#with any luck though i will Never have to do this again

[moyazaika]

have your cake (and eat it too)

yandere! L Lawliet (death note) x gn! reader

cw; L is his own tw, imposter syndrome, explicit nsfw, mdni 18+

genie's notes; yayyy commissioned piece for @ozzgin !!! thank you ozzy my beloved for giving me the opportunity to write about my man ♡ if this feels long that's bc it is LOL i was having sm fun writing it got to 4k words,, can you tell i'm bonkers for this guy,, nevertheless, i hope you enjoy reading as much as i did writing :D

“Take a picture,” you murmur. “It’ll last longer.”

“I know.”

You spare the man sitting besides you a quick glance. Despite the numerous dossiers emptied out onto the oak table before you, the detective’s attention is transfixed solely on you. Has been, for the past few hours. 

“Ryuzaki?” You try again, hoping he’ll get the hint this time.

Stop fucking staring at me.

No such luck. He only tilts his head to the side expectantly and you wonder, not for the first time, whether he enjoys playing the fool, or if he’s just truly ignorant of your discomfort. 

You don’t know which answer would be worse.

What you do know is that you can count on both hands the number of times you’ve been alone in a room with L. After all, it’s the exact same number of times that you’ve silently prayed for Kira to do you a favour and take you next.

The memory of the rest of the task force’s departure is still vivid. Yagami’s sympathetic smile. Matsuda’s shameless commiserations. 

You can barely think. The sensation is strangely claustrophobic. Even now, you can feel the weight of his gaze settling over you like a burden. 

With a weary sigh, you turn back to the pictures you’re thumbing through. All images of Kira’s most recent victims; their pale faces and milky eyes stare back at you with accusation. Months have passed without any sufficient leads and sure, you pull at loose threads when you can—but the mystery never quite unravels itself the way you hope for it to. There are no frayed edges. No loose seams. 

Whoever this guy is, you can tell the smug son of a bitch takes pride in his work. Has you working overtime, too. 

The wall clock across the room reads twenty minutes until five, but you didn’t really need to check the time to know that. With how high up you are, you can already glimpse the makeshift beginnings of dawn through the narrow gaps between Tokyo’s neon-lit buildings. 

Screw this.

You’re going to cut your losses; already know you’re not getting any work done in these conditions. Better to mull over the details in the privacy of your own space—far from prying eyes. 

You take the opportunity to flick through the pictures of civilian corpses once more, committing the details of the dead men’s faces to memory before finally tossing the alarmingly heavy file down onto the desk in front of you, where it lands with a resounding, strangely satisfying thud.

L doesn’t even flinch. 

“I’m going home,” you announce, actively making an effort to avoid meeting the man’s eyes. Your chair scrapes against the floor as you stand, and the noise is unbearably loud within the otherwise silent room. 

“So soon?”

You laugh at that. “It’s four in the morning, Ryuzaki.”

“Hm. So it is.”

“Time flies,” you shrug on your coat. “When are you going to leave?”

You ask out of politeness rather than any genuine curiosity. The question mumbled absently as you rummage around in your pockets for your hotel keycard. 

You’re not from Tokyo. Just staying here for as long as the task force needs you to. Called in months ago from a nearby prefecture because of your stellar track record. You like to think you’re intelligent, and that Japan’s top minds recognised that about you. You suppose it doesn’t really hurt that you’ve got some connections to the national police force. 

Though you’re glad to be trusted with the case, and happy to be here—you’ve never really cared much for the city of Tokyo itself. You miss the humdrum of the countryside; the constant chirping of cicadas hidden amidst tall blades of grass. A clear, blue sky unblemished by the fine points of soulless skyscrapers. Weaving through crowds without wondering whether one of them might be the mass murderer you’re hunting down.

L’s monotonous drawl snaps you out of your thoughts. Brings you back to exactly where you are right now and not necessarily where you’d prefer to find yourself, instead.

“I won’t.”

“You won’t?”

“Yes,” he repeats. Enunciates the syllables as if speaking to a child. No further clarification.

“I’m sorry.” You’re really not. “Are you seriously going to sleep here again?” You honestly don’t mean to sound disrespectful but the incredulity in your tone is difficult to mask. Much less in the presence of the world’s greatest detective. 

The stories are true. You found them difficult to believe at first, but since then, you’ve confirmed the extent of L’s genius with your own observations. The man before you can function perfectly without any sleep for days on end. You remember the first time you’d left the office; come back the next morning to find L hadn’t moved an inch from where you’d left him last night. 

Even still, it’s hard not to notice the prominent bags under his black eyes. The state of his clothes, all crumpled. The greasy, unkempt hair that frames his face. Despite his intellect, he’s still only human.

Even if it can be alarmingly easy to forget that.

“Why?” L asks blankly. “Are you offering me an alternative?”

Briefly, you think of the deputy director learning, come morning, that you’d left L to his own devices; The hard lines of disappointment marring his features. The disapproval in his otherwise polite gaze. He can’t be left alone. Something about being far too valuable, if you recall correctly. Or did he say vulnerable?

Regardless, you already feel like some charity case, even though you know that you’ve clawed your way to be here; called in favours and kissed the feet of men far beneath you. You deserve to be on the Kira task force as much as everybody else. Yet, you know what your answer will be long before you’ve even said anything. 

Something tells you L knows, too. He’s never been the sort of man to ask questions that serve him no greater purpose. 

Sometimes, you detest people like Matsuda for the ease with which they inhabit such unwelcoming spaces so boldly. The ability to exist so openly, without inhibition. But you detest yourself most of all, especially in moments like this where you’re burdened by the need to prove your belonging.

Well– 

Are you offerring me an alternative?

–Shit.

“Yes.” you concede, not even bothering to look back at him as you reach to call for the elevator. Press the button with considerably more force than you should. “I suppose I am.” 

You’re not nice. You’re certainly not charitable. But you are easy.

You spare him an exasperated glance over your shoulder when the doors finally slide open with a yielding sigh. From behind you, L makes no indication to move. You begin to doubt if he’s even heard you. Or, more specifically, whether he was ever really listening to begin with. His black eyes can feel so fucking vacant, sometimes.

“You coming?” you impatiently tap your foot against the carpeted floor as you hold the elevator open with narrowed eyes. “Or do I need to send you an invitation, Ryuzaki?”

“No need.” At that, L finally stands. He offers you one of his rare, private smiles; “I believe you already have.”

-

There are a couple of things you come to notice about L that day, when the ongoing investigation isn’t at the forefront of your buzzing mind.

It’s there, of course, because it’s difficult for any person to forget all of those dead faces; the list of unanswered questions growing by the hour—but the moment you slide your key into the lock and it turns with a satisfying click to open right into your little hotel room, it feels like a weight’s been lifted off your shoulders.

Take, for example, L’s penchant to be barefoot. He immediately steps out of his shoes the moment you kick the door shut behind you. Sinks his toes into the carpet (stained, and scratchy) with a blissful sigh. 

You're choosing to ignore that.

Better not to drive yourself up the wall by paying attention to every little thing he does.

“Hungry?” you shrug off your coat and toss it onto the sofa.

“Sure.” And it’s not exactly a response, but you think this is the best you’re going to get from the man. Go rummaging through the fridge straight away, as you wave for him to take a sit in the tiny living room across from you. 

“I know you have a sweet tooth,” The leather sofa crackles beneath his weight as he perches right on the edge, legs tucked up against his chest and his head resting over his knees sideways; so that he’s watching you in the kitchen. “So I’m cutting you a slice of some cake I made last weekend. Couldn’t finish it by myself if I tried.”

You eye him wearily as you set down the plates on the coffee table before the sofa, making sure to leave as much distance as is possible between the two of you when you sit down.

He sort of reminds you like a cat when he's like this, all curled up and comfortable. When he tries his first spoonful of sponge cake, he might as well start purring with delight. “This is good,” he mumbles between bites. “I didn’t know you could bake.”

“Yeah?” You impatiently drum your fingers against the armrest. “Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

The moment stretches for longer than it should. 

You meet the detective’s eyes head on, find they���re as wide as saucers, staring back at you; and peering right inside. It feels downright voyeuristic and so fucking violating, the way you can feel him peeling back everything that you are to assess something nestled much, much deeper within. 

You look away first, and the moment you do, you hear L hum approvingly—he sounds pleased, almost.

And though you know he would never seriously consider you competition, you still can’t shake the strange feeling that you’ve lost at something.

“No." L concludes. "No, I don’t think so.”

He sets his plate down on the table with a clink and you’re not surprised to find he’s already finished eating. All that remains is a single cherry; so violently red against the pale porcelain it sits on. 

“Tell me,” He pinches the stem between his forefinger and thumb, and it’s the first reprieve you’re gifted from the weight of his calculating gaze; as his attention shifts to the sweet fruit he holds. “Why do you hate me?”

Shit, you realise your fingers are digging into the cracks in the leather armrest; flex your hand a few times before making an attempt to calmly fold them in your lap. Maybe because you make me feel like a fucking failure?

“I think you’re too smart for your own good.”

He gives that some thought. “As are you.”

It’s laughable, really. L is leagues above you in terms of intelligence. Prestige. Power. Who are you standing next to one of the greatest minds in the world? Who are you to deign that he recognises you?

You refuse to even recognise yourself. 

“You don’t believe that,” you scoff. 

“I do. I knew it from the moment you were first introduced to me.” 

You pick up on something strange about the way he phrases it; the necessity of awareness required from both parties in a first introduction.

I'm losing it.

You shake your head, abandoning the tendrils of something akin to unease that had just begun to creep up on you. When else would he have first known you? It's a stupid thought. You’re not exactly the sort of person preceded by some magnificent reputation. 

“Sure,” you decide to entertain him nevertheless, if only to see how far he’ll go. You wonder whether this is as close to gratitude as L can express, but is it for the hospitality or for the cake or for something in between? “And why was that, Ryuzaki?”

“L,” he corrects you. “Because even then, you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“And that’s what supposedly makes me a genius?” you scrunch your nose, “because I don’t like you?”

“So you insist on maintaining,” he drawls. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Did you know, detective,” L ventures thoughtfully, “your heart rate always spikes quite dramatically whenever you’re alone with me.” His black eyes flicker to meet yours as he breaks off the stem—pops the cherry between his grinning lips. 

You dig your nails into the skin of your palm. Focus on the sharp sensations of precise pain; imagine the little indents of crescent moons that will litter your skin later on. 

“Ah,” your voice is unfamiliar even to your own ears. “Is that so?”

He eats the stem next, and you notice, not for the first time, that the man's skin is so pale, it’s like a thin sheet has been stretched tight over brittle bones. You can easily trace the jagged lines of blue and purple veins that curl around and underneath his face.

L’s lithe fingers reach into his mouth where the dark stem sits between his teeth. You catch a glimpse of his tongue as he pulls out the stem, now damp, and examines it between his fingers; holds it up to the light.

It takes you a few moments to realise he must be admiring his efforts. Or, rather just observing them. You’re not really sure if L is capable of awe. Whether he cares for it, given how easily he earns it; must not mean much to him.

(You’ll find out later that he is capable of awe, though there are more important things he hopes to garner.)

The cherry stem’s all folded up on itself; he’s tied it into a knot with his tongue. 

Instinctively, your eyes dart to his mouth. “I didn’t know you could do that,” you confess lowly. “Neat party trick, huh?”

And the moment you voice the thought, you wish you’d stayed silent. The curl of his lips is infuriatingly self-satisfied, as if he’s in on some grand secret you’re not quite privy to; it feels the closest L will ever get to outright mockery, yet even then, there is something you must have mistaken for sincerity in his gaze. 

You’re not sure whether that makes you feel better, or worse.

“There’s a lot,” L confesses slowly, “that you don’t know about me.”

It doesn’t escape you that even something as simple as this sounds truer when L says it.

-

Later, the dishes have been cleared away and though you can barely keep your eyes open, you’re rummaging through your suitcase to pass him a new toothbrush because, you insist, you always carry spares. L admits he's never had to brush his own teeth before.

One hand on his jaw, and another curled around the brand new toothbrush you'd managed to dig out for him, you give him a reluctant demonstration.

You don't think he listens to a word you say; his attention seems to be focused elsewhere.

After his turn, you pad into the attached bathroom and brush your own teeth with the overhead lights switched off.

Tired, you don’t notice as you unscrew the lid of your old toothpaste that your own brush’s bristles are wet, whereas the toothbrush you’d handed to L is still unopened in its plastic packaging, left positioned neatly by the basin. 

-

L is garishly tall. 

It can be easy to forget that considering how often he’s hunched over a desk or curled up in a chair. When he stretches to yawn, his shirt rides up his abdomen, revealing a pale sliver of skin underneath. You avert your gaze. The last thing you need is to be caught staring.

“Take the bed,” you offer, already sinking into the loveseat's cushions.

L stares at you as he scratches his jaw. “I don’t sleep in beds.”

You don’t even want to begin deciphering that statement. You’re beginning to think this cryptic act is purposeful; that he gets off on being evasive. Out of reach. 

You’re not even sure if he can see you, considering how dark it is in the room, but you put on your sweetest smile all the same. It feels vindictive and thrilling and you believe it’s the least he deserves.

“Well, cheers to trying new things, Ryuzaki.”

He says nothing in response, and even though he’s nothing more than a vague silhouette in the absence of light, you manage to make out the slowly way he climbs into the bed—crawls to the edge of the Queen bed that’s closest to your own spot. Pulls up the duvet to his chin, and lies on his side so he's directly facing you.

It’s unnerving. You wish desperately in times like these that you could click his head open like a purse and look inside; it's impossible to tell what he's thinking.

And then he starts talking.

-

Finally, there’s a lull in your conversation that stretches far too long.

You make no effort to salvage the exchange, relishing in its conclusion, and much to your relief, neither does your partner. It’s not necessarily that L’s bad company but it’s also not not that he’s impossibly infuriating to talk to. You just want to sleep. It's been a long fucking day.

You close your eyes, allowing a welcome silence to settle inside the stuffy room. 

…

Then you try to ignore it.

…

You really, really do.

…

Much to your dismay, even your best efforts prove futile. The quiet doesn’t last nearly as long as you’d like. 

“Ryuzaki,” In the face of overwhelming fatigue, all niceties are forgotten and honesty reigns supreme. “Why the fuck can I feel your eyes on me?”

“I can’t sleep,” he simply responds, in lieu of a proper answer. 

You might’ve laughed if you weren’t so tired. Unlike him, you unfortunately do not have the seemingly inhumane ability to function properly without multiple consecutive nights of sleep. So, with a long sigh, you decide to let it slide.

Just one more time. 

Then, with disapproval evident in your weary voice, because it would feel too much like accepting defeat to say nothing at all; “you know, normal people usually just count sheep.”

“Mm." The sheets rustle. "Sleep well.” 

“...Thanks. You, too.”

Behind the heavy blackout curtains of the hotel room, the sky turns a soft, dreamy lilac. 

Outside, some parts of Tokyo wake up to the mellifluous sound of morning’s first birdsong, and others take that as their queue to drunkenly stumble home in search of a warm bed to fall into.

On the busy streets dozens of stories below yours, the city moves as it always does. Vibrant and alive—though waiting with bated breath in anticipation of death; Kira the only constant in this new world.

You don’t even realise you’ve dozed off in the armchair; sleep is simply a welcome reprieve from such a long day. A privilege, and not the routine it used to be.

You dream of running away from something. Of simply falling through a solid floor.

Conversely, though he has taken your advice, L finds rest evades him.

Content with staying awake, he takes the rare opportunity to simply observe you from across the room, and it’s such a fascinating sight, to finally see you so at peace. You usually run on such a short fuse. Well-meaning, but difficult to deal with nonetheless. You like to be seen; hate to be stared at. 

Aren’t you a charmer?

In the pale beginnings of dawn, he is a silent shepherd. He smiles at the thought, whilst gnawing on his thumbnail. 

The sheep he counts all have your face.

-

You’re not sure what exactly it is that wakes you up, but it’s quiet when you do.

Even still, something causes you to stir, and before you know it, you’re pulled out of a sleep you hadn’t even realised you’d fallen into with bleary, blinking eyes that adjust to the dark and land on—

Nothing. A startling absence where L’s body should be.

The bed’s empty, and the crinkled duvet has been hastily tossed to one side. You notice that the warm glow of the nauseatingly yellow bathroom lighting spills out from behind the door, left open just a crack. It strikes you as strange, that the door’s not fully closed. You feel justified in looking in. Call it concern. Curiosity. 

Does it really matter?

“Ryuzaki?” you venture, stepping closer. No answer. The silence is strangely more overbearing when you’re standing right in front of the bathroom door. With a hand resting on the brass knob, you decide to try once more. “Hey. L?” Silence, still and true.

It feels a lot like peering into Pandora’s box, when you inevitably do push the door open. 

Look inside. And, huh—

There is L, hunched over the sink. 

In one hand, he is holding what is unmistakably your underwear. You recognise the soft cotton instinctively, even though it’s balled up tight in his fist and he’s pressing the fabric against his nose; shuddering when he breathes in, languidly long and deep like a desperate smoker's drag of his last cigarette.

The lighting overhead casts sweeping shadows over his pale face, but despite the darkness the rest of his features are enshrouded in, you still manage to make out those black eyes; blown wide, wide open. Thick and heavy like eerily lucid, deep, dark pools of tar you can feel yourself getting sucked into.

His hand works at a methodologically steady pace. His breathing is perfectly controlled as he works at his cock with deft fingers. His tip is flushed a painful pink, leaks pre that’s been smeared down the shaft’s length. Between glimpses, you manage to make out prominent veins that eagerly pulse in response to his touch. 

Proud. Heavy.

Hungry to sink into something far tighter than his fist.

—Your breath catches in your throat. It is impossible to look away. 

The following moments are hazy, at best. Time seems to slow down to a crawl when the scene before you clicks into place, and the world moves in still frames after that; the last one lingering too long and imposing over the next. 

You don’t remember saying anything, but you must have let a gasp slip past your parted lips. Stumbled backwards, perhaps. Some involuntary indication of your presence, peering in behind him.  

Time fractures completely when L looks up; gaze snapping straight to meet yours in the mirror.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflection, looking so laughably petrified—clearly just having rolled out of bed. There is not a single thing to be said as he lets his black eyes wander, appraisal silent and shameless as he drinks in the state of you; all tousled hair and crumpled clothes and bare feet. 

His hands work faster then. His movements grow jerkier, breathing shallow. Eyes flutter shut, finally looking away from you, as his grip on your underwear tightens—knuckles white from the sheer effort of holding on, refusing to let go and inhaling your scent—nose buried desperately deep in the dirty cotton. Pathetically fervent. Chasing that blissful high with a new vigour. 

You have been taught by many a smart man to never go seeking answers to questions when you do not wish to face them.

And so, when you glimpse this stranger’s tongue dart out to wet his cracking, dry lips the exact moment they wrap around the shape of a familiar name—hear the syllables repeated with a devotion akin to reverence; something like prayer—the man shudders exactly when you do.

Comes undone just as you slam the door shut.

You’re standing there in what you think might be shock, with a shaking hand resting against the doorknob. You choose to focus on the way in which the hair on your arm stands on end. Because if it’s not that, it’d be the sound of the tap running. 

The door swings open abruptly. The man breezes past you, and quietly crawls back into bed. Rooted to where you stand, it’s all you can do to turn over your shoulder and observe him.

He catches you staring, merely tilts his head to the side from where he’s settled into the sheets, a coy little lilt to his lips. 

For the first time, you’re the one who doesn’t look away. Couldn’t, even if you tried. Stygian strands of hair fall over his eyes, the darkest black they’ve ever been. Despite the fact that it feels like you’re staring at a stranger, facing him is familiar, as it always is; like wading into a thick tar.

Viscous and heavy and clinging.

You might’ve missed what he said if you weren’t so hyper focused on his every minute movement. His words are barely above a whisper, after all, and carry a strange lilt—as if recited, almost. Like he’s reading a line; performing some private joke.

“Take a picture,” L smiles knowingly. “It’ll last longer.”

[demigodofhoolemere]

Oh my gosh, I just had such a good dream and I’m so mad it wasn’t real.

It was supposed to be the new Doctor Who episode with Ruby back. It starts with Fifteen and Belinda ending up in this church (tucked away somewhere in the woods, and while there was a road to it it wasn’t easily accessible either) where you’re always getting lost, there’s no way out and time is going faster outside the building, so you’re seeing very frequent sunrises and sunsets out the windows, which only serves to drive you madder because you know you’re losing days and days inside this place. They had split up for one reason or another, but because you get lost in here, they couldn’t find each other again. Belinda, who was sometimes also me, was really losing it and ended up hiding, rocking back and forth and repeating over and over again how there’s no way out.

