#wrote this on my work break. couldn’t get the idea out of my head | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skyguytoast · 4 months ago

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Swipe Right for Trouble - Dilf!Anakin x you

SYNOPSIS: Dilf!Anakin joins a dating site and comes away with more than he bargained for.

WORD COUNT: 5k

WARNINGS: +18, infidelity, cheating, age gap (Anakin is in his 40s and the reader is of legal age), sexting, both masturbating over video call, daddy kink

A/N: Hello everyone, this idea came to me out of nowhere and kept on hammering in my mind until I wrote it. I hope you like it, comments, reblogs and suggestions are always appreciated, kisses ;) Dividers by @cafekitsune

Sexting isn’t cheating.

Anakin repeated the thought like a mantra as he filled out the registration form. Technically, this wasn’t even a dating site. From what he’d read, it was more of a… transactional arrangement—an online space where men could chat with young women, spoil them with gifts, and, in return, receive whatever favors both parties agreed upon.

It wasn’t as if his marriage had collapsed overnight. That would have been easier to accept. No, it had been a slow, agonizing unraveling, a gradual drift until the distance between him and Padmé felt impossible to bridge. He couldn’t only blame her long hours at work or the way exhaustion made intimacy rare. He was just as guilty—guilty of giving up, of letting the silence stretch between them for too long, of resigning himself to wanting more but never asking for it.

Regret was useless now.

He exhaled sharply, scrolling through the feed. Most of the profiles were deliberately vague—faceless photos, silhouettes, glimpses of lips, collarbones, and hands. The usernames were just as cryptic, an endless parade of Kitten, Doll, and Baby designed to keep things impersonal.

Then, one caught his eye.

The photo showed nothing but a cascade of silky hair and a princess tiara perched atop it. Something about it—the soft, innocent playfulness—made him pause. Bunny. The name made him smirk. Cute.

A second later, the screen blinked. MATCH.

Anakin’s lips parted slightly. That was… fast. His stomach twisted, fingers hovering over the keyboard. What the hell was he supposed to say? How do you start a conversation like this?

A sharp ding cut through his hesitation.

You had messaged him first.

Anakin rubbed his jaw, still slightly in disbelief that he had actually gone through with this. It wasn't like him to engage in such... base activities. Especially not now. But his marriage had grown so distant, and he needed something—someone—to fill that void.

Just take a deep breath and respond, he told himself as he clicked on your message.

Bunny: Hi there, stranger~

Anakin blinked at the casual greeting, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Stranger? He chuckled softly to himself, realizing that, in this context, that was exactly what you were. Two anonymous figures behind a screen, playing a game neither of you had fully defined yet.

Hi yourself, he typed back, trying to match your easy tone. I like your tiara. It suits you.

The response didn’t come immediately, and in those few seconds, doubt crept in. Was he being too forward? Too personal? Was this a place for compliments, for flirting—or just for transactions?

Bunny: I like shiny things… and pink.

Short. Coy. Playful. The way you phrased it made something tighten in his chest. A flicker of amusement, curiosity, something dangerously close to interest.

I’ll remember that, he replied, his fingers moving with a newfound ease. Do you have a favorite shade of pink?

It was a simple question, innocent on the surface, but it carried weight. He wanted to keep you talking, wanted the conversation to stretch just a little longer. This was a break from reality, from work, from duty. A moment that felt light, free.

Bunny: Uhm… mostly pastel colors… ballerina pink, bubblegum pink.

He was about to type a response when another message popped up.

Bunny: Do you want me to send you the color hex so you don’t get my gift wrong?

Anakin laughed softly at the dig, shaking his head. So you had a sharp wit. He liked that.

No need for that, he typed back. I have a good eye for color. And I’m not planning on buying you a gift just yet.

There. He had said it—acknowledged the possibility of yet, of something more. It was a dangerous game, but one he was suddenly very willing to play.

Unless… He hesitated just long enough to let anticipation build. Unless you’d like to earn one first?

The reply came quicker than he expected.

Bunny: And what exactly do you want from me to deserve it?

A slow smirk spread across his lips. He had a feeling this conversation was only just getting started.

Anakin swallowed hard, a pulse of heat rolling through him at your bold question. He could feel it—something deep and dangerous stirring inside him—but he didn’t look away from the screen. Instead, he leaned in, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as he considered his next words carefully.

Well, for starters… He typed slowly, deliberately, letting the anticipation stretch. Tell me more about you.

It was a simple request on the surface, but the words carried weight, unspoken possibilities.

What does a cute little bunny like you do for fun?

His lips curled into a smirk as he hit send, already wondering just how far you'd be willing to take this game.

But you didn’t answer right away.

Anakin exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. Damn it. Maybe that was stupid. Cringe—wasn’t that the word people your age used? The last thing he wanted was to come off like some awkward old man trying too hard.

Before he could spiral further, his screen lit up with a new message.

Bunny: I love going to amusement parks—feeling my hair fly on the roller coaster, the Ferris wheel, the carousel…

Anakin smirked, the tension in his chest easing. There was something so effortlessly sweet about that answer, something playful. Of course you liked amusement parks. He could almost picture it—the wind in your hair, the sparkle in your eyes as you laughed on a ride.

And just like that, he wanted to know more.

Is that so? he typed back, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. I'll have to keep that in mind. Maybe I'll take you to a park sometime... among other things.

He paused, letting that statement linger on the screen. Let you wonder, let your imagination run wild. He certainly knew his was.

Tell me, do you have a favorite ride? he asked. One that really gets your adrenaline pumping?

Bunny: Probably the Ferris wheel, I love going there several times... I'm a little scared of the ghost train, however, I might try it if you promise to hold my hand.

A light blush crept across Anakin's cheeks as he read her message, a small smile tugging at his lips. Of course, a Ferris wheel was your favorite. He could picture it now—you sitting beside him, your shoulders brushing as you slowly rotated at the top, looking out over the park and the rest of the world spread out below you.

Don't worry, he typed, his fingers moving almost eagerly across the screen. I'd hold your hand through anything.

He paused, then added playfully, Besides, I think I'm pretty good at killing ghosts. Both the real kind and the fictional ones.

Your response was immediate.

Bunny: Oh, that’s good to know because I think my room might be haunted. Maybe you could come take a look?

Anakin sighed, shaking his head with a smirk. Gosh, you’re being so flirty.

Not that he minded. Not one bit.

Anakin leaned back in his chair, taking a moment to read your flirtatious message again. His smirk grew wider.

Well then, he replied, a playful lilt to his words. It looks like I'll have to schedule an investigation soon.

He paused, letting the innuendo linger for a moment. But he didn't stop there.

Of course, you know that ghost hunting can be quite...intense work. It may require a thorough search of every room. Every surface.

He knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. There was something about you, a freshness and boldness that drew him in.

Bunny: in my bed too? even under the covers?

Anakin's heart raced as he read your brazen message, a flood of improper thoughts rushing through his mind. The image of you tangled in the sheets, perhaps already flushed and breathless before he even arrived, was too much to ignore.

Especially under the covers, he typed back, not holding anything back. You never know where a ghost might hide, after all. I'll have to search everywhere, just to be safe.

He paused, letting the implication hang in the air. Then added one final line.

And I'll make sure to check every inch thoroughly. For any...abnormalities.

｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

As the days passed, your messages became more frequent, more daring. What started as playful teasing had turned into something else—something charged, something electric.

The flirting was relentless, a slow, delicious game neither of you wanted to stop. Anakin knew he was toeing the line, but God help him, he didn’t care. You were intoxicating—the way you teased him, the way you played innocent one moment and wicked the next.

And every time his screen lit up with a new message from you, he felt that same rush, that same heat pooling low in his stomach.

You had him hooked.

He knew he should put an end to this, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. It was like a drug, a dangerous high he didn't want to come down from.

Tell me... he paused, his fingers hesitating for only a moment. What do you usually sleep in at night? Or out of...

Anakin's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as the image loaded. The dim light of his quarters cast an intimate glow across his face, a face flushed with a growing heat that had nothing to do with the temperature. He leaned in closer, squinting to make out every exquisite detail of the photo, his eyes roaming hungrily over the exposed skin of your shoulders, the way the thin strap of your nightgown clung precariously to your frame.

His heart pounded in his chest as he watched, almost in slow motion, the strap slipping ever so slightly. He felt his mouth go dry, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as anticipation built inside him like a palpable force. And then, like a revelation, he caught sight of the swell of your breast, the tantalizing curve that promised so much more if only he could see just a little further.

Bunny: do you like to see more?

Fuck, he breathed, his voice low and rough with desire. I'd love to see more.

You send another message.

Anakin's heart raced as he stared at the image on his screen, his breath growing ragged. The sight of you kneeling there, clutching at the fabric of your nightgown, teasing him with a glimpse of the lace barely covering your butt, sent a jolt of lust straight to his aching cock.

Sweetheart, you're playing with fire, he typed, his fingers trembling slightly as they flew over the keys. Keep this up and I might just burn in the flames.

He palmed himself through his pants, unable to ignore the growing bulge that strained against the confines of his clothing. The urge to touch himself was overwhelming, but he resisted. He wanted to savor this moment, to draw out the delicious torture of anticipation.

What else do you want to show me? he asked. Where else would you like my eyes to wander?

Bunny: Uhm, I don't know, maybe you could buy me a lingerie set to wear just for you

Anakin's eyes darkened with lust as he read your suggestion, his mind racing with the possibilities. The idea of you modeling lingerie just for him, a matching set in a soft, delicate shade of pink, was almost too much to bear.

I think I'd like that very much, he replied. What color would you prefer? I'm thinking something soft and sexy, maybe a shade of pink to match your sweet smile.

He palmed himself more firmly through his pants, his cock throbbing beneath his touch. The urge to whip out his length and stroke himself to completion was strong, but he held back, wanting to make this moment last.

And maybe... he paused, letting the anticipation build. You could send me a picture of what you'd look like in it. Give me a little preview of what's to come.

Bunny: you know my address to send

Anakin couldn't keep the grin off his face as he hit the 'Confirm Purchase' button, his heart racing with anticipation. He had splurged on the most beautiful lingerie set he could find—the perfect shade of bubblegum pink, soft and shimmery, with delicate lace detailing. He couldn't wait to see it clinging to your curves, highlighting every inch of your gorgeous body.

I took your suggestion and one upped it, he typed, smirking to himself. It should be arriving at your doorstep tomorrow. I hope you like it as much as I think you will.

He paused, his mind already filling with the filthy images of your modeling it just for him.

Send me a picture as soon as you put it on. I want to see how stunning you look.

The next day, the first message was from you.

Bunny: Oh baby, I love it, give me a minute to put on my lingerie and we can do a video call

Anakin's breath caught in his throat, his heart hammering wildly in his chest as he read your response. A video call—that would be even better than any photo. He could see you, really see you, in the lingerie he had bought just for you.

I can't wait to see you in it, he typed back, his fingers shaking slightly. Meet me on a video call in 5 minutes.

He ended the message with a winking emoji, his mind already racing with the possibilities. The room was dim, the lighting soft and intimate, perfect for a private show. He could already picture you, perched on the edge of your bed, the pink lace clinging to your curves in all the right places.

Anakin took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He had to get his head in the game, had to remember that this was just a bit of fun, a distraction from his marriage's problems and the weight of his responsibilities. It didn't mean anything.

But even as he told himself that, he knew it was a lie. This meant something, even if he couldn't quite put his finger on what. All he knew was that he wanted more of you, and he would do whatever it took to get it.

Anakin locked the bedroom door, exhaling slowly as he leaned against it. He mentally thanked Padmé for the extra shift—how ironic. Not long ago, her long hours had been a source of frustration, the widening gap between them something he resented.

And yet here he was, grateful for the distance.

Grateful for the excuse.

His fingers hovered over his phone, anticipation thrumming through him. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. He knew this was dangerous.

But when your name lit up his screen, all reason faded.

Anakin took a deep breath as he tapped the button to accept the video call, his heart pounding in his chest. The screen flickered to life, and there you were—stunning, breathtaking, even more gorgeous than he had imagined.

His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you, clad in the lingerie he had purchased just for this moment. The soft pink lace clung to every curve, highlighting the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the tempting flare of your hips. It was everything he had hoped for and more.

“Fuck, you look incredible,” he breathed, his voice low and rough with desire. “That color was made for you.”

He couldn't take his eyes off you, drinking in every detail. The way the lace seemed to shimmer in the soft light, the way it hinted at the treasures hidden beneath. He felt his cock twitch and harden, straining against the confines of his pants.

“Turn around for me, sweetheart,” he instructed, his voice a low command. “Let me see all of you.”

You smiled amusedly. "Like this" you said happily, turning to show every bit of your skin to him.

Anakin's breath caught in his throat as you spun around, putting yourself on display just for him. The way the lingerie clung to your every curve was mesmerizing, the delicate lace accentuating your breasts, your toned belly, the gentle flare of your hips, and the tantalizing globes of your ass. He couldn't look away, his eyes roaming hungrily over every inch of exposed skin.

“Fuck, you're stunning,” he breathed. “I can't believe I bought that just for you. You look good enough to eat.”

He palmed himself through his pants, unable to ignore the ache of his hardening cock. The urge to reach down and free himself was overwhelming, but he resisted—for now. He wanted to savor this moment, to drink in every detail of your heavenly beauty.

“Lie back on the bed for me,” he instructed, his voice low and commanding. “Spread your legs, and show me what's mine.”

"Oh, baby, you're so bossy," you retorted softly, before biting your lower lip mischievously, adjusting your phone before approaching the bed. "But, I kind of like your dominant ways."

Anakin felt a thrill run through him at your playful words, his cock twitching in approval. He loved seeing this side of you, bold and teasing, more than eager to obey his every command. It was intoxicating, addictive, and he knew he could easily become drunk on the power.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice a low rumble as he watched you adjust your phone and get in the bed. “You're going to be so perfect for me.”

He drank in the sight of you settling onto the mattress, the soft pink lace a stark contrast against the white fabric. His heart raced as you slowly spread your legs, revealing more of your smooth, creamy thighs, the lace of your panties riding up to showcase the junction between your legs.

“That's it, sweetheart. Nice and slow,” he encouraged, his eyes glued to the screen, not wanting to miss a single second of your tantalizing display. “Show me everything you have to offer.”

Anakin's breath hitched as he watched you slip your delicate hand beneath the lace, his cock throbbing almost painfully against his pants. The sight of you touching yourself, your eyes fluttering closed in pleasure, was almost too much to bear. He could see the growing damp spot on your panties, evidence of your arousal, and it made him ache to be the one to bring you to the edge of ecstasy.

“You're so beautiful like this,”he breathed, his voice rough with desire. “Don't stop touching yourself. I want to watch you.”

He couldn't tear his eyes away from your hand moving beneath the fabric, imagining how soft and smooth your folds were, how wet and ready you were becoming. His own hand drifted down to palm himself more firmly through his pants, squeezing and stroking along the hard length of his cock.

“Tell me how it feels,” he commanded, his voice a low, urgent growl. “Describe it to me in detail. I want to know everything.”

"I'm so wet for you, my fingers are slipping so easily" you whimpered, touching yourself, sighs of pleasure escaping your mouth.

Anakin groaned as he listened to your breathy words, the sound of your pleasure shooting straight to his aching cock. He could picture your fingers gliding effortlessly through your slick folds, your body responding to your own touch, preparing itself for him. The knowledge that he was the cause of your arousal was intoxicating, fueling his own desire.

‘Is that so?” he growled, his hand drifting to the fastenings of his pants. “I can hear how much you're enjoying yourself. How wet you're getting just from my command.”

He popped open the button of his pants, freeing his straining erection. It sprang forth, thick and hard, the head already glistening with precum. He wrapped a hand around his throbbing shaft, squeezing and stroking himself in time with the rhythm of your breathy sighs.

“Touch your pretty pussy, baby,” he ordered, his voice a low, dominating rumble. “Rub those pretty little circles around it, nice and slow. Pretend it's my fingers touching you, pleasuring you.”

"Your fingers are so much bigger than mine, they would feel so good in my pussy," you whimpered.

Anakin's breath grew ragged as he listened to the obscene sound of your fingers plunging in and out of your dripping cunt, your sweet little whimpers and sighs filling the air. His cock throbbed and leaked in his hand as he picked up the pace, stroking himself faster in time with the slick sounds of your touching.

“Fuck, I'd love to sink my fingers deep inside your tight little pussy,” he groaned, his voice strained with lust. “To feel your velvety walls squeezing around me as I pump in and out.”

He could only imagine how perfect you would feel, how hot and wet and ready you would be for him. His cock ached with the desire to plunge into your depths, to stretch you open and claim you as his own.

“Slick your clit with your juices,” he commanded, his breath coming faster now. “Get it nice and wet, just like your hungry little hole. Pretend it's my tongue, teasing and circling as I taste your sweet cum.”

You moaned, your hair spreading across the sheets as you rubbed yourself harder. "tell me what to do, tell me what your good girl needs to do?"

Anakin's heart raced as he watched you come undone on the screen, your hair splayed across the sheets, your hips rocking against your hand as you rubbed yourself with wanton desperation. Your breathy moans and whimpers filled his ears, spurring on his own desperate stroking.

"You're being such a good girl for me," he praised, his voice a low, approving growl. "Touching yourself just like I told you to. So eager and obedient."

He could see how soaked your panties were, the lace darkened with your juices, your pussy aching to be filled. His cock throbbed in his fist, the head flushed a deep, angry red, leaking steadily now.

"Take off your bra," he ordered, his voice a commanding rumble. "I want to see your perfect tits bouncing free. Play with your nipples as you fuck yourself with your fingers."

Anakin's breath caught in his throat as he drank in the perfect sight of your breasts spilling free from your bra, the delicate pink of your nipples a perfect match to the lingerie that hugged your curves. They were even more beautiful than he had imagined, full and round, the peaks already hardened into tight little buds just beginning to be touched.

"Your tits are perfect," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "Even better than I dreamed they would be."

He tightened his grip around his throbbing cock, pumping himself faster as he watched you on the screen. The sight of you touching yourself, playing with your dripping cunt and your perfect breasts, was almost too much to bear.

"Pinch your nipples," he commanded, his voice a low, dominating growl. "Roll and tug on them, just like I would with my fingers. Imagine it's my mouth, my teeth grazing the sensitive flesh."

He could only imagine the taste of you, the feeling of your hardened nubs against his tongue as he sucked and teased, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. His cock throbbed in his hand, the pleasure building to a fever pitch as he watched you pleasure yourself just for him.

With one hand you squeezed your breast, pinching the nipple until it hardened completely, without ever stopping touching yourself. "Uhm, talk dirty to me, tell me what you're doing, what my body makes you feel."

Anakin groaned as he watched you touch yourself with wild abandon. "I'm stroking my hard, aching cock as I watch you. Watching you play with your perfect tits, squeezing and pinching those pretty pink nipples until they're stiff peaks."

"I can feel every inch of you, even from here. The way your tight little pussy clenches around your fingers as you fuck yourself, so desperate for more. The way your breasts bounce and jiggle as you touch yourself, just the way I want to touch them."

He pumped his cock faster, the slick sounds of his stroking filling the air. "I'm imagining burying my face between your legs, my tongue delving deep into your sweet cunt. Licking up every drop of your juices, fucking you with my tongue until you scream."

"I want to bite down on your nipples, to mark you as mine. I want to suck and tease until you're writhing beneath me, begging for more. Tell me what you want, sweetheart," he growled, his breath ragged and intense. "What does my good girl need?"

"I want to cum, daddy." You whimpered, confused in your haze of pleasure, taking a few seconds to realize what had slipped from your tongue.

"Daddy?" Anakin retorted, his deep voice filling your room and making you open your eyes, your cheeks flushing.

Anakin froze, his heart pounding in his chest as the words echoed in his ears. Daddy. It had slipped out, a moment of unguarded passion and desperation. For a moment, he felt a pang of unease, a flicker of doubt. This was wrong, he knew it was. He was crossing a line, one that he shouldn't be crossing.

"I'm sorry, I, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," you mumbled nervously.

But as he looked at you on the screen, flushed and panting, your gorgeous body on display just for him, he felt his resolution crumble. He wanted you, more than anything. And if you wanted to call him daddy, if that's what got you off...

"Shh, it's okay, sweetheart," he soothed, his voice a low, intimate murmur. "I like it. I like it a lot."

He stroked himself slower, more deliberately, putting on a show for you. "Tell me what you want daddy to do to you."

He wanted to hear you say it, to put voice to the filthy, forbidden thoughts running through your mind. He wanted to be the one to bring you to the edge, to make you scream and shake and cum harder than you ever had before.

"Beg for it, baby. Beg daddy to make you cum."

"Please, daddy, I want to cum so bad, I want you to guide me, let your voice take me to heaven" you whine, feeling the descent of your hips warming up.

Anakin's heart raced as he listened to your desperate pleas, his cock throbbing and pulsing in his hand. The way you said daddy, the need and longing in your voice, it set him on fire. He stroked himself faster, the slick sounds of his hand pumping his shaft filling the room.

"Fuck, I love hearing you beg for it like that," he groaned, his voice a low, approving rumble. "Like a needy little girl begging her daddy to take care of her."

He could feel your desperation, the way your hips were rocking and grinding against your fingers, chasing your climax. He wanted to be the one to give it to you, to feel your cunt clench and flutter around his cock as he fucked you into oblivion.

"Focus on my voice, baby. Let it guide you, take you higher," he commanded, his breath coming faster now. "Imagine it's my hands on your body, touching and stroking every inch of you."

"Fuck yourself harder, sweetheart. Shove your fingers deep inside your greedy little cunt. Imagine it's my cock, stretching you open, filling you up." Anakin murmured, his voice husky and engaging. "Let yourself go, baby. Cum for daddy. Cum all over your fingers like the good little girl you are. Let me hear you scream."

Anakin grunted and shuddered as he watched you come undone, your body convulsing on the screen as the intense waves of your climax crashed over you. The sound of your scream, raw and primal, filled the air as you cried out his name, your pussy clenching and fluttering around your fingers in ecstasy.

"Fuck yes, that's it! Cum for daddy, baby! Cum hard on your fingers like a good girl," he roared, his own orgasm surging through him as he stroked himself to completion. Thick ropes of hot, sticky seeds erupted from his cock, spurting onto his hand and stomach as he rode out the intense pleasure.

He couldn't take his eyes off you, drinking in every second of your pleasure, the way your gorgeous tits bounced and jiggled as you writhed and bucked beneath your own touch. He felt a surge of male pride and possessiveness, knowing that he had brought you to such heights of ecstasy.

"You're so fucking beautiful when you cum for me," he breathed, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. "Such a perfect, perfect good girl for daddy."

"And this is just the beginning, sweetheart. Wait until I get my hands on you for real."

"I'll wait, daddy," you whimpered, your eyes blinking back to focus on his face after your mind-blowing orgasm. "I'll count the days until it happens."

Anakin's heart raced as he heard your breathless promise, a thrill running through him at the thought of the forbidden future that lay ahead. The knowledge that you would be waiting for him, eager and ready, made his spent cock twitch and started to fill and harden once more.

"I'll be counting down the days too, baby girl," he murmured. "Already thinking about all the naughty, filthy things I'm going to do to this sexy little body of yours."

He took in the sight of you, flushed and panting, your skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat from your intense climax. The lingerie you wore, the lingering desire for you... it was all seared into his mind, a deliciously sinful memory to treasure.

"But for now, you should get some rest, sweetheart. Recover your strength. Because when I finally have you in my arms, I'm going to need you at your best. I'm going to fuck you in ways you've never been fucked before."

He reached out to caress the screen, wishing he could feel the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips. "Sweet dreams, my little girl. Dream of daddy, and all the dirty, wonderful things we're going to do together."

"Until next time," he promised darkly, before ending the call with a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

#anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #anakin smut #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars #anakin x reader #hayden christensen x reader #dilf!anakin #dilf!anakin x you

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bontentrio · 8 months ago

Text

ATEEZ GETTING OUT OF THE FRIENDZONE

san x gn reader + mingi x gn reader (separated)

part 2 to ateez stuck in the friendzone! read that part so this makes sense

tw: slow burn + veeery dramatic + angst + fluff

a/n: both have the slowestttt slow burns in history of friends to lovers omg my heart did kinda break a little while writing them lol so keep in mind that both are VERY dramatic. maybe even cliche but honestly i just wrote what i, personally, enjoy reading. i’m just a girl in love with love 🥹

masterlist

SAN

san found himself attempting to hide his smile while you told him about your awful date from a few days ago. you were laying down with your head on his lap as san casually untangled strands of your hair, while you rambled on and on about the misfortunes he secretly thought were fortunes in disguise.

“who talks about their mother on the first date? like the whole time i mean, of course it’s okay to mention one or two things following the context of the conversation” you said, moving your hands dramatically to prove your point “but the whole time? i tried to switch the topic of the conversation towards work and can you believe he told me about what his mother does for a living before telling me what HE does for HIS?”

san couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh. you were so cute and he was so happy and relieved that the date had failed.

“he should go to therapy” he said, in between giggles. “right?! sigmund freud would have been thrilled to have him as a patient” you exclaimed, laughing too.

after a few moments of cracking jokes and laughing about the situation, you turned your head to face san. “so what about you?” you asked. he looked down at you, smile on his face still. “what about me?”

“have you gone on dates lately?” you asked. he threw his head back, shaking it slightly “with what time? i’m too busy with schedules” he answered, half lying. it’s true that he’s very busy with his idol duties, but he always managed to make time for you. he knows he could easily use up that time to go on dates, but for obvious reasons that you still were ignorant to, he didn’t. to you, he was just an introvert.

“but are you not interested in anyone?” you pushed, lifting your head and sitting up to face him properly. san chose to avoid your eyes, not trusting himself to keep his own secret. instead, he looked to the city on his right, suddenly finding the building architectures more interesting. he noticed that the air in the terrace got warmer too, and the concrete platform you were sitting on got harder. or was he the one that got warmer and stiffer? “no, i don’t think so” he lied, but you knew him enough to see through it. “liar, you’re blushing”

“well it is an intimate question” he answered, attempting to smile in order to play it off. you shook your head no “you blushed and your left eye twitched a bit. that was definitely a lie and as your best friend i want to know!” you exclaimed, grabbing his hands. if only you knew the effect you had on him.

when he came back from tour, he was determined to confess. but now that the perfect opportunity arose, he couldn’t open his mouth. questions and different negative scenarios plagued his mind, convincing him that maybe it was a bad idea. he much rather work on moving on than lose you as a friend.

“are they that special to you?” you asked, in a much quieter tone of voice, noticing his silence. he nodded, staring at your eyes, hoping you could notice the love they held whenever he looked at you. but despite his desperation, you didn’t. “they are very lucky then, you genuinely are amazing in every aspect sannie”. you continued, going back to your original place with your head on his lap, but still holding his hands. he kept staring at you, if only you knew.

“thank you” san managed to say.

———

“how fast can you come over to help me with something?” you asked san on the phone, as he exited the practice room. it was like the stars aligned, because he had just finished for the day. “i can come over right now, are you okay?” he asked, worried something may be wrong despite you sounding relatively okay. “i can’t pick an outfit and- shit my aunt his calling me, invite yourself in when you arrive, i’m in my room and you already know the lock number of the door” you said, before hanging up.

outfit for what?

———

so that’s how san found himself sitting on your bed on a friday night, numerous pieces of clothing scattered all over without care. he scrolled through some unread messages while he waited for you to try on a different outfit for your new date. yes, new date. as if his heart haven’t just healed from last time.

“i matched with someone on this app and they immediately invited me on a date so now i’m having a fashion crisis” you had explained to him as soon as he entered your room. why was it so hard for you to realize that your dates have been failing for a reason?

you appeared once again, now wearing an outfit that honestly took san’s breath away as soon as his eyes landed on your figure. it was nothing too extravagant, actually, it was rather simple, but it was enough to make san’s head spiral. specially when you twirled around to show the outfit from the back, since your shirt had an open back.

“so? what do we think?” you asked, eyes filled with hope.

san was conflicted: he was 100% sure he has never seen anyone look more beautiful, more dashing, more perfect. but, it wasn’t for him. he didn’t want anyone else to look at you like that, they would never come remotely close to the way he feels about you.

“san-?” you started to ask after a few seconds of silence, but got interrupted by him: “don’t go on that date”

you looked at him confused, as he stared back with the same surprised face. that really had slipped from his lips before he realized what he was saying. you fucked up big time san, he thought to himself.

“why? do i really look that bad?” you asked, turning around to face the mirror in order to examine your body and face. he noticed the way your eyes dimmed, as you carefully traced your eyes over your figure, finding little imperfections that made your face turn into a sad frown. san felt his own heart shatter at the sight, and before he knew, he stood up and quickly hugged you from behind, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“sannie?” you asked, startled by his sudden action and making you momentarily forget about the insecurities that started flooding your mind. you looked at him through the mirror: even if he was leaning down on you, he was still much wider, making you feel very small in his arms. unconsciously, you lifted your hand and patted his hair. san lifted his head, looking at you through the mirror as well, and your eyes interlocked.

“you’re perfect y/n” he whispered. “i’m sorry if i gave you the wrong idea, you look beautiful and your date is very lucky”. he was trying to be supportive, but traces of sadness and desperation were evident in his face. enough for you to notice. you turned around, and the same hand that was patting his head went down to his cheek, holding him in place to look at you.

“what’s wrong san?” you asked, softly. your thumb traced comforting circles on his cheek, and you could feel his arms tighten around you as he closed his eyes.

“go on that date” he whispered in a shaky voice, before adding “you look beautiful”.

you stared at him confused for a few moments, not really knowing what to say. then, he kissed your forehead and, with the little bit of strenght he had left in him, unwrapped his arms, stepping back. he grabbed his jacket and went to the door, but not before shooting you another sad look and saying “like i said, your date is very lucky”.

he left, heart in his hands, slowly breaking with each step.

you cancelled the date.

———

san couldn’t sleep that night, he kept tossing and turning as his mind wandered about what you were doing with your date. were you still having dinner? no, probably not since it’s like 2 am. maybe it went so well that you invited them over for coffee at your place, something that will probably lead to something else. something he didn’t even want to imagine, since it wasn’t him committing those sins.

maybe it was time to move on, after all. he wants you to be happy, truly, so if your happiness doesn’t include him, then he should at least be supportive. and in order to do that from the bottom of his heart, he should move-

*knock knock knock* he heard, coming from the door. he decided to ignore it, thinking that it was probably mingi, so he turned around and closed his eyes, pretending he was asleep.

“maybe he’s asleep, i should come back tomorrow but thank you soenghwa” he heard you say from behind the door. he never got out of bed faster, as he sprinted to the door and opened it widely.

there you stood, now dressed in a familiar oversized shirt and baggy pants. completely different from the outfit he last saw you on, but to him you still looked beautiful. you looked at him with wide eyes, as seonghwa smirked next to you.

“i’ll leave you alone” he said, before he made his way to his room and shut the door behind him.

you stood there awkwardly, avoiding his eyes. you came here with a question, but now that you had san right in front of you, thoughts were scattered all over your mind and you couldn’t say a word.

“come in” he said, sensing your internal dilemma. you nodded in response, as you entered and made your way to his unmade bed.

“did i wake you up?” you asked. san shut the door and shook his head “actually i couldn’t sleep”

“me neither” you said in a low voice.

“how was your date?” he asked, unsure of what to say. he sat next to you on the bed, looking at you while trying to decipher your expression. you turned your head to san’s bedside table, finding the small plushie you once gifted him randomly. you smiled. “i cancelled it”

“what? why?!” he asked, with surprised wide eyes. you turned back to him. “i suddenly didn’t want to go, that’s it really. so while i was tidying up my room i found this shirt” you said, fiddling with the ends of the shirt that looked a little too big on you “the one you once lent me after we got stuck in the rain that one time. i told you i would wash it and give it back, but i didn’t. why didn’t i give it back to you?”

san stared at you in silence.

“so i realized it still had your perfume, and before i knew it, i had put it on. then i started thinking about you, about us. you’re my best friend, you know? but as i was laying down on my bed, i was thinking: what if you were not? what if my dates always failed for a reason?” you continued, as your fingers reached for his. “what if the reason they always failed was because i always searched you in them? so again, before i realized i was standing in front of your apartment, but with one question in my mind”

san could feel his heart beat increase and his breath shorten.

“what will happen to us and our friendship if i told you how i feel? how i think i always felt even if i didn’t know it?” you asked, looking at him scared.

“you’re dumb” he said, loud enough for only you to hear. that didn’t surprise you, what did was the way he immediately let go of your hand in order to hug you close, bringing you closer to his body. “what will happen? how would i feel? y/n you’re dumb because that’s how i’ve been feeling for a long time now” he said, hands leaving your waist and craddling your face. san stared at you, and now you realized that his eyes looked different: they held love in them. something you always searched on random people in dating apps, yet were never able to find. instead, it has been right in front of you this whole time.

