#i showed this picture to people and they thought it was cursed

[literaila]

Make a list of every single shenanigan teenage reader and Gojo have done

Doesn't have to be detailed I just want to know what these losers did to make Yaga so mad

• broke a vending machine because gojo kept trying to pull the drink reader wanted out of the machine with cursed energy instead of letting her pay for it

• accidentally bleached everyone’s clothes when it was readers turn to do laundry because gojo swore he “knew a secret”

• broke a tv remote when wrestling over it because gojo kept turning the volume up to 1000% when reader was trying to sleep

• set the oven on fire when trying to bake a cake for suguru’s birthday and then gojo “accidentally” pointed the fire extinguisher at reader instead of the oven and ruined her clothes

• picked the locks to the gym so reader could show gojo how to take the basketball hoops off of the wall

• spent a whole day scaring people by gojo teleporting them both around into peoples rooms for “practice”

• stole a car in the middle of the night just for fun

• when everyone was gone one weekend the two of them just went around everyone’s dorms and replaced the framed photos of their families with pictures of gojo

• developed a dance routine except the “dance routine” involved them tackling each other in the classroom and getting suspended from class for three days

• when reader found out that gojo was using his six eyes to cheat a look at his christmas presents and pulled his hair until he was crying from his pretty blue eyes

• sneaking away from group outings at popular districts to go and get dessert approximately 17 times

• sneaking out in the middle of night to get gas station food and inevitably getting caught each time because of the barriers around jujutsu high approximately 26 times (yaga but a deadbolt on the outside of gojo’s room to lock him in but then he learned how to teleport)

• “forgetting” to complete their chores and spend their time beating each other at video games instead

• hiding all of the food in the kitchen in suguru’s dorm and replacing it with empty bottles of suguru’s fancy hair conditioner that they’d both been collecting for up to six months

• pretending that the other died for multiple hours at least once each (everyone believed it)

• throwing everyone a surprise birthday party (so it wasn’t a surprise after the 3rd time) but timing it so that yaga would only show up after everyone was gone and the classroom was a mess

• changing the newspaper out with fake versions to mess with yaga (this is readers personal favorite. also includes more pictures of gojo)

• endless prank phone calls

• literally endless (suguru eventually stole satoru’s phone but they would just use readers instead and shoko threatened to stab them both where “no one would realize it wasn’t an accident”)

• kept messing with nanami’s coffee in the mornings until eventually he got a thermos with a lid instead of a mug

• reader picked haibaras lock and they drew on his face (he thought it was funny though ((includes chibi gojo))

• reader got geto to start collecting fly heads and he assisted the two of them in letting them go in the common room right before yaga came back from lunch

• stealing the files yaga had on the gojo clan

• using shokos medical books that she “studies” to make paper airplanes to see whose would fly the furthest

• gojo replacing readers sheets with digimon ones (she kept them)

• making six voo doo dolls of yaga and leaving them around campus (you know how he feels about stuffed animals)

• reader hiding all of gojo’s candy in the library where he would never find it (yaga sat him down the next day and accused him of using school space as his own personal pantry and got banished to the library for several sparring lessons)

• sparring so late at night that suguru would inevitably send a curse to bite satoru

[kiwriteswords]

I Promise You This

Chapter Three: I've Overcome The Blow, I've Learned to Take it Well

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Trigger Warnings: Chronic illness, reader with past abusive relationship, canon-typical violence, canon-typical themes, language, future sexual themes

Rating: Mature for mature themes and future chapters.

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: Y/N, the newest and youngest profiler in the BAU, is haunted by her past—an abusive relationship and an illness she keeps hidden from her team. Though skilled in her work, she distances herself emotionally, fearing vulnerability. Aaron Hotchner, her reserved and perceptive boss, begins to notice the cracks in her carefully constructed walls as they navigate high-stakes cases together. Drawn to her resilience, Hotch finds himself increasingly protective of Y/N. As their bond deepens, both must confront their own emotional barriers, leading to an unexpected connection amidst the darkness of their work.

AN: Thanks for the wonderful feedback on the re-write of chapters one and two! I have received many requests for a tag list, which I originally had for the story back in 2021, but I have updated that as well, and that can be found here. I start a new job tomorrow so my re-writing and new posts may be a little slow, so apologies in advance! xx

Masterlist | I Promise You This | Ao3

You sat in your usual seat on the jet, arms crossed and gaze fixed on the dark night outside. You didn’t acknowledge Emily, JJ, Morgan, or Reid as they filed in behind you. The tension was palpable, and everyone could feel it. They’d heard the argument at the police station—how could they not?

Getting pulled aside by Hotch had blindsided you. It wasn’t how you operated. At your first job, you’d climbed the corporate ladder faster than anyone else, becoming the youngest manager in the company’s history. You weren’t the teacher’s pet type, but your professors had always treated you as an equal. Even in the local task force, your superior had been more friend than boss, someone you still considered your closest confidant despite the thirty-year age gap.

You had always been someone people trusted to get things done without question. Growing up in a house where you were more of a friend than a child to your parents had shaped you into that. But it came at a cost. It forced you to grow up quickly—too quickly. You still remembered handing over your babysitting money at twelve to keep the heat on. Your teenage years had been a blur of hospitals, white coats, and endless tests as doctors tried to figure out why your body kept betraying you.

You didn’t know how to handle being scolded. Not as a child, not as a teenager, and certainly not now as an adult. That was perhaps why you had once allowed yourself to stay in a relationship where every move seemed to disappoint someone you trusted. That thought was too heavy to unravel, so you stuffed it down for later, cursing yourself for quitting therapy all those years ago.

Behind you, Hotch and Rossi stepped off the SUV and into the plane, the car ride having passed in silence. Rossi could sense the turmoil simmering inside Hotch; he knew the signs.

“You need to stop beating yourself up, Aaron,” Rossi said as he closed the door. Hotch sighed, pausing at the steps to the jet.