Eventually it turns out that Ruby is in this place, too, having heard of people going in and never coming out and wanting to investigate these disappearances. She and Belinda end up working together, trying to figure out what to do.

I don’t know if there was just a time cut here or if there’s something I’ve forgotten, but time had passed, and now Belinda and I were separate people and I was my own third companion, except I was also kind of partly Belinda still, even though she’s standing right there. We were in some room that doesn’t exist in a church building, and it seems like there were maybe some kind of creatures outside the door that we were hiding in there from. Apparently I got knocked unconscious at some point because I was supposed to be asleep for this part. Then, who suddenly comes along? The Third Doctor! But he’s not there to get us out — he came with a specific mission. He had some big box with him, and inside was some kind of device that taps into memories or something. Apparently, I (but also somehow Belinda a bit) had traveled with the Doctor in the past (still Fifteen, not Three) but forgotten in some way or another. In my head as I’m watching the dream I was thinking that this makes sense why Belinda seems to know things she shouldn’t. Fifteen had also forgotten her/me, and I was thinking how it also made sense now who this mysterious person is that Fifteen mentioned having said Belinda’s name to him like it was important — it was Three, of course! (None of this should have made sense when I’m also my own person simultaneously, but sure, whatever). Seemingly, before Fifteen lost his memory of her/me, he’d sent out a message to any other version of himself to find her/me and restore her/my memory, and it was Three who got the message and came, and who will also then say the name in a message to past Fifteen so he goes and finds her/me again in the first place so that she/I would be traveling with the Doctor again for Three to be able to come find her/me in the church and restore the memories. As he explained all this, Ruby and Belinda trusted him implicitly, as one does when faced with Jon Pertwee.

I don’t remember my character waking up and having memories back, but eventually we were all out of the building and reunited with Fifteen. Three had vanished already, not wanting to cross his own timeline by meeting his future self. Ruby was explaining what happened, and it cuts to flashbacks of Three being absolutely epic and breaking into some secret hidden base as she told about all he had to do to get here. There was something with Liz initially helping him get in, and then a bit later for a moment there were two Threes as if he had to travel back to help himself complete this (good luck when his TARDIS is broken!), and then there was this whole montage of Three (singular, lol) sneaking around this base (that looked more Aztec than anything) and shooting things with the blaster he had in Day of the Daleks and flipping people over and all the good stuff. I think when he got to the center of this place, somehow the time shifted and he was able to access the church, which was actually in this location in the future. Then there was something with him leaving and ending up back in the 70s version of this place, and I caught a glimpse of the Brigadier and Yates, seemingly having arrived to do clean-up after Three took down all these bad people. This whole sequence also had my sister and I watching this as if it were the episode and we were the viewers, getting EXTREMELY emotional and crying over Three in New Who and also seeing the others for a couple moments.

I don’t know if Fifteen got his memory of me/Belinda back or if this was one-sided lol. But everything was okay in the end generally.

As of writing this I have not yet seen Lucky Day and I fear it cannot live up to this. 😔

[miodiodavinci]

good news!! i am 25% of the way done with the first draft of my portfolio!! (read: partway through like 50 pages of intensely jargon driven mini essays that are each evaluated by several arcane and strangely worded rubrics)

bad news!! the intense euphoria of nearly being at the point where i can Finally take a break and do what i want without the stress of deadlines hanging over me for the first time in nearly a year paired with the soul-crushing reality of needing to finish the remaining 75% of this project is giving me such intense waves of anxiety and nausea that it is actively preventing me from working on more of the project

[ichthyorelationships]

an idea i invite anyone else to write about / run with lol....

the premise that The Change gets all messed up for alberto, say it's something that can happen from stress, &/or happens rarely and you just have to wait for it to resolve itself....used as some parallel to struggling through some emotional turbulence / upheaval / questioning / Realizing Things, etc etc

[gyaruhana]

please do one where Thanos starts off as your unlikely ally in the games, protecting you from danger and helping you survive. Over time, his protectiveness becomes obsessive, and he begins eliminating anyone he sees as a threat to keeping you by his side even as you start to notice his unsettling behavior you can’t escape his grasp🙏

Thanos/Choi Su-Bong - yandere bf

Synopsis: In an attempt to escape from Thanos, you join a game promising money that will help you escape him. Unfortunately, he also seemed to have joined the game.

A/N: I may have combined this with two other requests bc they were all so similar so.. i hope thats okay !!

Warning: yandere thanos, choking

If you had told your younger self you’d be in a game of death with 45.6 billion won up for grabs, you wouldn’t believe it. And yet, it’s true. After the tragedy that was Red Light, Green Light where many people met a rather unfortunate fate, you realized it’d be in your best interest to find someone you can trust and form an alliance with them.

Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend, Thanos, happened to also be a part of the games and had been watching you from a distance since he spotted you in the first game. You had originally wanted to get away from him because he was nothing but toxic though now it seems Thanos was one step ahead of you. That, or you just had terrible luck and Thanos decided to come here on his own accord. 

You didn't have time to think about it though because he suddenly got up and left his little group behind to make his way straight to you. He didn't seem happy at all. Perhaps it was because the last conversation you two had was an argument that was left off on a bad note. 

“Where have you been? Were you avoiding me? That makes me really fucking mad, you know,” he says as he grabs your wrist so you can't just walk away from him. Not like there was anywhere to go now. You were stuck with him here. 

“I was just taking some time for myself,” you respond defensively. You really just wanted to get away from him which is why you were here in the first place. Your original plan was to win some money and then disappear so you'd never have to deal with Thanos and his crazy behavior again. It was suffocating to be near him.

“Time for yourself? Don't fucking lie to me,” he says as he brings you closer to him. Nothing about him was gentle. Not his touches, or his kisses, or anything. “Well, you've had your time. You're not leaving my side now,” he continues as he looks down at you with a glare. He wasn't leaving any room for you to defy him. In his eyes, you belonged to him. You were his property and that meant you couldn't go rogue and do what you want. 

“You don't get a say in that,” you say as you lean back slightly to try to create some distance between the two of you. He lets out a bitter laugh before grabbing the back of your head, entangling his fingers in your hair, and forcing you closer. “Yes, I do. In case you forgot, you're stuck in a death game with me. Do you really think anyone else will help you? Nobody else here gives a fuck about you. The moment they get the chance, they'll let a bullet go through your head,” he says as he looks down at you with a slightly crazed look. 

You'd like to make a counter point but he’s not exactly wrong. A lot of the people here didn't seem to be trustworthy. Not like Thanos was any better but he probably wouldn't purposely kill you if you didn't piss him off, right? As much as you didn't want to, you realized you didn't have much choice. Unless you want to make an enemy right after the first game, Thanos was your only hope of surviving the rest of the games.

“That's better. Just keep your pretty lips shut and let me do the talking,” Thanos spoke with a slight smirk. You didn't respond to that knowing that you'd likely make some sarcastic quip that would piss him off if you did. You didn't have a choice this time. You couldn't run away to another country. You had to give in just this once.

You'd soon come to regret that decision. 

Somehow, Thanos had only gotten worse. He was always right next to you, no matter what. Either his hand would be over your shoulder or he'd have a tight grip on your waist. When it was lights out, he'd force you to sleep in the same bed as him. He'd kiss you all the time too but it was always rough with teeth clashing against each other and his tongue shoved down your throat.

You didn't notice it got worse until it was far too late. 

The moment of realization was during the third game. The game was called ‘mingle’ and it was simple enough. A number would be called out and you'd have 30 seconds to form a group of that number before getting inside one of the fifty rooms. 

Everyone stood on a circular platform in the center of the room and, per usual, Thanos had his arm over your shoulder, keeping you close to him as he spoke to his other stupid friend. The platform began to spin slowly as a childish song played. When the platform came to a sudden stop and a number was called out you formed a group and ran into a room. 

It was all going fine as you planned strategic moves and managed to keep on surviving. At least, it was going well. Until the last round when the number 2 was called. 

Thanos had immediately taken your wrist and dragged you towards a room, leaving behind his idiot friend without a second thought. However, the room was quickly stolen by two other players. You thought Thanos would just go to the next room over but that was not what happened.

Instead he pushed open the door and immediately grabbed one of the guys by their hair. He didn't think twice before he forced him out of the room. The other guy made an attempt to help but Thanos slammed him against the wall, his hand going around his throat as he choked him. The look in his eyes was far more scary than you remember. You could hardly process what was happening before the guy was punched in the face and pushed out of the room. 

Thanos pulled you in just before the door closed and locked. The sound of gunshots rang out soon after as Thanos huffed in annoyance. He looked guilt free despite the fact he was very much responsible for the death of two people. Actually, now that you really thought about it, he had killed other people in the previous games too.

Fuck. You were beginning to regret your choice of becoming his ally. You'd have much rather found someone else who could protect you from him because he was clearly fucking crazy. Crazier than he used to be. You thought he was just a manipulative, toxic bastard. You didn't think he'd be truly capable of murder. 

“Fucking dickheads,” Thanos mumbles under his breath with annoyance before glancing at your face. The corner of his lips quirked up when he noticed your expression and he wandered in front of you. “What? Something wrong?” He spoke though he already knew exactly what you were thinking.

“You killed those people,” you said as you looked up at him with a combination of fear and disbelief. He laughed in response before reaching a hand up and grabbing your face. “For you, baby. I fucking killed them for you,” he said as he looked down at you with a smirk. He found your expression such a turn-on really. The idea you were afraid of him meant you'd submit to him and that's all he wanted.

“You're fucking crazy.. crazier than I thought,” you spoke as you tried to step back and create some distance between the two of you. In response, he slammed you against the wall and got very close to you. 

“You're only just realizing this? You don't realize when I snapped the ankle of that bastard who looked at you so he'd lose? You didn't realize when our ‘friend’ and I returned but he had a bleeding nose?” He spoke as he got into your face with a dangerous grin. Well, when he said it like that, it became abundantly clear he had been killing and hurting people left and right since day one and all for you. You just had been too caught up in his behavior towards you that you didn't notice how he acted with others.

“Mm. Fuck, I love that look on your face. You're so afraid. Good. Because you're going to learn that you're mine forever, yeah?” He spoke as he brought a hand to your throat and squeezed it tightly. He let out a laugh as he choked you like it was the funniest thing in the world before slamming his lips to yours in a rough kiss. 

It was then you realized that, no matter how hard you tried to escape, you were his now - you always have been - and you will never taste freedom on your tongue again.

[kuurechr]

Sukuna had woken up like an hour ago. But he didn't move. He stayed as still as he could be, in bed with you. He'd been sitting in pitch black for most of the hour, and he could only feel your legs, which were curled up on top of his torso.

As light began to peek through the windows, he could focus on your face. You were sleeping super well – it was to be expected after the night you both had. Drool dripped from your mouth as it hung open, your hands were splayed all over the place, Sukuna's shirt and your blanket were barely on your body – his shirt rode up and your blanket rode down.

He placed his warm hands on your legs, which were cold. You were always cold in your previous life as well – Sukuna had never liked it.

As he looked at you, in all your knocked out glory, he tried to figure out how to tell you so many things. Nothing worked though. And even if he could think up something, he knew the words would immediately get lost in his throat.

"'Kuna?" You shifted. Sukuna kept a firm grip on your thighs. "You been awake long?"

"No," Sukuna grunted. The lack of any usual morning gruffness in his voice gave him away. You brought your fingers up to his head, running them through his slightly tangled hair. "I have to tell you something."

You stopped abruptly. "Sounds serious."

Sukuna frowned. "Not that serious... I'm just... I was offered a job."

"Oh?" A small smile grew on your face. "You had me thinking that you were going to break my heart or something," you sighed.

Sukuna slapped your thigh lighty. "Are you stupid, I'd never do that."

"I know," you nodded, the smile slightly fading. "The accident just keeps making me think that the worst is gonna happen in my life, y'know? Like – what was my luck to drive your sister in law into disaster."

Sukuna reached out for your head. "That wasn't your fault at all," Sukuna huffed. "Jin and I know that... Kaori too." Kaori. She was a problem for a whole other time.

"I know," you huffed. But it just seemed like your default response. You would still think it was all your fault, no matter what Sukuna insisted. "So, tell me about this job."

"It's a ... teaching thing."

Your brows furrowed. "Since when were you qualified to teach?"

"It's uh, a religious school," Sukuna said the lies as he was told to tell. "Kinda far, but still in Tokyo, so not too bad... and uh, the pay is good."

"Do you want to do it?" You asked. "Money isn't tight, you know, I work too–"

"Yeah, but you hate that place," Sukuna huffed. "If I make enough money at this school, you can volunteer more often or work at that small library near the bowling alley, like you said you wanted to. And I do want to do it," Sukuna added, seeing your mouth open to ask again. "I... I think its' important for me to. It's like my callin' or something."

You snickered. "Calling? Am I just tired or have you gone insane?"

"Shuddup."

You can read more of this on AO3 ! Sukuna's Second Chance

[peachigummi]

is that right? ☏ mattheo riddle.

summary: both your parents had set up an arranged marriage. you both simply tolerated it for the most part, as it really was in the best interest for your respective families. over the year, you started to really develop feelings for each other - especially in wanting to expand the family name.

pairing: mattheo x fem! reader

warnings: 18+ jealousy, smut like literal major baby making so there is unprotected p in v and creampie, so breeding!kink, oral sex (giving and receiving), fingering, choking, gagging, slight bondage, almost public but not really?, cock warming... maybe slight daddy/mommy stuff naturally?. i think that's pretty much it fluff at the end. he is rough but talks you through it, praise!kink.

note: this is my first time ever writing smut...omg i almost didnt finish writing this LOL i had to stop midway then I had the post clarity and that shameful feeling HAHAHAH

word count: 7.5k

(slightly not really proofread...again)

reblogs & comments are appreciated! i hope you have fun!! tell me what you think!

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Both your parents had set up an arranged marriage for after you and Mattheo graduated from Hogwarts. You've been married for over a year now, living in a manor that housed both families. There was definitely some tension occurring, recently you’ve both started to further develop feelings. At first you tolerated your union as his family wanted to continue with a strong and pure bloodline, and your family simply wanted protection. 

You were sitting at your vanity, brushing your hair when Mattheo walked out of the bathroom with wet hair and a towel around his waist. He gave you a smug look, heading to the walk-in closet, dropping the towel and slipping on his underwear, his back turned to you. You wouldn’t help but press your thighs together at the sight of him, you quickly return to brush the knots from your hair. 

From the vanity mirror you look at his chiseled back muscles. He still looks as good as the first day you met him. You had the luck on your side for that, at least the partner in your arranged marriage was good looking…yet you craved having a chance to fall in love organically. You could count on a single hand how many times you and Mattheo had been physically intimate. 

Mattheo put on a shirt and grey sweats, shit, before walking out of the closet to approach you. “I’ve heard from your parents that you’ve been talking to another guy at work?” he says calmly but firmly.

You thought about it for a second, “Charlie? Yeah, he’s in training.” After graduating Hogwarts you were able to quickly land a job with the M.O.M. while mattheo stuck with DAD…aka the family…business. I moved on to rub body oil on my legs and arms, not looking at him.

He tried to not pay any attention to you as you moved your hands in tight little circles. Mattheo would love a good massage right about now too, he took a step back and sat on his side of the massive bed, “and what do you talk to him about?”

“I mean,” you scoff at him, “Mattheo, it’s just training protocols. Showing him around the work area, how to do things, where things are at. Not much else to it than that.”

He clenched his jaw, he couldn’t deny that he had an attraction to you, but he always told himself to ignore it, “that’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it.” You stood up from the vanity, clicking closed the boy oil. Setting it down where it belonged, you enjoyed having a tidy space. You sat on your side of the bed.

He looked at the way your hips swayed in your night dress as you walked to your side. You turned your head to look back at him. He looked so tense, “I hope you’re not lying.”

You stayed quiet, of course he wouldn’t trust me. You had never given him a reason not to even before the start of this arrangement, so it annoyed you when he doubted you. That might just be his nature though. You slid into the satin bed sheets, they were nice and cool to the touch, much needed after a long day at work. You turned your bedside lamp off, encasing your both in darkness. Mattheo laid beside you, he usually took to his side, but tonight he was feeling a bit off so he wanted to be close to you. Not making physical contact but enough to where you notice his warm body. 

You kept your eyes open, your back turned away from him, what was he doing? He never slept so close to you. After a long period of silence you spoke up, feeling brave because it was dark. You wouldn’t see his expression and he wouldn’t see yours, “are you jealous, Mattheo?”

He sneered at the question, as if the idea of him being jealous was a crime, “of course not. I’m just concerned that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be.” There was a small hint of jealousy in his voice, he hated to admit it but he didn’t like the idea of you with another man.

“I might have not had a choice, but I don’t plan to step out of this marriage. You have nothing to worry about.” You tried to scoot closer to the edge of the bed, trying to build distance from him, “I wish I could say the same with you…and your assistant.”

His face looked offended, but you couldn't see it, you could hear it in his voice, trying to keep it cool. “My assistant? You’re the only one that is allowed in my office.”

“That’s not what Draco told me.” Mattheo was able to recruit Draco back into the business. Draco was nice to you, he was like a brother figure. Your families were close. They would have arranged a marriage with him instead, but his mother decided against it. She believed in falling in love, and making the choice Draco’s. “He warned me to never let you go on any work trips or work late over time. He doesn’t trust your assistant. Draco told me she wants to take any opportunity to have you alone, where no one can see you two.”

Mattheo gritted his teeth as he listened to you. He didn’t appreciate that Draco was telling you things about him, in fact was pissed. He sat up in bed, turning on his bedside lamp. He looked at you with furious eyes, “Draco has no idea what he’s talking about. My work assistant wouldn’t do such things!” That was a lie and he knew it.

“I trust Draco. Don’t you speak ill of him. Why are you defending her?! YOU’RE the one who should be telling me that you wouldn’t do such things with her!” You couldn’t help your own jealousy come forth, you nearly fell off the bed.

He grabbed your arm to pull you back on the bed. Mattheo spoke with a calm and firm voice, “you have my word that I have never, nor will i ever, do such things with my assistant. No other woman can have me the way you do.” He admitted with a smirk, grabbing your chin and lifting it up so your gaze would be on him only.

You didn’t thank him for catching you, but you were glad he did. You lost your concentration for a split second at his admission. You regained yourself, “fire her then.”

He laughed at your demand, “fire my assistant?” A wicked thought passed through it. He could use this to his advantage to make you feel jealous, test the water on how you felt about him, “Why would I do that? She helps me.”

You crossed your arms, “you have three choices.” You count up with your fingers, “You either fire her. Let me choose an assistant for yourself. Or you hire me to be your new assistant.”

He raised his eyebrow at your offers, but still kept his cool, He didn’t want to show how turned on he was by how demanding you were being at the moment, “you’re giving me an ultimatum…” he smirked slightly, “and you think I’ll just do as you demand?”

“You better mattheo. If you don’t want to take it for purely my sake, do it for your bloodline.” I rolled my eyes. Fighting back the blush, thinking one day I will carry his child. 

He groaned at the mention of the family purity, “is that right?” he said in a frustrated tone, “you know as well as I do that this marriage is a duty to our families.” He sighed. “Very well, i’ll take you up on your offer, be my new assistant.”

Your eyes grew wide. You didn’t actually expect him to take that choice, far as you could tell he enjoyed being away from you even if it was at work. “I’ll call my work in the morning. See? Not so bad that I was training Charlie, he can take my place.” You tried to read his face before laying back down, this time closer to the center of the bed.

He turned off his lamp again, “let it be done. But remember, as my new assistant, I won't go easy on you.” He teased, there was a small smile on his face he couldn’t straighten out.

You reached out to pinch his ear, “don’t let it get to your head. I’m still your equal as your wife. Don’t forget about that.” You turned your back to him once again, closing your eyes.

His smile only got bigger at how fierce you were being, he must have struck a chord. He has never seen you so jealous. “Yes, yes… of course my love.” he mocked in a quiet voice as he inched closer to you, laying by your side. Not making much contact, but enough to tease you. You rolled your eyes, he only ever used pet names to tease you. You wanted them to mean something. You remembered the way he came out of the shower, you thought about his wide shoulders, his collar bones.. You scoot your ass closer to his hips. Two can play at that game.

Mattheo’s breath hitched, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m trying to sleep. Goodnight.”

He was so close to snapping at you, but he didn’t want to take the bait, “night.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next morning you woke up early to call and explain why you were leaving the ministry. You had to come up with a solid unsuspecting excuse. Mattheo’s family would not be too happy with it, being their spy and all, but if it meant my marriage could be successful, so be it. 