“i love you” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. finally, he thought. he finally said the words he has been keeping locked deeply inside him for years. you smiled, as your nose touched his. “i love you too, i’m sorry i just realized”

maybe it was time to give you the silver necklace he bought you on tour, since now the timing was right.

MINGI

mingi missed you, a lot. he hadn’t heard from you since you stormed out of his house a week and a half ago. he had left you a couple of texts apologizing, and even attempted calling you, but to no avail. you had disappeared, and he didn’t blame you, he was stupid enough to let you go. in fact, that’s the thing he regretted the most about the fight: not chasing after you.

so he did what he knew best: he took his misery and transformed it into work, to be precise, he wrote three songs, all about his feelings, the situation in itself and you.

three different scenarios that made him hear yunho’s voice calling him dramatic in his mind. to be honest, he knew he was being a little dramatic about the situation. he knew that you probably just needed time to cool down, and that if his apology was good enough you would forgive him in a heart beat, because, in the end, he knew you loved him. maybe not in the way he wished for, but you loved him nonetheless.

mingi stared at the ceiling in silence, wondering what were you doing while he layed on his bed feeling miserable. did you miss him too? were you also thinking about him? he was certain of one thing only: he wanted to see you. it didn’t matter to him if you opened the door or not, he needed to at least hear your voice through the door.

he checked the time: 11:47 pm, almost midnight. fuck it, he thought. he stood up and quickly got dressed in a speed record time, tied up his shoes and grabbed his keys and song notebook in the process. by 11:55 pm he was already closing the door of his car.

as mingi started driving, questions also started flooding his mind: will you hate him if he suddenly showed up? what if you had invited someone over? shouldn’t he have discussed this with one of his friends first just in case?

questions, questions, questions.

no answers.

soon enough, he found himself standing in front of your apartment door. he could easily ring the door bell, knock on the door or simply use the spare key you gave him once for emergencies. yet, he was unable to do any, frozen in place as he mentally debated on what to do.

mingi decided to do something odd, something he would have probably laughed at if he saw it in one of the movies you usually forced him to watch with you: he took out his pen and notebook, ripped off one of the pages and wrote on it. then, he slid it under the door and left.

“i’ll tell you everything -m”

———

you have always been a hopeless romantic, mingi knew that perfectly well. you believed in happy endings, and that love and friendship can win over everything. so why hasn’t he heard from you still? did you not get the note? should he leave another one? no, that would be too pushy, it was only two days ago.

questions, questions, questions.

still no answers.

mingi was sulking again, and honestly it started to worry seonghwa and san, who watched as he walked back to his room right after dinner, without saying a word during the whole night. honestly, he was just too lost in his thoughts. their pair exchanged a look, before following him.

“mingi, hold up, everything okay? you’re more… distracted than usual” seonghwa said, carefully choosing his words. mingi hummed in response, nodding as he stopped in his tracks. “yeah, there’s just a lot in my head” he answered, not looking at his friends. “let us hear it then” san said, patting his back and leading them towards the living room.

the trio sat down on the sofa they had bought a few months ago, the one you had scolded them about because it seemed very expensive and too hard to clean. they had all laughed, but soon enough realized you were right when mingi spilled a bit of sauce on it. the stain was still there.

“so? what’s wrong?” seonghwa asked once they all got comfortable. mingi sighed, looking down before he started spilling everything that had happened, from two weeks ago until now. he noticed the eldest nodding along the story, but neither of them said anything until he finished.

“when exactly did you leave this note?” san asked, fidgeting with his bracelet. “two days ago” mingi answered. san’s eyes went wide, as he muttered a small fuck before he sprinted towards the kitchen. seonghwa and mingi exchanged a look, both equally confused at their friend’s actions. after a few moments and very weird sounds that came from the kitchen, san appeared again, with a crumbled up yellow post it in his hand. he handed it to mingi.

“the hell is this? it has food stains san, gross” mingi said with a disgusted face as he barely touched the paper. “open it, i found it this morning” san said, sitting down next to him again. mingi gave his friends a strange look, before carefully opening the crumbled up piece of paper. as he read, his eyes widened in surprise.

“what time is it?!” he exclaimed. “9 pm” seonghwa answered, checking the time in his phone. mingi muttered a small fuck, before putting his shoes on, and grabbing his bag.

“i’ll be back in a while” he said, before shutting the door behind him.

seonghwa looked at san, confused. “what the hell did the paper say?” he asked. san picked it up from the floor and showed it to him:

“8 pm, our special place”.

the hand writing was yours.

———

mingi was almost sure he broke one or two speeding laws on his way to the park where he hoped you were still waiting at. he cursed san for not telling him sooner, even if he knew it wasn’t really his fault to begin with. the park wasn’t far from his apartment though, just a short 10 minute drive. as cliche as it sounds, it was the park were you both met.

at that time, around 6 years ago or so, his mind revolved around perfection, hard work, pressure, debut. so he would succumb to overwhelming feelings pretty often, that forced him to need some time alone. that’s how he found a park nearby, and specifically, one peculiar tree that caught his attention for some reason. he used to sit down under it, notebook on his lap and pen between his fingers, as he scribbled down some random thoughts that plagued his mind during hard moments. he didn’t really plan to turn his words into songs yet, it was just his way to deal with stress. he used to find these little moments very special: it was like he was reconnecting with his inner, truer self, and not the mean facade he wore in front of his soon to be members. yeah, some of them irked him, like that wooyoung guy, but he didn’t mean to be that rude all the time. so, to escape the constant pressure kq fellaz was facing in between the company walls, he found solace in a park, but specifically, he found solace under that tree.

he could remember the day he met you like it was yesterday. he remembers all the stress he was feeling, debut date coming closer and closer. everyone was on edge, from the members to the staff. he had also recently come back from morocco after successfully shooting his first music video! but he couldn’t deny it: as much as he was excited, he was already feeling a little tired. he needed some alone time, just himself with his thoughts. so he found himself walking towards his favorite spot in the park.

only to find you there, sitting down under the tree. his tree to be precise. and you were writing on a pink notebook with a fluffy pen. mingi felt like he was looking at a reflection of himself, but instead of being comforted by it, he felt annoyed. it was HIS tree after all!

“excuse me, this is my spot” he said, coming into your field of vision. you looked up to him, pausing your hand and taking an earphone off. “excuse me?”

“this is my spot” he reiterated, making you chuckle slightly. “the tree you mean? does it have your name or something?” you asked, finding the situation hilarious. he rolled his eyes in annoyance, why did nothing go his way?! “listen, i had a shitty day and i need to sit there for a while, so can you leave?”

“no, i got here first. plus there are tons of other trees here, it’s a park after all” you said, putting your earphone back on and turning your gaze to your notebook. he stayed still in his place in front of you, making you huff in annoyance at his persistence. “look dude, i am not going to move. you can either sit on the opposite side or leave, i don’t care but stop bothering me” you continued.

mingi really really reaaaally needed to be at his safe place, too overwhelmed to funcion rationally, so he rolled his eyes and sat on the opposite side of the tree.

that’s how the story started: at opposite sides of the tree. soon enough it got replaced by sitting nearby, and eventually next to each other. some times you would even bring snacks to share in silence, as you both wrote down your thoughts on your respective notebooks. once he debuted, he broke the silence for the first time, urging you to listen to his song. after that, you started talking more, about music, shows, your respective jobs and life in itself. the safe place you both found under the tree, was also found in each other, quickly realizing you often shared the same thoughts and views about the world.

the story started under a tree, and he hoped it wouldn’t end there too. he needed you to be there, because he wasn’t ready to lose not only his best friend, but also his safe place. even the tree would become stained from the pain. and he would have nothing left, just questions, questions, and more questions about different what ifs.

you weren’t there.

but mingi wasn’t about to give up anytime soon. he started running towards the direction of your apartment, forgetting that he had parked the car on the opposite direction. his legs were aching, and he felt like he was a bit out of breath, despite all the idol training he has been enduring for six years. but he kept running.

until he spot you in the distance.

“y/n!” he yelled. he saw you stop in your tracks and turn around to his direction, confused at the sudden call of your name. once you spotted him running towards you, you sprinted to him.

his body collapsed against yours, as he hugged you tightly, like you would disappear if he let you go. mingi hid his face in the crook of your neck as you wrapped your arms around his back. you could hear his quick heart beat from how close he held you, and you were sure he could hear yours too.

after a while, mingi lifted his head from your neck, and looked at you. “why are you crying?” he asked, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “i thought you wouldn’t come, why are you crying mingi?” you asked, repeating his own actions, but on his cheeks. he giggled, he didn’t even realize he was crying. “i thought i lost you” he said, truthfully.

the park was dark, the only lights came from street lights. so, for outsiders, you probably looked like a random couple having a dramatic moment. definitely not mingi from idol group ateez and his best friend y/n reconciliating.

“i’m sorry” he whispered, locking his eyes with yours. they still held tears, that threatened to spill depending on your answer. you shook your head “no, i’m sorry mings, i shouldn’t have walked away like that. plus i didn't even give you a chance to explain”.

“i’m sorry for not showing you the songs, for not chasing you, and for being too much of a coward to not face you directly” he apologized. you hugged him again, shushing him. “i shouldn’t have pressured you to show me, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do”

mingi looked at you again, and bit his lip. “can i still show you though?”

“it’s not necessary, mingi, it’s fine real-“ you started saying before he interrupted you, taking your hand and leading you towards the same old place from before. “i want to” he said, determined.

you let him whisk you away.

———

back at the peculiar tree that was iluminated enough by a street lamp a few meters away, he sat you down at your usual spot. he sat down beside you, as he pulled out his notebook from his bag. mingi gave it to you.

“mingi, this really isn’t necessary-“ you started saying once again. “please” he interrupted, with pleading eyes. so you took his notebook and opened it on the first page. you already read that song, it was the first one he ever wrote a long while back. “read the last ones”

you turned the pages, until you found them. mingi looked at you nervously, starting to feel fidgety at the thought of you realizing his deepest secret, the only one he hid from you. he just hoped you wouldn’t hate him. he scanned your face, puffy eyes filling with tears once again as realization hit you. you turned your gaze back to him with wide, surprised eyes.

“mingi- what? wait, hold on” you stammered, as tears fell from your eyes. you quickly set his notebook aside to grab your own bag, taking out your new pink notebook, your diary. you handed it to him, saying: “open it on august 5th”

he stared at you confused, and slightly unsure too, since you’ve always been pretty secretive about what you wrote there. he found the page and read:

“august 5th.

so i realized something, that i’m almost too afraid to write even here. i’m scared that if i admit it, i’ll have to face a sad reality. i think i’m in love with my best friend, isn’t that stupid? that’s how i feel, at least. i haven’t seen him in a while because of his work, and i feel like i’m slowly losing my mind. why do i only feel complete when he’s with me? scratch that, why am i even writing this?

anyways, i’ll probably die with the secret”

“now turn to september 16th” you said, avoiding his eyes.

“september 16th.

i’m in love with my best friend. i love mingi. how insane is that? and how stupid? he is my best friend, for god’s sake. but i can’t help the way i feel, specially when he’s so annoyingly observant. like for example, the other day he noticed my pen was dying, so today he surprised me with a new fluffy pink pen. i hate him for making my heart swell at such gestures. specially because i know I KNOW that’s what best friends do.

anyways i’m not gonna use his pen because i decided i’m going to preserve it forever”

“and now, tun to november 10th” you muttered. mingi realized it was yesterday’s date.

“november 10th.

i still love him. and i fucked up. but i’m still in love with him”

he closed your notebook, turning towards you. he found you with your face on your knees, as you hugged your legs, too embarrassed to face him, despite now knowing his feelings. he loves you too, with the same devotion, with the same desperation and intensity. mingi loves you, his best friend.

“look at me, y/n” he whispered. you slowly lifted your head, hesitantly looking at him. the way you both looked at each other held more intimacy than ever. mingi slowly reached for you, bringing your face closer to his. his hold was shaky, almost unsure, this was a whole new territory. he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“i love you” he admitted.

too many questions, that finally got an answer.

“i love you too” you whispered.

taglist: @yoongles2025 @reallychaoticwoo

(to be added please let me know)

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whoisraii · 2 months ago

Text

☆ WIN IT FOR YOU — LN4

summary: it was his home race and all he wanted to do was win it for you...

F1 MASTERLIST

pairing: Lando Norris x f!reader

word count: 13.8k

cw: slow burn, happy ending, fluff, use of y/n, race calendar skipped after miami <3

note: request on my blog<3 okay this is like the first fic I wrote in months...kinda let my fingers slip...hope I did lando justice with this one 😭...also like the Lando hate is forced in my opinion...like give the guy a break he already has a lot on his plate..

Playlist for this fic <3 - I'd tell you to listen to these because it creates the ambiance better {I wrote while listening to these} so the thoughts run better...

THE SOUND OF FLASH shot in the room echoing on the walls...the air conditioner chilled the room as jacob redefined his pose for the next cover photo…(Y/n) softly hummed as her fingers perfected the shot and another sound of the flash echoed across the room…Jacob clears his throat as she gets lost in the controls of her camera… “You know…we have been here for 4 hours (Y/n)…I think it's time we wrap it up now..don't we?”

(Y/n) sighed as she nodded… “Yeah..good idea..I’ll go home load these up on my laptop and get them done by tomorrow..how does that sound?” Jacob nodded and got out of the chair and walked to the nearby table and uncapped a disposable bottle and gulped half of it down in one go… The sound of zips was heard as (Y/n) packed up all the equipment and slinged her duffel bag across her shoulder as she walked downstairs from the studio…

Her consciousness was pretty blurred due to the earphones blaring music at full volume in her ears as she took out her umbrella and shook it open putting it above her head as she began to walk across the street while scrolling on her feed…Suddenly a horn blared up and (Y/n)’s eyes widened…she looked to her left and it was almost too late…the car was just too close… (Y/n) groaned as it hit her almost softly, being braked at almost the perfect time…A guy got out of the car as she groaned rubbing her thigh… “If I was you…I’d at least keep one ear open while scrolling like that in the middle of the street” The guy said in one go…He had curly hair..tanned skin…and a look in his eyes she quite couldn’t place a finger on.. “I’m sorry..” (Y/n) mumbled as she looked around…Her eyes fell on the time on her phone screen as it displayed the number 7:30pm boldly on the top of her lockscreen…she fixed herself quickly before muttering an apology to the man and quickly making a run to the bus stop with her umbrella shielding her as much as it could… What had she been thinking when she had told Jacob that she would have given him the photos by tomorrow…hell she didn't even know if she was going to make it to her dorm to finish her assignment and turn it in by the deadline she had…

The bus ride had been really quiet…even with her earphones in her ears…it just wasn't like the other times she took the bus…(Y/n) would be lying if she said that everything felt normal nowadays…in fact if she had to phrase the mental bullshit she had been undergoing…everything felt late, weird, time consuming and unfruitful… Sure she was a perfect student with a part time job as a florist…But it wasn't as easy as she had thought when she had started out…being a history major…oh that was worse… It took her the exact time of an hour and eleven minutes to complete that damn paper that was sitting in her portals with a deadline that was about to end at 57 minutes…she hit submit before opening the editing app before exporting jacob’s photos and getting to work… An hour passed as she finally finished editing half the pictures…(Y/n) groaned as she held her head and rose from her bed and walked herself to the kitchen to get herself a coffee…she was scrolling on her phone while the coffee was being prepped… That’s when he saw him…the same guy from the evening…but..oh..Oh..oh lord what the actual fuck…(Y/n)’s eyes widened… “He’s an F1 driver?” Her mind and mouth spoke at the same time as her brows scrunched and her fingers almost in a trance clicked on the profile by itself…it was the team’s page…the coffee machine dinged as it pulled her back to reality…she took her coffee and dragged herself back to her bed… Pushing the laptop screen open she typed out the name of the team on a web browser…the results flooded in as she read two names side by side… “Lando Norris…Oscar Piastri” Both were F1 drivers and she just so happened to almost get run over by one of them…(Y/n) shrugged as she closed the window…she tucked the laptop back into her backpack as she put it under her bed and pulled the covers on herself…skipping dinner was really normal about her… It just happened one time right? She just happened to be the person who almost got run over by an f1 driver…but would it?...would it really be just one time?

It was a sunday…nothing special…nothing weird…just a normal sunday…(Y/n) had just pulled up to her weekend job at 8am in the morning…She unlocked the shop and smiled as the smell of fresh flowers flooded her nostrils… Every weekend (Y/n) opened up the shop in the morning and the actual owner…her boss…a sweet 68 year old lady she had always called ‘kylie’ would come in late…(Y/n) cleaned up the shelves as she got everything sorted out and ready when suddenly the bell rang and someone stepped in…

(Y/n) had her back turned to the customer as she hummed cleaning the back desk…she let them pick out what they wanted to buy…and finally she heard the ring on the counter indicating that the customer was ready for her to wrap the flowers and help them buy it.. “Hey there! Good morning, what can I help you with…” Raina’s voice faded as her eyes met with the greenish blue orbs staring back at her… “And…we meet again?” Lando smirks as he hands her a handful of roses and daisies… ‘weird match but works’ (Y/n) thought as she bound the flowers and trimmed the stems… “yea…” Raina chuckled “Surprise…I work here..” She huffed out as looked back at him.. “Okay brown paper or a basic cover or a vase? And like do you want a film over it or just for me to bind it up for you?” (Y/n) mumbled out the now very natural question to which Lando quietly replied “Brown…and no film just bind it up..” He gave her a lopsided smile…which (Y/n) gladly returned… A few minutes later (Y/n) was done binding them up..she billed out everything before looking up at him… “Cash or Card?” another trained question leaving her mouth but with a genuine smile ghosting her lips… “Cash..” Lando smiled as she told him the amount to which he handed her that…while the receipt printed out a mentally phrased question made it out of her mouth without even realizing… “Roses and daisies are a weird combination to give to your girlfriend”...Lando chuckled as she said that and her eyes widened… “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to…” “don't worry…it didn't offend me…they are for my sister…it's more of an inner meaning kind of thing…it's going to take a lot of time if i'm going to explain it right now…” The sound of the machine whirling beeped as the receipt was finally printed …she tore it off and handed him the receipt… Lando stood there for a second his eyes roaming over the receipt as he gave a nod before starting to walk off…but just as he was about to…he turned around and smiled “looks like someone did their homework…I never told you my name headphone girl” Realization dawned over (Y/n) as she checked the system…she had typed his name like it was a natural habit onto the receipt without even realizing… “See you around!” Three last words she had heard as the bell dings indicating that lando was now gone…and for some stupid reason..she smiled at the roses and daisies the entire day

As time passed..whenever Lando was in town he would just come by and sit for hours with her as she worked her shift on the weekends…Once he had asked her what her favorite flowers were…to which (Y/n) had replied lavenders without a second thought…she loved them…As time passed (Y/n) found herself wrapping a few lavenders for lando almost twice or thrice each week…

“I think I'm starting to like lavenders a bit too…” He would say any time she confronted him about it…Sometimes he would come to buy a bouquet and bring coffee and end up staying there till she would close up…

And just like that Lando Norris became a regular in the shop almost each weekend when he was in town…A few months into Lando being regular..kylie decided to meet the ‘Regular guy who gives me business’ and she loved him…absolutely adored him…maybe even more than she adored (Y/n)...

(Y/n)’s last week of uni was lingering as finals drained her mentally…She had talked to Kylie about being a regular full time for the shop to which Kylie had happily agreed and raised her pay a bit…As she handed in her last exam of her life…she sighed softly closing her pen and holding her head…she was independent..fully independent now…

She had now achieved what she wanted to be since she was 11…to be secure...to be independent…Ever since Lando had entered her life..the monotone feeling had disappeared…she had someone she could rely on genuinely…a close comforting bond built over a concerning amount of cups of coffee and hours of just pure talking about anything and everything in their lives…Lando had managed to get (Y/n) involved in F1 as well…she found herself at 4am waking up to watch the races…in a way it was just her way of showing Lando gratitude for pulling her out of the ditch an year ago…and in another way she had grown a soft spot for the sport…in a way it was comforting even if she was yelling at her screen about the shit strategies ferrari had and how horribly they treated their driver…

“No matter how much I like them…I’d question my existence too if I was Charles…” (Y/n) would say to Lando any time he asked her about why she had a soft spot for the Ferrari team…He had healed her and she would write him a hundred thankyou letters to him…

(Y/n) makes her way out of uni as she takes the bus to the flower shop to see kylie and Lando already waiting for her near the counter…Raina went inside and hugged kylie as kylie handed her the keys to the shop because kylie would be taking a vacation for the next week…a really hard earned one…when kylie walked out (Y/n) turned to Lando and hugged him tightly…

“How was the exam?” Lando smiled softly at her as his arms found her waist wrapping around them tightly returning the hug… “I made it…guess uni is finally over…” The pair decided to sit down behind the counter waiting for any new customers…a few came in and left with their bouquets and just like that…it was closing time…(Y/n) and Lando quickly shut the door off and went to the back rooms so that (Y/n) could pack up.. Lando leans against the shelves, watching her like he always does — quiet, patient, present. The sound of the door clicking shut echoes faintly through the empty shop. Outside, the sky’s already dimming, soft orange hues brushing the windows. (Y/n) pulls her hoodie over her head and finishes tying up her hair. “So… that’s it? You’re officially done?” The words leave Lando's mouth in the softest and most soothing way as the question hangs in the atmosphere as (Y/n) continues packing her bag…she exhales like she has been holding everything in for days…her head bobbs softly as she nods… “Yeah. No more exams. No more weird group projects. No more 3 a.m. breakdowns over citation formats.” A grin spreads across Lando’s face…“I don’t know, I kind of liked those 3 a.m. rants. They were very… expressive.” He fixes his posture as he puts his back on the wall and (Y/n) faces him resting on the shelves…“You liked watching me spiral?” She smirked “Only a little.” The words left Lando’s mouth as they both cracked up a smile which developed into laughter which quickly resided into a comforting silence… “I thought I’d feel more… I don’t know, proud? Relieved? But it’s weird. It’s like everything just got quiet all of a sudden.” (Y/n) shrugs as she looks outside of the window… “It's like…everything just came to a halt and now I'm just…hanging..”

“Sometimes it takes a minute to catch up to the feeling.” Lando looked down into her eyes as they exchanged a soft understanding smile with each other…(Y/n) knew…(Y/n) knew that Lando wasn't saying much, but he didn’t need to. That’s always been something about him — he listens like it matters.

“I spent so long just trying to get through it all. Like, finish the degree, pay rent, keep everything together. And now that I actually have time to breathe… I don’t really know what to do with it.” Lando shifted his weight, then stepped closer, not too close, just enough…

“Maybe you don’t have to figure it out right away.” A smile ghosted (Y/n)’s face as she smiled up at him…“I’m not great at sitting still.” She muttered out hoping he wouldn't hear her but he did…He always heard her… “You don’t have to sit still. Just… don’t rush past this part, either. You’ve earned some space to not know.” As he said that Lando looked at her with the amount of reassurance that confirmed her that even if it was 4am in the morning and she needed help…Lando would just be a single call away…another soft and comforting silence fell until (Y/n) decided to break it… “Thanks for showing up today. I didn’t even ask.” She looked up at him…a soft gloss on her eyes…“You never have to.” Lando replied, staring into her eyes with the most soft smile he had ever given anyone…

The sound of the door clicking shut echoes faintly through the empty shop. Outside, the sky’s already dimming, soft orange hues brushing the windows. (Y/n) pulls her hoodie over her head and finishes tying up her hair.

“I like being here. With you.” Lando said looking at the sunset…(Y/n) smiled softly as she slinged her bag on her shoulders…“I like you being here too..” They hold the silence for a moment — not awkward, not unsure. Just comforting and still…

“Come on. Let’s get you something to eat. Real food. No more skipping dinner.” (Y/n) groaned as she finally chuckled before saying “Alright, alright. But only if I get to pick.” “I’ve already accepted defeat.” Lando says as he puts his arms up in a surrendering motion and raina chuckles softly They grabbed their things and walked toward Lando’s car, shoulders brushing as they moved side by side. Outside, the street lights are just flickering on. And for once, everything doesn’t feel late — it just feels right.

The hum of the engine fills the quiet air as the car idles in line. (Y/n)'s window is rolled halfway down, her elbow resting casually on the door. The car smells faintly like her vanilla body spray and Lando’s cologne — a strange but comfortable mix… “You really went for nuggets and fries?” Lando smiles as she looks at her by the side of his eye and focuses back on the road…(Y/n) smiled and turned to him “Do you wanna fight me right now or after I eat?”

Lando chuckles as he parks in the parking lot in front of (Y/n)’s apartment…“Just saying… you’ve got commitment.” (Y/n) smiles as she softly replies back “Exactly. Learn from me.” They both laugh. The kind that escapes easily, no effort, just comfort. (Y/n) quickly opens the bag of food. She passes Lando his drink and then proceeds to pop open the paper bag, and steals a fry before handing him the rest.

“Hey—” Lando chuckles as he speaks up but he is cut off by her voice “Tax.” (Y/n) smiled softly before a silence fell in the car as the duo began to eat in silence until Lando breaked it.. He holds the cup to his mouth as he sucks on the straw and gulps down the drink before looking at her “Do you ever feel like the thing you love the most stops feeling like… yours?” (Y/n) takes her drink and stops mid-sip.. “Where’s that coming from?” It’s almost like Lando can't meet her eyes...He shrugs a bit as he looks out of the window… “Lately racing’s felt… heavy. Not hard, not exhausting — just… like I’m chasing something that’s not even mine anymore. I used to love it for the speed, the instinct, the feeling of just being there. Now it’s—” Lando sighs as he waves his hand almost like he’s trying to find the words…“it’s…it’s like every lap is a test. Like I’m trying to prove something to people who’ve already decided what I’m worth.”

(Y/n) looks at him as she sighs “Is that what you think? That they’ve already made up their minds?” Lando doesn't answer…he just didn't have the courage to for some reason…(Y/n)’s gaze stays fixed on his as she slowly leans back in the passenger seat…

“You know what I see? I see a guy who lights up when he talks about how the tires felt during lap 16. Who gets mad not because he failed, but because he knows what he’s capable of. I’ve watched you love this sport like it’s a part of your skin.” Lando turns his head…his eyes meeting with hers as she continues…

“You’re allowed to be tired. You’re allowed to feel the pressure. But none of that changes why you started. Or how much you matter — not to a team, not to some sponsor, but to the people who actually see you.” Her voice softens…“One bad weekend doesn’t rewrite everything you’ve done. It doesn’t take away who you are. And it sure as hell doesn’t mean you’ve got anything left to prove.”

That’s when Lando sighs and for a second his walls slip…(Y/n) sees the boy beneath the driver…in front of her…After all…Lando was also a human who needed to be reassured of his capabilities sometimes…

“Do you really think that?” “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

A few seconds pass. Then he reaches over, takes one of her nuggets, and eats it wordlessly. (Y/n) gasps as she looks at him faking an offended expression “Excuse me—” Lando grinned as he let the word fall from his lips in the most carefree and free way “Tax…”

(Y/n) laughed as she shoves him lightly. Lando leans his head back on the seat and lets out a breath that sounds a little more like relief this time rather than a weight inside him begging to be relieved

“Thanks. For being the one place I don’t have to be the guy who wears McLaren's racing suits...” Lando says looking at her while (Y/n) smiles softly “You’re welcome. For always.”

3 days later it's raining as Lando barges into the shop…almost practically wet…He shoots a grin at (Y/n) who was cleaning the counter when she looked at the bouquet she was making and sighed “Hey, we’re open, but if you’re dripping, I’m legally allowed to throw a towel at you.”

Rain taps gently on the windows, the sound muffled but steady. The shop smells like soil, eucalyptus, and the faint vanilla candle (Y/n) lit earlier. The doorbell jingles softly. Lando’s voice rings across the room…“Harsh welcome.” (Y/n) smiled as she peered over the counter…Her face lightened up when she saw him…

Lando was drenched…his curls stuck to his forehead indicating he had gotten slightly wet as he had closed the umbrella before walking in…which also answered why his hoodie was half wet… “Oh look what the rain dragged in…you know you’re gonna be down with fever after this right Lan?” Everyone called him that but from her mouth…god it felt like it was call from heaven to him…

“You got a mop or do I just stand here and ruin your floor?” (Y/n) smiled as she shook her head as Lando shrugged…she disappeared into the backroom and threw a small hand towel at him…“Thanks.” He ruffles his hair a bit and sets the soaked hoodie on a hook near the door. He was wearing a plain black shirt underneath which had been saved from being dampened by the thick hoodie… “You want something warm? I’ve got hot chocolate in the back. Not from a machine, thank you very much.” (Y/n) smiled as she looked at him “I made it in the morning…” Lando smiled as he stood in front of the counter as she let him in…“Yeah… yeah, that sounds good.” He smiled at her as he looked her up and down…Had she always looked like she was the moon…she almost looked like she had a soft glow around her…he shook his head as she let him in and they both went to the backroom… A small lamp cast a gentle yellow glow. The rain sounds louder back here, like a low lullaby. (Y/n) set down two mugs of hot chocolate on the old wooden table as she pulled a chair and sat across Lando… “One has a little cinnamon in it. Try not to die guessing which.” She smiles as she pushes one of the cups towards him…“Living dangerously today, huh?” Lando smirked at her as she smiled tilting her head “That’s just me being me…” A soft laughter erupted in the room which died down soon after as Lando cleared his throat…He turned the cup slowly in his hand before finally letting the statement fall from his lips… “So… I’ve gotta tell you something.” (Y/n) sat up, setting her cup down and looking at him…“Okay. Should I be worried?” (Y/n)’s voice was almost a whisper…she was thinking about the worst possibilities… Had she said something stupid which hurt him?

Did she mess up something?

What had she done…?

Oh lord…

“No. Just—don’t hate me.” Lando looked at her…

“Lando.” Panic spread across her face as Lando noticed and shook his head as he finally sighed and looked at the counter that could be seen from the door…“Season’s starting. First race is this weekend. Then it’s back-to-back for months. I’m flying out tomorrow morning.” Some relief sets back into (Y/n)…she knew this would come her way…she just didn't know this quickly…

“How long?” (Y/n) let the question fall off her lips like she had rehearsed it mentally a hundred times just to soothe the hollowness she would feel while he would be gone…“Five months. Give or take.” Lando said as he looked into her eyes..that was the time they made a quiet and mutual agreement… “And then?” (Y/n) said looking at him as she tried to shift in her seat…somehow it was starting to hurt her entire body in just two seconds…“Then I’ll be back….Silverstone.”...“Right.” (Y/n) nodded as she took another sip before setting it on the table… “I didn’t want to just vanish on you…you matter to me…and I felt like you should know…” Lando looked at her hoping she wouldn’t look at him differently…“I’m glad you did.” (Y/n) smiled…she had sorted out the mental turmoil and she took another sip and looked at him before speaking.. “Five months is a long time. But not forever.” (Y/n) looked at Lando looking for any sense of reassurance in his eyes…“Exactly. And I’ll call. Text. Send you blurry photos of my hotel breakfasts.” (Y/n) chuckled as she looked at him…That innocent ‘I trust you’ smile Lando loved more than anything…“Please do. I want full reviews. I’m holding you to it.”....“Deal.” Lando smiles as (Y/n) takes their empty mugs and washes them in the sink… A comfortable silence falls again, a deeper kind of quiet wrapping around them. The kind that holds what words can’t.

“Promise me something?” (Y/n) says as she turns around to face him…“Don’t spend the whole season trying to prove yourself. Just… love it. Like you used to.”

Lando looks at her…his face softening as his vulnerable side flushes out…“You’re the only one who says that, you know?”...(Y/n) sighs and looks into his eyes ....“Then I’ll keep saying it. Every time.” She walks closer and places her hand over his…He turns his palm up and gently holds her fingers. “God, I’m gonna miss this.” Lando looked down… “I’ll miss annoying you on your shifts…” (Y/n) smiled as Lando looked up at her while he said the last part… “I’ll be right here when you come back. Hot chocolate and all.” (Y/n) smiled as she looked at him and hugged him to which he answered immediately, his arms finding her waist and wrapping around it as she played with his hair. The rain outside made it so much more comfortable…They both knew…At the end of the day they would have each other…to turn to..

(Y/n) is sat cross-legged on her bed, hair up in a messy bun, hoodie too big for her. Her laptop screen glowed. Behind her, a shelf of books, a candle flickering low, and a soft throw blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her phone buzzed, and she answered the video call. Lando’s face appears — hoodie on, lying on his hotel bed in Melbourne… “There she is.” Lando’s voice soothed her ears as a smile spread across her cheeks… (Y/n) raised her brow as she spoke…voice hoarse due to not talking for hours at a stretch “Shouldn’t you be asleep? You’ve got FP1 in, like, six hours.”

