#sorry I've been posting about this all day I know it's not what you expect or want to see

[808airsoftbros]

Voicemail (JinSoul)

Author: Some mood post that I came up with in thought. Hope you enjoy it, and if you want to check out more of my content, refer to the Masterlist page.

Y/N's POV

Jinsol and I have been together for at least five years. When we first met, it was all humble beginnings. She was trying to get into the Kpop industry while I was a college student.

Jinsol trained her body to the maximum of her capabilities; when she fell, I was there to catch her. That's what she always appreciated about me. I was there when she needed me.

In the early age of our relationship, it was all honeymoon and flowers. Jinsol always looked after me in return for my help; she'd always make time for us when she was not busy.

There is nothing more I can ask or change about her... At least at the time... When our fourth anniversary approached, Jinsol had already been selected as a trainee under a company after successfully passing the audition.

Unfortunately, this meant we cannot contact each other as often as her phone time is limited, and most of her time is preoccupied with training.

Anyway, most forward, when she finally debuted, we all celebrated together, despite her new status as an idol, she always saw me as her devoted boyfriend.

However, as time went on and as she and her group grew bigger, things took a turn for the worse. She stopped contacting and facetiming as often... Even if we did, she had little interest in me and I felt I was just a bother to her.

I tried brushing it off, thinking it was all fatigue from her busy schedule, but when she had vacations off, she'd rather spend her time with her friends rather than me.

Did I forget to mention that one friend of hers... Was a guy? Yep, you heard me right.

I felt rather hurt by it, when I tried asking her about it, she got defensive and assured I had nothing to worry about. Boy, I should've known it was all nothing but words with no meaning to it.

Nowadays, I spend my days all alone, my friends are all away from the country for better career opportunities, while I was working in a powerplant facility.

I tried calling Jinsol on her phone over and over, but she never answers and puts me on voicemail. At that point, any sane person can expect nothing but the worst outcome.

After all I've done for her... The sacrifices and hardships... We're all nothing to her? I guess so.

That night, I tried one final time...

*ring* *ring* *ring* "I'm sorry, but the person you're reaching out to is not available to take your call at this moment. Please leave a voice message after the tone."

*ringtone*

"Hey, Jinsol... Been a while, has it? If you're even bothering enough to hear this, then... You and I both know it's over. I tried calling you, but you never answered. So, seeing you with your new 'friend', you call him, I'll stop wasting my time bothering ya. I guess everything we've been through... When you debuted and when I helped you up during your training days was forgetting all of that... Really worth it? If so, I can't do much to change anything... You clearly made your choice to be with him... So I hope you two are happy together. But if you aren't... Then you better find someone else to help you up like I did... Because you are not welcome back here. Goodbye."

*hangs up*

[avocado-writing]

i haven't stopped thinking about the girl dinner Copia piece you wrote since you posted it and I was wondering if you could write a perpetua version too? thank you 💖

LMAO of course I can. girl dinner course 2.

creature!perpetua x gn!reader; rimming; perpetua goes creature-mode when he feels pleasure

"Darling, I've just heard about something fantastic!"

He practically skitters into your shared chambers, eyes wide and excited. He taps the tips of his talons together as if he's found out the most delicious secret, deadly conspiratorial and obviously wanting you to know, too.

You're not expecting this to be anything mindblowing. It's sweet, just how excited he gets as he learns more about the human world, acclimatising from creature to man. The other day he 'discovered' 3D red-and-cyan glasses and you thought he might actually lose his mind when you dug out your old anaglyph dinosaur book. He sat there for the whole afternoon with it in his lap, little "wow"s slipping from his perfect pouted lips.

So there's that. But there's also the sex stuff he's learning, how to pleasure this human body he's started to live in. And that's been a lot of fun too.

"Have you heard of 'girl dinner'?"

"I have. What do you think it is, though?" you ask, carefully.

He goes on to describe his understanding of it in great detail, eyes and smile both getting wider. You look bemused.

"Baby, you just described rimming."

"Ah I see, it has another name?"

"Yeah. Is that something you'd like to try?"

"Oh yes, yes please!"

"Okay, well, go wash up and I'll meet you in the bedroom," you reply, and he chitters in absolute delight before running off towards the shower, his long ungainly legs needing only a couple of strides to cross the room.

You head to get everything ready, making sure that the pillows are nice and fluffed up for him to lean against, turning down the lamp light just a little to set the mood. He walks back in a few minutes later with a towel wrapped low around his hips, hair damp and dripping. The line of fuzz leading from his navel to his dick looks just delicious like this.

"C'mon, baby. Lie in front of me."

You take his hand and he looks at you as if you hung the stars as you carefully position him onto all fours, removing the towel, guiding him where you want him. When you're sure he's comfortable you sit behind him on your knees, running a finger along his hole which has him gasping.

"Have you been playing with yourself?" you ask, noticing the way he's flared open more than usual.

"I, ah, put in a plug when I read about this earlier. Thought it might help..."

"Oh, you're so cute. Should have left it in, I'd have loved to tug it out of you, baby..."

He squeaks from the back of his throat, an inhuman noise of excitement unable to stay bottled. You grin and get to work, your tongue licking a broad stripe along his hole.

Perpetua screeches in pleasure and, before you can realise what's happening, his usually glamoured wings pop out of his back. They almost knock you off of the bed, only your quick reaction time saves you as you duck.

"Ah! My love, I'm so sorry, I just--"

"You liked that, huh?"

"I did," he groans, hiding his face in the cover. You can only imagine how pink his face has gone and it makes you grin.

"I'm gonna go again, okay?"

"Oh, yes please."

You chuckle, reaching up to stroke one of his wings before you lean back down. You're less teasing with your tongue this time, parting his cheeks with your hands and holding him open so you have better access. He gasps as he feels your lips against his rim, buring your face there so you can give him the stimulation he needs.

"Fuck, oh my, you're... it's..." he can't quite articulate the words he needs, especially from the way his fangs begin to grow more crowded in his mouth. You love this, love the way he reverts to the creature you adore when the pleasure is too much for him to hold in.

"Let go baby, I've got you," you hum, spreading him as far open as he'll go and pressing your tongue deep inside. You hear the rip of bedsheets as his talons try to find purchase in the duvet, and you smile to yourself.

Yes, girl dinner is pretty great.

[frost-eyed-autumn]

@starsburned

Leaving Shirase's place, he wasn't really sure what he should be expecting. The moment he'd received that text that tipped him off that not all was well, his thoughts had scattered like a flock of startled birds being dive-bombed by an eagle, or a hungry cat, all going in different directions.

Depending on a few things, there's a risk leaving Shirase alone and without his protection, but the more he puts this off, the more likely of a possibility that can become. He knows to some decent degree just how Mori works, and he knows that if Mori plans to do anything at all, he'll do it quickly.

Mori isn't hasty, but he also professes to the philosophy that the winner is the one who strikes first.

And if he's lost all favor with Mori, then so too have the Sheep lost all guarantee of safety. He can't let either of those things happen, which means he can't leave Mori waiting.

And maybe, this is all just a little bit of a test, when he thinks about it. To see just how fast he would come running back, the moment he was called without being called. Because of course, he would never ask for days off, unless something was wrong.

Mori had acted glad he was taking care of himself, and Chuuya had been surprised he hadn't asked more questions, but maybe he was just foolish for thinking the immediate approval meant nothing more than what it looked like on surface level.

He hates, really, when his first gut reaction to what he doesn't expect turns out to be right, but his trust had always been as much of his weak point as it was his strength.

If Mori is issuing a test, he knows he has to pass it.

If Mori's not, he has to pass it anyway just to be safe, no matter what he finds when he arrives.

Being Mafia means accepting the risk that death can come at any time. It can come from a bullet, from poison, from an enemy with a powerful Ability, from the death penalty by law for being a violent criminal, or it can come down from Mori himself.

He's always believed, since fully integrating into the Mafia's culture and Mori's empire, that anyone who isn't ready to accept that reality doesn't belong. It's why, even though he's highly favored and considered to be one of the more fair-minded Executives, he's also one of the toughest on weeding out new recruits by putting them through the wringer before they're in so deep that a body bag is the only way they're leaving. Some would call that work-place abuse ; he calls it mercy. If they can't stand the heat, they don't belong in a world as violent and unforgiving as the Mafia's. Niceties can come after they've proven they can handle it.

Whatever judgment Mori has on his mind when he arrives, he'll face it without cowardice, even if a sense of dread twists so tightly in his chest he can hardly breathe.

It'll be fine. It's not like back then. Mori will be fair and listen to him.

He has to keep believing that until there's no way he can anymore, or he'll crumble.

What he's not expecting as he arrives at the top of the tower is to be blockaded by guards posted in front of the doors. Nothing that's all that unusual, really, except the fact that its him they're not letting through.

"I'm going to see the Boss. Move out of my way."

"I'm sorry, Nakahara, but you don't have the clearance."

He's silent for exactly one beat. "What the fuck do you mean, I don't have the clearance?" Even as much as his thoughts are disorganized, it doesn't take him much to connect the dots between [You can take an extended leave] and what he's being told now. "Are you saying I've been demoted?"

"I'm sorry, sir. All I have are orders that I'm not to let you through."

"Tch." His lip curls back a moment, peeved. Even as an Executive, he's powerless to defy the security personnel if they're acting on Mori's order. "Yeah well then go talk to him and get him to change his mind!" Before they can answer, he throws his hands up to stop them. "No-- you know what? Fuck it, I'll call him myself."

Yanking his phone from his pocket, he only needs to press a speed-dial number for it to go through, since Mori is the most important number he has, and he tries to keep his voice from being too noticeably frustrated when he hears the other side pick up. He only really half-succeeds.

"I'm outside your office and your guys won't let me through."

[noshamenogain]

MMMMM this game has so many pretty boys but I gotta give my love to the breaker box boys. Also thank you @Sugxto for feeding me while I had writer's block and inspiring some of the contents.

Again this is a smut fic, over 18 only pretty please

This includes: Threesome m/m/gn afab, embarrassment about kink, erotic electrostimulation, consensual voyeurism kinda?, pretty boys being pretty boys

Also I aparently posted this with part of my 1am sleep deprived outline, it has how been edited and removed lol

You're in the Breaker Box, hoping to wind down from your day and also see your pretty boys. The show is...just as pleasant as usual but unlike most nights someone stands up and starts heckling Johnny Splash. It isn't just the occasional light disses he's gotten over time. They're going at it full force. You can't see who's casuing the fuss but you do see Volt. He gets up his hair and eyes a bit more bright than usual, his posture tighter, tensed. You see him confront the argumentative customer, electricity flying, and then you see it. His body flashes blue, his eyes sharp, more intense than you've ever seen. You feel a twinge. Worry of course, worry for your friend, your partner, forced beyond his composure, but also...jealousy?

Oh..oh no.

You feel jealous of the person Volt is raging towards. Jealousy of his sharp, ruthless attention. He's always been sweet when he's with you, a bit of teasing and banter but never...intense in the way you see him now. It sends shivers down your spine. You watch as his skin ripples with power. If he were to touch you in that moment.. Oh gods.

Eventually Volt manages to fully escort the unruly guest out. Once removed Vokt calms down a bit but still seems pretty frazzled. You snap out of your strange and approach him.

"Hey, are you alright Volt?"

He looks up still sparking but suppresses it when he sees you "Livewire! So sorry you had to see that display, other than the interruption how did you enjoy the show tonight?"

"It was alright" you lied. It wasn't that you disliked Johnny Splash, its just that he was, well, and acquired taste. Despite that you still liked that he kept coming back and trying to improve, so each time he performed you applauded politely.

Someone waved over to Volt gesturing him to come over. "Sorry Livewire, business calls. Will I still see you at closing?" The look in his eyes seems almost pleading. You immediately feel guilty about your earlier feelings. He needs comfort. And gosh darn it are you going to give it!

"Of course I'll be here love, don't worry"

Vokt smiles and meanders over to the group calling him. You wander over to the bar to see how Eddie is fairing, despite your expectations the bar is surprising empty for a moment. Eddie stands there, polishing a glass but he stops and looks up as you approach.

"Geting anything to drink tonight dear?" He asks. Since you've become partners his eyes have just a slight flirtatious twinkle in them nearly every time you talk.

"Not yet, unless its a big glass of you, in that case I can't refuse"

It was cheesy you know, but he blushes all the same and you smile, but a just a bit of your earlier hesitation leaks out and Eddie pauses to look at you, really look at you.

"There's something you aren't telling me, spill"

You pause, nervous under his gaze, but things had always gone better when you were transparent with him. "I was worried for Volt. I've never seen him so, intense."

Eddie looked at you wanting to say something but noticing you weren't finished.

"And alongside the worry...I-"

He waited. Patient. Letting you speak what you were too afraid to admit.

"I was jealous. Jealous of his attention on them. Of his sharp, sparking gaze. I wanted him to look at me like that. I wanted him to touch me, to feel all of the pent up emotion" your voice was shaking at the admission but you carry on. "I don't want to hurt him, I love him, I love you, but, I can't explain."

Eddie looks at you. Not angry, but a slight bit intrigued. He had worried that Volt's outburst had scared you but this new revelation was, well, not what he was expecting. They had always treated you gently. Pampering you and spoiling you both in and outside the bedroom. In private Eddie and Volt were quite a bit rougher with each other but to see you flushed and conflicted..he wondered if maybe, just maybe, he Volt could bully you a bit.

"He only gets blue when he's truly angry. I dont recommend trying to recreate that." At your guilty expression he holds up a hand for you to let him finish. "However, if you want those sharp eyes on you, hungry and cutting, well...I might be able to assist"

You gawk. Was this really happening? You were expecting a lecture about Volt's role as protector, but now he was offering.. what was he offering?

"Come back to the breaker box monday night, we're closed that day so we'll have plenty of time."

The rest of the evening passed as usual, you helped Eddie clean up, and gave a kiss to each of your pretty boys. The rest of the weekend was spent in a daze of nervous interest and curiosity. Neither Volt nor Eddie seemed to react any differently, except you seemed to notice Volt sneaking glances more often. He had an unreadable expression. That made you even more nervous. And eventually Monday came. You walked into the breaker box nervously and at the bar Eddie and Volt were sitting, waiting. Volt seemed nervous but his eyes were hungry. You shuddered, those eyes, you wanted to never look away again but the flushed feeling took over and you looked at Eddie who was...excited? He had an almost wolfish grin and his eyes glittered when he saw you.

"Hey livewire, excited for tonight?" He winked.

Oh gods he was plotting something wasn't he. Last time he used that tone he had trapped you into a moaning mess spilling out all of your unspoken desires. And they had obliged. "Looking forward to it" you say nervously.

Eddie takes your hand and leads to to the loft. Volt follows his eyes never leaving you. Normally they both lead you up, was something wrong? But Volt didn't look upset, rather his eyes were still that slight bit hungry.

Eddie sat in the bed, pulling you into his lap so that you both faced Volt. He was already a bit hard under you and you let out a little chuckle. It's cut off by the hiccup in your voice as Eddie starts kissing your neck, his hands grazing your ribs, sliding under your shirt, gentle and teasing. He knows you want more but he keeps going lightly, barely grazing your skin each time his hands go up your sides.

You look at Volt. He'd normally have joined by now. Did Eddie tell him about how you felt? Was he that disappointed with you?

No.

His eyes he looked at you like you were the only thing that existed, like you were all he ever wanted, his eyes were pure want.

"Eddie, don't you think this is enough" Volt said, his normally lofty voice sounded a bit forced. He tried to move forward but Eddie stopped him.

"Not yet Volt, wait."

You shudder at the comand, so does Volt. He stands there hands opening and closing and swallows.

Eddie begins to undress you, doing so slowly, showing off to Volt and making a show of it. He moves to bite the other side of your neck, the one he's neglected from the kisses. You moan, deep and guteral. He bit far harder than usual and when he released you were shaking. The skin ached and the mark was clearly visible. A little spark flew out from Volt. His eyes bright in blue lightning but still attempting to hold back. You were shivering from his eyes on you just as much as you were from the relentless teasing of Eddie's hands, which were now on your thighs stroking and petting with just the occasional scratch making your hips buck.

Your pants came off next and Eddie forced his legs between yours, and then apart, forcing your legs spread open and showing you off. You face blazed crimson and you looked away, only for Eddie to force your head forward and up meeting Volt's gaze. Electricity surged through you. His gaze was like a predator waiting for its chance, the room felt like the moment before a lightning strike and you could feel the mutual longing. The need. The pressure.

Eddie did too but instead he slipped his hand into you

His finger lazely curved in and out of you pressing on your clit and making obnoxious wet noises. You moan as he speeds up only making shallow movements. More. You need more. You look at Volt pleading "please- more, I- I need more" You see purple lightning flash around him.

"Ah ah ah, not yet" Eddie rumbles into your ear. "Gotta be a bit more specific. What do you want, truly want?"

You're panting at this point, if you had had any spare space in your pleasure addled brain you'd be having flashbacks to last time, but now the only things that existed were Eddie, and Volt, and a chasm of yearning "T-touch me please! Tease me, let out everything, electrocute me" the start came out as a whiny beg but the last two words come out in a breathy deep moan.

Were Volt in any sane mind he might have hesitated, worried fretfully about if he would end up hurting you. However Eddie had riled him up by suggesting that he not move until you begged for it. His skin buzzed. He needed this. He needed you. To make you feel the same electricity he felt shooting through his body. To see you crumple. He hesitated only for a moment and lunged towards you, yanking your chin up and kissing you far more forcefully then you were used to. And then you felt it, every inch of your skin buzzed as if every nerve had lit up from the shock of it. He released moving over to your right side kissing you, whispering words you were to blissed out to hear, his hand lifting up and stroking the other side of your neck *zap* your hips buck as you feel the shock along your neck. Fuck. You thought it would feel good but gods they had been holding this back from you? You let out another pleading moan and Volt continues moving along your body zapping your back, your ribs, your hips. Each time you cry out bucking into Eddie, he'd been getting a good amount of friction from the amount of your squirming.

Volt leans into you kissing you roughly as runs his hands up your spine. Each shock making you want to cry out. But his mouth is on yours and he shocks the roof of your mouth as well. You barely notice Eddie reaching around your hips to undo Volt's belt but you notice when Volt finally moves away, his cock twitching.

He needs this.

Needs you.

"Please" you reach up wrapping your arms around his neck. You look at his eyes. Oh fuck his eyes were gorgeous. Pure unbridled power and yearning. Your plea was all he needed to thrust into you. The moment he bottomed out you felt like you had been struck by lightning. Your body spasmed but he just kept thrusting. His nails tore at your back sparking and electrocuting you. Eddie held your ribs kissing and biting your neck preventing any escape. Like you ever could escape from these two. Your cry out sharply as Volt's finger hovered over your clit. He zaps uou again and you cry out even louder, your mind flashing white each time. His pace increases and you have no idea how you haven't broken, you're begging now crying out their names, begging to cum, begging the charge inside you to finally trip- and it does. You have no idea how your voice manages to make such a cry but you cum spasming and tightening around Volt your hips shaking. The shaking of your hips sends Eddie over as he digs his head deeper into the crook of your neck before he looks up at Volt. And gods the view he has both of you looking up at him eyes glazed in pleasure. He trips and soon he's coming inside you, white hot and searing but gods does it feel good.

You feel like like your floating and it takes you a full minute until your eyes are able to focus on anything. The first thing you see is Volt's bright white eyes, no longer filled with hunger but pure contentment. You lean back and Eddie lets put a slight groan "Dont worry spark, still here. Though I think I'll have trouble explaining this one to Washford."