You were at the dining room table, it was empty. Everyone in the manor wouldn’t wake up for another half hour or so. Yet there was Mattheo in his black suit, “morning.” He found it amusing you were already ready for the day. He looked you up and down, a wave of lust surged through him. He thought you looked quite lovely, he almost said it outloud but resisted the urge.

“Good morning Mr. Riddle, sir.” You stood up, pulling his seat out. You rolled my eyes, but smiled sweetly at him, “I’m ready for my first day.”

He chuckled softly at how polite you were being, “are you now? And what are you looking forward to most today?”

One of the maids came by to set mattheo’s breakfast down. I smiled at her and waited until she left before continuing, “Sir, I'm looking forward to you firing your current assistant… in front of me.” You batted your lashes at him. Knowing you were going to meet her for the first and last time, you took extra care in how you looked.

“You really want to witness her losing her job, don't you?” He bit the corner of his mouth. 

“She should have watched the way she was acting with you, if she really cared about her job security.” Our blended family began to slowly trickle into the dining room, you laid a hand on Mattheo’s shoulder. you kissed his head. We made the appearance of a blissful marriage around them, not wanting a rift to occur between the families, “I'll meet you at the car in 15, darling.”

He tried his hardest to maintain his facade as you kissed him and left. He again watched you walk away, your perfect figure made his body tingle with desire once more. He excused himself from the table.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Mattheo turned the car off and unbuckled his seatbelt first to get out so he could open your door, “are you ready, my dear?” he questioned though he knew the answer. He didn’t think there would be any hesitation from you in regards to what was about to happen.

You nodded, straightening out your skirt. You followed him into the building. You felt uneasy to be around so many people who have caused harm and were plotting to do more. At least your family was safe, as long as you were with the Riddles.

Mattheo noticed and held your hand as he led you to his office, “Nothing is going to happen to you.” He offered you a chair in front of his desk before going around to sit at the main chair.

You couldn’t help but smile, you let it drop just as quick too. It’s all just part of the agreement. If something were to happen to you, poof~ there goes the bloodline. 

“Good morning, Mattheo.” A woman with a sickly sweet, sickly high pitched voice said with the entry.

He gave her a brief glimpse, he could already tell he would get a headache. His assistant was wearing a tight fitting top with a ridiculously short skirt, she was pouring him a cup of coffee.

You watched as his eyes followed her, gripping tightly at the chair’s arm. Draco was right, no one in their right mind would think of dressing that skimpy for work, if they were truly just there to get shit done. “It’s Mr. Riddle to you.” You said taking your left hand to your chin, making sure your wedding ring was up and front ready to gawk at.

Mattheo looked at you, he loved the way your demeanor was changing. He could see the jealous and possessive energy oozing off of you. He found it quite intriguing, a part of him wanted to test your limits. He reached out to accept the cup of coffee from his assistant, “is it just like how I like it?” “Yes Mr. Riddle. Just how you like it” she said, leaning over to him, finishing the stir. This made her skirt even tighter and her breasts were there to peep into.

You stared at Mattheo hard, expecting him to say something to the woman. He felt you, he had to admit he also was quite displeased at how his assistant behaved around him, but it was all fun and game.

“Now, what do I have scheduled for today?”

Before the woman could answer you interrupted. “I know one thing you have scheduled, Mattheo.” You tapped your foot. You needed her gone. Now. Draco - you’ll have to thank him at the next dinner party. You should have done something sooner. You can’t believe your husband was letting this slut work around him, dictating what he did by the hour.

Mattheo’s eyebrows slightly rose in surprise, he was a bit caught off guard at your interruption. He was so amused by how impatient you had become.

“Well we do have a meeting to go with the Boyles in an hour, can this wait?” His assistant said puffing her chest out to make it appear larger. You hated that she said we instead of you. That bitch. You got up from your seat, going around the desk to stand behind Mattheo. You snaked both arms over his shoulders and down his chest.

He held back a groan as your soft touch distracted his thoughts for a moment. He loved that you were making it clear he was yours. He snapped out of it when he remembered he was still in the presence of his assistant so he looked back at her, all the mock gone from his voice, “i’ll be quick… You’re fired. You're no longer needed here.”

The blood drained out of the woman’s face, her shoulder’s immediately fell. You gave her a fake condolences look.

“W-wuh why? What did I do? Is this because of the office party last week? It won’t happen again, it was wildly inappropriate.” She composed herself, taking a stab at you with the last portion. You brought your hands to Mattheo’s shoulders and squeezed hard slowly, as to not bring attention to the action.

His eyes darkened, “You knew the rules. My father specifically told you when you started not to try anything with me. But even after making it clear, you still chose to try and make a move on me at my own party.” His voice was deep, hiding the amusement that lay underneath.

Even though you hated the confession, you couldn't help but appreciate Mattheo’s honesty. You lessened the grip on his shoulders, rubbing out the part you dug in your nails as a way of saying thank you.

“I was so drunk Mr. Riddle. I’m terribly sorry. I really need this job. I thought you were needing something else…I thought you weren’t getting pleased right. Mattheo, I'm sorry don’t fire me.” You wanted to scream as she pleaded. You can hear the poison off the back of her tongue. Seriously, that Bitch! With that comment you returned to dig your nails into Mattheo.

“My needs are none of your concern.” Mattheo spat at her, but she was right. He has been craving a certain kind of touch for far too long now. He did enjoy a good begging, no matter who it came from, but he wasn’t going to go against his marriage. 

You felt him hold your left hand, flipping it so that both the back of your hands were facing the woman, he was showing your matching rings, “I am perfectly happy in my marriage.” You couldn’t help but wonder if he meant that, or if it was just for show. I was happy too wasn’t I?

The woman looked at your hands that were pressed together, despite her disappointment, she knew there was nothing she could do so she bit her tongue and nodded in response. You watched her every movement, as she collected herself. She still didn’t bother pulling down her skirt or buttoning up her shirt, it was as if she still wanted Mattheo to see what he would have missed out on. To leave this image with him as a parting gift.

He simply stared at the clock, “you have three minutes to collect your things before security arrives to escort you out of the building. Do not leave anything behind because it will be incinerated. My father will deal with your severance…if he gives you anything. Especially after I tell him why I had to fire you.”

She turned to the door, stole a glance back at Mattheo, and left the room. You stayed put behind Mattheo. You didn’t want him to see your face just yet. You needed to cool down. 

He groaned loudly and leaned back into your touch, rubbing a hand over his face, “I don’t even know why I kept her for so long. She wasn’t even that good at her job” he smirked, still wanting to test you.

“Don’t play stupid, I know I won't. Clearly there was something going on!” You scoffed, “to think you were getting so mad at Draco for warning me!”

He took your hand pulling you over to sit on his lap, “there was absolutely nothing going on. I didn’t ask her for anything outside of work related things. I would have never let her touch me, she thought I was unhappy in our marriage.”

“Why would she think you were unhappy hmm? Why was she assuming, let’s be honest, she assumed correctly that you weren’t getting needs met. How were you acting with her, tell me now.” You couldn’t help but feel like a little girl on his lap, a little girl who was throwing a tantrum for not wanting to share a beloved stuffed animal.

He rested his chin on your shoulder as he spoke into your ear, “it was probably because I was often short tempered with her, but I promise it was mostly due to her not doing her job correctly.” His lips brushed against your neck.

Yeah that kind of sounds like Mattheo, he liked things done a certain way, and he didn’t like when it veered off the track. But then again, even in school he was a massive flirt. So how much was the tension between the two due to his short temper and how much was his charm? 

“She’s not worth even a moment of your thought.” He mumbled against your ear, sending a shiver down to your core. He placed a gentle kiss right under your jaw. His hands ran down your thighs, squeezing ever so lightly.

You let out a faint moan, “Mattheo…” You couldn’t remember exactly the last time you were like this, it was very rare. While in school, you remembered how everyone wanted him. He allowed them to play games with him, he loved to toy with them too. But the girls knew, they ultimately knew they had no chance ending up with him. Our arranged marriage wasn’t a secret. 

He continued to press kisses over your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking gently on your skin, enjoying the way your body responded to his touch. He grabbed one leg and forced you to face him, your knees now on either side of his thighs, straddling him. He then wordlessly cast a spell on the door with his wand, so it wouldn’t be opened. He didn’t even look at the door, he didn’t need to carefully aim. You could feel your core getting embarrassingly wet at the simple gesture. “Mattheo, we shouldn’t..” you panted. 

“Maybe you’re right…” He responded, though he didn’t stop his ministrations. He captured your lips with his, kissing you hungrily as he pressed his body against yours. His hands exploring over your body. 

You let your hands go up the back of his neck, tugging at his dark curls. They were so soft and velvety. Fuck. He felt so good, you could feel him press against yourself. You forgot how big he was, you wanted to just dry hump him to feel satisfied with yourself right now. You couldn’t bring yourself to it, you tried to speak between his hasty sloppy kisses, “Matty…you do have a meeting soon.”

He loosened his grip ever so slightly, “then do your job. and cancel. it.” He said through gritted teeth, planting kisses on your collarbone. Without looking he pulled his phone closer to you. He hoped you would make the right choice.

You nodded shifting in his lap, earning a groan. What a start to my new job. “What’s the extension to Boyle’s assistant?” You grabbed the receiver trying to hold it and keep your breath steady. Mattheo whispered it against your ear lobe. You grew impatient once more as you continued to hear it ring on the other end. C’mon answer.

“Hello, how may I direct your call?”

“Hi um” you looked down at Mattheo’s sweet brown eyes that were following you, pleading with yours, you tried to get him to pause with his lip exploration for a second, “I’m Mr. Riddles’ new assistant - we..I..we..sorry he needs to” damn ..girl I NEED TO! Mattheo muffled his own giggle with his hand. Enjoying how you kept messing up, obviously your mind has started to get clouded.

“Y/N/N?” The woman on the other receiver said, your old nickname from school.

“Oh my god, Daphne? Hey! I didn’t recognize your voice…!”

He watched you with slight amusement.

Daphne started to ramble on about how she started at this job, on any other day you would have totally loved to entertain her and catch up. You got along very well, but you cut her off as she explained, “um Daphne, we should go out for some coffee soon, we can talk then. It’s just that Mattheo needs the meeting with the Boyles rescheduled.”

“Oh..okay..is everything alright? It was an important meeting…”

Not as important as this.

“Everything is fine, is there a different time we can meet? Push it back a couple more hours?” You looked over at his schedule that his previous slut of an assistant left. You both ended up agreeing on a later time, you quickly thanked her and said goodbye. You clicked the receiver down, putting the do not disturb on for good measure too. 

“Where were we?” you shyly said, looking at his eyes that were gleaming with desire and excitement.

“I was thinking we could restart from here..” He readjusted you back on his lap, slipping a hand under your skirt skimming along the line of your panty. 

You missed his touch, his hands could sometimes be so cold to the touch that they felt like they left a burning trail. He pulled back slightly, picking you up by your ass to set you down on the edge of his desk. He used his hands to open your legs wider, ever so gently “Is it okay if I touch you right here?” you were already nodding before he finished, “Use your words with me. Do you want me to touch you here?” He padded his thumb against your core, still over your panties. “Yes Mattheo, please please touch me.” 

“That’s my girl.” He smiled proudly, he could already feel the want and need pouring off of you, and it was driving him equally if not more insane. He pushed your skirt up higher, revealing yourself to him. Ran his hands over your hips massaging them as you had done the night before. They felt so soft and squishy. 

You couldn’t help but throw your head back, leaning on your forearms. You moved your head forward to look at him when he retracted his hands. He had sat back down in his chair, admiring how he had you. You felt like you were under a microscope, to be so exposed. You tried pressing your legs back together.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, “don’t hide. Let me see you.” he pushed your knees back apart to regain his view. He pulled your dominant hand forward, he also leaned forward so you could touch the side of his face, “show me how you please yourself.” He watched with a hungry expression, clearly enjoying how you blushed and got flustered. Mattheo gently rubbed his thumb along your burning cheek softly, then traced it against your bottom lip asking for entry, “there’s no need to be shy with me, my love.” His voice was sweet and soft, “I promise I wont judge you, you are my wife after all.”

You let his thumb go into your mouth. You sucked on it, not once breaking eye contact, “shit y/n, that’s my pretty princess.” with his free hand he slid underneath his own pants and readjusted himself into a comfortable position. He took your dominant hand once more, putting it over your core. “Show me.”

You hesitated again to make a move on yourself, Mattheo pulled his thumb out of your mouth so he could wrap his hand around your neck, “don’t make me say it again.”

Oh my shit. “Sorry” you managed to choke out through his alternating grip intensity. You went over your panties to play yourself. You were so wet. Your hand was shaking with nerves as you rubbed over your entrance, letting your slick arousal coat them before moving them between your folds and finally at your clit. Mattheo was looking down at your movements. The hand that wasn’t around your neck, he helped by holding your panties out of the way, “so pretty, you’re glistening.”

“You..you have this effect on me Matty. This is all for you.”

“Good, you’re mine.” He choked you hard then lessened it once more, “and i'm yours.” He kissed you again before watching you play with yourself. You kept rubbing your clit for him. He let go of your neck, you felt your blood rush back to your brain. Mattheo unbuttoned your top, unclasped your bra and started to play with your breasts. Alternating and teasing each nipple. “So perfect.” He grinned against your nipples, biting it and blowing cool air on it. You yelped and he covered your mouth, “shhh.” He unlatched himself from you and sat down. He rubbed himself through his pants before undoing his belt. His eyes never left your wet core, it was purring for him.

He let out a small sign, laughing. You felt insecure for a split second, “what?”

“Nothing..you’re just doing..it wrong”

“Huh?”

“Here let me help you, princess. I’ll show you how I'd do it.” he moved his chair closer, moving your hand away. He just rubbed the middle and ring finger along your heat, it grant him a moan, “y/n, as much as I love hearing you like this. You’ve gotta stay quiet.”

You bit your lip hard, “I’ll try Mattheo but..”

“None of that, you must do as I say.” he gently inserted one finger inside you, curling it up against your wall. You moaned louder. He whipped his single digit out, “you’re so needy, even with a single finger? Sweet Salazar, what am I going to do with you? You’re hopeless.” He let out a haughty laugh.

“Baby..please.” You watched him stand up, taking his belt off the loops of his pants. You thought he was finally doing to give you what you wanted most, but instead he just wrapped it around your head, tightening it around your mouth, closing it.

“I’m really sorry I have to do this baby girl, but you just wont keep your mouth shut.” He wasn’t a bit sorry, you can tell by how he looked down at the sight of you. He was actually quite pleased. He gave you a kiss on the forehead, it was a sharp contrast to the leather belt wrapped around your mouth. Seeing you like this was beyond his wildest dreams, gagged before him. Mattheo sat back down continuing where he left off, but this time he inserted two of his fingers. He didn’t allow you to adjust to them. The belt indeed muted your cry. It hurt, you didn’t dare use two of your own fingers on yourself, and here he was with hands that were twice the size of yours.

“You’re doing so well for me, princess.” He whispered, inserting his fingers all the way and pulling them out the same. You felt a tear running down your cheek. He began to rhythmically curve them when they were inside you. The pain was quickly subdued with pleasure. You laid back on the desk arching yourself so he could go in deeper, “so now you want more huh?”

Still fingering you, he went back to suck on your nipples. He towered over you, you shook your head, “what is it?” He looked at your concern. You looked at his fully clothed body, wrapping your hand around his tie. You were naked, apart from your skirt, but it was so bunched up at your hips it didn’t matter. You couldn’t  be the only one bare right now, you want to see his body, “how are you still bossy with your mouth shut?” He laughed, pushing your hand away, “news flash, I’m your boss now. You don’t tell me what to do.”

Despite his words, he did take off his tie first, wrapping it around your wrists, goddammit, before taking off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt only half way. You could look at his chest that was peaking. You felt yourself drool against the belt.

He sat back down and continued to finger you relentlessly. He pulled out and tasted his fingers, “too bad you’re gagged. I would have liked you to taste yourself. At least I have your cunt to myself.” he welcomed himself into you again. He slowly ran his warm tongue up your slit, stopping at your clit. He did this a couple of times. It was so agonizing. Your eyes were bobbing around unable to stay open. With your hands tied you were still able to hold his head down to stop and focus on your clit.

Mattheo would have swatted your hands away, but he needed your touch as well. He wanted to make you feel amazing, he wanted you to forget your name and only respond to “wife”. But god did he also just want to already bury his cock deep inside you to feel some relief. He needed to be patient.

Your breath began to get shallow and unsteady. He groaned against your clit, your pussy was repeatedly clenching around his fingers, indicating you were close. 

His lips curled devilishly, he was thinking about denying your orgasm. He only wanted you to cum on his cock and nothing else. The only reason why he didn’t is because he loved the taste of you too much to stop, “you can do it, doll. Come for me let me taste it.”

You began to shake and grab a fist full of curls as you came. He gradually slowed down, helping you ride out your orgasm. You felt so relaxed.

He looked so full of himself. He pulled his face away from you, his lips were red and swollen from his own work. Mattheo held up his right hand, the one that was fingering you, you could see the wetness on it. 

With his clean hand he pulled down his pants and underwear in one quick motion. Rubbing his cock with his right hand, letting your cum wet it. He used two fingers to beacon you over, before he realized you couldn’t move.  He left your wrists still tied, and pulled you forward onto your feet. “Look me in the eye, princess. Do you promise to be quiet now?” 

You could only nod. That was enough for him, because he had other plans to occupy your mouth. He removed the belt around your mouth. With your still bonded hands you wiped the spit around your mouth, “God, damn.”

He laughed, “I don't remember being called God before, but you can't continue with its use.” 

Before you could reply with something snarky, he pushed you down onto your knees and had the tip of his cock at your lips, “Sorry, I can’t actually trust you to be quiet, so open wide and take it.”

You obeyed. Though you could only take nearly half of it before it started your gag reflex, “i love that sound baby,” he signed, “is it too big for you?” He didn’t really care for an answer, of course it was. It would have just inflated his ego more. 

“C’mon and let me in more.” slobber just kept going down your chin and onto your breasts. He bucked his hips at the sight, “you’re so fucking pretty.” Mattheo gathered your hair into two bunches, using them as handlebars. He was straight throat fucking you at this point. You began to feel faint, and he saw it too, so he pulled his cock all the way out allowing you to breathe. “You’re doing so good.” He kissed you on the lips, using his shirt to help clean your chin.

You were just about to say thank you when he reinserted his cock into your mouth. You pull your head back and he actually allows you. With your bound hands you stroke the portion of his cock that you couldn’t take in, pumping it. Admiring the veins running down it . You wrap your lips around his lip, swirling your tongue around. His precum was like a classified drug to you, it was so delicious. You kept at your pace wanting more to come out, “you’re obsessed” Mattheo pointed out thrilled.

“Talk to me, love” He touched your ear lobe. 

You spoke to him with his cock still in your mouth, so it slurred your speech, “yob ase s’ gob.” 

He chuckled but groaned with the vibrations your voice made, “what was that?”

You stopped sucking, “you taste so good!” you smile at him. This brought him to his knees, literally he kneeled beside you, he removed the tie around your wrists rubbing them for you. Both your eyes are on the same level now.

“You really are beautiful.” He said causing you to blush. “Don’t turn all shy on me now, princess.” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear in a soft gesture. “We’re far from being shy with each other right now.” Mattheo kissed you.

“I just like hearing you say that, my king.”

With a voice filled with affectionate warmth, “when you call me that it makes me want to keep you by my side forever, my precious princess.” He began to kiss you harder, “I want to keep you forever.” He pushed his soft side out of the way and pushed you onto your knees in front of him You arched your back so your ass was in the air, “this is what you fucking teased me with last night.”

You laughed, “yeah I know.”

“So you wanted this bad huh?”

“Yess Matty I want you.” 

He admired the scene in front of him. He kneaded your ass, biting it and making your cry again. “Don’t make me use the belt again.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet now.” You cupped your own mouth. You saw his jacket on the floor and took it under your head.

“You’re so obedient, it's very good. How haven’t I bred you sooner? I want you pregnant with the next Riddle heir.” He ran a hand slowly over your back, gently but possessively.

“I have actually been thinking the same thing. My body is ready for your seed, im..im ready for it.”

When you agreed with his wish it only made something in him pop, something shifted in Mattheo’s eyes. The hunger and desire growing. 

He spat out at your spread exposed pussy, as if it wasn’t already sopping wet. He just liked the idea of having his bodily fluids in you. He rubbed his full length on the outside of your slit, teasing you, “you think your tiny pussy can take my cock better than your mouth?”

