#which is true !!! but then why are ALL OF YOU complaining to me and only me
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Stealing this image from twitter and bringing it over here, because holy shit, some of the clowns I have been seeing talk about the game lately.
#Novice Network is a toxic waste pit right now#filled to the brim with returners who think they’re hot shit talking about ‘If Square really thought a cutscene was important they would hav#e put voice acting in it’ and other shit like that#‘I just skip all non voiced because the voiced cutscenes recap all that boring shit anyway”’#no they don’t???#Is THIS what a new Expac brings out?#because it’s genuinely dreadful#do you even enjoy the game at that point? Complain about fetch quests complain about the dialogue complain about the writing quality#why not just go play a game you like???#It’s getting to the point where I just have my chat log closed most of the time#not leaving NN because it WAS really nice during the post-Endwalker patch cycle#when mostly only people who actually liked the game (????) were still playing.#but the amount of toxic attitude returners I’ve seen in there lately is disheartening.#I hope it’ll come back down in the following weeks#once they’ve burnt through Dawntrail and decided the game doesn’t have anything for them#and they’ve sufficiently wasted their time#instead of just… taking it slow and taking in the world and the sights and the story……..#I’ve heard that Dawntrail is basically ARR 2. Which. big if true.#Because we could use that.#A return to form#with the new systems and developments in the game#bringing the story back down a little bit and reining it in#I am VERY excited to get there some day.#but I know that these people I’m bitching and moaning about aren’t thrilled#(honestly that just makes me like it more)#Anyway#point is#if you’re playing a game why the hell aren’t you engaging with said game?#What’s the point of skipping to the end as fast as possible only to get annoyed when there’s no more content?#This is exactly the problem that I’ve heard ex-WoW players complain about with regards to their player base
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help! i actually have to use my sewing machine
#i haaaate seaming#thats not true im dramatic i just only wanna hand sew rn but that requires me to do all the other shit first#which also includes uuuuh. actually patterning the collar. which will take me 10 minutes mind you im just lazy#i just wanna sit down and go through my obscene watchlist and sew on 50 ft of soutache is that too much to ask#also mind you: i havent actually designed the soutache motif. which i need to do first#this is why im a technician and not a designer. no drawing only sewing while complaining about what the designer drew#i should have texted one of my friends they would have drawn something outrageous for me and id love#char.txt
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god i need therapy and to move out
#aka i need to move out#idk how much longer i can take listening to my parents just say shit and have opinions and then expect me to feel the same way#and when i disagree suddenly i’m siding with the wrong people#when quite literally i’m trying to make you understand that your thoughts are not the only thoughts to be considered#while also trying to validate their feelings but that they’re not communicating at all and are taking it out on ppl#i am so so so tired of being the constant middleman between my family members and ultimately having to hear everyone say shit abt everyone#and expect me to immediately agree or understand#like girlies you can all be wrong and you all are and the fact that you aren’t willing to admit your wrongdoings is your first problem#your second was expecting me to hype you up and encourage your behavior#having to constantly remind myself that it’s not my responsibility to keep the peace or to solve my familial issues#and the one time i tried to explain this it was met with ‘no one’s asking you to’#which is true !!! but then why are ALL OF YOU complaining to me and only me#why are you burdening me with all of this information#and if i tell you i can’t handle it or don’t want to talk about it i’m suddenly the bad guy too#i can’t win here your honor !!! the only solution in which i win is to get OUT#and of course i can’t make anyone say or do or believe anything#i’m not naive enough to think i can#but sitting there silent isn’t helping and speaking doesn’t either and there’s no other good solution#it’s just exhausting
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on the one hand, i really like working on the script for this video essay. on the other hand, it feels like im just being super negative and and a hater towards the entire toh fandom because they like making their dolls kiss
#im not trying to intentionally bash ships? but I also very rarely care about ships so#im worried this is just gonna come off as “ughhhh I hate fandom because theyre' always shipping stuff and I hate shipping”#which like. thats a little true but I actually do wanna talk about things yk#like why is this ship popular? why is this ship loved/hated by the fandom?#i dont know#like i spent 3 pages tearing into goldric for being boring and only existing bc people love snarky teen mlm#which is like. its true but also feels unecessarily harsh lmao#i dont knowwwwwwwwwwwww#i need more people to bounce ideas off of maybe#bc i am not super involved in the shipping side of fandoms#ive chatted w/ some people but mmmmmmm#idk. im definetly gonna ask if anyone wants to beta read my script but only once I actually. finish it#currently im like. maybe 3/8 of the way through it#lilac post#idk. feel free to talk 2 e about it in the replies of this post or smthn bc I loveeeee this topic#it's also like. The issue of. I feel like I'm making a big deal out of nothing#like someone's gonna come in here and he like “why are you being such a hater we're all just playing around and having fun leave us alone”#I'm not trying to bash any ships!!!#im just trying to be like okay here's what the ship#it's difficult to say what I'm doing#because it's partially A. Documenting of toh fandom and shipping culture#and B. Social commentary about that culture#which is kind of like. A weird balancing act#and it comes back to how much of what I'm complaining about actually matters?#At what point does it turn from thoughtful commentary to me bitching about the general fandom as a whole?#It's kind of difficult to explain what I'm even doing which is mmmmmm#Like does this actually matter?#then again. People make videos about stupid internet drama all the time and that definitely doesn't matter so#maybe I can be self indulgent and a bit of a hater#sigh
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Please stop using disabilities you don't have as comparisons.
I saw a video trying to explain that autistic people don't make eye contact because it can be painful for them (good, this is true) and telling them to "just do it anyway" is ridiculous, saying "you wouldn't tell a wheelchair user to "just walk, its better for you" so don't tell autistic people to just make eye contact".
But people do. They do all the time. It's well documented that doctors will withhold their ok for patients to get a wheelchair (which is needed unless you're paying out of pocket, because insurance and most public disability services like the NDIS need proof from a doctor). I've known people who can hardly walk and are having to fight because the doctor still insists it better for them to walk, even if it's painful and sevearly limiting their quality of life.
Then in the comments, someone pointed out that people do say that to wheelchair users (good, this is true) but then continued on by saying "unless you just don't have legs" which is just as bad as the origonal.
I had to fight to get my first wheelchair as a double leg amputee, and every wheelchair since then I've had to justify not wanting the "better option" (prosthetics) to the government so they'll approve me for the funding. Doctors and even strangers too, all want to know why I'm not walking, why I'm not using prosthetics all the time. When I go on trips with my family I'm told to "just walk" so they don't have to pack my wheelchair. at my own graduation from university I was chastised by the organisers for not bringing my prosthetics (because wearing them was exceptionally painful back then and i hadnt worn them in nearly 3 months. I had asked before if this would be ok. they knew) because the venue was accessible but not the part of the venue the graduates were in. On the topic of university they also put my class in the only non-wheelchair accessible room and held meetings i was expected to take part in, in the non-accessible lunch room. When I complained, I was told to just use my legs for a few minutes so I could get into my classes. Being an amputee with no legs didn't shield me from these experiences either, it often made it worse.
I have all 3 of the disabilities mentioned (autistic, wheelchair user, amputee). If you don't have the disability you're using for a comparison, don't use it. Please
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champagne coast // ln4
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pairing: lando norris X reader
word count: 19k
warnings: cursing and alcohol use
includes: friends to lovers, summer!lando, clueless reader and lando, pining, fluff, and a little angst
summary: when lando and you spend summer break together you don't expect italy to eventually hold such a special place in your heart... or lando and you go on vacation and everyone keeps thinking you're a couple.
playlist for the fic: spotify | apple music
masterlist
─── ༺❀༻ ───
It was the Monday before the Belgium Grand Prix when Lando asked – what are you doing for summer break?
The sun had started to set over the coast, its golden reflection rippling across the water and onto the balcony of Lando’s Monaco apartment. The same balcony that the two of you currently resided on, choosing to share the wicker couch instead of one of you sitting in one of the empty chairs.
You were sat sideways on the couch with your legs crossed, your view consisting more of Lando than the picturesque sunset over the sea. A cheap bottle of pink moscato, which was your favorite, was sitting on the table where Lando had his feet propped up.
He’d always complain about how sweet it was, but then drink more of it than you. In all reality, he’d actually grown to love it because of you, but he’d never tell you that. He’d only been able to find it at one place in Monaco, so when he knew you were coming to visit he always made sure to have a couple bottles on hand and maybe a bottle for himself when he was missing you.
Your eyes met his as you processed his question. This right now was your summer vacation. He surely knew that, right? “Summer break? I don’t have a summer break like you do, Lando.” It was true, you had barely managed to get this week off from work to be able to go to Belgium, let alone have a month off. “I figured me being here for a couple days then going to Belgium would be my vacation.”
A disapproving sigh escapes past his lips as he speaks. “That is not a vacation.”
“Well it sure as hell beats being stuck at an office in London.”
He downed the remainder of the wine in his glass and fully turned his body towards you. His arm resting across the back of the couch, his fingers nearly touching you. “I think you should come with me on vacation.”
You stifle a groan by taking a drink of your wine. “Lando, you know I don’t do Ibiza. It's not my kind of place, especially this time of year.” It was a beautiful place no doubt, but the big party scene was not your favorite. And the couple times you had gone with Lando and your shared friend group it was so chaotic and you had a hangover that lasted for what seemed like a week. So no– Ibiza and you weren’t the best of friends.
“Who said anything about Ibiza?” He’s got a smirk toying at the corners of his lips, you can tell by the way his upper lip twitches slightly. Not that you stare at his lips that much to be able to notice that kind of thing.
“Lando Norris not going to Ibiza during his summer break? Should I alert the press? Did you hit your head? Are you running a fever?” You lean forward to check his temperature, but he playfully swatted away your hand with a giggle before you could get close enough. “Have you broken the news to Fewt-”
That smirk had fully developed across his face as he cut you off. “Who said anything about Max?”
Now you really thought that he’d bumped his head or was slightly tipsy already. You cocked an eyebrow at him in question. “Where are you going then? Especially without Max?”
Lando leaned back, the wicker creaking beneath him, but his eyes were still trained on you. Golden hour had made them even more blue, resembling the crystal blue water that was just a short walk away. “I’m going wherever you want to go.”
“Lando.”
“Y/N.” He’s the one to cock an eyebrow now.
“I can’t go with you.”
His smirk had turned into a pout and he knew how to work those big blue eyes, especially on you. “Why not? Wherever you want to go– we will go. Not many people get that opportunity Y/N.”
You go to take another drink and realize your glass is empty, but before you can reach for the bottle Lando’s already got it in his hands, reaching over slightly to pour you another glass. “Who all is going then if Max isn’t going?”
He sets the bottle back down on the table, hesitating for a moment before speaking. You two are close, probably the closest friend he has compared to Max, but he worries that you won’t be up for what he’s about to suggest. “It would just be me and you.”
You feel your cheeks get hot at his proposal, but you shake it off, blaming it on the wine.
As much as the idea of Lando and you going on a trip together sounds amazing, you just don’t think you can make it work. You live a normal life and being able to just go on lavish trips at the drop of a hat is not something you get to experience, no matter how much Lando wants you to or you would like to.
“I would love to Lan, but I don't think I could get the time off again.” Your finger nervously circles the rim of the wine glass as you contemplate even bringing your other reason up. Mainly because you know what his answer will be, but against your better judgment you take another swig of the wine as liquid courage before telling him the embarrassing truth. “I also just can’t afford it.”
And without skipping a beat he blurts out. “I’ll pay.” You’re immediately shaking your head no, but before you can verbally deny his offer he’s speaking again “Seriously Y/N. I will pay. It’s not a big deal.”
Except him paying your way for this trip is a big deal. Just how it’s a big deal everytime you come and visit him in Monaco and he insists that you don’t spend a dime while you’re here. It’s bad enough that you stay at his place, let alone have him pay for your dinner every night. Or how he is always offering to fly you out to races on your free weekends. Or insisting that the random gifts he gives you don’t cost that much, like you can’t read the designer labels on the boxes or labels.
It makes you feel bad that you can’t offer the same back to him. The constant worry that he might think you are using him for his money makes your stomach hurt because it’s the last thing you’d ever do. He’s one of the most giving and kindest people you know and to be able to call him your best friend is something you treasure. And you truly hope he knows how much you appreciate everything he does for you, but how could he not when you tell him every chance you get.
“Lando, really I cannot let you pay for me to go on vacation. It’s one thing to let me crash at your apartment and for you to get me passes to races, which I appreciate more than you will ever know. But I draw the line at a whole vacation. I don’t want to seem like a freeloader who is using you, that’s honestly the la-”
“Oh my god will you just let me spoil you!” Lando had enough of your endless rambling. Your need to always try and decline his gifts or offerings until he convinces you that you are worthy of them drives him crazy. To Lando there isn’t a person on Earth who deserves everything and more than you. And the fact that he can afford to give you anything you’d ever want tickles him pink. Hell if it was possible, he’d buy you the whole damn universe, even if you hadn’t asked for it.
“I hate that you think– that I would think you’re using me. Never in a million years would I think that. You mean a lot to me Y/N, truly. You’re one the most important people in my life and you deserve everything and more that I give you. If I thought you were using me, I would not be asking you to go on vacation with me, believe me. I love having you around and with us not seeing each other like we used to, I figured a trip with just the two of us would be nice.”
He pauses for a moment as he scoots a little closer to you on the couch, your legs touching as the glow from the sun envelopes around you two. “Now please don’t try and worm your way out of this trip. I’ve missed you so much and if you don’t end up going I think you’re just gonna have to move in with me.”
You roll your eyes at his dramatics, but try not to let his heartfelt words get to your head. “How would I even get the time off work again? Tell them ‘Oh my famous F1 driver best friend wants to take me on a trip. Can I please have some more time off?’ I don’t think that would work.”
“Well I think it would work. Especially if you add in that I’m super hot.”
The giggles that come from you lets you know that you’ve drank your fair share of wine for the evening. “Oh I don’t think they would ever tell me no If I added that in.”
“If they do say no then just quit and I’ll get you a job somehow with McLaren or Quadrant or something. I just really want to go on this trip with you.”
You aren’t sure if it's the wine in your system or the fact that you want nothing more right now than to spend a week with Lando in some beautiful country, without a care in the world. But you ignore every responsible and logical part of you and tell him what he wants to hear.
“Alright. So where are we going then?”
His eyes light up and the smile that spreads across his face is comparable to that first win smile. “That’s all up to you baby.”
Both of your hearts skip a beat at the term of endearment that came from him. His because he can’t believe he let it slip and yours because you can’t believe he called you that so easily. But you both ignore it and you focus on the one place you’d had on your mind since he mentioned taking a trip.
“Italy?” You suggest with a hopeful smile on your face.
He fills up his glass with the last of the fruit juice like wine and holds it up towards you, your glasses clinking together in a toast. “Italy it is then.”
─── ༺❀༻ ───
Six days later an email notification pops up on your phone as you’re sitting in McLaren’s hospitality, talking with Lando’s Mom. You glance at who it’s from, not wanting to be rude and get on your phone mid conversation, but when you see your boss’s contact you can’t help but open it. “I’m sorry, it’s from work.” Cisca waved you off, the conversation had only consisted of why they couldn’t stock better snacks in hospitality, and she knew if work was emailing you on a Sunday it had to be important.
You had emailed them Monday night requesting the time off and when they hadn’t responded by Friday you figured they were denying it. Or firing you for requesting more time off while currently being on a vacation. So to be getting this email on a Sunday had you worried, but as your eyes scanned the email you couldn’t hold back the excitement. By some higher power unbestowed to you, they had granted you the time off.
“Never seen someone so excited over an email from work.” Cisca teased.
“Yeah. Honestly thought I was getting fired, but they approved my time off for the Italy trip Lando and I are taking.” You leaned back in the chair, relief finally washing over you.
“Just the two of you?” Cisca had her suspicions about her son’s feelings towards you and your feelings towards him. She’d secretly hoped the two of you would end up together the first time she met you years ago. She honestly thought you were his girlfriend that day and was surprised when he introduced you as his friend. Then she thought maybe he was hiding your relationship because she had never known her son to bring around a female friend like he had you.
You had attended family dinners, a couple holidays, races, and so many other things that just didn’t seem normal to bring a friend to. They had become so accustomed to you being around that when he finally said that he was bringing home his girlfriend for everyone to meet and you didn’t walk through the door— everyone was a little shell shocked. The relationship didn’t last long and she had her theories as to why. To Cisca there was just no way the two of you didn’t have feelings for eachother, she could see it plain as day, and it drove her crazy that the two of you didn’t see it.
“Yeah. At first I thought he was asking me to go to Ibiza again with everyone and you know me, it’s not my thing. But then he said we could go anywhere I wanted and that it was just me and him, so I chose Italy.” You gathered your things, eager to tell Lando the good news before race time. “You raised a good man, Cisca. I couldn’t ask for a better person in my life than him.”
There’s a smile on her face as she watches you talk about Lando, how your smile never falters and how that twinkle in your eye seems to get brighter the more you talk about him. “Thank you honey. You had better go tell him, hadn’t you?”
“I’ll be back!”
Thankfully Lando’s not that hard to find, he’s in the garage looking over some data on the monitors with Will when you spot him. You stand back out of the way, waiting until he’s done, but as soon as he turns to walk away you’re racing towards him. Your arms flinging around him from behind and you can feel him tense under you, but when he hears your laughter his muscles relax.
“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Lando asks as he turns around to face you, his hands lingering on your hips.
“Hmmm. It may have something to do with work approving my time off.”
That same smile from the other night finds its way onto his face and he’s pulling you into his arms, the two of you swaying back and forth as he nuzzles his head into your neck. “I knew they would approve it, it was meant to be.” His voice tickles your neck as he speaks causing a giggle to escape past your lips.
“Can’t believe we get to spend a week together in Italy.” You state as he releases you from his grip.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You furrow your eyebrows at him, still not sure that he wouldn’t rather be going to Ibiza with his friends.”You’re sure you’re not gonna miss Ibiza?”
His fingers toy with the hem of your shirt as he speaks– his blue eyes boring into yours. “I’d miss you more if I went.” And there isn’t a single ounce of doubt in his words. If he ended up going to Ibiza without you, he’d be at a club wondering what you were doing. Eventually downing one too many shots to try and numb that annoying ache in his chest that forms when you aren’t around. The one that even with you around this week, he had felt occasionally at the idea of you not being able to go to Italy.
The idea of him spending his summer break back in England had crossed his mind a couple times, especially if that meant he got to spend time with you. Luckily though fate was on his side today and he wouldn’t have to deal with that ache for the foreseeable future.
You can feel the slight blush on your cheeks as you process what Lando had said to you and you pray he doesn’t notice it. Just him simply saying he’d miss you if he went to Ibiza should not have you blushing, but here recently it seemed like that was all he could do was make you blush.
A familiar Australian accent hits your ears and around the corner comes Oscar, his hand clamping down on Lando’s shoulder as he comes up behind him. “Y/N. Haven’t seen you in awhile.” His bunny teeth showing as he flashes you a smile.
Your mouth barely opens to speak before Lando’s speaking for you. “I know. She’s been too busy working back in London to come see her favorite person.”
“I’m really such a horrible friend. I’m so sorry Oscar, I really should make more time to see you. In fact, how’s Australia this time of year? I think I might come visit you.” The playful smirk on your face and Oscar’s laugh does nothing to tell Lando that you’re just joking and like a little kid he’s got his arms crossed across his chest with a slight pout on his face.
“Um. I think I’m your favorite person Y/N. Plus you can’t even go to Australia because we are going to Italy.”
Oscar and you can’t help but laugh at Lando’s dramatics, but Oscar wants to tease Lando even further. He knows how his older teammate feels about you, even if Lando won’t give the idea any time of day when Oscar brings it up. Lando had confided in Oscar about his idea to take you on a trip, but Oscar didn’t think he’d actually go through with it. “Italy? Who’s all going? Maybe Lily and I could tag along?”
Lando’s eyes widen at Oscar’s suggestion, mainly because he knows you’d jump at any opportunity to spend time with Lily and this trip was meant to be just for the two of you. “It’s just gonna be me and Y/N…” He trials off, trying to figure out how to nicely tell Oscar that he can’t come.
“There's a month between Singapore and Austin. We should all plan something for then.” You chime in. As much as you would love to spend time with Oscar and Lily, you really want to have this trip just be Lando and you.
Lando’s surprised at you turning down Oscar’s suggestion, but smiles and nods towards Oscar, agreeing with your idea. “Yeah that sounds like a good idea.” Oscar states, a small smirk on his face as he eyes the two of you, fully knowing that you’ll come back from Italy together. And if you don’t Oscar thinks he may have to knock some sense into his teammate.
The driver’s parade was set to start soon, so you tell Oscar you’ll see him around and give Lando a hug, knowing you won’t see him again until after the race. “I’ll see you later, yeah? Be safe and good luck.”
Lando’s grip on you lingers, not wanting to fully let you go just yet, but when they get the final warning that it’s time to go he reluctantly frees you. A small frown on his face as he heads towards the track and you go back to hospitality.
The two McLaren drivers stood side by side on the flatbed of the moving truck, smiles on their faces as they waved at the fans in the grandstands. “Never seen two friends like you and Y/N go on a trip together– alone.” Oscar’s voice is low, there’s an interview going on to his left, but he’s loud enough that Lando can hear him.
Lando keeps looking straight forward as he speaks. “Don’t know what you mean by that.”
“I think you fully know what I mean.”
Max, who was on the other side of Lando, had been eavesdropping the whole time, and couldn’t help but put his two cents in. “If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about. I just want to say, do us all a favor and finally tell her how you feel.”
Lando shook his head at the two drivers. You two were just very close best friends, there wasn’t anything he needed to admit to you. It was just a trip that two best friends were going on and there was nothing more to it– right?
─── ༺❀༻ ───
A week and a half later your plane touches down in Naples and even though the flight from London is only around three hours you want nothing more than to just get to the hotel and relax.
The Uber ride from the airport to the hotel thankfully doesn’t take long and you have no issue with sitting down in the lobby of the hotel with all the luggage while Lando checks you two in. You do notice that it’s taking quite a long time for Lando to check in and as you glance up from your phone towards the reception desk you see him talking with the worker and showing her something on his phone. Then with a sigh and a shake of his head he turns on his heel back towards you.
“Everything alright?” You ask.
He slips his phone back into his pocket and grabs his suitcase. “I booked us a two bedroom suite and they told me that all they have available is a one bedroom. Even though I showed them the booking on my phone, someone is already in it. So, I’ll just take the couch and you can have the bed.”
This place was fancy, and Lando had undoubtedly paid a pretty penny for the two nights that you were staying here. You would have thought they would have comped the room or something for their mistake. But by the displeased look on his face it didn’t seem they offered him anything but a sorry for the inconvenience.
Even with the hotel screwing up the room, the one you end up with is amazing and as you enter the room your jaw drops slightly at it. You set your bags down and explore the room further, taking in all the beautiful artwork on the walls and the natural light streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows. You enter a door to your left and it’s the bedroom, which is even better than the main room, mainly because of the huge balcony that overlooks the sea.
There’s a gentle breeze in the air as you lean against the railing, taking in the view and the hustle and bustle from the surrounding area.
“Beautiful isn’t it?” Lando’s voice makes you jump, you were so lost in your own little world you didn’t even hear him come out onto the balcony. You nod your head in agreement as he slots himself beside you, mimicking your actions of leaning on the railing. “And it’s not even the best part of our trip.”