You blush, he's never cum just from friction before, at least not with you. His own blush creeps up his face and you smile and kiss his cheek, bristly with stubble.

"Thank you Eddie." You murmur into his neck.

He quirks an eyebrow at you "For what livewire?"

You have just enough bliss fogging your brain for the words to come out without an embarrassed fluster "For pushing me over the edge until I was finally honest, Volt's normally the one who pushes buttons so its always a pleasant surprise"

Volt makes a mock offended scoff before replying "Are you saying he can push buttons better than ME?"

You and Eddie chuckle

"Of course not" Eddie chuckles. "You just seem to be rubbing off on me a bit more than I'd like to admit."

You and Volt smile. Eddie had become a lot more relaxed after the reset and both you and Volt were glad to see the warmth in his usually steely gaze. Not that you minded a bit of hardess in his stare. No, you were quickly realizing that these pretty boys would likely be your undoing and awakening for quite a bit.

But for now you simply enjoyed their electric warmth.

[canisalbus]

You got so many crochet asks that they convinced ME to try it :') I might go buy some yarn

.

[harrysfolklore]

max verstappen being the perfect boyfriend: a compilation

summary: max verstappen can’t help but talk about his girlfriend whenever he cans, fans make compilation videos about it

folkie radio: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAXIEEE, it's been a minute since the last time i did a compilation blurb and this felt like the perfect occasion to bring them back, i hope you like this!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Max Verstappen, three time world champion and the best driver of his generation is known for his incredible driving skills and relentless pursuit of victory on the track.

However, behind the wheel, Max has another passion that rivals his love for racing: his girlfriend.

In every interview, press conference, and social media post, Max can't help but gush about her, seamlessly sharing stories of their life together into conversations about lap times and race strategies.

Fans quickly began doing compilation videos about all the times he mentioned his girlfriend publicly, and those gathered millions of views across social media platforms.

The most popular one was called "Max Verstappen being the perfect boyfriend: a compilation," and it began with a video of Max arriving to the paddock for media day, Red Bull's social media team filming him while he answered some rapid fire questions.

"Waffles or Pancakes? You know I used to love pancakes but I think I've had too many because my girlfriend is obsessed with making them," he said as he signed some stuff, "So I would go for Waffles at the moment, but if my girlfriend is watching this I'd say I take her pancakes every day."

The next clip was from a post qualifying interview, and of course, Max earned the pole position, the interviewer had asked him what was expecting for the race the following day.

"To win of course, that's what I'm here for," he said with so hesitation, "But I'm also looking forward to it because my girlfriend will be here, it's the first race she attends this season and I can't wait to see her in the crowd while I take on the podium."

The video moved to show Max with his teammate Sergio Perez, they were playing a game of Green Flag or Red Flag, they were asked about people who film themselves at the gym and Max immediately waved the red flag.

"I actually don't go to the gym anymore," Max added, "I get annoyed by everyone else so I just exercise at home."

"So no topless selfies, not even at home," the interviewer said.

"I don't need to impress anyone, I've got my girlfriend, so," Max shrugged.

The next clip was taken from Max's own Youtube channel, he was showing some of his preparation routine for a race, that included some neck training, checking statistics, quick meetings with his team and engineers among other things.

And of course, his girlfriend made an appearance, standing in a corner watching everything unfold. He approached her, race suit on and helmet in hand, kissed her lips gently as she caressed his arm.

"Be safe out there okay?" her voice could be faintly heard.

"Always schatje, I love you."

In the next segment, Max had just earned his second world championship and was doing a casual interview for a sports channel.

"Do you have your girlfriend now call you 'Two time world champion Max Verstappen' or just Max,"

"Definitely not the first one," Max laughed, "She'd never do that, she says she likes to keep me humble."

"Your girlfriend has a pet name for you?" the guy asked again.

"We call each other a bit different but I prefer not to say that on camera," Max laughed again, "I don't want the internet to make fun of me for being cheesy."

The next clip was from Max's streamings, he was too immersed in a game that he didn't hear his girlfriend come into the room, noticing her presence when she leaned into him.

Out of habit of keeping their privacy, he covered the camera but forgot to turn his mic off.

"Schatje I'm streaming," he said, unaware that everyone could hear him.

"Oh I'm sorry, I was going to ask if you could feed the cats but I'll do it myself," his girlfriend spoke.

"No I'll do it, just let me get off the stream,"

"Baby, there's no need," she insisted.

"I was missing you anyways, just give me a minute."

His audience couldn't see anything but they clearly heard how Max kissed his girlfriend's lips, turning his attention back to the screen, he realized that he was broadcasting their conversation to everyone.

His viewers went wild in the chat, spamming heart emojis and comments about how sweet the couple was. Max ended the stream with a laugh, addressing his fans. "Alright, you heard the boss. I gotta go feed the cats. See you all next time."

On the same note, another clip from a video for RedBull with Checo was included, they had been asked to show the most recent picture in their phones.

"Oh it's from this morning, my girlfriend with the kids," Max said, showing the picture to the camera.

"The kids?" Checo asked with a laugh.

"The cats are our kids," Max shrugged, "Jimmy and Sassy Verstappen."

A particularly touching moment was from a press conference after a difficult race. Max had finished fifth, a rare position for him given his usual dominance. When asked how he dealt with setbacks, he gave a candid response.

"It can be tough, but my girlfriend always knows how to lift my spirits. She's my biggest supporter and always finds the right words to say. Just being with her makes everything better, no matter how bad the race went."

During a clip of Max giving a tour of the Red Bull factory, he stopped at a wall covered in race-winning memorabilia. Among the trophies and champagne bottles, there was a small, framed photograph.

"This is special to me," Max pointed it out, "It's from my first win with Red Bull. But look closer..."

The camera zoomed in to show a young woman in the background of the photo, cheering in the pit lane.

"That's my girlfriend," Max said softly. "She was there for my first win, and she's been there for every one since - even if she can't always be at the track. The team knew how much that meant to me, so they made sure she was in this photo when they framed it."

In the next segment, Max was asked about his favorite off-track activity.

"I love cooking," Max grinned, "Well, more like watching my girlfriend cook. She's amazing in the kitchen, and I'm just there to taste-test everything."

The compilation included a moment during a press conference, Max addressed a question about his girlfriend facing criticism online. The question arose after she received negative comments following a public appearance with him.

"Look, it's tough sometimes," Max began, his expression turning serious. "She didn't choose this life, but she supports me through everything. It's not fair for her to get hate just because of who she's dating. If you have a problem with me that's fine but don't go after my family or my girlfriend because that is just unacceptable."

The final clip that wrapped the video us was from the FIA Prize Giving ceremony, Max received his trophy for winning the 2023 championship.

In his acceptance speech, he thanked his team, his family, and, of course, his girlfriend.

"Winning races and championships is amazing, but having someone by your side who believes in you and supports you unconditionally is truly special. To my girlfriend, thank you for being my rock and my biggest cheerleader. I love you."

The screen faded to black, showing a text that read: Max Verstappen, three time world champion and the perfect boyfriend.

[tetsumie]

heyy when you have the time to do so, can i request college!suna x reader angst to fluff where reader tries to spend time with suna but they get into an argument where he decides to spend time with his athlete friend group but then feels guilty and make up with reader through heart to heart conversation? 🫶🏻sorry if this is so long i have no idea how to make the prompt shorter but honestly i love all the fics you post so idc if you change it up a bit just thought i’d give an idea

𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

pairing: suna rintaro x gen!neutral reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: you confront him about the growing distance in your relationship, something he's been dismissing for a while, until he finally grasps the seriousness of the situation

cw: suna is a bit harsh; arguments but they make up <3

a/n: hihi anon! ty for requesting and i hope it's to your liking :D i'm still accepting requests for my 1k event so feel free to send more into my inbox!

"it's like i never see you anymore!"

suna and you have been in this back and forth argument for what felt like an eternity and it's draining the life out of you.

suna has been preoccupied with the upcoming inter-collegiate volleyball tournament. as a starter on the prestigious division 1 ejp raijin volleyball team, the arduous practices and pressure have been taking a heavier toll than expected on him.

as a result of this, suna has been incredibly distant in your relationship. he was always gone before you woke up in the morning and didn't return until after you fell asleep. every time you tried to plan a date or suggest something to do together, he somehow always cancels. it's always, "sorry i have to run some extra drills. maybe another day?"

it's exhausting putting this much effort into your relationship when it all seems in vain.

you've tried bringing this up to suna before, mentioning how you would like to spend more time together. but suna, being suna, always brushed it off. but there's only so much dismissal you can take.

you really miss your boyfriend.

but you're not sure he misses you the way you miss him.

"y/n you can't expect me to drop everything for you! like fuck, i have a life outside of you," he exclaims, snapping you back to the current argument at hand.

"i didn't say that, rin."

"that's what you're trying to say," he replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

you shake you head, lowering your voice. "i know volleyball always has and always will be a top priority for you but i just wish... well, it would be nice if you could put a bit of effort into our relationship."

"what if i don't even want to anymore..." he mumbles under his breath as he walks to the closet, grabbing a coat.

the rage in your heart and mind now simmer down to a feeling of dread and heartbreak. what?

as he turns around, he sends an icy glare at you. you've never seen this side of him and you refuse to let him see you crumble apart in front of him. you refuse to break down right now.

"you don't want to what, suna?" you look at him, tone icy cold. "go on. tell me."

the heated environment is making his mind all cloudy and he wants to end this conversation now.

"you know what i mean, y/n. i'm going out. don't call me."

the door opens and slams shut.

the moment the door closes, you're completely still. you're running on autopilot. you find yourself making a cup of tea and sitting at the dining table, looking at the empty, lifeless apartment sprawled in front of you.

subconsciously, the tears started to roll. i guess that's it then. i think i better start packing my things. i should be gone by the time he comes back home.

meanwhile, suna makes his way downtown to the bar where some of his volleyball friends had invited him out for a couple drinks. he opens the door to the bar and he can hear the familiar rowdiness of his friends.

"well, well, well, if it ain't the infamous sunarin from ejp," a familiar blonde comes running to him. "been too long since i've seen ya stupid ass."

"yeah yeah whatever asshole," suna slaps the back of atsumu and nods over at osamu who's sitting on the table. "it's good to see you both."

as suna and atsumu head to the table in the back with the rest of his friends, his mind can't help but linger back to the argument that he had with you. but he decides to shake his mind off it.

he's here to have fun with his friends right now. not be worried about you.

"you didn't bring y/n tonight?" komori, suna's teammate, asks. "i haven't seen them in a hot minute. what've they been up to?"

what have you been up to? he doesn’t know. when was the last time we both had an actual conversation? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t even know what's been going on in your life lately. fuck this is what y/n meant.

he forces a smile, masking the bitter thoughts playing in his mind. "they're good. just doing their classes and stuff."

"ah right, well bring them by sometime! it's been too long since i've seen them. they never fail to light up the room with their presence."

"yeah you're right."

he nods, taking small sips from the beer in front of him.

as the conversation and chaos ensue among his friends, his mind keeps drifting back to the memories of the argument he walked out on. his mind has cooled off and a sense of guilt starts to take over his body.

here he is having fun with his friends while you're at home all alone, waiting for him. you just wanted to spend time with him and here he was, finding comfort in other people other than you.

he tries to remember the last time you both had gone out together but he's drawing a complete blank. he can't even remember the last time he's kissed you or held you in his hands.

no wonder you've been feeling so lonely.

and in response, he just kept brushing you off until you blew up today. and to make matters worse, he walked out of the argument giving you no sense of reassurance or closure on the matter.

at the realization, suna shoots up out of his seat with flushed cheeks. the group turns to him.

"i gotta head out for the night. i gotta see my baby."

"get a fuckin' room sunarin," osamu shouts. the rest of the groups howls in agreement. "see ya."

he waves goodbye and starts trudging his way back to the shared apartment. he expects to find you asleep so he can crawl into bed with you and cuddle, never intending on letting you go.

so you can imagine the surprise when he opens the door and sees the bedroom light on and hears rustling noises. "baby?" he calls out. "y/n?"

he takes off his shoes and coat and walks to the bedroom. he starts to internally panic at the sight in front of him.

you have a couple of suitcases out filled with your clothes and belongings. at a glance, he can see that your side of the closet is almost empty. you've even taken down a couple of the decor pieces in the room that you bought but he was never particularly interested in. with your headphones in, you’re focused on packing, but what breaks him the most is seeing you wipe your eyes as you do so. why are you even packing? where are you going?

and then it hits him.

not only did he make it seem like he didn’t want to make this relationship work, but his actions have been driving you away. fuck, this was bad. he didn't mean any of it. he has to fix it or he's gonna lose the best thing in his life for good.

he goes over to you and taps your shorted and you yelp, startled by the 6'2" man, hovering above you.

"what the hell are you doing?" suna asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.

you wipe your eyes. "i'm leaving."

"don't be ridiculous," he scoffs.

"ridiculous?" you laugh at the absurdity of his comment. "what's ridiculous is how you walk out of an argument not even wanting to work things out. what's ridiculous is how you just continue to put me aside like i’m some side piece."

he knows you’re hurting. and it’s all his fault.

he doesn’t know how to properly express everything he needs to say to you.

so in the heat of it all, he does what he thinks is the next best thing and kisses you.

you'd forgotten this feeling. his soft lips on yours and how they fit together just right. it's the softest kiss he's ever given to you and your heart swells at the gesture.

you pull away and you plop yourself on the floor to process what just happened.

right there and then, he looks at you. he really looks at you. he notices the way you have some baby hairs popping out and your cheeks feel warm from all that crying. he notices the way your eyes look slightly puffed out and the remnants of tears on your cheeks.

i'm the cause of this. this is all my fault.

"i’m sorry," he begins.

you sigh and look away mumbling to yourself. "you’ve said that before. it doesn’t change anything."

"and you’re right."

you look up at him, surprised by his admission. "w-what?"

"you’re absolutely right, y/n."

he crouches down to your level, resting his hand on your knee so he can look you in the eye.

"i shouldn't have made it seem i wasn't willing to put in the effort into making us work," he says, gesturing between you and him. "my actions and what i said to you a couple hours ago obviously made it seem that way and i'm an absolute dumbass for not picking up on it."

you’re silent. he searches your face, looking for any speck of emotion, but he still can’t read you. in the amount of time he's known you, you’ve always been the exception.

"i've been swamped with so much work lately and i know i need to do better. i spread myself so thin that i forgot to prioritize the things and the people that matter the most to me."

you're silent, unsure of what to say to him.

"i thought i was doing the best i could do until i realized i could be doing so much more for us and for you. i'm so sorry for not being here."

"i know rin," you whisper. finally, for the first time you look up from your lap to look at him. "it just felt like you didn't care about us anymore. you're the hardest worker i know but i just wish you were here sometimes."

"and i wouldn't be able to be that hard worker without your love and support, you know," his hand cups your cheek as he runs his thumb across the tear streaks on your face.

"i realize how absent i’ve been in our relationship lately and i can’t imagine how lonely you’ve been feeling. i want to make this relationship work with you. i know i suck at being sappy and shit but you really are my other half. no matter what it takes, i’ll make us work. i’ll fight for this relationship. i'll fight for us."

"oh, rin," you sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in close for a hug. the tears begin to flow from your eyes.

he feels his eyes glaze over. he breathes in your familiar scent and feels a warmth he’s missed.

even after everything, you still love him.

he starts with a gentle kiss on your cheek, then starts peppering your face with soft kisses.

you let out a watery chuckle, making his heart skip a beat. he hasn't heard your laugh in forever and he swears to himself to never be the reason for your tears again.

"let's go to bed now baby. i've gotta cuddle away all the pain i've caused you."

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved

[that-one-p00k1e]

─────〃★ for you, I wouldೃ⁀➷˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚

✧ summary: things they would do for you ft. Ren Kaji, Hajime Umemiya, Haruka Sakura, Hayato Suo, Jo Togame, Mitsuki Kiryu, Akihiko Nirei, Tasuku Tsubakino, Toma Hiragi, Yamato Endo, Chika Takiishi

✧ content: fluff, gn!reader (I think), OOC most likely, established!relationship, not proofread I'm sorry, tsubakino's pronouns are confirmed he/him ✦ a/n: HAAAAPPPYYYYY NNNNNEEEWWW YYYYEEAAARRR BBBBIITTCHHESSSSS😝😝😝😝 six months since I last posted omg-! I'm still alive! 😍 tysm for the support while I'm gone ily'all <33

—REN KAJI would turn off his music and pull down his headphones to listen to you ramble. Though he had his attention to his phone, he'd give silent nods and hums here and there to let you know that he was listening. Occasionally, he'd throw in little comments and questions regarding the topic you were telling. Little to your knowledge, your rambles to him were like taking notes. He'd mentally highlight things that he thought were important, and would keep it in mind in the future. He's the type to look nonchalant, but deep down, he cares more than he lets on. “... What's wrong?” he asked as he heard you abruptly stop talking. “Forget it.. You're not even listening.” You looked away in disappointment, letting out a quiet sigh. “But I have been listening,” he tried to reassure, feeling slightly guilty for making you feel neglected. “Really? Then repeat all the things I've been saying.” He, in fact, did repeat most things you've mentioned and justified his word.

—HAJIME UMEMIYA would gift you random bouquets every week, as if he hasn't gifted you enough already. What's special about his bouquets is that you can never guess the theme for the week. First, he started off classic – flowers, with the consideration of them being fake so that you'd be able to keep them forever. Then, he brought you a bouquet of snacks and sweets that he knew were your favorite. Next thing you knew, he's giving you a bouquet of money he's been secretly saving up on. You felt guilty; guilty for the effort he's been putting, just for you to return it with some unprofessional homemade baked goods. It felt unfair. But does he sail on the same boat? No. He's going to reassure you that he expects nothing in return, and that you being there for him and loving him was what all he ever wanted and needed.

—HARUKA SAKURA would spend his free time struggling to assemble a Lego flower bouquet set after learning about White Day. He wanted to return your gesture of gifting him during Valentine's, despite himself denying such intention. It took a lot of effort, in both figuring out what to get while fearing you wouldn't like it –to the point that he would even call over Nirei and Suo for help – and in building the tiny pieces of bricks after settling on a final decision for the gift. He persisted to build it himself, no matter how much his friends offered to help. He wanted to make sure it was his work purely, done with his own hands. The whole process was frustrating, infuriating, and was basically a test of patience. But after seeing how you kept the received bouquet in a glass vase – delicately treasuring it on your bedroom display – he has never felt so proud yet flustered his whole life.

—HAYATO SUO would waltz into the café without a care in the world while having scattered lipstick stains decorating his face. Moreover, it wasn't your idea in the first place– it was his. Your relationship wasn't out yet, and he thought, what better way to publish it than announcing it wordlessly but gives double the impact? “Hm? Oh, this? It's my beloved’s artwork. Do you like it?” he'll innocently ask when someone questions the visible lip prints. Sakura was a blushing mess, and Suo was very much enjoying the look of bewilderment from others as they received the unspoken news. This was the reaction he wanted. This was what boosted his pride furthermore in being your boyfriend, and he'd shamelessly do it again to show off his love for you to the world.