Shit…actually that was an honest question. The few times you tried already, you were only able to take in 3/4th of his length before tearing and asking him to stop. Plus you both haven’t fucked in a long while, “Matty, I’ll try by best…” you sounded a little uneased. 

He pulls on your arm turning you to look behind at him, “We don't have to rush this. But I promise i’ll make it good for you if you let me. You’re my wife and you will be the mother of my children soon enough.” He let go of you, bending over to kiss your shoulder blades, biting them roughly before going to your ear, “I’ll try to take it slow, but I really need you to take all of me in, darling. I need my seed to make it directly into your womb. I don’t want it to possibly drip out. You can do it.”

You moaned at his words of encouragement, you will try your best. He continued to stroke your hair, “listen to me: you’re my everything. And I won't let you get hurt, okay?” He kissed your temple, “if it is too unbearable, just tell me and I'll stop. Nothing is more important to me than your comfort and trust…but I do want you to give me a baby. A couple of them.” He laughed like his usual self, “so please try hard to take me like a good girl.” 

You pulled at his hair harshly, “just fuck me Riddle.” with that he slapped your ass leaving a red welt in the shape of his hand and squeezing it to lengthen the pain, “atta girl”. He finger fucked you a little bit more before realigning the tip of his dick to your hole. 

You closed your eyes, and he began to press into you. It wasn't so bad, actually it already felt amaz - -- okay nevermind. He felt you squeeze around him, and he stopped to reassess the situation, “please princess, let me in.”

“Matty I don’t…I dont think I can” you gripped onto his jacket for dear life.

“You can and you will.” He reached over to rub your clit, it helped relax you and he kept sinking deeper and deeper in you. You bit the jacket. It was a crazy mix of pain and pleasure.

“There we go.” he was satisfied, he was finally balls deep inside you, “see I knew you could do it.” He stayed still trying to let your pussy try to adjust around him, “you’re so fucking tight. Actually, I was having second thoughts, but here we are.” He said proudly kissing your neck from behind.

“You’re so fucking huge Mattheo, you’re too good to me.” 

“I adore you” he whispered, “there’s no one else like you. You’re…you’re the love of my life. Both our parents saw that before we did. They knew we were meant for each other when they arranged our marriage.” He groaned as you squeezed him purposefully this time.

“I love you Mattheo. I do.” You manage, your words felt true to each other. With a tender grip he starts  to move his hips slowly away from you only to slam back in. Watching your face for any sign you wanted him to stop but all he got was a smile and, “I’ll give you as many children as you want.”

Without proper warning he quickened his pace holding you face down to the floor. You closed your eyes tightly, locking your jaw. You inhaled his smell through his jacket. Pain was being replaced with a pleasurable numbness. Your brain was going utterly stupid, “make me pregnant Mattheo. Let me make you into a proper daddy.” 

He chuckled at that, “fucking take my dick then. I’ll make you the most beautiful mommy there is. You're such a good wife and I know you’ll be the best mother to my children.”

Mattheo pressed his hand just under your belly button, he took one of your hands and pressed it there with you, “can you feel my cock, darling? You can feel it through your tummy.”

“Yes I can. I feel so full.” You moan.

His grunt and thrusts began to get sloppy, his balls slapping against your clit. It made you roll your eyes behind your head, “princess, I think…” 

“Me too, let's cum together. Let's mix ourselves more.” You raised your ass higher, tilting it ignoring the back pain you were getting.

“I’m going to fill you up even more,” he whimpered, his voice faltering as if he was about to cry, “don't let anything drip out. Take it all in okay?” You nodded, holding your head up and twisting it so uncomfortably around to the side so you can watch him release himself into you. What a sight for sore eyes. 

His curls were plastered onto his forehead with sweat, his cheeks were flushed. Mattheo’s eyes looked back at your eyes with a longing you haven't seen before, “I love you Y/N. thank you thank you thank you.” He began to repeat, as he shot a large load into you. He was right, you could feel your tummy grow already. You followed shortly after, squeezing and milking his cock out more.

His breath was coming out in ragged gasps as he came down from his climax. His body was trembling, but he held you tightly. His face buried in the crook of your neck, “that was incredible.” He looked at you with adoration and contentment, “you’ve given me everything i’ve ever wanted. Thank you.”

“Thank you for choosing me after all.”

Mattheo was about to pull out, but you didn’t allow him. You pulled at his shirt, making him spoon you on the floor. You wanted to warm his cock, but also use it to continue plugging in his cum inside of you, to be marinated. You told him this too, and he flushed, “hey you said we wouldn’t be getting shy with each other, it’s too late for that.” He laughed making his dick still twitch inside you, you let out a moan. He grinned mischievously. You gave him an uncertain look.

Mattheo looked at the clock “yeah we should probably just move the meeting to a different day.”

“Do I really have to call it in again?”

“Yes yes you do, you’re my new assistant remember?” 

“Yeah and soon to be the mother of your children too.”

He wrapped his arms around you in a loving embrace. “I promise to take care of you and our little ones,” he said with sincerity, “You’ll be the most beautiful, loving mother, and I'll support you every step of the way.”

He tugged on the phone’s cord, pulling it so that it drops on the floor beside the two of you, “go on call again. Move it for next week.” He starts kissing your jaw again, moving his hips and slithering his hand back to your clit, “I hope you didn’t think we were finished, I think I can give you more of my cum to hold.”

“Mattheo…” 

[muqingslover]

[ This is different than what I usually post but I had to get this out of my system. The new DMC show brought back so many memories and idc what the haters say it's PEAK.

Anyway, to the DMC lovers out there, please accept this humble offering ]

Being in a relationship with Dante. | some NSFW included.

⊹— He may be the best demon hunter but in a relationship? He's the BIGGEST loser. Dante is always throwing some lame pick-up line your way and believe me when I say he will not give up until one sticks. (Spoiler warning: The fact that it actually works only makes him want to do it again)

—⊹ Dating Dante is not for the faint hearted. You have to be ready for all kinds of beyond ridiculous situations and have a godly amount of adaptability.

⊹— He will ALWAYS answer the phone for you. Literally. It doesn't matter what he's doing or where he is he will pick up the second he sees your name on the screen.

"Babe? Oh yeah! I'm totally still up for dinner! By the way, can you add those pieces of chocolate again to— *Approaching yelling in the background* Just a sec! *Crashing sounds and gunshots* Whew, okay, anyway like I was saying—"

—⊹ Oh yeah, he loooooves using pet names and silly nicknames. His personal favorites are "Babe" and "My little luck charm".

⊹— He likes to give you "traditional" dating gifts because that's what he always saw others do so when he shows up with a big ass teddy bear and a box of chocolates (which by the way he definitely ate some before giving it to you) please tell him you love it.

—⊹ Bro is so competitive. Dante is NOT letting you win in card games or any other board games because he wants to show off his skills to you. Though, if you get genuinely upset he would feel bad and invite you to play video games with him because he fails miserably at them every time.

⊹— His hands grab your ass every time you hug him. Not even in a sexual way he just can't help it and he never fails to throw a "nice ass" right after.

—⊹ Missing jewelry, hat or belt from your closet? He's the culprit. This guy will wear anything as long as he believes he looks good in it. I pray for you if you guys are a similar size because then you will have full clothing pieces missing.

⊹— He is THE hype man. Dante kisses the ground you walk on and he supports your rights and rights (because you could never do any wrong ;)).

—⊹ Dante's favorite thing is to show you off in every opportunity he gets. And if he doesn't have the opportunity then he'll just do it anyway. He is constantly yapping about how incredibly hot his partner is, how good your cooking is, how cute you look when you're focused and the way you smell so damn good all the time like, man! You're a freaking gift from the gods! (someone save poor Lady she can't bear to listen to him any more)

⊹— Please also hype him back in return! He has the worst praise kink case I've ever seen. Each time he's praised he just doesn't know what to do with himself and despite the initial cocky attitude he is easy to overwhelm if you don't stop. The first time you praised him while patting his head or scratching his chin he got a hard-on and had to rush out with a poor excuse before you noticed it.

—⊹ There is nothing romantic about sharing a bed with him. It's an absolute nightmare. First of all, this guy is physically incapable of sleeping with his clothes on. He just can't do it. Dante used to sleep butt ass naked but then you convinced him to at least wear boxers. Next on the list of problems is the snoring— Like, it's so loud you thought there was a truck engine next to you instead of your boyfriend. Not to mention the fact he takes up all space on the bed and moves around SO MUCH while he's asleep.

Please invest in separate beds before you kill him.

⊹— Absolutely hates morning. Getting him out of bed is the hardest thing to do and that's saying a lot with the life you two lead. He will keep you trapped in bed with him by wrapping his strong arms around your waist only to when you get up he sloooowly slides off the mattress and onto floor like a worm hanging to you.

—⊹ Surprisingly, or not, very insecure. This man is not controlling in any way though, he is just very worried that he won't be able to protect you if something was to happen or that you will realize you made a mistake by being with him.

⊹— His favorite thing is to make you smile. I know a lot of people paint him as stupid but I genuinely think he just acts silly as a defense mechanism. It's a mask. With you, though? He will purposely act like a dork because he knows it makes you smile.

—⊹ To add to that, Dante does everything he can to keep your spirits up; Someone hurt your feelings? No need to fret, he’s already planning their downfall. Feeling under the weather? tickle monster time! Migraine? He is closing the curtains and cuddling you until it gets better!

⊹— The filter between his brain and mouth is naturally bad but with you, who he is truly comfortable with, it's just INEXISTENT. This may range from random, useless bullshit to out of pocket comments that should definitely not be said out loud.

—⊹ Physical contact is his thing. I mean, he NEEDS it and can be very high maintenance about it. Having his hands on you is not enough for Dante he has to be as close as physically possible and you need to be giving him some kind of attention in return.

⊹— Hugging you from behind when you're cook, snuggling while on the couch together, keeping a firm arm hooked around your waist while outside, constantly nuzzling his nose on your hair, kissing your neck at every chance he gets, pulling you into his lap as if it's his second nature ECT.

—⊹ Did I mention he adores your hair? In particular long hair because then he can fidget with it by twirling it around his finger or by being a dork and putting it between his lips and nose to make a mustache.

⊹— Your lips are like a drug to him. He will be saying "okay, okay I REALLY gotta bail now" and then stare at you for a solid two seconds then steal another kiss and another and another....oops, he's 30 minutes late already.

—⊹ Dante is a biter. God help you when you give him cuteness aggression (which is basically always) because he will chew on you like candy. Your skin is often red from teeth marks and he doesn't feel sorry about it at all.

⊹— Cannot cook to save his life but absolutely loves your food. Especially if you're good at baking! Man's scarfing down those sweet treats like it's his last meal on earth.

—⊹ He sings while he's showering and holds the bottle of shampoo to you like a microphone so you'll join him. Oh and yes, he is VERY tone-deaf.

⊹— No matter how many times he sees you naked he never gets tired of that blessed sight. He flirts with you like it's the first time he's seeing you and those naughty eyes speak for themselves.

—⊹ He has a high libido, especially in the beginning of the relationship where he's even more excitable than usual. Sex can be very clumsy and messy with him, but that's just what makes it so him.

⊹— If you're a breasty lady, he is reaaaaaally into you using your boobs to get him off. Dante also enjoys having your lips around his cock more than words could describe and a quickie in dark, tight spaces is part of the package with him.

—⊹ Bondage is a guilty pleasure of his. Dante prefers to be the one restrained and left at your mercy instead of the other way around because it's just very hot to him when you take control. You're also the only one he would trust to be this vulnerable with.

⊹— This guy is always late for EVERYTHING, but he shows up without a fail in the end. No matter how battered or tired he might be, not even if he was run over by a truck, he will definitely be there.

[luveline]

spencer x reader where she kisses his forehead and he’s 🥹🥹

“Spencer, are you dead?” 

Spencer ignores your question by accident. Heavy head in hand, he’s slowly sinking closer and closer to the hotel breakfast table to rest. His neck twinges with the effort it takes to stay up. 

“Spencer,” you say more sharply. 

His eyes track like the air is honey. He settles on your sluggishly while offering no greeting, tiredness pulling at him. “My eyes hurt,” he offers. 

“Make you some tea.” 

“Um, okay.” He’s disappointed when you leave, then dozing, face pressed to his desk as itchy eyes press along lids. It feels as though his eyelashes have turned inward. 

You return with a cup. Spencer grabs it blindly, lifts his head to squint one eye open. “What?” he asks. 

There isn’t tea in the cup. There are tea bags, two of them, wetted and leaking tan beige along the white china of the mug. Distinctly no tea. You must be tired too. 

“They’re for your eyes, Spence. They’ll make your eyes hurt less. The caffeine restricts your blood vessels to calm the inflammation, and the tea itself soothes sore skin.” 

“How do you know that?” he asks. 

You rest a hand on his shoulder. “I read about it in a book of modern home remedies. It really works. Here, can you tip your head back?” 

Spencer is very, very tired, but your voice is nice, your fingertips gentle against his neck, so he tips his head back. He doesn’t know how terrible he looks, having forgotten his untucked shirt, his rumpled sweater vest, his hair sticking up all over the place. 

“Close your eyes,” you murmur. 

Spencer shuts them. 

“It’s cold,” you warn, “but it’ll feel nice.” 

Spencer doesn’t care. He waits for you to move. The tea bags you place on his closed eyes feel cold and at first they sting just a touch, perhaps tea finding its way through his lashes, and he can’t confess to noticing a difference in soreness. 

“Hey… what’s this? It looks like it hurts?” you ask, drawing a short line over the side of the bridge of his nose. There’s an indent there that feels like a bruise.

“I fell asleep at my desk with my glasses on,” he says. “They dug in.” 

“You were up late, I’m guessing. Maybe you should go back to the room.” 

“No, I can’t. I’ll be okay. Thank you for the… tea.” 

Your hand rests tentatively against his cheek. He can’t open his eyes to see what you're feeling, and he doesn’t need to. There’s emotion to be felt in your slow strokes, how your thumb rests along his jaw as your nail scratches to the top of his ear, then behind the shell of it. It’s intimate enough to summon a different kind of tiredness. Exhaustion swapped for content. He could sleep in the curve of your palm all day. 

“You’re welcome,” you say. “I’m gonna take them off for a second to check the damage.” 

You take them. Your breath draws near. 

A warmth presses to his forehead atop his left eyebrow. Spencer doesn’t know what it is until your nose graces just above it, and your lips part —it’s a kiss. You’re kissing him sweetly, your fingers sewing through his hair. 

He peels his sore eyes open to look at you. You lean back as unhurried as you’d ferried forward, your hand cradling the nape of his neck. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask. 

Spencer stares up at you. In that moment, tired, aching, and balmed, he’s completely in love with you. You must see a little of it, your lips parting again in an unnamed emotion. It’s sheer luck that you’re the only one awake with him, because if any of his teammates saw the way he was looking at you they’d never let him forget it. And, he gets to see your reaction. Your partial smile. 

“Did that help?” you ask. 

You must mean the tea. “I feel better.” 

“Yeah? Do you…” Your voice turns to cashmere, a thread of bemusement tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Would another one be okay?” 

Spencer can only nod as you wrap your arms around him and position your mouth at the soft skin where his hair meets his forehead. When you kiss him again, his eyes flutter shut. 

“You really need some help with your insomnia,” you murmur. 

Spencer wonders if maybe you’d want to be that help. You must have melatonin in your kisses.

[yeah-thats-probably-it]

Hot take maybe but I think Bertie would be FAR more likely to survive the first two months of Dracula than Jeeves would be. Bertie has a healthy sense of self-preservation. Jeeves consistently underestimates how dangerous a situation might get (Steeple Bumpleigh, the club book) because he’s overconfident about his level of control over any given situation. He'd handle Dracula masterfully if they faced off in England, but on Dracula's home turf? Much more doubtful.

I realize this might be a tough sell, so I will explain further (or it's not a tough sell, and I'm going to explain further because I want to). (criteria taken from @canyourfavesurvivecastledracula) Without further ado.

Would Jeeves and Wooster survive Castle Dracula?

Jeeves

Jeeves' survival will depend on how long Dracula finds him more entertaining than irritating. On that basis, I don't think he's long for this world. On the one hand, he has a huge wealth of knowledge about English society and culture that he can recite perfectly from memory. That should buy him at least a little time with noted teaboo Dracula.

On the other hand, he would be absolutely no fun as a vampire plaything. Jeeves cannot be got. Sneaking up on him while he's shaving will yield zero reaction (though that's at least good for his short-term survival--given that, although he DID take the crucifix from the old woman out of politeness, he certainly isn't going to wear it. The rules of fashion don't go out the window just because you're in a spooky castle). Then, although managing the whims of rich jerks is not an insignificant part of a valet's job, Jeeves usually does this by bending his employers to his will. Dracula is not the sort of employer this will work on. It'll just add insult to injury when on top of being impossible to scare, NOW Jeeves is telling Dracula that his favorite cloak is several centuries out of fashion and he's not allowed to wear it anymore.

Jeeves will 100% go exploring in the areas he was told not to go-- though to be fair, he MIGHT actually get away with this, what with his superpower of appearing in rooms without being seen or heard. Said superpower might save him from the brides as well (though this is by no means guaranteed). Since I find it doubtful that Dracula would come to rescue his annoying ass, not being noticed is his best defense.

There are a couple other things working in Jeeves's favor; the question is just whether they'll be enough to save him.

He DOES know shorthand, and could try to send coded letters. He might even have the foresight to squirrel away some extra stationary where Dracula can't find it. But could he get them posted? Would it even do him any good?

He certainly has enough cultural literacy to figure out what his new boss is pretty quickly. If he didn't chuck the crucifix out the carriage window, he might start carrying it around in his pocket.

Psychology of the individual, sure, but the individual in question is a 400-year-old vampire who lives in an isolated castle in a foreign country and is regarded as a terrifying mythological figure in the surrounding villages. Jeeves has never come up against anything this alien before, he's cut off from his normal resources, and opportunities to play people against each other are limited.

He probably has enough upper body strength from all that shrimping and fishing to climb the wall, so he COULD escape if he wanted to, if he survived long enough. It's just, again, that overconfidence, and also Dracula has a vast library full of rare old books that are entirely at his disposal. He's keeping his eyes and ears alert for potential escape strategies, of course, but I don't see him being as desperate to get out as Jonathan was.

There are just a lot of "depends on"s here, and I'm not convinced that luck would shake out in Jeeves's favor, all things considered.

Bertie

Bertie is so perfect for the job of Castle Dracula Prisoner it's like it was made for him. Think about it. Being held against his will in big manor houses comes more naturally to him than breathing. He's afraid of things that are scary. A lifetime of dealing with Aunt Agatha has made him the world's preeminent expert in "curl[ing] up in a ball in the hope that a meek subservience [will] enable [him] to get off lightly." He will NEVER go exploring in places he's been warned away from if nobody is forcing him to (Rev. Aubrey Upjohn's office notwithstanding. There were biscuits in there). He's both fun to talk to and easy to toy with (and extremely English). A+ prisoner. Dracula adores him.

In my opinion, Bertie is at Castle Dracula either because Aunt Agatha got some wires seriously crossed and thinks he’s going to meet an eligible potential bride (I mean, there are certainly brides there), or because Dracula has something Aunt Dahlia wants him to steal (far less likely, given that one of Dracula’s THINGS is famously not owning anything silver). Either way, he's shown himself entirely willing and able to escape down drainpipes if a sitch gets too scaly.

He DOES take the crucifix, and DOES wear it (which is what will save him during the shaving scene, because you KNOW he's going to jump a foot and cut himself like the dickens). He's read enough supernatural goosefleshers to be genre savvy about terrified old women cryptically pushing crucifixes into one's hands. I also think his sunny disposish endeared him to the villagers, and they were particularly vehement about urging him not to go. He doesn't speak German or Romanian, but he's empathetic enough to recognize Pure Terror. So by the time he actually gets to the castle, his imagination is already running wild and he's plenty aware that he is in imminent danger.

I think the biggest risk to Bertie will be the brides; whether or not he's susceptible to trances, if he thinks they're trying to marry him, it's against the code of the Woosters to turn them down. But that only becomes an issue if he comes face to face with them, which, luckily, I think is unlikely on account of the aforementioned "won't go exploring" (and if he did, Dracula would definitely rescue him).

I'm inclined to say due to his drainpipe-escape habits that he WOULD be able to climb the wall and MAY attempt to sneak into Dracula's room to look for the keys if his desperation grows to outweigh his fear. Whether he does or not, though, he does NOT have the stomach to attempt shovel murder, and therefore won't get magic brain fever, and may very well simply walk out the front doors when the people come to take the boxes away. OR he climbs his way out like Jonathan did. Either way.