“You know you didn’t have to get such a nice room, we are only in Naples for two days.” As much as you try not to feel guilty about him paying for all of this, you do.
“And what did I say a couple weeks ago?”
A groan emits from you as you remember his words to you in Monaco. “You said to let you spoil me.”
“Exactly. I just want you to enjoy yourself and stop worrying about how much everything costs. We are here to relax and have fun, which means figuring out what we want to do tonight.”
You ponder your endless options and all you really want to do is sit on this balcony and enjoy the view, but your stomach growling tells you maybe dinner would be a good idea first. “We are in Italy– how about getting some pizza and then just come back here and relax?” Lando agrees and while you’re freshening up he looks up good pizza places within walking distance.
You two are just about ready to leave when there's a knock on the door, followed by room service!
A confused look is shared between you two, but when Lando looks through the peephole there stands a worker with a room service cart. He opens the door and is greeted with a smile from the employee.
“From the hotel as an apology about the room.” The employee hands Lando an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne nestled in it. “Have a nice rest of your stay.”
Lando looks back at you with an amused look on his face as the guy quickly leaves, the wheels of the cart squeaking as he hurries down the hall. “Well, we have something to drink on the balcony later.” Lando states as he sets the bucket down on the coffee table.
“Champagne and pizza? No thanks.” You see there’s a card attached to the bottle and as you open the envelope and read the words written, your cheeks turn scarlet.
“What does it say?” Lando questions, moving to stand behind you so he can read it too. His eyes scan the letter and he soon finds himself in the same state as you. He clears his throat as he steps back, suddenly feeling too close to you at the moment.
to the happy couple,
we are so deeply sorry about the mix up with rooms and we hope you can accept our apologies. we’ve sent a bottle of the finest champagne that you can get in naples and have comped any room service you may order during your stay. as always if you need anything please don’t hesitate to call the front desk and once again we sincerely apologize for our mistake. we hope you enjoy your stay here and the city of naples.
The letter isn’t spoken about, actually what you two were addressed as isn’t spoken about, but you both agree that their actions were nice. The walk to the pizza place is quiet, the both of you occasionally pointing out things that you think are interesting or pretty, but both of your minds are preoccupied with being mistaken for a couple. Anyone else would have laughed it off, but clearly not the two of you.
By the time you’re back at the hotel and sat on the balcony with the pizza and champagne your conversation had returned to normal. You teasing Lando about not even drinking the glass he had poured for himself and him complaining about you insisting that you get a pizza that has peppers on it.
“You know what would make this evening even better?” The pizza is long gone and the two of you are sat admiring the painting in the sky left behind from the sun.
“Some pink moscato?” There’s a grin on his face as he says it. If there’s one thing he knows you love, it’s a glass of pink moscato on a balcony with a view.
You try to hide the smile on your face as you glance over at him, but he’s caught you. “You know me too well Norris.”
“Should’ve told that employee that we wanted a ten dollar bottle of wine instead of that champagne.” Lando jokes.
“Thought you didn’t like it? That it was too sweet?”
He shuffles slightly in his seat, fully knowing that you’d caught on to his facade. “I may have grown to love it.” He admits quietly.
You’d known for a while, but hearing him say it was much more satisfying. “Yeah. Kinda figured it out last year when you started drinking more of it than me.”
Nighttime draws near and once you start yawning, so does Lando, and after the fourth round of yawning Lando states that it’s time for bed. The subject the two of you hadn’t discussed any further than what was said in the lobby earlier. The guilt started to eat at you as you brushed your teeth, he’d invited you and is paying for everything and he doesn’t even get to sleep in a bed? What kind of friend were you?
Lando was making the couch up as you walked out of the bathroom and for this being a luxury hotel that couch looked stiff and seemed to be more for show than actual comfort. He already had a bad back and it looked like sleeping on that couch was going to have him trying to find a chiropractor tomorrow instead of sightseeing. “Lan. You take the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
He doesn’t even look back at you, still occupied with trying to make the couch somewhat comfortable. “No. I’ll be fine. You take the bed.”
“Lando.”
“Y/N.”
“Lando, look at me.” You knew he wasn’t going to budge with the whole couch thing, so you thought of the next best thing. The two of you sharing the bed. It was plenty big and truly it shouldn’t be that big of a deal if you two shared it. You were grown adults and bestfriends, no one should have to sleep on the couch.
His focus tears away from the couch and over to you, who’s already in bed and under the covers. “Look at how big this bed is.” Your body extends over to the other side trying to show him just how big the bed is. “Just sleep in the bed with me, there is plenty of room.”
Your offer takes him by surprise and he stills for a moment, he’d love nothing more than to climb into that bed right now, but a part of his brain is telling him not to. And he’s about ready to tell you no once again until he makes eye contact with you. Those damn eyes of yours could be used in interrogation rooms across the world, one look into them and he’s crumbling like a poorly built sandcastle. The gentle pat on the empty side of the bed is what flattens the sandcastle and he’s mumbling out an okay before sliding under the sheets next to you.
The two of you don’t know what to do for a moment, both still and flat on your backs under the sheets, like if you moved an inch the gremlin under the bed was going to get you. But eventually Lando turns on his side, mumbling out a goodnight as he pulls the comforter closer to him. You take his actions as a sign for you to roll over too and you figured that falling asleep wouldn’t be an issue after all the yawning earlier, but you were wrong. You tried counting sheep, tried laying on your back, tried anything you could think of to fall asleep and nothing worked. It wasn’t like there was a major time difference between here and London, it was literally only an hour, so unfortunately jet lag could not be to blame.
Lando hadn’t moved the whole time and you figured he fell asleep as soon as he turned over, but you were bored and going a little crazy because even though you were tired, you couldn’t fall asleep. “Lando.” You whispered, but got no response. “Lando. Are you awake?” You whisper a little louder this time, but still no response. So with a defeated sigh you roll back over and shut your eyes, praying that this time you can go to sleep. But within a matter of seconds you feel the bed shift and Lando’s voice echoing through the room.
“I’m awake.”
You roll back over— the two of you now facing each other. “Why didn’t you answer me a minute ago?”
“I was trying to go to sleep myself.”
“Oh sorry. I’ll go out to the other room and watch some TV or something.” You barely move an inch before Lando’s got his fingers wrapped around your forearm, gently pulling you back towards him.
“No, don't leave.”
You can feel your heartbeat quickening as you realize just how close the two of you are. The glow from the moon cascades through the balcony doors allowing you to make out the moles on his face and those pretty long eyelashes of his that make his already breathtaking eyes seem even more beautiful. Sometimes you think he has stars in his eyes from the way that they sparkle. And as the two of you lay here right now, you realize the only reason that the moonlight is flooding into the room is because she’s looking for her lost stars that have found a home in Lando’s eyes.
“You got any ideas on how to fall asleep? I’ve tried just about everything in the book.” For some reason you're whispering and you wonder if it’s from how close you are to Lando’s face or how suddenly nervous you are to be this close to Lando.
He’s silent for a moment, the logical and sane part of him screaming at him to not even suggest what he’s been thinking about ever since climbing under these sheets. The mere idea of it being the thing that had prevented him from being fast asleep by now. But he’s got you at literal fingertips length and he thinks there may not be another opportunity like this again. So– he acts with his heart and not his brain.
“Come here.” He’s moved onto his back with his arm outstretched towards you.
“Huh?” You know exactly what he’s insinuating, but you can’t actually believe that he is.
“You wanted an idea on how to fall asleep and this is my idea. I’ll get you to fall asleep in no time.
“You think us cuddling is gonna get me to fall asleep?” You definitely hadn’t wondered what it would be like to be wrapped up in Lando’s arms before. How it would feel to have his fingertips trance mindless patterns across your skin or have your head on his chest. He was your best friend, which meant those thoughts had never crossed your mind– right?
He shrugs, trying to hide the nervousness in his demeanor, the mere thought of you denying him right now was enough to have him on the next flight back to Monaco in the morning. He should have never put himself in this situation, but god as soon as he climbed into this bed all he wanted to do was have you wrapped up in his arms.
It had consumed his brain, and then consumed it even more because why was he having this desire to have such a tender moment with his best friend? Though his brain stops spiraling when he feels the bed shift and you’re suddenly tucking yourself into his side, arm slung over his torso, and your head laying on his chest. The same chest that his heart is about ready to beat out of and he prays you can’t hear how hard it’s working.
But as you both get settled and Lando’s heartbeat finally mellows out he realizes just how right this feels, like the two of you were matching puzzle pieces. Any other girl he had cuddled with before now seemed to feel wrong because as far as he was concerned, nothing felt better than this. It felt natural and easy and he found himself drawing absent minded patterns on your side where your shirt had bunched up.
He’d spend the rest of his life here in this moment with you if he could. And when he hears your slight snores something short circuits in his brain and he’s pressing a kiss to the top of your head mumbling out goodnight before he’s out like a light too. The moonlight blanketing over the two of you, who right now look more like lovers than best friends.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
The next morning you’re already up and ready for the day by the time Lando wakes up and he tries to hide the disappointment of not waking up next to you, already missing the feeling of having you so close. A feeling though nice, he knew it was one that he probably shouldn’t be feeling. He asks you if you slept well while he’s getting ready and you tell him yes, not going into very much detail, for your own sake and his.
The day is full of sightseeing and lots of walking, which is something that Lando likes to complain about. You visit Pompeii and a handful of other places for you and Lando to nerd out about and truly be tourists. You eat amazing food that Lando says his trainer will hate him for, but he justifies it with the excuse of being on vacation. Hundreds of pictures were taken, your phones already begging for more storage and it was only the first day of the trip. Lando even went as far as bringing an actual camera, stating that lando.jpg would be revived soon.
But in between the sightseeing, eating, and everything else– both of your brains immediately go back to the sleeping arrangements from last night. You both can’t stop thinking about it, but no one brings it up, almost like it’s something you should be ashamed of. No one wants to admit how right it felt to be in eachothers arms last night or how both of you probably had the best sleep of your lives.
You didn’t want to admit that when you woke up this morning to Lando spooning you, your stomach was doing flips over the realization that you had moved in the middle of the night and he had found his way back to you. So many thoughts and emotions running through your brains, yet you both think it’s better to just act like it's not a big deal.
Night falls once again and Lando crawls into bed next to you. You’re both absolutely spent after the eventful day you’ve had and Lando worries that you won’t need him to fall asleep, but his worries soon dissipate because you’re tucking yourself into his side as soon as he’s gotten himself comfortable. You’re like a moth to a flame– the consequences of these actions never even enter your mind as slowly feel yourself drifting off to sleep.
And when morning comes you don’t run away when you feel Lando’s arms around you, even with the butterflies making an appearance again. You enjoy your moment alone, the sun shining in through the windows, the sound of the city already alive, and the way Lando looks as he sleeps. It's truly a beautiful morning.
He wakes up not too long after you and there’s a funny feeling in his chest when he realizes that he’s gotten to wake up with you still in his arms. That you were the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. It all just feels so natural and right, that once again no words are spoken about this very non-platonic thing that is happening between you two.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
“We’ve got a little bit a drive ahead of us today.” Lando states as he comes out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. Water droplets are scattered across his tan skin, his damp curls falling slightly onto his forehead. You’re trying not to stare, but good lord how could anyone not.
“It’s only like an hour.” You're still sitting in bed, propped up against the headboard as you now watch him rummage through his suitcase.
He holds up a shirt and shorts, silently asking for your opinion. You give him a nod of approval and he heads back to the bathroom to get dressed, but he leaves the door slightly cracked so he can still talk to you. “Yeah it was an hour. I’ve canceled the driver and made some new plans for today.”
“New plans?” You raise your voice slightly so he can hear you.
“It’s a surprise.” He peeks his head around the slightly open door— a mischievous smile painted across his face, before disappearing behind it once more. “So you had better start getting ready.” He commands as the door fully opens, revealing a fully dressed Lando.
A few short moments later a domestic scene plays out in the bathroom mirror. The double sinks both occupied, various hair products, makeup, and other random items are scattered across the counter. You’re watching Lando through the mirror as he tries to wrangle the mop of curls on his head, but everytime you look away he’s watching you brush your teeth or do your skincare. And the occasional times your eyes do meet in the mirror you’re both like little kids, eyes immediately darting away with smiles on your faces and little giggles echoing through the bathroom.
“You gonna tell me what the surprise is?” Patience had never been your strong suit and thus knowing about surprises was like a form of torture to you.
“If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise now would it?” He’s still screwing with his hair, but he’s looking at you through the mirror.
“Oh come on, just tell me. Pretty pretty please?” You’ve come up behind him, your chin resting on his shoulder as you flash your best puppy dog eyes at him through the mirror. And for a split second Lando almost cracks– those puppy dog eyes working on him better than you would have ever thought.
“The faster we pack everything up, the faster you get the surprise.” He’s shocked his words come out smoothly, his brain still foggy from your pretty eyes and close contact.
Ten minutes later you’re walking out of the elevator and into the hotel lobby, where Lando tells you to wait while he goes outside for a moment. You assume the surprise is outside and so you try to peek and see what’s out there, but he’s coming back in before you can get a good look.
“Alright let’s go.”
You don’t see anything that you would consider surprise worthy as you walk out the doors, but then Lando leads you towards the cars parked outside the hotel and stops in front of a vintage yellow Ferrari. Your eyes dart back and forth between Lando and the car, unsure if he was just stopping to admire it or if you were going to be riding in it. He answers your unasked question by opening the passenger side door, motioning for you to get in.
“Is this the surprise? Where did you even get this car from?” Your eyes widening over the car itself and the fact that he’d gone through the trouble of even finding the car.
“It’s part of the surprise-” He’s got a smirk on his face as he speaks “and I have my connections.” He motions once again for you to get into the car and this time you don’t oblige. The leather seat soft under your legs as you sit down, the car was surely close to 60 years old, yet still looked brand new.
Lando puts the luggage in the trunk while you're examining all of the car’s little quirks and details while you wait.
“Ok, you ready?” Lando asks as he gets in the driver's seat.
“Gonna tell me the other part of the surprise?”
He sighs, he wanted you to figure it out on your own, but you were so persistent sometimes. “You know how you’ve always talked about wanting to drive along the coast of Italy?” You nod, a smile already forming on your face as you realize what he’s planned for you. “Well, instead of just taking the straight shot over, we’re gonna take the long way all along the Amalfi coast. And I figured it was only fitting that we do it in a Ferrari, considering we are in Italy after all.”
You can’t wipe the smile off your face as you stare at Lando from the passenger seat. Sometimes you wondered if he was even listening to you when you spoke, but then he pulls stuff like this and you know that he’s always listening– remembering things that you care about or like. “God, I don’t deserve you.”
Thankfully the car is still parked because you’re pulling Lando into a bone crushing hug, your cheek smushed up against the side of his head, a giggle emitting from him as he tries to hug you back.
“When you told me your work approved the time off, I knew for sure that this was one thing that I wanted to make happen. That same night I was online trying to find a car to rent for the day, but then I saw this one for sale…” His words trail off and your jaw drops at the realization, but in all reality you know it’s a very Lando thing to do.
“And now we’re sitting in your newest baby?”
He’s got a sheepish look on his face as he speaks. “As soon as I saw it I knew it was the perfect car for this. Plus it’s the ultimate vacation souvenir!”
“You’re crazy.” He actually couldn’t be more perfect.
“Yeah, but you love me.” He teases as he starts the engine.
“Unfortunately.”
─── ༺❀༻ ───
The long winding road along the coast provided scenery that was beyond your wildest dreams. It was serene and picturesque– like something straight out of a movie. The bright blue water on one side of the road and the white stone mountains on the other. The various tunnels that somehow had even more breathtaking views on the other side of them. The handful of towns that you had to drive through, each of them more charming than the last, you only wished you had enough time to stay a week in all of them.
As simple as this was, you would have been more than content with this trip if you went home tomorrow, not that you wanted to, it was just that sometimes the simple things in life meant more than anything lavish to you. You weren’t hard to please, all you needed was Lando singing along to some song on the radio, beautiful scenery, and the wind blowing in your hair for you to be the happiest girl in the world right now.
The whole trip your attention was divided between the coastal beauty and the beauty in the driver's seat. You couldn’t help but glance over ever so often at Lando, especially when you’d hear him start to sing along to a song. He just looked so ethereal sitting next to you, one hand on the steering wheel– the other resting between you two.
There was a moment where you felt the sudden urge to reach out and intertwine your fingers with his, a moment of insanity you’d thought. It surely had nothing to do with how sunkissed he looked from only being in the sun one day, or how the wind had made his curls the perfect amount of messy, or how you’d catch him looking over at you with a smile on his face.
If only you knew that Lando had been fighting the urge to reach out and grab your hand too. He’d never seen you so ecstatic over something as simple as going for a drive, but he’d drive this car till he ran out of road or gas, whichever came first, just to see that smile of yours. The way your eyes sparkled in the sunlight and how you giggled at his singing was just an added bonus, but all of them made his chest feel funny. He’d been around the world more times than he could count, seen so many breathtaking places, but right now none of those places compared to the beauty that was sitting next to him in this car.
You’re in your own little world so much that you don’t even realize you’ve made it to your destination until Lando’s putting the car in park in front of a very luxurious looking villa. “We’ve arrived.” Lando states in a sing-song voice.
“Is this when you tell me Max and everyone else are actually coming too?” You question, flabbergasted over the size of the house. And you can tell what he’s thinking just by his facial expression. “Lando this place is huge just for the two of us.”
He rolls his eyes before getting out of the car to get luggage. “It’s actually a lot smaller than you think.”
When you step foot into the two story villa it immediately has that Mediterranean coast charm with intricate tile floors, artwork that adorns the walls, and windows with the most gorgeous views– needles to say you’re in love.
Then you take in just how big the place is with it’s one too many bedrooms and bathrooms and various other rooms that you probably won’t even use. Lando’s words echo in your head as you explore the house some more, and there’s nothing small about this place at all. “You’re such a liar Lan.” Your words are playful as you walk through one of the many french doors in the house that leads out to the back.
“Lie? I would nev-”
“Oh my god!” He’s cut off by you realizing that the backyard of this villa is nothing shy of paradise. A massive pergola covered part of the back of the house with vibrant bougainvillea lining the top and hanging down the sides. Various other flowers and plants are scattered strategically around the area. Under the pergola there's an outdoor kitchen and a large glass dining table, clearly meant to host a group of people, not two. Further out there’s a pool with sunbeds lined down one side of it– a poolside bar on the other.
All of these things are great, but the real show stopper is the view that this place has. From the front of the house you can’t really tell just how close you are to the water, but from out back it’s a completely different view. There’s a separate sitting area slightly further out from the pool. It’s got a little pergola of its own with couches and chairs and one of those fancy rock fire pits and that is where you get the best view.
It’s like something out of a nature documentary– it’s so perfect that it almost seems fake. The sea is so close that you can hear the waves crashing against the rocks and it’s just endless bright blue water for days. You thought the view in Naples was pretty, but this was breathtaking.
“Knew you’d love this place.” Lando states as he comes up beside you, acting like he hadn’t been lingering behind you the whole time, admiring the view (you) from afar.
It was true though, Lando knew as soon as he saw this place online that it was the one. It didn’t matter that he paid an astronomical amount for it or that the house was way too big for just the two of you. All it took was for him to see the view to know you’d be the happiest girl in the world here.
He could picture you two sitting out here in the evening, watching the sun set over the coast, undoubtedly with a bottle of pink moscato. You’d end up drinking one too many glasses and your cheeks would get red and you’d get the giggles.
As Lando stood here– eyes never leaving the beautiful scene in front of him. He can’t help but feel that funny feeling in his chest over how radiant and happy you look. And he thinks that if this house was for sale he’d buy it in a heartbeat, if that meant he got to see you like this all the time.
A smile finds its way onto your face as you glance over at the guy you call your best friend. “You weren’t lying when you said you were gonna spoil me, huh?” You gently nudge him with your elbow, your smile growing even bigger at his response.
“Only the best for my favorite person.” His smile is equally as big as you lean your head on his shoulder and in that moment he thinks that maybe the reserve driver could just finish out the season and he could just stay here with you.
That night as you both head to your rooms there’s an obvious tension in the air. You’re both slowly making your ascent up the stairs and lingering in the hall, trying to milk every last second until you inevitably have to go into your separate rooms.
After so long though, you’re the first to cave as your hand reaches for the doorknob. Your door creaks open and you’re mumbling out goodnight lan, i’ll see you in the morning before entering the room. Although you don’t close the door behind you and Lando takes that as an invitation to linger in your doorway. He doesn’t need to speak for you to know he’s there, you can feel his presence, and subconsciously you’ve left that door open for him.
“Goodnight Y/N.” You’ve got your back turned to him as you're digging through your suitcase for pajamas, but you can hear the slight grin he has on his face as he speaks.
The sight of Lando as you turn around has butterflies erupting in your stomach and it makes you feel weird to be feeling those things about your best friend. He’s leaned up against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest and that grin that you’d sensed him having was still on his face as he looked at you. Your eyes scanned over him, focusing on little details like his hair still being wind tousled and how the tops of his cheeks were slightly burnt from the car ride today.
And for someone who claimed to not need a ton of sleep– he looked so sleepy as the two of you locked eyes. Those big blue eyes slowly blinking and drooping ever so slightly as his head now too rested against the door frame. He still donned the hoodie that you teased him about putting on earlier after his claims of it being chilly once the sun set, only adding to the sleepy look he had going on right now.
Someone had never looked so cozy and you wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in his arms, but that wasn’t going to happen tonight. You will tell him goodnight again and he’ll close the door behind him before shuffling over to his room. Your mind will be preoccupied with him as you get ready for bed, the image of him in your doorway forever burned into your mind as you brush your teeth. As you crawl into bed you won’t think about how cold the sheets feel or how you want to be cuddled up to your best friend. You won’t think about how it’s been two hours that you’ve laid here and sleep has yet to greet you. And you certainly won’t think about how you’d be fast asleep right now if Lando was beside you.
But unfortunately you do think about all those things and you’ve exhausted every resource to try and distract you from it. It was different at the hotel when there was only one bed, but now with multiple bedrooms to choose from there was no reason for the two of you to sleep in the same bed. Lines were already blurring between you two without either of you knowing it and if you chose to go seek solace with Lando then those lines would blur even more.
But you didn’t know that your actions would eventually have consequences and seconds later you’re throwing the covers off of you with only one destination in mind– Lando’s room. The journey though, is short lived because as soon as you open your door you’re met with a wide eyed Lando, his fist frozen in the air like he was getting ready to knock on your door.
The frozen fist moves to rubbing the back of his neck as he speaks to you. “Sorry, was coming to see if you were still awake.”
“I was coming to see if you were up too.” He’s still got that hoodie on from earlier, but you noticed he’d changed out his shorts for boxers. His hair was even more messy and you’d wondered if he had even fallen asleep yet. “Couldn’t sleep either?”
Lando shrugs. “Not really– kept tossing and turning.” He acts like the reason he can’t go to sleep isn’t right in front of him as he rests his head on the familiar door frame.
“Yeah I can tell by your hair.” You tease. He just gives you a half assed smile and when he doesn’t tease you back that’s when you realize just how tired he is. “You want to watch some TV or something? ”
He shakes his head no. The only thing he wants to do is go to sleep, but how can he when you’re not next to him? It was embarrassing to admit that only after two nights of sharing the same bed that he couldn’t sleep on his own, but here he was. His big bed felt too empty and he realized that even if he slept in a twin sized bed it would still feel empty without you next to him.