—JO TOGAME would be your personal walking object holder. He'd take your bag and sling it over his shoulder with you needless to say; he'd keep hair bands around his wrist in case you decided to tie your hair up; he'd hold your shopping bags throughout your journey at the mall. Never were you the one to request his aid first, and never has he complained about being tired. He'd even go barefoot just to lend you his footwear when your feet start to hurt in heels. Moreover, he'd carry you bridal along the way. Despite you worrying over him tiring himself, he persisted to keep ahold of you. He loves seeing you enjoy life without a care in the world, and he'd do anything to carry burdens that dare to get in the way of that enjoyment.

—MITSUKI KIRYU would deliberately lose in a game of UNO and let you take the victory when he could've won decades ago. The whole time the both of you were playing, he's been holding a Wild and Draw 4 but refrained from using them. Instead, he kept drawing cards and just went yolo to buy time. Though he always played fair, seeing your dejected expression after losing many rounds this time was a little too unbearable for him. He promised himself for once, just this once will he let himself take a loss. He knew it wouldn't be fair, but if it meant that he'll get to see you smile in victory, then he doesn't find any problem with that.

—AKIHIKO NIREI would write down even the littlest of details about you that were thrown at him. You'd be casually mentioning a trivial preference as a ramble, but never had he pulled out his notebook and pen so quickly. During his early stages of getting to know you, he made sure to memorize everything you told him about yourself; your favorite color, favorite food, dream place to go, he even looked up your zodiac sign after knowing your birth date. He doesn't mean it in a creepy way. In fact, it was his way to know how to get closer to you. Despite already having the skill to remember it all, he likes to write it down to make sure as well as for keepsake. Thanks to that, now he has a cheat sheet on how to make you smile.

—TASUKU TSUBAKINO would wear himself a nail polish color that reminds him of you. Or, moreover, your favorite color. He loved being stylish, and what better way to do it than having at least a part of you involved in it? He'd walk proudly in his heels that you got him as a gift, and was even more ecstatic if someone complimented them, proud that your taste in fashion was appreciated by others. He'd ask to trade manicures with you for a date, where the both of you choose a nail look for each other. But if you weren't into painting nails, he'll ask you to choose a look for him instead. On special or fancy occasions, he'd often wear your fav lip combo or makeup look, as he treasures your choices and views them as something precious and only to be used when necessary.

—TOMA HIRAGI would pull up to the function wearing either a Hello Kitty or Kuromi tee under his gakuran jacket. Was it his personal choice to do it? Clearly not. Was it his choice to willingly wear it for the sake of his beloved significant other? Very much so. After many attempts of pleading, he caved in and (begrudgingly) agreed to your whole ‘matching outfits’ idea. He ate a pill or two when he saw how he looked in the mirror. Then ate two more when he finally appeared in public, especially at how much Umemiya and the others teased him for it. It was embarrassing, but was it worth it? No questions needed. The beaming smile you immediately wore when seeing him agree to your shenanigans, was enough proof that it was all – undoubtedly – worth it.

—YAMATO ENDO would revel in the feeling of being the center of your attention as you placed stickers and colored in his tattoos or drew silly doodles along his body. He liked the feeling of flexing himself while having you express your inner artist onto him. He'd think of himself as your muse; the art and the artist. Once you were done, he'd be extremely careful with doing activities, afraid of your artwork smudging off at the slightest touch. Even during the shower, he makes sure not to wipe it with full pressure. He considered turning it into an actual tattoo, really. Because it would mean that he'd get to keep something of yours to be a part of him, eternally.

—CHIKA TAKIISHI would let you do his hair as you please. He was one to outright reject the idea of someone touching him, but you – you had the privilege to do as you please to him without him raising a finger to stop you. You had him wrapped around your delicate fingers, his head leaning into your touch as you smoothly ran your hands through his long locks of red that met its ends with yellow. When he saw that you did your hair the same way as his, a flicker of surprise reflected on his eyes. Though he tried to come off as indifferent, he was secretly pleased to acknowledge the fact that the both of you were matching. He'd spend the whole day with you while wearing those matching hairstyles, not caring about how others would think of him. All he could focus on was how ethereal you looked in your current look. In fact, he always thought you looked beautiful in any shape and form of physical aspects.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Werewolf Headcanons

I've been stalked by the guilty feeling that my Romanian Werewolf boy got a lot of backstory but not much romance or interaction. So there you have it: some headcanons featuring the ancient Beast, a post-kidnapping sequel.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, monster romance, mild NSFW at the end, ridiculously older yandere

You followed the gargantuan stranger back into the city, leaving the bloodbath behind as if it was just a distant dream. Admittedly, you’d expected to be dragged into some mountainous cave or an abandoned mansion, not the cozy - albeit a little dusty - apartment on a main, historical street. On second thought, he did function as a human outside of his monstrous escapades, so it made sense. “Is this your place?”, you sheepishly asked while he wiped the thick layers of blood off him. “One of them, yes”, he answered curtly. “It’s central”, you remarked, trying to make conversation. “Well, I didn’t know about it back then. It’s been a few decades.”

Your ears perked up at the words. Gazing at his features, he didn’t seem necessarily aged to you. The deep creases contouring his face felt more like a sign that he’s lived sorrows beyond most people’s comprehension. “How old are you?” You finally asked as curiosity replaced your initial fear. He abruptly stopped his movements and leaned back, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. “I’m not so sure anymore. I was born in the 80s”, he concluded. “That’s not too far back, is it?” You inquired, this time more relaxed. “80 BC, I meant. You do the math.”

He freshened himself up as you counted the millennia on your fingers, frowning in confusion. He chuckled at your intense focus, then quickly looked up into the mirror. When was the last time he smiled like this? The reflection was a foreign sight to him. “We’ll get you everything you need tomorrow”, he continued, still in a daze. What a strange idea, having someone to speak to after an eternity. And suddenly, it occurred to him just how rusted his communication had gotten: “I’m so sorry, I haven’t asked for your name once”, he said, embarrassed. “It’s (Y/N). And you are...?" Might as well introduce yourself to your benevolent captor.

The dreaded question. How did they call him back in the day? He hasn't had anyone spell it out for him, nor did he feel the need at any point to say it himself. Why would he? He hadn't anticipated meeting you. With pursed lips, he searched his mind. Eventually, from the depths or memories, from days of yore, it made its way back: "Daos."

Given your first gory encounter (where he quite literally murdered everyone else), you were surprised to find out he's otherwise a calm and polite individual. Well, he's had centuries to mature, you suppose. You've also noticed he has that rather old-fashioned chivalry to him. He's very attentive despite his stoic demeanor, and often follows with acts of service.

"You're insulting me. I can carry this myself with ease", you'll argue. "I never doubted you can. Nonetheless, it is my wish to do it for you."

As the days pass, your reluctance seems to vanish as well. In fact, you've become particularly cheeky, encouraged by his warm, unperturbed behavior. Maybe you haven't gotten the worst deal out there, after all.

"You know, you talk like an old man", you've teased him once. He was visibly taken aback by your statement, and you could discern a faint blush on his face. "Do I? My apologies, I haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. I'm not familiar with modern speech. Have I embarrassed you somehow?"

He spends his free time reading, though he will frequently take you on walks. It's an interesting affair to say the least. You can feel the curious eyes of the passersby and hear their not-so-discreet whispered gossip. You can't truly blame them: Daos is enormous even as a human. He towers above everyone else with his imposing appearance. To match, his voice is deep and coarse as a result of not using it much until recently.

The ancient werewolf is a living history book. If asked, he will narrate to you important events or details you might be curious about regarding his culture. Once, when he'd been in a good mood, he even shared fragments of his life before turning into a creature. He'd been a high-ranked Dacian warrior, spending his days training or fighting. He still remembers the flag he carried with bitter fondness, yet another irony to his fate: a wolf-headed serpent. It was meant to showcase their way of life; barbarians with no fear of death. They'd greeted the Roman Empire with nothing but a sword and a shield, no shred of doubt.

He might've been betrayed by his people, but the pride remains. The pride of a soldier who's never known defeat. You learned quickly that his beastly form doesn't count as a significant change by any means, save for appearances. The man has brute strength even as a human. You'd once strayed from his view, and a stranger approached with a daring whistle, gawking you up and down. Before you could react, Daos clawed him by the throat. You heard the twist of the skin and the creak of the bones giving in to the immense pressure of his large hand.

"It's the second time I have exposed you to such unpleasant sights", he said, discarding the body as if it was any other garbage. "Forgive me, but I will not have you disrespected like this."

He is very much aware he's taken you away from the world out of his own selfish desire. The fact that you accepted it is more than he could ever ask for. That's what he keeps telling himself, even as his eyes wander to your lips whenever you speak. Or as his hand lingers a moment too long against the curve of your back. Or as he hungrily takes in your scent whenever you're nearby.

He might be unhealthily possessive of you, but Daos will never do anything against your will. No matter how obvious his urges are. In fact, no amount of flirting or teasing will shake his resolve. You will have to be very direct with your approval.

Once the reality settles in, he'll become extremely affectionate, bordering on obsessive. To think he could have you in every way possible. Oh, he's waited thousands of years for you. All the suffering, the loneliness, the anger, they're stripped of any meaning now that he has you.

The city strolls at an awkward distance have since become a habitual excuse to hold your hand and show you off to the mortals. The quiet evenings of passing time with a book now include your merely noticeable weight cuddled into his lap. You didn't expect him to be this adoring. Being touch-starved for millennia counts as one reason, naturally, but there's more to it, so much more. And it all leads back to you.

He is a little taken aback when you ask him to do the deed in his werewolf form. "Don't be foolish. I can't overcome my instincts as well when I'm a creature. I could harm you", he'll lecture you. "Besides, you can barely take it as it currently is", he'll add, smirking at your baffled expression. It seems he's picked up on your cheekiness.

After a lot of pleading and waiting for the right moment - when he's ravaging you in a daze - he finally agrees. True to his word, his tune instantly changes. The tender hold turns into a desperate grasp sinking into your skin, and the thrusts become irregular, almost frantic. His drool cools your burning cheeks as you hold onto the coarse fur, feverish and overwhelmed.

His golden eyes rest on the small human squirming underneath him, and suddenly, he can't help but notice: you have the perfect birthing hips.

[fellominaarcher]

plsplsplspls make another idol karina x g!p idol 🥹🧎🏻‍♀️

VIBEZ ── KARINA

» » note: I'm so sorry this took me a long time to do

» » fic type: smut oneshot

» » pairing: Karina x g!p + idol!femreader

» » what's in here: mutual pining, hotel rendezvous, unresolved tension, undercurrent emotions, sex (MDNI), smut with a plot, cock and cunt mentioned, oral sex, spanking and unprotected sex.

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01:15 AM. Post-award show. Osaka.

It had been three months since that night in Room 1104. Since the kisses. The touches. The sex. The heat. The ache.

Since Jimin laid in Y/N’s arms, half-naked and glowing, lips swollen from pleasure, then walked away like nothing happened.

They never spoke again. No texts. No calls. Just silence. Hell, they weren't really that acquainted before or after that blind one night stand.

Maybe that’s how these things were meant to end, quietly. Cleanly.

Not because it was awkward, not because it was bad, hell no. That night had replayed in Y/N’s head far more often than she was proud of. Sometimes she remembered it every day. Sometimes she forgot for weeks, only for Jimin’s face to flash in her mind during the most random of moments.

But tonight, it felt like something was still… burning.

Y/N was heading back to her company van, exhausted from the awards show but still buzzing from the adrenaline. Her group, Celestial, had won one of the big ones, and even though she was smiling and waving, her thoughts were elsewhere.

Maybe it was the city lights. Maybe it was the backless dress Jimin wore during her stage. Or maybe it was just that tonight felt like the right night.

And tonight?

Tonight, Y/N didn’t want to think anymore. She just wanted to see her.

Fuck it.

So a few hours earlier, somewhere between the post-show adrenaline crash and the van ride back to the hotel, Y/N had sent Jimin a message:

I’m in Osaka tonight too. Wanna hang out or do we keep pretending we don’t know each other?

It was bold. Risky. Very not-her. She expected silence.

But Jimin replied.

I'm too tired to move anywhere.

It's really late too...

Meet me at my hotel, I've got popcorns ;((

A grin had pulled at Y/N’s lips the second she read it. She quickly typed back a short okay, asked for the room number, and added a flower emoji at the end just because she could. Just because it felt right.

──────────────────────

It didn’t even take 15 minutes for Y/N to arrive at the hotel aespa was staying at for the night. She moved through the empty lobby with ease, hoodie up, mask on, eyes focused. Her heart, however, was doing the absolute most.

It wasn’t nerves.

It was… that feeling. The feeling you get when you're about to see someone you shouldn't be this excited about. Someone who shouldn’t make you feel like you’re seventeen and about to kiss your crush behind a gym.

Room 907.

Y/N stood at the door, her hand hovering near it, then quickly gave Jimin a phone call to let her know she was here.

Click. The door unlocked from the inside. The door swung open gently, and there she was.

Yoo Jimin. Standing barefoot in black sweatshorts and a baby tee that hugged her waist just enough to tempt. Her dark hair was messily tied into a low ponytail, and the glow from the hallway light behind her lit the edges of her face like a dream.

When she saw Y/N’s face, that easy, pretty smile bloomed across her lips, it was unfiltered, soft, real.

“You’re here,” she said, like it meant something. Maybe it did.

Y/N's hands were shoved in her hoodie pockets, but her smile was anything but shy. “Told you I would be.”

They stood there for a second. Just… staring.

Jimin didn’t know why, but she kept staring. Kept taking in the sight of Y/N standing there like a damn scene. Something inside her had perked up. Lit up. She'd spent all evening dancing under bright lights, but this was what made her feel warm.

“Come in,” Jimin said quietly, stepping aside.

Y/N did, slipping off her sneakers at the entrance and pulling her hoodie over her head, revealing a plain white tee and the slight curve of her forearms—veins visible, skin warm.

Jimin watched her move and hated how easily her thoughts spiraled. How is she hotter than I remembered?

Y/N’s eyes scanned her face. “You look tired.”

“You look dangerous,” Jimin replied without missing a beat.

Y/N chuckled, cheeks warming. “You’re the one who invited me to your room, remember?” which earned a small nod from Jimin.

Jimin finally stepped aside, and Y/N walked in, the door clicking shut behind her.

The room was cozy, it was a warm yellow lighting, hotel-grade minimalism, a neatly folded bed, and yes... a half-eaten bag of popcorn on the table.

“You actually do have popcorn,” Y/N laughed, dropping onto the small couch beside the window.

“Told you,” Jimin said, walking to the mini-fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. She tossed one to Y/N before plopping down beside her on the couch.

For a few moments, they just sat—quiet, peaceful, watching the city skyline from the glass.

“I thought about texting you,” Jimin finally said.

Y/N looked at her. “Yeah?” she raised a brow, boldly looking into Jimin's eyes.

Jimin's eyes gazed back into Y/N's eyes. “Almost did. So many times. Just didn’t know if you’d want to talk. Or if it’d be weird.” the aespa leader answered, studying Y/N's features.

Y/N opened her bottle, took a slow sip. “It is weird. But I still wanted to see you.”

Jimin smiled faintly. “Same.”

Silence again. This time a little heavier. A little slower. Then Jimin tilted her head, resting it against Y/N’s shoulder. “You smell the same.”

Y/N’s heart jumped in her chest. “That a good thing?” she let out a chuckle, an almost awkward one.

“Mmhmm. It made me remember... a lot.”

Y/N didn’t respond, but she slowly let her arm wrap around Jimin’s waist, pulling her a little closer.

Familiar. Warm. Like they’d done this before. Because they had. And it didn’t feel wrong. Not at all.

Y/N's heart was pounding.

She could feel the weight of Jimin's head on her shoulder, feel the soft rise and fall of her breath, the way her skin warmed every inch it touched. It was soft. Intimate. Infuriating.

This woman is crazy, Y/N thought to herself. It’s like she’s got everything I want without even trying.

Everything about Jimin... her perfume, her breath, the soft weight of her palm resting absentmindedly near Y/N’s thigh. It was enough to make Y/N feel like she was starving. Starving for closeness, for more of her. Like some kind of touch-deprived masochist who finally got the first taste of what she wanted.

And fuck, she remembered. She remembered everything about that night.

The way Jimin felt under her fingers. The way she moaned when Y/N hit just the right angle. How her legs wrapped tight around Y/N’s waist like she never wanted to let go.

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, fighting the grin that threatened to spill. She was gonna lose it at this rate. Her right leg was bouncing. Heart racing. Palms warm.

She didn’t remember feeling this restless last time. No, this was new. And it wasn’t just lust.

It was... more.

Dangerous. Addictive. Something you fall into headfirst and hope you survive on the way out.

“I remember a lot too,” Y/N said, eyes fixed on the wall, voice low and rough like she was holding something back. “Your face. Your voice. Everything.”

Jimin shifted against her, lifting her head and turning slightly on the couch. She tucked one leg under the other, her baby tee rising just a bit with the movement and Y/N caught the glimpse of her bare thigh and promptly forgot how to breathe.

Jimin was staring at her now. Fully. Soft brown eyes wide and curious, that slight smirk starting to form.

“Oh?” she said, one brow lifting. “You like that?”

That tone. That Jimin tone—teasing, flirtatious, a little too confident. The one that dug under your skin and made you feel like you were playing a losing game you didn’t want to win.

Y/N shrugged, though it took all her control not to let her own smirk grow wider. She leaned further back into the couch, sinking like the cushions could protect her.

“I do,” she said casually, “...and I thought you said there were popcorns here, Jimin? What kind of broke hangout is this?”

Jimin snorted. “Oh, now you want the popcorn?” She pushed herself off the couch with a groan, exaggerating her movements as if she were sooo put-upon.

Y/N tilted her head to watch her walk away—slow, legs on full display, that sweat shorts just barely covering the curve of her ass. The Celestial member ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek.

“Don’t forget the seasoning,” Y/N added, voice lazy. “I only hang out with girls who know how to flavor things.”

Jimin glanced over her shoulder, her smile sharp like a blade hidden behind lipstick. “You’re lucky I’m not kicking you out.”

“Trust me,” Y/N muttered under her breath, “I’m very lucky.”

Jimin grabbed the bag of popcorn off the table, then walked back over, still holding eye contact like she knew she had Y/N hooked and wasn’t letting her go. She dropped the bag between them on the couch.

“Here,” she said, “snack. Maybe that’ll shut you up.”

Y/N reached over, plucked a single piece out, then popped it into her mouth. “I don’t usually eat with girls I’ve already seen naked. But for you, I’ll make an exception.”

Jimin looked at her, deadpan. Then slowly smiled.

They both leaned back against the couch again, this time shoulders almost pressing, thighs were close to touching. The tension between them was no longer simmering, it was crackling. Every breath felt intentional. Every glance lasted a second too long.

And then, Jimin turned her head. Eyes locked on Y/N’s mouth. “Y/N.” Jimin called out.

The Celestial idol’s gaze flicked up. “Yeah?”

“Nothing,” Jimin responded with a small smile on her lips, shaking her head and her voice was almost an inaudible whisper, her eyes never leaving Y/N's face.

Y/N was no longer chewing on the popcorn and she nodded her head slowly, she probably was mentally undressing Yoo Jimin and the amount of eye contact was making her melt into her spot.

Jimin held the bag out to her, eyes still on Y/N as she plucked a single piece and tossed it into her mouth. “You went all the way up here just for this?”

“I went up here because you said you missed me.”

“I said I had popcorn.”

“Same thing.”

Jimin snorted softly, chewing, eyes glinting. “What else did I say?”

Y/N plucked her own piece from the bag. “Something about not being able to move because your legs were tired.”