When Bertie tells this story at the Drones later, Tuppy will say that no doubt it's been greatly exaggerated and all that probably happened was that he spent a couple months in an oldish house entertaining a weird loner.

[itzpookiepooh]

Superstar

You invite the boys to one of your concerts

Buys out the merch stand

Sings your songs louder than everyone else

Definitely gets tickets in the pit (even though you told him he’d be backstage)

Brags that you’re his famous girlfriend (even though he is also famous)

You couldn’t stop smiling as you did your choreography across the stage. Rafayel was the loudest in the crowd making some of your other fans look at him crazy and others sing too. He was supposed to be backstage but he told you that he wanted the full experience which you thought he was crazy for. You felt it would’ve been the same but he didn’t. Everyone was fangirling when he turns to them excitedly pointing to you screaming, “That’s my girlfriend!” Many who follow you on social media believed him some just rolled their eyes thinking he was just another fan.

“Before we end the show I want to thank my wonderful boyfriend for supporting me tonight!” You blow him a kiss making him swoon as the other fans catch him fanning him off. You simply roll your eyes waving goodbye to everyone.

He simply could not stop telling you how good your show was.

Is backstage nodding his head to your songs

His favorite song is the one you wrote about your relationship with him

He helps you get ready before the show (he’s very particular about what accessories go with which outfit)

Gets flustered when you reveal your unreleased song about him (you blew him a kiss before starting)

You didn’t think Zayne was going to basically be your manager when you invited him but with him here your show ran smoother than it ever had before. You occasionally look over to him as you perform making him give you a small wave. It warmed your heart that he could make it and it felt like you performed better too.

“Okay I want to give you guys something special and no I don’t mean my boyfriend.” You laugh along with the crowd.

“I wrote this song just for him. He’s been amazing tonight and has helped me pull this show off so let’s show him some appreciation!” The crowd roars. You look at him with a smile before blowing him a kiss. He turns his gaze elsewhere but you could see how flushed he was even in this dim light. This would soon been on the internet and talked about for years to come.

Is your biggest fan

Basically your security (even though you hired some)

Stays by you as you do V.I.P meet and greets

Fans know him very well due to him always being around (they chant his name when you say he’s here)

“Caleb be nice.” You scold him as he pushed a fan away from the line for trying to offer home baked goods.

“You never know who’s got parasocial tendencies, pipsqueak.” He retorts before throwing away the container.

“You could at least give her the container back.” You narrow your eyes at him as he digs through the trash to get the container back.

Prefers not to be seen by your fans

Could sleep during the concert due to how beautiful your voice sounds

Does a small dance to your upbeat songs

Forgets he’s getting special treatment and tries to make you both leave early (he wants to avoid traffic)

“Xavier I have a signing to do before I leave.” You giggle tugging back.

“But what about traffic?” He worries, it was like his doggy ears slouched.

“Xavier…my beloved we leave before everyone else.” He blinks slowly at you before nodding.

“Oh.”

He spoils you and the staff the night of the show

Pulls you in private to shower you with affection (for good luck)

Feels like a proud spouse when you preform

Sings along to your songs (he’s pitchy but you don’t mind)

“Sylus I have to go on stage!” You whisper-shout at him.

“Just one more.” He mumbles before kissing you again…and again…and again.

“I can’t postpone it any longer than this!”

I liked this one a little bit ngl

[snoopyracing]

somebody else // ln4

pairing: lando norris X reader

word count: 12k

warnings: cursing, smut (18+) (p in v, no protection, oral, multiple orgasms, a little praise kink if you squint)

includes: toxic!lando, cheating, angst, drama, unreliable narrator lando, and an arthurtv cameo

summary: when you finally decide to stop waiting around for lando and find someone new lando doesn't take it very well. relationships are tested, hearts are broken, and tears are shed, but it seems like things will never work out like you want.

a/n: this is messy af and lando is such an asshole in this. anyways this is loosely based off of somebody else by the 1975. enjoy!!

masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Canadian Grand Prix 2025

Only Lando Norris could be miserable in a five star hotel. The Egyptian cotton four hundred count thread sheets were too scratchy. The air vents were too noisy. The bed was too hard. He could hear every noise from outside. If there was something to complain about or be dissatisfied with– Lando could name it.

The alarm clock on the nightstand kept taunting him– the minutes constantly passing while he tossed and turned. Which– who even really uses a physical alarm clock anymore? He blamed the ‘shitty’ hotel and nerves for the race tomorrow on his restlessness, but the real culprit was a combination of his undiagnosed insomnia and the electronic device that laid on the bed beside him.

The TV, which had horrible channels, played quietly in the background. The screen illuminated the room, yet he couldn’t even tell you what was playing. There’s the option of watching Netflix on his phone, but he was avoiding that thing like the plague. His eyes flickered over to it every minute, or at least that’s what it seemed. Every time the screen lit up or he felt a vibration his heart skipped a beat. Hell, he’d even considered locking it up in the hotel room safe for the night just to be able to try and get some shut eye, but the slight possibility of your name popping back up on his screen again deterred him.

In all honesty Lando knew he was being dramatic, but god the power you held over him just by sending him a single text had him sick to his stomach. 

The text in question had been sent right before qualifying earlier today. Lando was getting ready to leave his driver’s room when a ding echoing through the tiny room stopped him in his tracks. A smile stretched across his face when he saw your name pop up on the screen. He figured it was your usual good luck text so he quickly tapped the notification, but when the message opened his smile faltered and the feeling of giddiness was immediately replaced with dread. 

y/n: hey lan. i know silverstone is coming up and i was wondering if there was any way you could get two extra passes for arthur and me? he’s a big fan and i’d love to give him the full experience!! 

Lando locked his phone and tossed it on the little sofa against the wall, not even caring if it bounced off and shattered. A little part of him hopes it does so then maybe he wouldn’t have to see that guy's name in his phone and in a conversation with you again. His stomach hurts and his mind is in every mode but qualifying mode. God did you just send that to him to fuck with him? To rub your happy and loving relationship in his face? 

He’s not sure why you’re making it seem like you don’t already have a pass for Silverstone. You were in the garage every year and if there was one thing Lando knew was certain it was that there would always be a pass with your name on it and he thought he’d made that clear to you years ago. Not even just for Silverstone though, any race you wanted to go to all you had to do was tell him and there’d be a shiny pass with your name on it.

For your boyfriend though, now that would be a different story. Lando could say the garage would be too full, which in all honesty it will be pretty full. But then he knows if he says that then you’ll just sit in the grandstands with Arthur and not in the garage where you belong. His family will ask where you’re at and then he’ll get that look from his Mother that makes him want to crawl inside his own body. If Lando had it his way your boyfriend wouldn’t even be allowed at the race, let alone in his side of the garage.

Lando truthfully had no reason to hate your boyfriend and Lando wouldn’t say he actually hates him. It’s just that he can’t stand him. Arthur has never been anything but friendly the couple of times Lando has been around him, but Lando can’t stomach thinking of the two of you together, let alone see you with his own two eyes.

It didn’t help that Lando had technically been the one to introduce you guys and if he could do it all over again he would have never invited you to that Quadrant shoot last year. At that point in time it was nothing out of the ordinary for you to tag along with Lando to things and that even included the occasional Quadrant shoot. When you guys pulled up to Buckmore Park that day Lando had no idea he’d at least from his perspective, be losing you. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

August 2024

It was a karting race video with a handful of some popular UK Youtubers, some of whom had already worked with Quadrant in the past. It seemed like it would be a fun filled day and you were excited to ultimately see the chaos that was about to ensue on the track shortly. While everything was being set up you chatted with some of the guys you already knew from previous shoots or events. Invites were thrown around for you to do some videos with them, claiming that you’d fit in well with their group of friends. You replied with a i’ll think about it, fully knowing how rowdy they get in their videos.

As the guys got suited up you made your way outside to find Lando– who wasn’t hard to find at all, with his fluro helmet sticking out like a sore thumb near the pits. “Do you need a good luck before this race?” You teased him as you approached. 

His race suit, which had been swapped out from papaya orange to LN blue and fluro, hung loosely around his hips, the arms flapping in the wind as he turned around at the sound of your voice. “God I hope not. If I don’t win this think I might retire from racing.” He jokes as he does up his race suit. 

“A couple of these guys have their own racing suits. You might have some competition here Lan.” He playfully rolls his eyes at you and you try to keep up the act by simply shrugging your shoulders at him, but the smile on your face cancels out any possibility of you being serious. 

You notice him fidgeting with the collar of his race suit, constantly doing an undoing the velcro. He’d never ask you, but it was an unspoken thing between you two for you to do it for him. He claims he can never get it situated like you do, you beg to differ. Either way you do it when you’re able to and it’s also in your own weird way a comfort thing for you, for you to be able to do one of the last things he does before getting into his car. It’s almost like a little send off and when you smooth your hand over that collar every time, you put every ounce of hope prayers and love– anything you can think of to get him safe and sound back to you. 

Though this time when you go to fix his collar you notice it’s quite tight. “Jeez Lan, been training your neck a little hard recently?” You had perhaps maybe noticed that he had beefed up over the course of the season.

“What can I say, I'm a beast.” He states with a big ole grin on his face. 

Your hands movement halts and you internally cringe over hearing him call himself that. Grabbing one side of the collar you forcefully pull it over and slap it down on the velcro, earning an exaggerated choking sound from Lando. 

“Alrighty then you beast. Let’s see what you’ve got.” 

As the qualifying laps start you watch from the viewing deck with the other guys who are waiting their turn. Cameras seem to be everywhere you turn, the crew not wanting to miss any possible content, some of the guys have go pros and you’re thankful someone hasn’t handed you one yet.

Lando had decided to do his qualifying laps first, to quote on quote show everyone how it’s done. You leaned against the wooden railing, watching intently as he flies by on each lap. The sound of kart engines and the smell of the exhaust bringing you back to simpler times, back to when things weren’t so complicated. 

Before your mind dives any deeper into the topic you’d rather keep locked away, a guy with fluffy brown hair and big brown eyes settles in next to you. Your brain rattles off a list of names, but none of them ring a bell. You’d met a handful of new people today and you’re not afraid to admit your memory can be dodgy at times, but you know you’d remember him. 

“I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Y/N.” You turn your body towards him, and when he turns to look at you the sun hits his eyes just right and their like pools of honey staring back at you. 

“I’m Arthur. It’s nice to meet you.” He extends his hand like a gentleman and you gladly take it in yours. “I do have to admit I knew who you were before you introduced yourself. I hope that doesn’t sound stalkerish.” 

Your head tilts in question. “Not stalkerish, but I am curious how you know me.” 

He kind of laughs like he thinks you’re joking, but when you stare blankly at him he clears his throat and straightens his posture. “Oh well, you know because Lando and you are together.” 

Now it’s your turn to laugh– an awkward forced laugh that you pray Arthur doesn’t catch on to. Many moons ago there was such a thing as Lando and you, but there wasn’t time to dwell on that at the moment. “Oh– we aren’t together.” 

“I’m sorry I assumed since you guys are always seen together.” 

You wave him off, simply wanting to put this part of the conversation in the past as quickly as possible. “It’s fine. It happens all the time. We’ve just been friends for a really long time.” Friends to very brief lovers then back to friends, but Arthur didn’t need to know that. “Anyways, have you ever karted before?” 

It doesn’t take long for you to realize that talking to Arthur is easy and that he actually can hold a conversation, unlike the various guys you’ve talked to before. He’s easy going and smart and you two get so lost in the conversation that you forget that you’re on a video shoot. It’s not until someone forcibly tears Arthur away do you realize just how long you two have been talking. 

The rest of the shoot seems to go by in a whirlwind, yet you made sure to find Arthur before everyone packed up and left. “Hey, I was hoping to see you again before I left.” Arthur states as he sees you approaching him. 

Even though you wanted to see him again, it makes you somewhat giddy to know he felt the same. “Oh is that so?” 

A shy smile stretches across Arthur’s face as he nods at you. “It is and I was hoping to get your number or at least your Instagram?” 

That simple question is what changes your life and inherently changes your relationship with Lando over the course of the year. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The hour or so drive back to your apartment in London is quiet. You’re too absorbed in your phone to notice how tightly Lando’s gripping the steering wheel or how the only sound that does fill the car is that of the radio. You get annoyed by the constant commercials and it’s an unspoken rule that you play the music in the car, yet the UK’s Top 100 plays softly through the speakers. 

Lando acts like you smiling at your phone and hearing you giggle ever so often at it doesn’t bother him, but it totally does. It bothers him to no end and he’s not stupid, he knows exactly what or he guesses he should say who has you acting like this, yet he still does the one thing that he knows will make how he’s feeling worse. 

“Who’s got you so hypnotized by your phone?” 

You barely pay Lando any mind, not even bothering to look up from your phone as you mumble out a huh. You being so nonchalant only makes Lando’s jealousy (he won’t admit that he’s jealous or even internally admit that he is) that much worse. He grips the leather steering wheel of his Lamborghini Urus till his knuckles turn white and ponders if he should even try to continue the conversation, you clearly weren’t in this car with him at the moment.

“You’ve not said a word since we left Buckmore, you’ve been too engrossed in your phone.” He knows he’s probably coming across as a dick right now, but it must have worked because for the first time the whole car ride your eyes leave your phone and now gaze upon him. 

“Sorry, I was texting Arthur. What’s up?” You lock your phone and focus on the Brit next to you, who seemed to be bothered by something, probably the fact that Fewtrell beat him in the race. 

“You guys just met today didn’t you?” Lando pries for information, fully knowing the answers are going to hurt him. 

You feel your phone vibrate in your lap and it takes every ounce of willpower you have to ignore it and keep your attention on Lando. “Yeah, he’s super nice and funny. We’re gonna go out for drinks tomorrow night.” 

Lando feels like his stomach is about ready to fall out of his ass and all he can seem to do is force a smile towards you. “That’s nice.” Is all he can choke out before you’re picking up that damn phone again. He knows he has no right to be like this, to be so bent out of shape over you texting some guy. You’ve dated other guys in the past and technically he was the one to break things off before, but something was different now and god was this driving him insane. 

It’s no use in trying to continue the conversation and so Lando tries to distract himself with other things, but he’s heard the same ad for some injury lawyer five times during this car ride and when it comes up the sixth time he angrily swipes the volume dial to zero.

So now all that he’s left with is his thoughts and you, which just so happen to coincide. The constant buzzing of your phone will surely haunt his dreams tonight and when he drops you off at your apartment and you don’t ask him to hang out he knows things are going to change, if they haven’t already. 

It doesn’t take long for Lando to realize that he’s quickly being replaced in your life. Perhaps it was always destined to happen, it was rare for two young people to remain so close after a breakup, so maybe this was the universe restoring its natural order? But Lando always claimed that you two were different, you had a special bond that not many understood.

Childhood best friends, karting kids, two teenagers who had feelings bigger than themselves that eventually made things messy. Self preservation and self doubt ultimately made those feelings be pushed aside and the love you had for one another was put on the back burner. You both had relationships after whatever you two wanted to call what you had, none of them lasting long enough to actually be considered anything, but hell you weren’t even official with Arthur yet and he felt like he was on the edge of spiraling every time you mentioned him or were seen with him. 

It also didn’t take long for you to be integrated into Arthur’s friend group and for you to start appearing in videos. There were many nights, especially when he was thousands of miles away from home in some foreign country that he would go on a hate watch spree. It would be late at night, his insomnia kicking in, tucked away in his luxurious hotel room with his phone being the only source of light as the Youtube videos play.

He remembers the first time he saw you in a video (thanks to Twitter) and it was like a sucker punch to the gut. He hadn’t seen you in weeks or even really talked to you and when he saw you practically glued to Arthur’s side and with all these random people it was like he didn’t even know you. It hurt because Lando could tell you fit into their world– like you belonged. You always claimed to not like the theatrics and somewhat fakeness or materialistic sides of his life– the things that came with his job. You loved racing and it was the thing that brought Lando and you together, but you hated just about every other aspect of it. 

Lando couldn’t help but feel jealous as he watched more videos. He was living his dream, traveling the globe, living a lavish lifestyle, being known as one of the best racers in the world, and he was jealous of you. Jealous over you going out for drinks and having fun. For being in your twenties and finding a new group of friends to go out with freely. To be able to post some dumb video of you having a good time or being drunk, not caring about the public fallout or what people on the internet had to say about you. There was no public image for you to uphold or a clause in a contract that you had to abide by. 

As time passed Lando tried to focus all his time and energy into racing, trying to ignore the fact that he hadn’t seen you in months or that hadn’t had a proper conversation with you in weeks. It’s pitiful to him that the only way he can seem to get an update from you is through Youtube videos or your social media, which you seem to be using way more frequently now. Guess you can freely post about what you’re up to or where you’re at now since you’re not with Lando all the time. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

February 2025 

When Arthur and you finally decided to make it official to the world, Lando just so happened to be back in London. He was at dinner with Max and his girlfriend and to no one’s surprise the topic quickly gravitated towards you. 

“Have you talked to Y/N lately?” Lando asks as nonchalantly as he can while skimming over the menu. 

Max eyes him from across the table, trying to gauge just how much his answer would affect his best friend. He could lie and say he hasn’t talked to you and that you guys didn’t go out on a double date last week or he could tell the truth. If he knows his best friend, which he thinks he does pretty well– he knows what decision to make.

So he decides to lie. 

“Uh I think she texted me a couple weeks ago, but it was just her asking if I had any extra hoodies from the latest Quadrant drop. I haven’t really spoken to her in some time.” Max hopes Lando doesn’t realize he just pulled that straight out of his ass and the topic of conversation can move to something else. 

Thankfully the waiter comes over to take their orders before Lando can respond, but as soon as they leave Lando’s sitting there with the most pathetic look on his face– just waiting for someone to ask him if he’s talked to you. 

“Have you talked to her?” Max finally asks after having enough of Lando’s melancholy state. 

Lando sighs a big long sigh and Max can’t help but give a little side eye over to his girlfriend. “Actually no I haven’t. I’ve barely talked to her or seen her since she became friends with Arthur.” 

Max internally cringes hearing him refer to Arthur and you as friends. The poor guy didn’t even know you two were together, but he wasn’t going to be the one to drop that bomb. In fact he was instructed to not tell Lando that you were in a relationship– it was a secret he’d been harboring for a couple months now.

Unfortunately for Max he had found himself in the middle of whatever the hell was going on with Lando and you. You claimed he never reached out anymore and Lando claimed that you never did. It didn’t help matters that he was the only one who knew about what happened with you guys years ago. 

“You do know the phone works both ways right? You could reach out to her.” Max loves Lando like a brother and so it didn’t bother him any to give him a little tough love. 

Lando just kind of stares at Max, not having expected him to take your side. “Well, I’ve been busy. The season is getting ready to start up.” 

“You didn’t think to try and make plans with her over winter break?” 

No. Lando didn’t think to make plans over winter break because it meant he’d have to undoubtedly hear you talk about Arthur and the thought of it already put him into a bad mood. “She’s got a new group of friends and seems to be doing well. It’s whatever.” Lando says with a shrug. 

Max wanted to reach across the table and strangle Lando. Yes you had made new friends, but you still hung out with Max and your other old friends. He knew your past with Lando always made things complicated and that you never let on just how much the breakup affected you, but he also knew how Lando could be.

“You’re really gonna let your oldest friendship fizzle out because she’s got some new friends? Because she’s entered a new chapter in her life? She’s known you longer than me and I know there’s other things going on in that big head of yours that I surely could guess, but if you continue on with this petty nonsense you’ll lose her entirely.” 

When Lando accepted Max’s invitation for dinner tonight he didn’t think he’d be getting a talking to, yet here he was, and he couldn’t even deny that what Max was saying wasn’t true. Technically you weren’t with Arthur, so perhaps Lando could get some time to talk to you before the season started.

Lando doesn’t bother to respond to Max’s rant, his silence is a sufficient enough answer for everyone at the moment. 

The food had just arrived at the table and Lando had barely gotten two bites in before his whole night came crashing down. His phone that was face down on the table vibrated, but he chose to ignore it, trying to practice better table manners.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Max’s girlfriend pick up her phone around the same time his went off and he wasn’t trying to be nosy, but he couldn’t help but notice how big her eyes got at whatever she was looking at and how she quickly elbowed Max to get his attention. His attention was really piqued when Max mumbled oh fuck under his breath with a distressed look on his face. 

“What? Is Verstappen going to Mercedes or something?” Lando jokes. Max and Pietra’s eyes snap towards their friend, but before they can try and stop him he’s already picking up his phone. 

y/ninstagram just made a post 

Is the only notification on his lock screen when Lando looks at his phone and of course he’s going to click on it, but as soon as it loads he wishes he hadn’t. It’s the one thing he didn’t want to be true staring back at him. A whole photo dump of pictures of Arthur and you publicly announcing your relationship. 