Not to mention he’d found comfort in you being his personal heater at night. It was no secret that Lando ran cold, often seen sporting a jacket during race weekends while his teammate was in shorts. So with his personal heater gone, he’d resorted to wearing a hoodie to bed, which didn’t come close to holding a candle to you.
When he finally worked up the courage to get up and go to your room he was pleasantly surprised to find you up too and facing the same problem as him. A little sliver of him hoping that it was the exact same problem and that you couldn’t sleep without him.
For a split second you caught his eyes looking past you and towards your bed. He couldn’t have made it any more obvious, but if was actually hinting at what you thought he was hinting at, then you weren’t going to pass up on the opportunity. It wasn’t a coincidence that he had come to your door and that you both had trouble sleeping in separate beds. So, you act on impulse and tell him come on just sleep in here tonight and like a little kid who’s gotten scared of the thunder at night he’s crawling into your bed in an instant.
It’s like you two are magnets– immediately finding your way to each other under the sheets and it doesn’t take long for the both of you to finally fall asleep. And some time in the middle of the night Lando had shed his hoodie, no longer needing it with you pressed against him. When you two wake in the morning with the sun streaming through the windows and sleepy smiles plastered on your faces, there’s an unspoken agreement that even with the plethora of beds in this house, you two would be sleeping in the same one every night.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
Lando and you were best friends, nothing more. Nevermind the sharing a bed every night or the longing glances or the sometimes suggestive thoughts you had about him. So maybe your friendship wasn’t practical or normal, but there was nothing romantic going on between you two. It was something you had drilled into your head for some time now. You’d try to ignore the way your heart would speed up when you’d catch him looking at you or the way he always has to have physical contact with you. And any other crazy thoughts that you’d speculated about had always been pushed aside rather quickly. He was your best friend after all and once again nothing more.
Though over the course of the week you’d found yourself having a hard time in pushing aside those non platonic thoughts about Lando. There were instances you two had found yourselves in that you just couldn’t ignore.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
“What’s the plan for today?” You ask as the two of you are sitting outside the cutest little restaurant, enjoying brunch.
Lando finishes the last little bit of his eggs before answering you. “Well nothing that involves you getting behind a motor vehicle with the way you’ve been downing those bellinis.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics. Yes, you’d had your fair share of bellinis, but they were so damn good and there really wasn’t that much alcohol in them for it to be an issue. “How about we just see where the day takes us?”
“Well I already had the idea of renting jet skis in my head, but I guess we’ll do what you suggested.” You joke.
Now Lando’s the one to roll his eyes at you as he flags down the waiter for the check. He doesn’t even look at it when it’s brought over, he just hands his card over like it’s nothing. It’s something that you still aren’t used to him doing even after knowing him for so long and you’re sure he’s gotten ripped off more times than he could imagine.
He quickly signs for it once the waiter comes back and with his card back in his wallet you’re free to go. Except when you stand up all those bellinis hit you and you’re a little unsteady on your feet, something that Lando clocks immediately. You aren’t drunk, just buzzed, but Lando isn’t going to let you live this down. “You wanted to rent jet skis huh?” He teases as he wraps an arm around your waist to steady you.
“Think we still could to be honest.” You’re confident in your ability to walk on your own, but Lando insists on keeping his hold on you.
“Well I don’t want to waste a day at the hospital, so let’s just look around at the shops.”
You’d passed them on your way to brunch and Lando had promised you’d come back to them. They were cute little stores, each one specializing in certain things. You took your time in each one, feeling the silky material of some of the dresses, admiring the leather detailing on the handbags, and gawking at the dazzling jewelry in the displays. Everything was quite luxurious and your eyes couldn’t help but linger on a certain bag and bracelet, but the price tags were all you had to see to know they weren’t coming home with you.
Lando had been watching you the whole time, fully prepared to be your bag boy and was ready to pull out his wallet whenever he’d see you pick something up. But much to his disappointment, all you did was look and after going through all the stores you left empty handed. “You didn’t see anything you wanted?” Lando asks as you continue down the street.
You simply shrug your shoulders at him. “Nothing that I couldn’t live without.” He doesn’t press the matter anymore, fully knowing that he’d be coming back sometime this week to get you that bag and bracelet that you kept circling back to.
The streets are charming and bright. It’s a place that you can’t help but feel alive in, especially as the summer sun beats down on you, but the light breeze coming in off the sea makes it bearable. Your buzz was long gone, but Lando still insisted that you link your arm with his as you stroll down the streets– just in case. You don’t oblige to his request, enjoying the feeling of holding onto his solid bicep as the sound of him slightly humming the song that was playing at brunch fills your ears.
A sense of peacefulness washes over you and it’s at this moment that you don’t feel like you’re on the arm of the famous Formula 1 driver Lando Norris. He doesn’t have a million cameras on him or people flocking to him for an autograph. It’s just you and your best friend Lando– the boy who was gagging when you teased the idea of ordering fish at dinner last night or who you laid in bed with this morning, watching dumb Tiktoks until you were both in tears laughing. It was nice for once, to just have Lando.
You’re just about ready to circle back to the villa when you hear a woman shouting in Italian from down the street. You’re not anywhere near fluent, but you recognize some basic words and what you’ve heard has you pulling Lando towards the voice.
Fior! Bei Fiori!
At the end of the street there stood the lady, who had a cart of the most vibrant fresh flowers. When she spotted the two of you approaching, a smile painted itself across her face. “I think your pretty girl deserves some flowers, don’t you?”
The corners of your mouth turn upwards and a smile is painted across your face. You can feel your cheeks getting warm at her statement, at the implication that you were Lando’s, but it’s his response that makes them comparable to the roses found on the cart.
Lando feels his chest get tight over the lady assuming the two of you were together. It’s nothing new, for people to assume that he’s with a girl just because he’s seen with one. Though for some reason when someone says it about you, it gets a reaction out of him. He’s grinning as he looks at you and then back to the sweet old lady. “You’re right, my pretty girl does deserve some flowers.”
The butterflies that erupted in your stomach at his words were embarrassing and not the appropriate reaction to be having over your best friend, but his comment wasn’t very platonic either. You’re blushing and grinning, probably very easily comparable to a school girl at the moment. He’s got a smug look on his face as he hands you of course the biggest bouquet the lady had. It’s truly a beautiful bouquet and it smells divine, it had anything you could have gotten at the shops beaten by a mile.
As you head back towards the villa you can’t wipe the smile off your face and you can’t stop thinking about my pretty girl. The words shamelessly repeating over and over again in your head. “So you think I’m pretty huh?” You tease.
Now Lando’s the one to blush and he hopes you just think it’s just from the heat and sun as you look at him. “Of course I do. I’d have to be blind to not think so.” He’s sincere with his words, he truly thinks you’re one of the most breathtaking women he’s ever met– intellectually and physically.
You lean your head on his arm, the same one you’ve still wrapped yourself around. “You sure know how to swoon 'em.”
“You’re my best friend. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
And for the first time, for both of you, it feels weird and almost stings to hear the word best friend said out loud. Because deep down you know you’re way more than that.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
Although you weren’t that much of a party girl you didn’t mind going out every once in a while. So when Lando suggested going out to one of the bars tonight it didn’t seem like a bad idea. You’d done your fair share of relaxing and to you that meant a night out deserved to be had.
With a final spritz of your perfume you’re ready to go and as you looked in the mirror one last time you couldn’t help but think damn, I look good. You found Lando waiting for you in the foyer, his head lifting up from his phone at the sound of your heels clicking down the stairs. “Might want to close your mouth before you attract flies Lan.” He hadn’t even realized he was in that much of a trance until you said something, he could feel his cheeks getting warm at getting caught.
You hook your arm with his as he leads you out the front door. “Sorry, you just look unreal tonight.”
“Well you don’t look too bad yourself.” He’d chosen his tried and true white button up, leaving the first few buttons undone, which revealed even more of his gorgeous tanned skin. How someone could make something as simple as a white button up shirt look so good was beyond you, but it was clearly something he was skilled at.
The bar you end up at is relatively small and you realize it must be the most popular one with how packed it is. It’s on the coast and there’s a gorgeous outdoor area that you are immediately drawn to, mainly because there’s slightly less people out here. It’s still a good time though and the people are somehow even more rowdy out here and you wonder if it’s the fresh air.
You’ve danced, drank, laughed, talked, everything you could think of on a night out. It's been nice, especially doing it all with Lando, who somehow through the course of the night has undone more buttons on his shirt and you think he might as well just undo them all. It’s clearly getting late from how the crowd is slowly starting to thin out, but you two are still having a ball, and you figure you’ll stay till they kick you out.
Lando’s gone inside to get you both another drink, which he easily could have gotten from the bartender out here, but he claimed that the guy didn’t know what he was doing. While you wait you venture off to a far corner of the patio that’s somewhat empty. There’s a couple people sitting in chairs sharing a cigarette, but other than that you’re alone. Even in the dark the view is amazing and as you lean on the railing a nice breeze comes in off the water. It’s relaxing and nice, especially when you’re that sticky kind of sweaty and a little more drunk than you realize.
“Absolutely beautiful.” You jump at the unfamiliar, yet familiar voice. It had been a minute since you’d heard another British accent besides Lando’s. When you turn around to put a face to the voice you aren’t expecting to see such a gorgeous man standing there. He’s really the whole package– stunning blue eyes, pretty smile, fluffy light brown hair, nice facial hair.
“Uh- yeah it is.” You assumed he was talking about the view.
“Can I join you?”
He’s cute and you wouldn’t mind some company, so you tell him yes.
“Where’d your boyfriend run off to?” He asks as he nurses his Corona.
“He’s not my boyfriend, but I’m not wrong in assuming you know who he is, right?” This guy is in his twenties and British, if he didn’t know who Lando was then he had to be living under a rock.
He takes a swig of his beer before responding. “I know who he is.”
You scoff, there was a big possibility that he was using you to get to meet Lando, it was something you’d dealt with many times before. Guys showing interest in you only in hopes of becoming Lando’s friend or even worse girls who would befriend you only to try and get with Lando. You weren’t some step on the ladder that led to Lando, you were your own person with feelings and a life, who deserved to have people like you for you, not who you knew.
Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the fact that you’re done being led on by people, but either way you confront the guy about it. “Are you using me to get to him?”
You hear him laugh a little and it lights a fire in you, but his words extinguish it before it gets out of control. “I was brave enough to come over here and willingly flirt with you before I even knew if he was your boyfriend or not. If I was trying to use you to get to him, I don’t think that would be a good plan. Which now that I know you’re not his girlfriend, kinda makes me think he’s an idiot. How could he have a girl like you in his life and not be madly in love with you?”
Your brain is fuzzy as you’re trying to process what he’s said. “Sorry wait- you were flirting with me?”
He’s got a cheeky grin on his face and he lets out a chuckle at your cluelessness. “When I said ‘absolutely beautiful’ I wasn’t talking about the view.”
“Oh.” You’d thought it was kind of weird for him to just randomly say that about the view, but for it to be aimed towards you was the last thing you had thought of. “Well, flirt all you want then.”
Not only did this place have one bartender that was incompetent, it seemed like all of them were. Lando had waited for what seemed like ages for a beer and a vodka cranberry. It wasn’t even that busy at the bar for it to be taking so long and at one point he contemplated just going behind the bar and doing it himself. By the time he finally got them he was surprised you hadn’t come looking for him, but when he made his way out onto the patio he saw exactly why you hadn’t.
Over in the corner Lando sees you doubled over laughing with some guy as he watches from afar. His grip on the glasses gets tighter as he sees you place your hand on the guy's arm. The tightness in his chest increases the longer he stands here and watches. It bothers him more than he cares to admit– to see you with some random guy. To hear that laugh of yours and him not being the source of it is driving him crazy. But what really sends him over the edge is when the guy tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear and without a second thought he’s storming over there.
Lando tries to play it cool as he approaches and he’s glad he’s got these drinks to use as an excuse. Your mid conversation when Lando interrupts, but he doesn’t care one bit. “Here’s your drink.” He says as he pushes the slightly watered down glass towards you.
“Oh thanks Lan.” You flash him a smile, but his face is emotionless and the fun light hearted atmosphere has suddenly turned awkward. For some reason you feel like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. “Um, Lando this is-” You remember at that moment that you hadn’t even asked the guy his name, which to you makes this even more awkward.
“Harry.”
“Right. Lando, this is Harry.” You motion between the two men. “Harry, this is Lando.”
Harry extends a hand out to Lando and they very awkwardly shake hands. “Nice to meet you mate.”
Lando only nods his head at him before turning his focus back to you. “I think we should get going, they are gonna close soon.”
You think he’s joking, considering he’d waited all that time to get these drinks, and now he suddenly wants to leave. “I just got my drink, can we at least stay until I finish it?” It also feels rude to just abruptly leave in the middle of the conversation that you were enjoying with Harry. But Lando doesn’t know how to hide his emotions very well and by the look on his face you know he’s being serious.
“Well you can stay, but I’m leaving.” He knows he shouldn’t leave you alone with some guy you just met, but god he doesn’t think he can stand here and watch you flirt with him anymore than he already has. So, without hearing your response he starts making his way towards the exit.
A regretful look washes across your face as you look at Harry. “That was so rude of him, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s up with him, he never acts like that.” You take a big swig of your drink, fully knowing dealing with Lando is gonna be a pain. “It was really nice talking to you, but I better go hunt him down.”
He shrugs, clearly not as upset over this whole situation as Lando or you are. “No biggie, I’m sure we’ll see each other around. It’s a small place.” You bid him goodbye, but you don’t get very far before he’s hollering. “Can I at least get your Instagram?” Which has you coming back and quickly exchanging usernames before you're off again to find Lando.
You run into him in the bar and it looks like he was coming back out towards the patio. A look of relief washes over him when he sees you and he’s leading you away from the loud music and out the front exit before either of you can say anything. Only once the bass of the music is a faint sound in the distance does Lando speak up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone with that guy. I was coming back in when you found me.”
“I appreciate you looking out for me, but you were kinda rude to him for no reason.”
Guess you were diving in head first with this.
Lando stops walking and turns to face you, a confused look on his face. “I wasn’t being rude.”
“Yes you were. We were having a conversation and you just butted in and demanded we leave. Not to mention you wouldn’t even speak to him. He was nice, you would have liked him if you gave him the time of day.”
“You barely know the guy, you talked to him for what ten-fifteen minutes? I just didn’t have a good feeling about him.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his dumb excuse. He shook the guy's hand and didn’t get a good feeling about him? Bullshit. “Well if you didn’t have a good feeling about him then why’d you leave me with him?” He’d started to walk again, but stopped dead in his tracks at your words, spinning on his heel to face you once again.
“I already told you I regretted leaving you. I just had to get out of there for a second.”
“Why?” You were being adamant, your arms crossed across your chest as you waited for his answer.
He knew exactly why, but he couldn’t tell you that, he hadn’t even fully accepted it himself. “I don’t know Y/N.”
You’re getting frustrated with him and these damn heels that you chose to wear are not making your mood any better. “There’s a reason for everything, Lando. How would you like it if I acted like you did tonight with a girl you were talking to? You’d be livid.”
He completely ignores your accusation and turns the conversation in another direction. It had been itching at him to know if you were just being nice or if you were actually interested in the guy, so he plucked up the courage to ask. “So you were flirting with him?”
The look on your face is one of pure confusion, but your tone is nothing but shitty. “I’m not sure how you jumped to that conclusion from what I said or why it’s really any of your concern, but yeah it was just some harmless flirting. I’m sorry for having a little fun!” You were thankful that it was late enough for the street to be relatively empty, the last thing that needed to happen was pictures or a video getting out of you two arguing. You were sure there were already rumors about you two being on vacation together, you could only imagine how this would be misconstrued.
Hearing that his best friend was potentially interested in someone else had his head spinning and he could no longer blame his reactions on the alcohol. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore, ignore the way his heart raced when he looked at you. Or how he loved hearing that old lady call you his girl the other day.
It had been building up– festering almost this whole week and maybe subconsciously he wanted to go on this trip with you to see if there was some truth to what everyone had teased him about. He just didn’t think it would actually be true. Or that at two in the morning on a dimly lit street in Italy, during an argument, he would finally accept that he was in love with you.
But even with him realizing he’s in love with you, that doesn’t stop him from being an absolute idiot. “He was probably just using you to get to me.” Lando immediately regrets what he said as soon as it comes out of his mouth. He knows that's a sore subject for you and the look of hurt on your face makes his stomach churn.
“Now you’re just being mean.” You’re sure it’s a mixture of things that are contributing to the salty tears welling up in your eyes at the moment, but it’s Lando’s comment that actually makes them fall. You’re storming off before he can say anything, wishing you would have just stayed at the bar with Harry.
Lando knows he’s an idiot, but he also knows he’s the one who lit the match, which means he’s gotta be the one to put it out. “Y/N come on. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have said that.” He catches up with you rather quickly, your heels slowing you down.
“Just leave me be Lando.”
“Y/N. Stop walking for just a minute.” He’s grabbing at your arm, trying to halt your movement.
You stop and face him and for what it’s worth he does look sorry, but that doesn’t change how you feel. “What? You want to poke fun at me some more?”
“No I-”
“You know I was just having a little harmless fun with that guy, like you said I talked to him for what? Fifteen minutes? Nothing was going to come out of it. But is it really that far-fetched of an idea for a guy to actually be interested in me just for me? Am I that undesirable and unlovable for it to seem like a reality? Or was he like everyone else who’s used me and threw me away as soon as they got their five minutes of the almighty Lando Norris experience?”
The tears that slide down your cheeks are a mixture of anger and embarrassment and maybe you were being a little dramatic. Perhaps the multiple drinks you’d consumed weren’t helping either, but when the person you care about the most says something like that, something you’d confided in him about, it hurts.
Lando feels his heart break to hear you talk about yourself like that. All he wants to do is to scream out that you’re not undesirable or unlovable. He’s wanted you and loved you for some time now, the moment it started he’s not sure, but he knows it didn’t happen overnight. It’s always been there– he was just too blind to see it.
He’s not entirely sure on how to make this right, he knows he was an ass, but he also knows he can’t take back what’s been said. The worst part is that he knows exactly how you feel and somehow he still thought that was a good thing to throw in your face– all because he was jealous. He could deal with people trying to use him, he’d developed a sixth sense for them and never let it get too far, but you were too kind. Your big heart and trusting of others had gotten you burned one too many times and it hurt Lando even more to know that all that had happened because of him.
“I should have never said that to you. I know first hand how it feels to have people use me and the only reason you’ve had to deal with that is because of me. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Your sniffles fill the night air as you try to calm yourself down. While people used you to get to Lando, at least they didn’t want to be your friend to leech off your fame. Use you for your money and generosity, expecting paddock passes and some lavish lifestyle. People saw Lando as an object rather than a person more times than not. While your feelings were valid and Lando was still an ass for saying that, you realized to be in his shoes was worse. So, you wipe away your tears and accept his apology indirectly. “Think we’ve only got each other at this point.”
His voice is soft as he approaches you, his hand reaching up to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face. “Don’t think I need anyone else but you.”
The tender moment has you turning to putty in his hands– the argument pushed to the back of your mind. His hand moves to cup your face and his tumb brushes gently across your cheek. You feel like time has frozen in this moment and for a split second you swear he looks at your lips, like he’s going to kiss you. The fact that this is your best friend is no concern to you at the moment. Then the moment between you two is ruined just as fast as it began, the sound of a very loud and drunk group of people leaving the bar up the street brings you both back to reality.
You back away from each other slowly, like you weren’t sure exactly what had just almost happened. You’d already resorted to blaming it on both of your emotions still running wild and the alcohol still coursing through your veins. The group of people are getting closer, their obnoxious singing getting louder as each second passes. They might not even know who Lando is, but you aren’t in the mood to wait around and find out, the last thing you want to deal with right now is drunk fans. “We’ve had too much to drink, my head and feet hurt. Let’s go home.” You grumble as you begin the trek home once again, your feet aching more and more with each step.
Lando stops for a moment and kicks off his shoes, he couldn’t let you walk in pain the whole way home. Especially after the pain he had caused moments ago. “Here put these on, your feet are killing you.” He hands you the white sneakers before squatting down in front of you to help you get your heels off.
Your feet already thank you as you slip on the oversized shoes that clomp on the stone street. And like a magnet you find yourself wrapping your arm around his as you walk down the street. You’re sure you two are a sight–you in shoes that are way too big and Lando only in socks as he holds your heels for you.
“You know you’re still an ass.” You tell him as you lean your head on his shoulder.
“I know.”
“You know you aren’t unloveable.” He hopes you know he’s being sincere, your words still replaying in his mind as you walk.
“I know.”
By the time you make it back to the villa you’re both exhausted. The alcohol, the argument, that moment between you two, the walk home– you were sure tomorrow morning would be a rough one. There aren’t many words spoken as you get ready for bed and as you slide under the covers next to Lando you can’t shake something from your mind from tonight, and it wasn’t the argument.
It was the fact that during the whole time you were chatting with Harry, you couldn’t help but compare him to Lando. There wasn’t the same sparkle in his eye like Lando, his smile wasn’t the same, his laugh. It seemed like everything that you noticed about this guy came second best to Lando. Sure you were having fun and he was nice, but not once had the thought of Lando slipped your mind. And even right now, with Lando next to you, you’re still somehow thinking about him.
It didn’t take long for Lando to fall asleep and you were on the verge of it when your phone went off on the nightstand. Usually, you would just ignore it, but something in you told you to see what it was.
harryinsta is now following you
You then see that he had sent you a DM and you’re expecting it to be about meeting up some time, which you were going to politely decline, but it’s quite the opposite.
harryintsa: i must have been mistaken earlier. lando's not an idiot.
yourinsta: huh?
harryinsta: he’s in love with you lol
Your heart nearly beats out of your chest as you read the message over and over again. Lando wasn’t in love with you, was he? Sure you’d heard it from just about everyone in your life that you two were in love with each other, but you always thought it was silly. You guys were just best friends is what you would always say, but to hear it come from a literal stranger was different.
You couldn’t lie that you hadn’t recently had your moments of perhaps thinking that he did, though you’d always talk yourself out of the idea. Although, if he was in love with you that may explain his behavior tonight. Or maybe it was just the alcohol like you’d originally thought. Then the tender moment you two shared entered your mind and suddenly the gears in your head are working overtime.
You locked your phone and sat it back down on the nightstand. Just from a simple DM you’d gone from being dead tired to now being wide awake– staring at the ceiling. You’re not sure how much time had passed as you laid there over analyzing every interaction with Lando. You were struggling enough trying to figure out the things you had recently felt about Lando, let alone the possibility that he was in love with you. All you knew for sure was that things weren’t the same between you two, you’d felt a shift when you were with him in Monaco before the Belgium GP. It had only amplified during this trip and you had a feeling that by the end of it things would be different.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
Two days later you’re sunbathing on a comfy lounger on the beach, while Lando’s out in the water doing god knows what. You’d given up on watching him a while ago, deciding instead to be productive and try to catch up to Lando’s tan level. Which, after laying here for some time now, it seemed impossible. That boy could be in the sun for a day and have a glowing tan– you not so much.
Moments later you think a cloud has passed in front of the sun, but when you feel cool water droplets on your hot skin you peek open one eye to find a wet and grinning Lando standing over you. “Hi.”
“Hi.” You greet him back as you sit up, your smile matching his. “Did you have fun out there?”
