palms away from her cheeks and making her sigh.

"Yeah, please" she mumbled. "Which one do you propose?"

"Hm… Cars?" he chuckled. "My dad voiced a character there?"

"Really?"

He could feel she was still shocked, how her voice was so little and how slow she talked. He only nodded, searching the movie on her laptop and placing the earphone on her ear.

When the turbulence started, her hand was holding him so tight that he actually got worried for her. He saw how her eyes were closed tightly and how she prayed in her lower voice, panicking and begging for dear life.

So he stayed close to her. When the movie started, he placed his arm on the armrest between their seats, holding her hand tight and rubbing his thumb on her skin.

There's something on her that makes him want to be close.

"Is that your dad?" she asked when he saw him smile.

"Eh… yeah" he smiled, happy to hear his dad's voice. "Yeah, it's him"

"Michael Schumacher?" Ophelia whispered. 

"Yeah" he nodded, somehow feeling his heart beating fast hearing her say his last name. 

"Mhm" she nodded, getting closer to him and hugging her legs close to her chest.

When the movie ended, both of them were tired, feeling how his eyes were getting swollen because of the need for sleep. 

"I'll go wash my teeth" Ophelia yawned, grabbing her little toilet bag and getting up.

"Y-yeah, I'll go too " he said, doing the same as her.

Both of them walked towards the bathroom of the plane, finding the door locked with someone already inside of it.

Both of them stood there, face to face and close to each other because of the lack of space on the corridor.

"Are you feeling better?" Mick whispered, looking down at her.

They were so close that he could smell her scent, a mix of her perfume and her shampoo: fruits with vanilla.

"Yeah" she whispered, looking up at him.

They were so close that she could smell his scent, even see how his beard was showing a little on his jaw and chin, making her smile. He smells like aftershave and a manly perfume: citric and clean.

Her eyes went to his lips, and somehow she couldn't look away from them. 

He saw her looking at his lips, and he had to fight himself to not lick them and kiss her. They are so close, he only has to lean a little on her and he could just… He reached for her hand, making his fingers touch her rings while he fought against his own desires.

"Eh… the bathroom is free" 

Ophelia gasped softly, taking a step away and looking at the man that got out of the bathroom, blushing and clearing her throat.

"Eh… I'll be quick" she mumbled looking at Mick.

Before he could say something, the door of the bathroom was already locked, making him sigh and mess his hair with his fingers.

"Oh, wow…" he sighed, biting his lips with a small smile.

Ophelia looked at her reflection in the mirror, brushing her teeth and frowning.

"Why did you do that?" she whispered. "God… Stupid, stupid!"

But… she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to kiss him.

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @lorarri @musingsbyshreya @vellicora

[vagabond-umlaut]

meet you where the sky meets the earth

to love is to listen to your heart, not your brain. to dream whilst in love, is to make your brain listen to your heart.

▸ gojo satoru x fem!reader; former teacher x former student [gojo is six yrs older than reader]; bittersweet fluff; you're so in love w satoru, it shd hurt- but it doesn't because you've grown numb to the ache; one-sided feelings [are they really?]; few mentions of food; gojo calls you 'cookie'; this is way too tender even for me, istg; 1.5k wc

▸ belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna! 😊

▸ the header is from pinterest, the dividers are by @benkeibear, the characters used here aren't mine. pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this. hope y'all enjoy reading this ❤️❤️

the first time you think of marrying gojo, you're only twenty years old.

hardly the age to be dreaming of wedding bells at, right?

yeah, right. that's very, very right— still, your heart is your heart, just how your brain is your brain, the former easily swaying the latter by a few skipped beats— and you find your cheeks growing warm, laughs stumbling past your lips as you place the box of cornflakes into your shopping cart.

gojo sputters from beside you, eyes comically wide behind his shades as they dart from you to the elderly woman before.

you take a second to compose yourself before answering the ask that created this mess in the first place, a polite smile lining your face, "oh, no– not at all, ma'am! we're not married. i'm just an old friend helping him with the groceries, haha."