(Y/n) fixed the blanket and snuggled and rested her head on the cushion that supported her…“Can’t. Too much adrenaline, or nerves. Or maybe I just missed hearing your voice.” Lando said as he looked at her and smiled softly…genuinely… “Smooth.” (Y/n) chuckled while her eyes were closed…“I’m trying, alright? Give a man points.” Lando said, pretending to be offended…“You get one. Maybe.” (Y/n) said as she opened her eyes and smiled..readjusting herself…that's when he saw the hoodie he had left behind at the shop on her tiny frame…A small smile spread across lando’s face but he decided not to confront it…He also saw something else…a book with a girl standing and a guy in a racing suit standing on the cover page of the book…the spine of the book had tiny checkered flags on it… “Wait. Wait, go back.” He said to (Y/n) who grew confused and looked at him a bit weirdly… “Go back where?” she asked confusion lacing her voice…Lando leaned a bit into the camera before he let his lips speak the words that his brain framed…

“On your bed. What is that? That red and white book.” (Y/n) glances over her shoulder, then immediately turns back, her face blank. “Nope. Not important.” She says as she tries to change the topic…“Oh, it's very important now.” (Y/n) sighed, throwing her head back dramatically as she accepted defeat..“Fine. It’s called ‘To The Finish Line’.” (Y/n) grumbled out as she pulled the strings of the hood to hide her face…

“Sounds suspiciously F1-related.” Lando said out loud…“Maybe.” “Romance?” (Y/n) averted her gaze as she sighed and put the candle off “Would it kill you to believe I’m well-rounded?” “Not at all. But it is incredibly hard to imagine you reading a book where the lead guy probably says something like ‘my heart races faster than my car’.” (Y/n) bursts out laughing as Lando completes the sentence…her smiling…it pult a smile on his face by default as if it was just what his duty was…to make her smile…

“Okay that was exactly the vibe, but listen—it’s not that cheesy. It’s about this driver who kind of loses himself in the pressure and this girl who helps him remember why he started in the first place.” Lando’s mind spirals as he hears her say that…

Wait, isn't that like us? He wanted to say…but just an “Oh” came out of his mouth…(Y/n)’s voice softened as she looked at the book holding it in her hands “Yeah. So… maybe I got attached. Sue me.”...

Lando quietly eyed her as he muttered…“You always pick the things that matter to you. Even if they look small.” There was a silent pause as he laid on his back…phone angled to face the ceiling…“You think you can talk me to sleep?” His heavy voice mumbles out… “Only if you promise not to drool mid-call.” (Y/n) smiles softly…and starts humming softly as she starts knitting…something about it was so calming…Lando couldn't place his finger on it…Was it her humming or the fact that she would stay on call with him till he fell asleep…it was just safe and he felt…accepted…

Sleep nearly dawns on him…as she sleepy groans out some words to her… “It's not fair you know? You are all over there literally across the world…and I'd still win the damn race just to see you smile…” (Y/n) smiled softly looking at him… “Lan sleep…you need it…” Lando rubbed his face as he finally spoke up… “Text me after FP1…okay?” “Always…” and the line went dead as Lando's black screen stared at him…something struck him…before sleep could dawn on him…he opened google and typed in the book’s name carefully…

To The Finish Line – Paperback

He presses 'Order'. Just to know, he tells himself. Just to see what she sees.

The sky outside was still dark, just starting to blue. (Y/n) sat curled up on the couch with her blanket wrapping her body as the post-FP2 recap played on the TV. Her phone buzzed in her lap. She blinks at the screen.

It’s Lando. Video call.

She answers, voice raspy with exhaustion and a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Well look who finally remembered his biggest fan.” She covered her face as she yawned before smiling at him..“You’re awake?” Lando smiled at her as he unlocked the door of his hotel room…He put the card in the holder as he set his phone on the stand… “I never slept, genius. Stayed up to watch both sessions. You crushed it.” (Y/n) smiled…It was genuine…her voice had pride in it and Lando could perfectly sense it…A smile ghosted Lando's lips as she smiled at him while her eyes were already dropping from the lack of sleep in her system… “Did I now?” Lando said as he fiddled with the hem of his hoodie…there was a soft insecure feeling in his voice…after all he had faltered his position in FP2…finishing in p2 after he had just gotten p1 in FP1…he felt less somehow…and he couldn't place a finger on exactly where he felt the pain…It felt like it was divided in the heart and brain… (Y/n) sensed the uncomfortable silence as Lando zoned out…she cleared her throat before letting the words fall off her lips “You did. P1 and P2? Not too bad for someone who couldn’t sleep last night.” Lando let a sarcastic laugh fall off his lips… “but I still faltered…didn’t I?” (Y/n)’s eyes softened even more if that was possible…she smiled softly at him… “Lando it's free practice…you did really good…if you don't want to hear it from yourself…hear it from me at least…you did really good..” Lando’s mind grew quieter as she said that…a sense of comfort dawning on him filling him with reassurance…“Seriously though” a soft sigh left his lips “… thank you. For staying up. For watching. It means more than I can say.” (Y/n) smiled as she nodded…“I don’t miss the things that matter.” His eyes suddenly lock on her as she closes her eyes and tries not to fall asleep…he just sits there…He watches her — hair messy, eyes tired, hoodie hanging off her shoulder. A version of her he’s never seen in person, but it makes his chest feel oddly warm. A chuckle leaves his throat…“You’re gonna pass out, huh?” “Probably in the next 5 minutes. But you had to know I was proud of you before that happened.” (Y/n) smiled as she completed the sentence… “and…Lan just know that I always will be…proud…of you…”

“Go hydrate. Stretch. Eat carbs. Whatever it is you drivers do after a good day.” (Y/n) chuckled out as she sank into her pillows…Lando eyed her face and smiled as he rested his head on his hand…“I’ll do all of that. After I look at you for another ten seconds.” “Flirt.” (Y/n) said, chuckling as she looked away, a faint blush on her cheeks… “Sleepy flirt. Big difference.” Lando smiled as he said that and exhaled deeply “Go to sleep Headphone girl…you need it..” (Y/n) rolled her eyes affectionately… “I don't use my headphones that much…” Lando chuckled as she shook his head “I almost ran over you that day…” “Point.” “yea..” (Y/n) smiled softly as she sighed… “Fine…goodnight lan I’m gonna go get some sleep now…” Lando smiled as the line went dead and a black screen stared back at him…he sighed softly as he looked to his side…the paperback book lying on his desk… It's time to see what she sees in this…

Lando sat by the window, legs pulled up to the chair. The book lay open on his lap. A highlighter uncapped next to it. He’s re..read a passage for the third time, brows slightly furrowed. “He didn’t know when it started — the fear that he wasn’t enough anymore. But she never treated him like he had to prove anything. And that’s when he started breathing again.”Lando closed the book slowly, fingers resting on the page. He looked toward his phone on the table, her name still on top from last night’s call. He’s torn…torn between his brain and heart…his brain kept muttering at him to forget it and just go to sleep while his heart practically begs the brian for permission to let him move his hands and grab the phone and text her…

His brain gives up…hands rush to the phone before he types in a text…

LAN: Thankyou for accepting me just how I am…Being around you..it..it makes me feel like I…like I can just breathe…without having to worry about anything.

No no no no no what am I thinking… His finger hovers over the backspace key before he taps it vigorously and again a blank text bar lay staring up at him from his phone…

LAN: you’re kind of unfairly good at making my head quieter.

He deletes that too… Eventually, he sets the phone down without sending anything. Just sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before muttering… “Jesus. I’m so far gone.”

The garage was waking up — crew members moving with precision, equipment being calibrated, the low hum of focus in the air. But Lando's world was quieter. Slower.

He stood by the back wall, race suit hanging from his waist, gloves in hand. A bottle of water forgotten by his side. His eyes were on the floor — not the car…His brain was screaming at him right now…He felt numb…just numb… “Yesterday was good. P1 and P2. I should be happy.”

He says to himself as he rolls his shoulder, stretching out tension that’s been sitting there since sunrise. “So why does it feel like if I’m not better today, it all counts for nothing?”One of the engineers waves a note at him — some tweak on balance, maybe tire pressures. He nods but barely hears it..He knows what the data says. He knows what the lap times were. But logic rarely speaks louder than the voice inside him that was eating him alive…

“What if it slips? What if that wasn’t real? What if yesterday was the peak and now it’s the drop?”

He picked up his helmet and ran a thumb over the top. The design felt familiar. Grounding. He closed his eyes for a second longer than he needed to.

The garage was still busy. Still loud. But the noise doesn’t touch him.

“It’s just free practice. But why does it feel like a test I already failed?”

He hears a buzz from his phone kept beside him…he lets his hand find their way to the phone and turns on the screen as a text notification stares at him..

(N/n): Watching. Go drive like you mean it.

His mouth lifts slightly. Just barely. But it’s enough to remind him he’s not doing this alone.

Helmet on. Visor down. He walks toward the car, heartbeat in his throat — not from fear, but from the weight of expectation he hasn’t figured out how to let go.

The alarm rang as 2:30 AM displayed on (Y/n)’s phone as she pushed the blanket off of herself…she groggily made her way to the living room as she turned the tv on and sat down…(Y/n) puts it on multiviewer as she looks at the camera that is pointed at lando as she looks at him…a soft smile forming but soon disappearing after she ready his body language… She looked at him standing in the garage, head down, hand braced on the edge of the car like he’s holding something invisible back… “He’s quiet. Too quiet. Not in that usual pre-session way either.”

She thought mentally…She leaned closer to the screen like proximity could help her read his thoughts better. The commentator's voice drones on about tire choices and balance tweaks, but she wasn’t listening. She watched the way Lando hesitated just before getting in the car. The way his jaw locked for a second too long…

“He’s spiraling a little, isn’t he?” she mutters to herself as she picks at the hem of her shirt…The camera switches angles — now he’s got the helmet on, but that didn’t fool her. His posture was too still. Not focused — frozen. And she knew exactly what that meant

“God, I wish I could just be there. Shake him a little. Tell him to breathe. Tell him yesterday didn’t vanish just because today feels heavier.”

Her hand finds her phone before her brain finishes the thought. She types faster than she realizes.

(N/n): Watching. Go drive like you mean it.

She sent it before she could second-guess. Then set the phone down, still staring at the screen as the session begins.

And when his car finally rolled out of the garage — smooth, clean, no hesitation — she exhaled, the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

Her lips curve into a tiny smile. A hopeful one…one she wished he could see…just to feel reassured if that was possible… “There he is.” She mutters as seriousness dawns on her while she watches the grid driving…praying his mind didn’t play tricks on him…

Lando sat on a bench, still in his race suit, as he tried to avoid his phone which was set down beside him. His helmet was still on him, visor open, reflecting the quiet frustration in his eyes. His phone buzzed. He doesn't even look at the name before swiping to answer the call…

“Didn’t even get a ‘hello’? What if I was someone else?” (Y/n)’s voice rang across the phone as she held it under her ear while she snuggled up to the couch

“Then I guess someone else would’ve had to tell me P10 isn’t the end of the world.” Lando mumbled almost like he was saying that to himself mentally…A deep sigh was heard on the other side of the call…“So that’s what this call is.” “That obvious?” “Crystal clear. Lando, it’s free practice. you were trying things. You know this.” “Yeah, but—” “No. No ‘but.’ Listen to me. You are going to go out there, put that helmet on, and crush quali. Because you always come alive when it counts.”

A silence fell on the call as Lando’s breath normalized again…(Y/n)’s voice continued as her tone turned softer…“And even if something goes wrong… you’re still you. You’re not measured by a single lap.”

Lando leaned back, letting his back hit the wall as his head tipped towards the ceiling…“Why do you always know exactly what to say?” he murmured as she smiled softly before replying…“Because I pay attention.”

“Will you watch it live?” Lando said as he looked back down and chewed his lip…“Already called off of work… Kilye didn’t bat an eye when I said it was about you… You’re stuck with me.” A smile finally laced Lando’s lips…“Good. I drive better when I know you’re there.” “Then go give me something worth yelling about.”

“Copy that.”

He ended the call, and in the sudden quiet of the driver room, he exhaled. The weight on his shoulders felt lighter now…

The TV glowed in the dark room, casting soft light across the cluttered coffee table — empty mugs, half-eaten snacks... She was curled up on the couch, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, phone clutched tightly… “Through this time the home favorite looking to bring the crowd to their feet there's never been an Australian driver on pole position for the Australian Grand Prix can he change all of that” The commentator yells out as the screen shows Oscar's lap…(Y/n)’s hand subconsciously grips the phone in her hand harder… “he can! With a monster final sector…” the speakers of her TV let the voice echo as (Y/n) chews her lip… “Over to you Lando Norris…Over to you Max Verstappen and George Russell…”

He still has time…(Y/n) thinks as she leans closer to the screen… “Can Norris take it away?!?” (Y/n)’s hands clasp around her phone even harder…that was going to leave a mark… Her breath almost stops as she finally hears the words she most desperately wanted to hear… “He Does..!” A wide grin spreads across (Y/n)’s face..

“YES! THAT’S MY BOY! That’s what I told you, didn’t I?!” She jumps off the couch, nearly tripping over her blanket.

“Oh my god, he did it. He actually—” His name tops the board as she smiled softly...

A few minutes later the recap starts to show when her phone buzzes — FaceTime. She dives for it…

Lando’s still in his suit, flushed from adrenaline, hair damp under the cap, but grinning wider than he has in weeks.

“pole?! Are you kidding me right now?!” (Y/n) smiled as she let out the breath she had been holding for so long…“I told you I drive better when you’re watching.” Lando laughs almost breathlessly until he sits down…

“I need, like, five minutes to calm down. I think I scared my neighbors.” (Y/n) laughed as she let the words out…“I’m serious, (Y/n). I heard your voice the whole damn lap.” Lando says a soft smile on both their faces as (Y/n) reassures him “you earned it…I’m so proud of you..” “I think that’s the only thing I needed to hear.” Lando smiles as silence takes over…not an uncomfortable one…a silence where no one spoke but their worlds were in a perfect sync…

“Go celebrate. I’ll be here… text me when you're free okay?” (Y/n) let it out before she smiled and let the line die…

The days bleed into each other as (Y/n) finds herself hyping Lando up every single race weekend…They don't even realize when Australia bleeds into China and when China bleeds into japan….

Shanghai was nearly perfect…Lando was sharp, focused, and clean. He brings it home P2. On the podium, as the champagne mists the air…as soon as he got down he checked his phone. One message sits at the top:

(N/n): I screamed. Again. My neighbors think I’m unwell. P2, baby! Let’s GO.

He smiles. The kind that slips out even when he’s trying to stay cool for the cameras…

Suzuka was a bit wet…Overnight rain was making it harder but…Lando finished Q3 with a flying lap but still ended behind max — P2 in the race again... As he sips water in the driver’s room, helmet still half-off, his phone rings. (Y/n)’s voice is faintly crackly, half-teasing.

“You’re getting faster by the week. It’s honestly annoying.” (Y/n) chuckled, faking her annoyance as Lando smiled “You know you love it”

“I do.” (Y/n)’s voice rings before they cut the call so Lando could get to the podium…

Japan soon bled into Bahrain as Lando picked up his phone opening her texts…

Lan: Feeling a bit off.

(N/n): It’s okay to feel off. Just don’t let it decide the race.

Lan: Can I call you?

(Y/n)’s phone rings as she takes it and puts it to her ears…“Lan you Know that you don't have to be perfect all the time right?” She lets the words fall out of her mouth softly as she says it in the most genuine way possible…“Just don’t want to disappoint.” “Impossible. You could finish 18th and I’d still think you’re the best driver out there.” “…You don’t make it easy to stay nervous.”

(Y/n) smiled as the line went dead indicating that he had to get ready for the race…

It was another solid finish. P3. Lando tapped his heart just before the podium — a small, private motion. No one asks, but it meant something. Later that night, Lando sat in front of his screen..(Y/n) on the other side as she planned out the flower arrangement for Kylie's birthday bouquet…

“That one was for you.” Lando let his mouth speak the words as she looked at him with a smile growing on her lips…“Lan…” “I’m not where I want to be yet. But I’m getting there. Thanks for keeping me grounded.” “Anytime. Keep chasing.”

And just like that, The Saudi Arabia race weekend was just around the corner…

(Y/n)’s phone rang across her table as she looked at the caller Id…Lando…a smile laced her lips as she slowly took her phone in her hands…accepting the call… “Hey…” she let the greeting fall off her lips…it had become a routine now… “Hey…” Lando returned but something was lacking…it was different…worry painted raina’s face as she spoke.. “You okay?” “Nervous. The car doesn’t feel right.” (Y/n) let out a soft sigh as she smiled… “Just drive it like it’s stolen and I’m waiting at the finish line with food.” Lando chuckled as he looked at his car from afar.. “That was your motivational speech?” “Want the long version?” “always…”

Jeddah. The walls are close. Q3’s almost done when Lando pushes too much. There was an oversteer, and the car slams the barrier. Red flag. Silence in the commentary box. “Are you okay?” asks his race engineer on the team radio… “Yea im good…fucking idiot”

Later that night Lando resorted to calling (Y/n) without a second thought…he needed her…god it wasn't a joke he seriously needed her…

The door clicks open. He tossed the lanyard on the table, kicked off his shoes. He barely sat down before he grabbed his phone and called her…

As soon as the line connected…there wasn’t any ‘hello’ (Y/n) went straight to the point… “Hey. Stop.” “Stop what?” Lando groaned as he sank to the bed…“Calling yourself an idiot like it’s your full-time job.” Lando sighed as he picked on the sheet of the bed…He exhaled. Silent for a moment. He was not crying, but he was close to breaking in the way tired people do…

“I let the team down. I let you down…” (Y/n) looked at him…as she sighed “You made a mistake. You're allowed. You don’t have to carry the whole damn team by yourself. Lan you are human…and…and you could never let me down…we both know that…I’m so proud you pulled upto Q3…” He stared at the screen. Then nodded. Quietly… “Thanks…”

The next day He clawed back what he could. Smart, gritty drive. P4 in the end. Not a podium, but a message. After the race…

(N/n): You didn’t let anyone down.

Lan: Still kinda wish you were here.

(N/n): Me too.

Lan: Still I’mSorry.

(N/n): For what? You fought. That’s all that matters.

Lan: I just wanted to give you something to be proud of.

(N/n): You already do. You always do Lan…

Next on the race calendar was Miami… The sun hid behind the clouds. Lando's drive is smart, surgical — the fights for overtakes were entertaining but also a bit overwhelming…The camera catches him smiling into his helmet as he parks up.

(Y/n), back home, ice cream in hand, smiles at the TV feeling mental content…she had been working on controlling the emotions because at this point…her neighbours would get her turned in for yelling too much every weekend…She let her hands find her phone after the podium as she called him… “I’m best friends with a podium merchant.” “You’re best friends with a future world champ.” “I like your version better.”

The check-ins became slow, but not in a bad way. It was a rhythm now. Predictable in the way the best things were. Mid-week memes. Late night “what if” texts. Photos of his helmet. Snapshots of her lunch. Calls that faded into yawns and goodnights. A quiet, steady beat pulsing under everything — unspoken and obvious.

The city hums with warmth. (Y/n) steps out of her familiar corner bookstore, tote bag slung over her shoulder, thumb already flipping through a page. She looks up—and stops.

Lando’s leaning against the lamppost outside. Hoodie on, cap backwards, a small bakery bag in hand. The same crooked smile. The one that always made her feel like she was in on a secret.

She doesn’t think. Just walks straight into him. Her arms wrap around him so tightly, the tote bag slips off her shoulder. His hands find their way around her waist as they wrap around her tiny frame…“I figured this was the best place to find you.” (Y/n) pulled back a bit shocked…“Lan… What—what are you doing here? Race weekend is like 2 weeks apart…” She looked up at him, still a bit confused…“Told the team I needed some London air. They asked why. I said, ‘Got a bookstore girl I need to see.’”

A chuckle escaped (Y/n)’s lips as she looked up at him “You’re such an idiot.” “Missed you too….headphone girl…”

“Oh my god…you have dark circles..” Lando noticed… “Some idiot keeps making me stay up to watch him chase podiums at 3AM.” Lando laughs softly at that before speaking… “…Hope he’s worth it.” She looks up at him. He looks down at her. The summer hums louder around them. “Yeah. He really is…” It was a sleepy Thursday. Sunlight poured in through the old windows, dust dancing in the beams. The store smelled like coffee, old pages, and wildflowers. (Y/n) is tucked behind the counter, humming softly while sorting out receipts...and watering the bouquets

The bell above the door rings. She looked up, already smiling when she saw it’s him…she faked a tone of annoyance as she smiled…“Do you live here now?” A grin spread across Lando’s face “Would that be a problem?” “Only if you don’t spend 15 minutes after closing the shop to have coffee with me..” “You don’t have to ask...and I brought the cookies...”

She rolled her eyes…a smile on her face… but her hand was already reaching for the bag. They settle behind the counter, quietly sharing cookies like it’s their own little corner of the universe.

A few minutes later, Kylie walks in from the back, sees them both tucked in behind the desk, and stops. “Well, well. If it isn’t Mr. Fast and Curious.” The voice made Lando sit up straight a bit as he fixed his hair…nervousness taking over him…“Hi. Uh—Lando.” He reintroduced himself to kylie…

“Oh, I know. You’re the guy who’s always on (Y/n)’s phone.” She says as she hands him a cup of coffee…“On the house. And take a bouquet before you go. (Y/n) says the red gardenias remind her of you...” (Y/n)’s face turns a bright shade of red as she tried to stop Kylie from exposing what she had told her about a week ago..“Kylie—”“Shush. Let me be romantic on your behalf.” Kylie waved her hand in protest as she walked back inside to sort out the inventory duties for the next day…

She winks and disappears again, leaving them both flustered.

The store was quieter now. Lando was still there. Sitting on a stool behind the counter, flipping through a random poetry book. (Y/n) was beside him, arms crossed on the counter, eyes tired but honest. “You okay?” (Y/n) silently stares at the beams of sunlight before nodding… “Yeah. Just… sometimes being around you is so easy, it scares me.” He genuinely looks at her as she continues…

“Do you ever feel like you’re constantly earning your place in people’s lives? Like—if you’re not useful, funny, pretty, low-maintenance… they’ll leave?” (Y/n) said as she let her fingers wrap a spare piece of ribbon on them…

“…Yeah. I get that.” Lando looked at her as he shut the book and pushed it aside, turning to face her…

“My last relationship—he cheated on me. With my best friend. Told me I was too much. And not enough. Somehow both.” Lando doesn’t speak…he just couldn’t…How could someone not see her…the way he saw her…precious…lovable…his everything… Lando gently placed his hand near hers on the counter. Not touching, just near. Enough to say: ‘I’m here’

“Since then….I’ve just been trying to prove that I deserve to stay. In anyone’s life. Even yours.” A blanket of silence fell over then until Lando decided to remove it…“You don’t have to earn your place with me, (N/n). You already have it…”

The hotel room is still. A low amber glow spills from a lamp in the corner. Lando sits on the edge of the bed, hoodie sleeves bunched around his wrists, hair damp from a quick shower. His phone buzzes beside him — muted this time — but he doesn’t check it.

Instead, he reaches for something tucked deep in the lining of his suitcase. A book. The spine creased, the corners softened from travel. He bought it in Australia. Ordered it in the most impulsive way possible…

He continues reading as he reaches the middle of the book…the part.A race. The stakes are high. But it’s not the win that matters.

“He didn’t fight for the win because he needed glory. He fought because someone, somewhere, believed he could — and that made him want to be more than just fast. It made him want to be good.”

And suddenly it’s her — standing behind the counter, sleeves pulled over her palms, pretending to be annoyed when he rearranged the display alphabetically. Her voice when she told him about the ones who left. The look in her eyes when she said she always had to earn her space in someone’s world.

And yet she stood there anyway.

With him.

Not just for the wins. Not for the cameras. But in the quiet spaces in between.

He leans back against the pillows, book resting open across his chest, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if the room itself might give him an answer.

But he already knows it.

“She never asked for anything. Not once. And somehow… she still deserves everything.” There’s no plan yet. No grand gesture. But somewhere in the center of his chest, something starts to settle.

He doesn’t want to win for headlines. Or podiums. Or legacy.

He wants to win for the girl who stayed….

The next day…The shop was quiet, late golden sun bled through the windows. Raina was behind the counter, flipping through a new book she had bought when her phone buzzed…she let her hand find its way to her phone not looking away from the book…she finally looked at her phone and read the text notification

Lan: So… home race. Silverstone. I’ve got an extra pass. For my favourite book snob.

She smiled, biting back a laugh. She unlocked her phone and opened the text…as she quickly typed in a response…

(N/n): Lando, are you seriously trying to lure me with race fuel and overpriced chips?

Lan: Absolutely. I’m also offering front-row seats to me, losing my mind in quali.

(N/n): Tempting.

Lando: (N/n) Come. Please?

Her fingers hover over her keyboard as she finally gives in and accepts it with a smile….

Raina: Okay. I’ll be there….

The days pass by as (Y/n) counts her days to the grand prix…Lando would occasionally visit her in the shop…and they both had noticed how Kylie had been missing in action for the last 2 days…(Y/n) had enough as finally She speaks up…

“Hey lan? Could you drive me to Kylie’s? I’m kind of getting worried at this point…” Without a hesitation Lando drops her off at Kylie's…But while he was driving to his hotel…his heart drops as he sees the text notification on his phone…

(N/n): Kylie’s sick. Can’t come. I’m so sorry, Lan. Kill it for me anyway.

Lando sits on his hotel bed as he stared into the wall before laying down and falling asleep…he had a fp1 to worry about anyways…

Two days passed as (Y/n) got too busy taking care of Kylie…Lando was convinced at this point that she would not be attending…

“You should be with him…not me…” Kylie said as she let out a cough and looked up at (Y/n)…(Y/n) sat beside Kylie before sighing…“You need to be taken care of... Jesus, Ky, you’re burning up.”

Kylie gives her a look, groggy but pointed. “(Y/n)… seriously. Go. I’ll be fine.” Kylie tried to convince her…“Not a chance.” “(Y/n).”

She said it like she was summoning her. Like she was asking her to listen, for real.

“You’ve always done this thing, you know? Dropping everything for people. Even the ones who didn’t deserve it.”(Y/n) looked away. Outside the window as she refused to accept it…“But this? This is Lando. And he does.” (Y/n) sighed as she listened quietly…before mumbling…“It’s just a race.” Kylie looks at her firmly…“No, it’s not. Not to him. And definitely not when it’s you he wanted there.”

“I already texted him… Told him I couldn’t come.” Kylie groaned as she mumbled... “You idiot.” She took (Y/n)’s hand in hers as (Y/n) spoke…“I didn’t want to let you down.” Kylie softly looked at her as she spoke… “You never let me down. But (Y/n) — don’t you get it? That boy looks at you like… like you’re the win he never knew he was allowed to chase.”...Silence dawns upon (Y/n) as she blinks slowly. Kylie whispers as (Y/n) looks into her eyes…“Go. Before you start convincing yourself he doesn’t care. Because I promise you — he really, really does.”

It was buzzing. Crowds. Cameras. Fans. Mechanics. Lando stood near the garage, helmet in hand, in full race suit. His usual energy was off. A little flat. He checks his phone again. Nothing.

Until—

“You look like you’re about to fight someone.”

He spins. There she was…Lanyard around her neck, hoodie tucked into her jeans, windblown and out of breath. And smiling.

Lando’s breath catches. Then without even thinking, he pulls her in — arms around her, tight, grounded, like she’s the only thing real in this entire buzzing paddock.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” “Kylie changed my mind.” “God, I missed you.” “You saw me three days ago.” “Not like this.”

They stood there, forehead to shoulder, in the middle of the chaos, while the team let them be for just a moment.

She watched from the McLaren garage, hands clenched, heart in her throat. The energy was electric. Lando was in the lead. Lap after Lap, he’s flawless — focused, feral, faster than she’s ever seen him.

Lap 50 of 52. A Red Bull looms in his mirrors — relentless.

Then — the DRS zone.

The move comes clean and brutal. Lando defends. He tries. But the Red Bull slices through with three corners to go.

He finishes P2.

He got out of the car. Helmet off. Cameras flash. The crowd roared. His name was everywhere. But he barely lifted his eyes. He walked to her. Slowly. Like the world is a little heavier than it was before.

(Y/n) grinned up at him…“P2! Lan, that was—insane. Everyone’s freaking out!..He didn’t smile. Didn’t meet her eyes. (Y/n) sensed the change in his body language as her tone softened…“Hey. What’s wrong?”

He swallowed hard, as he replied in an almost frustrated tone…“I wanted to win that race.” (Y/n) flinched a bit due to his tone being unpredictable..“…Lando, you nearly did. That was—” He cut her off…his voice a bit louder and desperate… “No. I didn’t want to win it for the team. Or for the media. I wanted to win it for you.”

She stared at him as her heart caught in her chest. Lando’s voice broke softly as he tried to speak…

“You showed up. After everything. After I thought you wouldn’t. And I thought… I thought if I won, maybe you’d see what you mean to me. Like it would say it without me needing to say it. I don’t know.”

She stepped forward. Quietly. her eyes softened as she held his hand. “Lando…” He looks away, jaw clenched, ashamed. She pulled him in — arms around him. Tight. Reassuring. Unshakable. She softly spoke into his ear…“You don’t have to prove anything to me. Not now. Not ever.”He exhaled — like something inside him finally gave up the fight.

“You’re already everything I’d ever cheer for.”

They stay there, pressed together in the middle of the storm. Around them, the paddock whirled. But inside this hug, there was quiet. Steady. Real.

Because he didn’t win the race.

But maybe… for once… he didn’t have to…

The sun dipped behind the trees as Lando and (Y/n) pulled into Kylie’s quiet neighborhood. The Post race buzz faded into calm. The car still hummed softly beneath them as Lando glanced at her — her legs folded up in the passenger seat, hoodie sleeves pushed over her hands, the P2 cap now backwards on her head.

“Wearing that like you earned it.” “I carried you emotionally through half the season. I deserve it.”

He laughed, but there was something softer in the way he looked at her. She didn’t notice. Or pretended not to. Kylie opened the door…blanket slung over one shoulder and tea in hand.

“About time. You made him podium just to get out of bringing soup, didn’t you?” (Y/n) hugged her tight. Kylie groaned like it hurts — and it probably does — but she still pulled (Y/n)in harder. “Don’t get sappy, I’m just here to drop you your disgusting peppermint tea.” Kylie waved her off.“Actually, could you run to the corner shop? I forgot milk and you’re faster than the average dying woman.” Kylie said mischievously as she sat down on one of her chairs“Unbelievable.” (Y/n) mumbled knowing exactly what Kylie was planning… “Don’t scare him while I’m gone.” Kylie raises her eyebrows in mock innocence. (Y/n) disappears out the door.

Lando stands awkwardly nearby, unsure whether to sit or bolt. “Relax. I’m not gonna bite.” Kylie chuckles as she turns to him, motioning him to sit…Lando takes a seat opposite to her and lets a chuckle out before stopping and clearing his throat...

“So…What do you mean to her?”

Lando blinks, almost confused as he stares at Kylie for some sort of explanation to what she just said…“What?” He blurts out a confused expression painted over his face…

“(Y/n). You just ran a whole race like she was the finish line. You’re here. You’re always here. So I’m asking — what do you mean to her? And more importantly — what does she mean to you?”

He shifts, kylie had caught him off guard…awfully awkwardly…and exposingly..he sighed as he looked at her…“I don’t… I don’t think she knows.” Kylie shakes her head as she disagrees... “That’s not what I asked.”

He looks down at his hands. Then out the window. Then he just lets his heart accept it and speak over his brain….“She’s... she’s the first person who never saw me as just the guy in the car. She listens like I’m more than the stats or the wins. And when things go wrong, she doesn’t flinch. She just—stays.”

Kylie smiles as she drinks her tea and looks at him approvingly… “I'm happy that you finally decided to accept it instead of beating around the bush like you have been doing since the first day I saw you with her…” Lando chuckled as he looked away while Kylie continued…“She’s always had to earn her place. With friends. With that trashfire of an ex. She’s always afraid of being too much. Or not enough.”

Lando swallows. Hard.

“She doesn’t know how much she means to you. And that girl—she’s smart, but she’s oblivious. So if she means something to you, and I mean really means something—say it. Because she’s not going to see it unless you put it right in front of her face.��

He’s quiet. But his jaw’s tight. And behind the silence is something certain…“She means everything.” He blurts out before he even realizes it himself…his eyes widen as he realizes what he had just said as he lets it sink in…

She means everything… She means everything… She means everything…

Kylie studies him for a long moment. Then smiles — small, knowing, satisfied…“Good.” Kylie smiles…

The sound of the knob of the door is heard... (Y/n)’s back. Lando doesn’t move.

But something in him has…

The car hums softly as Lando drives through the quiet streets of London. The world outside is dim and washed in rainlight, but inside the car, there's an unspoken energy — a new rhythm between them, something that's been building.