“I feel like an idiot,” Hotch muttered. “It’s my job to know when someone is lying, and I failed. And with something so—” He couldn’t find the words. It was you. You, of all people: quiet, compassionate, and steady. Someone he had come to rely on, even admire.

Rossi shrugged as he stepped up the stairs. “Y/N’s a private person. How could you have known? She’s an excellent agent, but outside of the job... none of us really know her.”

Hotch nodded, but the self-recrimination lingered. He shook his head, took a breath, and boarded the plane.

Once inside, he scanned the team. JJ was showing Reid a picture of Henry; the rest engaged in small talk or resting. You, however, sat alone, staring out the window. Hotch hesitated for a moment before deciding to face what needed to be addressed. He took the seat across from you.

“Y/N,” Hotch began, his voice quiet, almost pleading.

You didn’t look up at first, but something in his tone made you lift your gaze. His expression wasn’t what you expected—he wasn’t angry, just... regretful.

He sighed, meeting your eyes. He still couldn’t believe that someone so resilient could have been through what you described. “I just wanted to apologize,” he said. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

You studied him, unsure how to respond. This was not the Hotch you were used to—the one who always had the answers, who never faltered. “Why would I lie about something like that?” Your voice came out softer than you intended, almost fragile, and you hated how vulnerable it made you feel.

Hotch shook his head, visibly frustrated with himself. “It’s my job to see through lies,” he muttered, looking away for a moment. “What we do... we’re trained to piece together profiles, to find patterns. But you? I realized I don’t know anything about you.”

You furrowed your brow, not quite understanding. “What do you mean?”

“I know JJ’s sister took her own life, and that’s why suicide cases affect her more deeply. I know Reid’s mother is schizophrenic, and it shapes how he handles cases involving mental illness. But you, Y/N... you don’t share anything. And when you suddenly did today, I questioned it. I shouldn’t have, but I did.”

You leaned back slightly, processing his words. You’d spent so long guarding yourself, keeping the details of your life hidden, that you hadn’t realized how closed off you’d become. Before your ex, you’d been an open book. Now, you kept everything buried, fearful that sharing too much would be seen as a weakness.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, barely audible. You could feel the rawness of your emotions bubbling to the surface, and you fought to keep it in check. “I’m sorry I made you doubt me.”

Hotch’s expression shifted, guilt washing over him. “No,” he said firmly, leaning forward. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. This is my fault. I should’ve trusted you.”

You swallowed hard, his sincerity catching you off guard. “I just... I don’t talk about it. Not with anyone.”

“I understand,” Hotch replied, his tone softening. “But if you ever need to... step back, or talk, or anything, I’m here.”

His words, though simple, held a weight you weren’t used to. People had let you down before—your parents, your friends, and certainly your ex. But Hotch? For some reason, you believed him. He seemed genuine in a way that few people were.

You gave him a small, appreciative smile. “Thank you.”

There was a long pause as both of you sat there, the conversation simmering down but still thick with unspoken things. Finally, Hotch broke the silence with a question you hadn’t expected.

“He’s not still in your life, is he?” His tone was low, but there was a protective edge to it.

You shook your head. “No, he’s not.”

Hotch let out a breath, and you realized he’d been holding it since the start of this conversation. “Good,” he muttered, his gaze flicking briefly to the window before settling back on you.

The conversation lingered between you, a moment of connection that neither of you had anticipated. You hadn’t noticed until now that the rest of the team had fallen asleep. Your eyes drifted out to the night sky, and for a brief moment, you felt a sense of peace. 

It was on flights like this that you’d often find solace—an odd kind of freedom, away from everything. It had been where you poured your heart into journals during the worst of times, scribbling out your thoughts when you felt like no one else could understand.

As the plane hummed quietly, you pulled out your phone, putting in one earbud. Hotch, back to reviewing files, didn’t notice until you spoke again.

“I was listening to Jim Croce earlier.”

He looked up, surprised. “What?”

“This morning, before we landed. You asked what I was listening to.”

Hotch blinked, his expression incredulous. “Jim Croce?” he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching into an almost-smile. “That’s a little before your time, isn’t it?”

You smirked. “I may be the youngest on the team, but I’ve got good taste.”

“You don’t make it easy to remember how young you are.”

You couldn’t quite tell if that was a compliment or just an observation, but you smiled faintly, turning your attention back to the music.

The flight ended soon after, and you found yourself back at the bullpen, staring down at the paperwork you still had to finish. The rest of the team was packing up, ready to head out for the night.

“Y/N, you coming for a drink with us?” Emily asked, slipping on her jacket. “Rossi’s buying!”

The idea of unwinding with a drink sounded perfect, but you glanced at the files stacked on your desk. “I wish, but I’ve got to finish this first.”

Before you could protest further, the file was snatched from your hands. You looked up, startled, to see Hotch standing over you, holding the file.

"It can wait until Monday," he said with a certainty that caught you off guard. Even more surprising was the fact that he was already packed up—coat on, briefcase in hand. For anyone else, it might have been normal, but this was Aaron Hotchner. He was always the last to leave, often staying well into the night to finish paperwork or analyze case details long after the team had gone home. Seeing him ready to go was... strange.

“You sure?” you asked, your surprise evident.

Hotch nodded, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Absolutely. You don’t turn down a free drink from David Rossi.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned. It wasn’t just his words; it was the decision behind them. Hotch was notoriously disciplined—methodical, even. He rarely, if ever, joined the team for drinks after a case. His usual excuse was needing to get home to Jack or simply that he had too much work to do. But tonight, something was different. Maybe it was the case. Maybe it was your conversation on the jet. Or maybe it was something deeper—some realization that, despite everything, he needed a moment to just be with his team.

In that moment, you realized how much his offer meant. Hotch wasn't the type to take breaks lightly, but here he was, extending a rare gesture. It was more than an invitation for drinks—it was a sign that, despite the hardened exterior, he valued the team’s bond and maybe even your well-being more than you’d expected.