“I had a lot of fun and the water felt amazing. You should have got in.”
“I will later.” You notice he’s got one of his hands behind his back like he’s hiding something. “Lan, what have you got?” He tries to play dumb for a moment, trying to wind you up, but he eventually caves and pulls a plastic pail from behind his back. “Please don’t tell me you stole that from a kid.” Your half joking and half being serious, because where the hell did he get that from?
“I did not steal it from a kid– I borrowed it.” The smile on his face never falls as he continues to speak. “They had a bunch of them. I don't think they’ll miss it. Plus I needed something to put your present in.”
You cock an eyebrow at him, curiosity written all over your face. “My present?”
He’s smiling so hard as he sits down at the end of the lounger that you think this must be the best present in the world. Seconds later the pail is turned upside down and out falls the prettiest seashells. Your heart swells when you realize all that time he had spent out in the water he was looking for shells– for you. There’s a light pink one that catches your eye and Lando notices when you reach for it.
“Knew you’d like that one.”
Of course he knew that, sometimes you think he knows you better than you know yourself. “Can’t believe you spent all that time finding them.”
He shrugs like it’s an everyday thing. “I knew it would make you happy, which meant I enjoyed doing it. Really only took me so long because I wanted them all to be perfect for you.”
The sun beating down on you feels cold with how hard you’re blushing. “You’re my favorite person, you know that?”
Lando starts to get shy when you get sappy, like he hadn’t just said the sweetest thing a second ago. He’s smiling, but focuses on carefully putting the shells back into the pail. “You’re my favorite person too.”
A while later you decide to open up the umbrella between the two loungers. You had chosen to give up on the tanning lifestyle and instead dive into a new book. While Lando was fast asleep on the lounger next to you, apparently all that hunting for shells had worn him out.
You’d noticed out of the corner of your eye awhile ago that a little boy kept glancing over in your direction, specifically at Lando. You knew he had to have been a fan or he was the kid Lando stole the pail from. The nervous glances back and forth tell you that thankfully he’s a fan and you think it’s the cutest thing. You’re in the middle of considering waking Lando up so the boy could come over when you hear a groan that is undoubtedly Lando awaking from his slumber.
“What are you looking at?” He asks as he rubs his eyes.
You nod your head in the direction of the boy who’s just seen that Lando is awake and is practically bouncing with glee. “Think you may have a fan.”
A big grin spreads across Lando’s face as he sees the little boy. Lando loved meeting all his fans, but meeting the kids was his favorite. He thinks a big part of the reason he always makes sure to find time for the younger fans was because he was that kid once. Before he was ever F1 driver Lando Norris, he was just a kid who finally got the chance to meet their idol and he knows that picture or an autograph means the world to them
Lando motions for the boy to come over and he’s instantly tugging on his Mom’s shirt to get her to come with him. She gives you guys a questioning look and when Lando motions again they both come over.
The little boy’s Italian accent is the cutest thing ever as he greets you two and you can tell just how much it means to him to be talking to Lando.
“What’s your name?” Lando asks as he signs a beach towel of all things.
“Luca and I’m seven!”
“Seven is a great age. You know I started karting when I was seven!”
Luca’s eyes get as wide as saucers as he glances back at his Mom, who is already shutting down any talk of Luca karting. “I told you possibly next year. You’re still my little baby. I don't want you getting hurt!”
Lando gives the Mom an apologetic look. “How about a picture?” Which easily takes Luca’s attention away from karting, as he’s already at Lando’s side with a big smile on his face before his Mom has her phone out.
They take a couple pictures and high fives are exchanged throughout their interaction. The whole thing is very sweet and you can’t help but look on in adoration, fully knowing that Lando would make a great Father one day.
You see that Luca keeps looking over at you and then back to Lando, but you don’t pay that much mind to it. You figured he was just nervous or something, but what comes out of his mouth next takes you by surprise.
“Your girlfriend is very pretty.”
You feel your heart skip a beat and you glance over at Lando to see what his reaction is. You prepare yourself for the worst, but in true Lando fashion he’s all smiles. In fact he’s sporting that full face smile of his and it makes you feel funny.
“Thank you buddy, I think so too.” He looks over at you with nothing but love in his eyes and you’re immediately looking away like some shy school girl.
Thankfully, the Mom comes to your aid and quickly changes the subject. “Ok Luca, you’ve bothered them enough. We should get back to our spot. Thank them for their time.”
His cute little voice mutters out grazie as he gives you a small wave goodbye.
“It was very nice to meet you, Luca.” Lando bids him farewell and you both wave back at the little boy.
As soon as they’re gone you’re immediately shoving your face back into your book, you don’t even want to talk about what had just happened. It was nothing really to be so worked up over, it was just a little kid who saw two people together and assumed they were together. It happens all the time. But it is a big deal when you find yourself liking being referred to as Lando’s girlfriend. It doesn’t help when neither of you deny it and correct the person. Lando likes to play into it and you love it too much to say anything.
Ever since getting that DM the other night your mind had been in a whirlwind over how Lando felt about you and how you felt about him. Hell you can’t even look at him right now, you’re so in your head that you’ve been staring at the same page for the last five minutes. You just wished the book you were reading could tell you how to come to terms with the fact that you’re in love with your best friend.
It was something you’d realized the other night while you were awake overthinking everything. Those feelings had always been there, but you had just pushed them aside, ignoring every little butterfly or rapid heartbeat. When they actually turned into romantic feelings you have no clue because as far as you knew, you and Lando had always been like this.
You two just dove in head first into the co-dependent friendship that was more like a relationship lifestyle. All those times you’d gone to his parents house for family dinners and holidays, both of you attached at the hip. How he wanted to ask you to move to Monaco with him and then almost didn’t even move because he said he’d miss you too much. The group vacations that always ended up with you two going off and doing your own thing. The texts from him every Wednesday before a race asking if he needed to get you a paddock pass and a flight. This trip in particular– sleeping in the same bed when you don’t have to, the cuddling, the getting mistaken for a couple three times so far, the fact that it was just you two alone on the trip.
It was all there the whole time and you wondered how you could have been so blind to not realize it sooner. You were in love with him. You loved his pretty eyes and curls and the way his real laugh only seemed to come out around you. You loved his big heart and his caring nature and sometimes you thought he was too nice to be a Formula 1 driver.
You loved everything about him and truth be told it made your stomach hurt from how much you loved him. You wanted to actually be his and be able to kiss those pink lips that you sometimes found yourself staring at. When people said you were his girlfriend you wanted it to actually be true and not have it be Lando just playing along. You were so down bad that you prayed that Harry was right and that Lando was actually in love with you too.
While you were freaking out, so was Lando. When you immediately went back to reading your book and not speaking a word, he figured he had weirded you out by basically implying that you were his girlfriend. He just figured it was easier to go along with what the kid thought than explain that you weren’t his girlfriend, but god does he wish you were. He didn’t know what to say to try and test the waters because he knew whatever he would say would come out awkward and he didn’t want to make things worse. So, once again it’s not talked about and you two pretend that it didn’t happen when you finally speak again.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
It’s the last day of the trip and you’re dreading going back to reality and away from this little slice of heaven. The only thing you have to look forward to is the supposed fancy dinner that Lando had planned for tonight, which was what you were currently getting ready for. Music plays through your phone and you softly sing along as you do your makeup. When you look up after digging in your makeup bag you spot Lando in the mirror, leaning against the door frame behind you. Your eyes lower and you see that he’s holding two gift bags.
"Those better be for your Mom.” You state as you put the finishing touches on your makeup.
“I think we both know they aren’t.” He sees you roll your eyes in the mirror and it only makes him want to spoil you more. “It’s our last day, I think you deserve a parting gift.”
You turn to face him as he makes his way over to you. “I haven’t gotten you a single thing this whole time. It makes me feel bad.”
Lando only shakes his head at you. “You being here with me is the best gift you could have ever gotten me. I truly don’t need anything else.” He hands you the bags. “Now open them please.”
A small smile finds its way onto your face as you take the bags from him. You decide to open the bigger bag first and once you pull out the tissue paper you know exactly what it is. It’s still in its dust bag, but you see the branding and your jaw is dropping before you even see the actual thing. “You did not get me this bag Lando!” You exclaim as you remove the dust bag and see that it’s the same bag you were eyeing at the store the other day.
He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Saw you eyeing it and knew I had to get it for you and before you say anything else open the other present.”
You set the handbag down and grab the smaller gift trying to figure out what else he could have possibly gotten you. When you open it and see the bracelet you were also looking at the other day you’re at a loss for words. “Lando Norris!” You could slap him, hug him, kiss him, and yell at him all at once. He’d dropped probably close to six grand on these two gifts and your head is spinning at the thought of it.
“Don’t even say anything about the price. I know you’re thinking it, but I wouldn’t have bought you them if I couldn’t afford it. I wanted you to have them, you deserve nice things.” You deserved a lot more than a handbag and a bracelet, but what he thought you deserved money couldn’t buy.
You know there's no use in fighting him on it, but you still feel bad that he just spends all this money on you. He takes the bracelet from the box and fastens it around your wrist, the diamonds glittering in the light as you move it around. It’s truly stunning and the handbag will go great with your outfit tonight. As soon as you two make eye contact again you’re pulling him into a bone crushing hug and you two stay like that for probably longer than necessary. “Thank you a million times Lan. I love them both so much.”
It’s time to leave for dinner shortly after that and when you arrive at the restaurant the host guides you back to a secluded corner. It’s a very romantic ambiance and you can’t help but feel like you’re on a date, which wouldn’t be a horrible thing. Moments later a waiter comes over with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “It’s on the house– for the special couple.”
There it is again and it seems like with each time it happens it makes your heart race even more. Lando shifts in his seat and you focus on the rising bubbles in the glasses as the waiter pours the champagne. Lando tells him thank you and your attention moves to the menu.
“What are you thinking about getting?” You ask, ignoring the obvious.
“Probably the steak.” He grabs the flute of champagne and takes a drink. “What was that? The fourth time now?”
You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you’re surprised he’s decided to talk about it. “Yeah it was.” You set the menu down and grab the other flute. “Think I’ll get the steak too.”
Dinner actually turns out to be an amazing time. The food is decadent and Lando and you have good conversations that don’t revolve around you two being mistaken for a couple or being in love with each other. When the waiter brings the bill you’re quite sad because that just means this trip is that much closer to being over.
You take your time heading back to the villa, trying to savor every last moment you’ve got here. The sun was low in the sky by the time you get back and you tell Lando just how you want to spend your final evening in Italy. You hurry and change into comfier clothes and take off all your makeup before heading to the spot with the best view out back. Lando makes his way out there not too long after you, but he’s got one more surprise for you.
“Don’t think the evening or this trip would be complete without this now would it?” He pulls a bottle of pink moscato from behind his back along with two wine glasses.
He knew you too well, but it was something you loved dearly about him. “You’re a man after my heart Norris.”
He hands you a glass as he sits down next to you, the sun just beginning to set on the horizon. “I try.”
There’s a comfortable silence between you two for a while and the only sound to be heard is from the waves below. It feels like paradise sitting here with this amazing view and the guy you love next to you. It’s probably boring to the majority of people, but this was everything you could ask for and more and the perfect way to end this amazing trip. You lean in closer to Lando, your head resting on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you. A content sigh escapes past your lips as his thumb starts to draw mindless circles on your arm.
“Thank you again for everything. This trip was amazing and I’m glad we got to go together– just you and me.”
“I’m glad too. It was probably the best summer break trip I’ve had. Don’t think Ibiza will be seeing me for a while.”
You’re not even looking at him, but you can sense the smile on his face and you can’t help but laugh at his lie. “Yeah, and I don’t like pink moscato.”
“Alright so Ibiza will inevitably see me, but not as much as Italy.” He pauses for a moment, glancing down at you still resting on his shoulder, his heart swelling just by looking at you. “I think this may be our place now, just for the two of us.” His voice is soft when he says it, like he’s not sure if he wanted to say it outloud.
You lift your head up and are met with his piercing blue eyes staring back at you. He looked radiant as golden hour cascades over him and it’s like you’re in a trance as you look at him. You take in every last bit of him, all the little details about him that you’ve memorized over the years. The slight stubble on his face from not shaving for a couple days, the little moles, his long and somehow always curled eyelashes, those pink lips of his. He’s everything you could have ever dreamed of and more. You’ve had him at fingertip length for so long now and all you want to do is reach out for him, take what you want and never let go.
Lando feels his breath catch in his throat as you two make eye contact. You’d never looked more beautiful than in this moment and he doesn’t know how much longer he can take without you actually being his. You were the love of his life, his best friend, and everything he’s ever wanted. It may have taken him a long time to realize it, but he’s never felt like this about anyone before. You know each other like the back of your hands and it only makes sense that you’d be the one for him.
And it’s in this moment that it clicks for you two that it’s now or never. You’re never going to have a perfect moment like this again. It feels right, like the universe wants this moment to happen and if you let it go to waste you may never get the chance again. Lando takes his free hand and gently cups your face, his thumb ever so softly rubbing across your cheek. You’re practically putty in his hands and you feel like your heart is gonna beat out of your chest. You want to scream out to him that you love him, that you want to be his, but you can barely get your brain to communicate with your mouth.
“Lan-”
That’s all you can get out before Lando’s leaning in and his lips are on yours. He tastes like the sugary sweet wine and his lips are soft as they move in sync with yours. Kissing him is even better than you’d imagined and as your hand reaches up to his neck you deepen the kiss. It feels like you two had kissed a thousand times before and as he pulls away you’re already left wanting more.
Your foreheads rest against each other, both of you breathless and a little light headed from that singular kiss. When you both actually internalize what’s just happened you’re both grinning, that then turns into laughing and it’s like music to both of your ears to hear each other laugh.
“I think that was a long time coming.” You state as you finally lean back onto the couch.
Lando reaches out for your hand, intertwining his with yours. “When did you realize?”
“That night when we got into that argument, which looking back now, you were totally jealous.”
“I was not jealous!” He tries to be serious, but the knowing look on your face has him cracking. “Ok I was jealous.”
“When did you realize?” You question.
“That same night. I couldn’t understand why you flirting with that guy bothered me so much. Well I guess now we know.”
“Yeah cause you’re in loooveee with me.” You’re laughing as you speak, but he shuts you up with another kiss and leaves you pouting when he pulls away.
“Only kissed you twice and you’re already pouting when I pull away? I think you’re in loooveee with me.”
You lean back in, capturing his lips in yet another kiss and you’re like teenagers who’ve gotten into their first relationship.
Lando sighs when you stop kissing him, he can’t believe he could have had this sooner if he would have just opened his eyes. “You think you could get another week off from work?”
You’d do anything to get another week in a paradise with him, but you know it’s not possible. “Hmm, why don’t you just spend a week in London with me?”
“Well you haven’t even told them that you now have a famous F1 driver boyfriend. Who if they didn’t know already is very needy and needs to see his girlfriend.” He teases.
“Well you forgot to add that you’re my hot and famous F1 driver boyfriend.” You counter back.
You’re both grinning like fools at each other and as you curl up into his side and take in the last sunset you’ll see in the place that now holds such a special place in both of your hearts, you’re glad you let him convince you to come on this trip.
As the sun finally sets over the water you actually say those three little words.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris fic#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic#lando norris fluff#mine#writing
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what’s the story about the generative power model and water consumption? /gen
There's this myth going around about generative AI consuming truly ridiculous amount of power and water. You'll see people say shit like "generating one image is like just pouring a whole cup of water out into the Sahara!" and bullshit like that, and it's just... not true. The actual truth is that supercomputers, which do a lot of stuff, use a lot of power, and at one point someone released an estimate of how much power some supercomputers were using and people went "oh, that supercomputer must only do AI! All generative AI uses this much power!" and then just... made shit up re: how making an image sucks up a huge chunk of the power grid or something. Which makes no sense because I'm given to understand that many of these models can run on your home computer. (I don't use them so I don't know the details, but I'm told by users that you can download them and generate images locally.) Using these models uses far less power than, say, online gaming. Or using Tumblr. But nobody ever talks about how evil those things are because of their power generation. I wonder why.
To be clear, I don't like generative AI. I'm sure it's got uses in research and stuff but on the consumer side, every effect I've seen of it is bad. Its implementation in products that I use has always made those products worse. The books it writes and flood the market with are incoherent nonsense at best and dangerous at worst (let's not forget that mushroom foraging guide). It's turned the usability of search engines from "rapidly declining, but still usable if you can get past the ads" into "almost one hundred per cent useless now, actually not worth the effort to de-bullshittify your search results", especially if you're looking for images. It's a tool for doing bullshit that people were already doing much easier and faster, thus massively increasing the amount of bullshit. The only consumer-useful uses I've seen of it as a consumer are niche art projects, usually projects that explore the limits of the tool itself like that one poetry book or the Infinite Art Machine; overall I'd say its impact at the Casual Random Person (me) level has been overwhelmingly negative. Also, the fact that so much AI turns out to be underpaid people in a warehouse in some country with no minimum wage and terrible labour protections is... not great. And the fact that it's often used as an excuse to try to find ways to underpay professionals ("you don't have to write it, just clean up what the AI came up with!") is also not great.
But there are real labour and product quality concerns with generative AI, and there's hysterical bullshit. And the whole "AI is magically destroying the planet via climate change but my four hour twitch streaming sesh isn't" thing is hysterical bullshit. The instant I see somebody make this stupid claim I put them in the same mental bucket as somebody complaining about AI not being "real art" -- a hatemobber hopping on the hype train of a new thing to hate and feel like an enlightened activist about when they haven't bothered to learn a fucking thing about the issue. And I just count my blessings that they fell in with this group instead of becoming a flat earther or something.
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Terry Pratchett about fantasy ❤
Terry Pratchett interview in The Onion, 1995 (x)
O: You’re quite a writer. You’ve a gift for language, you’re a deft hand at plotting, and your books seem to have an enormous amount of attention to detail put into them. You’re so good you could write anything. Why write fantasy?
Terry: I had a decent lunch, and I’m feeling quite amiable. That’s why you’re still alive. I think you’d have to explain to me why you’ve asked that question.
O: It’s a rather ghettoized genre.
Terry: This is true. I cannot speak for the US, where I merely sort of sell okay. But in the UK I think every book— I think I’ve done twenty in the series— since the fourth book, every one has been one the top ten national bestsellers, either as hardcover or paperback, and quite often as both. Twelve or thirteen have been number one. I’ve done six juveniles, all of those have nevertheless crossed over to the adult bestseller list. On one occasion I had the adult best seller, the paperback best-seller in a different title, and a third book on the juvenile bestseller list. Now tell me again that this is a ghettoized genre.
O: It’s certainly regarded as less than serious fiction.
Terry: (Sighs) Without a shadow of a doubt, the first fiction ever recounted was fantasy. Guys sitting around the campfire— Was it you who wrote the review? I thought I recognized it— Guys sitting around the campfire telling each other stories about the gods who made lightning, and stuff like that. They did not tell one another literary stories. They did not complain about difficulties of male menopause while being a junior lecturer on some midwestern college campus.
Fantasy is without a shadow of a doubt the ur-literature, the spring from which all other literature has flown. Up to a few hundred years ago no one would have disagreed with this, because most stories were, in some sense, fantasy. Back in the middle ages, people wouldn’t have thought twice about bringing in Death as a character who would have a role to play in the story. Echoes of this can be seen in Pilgrim’s Progress, for example, which hark back to a much earlier type of storytelling. The epic of Gilgamesh is one of the earliest works of literature, and by the standard we would apply now— a big muscular guys with swords and certain godlike connections— That’s fantasy. The national literature of Finland, the Kalevala. Beowulf in England. I cannot pronounce Bahaghvad-Gita but the Indian one, you know what I mean. The national literature, the one that underpins everything else, is by the standards that we apply now, a work of fantasy.
Now I don’t know what you’d consider the national literature of America, but if the words Moby Dick are inching their way towards this conversation, whatever else it was, it was also a work of fantasy. Fantasy is kind of a plasma in which other things can be carried. I don’t think this is a ghetto. This is, fantasy is, almost a sea in which other genres swim. Now it may be that there has developed in the last couple of hundred years a subset of fantasy which merely uses a different icongraphy, and that is, if you like, the serious literature, the Booker Prize contender. Fantasy can be serious literature. Fantasy has often been serious literature. You have to fairly dense to think that Gulliver’s Travels is only a story about a guy having a real fun time among big people and little people and horses and stuff like that. What the book was about was something else. Fantasy can carry quite a serious burden, and so can humor. So what you’re saying is, strip away the trolls and the dwarves and things and put everyone into modern dress, get them to agonize a bit, mention Virginia Woolf a few times, and there! Hey! I’ve got a serious novel. But you don’t actually have to do that.
(Pauses) That was a bloody good answer, though I say it myself.
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Reckless Romantics
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Synopsis: Can be read as a stand alone or part two to getting ready for me; a return to innocent, inexperienced!reader and her relationship with Rick Grimes; two weeks after their first time together there has been some distance, but now Rick wants to make up for how hasty he was when he touched her last.
Details: Rick Grimes x fem!reader, smut: oral (f receiving) and teaching reader how to give a handjob, unspecified (of age) age gap, sweetness + kissing + a little mutual pining maybe, probably cliche, and leaning more into Rick as the dutiful leader and gentle lover (I feel this is just as in character as dom!Rick). Reader is a music lover— any kind of music you like— but she also likes a specific band only because I watched a documentary about them at the theater in July so it made its way into the story. Slightly proofread— will be corrected more later. wc: 5-7k (I lost track after finishing it on tumblr).
A/N: I wrote this message before I returned for the summer, but I still want you to read it: Been spending time outside this summer, trying to reach some goals— time got away from me. I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying I miss you, but please know it’s always true.
— with love from writella, my beautiful reader. ♡
Rick Grimes was not a man to give in to temptation.
My mercy prevails over my wrath, he’d say— his secret keepsake phrase. The one he whispers to himself in moments of hardship; the one he uses when he needs to make decisions only a leader would. Rick was a man of discipline; honor. He never boasted about how seriously he took these qualities, but when others did— admired, applauded, stuck by him for it— it would be a lie to say that he didn’t take note and use their pride to keep him going. This is how he knows he is strong-willed, why he wouldn’t fall for foolish, forbidden things. He was better than that. The safety and prosperity he brought to Alexandria proved it, reaffirmed it.
So why couldn’t someone remind him of that two weeks ago before he touched you?
As for you, you believed yourself to be a girl who wouldn’t fall so easily for the first man who showed you any kind of affection.
From an adolescence of peers who never seemed to take notice of you to one filled with walkers and adults who were either dead or seldom your age, you learned how hard love, let alone any connection, is to come by. It has made you quite the perpetual daydreamer because of it. One with a heart and mind filled with fantasy worlds, creating what you lacked externally. It often made you see yourself as much younger than you were despite all you’ve been through. No regular person your age in the old world has probably escaped as many deaths and wannabe cowboy dictators as you have. Still, they probably knew what it was like to have a high school romance, or at least go to the movies with friends, and have graduated from well, anything. You were simply born too late and shoved into this new world too early to experience even half of it.
This upbringing has brought you up to believe yourself precocious, although— maybe you were already too old for that word now. No, you were, so maybe– sensible, realistic despite the overactive imagination; you could decipher between right and wrong, real versus fake. This is why, for as long as you could, you did not entertain any thoughts of Rick Grimes.