Lando feels like he’s going to be sick, the couple bites of food he took moments ago already trying to come back up. An incessant ringing starts in his ears and his peripheral vision blurs as he seems to laser focus on the photos. You look happy and in love and it makes him fucking sick. It should be him that you’re posting, yet he’s sat here in some Italian restaurant with his best mate and his girlfriend looking at him like he’s some injured puppy.

Deep down Lando knows this is all his own fault, but he doesn’t want to admit it. He knows you two would probably be engaged by now if he hadn’t been the worlds biggest fuck up and dumbass years ago. Instead you’re with some other guy who shows you off like you should be and unapologetically loves you. Who doesn’t put his career before the woman he loves. 

“Mate.” Max finally snaps Lando out of his trance and when he locks eyes with him he can’t help but feel sorry for him. Sure he was tough on him earlier and yes he was keeping your relationship a secret from him, but the look of absolute heartbreak on his friends face was horrible.

Max had been there through every fling or other relationship the both of you had after your breakup and Lando didn’t seem to be that bothered back then, but if Max had any inkling as to why Arthur bothered him so much it was because he realized just how happy he makes you and how much Lando himself actually needs you. “Lando mate, I still think you should talk to her.” 

This stuffy restaurant was the last place Lando wanted to be right now, he felt like every pair of eyes were on him and he didn’t need another Max lecture at the moment. He grabs his wallet from his back pocket and throws a couple hundred on the table. “Yeah I don’t think so anymore. I’ll see you guys later.” 

He rushes out of the restaurant and the cool air hits him like a ton of bricks, the bustling sounds of London overstimulating his senses and all he wants at the moment is you, but he can’t have you and it’s driving him crazy. London reminds him too much of you and instead of spending the rest of the week here like he planned he books a red eye back to Monaco that night. 

When he’s finally back in his apartment that overlooks the sea he realizes that it’s not just London that reminds him of you, it’s Monaco too. Pictures of you guys in his apartment, your hoodie you left from the last time you visited, the wine you like a little too much in his cabinets. There’s pieces of you in his life everywhere he seems to go. He doesn’t think there’s a part of him that you haven’t infiltrated and it makes him want to scream. He’d never been more ready for the season to start, praying that he could distract himself with racing, yet racing was the reason he was in the mental state he was in now.

 ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

That was four months ago and now Lando sat in his hotel room in Montreal, stomach in knots over a simple text message from you. 

You two hadn’t physically seen each other in a long time, but you had started texting more and to Lando that was fine because through text he could pretend that Arthur didn’t exist. You had stupidly sent him a congratulations text after he won the first race of the season and when he drunkenly texted you that he missed you so much that it hurt that night you knew you’d made the wrong decision.

Yet, Lando had his ways of sucking you back in so you began texting regularly again. You guys began to reconnect, good luck texts became a regular thing and you’d fill each other in on your days. It somewhat felt like things were back to normal or how things were pre-Arthur. Lando couldn’t actually remember the last time he actually saw you, ever since you came into Arthur’s life your roots had seemed to be firmly planted in London. Your trips to see Lando in Monaco no longer happened, he didn’t come and see you in London either, and you coming to random races when you had a free weekend had come to a halt. He missed you more than imaginable, your laugh and the way you sang way too loudly in the car.

This time apart had been rough and he knows it’s majorly his fault, but god his heart feels like it’s being ripped right out of his chest every time he sees Arthur and you together and he hates to think what he’d feel like if he actually saw you two in person. Yet, against his better judgement he grabs his phone from the the fluffy white bedding, your text message still pulled up when he unlocks his phone. He needed to see you, needed to talk to you, and if that meant he had to see Arthur, then he guess that’s how it had to be. 

With shaky hands and a heart rate of 130– he sends a reply. 

lando: they’ll be mailed out first thing tomorrow. 

He immediately turns off his phone, messes with the old alarm clock on the nightstand to hopefully be waking him up in four short hours, and then quickly climbs under the covers. He prays sleep comes quickly and that maybe when he wakes up these past six months will have been a nightmare.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

British Grand Prix 2025 

The sun seemed to beat down on Lando as he briskly walked through the paddock towards McLaren’s hospitality. The slight sweat on his brow was a rare occurrence, considering he always ran cold, often seen sporting a hoodie and jeans at even the hottest races on the calendar.

It wasn’t even that warm out, yet Lando felt like it was sweltering, his stomach starting to hurt from how overheated he was getting. His heart was racing faster than he would be on Sunday and he started to wonder if something was actually wrong with him. Heart attack? Food poisoning? None of the above. The real culprit was anxiety. It seemed to be getting worse the closer he got to hospitality, and he knew the reason why, but he’d just use the excuse of being nervous about this weekend. 

As soon as he passed through the doors of the hospitality unit his anxiety heightened. The place was bustling, as per usual during Silverstone, people everywhere and anywhere. His eyes scan the room, the excessive amount of papaya makes the people blend into one big orange blob, but then he hears the one thing that he swears he could hear in a crowd full of a million people. 

Your laugh. 

He feels his heart tighten and a small smile start to spread across his face as his eyes lock onto you. Tucked away into a corner you’re sat there with his family, laughing about something with his sisters and for the first time in almost a year it feels like how things were before. This is how it always should be, you here with him– with his family.

Then suddenly his daydream is immediately ruined when his eyes glance slightly to the right and he sees the one person he wasn’t looking forward to seeing. Lando had secretly hoped that Arthur would get sick or something would come up and he wouldn’t be able to make it, but of course Lando’s luck has never been that great. 

His anxiety was still there, afraid that when he eventually makes his way over to you that things are going to be awkward, that Arthur and you are engaged, or that you’re pregnant. Worst case scenario was overtaking his brain and the longer he stood there the worse it got. He didn’t want to see you two together and he’s regretting sending that text message weeks ago. He’s snapped out his anxiety induced pity party by his Mother spotting him and hollering for him to come join them. 

He pretends to not notice how your eyes seem to practically burn holes through him as you watch him walk over and when the only seat open is one directly across from you and Arthur, Lando knows the universe is out to get him. 

“We were just catching up with Y/N. It’s been ages since we’ve seen her!” Cisca says to her son, with an emphasis on the fact that they haven’t seen you in over a year. You were like a bonus daughter to her, an unofficial member of the family. She’d always thought Lando and you would end up together, hell his whole family thought it, yet here you were with a new guy on your arm and a very obvious tension between her son and you. Arthur was a darling and you were clearly happy with him, but she couldn’t help but silently root for Lando and you. 

“Yeah we were telling Arthur about when we were kids and you cried when Y/N beat you for the first time in karting.” Lando’s sister laughs again as she retells the story, like it hadn’t been told a hundred times before. 

“You always were a sore loser.” The first words out of your mouth towards Lando and it’s a dig towards him? Sad part was that it was kind of the truth, he never seemed to take it well when you did better than him when you guys raced together and even now he struggles with being a poor loser, especially after getting a real taste of what winning is like. 

Lando doesn’t bother responding, just a simple nod as the conversation quickly moves on to something else. It’s all background noise now to him anyways, he’s too focused on watching how Arthur and you interact. It’s probably obvious that he’s staring down Arthur or that he looked away as soon as Arthur reached for your hand and you intertwined your fingers like a natural reflex. Or that as soon as you lean into Arthur’s side Lando’s immediately standing up, loudly announcing that practice starts soon and that he better get going. 

“Isn’t practice in like another two hours?” Flo asks as she watches her brother make a mad dash out of hospitality. You glance down at your phone to check the time, confirming what Flo said was true. “He’s been acting so weird for a while now. Did you know in February he was supposed to come visit everyone before the season started. Was in London for like two days and then calls us and says he got sick and that he was back in Monaco. He’s just been acting so strange.” 

You get one last quick look at Lando before he’s through the doors and back out into the paddock. A deep sigh escapes past your lips as the realization of what you’d been avoiding finally washes over you. You grip Arthur’s hand tighter as you face Lando’s family, a tight lipped smile adorning your face. “Probably just stressed about the season, championship fight and all that stuff.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Later that night your hotel room is eerily quiet. No TV, no music, just the sound of the AC and the hustle and bustle still going on outside. You’re in the bathroom doing your night-time routine when Arthur waltzes in, grabbing his toothbrush from his side of the double vanity. He’s been quiet for a big part of the day and you’re not sure if it’s because today’s been busy and overwhelming at times, causing his social battery to be dead or if something else is going on. 

You watch him as he brushes his teeth and consider asking him if everything’s alright, but he beats you to it before you can open your mouth. “I don’t think Lando likes me.” He states as he puts his toothbrush back in its spot. 

Your actions halt for a moment, your face half moisturized. You’d had your inklings that Lando didn’t care for Arthur, it was actually a big reason that you figured Lando stopped reaching out for some time. His behavior today somewhat confirmed what you had been thinking, but you weren’t going to tell Arthur that. You guys were here for a good weekend and you weren’t going to let Lando ruin that. 

“What makes you say that?” You ask as you continue to rub in your moisturizer. 

Arthur sighs as he leans against the vanity, his back to the mirror. “You didn’t notice the glares he was sending my way the whole time he was sitting there in hospitality? It was ridiculous. I’ve only been around him like three times and each time he’s not been very welcoming.” 

“He’s just stressed about the season and sometimes he can just be a little off putting with new people. He just needs to be around you more.” 

Arthur scoffs, not believing a word you’ve said. “I know when I’m not liked or wanted around Y/N.” 

You’re trying your best to reassure him, but you’ve never been a great liar. “Baby I promise he doesn’t hate you.” You make your way over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you stare into his big brown eyes. “I like you– like a lot. So I think that matters more than someone who doesn't even know you.” 

Arthur messes with the strings on your hoodie as he contemplates his next words. “But– he’s one of your closest friends and a huge part of your life. I mean hell meeting Lando’s family today was more like meeting your biological family. I just want to be accepted by your people. You fit in so well with my friends and family so I only feel like I should with yours.” 

“Lando’s family loved you, so did my family and my other friends. Hell, even Fewtrell likes you and really that says a lot.” Arthur’s face is still showing no signs of being convinced. “Listen, Lando can be moody and difficult sometimes. It really has nothing to do with you and really even if he doesn’t like you I don’t care. Who he likes and doesn’t like doesn’t dictate my life any. I like you and that’s all that matters to me.” 

Your hands move up to cup the face of the man in front of you and when he leans into your touch and pulls you closer into him you know you’ve at least reassured him a little. “You’re my person you know that?” His voice is low and he’s looking at you like you’re the love of his life and it’s all consuming yet terrifying at the same time, mainly because of the other brown haired Brit in your life.

So you distract yourself by pressing your lips against his, they’re soft and plump and you find yourself easily getting lost in him. The both of you are quickly tangled up in the white hotel sheets and when you wake up the next morning, bare limbs twisted together, you know you have to actually talk to Lando today. 

y/n: can we talk today? like actually have a conversation? 

Is the text you quickly send while getting ready and in what seems like record time Lando replies. 

lando: yeah, but it will have to be after qualifying. i’ll text you when i’m back at my room its number 251 

You just send a thumbs up and prepare yourself for what you know is going to be the world’s longest day ever. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The sun is just starting to set when your phone dings, the text notification from Lando lighting up your screen. Arthur had gone off to hang out with some of his friends who were here courtesy of big brands or companies, so you didn’t have to worry about what to tell him. As you walk down the long hallway you realize Lando’s room is on the same floor as you, because why wouldn’t it be? The big 251 on the door stares back at you, taunting you almost, and it takes every ounce of courage in you to knock on that door. 

The door swings open and there stands a freshly showered Lando, hair still dripping wet as he motions for you to come in. “Sorry, didn’t think you’d be here so fast.” 

At least he’s dressed you think as you awkwardly stand in the middle of his hotel room. It’s weird that nothing had even really happened between you two, there was no fight or anything like that, yet going almost half a year without seeing each other is a big adjustment. Add in past feelings and codependency and that’s what you’ve got going on in this hotel room right now. “Congrats on pole.” You’re hoping maybe starting off with something good won’t make this conversation turn south, but it’s highly unlikely. 

“Thanks.” He says as he stands there with his hands in his pockets, teetering back and forth on his feet. There’s a long stretch of silence of you two just standing there staring at each other before Lando breaks the ice once again. “I’ve missed you. I know I haven’t been the best friend when it comes to communication, but I have missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too.” You weren’t lying, but you weren’t necessarily telling the truth either. 

Then again there’s a long stretch of awkward silence and it’s like you two aren’t yourselves, like two people who look like you guys have just been placed in this room, like you’re strangers that know everything about one another. 

Finally you decide to address the elephant in the room. “Alright, I’m just gonna ask it. What’s up with you? Do you not like Arthur or something? Because you’ve made this weekend so awkward and I’m tired of having to lie to my boyfriend.” 

Lando thinks about lying, but what’s the point? You’ll just leave here and go back to your own little bubble again so he might as well tell the truth. “Actually I can’t stand him.” His answer doesn’t surprise you and you don’t even want to ask why because deep down you know the reason why. But Lando doesn’t even give you the chance to, something’s ignited in him and he’s ready to lay everything out there on the table. “I can’t stand him because he took you from me. Do you know how lonely I was? It was like you just fucked off and made a new life for yourself and it killed me. It killed me to see you with him and see this version of you that I didn’t even know existed.” 

And there it was. Lando was never the sharing type, especially when it came to you, yet when it came to actually laying claim to you, he could barely do it for three months. 

“I’m not your property Lando. Arthur didn’t take anything from you. You made it clear six years ago that we weren’t together anymore. Also the phone goes both ways, you could have reached out if you were that lonely.” 

Lando sat down on the bed, his hands gripping the white duvet in frustration. “I didn’t want to hear you talk about Arthur, see him, or see you two together. It drove me absolutely crazy and still does. So no, I didn't reach out. What’s your excuse?” 

Your bottom lip catches between your teeth at his counter. Your excuse was a little less forward than his. See, the thing about Lando Norris was that the more you were around him the deeper your connection. 

You two were twin flames. 

Childhood friends who raced together, inseparable on and off the track. Then still conjoined at the hip as you grew up and eventually you both realized you had feelings for one another, so you decided to test the waters and get into a relationship. It was going great and then he got a seat in Formula 1– his dream since a young boy and you were ecstatic for him.

You were ready to support him through this new chapter in his life as his girlfriend, but a week before he was due to fly out for the first race of the season he decided to break up with you. Lando claimed that he really needed to focus on his career and that it wouldn’t be fair to you that he was gone all the time. That he couldn’t be a good boyfriend and racer at the same time. So you broke up, but he was adamant that you two would still be friends. That nothing would change other than the fact that you aren’t together.

Looking back now, that somehow made things worse. You two became so codependent on each other that it was a little concerning. You both were still clearly in love and you were going to races and still spending an excessive amount of time with him, yet there was no label. He never showed any interest in getting back together, but you stayed around just in case. There would be periods where you’d be separated for a while and your heart would ache, but then after some time you’d feel free. Like your soul and heart wasn’t so intertwined with Lando’s, but the second you two would reunite it was like you were back under his spell. 

Then when you met Arthur, it felt different than the other little flings you’d had. He was everything you wanted in a guy and you knew if you wanted to actually try and make this work with him, then you’d have to separate yourself from Lando. And at first it hurt and you missed him, but then the ache surpassed and you felt free and this new life you’d made was one you could see yourself living. But then your dumbass goes and texts Lando and when the texting started to become more frequent you started to feel that twinge in your heart again. And as you stand here in front of that man your stomach is in knots because you don’t think you’ll ever be able to escape this toxic cycle. 

“I didn’t reach out to you because I knew if I did then you’d suck me right back in. I’m happy with Arthur and it’s not fair what you do to me.” 

Lando pushes himself up off the bed and moves to stand directly in front of you. “What I do to you? More like what you do to me? God, you’ve ruined every other girl for me Y/N.” 

Your anger starts to bubble over, he always wants to play the victim. “I’ve done nothing but stand by your side and be still so utterly in love with you for the past six years even after you chose your career over me. But I guess it was worth it in the end wasn’t it? Winning all these races now. I just hope this argument doesn’t do your head in and your teammate takes the championship lead back from you again tomorrow.” 

Lando grabs your arm, his grip tight and his jaw clenched. “Don’t play these fucking games with me right now.” 

“I’m not playing any games. I’m telling you the truth. You can’t handle both me and racing, remember?” His eyes are dark as they bore into yours, he’s intimidating, but you’re not backing down. “You’re just jealous that a different man was finally able to make me happy and treat me right. He’s not afraid of what the media might say or afraid to show me off.” 

He can feel himself getting ready to snap, his self control thinning by the second. “Stop being such a brat.” 

“I’m not-” You don’t even get to finish your sentence before Lando’s pushing you up against the wall, your faces inches apart. Your stomach flips and you feel one of his hands on your waist, the other coming up to cup your face.

“Tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you don’t want this as much as I do and I’ll leave you alone.” His voice is barely above a whisper, yet it feels like he’s yelling. Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest, yet the feeling of him is so exhilarating that you can’t stop him.

When you don’t answer Lando wastes no time in crashing his lips against yours and it’s intoxicating. The way you two move so perfectly in sync, you know every part of one another and he still knows how to kiss you in the way that makes you weak in the knees. He starts to get handsy and part of you wants to continue, but then the small part of you that isn’t infected by Lando flashes an image of Arthur in your mind and guilt immediately washes over you. 

“No no no. Lando, I can't do this.” You push him away, tears already starting to form in your eyes. “Fuck you always do this to me. Why can’t I quit you? It’s not fair. It’s not fair to Arthur, it’s not fair to me. All I wanted was to be loved and Arthur gave that to me and what am I doing right now? Betraying that because you’ve made yourself a permanent part of me.” You snatch your phone off Lando’s bed and head towards the door. “Don’t text me, don’t call me, this is it Lando. I love you, but we can’t do this.” 

The door slams shut behind you and Lando’s left standing there wondering what the hell just happened. 

The next morning both Lando and you clearly aren’t at your peak performance as humans. You’re riddled with guilt for kissing Lando and cheating on Arthur. While Lando’s trying to figure out what the hell he actually feels and if this is really the end of you and him. 

Lando knows you won’t want to talk to him today, but that doesn’t stop him from looking for you in the garage. He keeps checking the viewing area every little bit, but you’re not there, and he wonders if you’ll even show up today.

Just when he’d lost all hope he spots you sneaking in with Arthur right before he’s set to get into the car. You two make eye contact briefly and he may be a little delusional, but he can still feel that connection between you two. Especially when he sees that you’ve got on his merch, the number four big and bold on your shirt. A smug smirk can’t help but stretch across his face as he shoves his helmet over his head. You clearly didn’t feel that guilty about last night, who else would be standing there with their current boyfriend on their arm, and the guy you kissed last night racing numbers on them? 

Lando does end up fucking up his race and it does make you feel a little better about last night, but you know you’ll carry this guilt with you forever. It’s just how you’ll continue on with things is what you’re uncertain about. The opposite side of the McLaren garage is roaring with cheers while Lando’s side claps for a modest P5. When he returns to the garage and sees the majority of the team out there celebrating Oscar’s win he knows that maybe it is karma for what happened last night. He can’t even confide in you right now about the shit race, he’d kill to feel your arms wrap around him and hear your sweet voice in his ear, but instead you’re staring at him like you hate him, which you probably do. But he knows deep down you’ll never actually get rid of him– your souls are intertwined. 

There’s no getting rid of that. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The week after Silverstone Lando decides to stay in London for a multitude of reasons. He’d carved out some time to make the trek back to his childhood home to visit with his family for a couple days and he also had duties to fulfill over in Woking at headquarters. But the main reason he was staying instead of flying back to Monaco was because he’d hoped to get to talk to you again, try and smooth things over.

It’s a rainy summer night in London when things escalate even further between Lando and you. He’s in his old apartment that he’s not even sure why he still pays for when it sits empty for the majority of the year. Rain drops slide down the floor to ceiling windows and thunder rumbles in the far distance as he sits on the couch, phone in hand. He’d been in the same spot for a good hour now contemplating if he should try and reach out so soon, but he was leaving for Monaco in a couple days and he felt like it was now or never. 

He’s just about ready to hit send on the text to you that he’d been retyping for what seems like forever when a very loud knock at his door makes him jump. He wasn’t expecting any company and not to mention the rain that seemed to be coming down in buckets at the moment, so he wasn’t sure who was on the other side of that door. The one knock quickly turns into pounding when he doesn’t immediately answer the door and then he hears your voice from the hallway. 

