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nanamiskentos · 8 months ago

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(JUST MEET ME AT THE) APT! — gojo satoru minors dni. art by chitrartum on twt.

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (a) and let the show begin !

prologue. → your ex, that sleazy and no-good scumbag won't stop posting tacky mirror selfies on instagram, arm around his fellow cheater-in-crime. so, christmas eve finds you morose in a dodgy dive bar. why not tumble back into bed with that random, gorgeous stranger you just met?

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. never drive, no matter how little alcohol is in you folks!!! never!!! making out, creampiè, hooking up with a stranger, ovèrstimulation, mildly rough sèx, gojo won't tell you what his job is

word count. 9.4k! song inspiration. apt — rosé & bruno mars

a/n. reader lowkey a hater, i love vanilla vodka eggnog </3 i said i was gonna post on 02/12 and i kept my word, literally rushed to finished this before my clinical exams in the cardiac ward 😭😭😭😭😭😭 hope y'all stay healthy. your future surgeons are writing gojo smut on tumblr.com

mp3. don't you want me like i want you, baby? don't you need me like i need you now? sleep tomorrow, but tonight, go crazy. all you gotta do is meet me at the apartment (아파트) !

you think your friends would kill you if they knew this was how you were spending christmas eve. not at some glittering holiday party, nor tucked away in a snow-dusted cabin. but here, holed up in a dimly lit bar with an atmosphere so questionable it should come with a warning label alongside a health and safety audit.

the place had charm, if your definition of charm included scuffed floors, a jukebox stuck on 'last christmas' and a string of blinking lights that looked like they'd been thrown at the walls rather than hung. still, you'd swiped a couple of minty candy canes from a jar near the door, which felt like a win.

your phone sat resolutely off in your bag. self-preservation. no instagram, and no tacky mirror selfies from your scumbag ex with the same smirk he'd worn a month ago when you caught him cheating. with someone who had always been 'just a friend, babe!' you weren't keen to let that ruin the rest of the night, though if you were being honest, you had already let it ruin a good chunk of the month.

"another christmas vodka...sour, please," you squint at the messy chalkboard above the bar, where the christmas specials were scrawled in what would barely pass for handwriting.

the bartender gave a single, surly nod. he looked as though he'd rather be anywhere but here, preferably somewhere free of customers nursing post-breakup bitterness like a fine wine.

and so, you found yourself staring at the tall glass now sitting in front of you, studying the rosemary sprig that swayed lazily in the translucent red liquid. a few cranberries bobbed among the ice cubes like they were on some tiny festive raft.

"woah, that one's way too strong for me."

the voice interrupts your private session of wallowing. you turn your head, slowly, to take in the culprit. he-who-hath-disturbed-the-peace. a man sitting close enough to be annoying, but not close enough to invade your personal space.

it takes you a moment to process the stranger, mostly because of the brain freeze from your ill-timed gulp.

"i mean, it's not bad," you shrug, hoping to sound neutral enough that he leaves you be. but then because you just can't leave well enough alone, you gesture at the specials board, "better than...that, at least."

you jab a finger at the chalk-scrawled abomination: vanilla & peppermint vodka eggnog.

the man frowns, a sharp but somehow charming movement that's overshadowed by the dim lights, "hey, i ordered that one."

you blink like a startled bovine, before breaking into a laugh, "my bad. i'm sure it's really fuckin' delicious."

the stranger chuckles too, a soft and low sound that seems more genuine that it has any right to be, "i hope so. otherwise, this is gonna be a long night."

the man finally shifts, casting aside the dim shadows that lay over him, into the blinking string lights. broad shoulders framed by a dark, tailored jacket that hugs him like a second skin. his hair, startlingly white, was pushed back by — wait, was that a blindfold?

you stare longer than you should have, trying to piece the odd sight together. a cosplay? a k-pop idol wannabe, hoping to get recruited for the next bts tour? perhaps, he was blind, hard of sight? you start to open your mouth, wondering how to phrase the intrusive and awkward questions, but he beats you to it.

"i can see you just fine, y'know," he says, his tone laced with amusement.

your cheeks burn at the realisation that he's caught you gawking shamelessly. so you quickly turn back to your drink, suddenly very interested in the cranberries floating in the glass.

the bartender returns, sliding the stranger's drink onto the counter with an audible clink. it was the most obnoxious cocktail that you'd ever seen. a martini glass filled with frothy, pale liquid and crowned with a cinnamon stick that jutted out like the mast of some ridiculous holiday ship.

you watch, mildly horrified, as the man picks up the glass and downs half of it in one confident gulp. he sets it down a satisfied sigh, and a smack of his glossy lips, and you wrinkle your nose involuntarily at the sight.

"i swear it's good," he says with a laugh, catching your expression. his grin is wide, playful. and you find yourself smiling back despite your sour, gloomy mood.

he has a nice smile, you note. not forced nor smug, but genuine. framed by pale pink lips that curl up in an easy, natural way. it was strange though, to look at someone without seeing their eyes.

"i'm gojo, by the way," he offers, his voice smooth and lightly amused once more, as if he'd caught you studying him again.

your gaze drops to his hands, long and slender, tracing the rim of the martini glass. something about the way they move — elegant and deliberate, hold your attention a moment too long for propriety. you quickly snap your focus back to his face, "what brings you here, gojo?"

gojo shrugs, and you can almost imagine him rolling his eyes beneath the blindfold, though you doubt his ire is directed at you, "work, i guess. or maybe i just got bored of going to work."

"they're working you hard, yeah?" you ask, trying for sympathy. employers loved squeezing their workers dry during the holidays. your own boss was proof enough of that, running the office like a sweatshop for santa's unpaid elf labour.

"something like that," gojo says with a scoff, the corners of his mouth quirking up again, "what about you? what brings you here? it's christmas eve, isn't it?"

you sigh, the weight of gauche embarrassment suddenly pressing down as the words spill out before you can stop them, "my ex-boyfriend cheated on me."

gojo's lip curls, the kind of expression that balances perfectly between pity and disgust, "that sucks," he offers. profound and wise, you have to agree as he continues, "you jus' find out or something?"

the question makes you cheeks heat, and you fiddle with the edge of your drink, "no, i've known all month." you gesture vaguely towards your purse, where your phone sat like an unsealed pandora's box, "but he posted...on instagram. and stuff. i'm still, y'know, getting over it."

gojo makes a thoughtful clicking noise with his tongue, "ah, see, i don't do social media. but that sounds rough."

you let out a weak huff, "yeah, well...now i just feel like a loser. my friends told me to go out and have fun, and here i am..." you trail off, downing the rest of your cranberry vodka in a single, decisive gulp. the sting hits your throat, sharp and sour, and you grimace at the burn.

gojo frowns slightly, leaning in just enough that you can hear how his voice softens, "i don't think you're a loser." the sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, pulling your gaze back to him, "it's fair to wallow."

his words hang in the air, and you find yourself smiling, albeit thinly, "that's...really nice of you to say."

gojo hums thoughtfully, "i meant it, i promise. but i can't exactly say i've been there, never really dated anyone."

you blink, openly gaping at the man, "really? you're joking."

it was hard to wrap your head around that. even with the odd blindfold, everything about him screamed 'pounce-worthy'. the broad frame, the charming smile, the striking white hair that looked like it belonged in a kérastase commercial.

gojo laughs at your incredulous expression, "same old work and stuff," he explains with a casual shrug. then his grin fades, tone shifting just enough for you wonder why that feels as though the clouds have covered the light of the moon outside, "always got in the way."

"at least you never had to deal with a breakup," you offer, trying to find some weak, silver lining.

gojo frowns, his pale complexion now tinged with a faint red flush that even the dim bar lights couldn't disguise. was he really that much of a lightweight, or was the eggnog's amaretto content deceptively boozy?

he sighs dramatically, "a friend once left me outside a kfc in shinjuku. then he became a murderer and a cult leader. that felt like a breakup."

"huh," you murmur, staring at the man with a mixture of amusement and faint alarm, wondering if you'd seen any cult leaders on the evening news lately. no, nothing save for the occasional incorrect weather report, a friendly good-looking priest running some scam association, and news reports about an octopus that could predict the lottery, "that's - well, okay..."

you couldn't quite tell if he was joking or not, but gojo seems to shake himself free of the odd reverie. he's running his hand through his shock of white hair, and his grin has returned, slower and a touch softer, "still, your ex must've been crazy. letting go of a pretty girl like you?"

the words land with surprising weight, considering they come from a stranger in a sleazy bar, but it leaves you momentarily stunned. you can feel a blush rising to your cheeks, your heart doing an embarrassing little flip before you manage to get a grip on yourself.

"wow," you laugh, feigning composure as you sip the last remnants of your drink, "smooth."

gojo's smile is wider now, "hah, i call it like i see it," and his lips now curl upwards as he leans in, "and i'm serious. if i had someone like you..."

you laugh again, but this time it's far more unsteady. you wonder if the cranberry vodka is playing with your head, "big words for someone who's never dated. should i be impressed, gojo?"

gojo's chuckle is a deep sound that vibrates in his chest, "i know a good thing when i see it. you don' need to date to know what you want. and i think i want you."

your stomach does a little flip, and you feel all rationality being pounded out of you just from staring at his unfairly gorgeous hands rest on sturdy thighs, "you do flattery well, i'll give you that."

"oh, i don't know about that," gojo says, fiddling with the stem of his glass, "but what'dya say we get out of here? how about my place?"

you blink slowly, and you're aware that your heart (and...nether regions) have already composed an answer before your mind has, "what if you're a serial killer? you're not about to silent night, deadly night me, are you? you haven't killed someone have you?"

for a moment, the man stills but then gojo leans back, "smart girl. asking the right questions. but no, i can at least promise that i'm not a criminal."

you hesitate just for a beat, the words lingering on your tongue, before you let out a breath and shrug, "fine. where's your place?"

"azabu," gojo replies without missing a beat, his tone smooth, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

you gape once more, blinking as you try to process the information. azabu? as in tokyo's ritziest neighbourhood, where a one-bedroom apartment could cost you more than most people's yearly salary? the kind of place where the floors are made of marble, and everyone's shoes are more expensive than your entire wardrobe?

gojo, ridiculously handsome despite looking like a circus runaway, too charming for his own good, and not the type you'd expect to find in a cheap downtown dive bar. definitely not on a christmas eve, at least.

for a split second, you wonder how a man like him even ended up in a place like this. maybe it's some kind of self-imposed penance. or he likes to keep things low-key when he's pretending not to be rich? maybe he's looking to cosplay a succession character?

whatever it is, it's working. not only does gojo have a face carved from marble, now you've got a solid ticket into seeing what a neighbourhood for the top one percent really looks like beyond it's wealthy exterior. maybe, you'll bring back a souvenir.

you wonder whether there's a group of small emotions standing around inside your head, inside-out style. glaring at you as if you're incapable of making good and rational decisions.

well fuck that, you gather yourself and shrug off the small wave of nerves, and loop your purse strap around your finger, "alright," you say, "let's get out of here then."

you don't miss at how the adam apple of gojo's throat bobs for a second, before he downs the rest of his drink in one go, "let's get outta here then."

you follow him out into the cold, your breath fogging in front of you as you try to focus, but the man is tall, like ridiculously so. but when you reach the curb, he turns to face you again, a frown marring his face.

"so, i have a small confession."

i changed my mind and i find you repulsive.

i was paid by your ex to do this, and now i've done enough to get my money.

i'm a serial killer.

you don't know which possibility is worse, "huh, a confession? what is it now?"

gojo chuckles, lifting a hand to the back of his neck, as though he's about to spill a dark secret into the night air, "i don't have a car."