(Y/n) stared out the window as she sighed…“You sure you’re okay?” She turned her head facing Lando who had his eyes on the road…“Yeah, just... one of those days.” A grin plastered (Y/n)’s face as she chuckled…“Kylie grilled you, didn’t she?” A small chuckle left Lando’s throat as he looked at her from the corner of his eye while still keeping his focus on the road…“Yeah, well... Kylie's pretty good at making me spill my guts. I didn’t even see it coming.”

“She just... wants to make sure you're good for me. You know?” (Y/n) said as she sighed… “Yeah. I get it.”

The quiet settles between them again, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s something... familiar. Different…It was as if even if no one spoke they would stay next to each other…just in the presence of each other…

Suddenly (Y/n) turned to face him…“You know, you don’t have to always prove yourself.”...Her words catch him off guard. He looks at her, surprised by the sudden honesty in her voice.

“Prove myself?” He asked…“Yeah. You’re always running after something... like you’re trying to show people you’re worthy. But you don’t need to do that. Not for me.”

Her words hit deeper than he expects. For a moment, he’s silent, processing what she’s saying. He’s always running. Always trying to be better, to do more. But with her? It feels different.

He quietly mutters to himself…“Maybe I want to prove something to myself. Not just the team, or anyone else.”

She’s quiet for a beat. Then, she glances at him, a little smile tugging at her lips. “I guess we’re both trying to figure that out, huh?” A smile ghosts Lando’s lips…“Yeah. Seems like it.”

Lando parked the car outside her building, the engine purring to a stop. They sat there for a moment, neither rushing to get out. The air between them felt charged. They shared a silence, but it was of the comfortable kind.

(Y/n) finally took a deep breath as she took off her seatbelt…“Thanks for the ride.”...Lando nodded, his hands lingering on the wheel for a moment longer than necessary. He didn’t want this to end. Not yet. “Anytime…Let me walk you…” He looked at her…his eyes showed sincerity…but also of wanting to stay with her…he felt anchored whenever he was with her…she was his everything…

They both got out of the car and walked towards the entrance of her building. As they reached the door, (Y/n) stopped, turning to face him. There was something different in her eyes now — something unspoken, a spark neither of them knew how to put into words.

He stood there for a second, his thoughts swirling. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to say it out loud — how much she meant to him. How everything had changed, how he was not sure he could keep pretending like it was all just a friendship. But he doesn’t. He can't. He caught his tongue at the last second.

(Y/n) pulled her bag over her shoulder as she smiled up at him softly… “Thanks for the ride…” She smiled softly and he saw her…she was looking up at him…like she was searching his face for something…maybe to get a hint of what he was thinking of…but it was there…in the way he stood…and the way he looked at her…He opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, he just smiled a little, his gaze softening… “You’ll be okay?” He asked…hoping she would ask him to spend more time with her…but they both knew that they should call it a day…(Y/n) smiled as she sighed softly…“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

She turned to head into her apartment, but as she reached for the door handle, she paused and looked back one last time. Lando’s standing in front of her, his back to the door, watching her.

The door clicked open. (Y/n) stepped inside, but before she fully closed it, she leaned against it for a moment. Her heart’s pounding — she was not sure why. She didn't know if it’s the way Lando’s eyes followed her or if it’s the conversation, the weight of it, that’s left her hanging in the air.

On the other side of the door, Lando leaned back against it too, eyes closed. His heart pounded in his chest. He was still standing there, thinking about how everything had shifted. How much she mattered to him. But he didn’t know how to say it yet. How to make it real.

And so, for the first time, they both sat with the unsaid. (Y/n) finally sighs as she makes her way to her room and calls it a night…

The next day…It was delivery day.

Buckets clattered onto the pavement, packed with sunflowers, peonies, and lilies. The air smelled like spring and sleep. Lando was there, hoodie clinging to his frame after a morning run, sleeves shoved up, eyes squinting in the sun…after he begged Kylie to let him help…(Y/n) fumbled with the keys, still groggy, she teased him as he nearly tripped over a rogue bucket…“You’re useless with your center of gravity messed up.” “And yet—somehow still more helpful than your cardboard arms.” (Y/n) chuckled as she rolled her eyes before finally getting the lock and opening the door of the shop letting them in…Then — mid-lift, breath shallow, words low and too easy — he said it…“I’d carry your entire life if you asked.”

Silence. (Y/n) turned around and looked at him as she let her hands rest on her waist…The world doesn’t stop, but it slows. Lando blinked like he didn’t mean to say it aloud. “…what?” (Y/n) questioned him as she looked at him…Lando cleared his throat as he looked away trying his hardest to convince her not to push at what he just said… “Nothing. Forget it.”

And indeed she doesn’t answer. Doesn’t push. But something had cracked open between them — not broken, just… unguarded. New…They lift the rest in silence. Side by side. The kind of silence that buzzes with everything left unsaid. From the side door, Kylie appeared… steaming coffee in one hand, sunglasses perched in her messy hair… She watched the two of them, their shoulders brushed as they moved inside, the atmosphere still humming.

She took a slow sip as she smiled to herself…“You know what? I’m taking the morning off.” She said as (Y/n) blinked at her confused… “Wait—what?”...“Shop’s in good hands.”

Kylie disappears down the sidewalk, chuckling to herself… Inside the shop, the air smelled like fresh lilies and unsaid feelings…Neither of them dared to speak about it — not yet…But both of them felt it. Something changed…

That day…(Y/n) closed the shop early…They both walked to a nearby corner bookstore and started walking through the aisles of the different genres… (Y/n) found a vintage copy of a poetry book that she had been hunting for…a soft cover, worn spine, her eyes lit up like the first time he saw her talk about flowers…She walked to the counter, book and card in hand...But Lando swooped in infront of her…“Lan…I’ve got it. Don’t even think about—” She tries to say as Lando cuts her off by tapping his card on the machine…“Too late.” A groan erupted from (Y/n)’s throat as she mumbled…“Lando—come on. I can buy my own books.”...“Yeah. But I wanted to.” She stared at him, part shocked and part scared of becoming a burden... and he just shrugs, like it’s not a big deal…

Later, outside the shop, she reaches into his jacket pocket to pull out a receipt — and a small, worn photo flutters out of his wallet…It’s of her.

Tied-up apron. Sleeves rolled. Head bowed slightly as she arranged a bouquet. Sunlight haloed her hair…(Y/n) picked it up, stunned…“You kept this?” her voice came out almost as a whisper…

A soft smile ghosted Lando’s face as he said…“It’s my lucky charm.”...Her voice catches..“Why that one?”...“Because you look like peace. And I need that.”

She didn’t respond. She just folded the photo back carefully and handed it to him like it’s something sacred…And that’s the moment she realized — It wasn’t just about the book. It has never been just about the book…

They both ended up walking to (Y/n)’s apartment…She unlocked the door and let them both in… “shit…I forgot all about the clothes…” she mumbled… “sit here…I’ll go fold them up first…” “No..I want to help…” Lando looks at her as he stands up… “Please…” He lets out as (Y/n) smiles, folding in and letting him follow her to her bedroom… It had started to rain…Big, soaking drops on the windows. The kind of storm that made the world feel smaller… “You ready to get absolutely smoked at folding?” Lando grinned at her…(Y/n) chuckled as she looked at him the same mischievous way… “Please. You don’t even match your own socks.” “Fashion is subjective.”

The competition was absurd, messy, and full of laughter. She barely won. By a second. Maybe less….He started folding one of her hoodies — and stopped…It was her favorite. Worn. Soft. It smelled like her eucalyptus shampoo, like her space. He held it a moment too long.

“You gonna cry over a hoodie, Norris?” (Y/n) teased him as she patted his back softly…He didn't answer. Instead he Just folded it with care, walked over to the shelf without asking, and tucked it in the exact right spot. Then folded the grey tassel blanket and draped it over the back of the couch. Right where it always goes…She watched him quietly…Because he knew where it all went…Because he knew her.

Later, the movie played in the background, rain still coming down — neither of them wanted to leave. The atmosphere was pretty cold as she brought out two blankets…offering one to him…he immediately denied…“Wanna just share?”...He didn’t wait for her to answer, just draped half of it over her. They sat, warm and quiet. A stupid rom-com played, forgotten…They don’t touch. Not really. Their backs were turned. Their hands, almost brushed…

(Y/n) fell asleep first…Hours later, he woke up and found her curled closer in her sleep, head nearly on his shoulder. His arm under her. Like it belonged there. He didn't move. He didn't have to. Because it felt like something that should never be interrupted…

The days almost bleed into each other as only three days are left…The countdown began... The British Grand Prix was long over. Lando's next one loomed over them indicating that he had to leave…and they would go back to (Y/n) pep talking to him every time on call before his practice sessions or quali or race day…

They don’t say it, but they both felt the weight of time. The weight of distance returning. The thought of going back to calls and text bubbles, instead of coffee and shared blankets.

And then Kylie called…

Lando showed up with a bag of groceries and a half-empty box of tea (Y/n) sweared by…Kylie was in sweats, hair in a messy bun. She let him in and nodded toward the couch…“She’s at the shop. I needed to talk to you alone.” She said before going and sitting cross-legged on the couch while Lando awkwardly paced in front of her, a nervous energy about him that didn't match his usual carefree charm… “Do you plan on wearing a hole in my rug, or are you gonna sit down?” Kylie said as she sipped on her cup of tea…

Lando sighed…flopping onto the edge of the couch, and ran a hand through his hair…“She’s just… she makes everything feel like it’s slowing down. Like the noise goes away.”

“You mean like peace?” Kylie said as she smiled gently…He nodded but couldn’t look up to meet her eyes yet…“Yeah. That.”

Kylie watched him as her voice softened…“You know, she thinks she’s easy to leave.” Lando looked up, startled by Kylie speaking suddenly…“She won’t say it out loud. But I see it. Every time you leave — she braces. Like she’s already preparing to be forgotten.”

He swallowed hard. That landed deeper than he expected…“I could never forget her.” Lando let it out like a whisper but Kylie heard it…“I know that. But does she?”

Silence.

“She thinks the people she loves always choose something else over her. Your next race. Her ex. Her old best friend. She’s wired herself to expect it.”

Lando clenched his jaw. The ache of her words settled in his chest.

“She matters, Lando. So much. But she’ll never say it. So if you feel something real, don’t leave her guessing.”

She paused and eyed him with a look that felt she was about to say something that would hit the deepest…

“You don’t have to win a race to prove it. You just have to show up. Now. While you still can.”

Lando leaned back, heart thudding and for the first time, he felt it — the edge of everything he hadn’t said pressing against the inside of his chest, ready to spill out…But he just nodded.

Because somehow, Kylie always saw right through them both…

The rain was soft but steady, casting a sheen over the sidewalk…(Y/n) was locking up the shop, hoodie pulled up, hair damp. She jumped slightly when she turned and saw him standing there, hands in his pockets, eyes on her like he’d been waiting for hours…A concerned tone laced (Y/n)’s voice as she spoke…

“Lando? What are you—are you okay? It’s pouring.”

He stepped forward, barely flinching at the rain…“I needed to see you.”“Everything alright?”

He hesitated. Then looked at her the way someone does right before jumping off a cliff…“I’m leaving in three days.”...Her expression softens, nodding slowly.

“I know. That’s okay.” Lando shook his head as he stepped a bit closer and gulped…“No. It’s not…She frowned tilting her head…“Lando—” But he cut her off… “You keep saying it’s okay. That you’ll stand by me. And I love that about you. I need that. But it’s not okay for me. Because I don’t want to go back to pretending this isn’t something real.”

Her breath catches. His voice was quieter but urgent, rain catched on his lashes… “You matter more than anything I’ve done this year. More than any podium. More than any trophy. I wanted to win that race for you because... you’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to come home to.”

She blinked. Didn’t speak. Just stared at him — like he had said something she had been waiting her whole life to hear…“I’m not asking you to follow me. I’m just asking you to believe that no matter where I go — you’re what I’m coming back for.”...and just like that, something crumbled and rebuilded in the same breath…Raina took a step forward, lifted her hand to his rain-soaked cheek…“Then go. And race. But don’t think for a second I’m standing behind you.”She touched her forehead to his.

“I’ve always been right beside you.” He closed his eyes…and for the first time in months, the noise really did stop…Just rain. Just them…And finally, no more unspoken things between them.

The air was sleepy, mist curling low on the ground. The city hadn’t fully woken…Raina walked Lando down the stairs, hoodie sleeves tugged over her hands. He was in jeans and a cap, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, tired but not from lack of sleep — from trying not to memorize everything about her face one last time…They stopped just outside the building.

Silence hanged…“Text me when you land?” (Y/n) smiled up at him…her arms wrapping around herself as she looked up at him… “I will. Even before, probably. You’ll get sick of me.” Lando smiled down at her as she replied…“Already am…He laughed, but it was a little uneven…They stood there, facing each other. The quiet is weighty in a gentle way — like the calm before something changes. She shifted slightly, like she was about to step back, but he didn't let her…Instead, he tugged lightly at the sleeve of her hoodie.

“I don’t want this to be one of those things we almost said. Or something that fades just because I got on a plane.”...Her eyes lift to his…He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone.

“So... I was thinking. When I get back…”

He types something. Turned the phone to show her…A reservation screen for a quiet little place by the water. Candlelight. A real table. Her name…

“A proper date. You. Me. No race weekend chaos. Just dinner. And I am trying very hard not to be completely stupid around you.”

Her brows lifted, amused and touched and blinking fast…“You want to date me, Norris?”..He shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

“Kinda already am. Just figured I should make it official before some other idiot realizes how impossible it is not to fall for you.”...Her breath hitches.

She stepped forward and kissed him softly before she wrapped her arms around him, face tucked into his chest, words muffled but full…“You better come back in one piece.”....He leaned his cheek to her hair, holding her tighter than he probably should…“Always. I’ve got someone to come home to now.”

They pull apart slowly, reluctant. The cab waited at the corner…He lingered a second longer. A smile ghost’s Lando’s lips as he walks to the cab…

“Don’t forget — candlelight, good food, and you trying very hard not to fall harder for me.”

(Y/n) called after him…“No promises, Norris!”

He turned, walking backward for a beat, eyes still on her. “Save me a bouquet.” He says with a smile… “Save me a podium.” She replies as she waves softly…

And with that, he goes — but not really gone. Because this time, he’s coming back to her.

©WHOISRAII 2025 ━ do not copy, steal, post somewhere else or translate my work without my permission.

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awkward-walking-potato · 11 months ago

Note

Do you write for charles xavier?? If so cloud we get a reader who just keeps bothering him while he is working cause they want his attention and every one else is busy? I hope you have a good day!

I hope you don't mind I wrote this Pre Wheels Charles

The afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of the Xavier Institute, casting warm, golden light across the vast room where Charles Xavier sat, surrounded by papers, books, and a holographic display projecting data from Cerebro. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his mind focused on the delicate task of tracking mutant activity across the globe. The mansion was unusually quiet, with the other X-Men off on various missions or training sessions. It was a rare moment of peace, one that Charles was determined to use to catch up on work.

And then, you appeared.

“Charles?” Your voice broke the silence, drawing his attention away from the screen.

“Yes?” He looked up, his expression patient but slightly distracted.

“What are you doing?” You leaned against the doorframe, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Just some work,” he replied, hoping that would suffice as an explanation.

You nodded, stepping further into the room. “Looks important.”

“It is,” Charles confirmed, his eyes drifting back to the hologram. He tried to refocus, but he could feel your presence, still lingering, still watching.

“Everyone else is busy,” you continued, moving closer to his desk. “Scott, Jean, Logan—they’re all off doing something. I’m bored.”

Charles glanced up again, his lips quirking into a small smile. “And so you’ve come to bother me?”

“Pretty much,” you said with a grin, leaning on his desk now. “What’s that?” You pointed to the hologram.

“Mutant activity tracking. I’m trying to—”

“Sounds complicated,” you interrupted, picking up one of the pens on his desk and twirling it between your fingers.

“It is,” he said, still smiling despite himself. He could sense your playfulness, and though he knew he needed to focus, he couldn’t help but be charmed by your persistence.

You sighed dramatically, putting the pen down and plopping into the chair across from him. “Can I help?”

“I’m not sure this is something you’d find very interesting,” he said diplomatically, though the idea of you sifting through the data with him did amuse him.

You groaned and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “Why is everyone always so busy? It’s like this whole saving-the-world thing never ends.”

Charles chuckled softly. “It does tend to keep us occupied.”

There was a pause, and for a moment, Charles thought you might have given up. He returned his attention to the hologram, his fingers hovering over the controls.

But then, you spoke again. “Charles?”

“Yes?”

“Do you ever just—” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Do you ever just want to take a break from all this? From being the wise professor and the leader of the X-Men? Just…be Charles for a while?”

Charles looked at you, truly looked, and saw the sincerity in your eyes. It wasn’t just boredom driving you to seek him out; it was a desire for connection, for a moment of normalcy in a life that was anything but.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, the work momentarily forgotten. “Yes, I do. More often than you might think.”

You smiled, a warm, understanding smile that made something in his chest loosen. “Then maybe you should take a break. Just for a little while. You deserve it.”

Charles regarded you thoughtfully. “And what would you have me do during this break?”

“Well,” you said, leaning forward with a conspiratorial grin, “I was thinking we could take a walk in the garden. Or, if you’re feeling adventurous, we could raid the kitchen for some of those cookies Hank made yesterday.”

Charles laughed, a genuine, light-hearted sound that echoed in the quiet room. “Cookies and a walk in the garden, you say?”

“Maybe even some tea,” you added with a playful wag of your eyebrows.

He shook his head, still smiling. “You’re very persuasive.”

“It’s one of my many talents,” you said, standing up and holding out your hand.

Charles looked at the work spread out before him, then back at you. The world could wait a little while longer. With a nod, he reached out and took your hand, letting you pull him to his feet.

“Alright,” he agreed, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Let’s go see about those cookies.”

As you led him out of the study, chatting animatedly about all the things you wanted to do, Charles couldn’t help but feel grateful for the interruption.

#charles xavier #charles xavier imagine #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier oneshot #professor x imagine #x men imagine #xmen 97

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w4ndal0ver · 9 months ago

Text

The Art of Submission (1)

[minors don't interact, 18+]

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: As a growing author, you're grappling with a frustrating writer's block while trying to craft your next lesbian erotic novel. With a lack of personal experience holding you back, inspiration seems just out of reach. But when a captivating neighbour steps in, offering unexpected support and a tantalizing invitation to explore the depths of desire, you find yourself on a journey that blurs the lines between reality and fiction, leading to a discovery that you definitely weren't expecting.

content warnings: lead up, talk of submission and sadomasochism, flirty touches and conversation.

note: This is the first chapter of a new story that I'm writing, any ideas or inspiration would be appreciated so if you have any ideas feel free to drop them in my requests, other than that buckle in! (I will try to get the next part out as soon as possible)

The Art of Submission - Chapter One

The soft glow of your laptop illuminated the cluttered desk, your cursor blinking impatiently on an empty document. You stare aimlessly at the screen, your fingers hovering above the keys waiting desperately for inspiration to strike. It had been hours since you sat down, hoping to squeeze out something, but your mind felt trapped and foggy, yet every time you wrote a sentence, you only sank deeper into it. The end result had started to feel completely out of reach.

Your last book had done okay. It wasn’t groundbreaking or a bestseller, but it was just enough to remind you that you could do this. You could write and publish your writing and make some level of a name for yourself in the world of lesbian erotica. Not that it was hard considering the low level media attention that your field rarely gained. The reviews had been mostly kind and the sales had trickled in steadily enough that you were managing to stay afloat, but nowhere near the level of success that you first imagined when you wrote your first novel.

Your apartment is a mess, the evidence of your creative block scattered pointlessly across the room. Empty coffee mugs crowded your desk, some still holding the cold remnants of yesterday's caffeine-fueled desperation. You’d also not left the apartment in days, time becoming a blur of restless nights and sluggish mornings, avoiding stepping outside. You found it was easier to stay here, trapped within the confines of your own thoughts, hoping something would come to you.

You lean back in your chair, groaning in frustration. You thought about getting up and attacking the massive pile of laundry that had sat abandoned in the corner for days, but you quickly pushed that aside, realising that there was no point until you at least got another page written. The cursor was blinking furiously at you and you felt yourself going slightly insane. You wanted to smash your head into the keyboard, but instead you imagined yourself doing it which brought a small smile to your lips.

It was at this moment that a sharp knock sounded at the door, you spin in your chair, frowning as you try to glance over at the entrance to the apartment. You wracked your brain trying to remember if you’d ordered something, but you couldn’t work it out and you knew you definitely wasn’t expecting company. You push yourself out of the chair with a deflated sigh, stretching your legs out as you go towards the door. The knock came again, firmer this time. Whoever it was, they weren’t planning on leaving.

Shuffling to the door, you don’t bother to smooth the wisps of your hair or fix the crumples in your shift, you just swung it open.

“Hey, I hope I’m not intruding, but I thought you could use a break.”

You blink in shock, momentarily stunned. Wanda stood in your doorway, her familiar yet distant neighbour from across the hall. You knew her as the woman who you occasionally exchange small talk with in the corridor, but there she was holding a bottle of wine like she’d been planning this all along. Her reddish-brown hair flowed over her shoulders, perfectly catching the dimming light of the room, the colours of her striped blouse almost too cheerful for the cluttered mess that she would soon walk into.

“I can basically hear your sighs from across the wall. Writer's block?” Wanda smiled, her green eyes warm but with a hint of darkness behind them, as if she knew something that you didn’t. She stepped further inside, her presence filling the small apartment yet you didn’t move to stop her, you didn’t feel the need to.

“Yeah no of course, come on in.” You say, brows furrowed in confusion. You hadn’t told anyone that you were trying to write again, come to think of it, you hadn’t even told her that you were a writer in the first place. Suddenly, your cheeks flushed pink in the realisation that she knew who you were.

Wanda set the bottle down on the counter, next to a half empty cup. The sound of it landing felt louder than it should, cutting through the quiet tension that was arising around the pair of them.

“You’ve been in here too long, I thought wine might be a good excuse to step away from the screen for a bit.” Wanda spoke with a caring tone beneath her soft voice, yet you found it unsettling in how she acted so naturally, offering up solutions to problems that you hadn’t even told her about.

Wanda always seemed to have a way of appearing when you least expected it, offering little moments of relief, like that time she helped carry groceries up the stairs. She was friendly, sure, but there was an edge to her friendliness. A knowing look, like she was always a step ahead of you, just waiting for the right moment to weave her way into your life. You didn’t know why, but you weren’t exactly complaining about it.

“You know, I’ve read some of your stuff.” There it was, you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. Your eyes dart to Wanda’s face, as if you were searching for any hint of a joke but instead you’re met with a calm, confident smile. That wasn’t what you were expecting. You’d always presumed that your audience was horny teenage girls, but Wanda was a mind-blowingly gorgeous woman, the exact opposite of who she was expecting. Besides that, your books lived in a cosy corner of the erotic fiction world, usually flying under the radar, definitely not the type of thing a neighbour casually brings up over wine.

“You have?” You ask, trying to sound casual but your voice comes out a little more strained than intended. You walk around the kitchen counter where Wanda had perched herself, your hands almost shaking from the unexpected social encounter. You reach into the cupboard, finding two wine glasses and placing them down between the two of you.

“Mhm.” Wanda leans against the counter, an almost playful spark in her eye, “You’re good. The way you write about submission, it’s real, raw. It’s incredible.”

You feel your cheeks warm up, unsure on how to respond. This was the first piece of praise you’d received from inside your own kitchen. You felt your pulse quicken, the fact that Wanda had read those words, the intimate fantasies that you’d put into your stories was making this situation way more intimate than deemed necessary.

You literally were stuck in a state of speechlessness, but Wanda was acting like she expected this. She lets you stand with your back against the counter opposite her, fiddling with the ends of your hair while she pulls up a stool. “Corkscrew?”

“Oh yeah, of course.” As you turned you wanted to slap yourself, why were no words coming out, you are absolutely embarrassing yourself, yet the redhead was still gleaming at you as if you were adding something to the interaction. You rummage through your drawers to find what you needed before handing it over to her.

“You know, when I first picked up one of your books I wasn’t sure what to expect.” She chuckled, tilting her head thoughtfully as she worked on opening up the bottle. “But then, well, I couldn’t put it down. Dangerous stuff.”

This time you manage a small laugh, still processing the idea of Wanda - the beautiful and put-together woman from across the hall - curled up reading the things you’d written. “I guess it’s not what most people expect from their neighbours.” Once again you’d tried so hard to sound casual that your voice was wavering in response.

“Well maybe we just don’t know our neighbours as well as we think we do.” With that, she pulled the cork from the bottle and filled up the two glasses, leaning in a little closer as a smile grew into a smirk.

You glance down at her as you reach for the glass, “I never really imagined someone like you reading my books you know.” You say sheepishly, taking a sip of the wine hoping to mask the nerves that were creeping up your spine.

Wanda raises an eyebrow, her smirk more prominent now. “Someone like me?”

You shrug, avoiding her gaze as you fiddle with the stem of your glass. “You know, my audience is usually different. Younger maybe.”

She chuckles softly at your response, “Are you saying I’m too old for erotic fiction?” Her tone is teasing, yet there's a glint in her eye that makes your palms sweat. Her comment about submission still lingers in the air, your cheeks continually growing warmer.

“No! No, I just-” You stammer, flustered by how casually she was controlling this conversation, “I didn’t think you’d be into, you know, that kind of thing.” Your voice is desperately pathetic and all you can do is smile shyly, trying to lighten the tension that was twisting in your chest.

Wanda takes a slow slip from her glass, her eyes never once leaving yours. “Don’t assume you know what I’m into,” she comments, voice soft but full of unspoken meaning. There's that look again, the one that says she knows more than she lets on. “But seriously, I thought your writing was refreshing. You don’t hold back and that's what makes it compelling.”

You feel the blush rise again, her praise catching you off guard. “Thanks, I guess.” You mumble, feeling a little more exposed than you’d like.

She waves a hand in the air, brushing off the awkwardness as she crosses her leg over the other. “I could tell you were stuck though,” She adds, swiftly changing the topic with a casual flick of her wrist. “So I figured I’d rescue you from yourself for a bit.”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, “Rescue me?”

She nods, her eyes twinkling. “I’ve been hearing you pace around for days, It’s not hard to guess you’ve got yourself into a block.”

You can’t help but laugh, the conversation switching to something that was making you more comfortable to talk about. “Yeah, something like that. I’ve been staring at that god stupid screen for hours.”

Wanda shakes her head, mock disapproval on her face. “That’s no way to get inspired, sometimes you just need to step away.” She gestures to the wine and the dim, cosy lighting of the room. “This is your moment to relax.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight on your chest lighten ever so slightly. “I guess I have been driving myself crazy.” This would usually be an overstep in a first proper conversation, but the curious look behind Wanda’s eyes made you feel like she was making you say all of this, like she was dragging the vulnerability out of you.

Wanda smiles at your openness, a knowing, almost secretive smile as she lifts her glass to her lips again. “There's a reason they say inspiration strikes when you least expect it, maybe you just need to stop expecting it.”

The laughs were more relaxed now, “Oh, is that how it works?” You tease playfully, finally getting to a point where your nerves have stilled out. You could feel the tension in your body loosen just a little, but Wanda’s gaze still never faded.

She grins at your response, swirling the wine around in her glass. “Well sometimes it helps to just let go.” Her eyes sparkling as she watches you. “So what’s this book about anyway? What's got your pretty little head in a spin?”

You hesitate for a moment, unsure how to respond. There's no easy way to explain what you’re writing without dipping into something personal and intimate. But the way Wanda is watching you so intently, waiting, you decide to just go for it. You’re thinking maybe talking about it will help you sort out what’s been blocking you.

You clear your throat, and look down at the glass in your hands. It’s, uh well, it's another one in the same genre as the others.”

Wanda cocks her head at you, leaning in again. “Mhm, go on.” She pulls out the stool next to her, tapping on the top of it. You smile in the safeness of her space, walking round the counter and sitting down next to her.

“It’s about sadomasochism actually. I’m trying to explore that dynamic, the balance between pleasure and pain, trust and submission.” You feel your face flush, realising that there's no backing out now. This is supported by Wanda’s lips curling into an all too well knowing smile.

“So you’re digging into the darker side of submission? That’s bold.”

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah it’s more about the psychological aspect of it - how it feels to surrender completely to someone else but it's hard to get it to feel real rather than just something for someone to get off on.”

There's a brief pause, both of you deep in thought, but you can feel Wanda’s gaze like a weight on your skin. Her eyes darken, just for a moment, as she processes your words. “Sounds intense.” She murmurs, her voice dropping a little lower.

You let out a nervous laugh, trying to break the tension that you’d created. “Yeah well it’s not exactly an easy thing to write about. I want to portray it with respect.”

The redhead has now turned in her chair to face you completely head on, her head tilted as she rolls her lips together. “Maybe that’s because you’re overthinking it.” She pauses, then adds, almost as an afterthought, “Or maybe because you haven’t experienced it enough yourself.”

Your breath catches in your throat at her suggestion and you can’t hold her stare anymore, quickly glancing away with a small cough. “I- Well I’ve written about it plenty.”

She chuckles gently at your answer, her tone life but her words heavy with meaning. “It’s not quite the same thing though is it?” Wanda’s fingers gently brush against yours as she reaches for the wine bottle to refill her glass. The touch is light, fleeting, but she doesn’t pull her hand away immediately. Instead her fingers linger just long enough to make you wonder if it was an accident or something more deliberate.

You attempt to laugh it off, but your voice falters slightly. “I guess not.”

She meets your eyes again, her gaze almost daring, “You know, sometimes the best way to get through the writer's block is to immerse yourself in the subject matter.”

You swallow hard, praying that she didn’t hear the gulp that erupted in the back of your throat. The air between you had grown thicker than before. “Yeah I’ve heard that before.”

She smiles, leaning just a little closer, her arm brushing against yours as she picks up her glass. “So what’s tripping you up? The emotional stuff, or you know the physical details.”

The way she’s looking at you, so calm yet so confident. It’s like she’s pulling the words out of you without you even realising it. “Both. It’s hard to get the balance right, making the dynamic feel believable.”

Wanda nods thoughtfully, biting the tip of her finger as she indulges herself into your problem. “Have you thought about how you’re building the dynamic between them?” She shifts closer and in the process her knee scrapes past yours under the lip of the counter top. You’re hyper aware of every small movement now and it's impossible to be an accident. “Like what does submission look like to you? What does it feel like in the story?”

You blink, caught off guard by the directness of her question. “God, I don’t know, It's like surrender, like when you trust someone enough to give them complete control.” You pick up your glass again, taking a massive chug in order to keep your hands steady. “It’s like you know they won’t hurt you, even when you’re in your most vulnerable state.”

She nods understandingly, leaning ever so slightly closer to you. “Okay so what does that look like physically, how are you going to write that?”

Your pulse is going crazy now, you’re convinced that Wanda can hear your heartbeat quicken from just her words. “It’s about touch,” You say, your voice almost wobbling, “The way they respond to each other. The way a person can take control with just a look or a gesture.”

As you speak, Wanda’s lips turn up into a smirk, her gaze still unwavering. She’s so close to you now that the warmth of her body is radiating off of your skin. Her hand rests slightly above your knee, the touch intimate, sending a shockwave up the back of your spine. “Show me.”

Your breath hitches, heart racing as her fingers begin to trace a small circle against your leg. The motion is almost absentminded, yet it feels nothing but deliberate. She maintains her eye contact, her expression open but charged with a spark of something playful and dangerously enticing.

You freeze, caught in a whirlwind of sensations as the room feels smaller now, the air thick with unspoken tension. You know exactly what she’s suggesting without her having to say it.

You open your mouth to respond, but immediately close it, earning a small chuckle from the redhead. “If you can describe it so well, you shouldn’t be stuck here right.” The dangerousness in her tone makes the words evaporate and you become acutely aware of the heat radiating from her body, the way her thumb brushes softly against your skin, drawing you in deeper.

Wanda pulls back just slightly, but her hand lingers where it is, a gentle weight that feels both reassuring and electric. Her eyes lock back with yours, searching, waiting for your answer. “It’s okay.” She whispers, her voice soft yet commanding, as if she's completely in control in this delicate moment, “I’m just trying to help you get… unstuck.”

You can’t look away from her, caught in her captivating gaze. Her confidence is wrapping itself around you, urging you to step closer to the edge of your own desires. The space between you is charged, the possibilities suddenly hanging thick in the air as you contemplate what she could do next.

“Have you thought about drawing from your own experiences?” Wanda questions, still attempting to find a solution to a problem you couldn’t tell whether she was actively helping or not. “You know, sometimes personal stories can ignite that spark of inspiration.”

You swallow hard, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. “I wish I could.” You admit, your pulse is still racing from her touch that she has now released, yet her body still remains just as close. “I’ve never really had anything that intimate.”