“Lando open the door! I know you’re in there!” 

His eyes widen and he swiftly unlocks the door only to find you standing there sopping wet, eyes bloodshot, and a look of hatred plastered on your face. He can already tell it's going to be a long night. 

“I fucking hate you Lando Norris.” You state as you push your way past him and into the apartment you used to call home for a while. 

“Well hello to you too.” He sasses back as he shuts the door. 

You turn on your heel to face him and when he actually gets a good look at you he realizes it’s not raindrops on your face– instead it’s teardrops. Yes you’re still sopping wet from the rain, but your quivering bottom lip and bloodshot eyes tell him those are tears. “What’s wrong love?” His voice is soft as he shuffles over towards you. 

You immediately put your hands up to stop him from coming any closer, the way he was acting was making you sick, like he didn’t just ruin the best thing that had ever happened to you last week. “I hope you’re happy with yourself. I really do because after tonight I’m never talking to you again.” 

Lando’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, he’s not sure what’s really going on at the moment. “What are you even talking about?” 

You give a look that surely makes you look insane, but that’s how you were feeling at the moment. “The guilt was eating me alive, consuming me. I couldn’t even sleep in the same bed as Arthur that night, I slept on the couch. I felt so guilty after kissing you and this whole week I’d been trying to figure out how to live with it, but I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t. Arthur deserves someone much better than me, someone who isn’t in some fucked up thing with their best friend. So tonight I made the decision to break up with him and it killed me to see the look of hurt and betrayal on his face. God he was everything I ever wanted and I ruined it– you ruined it.”

You take a deep breath, the tears streaming down your face like the rain on the windows.

“And the worst part of all of this is that I can’t get the stupid kiss out of my head. Ever since it happened I’ve been craving the feeling of your lips and it makes me hate you even more.” 

Lando stands there, not even sure of what he should say. When you showed up he wasn’t expecting to be hearing that you and Arthur broke up, let alone that you'd been thinking about the kiss you two shared. Because honestly it had been consuming Lando’s brain too. 

“Y/N I nev–” 

You quickly shake your head at the curly haired Brit. “No, I’m not done yet. You know I shouldn’t even be here right now. I really thought I had finally gotten rid of that part of you in me that never seemed to go away over the course of this past year, but god Lando you just dig your claws in don’t you? I made a good life with Arthur and I really liked him. I think if we stayed together long enough I might have found room in my heart to love him. But the way I felt about Arthur doesn’t compare to what I feel for you and it drives me nuts. When I come back around you it’s like you make it impossible to ignore the way you’re just ingrained in me. You’ve planted yourself in my heart and taken root and they’ve intertwined through every part of me. I think the only way I could get rid of you is if I ripped my own heart out. It’s not fair Lando– how am I supposed to go on with my life when you just keep pulling me back in?” 

“I don’t want you to go on with your life.” It’s selfish and Lando knows it, but he can’t help but be selfish when it comes to you. 

A bitter laugh emits from you as you shake your head in annoyance, of course he would say that. “Yeah you don’t want me to go on, but you don’t want to actually be with me. I know how this works Lando. I’m not a toy that you only want to play with when someone else has me.”

Lando just stares at you and the fact that he isn’t trying to butt in allows you to just open the floodgates, a chance to get everything off your chest.

“I should have never agreed to stay friends with you after we broke up. I should have moved on and made a name for myself. Found out who I was outside of you, outside of this fucked up world of Formula 1. Instead I latched on to anything I could get from you, hoping and praying that once you found your footing that we’d get back together, but I was dumb and naive, and god it's been six years Lando and nothing has changed. I guess even now at twenty-five you’re still that same nineteen year old boy.”

Lando doesn’t know what to say, his heart wants to say one thing while his brain is telling him to say another. The wind howls outside and the rain beats against the windows while another storm is brewing inside his barren apartment. 

“You don’t think I didn’t want us to get back together these past six years? When I broke up with you I immediately regretted it, but then you stuck around I thought ok this could work. I still had you and my doubts about being able to be a good boyfriend and a good driver at the same time suddenly didn’t matter. But then after a while when you started to explore the idea of seeing other guys I hated it every time I saw you with them or you brought them around. Yet somehow I always knew you’d come back to me, so I was able to conceal how I felt better back then. When Arthur came into your life I knew something was different with him and it scared me to death that he was going to be the reason I lost you forever.” 

Lando was so fucking oblivious it made your head spin. “The only reason I came back to you was because you weren’t as great at hiding how you felt back then as you thought. You’d show me a little interest in maybe getting back together and I’d drop those guys in a heartbeat. Arthur was different because I was able to isolate myself from you, but I guess maybe it wasn’t because look where I’m at right now. It always ends the same doesn’t it?” 

There’s a beat of silence for the first time tonight and you can feel the adrenaline wearing off and exhaustion starting to settle in as you lean against the back of the leather couch. “Do you really love me Lando? Do you really want me or do you just hate to think about me with somebody else? If I asked you to be my boyfriend– to get back together right now. What would you say?” 

Lando’s heart wants to say yes so badly, it’s screaming out for him to allow him to love with his whole being, but his brain can’t seem to allow it. “I–um-I’m not sure.”

An almost sinister smile stretches across your face as you stare back at him, so fucking predictable.

“It’s just that it’s always been you and me. We know each other inside and out and there’s never been another person who I could imagine myself with. I do love you Y/N. I’ve loved you since we were kids, and there’s been countless times where I’d thought about giving us another try and then my self doubt creeps in and I’m still so afraid that I can’t be the man you need me to be–” 

“I don’t need for you to be some picture perfect unbelievable fairy tale boyfriend or something. I just need you to be you Lando. I felt that way six years ago and you didn’t get it back then. I would have hoped that you would have gotten it by now, but you clearly don’t.” 

The tears continue to stream down your face in frustration more than sadness.

Lando starts to talk with his hands, his voice raising slightly. “Everyone expects more of me now. My racing career is going so well at the moment and I don’t want you to be an afterthought in my life.” 

“I understand your job Lando. I get the demands and the stress and you being away sometimes. I’ve still been a part of your world for these past six years in case you forgot.” 

“I’m scared that if we give it a try again and I fuck things up then I’ll loose you forever.” He wishes he wasn’t like this, yet he can’t seem to get his brain and heart to work together.

“Am I meant to just stick around until you retire or something?” 

Lando shakes his head as he steps closer to you. “No, that’s not what I meant.” 

“There’s drivers out there with wives and families, clearly they learned how to manage their job and personal life. Why can’t you?” You’re pleading with him at this point and he still continues to give you the same bullshit answers.

“I don’t know. I know I love you though.” 

The ache in your chest only seems to worsen, his words seem to mean nothing to you anymore. “Well, I hate that I love you.” 

“You don’t mean that.” His eyes soften as he stands directly in front of you and you think that maybe you’ve hurt him a little, but that doesn’t stop you from unloading the assault you throw at him next.

“Yes I do. I hate it. You’ve made me look like a fool all these years. A girl desperate enough to wait on you until you’re ready and just when I thought I’d actually made it out of your chains you pull me right back in. I wasted six years of my life waiting for you and I’m not gonna waste another six.”

His arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest and you want to resist him, push him away, but you can’t and you hate yourself that much more. You hate that after saying everything you did, your actions make those words useless. You hate that it feels nice to be in his arms and that his soft kisses to your head feel even nicer.

“I think it would be wise if we continued this conversation in the morning. You’re exhausted and I think we can really discuss this better when you have a clearer head.”

He pulls back, his hands cupping your face, his thumbs wiping away your tears as his blue eyes stare back at you. How they have that sparkle in them even in this dimly lit apartment you’ll never know, but that sparkle is what inevitably gets you in even more trouble. His eyes were always one of your biggest weaknesses, he knew that and you knew he was using them to his advantage. 

“I do love you, and maybe I’m not the best with words or explaining how I feel, but let me show you how I feel.” You see him leaning in and you know you shouldn’t, you know how this is going to end, yet you meet him in the middle anyways.

Kissing Lando is an intoxicating experience, one you’ll never get used to or get enough of and then when his hands start to roam you just let it happen and you know in this moment that you’ve fully surrendered yourself to him, like always. 

The old bed creaks as your back falls flat against it, the sheets are cold against your back, your shirt and pants discarded somewhere along the journey from the living room to his bedroom. His kisses are sloppy as they travel down your body and when they get to your thighs you’re embarrassingly already bucking your hips up towards him, yet he doesn’t say anything, just flashes you a smirk and hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties. 

His hands are planted firmly on your knees as he spreads you open, the cool air directly hitting your core, yet your whole body already felt like it was on fire. You were desperate for him, so sensitive to his touch, and when he swipes a single digit through your folds to find you absolutely drenched he feels his cock twitch in his sweatpants.

He feels conflicted because he really wants to take his time with you, but on the other hand he wants to make you come so many times that you’re seeing stars. From the little whines emitting from you he knows him trying to tease you will only make you more mad at him and he was only about pleasing you tonight. The decision no longer a hard one.

“What do you want, baby? My fingers or my mouth.” He asks, his voice low, heart pounding. 

You’re so unbelievably desperate and you waste no time in telling him what you want. “Both.” 

The grin on his face makes you roll your eyes at him and that somehow makes his cock even harder. You always were a greedy girl. 

He uses his mouth first, his tongue making work to have you breathless. His nose brushes against your clit as his tongue fucks your hole, your hands finding their way into his curls and tugging as the pleasure begins to build. He moves his mouth to focus solely on your clit while he slides two of his thick fingers into your soaking cunt. Your moans are like music to his ears as he brings you close and closer to the edge. 

Curse words echo through the room when he curls his fingers just right to hit that spot that has your toes curling in pleasure. He knows you’re close, he can feel it, the way your walls clench down around his fingers and how your chest heaves. He detaches his mouth from you long enough to give you some encouragement, his face glistening in your wetness. “Come on baby, let go, be a good girl for me.” 

His mouth is barely back to work before that tight coil in you snaps and your hips are rising up off the bed, pleasure surging through every nerve in your body. Lando’s free hand comes up to force your hips back down, pinning you onto the bed as his mouth continues it’s assault on your cunt, his fingers fucking you through your orgasm. 

He doesn’t seem to let up, a man deranged it seems. You’re trying to catch your breath as you come down from your first mind blowing orgasm, but the pleasure is already starting to build for a second one. “Fucking hell Lan.” You manage to choke out as he continues to give you everything he can. He’s determined to make you feel good. 

Your second orgasm sneaks up on you fast and hard. The pleasure is overwhelming and you think you start speaking in tongues as it hits its peak. Lando’s name is said like a prayer, echoing through the room, bouncing off the walls, and it goes straight to his head. 

He’s pussy drunk, face glistening, and eyes wide as he finally comes up for air. The sight of you below him has his dick twitching and his mind clouded. You have an ethereal glow to you even after he’s just absolutely exhausted you with back to back orgasms. “Can my girl take another one?” 

For the first time since his lips touched yours tonight does your mind finally uncloud for a brief second, the use of my girl making your heart ache, because you know this won’t change anything. You two sharing a bed, sharing this intimate moment won’t change how he feels about actually committing to you. You’ll never actually be his girl. 

You’d been too in your head, still trying to come down from your orgasms and then facing the reality of the situation Lando and you find yourselves in to notice that he’d stripped himself of his sweatpants. His dick was painfully hard– the tip bright red and throbbing. It’s embarrassing how your body instantly reacts to him, your pussy clenching around nothing at the sight of his cock. 

He grabs it at the base slowly dragging it through your folds a few times before slowly pushing the tip in. Gasps come from both of you at the sensation of his thick cock stretching you out, the feeling of your velvety walls around him makes him shudder.

Once he’d completely bottomed out he stills for a moment, one hand coming up to caress your face, his eyes piercing into yours as you lay beneath him. “Let me show you how much you mean to me, yeah?” His voice is soft and meaningful and once you gently nod at him he slowly starts to move.

He wanted to be slow and passionate this round, but the sight of your pussy engulfing his dick each time makes his head spin and he starts to pick up the pace. He wastes no time in grabbing your legs and hiking them up over his shoulders, the new position allowing him to be even deeper, hitting the spot that makes you see stars. 

His thrusts were relentless and the sound of him fucking you was downright sinful. You close your eyes feeling the pleasure build for the third time tonight, but a gentle tap to your cheek has you opening them. “Eyes open pretty girl, I want you looking at me when you fall apart.” His free hand that isn’t holding himself up travels down and his thumb starts to rub tight little circles on your clit.

The feeling of Lando staring at you makes this whole experience even more intense, it’s like you’re in a pleasure induced trance. You can feel your orgasm building and with one last thrust from Lando you’re toppling over the edge. Your whole body feels like it’s vibrating and for a second you feel like you’re out of your own body, the pleasure so intense.

Lando nearly comes at the sight of you coming undone beneath him, the way your eyes pierced into his, your jaw slack, tits bouncing in his face as he still pounds into you. Then he does something unexpected– his hand comes back up and intertwines with one of yours and it makes your heart flutter, an act so simple, yet so meaningful in the moment. 

You feel him squeeze your hand tighter and his thrusts start to get a little sloppy. “You gonna come for me? Come on baby let go.” 

Your words are the only thing he needs to hear before profanities are slipping past his lips, your name being chanted like you’re his savior. His hips stutter as ropes of his hot sticky cum paint your velvet walls, his chest heaves as he milks every last ounce of his orgasm. “Fuck I love you so much.” He doesn’t think he’s ever came this hard in his life, his hand still gripping yours like his life depended on it. 

You’re still blissed out from getting properly fucked and the words tumble right out of your mouth back at him. “I love you too.” 

He leans down and kisses you like he never has before, it’s deep and passionate and you think he’s trying to convey his feelings through that kiss, but this isn’t the action you really needed from him right now. Once he catches his breath he slowly pulls out of you, a groan emitting from him at the sight of his cum leaking out of you and a whimper from you at the feeling of emptiness that washes over you. 

He gets you cleaned up and climbs back into bed with you, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he presses chaste kisses to your bare shoulder. And as you watch the lightning flash across the night sky through the rain streaked windows you pray that maybe this time would be different. 

As morning arrives the sun shines in the sky, a bright new day compared to the stormy night, yet there’s nothing bright and sunny about how you feel. You knew when you showed up at Lando’s door last night that this is how it would end, it’s how it always ends. You love him with every fiber of your being and deep down you think he feels as deeply about you as you do him, but only time will tell.

There’s still a storm between Lando and you and for the moment it’s calmed, but it’s still unstable. You know you two won’t talk about last night, you'll act like it didn’t happen and you’ll be back in the endless toxic cycle that is Lando and you. 

[iceunhie]

voicelines about you: as their lover ! (part 2)

featuring: sunday, aventurine, blade (+ black swan, acheron) [ part 1: dan heng, jing yuan, gepard, kafka, jingliu. ]

notes: well. the long awaited part 2 is here! (i took absolutely wayyy too long to finish this but a lovely anon requested the penacony cast so i just waited until now haha) stay tuned for either a future aventurine fic or a sunday fic tho; reblogs are appreciated! main masterlist.

Sunday

About [Name]: Ah, you speak of my beloved. [Name] has managed to strike your interest as well? Heh, I'm joking. You aren't that type of person, no? ….But yes, my lover truly is quite stellar, if not incomparable. I doubt I'd find anyone in the universe as lovely as I do them.

About [Name]: Smitten Robin often jokes about how my eyes change whenever I see them. ‘Softens like the smitten man you are,’ she says. Well, my sister is hardly wrong about matters of the heart, and to be fair, her words are indeed correct. While I cannot be with them every second of the day, despite my only wish to do so…. I suppose this much is fine. At the very least, this bewitched version of myself shall ward any that dare take [Name] away from me.

About [Name]: Preparation. …My mansion has everything [Name] shall ever desire. As for I, what I only desire is them alone, and for them to be right by my side. When the time is right, what's mine shall also be theirs, and none shall ever separate the two of us again. Should anyone attempt it, well, there's a reason my mansion is built the way it is.

Aventurine

About [Name]: [Name], [Name], [Name].... I see that you too have an eye for priceless treasures. Unfortunately for you, this particular one is already mine to behold. Mm, I wonder how my lover must be faring right now…. Missing them is truly, horribly debilitating.

About [Name]: Unworthy Whenever I think of [Name] being with me, of all people… Sometimes, the thought is unbearable. To think they would care for someone like me…. How truly lucky I am. Or maybe it's the other way around? Hehe, take a guess.

About Topaz: Contradictory Topaz and [Name] get along fairly well, despite her rather obvious dislike for me. Nonetheless, I suppose I can understand why. My lover is irresistibly charming~ Now, does this make me jealous, I wonder…. How about we bet on that?

Blade

About [Name]: Though this sword may be battered and broken, if you harbor any intention of harm towards them, I will not hesitate to brandish this blade.

About [Name]: Mara Infliction When afflicted with mara, the senses are ravaged ceaselessly, muddying the mind—being unable to distinguish ally from foe. This is my path. And yet their face is clear, pure amidst the carnage, alleviating the haze for but a moment. My mind may be overridden with hatred, but I will never forget that feeling of salvation.

(BONUS: Kafka’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Truly A Shame Bladie’s little darling, hm? Definitely a wonder, that one, taming him so easily. Those two are definitely an interesting case, that's for sure. Scary, marastruck Blade and them…. truly a shame. Even I know just how the ending of that particular script will end.

Acheron

About [Name]: …They are my lover, yes. Hm? Tell you more about them? Heh, I think you'd have better luck asking [Name] instead of me. I probably wouldn't even know where to begin.

About [Name]: Keeping Memories Despite the fact of my memories being in less than the best condition, [Name] always tells me about all the exciting things they've come across, whether it be delicious food from various planets, or even the most mundane things like the sound of the rushing water, the sight of fireflies in the night. They truly make everything worth remembering.

(BONUS: Black Swan’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Eye Of The Storm Ah, you speak of that Galaxy Ranger's companion…. The abyss that is her consciousness seems to only become calm in the face of them, akin to the eye of the storm. A shining light in the middle of nothingness—that is something that even she cannot let go of. No wonder Miss Acheron is quite taken with them.

Black Swan

About [Name]: The memories of Memokeepers are sorted into various categories by their importance. As my lover, my memories of them hold the greatest value of all. Such memories…. even if the Remembrance wishes for me to hand them over, I doubt I will ever allow it.

About [Name]: Dancing My proficiency in the act of dancing is all thanks to my continued practice with [Name] on our shared time together. Fufu, ‘dates,’ if you will. Every moment I spend in their arms, swaying to the beat of the music at every turn… those are the memories I wish to forever retain.

About Acheron: Indebted One time, Miss Acheron managed to get lost in the middle of the Reverie Hotel’s halls... as usual. [Name] came across her then, and proceeded to have a lovely chat with her. I owe her a debt for keeping my lover company as I was preoccupied with some matters the Garden of Recollection entrusted to me to relay to the family. Next time, perhaps I should invite her over for some dinner with [Name]....

end notes thanks for sticking around the part 2 (for the ogs who read pt 1) and do look forward to more HSR content in the future! also did i say i love aventurine

© 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Animal Town (2) | Only Human

Part 1, Part 3

You awake from your midday nap to the sounds of shouts from a man and a woman. Sounding like the latter is in distress you immediately run for your bat opening up the door facing the road. To find a billy goat man pulling a cow woman towards your doorstep; similar to their animal counterparts the man is short and wide sporting a dirtied tank top sleek with sweat. The female cow being pulled by tiny horns on her head is bent awkwardly wearing a revealing top with underwear and a jockstrap. Before you need to say anything the billy goat man is gruffing in your direction.

“Oh, so this is where the rumored human is. Well, aren’t you pretty?”

You don’t bother answering that. “What are you doing to here and what are you doing to her?”

Your question has him looking at the crying girl and spitefully pulling her closer as her knees buckle to the ground. All the while she’s crying and pleading incoherently. None of that seems to bother the goat man though as he spits in disgust.

“I’m showing this heifer ain’t nobody gonna want her! Dry as the Sahara this cow is she ain’t give make me any money for the food she eats.”

For emphasis he throws her to the ground, waiting for her to crawl back to him. When she opens her mouth to continue pleading he kicks the sandy dirt in her face. It makes you sick. 

“I’ll take her.”

They both look up at you in surprise. The billy goat man belts out in laughter as a disgusting smirk spreads on his face. 

“Oh, I see! Looking for another kind of milk, huh? Good luck with that!” He kicks at her again as he turns back to his truck. “Enjoy it Heifer you might actually be of worth for once.”

As he speeds off in his rickety, rusted truck she cries out making a desperate attempt to follow. Tripping over the dirt, barely a couple steps in; scraping her knees in her unconventional wardrobe. She crumples into herself crying with her hoarse voice, you let her go on for awhile before lifting her up and into the house.