"you've got to me kidding me. how'd you even get down here?"

gojo shrugs, a casual and almost lazy movement. and you feel your gaze lingering on his shoulders. broad, impossibly wide, the dark jacket hugging him in all the right places, like it was tailor-made to showcase just how much he filled it out.

"someone dropped me off. ages ago," like it was the most normal and rational explanation in the world.

your own laugh is short, a little disbelieving, but you pull your silver keys from your purse, "well, i guess i'll have to drive then. but what would you have done if i hadn't been here to save the day?"

gojo steps to the side, opening your own car door for you with a small flourish and exaggerated bow that makes your heart jolt again, "probably teleport back home. maybe fly, since the skies look clear."

what a weird guy. hot, but weird. he seems like the type to dress up with a fake beard and show up as gandalf at the next lord of the rings fan convention.

in the driver's seat beside him, you catch yourself staring too long. your gaze slipping over a model's jawline, the white of his hair being held up by the blindfold. even his vaguely expensive scent is disorienting, pleasant like pine and blackcurrant. but it's also hard not to be amused when he's furrowing teeth into plush pink lips out of concentration, pressing an address into your cracked gps screen.

well, merry christmas to you.

gojo's place is well...how do you say this? gorgeous doesn't quite begin to cover it. he leads you into the building with the ease of someone who knows every inch of it, tossing a casual smile over his shoulder as he swipes a key card to unlock the private elevator, "i tend to move around a bit. or stay in different places. keeps life exciting, don't you think?"

you step into the elevator alongside him, the polished mirrors reflecting the soft glow of gold accents and sleek, modern lines. his hand hovers over the control panel before he presses the button for the top floor. of course, it's the penthouse.

"you move around a lot?" you ask, arching an eyebrow, "what, like a restless billionaire or something?"

gojo smiles, leaning casually against the steel as the elevator begins its smooth ascent, "now you're exaggerating."

the elevator finally dings, and gojo steps aside, offering an exaggerated bow as he gestures for you to exit, "after you, my fair maiden."

you almost scoff at the ridiculousness of it, but there's something so endearing and charming about how he pulls it off, especially when paired with the unfair symmetry of his face.

floor to ceiling windows dominate the far wall, revealing a jaw dropping panorama of tokyo's skyline. the city stretches out in a glittering sea of lights, with the tokyo tower glowing a golden exclamation point against the velvet night sky. the interior is just as impressive, with polished wood floors that gleam in the warm light and a glass dining table that sits beneath a sculptural chandelier. that same faint scent of blackberry and pine lingers in the air, heady almost.

behind you, gojo strolls with an easy and languid grace, tossing his jacket onto an artisan leather armchair. beneath it, his sky blue dress shirt clings just right and rolled up to reveal forearms faintly dusted with pale hair. you think you've momentarily forgotten how words work, and you avert your gaze quickly. though not before catching the faint smile on his lips.

"not bad, huh?" gojo says, heading to the open kitchen as though he's unaware of the effect he's having on a rational and sensible mind such as yourself, "it's no dive bar, but i'll do."

you shake your head, bewildered. trying to process how someone you met in a dingy bar could live somewhere that looks like it belongs in architectural digest. even down to the odd, ancient looking pieces that scatter the wide living room. weird looking artifacts of some sort. maybe he's also a collector? go figure.

"not bad?" you repeat, incredulous, "gojo, this place is incredible."

the man laughs, opening a sleek fridge to grab a bottle of water, "i have good taste," he says with mock modesty, his tone teasing as long fingers twist off the cap, "and a thing for gorgeous views. though, between you and me, i'm not great with heights. ironic, i suppose. paying a fortune for a view i'd rather not get too close to."

he waves a hand vaguely towards the windows, the blindfold still firmly in place.

"so, what's the deal? did you win the lottery, or inherit a fortune. or are you some kinda secret agent who moonlights as a barfly?"

gojo lifts the bottle in mock toast, "let's just say i'm very good at what i do."

you arch a brow, crossing your arms and ignoring the warm flush creeping up your neck, "and what exactly is that?"

"oh, you know. standard stuff. international intrigue, thwarting evil creatures. i even saved a kitten from a tree the other day."

"right, because nothing screams the next member of the avengers like eggnog in a seedy bar."

gojo leans casually against the counter, "even the avengers need a holiday drink now and then. don't knock it." but then he gestures towards the sleek couch, "wait, you can make yourself comfortable, y'know. i'd hate for my guest to think i'm a terrible host."

"terrible host? no, but a mystery man —"

before you can finish, your foot catches on something hard, and you stumble forward with an undignified yelp. gojo reacts instantly, how does he move that fast, and his arm is shooting out to steady you. but glorious gravity and magnificent momentum has other plans.

both of you crash onto the couch, and you find yourself sprawled unceremoniously across his lap. gojo's laugh rumbles low in his chest, and you can feel the warmth of it underneath your palms as you steady yourself, "well, that's one way to get comfortable," he murmurs, voice teasing as his large hand lingers lightly on the curve of your waist.

you prop yourself up slightly, cheeks burning, and glance back at the offending object. your brows knit together when you spot what looks suspiciously like a katana gleaming under the soft light.

"did i just trip on a — hey, what the hell is that?"

gojo interrupts, smoothly extending a long leg to nudge that suspicious object under the nearby coffee table before you can finish, "nothing important," he says breezily, the motion so quick you almost think you imagined it.

his focus shifts back to you, almost guilty, but his fingers are pressing divots into the fabric of your top, "now, where were we? hi."

you blink, caught off guard by how strange it is to feel the searing heat of someone's gaze underneath a blindfold, impossibly intent, "hi yourself," you manage.

for a moment, neither you nor the gorgeous man under you move, and the world feels strangely airless.

but your fingers twitch against the fine linen of his shirt. and before you can second-guess yourself, you reach your hand up to the edge of the silk fabric over his face and you ask, "can i take this off?"

gojo tilts his head, like it's a genuine consideration and you catch the faintest flicker of hesitation. it's fleeting, replaced by a crooked smile as he nods, "go ahead, sweetheart."

your hand rests lightly on the silk, hesitant for only a second before tracing its way to the back of his head. your fingers brush through impossibly soft strands of white hair, and his breath hitches when you find the knot tied neatly to the base of his skull.

you wonder what manner of man gojo is, letting himself be stitched undone by a stranger. but with care, you undo the knot, working deftly and clutching the fabric as you pull the blindfold away.

the blindfold slips free, and for a moment, you're certain you've forgotten how to breathe. bright, piercing blue eyes. framed by thick white lashes blink up at you. the intensity of such an unearthly gaze is softened by something more vulnerable, almost shy. nervous even.

"wow," you murmur without thinking, the word spilling out as gojo's expression shifts, an unguarded openness replacing the playful smirk that you've seen all evening.

your earlier assessment echoes in your mind: k-pop reject wannabe. the recent memory now feels like quite the injustice, a careless slight against a face that defies easy description. each detail of his face is striking, as if some divine hand had taken special care to sculpt him from the fabric of time and space itself.

gojo seems to sense your analysis, and you're sure that he's parted his lips to speak, but whatever he was about to say falters. that faint flush, pale-red like vermillion watercolour bleeding across a canvas, blooms across his cheeks. gojo's hazy gaze flickers for a second, and it sends a thrill through you. he's affected by this, by you.

it's hard to resist the slow smile that curves your lips, light and playful if only to mask the way your own heart is racing, "are you seriously shy now, gojo?"

gojo's expression shifts again almost immediately, as if that subtle invulnerability has been replaced by something sharper, almost indignant. he sits up a little straighter, the movement making you acutely aware of how the hard planes of his body feel beneath you.

"shy? no," gojo says, his voice steady but edged with some need to defend his honour, "i just...don't usually do this. that's all."

there's a sincerity in his words, an almost begrudging honesty that takes you by surprise. you tilt your head, as your murmur, "i don't either."

before you can second-guess yourself, you tilt your head down. pressing your lips to gojo's in a featherlight kiss. his taste is intoxicating, honey and sweet grapes mingling with a hint of that ridiculous vanilla drink from earlier. you pull back almost as quickly as you leaned in, testing the waters.

but your breath catches when you see that the blue of his eyes has deepened, darkened. and his lips, pink-blush and slightly parted, form a quiet and stunned oh!

"cool," gojo manages, his voice rougher than you expected, and you bite back a laugh as you watch him swallow hard.

"huh, cool?" you echo, your amusement bubbling over, "that's it? that's all you've got?"

gojo's grip on your waist tightens, and his hands are now splayed over your spine. anchoring you to him, as his mouth curves into something sly, though his flushed cheeks betray his composure, "compliments to the chef?"

you shift slightly, pressing more of your weight firmly into his lap. though not yet close enough to situate yourself over his groin, delighting in the way gojo's blush spreads down his neck, staining his skin a shade reminiscent of ripe berries swirling in cream.

you can feel gojo's attention as much as you can see it, how his own gaze lingers, deliberate and unhurried. taking you like a masterpiece that deserves more than a cursory glance. the hand that had been steady on your back shifts, his fingers threading through your hair. he watches as the strands slip and fall beneath his touch.

"thought you said you wanted me, gojo," you tease, though you're certain your voice is betraying the way your pulse is doing its best impression of the macarena in your jugular, "are y'gonna do something or not?"

gojo's gaze snaps back to you, a flicker of something far more intense passing through those impossibly blue eyes. full of hunger, need even. the hand in your hair slides away, only to settle at your jaw. it's warm and steady, his thumb brushing slightly over the plush of your bottom lip.

"i do want you," gojo says, his voice low and steady and maddeningly genuine, "want you to kiss me again. and again. as many times as you want until i forget my own name."

"gojo —"

"satoru," he interrupts, his voice cracking slightly, stripped of any previous swagger. it's unsteady and raw, affected in a way that excites you. sends a dark heat curling low between your thighs, "you can call me that."

"satoru," you repeat softly, letting the syllables fall from your lips, unfurling in the most hazy way.

something within the man shifts. his hand tightens on your waist, dragging you closer in a way that punches the air from your lungs. right over -

oh. the thick, curve of his erection straining against slacks that probably cost more than your monthly salary. it's deliberate, almost desparate at how the invisible thread snapped inside him. unravelled the careful composure he's been clinging to until now.

"go on," gojo murmurs, his voice dark with need, "kiss me again, please."

you lean closer, eyes flickering to his lips, and your pulse roaring in your ears, "who would i be to deny you any wish, satoru?" the words come out more reverent that you'd expected, as if your entire world has been tilted off its axis.

and then you kiss him, hard. desparate. as if his lips are your birthright, a homeland to claim. and gojo's kissing you back, carrying a sweetness that seems both foreign and familiar. in an instant, the weight of another man, a dreary haze in your past, vanishes. gojo is suddenly everything you didn't know you needed, vibrant and electrifying.

"let me know if it's too much," gojo breathes against your lips, his voice shaky as if he's trying to tether himself to the earth. but your kiss deepens, frantic and unrestrained. his mouth moves against yours with a hunger that sends sparks down your spine, and you suddenly realise you quite like the taste of vanilla when it's dripping from his open kisses.

you pull away, for every human needs air. but the sight before you has you clenching your thighs desperately around the bulge where you sit atop. gojo's gaze is heavy, full of that desparate longing that makes your chest ache. his lips are swollen, a soft cherry hue from your kisses. and strands of white hair fall over his blue eyes.