“Mhm.” Jimin stepped just a little closer. “Still tired, actually.”

“Should I carry you back to the bed?” Y/N asked, voice a little lower now.

“I don’t trust you with heavy lifting.”

“I think I handled you just fine last time.”

Jimin leaned in—closer, slower, eyes never leaving hers. Her hand found its way to Y/N’s thigh, palm light but intentional.

And then, like she couldn’t stop herself even if she tried...

She kissed her. Warm. Soft. Familiar. But this time, there was something different. Something yearning.

Like she had spent the last three months pretending she didn’t miss this, but she did. God, she did.

Y/N kissed her back instantly, hand rising to cup the back of Jimin’s neck, the popcorn bag falling forgotten to the floor as their mouths moved together—slow, deep, teasing.

Tongues brushed. Breaths tangled.

And somewhere between the second and third kiss, Jimin shifted her body and climbed onto Y/N’s lap, straddling her, plain white tee riding up with the movement.

“I was thinking about you,” she breathed out against her lips, hips slowly rolling once against Y/N’s lap, “way too much for someone I was supposed to forget.”

Y/N swallowed hard, eyes dark now. “I'd love to make you remember, Yoo Jimin.”

Jimin smiled, hands fisting the collar of Y/N’s t-shirt, forehead pressing against hers. “Then remind me again,” she whispered, eyes half-lidded.

The aespa member closed her eyes, leaning in once more to press her lips against Y/N’s, this time slower, deeper. There was a smile on her lips while she kissed, like she couldn’t believe how good this felt.

Y/N pulled her closer, hand sliding around Jimin’s waist, holding her tight like she never wanted to let her go. And maybe she didn’t.

Their tongues met again, a hot, lazy slide, and Jimin moaned quietly into the kiss. It was soft, but it meant something, the kind of noise you make when you’ve missed someone without realizing it.

Her lips were plush, warm, wet. The kind of kiss that starts sweet but turns greedy because the moment their tongues touched, Jimin tilted her head and deepened it. Slowly. Sensually. Like she wanted to drown in it.

Y/N’s hands slid down to grip Jimin’s waist, holding her tightly, possessively. She wasn’t letting this woman go... not now, not tonight. Jimin was hers tonight.

Maybe longer.

If the universe allowed.

But it was too good. Too much. The tension in Y/N’s stomach was unbearable, like it was going to snap. She pulled away for a breath, trying to regain a sliver of control, and pushed lightly—intent on flipping Jimin beneath her.

But the aespa leader knew better.

Jimin immediately cupped Y/N’s face, drawing her back in, their lips brushing, hot breath shared.

“Why don’t you behave,” Jimin whispered, her voice so low and seductive it made Y/N’s core pulse. “Then you’ll have me all night long. I’ll let you ruin me.”

She gently bit Y/N’s bottom lip, tugging it between her teeth with a teasing whimper then slowly licked the sting away, lips dragging, almost lazily tracing the shape of Y/N’s mouth.

It was infuriatingly hot.

Y/N’s hands were already trembling, fighting to keep still while their hips naturally started grinding together, desperation bleeding through every roll. It was slow and heavy, clothed for now, but the friction was maddening.

Moans began to escape. Low. Breathless. Needy.

The room felt hotter by the second. The air dense, clouded in lust. Someone had to move or they’d combust.

And it was Jimin who started undressing first.

She reached for the hem of her baby tee, pulling it up in one swift, almost angry motion, tossing it somewhere across the couch. Y/N immediately followed by grabbing the edges of her own white tee, pulling it off as well before reaching for Jimin again.

Their lips crashed together.

Y/N kissed her hard this time, all tongue and open-mouth groaning. Her hands roamed Jimin’s bare back, dragging fingernails lightly down her skin until she reached the clasp of her bra.

It came undone easily. Too easily. Like her body had been waiting for this.

Y/N peeled it off slowly, watching. Eyes glued to Jimin’s chest, mouth parting slightly when her full breasts spilled free.

Y/N stared for a moment too long, her breath caught in her throat. “Fuck,” she murmured. “You’re not real.”

“Then touch me before I disappear,” Jimin whispered, flushed, while Y/N letting the bra drop somewhere to the floor.

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice.

She pushed Jimin gently onto the couch, until the idol was laid out, her long hair splayed over the cushion, eyes wide, mouth already open like she was about to moan.

The Celestial member leaned in and kissed Jimin's neck, warm and wet, trailing her lips slowly down to Jimin’s collarbone, where she bit lightly. Then lower. Her tongue slid between the valley of her breasts, her breath hot against skin.

Y/N crouched in between of Jimin's legs and then she took one nipple into her mouth, lips wrapping around the soft peak.

Jimin gasped, tilting her head back as Y/N sucked slowly, tongue swirling. Her hand came up to cradle the other breast, thumb brushing lazily over the other nipple. She moaned, body arching toward the contact, fingers curling into Y/N’s hair.

“F-fuck, baby...” she breathed.

Y/N smiled against her skin, then kissed lower. Down Jimin’s ribs. Her stomach. Each kiss soft but sinful, like a promise. When she reached Jimin’s hips, she tugged at the waistband of her shorts.

“Lift,” Y/N said.

Jimin obeyed without a word.

Y/N pulled her shorts and panties down in one motion, dragging the cloth down Jimin’s legs until she was completely bare and flushed, breathless, and already so wet she was glistening.

Y/N spread her thighs gently with both hands, kissed the inside of one, then the other, before licking a slow stripe up the center of her pussy.

Jimin whimpered. Loud. Her hands clutched the back of the couch, head falling back, chest rising and falling like a heartbeat.

Y/N licked again, slower this time. Letting her tongue linger on Jimin’s clit before sucking gently, then pulling back to kiss her inner thighs once more. Whatever to please that needy, wet cunt of hers.

And then Jimin suddenly tugged at Y/N’s hoodie, breathless and wide-eyed. “Take it off,” she panted. “Let me see you, all of you.”

Y/N stood between Jimin’s legs, towering over her slightly, and pulled her pants and boxers, letting them fall in one motion. And there it was—her cock, already hard and leaking, thick veins running along the shaft, tip flushed and pink. The air in the room shifted.

Jimin’s pupils dilated. Her legs fell wider open. “Oh fuck,” she whispered.

Y/N flashed a small smile, stroking herself once, slow and teasing. “Still want me to behave?”

Jimin’s eyes glazed over. She reached to wrap her hand around it, thumb smearing precum across the head, and Y/N let out a groan, bucking slightly into her touch.

“Get on top of me. Now.” Jimin ordered.

Y/N kneeled onto the couch again, fitting herself between Jimin’s thighs, her tip brushing through Jimin’s wetness and making them both shudder. She leaned in to kiss her again, slow and deep.

Jimin wrapped her arms around her neck and whispered, “I want you inside me.”

Y/N held her gaze and then she moved between them, lined herself up, and slowly pushed in. Slow. Thick. Stretching. Jimin felt full and her lips parted around a silent moan, her fingers digging into Y/N’s back.

Y/N bottomed out, chest pressing against hers, forehead pressed together. “You’re so fucking tight, Jimin,” Y/N groaned. “So perfect.”

Jimin gasped, eyes shut tightly. “Fuck me.”

And she did.

Thrusting slowly at first, hips rolling in a deep, controlled rhythm. The couch creaked. Their skin slapped together softly with each push. Jimin’s legs wrapped around her waist and pulled her in deeper, nails clawing lightly down her back.

Y/N pressed her lips to Jimin’s ear, panting. “Tell me you missed this.” a light gasp escaped Y/N's mouth.

“I did,” Jimin moaned, voice shaking. “I missed you.” the pleasure was very much needed.

Y/N rocked into her harder, pace picking up. Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut, moaning loud now, no shame. One hand slid between them and rubbed her own clit in circles to match Y/N’s rhythm.

Y/N rocked into her harder, pace picking up. Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut, moaning loud now, no shame. One hand slid between them and rubbed her own clit in circles to match Y/N’s rhythm.

The sound was wet, raw, needy that it filled the room like a secret song.

Y/N kissed her again, messy, open-mouthed, tongues clashing. And then she whispered against her lips. “I’m not stopping until I fuck the memory of me into you.”

They had been in that position for a while—Jimin on her back, legs wrapped tightly around Y/N’s waist, nails raking across her toned back as Y/N drove her hips forward with firm, hungry thrusts.

The pace was relentless now. Each stroke made Jimin whimper, moan, bite her lower lip, and whisper Y/N’s name like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

“Fuck, right there,” she gasped, her voice cracking as Y/N filled her to the brim, each stroke rubbing against the exact spot inside her that made her arch her back. “Y/N, you feel so good…”

Y/N gritted her teeth, sweat glistening on her skin as she rocked her hips harder. Her mouth dropped open at the way Jimin clenched around her, soaking wet and warm, so unbelievably tight.

But she needed more. She wanted to see her. Break her a little. See what her face looked like when she was fucked from behind. No control, just raw sensation.

Y/N pulled out, breathing hard. Jimin whined at the sudden emptiness, blinking up at her with hazy, glassy eyes.

“Turn around,” Y/N rasped, voice low and wrecked.

Jimin obeyed with shaky limbs, face pressed into the couch cushions, her perfect ass arching up without hesitation. Her knees dug into the fabric, legs spread open, flushed, soaked.

Y/N exhaled a holy fuck under her breath at the sight. She knelt behind her, grabbed Jimin’s hips, and slid in again slowly, letting her cock press into the same dripping heat but from an entirely new angle.

The moment Y/N pushed all the way in, Jimin let out the sexiest moan she had ever made that night, it was raw, sharp, head buried into the cushion as her back arched deeper.

“Yes, yes, yes... fuck, Y/N,” she gasped, voice muffled and so needy.

Y/N started slow. Rolling her hips, grinding into her, letting the head of her cock kiss that perfect, dangerous spot over and over again.

“God, baby,” she groaned, fingers digging into Jimin’s ass, “You’re tighter like this. You’re fucking squeezing me...”

Jimin’s knees buckled slightly. She could barely hold herself up, mouth open against the cushion.

“Don’t stop. Fuck me like that... just like that...”

A sharp spank landed on Jimin’s ass and she yelped, face burying into the pillow as another moan slipped out.

“Fuck, do it again…”

Y/N slapped her again, her palm leaving a faint red mark that made her cock twitch inside Jimin.

She was close. Too close. Her hips stuttered, a groan tearing out of her chest. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum... Jimin,"

With barely a second left, Y/N pulled out, stroking herself with rough, quick pumps, and her climax hit, spilling hot, thick cum right at Jimin’s entrance, painting the lips of her pussy, just barely missing going inside.

Jimin collapsed against the couch, trembling, skin flushed and her cunt throbbing with emptiness.

Y/N leaned in, her breath heavy, sweat dripping down her back and kissed Jimin on the shoulder before sinking to her knees behind her. She spread her open again with both hands and dove in with her tongue, licking up her own cum off Jimin’s thighs and kissing her way up to that soaked, aching cunt.

The moment Y/N’s tongue swiped over her clit, Jimin sobbed out loud. “FUCK, yesyesyes, don’t stop... please,” her eyes shut tightly and her fists balled, feeling absolute bliss.

Y/N sucked, circled, flicked, her tongue moving in rhythm, two fingers slipping inside, curling into the soaked heat as Jimin shook and cried out, body trembling from overstimulation.

“Jimin…” Y/N moaned into her, licking harder, rougher.

“Oh god, I’m... shit!”

Jimin came with her face buried in the pillow, moaning Y/N’s name like a mantra, her thighs were lightly shaking, body arching off the couch as her orgasm crashed through her like lightning.

Y/N sat up slowly, face shining with wetness and pride, and pulled Jimin into her arms with both of them sweaty, shaky, but so damn high off each other’s bodies.

“You’re insane,” Jimin whispered, voice hoarse.

“And you’re too fucking good,” Y/N murmured, brushing her lips over her temple.

The room was quiet again except for their breathing. Their bodies, tangled on the couch. Clothes forgotten on the floor. They didn’t need to say much more. Because now, it wasn’t just sex, maybe. It was something deeper, maybe. And they both knew... This wasn’t the last time.

──────────────────────

The next morning

“Why are we even going to Jimin’s room again?” Minjeong groaned as she rubbed one eye, her hoodie barely covering the tangled mess of her bleached hair.

Aeri yawned dramatically. “Because someone... Jimin was supposed to order breakfast for the team and we haven't heard from her since last night. I’m starving.”

“Girl, you’re always starving.” Yizhuo deadpanned, clutching her iced coffee cup like her life depended on it. “We could’ve just sent a text.”

“We did,” Aeri said, jabbing the elevator button, “but your favorite unnie’s been ghosting us since 1AM. Probably passed out.”

“Oh please,” Minjeong rolled her eyes as the elevator dinged open. “Or passed out on a TV series.”

That earned a round of tired giggles as they shuffled out onto the hallway floor, sock-slippered and makeup-free, all three dressed like off-duty girlies who were barely surviving post-schedule exhaustion.

They turned the corner toward Jimin’s room, still mid-laugh and froze.

Standing at the door of Room 907, leaning casually against the doorframe like it was her own personal balcony, Yoo Jimin was in sweats and a loose shirt…

Smiling.

Smiling in that I-had-a-fucking-amazing-night kind of way, her voice soft as she murmured something to the person in front of her.

And that person? Y/N from Celestial.

Hair damp from a fresh shower. Wearing yesterday’s hoodie. Looking way too good for someone who definitely didn’t get eight hours of sleep.

“Oh my God.” Yizhuo blinked.

Aeri stopped dead in her tracks, her hand instinctively rising to her mouth in slow-mo. “No way.”

Minjeong’s jaw dropped open just slightly.

Y/N turned at that exact moment, eyes meeting the three stunned aespa girls who stood in a perfect, horrified triangle.

“Morning, girls,” Y/N said coolly, voice smooth, giving a small respectful bow.

She smiled just a bit like she knew then walked past them casually, phone in hand, scent lingering like scandal itself.

No words. No explanations.

As the three girls slowly turned back toward their leader—Jimin, who was still leaning against the door, lips curved, arms crossed. “Oh,” she said, tone light. “You’re all up early.”

“Are we not gonna talk about the fact you literally escorted her out like you just tucked her in last night?” Aeri’s voice cracked.

Jimin just shrugged with a lazy smile, reaching for the door handle like she had all the time in the world. “We had popcorn,” she said simply, refusing to elaborate further.

“What...?!”

“Wait here, I'll go get my bag,” Then? She closed the door right in their stunned little faces.

“…Popcorn?!” Minjeong wheezed.

“THAT’S NOT EVEN—” Yizhuo’s voice rose.

“Holy shit.” Aeri whispered. “She got laid.”

──────────────────────

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[miss-artimis-has-thoughts]

A thought that's been bouncing in my head this post but dead tired.

-

As Dick was walking back to the zeta tubes in the watch tower after meeting with Wally, he did not expect his entire world view to be flipped on its head. It started with hearing the voice of one of his brothers and deciding to mess with him. Tim was in one of the lounge rooms talking with Diana, which gave Dick the perfect opportunity to pull him into the ongoing sibling prank war that he had somehow been avoiding. He waited outside the door, listening for the right moment when he heard the question.

"The league's family day is coming up. Will your husband and the twins be attending?" Dicks first thought was that he must have missed a third person in the room before he heard his brother response. "I don't know, the twins would love it, but Phantom is still wary about taking them too far from home in case they have a destabilization episode or a development in their powers."

Dick knew that the conversation continued, but he had stopped paying attention. Tim was married. He had kids. Did anyone know? Obviously, Wonder Woman did, but did anyone in the family? He needed to figure this out. He sent a message calling for a family meeting sans Tim to figure out what was happening

-

Tim had been stressed the past few days. He didn't say anything, but Danny could tell. So, when the twins went down for their nap, he made his husband a nice cup of tea, decaffeinated because a stressed Tim was a Tim that had been awake far too long. As he gave his husband the cup, he asked what was wrong. "The bats have been acting weird the last couple of days. It's made patrol really awkward. But I'm pretty sure it's a family thing, so it feels wrong to ask." Danny laughed "Ah the age-old dilemma of being the only nonfamily member working at a family business. Happens all the time in small towns like Amity. What do you think you'll do?" Tim sighed "Normally I would just ask Oracle, but she's being weird too. And I can't just ignore it because it's throwing us all off during patrol and that dangerous. I guess I'll just have to call a meeting to address it."

Danny hugged his husband, "I'm sorry, work is stressful, Starlight. You're not supposed to patrol tonight, right? How about you call in at your day job tomorrow and we have some family time? I've been researching this nature trail about half an hour from my parents' house. It's got some great outlooks that I think you would love to get pictures from. We could go through the zone and be at my parents' first thing in the morning."

*continued in reblogs

[kxsagi]

HIIII sorry for literally flooding your inbox but I just remembered a convo I had with a classmate a few years ago. She posted like a photo and she was wearing men's boxers and she was like "Yeah it's pretty common for girls to wear guys boxers" and I was like ??? I learn something new everyday. Anyways! Can you imagine bllk boys (Or just isagi, or your other favs or anyone honestly I'm not picky 🫶🫶) that are dating you and then they come home to see you wearing their boxers and they're just like 😳😳??? Thank you! Love you and your works muah muah ♥️♥️

“𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐬”

a/n: boys’ boxers are mad comfy for no reason 

also thank you so much and i love you moreee, mwah mwah mwah!

(additionally, dear pretty readers, apologies for the lack of posts, i've been super busy lately so thank you for your patience! 🥹)

suggestive content inside! 

ft. itoshi rin, kaiser michael, nagi seishiro, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae, isagi yoichi, mikage reo, bachira meguru

itoshi rin

he walks in post-training, dead tired and cranky, hoodie over his head and duffel bag hanging off his shoulder like he’s about to file a lawsuit against sunlight, but then he sees you. 

you. in his boxers. just his boxers. oversized, hanging loose on your hips, cinched up where the elastic clings to your skin. 

and you’re just standing in the kitchen like this is normal. like you’re not wearing the very same pair he had on two days ago. 

he stops in his tracks like he just walked in on a crime scene. “... what the hell are you wearing?” you blink. “your boxers. why?” “where are your clothes?” you smirk. “laundry.” 

rin looks like he’s buffering. he opens his mouth. nothing comes out. then finally: “you couldn’t just wear… pants?” “but these are yours,” you say sweetly. “they smell like you.” 

he turns red all the way to his ears. turns away. mutters something like “don’t say weird stuff,” but trips over his own duffel bag because he’s too busy looking at your thighs in the reflection on the microwave. 

he doesn’t say another word, just vanishes to the bathroom. (comes back five minutes later, dry-throated and slightly more disheveled.) 

(he’ll be requesting you wear those boxers again next time he’s home.) 

kaiser michael

kaiser walks in humming, coat slung over one shoulder, sunglasses still on because he’s him, obviously, and freezes when he sees you laying on the couch. in his boxers. legs sprawled, shirt half-riding up, scrolling on your phone like nothing is happening. 

he literally drops his jacket. 