A playful glint flickered within the green of her eyes, her gaze sharpening. “Really? Nothing? Not even a fleeting moment that made your heart race?” She tilts her head slightly, studying your face as if searching for unspoken truths buried inside of you.

You shake your head, feeling the embarrassment paint itself across your face. “Not like that, I mean I’ve had relationships, but nothing that’s ever made me feel like I was completely out of control, everythings always felt so safe.”

“Safe can be good, but isn’t there something thrilling about stepping outside of your comfort zone?” Her face leans closer to you once more, the feeling of her leg permanently resting against yours now.

You nod, the thought resonating with you, but you’re still hesitant. “I just don’t know how to write something so raw and believable if I haven’t experienced it myself.”

Her expression softens, shifting her weight slightly. Her gaze drops to your lips for the briefest moment before locking back onto your eyes. “Kiss me,” She whispers, the command both shocking and exhilarating.

Your heart races, a jolt of electricity coursing through you at her words. You can’t look away, caught in the depths of her stare. The space between you feels impossibly small, filled with a tension that pulses with possibility. “Just one kiss,” She adds, her voice a sultry invitation. “It might just unlock everything you’ve been trying to write.”

With her eyes gleaming into yours, the world around you fades into the background leaning only the two of you in this moment. You’re drawn to her, every instinct telling you to surrender to the rush of desire coursing through your veins. You lean in, heart racing as you connect your lips together. The kiss is soft at first, a small tentative exploration, but it quickly deepens, igniting something almost primal within you. Wanda’s hand slides from your knee to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if she wants to consume every part of you. You pull back, the softness of her lips still lingering against yours. You’re panting slightly, taking in the depths of what you just happened.

Wanda’s eyes gleam with satisfaction, her finger touching her lip and you can’t help but smile widely at her. “See.” She murmurs, her tone low and teasing. “Just a taste of what it feels like to let go.”

559 notes · View notes

mooooonnnzz · 11 months ago

Text

Forward Beckons Rebound

Dad!Stanford x teen!reader

⚜ 9,8k words OH MY GOD is anyone actually going to read this?

⚜ this was such a pain to complete but writing it was so fun? mixed feelings

⚜ book of bill major spoils

⚜ quick summary: ford is soooo obsessed with finding the secrets of gravity falls and learns to regret making a deal with bill because he almost loses you and he lost fiddleford?? erm...

⚜ bit of gore and blood is described here! u r warned! it's not bad tho i promise

⚜ angst!! + gender neutral reader also instead of stan and ford not seeing each other for 10 yrs, i changed it to 17 cuz it didnt make sense before 😭

⚜ DONT KILL ME PLS but i unintentionally wrote fiddleauthor BUT IT'S NOT LIKE, in your face, nothing is ever stated so take it as you will?

⚜ to anyone who fully reads it, i hoped you enjoyed!! this might flop ngl

Ford stared at his billboard that was filled to the brim with photos of all of Gravity Falls anomalies. A thin string of red was strung across the board, ultimately leading to the middle where a big question mark was laid. For days he’s been theorizing theories on where all the abnormalities came from. Was there a rip in their universe where it expelled all their strange creatures into your world? Or was this a natural occurrence that happens only in Gravity Falls. Ford couldn’t figure it out. Tapping his chin with his pen, his mind raced with thoughts. “Where did it all come from?” He uttered under his breath, eyes squinting in thought. “Where did what come from?” You slip in his lab, placing a plate of food on his table.

“Oh!” Ford yelped out in surprise. “You scared me there, Kiddo.” He says, chuckling.

“Sorry,” You sheepishly smile. “I brought you dinner.” Ford’s eyes graze the plate for a second, making a mental note in his head to eat the food you prepared later. Eating was a waste of time and he can’t waste any time when he’s on the brink of solving the mysteries hidden within this town “I’ll eat it later.” He said with a dismissive tone, his attention going back to the board.

“This again?” You roll your eyes. “Dad, can you back away from this just for a second and eat dinner with me?” You walk into his view, hands locked together as you pleaded with him. “It’ll be quick! You’ll be back to your work in no time!” You add. Your eyes search his face for any sign of him changing his mind but none came. All he did was side step you, his attention so sucked up in his own head he didn’t even notice what you were saying. He only noticed that you were standing in his way. “Dad,” You let out an exasperated sigh, hands falling down to your sides.

“You’re not even listening to me.” You said, your eyes landing on a table. An idea sprouted in your head. You kicked the leg of the nearby table, eyes darting over to Ford, looking for a reaction, anything that’ll give him a reason to look at you but be doesn’t budge. Your heart shatters a bit, he’s been so caught up in his work that you and him haven’t properly spoken in awhile. Him being wrapped up in his work wasn’t abnormal, but to this degree, it was very rare for him to cast everything aside and hyper-focus on his findings. You mindlessly kicked the floor, eyes glued to the ground.

“I’m gonna…” You pause for a moment, voice getting caught in your throat. You couldn’t fully focus on what you were trying to say. You were too absorbed in retaining the tears in your eyes, too ashamed to let them fall. You felt so pathetic for being so deeply wounded that your very own dad pushed you and the food you spent a lot of time making away. There are other problems in the world and you’re over here, on the brink of tears because your dad was being too dedicated to his lifelong work? It all felt so stupid in the grand scheme of things, but it didn’t alleviate the sadness that was bubbling inside of you.

“I’m gonna go,” You meekly said, rapidly wiping the tears that escaped with your arm.

“Not now, sweetie. I’m this close to breaking this case. I can feel it!”

Silence overcasted him instead of your usual banter. Odd, he thought. Whipping his head over to where you stood, he visibly deflated. You were no longer there.

Ford smacked his head in annoyance that was directed at himself. He was doing it again. Discarding the pen in his hand, he went to look for you. “Sweetie?” Ford calls for you, heading towards your room. Not wanting to intrude, he cautiously knocked on your door. “Can I come in, kiddo?” He had his forearm resting against the casting of the door, hand over his eyes.

After hearing some shuffling and quiet sniffs, you open the door. “Yes?” Your eyes are glassy when you look at him and his heart cracks in two. He’s the cause of this. “I came here to apologize.” He said, voice audibly full of regret. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. It was out of line and not a way I should treat you when all you wanted was to spend time with me.” You wracked your brain for a moment, debating whether you should accept his apology or mull over this heartbreak just a little longer. You fidgeted with the door, moving it side to side as you continued to think, prolonging it just to purposefully bug with Ford.

Falling right into your trick, Ford bit his lip, anxiously chewing on the skin. “Are you going to say anything or you’re going to leave me hanging over here?” His hand dragged down the trim of the door, finger tapping on the wall, nervously waiting for your answer. You couldn’t stay mad at him. A small smile pulls to your face and you wrap him in a bone crushing hug. “You better not ignore me like that again!” Your voice muffled through his long sleeved sweater. His arms wrap around you tightly, kissing the top of your head. “I won't, I promise.”

He wasn’t lying when he promised you he wouldn’t get so enraptured by his work like that ever again. He saw how he secluded himself from you and swore up and down he was going to spend less time researching, even if it meant that he had to shove his hungry curiosity away.

But he would be lying if he said he never laid in bed thinking about what he could be doing instead, what mysteries he could be unsolving and what discoveries he could make that would bring him closer to the question that had been gnawing on him ever since he arrived to this peculiar place.

Many nights were spent restlessly imagining what could be the final piece to his concluding mystery. And one day, he had enough of sitting around. Curiosity killed the cat, a phrase you’d tell him whenever his relentless interest in the unknown occasionally backfired on him, circled throughout his brain but he paid no mind. The yearn to find answers was too great. Slipping on his trench coat, he grabbed his bag. Stringing it over his shoulder, he told you that he was heading out. Completely unaware of his plans, you bid him goodbye from your room.

Ford came back a little while with nothing new other than discovering an old inscription carvings in a cave. He had hoped that reading them outloud would at least summon something that would give him answers! But his actions were fruitless. Defeated and annoyed, he came back. Entering the house, he called out for you.

“In the kitchen!”

He removed his coat and hung it on his coat hanger, along with his bag. He walked over to the kitchen, the smell of spices and cooked meat lingered in the air. “Smells good, kiddo.” He comments, grabbing a Pitt Cola from the fridge. You turn over to him, exaggerating an angry look on your face. “I would have normally taken your compliment but I’m more curious on where you went for practically the whole day!” Ford playfully rolled his eyes at your joking tone. “I was out, sweetie. I lost track of time.” He says, popping the soda can open. Your eyes lock on the Pitt Cola can in his hand. “You don’t drink soda,” You turn off the stove, putting the dirty cooking utensils in the sink “Drinking some once and awhile doesn’t hurt.” He shrugs, ruffling your hair. “dad!” you smacked his hand away from your hair. “Go sit down!” You grumbled, to which he complied.

While you were setting up dinner, a terrible headache overcame Ford. Clutching his head with his free hand, he threw away the Pitt Cola, thinking the soda was the cause of his headache. When you called him for dinner, his brain squirmed in pain. He walked over to the table, sitting himself down as he gripped his head. Too lost in the mind numbing pain, he fails to hear your calls.

“Dad?”

No response.

“Dad?” You called out again, kicking him from under the table. He jolted up in surprise.

“W-What?” He groaned out, his hand still on his forehead. “Are you okay?” You reach out to him, hand on his arm as your thumb moves side to side. Ford weakly smiles, appreciating the gesture. “I’m fine, sweetie. Don’t worry about me.” He looked at you, offering a timid thumbs up. “I’m just getting old.” He said, the pads of his fingers pressing against his temples.

“Do you want me to get you tylenol or—?” Ford waves you off. “It’s okay, kiddo. I’ll tough it out.”

For the past few minutes, you’d catch him staring off into the distance, eyes wide and mouth half open. Everytime you would have to snap him out of his trance, worried if he stayed like that any longer something bad would have happened. Abruptly getting up from the chair, he mumbles, “Heading to bed.” Leaving you alone in the dining room. Unsure on how to react, you watched him leave. No goodnight? No kiss on the forehead? You frowned and got up from your chair, grabbing your plate and his. While washing the dishes you thought of all the possible reasons on why he’s acting so weirdly. But nothing came to mind. Drying your hands on your pants, you walked over to his room.

Opening the door, you peeked your head in. You found him fast asleep on his bed. Carefully stepping inside his room, you pull his blanket over his shoulder and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Sleep well, Dad.” You whisper.

The next morning was weird to say the least. You woke up to the smell of breakfast wafting into your room. Curious and hungry, you quickly brushed your teeth and skipped down the hall. “Dad?” You walk into the kitchen to see him cooking up breakfast, a large smile to his face. “You look happy?” You say rather confused, watching as he flipped the pancake up in the air.

“Today is a good day, kiddo!” He said with so much energy you were convinced that your dad was kidnapped and replaced by a poorly made replica during the night. Never once in your life have you seen him so chipper to be up so early. “Is that so?” Ford finishes up the pancakes and sets them on plates. He hands you a plate and puts his down on the table.

He grabbed butter and syrup from the cabidents, popping the syrup bottle open and drenching his pancake with the sweet syrup. “Want?” He asks you. “No thank you.”

He sits down on his chair and picks up his fork. You watched him closely as he cut a piece of the pancake with the side of his fork, the smile never washing away from his face. “Did you have a good dream or…?” He laughed, stabbing the piece of the cut pancake with his fork. “Guess you could say that.” He looked at you, a flash of yellow ignited in one of his eyes. You blink and his eye is back to normal. You shake your head, brushing it off as your mind tricking you. “Okay?” You looked down to your plate, the fluffy pancake suddenly looking unappetizing. The whiplash of his sudden change in attitude really struck you hard. You pushed the plate away from you, taking in a breath through clenched teeth. “I’m gonna eat later, okay?” You got up and headed to your room before Ford could respond.

“That was weird, wasn’t it, Sixer?!” A voice boomed in his head. Ford jumped, dropping his fork. “Can you give me a heads up when you do that?” He grumbled under his breath, recollecting himself. “Oops! Sorry,” Bill laughed loudly in his head. “Heads up!” He warns.

“There’s no point if you say it after.” Ford mumbles, grabbing his fork to continue eating his breakfast. “You humans and their foods,” Ford could imagine Bill rolling his eye. “Hurry up or else I’m going to rip my eye out of boredom!”

Months ticked by and Ford was still strung up on building a portal. When you’d ask him about it, he would vaguely respond by saying; “This will break the boundaries between our worlds!” And continued to mumble incoherently to himself, pacing around the room as he stewed in his thoughts. He also began to collect weird art of this godly being. His lab was shrouded with tapestries, paintings and statues of a yellow triangle. Questioning about the art led you nowhere. Ford would act like it wasn’t such a big deal and make it seem like you’re the crazy one for finding an issue with his sudden obsession with this triangle. You just pinned it as him obsessively worshiping whatever this god is. As long as it doesn’t get too out of hand.

Even if he was knee deep in his work, he still managed to find some time to spend time with you. Outings were pretty common and you made it known that you appreciate him stepping out of his little man dungeon just to spend some time with you.

Everything was going good for Ford and you. He was slowly reaching his answer he’s been desperately looking for this whole time and you were happy to see him in such high spirits all the time. Not that he never was! He just seems more confident in himself, like he knows his self-worth. You wondered what exactly happened to him to make him so assured of himself.

Although, there would be times where his usual outgoing spirit was washed out for weeks at a time, even months. You were always there to cheer him up, to ground him, to tell him that everything was going to be okay during those times. You never thought much of it, just chalking it up as him going through mental exhaustion. It made the most sense to you. After all, he practically spends most of his day going out to that UFO crash landing site to collect scraps for the portal. There’s days where he’s all beaten and bruised and you’re left to take care of his wounds. You pestered him like a mother would to their child.

Ford sat down on the couch with a loud sigh, unbeknownst to him, you were in the kitchen browsing the cabinets for any snacks when Ford started mumbling to himself. “My muse,” He says. “Gone without a word once again.” He groans. You could hear him take off his glasses and place them somewhere. “Muse?” You whispered under your breath. You waited for him to say anything else that you can latch on to, but unfortunately for you, the TV sparked to life. Latest news reports filled the room and you were left stumped with new information.Was this supposed muse the reason why he gets all sad and anxious? Is this Muse a partner he hasn’t introduced you to yet? Your head is thick of conspiracies and feasible reasons but it was cut short when Ford interrupted your thoughts by walking in.

“Sweetie?” He’s surprised to see you in the kitchen, hunched over in thought. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Uh,” You look at the open cabinet, flipping your eyes between the cabinet and your dad. “Not long! I was…looking for snacks!” You grabbed a bag of chips. “Oookaayy?” He walks to the fridge and grabs a bottle of water.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

Like a flash of lightning, your face is sprayed with Ford’s mouth water. “I’ll take that as a no,” You said, voice raspy. You waddle out of the kitchen, dripping water onto the floor. “I’m sorry, kiddo!”

At some point, he needed a few extra hands to help assemble the machine. Ford chose you and an old friend of his, Fiddleford, to be his helpers. Meeting Fiddleford was a delight. He’s a kind hearted soul who had the brains of a genius. When there were slow days in building the portal, he’d play a song on the banjo to lighten up the mood. You all grew close as time went on and you felt like you had your own little family. You cherished every laugh, smile and conversation that passed between you and the others.

“What songs can you play?” You ask Fiddleford who was strumming the strings of his banjo without any thought. Catching his attention, he takes in your question. He considered his answer for a minute or so. “I don’t think it’s a song you’d know.” He says, beginning to play the opening tune on his instrument. “I know Ford will know this one though!” He smirks, head craning over to Ford who was drawing the outline for the portal. As Fiddleford smoothed into the middle of the song, Ford was turned over on his chair, head swaying to the beat. Once the song came to a close, the lab erupted in rounds of applause. “Thank you, thank you all!”

“I remember that song all too well.” Ford grins. You furrowed your brows. “I’m curious. Why do you two know the song?” Your finger switching between Ford and Fiddleford. “There’s nothin’ really special behind it,” Fiddleford lightly shrugs. “I just played this song whenever Ford had trouble concentrating on his work.”

“And it worked?” Ford nodded his head. “Worked seamlessly.”

You weren’t surprised when Fiddleford would start playing the song whenever Ford was stressed out.

June 15th rolled by, Ford’s birthday! You and Fiddleford secretly planned a surprise party for him, something small between the three of you to remind him how much you and Fiddleford love him. You knew he never was a fan of his birthday. Celebrating one without his twin grew harder each year, but you seemed to lessen the ache in his heart and with Fiddleford a part of the little family now, his birthday surely won't be as bittersweet!

Walking over to his lab, you felt your shoe press against something squishy. Looking down to the floor, you saw a pile of dead rats that spelled out his name. The one you stepped on was flattened, mouth hung open as its bloodied guts pool out of it. You let out a scream, stumbling backwards in disgust and horror.

The door to Ford’s lab flew open, a concerned Ford stood behind it. “Kiddo, are you alriighht…?” His words trailed off into the air, his attention now shifted to the pile of dead rats on the ground. “What the…?” His eyes flicker between you and the rats. He looks equally horrified and disgusted. “I’m gonna get something to clean—“ A gag interrupts you. “To clean that up!” You said in a hurried flash, hands cupping your mouth as you scurried away from the scene.

When you came back with a mask covering your nose and mouth, disinfectant spray, a broom and a trash bag; You saw Ford sweetly smiling at the pack of dead rats. “Uh, dad?” Why was he looking at the rats like that? His head flew up, eyes locking with yours. “Oh, kiddo! Th-Thanks! I’ll clean this up, don’t you worry.” He says, grabbing the cleaning product and broom.

“Uh, okay? Me and Fiddleford are upstairs. We made you something.” You tell him, fidgeting with your fingers. A quick “mhm,” leaves him and you’re left to walk back to the kitchen, a little weirded out by his smile. “Did you clean it up?” Fiddleford asked, adding the finishing touches to the cake. “dad’s cleaning it up. He was acting weird though,” You look at the cake. Gorgeously decorated with white frosting all by Fiddleford’s amazing handiwork. “Weird in what way?” He curiously asked. “Like, there was a pile of dead rats that formed his name and he was disgusted at first, but when I came back with cleaning supplies he looked…” You stop, searching for the word in your head. “Touched?” Your voice high pitched with uncertainty “He looked at the rats as if they were a gift almost.”

“Now ain’t that something.” He looks at you with a shake of his head. “Listen, I love your dad but he’s been actin’ weird.” He pushes his glasses up, setting the piping bag aside. “I sometimes catch him talking to himself. I knew to a certain degree he talked to himself, but I don’t remember it being that bad.”

“I notice that too, do you think it’s that–”

“What is all of this?” Ford asked, amusement trailing his voice. The conversation between you and Fiddleford evaporated in thin air and was replaced with you and him both yelling out, “Happy Birthday!”

His birthday went smoothly and perfect in your eyes, if you ignore the hiccup from earlier. Your dad was laughing heartily at what Fiddleford told him, drinks in both of their hands. Plates of eaten cake were left on the table, confetti was strewn about and you were more than satisfied with you and Fiddleford’s work. You watched as the pair happily conversed with each other, sharing old memories of college together. As the mini party came to a close, Ford turned to you as he hugged Fiddleford goodbye. “Thank you for this, truly. I needed this.” Hugging him, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Anytime, dad.” You smiled.

Soon enough, Christmas was right around the corner. The small little town of Gravity Falls was celebrating the festive cheer by blasting music from every corner and littering their house with decorations. Something you also partook in. Standing on top of the very tall ladder, you decorated the roof with Christmas tree shaped lights.

“Kiddo!”

Looking down, you saw Ford waving at you. “Hi, Dad!” You wave back, slowly ascending down the ladder. Once you reached the bottom, Ford had shoved a snowglobe and a 6-fingered mitten your way. “Look at what Fiddleford made me.” Ford beamed, a small hue of pink flushing his cheeks. You picked up the snowglobe and shook it. You watched in awe as the glittery snow cascaded down to the bottom. “He’s so good at making things.” You say, handing back the adorable snow globe. “And a six fingered mitten?” You slipped the glove on. It covered your whole hand and almost up to your forearm due to how big it was.

“Give me that.” Ford chuckled, removing the mitten off your hand with a swipe. “That’s so sweet.” You say, seeing Ford bleed out utter joy. “And look what he got you!” Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a picture frame. Within the frame was a photo of you, Ford and Fiddleford at Gravity Falls local park. All three of you were stupidly posing in the photo, faces pulled in different ways to make the weirdest face ever. The frame was decorated with a mini wreath and tinsel. On the back, he wrote “To my family,” with a tiny heart scribbled as a period. “He thinks of us as his family!” You held the picture frame close to your chest. “dad! I’m going to cry. This is so sweet.”

“He’s one of a kind.” He says, staring at his gifts longingly. “Where is he? I need to go thank him.” Your eyes search around the premise. “I’m afraid you’re too late, kiddo.”

“What?” You quickly turned around. “Is he dead?!” You practically yelled out. “What? No, no.” He shook his head. “He’s out of town. Spending time with his wife.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. “Why did you say it like that!” You shoved his shoulder with your hand. He let out a snort. “Sorry, sorry!” He raised his hands up defensively. “Whatever,” You said jokingly. “Are you done decorating the house?” He wonders, peering his head up to see the lights flashing on the roof. “Not quite. I still need to decorate the front porch and such. Wanna help?” Ford didn’t hesitate to agree. He grabbed your gift and placed it inside where it was safe and started helping you decorate.

Wordlessly, you disappeared into the house for a moment. Ford was puzzled but it all made sense when he heard loud Christmas music grow near. The door burst open and there you were, radio in hand with a multitude of DVD’s in the other. “I had to play some music.”

“Just don’t play the songs Fiddleford plays!”

“Those are the exact songs I’m playing.” A groan was heard from Ford and you had to stifle a laugh. That day was spent entirely accessorizing the whole house. The next few days progressed nicely. The christmas spirit was thick in the atmosphere and nothing could shatter it. And as if it was a Christmas miracle, Ford had told you that Fiddleford came back earlier than intended due to relationship problems back home. He also slid in that he had just met The Krampus before crashing down on the couch. The next hour was you trying to shake your dad up from his slumber to get the full story. How could he drop the mention that he met Krampus and knock out like that?

Later that day, Ford was magically possessed by the spirit of Christmas and chose to decorate the portal with lights and a ‘Happy Holidays’ banner. “What’s all this?” You point towards the portal that was covered in flashing lights. “I just wanted to make the place look festive.” There was another reason why he did this and you read him all too well.

“I bet it’s for Fiddleford.” You tease. He scoffed, waving you off. “I may or may not have called him over.” You squeal, hugging Ford with all your might. “Is this how having a full family feels like?”

“What! Did you not like when Christmas was just us two?” He took your comment very personally, even though a smidgen of him thought the same thing. “No. I loved it, but it’s nice to share the festivities with someone else.”

After a bit of waiting around, a knock resounded through the house. Ford perks up from his chair. “That’s him!” He exclaims. Quickly turning to you, he throws the remote to the lights to you. “When we walk in, turn on the light and throw the christmas confetti.” He instructs you.

“You can count on me!” You said, puffing out your chest. Hiding behind the wall, you heard Ford’s footsteps lull to whisper. Quiet chatter was heard and soon, the footsteps drew near. Your finger hovered the On button. You overheard a tiny little yelp and the sound of something unraveling. Looking towards the portal, you saw a little gnome hanging upside down by his foot.

“Oh, c’mon!” You smack your head. You didn’t have time to unwrap the lights off his ankle. Mouthing a “hold on!” to the gnome, you watched as Ford and Fiddleford’s shadow crept into view. You smashed your fingers on the On button, the lights flickering to life.

A gasp left Fiddleford. “First you decorate the house and now the portal? Gee, Ford! And to think I thought you were a mini grinch.” He jested, delivering a slight punch to Ford’s arm. “I’m glad you like it, Fiddleford.” He said softly. He then coughed to his hand, his eyes moving to the general direction where you were at. “Imagine if we had CONFETTI thrown at us. That would be AWESOME.”

Your eyes widen. You forgot the confetti! Jumping right in front of them, you threw the ball of confetti in their face. Your vision was full of confetti fluttering down. When it cleared out, you saw Ford’s unimpressed face and Fiddleford’s large smile. He cracked into full blown laughter, hunched over as Ford coughed out confetti from his mouth. “Really?”

“Oops?” You awkwardly laugh.

“Is that a gnome?” Ford points over to the gnome who waved at him enthusiastically. “Ignore him…” You said quietly.

Half of the cold night was spent warmly tucked in the lab, all huddled up behind blankets and hot cocoa in hands. Sooner or later, they swapped out their hot cocoa with nog. They both told you stories from their past together, stemming from embarrassing stories to really heartfelt ones. Each story either had you hooked on every word that left their mouth or a messy ball of tears.

“You know,” Ford begins, leaning back, looking at Fiddleford and you adoringly. “Maybe we should stop building the portal.”

Shock strikes you and Fiddleford. “What happened to making scientific history?” He asks.

“Don’t get me wrong, I still want to make history but…” His eyes trail to the portal. “I just want to spend time with my favorite people in the world outside of this lab.” His fingers tapped the floor mindlessly. “I have people around me who love me. Why waste that, you know?”

“Am I goin’ crazy?” Fiddleford whispers to you. “I think it’s the nog talking.” You whisper back.

“I can hear you guys talking!”

Facing Ford, Fiddleford had a light blush on his cheeks. “You tell me I’m the sappy one but I think I’m rubbin’ off on ya,” He nudges him. “Don’t make me take back what I said.” He threatens with no actual meaning behind it.

“Why don’t we go outside to build snowmen? That way I can see you wear that six-fingered glove I tirelessly worked on.” Fiddleford suggested. Liking the idea, Ford got up to his feet. He lent out a hand to Fiddleford who graciously took his hand. “Last one to go outside is a rotten eggnog!”

You and the boys rush to their respective rooms, hastily changing out of their thin long sleeves to their thick jackets and pants. Throwing the door to your room open, you stumbled out of the house and onto the snow where you tripped. Laughter sounded around you. Lifting your head up from the fluffy snow, you saw Ford and Fiddleford already out, all bundled up to protect themselves from the cold. “No way!” You gasped, scrambling to your feet. “Yes way!” Ford said.

The other half of the night was spent building snowmen, making snow angels and snowball fights. You tapped out after a while, hugging the both of them closely. “Best day ever!” You said, throwing some snow in the air. “I’m glad you had fun, kiddo.” His hand patted your back, giving you a kiss on your temple. Fiddleford ruffled your hair endearingly.

“Night, guys. Don’t go too crazy on the nog!” They did exactly what you told them not to do.

A month passed and you believed everything was going alright, you thought everyone was getting along but something happened to Ford a few weeks ago. He’s been more paranoid now, snapping at you or Fiddleford and erratically going off on tangents of how he needs to finish the portal. The talk of discarding the portal many nights ago was lost to the wind. Now it rested as some silly little pipe dream.

Fiddleford was noticeably putting less and less effort in the project. You’d often find him daydreaming on his desk, mind far away from the lab. Your work was beginning to become sloppy, head full of thoughts and worries. You stressed over the thought of how everything was just fine a few weeks ago. Now it was slowly falling apart.

You were taking a break outside of the lab when Fiddleford stormed out. His face pinched with a mix of anger and sadness. “Fiddleford?” You rushed to your feet, running over to him. “Fiddleford, what happened?” You stood in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. His lip trembled, looking off to the side. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Go ask your dad since he’s so keen on yellin’ at me.”

Your heart drops to your stomach. Your dad did what? “D-Do you wanna stay here? I-I can talk to him and you guys can make up or something!” Your words stumbled over each other. You can see your whole world crumbling down right in front of you and it was all because of your dad. “It’s alright, pumpkin. I’ma head home now.” A somber yet reassuring smile pulled to his lips.

“I’m going to talk to him, I promise.” You tell him with a firm nod to your head. “Thank you.” His voice was weak, something you’ve never heard from him before. You brought him into a hug, squeezing him before letting him go. He wished you a good afternoon and left, leaving you alone to deal with your dad.

You sucked in a deep breath and trudged towards the lab. Walking in, you saw Ford pacing around anxiously, a scramble of words tumbling out of his mouth at rapid speed. “Dad?” His head snaps to you, a light yellow glow in his eye. The same one you saw almost one year ago. He blinked and suddenly it was gone. “What do you want, kiddo?” His tone was harsh and clipped.

“I just wanted to talk to you.” You cower a bit. His anxious energy and rude tone shook you to your core. He’s never talked to you with such anger before. “Are you here because of what happened between Fiddleford and me?” He inquired, taking a step towards you. Seeing his face better, you could see that it was pulled into an irritated scowl. “What happened, dad?”

“He was going through my stuff! Without my permission!” He said, his hands cupped towards him, directing them at himself. “And to think I trusted him!”

“He probably got the cabinets mixed up or something.” You shrug, not getting the whole show he’s throwing. Ford pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering to himself. “You don’t understand.”

“Understand what?” Your lips quivered. You felt so little compared to him. He towered over you with such burning anger you couldn’t process that he was your dad. “You don’t understand what’s going inside my head!” He jabs his finger to his temple repeatedly. “You can’t trust anyone, especially him!”

“This is Fiddleford we’re talking about, Dad! He wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” You said. You couldn’t grasp the words that were coming out of his mouth. Since when did he start doubting Fiddleford’s loyalty? What planted this ridiculous idea into his head? Your heart was pounding in your ears.

“So explain to me why he was rummaging through my belongings!”

“I’m not Fiddleford, I can’t answer that question!”

Ford scoffed, he opened his mouth to say something when it faltered close. He was quiet for a moment, lost in his thoughts when he took a step back. His expression screamed betrayal. “Unless you’re siding with him to work against me.” He murmured, eyes narrowed at you.

Your stomach twisted into knots. “Seriously?” Your voice wavered. You closed your eyes, biting your lip to suppress your cries. When you opened your eyes, you were locked on a tapestry of that yellow triangle. That’s when it all clicked. Swallowing your sorrows, you pointed to the tapestry.

“That triangle,” You start. “Ever since you started hanging up those stupid paintings or whatever, you’ve been acting strange in all kinds of ways.” You walk over to it, fingertips brushing the material. Ford eyes you warily. “Is this your Muse I hear you talk to yourself about?” Your fingers wrap around the tapestry.

“Don’t.” His finger pointed at you. You felt like you were a kid again, being disciplined by him for acting irresponsible, for breaking something you shouldn’t have. It made the reality of the situation a lot more serious. This wasn’t something that Ford could shrug off due to your poor impulse control. This is something you chose to do. “Please don’t.” He begged, his eyes glossing over with tears.

You yanked it, ripping it in half. Ford reached out to grab the ripped tapestry but you were too quick. You moved to the side and observed the art designed on it. A flying yellow triangle was depicted as the saving grace of our world. In the background there were people on their knees, while some stood behind them. What stood out to you the most was their eyes yellow, their pupils replaced with a black straight line. You’ve seen those yellow eyes before. You turn your head over to Ford, your heart crushing against your chest. You could barely recognize the man in front of you. He had deep dark eye bags under his eyes, the whites of his eyes had dark crimson veins that irritated his eyes. His hair was disheveled and his chin had little stubbles of hair growing out.

“What is this?” The back of your hand smacks against the tapestry. “Who is this? Why am I just making sense of all of this now?” You shoot questions at him like rapid bullets. “Why haven’t you told me anything about this?”

Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back. “I don’t know if I should tell you.” He says, voice low. “I don’t want you to jeopardize our main goal.”

“What main goal, Dad?” You shot back. “The one you said you didn’t want to do anymore because you didn’t want to lose track of what’s in front of you?” Your hands clenched the tapestry. “I changed my mind.” Ford rubs his forehead, looking away from your eyes, clearly ashamed of himself. “Clearly!” You stared at him for a moment. “Why?” He looks over to you, his face riddled with exhaustion. You soften your tone and repeat it. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” He responds. “Did the triangle guy give you shit for it?” You watch as he winces. Right on the dot. So this entity, this being, it speaks to him. “Does he talk to you?” He nods slowly, as if he’s unsure that the information he’s sharing is allowed to be told. “Dad…” You drop the tapestry. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

A prolonged silence entraps you and him. You stare at him and he stares at you and he looks so terribly conflicted with himself. He looks at you like he doesn’t know what’s right or wrong. He pushes his glasses up, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I need you to get out of my lab.”

“What?” Your whole body tingles with cold chills. You can’t tell if he's joking or not. He has to be joking, right? There’s no way he’s demanding you to leave, right? “Dad I—“

“—I said that you need to leave. Why haven’t you done that already?” His voice is dangerously low. His irritation seeps deeply into his words and punches you right in the heart. You open your mouth, ready to protest, ready to fight with whatever energy you had left in you but closed it.

You backed out.

Kicking the tapestry over to him, you forcefully knock your shoulders with him as you leave. Hot tears escaped your eyes as you ran to your room, shutting the door of your room.