You don’t know the ethics or the inner workings of farming when it comes to hybrids. Only barely catching the surface of the unregulated and often cruel practices that ensue because it’s a market for hybrids to be typically successful. With this in mind your careful to be gentle to not take it personally when she refuses to speak to you. You can’t imagine what she’s gone through.

“Here’s a towel and some soap and a washcloth. I ran a bath for you.”

“.....”

“I’ll come check on you in a bit. Take your time.”

She only wordlessly follows your commands with a sullen look on her face. Even when Titan comes around poking and prodding at the new face, she hardly reacts. 

“Hey, you! What’s your problem, huh? Why aren’t you smiling, huh? Why are you wearing (Y/n)’s clothes? It’s not fair!”

“Hey Titan give her space she’s having a rough day!”

“Well when I’m sad I just go to you. Why can’t she do that?”

“Sometimes I just don’t make everybody happy, Titan. And that’s okay.”

“That’s stupid.”

“.....Waaaaaaaaa”

“Titan!”

“Sorry!”

After canceling your dinners with the neighbors for the week much to their displeasure you settle her into a bedroom close to yours. Just in case. It isn’t until the next morning that you wake to tears on your face. Sitting above you her bust taking up most of your vision is the cow woman silently crying as she pulls at her teats only for nothing to come out. 

“I’m useless. I can’t even do this for you!”

You spend the day comforting the cow woman who’s drenching herself in endless tears. With lots of assurance that you ask for nothing from her and talk to her about her ‘job’ she finally opens up.

“...It’s Eudora.”

“Eudora…that’s a beautiful name.”

“It was what they called my mother before…he…took over. She never officially bequeathed it to me…because she never got to retire.” 

Lots of hugs and praise are what fills your days with Eudora. Breaking the unhealthy practices regarding eating and what she did throughout the day. Instead of letting her lay in bed and stew in her dark thoughts, you invite her to your picnics and follow after Titan as he explores the groves of your property. Without the fear of not producing milk or verbal abuse she finally starts to smile and actually taking your advice. 

“You are a queen Eudora, just like the others at that farm.”

“Hahaha me? A queen?”

“Yes!”

“Is this some city thing you guys call people?”

“Kind of but the point is, is that you barely realize how gorgeous and desirable you are just because. It’s a way to remind you of that.”

“....Wow…that’s really sweet, (Y/n)....”

“Just being honest–”

“That’s not fair if she’s your queen I wanna be your king!”

“Titan, she’s not mine. She’s nobody’s but her own.”

“💜”

“Gross. Can I still be your king (Y/n)!?”

She really starts to settle in as your roommate, helping you with your growing list of chores. Learning alongside to cook with you as you entertain the neighbors that continue to visit so eagerly. Despite letting herself get pushed to the side when they come around she’s really come into herself. Taking the clothes you’ve given her and styling it into something that works for her. Spending time and your money into her appearance. And if that wasn’t great enough she woke up to a curious surprise. 

“AAAAAhhhh!”

“W-what’s wrong!?”

“Milk spots!”

“What?”

“I’ve got milk spots! I’m leaking!”

Turns out all her body needed was a little TLC and it felt the need to lactate better than she’s ever had before. Days in the past spent blissfully walking through your fields are spent milking herself into whatever glasses you have. As it continues it gets worse better enough so that she eventually has to call on you to help. It’s a tad awkward for her to fling the maternity breast pump you bought for her as she demands you do it for her. 

“E-eudora c’mon I’ve never done anything like this I’m not going to—”

“NO!! I NEED YOU TO DO THIS! Otherwise it’s going to take all day!”

So there goes an hour in the morning to help her release the gallons of milk her happy body produces. Constantly hearing the wanton moans of the cow woman you’re doing such a big favor. When you're finished, you have Tank frantically sniffing you both for some odd reason as he comments about the suspicious noises he was hearing.....from miles away. Eudora doesn’t bother clearing up the misunderstanding you just aren’t picking up on.

“So I believe you too were awfully loud this morning”

“Oh, you heard us, did you? Lucky dog, I’m sure you wish you were in my position.”

“Uhm I don’t know why Tank would want to do what you were doing.”

Tank is whining. “It doesn’t smell like what I think it was.”

“Ha just because you can’t smell it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

“Well if you’re smelling milk then that’s accurate. Eudora made way more than we can cook with so we’re going to take it to the market today.” 

“oh…milk….The kind that comes from-?”

“Her? Yeah. What kind of milk could I be talking about?”

“Come on, (Y/n)! We’re going to lose daylight talking to him.”

“I–I–wanna come too!”

With all the publicity from the suddenly amazing milk from the odd human that’s recently moved in floats around. Of course, the sweaty gross billy goat is circling back to your place. Spitting and pointing when you finally come out to the enraged short man. The cow woman and the dog boys on your property at the time are all on guard.

“I want ‘em back! You cheated me you hairless skank!!!”

“You can’t have her if she doesn’t want to go!”

“Why you–”

“Grrrr!”

“Wait (Y/n)...I’ll handle this.”

She agrees to go with him. Kissing you on the cheek as she promises she’ll return by tonight. It feels like you’ve failed as she walks into the passenger seat with her now confident strut and proud smile in an outfit she feels comfortable in. It feels like you’ve lost that is until that rickety truck pulls up again in the dead of night. Tiffany staying up with you after attempting to put you to sleep and joining you as you run to see if your friend truly had returned. 

“I’m back~!” 

“Eudora!” 

The hug is your victory and it’s also a little off center. 

“Uh, heels?”

“A gift from the girls back home. Turns out the ownership of the farm was recently called into question and I’ve recently been included in a new business venture. An opening was recently made.” 

“Does this mean you’ll be moving in back there?”

Eudora hates how eager Mama Tiffany sounds with her speeding tail.

Eudora delights in the wagging slowing down with her next words

“No, I just figure I’ll be contributing a bit more to the home. Is that alright (Y/n)?”

“Of course, I’m so proud of you Eudora!”

Mama Tiff is livid along with her sons as she watches the cow-woman move in with designer bags and start paying to reinforce the fence on your property starting with the flap Titan loves sneaking in through. From then on she too comes with you when you head into town, not afraid to pull down her designer pink glasses to verbally put down anyone still brave enough to talk down to you. But by now it isn’t all hateful talks, she’s still chasing off anyone with mildly too positive intentions.

“Look feline if you don’t back off now I might be convinced not to starve your family.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Ah, but I can. Would you like to see?”

She’s sure she doesn’t need the extra help from your puppy neighbors but she’ll take it. If only to keep her nails clean, she’ll stick to her own strengths. Happily pulling you behind your market stalls because she desperately needs to be milked. She only trusts you–her human to do such a thing. No one else in this town is worthy of squeezing the liquid magic she can create than you– her dear one and only human.

“Come (Y/n) I need you. You are my special human—the only human I trust to help me fuel my empire. You won’t refuse me, right?”

Part 3: Here

Taglist: @midnight-nightmares @xrenka @candlesworlds-blog @00hellohello00 @lem-hhn @kawaii-cakes

[kirozai]

—HSR YANDERES AS TROPES.

Forced Proximity? Soulmates..? Amenesia! Common tropes that always end up happy! Your favorite characters love you so so much! But.. is it in the way you want?...

content warnings: yandere, toxic love, unreliable narrator, descriptions of gore, unrealistic relationships, unwanted PDA, depressive elements, suggestive, gn!reader (maybe ideas for makeup but most of the part is gn) pairing(s): sunday x reader, blade x reader, aventurine x reader, jing yuan x reader word count: around 350-500 each, 2100+ words in all A/N: I got a tiny bit carried away

Aventurine - Amnesia

WHAT’S PLAYING: engravings - Ethan Bortnick

Your eyes are blinded by the casino lights. The sound of chips being thrown and cards being shuffled fills your ears. Things feel so familiar, but at the same time, completely foreign. You turn your eyes to your lover. At least you think he’s your lover.

Two weeks ago you woke up in the dead of night on a hospital bed feeling numb from your head to the tips of your toes. The hospital lights were blinding making you feel dreary. You slowly regained movement by wiggling your fingertips and finally being able to sit up on the comfortable bed. As you gazed around the room you felt shocked to see gold engravings on the trim of the walls. It’s obvious it was a hospital, but it felt too expensive.

And you? You felt out of place.

A nurse walked into your room with a pan of what seemed like a new IV bag and other things like syringes and such. She turned wide-eyed and gasped as she suddenly dropped the pan of expensive medical equipment. You couldn’t make out what she said as she mouthed something out loud. The drowsiness hit you and you passed out.

The next time you woke up to a man sitting beside your bed in the most luxurious clothes you ever laid eyes on. He looked worried, very worried. Realizing you woke up once again his Avgin eyes-

Wait Avgin?...

“Sweetheart! You’ve been out for months. How are you feeling? Is there any pain? How… Can…?” He spoke quickly but after the first couple of sentences, his words faded into mush.

He called you sweetheart though, you deduced he was someone close to you. Someone that must have cared for you. 

But then why do you feel-

Cutting your thoughts you paused. Thinking was causing you too much pain and headache at the moment. You tried to recall what happened. 

And at that moment you realize you couldn’t even recall who you were.

After some time of recovery, you were able to get a couple of things down. The handsome man’s name was Aventurine. He is your lover. (?) You two have been together for quite some time now. You were diagnosed with severe amnesia, but your lover was kind enough to explain everything to you. Although, he was still hesitant to explain what happened to you and the reason why you were in the hospital.

You tried to get something out of the many doctors and nurses, but they seemed… scared.

Aventurine never left your side when other people were around. It was either you and him or no one at all. Leaving you lost and not being able to truly be clear about your condition. Everything went through Aventurine. 

One day during your walk around the large hospital, Aventurine got a call. He looked at it and furrowed his eyebrows, smiled at you, said it was an urgent call, apologized, and left for a brief moment. 

You dragged your IV stand a couple of steps more and abruptly stopped in your tracks as you overheard a pair of nurses talk about… you?

“IPC… they… lies… Aventurine… hiding.” Those were the only few words you were able to make out.

It no longer mattered though because Aventurine’s bright smile found you again and you walked back to your room first. If only you could see the piercing glare that he sent to the nurses. He wouldn’t know what to do if you heard about the fates of them after spreading lies to your pretty head.

After the recovery, you settled in enough to “your life”. Now you sit next to your lover whose luck shines more vibrant than a newborn baby’s laughter. You feel content for the most part.

I wonder if you would still feel content if you were able to take a good look past Aventurine’s perfect poker face. While you sleep he watches you worriedly, wondering if you’ll remember one day. Remember that this perfect love story he crafted isn’t so perfect after all. He wonders how you would react if you were to find out again the atrocities he’s committed in the name of “love”. He holds his chips tightly, but luck has always been on his side.

So tonight like any other night, you’ll smile with no idea of what had occurred in the past. At the end of the day, occasionally it is better to live unaware.

•••

Jing Yuan - Grumpy x Sunshine

WHAT'S PLAYING: Carousel - Melanie Martinez

The Luofu General was known for his joyous laughter and the positivity that he spread throughout the entire planet. He joked and was an infectious smiler. You on the other hand were known as the Yin to his Yang. If Jing Yuan was the sun, you were his moon. It’s adorable on paper, isn’t it?

You do nothing less than agree with the fact that your husband Jing Yuan was very positive. The reason why differed from others though. 

You believed the reason he was so happy was because he sucked every smile, every laugh out of you. 

Your story was the average fairytale, opposite attracts and then they fall in love. The End.

Unfortunately for you, Jing Yuan was anything but ordinary, and maybe that played a part in your perfect tragedy. 

Jing Yuan loved you. You knew that for sure. He had always been a PDA person, always close to you and you would most likely be seen dead than without his arm around your waist. It wasn’t a big deal though. This is what lovers usually do right?

Until you tried to back away. Things got… messy. 

Arguments ensued and you realized that he never really treated you as an equal. He loved you, yes, but he viewed you as lesser and somehow put you on a pedestal at the same. exact. time.

“You don’t respect me.” You stated firmly.

“But I love you.” He replied as if nothing was wrong.

You never thought your husband to be a jealous person and truly he was not. The possessiveness is what got you through.

It began small from making excuses on why you shouldn’t go out,

“It’s my day off!” or “It might rain soon.” Both are lazy excuses you’ve heard again and again. Yet you still seemed to fall again and again for his sunshine charms and wits.

You were the perfect lover to Jing Yuan, loving, kind, and malleable to believe whatever he wanted you to believe.

At some point after the large argument you two shared, you didn’t remember the last time when you had left the estate. 

You felt stuck, stuck on a carousel that kept going around and around and stuck trying to read between the lines of Jing Yuan’s perfect facade. If you caught him at the wrong time you wouldn’t see him for days and when he would return he would haphazardly apologize with the stupidest excuses. 

You never raised your voice anymore after THAT argument though. You were too scared to. So even when he scratches his name into your skin, even if he hugs you so tightly to the point that you feel like your lungs are collapsing, you find excuses for him. For yourself. To make this entire relationship work

Because you love him.

And you don’t not what scares you more anymore. The slight warning in his tone and the ever-present toxicity seeping its way into your originally “perfect” marriage. 

Or.

The fact you’ll still stay even if it gets worse.

Why?

Because you love him.

•••

Blade - Forced Proximity.

WHAT’S PLAYING: This is Love - Air Traffic Controller

There’s blood on the walls, the floors, and even on the couch. Anything you’ve been able to find you’ve smashed onto the ground. Your hands are covered in blood. No worries to Blade though. He sits on the couch covered in the blood of a man. Your eyes flicker to the dead body right in front of you. The now dead man who tried to help you escape from this prison Blade oh so lovingly calls “your” home to no avail.

Blade’s red eyes stare into the distance of space. Perhaps he’s wondering what he should do next for your transgressions. Perhaps he is wondering what he can do to make you smile again. Or maybe, he doesn’t care. Maybe he finds happiness and contentedness in your suffering. After all, a being who is forever stricken by mara might find peace in others' pain. 

But.

Past this mara-stricken being is a man who does have some semblance of love for you. Blade knew your every like and dislike. He would trail kisses up your neck and on your lips. You’d joke together. You both were disgustingly domestic at times. At least that’s what appeared. Loving Blade wasn’t difficult when every moment you breathed you were near him. 

You wear outfits perfectly fitted to your style sponsored by your self-proclaimed lover himself. Anything you want you’ll get. Jewels, clothing, books, anything you could ever desire. It’s nothing but pocket money for the Stellaron Hunter. 

Your mascara has been smudged after all the tears. Your sniffles fill up the room, you look at your palms. Hands covered in scratches and blisters from broken glass and accidental burns. You don’t have to worry though, Blade will patch it all up for you. This situation will fade into the past just like all the others. Your head peaks again at the dismembered and maimed body on the floor. You stop breathing yet again. You shut your eyes and open them once again when you feel a warm breath on your neck. 

It’s Blade, you can tell that the mara had warned off him. He tightens his arms around your body and somehow pulls you closer than he ever did before in your “relationship”. You blink once again as a tear rolls down your cheek and pray to any Aeon out there for help. Despite this, you're well aware it’s no use. There’s no place in the universe where Blade won’t find you. So you close your eyes to hum a broken chord as you prepare for the cycle to begin again.

•••

Sunday - Soulmates

WHAT’S PLAYING: Butch 4 Butch - Rio Romeo

Fairytale love stories where the prince and the princess lived happily ever after were something that you grew up with on your home planet. As you grew up though, “soulmates” left your mind. Other things like making credits and exploring the galaxies were more on your agenda than finding “true love”.

True love was a fairytale. Something that didn’t exist and that’s what you stood by ever since.

Ever since your planet was destroyed by its inhabitants. If people couldn’t love the homes they lived in how could they ever love one another?

You enjoyed travel, you enjoyed learning about other planets, cultures, and people. You didn’t have time for the nonexistent love. Though you enjoyed hearing the stories of it. You’ve met others who found their “soulmates”, their one and only blessed by the Aeons themselves. 

On your travel across the world, you stumbled on Penacony, The Planet of Dreams and Entertainment. The perfect and endless days are what brought you in the most. You could be there for days on end but turn out to only spend a couple of hours outside in the “real world”.

Real world huh?

You think you miss the real world a little bit. 

“Are the pastries not to your liking love?” Sunday inquires.

“They’re… fine.” You reply.

Sunday smiles. You don’t know what it means though. He smiles at everything, he smiles at gatherings, at your laughter, and even at the tears you desperately try to hold in. He thinks of you as something to be protected, something that should be kept safe in a cage, away from the tainted lies of others.

Everything feels uncomfortable, from the moment you met Sunday you felt an odd gravitational pull towards him. It was truly as if he was your soulmate. 

Except,

Something begged you to run away, something deep in the back of your soul. It all went away when you laid eyes on him though. 

You wish you listened to your fight AND flight response.

Everything you wear is coordinated by the Head of the Oak Family. From the tiniest detail to your entire personality. Sunday is a firm believer that only the true you can come out behind closed doors, with locks only he has access to. His mansion was the perfect enrichment for a now flightless bird like you. 

Perhaps the fairytales were somewhat true. The prince and the princess always seemed to stay forever together.

[doinkbunny]

✧₊⁺ THE RED MEANS I LOVE YOU 𝜗𝜚

𑁯 Yandere ENA admiring reader.

ᵎᵎ.˖ꪆ𖠵꒷ Pst! Cherry says: In which you ramble like a kid to ena but she's too distracted admiring to pay attention. This fic was fueled by my absolute adoration with this silly girl, i need her so baddd so i might make another fic like this if this gets enough attention. (There's mlp reference in this btw.)

.ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ Warnings: Obsession (duh), possessiveness, Meanie is almost cracking while salesman is on her last thread.

𝜗𝜚 Type: Fluff, romantic, one shot.

｡𖦹°‧ Song: Lovers rock.

"Beautiful, so beautiful," she felt so fuzzy anytime she looked or talked to you.

That's one of the many, many things you were doing to her, and there are so many reasons why. She loved the way your lips moved, the way you'd subtly increase the intensity of your gesticulation whenever you got too excited talking, and even when you would accidentally choke over your own words.

She was head over heels for you. It was quite the exquisite scenario, even: someone making the unforgivable and chaotic ENA grow a feeling or two. And obliviously.

You were sat with ENA near the lake, your hands moving random circles and squares in the air, your feet touching the water subtly with some of your hand movements while you intensely ranted to her, your excited tone never wavering.

And so did Ena's continuous admiration.

As you kept going with your explanation of some type of pony cartoon, Ena couldn't help but admire the way you looked so excited to talk to her, of all people. Most people would have distanced themselves once they heard the rumors about Ena, but you? No, you were different.

And maybe that's why she's so hooked, because you treated her like a human, something visible and with feelings—the bare minimum.

And only God knows how that made her feel good.

You made her feel something she'd never felt before so spontaneously, it was almost soul-bonding, and that's when she immediately knew you two needed to stay close.

To her luck, you actually enjoyed her presence and would often seek it more than she wished for, consequently making her need to see you satiated. That was good.

What was bad, though, were the times she'd have to stay away from you—unwillingly, making her miss you almost immediately.

These times would come so suddenly, and not only because of her stupid jobs from her deplorable job. Sometimes duty calls for you, and then, she'd be forced to just let you go.

While her salesman side was good at hiding her frustration, Meanie was almost combusting from the inside out, forcing Salesman to take control in order to avoid any... mistakes, letting you go so easily but hesitantly.

And once you're gone? That disgusting sensation of longing to feel you once again would fill her quite quickly; that would make any hidden frustration pop out like a balloon under any slight pressure.

Ena can't handle it—she wants you so badly. Your detailed and well-rendered polygons against her badly loaded ones makes her feel so less nauseous.

Gosh, she wishes she could just—

"Ena?" A voice calls out, her name catching the desired attention; hers, shutting down the continuation of her previous thought quickly, her head jerking slightly from on top of her palm that was supporting it before, her eyes landing on the source that called her name.

You.

Her signature smile popped on her face rapidly as once her attention was back to the world outside her thoughts, erasing any trace of possible tension.

"I'm sorry, my dear, I've gotten quite distracted by my own brain. What was the topic of the conversation, again?"

"Oh, nothing, just a silly show about ponies and friendship... What were you thinking about, anyways? You looked pretty deep in thought."

You curiously and somewhat worriedly asked, gaining a different type of endearing smile, a little short laugh, and a light pat on your head from Ena, her eyes closing ever so slightly with the smiling.

"I can assure you it's nothing but some silly reflections. Don't worry your pretty little head."

Word Count: 382