"oh? ohhh? is this what we’re doing now?” 

he walks over dramatically and grabs the waistband, snapping it lightly against your skin with a grin. “you know those are mine, right? ‘cause they look illegal on you.” 

you look up innocently. “do they? i mean, they were just sitting in your drawer...” 

he leans down until he’s hovering above you. “yeah. and now i’m sitting on you. fair game.” 

kaiser’s brain is already in the gutter. fully immersed. 

starts fake-scolding you, “you’re corrupting me. corrupting my poor boxers. they were innocent–” “they have skulls and roses on them.” “innocent.” 

he keeps leaning closer and closer until you're giggling and shoving his face away. 

convinces you to let him take pictures for “research purposes,” but ends up just staring at them in his gallery like a down bad man. 

nagi seishiro

you didn’t expect nagi to come home early. 

so you’re just chilling in bed, snacks beside you, phone in hand, and wearing his boxers like pajamas. his soft gray ones. the kind he always says are his favorite. he walks in. sees you. and just. collapses. 

“... woah.” 

drops face first onto the mattress like a weighted corpse. wraps an arm around your waist and mumbles, “you look so good like this… it’s kinda unfair.” you snort. “they’re just boxers.” “yeah, and you made them sexy. how’d you do that?” 

he starts tracing his fingers over the waistband, tugging at it lazily. "they look better on you. keep ‘em." 

until he wants them back. then he’s like: “wanna trade? i wear yours, you wear mine, and we just never wear our own clothes again.” 

fully down to switch wardrobes. 

you call him a perv. he goes “mmm. true.” 

shidou ryusei

you wearing his boxers is equivalent to pressing the self-destruct button on shidou. 

he walks in, sees you in them, and physically stumbles backward. like you hit him with a truck. "HO-LY SHIT." hands on his head. mouth open. eyes wide. “you’re wearing those? babe, those are my tight ones.” 

he kneels like you’re some divine entity. "i am so blessed. i am so unworthy. oh my gosh–” you kick him lightly in the chest. he flops onto the floor like he’s been shot. 

“is this foreplay?” he asks, starry-eyed. “it feels like foreplay.” “i was just cleaning the house.” “well now i need cleansing because i’m having unholy thoughts.” 

he starts suggesting couples outfits made out of each other’s underwear. 

you’re crying from laughter. he’s genuinely taking notes. 

itoshi sae

you don’t think much of it, just slipped on his boxers after your shower and started folding laundry. 

he walks in, drops his keys, and just stares. doesn’t say a word. 

"hey," you greet casually. “...” "what?" "... i’m just wondering if you're trying to kill me.” 

he sounds bored. but he’s not. 

he’s looking you up and down like he’s trying to analyze exactly how you made boxers look like lingerie. 

you bend over to grab more laundry and he immediately looks away, like his own eyeballs betrayed him. 

mutters under his breath: “do that again and i’m not gonna be responsible for what happens.” 

he ends up walking around the apartment muttering curses and avoiding eye contact like he’s in catholic school. but the second you make a move toward the bedroom, he’s following. silently. with a mission. 

isagi yoichi

isagi comes home after a long, sweaty day of practice and finds you in the hallway. wearing his boxers and one of his practice shirts. his brain immediately blue screens. 

“h-hold on, uh… hi? wait, are those–” “your boxers? yeah.” he full-on chokes on his water bottle. 

he tries to play it cool. he fails. the man is red from his ears to his collarbone. 

"they look, uh, cute. no– you look cute. not that you don’t normally, but like, extra– not that i’m thinking weird stuff!!” (he is absolutely thinking weird stuff.) 

sits down on the couch and folds a pillow over his lap. watches you walk around the apartment like you’re a walking temptation. 

finally caves: “okay, but like… if you ever wanted to wear my jersey with them…” 

he’s got ideas. and regrets. and a very large blushing problem. 

mikage reo

reo does not handle it well. 

you think he would. he’s usually cool. confident. smooth. but the moment he walks in and sees you in his favorite pair, he physically stumbles like he forgot how to use his legs. 

he throws his keys. “OKAY??? MA’AM??” 

“relax, reo. they’re just boxers.” “just boxers? those are silk. they’re top tier. imported. limited edition. they cost like– actually, i forgot, but a lot.” “and now they’re mine.” 

he’s spiraling. spinning. taking mental photos. actual photos. 

“you can’t just be hot in my things and walk around like it’s not a whole event.” 

he’s pacing the room while ranting and complimenting you at the same time. 

“you good?” “no. absolutely not. take responsibility for what you’ve done.” 

next day, he buys you ten new pairs. all his size. all just for you. and he labels the drawer: “property of sugar baby (not up for debate)” 

bachira meguru

bachira walks in, eyes already wide and bright, and when he sees you in his boxers, he howls. throws his arms in the air and yells, “I WINNNNN!!” “what???” “I WIN IN LIFEEE!!” 

starts sprinting around the apartment, then dives onto the couch next to you. 

“meguru, calm down–” “no. i refuse. you’re wearing my boxers. i’m gonna cry. you look so good i’m gonna EXPLODE.” 

rubs his face into your thighs like a happy dog. 

asks you if he can borrow your clothes so he can “match the vibe.” 

comes out of the closet five minutes later wearing your shorts backwards and your crop top upside down. “do i look hot yet?” you laugh so hard you fall over. he falls with you. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[dontpulloutman]

spring seventeen (2).

tags: owen taylor x reader. the starling girl. Owen Taylor Is His Own Warning. a/n: *clicks post and runs* … i hope u guys like this

(masterlist)

On the next field trip with the youth group, you take the chance to slip away. The yellow shirt itches on your skin. If you let your eyes close for too long, if you let your mind wander too far, you'll start thinking of Owen. How he left when he used to promise that he would never leave you alone.

He's a liar.

Your reverie is broken by the jingle of a bell above you. Behind the counter, a girl in her early 20s with bright blue hair looks up from her phone. You can feel the heavy stare on your shirt. Then she looks back down as casually as she could. With a deep breath and shaking hands, you walk up to her. Chest and palms pressed against the cold display case, you clear your throat.

"How can I help you?" She takes her attention away from her phone.

"I've been feeling sick a lot lately. And I threw up a few hours ago."

She takes a clipboard from beside the cash register, "Any allergies?" you shake your head no. "Fever?" you shake your head again.

She takes another quick look at the text printed on your stupid yellow shirt. "Sexually active?"

You take a pause. The lump in your throat refuses to let you speak. Through tears, you catch how her own eyes soften. You're speechless when she opens a drawer and places a rectangular box on the counter.

"There's a bathroom near the back."

"Satan has its grasp on you," she moves her accusing finger from your face to the small swell of your belly, "And that creature is its abomination. You are ruined!"

"Momma," you raise your hands, palms open, pleading, "Please, momma..."

She flinches back as if your touch would burn. As if you were the devil itself. "You stay away from me!" she shrieks. Gasping back a cry, you try to get closer to her. You're sorry. You're so sorry. You haven't been sorry yet.

"Get out of my house."

It brings a chill down your spine. Like a coward, you shrink into yourself. Like a mother, you move your hands to protect and cradle the life growing inside you.

"You better leave before your father comes back. Lord knows what he'll do if he sees you like this."

Your spine goes rigid. And then, almost stubbornly, you turn away. And then, you run. You run like its all you've ever known to do.

"What a raging bitch!"

You curl into the pillow pressed against your chest. Eyes following the girl pacing across linoleum tiles. It's only been a week since that fateful day, but she already has platinum streaks in the blue of her hair.

You didn't expect her to be so accommodating. Showing up at her parents' pharmacy on a random Wednesday evening. She quickly brought you in, ushered you into her basement bedroom, screamed a "Don't disturb us!" before she prodded at you to tell her what's going on.

"I can't believe she'd do that to her own daughter!" You can feel the rage in her voice.

"It's fine," you try to placate her. It doesn't work.

"No, the fuck, it isn't! I mean–" she stutters, at a loss for words. She parts her lips to continue her tirade, a new string of curses toward your mother, when she realizes the tears forming in your eyes. She immediately sags at the look on your face.

"What do you wanna do?" She says. Instead of more hate, more profanities, more choice words about your 'cunt of a mother'.

"I want to keep the baby."

"You have other options," she gently reminds you. But the thought of it is bitter. Less than five weeks, and yet you know you won't ever let this child go. The babe is a sacrament of the love you once had.

"I can't... I want... I need to keep it."

Joanna sits on the bed beside you. Slowly, but with such tender care, she places a hand on your knee. "Okay, babes. That's your choice."

There's a moment of silence.

"Do you know any way to contact the father?"

He's completely and utterly fucked. Waking up alone on a random motel bed, only to find that his truck (his one-way ticket out of dodge) was missing from where he parked it last night. He's tried to call the cheap cell he bought for Jemima, only for it to beep in his ear. Out of service, out of range. He's in deep shit. Running his hands through his hair, he lists down all of his options.

Hell has to burn over before he returns back home. And without his truck to sell, he won't have enough money to afford a ticket back to Puerto Rico. Unless... He's quick to go through his duffel bag, deep into its inner pocket, where his old notebook lays tucked away.

In it, there's a slip of paper. Worn and tattered, an envelope with its seal still intact. The words inside having been accessed by a letter opener. Obvious through the jagged cut at the seam. Like a source of salvation, the light at the end of the tunnel, there it is.

It was sacrilegious. But with the taste of his gasps and the press of his lips, you knew you were on sacred ground. Leaning across the console of his truck, with his hands in your hair, and the dangle of your Benedictine medallion, you are reborn.

Owen pulls away, his palms against your cheeks. There’s a furrow to his brow. With a gasp, your cheeks turn red. His jaw moves, chewing. “Is this gum?”

You nod. How sordid to think of it. Candy passing from one’s lips to another. It’s downright sinful.

“I didn’t notice you chewing it the entire drive,” he comments, almost thoughtful while he plays with the candy in his mouth.

“I like mint.”

He chuckles, looking out the window. “You always taste like mint.”

(Are you chewing gum? Spit it out.)

Infatuated, like a school girl with a crush, you bashfully ask, “Do you like it?”

He’s leaning across the console again, grin on his lips before he kisses you once more, “I love it.”

He’s probably lost. Following the return address scrawled in your writing, he ends up in front of a pharmacy. He looks up at the sign, blue and white with the paint chipping. Above the pharmacy, he sees floral patterned curtains on brick-lined windows. With a breath, bracing for the unknown, he steps into the store. A bell rings above the door. There’s a lady with pink hair behind the counter. And a little girl sat beside the cash register. The lady looks up from where she was babbling at the girl. Owen doesn’t miss the way her eyes widen for a second. And then, she lifts the girl, placing her down on the hardwood floors.

“Sweets, go to your momma.”

The little girl, chubby fingers clutching on rubber teethers, nods with a smile before disappearing behind a curtained doorway.

“How can I help you?”

His lips part to speak, but he’s interrupted when someone else bursts into the store.

“Jo, these just came in.”

And there you were. With a box pressed against your hip, eyes focused on a piece of paper. His mouth dries. You’ve always been so beautiful.

“It’s the antibiotic we ordered last week—”

After years, your eyes finally reunite with sinful blues.

“Owen?”

He’s rushing forward. You’re numb, almost unseeing while he cups your face between his hands. He’s trying to get you to listen. “I’ve looked for you everywhere,” he says. “I missed you. I tried to go back,” he insists.

“What are you doing here?”

He pauses at the cold of your voice.

“I came back for you. I missed you.”

“You came back for me?”

You notice Joanna leaving the room, giving you privacy. Knowing her, she’s probbaly waiting by the curtained door. One ear out just in case something happens.

“Yes, baby. My darling girl,” he presses his forehead against yours. Your fingers tighten around the corners of the box you hold.

“You came back for me?”

Harsh and biting, a deep-seated rage bubbles inside you.

“It’s been three years. Almost three years. You only came to me now?”

His fingers are desperate, palms cupping your jaw. Thumbs rubbing into your cheeks. “I tried. I couldn’t get out of Puerto Rico for a while. I did everything I can to get back to you.”

His thumbs catch the salt tears running down your cheeks. The kiss he presses between your brows is solemn and pleading. The anger in your heart turns down into a simmer. You will always succumb to him.

You kiss him. It tastes like salt and relief. Desperate in how he tries to take it further. With one hand, slowly, softly, you push him away. His forehead presses against yours. Nose breathing you in. Quietly, almost scared, you whisper, “There’s someone you need to meet.”

[mickyschumacher]

Im not sure if your request are open but if they are- a fic with Lando based off the song lose control by Teddy swims. Angst and smut, the whole works😩

But if your request are not open and you see this I hope you have an amazing day/night 🫶

(also I absolutely love your writing. Binge read majority of them the first day I got tumblr and I’m obsessed)

[LOSE CONTROL!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and lando had ended things on a good note... or so you thought. you didn't expect to find him at your front door begging for a second chance. or in which lando doesn't know when to give up.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), mentions of magui (not a fan of what she's done but this is fiction), angst, jealousy, cheesy confessions, unprotected sex (pretty please use protection), teasing, slight-public roleplay? breast play, eating out, fingering, oral sex, p in v, cumming inside, mentions of crashing, technically infidelity on lando's part, poor humour, fluff, and poor proofreading.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: ex-fwb!lando norris x fem!reader, special appearances: magui corceiro and joão felix.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 9k+

𝐀/𝐍: first of all so sorry for taking this up so late! my bad... but it's done! in time for my 2k special! yes that's right, there are two thousands of you little buggers reading my work! i'm ever so grateful, especially because i'm the most inconsistent person i know! thank you for putting up with me, for reading my work, and for your cute little comments. they all make me very happy in such a tough time i've been going through. sending you my ever grateful love from the bottom of my heart ♡︎ p.s it's my 100th post shocker!

🏎️ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | ⚽️𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

"I miss you."

Lando's voice was always like this. Slightly croaky and brittle yet warm and full of need. For you it was a sort of drug. It always pulled you in, it blurred the line between wrong and right, and you always came back for more. And when it was paired with those brown tinged blue eyes of his and all the freckles on his face, you were a goner.

"Lando," you sighed, leaning on your door frame. It was one in the morning. You were asleep but ever so gracefully woken up to the consistent ring of your doorbell. You rubbed your face with an exhaustion not familiar to your slumber but familiar to the antics of Lando himself. The words fell from your lips in an eased flow. "You can't be here. You don't miss me. You need to leave."

You tried to avoid his pained eyes but everywhere you looked, you met them in some shape or form.

"But I do miss you. I miss everything about you. Your smile, your lips, your body, your laugh, fuck, everything."

You blinked slowly, wondering how you had got here. How is it that the decisions and choice you made in life lead to Lando Norris pleading at your front door at one in the morning?

Ah...

There was an answer to that.

As the story goes, around a year ago, you were with Lando. 'With' was a loose term. It was supposed to be friends with benefits. You had been for almost a year by that point. Naturally, the only rule to being friends with benefits was to not fall in love with each other. And as natural as that rule was, there was a common saying: 'Rules are meant to be broken.'

You and Lando both realised it. But it terrified you the most. You weren't cut out for this. Things were already hard enough as it was sneaking around.

Travelling on the private jets, facing the media and the public, having to watch Lando race every weekend and pray for him wellbeing... it wasn't exactly your cup of tea. It was exactly why you were friends with benefits in the first place.

So you ended it. Lando wasn't happy about it but he respected it.

That was the end of your story.

Or so you thought.

"Lan, you're in a relationship. For fuck's sake, please can you consider her at least?"

Lando ran a hand through his dark mop of curls, sighing while holding back the eye roll at the mention of his intricately created PR relationship. He knew you were right. You often were. But you weren't understanding him. He didn't think you ever could, no matter how much he tried to explain it to you.

You and him... you were made for each other. He knew it from the bottom of his heart. You were perfect. Together, you were perfect. There was no one like you. And for him, there was no one else. Not ever. No matter who he dated or who he was with, he'd be damned if there was someone else other than you.

Lando's tongue poked his cheek, eyes firmly on you. "Are you coming this Sunday? In the evening?"

This race weekend was the Silverstone circuit and in the same day, afterwards, was a dinner party with the drivers, families, and friends. In other words, it was a recipe for disaster.

"I don't think I should..." you trailed off, internally wincing when you knew deep down you should've just said you weren't coming rather than being open to it. When it came to the blue-eyed boy in front of you, any assertiveness you ever had was thrown out the window.

Lando reached to grab your hands, fingers automatically rubbing smooth circles into your skin. "Please come," he pleaded, "if not for me, come for mum and dad, hmm? They miss having you around."

You pressed your lips together, eyes falling onto the floor as you began to chew your lip. "Lando, I can't come. It doesn't look good... for the both of–"

"She won't be there."

Your eyes flickered up to Lando, widening slightly at his words.

With an eager sharpe intake of air, he doubled down on his response. "If that's why you're saying no, she won't be there."

You tilted your head, giving him an almost dry look. "You know that's not even half of the reason." A sigh fell from your lips. "Go home, Lando. You've got practice tomorrow. You need sleep."

Lando's eyes softened. You always kept track of those small things for him, scolding him for not going to sleep early or not taking care of himself. It was like old times all over again. His grip around your hands tightened. "I will," He promised, "but tell me you're coming on Sunday. Please."

You cursed at yourself. It was that same voice. That one with so much need and desperation. It was as if a voice gained the ability to have puppy eyes.

Reluctantly, you nodded slowly. "Fine... I'll come," you relented.

A smile finally sprawled across Lando's face, hands moving to quickly bring you into a hug. His arms felt comfortable, bringing an ease you hadn't felt in over a year. "Thank you."

Your eyes widened when you felt a quick kiss on your cheek, still lingering after Lando parted. He grinned, taking a few steps back from you. "I'll see you Sunday. "

━━━━━━━━━━━

The Sunday jitters were real. You couldn't ever truly imagine how anyone of the drivers felt on race day but you imagined it to be something like this.

The way your heart was thumping, one would think you have an odd case of arrhythmia. You were working up a sweat masked by the anxious sprays of perfume you had lathered on and all you were doing was standing.

You hadn't watched the race in person because that was equally as idiotic as going to a brunch where the person you love and his family was despite him having a girlfriend. And you didn't want to be twice as idiotic. In the end, Lando had gotten a well-earned P3 at his home race, despite the mistakes of his team.

You were happy for him. But it didn't rule out the fact you were in a serious dilemma of awkwardness as you dawdled outside of the venue. Your fingers twirled around the fabric of your dress.

You shouldn't of worn it. It was Lando's favourite. You knew that.

Hell, you shouldn't be here.

You should go home.

It wasn't too late.

Your name abruptly sprung into the air. "Is that you?"

Well shit.

You took a slow turn on your feet, a sheepish smile automatically working its way onto your face. "Mr and Mrs Norris!" you greeted.

An amused huff fell from Lando's mother's mouth. "Please! You know you can call by our names!"

Somewhere in the back of your head, you could feel your mother's voice nagging you at the very thought of calling them by their names.

Cisca smiled, bringing you into a warm hug. "God, we've miss you!" Pulling away after a few seconds, she took another few to observe you. "You've become more beautiful since we last saw you, isn't that right, Adam?"

Lando's father chuckled. "Not more than you though," he teased only to get a playful elbow from his wife. He turned to you and grinned, reminding you exactly where Lando's came from. "The girls will be so happy to see you, sweetie. Oliver too."

You laughed gently, thanking them. Your mouth felt dry. Usually you knew what to say to them. But it had been so long, you weren't sure what to say. Whether it was right or wrong. How much Lando had even said...

"Lando was telling us how you've been busy studying, is that right? You've been doing your master's?" His father queried.

Speak of the devil...

You nodded slowly. "Yes. It's research based so it's quite, uh, time consuming. So I just wanted to put a year dedicated to it. That's why I haven't been around as much."

Both of his parents nodded in understanding. His mother pouted, "While it's been sad without you, I'm very proud of you. A bachelors is no easy feat let alone a master's!"