"oh," that's the only thing the woman says in reaction, kind smile now a tiny frown before it reappears. and she apologises, "i'm sorry, dears. just thought you two to be newlyweds from how giddy and loving you seemed to each other... time i went for an eye check-up, yes?"

"hey, please don't be sorry..." you start to say, but before you can get any further, the woman has already walked away with her shoppping basket.

you fall silent.

the same way the man next to you too has grown quiet, an awkward silence taking up the foot between you both. until you break it with a strained chuckle.

"we were acting giddy and loving to each other, eh?"

"were we?" comes the contemplative question to your comment. you look up to find gojo looking at you, the blue of his eyes weirdly bright in the dim lights of the supermarket as he repeats, "were we, cookie?"

yes. no. you don't really know—

yes, 'cause you know you love him.

not since forever, no, but close enough to it: your once-fascination for the supposed mortal deity of the jujutsu world, the mitochondrion on which the cellular structure of the society banks to survive; that grew into something made of wonder, respect and fondness, as you slowly came to know not only the icon but also the man behind it; that grew into something so profound, nestling deep within your existence– so much so that you feel the earth shifting on its axis everytime he calls you or grins at you or just looks in your direction—

no, 'cause you know you aren't loved back.

not the way you wish to be... not that you blame gojo for that, though!

you know he is way too busy to be thinking of such topics– what with being the strongest sorcerer ever, the head of the one-man gojo clan, the teacher to the first-years at tokyo high, the legal guardian– but in fact, the father figure to the two kids, 'gumi and 'miki– or maybe, just maybe, he is busy, alright, but not too busy— gojo simply doesn't see you that way; he sees you to be nothing but his former student— one he knows he can rely on to help with his children, or the groceries, or a variety of other menial daily tasks he can just hire help for—

you don't know.

yeah... you really, really don't know– and by now, you think you don't even want to know anymore. it's easy, it's safe, it's nice to remain not knowing. the word 'yes' comes with too many dreams– the word 'no' serves the perfect haven to nightmares.

the three words "i don't know" bear no such burden on their back– an untroubled answer you decide to offer, decide to escape using for the time being— until a slight knock on the head interrupts you, followed by an entertained set of chortles.

you peer up to find gojo beaming down at you, his eyes crinkled and cheeks dimpled. something twists in the middle of your chest, but it isn't painful; it's grounding. pleasant, even.

"it's too easy to get you worried, y'know? you're unbelievably easy to manipulate, heh."

"oh, am i now?" you retort, eyes narrowing into a cross glare– only to be betrayed by the fond smile grazing your lips not even a beat later. the man hums, grin simmering down to a knowing smile.

"mmhm," he says with that musical sway to his tone that never fails to make your fingers tingle, "you should have seen your face when i asked you the question– so pale and stiff– almost as if i was asking you to leave then and there, hearing that granny's comments—"

"you would have asked me to, if they were true– wouldn't you?"

gojo's smile vanishes in the blink of an eye. and you think the hand he has stretched out to the shelves of biscuits might fall too– but it does not, and you see him take a packet of your favourite bourbon biscuits followed by a packet of the digestives you've been forcing him to eat, and place them into the cart.

he checks the shopping list in your hand before he looks back at you.

before he smiles back at you: so soft, so solemn, so un-satoru— you instantly regret interrupting him with such a question.

but you do know how it is, don't you? what with a thudding heart and a thinking brain...

the handle of the cart digs deep indents into your palm as you press the weight of your worries into the cool metal and lean towards your companion on this grocery run, the same way a moth flies towards a flame, towards its doom–

"don't you ever dream of falling in love, gojo-san?" you let your voice drop to a murmur, audible only to you and the object of your desires, the subject of your worries, "do you not dream of a happily ever after with your 'one'– do you, gojo-san?"

"no," the response to your words comes in the very same instant. the man's shades slip a touch down the bridge of his nose as he pins his sharp gaze on you– though it can do nothing to hide the mild tremor in his grin from you when he says, "and i don't plan on dreaming ever. dreaming is only for fools with too much time to spare– do i look like a fool with too much time to spare, cookie?"

no. not at all. you don't. you look the farthest from it, in fact— is what you know you should say, and just drop the matter. for now. forever—

but you don't... just don't.

retorting instead, still a murmur but with the faint lick of a fire now, "and what do you suggest should be done to those fools, gojo-san? punished severely for their grievous crime of dreaming, hm?"