"look what you've done to me, fuck. miss you already," gojo murmurs, and before you can respond, he surges forward, hands pressing against your face with the intensity of a storm. one hand reaches to find the nape of your neck, letting you surrender to the heat of this touch.

you crave more, so much more from gojo, who's taking you in like you're his last breath, his final indulgance. it's as if he's found a new devotion in you, ready to worship you at the alter of your false godhood. but before you can part your mouth to tell him exactly what you and where, gojo's hands are already sneaking under your top, brushing against the trembling skin of your torso.

his teeth are biting down on your lip, leaving you dizzy. and gasping, and so damp in your panties as the fabric of your top is peeled away, and you're left shivering, fighting against the cold of the december air. you find yourself pressing harder into the warmth of his chest, letting the swell of your chest press flat against him.

"shoulda' turned the heat on before we came in," gojo murmurs, breathless as his lips hover a mere centimetre away from yours, "got nothin' to worry about, sweetheart. i'll keep you warm."

"didn't t-think i'd spend christmas eve like this," you gasp, your head lolling to the side as gojo presses open-mouthed kisses to the soft arc of your neck, sensitive even to the cool air.

"no?" gojo's reply is breathy, almost frantic as if he's fumbling in the heat of the moment and has little grasp over the words tumbling out of his mouth, "neither did i. but this? b-better than any fuckin' mission they could've sent me on."

you cock your head, feeling the heat of his clothed cock underneath your thighs, "m-mission, huh? what are you talking about - mmph!" but the rest of the question never escapes your lips for it's swallowed up by another one of gojo's candied kisses.

his rough hands work deftly, finding the clasp of your bra with ease. a pretty crimson thing, almost sheer as it caught the light. and in the centre, a tiny satin bow sat like the final touch on a perfectly wrapped gift. you had only worn it half-heartedly earlier in the morning, some forced christmas cheer for your dreary day ahead.

the look on gojo's face was anything but composed, staring at your cupped tits like you'd knocked the air out of him and his chest rose and fall as though he were remembering how to breathe. in a single fluid motion, your bra is unhooked. the faint metallic click barely audible over the pounding in your chest and he's tossing it aside with a casual flick, his focus entirely on you.

you find yourself mesmerised by his eyes, those swirling pools of blue that seem to have stolen fragments of the sky itself, clouds brushed into cerulean depths with strokes of syrupy smoothness. they're breathtaking, but the thought shatters as gojo's canines graze the flesh of your breasts, a sharp and teasing nip that pulls a gasp from your lips. leaves you rocking sharply against his erection, making him throw his head back, ragged.

the playful string blooms into a flush of heat, and gojo's at it again, his mouth working to leave faint red marks in its wake. you squeal, half in surprise and half in helpless laughter (and entirely in a lusty haze) but gojo only pulls back enough to murmur, "what? can't help myself."

but then he peers at you abruptly, his lips parted as he catches his breath, "wait. do you wanna —?" and gojo tilts his snowy hair towards the shadowy doorway that leads out of the living room, the implication clear even through his panting.

you nod, breathless, "yeah, jus' help me up."

without hesitation, a strong arm slides around your waist, and before you know it, you're being swept into a semi-bridal carry, and your head is resting against the fabric of his dress shirt. not a bad feeling, one you could get used to.

at the doorway, gojo lets out a low 'shit!', nudging the door open with his foot. the faint sound of clattering follows as he kicks something out of the way. you glance down from your entirely too comfortable vantage point, spotting a smattering of cheap tinsel, all glittering in metallic silver and gold, tangled with round baubles that glisten faintly under the dim light.

some have little smears of glue, and uneven glitter patches, as if crafted by unsteady hands, but with earnest effort.

"you big on christmas or something?" you tease, delighting in how the tips of his ears light up like nose of a famous reindeer.

gojo freezes for a moment, almost sheepish as he clears a path, clearly trying to look as macho as possible as he gingerly pushes aside a string of green lights, "made those for my students," he mutters, "thought they'd like them in the classroom tomorrow."

your laugh grows louder, and gojo's brows furrow, his tone growing defensive, "it's a nice surprise for the classroom!"

"i'm not making fun of you!" you insist, leaning up to press a gentle, soothing kiss to the hollow of his collarbone, "it's sweet. i think it's really nice, actually. wait, you're a teacher?"

gojo's mouth quirks up in a faint smile, "something like that," he says cryptically, finally clearing a decent and hazard-free path into a sleek, and clean bedroom. it's all modern space, all clean lines in shades of cream and white, and navy.

gojo sets you down gently, and the plush fabric cradles you as your back lands on fresh linen. and for a quiet, tender moment, you're both caught in the stillness. gojo kneels at the edge of the bed, his hands resting lightly on each of your thighs as if he's anchoring himself there.

his gaze is steady, content, maybe even adoring in a way that feels too intimate for someone who you barely know. there's a warmth in his expression, like he's savouring the sight of you, searching for something — and he's found exactly what he's hoped for.

almost without thinking, you lift a hand, cupping the sides of his face. his skin is warm beneath your palm, soft with the faintest hint of pale stubble that seems to fade into his skin. the moment your hands makes contact, gojo leans into your touch instinctively, his white lashes fluttering closed.

"hey, 'toru," you murmur softly, "y'still with me?"

gojo's eyes snap open at the sound of that, sharp and bright, as if the nickname itself has sparked a challenge in him. a low and almost frustrated sound escapes from the back of his throat, and he presses a feather-light kiss to the inside of your knee.

you don't miss at how his teeth sink into his bottom lip again, worrying and working the plush flesh like he's trying to steady himself. spreading your weeping thighs aside, as his gaze is fixed on something. intense, unwavering. the sheer focus of it making heat creep up your neck.

at how he must be staring hungrily at damp, sheer red fabric that clings to the outline of your cunt. at how it must shimmer almost translucently now, the sticky slick of your arousal enhancing the gloss, making your panties glisten under the light.

you're feeling an unfamiliar kind of shy under the weight of his attention, at how he must see how the fabric clings closely to your puffy, swollen folds — the delicate weave exposing the shape of your taut pussy, practically weeping for his touch.

you needn't have asked, for gojo was already diving into deliver.

he's gliding his index finger over your dripping pussy, letting the tangy syrup sink onto his fingers, leaning in to press a sweet, almost innocent kiss to your clothed cunt, "she seems desperate for me, don'tcha think, heh?"

the sound of the fabric ripping is sharp and wet, a squelching and almost fleshy tone, a sound that's both soft and sharp to the blood rushing between your ears. a strained tear of your beautiful panties, leaving cool air to gently leave a kiss of its own upon your cunt.

you gape at him, a bit too stunned to find coherent words, "hey, what the f-fuck! those were like super expensive!"

gojo rolls his eyes, the kind of look that has a bit too much attitude for someone who's practically begging on his knees for a taste of you, "don't get all huffy on me, sweetheart. 'm gonna buy you more, is tha' alright?"

"i'll r-remember that, satoru," you murmur, giving a sharp tug at his white strands, "you gon' have to give me your number now."

gojo shudders, the muscles in his back rippling underneath his tight shirt, "was already gonna," and he's back to pressing soft, kitten licks to your now exposed folds, small circles over your throbbing clit.

you buck your canting hips closer to the heat of his mouth, to where the pink tip of his teasing tongue peeks out of a pretty mouth, "satoru, c'mon. can't you just, fuck—"

you sharply cry out as he presses his mouth forward, a sudden surge of heat jolting through you. burying himself deep, his nose brushing against the sweet, syrup that coats your pussy, and the rhythmic, wet movements of his tongue send shivers through your entire being.

"mhm, jus' as sweet as you look, baby," gojo gasps, swirling and flicking his tongue, teasing you with every deliberate patter of the muscle near your winking entrance. so messy, slick and you're not sure where he ends and you begin as it all glides together carnally.

gojo seems languidly tipsy, just from munching through the gloss of your cunt, far more intoxicated from your taste than any cheap christmas liquor. he alternates between pushing his tongue past the ring of your tight walls, and then wrapping his lips around the searing pulse of your clit, leaving your hips shaking and dragging over his mouth, smearing yourself over his chin.

you're fisting delicate white locks with fierce urgency, and he hisses and then chuckles into your pussy, "tch! ease up there for me, yeah? jus' move your hips like you were doin' before," and you comply, angling yourself better so he can flatten his tongue against your folds, jaw grinding deeper into you "hah, yeah, just like that."

"taking good care of you though, aren't i? wait, say it. say that 'm making you feel good," and he's bullying a long finger into your gummy walls, clingy and sopping, "say 'm making you feel better than a-anyone ever has," and you just mewl as your arousal must surely be dripping down his forearms, staining the cuffed sleeve of his shirt as he takes your sweet juices down his throat.

there's stars beginning to twinkle at the edge of your vision, and you know you must be close, for your heart is practically dancing a heavy beat against your ribcage, and you suddenly push his mouth away, watching as a clear strand of spit or your slick forms a taut bridge between his mouth and your folds.

"w-wait, satoru, s-stop."

gojo's head lifts, eyes blinking as if coming out of a faze. but then, like a switch, something sharp flickers behind his gaze and concern floods in. his thin brows furrow slightly, glossy lips parting as he reaches out, as if to steady your hips, "you okay, sweetheart? what's wrong?"

your heart stutters, pounding so loudly you're sure he can hear it. you try to steady your breathing, but the tremour in your fingertips betray you as they gently slide through your hair, the silky strands tangling around your hand.

"nothin' wrong, 'toru. but i was gonna cum," and gojo's face, still flushed and soft with arousal, splits into a shy, amused grin.

"hah, i know. that's what i wanted," he's close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath hitting your aching cunt, but you shake your head again.

"feels unfair, wanna see you too. wan' you to cum in me,"

you watch, almost in awe, as a low and guttural sound escapes gojo satoru, raw and unfiltered. gojo runs his tongue over his lips, his eyes dark with something dangerously close to hunger.

"you sure?" and his voice is hoarse, unsure despite his roaming gaze. you nod, your hands digging into his shoulder, tugging at the crisp fabric of his dress shirt, desparate to feel the warmth of his skin underneath.

his shaky laugh of disbelief only makes you more aroused, whining for him to hurry up, and before you know it, he's standing up, towering over your boneless form on the sheets.

"how could i deny you anything?" he murmurs, echoing your earlier words. gojo's hands reach for the hem, the fabric shifting as he pulls it over his head, revealing a milky expanse of toned skin, smooth and taut over a set of abs that should easily land him on a gq list.

his waist is slender, defined in all the right places, and the soft taper of muscles make your breath catch. but the soft white trail of hair that reaches under his waistband makes your cunt clench.

"y'seem happy with the view, don'tcha?" gojo's voice is teasing, the cocky smirk tugging at his lips, but you can hear the impatience threading his tone now too. he's not as in control as he lets on, his hands now making quick work of his belt, leaving your mouth dry when he finally pushes his black boxers down.

you should have known that his cock would be as pretty and unfairly gorgeous as the rest of him. he's circling the strawberry-red tip, glowering and throbbing, right over your gathered slick, coating it and smacking the mushroom head in a thwack! over your poor clit, leaving you jolting as he laughs and leans down to kiss you sweetly once more.

"jus' look at me, yeah?" his drawl is slow, lazy and so ruined. at the first inch of his throbbing cock that slips through your walls, he looks utterly undone. a mess of sharp edges softened by something far more primal and raw.

gojo's head tips back, exposing the elegant line of his neck as the moonlight cascades over you, "hey, sweetheart, 's not too much, yeah?"

hazy blue eyes bore into you, and for a brief moment, in the time it takes for the lightning to strike the earth, you swear that his eyes glow. almost radiant and jewel-like, with cerulean fractals shimmering as if they're emitting life of their own. perhaps its simply the electrifying stretch of inches that's rendering you to hallucinate, whining as your nails find purchase in milky skin and rippling shoulders.