Your heart constricted while her soft eyes met yours. His mother was always like this. Talking you... treating you as if you were her daughter. You never understood it. You'd only known each other for a couple of years including the period were you and Lando were with each other.

You asked her a month before you had ended it with Lando how she knew you so well. Her response... you could've never forgotten it even if you willed it. '"A mother knows everything. What's good and bad for their children. You know it as mother's intuition. When I look at you, I just know."'

"'Know what?'" You remembered asking.

"How important you are to Lando."

And that was when you realised you were completely and utterly in love with him.

"If you two are done talking, we should finally go inside," Lando's father continued to tease.

You sucked in a sharp breath as you walked with his parents inside the venue.

It was definitely too late.

━━━━━━━━━━━

To be honest, Lando had seen many beautiful things in life. Life, if you looked at it carefully, perhaps on a slight angle, was beautiful. And besides, they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

But the sight of you walking into the venue, arm linked with his own mother and you chatting with his father was forever etched into his brain.

He could've sworn his heart was leaping out of his chest. Everything about what he was seeing was perfect. Your smile, the atmosphere, the sun shining down on you, the sound of your laugh, your hair, the wind, the dress... God, he could go on and on.

"Lando! Look who we met outside!" His mother cheered making him grin.

"Well, well, well," Lando smiled, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek before hugging his father. He stepped back, blue eyes fixated on you. He stretched out his arms, waiting for a hug making you sigh and his parents laugh softly.

You took a step forward, reaching your hands to wrap around his back while Lando's own hands fell to your waist and brought you close. His classic Tom Ford perfume lingered around you as he whispered in your ear. "You came."

"I promised," you responded softly, pulling back only for him to tighten his grip on you. You suppressed an eye roll. "Congrats on P3. You did well."

Lando perked up at the mention of his race and finally pulled back. "You watched?"

"I–" Your voice was interrupted by another familiar Brit.

"Is that who I think it is?" Alex queried with his usual wide grin.

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "Depends... is it the most prettiest girl? After Lily, of course."

Alex chuckled. "Is there any other answer?"

You pretended to ponder. "Nope! That's the one." You both laughed as you gave each other a hug.

"Where have you been? I needed someone to give me company on the tracks. It's been so lonely," He complained dramatically.

And without realising it, you were back to meeting everyone you hadn't seen in a long time. Weirdly enough, you missed this. Talking to everyone, joking around, just spending time with them... it gave you some sort of peace.

"Okay! Oscar, you're time's up," Lando announced, standing at the table you, Oscar and his girlfriend, Lily, were seated at.

Oscar gaped at his teammate. "But we only just met her!"

Lando gave a sickly sweet smile. "Aw... tough. Now scram!"

You shook your head as you watched the couple leave the table. "You are the worst," you said, leaning on your arm while Lando took a seat next to you.

"I haven't seen you in so long! Sue me for wanting to spend time with you," Lando shrugged in his defence, blue eyes trained on you.

You blinked, averting your eyes to the rest of the party. "I going to get some champagne," you murmured, standing up to go the table full of various spirits and juices.

You cursed silently as you caught Lando following after you from your peripheral. Arriving to the table, your fingers danced around, looking for the right glass of bubbles.

"You're ignoring me," Lando stated, hot breath skimming past your ear as he stood inches away from you.

You kept your eyes on the alcohol, letting a small laugh fall from your lips. "Gee, has anyone ever told you that you're a smart cookie, Lando"?

Lando pursed his lips. "I miss you."

You sighed at the familiar words, fingers wrapping around a glass of what you were pretty sure was Dom Perignon leisurely being given. "Lando... stop it. I came here because you wanted me to, okay? Just forget about whatever it is you're thinking about."

You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt Lando's hand travel to yours, fingers just hanging on to each other. You hated how his touch made you feel so... so tingly. As if you were having your first crush.

"So that's why you wore this dress? To tell me to stop? Because I wanted you here?" He laughed softly, playing with your fingers. He shook his head. "I can't even imagine what you'd do if I told you every single thought running through my head right now."

Your eyes widened. You shakily put back the glass of champagne.

"Lan–" Your voice cut off upon the feeling of his fingers trailing at the back of your neck. You gulped while Lando's voice continued to linger.

"How much of a mistake do you think this really is? Wearing my favourite dress? Don't think I haven't seen that necklace on you. Let's turn that pendant around and show everyone who's name is on it, hmm?"

Your eyes widened. Shit. You had completely forgotten about the necklace. You had spent all your time using it on the front side that you had forgotten about his initial's engraved on the back.

Lando's tongue trailed over his bottom lip, head tilting to the side. "Sweetheart, I'm torn. You have no idea how gorgeous you look. But you have no idea how much I would give... what I would do to take you home right now. That dress would be off and my fingers would be on you. Fuck, just imagining it, I–"

"Lando!"

You and Lando both furrowed your brows, chests heaving breathlessly. You definitely didn't say his name nor did you sound like that. Turning your head slightly, the view made you take wide steps back from Lando.

Lando mended his brows even more, only smoothing them when he saw what you had seen. "B-Baby!" The endearment failed to come out of his mouth smoothly, making you wince.

You watched Lando hug the blonde girl in front of you. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Brazil?" He asked, only just covering up his sheer curiosity.

"I was but I wanted to surprise you... so surprise!"

A surprise... yes it was.

You blinked as the blonde turned to you, extended her hand, and introduced herself. Awkwardly, you returned the kind gesture because ultimately she had done nothing wrong to you.

You introduced yourself as Lando's old friend because it was the safest bet. And it was the truth... to some degree.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Lando asked his girlfriend as a queasy feeling began to form in your stomach. You think you can hear her respond, settling for a glass. You weren't sure. Your ears were tuning in and out of this noise. Out of your peripheral you see the driver turn to you. "Did you still want your champagne?"

You let out a low exhale and gave the both of them a tight smile. "It's okay. I was just leaving."

The smile on Lando's face dropped. "W-What? Already?"

You nodded curtly. "Lots of things to do."

Lando narrowed his eyes. "Like what? It's barely seven... the day's almost over..."

Your eyes widened, feeling startled as an awkward laugh fell from his girlfriend's lips. "Lan, the girl said she has things to do. Stop grilling her. Sorry... must be the post-race adrenaline or something. It's a shame you can't stick around though. See you around?"

You gave a small smile, slightly irritated at how genuine and sweet she was. You actually wished there was something about her to hate. "Yeah," You agreed softly, "See you around."

━━━━━━━━━━━

About thirty minutes had passed since you left the dinner party, much to everyone's dismay.

You were exhausted.

You only just had the energy to take off your heels and put aside your purse before you fell onto your bed. Sighing, you stared at the ceiling. What even was life anymore?

You couldn't believe yourself. You were so angry and pissed off at Lando and you were jealous of his girlfriend.

There wasn't any rocket science to it. You were still very much in love with Lando. You shouldn't be but you were.

Your mother once told you that love wasn't black and white. It was the blurred line between: it was grey. It was never as simple as being in love or not. You fall in love and fall out of it and just as you did, you would fall once again but with someone else entirely. And sometimes it compelled idiotic things like infidelity or rebounds.

Love was also seasonal. It changed all the time and sometimes you enjoyed it and sometimes it made you suffer. It was entirely demanding. It drove people crazy. It was overwhelming and yet so lonely.

Point in case: love sucked.

And you and Lando had not escaped from it.

You weren't sure if you ever could.

But you had to. It was the right thing to do. Maintaining boundaries was the right way to go.

You blew some air up to your face, pushing the hair out of your face. Nodding to yourself, you told yourself you were getting over Lando.

You sat straight at the sound of your doorbell ringing throughout your house. Begrudgingly you walked towards the door, a hundred percent sure it was your neighbour a floor down. She was a sweet, quiet old lady who fit the 'crazy cat lady' persona a bit too well. Often, she came to you asking if you had seen a cat of hers but the worst part was that all of her cats were the tabby orange type. How she could tell the difference was beyond you, no more than how exactly the cats were using elevators and opening fire exits to get to your floor.

Without thinking too much, you opened the door to greet the lady but all the words you had ever known fell to the air upon seeing Lando.

"Lando," you took a calm deep breath, "Please tell me I'm hallucinating or that you're not actually in front of my door right now."

"I can't do that," Lando said, eyes burning with something a bit too familiar.

Wordlessly, you begun closing the door. But the jutted foot of Lando's quickly intercepted the act. "Please," Lando pleaded, coming into your apartment.

You let out a distressed sigh as you hear the door close. "Lando, you can't be here. You're supposed to be at a dinner party. With your friends... family, with your girlfriend, oh my God, with your freaking girlfriend, Lando."

"But you're the only one on my mind," Lando breathed, watching you walk around your house. His arm reached out to your waist, stopping your endless rounds of circles. He could feel you take a sharp intake of air, standing still at his touch. Holding you close, his lips lingered near your ear while his warmth enveloped you.

"I think I'm going crazy," he murmured. "You're in my dreams. Even when I look at her, I see your face. You're fucking everywhere, sweetheart."

You pursued your lips together. "Why do you have to make things so difficult?" you asked quietly, not to Lando in particular but to the silence of your house.

"Then tell me... that you don't want me here. That you don't feel the same way. Tell me... tell me you don't love me. Then I'll leave. I promise."

"I–" you paused, turning your body to him. You could feel his eyes searching your face but you couldn't even lift your head up. "I don't love you."

A lengthy silence ensued and it spoke volumes.

Finally, a soft chuckle from Lando's lips broke the silence. "You can't even look me in the eye and tell me that."

You threw your head back with an exhausted sigh, giving up. Your hands began to flail about. "What more do you want from me, Lando? Why can't you just leave me, us, alone?"

Lando's hand travelled to your jaw, pulling you in a mere inch away from his face. His grip was soft and warm, lulling you. "I can't leave you alone... I can't ever leave you alone. You don't get it," a cry of frustration fell from his lips while his eyes watered, "You were made for me and I was made for you. You... you are all I ever think about. I can't breathe without you. I exist for you. I am so fucking in love with you, it scares me. And i-if you tell me you love me, I'll break up with her right now."

Your eyes burned with an all but familiar salty liquid. "Lando... I can't."

Lando clenched his jaw. His voice was so quiet, a crack away from breaking entirely. "Why? Why can't you just admit that you're in love with me?"

"Because I'm terrified!"

You feel Lando's hand fall from your jaw while his brows furrowed, asking you what you were talking about. Your cheeks were flushed with heat while your fingers dug rested on your hips, digging into your flesh. You took in a shaky breath.

"I can't do this life, Lan. I can't be away from you all the time and travel with you all the time. I'm not another girl on your arm for the media. And I really can't watch you race. Every time I watch you race... I, " you blew air into your cheeks, "I watch with a sick stomach. Every spin, every crash... I always just think.. God, if something happened to you. If I love you..."

Lando fell silent. For the first time in a long time, he had nothing to say to you. All he had were the fresh tears quietly leaking out of his eyes. He blinked rapidly, using his arm to wipe off the rest of his silent sobbing. Stepping forward, with the soft pad of his thumb, he collected the tears you hadn't realised were falling.

Lando cleared his throat, breathing in while he rested his hand on your cheek, rubbing soft circles into your skin. "Ever since I met you, before I even realised I was in love with you, I've spent every race thinking about you. You're my first thought when those lights go off and the last when that flag waves. You don't know it but you are the only thing that makes me feel truly safe. And I would fight the world if it meant that you could openly love me back."

A singular tear made it's way down your face, seeping into the pores of your skin as Lando pressed a long kiss on your cheek before quietly leaving towards the door. Before entirely leaving, he stopped in his tracks. "I'm not giving up on us. I told you before. I could never leave you."

━━━━━━━━━━━

It had been a month since you and Lando had talked... whatever that was out.

The promise he had made before leaving your house that day was one he was persistent in pursuing. You knew Lando. He was stubborn. Often, what he wanted, he got.

You tried to avoid him. But the good morning and good night messages you received every day despite his ever-changing time zones still reached you. You spent the first three days ignoring them but the guilt with each passing day got heavier.

In a way, it felt like you were restarting your friendship. Taking things slow. Except the odd times that reminded you it was anything but. In particular Lando's 'drunk on horniness' messages or the sudden love confessions that popped out of thin air.

Things were... steadyish.

It was the only reason you had accepted Carlos' extended invitation to join him and the other's at a nightclub. You couldn't lie. Of course, Lando was at the forefront of your brain when you accepted. A part of you was curious.

How was he holding up?

Whether he was still with his girlfriend...

Were his plans on not giving up on you limited to his consistent texts?

But alas, as life usually worked, things did not go the way you planned.

While most of the drivers steered clear of the alcohol aside from their podiums, a practice Lando often took somewhat seriously, he was seriously considering breaking at the sight of you. More specifically, the sight of you and João Felix, the famed five-star FIFA player, mingling.

Lando who wasn't starving for any spirits was ready to down a few shots. But instead, he was completely sober, not a lick of alcohol in him, watching João, the ex-boyfriend of his own girlfriend chat you up.

Lando couldn't exactly blame the athlete. He would've done the same thing: the fixated eyes as you talked, the ear-to-ear smile when you laughed, the seamless checking out when you turned to take a sip of your drink or talk to someone nearby because Lando was a hundred percent sure you were the most gorgeous person in the room.

But he could blame João's pettiness. Lando had his ex and now he was going after you. In way, he rated it. But Lando knew you too well.

You were not interested in the player at all. The tight smiles, the absentminded nods, the readiness to jump into a conversation with literally anyone else... you were practically inviting Lando for a talk.

You could feel yourself freeze at the sight of Lando and his girlfriend walk over to the both of you. The air, all of a sudden, felt thick, fogging up your brain. You weren't quite sure what to say. This odd intertwining history between the four of you was nauseating.

"João," Lando greeted with a fake cheer. Magui, his girlfriend, gave a tight smile that bordered on pissed off – you knew the look all too well.

The football player gave a loose grin, shaking Lando's hand. "Lando... Magui," he sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh! Have you guys met yet?" He asked, brown eyes moving to you as he introduced you to the couple.

The three of you blinked at the dry sarcasm underpinning João's voice. You let a small laugh fall past your lips. "We have, actually. I'm Lando's old friend and Magui and I met not so long ago."

Lando gave you a pointed look. "You are way too down to earth. She's a special old friend," he corrected, grinning at João.

You pursed your lips awkwardly as the two Portugueses raised their eyes brows. You raised your hand to rub the nape of your neck nervously. "Uh, well, no... just old friend will do. Always the funny one, huh, Lando?" You murmured with a forced laugh.

To be honest, as the silence began to build, you were surprised to even hear Magui's voice. "I'm sorry..." she started, arm darting out to grab João's hand, making you widen your eyes, "João, we need to talk."

You incredulously watched Magui drag away the Portuguese before turning to Lando. You pondered over her words. "She still–"

"Likes him? Yup!" Lando said, popping the 'p' as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"It's weird how similar she and I are. Lonely... and both head over heels for our exes." Lando tilted his head, eyes examining you carefully while you took a deep breath. "Can't say the same for João though," he clicked his tongue.

The comment made you raise a brow. Lando softly laughed at your confused expression. "Sweetheart... it is my worst luck that you are the most gorgeous woman to exist. João had eyes for you. From the moment you were talking till the moment we stepped in."

You folded your arms, a small grin teetering on your face at the irritated expression on his face. "So you were watching me... obsessed much?" You humoured out of pure amusement.

Lando poked his cheek with his tongue, taking a step towards you, hands still shoved into this pockets of his pants. "Oh you have no idea."

You pressed your lips together.

There were an infinite amount of things that were unhealthy. Rewatching your comfort shows five times too many, the double digits on your screen-time, a high sugar intake (although your tastebuds said otherwise)...

But for you, it usually ended up being Lando. The various facets of Lando often left you undone. And a clean-shaven Lando, stalking towards you in the loosest long sleeve polo shirt, folded at the arms and half unbuttoned so the necklace you brought him and bracelets he wore glittered under the club lights was just another one of many undoings.

"Lando..." you murmured, taking a step back, eyes darting to your surroundings. "What are you doing?"

"I haven't told you how good you look today, have I? Because you have no idea how fucking hot you look," Lando responded, ignoring your question as he took another step forward.

You swallowed your saliva at the recognisable look swirling in those blue orbs of his. Like he was going to ravage you.

"Lando," you hissed, putting a hand to his chest to maintain some distance. You breathed shakily, trying to think straight. "Have some self-control!"

"Oh sweetheart, you know as much as I do." You widened your eyes as Lando used your hand to pull you closer, merely inches away from his face. His voice, despite it's softness, is drowned in a husk that runs down your spine. His warm breath pricked the surface your skin. "When it comes to you, I have no control."

Never in your life had your throat felt so dry. You burned at his words and his touch made your stomach churn. "But..." you furrowed your brows, trying to remember what you wanted to say. "But Magui? João?" You managed to get out.

As the strobes of light glimmered across Lando, you managed to capture him closing his eyes after being trained on your lips for so long, as though he was trying to hold himself back, swimming up to the surface for some sort of consciousness.

His forehead fell to yours as he pondered those three words. "I told you..." Lando said, hands travelling up your neck to hold your face, relishing the heat your flushed state brought. "I exist for you."

In essence: fuck Magui and fuck João.

━━━━━━━━━━━

"You're kidding me," Lando flatly said, evilly eyeing the 'Out of Order' sign on your elevator.

"I'm also totally kidding that my room's on the fifth floor," You laughed softly, sarcasm underlying your voice.

Lando turned to you with a blank stare. You two had both managed to get out of the nightclub as discreetly as you could (which included the most obvious winks from Carlos and Fewtrell). While both of your patience was wearing thin, in the nature of an F1 driver, Lando was losing it ten times faster.

Lando had been waiting what felt like forever to be with you, for you to green-light him. That time he spent without you felt torturous as though he was being punished for being in love. And now that he had you, he was going to make up for lost time.

The only hitch in his plan was an elevator under maintenance and five flights of stairs.

Lando raised a brow at the anything but innocent smile tugging on your lips. He sucked in a sharp breath. "I do not like that look on your face."

You suppressed an eye roll, knowing damn well those twinkling eyes were saying something else. Slowly, you walked towards the fire exit with Lando following after you cautiously. Popping your head into the room, you looked up and the numerous staircases trailing up the building.

A quiet laugh slipped past Lando's mouth. "What are you doing?" He asked as you took your heels off and placed them on the floor.

You turned to him, resting your hand the railing of the staircase while the other found your hip. "My dear Lando," you tsked, "you didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"

You smiled at the furrowed brows he sported. "They say you should work hard to get what you want. Who knows..." you shrugged, "Maybe you'll find my panties on the third floor."

As the cogs finally clicked in place, Lando sunk his teeth into his lips. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, raking his eyes over you. "And if someone catches us?"

You jutted your bottom lip, pretending to ponder his question. "Guess you'll have to be fast then. Aren't you an athlete or something?" You teased, grinning ear-to-ear now.

"You are going to be the death of me." Lando gave you a pointed look, throwing his heading back soon after receiving a cheeky wink from your side.

The British driver watched carefully as you started to make your way up the flight of stairs. Smiling to himself while shaking his head, he grabbed your heels with his two fingers and climbed up after you.

Lando was amused and excited at the same time, seeing you occasionally turn to him with a knowing glint in your eyes. He knew himself that things were currently tame: finding your heels, purse, and jacket in his hands.