Ford sighs out, despair riddling his body. “And you’re sure that [Name] and Fiddleford devised a plan to turn off the portal?” He asked Bill who floated in front of him. Bill flicked his hand down. “Don’t you worry, pal! You did the right thing.” A distant look was evident on Ford’s face.

“You do a good job at listening to me, you know that, Fordsy?” Ford could only grumble in response.

Bill spun around to face the portal “When do you think this portal can turn on?”

“Tomorrow.” Ford firmly says. “Do you think you can rally those two knuckleheads tomorrow? You need a test dummy afterall!”

“I might be able to.”

The morning blooms to life and you’re left rotting on the bed, not wanting to move from the only place that provided you constant comfort. Hours pass by when you hear Fiddleford’s voice. You sprung up from the bed. What is he doing here? Making a beeline to the bathroom, you quickly brush your teeth and hurry on down to the living room. They’re nowhere to be seen.

You rush to the lab and open the door. The ground shifts as the portal powers to life. You watch as they approach the roaring portal, test dummy in hand. What happens next all happens too fast. Fiddleford’s wrist got tied to rope that was on the test dummy and got pulled along with it, his head getting sucked in. You run over to your dad, hands latching on to the rope that was conveniently on his ankle. Together, you and Ford pull him back in. You fall back to the floor. Fiddleford violently trembles as he speaks some garbled nonsense.

“Fiddleford?”

He sits up, staring blankly ahead of him. “When gravity falls and earth becomes sky, fear the beast with one eye!”

“Fiddleford, get a hold of yourself. You’re not making any sense!” Ford reached out to Fiddleford but he flinched away before he could. “This machine is dangerous,” He states, hugging his arm. “You’ll bring about the ends of the world with this!” He grabs onto Ford’s shoulder. “Destroy it before it destroys us all!”

“I can’t, Fiddleford. This is my life's work!”

Fiddleford looks down to the floor. “I fear we unleashed a grave danger on the world.” He looks petrified. Whatever he saw on the other hand has mentally taken a toll on him within a matter of seconds. He looks up to Ford, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m not gonna ask again.” His body tremors in fear. “You need to destroy the machine, Ford. Please, I beg of you.”

“Fiddleford. I can’t just throw this all away.” Ford says.

Fiddleford studies his face, hoping that a part of Ford was lying. But when Ford’s stern face unwavering, Fiddleford broke. “Then I quit.” He stands up from the floor, his eyes gazing at you one last time before he marches out of the lab, leaving you and Ford stunned.

“Fear the beast with one eye,” You echoed, your mind instantly flashing to the image of the yellow triangle Ford has everywhere. Ford had seemed to make the same revelation. He shuffles to his feet, still shaken up by what had just happened, he stumbles a bit as he goes back inside the lab, pulling out his journal 3 notebook. “Shut off the portal!” He commands.

You don’t waste a second getting up and switching off every knob, lever and button. Sneaking careful glances to Ford, you can see him writing, his pressure on the pencil is so hard that the words he writes come out thick and black. You just stand there and watch him visibly break down, his mental health deteriorating as the minutes go on.

“I need to destroy the portal and burn the journals,” He finally speaks up after a long minute. “And we’re leaving Gravity Falls once I deal with everything.” He slammed the book shut and tucked it inside his coat. “We’re what? Leaving Gravity Falls?” You follow him closely as he leaves the lab, eyes clouded over with fear. “It’s not safe here, [Name].”

The whole day is such a messy blur. Too overwhelmed with your emotions you couldn’t grasp the severity of the situation. You were still hung up on the fact Fiddleford left. The look in his eyes will be forever ingrained in your memory. Everything around you is falling apart and you can’t seem to pick up the pieces and fix it. Sleep was unachievable. Closing your eyes would replay the memories of what happened hours prior.

Footsteps approached your room, but they weren’t the ones you were familiar with. These were messy and uncoordinated. Bangs of someone slamming against the wall shook your room and before you could have any time to react, your door whips open, revealing Ford. You breathe out in relief. It was just your dad.

Ford’s head pulls up as if it’s being controlled by a string and stares you down with a wide smile. His comforting brown eyes weren’t there anymore. Instead, they glowed a disgusting yellow. His pupils were a black slit and you felt your blood run cold and the world around you stopping. You felt like a fool to think you were safe.

“Nice to finally meet you!” Another person’s voice spoke using your dad’s mouth. “Names Bill, Bill Cipher!” He hung out his hand for you to shake. Your body felt like cement was encased in your veins, preventing you from moving. His eyes switched from his hand to yours a few times before pulling his hands back. “I see you don’t do handshakes. I get it! You’re probably thinking where’s my dad right now? What is inside of him? What is going ooonnn?!” He lets out a laugh. “Right? You’re thinking that?”

Your voice dies in your throat, your words failing you. “Hmm, maybe I chose the wrong day to come out…Should I have done it tomorrow?” He thinks out loud, tapping his finger on his chin, exactly the way your dad did. “Well, too late to think about what could’ve happened!” He jolts towards you, his hand grabbing your wrist. You break out of your trance “Let go of me!” You screech. Your fist clenched, ready to blow a punch to Bill’s arm when it hit you, this is your dad’s body. Any injury you inflict on Bill is also harming your dad. “What? Are you too scared to hit me because I’m in Ford’s body?” A cackle leaves Bill. “This will make this so much easier then!”

“Make what easier?” Not knowing what Bill was scheming made everything feel so much scarier. “I’m breaking into Sixer’s lab! But I just need your help.” A warm sensation drips onto your hand and slides down to your arm. You feel bile climb up your throat when you see that it was blood seeping out of the various open wounds Bill had given to Ford on his knuckles. “W-what did you do?!” The wounds weren’t deep, but the skin was ripped open and Bill dragging you down to the lab only peeled the skin open even more. “Just tried bashing the door down. Is it obvious that it didn't work?”

You reached the lab’s door. Blood was smudged on the door, some dripping down to the floor. The strong scent of metal hung in the air and you could feel your stomach churning. “Unfortunately for me, Sixer can be a real genius at times. He implemented this stupid security system so I couldn’t get in!” Bill’s other hand grips your hair. “It won’t work with my eye, but it’ll work with youuurss!” His hand in your hair pushes your head towards the eye scanner. You yelp out in pain. “Oh, stop complaining!” His finger pressed a button and the scanner began inspecting your eye, before it could do a proper scan you screwed your eyes shut. “Oh no you don’t.” Bill pries your eye open and starts the scanner all over again. You tried struggling against it, but his boot stomped down on your ankle, twisting it sideways. “I just wanted to do that!” You screamed in agony, tears pouring out of your eyes.

A loud beep sounded and you thought you were granted access when Bill cursed under his breath. He throws you against the wall, you head knocking against it. “So useless!” He delivers a punch to the door. “I will get access to that portal.” He shoots over to you, a large toothy smile that spreads ear to ear unnaturally took over Ford’s face. “Or maybe I can think of other ways to convince him to–” His eyes roll to the back of his head and he falls back. “Dad!” You crawl over to him, hands on his cheeks as you watch his eyes flutter open. No longer were they yellow.

“Oh, thank god!” You wrap him in a hug, tears falling down your face. “D-Did I fall asleep?” Ford slurred out. As Ford’s surroundings came back to him, his face scrunches up when he’s assaulted with the stench of blood. “[Name], what happened?”

“Bill tried breaking into the lab to use the portal.” You say, giving him a squeeze before giving him space. “Did he get in?” He groans as he sits up, body terribly sore. “No, he didn’t.” His eyesight focuses on you, eyes blowing wide when he sees blood staining your hand and arm. “Did he hurt you?” He grabs onto your hand, looking for any damage. “He didn’t make me bleed. Just gave me a tiny concussion and a twisted ankle probably.”

Ford stays silent for a moment, his head replaying your words. Anger boiled in his chest as he thought of the ways he hurt you while he was possessing his body. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’m fine!” You assure. “I’m more worried about your knuckles.” You say, looking at the splintering skin. “My knuckles?” He casts his gaze over his knuckles and winces at the sight. “He does not know when to give up.”

The rest of the night was you patching Ford up and him patching you up. Conversation floated between you and him as if the previous days were nothing but a nightmare. That’s when he unloaded everything about Bill onto you, from the moment they made the deal to when the portal was revealed to be nothing but a way for Bill to take over Earth. You could see the remorse on his face as he talked, speaking on how he felt so stupid for falling into his tricks, believing the lies he told and how he almost caused a rift between the two of you. You already figured out most of what he told you prior to the conversation, but having it proven to be true and not baseless guesses was astounding.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting for the past year.” He says, holding you tightly to his chest. “It’s okay, Dad. You were under his influence and believed him more than you believed yourself.” You tell him.

From then on out, you and Ford searched for anything that’ll help defeat Bill. Ford stumbled across a book with armor that was supposed to keep Bill out of the mind. The machinery was horribly outdated but by growing on their ideas, you and Ford had a solid outline of a modern alternative. Assembling it was another story.

“Does this go here or here?”

“No..I think it goes here?”

The idea was scrapped and Ford was back to square one. Without Fiddleford’s brilliance in machinery, the protective armor was pretty much unachievable. And right before you knew it, the inevitable came. Ford fell asleep. You walked into his room with what you originally thought was him hunched over his desk, sticky notes stuck to every part of the wall and desk. Bill heard you walk in and shot up from his chair. “Oh, am I glad to see you!” Bill approached you with open arms.

“What are you doing, Bill?” You tried your best to sound menacing but your voice betrayed you. “I’m just trying to convince your dad to talk to me again. Do you think that’s possible?” He grabs your arm and pulls you to the desk. “Or maybe shedding your blood on the post-it notes would fasten the process?” His hands dig in the cabinet, pulling up a box cutter. You watch in horror as the blade pops out. “My blood won’t solve anything!” You said, trying to yank your arm away from his grip but it was too tight. “Then should I spill your blood and his?” He has the blade to your arm and you do your very best to stay still. Any movement and you'll surely rip some skin open. You sit in a pool of your own anxiety, waiting for Bill to slash your arm open but he never does. He drops the box cutter and shoves you. “Doing that will only make him hate me even more!” He yells, bashing his head on the wall repeatedly.

“Hey!” You pull him back by the shoulder. “Are you trying to give yourself a headache!” Bill ignores you and sits back down on the chair, obsessively writing post-it notes where he begs for Ford’s forgiveness. And for a while, that’s how they communicated. Through notes. At some point, the whole room was covered in writings of both Bill and Ford. When that didn’t work, he tapped a snake to Ford’s journal. It was back and forth of childish antics between the two of them.

The more this progressed the more sleep deprived Ford became, the more paranoid he grew. “There’s no other options left.” He said, running his hands down his head. “I was stupid to believe I could defeat Bill and I thought Fiddleford would’ve had something, but he didn’t. Just a ripped up picture of us from college.” In his hands were the two pieces of the photo. You reached a dead end and you’re not sure if you can escape this one. “Has Fiddleford answered your calls?” He asks, thumb caressing the photo of Fiddleford.

“He answered.” You crack your fingers. “He, uh…Doesn’t remember us.”

“What do you mean he doesn’t remember us?”

“I don’t know, he just asked who I was and why I kept calling. And when I told him about you and me he said I got the wrong person and hung up.” Heartbreak, after heartbreak. Nothing good seemed to come out of this situation and you were growing tired of all of it. You haven’t even gone outside to catch a breath of fresh air. You were too afraid Bill was lurking, waiting for you to be alone so he could find a twisted way to convince Ford to be on his side again.

Ford clenched the hand where the photo of himself was. Tears dripped from his eyes and down to the floor. “I’m so sorry for pulling you into this, kiddo.” He says. “You didn’t know that this was going to be the outcome, Dad. It’s okay.” You pull him for a hug. “I was so obsessed with finding answers that I–” Ford stopped himself with a garbled sob. “You didn’t know, Dad.” This was all too real, all too scary. You didn’t even want to think about how it would end.

The months passed through your fingers and before you could sit back and relax, winter was here. Your favorite season. You were unsure on how to feel. The last winter was filled with memories to remember but thinking back on them only brought a chill to your heart. One day, a knock was heard from outside. “Dad!” You run over to get him, your heart bashing against your ribcage. “There’s someone at the door.” A year prior to this, you would’ve been more than happy to open the door, but considering what has happened the last few months, anything that dealt with leaving home was mind numbingly terrifying. “It’s okay. If anything happens, hide in the lab.”

Arming himself with a crossbow, he opened the door. Aiming the crossbow at the person in front of him. “Well, I can always count on you for a warm welcome.” A gruff voice spoke. “Stanley,” Ford drops the crossbow. “Did anyone follow you, anyone at all?”

“Eh, hello to you too, pal.” Ford grabs him by the collar and pulls him in, shutting the door behind him. “[Name], flashlight please! And hurry!” Ford holds out his hand and you place the flashlight you found discarded on the floor in his hand. “W-What? Who?” Ford flashes the lights in his eyes. “Ah! Hey,” The man in the beanie pushes Ford’s hands down. “What is this?” Then his eyes trail over to you. “And who is this?” The gears turn in his head and his eyebrows furrow in shock. “You have a kid!”

“That’s not the point.” Ford urged him to come in. He followed, his eyes never leaving you. “Hi, Uncle.” You nervously waved at him. “Does he talk about me?” Stan asks but he was pulled away from you before you could answer. Ford began spilling to him how he couldn’t trust no one, no one except him. Collecting all the books in his hands he went to the portal, you and Stan behind.

Showing him the portal, he explained how he’s the only person he could trust with the last notebook. He tells Stan to sail far away to keep the book from getting into the wrong hands. ”That’s it?” Stan clenches the book in his hand, a scowl on his face. “I finally get to see you after 17 years and the first thing you tell me is to get as far away from you as possible?”

“Stanley, you don't understand what we’re up against. What we’ve been through!” Ford walks past Stan, his hand gripping his hair. “We? C’mon, Stanford. Don’t tell me you dragged your kid into this.”

An argument unfolded and no matter how hard you tried to stop them from fighting, they continued on. It got to the point where it got physical and where Stan got injured. Ford came to his side, asking if he was okay. Stan, overrun by anger pushed him, Ford’s back slamming against the lever which powered on the portal. Your stomach drops. Last time that portal was on, you lost Fiddleford, you can’t lose your dad too.

Shoving the book into Ford’s chest was the last straw that broke the bridge. The portal sucked up Ford, suspended in the air he threw the book towards Stan. You ran over to grab your dad but he was too far beyond your reach. Your breathing was quickened and your head was spinning. You couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Uncle Stan, do something!”

“Stanley, do something!”

His name was being shouted in his ears, overwhelmed he didn’t know what to do. Ford was fully sucked in and the portal shut off, blasting you and Stan back. When you recovered from the initial blast, you got up to your feet and grabbed the switch. You pulled with all your might, but nothing worked. “Uncle Stan!” You sobbed out. “Do something, please! Help me!”

“K-Kid, I…” He walks towards you. His words were failing him, he didn’t know what to say. He had just ripped your father away from you and he lost his brother. Not knowing what else to do, he wraps you in a hug as you painfully sob into his jacket.

“I’m sorry, kid.”

@catr4dora @squ4respace i hope u guys liked it!! i wrote it with u guys in mind LMFAO and if u didn't im so sorry gulp

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #stanford pines x reader #stanford pines #stanford pines x child!reader #stanford pines x daughter! reader #stanford pines x daughter!reader #ford pines x child!reader #ford pines x daughter!reader #ford pines x daughter #ford pines x reader #ford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #stanford x fiddleford #fiddleauthor #fiddleford x stanford

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loveesiren · 3 months ago

Text

𝙷𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝙱𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢

Thanos (Choi Su-Bong) x American!Reader | Forever Masterlist

a/n: hiiii, I know I haven't updated this story in centuries lol. I actually wrote this part out a while ago but never posted it. Now that I'm rereading it I kinda hate it but I said I'd post it so here it is. It's better if you've read the whole Forever series but if you haven't you can stll get the gist of it. Link for my taglist at the bottom!

synopsis: It's the third birthday Y/n has gotten to spend with Thanos since they escaped the games. Now that they are engaged, she has the best gift to surprise him with.

warnings: fluff, smut at the end

wc: 4.8k+

It was your favorite time of the year again: Thanos’ birthday. A day he had grown up hating, shrouded in unpleasant memories and a disdain for celebration. But for the past three years, you’d been on a mission to change that. You wanted him to associate his birthday with joy, love, and the kind of memories worth cherishing. Slowly but surely, you were breaking through his walls.

The first year, it was just the two of you. You stayed in, baking him the perfect little cupcake with one candle perched on top. Thanos, stubborn and reserved as ever, refused to leave the house back then. But as he sat on the couch with you, laughing through cheesy rom-coms and licking frosting off his fingers, you could see something shift—a tiny crack in the armor.

The next year, you managed to coax him out of his comfort zone. A quiet dinner at a nice restaurant was a big step for him. He had been hesitant at first, but by the end of the night, he couldn’t stop smiling as he clinked his glass of wine against yours.

But this year was different. So much had changed.

You and Thanos were engaged now. The ring on your finger sparkled with the promise of forever. He had recently reconnected with his estranged mother, Choi Bong-Cha, a relationship that had taken years to rebuild. His new album, raw and brimming with emotion, had been a massive success, catapulting him to a level of fame he never thought he’d achieve. And soon, the two of you would embark on a three-month tour—your biggest adventure yet.

This birthday needed to be unforgettable.

Granted, Thanos had long since left his wild partying days behind. He didn’t want a rager or a night that would blur into oblivion. But that didn’t mean he’d get away with just another quiet evening. Not this time.

He was at the studio for most of the day, so you took full advantage of the time to prepare. The house was a whirlwind of activity as you decorated every inch with streamers, balloons, and glitter that sparkled in the sunlight streaming through the windows. The glitter was deliberate—Thanos hated the stuff, but you loved the idea of him muttering under his breath as he tried to clean it up later. You smiled at the thought, a mischievous glint in your eye.

Balancing precariously on a ladder, you stretched to hang a giant “Happy Birthday!” banner across the living room windows. You were so focused on your task that the sharp knock at the door startled you, almost sending you toppling off the ladder.

“Come in!” you called, steadying yourself.

The door creaked open, and Thanos’ mother, Bong-Cha, stepped inside, immediately gasping in horror.

“Get down from there this instant!” she scolded, hands on her hips. Her gaze shifted to your outfit—a pair of shorts and a snug tank top that showed just enough skin to earn her disapproval. “And what are you wearing? You call that appropriate?”

You climbed down, grinning sheepishly as you bowed in greeting. “Hi, Choi Bong-Cha.” you said and pulled her into a warm hug.

“You Americans,” she huffed, shaking her head but smiling nonetheless. “Always driving me crazy with your nonsense.”

You laughed as you took her hands. “I’ll change before the party, I promise. I was just finishing up the decorations.”

“Good. Now help me bring in the food before it gets cold,” she said.

The two of you worked side by side in the kitchen, unloading dishes and preparing the feast. Bong-Cha had embraced you as her future daughter-in-law with open arms. Seeing how happy you made Thanos had softened her heart, and she treated you with the love and care of a mother who had always wanted a daughter. She even helped Thanos pick out the engagement ring, a secret she loved to remind you of whenever she saw you wearing it.

As the kitchen filled with the smell of cooking food, you turned on a playlist from your teenage years. The nostalgic sounds of your 2007 emo phase filled the air, earning an exasperated sigh from Bong-Cha.

“This is music?” she teased, pretending to cover her ears.

“It’s art,” you said dramatically, twirling a spatula in your hand.

Before she could argue further, another knock sounded at the door. You hurried to answer, your heart leaping when you saw your grandmother standing on the other side.

“Halmeoni!” you exclaimed, wrapping her in a tight hug.

“Look at you, dressed like this! Aigoo!” she clucked, shaking her head as she stepped inside. “Go change before your friends and fiancé arrive. This is no way for a young woman to present herself!”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I’ll change, I’ll change!” you promised.

As you made your way to the bedroom, you muttered under your breath with a smirk, “As if Su-Bong hasn’t already explored every inch of my body.”

Your cheeks flushed at your own boldness, but you couldn’t help feeling giddy. This birthday was going to be perfect, filled with the people Thanos loved most. And as you slipped into a new outfit, you couldn’t wait to see his face when he walked through the door.

For Thanos, this birthday would be more than a celebration. It would be a reminder of how far he’d come—and how much love surrounded him now.

The muffled hum of conversation filtered through the walls, a lively symphony of laughter and voices mingling in the crisp evening air. You stood in front of the mirror, inspecting your reflection one last time. The tight, champagne-colored dress hugged your curves in all the right places, shimmering faintly under the bathroom lights. It was a bold choice, one you knew would earn scathing looks from your grandmother and Bong-Cha, but you weren’t dressing for them tonight. This was Thanos’ birthday, and you knew exactly what he loved.

A spritz of hairspray, a swipe of gloss on your lips, and you were ready—well, almost. Scanning the bathroom, you caught sight of the chaos you’d left behind: makeup scattered across the counter, clothes piled haphazardly on the floor, and—your eyes landed on the drawer, partially open. Heat rushed to your face. Right. The toys.

Shaking your head with a rueful grin, you quickly tidied up, shoving away any evidence of the “unholy things” you and Thanos indulged in nightly. With nosy elders roaming around, the last thing you needed was for anyone to wander into your private space and find those.

Satisfied with your cleanup, you turned to the closet, reaching behind a row of purses. Your fingers brushed against the small box wrapped in shimmering blue paper, topped with a pristine white bow. You pulled it out, a flicker of excitement sparking in your chest. This was your gift to Thanos—a surprise you’d been planning for weeks. You could hardly wait to see his reaction.

Clutching the box, you stepped out of the bedroom and into the chaos. The house was alive with energy. In the kitchen, Thanos’ close friends and family gathered, chatting animatedly over trays of snacks and drinks. The air buzzed with anticipation.

“Se-mi! Min-su!” you called out, your face lighting up as you spotted two familiar figures near the counter.

They turned at the sound of your voice, and before you knew it, you were enveloped in their warm embraces.

“I’m so glad you guys could make it!” you said, squeezing them tightly.

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Min-su replied, his boyish grin reminding you of the shy, nerdy kid you’d first met years ago. Now, he looked at you and Thanos like older siblings, a bond that always filled your heart with gratitude.

Se-mi smirked, giving you a once-over. “That dress is going to send Halmeoni into orbit.”

You laughed, shrugging nonchalantly. “The night’s not about her.”

As if summoned by the mention of her name, your grandmother appeared, a flurry of indignation and disapproval. She scolded you in rapid-fire Korean, her voice rising with each word as she tried to pull your dress further down your legs.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you waved her off with a grin. “T is calling. Everyone quiet!”

Stepping into the foyer, you answered your phone. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, Señorita,” Thanos’ deep voice rumbled through the line. “I’m on my way home. Be there in five.”

“Can’t wait!” you replied, your smile widening as you hung up. Turning back to the kitchen, you clapped your hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay, everyone hide! I’m going to throw on a robe so he doesn’t suspect anything. When I turn on the lights, jump out and yell ‘surprise’!”

The room erupted into quiet laughter and hurried footsteps as everyone scrambled to hide. You dashed back to the bedroom, slipping into the silky pink robe Thanos had given you during one of your more playful anniversaries. Its softness wrapped around you like a secret, concealing the tight dress underneath.

The sound of the front door unlocking sent a jolt of anticipation through you. You rushed to greet him, your heart racing as his tall frame filled the doorway.

“Hey, baby,” you said softly, pulling him into a kiss.

“Mmm, missed you,” he murmured against your lips, his hands sliding to your waist. His voice dropped, a low, dangerous whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “Can’t wait to be inside you…”

Your eyes widened as he pressed you against the wall, his hand slipping under the hem of your robe.

“Wait!” you gasped, squirming out of his grasp. “I have something to show you first!”

Thanos groaned, running a hand through his hair, but let you guide him toward the kitchen. “Baby, I just wanna—”

Before he could finish the sentence you knew would get him in trouble with his elders, you flicked on the lights.

“Surprise!” The room erupted with cheers and applause as everyone jumped out from their hiding spots.

Thanos froze, his eyes wide as they swept over the crowd, then landed on you. With a slow, deliberate motion, you let the robe slide off your shoulders, revealing the dress beneath.

“Happy birthday, baby,” you said, your voice brimming with excitement as you wrapped your arms around his neck, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

His hands found your hips, his grip firm as his gaze darkened. Leaning down, he whispered in your ear, his voice laced with both amusement and frustration.

“I was about to fuck you in the middle of the living room. This dress? Not helping. And there’s glitter everywhere.”

A playful smirk tugged at your lips. “When everyone’s gone, you can take all your frustrations out on me.”

“Deal,” he growled, before straightening and turning to greet his guests, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

As the night unfolded, filled with laughter, toasts, and the warmth of loved ones, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Thanos. The man who once dreaded his birthday now stood at the center of it all—happy, loved, and utterly yours.

The laughter and chatter around the room quieted as you emerged from the kitchen, carefully balancing the Oreo ice cream cake on its tray. It was adorned with little Marvel characters, each one meticulously placed—a miniature Iron Man here, a tiny Hulk there, and of course, Thanos himself standing triumphantly in the center.

As you approached the table, everyone cheered and clapped, and Thanos let out a sheepish laugh, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment. But you knew better. Beneath his playful groan, his lips curved into a smile, his eyes soft with gratitude. He’d chosen the name “Thanos” for himself years ago, and the cake was your cheeky little nod to that—a reminder of how far he’d come from the brooding, self-doubting man he once was.

“Make a wish, baby,” you said softly, standing beside him.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, he blew out the candles with one steady breath. The room erupted in applause, and you leaned down to plant a quick kiss on his temple.

After cutting the cake, you passed slices around the table, making sure everyone got a piece. The sound of forks clinking against plates and delighted murmurs filled the room as everyone dug in. But the festive mood only escalated when Bong-Cha and your grandmother started chanting in unison.

“Presents! Presents!”

You saw Thanos tense slightly, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face. He had always felt awkward opening gifts in front of people, but you leaned in close and whispered, “Don’t worry, there’s just a few.”

He nodded, his shoulders relaxing just enough for you to gather the small pile of gifts from the corner of the room. The first one he opened was from your grandmother—a stunning pair of cufflinks, polished silver with delicate engravings.

“These are for the day you marry my granddaughter,” she said, her voice proud but thick with emotion.

Thanos bowed his head in thanks, his lips pressed into a grateful smile as he admired them.

Next came Bong-Cha’s gift. She handed it to him with a rare softness, her usually stern expression melting as he opened the small velvet pouch inside. His hands stilled as he pulled out the dog tags, their metal gleaming faintly under the lights.

“These belonged to your grandfather,” she said, her voice quivering. “He wanted you to have them one day. I’ve been waiting for the right moment.”

Thanos blinked rapidly, his eyes glistening. For a moment, it seemed like he might cry, but he quickly cleared his throat and placed the dog tags gently back into the pouch. He thanked her quietly, giving her a rare, heartfelt hug before moving to the next gift.

Se-mi and Min-su’s gift brought a genuine laugh from both him and you—a pair of small silver squid earrings, their diamond eyes glinting mischievously. Tucked alongside was a note that read:

"Your best and worst memory. You survived, and you found Y/N."

Thanos chuckled, his laughter tinged with something bittersweet. The four of you had never shared the full story with your families, but those earrings symbolized so much: the night you’d all met, the harrowing experience that bonded you, and the unbreakable little family you’d built ever since.

“Thank you,” he said simply, his voice quiet but brimming with meaning.

After a round of hugs and smiles, you stepped forward with a sly grin. “Wait! There’s one more…”

Thanos raised an eyebrow, his smile turning playful. “Señorita, you’re making me open more?”

“I think this one might be your favorite,” you teased, striding over to him and setting the small blue box in front of him. Leaning down, you placed a tender kiss on his cheek and whispered, “Happy birthday, my love.”

Thanos sighed, settling back into his seat as he opened the box. For a moment, he stared at its contents, his brow furrowing in confusion. Then his eyes widened, and he froze.

“You’re joking,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Inside the box was a pregnancy test. The pink plus sign was unmistakable, standing out starkly against the white plastic.

“You’re joking,” he repeated, picking it up to study it closer. His hands trembled slightly.

You smiled nervously, chewing on your bottom lip as you nodded. “No joke, baby.”

His head shot up, his wide, teary eyes locking onto yours. “Baby, y-you’re pregnant?”

“Mhmm.”

The room erupted in gasps and exclamations, but all you could focus on was Thanos. He stood abruptly, scooping you into his arms and spinning you around. His laughter rang out, joyous and unrestrained, as he pressed a deep, fervent kiss to your lips.

When he finally set you down, his cheeks were streaked with tears. He cradled your face in his hands, looking at you as though you were the most precious thing in the world. “I can’t believe it,” he murmured. “You’re giving me a family.”

“Of course I am. You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met.” you whispered back, your voice cracking as tears welled up in your own eyes.

The rest of the evening was a blur of hugs, cheers, and endless congratulations. Bong-Cha cried openly, your grandmother held your hands tightly as she whispered blessings, and even Min-su and Se-mi couldn’t contain their excitement.

Eventually, you found yourself sitting beside Se-mi, who had been unusually quiet.

“You’re going to get so fat,” she teased, her tone light but her eyes misty.

“Don’t remind me,” you laughed, nudging her playfully. Then your expression softened. “Se-mi?”

“Don’t,” she warned, though her voice wavered.

“Se-mi,” you said gently, placing a hand on hers. “Will you be the godmother?”

Tears spilled over her cheeks as she tried to wipe them away quickly, failing miserably. Finally, she turned to you, her face breaking into a watery smile.

“Of course!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around you.

It was rare for Se-mi to show this kind of raw emotion, and you cherished every moment of it. She had been there through everything—your best friend, your sister in spirit, your rock.

As the party carried on around you, you looked across the room to Thanos. He was laughing with Min-su, the dog tags now hanging proudly around his neck, his eyes brighter than you’d ever seen them.

For the first time in a long time, Thanos wasn’t just celebrating a birthday. He was celebrating life. And the future had never looked so beautiful.

By 11 p.m., the house was finally beginning to quiet. Guests had filtered out one by one, their laughter and goodbyes still echoing faintly in the air. Min-su and Se-mi, however, had gotten far drunker than they’d intended. You had to practically guide them by the elbows to the guest rooms, their laughter sloppy and unfiltered.

Min-su flopped onto the bed with a groan, mumbling something incoherent, while Se-mi giggled uncontrollably, half-hanging off the doorway as you tried to steady her. “You guys are always the last ones standing,” you teased, tucking a blanket over Min-su.

“Not my fault your champagne tastes expensive,” Se-mi slurred with a grin, finally climbing into the other bed.

You rolled your eyes, smiling fondly. They were the only ones who ever occupied the guest rooms anyway. This was their second home, and it always warmed your heart to see them so at ease.

As you walked back toward the front door, your grandmother and Bong-Cha were lingering, still fussing over you. Your grandmother pressed her hands gently against your belly, murmuring prayers in soft, melodic Korean.

“Rest well, Halmeoni,” you said, taking her hands in yours as you kissed her cheek.

“Be careful, child. You must protect that baby.”

“I will. I promise.”

After her, you turned to Bong-Cha, who gave you an approving nod as she slipped on her coat. “You’ve made him very happy tonight,” she said.

You smiled at her warmly. “He deserves it.”

When the door finally clicked shut behind them, a heavy, contented silence filled the house. You turned the lock and exhaled, the weight of the evening finally settling over you. When you turned around, Thanos was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his dark eyes watching you.

“Do you hate me?” you asked in your cutest tone, prancing toward him with a teasing smile.

“Let’s see,” he began, his voice laced with mock annoyance. “You threw me a surprise party even though you know I hate surprises. You embarrassed me with a Marvel cake—cute, but still embarrassing. And there’s glitter everywhere. Everywhere.”

You smirked, swaying as you approached him, lifting the hem of your dress just enough to show a hint of thigh. “But?”

His expression softened instantly as his hands found your hips, pulling you flush against him. “But…” he said, his voice low, “I’ve never been fucking happier.” His lips pressed firmly to yours, tender but insistent. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “I can’t believe you’re giving me a child…”

“You’re going to be such a good dad, Su-Bong,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

He winced slightly, but not from discomfort—it was rare you used his real name, and hearing it fall from your lips like a caress always unraveled him. “Go run the bath,” he murmured. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

You nodded, your smile radiant, and skipped off toward the master bathroom.

Thanos stayed behind for a moment, his hand slipping into his pocket. He pulled out the pregnancy test, the little pink plus staring back at him. It was surreal. His breath caught as he studied it, his chest tightening.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his voice breaking as tears slipped down his face. A soft, overwhelmed laugh followed. He tilted his head back, his shoulders sagging under the weight of gratitude. Whatever gods or fate had orchestrated this, he thanked them silently—for you, for this life, for this second chance he never thought he’d get.