Other people would though, women mostly. But you did have your suspicions of others who thought the same— they just weren't as shameless. Those who were, could be found during lunch breaks from work on house porches; or laughing and whispering at community gatherings and at the back of town hall meetings. Basically any time or place they could turn into a gossip session, which was often. And it didn’t always have to do with Rick. It could be about any one of the men in town; or retelling funny moments to their friends or complaining about their co-workers. But anything of true, great interest always had to do with the community leaders. You wish you could say you were the exception to this interest, but hypocritically, you loved a good inside scoop, and luckily for you, you had a trustworthy way about you. Almost everyone who spoke to you or allowed you to sit with them and their friends for meals agreed: you were a intent, quiet listener making you the best kind of person to say things to without judgment; and people assumed you as shy, yet you loved to laugh which was great for boosting egos. They often treated you as a little sister in that way, as if the pleasure was all yours to get to hear their ramblings because they were either older or perceived themselves to be more sociable and experienced than you. You tried not to care too much about what they took you for. It was nice to feel trusted, even if people could be a little too mean or weird for your liking because no matter who it was, they made you feel as if you were watching television, and you missed television. They told you things from period mishaps– (it’s the apocalypse, there are a lot of free bleeding queens okay)— to which people in their workstations annoyed them most with very detailed explanations as to why and, of course, rumors or general talk about the leaders: who they thought each of them has slept with, if there seemed to be any fighting between them and what side they were taking, and obviously, anything that had to do with one of the guys. Some were downright obvious that one or the other was their type, while others might try to be more sly about it, always bringing whichever man it was up more than the others. But unless they were diehard Daryl girls, wanted to dominate Glenn, or had some military man, hot priest, or doctor kink for Abraham, Gabriel, or Siddiq, most of them apparently felt that Rick was the love of their lives. He was like a local celebrity. A band’s frontman.
“So, what about you?” One of your scavenging partners asked on the ride home. “Which one do you like?”
“They’re all attractive guys,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road. “But I don’t really think about them like that.” You feel a flush coming on. Crushes, or anything romantic, is a part of your internal world, not something you discuss aloud.
“Come on,” she prods. “You never join in. You just laugh at us for being delusional.”
“Whose us?” Rosita asks, her voice sharp, humorous, and not without judgment. “I don’t talk about that shit.” But secretly, she loved the drama as much as you and would have many questions for you later tonight about why you have yet to tell her of the town obsession of treating her friends like the cast of a reality show.
“I don’t laugh at you! I like it when you guys talk about that stuff.”
“But what I’m saying is that I didn’t let you ride shotgun this time so you can hold out again,” the girl jokes half-heartedly.
“What do you mean this time? I get to ride shotgun because I’m the one with the CDs.”
And it’s true, the only thing that cancelled out the silence of drive in moments where conversation ceased was your Oasis album playing in the background. Learning about the band was your new obsession. Much like listening to the crazy imaginations of the girls in town, you found the Gallagher brother rivalry riveting even if you only knew pieces of the story from the music, scraps of magazine articles, and by asking whoever in town happened to be a teen in the 90s. Thankfully you had hit the jackpot today though. One of the houses you visited was once occupied by a dad and daughter with an insane music collection in the living room and a smaller, more curated one in the girl’s room. After gathering what new music you wanted to try from downstairs, you also found some old issues of QuizFest in the girl’s room, filled with activities that were themed with shows you remember from when you were a kid, but the most important discovery— the find of all finds— was one of those Ultimate Guide, Complete Life Story magazines of none other than the band Oasis.
You would now probably know all of the drama between the brothers to tell a coherent story about the band’s history to anyone who wanted an escape from walker related events and farming talk. When you weren’t listening, that’s what people would come to you for: to borrow music, get recommendations, or to tell them a story. In all, you were getting the reputation of being the town’s music historian, meaning you usually used your knowledge to avoid talking about yourself. And it mostly worked.
Except for now.
“Well, if I had to guess,” the girl persists despite your silence, “I think it would be Rick.”
“What?” Noticing the incredulity in your tone, you calm your voice. Shrugging you say, “Why Rick? Everyone likes him.”
Rosita sends a look your way. It’s innocent enough, probably just showing that she is still listening on as she drives but you were refusing to look at anyone now to know for sure.
“Exactly,” the girl says. “He’s a classic knight in shining armor type. I feel like he’d talk you through it, which I think would be good for— someone like you.”
Your face is on fire, you can’t even speak properly. “I- first of all, what do you know about my experience?” you ask, the incredulous tone returning. But all you get as an answer is knowing snorts and chortles from the two women. Ouch. Nonetheless, you continue, “Second, you think shooting a guy in the head in front of his wife and the whole town is chivalrous?”
Oh—
That makes car goes quiet.
You know you made a mistake.
You didn’t mean it as crassly as you said it, and you did feel bad for saying it knowing that the situation was more difficult than you summed it up to be, but you didn’t apologize. All this talk about crushes and especially Rick made you embarrassed. It’s not that you didn't see what others saw anyway. Of course you noticed how nice Rick’s curls are, how he doesn’t have to use any product for them to look as they do; or those blue eyes and how when you get closer, they become that much more stark and crisp; or how good he was at talking to people, convincing them of things or simply just reassuring them as a friend; and that southern drawl that still sometimes catches you by surprise by sounding so pronounced at the end of certain words, making his voice that much more intoxicating. Of course you saw the appeal, but that didn’t mean you had a crush on him.
Right?
Maybe it doesn’t matter. You just felt you knew better. He was like a president. You know of them, and you believe in them, but you don’t get close to them. And it didn’t matter that he told Carl to personally deliver you a stereo he and Daryl found while out once. How he remembered how you liked music. How he told Carl to tell you this one was probably better than the old one you had, that it was louder. You only showed him your old stereo that once when he was helping you move. He was just a perceptive guy with a good memory. All leaders are like that.
Right?
Anyway, let’s get back to your crass… joke.
“Hilarious.” Rosita says and you hear the low contempt in her voice at your insensitivity.
“That was ages ago though,” the girl chimes in, saving you just a little, “and he did it to help her. He didn’t care about the mess he made. He save her. I’d say that’s pretty romantic.”
“Let’s not call that romantic,” Rosita scoffs, and despite the slight frustration, there was a quiet sadness in her voice at the memory. “That wasn’t love.”
“That was reckless, not romantic.” You agree. Partly because you truly do, but also in attempt to win back favor from your friend. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
But after that day, it was all you could think about.
The idea of a knight; a romantic; someone that would do anything for you, ruin his reputation for you; find gifts from the outside that he’d send is son to give to you. Maybe you did find it charming, idyllic.
These thoughts soared in your mind so much so that on one night when thinking about boys from books or your favorite artists wasn't enough during moments under your sheets when your back arched and your fingers trailed up your thighs, your mind switched from people you would never meet to him, to Rick. Your eyes scrunched tighter, and you tried to shake it away, telling yourself it was just the women in town and the talk in the car getting to you. But then you thought about how rich and hot pink his lips looked on a bright sun-burning day and how it would feel like flames firing inside of you if he kissed you with them.
Ideas like these went on for nearly a year now. You even started questioned if maybe you had always liked him, maybe you were always just like the other girls even though tried to not be. You had thought it made you respectful, realistic; after all, how could Rick be the love of your life if he was everyone’s? Wonderings like this became even worse and more confusing when Rosita had asked if you’d like to move in with her. Becoming closer with her meant being around the leaders more often, which meant coincidental encounters and conversations with Rick as well. Quickly, he wasn’t just that president or celebrity anymore who talked to you sometimes and got you that stereo that once. He was becoming a peer— at least in some ways. One who was curious about your interests as much as your opinions. But it’s not exactly like you were in the in-crowd now as some people assumed. You didn’t get to go to leader meetings, and as much as you knew Rosita must have been telling you more than others know, she couldn’t have been telling you everything. But you did see him more than other people now, when he and the leaders came over to the house or when Rosita was invited over to theirs and she’s tell you to come too. And now, with these thoughts spiraling, you can’t help but to look back at the at the times where Rick approached you, gave you all his attention no matter how small it was and asked you about what you were listening to or reading that week, letting you ramble. He was an older guy, yes, but he cared, he actually listened, and he didn’t make you feel like the childish little sister others do.
Sadly, you did become the fawn like you had told yourself you wouldn’t be. But you couldn’t stop picturing him when you closed your eyes, and in fact, it was nice to imagine someone to fall asleep with, to wake up to. It was just going be your secret. Part of your fantasy world. But then— it all caught up to you.
Through the sliver of the open door he saw you, fingers between folds, goading yourself on as you chanted his name in whispers.
And to your surprise, he encouraged it. No, he did so much more than that— he helped you, made you come; gave you your first orgasm and made you his like no one has before.
You loved it. You gave into it. Even if it was just one secret moment. It made you give into the idea that this would continue but of course, it didn’t. He hasn’t spoken to you in almost three weeks until—
“Woah-” you gasp, almost crashing into just the person as you exit your room.
“Sorry,” you both say in unison, holding onto each other's forearms before quickly letting go. Your arms cross over into your chest before dropping as you enter your room again, clearing the hallway, and his hands go behind his back. He’s still as unsteady as you are, his mouth is slightly open, thinking of what to say.
“Hi,” you whisper tentatively.
“Good morning,” he politely replies. His eyes now smile slightly as he nods to you. You don’t miss how the light emanating from your bright room makes them shine. And he doesn’t miss how the light shining behind your figure makes you, in your white cotton sundress, look like an absolute angel.
“Good morning,” you repeat, giggling slightly, not knowing what else to say.
“Good morning,” he says again, lost and as giddy as you are.
“Oh wait— is the leader’s meeting here today?” Rick starts to nod and answers yes as you continue to speak, “I totally forgot! I’m sorry. I know I should be gone by now.”
He shakes his head, “It’s fine. I was just going to the bathroom.”
“Here? Was someone in the one downstairs?”
“Just wanted to be away from everyone when they came. Daryl and I came early so we started talking and I just- we didn’t see eye to eye on something. I needed a minute.”
You nod. That seems to be your signature when to talk to him. You hated it honestly. Often over-analyzing your words, worrying you’ll sound immature or stutter in front of him. “I'm sorry,” you tell him sympathetically. For a moment there is only silence which makes you worry he will go away, so without thinking, you ask: “I know you’re busy but, if you need a moment, maybe you would like to come in here instead?”
Rick freezes but then, inevitably agrees. As he enters, you close the door and quickly go to shut off the low playing stereo and rehang some of the dresses on your chair in the closet— you had been getting ready for the day. Rick goes to sit on the chair after you empty it but you stop him. You sit on the vertical side of your bed and guesture Rick to sit in the spot next to you, closer to the headboard. You wanted to sit next to him.
Rick doesn’t question this, maybe he wanted to be as close to you as you had, so as he sits, your thighs touch. You try not to move too much at the first contact. Still, the heat that starts to burn inside you makes you realize how much you’ve craved this. Can two weeks feel like a lifetime? It’s like you haven’t felt him in ages.
“What were you playing today?” He asks and you realize you eyes went straight to the area where yours and Rick’s legs touched. You know he noticed but still you try to answer normally.
“Selena. Rosita loves her. It’s one of her most famous songs: Amor Prohibido.”
He nods. “I probably wouldn’t understand a bit of it,” he laughs.
He would probably remember the singer from the news if you gave more context but you don’t. There is a silence that follows until you ask, “So,” starting slowly, “what’s wrong? Is Daryl aright?”
He doesn’t answer. His mouth is open as if he’s deciding what to say, but nothing comes out, so you continue, “You know, nothing is ever right in the world when Rick and Daryl fight. It makes me sad.”
The joke makes those lines at the sides of his eyes appear— a quiet laugh. “Well you know I’d never want to make you sad. Especially not you.” You two exchange a light smile while that heat rises fast to your heart. “We’ll be fine,” he finally says, but then he goes quiet again. Rick seems unsure if he wants to continue. He even looks at the door, wonders if the others have shown up yet, but— he knows he doesn’t want to leave. And even more, he knows he shouldn’t after ignoring you like some teenage boy. He decides to tell you what’s happening: “Daryl wants us to bring new people in. You know how he’s always going out there. But I think it’s way too soon.”
You hum agreeingly, but at the same time, you understand Daryl. “I think he just likes to give people what he never used to have,” you suggest.
“I know,” he nods a bit annoyedly; “and that’s a nice way to put it, but you know him, when he has his mind set on somethin’ he can be so damn stubborn. It’s frustrating. He won’t compromise or listen to anything.”
Endearingly, you try to withhold a laugh, your lisp pursing. Not only because when he says anything, it actually sounds like anythang, but because Rick sounds like he’s describing himself and he doesn’t even realize it.
“And,” he adds, pausing for a moment before he continues, scratching his beard. It looks as if maybe he shouldn’t tell you what he’s about to. His head hangs low to say: This is not information for everyone to know, okay? But the last time he went out there with Glenn, the reason Glenn’s arm is in a sling right now, is because they met a group, tried to bring them back and before they could make it even close to home, the group fought ‘em, tried to steal what they scavenged, and almost kill Glenn.”
You widen your eyes at the statement. You actually already knew this from Rosita, but that will stay between you two. All you feel is humbled that he felt he share it with you, despite it being a dark thing. It was a close call. Rick was right for being very cautious right now. “Wow,” is all you can get in before he speaks again.
“Imagine if we lost him. Fought this war with his wife and unborn baby at the time for nothing? So he couldn’t even meet him?” Rick shakes his head, and you notice his foot tapping lightly, making his knee bounce. This had happened a month ago now but it was obviously affecting him. “It was reckless and I told him that. That right now we need to be focusing on what’s inside these walls. People have only just started getting back to being comfortable now; to feeling like this is a home.”
Your eyes remain wide, “We did so much rebuilding you.”
“We did complete rebuilding.” He corrects, though not rudely. Shaking his head, he goes back to talking about Daryl: “I think I made it seem like what happened to Glenn was his fault. So not only were we arguing but I must’ve hurt him,” Rick realizes, “and now he definitely won’t be back today— maybe not even until next week.”
A silence hangs in the air after this; it seems he finished. Now, you know you should speak, but as the silence continues, you grow more unsure of what to say. Issues like these are things you’ve never dealt with. You didn’t want to say something stereotypical.
“I’m sorry I’m putting all this on you.”
“No, no,” you quickly console, trying to think. “Um, well,” you say, starting unsteadily, “this is probably going to sound stupid and not helpful. I don’t even remember the exact context or what was truly said so it might not make any sense either but, do you remember when I had my Oasis obsession? Earlier this year?”
“I do,” he laughs, turning his head over to your music table. His eyes scan any of the visible album titles to see if he can find it, but the print on most of them are too small. He turns back to you as you continue:
“This is going to sound a little far off but I think you and Daryl are like Liam and Noel.”
His eyebrows furrow, “Didn’t those two hate each other?”
“I mean, yes— but it’s much more complicated than that to me— but no, I don’t mean in that way. It just that there is this quote Noel says that I don’t remember exactly, but I really liked: he said that even though he wrote the music and Liam did the singing that Liam meant the words just as much as Noel did because they’re brothers and he wrote them. I thought that was beautiful, but…” you trail off.
He stays silent, trying to give you space to find your words but you feel like you’ve gone too far. It’s all pretty convoluted and not a true comparison to what’s going on that you’re even confusing yourself a little. “I think what I mean is that even though they have their different roles, they still feel very similar things and believe in the same purpose. I think that’s like you and Daryl. You two are so similar yet so different. But there’s still a binding force that always brings the two of you together. So, like I’m sure you already know and I didn’t even need to tell you, but you two will be okay. You two have different ways of doing things, but the music or the life you’re trying to create in Alexandria still has the same meaning to the both of you.” You laugh small and breathily as you end. “That probably didn’t make sense.”
Rick smiles to himself. “I didn’t get that first bit, with the quote, but no… that made a lot of sense to me.” He nods toward you and you return his smile. “You’re so bright. You know that? Not everyone knows how to stitch things together like that the way you do.”
This makes you feel good. Rick thought you were smart. You know you should say thank you, but instead, something else comes out: “May I, may I kiss you?”
“Yes,” he answers, almost stuttering it out, a hint of hesitation before he did, but he nods so kindly, so reassuringly as he tells you again: “yes.”
Your fingers touch his lower cheeks lightly, feeling the bristles of his beard. You’re slow, and careful, and scared. Your fingers linger on his jaw for a moment until they completely caress his right cheek and then you move in, swiftly— worried you’ll lose your confidence, worried he’ll change his mind. You catch his lower lip and seal the kiss. Your lips are locked for a few seconds until you retreat. It was nice, and exciting, but short. You knew you could have put your tongue in his mouth. You believe he would have let you because you remember when he did it last time, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself by doing it wrong and once again reminding him how much you don’t know. But you’re sure giving him a grade school kiss like this one was enough of a reminder.
Your eyes roll down, chin low. Your cheeks are on fire and your hands do not know where to go so you start fiddling with the hem of your dress and then you laugh. You were trying to be courageous this time, and you were, but you also weren’t.
Rick grabs your left hand, holding it at the end of your thigh, “I liked that,” he says softly.
“You did?” You ask as softly as he, eyes meeting his.
A short, airy snicker comes out, “Mhm,” he hums, giving you a closed-mouth smile. He found you simply adorable.
“Can I… try it again?”
Rick pulls on your forearm, attempting to bring you closer to him. “Yeah,” he nods, voice gentle. “Do you want me to help?”
You nod before you speak, happily accepting, “Yes.”
He puts your hands on his shoulders. One of his grabs onto your waist and the other holds you lightly under your chin, adjusting your head to meet his lips. The first kiss he places holds just for a couple of moments as the one you gave him did, gentle but packed with longing. The next two are slow, pretty pecks that already have you melting at his touch, lips agape waiting for the next one. The fourth is the one where he brings his tongue into your mouth, carefully bringing it in quarter by quarter. He tastes the top of your mouth and tongue and you feel him as he slowly starts to explore how far you may like to go, but truly you become stagnant other than your hands that press into his shoulder. Luckily, Rick either doesn’t notice your hesitation or is already silently helping you as he takes the lead, pulling you closer by the hips and slipping his tongue in and out of your mouth to kiss you more. It makes you smile— the excitement of your first make-out session. You giggle, and then it makes him smile too and your teeth slightly bump into each other. Accidently you nip his lip because of it, making you pull back.
Your fingers hover over your lips as you impart a quiet apology but Rick just shakes his head giving you another quick kiss instead. He starts to move back on your bed, back pressed again the headboard and he tells you quietly, “Come here.”
You get up and sit higher up on the bed as well, calves folded under your thighs. He takes one of your legs and starts to put it over his as he asks, “Is this okay?”
You nod, vigor growing as you do it now, thrilled to sit on his lap. Your dress bunches around your hips and the tops of your thighs. You move closer to press your chest into his and you kiss him first again, another small one but with intent as you look at him afterward, feeling the scratch of his beard on your fingertips as you smile at him, in awe that this is happening.
“You want to try this time?”
“Uh,” he means you put your tongue in his mouth this time, but you’re afraid to do it wrong but you know you want to say yes so you do, “Yes, okay.”
So he brings you in again and you kiss him. He mouth opens a little and you try to bring your tongue in slightly but you teeth clash. “Sorry,” and quickly he responds that it’s okay and rubs your cheek, telling you to just open your mouth a little wider, no teeth, let your tongue go on top of his.
You try it. Your tongues meet again, licking each other tips before you slowing press in more, your chest touching his as you try to close the gap.
Rick starts slowly rocking your hips against his and he takes control of the kiss again. It helps you not think, you like it. And you like the feeling of that incoming tight bulge starting to form under his jeans, but then you let go. “Wait,” you say, “I like this.” You pause for a moment, confusing him more as to why you stopped. “But… there is something I wanted to ask you.”
“Okay,” his hand stay fixed on your hips and waist, rubbing soothily, “What it is?”
Another pause. “I feel nervous,” you whisper.
“You have no reason to be, sweetheart. You can ask me anything.”
You laugh, smiling as you look off to the side. Anythang.
He smiles too, although unknowingly to what you found funny. His head tilts as he tries to find your gaze and turn it towards him again.
“Well, the last time we were together here you taught me how to do something. You taught me how to pleasure myself better so,” you stutter, “I want to pleasure you. If that’s okay. And I was wondering if you’d teach me how- to touch you here.” You remove yourself from straddling him and point in the direction of his cock.
Instantly he feels a stir of his already hardening dick.
This is not how he expected things to go this time. Or truly, he didn’t expect any of this at all, but when you asked to kiss him he decided he would be gentle, more giving. It felt like you wanted him to take again, the exact thing he was trying not to do. “I feel like I took advantage of you last time.”
“Rick…” you shake your head. “I’m the one who didn’t close the door all the way. You asked if it was okay and then you asked if you could go faster. I said yes to everything…” You start to worry— is he second guessing everything now?—“I feel maybe we remember this differently.” You bow your head again now. Feeling ashamed, wondering if he did.
Rick places one hand on your knee to comfort you although he still says, “It’s just that I’ve never done something like this before.” His thumb sways on your skin. “I just don’t want you to end up feeling like you’re wasting your time. Your first times.”
You’re surprised, “It’s so funny how you can be so self-assured in front of a crowd and now you don’t think you’re good enough.” You take his hand and press it towards your chest. Your heart was racing. “I like you. So much.” You swallow as he says your name softly, realizing how fast your heart was going. “No one in town is truly ever mean to me or anything, and Rosita has been so kind with letting me move in with her and we talk and its nice but, you know— she has her flings and her friendships that are separate from mine and everyone just always seems like they have their person and I just don’t. I don’t have my person, or any person.” You remove your hands from your chest but Rick still holds onto it, squeezing your hand as you start speaking again. “You’re kind, Rick, and you make me excited, and you remember things about me… “ If your face could get any hotter, it does, “And, well, you’re very handsome. If you could teach me again, I would like that.”
God… Rick was trying to be a romantic yet you were so adamant on getting him off. He laughed inwardly, shaking his head, deciding that the best way to handle this situation— and make up for some of his guilt as he was trying to— would be to give you the thing you say you want and not what he thinks you want. Suppose that’s one for widower’s wisdom.
Decidedly, Rick gets up from the bed, giving you a once over, still admiring how adorable, and how sexy, you look to him with your feet under your lap, hands on your knees as you look up at him from the bed and your white dress. He starts undoing his shirt buttons. “Remember when I did this the first time?”
A smirk came on, there’s the Rick you remember. Blue eyes intense, and voice getting cocky as he gets ready to give you what you need, what he knows you only want from him.
“Yes,” you say quiet yet with budding excitement. You start going for the hem of your dress, “Should I start taking this off too?”
“Mm, stay like that.” He’s taking off his belt. “Thought you looked beautiful in it right when I saw you.”
Your thighs squeeze together slightly. Rick Grimes was undressing before you, for you, and calling you smart and beautiful all the while.
As Rick lowers his boxers, his cock springs up. He returns to his spot on the bed, back leaning against the headboard. All of a sudden he seems to truly recognize that he is the only one exposed. He would tell you what to do, guide you, but in a small way, in a way you probably didn’t realize, you were in control. It seems that each time this happens— although it’s only been twice— and each time he talks to you— which has been plenty— you steal a little more of Rick’s heart and he just can’t stop it.
“So,” he clears his throat, your eager eyes on his cock making him twitch, “you usually just wrap your hand around, start from the base and keep pumping up.” He shakes his head, “there’s not too much too it but it’s best to keep your hand light at the start, you—”
You nod quickly, “May I?”