"i-it's big, 'toru," you pant, feeling him almost shudder at the clipped name again, as he grips the base of his cock to bully the final inch in, sighing in contentment as he finally bottoms out, with a wet pop!

gojo looks feral like this, heaving a breath through his mouth as though the air is being taken from him from every second he spends stretching you out on his fat shaft, "hah, 'm glad, i'm so glad i met you tonight, sweetheart. fuck, fuck, y'feel i-incredible."

he's pushing your thighs further back, running his hands over the plush skin, leaving bruising red prints that won't disappear tomorrow as you moan, wanton into his open mouth, letting gojo run his lips down your jaw and into the curve of your neck.

you're practically now folded in half under the bulk of his weight, feeling stars collide in absolutely astrophysical ways, impaled further on the long and thick length of his cock, "in so deep, s-satoru."

seems that gojo is a man of little mercy, for he seems only all the more invigorated by your squeals, drawing his torso back to watch the hypnotic smack of skin on skin, of your slick and creamy froth creating fresh rings over his pistoning cock.

he's entirely out of control, as you feel your body go limp from the pleasure shooting through every nerve and pore.

depraved.

you don't realise you might have let that slip out loud, so dizzy in your cockdrunk haze because gojo's suddenly ramming himself roughly in you, as though he was desperate to have his cock kiss your cervix, to feel for every divot and nook of your cunt's walls.

"d-depraved, hah. people call me, fuck, p-people call me a lotta things, sweetheart," and gojo's so good with it, letting your pussy have not even one moment to take reprieve, having you feel each vein and bulge of his cock, "but depraved is n-new."

the hand that was dancing over your thighs flies to your swollen, aching clit. practically glistening for his attention, and his attention you did receive, "right, t-there! 'toru, mmph!" you're trying to splay your legs wider, giving his quick hand more room to swirl tight circles where you needed him most.

your double-vision gaze lingers on the ripple of his muscles, the way his arms flex and shift as he seems intent on angling you just right for him to drill his cock over and over, at some freakish and feverish pace, "y'so good, gojo," you purr, and your nails curl against his arms, pressing just enough to leave tiny crescents in his skin, the faint dampness of his exertion clinging to him, "s-so strong!"

something shifts. the glow is back, electric blue flooding his eyes like crackling storm clouds. it's almost unnerving, this unearthly brightness, as if he's some ancient god wrapped up in human skin, and you've just stumbled into a divine revelation.

gojo stills for the briefest moment, the thick head of his cock snagging on your puffy folds as he draws himself almost entirely out. the absence of motion makes you whine, an airy and impatient sound escaping your throat. that hesitation feels like a tease, like a string that's been pulled so taut, before he finally dives forward, capturing your mouth in a messy, heated kiss. sloppy in its disregard.

"s-so strong, huh?" gojo's voice is rough, shaky, as though he's trying to centre himself but your tight pussy holds him in hypnotic sway, "y-you think so? think i'm the strongest?" his lips brush yours as he speaks, and there's something almost boyish and charming in the way that he seems to be fishing for a compliment, despite the low heat in his voice.

you pull back from his wet, spit-stringed lips. just enough to wrap your hands around his neck and push him closer, deeper into you as he gutturally groans, "if i s-say yes, are y'gonna keep showing off?"

gojo's laugh is short, breathless, "y-yeah, wanna see?"

he makes quick work of pushing himself back into you, pumping himself so far in that your slick must be painting and sopping the white hairs at the base of his cock almost translucent, "o-oh my god, 'toru, fuck, oh my god!" the stretch has your head spinning, as if the skies are parting above you, and you're melodramatically left to see the light of divinity as gojo bucks his hips harshly into you. as if he's too far gone, needs to prove himself to you with a good fuck.

"you h-have to say it," gojo stutters, his words tumbling out so quickly, like rough gravel, "say it, fuck, c'mon. say i'm — say i'm the s-strongest. you have to, hnghh, god. please, jus' agree, okay?" his voice is cracking, that cocky veneer entirely shattered under the weight of his rambling desperation as he practically rummages through your sopping insides, "y-you feel it right, i mean, you can feel me — i mean."

a high whine escapes your throat as his pace becomes almost olympian, and you wonder faintly how you haven't managed to sprain a muscle or break a bone yet, how he hasn't managed to shatter something with the sheer pace and force of how gojo satoru fucks, "hah, 'toru. i'm —"

"close? g-god, i hope so. 's what i want. nothing, like n-nothing feels better than this right?" his words are falling out of him in a messy, pussydrunk rush, his eyes flickering between your face and down to where your pussy lips are bulged around his shaft, "so good, right? the b-best thing you've ever —"

you truthfully don't even hear the rest of his words, blood absolutely roaring and rearing in your ears, your ribcage as you feel the tight coil snap, letting out short, slurred snaps of his name when you cum. as he doesn't quite let up on smacking his hips right against your ass, "s-satoru, 's getting s-sensitive, oh, fuck. fuck!"

he's suddenly whining, with pleading and erratic blue eyes chasing after you, sloppily pushing down so he can gasp and pant into your open mouth, before capturing you in a heart-stopping kiss as he finally gets milked dry by your pulsing and fluttering walls. in awe of how creamy white is practically leaking out of you, dripping a stringy trail over the flesh of your thighs.

you're agape at how utterly fucked he looks right now, though you're certain you do not look much better as fat tears prick at your eyes, streaming past your ears from the overstimulation, "s-still fillin' me up, 'toru. god, do ya always cum this much?"

at first, you don't even get a response from gojo who just sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck, almost as if he's trying not to cry out, but then he's back to circling your clit with a rough hand, "makin' me sound like some kinda whore, s-sweetheart. 'n and i told you. don't do this m-much."

and now he's slowing down, pleasurably painful bucks of his hips keeping glossy, white seed in you. ensuring that it coats your entire entrance, "an' it's not my fault that she," and here, he gives your clit a small smack! grinning like a madman, "n-not my fault that she's so, hah, addictive."

each tight circle of his hand on your clit sends you hurtling into yet another orgasm, one that has you begging gojo for mercy, repreive, for more. an orgasm that has him whispering the sweetest nothings into your ear, "d-don't worry, gotcha like this. gonna let you rest n-now, jus' gotta relax for me."

by the time he's slipping his still somehow hard cock out of your creamed cunt, you can feel exhaustions heavy and caring hands caress you, rendering your body limp and boneless. your eyes heavy and hazy, but you can feel a soft ghost of gojo's kiss over the shell of your ear, "h-hope y'still here in the morning, sweetheart. don't leave, yeah?"

the morning sunlight filters through the blinds, and despite the ache in your limbs that cricks your bones, you drag yourself out of bed. christmas day, after all. you've thrown on gojo's dress shirt from last night, snug enough to flutter around your hips, but oversized enough around the shoulders to let you drown in it.

it's cozy though, and even the chilly air feels refreshing against the warmth clinging to you. gojo is still sound asleep, and you had smiled at how he took little puffs of air as he was passed flat out in bed. but you always like to be up early on christmas, and there's something about the holiday that makes you feel like you need to earn the right to nap later.

you wander around the bedroom for a bit, stretching your legs as your muscle protest in earnest. eventually, you decide to make your way to that kitchen. breakfast, right.

it seems like a good idea, especially considering the last thing in your stomach was a questionably sour vodka. so you pull open the fridge, expecting something befitting of this apartment. perhaps a slab of wagyu beef, a tin of caviar, a thick block of pistachio-cream dubai chocolate. you'd even settle for sushi.

instead, you're left staring back at a stack of candy canes, some strawberry yoghurt, a carton of milk and some fast food wrappers. despite your protesting stomach, a deep amusement washes over you. it doesn't surprise you that gojo would have a fridge stocked with food you'd find at a child's birthday party and a greasy diner.

still, breakfast is in order and because you can't help it, you pull out a candy cane and start unwrapping it. you're just about take a bite when you hear the unmistakable pad of footsteps. you turn, face to face with someone who would clearly not be out of place on a vogue covershoot.

gojo hasn't tossed on a shirt, and the sunlight filters over his chiselled physique before your sight is stolen by the loose sheet wrapped around his waist. delicious. you try to snap your gaze back to his face, but it's hard to not track your gaze down his torso, like a cat eyeing a particularly irresistible sunbeam.

"good morning to you too," gojo says, a grin curling his lips, "what are you doing?" his voice is still thick with interrupted sleep, laced with a morning rasp that forces you to ground yourself and stop falling prey to the god, eros and his machinations.

"breakfast, 'm starving."

"don't bother," gojo says, shaking his head, "we can go somewhere nice for breakfast. like real, actual food. don't think you want half-eaten yoghurt."

you nod enthusiastically, mind turning back to the peeling seal of the strawberry yoghurt with a spoon sticking out of it. but then, something else catches your mind's attention. a little curiosity piques, one that you cannot help but ask him.

"wait," you begin, snapping your teeth around the saccharine mint of the candy cane, "y'know what's crazy. like, i swear your eyes glowed last night. not even in a silly compliment way, but like electricity. i thought i was like, losing it.'

you expect gojo to brush it off with a wink, or maybe laugh it off like you're just teasing him. but instead, the man's face shifts, that cocky smile faltering for the briefest moment. it's gone so fast that you think you almost imagined it. but why does he look...almost guilty?

before you can process that, you realised you've leaned yourself over the counter, and in your absent-mindedness, your elbow presses a button on the answering machine. a small beep, and suddenly, a voice blares through the room,

"hey, gojo-sensei!" comes a high-pitched, distinctly teenage voice, an excited boy who sounds a little crackly over the speaker, "so, we found this grade one curse yesterday...and uh, we totally got rid of it. we were gon' call you, but you didn't pick up. but i almost got my arm torn off. wait, no! that sounds dramatic, i got shoko to look at it anyway. so what we're all wondering right is that we don't have to hand in any homework now right? as like reparations?"

the voice crackles off, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. you stand there, absolutely dumbstruck, staring at the answering machine like it's about to burst into flames or start singing christmas carols.

gojo, meanwhile, has the most awkward look on his face, clearly caught between embarrassment...and what? panic, amusement?

"satoru, what the fuck?"

he looks at you for a moment, but instead of speaking, he lets out a long and exasperated sigh before pulling out one of the counter chairs, "you're gonna want to sit down for this one, sweetheart."

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ghostickle · 1 year ago

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Seeing Falling in reverse tonight >:)

#the disturbed take back ur life tour #ghost rambles #I bought these tickets on impulse in November

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spidybaby · 1 month ago

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do you take f1 requests? if u do, please do a Lando x reader where reader is his personal assistant and he likes her but hides it by being mean until one day he sees her talking with other driver during an event and decided to confess and u can choose the way it ends pls

Personal Assistant

Summary: Lando hides his feelings behind cruel words until he is forced to let the truth out.

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Hi, I want to say that I don't know much about F1, so I did my best with this request. If I got something wrong, sorry. Hope you like it 🥺💛

"You are late, again." Lando says, looking at you from the sofa. "Do you have my breakfast?"

You nod, still out of breath. You show him the paper bag, smiling at him, moving quickly to the kitchen to serve the food in a plate.

You have to be careful, he has this way of eating his food that if anything mixes, it will cause a disturbance on his day.

You place the plate and drink in front of him, moving back to get the bread and fork. You notice he's reading something on social media.

"Did you have any chance of reading the schedule I made for the trip?" You ask him, handing him the fork. "I talked to your manager, and he says that it's good."

He looks at you, not answering. Instead, he goes for a bite of the food. You hold the urge to roll your eyes.

"It needs salt." He says, waving at you.

You nod, walking to the kitchen to get the salt. You take a deep breath before walking back, already stressed, and it was only 8 am.

"Carlos called, he wants to know if you want to go to dinner with him when you land in Barcelona."