He felt dazed upon catching a glimpse of the lace underneath your dress, tight around your ample flesh, his own pants beginning to constrict.

"Not just yet, Lan." Your voice piped up in the silence. Lando fluttered his eyes open, seeing you turn back to him again. He questionably hummed in response, gathering himself once again.

"What are you going to do now?" You queried with feigned innocence, eyes flickering to your bra dangling in your hand. "Whoops!"

Lando sucked in a sharp breath, watching your bra fall to the floor before shamelessly moving his eyes to your chest, eyes bulging at the now uncontrolled cleavage spilling from your dress. His fingers clenched around all of your items while he swallowed the saliva building up in his mouth.

The sudden urge to increase his pace up the stairs made you widen your eyes with a fire-like anticipation, matching his action. As Lando grabbed your bra from the floor, he could only imagine what was coming as you arrived to the third floor.

But surprisingly enough, Lando had caught up to you, intentional on your part he was sure. He eyed your body as you sat on a stair, leg crossed over another, letting your dress ride up your thighs.

"Looking for something?" You queried, catching his attention.

"Nothing." Lando winced at the poor and croaky lie escaping his lips.

You grinned, gliding your tongue over your lip. You stood up, hand clenching around the soft and wet fabric in your hands. You could hear Lando's breath hitch as you used your free hand to trail up his leg, only millimetres away from the bulge in his pants.

Lando's eyes focused on you as you met his gaze. He felt your lips graze his own, naturally making him lean in for more but your finger pressing down stopped him, instead pulling his free hand open.

Lando closed his eyes upon the feel of the soft textured fabric in his rough palm. "Please tell me that's what I think it is."

He knew what it was. But he wanted to hear it from your lips.

You moved your lips to his ear. "What do you want to hear? That your holding my panties? Or that they're soaked?"

Lando's eyes snapped open, dropping your items to his side. His hand travelled up your neck, holding your face to jerk it towards him. You could feel his hot breath swarm your vicinity. His thumb trailed over your lips, head leaning in.

You gave him a small smile, pulling away. "We still have two whole floors, Lando. Patience is a virtue."

Lando blinked blankly at the light tap of your fingers on his cheek. He watched you leave once again. Knowing that you had no underwear unknowingly awoke something deeply sinister within him.

You were a siren. Luring him in by doing so little and yet, the most. He was sure of it.

Lando took in a deep breath, closing his eyes once again. He was also sure that the next thing about to come off was the last thing you had on: your dress. And he wasn't confident he could handle it at all. His cock felt impossibly tight against his pants, aching in such a way that begged for release.

"You're missing the show, baby."

Lando looked at you, gathering your items and slowly walking up the stairs, watching you carefully take the straps off your shoulders, emphasising 'L' on your necklace. His tongue rested at the corner of his mouth, preventing them from tugging upwards when you realised you had to deal with the zipper of your dress.

"Need some help?" Lando asked, catching up to you once again.

You pouted at his amused expression. "Lan... I had a thing going," You whined. You had used a damn string and paperclip to pull the zip up earlier this evening. And now? Now you had a lover who drove a papaya-coloured car for a living with a shit-eating grin.

"How about," Lando started, moving your panties to his other hand to wrap an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him, "I help you get out of this dress and you stop being a little minx so I can fuck the tease out of you, hmm?"

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, feeling Lando's bulge push up against your ass. Your skin pricked with a wave of heat that you hadn't felt in a long time. You hear Lando hum in your ear, waiting for a response as he nestled his chin into your collarbone, fingers grazing up and down your body.

"Fine, fine," you relented, turning to grab Lando by the hand before you hurried up the last flight of stairs.

"I thought you said patience was a virtue!" Lando huffed, smiling at your pace.

You rolled your eyes. "You're one to speak."

Lando chuckled softly, trailing after you with the same eagerness sparking within him.

━━━━━━━━━━━

You peeked your head into your empty hallway, hand still around Lando's. There were four flats on your floor. Two of which were empty thanks to the cost of living crisis and the other, your neighbour, who was often out of town.

In other words, you were free to be as loud as you want.

With as much humbleness and reserve you could manage, you tamely walked down your hallway, hearing Lando mumble something about how your hallway belonged in a horror movie.

"Gee... that's so sexy, Lan. Keep going," you dryly encouraged, turning to grab the keys in your purse.

Lando jutted out his hand, letting your keys dangle from his fingers in front of your face. "I'm just saying," he said defensively with the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in amusement.

You shook your head, failing to suppress your grin as you shoved the key into the door, waiting to hear the obscene click. Opening the door, you smiled timidly at the state of your flat. "Well... this is my humble-ish abode... that you've seen a bit too much recently," you teased.

Lando laughed softly, following after you, hands still full. "What are you on about? I love your flat. It's so... you."

You turned to Lando with a raised brow, watching him put down all the trinkets you had left him on the shelf near the door. "Is that a diss I hear?"

The driver rolled his eyes, walking towards you with a knowing glint to his eyes. His arms stretched out, travelling to your waist before pulling you in. You could feel his breath graze past your skin as he held your gaze. Lando's voice was a mere whisper in your ears. "I mean I love you... so I love your cute little flat."

"Oh," you lamely said before blinking back to reality. "I mean not 'oh' like 'oh,' I mean like 'oh... I love you too?" You questioned, slowly dying on the inside at your stupidity.

Lando grinned at your pained expression. "Nice save," he murmured against your lips. "Now... where were we?"

"Hmm?" You idly queried, unable to take your eyes off of his lips. "Uh," you cleared your throat, "something about fucking the tease out of me?"

"Ah, yes," Lando agreed, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "You have been pretty awful today. First walking in with João..." He clicked his tongue, finger trailing the underside of the strap of your dress before pulling it down your shoulder. "Then this dress, fuck."

You let out a shaky breath, feeling his fingers skim past your neck as he walked around you to meet the zip you had been battling all day. Lando's mouth met the side of your ear while he pressed the cold metal of your zip down and against your back.

"And now your little theatrics. It's not very nice of you, sweetheart. I've waited so long... you're on my mind every second of every day. I think about you so much, I don't think it's healthy. But..."

Lando stopped himself, lips brushing against your burning skin.

"But?" You repeated, turning your body to face him.

"But... I don't care," He finished with a small nonchalant shrug and a balance of softness and cockiness drowning his voice.

You didn't waste a second, moving your hands to Lando's neck, pushing yourself forward as you pressed your lips to his.

You could feel his hands immediately wrap around your waist. Your skin pricked with a familiar burn, warming at the touch of Lando's fingers skimming your bare skin.

Even though a fire was whirling within you, your body still had managed to create waves and waves of goosebumps as the hairs on your skin stood straight. You could feel Lando's tongue dart out, nudging your mouth to open a bit more to explore every crevice.

A mix of a grunt and high-pitched moan slipped past Lando's lips making your thighs clench at the tingling rippling through your core. You were positively going to combust.

Lando was equally sure he was going to lose it. He had waited so long to feel your lips and the sheer happiness he felt right now... it couldn't even compare to his imagination. To feel his teeth graze your lips while his one hand roamed your bare back, ever slowly inching towards your ass... the other tangled in your soft hair... he was almost afraid to admit he daydreamed of this.

His pants, fuck, they were tight before but this was something else entirely. He was in a some sort of twisted pain as your hands moved from his neck and crept up the hem of his shirt, brushing his taut torso, remembering exactly where all his little moles were.

"Shit..." Lando sighed out, holding you tighter against him. His lips moved along your bare shoulder, meeting the nape of your neck to attack it with purple written love letters. "Get on the bed, baby," he managed to get out, half-focusing on the honey-drenched moans falling from your lips while he waddled you towards the bed.

You sat back on the mattress breathlessly, chest heaving up and down as you watched Lando eye you down with a lust-driven softness. A gentle smile sprawled across your face, making him gulp cautiously. Coyly, you stood up, barely a few centimetres away from him as you peeled off your dress as slowly as you good.

You could hear Lando's breath hitch before he sucked in a sharp intake of air, eyes fixed on your breasts. They looked lonely... as if they were waiting for his touch. His tongue rested on the side of his mouth, tilting his head while your dress skimmed past your thighs and off your legs.

Lando's head fell back. "Fuck... you are going to be death of me." He shook his head, inching back towards you.

The small laugh that had fallen from your lips made him smile. He watched as your fingers pinched the edge of his shirt, lifting it up at the same rate of his arms flying up. Removing his shirt, your hands danced towards his shorts but Lando's hand caught your wrist.

You flickered your eyes to Lando, eyebrows raised at the pained look on his face. "If I let you do it, I swear to God, I might cum right here."

Your eyes slightly widened at his words, mouth all of a sudden feeling dry. You raised your hands in defence, watching him try to take off his pants in amusement.

"Don't think I don't see that smug smile on your face, sweetheart," He murmured, blue eyes averting to you. A smug smile of his own formed on his face as his arms caged you in, your knees bucking at the feel of the mattress or Lando – you couldn't tell.

Lando's head dipped into the valley of your breasts, hot breath letting goosebumps litter your bare skin. "I missed these sweet tits of yours," he murmured, watching his own hand skim past your pebbled nipple, ears perking at the quiet gasp coming from your mouth.

You could feel the ghost of Lando's smile against your skin before his hand stretched to fondle the soft mound of tissue while his tongue wrapped around the other, circling the hard nipple with his warm saliva.

You let out a small sigh, hand immediately travelling to the mop of brown curls Lando sported as you revelled in his touch. You could tell what he was doing. Making up for lost time. Ensuring you knew how much he missed you by spending the uttermost time and care with your breasts alone.

His thumb and tongue moved in synchronised circles, paying attention to each nipple, savouring the way your body arched into his touch and the small sighs and whimpers of admission dancing into his ears.

Detaching his tongue from your nipple, Lando looked at the sight of the ample flesh of your tits filling his hands. Fuck... it drove him insane.

Your body quivered as Lando's lips trailed down the valley of your breasts, a line of purples following right after his wet kisses. "Lando," you hissed, "People are going to know."

A huff of amusement crawled from his throat. "I know."

Lando watched you roll your eyes while he came down to pussy. His hands glided across your thighs, gripping your plump skin as a wave of tingles bubbled within your core.

Planting a small kiss on the side of your thigh, he flickered his blue eyes to you. "Think I still need to get that brat out of you," he murmured before gently pulling at your labia.

He watched your folds clench around nothing as his hot breath grazed the surface of your pussy. Lando smiled knowingly. "You are simply drenched for me, sweetheart."

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his finger slide down your slick folds, going up to ever so slightly to gather your arousal and graze the sensitive bundle of nerves near the top. A gasp left your mouth, making him grin.

You feel his fingers move away from your heat, skimming your thighs while hearing the hitched breaths fall from Lando's mouth as if he was the one affected. You could see his eyes travel across your body, wondering where to start. He wanted everywhere.

His mop of curls on his head dipped down, warm lips pressed up against the valley of your breasts to your stomach. And as he reached your navel, he could hear your shallow breaths, the ghost of his smile tickling your skin.

Heat prickled every inch of your body and yet a shiver of what could only be explained as some sort of electric current ran through you. You felt a tap on your thigh, bringing you back to reality.

"Don't lose me now, baby," Lando murmured softly, hands gripping your hips to yank your body closer to him.

Before you could breathe, before you could imagine the mere consequences of the way Lando's breath felt against your core, his mouth dived down into your folds.

Your mouth fell open as your head found comfort in the mattress. His tongue grazed over your clit with a tantalisingly slow pace, letting your legs tremor in his grasp. You could feel his lips curve, smirk practically dripping off his face.

You opened your mouth, preparing a witty comeback only for a string of moans to come out as Lando traversed deeper into your burning core, taking on every crevice and fold.

A groan escaped Lando's lips, pulling away for a brief second. "I missed how good you taste, so fucking sweet," he sighed out, delirious.

Your toes curled at his words, hands reaching for his head as he returned back to your pussy, Lando's own hands moving to your inner thighs to expose you entirely to him. His tongue had found your clit once again, unleashing his torturous attack.

"Oh God," you cried out, hips bucking themselves further into his tongue as the signs of your upcoming climax approached. You didn't think you could last any longer, especially not when Lando slipped two fingers inside you, making you clench around around him.

"Fucking hell," Lando rasped against your clit, speeding up his pace. His fingers move in and out of you rapidly, tongue flat against your clit as you trembled in his hands.

The dazed look in your eyes, the sunken teeth, the clenching of your walls...

Lando eagerly pulled you closer if possible, hoisting a leg over his shoulder, sending an entirely different realm of pleasure across your body.

"Lando!" You sobbed, hands tightening their grip on his hair.

He moaned, maintaining his pace. "Come, baby. All for me, come on. Show me how good I make you feel."

You felt undone at his words, body convulsing as the big waves of your orgasm hit you hard. Your walls clenched and pulsed around his fingers.

Lando couldn't tell whether his heart was fluttering or whether his cock was throbbing, probably both, but he had once committed this ruined sight of you to his memory not too long ago, and God, he had been dying to see it again.

The strain in Lando's voice was impossible to miss. So was his aching cock standing straight against his stomach. "I need you... so bad," he murmured, pussy-drenched lips against your ear.

You couldn't help but shudder at his words. Only minutes had passed since your orgasm but fuck, you needed him as much as he needed you.

With a series of nods, you beckoned him over, bringing your lips to his for a brief minute. Your hands trailed over his chest, grazing the back of his neck before finding their place on his upper back.

A low sigh blew from Lando's lips, his eyes trailed to where your hips met before coming back up to meet yours. For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in your touch before holding your gaze firmly. He called your name. "I love you. So fucking much. You're all I want... forever."

His confession made you warm all over. You could feel your eyes water slightly. With a tight smile, you brought your hand to caress his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch. "I love you too."

Those words were music to his ears. Without a second to waste, his hips moved, cock thrusting into you so deeply that you can't help but let out a small cry of pleasure, hand covering your mouth.

Lando wanted to fold. Right there and then. You felt so good around him. As though heaven had found him. But all he could do is moan your name, feeling you tightly clench around his cock.

His eyes flitted to your face when he heard your muffled moans. His arms stretched out to keep your hands away from your mouth and on his back. "Let me hear you, baby. Yell my name. Tell me how good you feel."

Your body jolted as his thrusts became deeper and somehow, you felt like you were only becoming more aroused. Your skin felt sticky, riddled with sweat as your slickness coated your thighs.

Lando groaned at the sight. You were making a mess of him, dripping all over his cock as your eyes became lost in a haze. His hand reached out, jutting your chin to make sure you were looking at him. "Keep looking at me. Look at what you do to me."

Lando's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you over so you straddled his cock, riding him into a new oblivion.

And you did look. You watched him fuck into you with a speed and depth you had missed so dearly. You watched him memorise you as though he was afraid to forget you. You watched him make love to you.

Your second orgasm began to build up as the obscene sounds of your skin slapping against one another filled the room. Your body shook at the feel of Lando's thumb against your clit, rubbing you as he entirely ruined you.

"Lando, I–" you mewled, unable to get the words out.

"I know," Lando responded, holding the same level of restrain and pleasure as his own climax built up. "Cum," he almost cried out, "please."

You could barely keep your eyes open as the tight coil in your stomach snapped. You trembled in his grasp, cumming all over his cock, hips almost unstoppable as they chased those waves.

The tight clench your orgasm brought around his cock sent him over. Lando fingers sunk into your skin. "Fuck, where, tell me where," he begged, impossibly close.

You quivered, still in the remaining moments of your orgasm. "Inside," you panted, "please, Lan." There's nothing more that I want than your cum."

Lando rasped, hips stilling at your words as his cum spilled into you, filling you in all the the right places. His grip on you loosened as he slowly pulled out of you.

You shivered at his fixated gaze of your mixed cum seeping out of your pussy. Lando fell into the bed, closing his eyes, muttering things under his breath to restrain himself. You held in your laughter as he left the bed, almost painfully, to grab a wet towel from the bathroom to clean you up.

You kissed his cheek gently, thanking him as he finished cleaning all the witness dripping your thighs. Putting aside the towel, you pulled the duvet over you and Lando, nestling up to his warm body.

You could feel the softness of your mattress and duvet conform around your body while Lando rested beside you, taking you in. You mended your brows at the sudden silence. "Penny for your thoughts?" You queried, poking his cheek before rubbing his face with the pad of your thumb.

Lando leaned into your touch, warm blue eyes grazing over your face. "I missed you," he murmured, pressing a kiss onto the side of your hand. "Every day without you felt miserable and now... I can't believe you're actually in front of me. "

Your eyes softened. "I'm here," you reassured, "forever."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂���𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[sugarwarachan]

hot for teacher

chapter two previous

pairing: shouta aizawa x f!reader

synopsis: You’re not expecting your day to fall to pieces at 8:21 a.m., but life hasn’t really been going your way lately. A string of lackluster dates, followed by two dead vibrators (with missing cords!), and the only outlet left for your mounting sexual frustration—the smut blog you diligently update—has been discovered by the one person you never wanted to find it: fellow teacher Shouta Aizawa. Who might just be the inspiration behind most of the fantasies you post about.

chapter cws: phone sex -> video call sex, soft dom aizawa being soft as hell, reader being vulnerable on main and hating it, gratuitous use of pet names, dirty talk, praise kink on crack, D/s vibes but never explicitly said, he talks you through it, reader referred to as girl once

word count: 2.2k

aizawa: You’re a good writer.

aizawa: This is Shouta, by the way. Shouta Aizawa, I mean. I suppose I should have started with that.

The compliment cracks your face into a wide, goofy grin that the rest of his texts only magnifies. He's a little clumsy with this form of media, and the thought softens the edge of anxiety.

You still can't wrap your head around the fact that Shouta fucking Aizawa not only found your blog, but was actually maybe into it?

You’ve mostly known him on the periphery, a part of the school’s landscape but never someone you felt comfortable becoming casual friends with. A crush of your magnitude already made talking to him difficult enough.

Which is probably best to not remind yourself of that fact before doing whatever the fuck it is you're doing with Aizawa.

The memory of fingers rubbing circles into your palm pops into your head. His touch had instantly calmed the riot of thoughts in your head.

You stare down at your phone. Thank you is not enough to say, and yet you have no idea what else to add. You shake your head. You’re a grown adult, for fuck’s sake. Surely you can respond to a text message.

aizawa: Can I call you?

You throw your phone across your bed. One of your cats, Bao Bao, raises his head to glare at you.

"Sorry, baby." You offer conciliatory scritches. He consents while your phone buzzes from the corner of the bed.

You pick it up with far more trepidation than necessary.

"Hi." You voices sounds wild to you, all high pitched and breathy with your heart thundering so hard in your ears you barely hear him say hello back. "How are you?"

You punch a fist into the bed sheets. How are you? Fucking seriously?

"Good. Are you nervous?"

You can't help but sigh. Clocked it in one. "Unbelievably."

A pause.

"Because it's me?"

"No, it's not that." You bite your lip. "I've just..."

It’s not like you’re inexperienced. You’ve fucked plenty of guys, but never really quite enjoyed having sex with any of them, which led to you churning out fantasies online.

"I've never really done any of the things I actually like with the people I've slept with. I guess I'm worried I'll be...bad, or something."

"Do you often think about your partner's experience over your own?"

This conversation is sounding more like a clinical psychologist appointment then a get-to-know-your-fuck-buddy chat.

A horrible thought occurs to you.

What if you're some kind of experiment to him? A curiosity? Rumi might know him from his college days and vouch for him, but you don't know shit about the guy.