You laughed softly, the tension in your shoulders easing as you slipped on your jacket. "Alright," you said, a smile pulling at your lips. "Let’s go."

As the two of you walked toward the exit, you couldn’t help but glance at him again. It wasn’t often that Hotch chose to step out of his rigid routine, and it made you wonder what else was on his mind.

For Hotch, tonight was different. It wasn’t just about winding down after a long case. He had spent the entire flight thinking about what you’d shared, about his own shortcomings as a leader, and the cracks in his perception of the people he worked with. You, in particular. He had been wrong about you. That realization weighed on him more than he wanted to admit. He knew that taking a step away from the grind and joining the team for a drink would help bridge the gap he had felt growing between him and his agents—especially you.

For once, the paperwork could wait.

“Hotch, you’re actually joining us for drinks?” Morgan called from across the bullpen, disbelief clear in his voice.

Hotch raised an eyebrow, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. “Don’t sound so shocked, Morgan.”

“Shocked? Nah. Impressed? Definitely,” Morgan replied with a grin, throwing his arm around Reid as they headed for the door.

You smiled to yourself as you followed the group, Hotch walking beside you. Maybe tonight wasn’t just about letting go of the case. Maybe, just maybe, it was about something bigger—about finding a way to be a little more human in a job that constantly took that away.

TAG LIST:

@zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @jencole214 @indiatuck  @eg-dr3amer3 @crispy-crokee @esposadomd @genevieve-blr @mdanon02727

[asanasterisk]

Went for a walk with my dog today and found this thing on the side of the road. It wasn’t dirty or damaged or anything so I just kinda took it (this was not a residential area btw, it was like an industrial/wooded area and it was very clearly discarded) and just spent the remainder of my walk looking like a goddamn lunatic carrying this thing around.

During the walk I saw “Jake is gay” spraypainted on the sidewalk and given that my name isn’t Jake, nor is my dog’s, it must be his name.

[fitzfunnymoments]

For the love of God the next time someone posts vomit untagged I'm going to scream (<- not about anyone here)

[yueebby]

indulge me? — gojo satoru

synopsis you and gojo go on an overnight mission and it goes wrong in every way

contents so. much. pining. (2.8k words of it!?), one bed trope, whipped!gojo, ooc gojo, completely self indulgent, a lot of cardiovascular talk, they’re first years in this!

notes first time i’ve written in AGES. sorry :3 ps this is a little snippet from a satosugu x reader series im thinking about starting. thoughts?

(edit: i wrote a part ii)

Gojo Satoru was born blessed. From birth and to death he will always be honored. It wasn't his fault that the Heavens delighted in him. So when Yaga had announced that he and you would be sharing an overnight mission to Kyushu, he nearly leapt in joy (lucky him)!

You, on the other hand, were less than thrilled to find out that you were going to be traveling alone with Gojo Satoru. For two whole days. It was a death sentence.

“Make sure to text me, so I know you're not dead.” Shoko looks between you and Gojo. Either your head will implode as a result of Gojo, or he is gonna be on the receiving end of your wrath. Shoko can’t wait to see which.

“Do take pictures, I heard the onsens there are incredible.” Suguru slyly adds. Satoru perks up at his comment. The two of them share a knowing look before Gojo speaks up.

“Wanna take a dip with me once we get there, [Name]?” He looks into your eyes, his lips are quirked upwards like he’s up to no good (which he is). “I promise I won’t take a peek!” He winks.

“Keep fantasizing, Gojo.”

“Oh I will.” He hums happily. The smile on his lips is kind of cute, you decide. Just a little.

— — — — — — — 

Kurokawa, you come to find out is a very small town in Kyushu. So when people start to go missing, the entire town falls into shambles. Before your trip, Yaga had made it known the enemy you’d be facing. 

“A common denominator of the missing persons is that they were all young women.” He had warned you and Gojo. “It’s an unidentified curse, but I trust that the two of you will be able to handle it.”

Three missing girls. All under the age of 25. Two of which were locals, one being a tourist. 

The moment you arrive on the island of Kyushu, your guard is higher than ever. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Gojo.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of some horny curse,” He looks down at you as the two of you make your way down a small street to your ryokan. Kurokawa was a traditional town, its pride resting on the old culture causing it to be untouched by modern architecture.

Unamused by his nonchalant attitude, you decide to ignore his vulgar comment, “What grade curse do you think we’re up against?”

He makes a noise to show that he’s thinking. “Does it really matter? It’ll be no match for me either way.”

You roll your eyes, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, we still have to figure out what happened to the victims.”

“I don’t see why that’s necessary, but okay.” Your snow haired peer dismisses. It makes you a bit envious that he doesn’t have to ever feel fear for his life. Must be nice.

The two of you arrived at your designated ryokan soon enough, it was a small town after all. Gojo leads the way with you following right after. You can’t discern any cursed energy in the building, but you still make a mental note to ask Gojo about it after you both are situated. 

An elderly lady in an orange kimono stood behind the desk, smiling at you and you returned it back happily.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a young couple here.” She says. That’s right, with the recent disappearance of young girls, there would be a sudden decrease of tourism around this part of town. “You certainly are a beautiful match!”

You gratefully accept her compliment, “Thank you, but we’re not–”

“Thanks granny!” Gojo wraps a strong arm around your shoulder. “I don’t know how I even managed to win her over!” There’s a wide grin on his face that makes your eye twitch. Leave it to him to tell people the two of you were together. Not only that but he totally disrespected the old lady with his informal talk!

“Unhand me, you!” You forcefully whisper at him, while trying to unwrap yourself from his hold. His arm does not budge even as you try to push it off. What the hell is this boy eating? Gojo chuckles with the old lady while you struggle.

“My, the two of you remind me so much of my husband and I in the days of our youth,” She sighs dreamily. Her age must be interfering with her memory because there was nothing inherently romantic going on between you and Gojo. “How long will you be staying here?”