He nods, turning the tv on. "Did you book Magui's tickets?"

"About that." You whisper, looking at your phone. "They only have tourist class on the day she wants to come."

"Well, then fix it." He shrugs. "Or it's on you to tell her that she can't come because you don't know how to do your job."

"I-" you wanted to reply, but you shut your mouth. Knowing that this was something he wanted.

"You what?" He smirks, looking at you.

"I'll do my best to find her a better seat." You say, wanting to punch him. "Do you need anything else? I need to pick your clothes from the dry clean."

He shakes his head, continuing with eating and watching tv. You turn back to the door, grabbing your bag and the ticket you left on the counter, next to your bag.

"Actually, Y/n." He calls before you close the door.

You quickly turned, getting your head inside so he could see you. "Yes?"

"Can you help me look for my green hoodie?"

You nod, walking back inside to look for his hoodie. You walk inside the room, noticing the mess.

"Fuck." You whisper, knowing that you need to schedule for the cleaning services to come when hes out. "The green one you say?" You ask from the room.

"And the baby blue one."

You frown, walking to the closet. You take one look at the closet and feel the anger inside. It was a disaster.

You just organized it per Lando's request to do so. You organize it just like he likes it, hoodies on one side, jackets in other, pants and joggers separated.

You sigh, not being able to complain to what he did to your organization. You grab the piles of hoodie, remembering to check with him if he wanted to get rid of anything.

You spend a good twenty minutes looking through the piles of clothes, you search the dirty laundry basket, nothing.

You then think that he did have a green one, but you can't point to the baby blue one. Maybe it was a new one he got recently, and you can't remember.

You take another fifteen minutes re checking the entire closet, searching the suitcases he has that sometimes have unpacked clothes.

When you turn to find him looking at you. "You scared me." You whisper, hand on your chest.

He smirks, walking closer to you. "Any luck?"

"Actually, can you tell me what that baby blue hoodie looks like? Does it have a logo?" You ask, looking around to see if you can spot it.

He doesn't let the smirk go. "Actually, I forgot that I was meaning for you to get me a hoodie like that. I don't have it yet."

You look back at the mess of clothes you spent more than half an hour looking at. You turn back at him, noticing he finds funny how frustrated you look at his actions.

You sigh and nod. "Any brand?" You ask, tired of his games.

He shakes his head no. "Surprise me." He smiles. "And you can take the three hoodies from Balenciaga. I don't like them anymore."

You pick them from the floor. "This one has the tags on." You say checking it. "Are you sure you don't want to keep one?"

He held his hands out for you to give it to him, and you handed him the hoodie. "Do you like it?" He asks, turning the hoodie to where you are.

You nod, grabbing the sleeves. "It's a good hoodie."

He hands it back to you. "Keep it if you want it." He smiles.

"Really?" You smile, grabbing the hoodie closer. "Thank you, Lando."

"Yeah, now can you pick my clothes? They have my shirt that I want to use tonight."

You nod, walking to where your things are. "Do you want anything else before I come back?" You ask before walking outside of the apartment.

You left the hoodie on the sofa, not having enough space to bring it to you because of Lando's things in the car.

He doesn't answer, so you pick your things and walk outside of his apartment. You think about the hoodie he just gave you. It was the F1 Balenciaga hoodie you liked. You know they gave it to Lando as a PR, but you were thankful for the little gift.

You know that this costs more than you could afford, so it was something you were happy with.

You feel your phone vibrate, Lando's name on the screen. He was asking you to get him half a dozen of those protein cookies you get him on the bakery on the other side of the city.

You pout, knowing that this day was going to be crazy with all the requests he's been having lately. If it was not him asking for breakfast, it was him asking for something that you could only get on the other side of the city.

And if it was not that, it was him making you go crazy with requests he knows are not going to have a successful end for you.

You can't complain, you have a job.

You pick his clothes, finding the green hoodie he wanted in the pile of clean clothes. You then moved to the other side of the city to get the cookies.

You try reaching him over text to see if he wanted a special flavor or the normal chocolate chip cookies.

You order a dozen, six of the flavors he likes the most and six of the normal ones. You have them packed on different containers for him not to have an excuse not to eat it.

You are back with the clothes and the cookies. Walking inside of the apartment, careful not to drop anything.

You grab your phone, answering to Mark about some scheduling that needed to be added. You confirm with him some other things.

You feel someone walking inside of the room, but you were busy writing something on your notebook to see who it was.

"Lando, I didn't know if the cookies you wanted were the normal ones, so I got a variety of them."

You hear a giggle, turning your head up and finding Magui. "Sorry if I scared you."

You blink a few times, surprised that she's even there. "Oh, hi." You whisper. You haven't even had time to look at the plane tickets, now knowing it was not necessary. "You are here! I was going to message you about the flight."

"I wanted to come and see him before the GP."

"That's amazing." You smile at her.

You can't lie, you feel awkward around her. You don't know if you can be totally cool with her or if it's going to be a gf of the boss kind of situation.

"Lando is taking a shower. He told me to tell you that if you wanted to go to Mark's, he's fine with you arranging the schedule."

You nod, giving her a small nod. "I'll get going then. Do you need anything before I leave?"

"Not at all, don't worry about us. We are fine."

You nod, walking to the sofa and grabbing the hoodie. You say a quiet goodbye to her and leave.

You close your car door, finally being able to rest for more than five minutes. You've been running around for him during the last few days.

You drive over Mark's house, grabbing some things that Lando needs to drop. You have to organize the agenda of Lando.

"Hey Mark, got you some coffee." You say, giving him a quick hug.

"Where's Lando?" He asks, accepting the coffee. "He needs to be here. What happened?"

"Maguie happened." You smile. "He was showering when I left his apartment, so he might show up."

You walk with him to his office, opening your agenda on the desk. You grab your highlighters and your pens.

"Okay, let's get to the good stuff." He jokes, making you laugh.

You planned the agenda around the events that he officially has with the Team and also the ones you know he has outside of the clock.

"When we land, we need to get him to fitting."

"He has lunch with Carlos." You say, marking the time as busy. "He confirmed this morning, and it's planned already by Carlos."

"Okay, now what about after." He asks, checking the times. "Anything during that time?"

"Not that I know, so fittings it is."

You two work on the perfect schedule that you know Lando is somehow going to fuck up. He always does and then blames you for not being able to accommodate him.

"Now, let's pray this kid follows the plan." Mark sigh.

🍊🍊🍊

You feel someone pulling your hoodie cap, making you turn and take your airpod out.

Lando was standing behind your seat, smirking at your sleepy eyes. "Do you have any gum?" He asks, knowing he only does this to bother you.

You nod, grabbing your purse and searching for the gum. You always carry gum because his ears tend to get clogged on the air, so you always buy some gum before getting into the plane.

You hand him a pack of gum, he takes a seat next to you. You place your airpod back on, turning back again to the window to get back to your nap.

You feel him getting your airpod out of your ear, you turn to him and finding him placing it on his ear.

"Justin Bieber?" He asks, listening to the music you are playing on your phone. "Thought you were a one direction fan."

You nodded, eyes closing as you fight the urge to go back to sleep. Just when you thought that Lando was leaving you alone, he opens his mouth.

"I'm bored, talk to me."

"Talk to Mark." You whisper, craving the sleep.

"But he's sleeping." He pouts, poking your side. "Plus, you are my assistant, talk to me."

You take a deep breath, squinting your eyes as hard as you can. "Fine, what do you want to talk about?" You ask, seating normally.

"Actually." He smiles at you, handing you the airpod. "I think I'll go back to my seat." He says, getting up and walking to the back.

You blink a few times, the sleep is gone, the anger is in. You know he does this just to bother you.

You try to get back to sleep, but you can't. You spend the rest of the flight irritated at the laugh of Lando in the back.

When the plane finally landed in Spain, you were the last one to get out of the plane. You know that Lando was going to be eager to get to the hotel and then meet with Carlos.

"Can you walk slower?"

"Is that a request?" You say, walking very slow. "Is this slow enough?" You smile.

"Hurry, Carlos is waiting for me." He frowns, closing the window of the car.

You hand your bag to the chauffeur, thanking him and getting on the ban with Mark and Lando.

"Did you check if my parents were at the hotel already?"

"Yes, Magui and them are at the hotel." You say, opening the agenda. "You have to be on fittings after lunch." You say, reading the schedule. "And a meeting with the team at the hotel once we are back from fittings."

"Wait, no." He turns to you. "Who planned this?"

"Not you, obviously." Mark chuckles. "We did, and it's final."

Lando turns, mad at something he can't do anymore. You take your phone, checking social media as a way to distract yourself.

When you get to the hotel, you grab Lando's luggage and walk inside with it. Mark and him were talking as you placed the luggage on the hotel car.

"I'll go to the meeting room. Please, make sure he's on time for fittings." Mark says to you.

You follow Lando to the elevator, getting inside with him. "Do you want me to call you a car to go see Carlos?"

He doesn't answer, normal thing when he's mad at something or at you. You take that as a yes, searching for the car service you hired before.

"The car will be here in twenty minutes. You can fresh up or whatever before that." You inform, thanking the hotel guy as he leaves the luggage in the room. "You parents are with Magui. They are having lunch with Piastri's parents."

You stay there for a moment, waiting to see if he was going to ask you for something. He was scrolling on his phone, ignoring your presence.

"I'll go to my room. The car is picking you up in fifteen." You say, grabbing your bag. "If you need anything, text me."

You walk to your room, throwing your bag on the floor and walking straight to bed. You needed a good nap before continuing with the day.

Sadly for you, just like your nap on the plane, your sleep was interrupted by the door. You groan, turning to the side and ignoring it.

Thirty seconds later, you hear the knocks again. You open your eyes, angry, getting up to see who dares to interrupt your sleep.

"What?" You say, opening the door. You find Lando on the other side, smiling at you. "Oh, it's you."

"I texted you five times." He says, showing you the phone. "Let's go, the car is already here."

"What car?" You ask, confused because of the sleepiness.

"The car that's supposed to take us to Carlos. Now let's go." He says, walking away. "Y/n, move it."

"Do I have to go?" You whisper, letting a groan out.

You shake your head, running to the bed to grab your phone and handbag. You ran quickly to the elevator. He's holding the door for you.

" < text me if you need anything > " He mocks your voice. "Then you leave me ignored and abandoned."

"I never leave you abandoned." You say to him.

You notice how his hair is messy, you know he hates to have pictures with messy hair.

"Come here." You say, stretching your arm to him. You comb his hair with your fingers, eyes focused on his curls. "Done, that looks much better."

He looks at you, checking if his hair is better than before. He then shakes his head a little, going back to reality.

"Why did you schedule the fittings after lunch?" He asks, frowning. "That was stupid."

"It would've been easier if you were there." You say, frowning too. "You told Magui to tell me to deal with it."

"But fittings after eating?" He chuckles. "That's dumb, admit it."

"Yes, Lando, it was." You say, rolling your eyes.

"You see how easy is it when we agree?" He asks, poking your side. Something you hate when he does. "Who do you think is going to win?"

He asks this, expecting you to say his name. He always asks you as if you are a fortune teller and your words are going to be written on rock.

"Hopefully, Piastri." You say, getting out of the elevator as soon as the doors open.

Lando stays there, mouth forming a perfect "o" You try to hide your smirk, not wanting to get another reaction out of him.

mclaren

❤️ 91,7mil 💬91 ↗️ 201

mclaren 6️⃣ Races + 6️⃣ Podiums = a successful triple 😍

#Mclaren #F1

"Y/n, hi!"

"Hi, Lily." You smile, giving her a hug.

Lily is Oscar's girlfriend, you have a nice relationship since you see each other a lot during the GP, during practice, during press days.