"oh, don't be too harsh," he tuts with a breezy chuckle, "what people do is honestly their business; one i've got no interest in interfering in— but..." his grin twists into something wry, a change you find tough to tear your gaze away from, "i don't think i would give such folks the time of my day– it's simply not worth it to talk with those whose feet are not on the solid ground, floating around meaninglessly in air–"

"why are you talking with me then?"

interrupted, gojo blinks. once, and twice, then thrice.

you watch your face crumple in the dark tint of his shades, withering and cracking in the dull light and stale air of this stupid supermarket; but definitely not as stupid as you:

messing things up when they're perfectly fine and alright, only 'cause you do not, rather cannot, keep your mouth shut, no matter what– all your inhibitions let gone of as your heart gains control over your brain and your stupid damned mouth—

you feel a tiny knock on your forehead, the second time this evening, followed by strands of hair being gently brushed away; too careful for your breath to not get stuck in your chest. you peer up at the man in front, teeth lightly gnawing the inside of your lower lip.

gojo's features shift into something between fond and worried– you just hope you aren't misreading him right now– the man tucks those strands of hair behind the shell of your ear.

his fingers still right above your jaw, touching yet not really touching, features finally, finally, settling into a smile– "maybe because i enjoy talking with you, cookie, no matter how foolish you are."

some people say, marriage is a holy act, a sacred institution, in and of itself— connecting hearts, binding souls– cementing the promises of staying together forever... whilst few see marriage to be meaningless— paltry affair of papers and signatures and people, none bearing any significance, 'cause nothing can, not when it comes to the matters of the hearts, neither in proving nor in disproving them–

no matter what people think, you think you will be okay, irrespective of whether you marry gojo or not, irrespective of whether gojo loves you or not– provided– and this is a weird, still important 'provided'—

you and he end up shopping together in the supermarket, feeling and seeming so happy and comfortable with each other— others mistake you for a pair of newlyweds, blissfully deep in love.

tysm to my dearest andy [@andysdrafts], mimi [@avatarofstars] & dilay [@roseqzpd] for constantly motivating me while i was writing this. ilysm my darlings 😘😘😘

masterlist

[bi-widower-dads]

bi-widower-dads' February Fic Recs: Canon

Thank you to everyone who submitted recs for us! We've done some sorting and collating, and we've got two posts for you: AUs and Canon-'verse - and a whole load of excellent fic for you to get stuck into while we wait for Barduil Month in April! Without further ado, here are the canon fic recs, featuring tags, links, summaries, and all the reasons why the recommenders think you should give these fics a try!

Header image by mod @piyo-13!

(a note about tags and trigger warnings: tags are selected from those on AO3 as being those that best describe the story for the purposes of this event; trigger warnings are supplied by the recommenders and may not be comprehensive - your mileage may vary. We've tried our best to include Tumblr handles wherever we can, but if we've missed yours out and you want it included, just let us know!)

One-shots

Scenes From a Not-So-Clandestine Romance by MasterofAllImagination / @cutlerbeckettt | G | 3258 words | tags: 5+1 things, so much fluff it's sickening, seriously don't even read this

Summary: As the relationship between Bard and Thranduil grows beyond merely that of two allies, they become proportionately blind to how obvious their displays of affection are to their people. Pretty soon their feelings are an open secret shared among everyone in Mirkwood and Dale-- except the kings themselves. (or, five times someone caught Bard and Thranduil secretly kissing, and the one time they did it in public) What do you love about this fic? The author's completely correct that this is just So Much Fluff. It's great, it's cozy, it's a palate cleanser that makes you go "aww" and giggle a little at how oblivious they are.