“Only one night,” Gojo decides that he has tormented you enough and lets you go. He slides her his card and she pulls out something from the old wooden counter she stands behind. 

A single key.

Your eyes bug out. Gojo’s eyebrows raise. You laugh nervously, face feeling warmer than it was thirty seconds ago.

“There must have been a misunderstanding. We need two rooms, ma’am.” You hold up two fingers to emphasize your point. 

The smile on the old woman’s face falls, “I’m afraid I cannot do that.” Your jaw drops.

“Huh? Why not?” You press on further. Surely they could not have been booked out of all of their rooms. Tourism is at an all time low after the strange disappearances.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the strange disappearances in the area. It’s a miracle the two of you have even decided to stay here, which I am very grateful for. That is why I must repay you back by ensuring your safety. Otherwise I must ask you to leave and stay in the next town because I will not allow you to endanger yourself so carelessly.” 

You blink. Neighboring town? That was hours away. The curse was here in Kurokawa. You can’t afford to jeopardize a mission just because of your own feelings.

Gojo’s hand is halfway to the key, but he waits for your approval. You sigh.

“It’s fine, we can do one. Thank you.” You bow your head. She smiled apologetically as she handed Gojo the key. Gojo, unbothered by the revelation, whistles happily as the lady leads the way to your suite.

— — — — — — — 

operation satoru x [name]!!!!

Gojosatowu added getosugu, shoko.ieiri

Gojosatowu You wont believe it!!! shoko.ieiri What the hell is this gc And what the hell is Operation satoru x [name]?  getosugu  how come [name] isn’t in this? Gojosatowu Ladies, ladies, one question at a time please getosugu  Expect a forehead flick for that comment shoko.ieiri  Stfu and just answer the questions Gojosatowu alright alright [name] and i are sharing a room in kyushu!! i may come out of this mission a changed man. shoko.ieiri  someone make sure [name] is still alive and well Gojosatowu I dont appreciate your lack of faith in me >:( shoko.ieiri  Keep a six feet distance from her at all times perv Gojosatowu I might have to for my own sanity. What do you think she wears to bed? shoko.ieiri  You disgust me sometimes getosugu  Only sometimes? shoko.ieiri  Let me correct myself. You disgust me. Gojosatowu Im feeling the love :(

“What are you giggling to yourself about?” You place a hand on your hips as you watch Gojo smile at his flip phone.

“Oh don’t you worry about it,” He closes it. Weird. “What’s the living situation?”

You sigh. “Despite its traditional arrangement, there is a bed.”

Gojo perks up. “Yeesh I’m glad! If I had to sleep on the floor my back would be all sore right on a mission. Y'know how annoying that is?”

You suck your teeth. “Allow me to rephrase myself. There is only one bed.” 

There is an awful silence in the room, save for your erratically beating heart. Of course the old woman decided to place you in a couple’s suite.  

“Heh.” Gojo chortles happily. “Wow, this must be a divine sign from God Himself. I mean, who are we to ignore this?”

“Don’t start,” You hold out an accusatory finger at him. “I’m gonna go request an extra futon.”

He pouts, “Don’t be like that, sharing a bed with me can’t be that bad.”

“I’m willing to bet otherwise.” You walk past him. The white haired boy watches you go like a sad puppy.

— — — — — — — 

You took your time getting an extra futon, using it as an excuse to get all of the nervousness out of your system of sharing the same room as Gojo Satoru. Sharing a room with a boy was already bad enough, but Gojo? Your heart skipped a beat (out of nervousness, you insist!).

By the time you make it back to the room, the lights are out. You assume that Gojo decided to go to sleep early. You don’t blame him. Tomorrow is gonna be a long day of hunting for the curse rampaging Kurokawa. 

The only light source in the room is coming from the bathroom. You sigh. The idiot must’ve forgotten to turn it off. Nonetheless, you were gonna go get unready either way so you make your way to the half open door.

On the sink is a complimentary toothbrush that you help yourself to. You apply some paste and–

There is a sound of something sliding shut from behind you. You look up at the mirror. Standing behind you was Gojo. Wet. And naked. 

“Oh my gosh!” You spit out your toothpaste and ran out of the room. How did you fail to see that Gojo was in the restroom? You blame it on the sliding doors separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom. Oh my gosh. Your face feels like it’s on fire. He has a six pack. And why does his stupid hair look like that when it's wet? Your heart was beating at an abnormal rate. This is so inappropriate.

Shortly after your freakout, Gojo steps out of the bathroom. There was no way you could face him now.

“Aw, don't be so shy now. It’s not like this will be the last time you’ll see me like this.” Gojo stands in the doorway. There is a towel wrapped around his waist, still leaving him indecent in your eyes.

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating Gojo! And lock the door when you’re in the restroom you creep!” You look anywhere but him.

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault, was it? You were taking so long I thought you left me here alone.” You can practically hear him pouting. “Either way, you were the one checking me out.”

Your eyes widen, “I was not checking you out! Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Don’t feel ashamed, this can all be yours,” He gestures down to his body.

“You freak.” you blanch.

He winks at you.

This was going to be a long night.

— — — — — — — 

It takes you about half an hour to calm down from the bathroom catastrophe. By now, you’re situated in your futon while Gojo is tucked on the bed. If you had to guess, it’d be nearing midnight around now. You just need to close your eyes and get some sleep before your mission tomorrow.

Except you can’t sleep.

Every time you close your eyes, your mind betrays you and an image of Gojo post shower illustrates itself in your mind. And it doesn’t help that he sleeps shirtless. You seriously need your mind cleansed.

That wasn’t your only issue. The room was sub zero. Who knew traditional ryokans had such advanced air conditioning systems? All you could hear was the air conditioning machine overworking itself. You could even argue that it was colder than Shoko’s morgue. And your sleep shirt and shorts were doing little to help insulate you. 