"Busy day?" She asks, walking over Lando's space.

"Yeah, I've been running around these past few days." You giggle. "How are you?"

"Amazing, happy to be here. Love Canada!"

"Yes, I hope our boys win." You smile at her.

"Yes, that would be so amazing." She smiles, thinking about it. "Hey, tell me something. I know gossiping is bad, but what happened to Magui and Lando? I'm asking because Oscar told me about the fight in front of the team"

You think if it was the right thing to talk about what happened to them. On one side, Lando is your boss, and talking about him like that was bad. However, they did make it everybody's problem when they did it in front of everybody.

"Don't kiss and tell, but Magui slapped Lando during practice because Lando told her he liked someone else."

"So they are done?" She asks, whispering.

You nod, making sure the boys aren't coming. "She said goodbye to me before leaving, telling me that Lando was an asshole who lied to her." You whisper.

"Oh." Lily says.

You try to hide the smile you want to let out. You can't lie that Magui leaving gives you a sense of happiness.

You know that Lando would never think about you in that way, and you know you can't think about that because he is your boss.

However, thinking is free, and your mind sometimes betrays you, showing your deepest thoughts.

You two continued talking for a while, changing the topics. They guys were on a team meeting, so you were able to talk with her.

Both Lando and Oscar came back to their areas. Lily said goodbye to you, going to Oscar's. You watch Lando as he walks inside his area.

"Where's Mark?" He asks, you can tell he is mad. "I need to talk to him."

"He said he had a call to make, want me to go look for him?" You ask, he was trying to get out of a jacket.

You stand up, helping him with the jacket. You can tell he's mad about something, so you try to make it easier for him.

It's never a good thing for him to be angry before driving. You always try for him to relax and to mentally prepare.

"I picked your favorite snack." You say, pointing at the snacks and drinks. "And your parents called. They are ready to see you drive."

"Can you believe they couldn't come?" He asks, pouting. "I wanted them here."

"I know, but I'm sure they will be there for the next one. I'll start with their transportation as soon as tonight."

You help him with his suit, making sure it's neat. You grab his hand, taking the watch off of his wrist.

Lando can't lie when he says that he loves it when you take care of him. It makes him feel special, it makes him feel like you care about him.

"Are you nervous?" You ask, noticing that he is tense.

He scuffs, "No, what kind of stupid question is that?"

You would love to understand the shifts he has. Why does he suddenly go from a friendly boss to an asshole who's mean to you.

"Sorry." You whisper, placing his watch next to the snacks table. "I'll go get Mark."

You walk outside to look for Mark, he was probably lying talking to Oscar's manager. You find him talking to a group of people.

You don't want to interrupt, so you just wait for him to finish. You were in such a good mood, but as always, Lando does something or acts up in a way that makes you feel uneasy.

"Hey, kiddo." Mark says, smiling at you.

"Hey, Lando is looking for you." You smile at him.

He thanked you, walking inside the teams placed to meet with Lando. You waited outside, watching everything from the distance.

You can't lie that this job has been the best. You have to travel to places you never thought you would ever visit.

You travel in a private jet, eat at the best places, and sleep at the nicest hotels. You can say it's a dream job.

Sometimes you do wonder if you are good at what you are doing, with Lando calling you out for doing things he doesn't want to do.

It gets to you, making you feel like you fail, but Mark always makes sure to let you know that Lando is like that and that he's joking.

You check the time, the race was going to start in a little bit, so you walk back inside to see everything from his station.

"Ready?" Oscar asks you as you walk back.

You nod, giving him a high five. "Good luck." You say to him.

You see Lando walking to the entrance, he was trying to zip up his suit. You can tell he's nervous by the way his hands aren't coordinating.

You grab his shoulders, making him stop. You take his hands away, pulling the zipper up and patting his chest.

"Wish me luck." He whispers.

"You don't need it." You whisper back. Moving to the side so he could walk to the entrance.

He looks back at you before going out. You wait for him to do it to get to his station. Laying on the couch for a moment.

You spend the first half of the race inside. Hearing everybody being happy outside. You decide to join them.

You walk to where the team is, joining them. You stand next to Mark, who's smiling because Lando and Oscar are on the first five positions.

Mark got you a pair of head of headsets. You love watching the action going on, it makes your heart go faster.

You love how the team works fast to get them through pitz in no time, how they give him instructions, how they support each other.

"Last five, team!"

You notice that both Piastri and Lando were on the top five. You hope that they get to a double podium.

You feel your heart stop when Lando and Piastri collapsed together. Making Lando have a DNF, he wasn't able to finish the race.

"I'm okay, guys." He says out of breath over the radio. "I'm sorry, it was my fault."

Your heart breaks for him, the sound of his voice is making you feel like crying. You wait for him to get there to check from afar if he is okay.

Once he is out of the reach of the camera, you see how he kicks the wall. Closing his asignated area.

Mark walks over to where he is. They have a person from the medical team check him for any injury and ask him if he feels some type of way.

Oscar landed the fourth place, it was something for the team. You take the headsets, walking over to where Lando and Mark are.

You stand outside, not wanting to disturb him. You waited for a moment, deciding to walk away. You don't want to be seen like a bother.

You walk back to the front room, Lily was there. She asks how is Lando, you shrug and tell her that you were giving space.

Mark texted you, letting you know that Lando and him were leaving back to the hotel. To take care of whatever is left back and that he was going to send the car back to get you after they drop them off.

You text him that you will take care of that, walking back to collect everything that Lando left behind.

You wait inside, not feeling like answering how Lando was from the team. You don't even know how he is, so you don't feel like lying on top of everything.

When the car was there, you walked silently to the exit. Getting inside and texting Mark that you are on your way to the Hotel.

He asked you to give the things to Lando and force him to eat something. He needed to leave to see some sponsors, and he wanted you to take care of that for him.

When you get to the hotel, you thank the driver. You decide to leave Lando alone for a little bit more, maybe he is talking to his parents, maybe he is still mad or angry, maybe he wants to be alone.

You decide to walk to your room and take a shower. You were going to order your food at the same time as his, so you check if he actually eats.

You take your time, dry your hair, and apply your creams. You change into some leggings and an oversized t-shirt.

You take the things, grabbing the room key. You over to the other side of the floor. You were three rooms away from his room when you notice Charles Leclerc, who was staying on the same floor, walking over.

"Hey, I know you." He smiles, stopping when he notices you. "You work with McLaren."

You nod, not feeling like correcting your work to him. "You work for Ferrari." You joke.

He let out a big laugh, grabbing his belly. You frown for a moment, not finding your joke to be that funny.

"Did you enjoy the race?" He asks, making more conversation. "I mean, one of your drivers crashed and didnt finished, but apart from that."

"Yeah, I enjoyed your fifth and sixth place." You smile.

"Fuck, you are feisty." He jokes, smiling at you. "Like every McLaren girl."

"Well, nice to meet you, mister Leclerc." You say, wanting to get to Lando.

"Same thing here, miss..." He pauses, waiting for you to say your name.

"Y/n, that's my name."

"Well, miss Y/n. Nice to meet you." He smirks.

You walk away from him, not making much distance before hearing Charles talk to you again.

"If you ever get tired of working for McLaren." He says, making you turn to him. "Find me at the Ferrari spot, I'll get you a better spot on our team."

You smile, nodding. "Thanks, I'll have it in mind."

You wait for him to walk away to turn back to find Lando's room. You find him crossed armed, looking at your with a frown.

"Hey, how are you?" You say, walking over to him. "I have your watch, but are you okay?"

"What were you talking about with Leclerc?" He asks, not caring about the questions you asked him.

"Oh, he was just saying hi." You say, rolling your eyes a little.

"Really?" He scuffs. "I heard him offering you a job."

You frown, confused about why this is important. "I mean, yeah, but I'm sure it was him teasing."

You hand him his watch, looking at him and at his angry expression. You don't understand where that's coming from.

He turns back to his room, leaving the door open for you to get inside. You close the door, noticing the little disaster he made.

"How are you?" You ask again.

He doesn't answer, he is searching for something on his luggage. The frown on his face is making you worry.

"Lando, are you okay?"

"You care now?" He scuffs.

You frown. "What do you mean? I've always cared."

"Sure, fucking sure." He laughs. "That's why you didnt even come see me after the fucking crash."

"I gave you space, Lando." You explain, not wanting for him to feel like you don't care.

You care more than he thinks, you always cared for him. You feel hurt that he thinks you don't care how he is doing.

"I wanted to give you space." You repeat.

"I waited for you, I needed you there." He says, elevating his tone of voice. "I didn't leave earlier because I was waiting for you to come see me."

"You called me dumb moments before the race. Do you really think I was going to go see you when your feelings were raised?"

"I was joking."

"Were you?" You ask, scuffing. "You always do that, Lando. If it's not because I messed up the order of your food, if it's because I pack the wrong shirt, if it's because I don't have your water cold enough."

He covered his face, yelling into his hands. You shake your head at him, not believing that he was mad at something he created.

"That's why you were talking with Charles?" He asks, thinking about it.

"What?"

"He was talking about you going to Ferrari to work with him." He says, walking closer to you. "Are you leaving me?"

"Lando, no." You say, grabbing his arm. "I don't want to work for Charles or Ferrari. I'm with you."

"Are you?"

You swear you could hear your heart breaking. You worked very hard for him, you have given more than you should just for him to notice your effort.

You don't feel like proving a point that it was obvious he didn't understand. You let go of him, backing a few steps away from him.

"If you are not happy with my job or with how I do something for you. Take this as my two week notice."

You turn to the door, feeling his hand grabbing your arm. "What do you mean your two week notice?"

"Let go of me." You say, looking at him. "Lando, let go."

He let go of your arm, giving you a chance to open the door. You want to get away from him, feeling too hurt with his words.

"I'll go with you to Austria, but after that I'll go back to London, alone." You say to him.

You walk back to your room, you slam the door shut. You try not to cry, taking deep breaths. You walk over to your bed, thinking about what just happened.

"Y/n, open the door." You hear Lando's voice. "We need to talk."

You stay quiet, wanting him to leave. He doesn't give up, keeping the knocking on the door.

"I'm not leaving, open the door."

You bring your knees to your chest, hugging them as you see the door. You hold the urge to open the door and throw something at him.

After a few minutes, Lando stopped with the knockin. You throw yourself in bed, closing your eyes.

mclaren

❤️110 mil 💬916 ↗️338

mclaren An unfortunate end to today's GP, but we'll continue to push to get the most out of every opportunity 👊🏻

#Mclaren #F1

"Miss Y/n, are you ready to see the race?"

You turn to the voice, finding Charles. You smile at him, noticing the dog on his arms.

"Who is this little guy?" You ask, getting closer. "Hi, baby."

"He is Leo, my and my girlfriend's dog." He smiles, giving the dog a kiss on the head. "He's a nice boy, just like his daddy."

You nod, understanding the undertone. "I bet he is." You say, stopping with petting the dog. "And to answer your question, I am ready for the race."

"Nice, nice." He nods, looking at you up and down. "Did you think about my offer?" He asks, eyebrows moving up and down.

You sigh. "I did, but I'm loyal to McLaren. They have been my team since two years ago, and I can't picture myself in another team."

He nods, smirking. "You know where to find me if you change your mind, eh." He says, pointing at your while walking away. "Best of luck to your guys, but I'm beating them."

You wave at him, giggling at how funny that statement sounds. He has this aura of confidence that now you understand why makes other drivers feel intimidated.

You turn, finding Lando looking at you. Oscar was talking to him about something. Obviously, he did not care about what Piastri was saying, eyes fixed on you.

You walk back to Lando's space. You grab your phone, checking on Mark to see if he needed something.