As he nods back you, “Yes.” And as he says it you’re already licking your hand.
“Is it okay if I spit? That helps right? Or is that nasty to you?”
He’s caught off guard, “No, no, that helps.”
So you do and you place your hand lightly at the base as he said and you start to pump. Instantly, he lets out a gasp, and the next noises that follow are repressed grunts and groans. You want to ask him to stop doing that but you’re a little scared to speak up that way just yet and you’re too engrossed in how you can see the light veins of green and blue on him and how he’s so red at the tip. It was honestly exciting. Just this, touching him with your hand, staring at his member and watching him twitch as his mouth opens to pant lightly. It still felt unreal but you liked it and you were happy to learn. You start to pump him more towards the top, placing your thumb on his slit- pressing in. His abs clench at that. You push in a little harder and you squeeze your fist around him a little— testing it out to see what happens—and he groans, unadulterated this time, “oh, fuck.”
The heel of your foot that’s under your lap pushes into your center at that.
You start pumping faster. “Am I doing good, Rick?”
Hearing your voice sets him off, “Fuck, sweetheart. Yes.” He’s honestly choking out each of his words, he didn’t expect to get so turned on by all of this. He realizes the last time he had sex was with you that first time, and before that… he can’t even remember. “You’re doing an amazing job.”
As you pump, you start to slow down, only doing it shallowly towards his base. You’re feeling confident and you kiss the side of him, licking a fat stripe up to the top and then you pump him fully again.
“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he breathes out. He wants to tell you to slow down but it comes out of nowhere, he stutters before he can even speak. An unintelligible groan mixed with a moan comes out abrupt and louder than he intends and white spurts of liquid come out.
You go faster for a few moments, then start to slow down, a little unsure of what is best to do, but you notice when you start squeezing him a little more as you continue to pump up and more whiteness fall out from inside of him.
“Did I, make you come?”
“Yeah,” he says, huffing.
“I did?” your cheekbones rise as you ask with awe— it was another first for the books.
Rick’s tries to let his embarrassment fade, he can tell you were just excited about it, but still, he looks down and to the side, avoiding direct eye contact— almost like you typically would. You peer at him, almost nervously because of it. Rick is usually the confident one. “Doesn’t always happen that fast,” he explains.
“Well before a month ago I didn’t know how to make myself come so I wouldn’t know,” you say with self-deprecating assurance. You had heard from the girls in town that it was easier to make men orgasm. You already had it in your head as something not to judge. You wonder how hard he must have been restraining himself the first time he placed himself inside you, or if it just happened to be easier for him that time around. “I didn’t expect I could do it or anything really. I thought it was…” you smile while giggling, “interesting.”
“A good interesting I hope.”
“Very,” you assure. “I liked it.” You kiss his cheek as you take some wipes that are by your night stand and you start cleaning him up. He doesn’t tell you that you don’t have to; he helps along with you.
“You sure you’ve never done any of this before?”
You shake your head. “I just read fiction books.”
He smiles to himself, a quiet snort of laughter leaving his nose. You always surprise him.
When you two are done cleaning, he puts his boxers back on. Quickly, he is on the bed again and starts to kissing you. Rick holds your shoulder and pushes you down. Finally, it’s time for his redemption, he feels. It was your turn to be pleasured. Just like he wanted to do from the beginning.
Rick kisses down your neck to your collarbone, and the parts of your exposed chest and he pushes your dress up past your hips. His lips move back up to yours, kissing you more before saying, “I really wanna show you something sweetheart.” He presses his thumb into your clit over your underwear. “Can I kiss you down there? Have you ever had that before?”
You shake your head slowly, eyes wide. “I-” you start nodding your head, “-I would really like that.” And in such a small voice you add, “Please.”
Rick kisses your cheek. Deep and softly he breathlessly tells you, “I would love to.”
Rick moves his head lower and gives you slow kisses over your underwear from your mound to the end of your lips. He starts to drag your panties over your legs and once they’re gone he kisses up your thighs. Then his nose rubs and sways ever so lightly on your lips. He breathes in and it makes you shutter. Your heart is going crazy again. Finally, he licks upward. One long and languid stripe ending with a kiss to your clit and then he truly begins.
Tongues are wet and sticky and everything you ever dreamed of. Your eyes roll back instantly from that first lick and kiss. You remember a time when you started touching yourself that you used to never think of receiving oral. You thought it was scary, nasty, that you wouldn’t like it until the moment you thought about it as a million kisses on your most sensitive lips, or someone liking you so much that they’d get drenched by your wetness just to touch you, to taste you. After that, you thought about it all the time and now it was finally happening– someone needing you so much they just had to know what you taste like. Here he was: kissing, licking, sucking, not caring about how he looks but only how you feel— you now knew what it was like to be desired.
Rick presses his tongue flat on your clit, rubbing deep circles. His eyes are open, looking up at how your mouth opens wider and wider. You let out little whimpers, enamored by his tongue, still deciding if you like the scratch of his beard, but your eyes stay glued to the ceiling, scared to look at the scene below.
He gives you kitten licks in between speaking, “Look down. Don’t miss your first time.”
Your eyes go down slowly, watching as he gives open mouth kisses to your clit and right lip, tilting his head. He stays there for a moment, hearing your short and breathy pants, kissing and licking your clit and lower lips like they were the ones above your chin. His eye contact sends bursts of sticky wet fluid down your hole and you release a whimpered moan, they’re always sp short and soft and high pitched. He can tell you like it but he can also see you’re nervous. You don’t trust yourself, you know it, and he’s starting to realize it too. You’re scared of completely letting go.
He peppers kisses to your clit before moving upward, his tongue rolling and mouth kissing from your lower stomach to your breasts till his face reaches yours again. “No one’s here,” he tells you. He then kisses your lips allowing you to taste yourself for the first time. “Relax,” he whispers, rolling out each syllable. He holds your chin with one hand while he inserts a finger into your hole with the other, his pointer is instantly drenched and you shudder at the feeling. His single calloused finger reminds you of the time he was last inside you. He pumps slowly, looking into your eyes as he speaks, “Don’t think about who could come downstairs.”
“What if Rosita or Daryl come back?”
“What if?” He says it so simply as if he’s ready for everyone to know. Truly, that would be an issue, but right now it was not about him and it was completely about you; he wanted to give. It was short-sighted, reckless, yes, but… you were just so pretty, so bright, so insightful, and he felt like he needed to make up for all the taking he did last time, of your first time. Rosita had went to run after Daryl, hopefully no one was here anyway. But again, he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. “Lay back,” he gently commands, “forget what I said before- close your eyes. Just give in to it. Like I’m the only one who's here.”
Rick licks zig zag stripes down your slit and then he decides to insert his tongue in your hole. He goes as deep as his tongue allows, collecting your wetness and trying to swallow it in moments when he turns back to kissing. He his nose is brushing and rubbing up against your clit as he sucks wetness from down below and you start letting out stringy moans you can’t control. Soft, pretty, and continuous, “uh, ah, uh, uh” that turn into “sorry, I’m sorry.” You’re still self-conscious about your own noises. This was still only the second time you’ve heard the sounds you make when someone else is fucking you.
But Rick shushes you. Giving small kisses to your clit as he looks up at you, seeing your scrunched eyes and open mouth. “I like knowing you like it, pretty girl. I like all those pretty sounds you’re making.”
Your pussy tightens around nothing at that phrase.
“Keep going. You don’t have to be shy.” He grabs your chin and you look down at him. His beard is wet. “We’ve already made a mess anyway.”
He starts kissing your labias, licking up wetness when you decide to ask, nervously, “Can you make sounds too?”
Instantly, Rick goes again to kiss your clit, humming into it as he sucks. Breathing against you he says, “Want me to tell you I like it, sweetheart?” His tongue slides down again, tongue reaching into your hole and he moans into your pussy.
Your back arches and you mewl, you could almost scream.
That’s it, he thinks. Rick keeps humming and groaning into you now. His voice is so seductive. “I love tasting your pussy, baby.”
You couldn’t breathe.
Rick starts rubbing your clit with his thumb and going fast with his tongue in your hole “My bright, pretty girl gonna come for me? Hm?”
“Oh, Rick, I want to. Please, Rick.”
Rick starts to go faster and your brain turns to mush. Only noises coming out and when he stops his tongue movements to say something more you push his head down. “Sorry,” you say. You’ve never been forceful before but he says nothing, just continues going down on you and taking his free hand to place it over his, gesturing that he wants your hands in his hair. You tug on his curls and he grunts into you. You start chanting his name and then he switches to placing his lips on your clit and putting two fingers in your pussy. It reminded you of the first time but instead of your three fingers they were two of his and it felt so much better than you ever knew before, better than you could ever do it yourself. It sets you off. Your eyes shut tighter if they could. “Rick! Oh my god,” you moan and then again and again and then you come.
Rick laps at your cunt, vigorously trying to wipe you clean. He makes it look like it will be the last and only time. It makes you worry but at the same time he looks so sexy like that; needy for you even after you finished.
He takes your wipes and cleans his lips before cleaning you up as you did for him. He kisses you thighs and your lips and your cheeks as he continues. “You did such a good job,” he says. “You always do.”
You’re filled with pride at that. “Thank you.” Then worry sets in. You realize how public you’ve made everything. “Did I just ruin your life?”
He laughs while caressing your thigh. That anxious expression of yours that he just got rid of returns after all the work he did.
“I’m gonna check downstairs. Okay? If they’re there, they’re there.” You nod. We already made a mess anyway, you remember him saying. “They might want to start the meeting when I go down so, whatever happens, happens alright? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Your eyes are still nervous, but it’s all too late anyway. “Okay,” you respond.
“Okay,” he says back, kissing you once more. As he dresses himself again, he tells you, “I promise I won’t wait two weeks to see you again.”
“I’d like that.”
“Me too,” he says as a send off and goes into the bathroom to clean his face.
When he reaches the living room, there is no one. Rick is thankful but confused.
As he nears the coffee table there is a sheet of yellow lined legal pad with a talkie next to it.
Call when you’re done, it reads.
“Rosita?” He questions into the device. Who else could it have been, right?
He can almost hear the grin on her face. “They should start calling you Reckless Rick for all the agony you put these Alexandria girls through.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “There’s just something about that stupid hair cowboy accent, I guess.”
Before he can respond, telling her that it’s absurd to think of him as a playboy, that he was far from it, she continues:
“So, fucking my roommate? You’re glad Glenn and Maggie called everyone over to theirs instead. Hershel took his first steps while you were teaching someone else how to take theirs.”
She unpressed the button to suppress her laughter. “Just get over here,” she concludes, putting down the walkie and going back to meet the rest of the group with a perfect poker face. She tells everyone Rick will be here shortly.
Oh, Alexandria’s leader and her new little best friend who has been hearing the townswomen’s fantasies of him for years: Reckless Rick and his reckless romantic girl.
Rosita would give you so much shit for this when she gets home.
#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes x reader smut#rick grimes x fem!reader#rick grimes x female reader#rick grimes x y/n#rick grimes x y/n smut#rick grimes x you#rick grimes smut#rick grimes fic#rick grimes fluff#twd fanfiction#twd smut#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead smut#the walking dead fic#the walking dead fanfic
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୨୧٭˚ You’re reaffirming failure ୨୧∘˚
you’re the one perpetuating a reality you don’t want
୨୧∘˙PART I | why are you so sure you’ve failed?
“i always fall asleep when i try and induce pure consciousness”
“i’ve tried to apply but it doesn’t work”
“i get symptoms then nothing happens”
who’s to say that’s true? your subconscious, the only thing you should be worried about, can’t see or hear that you fell asleep last night, your subconscious mind follows whatever you say.
so if the 3d isn’t real how do you know that “you always fail”, what is your evidence of the fact that you always fall asleep. It’s the 3d, in the 3d you fell asleep and woke up in unfavourable conditions. That’s the only reason you have that assumption. So by complaining and whining you reaffirm the reality where you never induce pure consciousness and that becomes fact.
୨୧˚∘EXAMPLE | The A and B analogy
Let’s say Person A and Person B are trying to induce pure consciousness and in the 3D they both fall asleep
- PERSON A goes on tumblr and likes and reblogs self deprecating posts about how they never manage to induce pure consciousness and they hate themselves for falling asleep. They go and complain to bloggers in DMs and asks
“I’ve been standing firm and applying and i just fall asleep”
“i have school/work resuming soon and if this keeps happening i won’t manifest my dream life and im gonna be so upset”
when they say that, they are correct
- PERSON B chooses not to let it get to them. They stand even firmer
“what are you even talking about, i’m a master at inducing pure consciousness and never fall asleep, i have my dream life im so happy”
“i’m not worried about circumstances hitting me, matter of fact, what circumstances, im a god when i say i have my dream life, i have it!!”
when they say that, they are also correct
- And with common sense, you can tell me who is going to induce pure consciousness and manifest their dream life and who is going to be keeping loablr warm till 2030
∘˚୨୧PART II | watch what you’re saying
what your subconscious can’t see won’t hurt it
what your subconscious can’t see won’t affect anything
so last night where you supposedly “fell asleep” doesn’t have to be true if you say it isn’t
seeing the 3D as solid proof is where you go wrong
why is the 3D your reference point?
You are “I AM” whether in the state of pure consciousness or not. You can have everything now if you just decide, don’t let the 3D, which is only a mirror, brake your mind
your subconscious mind only knows what you feed it, your 4D only consists of what you feed it. Your reality only produces what you feed it.
So stop saying you always fall asleep, you don’t.
Stop saying you hate waking up in your unfavourable circumstances, you don’t.
Stop saying all you get is symptoms, you induce whenever you feel like it, it’s first nature to you.
Some of you are perpetuating, solidifying and affirming that you fail, it’s like you’ve given yourself a horrible fate already. Why?
🫐🍨 flip your thoughts, it’s all you need to do for that success story
#salemlunaa#shiftblr#reality shifting#shifting#loa#permashifting#void state#law of assumption#success story#the void#void concept#respawning#i am state#pure consciousness#shifting awareness#shifting consciousness#void state tips#void#voidstate#the void state#god state#loablr#loa tumblr#desired life#desired reality
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𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || 𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠-𝐖𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2f6a3b4c5674dbeff4d1679aa655cdc1/f52289db4c41447a-fc/s540x810/1e8e38f5b781440299f3c41fc0b8a3a469b9cd7f.jpg)
part one: here // part two: kiss away
summary_ amidst studying in Korea and having an ordinary life, you fall in love with a wealthy man, but turns out he had too many secrets, for example, being married.
warnings_ age gap (not specified but reader is in uni), implied sex, cheating, fluff, angst, jeong-won is still tormented but it’s truly happy with reader, reader wants to be a teacher and is implied to be American, NO PROOFREAD YET
notes_ pls listen to angel of satisfaction is such a banger 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋♬⋆. Using the salesman tag bc we need to avoid the flop okay?
♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 gong yoo
✰ Index (+ fics here)
୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ———୨ৎ───୨ৎ
In his arms, you felt safe.
With his kisses, you felt cherished.
The man who urgently smashed his lips with yours in the middle of the dance floor while music blasted from the speakers was the love of your life.
He couldn’t resist the temptation. Couldn’t miss the chance and needed to let you know he always loved you. That everything was true.
“Please, believe me…” he pleaded.
“Fuck you, Jeong-Won”
Frivolously, you leave the taste of poison on his lips. His hand tried to grab yours, but you slipped, leaving him.
Like you had already done before.
But it didn’t make it easier, because tears started falling down the first step out of the club.
And in the middle of the cold night, you slip into your coat and start a quiet walk towards home.
You wished you knew he was mourning a life he had before you.
…
[eight months ago]
Leaving your comfort zone was something you hated. But as soon as you grasped the change, you easily adapted to it.
For a couple of months, surviving all alone in South Korea seemed like it would never cease to feel like a struggle. But you were patient enough to make friends, move out of the dorms of university, and find a home in the wealthy godmother of yours who let you stay at an apartment she had.
Her kindness was so big that she even arranged a full remodeling project that lasted months.
And it was one of those weekends when you finished early your assignments and essays that a plan popped out. Working as a counselor assistant did little to support you financially but the aid from your home government was a good complement. Hence why you couldn’t refuse a night out with your friends; Jade, Ruby, and Seoun-mi.
“Can you pass me the highlighter?” Asks your blonde friend Ruby. It was Seoun-mi who passed her the shiny compact while rolling her eyes. “You already used it, Ruby”
“It’s not enough” You start laughing and Jade joins you.
“Don’t you girls think my dress is a little too much?” You ask pointing at the bright orange dress with scattered sequins hanging from your door. “Do you want to meet guys?”
“God no” you reply to Jade, shaking your head.
“Then wear black tights and some fitted boots” Ruby suggests, which comforts you enough to agree.
“The club we’re going to is not popular with foreigners or students. Boys won’t hit on us” Seoun-mi states, putting on her kneels.
“Good” you affirm. “I’m not in the mood for men”
…
Even with the lights out and neon flashes flying all over the place, your orange dress was making a statement. But in the company of your friends, you weren’t paying attention. A Nelly Furtado song from the 2000s was playing when Ruby complained she wanted some vodka. It was you who offered to ask for it.
And it was then when Han Jeong-Won was coming out of the restroom after smoking a cigarette. He had been deep into shit in that same place months ago, barely conscious and fighting a man. But now, he was at the club, along with the mere purpose of disconnecting from his life for a little while.
The crowd only swayed along to the music, Jeong-Won seated at the bar, but he couldn’t help but notice you were the only person actually dancing, it made him stare longer. Until he caught himself eyeing you up and down.
Definitely foreigner; lousy, careless but refined.
It was such a big coincidence that you walked towards him when the song was over. He heard you laughing at something your friends said in the distance. Fluid English coming out of your mouth.
“Hi! Any vodka or tequila?” You don’t look at the man beside you, his elbow almost touching your ribs. “Just vodka. Bottle or ?….”
“The bottle is fine” you confidently say, the bartender nods and disappears to get your wish.
“Fun Saturday?” The man beside you asked. You turned to eye him, surprised to hear his English was very good. And of course, his attractiveness didn’t pass unnoticed by you.
“I guess so…” you say nodding. “Hey, your English is really good”
“It was a requirement in university” his voice was deep, and even in the middle of the chaos of the club, you could hear him perfectly well. “I wasn’t very good at the beginning”
“Oh, so are you done with your career?” He nodded, drinking from his glass, which seemed to be something like a mojito. “Music engineer”
“You produce? Show me something you’ve done, I love music. There is no day without me playing music…” he chuckles and you realize you were flirting, almost making you freeze. “I do produce actually. But what about you?”
“I’m trying to get into the educational department. I really like to write. So University counselor or professor will be fine…” he nods, hiding his surprise and awe.
“That’s really nice…” his fingers twirl around the straw of his drink, a little smirk in the corner of his lips. “Maybe you can show me your writings one day…”
Your smile grows playful, accepting the fact that he is also flirting with you.
“Isn’t it that I’m a little too young for you?”
“We’re just talking”
“You’re right, my bad…” both of you laugh.
The bartender ruined the moment, he handed you the bottle and you handed back a bill. You offer the mystery man a last glance before turning to leave.
“Hey!” You turn to see him. “I didn’t get your name or anything…”
“If it’s meant to be, we’ll meet again!” you say smiling before disappearing into the crowd of people dancing.
Jeong-won remained there seated, smiling as he finished his drink. And at that moment he realized how much he had smiled in the short span of less than ten minutes.
…
The sound of your stomach growling made your steps hurry up, almost jogging down the street. You arrived at a burger shop, eager to order.
“Just no cheese and no onion please” the girl nods, handing you your receipt and your cup. “Thanks”
As your order awaits, you pick diet cherry vanilla coke from the soda fountain. You hear your number and after grabbing your bag, you are ready to eat outside because the weather is nice. Your receipt falls and when you’re about to pick it up, a big hand does it for you.
It’s him.
“So it was meant to be?….” He asks as soon as he notices it’s you as well. You smile briefly, before feeling your cheeks are heating up. “Apparently…”
He was wearing a sweatshirt and some jacket, jeans, and random sneakers. He was very handsome. With the help of the daylight, you can see he’s older than you. But he’s still gorgeous.
“Where are your friends?” You roll your eyes playfully. “They have classes today”
“And you don’t?” He had also picked up his order and looked tired. “No, I always avoid classes on Fridays or the weekends”
“Ah, smart girl” he sounds so perfect, too nice and calm.
“So, any plans? Or you wanted to eat alone?”
“Well, I planned to eat outside and then take the sub to a mall. I need some new clothes…” Still holding his bag or food, he nodded.
“I’ll propose you something…”
“Uh huh?” He nods again, chuckling.
“You eat with me inside and I take you to the mall” Finally your cheeks heat up completely and he notices.
“Dude, I don’t even know your name” both of you start laughing.
“Han Jeong-Won”
“I’m y/n”
Both of you smile and then you offer your hand for him to shake. Which he considers so occidental, but agrees to do so.
And once again, he noticed how much he was smiling and forgetting about some details of his life.
…
An hour and a half later, you know more about his job, but mostly he asked about you, which made you feel like he wasn’t trying to show off. Or he could be hiding something but he was very chill and kind. After finishing your food, both of you walk outside.
“Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me,” you say chuckling, abruptly stopping at the parking lot.
Jeong-won owned a grey Hennessey Venom F5 and was proudly standing beside the driver’s door.
“This is too much for me” he starts laughing.
“Stop trying to sound humble”
“But I am!” You reply also laughing. “I like some expensive stuff but mostly I find this very ostentatious”
“But it’s pretty, isn’t it?” his smirk makes you roll your eyes and look away, smiling.
“Oh, sure it is…” he walks over and opens the passenger seat for you, gentlemanly inviting you to sit.
“Only pretty girls get to sit here”
“That’s so tacky” Both of you start laughing again. But you finally take a seat and he closes the door.
All the way to the mall he showed you some of the music he produced. Jeong-Won was a serious man, but in the 24 hours you had met him, he was always able to offer you a smile or laugh. His phone continuously rang and you urged him to answer but he said it wasn’t important.
If only you had been able to see the screen…
…
Jeong-won followed you through the candle store, pretending to be attracted to some of the bright bottles with wax and odors but the truth was that he only wanted to listen to you.
“And I don’t like fish. Ahi tuna is fine but it’s mostly raw so…”
“You prefer meat?”
“If it was on me, I would gladly eat purely tofu. But I really like burgers and steaks” you admit giggling.
Your heart continuously beating made you accept you really liked the man beside you. He had made you feel so comfortable and welcome since you met him.
“Oh, I can cook you a steak with vegetables, it’s one of the few dishes I enjoy doing myself” Your cheeks blushed again at his statement. Was he inviting you to meet again?
“But you said you don’t eat at home” you object, deciding on a cardamom candle and going straight to pay.
“I can make exceptions” Once again you meet his smile and it makes you feel delusional. The intrusive thought of anticipating him as the one merging.
“And I will make tofu appetizers” It was on purpose your mocking tone. Just in case Jeong-won never meant to invite you on a date.
“Next Friday. My place. Casual dinner…” he offers, leaning on the counter as you pay your candle. “What do you say?”
“Alright,” his proud smile makes you roll your eyes at him before grabbing your bags and exiting the store.
You think it’s time to tell your friends about him.
…
“NO WAY! The hot dude we saw you talking to at the club?” Jade screams through the video call. You start laughing and nodding.
Everyone one of your friends is shocked.