“Wanna come cuddle with me?” The last person you wanted to hear from breaks the silence. You pretend to be asleep. “I know you’re not asleep! My six eyes tell me that you’re shivering.” Busted.

“I am not cuddling with you.” You stare at the ceiling above you, arms crossed. How could he even propose such an idea? Has he no shame?

“Well I can’t face the old granny here if my girlfriend ends up dead by freezing!”

“I am not your girlfriend, Gojo. Nor will I die.”

“That’s not what she thinks. Plus we have a mission tomorrow, so I can’t have you getting sick on me now.”

“I’ll be fine, Gojo. Now go to sleep.”

“I run hot when I sleep, y’know. Let me be your personal heater.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning.

“I refuse.”

“Well I refuse your refusal.”

You blink.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Now c'mon,” He pats the spot next to him. “I’ll even make a wall in between us.”

You hear the bedsheets shuffle and you have to sit up to see that Gojo was stacking two pillows in the middle of the bed to prove his point. You’re nearly certain that the only thing you’ll be catching soon is a headache if you keep up with his antics. It was a tempting offer, one that you would surely accept if it wasn’t Gojo Satoru.

“Gojo, I—”

“...Please?” His voice is softer than you have ever heard it. It was unfair how Gojo was making it harder and harder to reject his offer.

A silent moment passes by.

“...Fine,” You reluctantly get up from your pathetic excuse of a futon. “But no funny business!” You warn him. 

You see Gojo perk up from the bed. He looks at you with expectant eyes, “You got it!” He gives you a thumbs up. 

Whatever. If Gojo knew what was best for him, he wouldn’t try anything. You take in a deep breath before turning to face the opposite direction of where Gojo laid. 

“Good night [Name],” You hear Gojo whisper. You sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, goodnight Gojo.”

Eyes closed, you pray a silent prayer that everything will be fine for the remainder of the mission.

— — — — — — — 

Ever since Gojo was young, his body has been used to getting little amounts of sleep. Unsurprisingly, that caused him to have a natural alarm. It was always annoying whenever he woke up at the crack of dawn on a day when he didn't need to, but luckily for him, today it proved to be a blessing. There was an unfamiliar warmth radiating onto his body. Satoru opens his eyes.

He thinks he feels all of his six eyes widen when he feels himself wrapped around another body.

There you were, in all your beauty, lying fast asleep. In his embrace. Soft snores were escaping your mouth and there were stray hairs in your face. Did he mention how beautiful you looked sleeping? He might have to ask Shoko about heart disease because of how fast his heart was beating.

Unfortunately for him, you also seemed to be drifting away from dreamland and back to reality. Your eyes flutter and your eyebrows furrow. Gojo takes this to his advantage and does the worst thing he can think of; pretend to be asleep.

When you wake up, your mind is still hazy from the good night’s rest you had gotten, but not hazy enough to realize that your body was tangled with another’s. And you’re pretty sure the pillow you had been laying on last night was not this hard. You try to delude yourself into believing that this is all a dream, but the effects of your sleep were fading.

It takes all the strength in you to summon the courage to open your eyes. To your horror, you were firmly wrapped in Gojo’s arms and your legs were intertwined.

“What the hell?” You pull yourself away from him. On the floor below the bed laid the two pillows that Gojo had set up as a makeshift wall. You stare at them utter shock.

“No, don’t go, I’ll freeze to death,” Gojo whines, miraculously waking up. You glare at him.

“Explain to me what just happened or I swear Gojo, I’m going to–” You try to threaten him, but you can’t seem to formulate anything.

Unlike you, Gojo looked unbothered by the sudden turn of events. He even looked pleased. There was a lopsided smile on his face as he sighed, “What can I say, I guess you subconsciously want me after all.” 

"I do not—"

“But if I had to guess, I’d say the room got too cold and we most likely cuddled for warmth unconsciously.” He shrugs it off like it was no big deal. You note that his hair is tousled from the night before.

You leave the warm bed you and Gojo had made. His theory was probably true, meaning it was neither of your faults. You purse your lips.

“I suppose that makes sense. I apologize for overreacting, I guess I was under the impression that we had done something lewd last night.” With that comment, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up both your mind and body.

You don’t end up seeing how red Gojo’s face got. It was foreign to feel all the blood rising to his cheeks. He takes one of his hands to slap it over his eyes before chuckling to himself. Yeah, he definitely knows why he likes you. 

All of a sudden Gojo feels like he’s on top of the world. For you, it was just a moment of weakness.

┊⋆｡˚. ੈ ┊

Extra notes:

gojo wished he and you got to go to the onsen together. 

gojo also regretted not taking a photo of you sleeping soundly in his arms. it would’ve been his new wallpaper. 

for the remainder of the trip, gojo was at an all time high, successfully locating and exorcising the curse in less than an hour.

[firelilyfox]

Deadly Eyes

Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: se&ual harassment / angst / curses / hateful words / comfort

If someone means harm to the girl he loves, Paul won't hesitate

Words: 1k

_______________________________

You stare at the men and women right in front of you. All of them were looking at you with the same emotions pictured in their faces. Disgust. Outrage. 

Today was the first day after Paul announced your relationship to his people. The Fremen welcomed you with open arms… well some of them at least. Your roots lies with none of the big houses. All you know about your family is, that they were travelers who never lived at the same place for more than a couple of years. You are one of the Lost Ones. But when Paul rescued you from being tortured by the brutal Harkonen a couple months ago, you never thought about traveling somewhere else again. Your people always praised that the soul is a free from wich never settles and never find the one and only home. Paul changed your way of thinking. With him you felt at home for the first time ever. 

„The Mahdi can’t be with someone who is lost“, one of the believers growled as you were passing by. All you wanted to do was taking a walk and exploring the hallways of the Sietch, one of the rocky formations what the Fremen call their home. And now you are standing in front of a hand full of believers who are talking bad about you. 