He was with some sponsors, taking them to the palcos that McLaren had available for sponsors and other important people they invite there.

"Y/n," Lando calls, walking to where you are. "We need to talk."

You don't meet his eyes, the sound of your keyboard is filling the room.

"Tell me, do you need something before the race?" You ask him.

"I want us to fix things." He says, grabbing your arms. "What were you talking with Charles about?"

You were about to answer, but you noticed his parents walking towards you. The smile on their faces is enough for you to feel happy.

"Oh, hi." You say to them, moving out of Lando's hold. "So happy to see that you are here."

His mom hugs you, saying hi to you. His father does the same, thanking you for making possible for them to come.

"I got your favorite snacks, Mister Norris." You point at the table. You have different snacks that you know his father and mother love. "And your favorite drink, Miss Norris."

"Isn't she an angel, Lando?" His dad asks his son.

"I'll give you some space." You say, walking out of the room and closing the door.

You walk to where the rest of the team is preparing. Saying hi to some of the pitz guys, they make conversation with you.

You feel sad that you are going to say goodbye to all of this. It's been the best times of your life, being friends to the team, finding a small family in all of them.

You feel disassociated, not finding real how quick the time flies. You notice that Lando's parents are next to you because his mom places her hand on your shoulder.

"Lando is calling for you."

You nod, thanking her and walking to his space. You say hi to Oscar on the way, he was texting and ready to go.

"You needed me?" You ask, opening the door.

"Help me with my suit." He says, looking at himself in the mirror. You nod, walking inside of the room. "Close the door."

You do, getting closer to him as you fix the sleeves and fix the necklace he has on. He cant keep his eyes away from you.

You feel his hands on your waist, you try to act normal. You grab his wrists, trying to pull his hands away from you.

"Lando, stop this." You say, looking at him. "Let's not do this, you have to go. The race is about to start."

"Promise me you are not leaving right after the race." He says, hands gripping your skin, not to hurt you but to keep you steady. "Please."

"You have to go." You repeat. "Let's go, Oscar is waiting."

"Oscar can fuck off, I need you to promise me that you are not leaving me."

"Lando, let go of me."

"Please." He begs, eyes like a puppy.

You sigh, knowing that there was no way for you to make him leave without him pulling a fight. "I promise."

He looks into your eyes, nodding and letting you go. He zips his suit, looking at you for the last time, walking outside of the room.

"Y/n." Lily calls. "You coming?" She asks, smiling at you.

You nod, walking with her to where both Oscar's and Lando's parents are. They all have a pair of headsets. Lando's mother offered you a pair, you take it with a smile.

The race started, you aren't going to lie, you are too distracted to care about the first half of the race. Your mind is somewhere else, replaying memories of the different races you have been to.

"I'll be right back." You say to Lando's parents.

You think very hard about breaking the promise. You think very hard about leaving and going back to the hotel.

But you can't seem to do it, you can't send the text to Lando. The text you have written and deleted multiple times, trying to make it perfect.

Your plan was for you to leave before the race ended. That way, you have time to pick your stuff and go to the airport.

Mark was very sad about the news, he thought it was because you feel like the F1 rhythm wasn't for you anymore.

You hear the commotion outside, making you frown. You block your phone, walking outside to see what was going on.

You then noticed the screen, Lando was first, and Oscar was second, Charles was running behind them.

You place the headsets back on. You can't lie that all the ideas of leaving are now out of your head. You are excited for the last 10.

You grab Lily's hand, eyes glued to the screen. Lily was shaking with exciment, moving to get some anxiety out of her system.

You can't help but jump as Lando scores the first place on the Podium, and just two seconds later, Piastri is scoring second place.

You don't care who comes after them, you turn and hug his mom. Happy about him, he needed this win after what happened in Canada.

You see how the team runs to where they are. Happy about the first and second place in twenty five years.

You stayed behind them all, watching as Lando, Oscar, and Charles threw champagne at each other.

You chuckle at Lando throwing more champagne than normal to Charles. You can hear his laughter even when you are not near him.

You grab your phone, deleting the big text you had prepared for him. You write a simple thank you. Sending it him before grabbing your bag and walking to the parking lot.

You call an Uber, cursing at the fact that it was going to take a while because of the big traffic outside of the circuit.

Your phone on your pockey feels like it's burning. You want to look at your messages to see if he read the text or if maybe he's too busy celebrating this big moment.

Your thoughts were answered when you hear your name being called. You turn to find Lando running to you.

"What are you doing?" You ask. He was drenched in champagne and out of breath. "Lando, you need to be celebrating with your family. Go back."

"You promised."

You stay quiet, not knowing how to answer. You just look away. "I stayed, but I need to leave now."

"Why?"

"Because I'm tired, Lando. It hurts to see you not trusting me even after all this time. I would've never chosen Charles over you, you know that."

"I was stupid, a fucking child act. I admit that, but when I saw you with him in the corridor and then today. My blood boiled."

"Why do you care that much?" You ask, turning your whole body to him. "Does Charles really bothers you that much?"

"He doesn't bother me." He scuffs.

"Then tell me, what was the reason for your reaction?"

"I was jealous."

You pause for a moment, processing what he just spat at you.

"Jealous of what?"

"Of him being so close to you, offering you to leave with him. I was jealous when I saw you laughing with him at the hotel, when I saw you today with him and his dog."

"You were jealous of Charles trying to steal your personal assistant?"

"No, fuck sake." He says, passing a hand to his hair. "I was jealous of losing you, and by that, I don't mean you as my assistant. I mean you as a person, you as my safe place, you as my confident, you as my biggest support when nobody's there."

He wants to yell at your confused face. You don't quite understand what he is trying to say, or better say, you are still not believing what he is trying to say.

"I like you." He confesses, finally using the right words. "I've been trying to hide this feeling for so long, I thought me being with other girls was going to help. It didn't, I can't forget about you."

You look into his eyes, the same eyes you are so familiarize with. The same eyes you can describe without looking at them.

"Y/n?" He asks, afraid of fucking things up. "Please say something."

You don't say anything, you grab his face into your hands. You join your lips together, pressing his drenched body to yours.

His hands go to your back, holding you closer as he deepens the kiss. You don't care about the air running short, you dont care about the feeling of your clothes getting wet.

You care about him, how his lips sink with yours, and how your tongues are dancing in a perfect way. Sadly, the air was making things end.

You press your forehead to his, breathing heavily. Your eyes are still closed, not wanting to open them.

His hands move, grabbing your head and separating it from him. He gives your forehead a kiss.

"Does that mean you feel the same?" He asks, kissing your temple. "Mmm?"

You giggle, nodding. You separate enough to peck his lips. "I do."

You two are interrupted by the sound of your phone. You grab it, reading the notification of the Uber app.

"My Uber canceled." You say to him, blocking the phone and putting it away.

"Good," he says, pecking your lips again. "I wasn't planning on letting you go."

mclaren

❤️92, 2 mil 💬199 ↗️1,709

mclaren Our first 1-2 at the #AustrianGP in 25 years 🏆 📖 ...

#Mclaren #F1

1K notes · View notes

leriexoxo · 5 months ago

Text

Lerie’s Stray Kids Masterlist 🧸

Every work listed here contains SMUT! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (you will be blocked)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Bang Chan

Friendly fire part 1 | part 2

Movie night extra part 1 | part 2 ft Leeknow

Teachers pet 1 | part 2

Wet ‘n’ wild

No boundaries

Truth or strip 1 | part 2

A bumpy ride | part 2

A hot mess 1 | part 2

Wrong movie ticket

Unknown number

Vocal training

Hands on my throat 1 | part 2

Private access only

Leeknow

Movie night extra part 2 ft. Chan

Bad roomie

The sleepover

The bodyguard

Pretty boy, Asshole 1 | part 2

Wait, aren’t you gay?

Dont bite the hand that fingers you

Built for ruin

Changbin

Sexual healing

Off limits

Just another work trip

Muscle memory

Truths are for pussies

Hyunjin

Love to hate you

Occupied: Do not disturb

I’ll let the world burn

Pinned and pierced

The things we never said

Wrong place, right time

Nowhere to hide

Don’t let me love you

Han

Stolen touches

Rivalry redefined 1 | part 2

Tastes like trouble ft. Seungmin

Traffic jam

Call me noona

Accidental nudes 1 | part 2

Library rules don’t apply

Felix

More than friends

Shh! Dont tell anyone…

Across the window

Fashion week secret

Seungmin

Dead batteries

Thin Line

Tastes like trouble ft. Jisung

Kissing 101

Look what you made me do

Lipstick stains & sharp tongues

Missing Keycard

Jeongin

Follow my lead

Heatwave

Pressure points

Rumor has it…

Just curious

HEADCANONS

Bff! Straykids in a staring match with you

Enemies with benefits (hyung line)

Bf! Skz and how they fuck you during a fight

Bf! Skz and how they jerk off to you (hyung line)

Bf! Skz and how they jerk off to you (maknae line)

Straykids and their styles of dominance (OT8)

Straykids and their styles of submission (OT8)

How each member falls for their enemy (OT8)

Straykids and everything about their cum (OT8)

Boy x Boy

Just This Once (Hyunjin x Jisung) BL

Part one Part two

Between The Lines (Chan x Hyunjin) BL

Part one Part two Part three Part four

SERIES

Angry Boys (OT8 Series)

OT8 Masterlist

Enemies To Lovers (OT8 Series)

OT8 Masterlist

The Love Diary (OT8 Series)

Escape (Chan x Reader x Hyunjin)

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part six

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andhumanslovedstories · 9 months ago

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An intro to doing crosswords for complete beginners

as told by someone who didn’t do any before this year and now has gotten so deeply into them

with examples pulled almost entirely from crosswords published in American publications this week

A crossword is not a measure of general knowledge or intelligence or skill with words anymore than a Mario game is a measure of how good you are at plumbing. It certainly helps to have the same cultural reference points as the puzzle, but you can brute force your way through a lot of it if you just know how crosswords work

Easiest on Mondays and then get harder over the week

The answer is in the same verb tense as the clue (ex. “doesn’t float” is “SINKS” while “didn’t float” is “SANK”)

If there’s an acronym or abbreviation in the clue, the answer will have one as well (ex. “Toothpaste-approving org.” is “ADA” because that the short way of referring to the American Dental Association)

If the answer is in written like a text from a teen girl with her first flip phone, the answer will be a common texting abbreviation (TMI, OMG, LOL, LMAO, BRB, TTYL, etc) (ex. three letter word with clue “i can’t believe u told me that” is “TMI”)

If the clue is in quotes, it’s dialogue and the response should also be dialogue (ex. the clue “‘That’s it for me!’” is “IQUIT”)

An answer can be multiple words, (see above) so some correct answers can make you second guess yourself because it creates letter combos that seem impossible to be in one English (mostly) word or mess you up bc it’s ambiguous where one word ends and another begins (ex. you have the letters “OWFO” and the answer ends up being “PILLOWFORT” or “UDAT” being “BERMUDATRIANGLE”)

Treat clues with a question mark like they’re going to be puns that make you groan so think about other meanings of the words in the clue (ex. “Volumes you can hear?” is “AUDIOBOOKS” or “Not fancy at all?” is “HATE” or “Remained under cover?” is “SLEPTIN”)

Clues that add hedging language line “they could be called…” or one might use this as…” are telling you to think very laterally. These are the ones that make you a little mad when you get them (ex. “They might be said to be dancing or raging” is “FLAMES” or “They admit they might be punched” is “TICKETS”)

The word “maybe” usually indicates the answer will be an example of the clue, not a synonym (ex. “Pet, maybe” is “CAT”)

If a person is in the clue and a person is the answer, the answer will be from the same part of name as the clue (ex. Trevor Noah replaced John Stewart on the Daily Show. So the clue “Stewart’s successor on the Daily Show” is “NOAH” while “John’s successor on the Daily Show” would be “TREVOR”

No word in the clue will be featured in the answer (ex. “What Beyoncé Knowles goes by” could be “ONENAME” but could never be “BEYONCÉ”)

A answer can be a phonetic spelling of a letter (ex. “Epic finale?” is “CEE”)

Not every clue is going to be tricky and clever, don’t rule out an obvious choice just because it’s obvious (ex. “Do ___ disturb” is “NOT”)

Roman numerals pop up a lot but typically only in clues where a Roman numeral makes sense, so “finale of a play?” could be “ACTII” but “Number of Stooges” is not going to be “III”

There’s a ton of really common clues. If you do enough crossword puzzles you recognize them. (ex. Literally almost anything about oil is going to be OPEC, any variations on “things on a smartphone that someone can download and use” is going to be “APPS”, and anything about a european capital city is probably “OSLO”)

If a clue can be about a cookie, the answer is almost certainly “OREO”

#crosswords #I’ve done 94 crosswords in the last two weeks

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year ago

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You Came, You Called || LN4

Summary: when strangers follow you from the nightclub there’s only one person you want to call.