“We met at the burger shop and then he took me to the mall and there he literally went shopping with me and at the end invited me to have dinner at his place next Friday” Everyone starts yelling and cheering, making it harder for you to believe that you pulled up a hot man like Han Jeong-won.
“Baby, we’re coming tomorrow and we won’t leave until you have an appointment made for your hair and a waxing,” Ruby tells you and it makes you burst laughing.
“Actually that would be nice. And please stay over, you can practically move in with me if you want”
“We can’t move in when you’re one step away from getting a boyfriend, unnie” says Seoun-mi, which makes everyone burst laughing again.
…
The house was ridiculously clean and big. Jeong-won kept his promise and cooked a steak with vegetables. Your tofu was also gone, he let you pick a glass of wine from the floor below and there he kissed you.
“Isn’t it that I’m a little too young for you?” You repeated what you said the night you met him at the club, Jeong-won chuckled, still holding your waist. “You are, but… I feel very comfortable when I’m with you”
You smile, feeling your heart flutter in love. He was so adorable and sweet, only a gentleman to you since you met him.
“I feel the same way about you” In the dark wine cellar of the house, you barely can see the features of Jeong-won, his hair looks even darker than it is and he had to slightly bend over to face you.
Which led to having a dinner full of teasing, leading to you kissing him in his lap upstairs with the TV on in the background.
“We can stop if you want…” he whispers in your mouth. But it’s too fucking late.
You can feel how hard he is, you can feel your panties are growing wet.
“It’s okay, I want you…” He throws his head back when you grind against him. And it’s oddly beautiful how you’d never considered a man so pretty like him.
“Keep moving like that…” he says barely able to talk properly. That makes you feel confident and sexy.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty, darling…” you moan on his lips, knowing it’s over once he takes out his cock and puts aside your panties.
“Jeong-won!” you moan his name, repeating it like a mantra over and over again.
You can’t believe how good things are going. So good that you are blinded enough to miss the red flags.
…
Four months together. He didn’t know how it happened. Six months ago he married Noh In-ji just to please his ex-wife. His cheating was not in the plans. You weren’t meant to appear in his life.
Jeong-won never considered age gaps romantic. His parents had one and it didn’t go well, let alone the other problems he had to witness as a kid. In fact, he thought you were pretty but he was only being friendly when you ended up by his side that night at the club.
But he started to feel very comfortable as you talked to him. He didn’t feel the need to oppress his feelings as usual. He allowed himself to smile, laugh, and be talkative.
Jeong-won felt alive.
Whenever you were around he was able to forget about his ex-wife, the baby, his pain, and dealing with his difficult new wife.
Just when he was so close to falling for In-ji.
Your voice singing caught him in his inner thoughts and briefly eyed you taking pictures of the landscape as he drove through the empty highway.
Jeong-won returned his attention to the highly and smiled.
“You should autotune my voice, honey. I know I am no singer” you admit smirking at him before looking away.
“Actually you sound fine…” The small he offers you is sweet and makes you want to lean and kiss him deeply. But he’s driving you to a lake he loved to go to in his free time to fish and just pass the time.
“Bullshit. But I’ll take the compliment” he chuckles, showing you his right dimple from the view of his profile. “Whatever. Tell me about the lake”
“I used to go there a lot since I was a teenager. Whenever things got rough at home, I went there to… forget about it” his uncomfortable tone made you seize your smile. He told you about his parents and his harsh infancy. You couldn’t blame him.
“It’s different now. I go there with my boss, who’s also my friend. And now I’m taking you there… only good times now. I promise”
He also took In-ji to the lake once. Jeong-won desperately pleaded for the right moment to tell you the truth. He had two months left of marriage. His ex-wife still haunted him a little but he was comfortable after pushing her away. There was a lunatic after In-ji but since she didn’t want him to be nosy about it, he found more than comfort in you.
“We’re here!” You squeal excitedly, making him smile at the sight.
Once he parks the car, you get out to appreciate the view. Jeong-won has been there so many times that the only beauty he sees is you.
In sneakers, jeans, sweater, coat, and camera in hand. You look so ordinary, yet so perfect to his eyes. You were the woman he really wanted to call his partner.
That didn’t mean Jeong-won didn’t feel so terrible for lying to you. For also lying to In-ji and getting away with it.
“JEONG-WON! HURRY UP, HONEY!” You yell, noticing he got lost in his head. You wonder what was he thinking. But you soon forget as he gives you one of his cutest smiles.
He starts literally jogging towards you, making you laugh, urging you to run so he can catch you.
The adrenaline flows when he starts running behind you. All you can feel is peace and joy. The man that catches you in his arms is your boyfriend.
“Got you, sweetheart,” he says in your ear, making you blush as he spins you to lean and kiss you.
His lips were soft despite his rough appearance. Jeong-won in general was so sweet, touch deprived and you were the one who broke those barriers.
He’s all you never knew you wanted and someone you weren’t waiting for…
“I love you” you admit confidently. He smirks, tilting his head.
“Me too” he admits to his own surprise.
He knows there’s no way back.
…
Periwinkle was one of your least favorite colors. But you loved how a dress of that color fitted you with grey tights and heels, a grey coat covering you as well as you entered the fancy restaurant. Jeong-won insisted that you two had to celebrate your achievement of passing every midterm of the semester.
“I’ll get the squash blossom soup” you order after your boyfriend and once the waitress leaves, it’s just you and him.
“You always look pretty, but I really think you look lovely tonight, darling…” Your face burns and you shyly smile, hiding your face behind your glass of wine.
“Ah ah, don’t hide from me! I’m being serious” he says chuckling, trying to move the glass away. “It doesn’t match the necklace, but it’s okay”
“I don’t care. I love the necklace and I’ll wear it every single day. Even if it doesn’t match…”
He gifted you a Tiffany gold necklace with a heart pendant. You were embarrassed but enamored by it. He shushed your attempts to politely reject the gift by burying his face between your legs. It left you with no choice but to place the necklace around your neck and admire it in a nearby mirror as you rode him at your apartment.
Luckily Seoun-mi made you an appointment at a public hospital to get your birth control.
When you least expect it, you already finishing your squash blossom soup. Jeong-won is nearly done with his plate and both of you are laughing because he almost spilled the wine.
The solid proof of Jeong-won feeling head over heels for you is evident when all he can focus on is your face.
Although there are no wrinkles in your face yet, some appear around your eyes as you keep laughing. He smiles, ignoring all of his surroundings, miserably ignoring the approaching figure coming to the table.
Everything is perfect until you spot a beige coat, your laughs suddenly stopping as you look up to encounter a woman.
Fear starts creeping up as you notice how Jeong-won also stops smiling, only to lock his eyes with the woman before she turns her head to scan you.
She’s young, maybe a little older than you, like your boyfriend. But she’s very pretty and elegant. But her cold demeanor makes you uncomfortable, the feeling doesn’t abandon you as she looks away from you.
“You didn’t tell me you were having dinner out, sweetheart” she speaks to him in Korean, offering a cold and feigned smile.
You are no fool, quickly thinking the worst. Hoping it’s a mistake.
“In-ji…” he reveals the woman’s name and sounds almost like he’s begging. But you don’t know what.
“I’m sorry, What is happening?” you dare to ask, making both of them turn to look at you.
“I’m Han Jeong-Won’s wife”
Color leaves your face, your stomach awkwardly churns and your hands start to shake, getting on your nerves.
How did Jeong-won hide it so well?
Why? Why? Why? Why?
“Earlier, your phone call accidentally linked to the car I borrowed” the woman reveals, but nobody says anything.
But you know it’s time to go…
Embarrassment floods you, making you a mess of yourself. Your cheeks burn so bad that your face looks red as a beet, you can feel your heart racing and your hands keep shaking as much as you try to calm yourself.
You stand up from the table, hurrying to grab your coat and purse.
“Please, y/n…” you hear Jeong-won calling you, but you don’t even look at him.
“The least you can do is pay for my dinner and beg on your knees for forgiveness to your wife…” you spit out, unable to look at any of them or the nosy people having dinner in the place.
The unwanted attention makes you sick. Only worsening the moment.
The couple stares at you, noticing that even when you were walking away, it was obvious that you started crying and you tried to wipe the tears away.
In-ji almost felt bad for you. Despite looking young and careless, you seemed mature enough. She expected to argue, but she ended up surprised to see you only left and eyed her with evident apologies.
“I deserve an explanation,” she says once you’re finally out of their sight.
“Yeah, you do…” Jeong-won admits, sighing after handing his card to pay the check.
He would pay for your dinner but he would not beg for forgiveness to his wife.
“Why did you do this?” In-ji asks as both leave the restaurant.
She’s certainly jealous but hides it so well. And more than that, she is curious.
“When I’m with her, I don’t feel tormented. I can be myself with no restrains…” he says, looking tired, beat down by the situation, but he briefly smiled at the tons of memories he had made with you.
“Did you ever feel that way with me?” Suddenly In-ji felt nervous, but she had to know.
“I did” After some silence, Jeong-won adds “I was so close to falling for you, but you proved to me we could never trust each other completely”
“That’s not true”
“She picked you well and was right. I will never match…”
That breaks her heart. Knowing damn well what he meant.
Her eyes get teary but feels confident to throw the next question.
“Do you love her, Jeong-won?”
“I love her”
She nods, watching him walk away towards his car.
The ex-wife, the wife, and the girlfriend…
Get a fucking grip, man. Get your shit together, Jeong-won thought.
A disastrous marriage, a fake one, and a healthy relationship.
From three totally different relationships, only one had made him feel safe and comfortable.
It was yours and his name that he wanted to see and hear together.
He was the perfect boyfriend but a shit of a person. And of course, you didn’t deserve that.
You deserved his pleas. And so you would get them.
୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ———୨ৎ───୨ৎ
Part two or what?
taglist: @stargirl-mayaa @czarinera @dovediva @dreamersparacosm @girlythings111 @love2fangirl @migueloharassoulmate @fangirl4lifetime @wonallofme @otakusimp1
#gong yoo x reader#gong yoo#the trunk#han jeong won x reader#han jeong won#the salesman x reader#the salesman#the recruiter#recruiter x reader
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Circus Boy
Directly inspired by @erinwantstowrite 's art!!! post
Request from awesome amazing cool Anon
Over the years, circuses have lost their spark.
Dick would know— he’d literally grown up in one. Back then, the circus was a symphony of effort and artistry. Weeks, sometimes months, were spent perfecting routines. Performances were designed to dazzle, to inspire awe, no matter the country or culture of the audience. The comedy sketches weren’t just filler— they were genuinely funny, capable of drawing laughter even from the most reluctant parent dragged along by an excited child. Every act had a rhythm, a purpose, and above all, passion. The performers took pride in their craft, and the audience responded in kind, feeding off the energy, cheering and clapping until their hands were raw and their throats sore.
Now? Now they were dull. Predictable routines recycled ad nauseam. Costumes that looked like they were bought in bulk from a clearance rack. Tents and stages slapped together with the barest effort to resemble grandeur. The magic, the joy—the soul of it all—had been replaced with a singular, glaring goal: profit. No one cared if the audience laughed, gasped, or even paid attention, so long as they paid their entrance fees.
But recently, whispers of something different had started making waves in Gotham: a circus gaining a reputation for being... well, different.
Dick’s curiosity was piqued. He hadn’t planned to go, at first. But the memories of his youth, of what the circus used to mean, stirred within him. Before he knew it, he’d wrangled (read: blackmailed) together as much of the family as he could to go see it. Which, wasn’t a whole lot considering quite a few were out of state currently, but it was enough to make him smile.
“Why must I come along? I do not see the point,” Damian groused, arms folded tightly across his chest as the group approached the circus grounds. Despite his protests, he made no move to make a stealthy exit.
“You’re coming because it’ll be good for you,” Dick said, ruffling Damian’s hair just to annoy him. Damian promptly swatted his hand away, glaring daggers at his adoptive brother.
“You don’t even know if it’ll be good,” Tim chimed in, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “What if this thing is as boring as all the other ones you’ve complained about?”
“Then we’ll all get funnel cake and call it a night,” Stephanie said brightly, making it clear where her true excitement lay. “I’m in it for the food, anyway.”
Dick pouted. “You didn’t have to say the quiet part out loud!”
“Don’t underestimate funnel cake,” Duke added with a smirk. “It might be the only thing saving this trip if the show’s a flop.”
Dick rolled his eyes, but his grin didn’t waver. “You’re all so cynical. Just... trust me, okay? I have a feeling about this one.”
Sure, a lot of the decorations seemed cheap thus far, but Dick can’t blame them. They’re clearly low budget, with only two shows a week, versus the seven to ten a week Dick was used to. The difference was the genuine passion and excitement in the eyes of the performers. And they were just doing pre-show stunts on the street to rouse excitement!
Tim hummed thoughtfully. “This place has been gaining rapid popularity,” he said, the subtle edge in his tone making it clear he was already analyzing every detail. Dick saw his fingers twitch as if to take a picture.
Dick glanced over at him but didn’t comment. He recognized that tone— Tim was in detective mode, quietly piecing together threads no one else could see yet. He did, however, take the opportunity at his siblings' distraction to subtly herd them in the direction of the tents, eager to get a good front-row seat. Damian noticed, but he didn’t do much more than roll his eyes.
Steph, however, rolled her eyes dramatically. At Tim, not Dick. “Can you just enjoy one thing without looking for a criminal conspiracy, Tim?”
Tim matched her with a roll of his own eyes, the two slipping into a bickering match that’d put an old married couple to shame if they weren’t so aggressively gay. Meanwhile, Dick let his attention wander to the stage, studying the equipment with the practiced eye of someone who’d lived this life.
Suspended high above was the trapeze rig, its bars wrapped in worn leather, the steel cables taut and secured to thick iron frames. The safety net below, while a little faded, looked sturdy enough to do its job. Not brand-new, but serviceable.
To one side, a highwire stretched across a dizzying height, its slim cable shimmering faintly under the tent lights. The rigging showed some signs of age— slightly dulled bolts and scuffed counterweights—but nothing that made Dick worry. It would hold, even if the daredevil walking it would need nerves of steel.
A teeterboard sat center stage on the ground, its spring mechanism ready to launch performers into flips and vaults. Nearby, a stack of brightly painted crates and barrels hinted at comedic skits. Clowns would probably tumble over them with exaggerated flair, while a sturdy seesaw-like prop suggested slapstick gags involving plenty of unintentional (and intentional) falls.
The whole setup had a charming scrappiness to it. The equipment could use a little TLC, sure, but Dick had no doubt it would hold up under pressure. He could tell the performers had put their trust in it, and that meant something.
For a moment, Dick felt a flicker of nostalgia. The way the crew moved, the crisp efficiency with which they handled the gear— it reminded him of home, of the way his parents had always treated the stage with reverence, as though it were sacred ground.
“Do you see how high that wire is?” Duke muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and apprehension as he followed Dick’s gaze.
“I see it,” Dick replied softly, his heart tightening. He couldn’t help but wonder who had the guts to walk that cable, let alone pull off any stunts on it. He’d definitely have to stick around and chat them up, maybe have a little friendly competition.
“Awe, man,” Duke sighed, visibly disappointed. “Guess we weren’t excited enough.”
Turns out “early” wasn’t early enough because the seating area was packed. The whole first three rows were aggressively claimed, forcing the group to settle for seats in the middle of the fourth row.
Steph and Duke promptly excused themselves to grab popcorn—or, more accurately, for Steph to scout for funnel cake. Dick had to respect the consistency.
Damian glanced at Dick, then at Tim with a withering look. “Drake, cease your ramblings. They sour my mood.”
Tim blinked, clearly taken aback. “Wait, just me? Steph was talking way more!”
Steph, who had been halfway out of earshot, whirled around with mock offense. “Excuse me? I wasn’t the one turning this into an episode of ‘True Crime: Circus Edition.’”
“Yeah, because you’re too busy planning how to steal funnel cake from children,” Tim shot back, crossing his arms. Damian’s eyebrow twitched. Dick wondered why peace was but a mere illusion.
“Oh, please,” Steph quipped. “You’d be the kid I steal it from, Drake.”
Before Tim could come up with a retort, and Damian became a convicted felon, the lights dimmed, cutting their bickering short. A hush fell over the crowd as the familiar low hum of a drumroll began to build.
The ringmaster strode into the center of the stage, clad in a dazzling coat of crimson and gold that shimmered under the spotlight. If you looked any closer than that, you’d see how tacky and cheap it was. His booming voice carried effortlessly across the tent.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls! Welcome to a night of wonder, daring, and delight!” the ringmaster announced, his voice ringing through the tent as the steady drumroll built the tension. “Prepare yourselves for the extraordinary, the astonishing, the absolutely unbelievable! The show begins... now!”
The drumroll reached its peak, and with a dramatic flourish, the spotlight swept upward to reveal the first performer perched high above the stage. A man in a sparkling gold costume waved grandly to the crowd before swinging onto the trapeze. The audience clapped politely as he performed a few rudimentary tricks— basic flips and graceful swings that showcased control but lacked flair.
Two more performers joined him, each clad in similar glittering costumes. They moved with confidence, transitioning through formations and passing between trapezes, but the moves were predictable and lacked the edge Dick was hoping to see. Certainly, nothing that would make this rinky-dink circus as popular as it got so quickly.
Tim leaned toward Dick, his tone flat. “You dragged us here for this?”
“Underwhelming,” Damian muttered, his expression neutral but his tone sharp.
Dick didn’t respond immediately, though he couldn’t disagree. The tricks were technically fine— safe, practiced, polished— but there was no spark, no passion. No magic. He resigned to going home disappointed and also to the inevitable flaming via siblings.
But then, just as one of the performers finished an awkward landing on the platform, the ringmaster’s voice boomed again.
“And now, prepare yourselves for the prodigy of the skies, the one and only Amazing Arach-Kid!”
The spotlight shifted upward again, revealing a much smaller figure poised on a separate platform, high above the others. It was a boy— young and wiry, dressed in sleek crimson and black, his face obscured by a half-mask (not dissimilar to their domino masks, actually) that glimmered faintly in the light. For a moment, the crowd was silent, uncertain what to expect.
Without warning, the boy leaped.
The gasp from the audience was audible as the kid— Arach-Kid?— launched himself into a dramatic triple flip, his body twisting gracefully through the air before he caught the trapeze with flawless precision. The crowd erupted into applause, the energy in the tent shifting instantly.
He didn’t stop there. Swinging with a force that sent his trapeze soaring higher than any of the others had dared, he released at the peak of his arc and spun into a double somersault. Instead of catching the next trapeze, he landed neatly in the arms of one of the adult performers, who looked genuinely startled by the boy’s precision. He grinned, waving excitedly at the audience as they roared with applause.
From there, the routine transformed. Arach-Kid became the centerpiece of the act, seamlessly incorporating daring flips, twists, and transitions between trapezes. He was passed between the adults with perfect timing, their previous mediocrity eclipsed by his sheer skill and energy.
“Whoa,” Duke murmured, leaning forward in his seat. “He’s... good.”
“Who is that kid?” Tim asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
“Better than the rest of them combined,” Damian said bluntly, though his tone carried the faintest hint of approval.
The boy ended his routine with a jaw-dropping quadruple somersault, catching the final trapeze one-handed and hanging upside down with effortless control. Gasps and cheers erupted from the audience, their applause thunderous as he let himself swing for a moment, letting the crowd bask in his daring. Then, with a fluid motion, he swung back, releasing the trapeze bar for one final flourish.
Dick leaned forward, his breath catching as the kid’s body twisted into the unmistakable maneuver— the signature move of the Flying Graysons.
The crowd roared as he executed the technique perfectly, his form flawless, his timing impeccable. He landed with a clean dismount, arms raised triumphantly, and offered the crowd a playful bow before darting off to the wings. Even with the stage empty, shouts and applause echoed for a long time after the boy left.
For a moment, Dick couldn’t move. His stomach churned as memories of his parents on that same trapeze flooded his mind. No one else knew that move. No one could. His parents had created it, and Dick had learned it from them. It was their legacy— his legacy.
So how, in the name of all that made sense, did this random kid just pull it off perfectly?
The lights shifted again, smoothly transitioning to the next act: a somewhat clumsy but undeniably entertaining tightrope routine. One performer started with a wobbling walk, arms flailing for comedic effect. Another joined, balancing precariously with a broomstick for support. The final performer added a unicycle to the mix, pedaling shakily across the thin wire as the audience laughed and clapped in delight.
It was… objectively funny.
But Dick barely noticed. His good mood had evaporated, replaced by a heavy knot of unease in his chest. At this point, they must have a hive mind with how they immediately filed out of the tent without a single word exchanged.
“That was—” Tim started, breaking the tense silence.
“Dick,” Steph interrupted, her voice low, “did he just—?”
“That was your move,” Tim finished firmly, his eyes locked on Dick’s.
“It’s not possible,” Duke added, glancing at the now-empty trapeze rig. “Right? It’s your family’s thing. There’s no way some random kid from Gotham knows it.”
“I am more concerned with how he knows it,” Damian said, his voice cutting. His eyes darted to Dick. “This is your domain, Richard. You must have answers.”
Dick didn’t respond right away. He couldn’t. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his breathing shallow. In disbelief, he muttered, “I don’t.”
Steph frowned. “Okay, well... what do we do? Do we just ignore the fact that some kid pulled off your impossible secret family move?”
“No,” Dick said sharply, his voice colder than any of them expected. “We don’t ignore it. We find out who he is, how he learned it, and what the hell is going on.”
Tim’s brow furrowed. “Do you think someone’s trying to get your attention? Like, deliberately?”
Dick shook his head, though his face betrayed his uncertainty. “I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, it’s... it’s possible, but...” He exhaled through his nose, frustrated. “I need answers. This isn’t something you just pick up on YouTube.”
The group left the small but packed circus, their earlier excitement replaced by a shared tension. The cool night air did little to clear their heads as they walked in a tight huddle, glancing over their shoulders as if the boy would materialize out of the crowd.
“Something’s not right,” Tim said, breaking the silence.
“Obviously,” Damian muttered.
“I mean it,” Tim snapped. “Moves like that— you don’t just do them. It takes years to learn without a teacher.” He glanced at Dick. “You’re sure no one outside your family knew it? Like, absolutely sure?”
“Positive,” Dick said firmly. “The only people who knew it are gone. Except me.” His voice dropped as he added, “Or at least, they’re supposed to be.”
The group exchanged uneasy looks, about both the situation and Dick’s reaction to it. It takes quite a bit to rattle him, so to see him, well, rattled was weird. Beyond weird. It was downright wrong.
“Either way,” Duke said cautiously, “we’re going to figure this out. Right?”
“Oh, we will,” Dick said, his voice grim. “We don’t leave things like this unanswered.”
As they disappeared into the Gotham night, paranoia settled over them like a second skin. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t going to stay a mystery for long.
#i scrolled for days to find that specific post it was buried#i hope you like this too anon!!! sorry it took forever to write ://#fought the urge to title this circus baby valiantly someone give me a gold star pls#accidentally wrote dick angry but like. how else would he realistically react fr#the batkids immediately went home and told dad btw#spiderman in gotham#peter parker in gotham#peter in gotham#spiderman gotham#spiderman x dc#spiderman#peter parker#dc#batman#batfam#dick grayson#tim drake#stephanie brown#duke thomas#damian wayne#dick grayson is richard parker#ficlet#anon request#anon answered#i love you anon#arach-kid is objectively an adorable hero name#awhoreintheory#erinwantstowrite#fanfic#my writing
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For my lovely anon from this request: "jealous!reader if james was to be flirted with? and like how james would react to it."