A old, wrinkly woman hisses. „You don’t belong here, Lost One.“ 

You look at her fully blue eyes. The same color your eyes have turned as an outcome to the effects of spice everywhere. „Please let me through. I don’t wish for trouble.“ 

Now a young man steps right in front of you. Too close to be comfortable with. You try to move and bring some distance between the two of you, but your back almost immediately hits the wall. Your chest tightens up. This feels like a cage. A cage of people who hate you. 

„But you are trouble, whore.“ He couldn’t have been more than five years older than you, but he was so intimidating that you wanted to flee before he would hurt you. You still are one of the Lost Ones. Their are no fighters. Your people staying alive because they run for dear life when problems appear. That’s why the Fremen always looked down on your kind. 

„All your people do, is stealing and living in the shadows. You are not worthy to be here. Your are not worthy to be with Muad’Dib“, he grabbed your neck with a tight grib. „But I’ll find some use for u, don’t you worry.“ 

The others looked away while he is dragging you to a shallow corner at the end of the hallway. Your screams got muffled by his greasy hand and silent tears filled your eyes. The back of your head hit the wall hard and your vision flickers for a moment. Fear crawling all over your body, followed by the tip of his knife. You’re trying to beg for him to stop, but all he does is giggling at your helplessness. 

„I will show you your worth and after that I will give your body to the desert. I will…“ 

A voice is shouting at the near distance. „Where is she?!“ The man fearlessly let’s go of you and hiding his knife. You fall down on your knees as Paul rushes around the corner. Gentle hands pulling you up and you begin to sob, hiding your face at his chest. 

„How dare you to touch her!“ Paul growls at the man who is now lowering his head in respect for his Duke. 

„I did not want to bring any disrespect to you, Mahdi. But this woman damages you reputation. She is not worthy to be …“ but Paul cuts him off. 

„She is equal to me. I am who I am today, because of her. How dare you to speak about her like that?“ His voice became dangerously silent and you could feel under your palms how tense his muscles were. As you look around you discover that people have stopped and watching the scene with wide eyes. 

You reach up to gently touch his cheek, so Paul would look at you. „I’m okay, Paul. Nothing happened. I’m unharmed.“ 

For a moment the coldness in his eyes vanished, but as he looked down at your neck and saw the bruises … he was ready to kill someone. Paul kisses your forehead and it feels like that he needed to do it just to calm himself down, before he would actually cut a throat. His grip around your waist thightens but not in a hurtful way. You never felt more protected as right here in is arms. 

Paul turns his head slowly. A deadly look on his face. The man kneeled down in fear of his punishment. „I will only say this once and for all. Who ever touches this woman and mean harm to her, will be sentenced to death. Without exceptions.“ He looks around, making eye contact with everyone who is watching. „Spread the word. I will personally kill everyone no matter if man or woman.“ 

The Fremen quickly leaving the place murmuring and chattering. The message was clear. If you break this rule, death by Muad’Dip will find you. 

„And for you“, Paul looked down at the man who tried to do unspeakable things to you. His voice full of dark rage. „If you ever come near her again or look at her even from afar, I’ll break your neck.“ He gave two other men a sign to carry him away. 

„I should have known that something like that might would happen“, Paul curses. „I’m so sorry. I should have never left you go alone.“ His eyes meet yours and the deep sorrow in them breaks your heart a little. 

„You couldn’t ever have guessed that. This isn’t your fault and it’s not your job to see something like that before it happens.“ 

Paul pulls you closer now that the two of you are alone. „But is is my job to protect you.“ 

„And you did.“ 

He leans his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. His body is still tense but his touch is so gently. „I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened if I weren’t be here on time … I couldn’t…“ his voice breaks. This is the side of him no one ever sees. The softness and the vulnerability. To everyone he is the fearless Muad’Dib. But to you he is Paul Atreides. The man who owns your heart. 

„Then don’t. You saved me. I am right here.“ To prove your point you get on your tiptoes and kiss him softly. Paul cups your face with his hands, holding you so close to him that nothing would have room in between. 

_____________________________________________

Thank you for reading! Comments, ideas & reposts are very welcome <3

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Dutch Courage

Summary: When Max Verstappen invites Lando to celebrate King’s Day with him, he can hardly refuse. Especially when it’s a great opportunity to spend time with the Dutch man’s sister.

Lando Norris x Verstappen!Reader

WC: 2.9K

Warnings: Alcohol (over)consumption, curse words

Masterlist

The first time Lando really came in contact with the Dutch culture was during his first Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the race, the enthusiasm of the people, and the taste of stroopwafels immediately made him like the Netherlands. When Max introduced him to more Dutch traditions and told him about the extreme celebrations of the King’s birthday, he couldn’t believe it. His experiences with the Queen’s birthday were completely different, much more sophisticated and ceremonial than the Dutch celebrations. You could say he was gobsmacked when he saw the videos; people dressed all in orange, filling the streets and canals, drunkenly partying like it was a festival. When Max extended an invitation to join him next April, Lando accepted straight away, eager to experience the unique tradition.

And so, next April 27th, Lando found himself in Amsterdam. He was passing tons of people stalling out their stuff on blankets, sitting on folding chairs by their improvised shops. They were all dressed in orange, of course. Lando, himself, had also adhered to the dress code. Sporting his orange hoodie, he’s ready to party all day long.

Lando made his way through the city, Google maps opened on his phone as he navigated the streets of Amsterdam. Luckily, Max’s apartment building was easy to find. Lando rang the doorbell, grinning when he spotted his Dutch friend. Lando could already hear the noise coming from the apartment while he greeted Max, the sound of music and singing passing through the walls.

“Hey man, what’s up?” He asked.

“Nothing much. What about you?” Max responded while welcoming Lando into his second home, leading him into the hallway.