We'll lay here for years or for hours by bispecimen | M | 5000 words | tags: canon divergence, different first meeting, animal death, hunting, could be considered canon compliant since it still works w future events, dilf vs dilf parenting techniques, canon-typical violence

Summary: "The leaves were rolling, green and healthy. Swirling around the legs of the Bowman as if they were about to bring some magical creature in his presence. But Bard didn’t feel like anything good was about to be brought in front of his eyes. The stillness of the air was suffused with something nocive. This part was forbidden for a reason. The deeper he went, the longer he stayed. He knew, he knew that." What do you love about this fic? Am possibly biased because I did the art for this, but lovely and lyrical!

but the sun is eclipsed by the moon by RC_McLachlan | G | 5288 words | tags: none

Summary: The Battle of the Five Armies threatened to unmake the world, but The Negotiations of the Three Kings might actually succeed. Or, a short lesson on the lifecycle of dandelions. What do you love about this fic? Great writer I've followed for a long time!

more than words can wield the matter by BiSquared / @scary-grace | M | 5422 words | tags: cultural differences, love letters, miscommunication, accidental marriage, getting together, laws and customs of the eldar are somewhat followed, POV Bard the Bowman, post-BotFA, as canon-compliant as barduil gets

Summary: It might be uncommon, but Bard knows it’s not unheard of for humans to share a single night of passion and part ways in the morning – or if not to part ways, then at least never to meet as lovers again. Apparently it’s unheard of among elves, because the first letter that arrives from Mirkwood, two weeks after the elves’ departure for their forest, is significantly less businesslike than expected. What do you love about this fic? The premise is funny enough that it could have come across as crack, but it creates actual narrative tension and a satisfactorily cathartic ending.

The Well-Worn Path of Words by Ias | T | 10,725 words | tags: letters, slow burn, pining, miscommunication, love confessions, epistolary

Summary: It wasn't so strange that Thranduil would call him a friend. And yet the word seemed to draw them closer like a length of string, binding them together, yet still so fragile. [In which Thranduil and Bard begin writing each other letters over the long winter after the battle.] What do you love about this fic? Fantastic epistolary fic from a great Barduil author!

Multi-chapter (in progress)

Language of the Forest by BaccaratBlack | T | 1,095 words | tags: victorian flower language, sort of unrequited feelings, cultural differences, cultural misunderstandings, courtship, secret admirer

Summary: Bard is perplexed by elven courtship rituals. Thranduil is very determined and unaccustomed to not having his way. What do you love about this fic? Who doesn't like a fic with the themes of courtship, flowers and a "secret" admirer?

Multi-chapter (complete)

A Tale of Love and Longing (as told by Galion) by jotunblood | T | 39,288 words | tags: courtship, secret relationship, developing relationship, sexual tension, light angst, post-BotFA, slow burn, Galion POV, Galion is a good friend

Summary: Galion knew all the almost imperceptible ways joy, anguish, and hate could change his King’s face. He also knew-- Thranduil’s denial be damned-- exactly how he looked when he was pining. What do you love about this fic? We see Thranduil's and Bard's relationship develop through Galion's POV and he's the best BFF/Wing Man a King could ask for.

Blossoming Spring by SlytherinImpala | T | 56,210 words | tags: fluff, post-BotFA, snark, slow burn, healing, friends to lovers, scars, movie canon, first kiss, getting together

Summary: Bard and Thranduil meet again as winter gives way to spring following of the Battle of Five Armies. What do you love about this fic? I love the gentle snarkiness between the 2 characters and how they slowly learn to open up to one another. They feel very in character and when they fall in love it doesn't feel abrupt. Definitely worth a read if you love a gentle Barduil slowburn.

Series

The Kings of the North by Evandar | T | 14,240 words | tags: partial fix-it, interspecies romance, fluff, blind thranduil, self-esteem issues, communication

Summary: There is unease in the north, as old alliances must be rebuilt and leadership learned. Bard is confused, mostly by King Thranduil, and King Fili is determined to be the best king he can be. Sigrid, meanwhile, wishes things could go back to the way they were. What do you love about this fic? This was one of the first series I ever read for barduil and definitely played a huge role in getting me into the ship in the first place!

Boundaries 'Verse by Sir_Nemo | T | 30,967 words | tags: fluff, getting to know each other, getting together, family bonding

Summary: Bard has been working for the elves for years, never actually meeting one, until one day he notices an elf watching him work. The elf becomes a constant in his life, and the two of them slowly start warming up to each other. What do you love about this fic? Bard and Thranduil's personalities really shine through in their conversations, which I feel is a core component of the plot, and makes for a very stable relationship that the story can lean on.