"You know I can hear your brain whirring through the phone?"

"Fuck." You exhale out a laugh. "I'm sorry. I'm just finally realizing that I don't actually know what your intentions are. And men tend to be..."

"Manipulative pieces of shit?" he offers.

"Yeah. Something like that."

"I'm sorry. My 20 questions routine probably isn't helping."

You smile softly. "That and my anxiety. Always pushing forward the worst possible thought with little to no evidence. You're right, though. I'm usually in my head when I'm with someone. Can never get out of it long enough to actually enjoy myself."

He hums, considering. "What would help you not think so much?"

"Talking usually helps. I have a thing for nice voices."

"Do you like mine?" You swear you hear a touch of apprehension in his tone.

"Yeah," you say. "It's deep and kind of... I don't know, rumbley?"

"Rumbley," he repeats, chuckling. "I've never heard that before."

"It's a good thing, I swear."

"As long as you like it."

You have to strongly fight the desire to kick your feet up and down.

Keep it together.

Aizawa starts to speak again. "I know this is just words right now, but I want you to feel comfortable enough with me so you can tell me what you like and don't like."

Your stomach swoops at the calm intent.

"Right. I - " You swallow. "I want that, too."

"Good." The single word dries your mouth up. “Do you like to be called anything specific?"

An image of Aizawa's hand collaring your throat flashes through your head, his mouth an inch away from your ear as he tells you to behave—

"Isn’t this, I dunno, boring to you?" You toss the question out in a pitiful attempt at deflection. This conversation is already too honest, too real, too close to exposing who you are to another person.

He pauses. “Why would this be boring to me?”

"You know. We’re not doing the typical phone sex stuff. We’re just…talking."

"And you don't think that's enough to interest me?"

It never has been before.

You shut out the pitiful answer.

"Sorry. In my head again."

He's quiet for a moment.

"You’re telling me you’re not wet just thinking about the things I want to call you when we’re together?"

Your whole body flashes hot.

"I mean—"

"Tell the truth, sweetheart."

It’s impossible not to be, you realize; just from his voice alone, your panties are already damp and sticky with your arousal.

"Yes," you admit, and you wish you could see the look on his face when he lets out a gentle groan.

"I don’t care what phone sex is supposed to be like, I just want it to be what we like."

Oh god, you weren’t counting on Shouta Aizawa being sweet.

"That was one," you say, cheeks on fire. How is this both the tamest and sexiest conversation you’ve ever had? "I like being called sweetheart. But only, like, if I’ve been good."

Admitting this makes you feel off-kilter. You’ve never had such a frank discussion about what you like in bed, but talking to him feels safe, easy, even if your whole body aches, demanding to be touched.

"Oh?" His voice shifts, a deeper register making that single sound strike deep in your gut. "And what do you like to be called when you’ve been bad?"

You’re pretty positive that if Aizawa called you his little whore you’d detonate on the spot.

"You must have—"

"I know what you’ve written. I want to know what you like."

There's a bite in his tone you recognize, a struggle to keep himself quiet.

"Are you hard?" you blurt out.

His chuckle is strained. "Have been this entire time. And you called our conversation boring."

You grin at the teasing. "Can I see?"

You want to, suddenly, with a desperation that knocks you flat. If he were here, you're pretty sure you'd fucking crawl on your knees to get to him.

"Tell me what you like to be called, and I'll consider it."

You tell him instantly. "Slut, whore, brat. You could probably call me your little bitch and I’d like it."

"Fuck." He sounds wrecked. "Are you touching yourself, sweetheart?"

The pet name washes over you like sunshine.

"Umm. No, actually. I was..."

Waiting for your permission.

You handed him the reins a while ago, you realize, as soon as you obeyed his command to tell the truth.

"What are you wearing?"

Your thoughts stumble.

"The truth, y/n." His voice is so low now it's almost a growl. "I don't give a fuck if you're in a teddy or a trash bag, I just need to know how to get you naked the fastest."

"A t-shirt and panties," you breathe out. Arousal makes your skin tingle and pulse, every intonation of his voice drawing you closer to the edge. Rubbing your thighs together does nothing to ease the ache.

"Shit. You probably look so fucking cute in your bed right now." You hear him grunt and then a drawer shut. Thinking about Aizawa slicking up his hands and fucking his fist drives another thrum of desire through you. "Spread your legs apart, baby, pretend I'm right in front of you. Can you do that?"

You can barely breathe you're so turned on. "Yes, I can do that."

"Good girl. Now pull your panties to the side. Tell me how wet you are."

Just the caress of your fingers on your hips and inner thigh is enough to make you tremble. A light buzzing fills your ears and the world drops away to just your fingertips gathering the slick at your entrance. You graze your clit and gasp.

"I'm - " You suck in a breath, trying to articulate the words. "I don't think I've ever been this wet. Fuck, you're not even here and I'm practically soaking through my fucking sheets."

A second later, a video notification comes through.

You answer and Aizawa's face appears, his stubble heavier than normal, eyes hungry.

"Knew you'd look fucking beautiful like this," he says before you have time to speak. His eyes rove over your face like he's mapping it.

You wriggle under the compliment, under the implication—had he thought of you, too, before the blog?

"You look so good," is the only thing you can think to say, but Aizawa doesn't seem to mind. His eyes crinkle into a small smile. It's one you almost wish you hadn't seen, its sincerity something so rarely turned toward you it nearly stings.

"Thanks, honey."

Oh, you're never coming back from this.

"You still want to see?"

Really, truly, never coming back after Aizawa pans down his stomach, passing over a dark happy trail that makes your mouth water, and angles his phone over his cock.

Your pussy clenches around nothing.

"ohmygodyou'rebig," comes out in one long rush.

His head falls back against his headboard. He sucks in a breath and you watch, mesmerized, as he starts stroking his shaft slowly. He squeezes and twists the head, a little bit more pre-cum glistening at the tip.

"You've gotta stop lookin' at it like that, sweetheart, or I'll cum like a fucking teenager." Pride washes over you at how destroyed he sounds. It's like he would push himself through the phone if it were possible. "You have something there that will make you cum fast? I'm barely holding on and I want to finish with you."

You fumble for your rose, a thought occurring to you. Normally, you'd be too embarrassed to even suggest it, but you want to with Aizawa.

"Do you want to see me?"

The sound he makes is pornographic. You bite your lip, twisting your inner thighs together.

"Yes. God yes, I want to see you."

"I know you said you wanted me naked earlier, but maybe I can leave my shirt on?"

He nods. "Yeah, baby, let's do that. It's not like I don't want to see all of you. I just—"

"Want to save some things for next time?" you supply.

"Yeah." That soft smile again, the one that feels like your heart's being set on fire. "Exactly."

You do the same general pass over your body that Aizawa did, tracing over your waist and hips, encouraged by the way his eyes drink in every inch of exposed skin. Before you turn the rose on, you sink two fingers into your pussy and slide back out, slick webbing in between your fingers.

"Jesus, you're soaking wet." You can hear the lewd squelch of his hand along his dick and the moan you let out rivals his from earlier. You're shaking you're so turned on. "Turn your rose on, sweetheart, and then come back to me. I want to see you when you fall apart."

The toy suctions against your clit. A whimper falls from your mouth, and then several more, as Aizawa's voice washes over you. You lose track of how many times he tells you how good you're doing for him, how beautiful you look, but it feels like only seconds later that you're cresting toward your peak.

"Shouta," you breathe out, gasping for breath. His eyes are fixed on you, something unnameable in his gaze. "Please please please—"

"Cum, sweetheart," he says, and your eyes fall shut, voice keening into a wail as you thrash on your bed in the fiercest orgasm you've ever had. "That's my girl, showing me how much she wants me there stuff her full. Fucking perfect, so fucking perfect—"

Through the haze of orgasm, you barely register Aizawa's own orgasm, your own name echoing in your head as he finds his release.

"That was..." you trail off. You have no idea how to describe what that was besides life-changing, but that feels a little too intense to say.

"Amazing," he finishes. "Absolutely amazing. You were incredible."

You're pretty sure your body temperature could set your bed on fire you're so pleased by the compliment.

"You know you're cute when you're embarrassed," he teases.

You groan. "Your pillow talk needs work."

You were joking, but his face turns serious. "Got it. You were okay the whole time?"

A smile takes over your face before you can stop it. "Yeah. I was great. The whole time."

"Good."

You both don't say anything, and then you realize you're just staring at him, and the comfort is starting to make your skin itch. You aren't used to this.

"I should go to bed." The time on your bedside nightstand reads 1:03 a.m. "You too if we're going to get all the exams graded before break."

"Right. Good night, sweetheart."

You fall into sleep after the call clicks off, a trace of a smile on your lips.

You don't see the email come through.

SL: TIME SENSITIVE: SPRING BREAK - DEBATE TEAM COMPETITION - CHAPERONES NEEDED

taglist: @phaticserpent, @magidzi, @hotlosergirl17, @luckybibucky, @heyithinkilike, @getoisinnocent, @personally4runa, @kennys-partner, @geektastic84, @wave2mia, @bakery-angel, @constanttea, @aryuunachigiri, @sskorvid, @therefore-evermore, @one-scarred-mofo, @food4dead, @alphabetsoupyum, @cielito--lindo, @rentheannihilator, @juiceeypeach, @imastorytelleritsondvd, @ivydoesit23, @anotherfuckedupdayinthelifeofme, @deputy-azor, @ibby-miyoshi-nerd, @h3rmit-purrrrple420, @lousypotatoes, @hisbitch101, @greedygobbo

(･ω･)つandy's notes: another outrageously self-indulgent chapter that i had SO MUCH fun writing and I really hope you all enjoy it, too!! the posting schedule is Mon/Fri, hope u follow along! <3

ALSO ALERT ALERT AIZAWA POV NEXT WEEK

[lucy-literates]

Layover

A/N: I decided to try something a little different. I watched Malachi in Stuck in the Middle, and now Zombies 4. I got got how much of a crush I used to have on him as a kid. I did find out he’s actually a year younger than me, crazy. Anyway, I am going to write up the request I have, this idea has just been floating around my head for a couple days. Requests are also open! Please enjoy (and let me know if it’s rubbish) 🫶🏻

You wasn’t expecting much from your layover — just overpriced coffee, an uncomfortable gate chair, and hopefully not missing her flight.

What you definitely wasn’t expecting was to slam straight into someone mid-turn, nearly knocking you both over.

“Whoa—sorry, I didn’t see—“

“No, no, that was totally my bad.”

You looked up. And up. Into the unmistakable face of Malachi Barton.

“Wait…” you blinked. “Aren’t you—”

“…Running late, apparently,” he grinned.

That smile. You'd seen it in posters, reels, and the shows he did as a kid. But in person, it was less polished, more real.

"I think I just shoulder checked a Disney prince" you joked, shifting your back to your other shoulder.

"Honestly, that's the best hit I've taken all week" he said "the tour is brutal."

"Hang on, are you coming back from the Descendants Zombies thing?" You had seen the reels about it but weren't able to get any tickets.

"Yeah, just landed. And already tackled by a fan in Terminal B" he said with teasing in his voice, and a wink to punctuate.

You raised your eyebrow "Tackled? I barely touched you"

"Emotionally tackled" he said with a grin "Devastating"

You both laughed, it was the kind of laughter that made time hiccup.

"Are you staying here?" He asked you, a hint of hopefulness in his voice.

"Ah no, I'm not" you answered. "This is just a layover"

"Oooooh" he said "Where are you going?"

"On a holiday" you replied "to Salem" (I only say Salem because that's my next holiday)

"Very... witchy" he replied with a chuckle "I'm going home to laundry and post-tour blues"

"You really are living the dream" you joked

His laugh was soft, raw, real. Something about it made your chest pinch and your breath short.

You were about to say something when the Airport intercom came on "Flight 3213 to Boston is now boarding, that's Flight 3213 to Boston boarding"

You sigh and make sure you have all your things, "that's my flight, I should get going. It was nice meeting you, I'm sorry for emotionally tackling you. I hope you can recover" you said with a laugh

Malachi chuckled "would you, maybe, want to stay in touch?"

You paused for a moment, then answered "As in like, text?"

"Yeah. Or call. Or send goofy selfies. Whatever you're into"

You give a small nod and slow smile, as you pull out your phone "ok Disney prince, you go". You gave him your phone and watched as he typed his number. He was about to hand it back when you said "Wait! I need a profile picture for you"

You opened your camera and pointed it at Malachi, who promptly took your phone, turned the camera around, and pulled you in for a selfie together.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and held the phone out. You wrapped your arm around his waist and rested your head on his shoulder. He rested his head on top of yours, said "smile" and took the photo.

He set it as the profile photo, and then used your phone to send the photo to himself. You heard his phone ping, and he pulled it out of his pocket. He grinned at you from the side as he unlocked his phone, went into his messages. He changed your name to Princess and set the same photo as your profile.

"Thank you" he said.

"No worries" you responded.

"This is the final call for Flight 3213 to Boston, that's the final call for Flight 3213 to Boston boarding"

"You gotta go" he realised "like now"

"Crap, I do"

"I'll walk you to your gate" he said as he took your suitcase and your bag from you, and led the way.

You chuckled and said "My gate is that way"

He turned to see you pointing in the opposite direction from where he was walking "oh, this way then."

He helped you get your bags sorted and walked you as far as he could, bid you goodbye and told you to "text me when you get there"

You thanked him and waved as you walked down the hallway to the plane.

---------------

Malachi: Did you make it to Salem alive? Or were you tragically defeated by airport vending machines?

You: Alive and sleep-deprived. But I did get attacked by a rogue suitcase in baggage claim. I’m limping dramatically for attention.

Malachi: You’re really thriving.

You: Main character energy, tbh. Current status: walking along Chestnut Street listening to sad music like I’m in a breakup montage.

Malachi: You're not even heartbroken and you're still being cinematic. I respect that. Send me a pic so I can rate your brooding skills.

You: <<photo of you with sunglasses, slight pout, graveyard in background>> How’s that?

Malachi: 8.5/10. Would’ve been a 10 if you had dramatic wind in your hair.

You: Rude. The wind was busy.

---------------------

You: Went to the She-Varoy Hills today. Pretty sure I saw your ego from up there.

Malachi: Wow. And I thought I was being charming. I’ve been practicing restraint, you know. I haven’t even sent you a selfie in, like, 36 hours.

You: That’s tragic. Want me to send you a candle or something?

Malachi: Only if you come light it yourself.

You: That sounds vaguely threatening.

Malachi: Good. Keeps you intrigued.

--------------------------

Malachi: You’re fun, you know that?

You: You said that like you’re surprised.

Malachi: I just thought you’d be normal. But you’re not. You’re like… actually cool. Real. Not fake-nice.

You: Are you flirting with me, Barton?

Malachi: I’m considering it. Depends. What’s your stance on missing return flights?

You: Bold of you to assume I’d risk airport chaos for a guy I barely know 😌

Malachi: Bold of me to assume you wouldn’t? -----------------------

These message chains you had with Malachi were adding more and more to your holiday, like you didn't even know you needed it until it happened. Then, you got the one text you had kind of been hoping for.

-----------------------

Malachi: Okay. Serious question. Your layover back is in LA again, right?

You: Yeah. Same gate and everything. (Which feels suspiciously like fate.)

Malachi: What if you… didn’t keep flying? What if you changed your flight and stayed here for like a week? I’ll show you around. Be normal. Be respectful. You can even run if I turn out to be secretly unhinged.

You: What if I say yes and you regret it?

Malachi: Impossible. I already don’t want this to be over when you get on that plane.

----------------------

You had barely slept. Not from the nerves, which were definitely here now, but because you couldn't stop replaying the moment you said yes.

One minute, you were staring at yourself in mirror like a lunatic, making sure you didn't look exhausted. The next, you were standing outside LAX with a wheeled suitcase, a half-melted chocolate bar in your hand, and Malachi Barton waving at you from the curb like he hadn't just rewritten the past week.

“You actually came,” he said, smiling in that stupid, disarming way that should’ve come with a warning label.

"You asked" you shrugged, though your heart was doing more pounding then shrugging.

-------------------

You woke up the next morning, grateful for the sleep you had gotten. He doesn't live in a crazy mansion, but in a cozy house that's half full of unpacked boxes from the tour. He gave you the spare room, fresh towels, and a full bottle of purple shampoo because he "didn't know your hair needs and panicked" even though you had packed shampoo for your original holiday.

You walked out in an oversized tshirt, no makeup and bed head. You found Malachi at the bench drinking orange juice from the bottle.

He spots you and freezes mid sip.

"Morning" you say

“Wow,” he says.

“Wow what?”

“You look like someone who’s about to steal my heart and the last cinnamon roll.”

You raises an eyebrow. “Only one of those things is true.”

He hops off the counter, barefoot, hair messy, shirt inside-out.

“Okay,” he says, clapping once. “Here’s the plan. First, breakfast. Then I’m taking you on the very official Malachi Barton Tour of LA.”

“Does that involve paparazzi and overpriced green juice?”

“Nope. It involves the beach, tacos, a record store that smells like actual dust, and me proving that I’m not just a dude with a blue checkmark.”

You smile, softer this time.

“You don’t have to prove anything,” you say.

He pauses. “Maybe. But I kinda want to.”

---------------------

You're walking through the local street market, hands brushing against each other but never fully touching. He tells you stories about filming, and you tease him about his hair product obsession. You end up at a smoothie place and he orders for you without asking what you would like, and he got it exactly right.

"How'd you know" you ask him, suspicion in your voice.

"Lucky guess" he says, even though he definitely went through your texts to find it.

----------------------

You end up sitting on a roof later that night, with some cheap takeout and string lights above you. That weird electric stillness between friends who might kiss but don't want to risk ruining had settled around you.

"This is insane" you whisper.

"You staying?"

'No, I mean this whole thing. You. Me. Here"

"Yeah" he murmurs, leaning back on his elbows. "And yet, you're here"

----------------------

It's late.

You're curled up together on his couch, the kind of squishy, lived-in thing that sinks too much when you sit on one side. Some Disney movie plays softly on the screen, chosen because neither of you planned on paying attention anyway.

You're tucked against his side, legs stretched out, a blanket half draped over both of you. Malachi's arm is slung lazily on the back of the couch, his fingertips ghosting over your shoulder every now and again.

Your cheek was resting on your chest. You could hear the steady thump of his heart under your ear and, for once, your thoughts aren't racing, they're still.

“You tired?” he asks, voice quiet, like he’s scared to break the moment.

“A little,” you murmur. “But I don’t want to move.”

He smiles, eyes fixed on the screen but not really watching.

“Good. Cause I wasn’t planning on letting you.”

You shifts slightly, just enough to look up at him — and finds him already looking down.

That soft, melting silence.

That electricity in the space between them.

“You’re staring,” you say.

“I know.”

He doesn’t move right away. He waits — giving you time, space, choice. And that’s what makes you fall for him a little more.

So you lean up first, slow and sure.

And he meets you halfway.

The kiss is soft, not rushed, not dramatic. Just lips brushing lips, the warmth of his hand slipping gently under your jaw. The kind of kiss that makes your stomach ache in the best way. Like the start of something. Like safety and butterflies and yes.

When you finally pull back, barely inches between you both, he’s smiling. That small, secret smile he only seems to give you.

“So…” he whispers.

“So,” you echo.

“What does that mean?”

You pretend to think and flash him a cheeky grin.

“Means you’re in trouble,” you say, nudging your nose against his.

“Worth it,” he murmurs, kissing you again.

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