Lando was about to answer his question, but the unexpected sight in the living room disrupted his train of thought. A confused frown etched itself onto his face, and he asked, “Why are there so many girls in your house? Don’t you have a girlfriend already?”

Max laughed at the question, “Oh yeah, they're my sister’s friends,” he responded nonchalantly as if they weren’t appropriating his apartment.

“You sister’s friends? Why are they taking over your place?”

“They’re getting ready to go out in a bit. Since I live closer to the centre than Y/N, they’re leaving from here. I told them to stay the night too, I don’t want Y/N and her friends to travel home in the middle of the night when they’re all drunk.”

Lando nodded as he observed the herd of girls getting ready. It was a mess – even compared to how his sisters got ready. They were doing lots of things at the same time: passing the phone around to pick music, singing along to whatever Dutch song was playing, taking pictures, talking, doing their makeup, fixing their hair, picking out accessories and putting flags on their faces; it was complete chaos, but they didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll get you some water, mate,” Max said before walking to the kitchen, leaving Lando alone with the women. 

It took a while for Y/N to spot Lando, but when she did, she came over right away. “Lando! How are you? I haven’t seen you in such a long time!” She said excitedly as she pulled him in for a hug.

“I’m good. It’s your fault we haven’t seen each other in so long, you never come to races anymore,” 

“Yeah, sorry about that. Life’s been busy. So, I hear today’s your first King’s Day, are you excited?”

Lando chuckled, “Ah, yes it is. Of course, I’m excited. I’ve been told it’s quite the experience!”

“It certainly is. I would’ve expected you to wear more orange though, isn’t it your team’s colour?” She questioned him teasingly.

“Is my hoodie not enough?” He asked, looking down at his outfit.

“Oh Lando, you know it’s not! Didn’t Max show you the videos? Come, I’ll put some flags on your face,” she said as she pulled him into the group of girls. 

They all greeted him enthusiastically as Y/N searched through the pile of orange and red-white-and-blue-coloured accessories, looking for something that would fit Lando. She pulled out a ribbon of the Dutch flag and grinned widely. Lando stood still as Y/N wrapped the ribbon around his head like a headband and tied it with a bow. “Very coquette, I’m sure your lady fans will love it,” she murmured and grabbed his jaw to turn his face to the side. A look of focus overtook her features as she gently applied the face paint to Lando’s cheeks. 

Lando was caught off guard at the situation he found himself in. He had barely stepped foot in the apartment and he was already being pulled in all kinds of directions as the whirlwind of women fussed over him, dressing him up for their sacred holiday. He caught Max’s eyes over Y/N’s shoulder, silently pleading for rescue, but Max merely laughed at the situation in which Lando had trapped himself, not offering any assistance. Instead, he stood by and watched with amusement as Y/N picked out things for Lando to wear and offered him an orange poncho for the rain that would probably come later today. Lando had no choice but to go along with it, accepting everything as it came. It was only a small effort for him, and it seemed to make her happy.

Y/N only let Lando go once she was satisfied with his outfit. He quickly rushed to Max, who offered him a glass of water with a big grin on his face, “She got you, eh?”

“Apparently, my orange hoodie was not enough,” he responded.

Max pat him on the back, “Don’t worry, I was a victim earlier,” he replied, pointing to his cheeks covered with face paint.

Not much later, the girls finally settled down. They were nearly ready to leave, the only thing they needed before heading off was a decent meal. If they were going to get wasted, they should at least have a good base. Y/N and her friends had organised a feast that could feed everyone and then some, with food left to spare. After the generous lunch was consumed, the women had some drinks to get a headstart before they packed their purses, making sure they had all the essentials covered. They divided the tiny bottles of alcohol they had bought in advance, and Lando watched in shock and disbelief as every girl shoved at least two tiny bottles down their bra. Meanwhile, Max seemed entirely unimpressed – as neutral as one could be.

Y/N and her friends had gotten tickets to Kingsland and the alcohol there was way too expensive to get drunk. If they needed to sneak in some alcohol to get properly pissed, that was a problem easily solved. The girls said goodbye and headed out the door, leaving silence in their wake.

The men didn’t leave that much later and headed over to the boat where they would meet Martijn, aka, Martin Garrix, with whom Max and Lando were both good friends. They would spend their time partying on the boat, getting just as drunk as Y/N and her friends before joining Martijn for his performance at Kingsland, where they’d meet up with the girls.

It was hours, and a shit ton of drinks, later when Max called Y/N to let her know they arrived at the festival grounds. In the meantime, a lot had happened: Y/N’s group of friends had gained at least three more people, Lando had cut his nose open on a glass bottle, and Max, somehow, managed to fall off the boat.

Y/N was dancing with her group of friends, going crazy for the songs the DJ was playing when she suddenly felt hands on her shoulders. She turned around immediately, surprised at the presence of a new person and ready to defend herself against whoever decided to touch her. That is, until she noticed the person behind her was Lando. As soon as she recognised the man, she, very drunkenly, jumped onto him. Y/N claimed she hadn’t seen him in so long as she put her entire body weight on the man who, unsuspecting of the move and unstable from the amount of alcohol he had consumed, nearly fell over. Y/N giggled innocently at the interaction, holding Lando’s arms tightly to prevent their fall. She looked up at his face while she did so, noticing the bandage on his nose.

“What did you do?” She slurred, frowning concernedly while running a hand along his face. That wasn’t a good choice; she lost her balance as soon as her hand left Lando’s arm. Lando, his own state not much better, grabbed her waist, trying to stop her wobbling.

“Got hit in the face with a broken beer bottle,” he replied with a grin and Y/N giggled at the image forming in her mind. 

“That’s so stupid. Did it hurt?” she asked.

Lando laughed loudly, “No, I’m too drunk to feel anything.”

Even though the comment is not that funny, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, nearly toppling over.