Hope you enjoy it!!
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"Who does she think she is?" you asked to no one in particular, you eyes trained on the hand of some bimbo who obviously doesn't understand personal space.
You had been looking for your boyfriend, wondering what had been taking so long, only to find him... preoccupied.
Sirius is the first to notice the look you're sending across the room "Uh oh" he lets out causing the others to turn to you "Someone's jealous"
Your brows furrowed together as you tore your eyes away to look at him. "Who me?" you say baffled "Why would I be jealous? I am perfectly fine" you scoffed
"Your drink would say otherwise" Marlene smirks eyeing the crumpled cup in your hand.
Your eyes widen dropping the cup on the table next to you. "Shut up" you mumble.
Lily rolls her eyes "No need to be jealous, sweetheart. Everyone knows he's yours, practically walks around with 'property of y/n' stamped on him"
"Listen here, Red" you start "I'm not jealous, got it?" you say pouring yourself another drink
Jealous pfft why would you be jealous? You are in a perfectly secure relationship with the most loyal man in the world, how could you be jealous?
The others brows raise in response, "Surrre you're not" Remus says taking a puff of his cigarette.
"I'm not! Who would I be jealous of huh? Blondie over there? The one who's been eyeing James from across the room the whole time? The one who had his quidditch number on her cheek during the game? The daft, dense, mindless little tart who is currently trying to make a move on my boyfriend" you let out with a sarcastic smile "Puhlease, I am totally unbothered"
"Riiight" Sirius is the first to speak the rest looking at you amused. "Well then good thing you're unbothered because looks like she's getting comfortable over there"
In an instant you're out of your seat, heading over there. Leaving behind a smirking group of friends.
"Anyone got popcorn?" Peter asks leaning back in his seat, ready to watch the event unfold.
---
James had just wanted a drink, now he was stuck with some random Hufflepuff girl whose name he couldn't be bothered to remember. Molly? Polly? who cares?? She was becoming way to touchy for him to care.
"Uh yeah" James nodded agreeing to whatever she had been saying whilst trying to shift away.
James' sense of discomfort eases when he sees you making his way over to him. His lips parting as he takes you in. You looked really fucking hot. You were wearing his extra jersey which, with the help of magic, you had made bigger and cinched in all the right places to create a dress. A dress that left James drooling the moment he saw you this morning, not only did it accentuate your curves but it brandished his name. Everyone knew you were his girl and Merlin did he love it.
"Hi darl-" he was cut off but your lips pressing into his. Your fingers threading through his hair tugging softly, whilst pressing closer to him. James hummed in delight pulling you into him his hands travelling down to your ass, paying no mind to girl awkwardly watching the scene. This was not the greeting he was expecting, but who was he to complain?
When you finally pulled away you giggled at his dazed state, straightening his glasses and wiping the lip gloss from his lips as he looked at you with glossy eyes.
The girl coughed, turning your attention to her “Oh sorry! did I interrupt something?” you exclaimed in faux surprise, smiling at the obviously irritated girl.
“Yes actually” she scoffed “Me and Jamie were just making hogsmeade plans, weren’t we?” she pouted looking towards him, only to find him watching you with wide eyes and a stupidly adorable smile.
Jamie? The. Fucking. Audacity.
“Oh were you?” you smirked stroking the back of James’ head “Is that true, my love?” you sent him a soft smile.
“Huh?” he murmured letting his eyes trail over your body.
You couldn’t help out but let out a laugh watching the girl scowl.
“Jamie” you gained his attention cupping his cheek.
“Yeah”
“It’s rude to not respond baby, she’s asking you something”
“Oh” he blinked “ What was the question?” he asked keeping his eyes on you.
“Whatever” The girl scoffed walking away.
James payed her no mind, pulling you back into him kissing over your face.
“You. Look. Fucking. Ethereal.” he emphasized kissing you after each word
“Mhmm could’ve seen me in something better if you weren’t distracted” you teased, pouting as you trailed a finger down his chest.
James’ head filled with ideas of what that ‘something better’ his breath catching before he caught up with your words.
“Distracted?”
“Mhm with that girl” you say eyes drifting to the Hufflepuff, who was still watching, complaining to her friends.
James smirked as he saw the look of disgust on your face. Were you jealous?
"Find something amusing?" you raised a brow, pulling away "Were you having a nice time her?"
"With Polly?" James chuckled "I couldn't give a shit about her, love."
"I thought her name wa-"
"Who gives a fuck?" James deadpanned pulling you back into him "Why would I care about her when I've got all this" he reasoned running his hands over your body. "As if she could compare to my sexy goddess of a girlfriend"
You couldn't help but smile all your worries washing away, you leaned up whispering in his ear "Yeah well your sexy girlfriend has a present for her champion boyfriend" kissing under his ear before continuing "A red lacy present"
James groaned, his pants tightened as he burrowed his head into your neck. "I should make you jealous more often"
" 'm not jealous" you roll your eyes
"Whatever you say princess"
You locked eyes with the girl over his shoulder, smirking as he kissed at your neck.
So maybe you were jealous? It doesn't matter. Because at the end of the day, your sex god boyfriend only had eyes for you.
#THE sex god boyfriend#iykyk#james potter x reader#james potter fanfiction#james potter#james fleamont potter#james potter fic#james potter fluff#jealous reader#james x reader#james x y/n#reader insert#reader insert fanfiction#aaron taylor johnson#loml#marauders fanfiction#marauders x reader#james potter imagine
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ACE CRIES IN HIS DREAM OHHHH THE DEVELOPMENT FOR ACE MY HEART HURTSSSSSS b4 ace would have deflected yuu going oh it was a joke when i said you can message me if you feel lonely and now b7 ace is actually being more honest going dont say that i'll feel bad MS RAVEN IM ALL OVER THE PLACE
AND NOT MOST OF THE BOYS' DREAMS REVOLVING AROUND THEM AND THEIR FAMILY/DORM MATES BUT ACE'S DREAM HERE IS LITERALLY ABOUT YUU??? U TRYNNA TELL ME SOMETHING??? OUGHHH MY HEART IS IN PAINNNNNN AND THE TANGLED EVENT COMING SOON THEYRE OVERFEEDING MEEEEEEE
[Referencing the JP Feb 2025 schedule; you can read my thoughts on book 7 chapter 12 part 2 here!]
I wasn’t expecting Ace to get a unique crying expression but here we are 😂 Pretty proud of myself for calling that Ace’s dream would address these oddly dismissive comments from back in 7-17:
It’s so Ace of him to be blunt when calling others out but also having trouble being honest about his own feelings. Those lines in 7-17 definitely read as deflecting and being in denial to me. That’s just how Ace chooses to cope with his problems.
You can even see this same mentality carrying through into his new crying expression… See? He’s still trying to smile and laugh, even through his tears. (Your one true love, by the way, is coincidentally described by Ace in Ghost Marriage as being “someone you can laugh and cry with”!)
fbskwbuwnsma I find it really funny how people were theorizing that Malleus would OB over the threat of Yuu going home when he ended up OBing over the thought of losing Lilia… Then it turns out that Ace is the one centering Yuu in his foremost desires 😭 I mean, I know Ace made that long trek back to Sage’s Island back in book 4, but so did Deuce and Deuce didn’t dream of Yuu staying—only Ace did. This is most likely the result of Ace not properly processing his feelings in the waking world (because of his deflection and denial), despite deep down valuing his friendships with Yuu, Deuce, etc.
Come to think of it, it makes sense that Ace’s dream ended up taking place during summer vacation on the Stitch island… because Stitch talked about ohana—family, which means no one gets forgotten or left behind. Ace’s dream is to be able to move forward (ie the summer after the end of their first year)… with all of his friends and NRC family. That includes his Heartslabyul classmates (yes, even his tyrannical dorm leader that he always complains about) and his friends at Ramshackle.
I can see why this would feed the brain rot of Ace yumes www It really slots in with the “I-It’s not like I care about you or anything, idiot! (jk I care so much)” kind of trope. And his dream taking place on a remote island screams “stereotypical beach fanservice episode”. Bro just keeps slotting in sk well with all the classics… Wishing all Ace yumes fun with this update ^^
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#Ace Trappola#Malleus Draconia#Deuce Spade#Yuu#notes from the writing raven#book 7 spoilers#book 4 spoilers#Lilia Vanrouge#book 7 chapter 12 part 2 spoilers#Reader#self insert#Ace Trappola x Reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#Grim#Stitch
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༘♡⋆ hopeless
༉ just blue lock boys having a crush on you!
starring yoichi isagi, meguru bachira, seishiro nagi & reo mikage (all separate)! x reader
warnings cursing, implied fem! reader in reo’s part
notes so i forgot how to write..
YOICHI ISAGI
isagi was like a literal simp.
finding any excuse to talk to you— no matter how ridiculous it seemed, isagi would make it work somehow.
yeah. even if it meant purposely accidentally bumping into you.
“oh sh—i’m so sorry! are you okay? i didn’t mean to bump into you,” he stammered, his face already flushed red at the contact of your shoulders brushing. he offered a water bottle, snack— hell, even doing your homework as an apology.
on the other hand, you only stood there watching in amusement. “yoichi, i’m fine, don’t worry.” you said with a smile, trying to reassure him.
and ever since that day, isagi would suddenly be around you constantly— from simple greetings to walking you to all of your classes (it’s fine if he was a few minutes late, what’s the big deal?)— all while still coming up with the most random conversation starters that left you questioning what really was going on through his head.
“bread or rice for breakfast? bread? awesome, me too! so, what are your plans for this weekend?”
it eventually becomes a cycle that leads to his friends finding out about it, too. while some mostly stay back and watch him stumble over his words with a red face whenever they spot him talking to you, others do the opposite. like bachira, for example, who teases him like hell for it.
“hey, what’s with that smile?”
at his friends’ sudden question, isagi immediately felt his cheeks heat up, trying to think of a believable excuse to escape bachira’s teasing. only to fail and say the first thing that came to his mind, “n-nothing.”
“ohhhh,” bachira replied, drawing out the sound dramatically. “i see, you’re thinking about them, aren’t you?”
isagi stammered out a response in denial, but deep down, knew it was true.
later that night as he laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind was full of thoughts of you. the way your smile made him feel like he was above clouds or whenever you looked at him had his heart skipping a beat.
he groaned softly, turning over to bury his face in his pillow with a pink face. “i’m screwed.” he mumbled to himself, feeling his heart pounding loudly in his chest. despite the swirl of emotions that fogged up his mind, a shy smile tugged at his lips.
isagi couldn’t wait to see you tomorrow.
MEGURU BACHIRA
“meguru, i can’t move if you’re hanging off of my back.”
for the past ten minutes or possibly more, meguru suddenly jumped onto you from behind, his arms and legs locked around you, tightening every time you tried to move.
the hallways were empty except for the both of you, which unfortunately meant for the brown-haired male to keep clinging onto you like a koala, no matter how much you complained and turned to pry him off.
he leaned down to rub his cheek affectionately against yours for a moment. “then don’t.”
“you can’t just cling to me all day,”
“why not? you’re not hard to carry.”
you scoffed, placing your hands on his knees to push them down so he would let go, but to no avail. “what’s that supposed to mean?” you huffed, giving up your attempts to free yourself.
meguru grinned, finally letting go before wrapping an arm around your waist, lifting you off of the ground with ease to hold you bridal style. “you’re really light for someone so short.”
“what the fu— put me down!”
his bright yellow eyes bore into yours. “nope. this is way better!” he replied with a hum, abruptly turning on his heel as he spun you around, his laughter echoing through the hallways.
you felt your cheeks redden at his daring hold on your body, frantically looking around to make sure no one was nearby. gosh, it would be so embarrassing if anyone caught you both in this situation right now.
“why are you even doing this?” you asked, avoiding to look into those warm, honey-colored eyes of his.
meguru paused. “huh..i guess i just like being around you.” he said softly, his tone steering away from playful to sincere.
“oh.” you felt your cheeks redden further, lifting your head once more to face him. “that’s..cute, but—”
“wait,” he interrupted, his eyes widening as if he realized something. “do i..” meguru’s cheeks turned a tad pink as he kept gazing into your eyes intensely, causing you to get nervous.
then he burst out laughing. “ohh, i get it now.”
you raised an eyebrow, still confused by what he was referring to. “of what?”
he grinned at you again, holding you tightly in his arms as he leaned in closer, his face mere inches away from yours. “i think i really like you. a lot.”
SEISHIRO NAGI
you lost.
again.
gripping the controller in frustration, you cursed under your breath, “dammit, why is it so hard?”
you were currently over at nagi’s place, chilling in his room while laying on his bed. your eyes focused on the large television displaying the ‘game over’ screen, then back at nagi, who was sprawled out on his gaming chair and engrossed in his phone, the sounds of gunshots and taps of his fingers being heard.
“sei,” you called out, sitting up as you went over to him, nudging his shoulder gently with the palm of your hand.
no answer.
clicking your tongue in annoyance, you decided to move so you would sit in front of him, noticing how his dark eyes were laser-focused on his phone. you reached out, booping his nose.
nagi flinched slightly, his eyes flickering up to meet yours. “what was that for?”
“to get your attention.”
“huh? what do you need?” he asked, casually pressing the pause button on his phone as if he wasn’t currently in the middle of finishing the last boss.
“i need help on this level,” you grabbed the controller, holding it out for him to see the screen shown on tv.
“oh. sure.”
after a while, you waved him goodbye, going off to walk home. nagi waved back, shutting the door once you were out of sight. he sat down on the couch, phone in hand to resume his match. reo, who was sitting on the other end of the furniture and had heard everything from upstairs, decided to try to do the same.
“can you pause your game again and get me a drink?”
nagi hummed, not bothering to look up from his phone. “get it yourself.” he replied with a deadpanned expression.
“but you did it for y/n—”
“that was different.”
reo’s jaw dropped, a vein mark popping on his forehead. “why them and not me!?”
nagi only shrugged. “maybe i just like them more than you.”
his comment had reo sulking that night.
REO MIKAGE
it was white day— a month after valentine’s, where boys were the ones giving gifts to the girls instead; whether for friendship, admiration, or simply reciprocating the gifts they had received from them.
although it was more like another normal day for you. when valentine’s day rolled around, you had given reo a box of chocolates for the sole purpose of being a great friend, not thinking much of it back then.
what you didn’t know, was that he decided to give you something back.
except ten times more.
as you walked into the classroom, your eyes widened at the sight of your assigned desk being stacked with all sorts of gifts— heart-shaped chocolate boxes, small bags of cookies, flowers, and a small teddy bear in a suit with a white tag above its chest.
oh, don’t forget a single pink card on top of everything.
a group of your classmates surrounded your desk, murmuring who was your admirer to have gifted you so much. how did you manage to get the most gifts on white day out of everyone else in the room?
from what they knew, you didn’t give any guy a whole stack of gifts. so what gives?
meanwhile for you, it didn’t take you that long to figure out who your—possible— secret admirer was.
who else other than reo mikage himself?
once classes were over, you spotted him standing nearby, leaning against the wall while trying to look nonchalant. you headed towards him, carrying the mountain of gifts in your arms.
“hey reo! look at what i got,” you said with a grin, holding everything up for him to see. “i wonder who got me all this. i want to thank them personally, you know?”
reo silently beamed, thinking he pulled it off perfectly— especially you not knowing who it was. he cleared his throat, trying to maintain his innocent act. “oh yeah, i wonder.”
your eyes narrowed as you looked at him, picking up the teddy bear. “it’s obviously you, it literally has your name on it.”
crap. reo’s eyes widened, his face flushing pink in embarrassment. how did he fail to notice that!? “oh—uh..” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck while avoiding eye contact.
“..it’s fine, thank you, reo.” you said softly with a smile.
he looked up, his heart racing in his chest once he noticed that sweet smile of yours that never failed to leave him a flustered mess each time.
“really—”
“just don’t send an entire store of chocolates next time.”
#blue lock#bllk#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#bllk x you#isagi yoichi#yoichi isagi x reader#yoichi isagi x you#meguru bachira#meguru bachira x reader#meguru bachira x you#seishiro nagi#seishiro nagi x reader#seishiro nagi x you#reo mikage#reo mikage x reader#reo mikage x you#x gn! reader#i dont like this lmao#i gotta lvl up again..#meracyn
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ONE THING ABOUT BEING THE QUEEN OF DELUSIONS? IT GIVES YOU A LONG WAY TO FALL
p.s. this post isn’t pretty, it wasn’t worth my time, or effort.
Hey Upper East Siders. Gossip girl here. Usually i’m here to help you fix your life, but @loaisacult, this one’s for you. And I can’t name any upper east siders more desperate than, well…you. It’s pitiful I know. But you can cry about it later, if you haven’t ran out of tears already, that is.
I don’t mean to start a fight, but there’s a weak link in every chain, and it just happens to be you.
I know you express your belief in the law of assumption being a cult. The funny thing is, when people don’t like something, they usually walk away, unless it bothers them that much. And the even funnier thing is, you complain about bloggers “preaching” the law of assumption, and getting others to follow. But what are you doing? Preaching your ideologies, in hopes that others will follow you too. Oh what’s that word again…hypocritical was it?
And oh sweetie, no one cares about your irrelevant opinions enough to affirm “@loaisacult doesn’t exist, @loaisacult doesn’t exist…” Talk about a weak argument. I hope law isn’t your major. But you know what is major? Your idiocy.
Calling people on this app suicidal? Pathetic. Although I can’t tell you that isn’t true. Because to some extent, it is. And i’d agree with you if you weren’t so ignorant. But I guess changing self in terms other than just loa isn’t your cup of tea. Bloggers are not meant to be personal therapists for people in the loacommunity. And yes there are and were previously some bloggers who would get suicidal asks from anons and just respond to them to persist. But why are you generalising EVERYONE in the community? Your point is immediately invalid. So because there were some immoral bloggers who would act that way automatically means that the whole entire practise of the law of assumption is a CULT? Hello? Do you hear yourself?
Let’s use your “logic” here. Say gossip girl makes a post telling her followers to worship satan. Therefore the whole entire loa community must ALL be satanists! Now how ridiculous is that…
Yes there are liars, everywhere. Oh i’m sorry, did that come as a surprise to you? You didn’t think the world was rainbows and sunshine did you? Well unless you assume it is. But at the same time, there are honest people too. Yet you like to pick and choose what to focus on. Look me in my virtual eyes and tell me that Lady gaga isn’t one of the most famous people on the planet. Oh wait..you can’t! News flash, she manifested that. And so did many of your other favourites. Yet you choose to focus on liars, because that’s what you want to believe. Of course a close minded, one sided argument is your way to go. Disregard everything else in the process why don’t you.
“It's ironic how some boast about manifesting luxury items like Lamborghinis, which could easily be rented, yet they fail to manifest meaningful change for their followers who are in abusive situations.” - l.o.s.e.r
B-b-but didn’t you say that you used to be a big blogger? So why didn’t you attempt to do the same? (As if! it would only work if they assumed so). But honestly, you don’t sound like someone who is educated on the law, you sound like those desperate anons in bloggers inboxes asking bloggers to manifest for them. Because why is that the point you used? To manifest for followers? Were you…one of those…followers? Talk about holding a grudge. No wonder why you’re so mad. If I had a dime for how many times you got rejected i’d be a millionaire.
“Want to prove to your followers who are spiraling about the American election rather than post persist hehehee how about you manifest for them….. change the election revise life’s an illusion while you’re crying about having your rights taken away lol but you can’t.” - l.o.s.e.r
Run upper east siders, we’ve got an idiot on our hands. Making a point on something completely false. If you really understood the law, you’d know that you can’t manipulate somebody else’s reality, unless they assume you can. But it’s not to my surprise that you didn’t know that, of all people. Last time I checked, it’s YOUR imagination, and nobody else’s. So WHY would YOUR 3D reflect THEIR imagination? And you claim to be a blogger educated on the law…quite a “big” one too. I cant name any “big” bloggers who’ve misinformed the law THAT bad. Talk about liars now…
At this point, it’s PAINFULLY obvious that you were one of those anons begging bloggers to manifest for you. Because you’re SO mad that bloggers don’t do that for people. They can’t really because it depends on your assumption. I’m not even making an invalid point here. It’s just so obvious. “Want to prove to your followers.” “how about you manifest for them” 😭 I’m literally in tears because of how funny this is. I’m sorry that no blogger has proven it to you or manifested “for you”, and you’ve carried that hatred with you and projected it onto the whole loa community. And the only reason you continue to believe that the law of assumption is real (rightfully so) is because you know that there’s way too much proof of it to even attempt to dismiss it without looking like a fool. And maybe a fraction of that belief comes from your hope, because without the law, everything you’d ever hoped for would be out the window.
In short, you make points about “why don’t you manifest for your followers 🥺” Well, I don’t know if you knew this but…there’s this concept called free will. And just because someone chooses to not do something, doesn’t mean they can’t. Is common sense just not part of the package for you? It seems the point flies right over your head faster than you can catch it, and the only thing that doesn’t land, are your “points”.
But if you still don’t understand me, let’s use a little bit of your so -called logic here.
‘Loa is real manifesting is real shifting is real but most people in this community lie and are culty 99.999% of the stories here are lies the people doing that shit don’t even post abt it probably think they’re in some dream most of the success here are creative writing and living in the end.” - l.o.s.e.r
From YOUR logic, couldn’t I just ask you to manifest that the liars don’t exist and that you no longer view the law of assumption as a cult? So why haven’t you…? You’ll ask anyone questions but yourself. And if they think it was a dream…then how did they send their success stories to bloggers? Did I miss an update because last time I checked, you can’t do that in a dream. See, your points are fuelled by complete hatred, not logic. You truly don’t believe what you’re telling yourself and others. Embarrassing.
And don’t get me started on how statistically IMPOSSIBLE that is. Do I even have to explain why? I promise you, thousands of people are NOT lying for the pure fun of it. That’s just not how the human mind works. Wouldn’t they rather shit on loa just like you rather than posting success stories hoping it’ll happen?I didn’t know talking out of the wrong hole was in fashion these days. But then again, not everyone has style. And if there’s one thing money can’t buy, it’s class. Was that a moth? Must’ve flewn right out of your wallet.
Now don’t get me wrong, i’m not bothered to read your whole blog and all the nonsense you cry about and debunk every little thing you say. Because trust me, common sense does the job for me.
Have fun continuing to “preach” your delusional idea of the law being a cult to yourself and your little followers. Like sheep. One after the other.
Don’t even think about trying to respond to me, as if anything you say makes sense.
P.S. I’ll delete this post later, I don’t like having drama on my blog. This is my first and last time addressing you. I just don’t want people in this community, including my lovely upper east siders to listen to idiots like you telling them that all the success stories they’ve read are fake, when that is so obviously not true. Only someone who hasn’t consciously the experienced the law for themselves would doubt others so badly, and you used to be a “big” blogger you say…The fucking audacity. But then again, it’s hard to believe in something you haven’t experienced for yourself (is it?), but at-least don’t get caught in a lie. Disrespectfully, shut your mouth and don’t open it again.
- gossip girl
#loa tumblr#loassumption#loa blog#loablr#affirm and manifest 🫧 🎀✨ ִִֶָ ٠˟#manifestation#loa#the void state#neville goddard#law of assumption blog#loa success#law of manifestation#edward art#living in the end#void state#live in the end#law of assumption#void
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