Carefully, he placed the test on the mantle above the fireplace. It was small, but it was everything. He wanted to see it every day—a symbol of the life you were building together.

When he stepped into the bathroom, the lights were off, and the room glowed with the warm flicker of candlelight. Steam curled lazily from the soapy water filling the tub, and there you were, nestled in the bubbles, your hair pinned up, lashes fluttering as you met his gaze.

“Join me,” you said softly, your voice inviting, your smile luminous in the candlelight.

Without hesitation, Thanos stripped out of his clothes, letting them pool on the floor before stepping into the tub. The water rippled around him as he settled in opposite you, taking one of your feet into his hands. His fingers kneaded gently into the arch, his touch soothing yet intimate.

He leaned back slightly, his dark eyes roaming over you, drinking in your beauty. “Thank you,” he said after a moment. His voice was soft but heavy with meaning. “For today. For everything.”

You smiled, your cheeks flushing faintly. “Did you enjoy your party?”

“It was amazing,” he said, his lips curving into a small smile. His hands moved to your toes, his lips pressing soft kisses against them. “Your gift…” He trailed off, shaking his head as if words couldn’t capture how he felt. “You were right. It’s my favorite.”

Your grin widened, your heart swelling with joy. “C’mere,” you said, reaching for him.

Thanos shifted in the water, moving to your side of the tub. He pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoed in your ear as his hands gently traced patterns along your arms.

His hand moved gently beneath the water, his fingers grazing over your still-flat belly before traveling lower. The touch was tender, reverent, as if he was savoring every inch of you. His middle finger slipped through your slick folds, eliciting a soft moan from you that vibrated against his neck.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pressed a single finger inside you, his other hand sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb grazing over your sensitive nipple. The warmth of the bath surrounded you, but it was nothing compared to the heat building between your bodies.

“Mmm, fuck, T…” you murmured, leaning your head back against his broad shoulder. You floated in his arms, completely at his mercy, your body melting into his.

His lips brushed your temple as he added a second finger, curling them just right, sending waves of pleasure rippling through you. Your loud, unrestrained moan filled the room, your back arching as his fingers worked you with deliberate care. You could feel the press of his growing arousal against your lower back, a firm reminder of how much he wanted you.

“Feel good, baby?” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and intoxicating.

“So fucking good…” you whimpered, your voice breathy and needy as he curled his fingers again, hitting that perfect spot.

“T…” you gasped, your words barely audible, a desperate plea for more.

“Tell me what you need, baby,” he murmured, his lips trailing to the shell of your ear before placing a slow, teasing kiss on your cheek.

“From behind, please…” you begged, your voice trembling with anticipation.

His lips quirked into a grin. “As you wish, princess.”

Gently, he withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean, his dark eyes locked onto yours with a heated intensity. “You taste incredible,” he said softly before helping you stand, the water cascading off your body as he positioned you at the edge of the tub.

You leaned forward, gripping the porcelain for balance as he knelt behind you. His hands gently spread your legs, and then his tongue found you, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. He took his time, savoring every part of you, his tongue exploring your folds with a mix of gentle licks and firm strokes.

Your whimpers filled the room as he worked you, his lips and tongue driving you closer to the edge. “Fuck, T! You’re going to make me cum!” you cried out, your thighs trembling.

He smiled against you, the vibrations of his chuckle sending another wave of pleasure through you. He pushed his tongue deeper, moving in and out, savoring the way your body responded to him. Just as you felt yourself begin to tighten, teetering on the edge of release, he pulled back, his lips glistening as he stood.

“You’re going to cum on my cock, princess,” he said, his voice husky and commanding.

“Mmmkay…” you whimpered, your desperation evident as you arched your hips, needing him.

He positioned himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips as he lined himself up with your entrance. “Think I can get you pregnant again?” he teased, his voice playful but filled with desire.

“You can certainly try…” you replied, your words a breathy challenge.

He chuckled softly before pressing into you, inch by inch, the stretch making your eyes roll back. No matter how many times you’d been with him, his size always took your breath away.

He started slowly, his movements deliberate, as though he wanted to memorize every sensation. He watched as his length disappeared into you, glistening with your arousal, the sight nearly undoing him.

“You tired, baby?” he asked, his voice thick with affection as he noticed your head resting lazily against the tub.

“No… Just feels so good…” you whimpered, completely overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through you.

His lips curved into a soft smile as he picked up the pace, his hips snapping against yours with more urgency. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, your breathing shallow as you neared the edge again.

“Shit, baby, I’m close,” he panted, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust faster.

The tension built between you until it finally snapped. You cried out his name, your body shaking as your release washed over you, your walls clenching around him. With a few more thrusts, he followed, groaning as he buried himself deep, his warmth flooding you.

He collapsed against your back, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he caught his breath. “Fuck, baby…” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with awe.

“You fuck me so good every time, T…” you whispered, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Guess that’s why we’re having a baby.”

He laughed with you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kissed your shoulder. Slowly, he pulled out of you, both of you sighing at the loss. He reached for the drain, letting the water empty before grabbing a towel and carefully drying you off.

He took his time, rubbing lotion into your skin with gentle hands, his touch lingering with love. When you were dressed in your silky pink pajamas, and he had slipped on a pair of boxers, he led you to bed.

The moment your head hit the pillow, you sighed in relief, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids. Thanos climbed in beside you, pulling you into his arms and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Goodnight, jagi. Thank you for everything,” he whispered, his voice low and full of emotion.

“Love you forever, baby. Happy birthday,” you murmured against his chest, your words soft as sleep overtook you.

Thanos held you close, his heart full as he stared at the ceiling. He couldn’t stop picturing the future—a little one with your eyes and his smile running around the house. Tears pricked his eyes as he imagined the life ahead, a life filled with love, laughter, and the family he’d never thought he deserved.

He lay awake for hours, daydreaming about the life you were building together, until finally, sleep claimed him, his arms wrapped securely around you.

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Tags: @infinetlyforgotten @ldydeath @c1delight @divinefeminineeeee @nicklet94 @i-might-be-vanny @gdinthehouseee @emmiesoverthemoon @pinkpunkdynamite @modzmadness @breakmeoff @burlesquerade @eru-vande @Amyyforshort @gdgirl21 @ttturnitup @Keiraryan @mashtatosworld @kai-277

#squid game fanfic #squid game #squid game thanos #thanos x reader #choi subong x reader #choi subong #thanos #choi seunghyun #thanos smut #choi su bong x reader #choi su bong

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samanthacastano02 · 5 months ago

Text

Hold My Hand Pt1 (18+)

Han Jisung x FemReader x Lee Know

Warnings: Smut, PnV, Threesome, Established relationship, Safeword used, DomLeeKnow, DomHan, SubReader, Oral (FemRec), Fingering, Cursing, Angst, Rough Sex, Unprotected sex, probably more (I wrote this after an 8 hour shift at work, so I am sorry if it’s not my best work, later this week when I have time I’m going to go back and rewrite and edit it, when I’m not exhausted)

Minsung - Hold My Hand Pt2 (18+)

MDNI 18+

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: You unknowingly make a mistake that pisses off your boyfriends Han and Minho, but also turns them on to no end. Han can’t do anything about it at first so he leaves you to Minho, but when Han gets home, things get rougher than intended and things go wrong.

Photos not mine, credits go to photographers

I had spent the day in the studio with the boys, it was my day off and both Jisung and Minho had asked if I wanted to spend the day with them. Throughout the entire day both boys seemed to be on edge, and for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why and no matter how many times I asked them what was wrong they told me to drop it. It kept nagging me but I did what they asked and dropped it because I didn’t want to make the day even more difficult for them because it was a recording day for them. The rest of the boys also seemed to have no idea as to why both Jisung and Minho were on edge, which didn’t help my nerves. Finally they stopped for lunch and Minho grumpily stomped over to me, tossing his hoodie to me. I wasn’t cold but I figured that something about my outfit made them upset so I didn’t question him and slipped it on before following them down to the dining hall that the JYP building had.

Throughout the rest of the day I kept Minho’s hoodie on, but that still didn’t seem to make Minho or Jisung happy. I sadly couldn’t confront them until we got home because only the members of Stray Kids and their team knew about our relationship, everyone agreed that it would be best for now to keep the relationship secret until they could come up with a way to announce it where it wouldn’t cause backlash for the three of us since it was considered unconventional. When Minho had finished recording all of his lines for the day, Jisung must have either said something to him or texted him because he was pulling me up and dragging me out of the room and down to our car that we had taken this morning. As he dragged me, he didn’t let up on his pace, causing me to have to lightly jog behind him.

“Min, please slow down. I can’t keep up.” I try to tug on his hand to get him to slow down but he doesn’t slow down. He continues to walk quickly and ignores my pleas for him to slow down.

It’s a nice break for my legs once we get to the car, I can’t tell what’s wrong by looking at his face. His face is void of emotion, it’s unsettling to me because I have never seen him like this. I don’t know what I did to cause him and Jisung to get upset, but whatever it was I didn’t mean to. As he drives, his hand is on my thigh, kneading the skin not gently but also not enough that it hurts a lot. I try to put my hand on his hand, as a sign of comfort but when I look at him, he shakes his head no and I immediately know to take my hand away. He doesn’t glance over at me like he normally would, it worries me that something is seriously wrong and that this relationship is in serious jeopardy.

When we arrived at my apartment, the place the three of us had been staying so as to stay out of the eyes of the public and give the boys a break from the constant flirting and bedroom activities, he dragged me out of the car and up to my floor. The moment we got into my apartment and the door was shut he was shoving me against the door, his lips attached to mine. The kiss caught me off guard, I was expecting him to get angry and yell at me, for what I didn’t know. I decided to allow myself to indulge and deepen the kiss, I wrap my arms around his neck. I feel his hands tap my thighs, hinting that he wants me to jump. I do as he wants and jump, wrapping my legs around his waist, he pushes me against the door even more, but I know that he wont drop me.

“Min, what’s happening?” I question when he moves his kisses down to my neck.

“You think that you can get away with what you did today by playing innocent?” “But Min, I truly don’t know what I did? Whatever it was, I’m sorry.” “Lies, it’d do you best to be honest and admit that you did it on purpose.” “But I truly don’t know.”

“Am I going to have to spell it out?” “Yes, because I don’t know what happened, what I did to make you and Sungie upset.” “Wearing that perfume, and that shirt.” “What perfume and what shirt?” “The pheromone perfume we got you for your birthday and the shirt that we got you, that you agreed to only wear when you were free to use.” “What! But that shirt is black, the one I’m wearing is white? And the perfume, I was in a rush this morning. I wasn't looking. I’m sorry.” I say as he grinds his hips on me.

“No Jagi, that shirt isn’t black. It was white, with your favorite flower on it.” “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s too late for sorry now Jagi.” he says as he turns to carry me into the bedroom. I know where this is going and I don’t know whether to be scared or excited.

“Minho, I’m serious, I didn't mean to.” I say as he drops me onto the bed.

He doesn’t say anything, instead he crawls over top of me, kissing up to my lips. When his lips meet mine again, there’s that same frenzy from before but there’s also something different now that I can’t place. I decided to not dwell on it and allow myself to enjoy the feeling of his lips on mine. I know that Jisung will soon come home and I don’t know what that will do to our current dynamic.

“You decided to tease us, whether that was knowingly or unknowingly, so I’m going to deal with this. That ok, princess?” He asks as he grinds his erection on me. I don’t answer him verbally, I just nod at him.

He begins to kiss down my neck again, I can feel him grip the bottom of my shirt and tug at it. I sit up slightly so that he can tug it off. He throws it across the room, for once not even caring where it lands, he usually cares about keeping the room clean. Before I could lie back down he unhooked my bra, tugging it off as well and throwing it in the same direction as my shirt. His lips leave my neck and work down to the top of my breast, I close my eyes and allow myself to fully feel the pleasure that he is bringing me, even if it’s just kissing me. I soon feel his lips wrap around my nipple, while his other hand moves up to twist and tug on my other nipple, not wanting to ignore it. After a while, he kisses his way over to my other nipple and begins to give it the same attention. He knew that my nipples were sensitive, even just to touch. When he deems that he has given both of my nipples enough attention, he kisses his way down to the tops of my pants. He looks up at me, silently asking for permission to take them off, when I nod I expect him to just take my pants off but he takes off both my pants and my panties.

As he pulls off my panties, he leaves kisses on my thighs. He starts at my knees and kisses back up to the apex of my thighs. I expect him to tease me but he immediately licks a stripe up my clit, I didn’t expect him to immediately start eating me out. The man knew what to do and he was good at it, I was already seeing stars and he had just started. The man ate me out like a man starved, like it was his last meal, like he was desperate. One thing about Minho was that he loved to overstimulate me, and he knew the best way to do that was by eating me out and using his fingers. The pleasure that he was bringing me caused my brain to go blank, forgetting about the outside world, the reason why I was in this predicament in the first place. I feel his tongue on my clit and his right hand snake its way between my thighs while his left hand snakes its way up to my breast, squeezing it and rolling my nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. He’s being unusually soft with me, both him and Jisung are dominant, liking to be rough with me and each other. I don’t think anything of it, to focused on the pleasure that his tongue and fingers are bringing me, his fingers are hitting the perfect spot inside of me. I can feel the coil tightening, getting closer and closer to my release. He sucks my clit into his mouth harder and it sends me over the edge, I cry out his name shaking as he continues to eat me out and piston his fingers in and out of me.

He barely lets me come down before he’s picking up the pace of his hand again, he knows that once I’ve come once it’s extremely easy to make me finish again. I can feel the coil tightening again, the overstimulation becoming too much but I know that I can still handle it so I allow the pleasure to take over me again, finally after I come down from my second orgasm he gives me a slight break while he removes his clothes. I try my best to catch my breath as I take in the view of him, naked in front of me. No matter how many times I see him like this, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. He turns towards me again and begins to crawl over me, kissing his way up to my lips, I can feel his cock pressing against me as his lips meet mine but he doesn’t push in. I know he won't until I tell him that it’s ok to do so, I wrap my legs around him and try to tug him into me but he holds steady, not until I verbally tell him that it’s ok.

“Min, please. Please, I want this.” I pleaded with him.

“Ok Jagi, but I’m not going to go easy on you.”

“I don’t want you to. Just please do something.”

With me giving him permission, he pushes into me. He groans into my ear as I let out an obscene moan, one that I didn’t actually think I could make. He slowly pushed his way into me, allowing me to adjust to him. His cock is impressive, both in length and girth, the stretch hurts so good. When he bottoms out, he sits there for a few seconds before he pulls back, pulling his cock out until just the tip was still in me. He pushes back into me roughly, pushing the air out of my lungs. I couldn’t form any coherent sentences, only broken words and moans fell from my lips. I clung to him, my arms went around his neck, his powerful thrusts rocking me and shuffling me up the bed. I was so far gone in pleasure that I didn’t hear Jisung finally come home, but I felt Minho pull his face away from my neck and look at the bedroom door.

“What number of orgasms is she on?” Jisung asked as he quickly removed his clothes, as if he knew this was what would be happening when he got home.

“Working on number three.” Minho moaned out after a particularly rough thrust

“Perfect, she stretched out good?” He asks Minho as his hand moves to my breast, playing with my nipple.

“She’s ready for you after this orgasm.” Minho moans as he continues to thrust into me, moving his head back to my neck. Sucking love bites up and down my neck, my arms tighten as I get closer.

“Perfect.”

I’m so lost in pleasure that I can’t even warn Minho when my orgasm crashes over me, I let out a guttural moan and dig my fingers into Minho's back. With my third orgasm crashing over me Minho picks up his pace and thrusts into me harder, extending my pleasure. After a few more thrusts I can feel him finish, his hot cum sending me into yet another orgasm, making it my fourth. While it wasn’t as strong as my first three it was still pleasurable and took me time to come down from. When I came down, I could feel Minho brushing my hair from my forehead, looking at me to see if I was ok. I gave him a weak smile before looking over at Jisung. As I look at Jisung, I can feel Minho pull out of me which pulls a weak whimper from me, the two boys switch places. Jisung now between my legs and Minho up by my head, I don’t even get a warning from Jisung as he thrusts into me.

“Sungie, slow down. She’s already sensitive.” Minho tries to get him to slow down a little, when he notices that he didn’t give me a chance to adjust.

“She can take it, can’t you baby?” Jisung asks as he continues to thrust hard into me, due to the overstimulation I’m already close to another orgasm. I don’t get a chance to answer him when my orgasm crashes over me, I moan out his name.

“Good fucking girl, squeezing me so tight.” Jisung says as he continues to thrust into me, tears now streaming down my cheeks from the stimulation. He wraps his hand around my throat, not tight enough to fully cut off oxygen. When he feels me stop clenching around him, he pulls out of me and flips me onto my stomach, shoving my face into the sheets and thrusting into my hard. I let out a mix between a moan and a cry.

“My good little cum slut, huh. That’s all you're good for, just a cum dump.” I don’t know what to feel about how he’s talking to me. He’s never spoken to me this way before, Minho has but never Jisung. He’s always been the softer of the two, his switch up shocking both you and Minho. Minho reaches for you, but before he can Jisung grips your hair and pulls you up.

“Come on baby, tell me. Are you my little cum slut?” He asks as he seems to thrust even harder into me, I don’t know if it’s the overstimulation or the words that he’s saying to me but I begin to cry even harder. Wondering if this is what he actually thinks about me, does he actually think that this is all I’m good for, just a cum dump, a hole to use?

“Jisung, slow down. Take it easy, you're going hard on her.” Minho tries to get Jisung to slow down but it’s like he can’t hear him, he doesn’t even respond.

“Sungie, please. Slow down.” I try, not as loud as Minho, taking a lot of energy to get the sentence out. He ignores me, seeming to thrust even harder now. I begin to panic, the moment no longer becoming pleasurable but before I can think about it I can feel my 5th orgasm crash over me.

Everything becomes too much, I can feel Minho by my head trying to be a focal point of comfort for me, pulling my attention from Jisung but it doesn’t help. I’m now in my head, thinking that maybe this is truly how Jisung actually thinks about me, that I’m nothing but a slut to him, a cum dump. It breaks me and I begin to cry even harder. I try to muster up the strength to utter my safe word but I can barely speak because I am crying so hard. I look over to Minho but his eyes are trained on Jisung, I can see the questions going through his eyes. Finally I muster up just enough energy to mutter out my safe word.

“R-r-red.” I say barely above a whisper, it’s loud enough for Minho to hear but it’s like Jisung doesn’t hear.

“Jisung, she said red.” Minho grunts out, but Jisung still doesn’t listen, I sob harder. Minho decides that he’s taking things into his own hands and pulls Jisung off himself. That seems to snap Jisung out of whatever trans he was in.

His eyes widen in shock when he finally takes in his surroundings, he looks at me, seeing me curled up in a ball by the head of the bed sobbing. Looking between Minho and I, I can see that Jisung is processing what just happened, as the tears well in his eyes realizing that if Minho hadn’t been here, things could have gone way differently. I hear a thump and turn to see Sungie on the floor, I can tell that he’s now panicking. I look at Minho and I can see he’s stuck between wanting to help me and helping Sungie, even after what happened, I don’t want Jisung to panic.

“Min, g-get me a b-blanket, a-a-and t-then help Hannie.” I make the decision for Minho.

“Are you sure, will you be ok for a few minutes until I get him calmed down?”

“Y-yes, I-I’ll b-be ok. W-we d-don’t n-need h-him p-passing out.” I hiccup as I finally stop sobbing

Minho’s POV:

I worry about leaving y/n in the bedroom, but I know she’s right. If I don’t calm Han down, he’ll panic to the point that he passes out. I grab both him and I some fresh underwear so that we aren’t sitting out in the living room naked. I grab Han and pull him into the living room, pushing him onto the couch before kneeling down in front of him and slipping on his underwear. I pull him up enough to pull them all the way up. He flops back down, crying hard while I slip my own on. I want to be angry about the fact that he didn’t listen to her safe word, and I am but there has to be a reason as to why it seemed like he couldn’t hear her.

“What the hell happened, Jisung?”

“I-I don’t know, I-I’m so sorry. I-it was like I-I wasn’t in control of m-my own body.” “Han, if I wasn’t here-” jisung cuts me off before I can finish my sentence.

“Please, I don’t even want to think about that. I could have seriously hurt her.” “I’m not going to say that you couldn’t have because you could have. Were you angry?”

“I think so? Recording didn’t go as well after you guys left and then the outfit and perfume didn’t help.” “You can’t bring home those issues, and if you do you cannot take them out in the bedroom.” “I know, god Minho she must hate me, she looked so broken.”

“I need to check on her, but I also need to make sure that you’ll be ok while I do?”

“I’ll be fine. Just please, make sure that she’s ok.” he begs me, still slightly crying

“I’ll be right back, ok?”

Han nods at me and then I get up, walking back into the bedroom. I find y/n laying where I left her under the fluffy blanket. I can see that she’s still shaking and shivering, I don’t know if she’s shaking because she’s crying or because she’s in subspace. That thought scares me so I rush over to her, I climb onto the bed and see that she’s crying. It breaks my heart that she’s crying this hard, I know she’s still scared and probably confused.

“Baby, are you ok?” I ask her softly.

“I-is he mad at me?” That question confuses me.

“Why on earth would he be mad at you?” “I-I ruined the mood.” “Love, you did not ruin the mood. And he’s not mad at you, he’s worried but not mad. He’s mad at himself for not hearing you.”

“Does he really think those things about me?” She asks as she snuggles into my side, seeking comfort in my arms

“What things, love?” “That I’m … a slut, a cum dump, a hole, good for nothing but cum.” “God no, baby. Of course he doesn’t think those things about you. He was in his head, some stuff happened at the studio and he was angry and he wrongly took it out on you. And he is so sorry for that.”

“C-could h-he come i-in here?”

“Lovie, we need to get you cleaned up.”

“Could he take a bath with me? I-I think that we b-both c-could u-use it.” “Let me go ask him, see if he’s ok with that.”

I tuck the blanket back around her, slightly surprised that she wants to be slightly intimate again. Even if it isn’t sexual, but if it’s what she wants I won’t deny her. I look back at her and can’t help but think about how adorable she looks. My heart swells with love, both for her and Han.

“Han, love. I have a question for you.” “Yea?”

“Y/nnie wants your help taking a bath while I change the sheets.” I can see his face pale.

“W-what? W-why me, after w-what just happened.” “Baby, she wants your comfort. She thinks that both of you need it. And I don’t think she’ll be ok with you saying no.” “Does she really want my help?” Before I can answer him, we both hear y/n yell from the bedroom.

“Sungie, get your ass in here and help me. Please.” We both chuckle, talk about comedic timing.

Jisung’s POV:

I hesitantly stand up, heading back into the bedroom. When I enter, I find y/n lying down wrapped in a fuzzy blanket. I can see the exhaustion in her eyes, but she looks at me and smiles slightly. Like she’s trying to reassure me that it’s ok, that she’s ok when it should be me reassuring her that it’s ok. It makes me feel guilty, I can feel tears coming back, but I quickly blink them away not wanting to cry in front of her. I slowly walk towards her, stopping just in front of her, I sit down on the bed next to her. I don’t reach out for her and she doesn’t reach out for me, there is an awkward air between us and I don’t know how to fix this. I can see that she is hesitant and I can see the lingering fear, it breaks my heart to know that I’m the one that caused this fear in her. I’m one of the people that should protect her, not hurt her and tonight I hurt her. I hesitantly reach out for her and look at her, silently asking for permission to touch her. She slowly nods at me and I gently pick her up.

“Jagi, I cannot begin to explain to you how sorry I am.” I begin as I turn to carry her into the on suite bathroom. She surprised me by burying her face into my neck, giving it a gentle kiss.

“Sungie, I know you are sorry. I forgive you but do not let it happen again.” “I promise I will never let it happen again, I never want to hurt you that way again.” I respond to her as I set her on the counter, turning to the bathtub, filling it up with warm water and a bubble bath.

She doesn’t respond, rather opting to watch as I move around the bathroom, getting everything set up for the bath. I struggle to look at her, seeing the slight shake in her body still, knowing that I am the cause of it and it’s not a good shake. In the past Minho and I have caused her to shake from pleasure, even cry from pleasure but never like this. I shake my head to clear the thoughts from my head, not wanting to dwell on what happened. Once the bath is ready, I take off my underwear and pick up y/n, stepping into the bath, lowering both of us into the warm water together. She relaxes back into my chest, humming at the warmth, it makes me smile. I don’t know how long we lay in the bath, relaxing with each other, but it’s long enough that Minho decides to come and check on us. Long enough that we realize that the bath water is no longer warm and that it’s time to get out, I gesture Minho over. He comes over with a towel for y/n, I stand up before gently lifting her up and helping Minho wrap the towel around her. Minho leads her out into the bedroom while I step out of the tub and drain it, before I follow them. When I get out into the bedroom I see that Minho is toweling y/n off, I think quickly, getting slightly possessive and run and grab one of my shirts. I bring it over for him to slip over her head once she is dry enough, when he notices who’s shirt it is, he quirked an eyebrow.

“Really?” he questions me.

“What, she needed a shirt.” I responded cheekily.

“You’re a goof, get dressed, lovie.” he taps my ass before pushing me towards the closet

I listen and rush to the closet, grabbing myself a tank top but deciding that I don’t want to wear a shirt so I grab the pair of underwear that Minho had grabbed me earlier, slipping them on before walking out of the closet. Minho doesn’t seem to question it as we all slip into bed for the night, I can tell that he turned on the heating pad for y/n even though both he and I are walking furnaces. Y/n seems to be in the in-between state of falling asleep, not quite asleep yet, but also not fully awake. She turns toward me, noticing my tattoo, and begins to lightly trace it with her finger. I don’t stop her even though it tickles, I know that it calms her, she tends to do it every night before we fall asleep. I know that things aren’t completely ok, but things will slowly get back to being ok, that trust wasn’t completely ruined. I know Minho is hesitant to allow her and I time alone again, but we can work up to that again. He looks over at us, putting his phone down and wrapping his arm around her, while resting it on my stomach rubbing small circles. He may seem stand-offish but he shows both of us that he loves us in his own ways, and we show him in our ways.

Minsung - Hold My Hand Pt2 (18+)

#han jisung angst #han jisung imagines #han x y/n #han x reader #han jisung x reader #minsung x y/n imagines #minsung x reader #han jisung smut #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n

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revelboo · 1 month ago

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Okay, IDK how open you are to these characters, but I'd LOVE it if you wrote Impactor and Springer together with the reader for the sandbox first?

Just getting myself sandwiched between those two is like such an appealing idea LOL

Sure! 🔞 Mass displaced mechs 🌶️

Interludes Pt 15

Impactor x Reader, Springer x Reader

• “You owe me,” Impactor growls, pointing a finger at him as his engex threatens to slosh out on the table. “This isn’t me forgiving you, cause that’s not happening, just you paying some of your debt.” And Springer grimaces. Hadn’t known what would happen, he’d just done the right thing. Or he thought he had. Tries so hard to do right, but now everything is muddled. Servos flexing on his glass as a Decepticon walks by laughing at something his companion said. Decepticons and Autobots all buddies. It rubs him wrong. What was all the fighting for? Shouldn’t someone have to pay?

• “You feel it don’t you, kid? Wreckers don’t retire, we just move on to the next fight until we can’t,” Impactor says, drinking as his optics flick around the room, looking for a companion. Because sullying the kid’s sterling honor? Seeing him wanton and out of control? Prove that any of them can break? He wants that satisfaction. Wants Springer to tarnish himself, give in to those baser instincts with one of the little organics. Debauch that sterling reputation. “A Wrecker in peace time is a dangerous thing.” And he finds what he’s looking for. “That one.”

• It doesn’t matter that you don’t know what the black and white mech singing is saying, those vocals are gorgeous and haunting, as him and his buddies play. The tempo a living thing, winding up and taking off, becoming frenetic. And a hand brushes your arm to make you turn and stare up at a big, green bot you don’t know. And his jaw works, optics flicking around, landing on your face, your body, then away. Shy? Guy’s huge and he’s acting like he’s almost intimidated by you even though you’re pretty sure he could pick you up one handed if wanted to. “Hi,” you say. “Are you looking for a friend?”

• Venting as he glances at Impactor watching, Springer’s jaw works. Facing down Decepticons is easier than this. Because this isn’t what this place is for, even though it’s what it’s become. “Me and my companion were wondering if you-” What’s he supposed to say? Would you like to frag like petro rabbits? He doesn’t do this sort of thing and you’re just smiling up at him to make him even more uncomfortable. What if he breaks you? He’s not really going to do this, is he? Just to try and mend that broken bridge with a mech who can’t even admit he did something wrong? Hadn’t meant for Impactor to get sent to Garrus-9, but he’d been trying to do right.

• Glancing at his buddy as the other mech holds up a glass in salute, you look back up at the mech in front of you and smile. “Sure,” you interrupt as he flounders. And just stares at you. “I’m game.” He’s too cute to pass up and he lets you take his hand and pull him over to his buddy, even though you’re very aware that you couldn’t budge him unless he let you.

• Laughing as you take Springer’s hand by a servo and leads him back to the table, Impactor shoves up to his peds. “You gonna break in the kid?” He asks and Springer makes a noise when you just smile up at him with a cheery little ‘That’s the plan.’ Venting, he heads to the bar to get a token and find a room, aware of Springer reluctantly following with you. And he holds the door open while you and Springer go in. Settling himself in a corner as he gestures at the bed, his optics narrow. “You’ll have to be gentle, I’m not sure he’s ever actually had anyone touch his spike except himself.”

• Stiffening as you smile and push at his chassis, he backs up and sits on the plush berth. Shivering as you slide your palms against his inner thighs to make him spread them so you can slip your body in between. And your little fingers tap against his modesty plating, fingertips sliding against his inner thighs to dip into seams when he doesn’t release his spike for you. When you look up at him, your expression is innocent, but you seem to know what you’re doing. Wonders who else has fragged you. Can’t scent anyone on you when he vents, but he knows some humans like to ‘collect’ Cybertronians. Is that what he is? A tally mark? Doesn’t want to believe that, not when you seem sweet. “What’s your name?” You ask and his jaw works.

• “Springer,” he manages as you press your thumb against his plating, tracing over where you know the panels release. ‘Let me take care of you, Springer,’ you whisper, bending to slide your tongue against the inside seam of his thigh and his venting gets louder. Servos tunnel in your hair as he growls and finally releases his spike for you. Fingers curling around him, you lean down to brush a teasing kiss against the head of his spike just to make him shiver, before backing up and stripping. ‘Lay back for me.’

• “No, he frags you,” Impactor growls from his spot watching, sipping his engex. “Like an animal.” And you raise an eyebrow at him but climb up on the bed on your hands and knees. Springer grimaces when Impactor stares him down in challenge, but shifts up onto the padded berth. Hesitating as you look at him over your shoulder, all soft, fragile skin and so much smaller than he is. Smoothing a hand along your side, he smiles. Tries to pretend this is his idea, that Impactor isn’t watching, because he does want you. Likes the warm, softness of you, that bold, little smile. Needs something soft after everything, after the war. He’s allowed this, to live. Right?

• Part of him expects Springer to back down, but then, when’s the kid ever backed down? You make a soft noise as Springer shifts at your back and slowly sheaths his spike inside you and groans as you take all of him. Slowly beginning to move against you as your fingers fist in the blankets under you, breath catching on a moan. Listening to you whimpering Springer’s name, begging for more, harder, deeper. And there it is. The kid’s hips pumping, thrusts becoming more urgent. Rutting against you as you moan, pushing back to meet him and his servos tighten on your hips. Hard enough he’ll probably leave bruises on that soft skin.

• Whimpering his name as gets rougher, hips snapping against you, making you very aware of his snarling groans, the rough sound of him venting and his plating heating as moves against you. Tipping you over that edge when he thrusts hard and you lose your balance, upper body going down and hips up and you’re gasping his name as you shatter. And he keeps going, dragging it out until you’re trembling under him, coming apart again before he’s driving deep, hips rocking against you as he overloads and fills you.

• Shuddering against you as you look over your shoulder at him, hair slicked to your face with sweat, he reluctantly slips free. Feels like he should thank you. Maybe frag you again. A couple more times. “Get out,” Impactor snarls and he glares at the other bot as he pushes to his peds. “We’re done for now.” For now? Jaw working as you roll onto your back, thighs spread and you’re slick with his release. Wants to touch you, skim his mouth all over you. “Scram,” Impactor adds, getting in his face and he reluctantly hides away his still erect spike, grimacing. Wonders if he’ll see you again as he leaves the room and you.

• “He’s cute,” you say, watching Impactor secure the door and crawl up on the berth to cover you, his mouth sliding over your body. “Any particular reason you wanted me to fuck him?” Mouth covering yours before belatedly remembering you’d had it on Springer’s spike and he bites your bottom lip as he frees his own spike and drives into the familiar, slick heat of you. Rutting against you as you move under him, little hands clinging. “Can I fuck him again?” You ask on a moan and he thrusts deep, getting rougher until you’re whimpering his name, distracted from talking as your thigh slides against his hip.