Warnings: angst, threatening behaviour, fluff

WC: 2.4K

Lando stirred at the sound of his phone ringing on the bedside table. There were few people who could get past the ‘do not disturb’ setting that came into effect after midnight. With bleary eyes he reached for the phone and cringed at the bright light in his face but the sight of your name chased away his exhaustion.

It had been 162 days since you last spoke to him. It had been 162 days since he had ruined everything. He regretted his foolishness for every single one of those days and his stomach flipped at the thought of hearing your voice.

“Hey,” he answered, a flinch following as his voice cracked from lack of use while he slept. He quickly cleared it before trying again. “Hey.”

“Hey, baby.”

Alarm bells rang in his head and he sat up straight. Had you called the wrong man? That thought soured in his mouth.

“I’m on my way home.”

It wasn’t your unsteady voice he was focused on but the male voices that sounded far too close for his liking. “Aw, don’t call your boyfriend. We only want to talk.”

“Where are you?” Lando was already pulling on a pair of sweatpants and grabbing the first shirt he came across. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you whispered with a tremble in your tone. “I miss you.”

“Tell me where you are, sweetheart. I’m on my way.”

“Come on, gorgeous, it’s just a bit of fun,” a man called out and Lando saw red when he heard you choke back a sob. He knew the sound because he had been the reason for it before, and it had haunted him ever since. “He doesn’t have to know.”

“I’m heading towards Chocolat Boutique, please hurry.”

“I’m coming, sweetheart. I’m on my way.” Lando was already racing down to the garage and jumping in his McLaren. The engine roared loudly in the underground space before he tore out onto the street. “Keep talking to me, okay?”

The small store would have closed hours ago, but it was down the street from Jimmyz nightclub which was where you probably had been. He didn’t even know you were in town, and he didn’t have a right to know your whereabouts anymore.

“I’m scared, Lan.” The pain echoed around him as his phone connected to the car and played in surround sound.

“I know you are, but it’s going to be okay. I’m almost there, I promise.” He didn’t care about speeding tickets or running red lights. He flew through the narrow streets as he was forced to listen to the cat calls.

“I didn’t know who to call,” you admitted as you tried to walk faster but your heels hindered any escape. The three men were getting closer but they were in no hurry as they prowled both sides of the street to herd you along.

“You can always call me, love,” Lando swore, taking the last turn fast enough for the tires to squeal in protest. “And I’ll always answer.”

He found you on the footpath clutching your phone to your ear, hand cupped over the microphone as you spoke to him. Fear had widened your eyes and your normal stature cowered under the gaze of the men behind you.

Twisting the steering wheel, Lando skidded to a halt beside you and threw the door open. You had seen him angry before, when races don’t go his way, but this was beyond anger. Waves of rage rolled off him as you leapt into his arms, your trembling form finding itself molding perfectly back into his body. Two puzzle pieces slotting back together.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he soothed as he cradled the back of your head and glared over your shoulder. “You’re safe now.”

He might not have been the most imposing figure but you knew Lando was strong and regularly had boxing lessons for training. You had no doubt that if anything escalated he would use every lesson to protect you, but the cowards shrank back into the shadows of the shops.

“Let’s get you home.”

You were in such a state of shock that you didn’t see Lando wince at his mistake. You hadn’t called his apartment home for 162 days, not since you packed your bags and left. But right now you longed for that place where you had felt so safe and secure, tangled in his sheets and he curled his body around yours.

He opened the passenger door and reluctantly stepped out of your embrace to guide you into the seat. The doors locked as he started the engine and you exhaled a heavy breath of relief when the street was left behind.

Tearing your eyes away from the tinted window, you looked at Lando properly and saw his disheveled appearance. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

“I’m not.” He took his eyes off the road for a second before reaching over to take your hand. “You’re freezing.”

He couldn’t tell if you were shaking because you were cold or if it was the adrenaline leading to shock. Dropping your hand he reached behind your seat to grab a hoodie that was always left in the car. The material was soft and smelled like him as you pulled on, inhaling deeply at the familiarity of the scent.

“I miss stealing these,” you whispered as you buried your cold hands into the front pocket.

Lando chuckled at the admission. He missed seeing his hoodies on you and asking if you knew where his favourite ones were. You would lie and he would smile at how terrible the attempt was.

“You can steal that one, if you want. I have too many now that they don’t mysteriously disappear.”

The car pulled into the garage and you found the space where your car used to park now filled with a pretty Lamborghini. A new sense of sadness hit that of course everything could be upgraded and replaced. “You can take me to my hotel. I wasn’t thinking clearly, you probably have company.”

His lips turned down at the thought and he shook his head. Lando understood why you would assume that, after all it was the reason you had left. What he had thought was harmless flirting had wrought destruction on his relationship with you. He knew he should’ve deleted the messages as soon as they were received but a moment of weakness when he was away from you led him to reply.

He betrayed your trust and he had regretted it ever since.

“There isn’t anyone,” he said as he parked. “There isn’t anyone ever, just to be clear.”

You mulled over his words as you stepped out of the car and accepted his hand, trading the warmth of the pocket for his palm. You kept hearing the insinuation echo with each step in the empty garage.

“Did you go out alone tonight?”

You shook your head. “Ana felt sick so she left. I should have gone with her.”

“So why did you stay?”

You weren’t ready to admit there was a slight hope you would see him so you just shrugged. It was Saturday night in Monaco and Jimmyz was the place to be - especially for a handsome, single man like Lando. You hadn’t wanted it to be this way though.

“I stopped going there after…a couple of months ago,” he said as he unlocked his door.

“Why? You loved that place.”

“I loved going with you,” he corrected. “I got to hold you and dance, show you off to everyone. When I went back, everyone just wanted to use me.”

You could imagine the women fawning over him and the men trying to be his next best friend. Sex or money, it was all they wanted from him.

“I’m sorry, Lan.”

“Lan,” he chuckled, following the light down the hall to his bedroom. The blanket was tossed aside and his charging cord was half hanging from the wall, a testament to how quickly he had left his bed to rescue you. “No one else calls me that anymore. It’s always Lando Norris, full name, so fucking weird. It’s Lando Norris getting out of his car. Oh, look, it’s Lando Norris scratching his nose.”

You laughed at his impersonation and sat at the edge of the bed. It was such an innocent thing but it brought back a million memories made in this room and he was seeing them all too as he stood frozen.

“Are you going to stand there all night, Lando Norris?”

His eyes traced your lips that mocked him before he shook his head of the thought that entered his head. Going to his wardrobe, he grabbed a loose shirt and tossed it to you before turning his back. “That’ll be more comfortable to sleep in than your dress.”

You laughed to yourself as he turned away, despite intimately knowing every inch of your body, until you found his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. His tortured eyes dared you to tell him to look away, but they begged you all the same. Maybe you were feeling grateful for the rescue, or maybe it was just an old habit that you held his gaze as you rose to your feet and let your dress fall to the floor with his hoodie.

His eyes darkened and he groaned, but the sound woke him up from his stupor. “I’ll go sleep on the couch.”

“Wait.” You took a step towards him as he stepped towards the door. “Please stay.”

He heard the fragility in your tone and the residual fear from the evening creeping back. He knew it was a bad idea but he couldn’t find the words to voice them as he gripped the door handle.

You watched his fingers release their tight hold before he nodded. “But please put the shirt on,” he pleaded as you tested his self restraint.

It was summer and the air still held warmth despite the early hour, but you dutifully pulled it over your head and climbed into the sheets. Lando waited until you were completely covered before he walked around to his side of the bed and curled up at the edge.

You both lay in silence, back to back, watching the shadows on the wall as the minutes ticked away. Lando was like a heat seeking missile and he was fighting an internal battle to keep from rolling over and curling his body around yours. You had always loved physical contact, it was comforting to be wrapped in his arms.

You knew he was awake and uncomfortable.

He knew you were awake and uncomfortable.

A few more minutes passed and you could no longer pretend he didn’t exist, or that you didn’t want the comfort he could give. “Lan?”

“Yeah?” His response was instant and you felt the bed shift as he rolled onto his back.

“Stop being weird and just cuddle me so we can get some sleep.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You giggled and reached blindly for him. “I am already.”

Your hand found his arm and he shimmied across the space until it curled around your waist. His knees tucked behind yours and his breath warmed your neck as he whispered, “I’m sorry. For everything. I know you hate me, but-”

“I don’t,” you interjected, twisting your neck to look at him in the dim light. “I did, I really did. But I don’t anymore.”

“You should. I hurt you so bad. I deserve your hate.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat and looked away as you admitted aloud what you had known for a while. “I can’t hate you, Lan, not when I still love you.”

Lando froze still behind you and you weren’t sure if he was even breathing. “You still love me?” Disbelief, wonder, hope - it was so saturated in that question.

“I thought something terrible was going to happen to me tonight so I called you in case it was the last time I could. I didn’t want ‘I hate you’ to be my last words to you.”

Lando’s gut clenched at the thought and his arms tightened around you, crushing your back to his chest. “I wish you called sooner, I would come day or night to get you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do,” he said sadly. “Every weekend for the past five months I wonder if you are out drinking and clubbing. I know it’s not my place, and I lost all right to know where you are, but I need to know you safe, sweetheart. It kills me to think that there might be someone else looking out for you, because that was my job. It should still be my job, to protect you, because I love you too. I never stopped loving you.”

You squirmed in his arms but they were too tight to move. “Lan, I need you to let go of me,” you murmured.

“I’ve tried, but I can’t. I can’t give up on us.”

“Lan.”

His breath was shaky but he released his tight grip on you, despite his desire to keep you close. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said any of that.”

He started to pull away but you finally had room to move and followed. “Lando! Come back, you muppet. I just wanted to see your face without breaking my neck,” you laughed.

He paused, a little from appearing between his brows. “Let go…oh…” His eyes lit up even in the dark room and he bundled you back into his arms. “Muppet is my word.”

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck and inhaled his scent. “I stole it too, like your hoodies.”

“I was a muppet so you can have it this time.” He pulled back so he could find your eyes. “Where does this leave us?”

“You broke my trust.” You felt him deflate at the words. “But when I needed you, you came.”

“You called.”

Your chest felt light with emotion those two words brought and you combed your fingers into his dark curls. “I don’t know where this leaves us but what I do know is that I really want you to kiss me.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Now? Are you sure? It might just be the adrena-”

“Shut up and kiss me, Lan.”

He didn’t need to be told a third time.

#lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n

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