[clairedaring]

tag game ✨

huge thank you to the lovely zey @thasorns for thinking of me. i love you too (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

1. why did you choose your url?

no one remembers her but claire dearing from jurassic world will always hold a special place in my heart.

2. any sideblogs? if you have them name them and why you have them.

poomphuripan - the bl sideblog that i started just because my main got deactivated for a bit but i guess for now, it's mostly uppoom and msi-focused. in december, it'll probably be torjj and spare me your mercy-focused. i think i'll probably just be using these for the ql series i have a crazy hyperfixation about.

huiyanan - a pentagon yanan/hui focus sideblog

coryjeacoma - my musical theatre sideblog for random audio bootlegs and sometimes musical gifs

ryuvachirawich - my unused (mostly lakorn) gifs blog for extra gifs i make but that doesn't make it into any main or sideblogs. at first i was trying to keep this sideblog lowkey but then i needed to tag the gifs w my gif tag anyway so i could search for them so disclosing is fine 🤣

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

2014... what do you mean it's been a decade since i started using tumblr.... time isn't real

4. do you have a queue tag?

i tried but i've given up on queue-ing in general so i don't. my tumblr is constantly in two modes: super active or going months without a single post lmaoooo.

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

i wanted to be where all the gifmakers are but i have too much interests so this shall remains a multi-fandom blog or more like a "whatever media claire is consuming atm" blog 

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

dirk gently is the single most perfect holistic detective in existence. sometimes i'm too attached to my url and my icon, i don't think i can ever change them. headers i can but i haven't changed my url/icon for 3-4 years i think.

7. why did you choose your header?

i feel you linger in the air is THAT series for me. dethroned almost every other thai series on my all time fave list (i say almost because bad genius series is still holding its crown well)

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

i just checked and apparently it's my first and only merlin gifset 😅

9. how many mutuals do you have?

i have no idea but i love all my mutuals （づ￣3￣）づ╭❤️～

10. how many followers do you have?

i hit 1k recently. crazy to me because i've left this tumblr empty for months before starting being active again last october???

11. how many people do you follow?

4000+ but that's only because i'm too lazy to unfollow people. so yea i rarely see things on my dash. i just end up scrolling through my fave gifmakers tags to find things they make.

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

i don't think so????? i mean the closest is probably me saying super random things on this tag.

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

it used to be once a week... but these days it's really a daily routine lmao. although i'm pretty sure i'll leave my tumblr dusting once my stand-in ends... who knows... we'll see...

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

how can i? i'm so non-confrontational, i reblog things in private to argue with op 😭 lmao (arguments that op will never see lmao, i'm saving them and me both the trouble really). just enfp things.

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts

huh why do i never get them on my dash (⊙x⊙;)

16. do you like tag games?

sometimes i forget but i love being tagged in them because i get to know about all the great mutuals i have on here, especially music tags because i always get incredible new music recommendations

17. do you like ask games?

apparently i had my asks closed without knowing for quite some time so i haven't received asks for so long. maybe one day i'll do them but i have bad records of answering asks so ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

i'm not sure if being THE certified way apologist/way gifmaker qualifies her as tumblr famous but maybe sasa @zhouxiangs is the most famous mutual i have

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

let's call this mutuals whose editing skills i wanna steal (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

lana @sherrymagic whenever you see me reblogging lana's joe sets every week, you'll see me gushing about the consistency in her coloring and that's because that's something i'm obsessed with, especially considering my stand-in's grim/dark cinematographic coloring. also i don't know how lana chooses the perfect lines from each eps to do her recap sets because most of the times i can't even choose between which scenes to gif.

eva @alienwlw eva makes the most beautiful lyrics set and is willing to do my most niche requests and i'm always looking forward to seeing her gifs because it's always so warm and grainy and crisp and i'm just like wahhhh *heart eyes emoji* every time

20. tags?

no pressure tagging anyone today ヾ(⌐■_■)ノ♪