#transformers x reader #valveplug #tf springer #springer x reader #impactor #Impactor x reader

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bettelaboure · 4 months ago

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Can we have a fic of g dragon x reader showering together? (Fluff with a hint of spice maybe 👀) I absolutely love flirty g dragon especially how you wrote him in your recent fic and GODDAMN IM HOOKED-

⊹ After hours ⊹ | Kwon Ji-yong

⊹ Pairing: Kwon Ji-yong x Reader ⊹ Warnings: explicit language, sexual content, mutual teasing ⊹ Summary: after a long, exhausting day at work, all you crave is the comfort of Ji-yong’s presence. But when he sends you a teasing picture from dance practice, the heat between you builds, leading to an intimate reunion that neither of you can resist. ⊹ Authors note: It might be more spicy than fluff, but I hope you'll like it 🤍

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The tension in your body lingers even as you step out of the office, muscles tight with the weight of the day. Your job as a marketing analyst had drained you, endless reports, back-to-back meetings, and last-minute client demands leaving you mentally exhausted. You had barely touched your lunch, your only break being a few stolen moments to check your phone between tasks.

The office buzzed with its usual chaos—phones ringing, keyboards clacking, muffled voices discussing deadlines. Your coworker, Mina, peeked over the divider between your desks and smirked.

“Long day?” she asked, sipping her coffee.

“You have no idea,” you sighed, rubbing your temples.

“You’ve been smiling at your phone a lot. Ji-yong again?”

You nodded, unable to hide your grin.

“Must be nice having a sexy boyfriend who can dance,” she teased. “Is he finally taking you to one of his rehearsals?”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s always busy, and when he’s not, he’s too tired to do anything except sleep.”

Mina waggled her eyebrows. “I doubt that’s all he does when he’s with you.”

Heat crawled up your neck. “Mina!”

She laughed and leaned back in her chair. “I’m just saying, if I had a man like that, I wouldn’t let him out of bed.”

You swatted at her with a paper folder, shaking your head as your phone buzzed again.

11:47 AM Ji-yong: "Don’t forget to eat, baby. I know how you get when you’re busy."

12:02 PM You: "I’ll try. You too, okay? How’s practice?"

12:15 PM Ji-yong: "Exhausting. The choreographer is making us run the choreo until we drop. But I’d rather be dropping into bed with you."

You had smiled at that, cheeks warming despite your tiredness.

Later that afternoon, you had stepped into the break room for a coffee refill when Mina was gossiping with another coworker, Jisoo.

“You wouldn’t believe it,” Jisoo said. “That client from yesterday? Total nightmare. Had us redoing the entire campaign visuals. I swear I almost quit.”

Mina groaned. “This is why I stick to the research department.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you poured coffee into your mug. “I think we all deserve raises after this week.”

Jisoo smirked. “Or at least a boyfriend who spoils us.”

Mina nudged you playfully. “Lucky girl over here already has one.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your amusement.

At the same time, Ji-yong was pushing through his own day, spending long hours at the dance studio. His bandmates teased him relentlessly every time they caught him checking his phone.

“Man, Ji-yong’s whipped,” Seung-Hyun joked, throwing a towel at him. “She’s got you acting soft.”

Ji-yong just smirked. “You’re just jealous.”

“Maybe,” Seung-Hyun admitted. “If I had someone blowing up my phone like that, I’d be smiling too.”

His phone buzzed again.

3:37 PM You: "How’s my favorite dancer doing?"

3:45 PM Ji-yong: "Sweaty. Sore. Thinking about you sitting at your desk, all proper and serious. Wish I could mess you up a little."

That message had made your thighs press together, a tiny thrill coursing through you.

By the time you shut down your computer for the day, another message had come in.

6:28 PM Ji-yong: "I’ll be home late. Try not to miss me too much.*"

Attached was a picture of him in the dance studio, sweat-slicked skin glowing under dim lighting, shirt off, toned abs and lean muscles fully on display. His sweatpants hung low, teasingly so, the band of his briefs peeking out. He knew exactly what he was doing. The smirk on his lips was undeniable, cocky, sinful.

The entire drive home, your mind wandered where it shouldn’t. You imagined what it would be like to have him right there, to take him against the studio mirrors, his breath hot in your ear, his hands greedy on your hips. You squeezed your thighs together at the thought, feeling heat coil deep in your stomach.

By the time you made it home, the apartment was quiet, still. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind only he could stir inside you. You discarded your bag, toeing off your shoes before heading straight for the bathroom, desperate to shake off the day and—hopefully—the ache that had settled between your legs.

Steam curled around you as you stepped into the shower, hot water cascading over your skin, easing some of the tension in your shoulders. But it wasn’t enough. Not when the image of Ji-yong, sweat-drenched and breathless, still played in your mind. Your fingers twitched at your sides before you reached for the showerhead, biting your lip as you adjusted the water pressure.

Heat bloomed across your skin as the water pulsed against you, each wave of pleasure making you shudder. Your head fell back against the tiled wall, breath quickening, soft whimpers lost beneath the sound of rushing water. Your free hand trailed down your stomach, teasing your own skin, your body already responding to the fantasy playing out in your head.

You imagined his hands on you instead, strong fingers gripping your hips, his lips tracing fire along your neck. Your thighs trembled as you moved the water in slow, deliberate circles, your breath catching in your throat.

You didn’t hear the door creak open. Didn’t hear the shuffle of footsteps. But you felt the shift in the air, the unmistakable presence of someone watching.

“Enjoying yourself, baby?”

Your eyes shot open, heart leaping to your throat. Ji-yong stood there, leaning against the doorframe, still dressed in his sweats and hoodie, hood pulled back to reveal tousled hair and a knowing smirk. His gaze roamed over your bare, dripping form, dark eyes filled with something dangerous, something that made your stomach clench.

“J-Ji-yong—” You scrambled to turn the showerhead away, to cover yourself, but he was already stepping inside, fully clothed, uncaring of the water soaking into his clothes.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement. “I like watching you fall apart.”

Your skin burned under his gaze, embarrassment and arousal tangling together. “I-I wasn’t—”

“You weren’t?” He tilted his head, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Didn’t look like that to me.” His fingers traced along your jaw, tilting your face up. “Were you thinking about me?”

Your lips parted, but the words caught in your throat. He chuckled, low and knowing. “You were, weren’t you? Thinking about me while you touched yourself?”

Your breath hitched. His hand slid down, ghosting over your collarbone, your chest, before resting on your waist, pulling you against his soaked clothes.

“You’re trembling,” he whispered, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Are you that needy for me, baby?”

A soft whimper escaped your lips before you could stop it. His grip tightened.

“Tell me.”

You swallowed hard. “Y-Yes.”

His lips crashed against yours, demanding, searing. The taste of him—sweat, mint, something inherently Ji-yong—flooded your senses. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, coaxing them apart, deepening the kiss until you were gasping against him.

His hands roamed lower, gripping your hips before sliding around to cup your ass, pulling you flush against him. The hard press of his arousal against your stomach sent a fresh wave of heat through you. His fingers trailed lower, teasing the sensitive skin between your thighs. He exhaled a soft curse, lips brushing over your jaw.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he murmured, fingertips tracing along your inner thigh before pressing against you in a slow, torturous rhythm. Your breath hitched, your hands gripping his shoulders, unsure if you wanted to pull him closer or steady yourself.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, voice thick with hunger. His fingers moved in teasing circles, coaxing pleasure from you in slow, deliberate strokes, his other hand steadying your trembling body against the slick tiles. Every touch sent sparks of heat through you, drawing out gasps and desperate little whimpers that only seemed to fuel him more.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” His voice was a husky rasp against your ear, each word accompanied by a deliberate movement that left you arching into him, chasing the pleasure only he could give.

The shower wasn’t where it ended.

He carried you out, water still dripping from both of you, but neither of you cared. He laid you down on the bed, taking his time, exploring every inch of you with lips and tongue, drawing out every sound, every shuddering breath. His hands were both rough and gentle, teasing and possessive, pushing you to the edge only to pull you back, drawing out your pleasure until you were a trembling mess beneath him.

When he finally pushed into you, the sensation was overwhelming—deep, slow, intense. His fingers laced with yours, pinning them above your head, his breath coming in uneven gasps as he set an agonizing rhythm that sent you spiraling.

Every thrust, every whispered word unraveled you further, pulling you closer to the edge. The way he moved, the way he worshiped your body, left you utterly undone beneath him.

When release finally crashed over you, it was with a shattering force, leaving you breathless, trembling in his arms. He followed moments after, a deep groan spilling from his lips as he buried his face in your neck, holding you close.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, bodies tangled, breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath. Then, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his voice hoarse but tender.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, running his fingers through your damp hair. “And I’m never letting you forget that.”

And as you curled into him, exhaustion pulling at your limbs, you knew that no matter how long the day had been, there was nowhere else you would rather be.

The next morning, you woke up to the scent of coffee and the warmth of Ji-yong’s arms still wrapped around you. He nuzzled into your neck, voice husky. “Morning, baby.”

You turned to face him, smiling sleepily. “You made coffee?”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Had to make sure my girl starts her day right.”

You sighed contentedly, curling closer into him. Maybe today wouldn’t be so exhausting after all.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Taglist: @redhoodedtoad @sherrayyyyy @mirahyun

#fanfic #bigbang #gdragon x reader #kwon jiyong #kwon jiyong x reader #kwon jiyong smut #kwon jiyong scenario #gdragon #gdragon smut #gdragon scenario #gdragon bigbang

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y0ur-lovrr · 5 months ago

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—Sleep patterns.

Based off of this song-

A/n; hiii, this was my first attempt at writing some type of angst, so if it’s bad i apologize lol, I haven’t really wrote angst before so I thought I’d try it, spoilers of season two of aib ahead!!

…maybe I will do a part 2 to this 🤷‍♀️

Pairing; everyone x reader (but you can pair yourself with whoever)

—kuina, Anne, And Usagi looked at you as you slumped at the wall, your hands holding onto your abdomen where the king of has stabbed you multiple times-blood spilling out of you like a broken faucet.

“Thank you for playing with me…I gave it my all.” You mutter with a sigh and a faint smile, having already accepted your fate that you had lost at this game, that you had lost at beating the borderlands, but you didn’t seem afraid, even as your eyes closed. It was unnerving seeing you accept fate so easily, as if you gave up on fighting even though you gave the king of spades your all.

They were all beat up to, Anne barely able to sit herself up from the floor, Kuina stabbed multiple times in her side, Usagi stabbed in her knees. But in that moment, you looked worse, and they couldn’t comprehend it, all frozen as they stared at you. You had been there since the beginning, even though you refused to accept the alliance at first, they thought of you as family.

Kuina screeches your name as he knees buckle beneath her, her hands immediately latching onto you and shaking you by your shoulders, attempting to wake you back up-as if you were just taking a nap.

But you didn’t.

You didn’t move, getting shaken with no resistance, even as her tears dripped down her cheeks, even as her bloody hands grip your shoulders a bit too tight.

“Why aren’t they moving?! Why won’t they wake up?!” She asked in a frantic yet desperate tone, ignoring her own pain as she try’s to wake you up, knowing it won’t work, but she couldn’t comprehend that you weren’t going to wake up.

Footsteps came back, the recognizable pants of Arisu sounding out as he makes his way over, just got done blowing up the king of spades. But he stops as he sees the scene in front of him.

Usagi was crying as she leaned back against a wall, trying to stop the bleeding on her legs, Anne laying on the floor with ragged breaths, and you. Slumped against the wall, not moving or barely breathing with Kuina frantically shaking your shoulders, trying to not start sobbing.

It made him feel sick, his breath catching in his throat. Guilt forms in his stomach, his head already starting to spin, maybe if he hadn’t taken so long to kill the king of spades with Aguni, maybe-just maybe, he could’ve saved you. But maybe he could-maybe if he beat the final game quick enough! That would work, right? It had to of, if they beat the final game this would all stop, right?—

“Arisu…” Usagi’s voice muttered, her voice shaky and pained, her eyes looking towards him, watching his eyes move over to hers, his eyes softening at her condition. The tears in his eyes makes her heart clench, he had no idea how all of this happened-the plan to bomb the king was supposed to work, not have it end up like this. It’s a blood bath.

Her eyes spoke a thousand words to him, and he reached out and grabbed her arm, putting it over his shoulder, making her use him as a crutch, carrying her weight easily.

“M-Maybe if we finish the last game it would save them-save them and Chishiya, Anne-“ he sputters out, words trembling over another as his mind worked quickly, and Usagi couldn’t bring herself to argue, knowing that it might work..but it was very thin chance. But knowing Arisu, he wouldn’t give up, he already lost so many-losing you and Anne would just break him.

He doesn’t know it, but hours from now, his found family will be torn apart. And he will beat the games with Usagi and wake up in the hospital. Having no memory of what happened, and you won’t talk him or the others again, not even remembering that you existed.

He will forget the time when you both sat down on the hood of an abandoned car as the sun set down, and how he asked you what you wanted in life. And all you said was ‘I don’t know’, he will forget how that stuck with him.

Anne and Kuina won’t remember how you would ride in the car at night to games, blasting the music on full blast and letting them sing to some song you never heard of before.

Usagi would forget how you admitted you afraid that one time you both were hunting for food, how you admitted that you were afraid of not being good enough, and how you afraid of dying without a fight.

Usagi and Arisu begin to make their way to the Queen of Hearts game, trying to go as fast as they could, leaving Kuina and Anne with you.

Kuina had given up on shaking you and trying to wake you up, instead laying down on the ground, staring up the sky as her gaze often moves towards you and to Anne, and the sight makes her want to cry even more. You promised her, promised her that you would escape the games with her, and that you would still be friends in the other world.

But now you can’t finish that promise, and a part of her wants to be mad at you for that. But she can’t. She could never bring herself to be mad at you. She moves one of her hands and shakily grabs onto one of yours, the blood making it slippery, as her other hand reaches towards Anne’s, silently praying that they finish the game fast.

It’s quiet despite her ragged breaths and the light breathing of Anne, it’s quiet without your constant sarcastic comments and little quips, and she finds herself already missing it, missing you.

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rose-pearls · 1 year ago

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Lost without you

I had an idea this morning and I wrote it until I realised that his had become quite long but hopefully you enjoy this!! Reader is Percy, Annabeth's and Grover's age and is Luke's sister. I am working on requests that I received and my requests are still open if you have any!

Summary: As Luke's sister you had only seen the best in him but as the identity of the lightning thief comes to light your whole world breaks down. (Brother!Luke & Sister!reader, Percy Jackson x reader)

Main taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

Percy Jackson Taglist: @niktwazny303, @abbersreads (open)

The quest had been hard, harder than you could have ever imagined but in the end you did manage to complete it. The only thing you could hope was that Sally Jackson would be returned and that Percy would be able to see her once again.

There was a weird atmosphere at camp, everyone was ready to celebrate when Percy came back but you couldn’t stop watching Clarisse. You had told your brother that she was the lightning thief and yet she was still here, parading around with her siblings.

“Stop watching her,”, you hear someone say softly and you turn around to find Luke smiling at you softly.

“Sorry, I just can’t help it,” you tell him, and he nods slowly before sitting down next to you.

“What is going through your mind?”, he asks after a few seconds of watching a few campers bringing the fireworks to the lake.

“It just seems too easy,” you whisper and Luke frowns at your words.

“What do you mean?”, he says, looking slightly worried but you just shake your head.

“The fact that Clarisse could be the lightening thief. It seems too easy, like someone is trying to make her the thief when she didn’t do it,” you tell him and as you turn to look at him you find a somber expression on his face, but there is some sort of sadness in his eyes that you just can’t place.

“But I’m probably spiraling, I didn’t get enough sleep,” you tell him, and Luke seems a little bit relieved at your words before throwing his arm around your shoulders and bringing you closer.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of it. But right now, you just need to relax and enjoy the celebration. Just be a kid for one moment,”, he tells you with a soft smile, and you nod in agreement after letting out a sigh.

“I missed you,” you say, and Luke’s smile turns sad for a moment before bringing you closer and dropping a kiss on your forehead, lingering as if this would be the last time in a long time, he would be doing this.

“Missed you too little sis,” he whispers, and you can’t help but smile at the words.

“Not so little anymore,” you tease him, and Luke lets out a laugh at your words.

“You will always be my little sister, you can’t escape it,” he tells you and you laugh softly at the words, a familiar warmth envelops you at the words.

You hadn’t really known your father, after Luke had yelled at him, he had disappeared like thin air. The only family you had was your mother, Luke, Annabeth and once Thalia. But the list had grown over the past week, Percy and Grover becoming close friends, even if you couldn’t help but see Percy in a different light. He was handsome, every person at camp could tell you that but it was his personality that made you slowly fall for him, his unwavering loyalty and that true kindness.

“Percy is back!”, Annabeth yells as she arrives and you quickly jump up at the words, making Luke look at you in surprise and Annabeth with a knowing smile. You blushed at the look the daughter of Athena gave you, the both of you had talked about your little crush once you had gone back to camp. The first night back you couldn’t sleep, and it seemed as if Annabeth couldn’t either because the two of you found yourself at the lake, whispering about everything you could think of.

The clapping and cheering of the campers brought you back from your daydream and Annabeth took you by the hand to see where Percy was, Luke following close behind. There he was, looking surprised at the cheering, but still moving forward and you had an urge to go and hug him but as you felt Luke presence behind you, you felt unsure, until Annabeth pushed you slightly forward.

Percy seemed relieved at the sight of you, but you told yourself it was because he could also see Annabeth behind you. The cheers seemed to get louder as you brought him into a hug, his arms quickly wrapping themselves around you, holding you close. There was that familiar smell of the ocean, that always seemed to cling to him.

“Do you see her?”, you can’t help but ask and you can feel Percy’s confusion until her whispers Clarisse’s name.

“What is she doing here?”, he whispers, and you shake your head.

“Not here, we’ll talk about it in the cabin,” you tell him and Percy nods as you slowly let go of him, not seeing the disappointed look that appears in Percy’s eyes. Annabeth joins the two of you and she quickly brings Percy into a quick hug. You turn to look at your brother, who has a somber expression on his face, his eyes hard but they soften at the sight of you watching him.

“Why is she still here?”, Percy asks as the four of you find yourself in the Hermes cabin, Luke had quickly joined you after you left the celebrations.

“Camp was a mess when you weren’t here, everyone was ready to fight each other. An accusation against Clarisse,”

“Without proof,” Annabeth adds, making Luke nod in agreement.

“Exactly, without proof, it would’ve lit this whole place on fire,” Luke tries to explain, and you nod in agreement, people had seemed tense when you had come back.

“Now you’re back, you saved the world by stopping the war,” a proud smile appears on your lips at Luke’s words and Percy somehow stands straighter, he had always looked up to Luke.

“It’s time to tell Chiron and clean up this whole mess. I told him that we wanted to meet him away from the celebration, so that no one could hear us, especially Clarisse supporters,” Luke explains further, and you can’t help but have a bad feeling, but you brushed it away, thinking that it was just the lack of sleep that made you paranoid.

“I’ll keep an eye on Clarisse while you are gone,” Annabeth says and Luke nods in agreement.

“The both of you can do that,” Luke says while looking at you and you quickly agree.

“Of course,” you tell them, trying to smile reassuringly and it seems to work, only Percy looks at you with a worried gaze, but you ignore it.

“Great, then we will meet back here. Ready?”, Luke asks Percy and the boy nods, looking confident as the two of them leave towards the clearing.

Annabeth and you had been watching the Ares kids, Clarisse at the center of the circle, talking and laughing with her siblings.

“Annie, I have a bad feeling,” you whisper, and she looks at you in surprise, but there is something in her eyes that make you think she understands what you are saying.

“About Clarisse?”, she asks, and you nod slowly, trying to find the words to explain it all.

“Don’t worry, she won’t do anything to us and if she tries, we will be able to defend ourselves,” she says but you shake your head at her words.

“Clarisse being the one to steal the master bold is too easy, it’s like a trap to hide the real person behind it. I can’t stop thinking about it, but it just doesn’t make sense that she would steal it,” you explain and Annabeth seems to think for a moment, her eyes focused before she looks at you with wide eyes.

“Who could be the one that stole it?”, she asks, and you shrug your shoulders.

“I don’t know, I just can’t stop thinking that there is something wrong here,” you tell her, and she nods slowly.

“We need to find Luke and Percy, hopefully before they speak to Chiron,” she says and there is an urgency in her tone as she makes you stand up from your hiding place.

The woods are quiet, the only sound resonating through it are the distant sounds of fireworks and cheers from the campers. You see Luke and Percy standing there but before you can go there, Annabeth stops you, a finger on her mouth to tell you to stay quiet.

“The reason Clarisse is still here is because you never said anything to Chiron. Did you?”, Percy says, and you feel breathless for a moment, Annabeth looks at you with equally worried eyes.

“You couldn’t. Because you knew that Clarisse didn’t steal the bolt. You did,” the words linger in the air, and you feel like you are suffocating on the words you just heard. You wait for Luke to say it isn’t true and that Percy got it all wrong.

“You worked with Ares to plant it on me, so when the shoes you gave me would pull me into Tartarus the bolt would be delivered to Kronos,” you feel sick at the words and Annabeth looks as devastated as you. You pray for this to all be just a dream, you even pray to your dad to wake you up from this nightmare.

“I didn’t think you would give them to Grover to wear,” Luke says, in a voice that you had never heard before and you want to throw up at the words. You still remember the deep fear that had gripped you when Grover started being pulled towards the large hole. Annabeth has tears in her eyes as you shake your head, your ears ringing as you hear Luke continue his speech.

You knew that he hated the gods, for what they did to all of you, for what your father did to your mother. But you never thought he would do this, betray camp and follow Kronos.

“You are being manipulated by Kronos,” Percy tells him, and you desperately wait for Luke to realize his mistake.

“No, he opened my eyes,” Luke says, and you don’t recognize the voice of your older brother.

The sound of swords hitting each other make you look up, holding Annabeth’s hand to try and reassure her and you at the same time.

“Our parents aren’t perfect, but they are trying. I met your dad,” Percy says and before you can even think of warning Percy about speaking of Hermes to Luke you hear the sound of swords clashing against each other.

You want to get up and put an end to this, but Annabeth holds your hand tighter and shakes her head as you look at her.

“I need to help him,” you whisper, and she shakes her head, sadness in her eyes.

“Who? Luke or Percy?”, she asks, and you feel like the world has shattered around you.

“Percy,” you whisper, and she nods in agreement, but she looks pained at the words. You don’t realize tears are streaming down your face until a tear falls on your hand, making you look at a teary-eyed Annabeth.

“I’m sorry,” you hear Percy say and you lift your head up just in time to see Luke slice open Percy’s arm, making you feel sick.

Your dagger flies quickly through the air, making both boys look at you. Luke seems pained at the sight of you, like you are piercing your dagger through his chest, like you were the one betraying him.

He whispers your name; sadness covers his words and for a moment you wonder if this is your big brother again. The one who had helped you through the nightmares, who had protected you from every monster you had ever seen.

“This is not what it looks like,” he says, his tone now pleading but you shake your head.

“I heard everything Luke,” you tell him, your voice breaking over the words and Annabeth appears next to you, making Luke look even more pained.

“You made us all turn against an innocent person, when you were the one who had stolen the bolt,” you tell him, and he tries to speak but you shake your head.

“Don’t try to tell me you can explain this, because even if you did it would always come back to the fact that you were the one who did it,” you tell him, and Luke has tears in his eyes at your words.

“I did this for us, to stop the Gods from being able to do whatever they wanted with us,” he tries to say but you scoff at the words.

“You did this for yourself!”, you scream, feeling like someone is killing you from the inside.

“Don’t come here and tell us that you did this for us when you nearly send us all to our deaths with your plan,” Luke closes his eyes at your words, his hand wrapped tightly around his sword.

“Don’t do this, don’t go through with this,” you plead, trying to make him understand that there is still another way.

“I have to, I won’t go back to just doing whatever the Gods want us to do,” he says, in a voice that is so cold that you feel lost.

“But you can join me, we can escape this all and go make a better world. You and me, like old times,” Luke says, and you feel tears falling down your cheeks as Luke gets closer to you, there is a softness in his eyes that always came when talking to you.

You don’t know what to say, you don’t want to lose your big brother, not when you practically lose your mother every time you see her. There is a soft whisper of your name, and you turn to see Percy looking at you with pleading eyes, he is holding his arm, where he had been hit by Luke.

“I can’t, I can’t join you,” you say to Luke, and it is perhaps the hardest thing you ever had to say to your brother. But watching his emotions change before your eyes from a soft look to pure rage made it all worse.

“So, you are choosing him, a guy you haven’t known for more than two weeks over your brother?”, there is sarcasm dripping over his words but the anger radiating from him makes you take a step back.

“I don’t want to Luke, but you give me no choice,” you tell him, hoping that your bother will come back to his senses, but he lets out a cold laugh that makes you shiver.

Percy quickly comes in front of you, putting you behind him to make sure you are safe, and Riptide is in his hand. His other hand is still holding you behind him and you look at Annabeth who takes out her own dagger and points it at Luke.

Your brother looks pained at the sight of his other sister turning against him and for a moment you think that he will be fighting the two of them before he runs and disappears into the portal. You look at it, watching the light from the sign he had carved disappearing, and you feel lost, like you had just lost a part of yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Percy says, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes, he looks sad, and you could understand why, the man he had looked up to turned out to be the bad guy all along.

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” you tell him before turning to look at Annabeth who has finally let the tears fall down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry Annie,” you tell her before bringing her into a tight hug, the girl holds you just as tight and the two of you stay like that for a moment, trying to put yourselves together again.

“I’m sorry too,” she whispers, and you just squeeze her in response before letting her go and wiping away the tears that had fallen on your cheeks.

Percy has an awkward smile as you turn back to him, but you just step towards him, taking his arm in your hand and looking at the wound in worry.

“You should have this checked out after we talk to Chiron,” you tell him as you brush the skin just under it, but as the boy doesn’t answer you look up to find him looking at you with wide eyes and rosy cheeks.

“I will,” he says after clearing his throat and you nod slowly, feeling a blush appearing on your cheeks as you realize you had been holding his arms for a moment.

“Right, sorry,” you say, and you take your hand away, but Percy takes your hand in his. He looks away as you look at him in surprise, but you hold his hand tighter.

“Thought you might want some reassurance after what happened and didn’t want you to get lost in the woods,” he says, and you glare at the boy as his eyes light up in mischief.

“You ass, I got lost one time and you weren’t even here!”, you say but your words aren’t heard as Annabeth and Percy start laughing.

“Common seaweed brain, we should get you some water to heal that wound,” Annabeth says and Percy nods in agreement before following her towards the lake, his hand still holding yours as if he was scared you would disappear.

You turn to look at the portal one last time, wondering if Luke would suddenly appear again and tell you that it was all a misunderstanding. But it stays void, making you turn back towards your friends and join the conversation.

“What does she think of it all?”, you hear Percy ask and both Annabeth and you turn to find him standing there with a smile.

“It’s a tree seaweed brain, it doesn’t talk,” she says with an eyeroll but there is a fond smile on her lips.

“But I’m sure she would be thrilled about it,” you tell Annabeth, making the girl smile as you join her and Percy.

“What are you going to do with your dad?”, the boy asks, and you turn to look at Annabeth with a smile.

“He wants to go to New York, so I’ll pretend I haven’t been there. And then he wants to take me to someplace called Disneyworld. It sounds a little like Waterland but less dangerous,” she says, looking slightly unsure and you can’t stop yourself from smiling even wider.

“Or did I understand that wrong? You better tell me what I’m walking in to!”, she says looking scared, but you just laugh in response.

“Just be a kid,” Percy says, and you feel your throat close up at the words. Luke had said the same words to you before everything went downhill, and now you were going home alone.

“Guys!”, you hear Grover yell and you all cheer as he arrives.

“Did you get it?”, you quickly ask, and he carefully removes his jacket to show a beautiful green flower.

“I can officially start to search for Pan!”, he says, and you all congratulate him.

“Everyone always looked on the ground and land, but no one has ever searched the oceans so I think I will start there,” Grover says, and you can’t help but feel excited for your friend.

“If you ever need help, I know some people under there,” Percy says with a cheeky smile, and you roll your eyes at his words.

“Before we go, we need to promise each other that we will all be here together again next year, the four of us,” Percy says and the three of you nod in response.

“We will all be there,” you say and Percy smiles softly at you.

“Come here!”, Grover yells before bringing the four of you into a hug and you close your eyes as you wrap your arms around your friends, holding them as tight as you can before you have to let them go.

“Enjoy New York and Disneyworld Annie and Grover good luck for your quest!”, you tell them and the two of them look excited at the prospect before Annabeth takes you by the hand, a bit further away.

“Good luck with your mother, if you ever need me, you know I’m always available,” she says, and you nod in agreement.

“Don’t worry, enjoy the time you have with your father! I’ll be just fine, I won’t be the only one in New York now,” you tell her, and she has a dangerous smile on her lips as her eyes light up in mischief.

“That’s right, you will be able to spend all seventh grade with Percy,” you hit her in the arm at her wink and you can’t help but blush as she laughs.

“Nothing will happen,” you tell her, and she looks unimpressed before humming, an unimpressed look in her eyes.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” she says before joining the others making you shake your head.

“See you all in a few months?”, you ask and Grover and Annabeth nod before leaving Percy and you next to Thalia’s tree.

“Are you sure you will be alright going alone?”, Percy asks, and you look at him with a fond smile.

“I will be just fine, go and find your mother, I’m sure she is waiting for you,” you tell him and there is a hopeful smile that appears on his lips.

“Tell me when you get there? I’ll keep you updated when we come back,” he says, and a blush appears on your cheeks at the words, but you nod quickly.

“I’ll tell you, better not leave me waiting too long Jackson or I’ll go to Coney Island without you,” you tell him in a teasing tone, but you know that you would wait for him.

“Don’t worry I’ll be there,” he says with a voice that leaves no doubt in your mind and before you can tell him goodbye, he brings you into a hug, holding you close in his arms.

“See you in a week?”, he whispers, and you nod against his shoulder, holding him tight even if you knew you were going to see him soon.

“See you in a week, don’t be stranger,” you tell him before leaving his embrace and taking your luggage.

Your mother is in the kitchen, the smell of cookies surrounds the living room, and you take a moment to take it all in. This would be the first of many times you would be coming back alone to your apartment.

There are countless boxes filled with cookies, as if she had to feed two teenagers and not one. Because she would never know that her son would never come back, too far for her to ever reach again.

“Hi mom,” you whisper, trying not to let the tear fall as memories of Luke and you come back.

“Oh, my darling, you are back!”, she says, her eyes lightening up in excitement as she brings you into a tender hug.

“So sad that your brother couldn’t leave camp, but he always did love to be there,” she says, and you hold her close, letting her believe that the tears that are falling down your cheeks are from seeing her again after such a long time. Not because you had lied to her about your brother staying at camp for the year, and the fact that she wouldn’t be seeing him again.

“Why don’t you go take a shower and then we can eat something and talk! You have already grown so much!”, she says as she pushes you into the bathroom while talking about everything that you will be talking about later on.

The week passes by with her stuffing you with cookies and stories about her friends and family and before you know it a curly haired boy has come back to New York.

“You can give him some cookies!”, your mother says before shoving you a large box of cookies.

“Are these blue?”, you ask her, unable not to feel surprised as you see them, and she has a knowing smile on her lips.

“You told me he liked blue food, and I need to make a good impression on the boy who captured your heart,” she says with a teasing smile, and you groan at the words, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“I am leaving!”, you tell her, and you can hear her laughter ringing thought the hallway, making you smile.

Percy is standing there, leaning against the car in front of the building.

“Please tell me you aren’t driving that car,” you say in teasing tone and Percy rolls his eyes at the words.

“Verry funny, but no we are going with the metro if that is alright with you?”, he says, and you nod in agreement your smile wide as you take in what changed in the last few days. He had gotten even taller if that was possible.

“What are those?”, he asks, and you look at the box in your hands before giving the cookies to him.

“My mother made them for you, apparently you are her new favorite,” you tell him, and a shy smile appears on his lips as he opens the box and sees the cookies.

“They are blue?”, he says, looking surprised at the sight of them and you feel shy as he looks at you.

“Seems like she listened to me when I was talking about you and the rest of the group of course,” you tell him, feeling embarrassed at what he could be thinking right now.

“Of course,” he says with a smirk, and you feel slightly confused before he takes your hand in his, making you look up at him.

“Is this alright?”, he asks, his shy eyes looking into yours.

“Completely alright,” you tell him, making a wide smile appear on his lips.

“Common we need to take the metro to get to our date!”, Percy says, and it takes you a moment to process the words.

“Wait, date?”

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson angst #luke castellan

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