The group, now including Max and Lando, stood in the crowd, dancing to the music playing as it became busier in anticipation of Martin Garrix’s performance. The field they were standing in became more crowded by the second, pressing them closer to each other. There was barely any space left to move, packed like sardines in a can. When there were people who tried to pass, Y/N’s back was pressed tightly against Lando. So tightly that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body and his breath hitting her neck; so tightly that it made Max send Lando a warning glare. But it didn’t matter when everyone was drunk and there were too many people between them for Max to do anything other than stare angrily.

When Martijn began his set everyone cheered and moved along to the music. In Y/N’s current position, she was nearly grinding against Lando, but he didn’t seem to mind, holding her close with one hand while the other held his drink in the air. Nevertheless, she turned around, wanting to avoid conflict between her brother and Lando, and any pictures and rumours that would most likely arise when people spotted the world-famous Formula 1 drivers. That didn’t mean she’d avoid his touch, though; throwing her arms over his shoulders while he held her waist, they kept dancing together.

Martijn’s set ended way sooner than they would’ve liked it to, and it was only a while longer before the group left Kingsland for his penthouse. After all, when you’re invited to Martin Garrix’s after-party by the man himself, you cannot refuse. 

Somehow, they managed to get to his penthouse safely, where they kept the party going until at least midnight. Most of the people Martijn invited left after the fireworks, leaving a smaller group of people occupying the rooftop. After standing, dancing and jumping all day and night, the group finally found somewhere to sit for a while – just to let their legs rest. But, as luck would have it, there weren’t enough seats, because when are there ever? Before Y/N could even suggest she’d stand, Lando, in his drunken stupor, had already pulled her down to sit on his lap.

He smiled triumphantly as she sat, “You looked tired,” is all he said to justify it.

Despite her surprise, Y/N welcomed the closeness and leaned into Lando, resting her body against his while she sipped her Aperol and joined the ongoing discussion. It was the perfect way to end her night – surrounded by her friends, joking around and enjoying her drink. She enjoyed the drunken conversation, giggling whenever Lando would whisper a funny remark in her ear about whatever stupid comment someone just uttered. His commentary was so distracting that she didn’t even notice when he put his hand on her thigh and tightened his hold on her waist, pulling her closer.

Max, however, did notice. He had been keeping an eye on Lando since their interaction at Kingsland when Y/N was basically grinding on Lando. Knowing a warning glare didn’t do much last time, Max was ready to do just about anything to make his objections clear if Lando decided to take things too far in his presence. Especially when he saw Lando’s hand moving higher up Y/N’s leg while she solely giggled in his arms. It’s an understatement to say the alcohol made Lando bolder – he felt fucking fearless as he kept his gaze locked on Y/N, not removing his eyes for even a second, not until a loud voice interrupts the conversation, at least.

“Hey, mate, let’s keep it PG, yeah?” The tone of Max’s voice made the words sound a lot less casual and jovial than they usually would and Y/N’s cheeks flared up when she noticed he was referring to her and Lando. Lando’s hands shot up, as if Y/N’s warm skin burned his hands, lifting them in a gesture of surrender.

“Sorry man, didn’t even notice it,” he replied.

Max glowered at him, showing he was not messing around before returning to his conversation.

When Max’s attention shifted away from them, Lando tentatively placed his hand back. The alcohol running through his veins made him ballsy and fearless as he continued to make comments in Y/N’s ear. This time, she noticed his moving hand, a blush rising to her cheeks in anticipation of Max’s reaction. But he wasn’t paying attention to the two of them, not until he heard his sister laughing boisterously. Startled at the sound, his eyes darted over to the pair, widening in disbelief when he spotted Lando’s wandering hand edging closer to the hem of your skirt once again. Max’s instincts immediately kicked in at the sight – the audacity of this man.

“That’s enough, Norris. Hands off,” he commanded, his tone firm..

Lando’s confidence faltered under Max’s scrutinising gaze, and he removed his hand immediately. “Sorry, man,” he said, blushing at the attention. Max, too, had been drinking all day, and Lando didn’t want to risk another injury; the cut on his nose was enough for today.

Lando’s sudden change in behaviour was obvious to Y/N; his uncertainty and reluctance to touch her were palpable. In an attempt to reassure him, she leaned her head against his shoulder, cuddling into him while she kept the conversation going. She made eye contact with her brother, whose unrelenting glare softened at her comfort. All he wanted to do was to protect Y/N, but it now felt unnecessary as she seemed entirely at ease with Lando.

At some point during the night, Y/N took the initiative and grabbed Lando’s hand, placing it on her thigh. Lando was apprehensive at the gesture, looking over at Max to see his reaction, but he was focused on his sister. He watched her play with Lando’s hand, fiddling with his fingers and giggling into the crook of his neck. Max shifted his eyes to Lando, nodding at him before returning to his conversation – a sign of approval. If his sister was okay with it, initiating and encouraging it even, then he would accept it.

They stayed in the same position until people started to leave. When Y/N’s friends mentioned heading home, Max suggested everyone should go back, not wanting the girls to walk home alone while they were wasted. It took little convincing to get everyone into the elevator and out to the street to start the short journey (although much longer when drunk) back to his apartment. 

Lando and Y/N were walking next to each other, rounding up the group while Max was busy herding Y/N’s friends through the city. They were leaning on each other as they stumbled through the streets, laughing at Max who was frantically chasing the girls to make sure they took the right turns.

When they finally got back to Max’s apartment, the chaos of the night followed them inside as Max helped everyone to their beds. He had basically adopted Y/N’s friends as his sisters by now, fussing over them throughout the night. Occupied with the girls, Max doesn’t notice Lando following his sister into her bedroom. He sprawled himself out on the bed, barely kicking off his shoes, while Y/N got herself ready to sleep. 

She stumbled over to the bed while Lando watched her, both of them giggling as she nearly tripped over the shoes scattered around the floor. She curled up next to him on the bed, her body fitting perfectly against his. As they drifted to sleep, their whispers slowly faded into silence until the only sounds that remained were the soft snores from the cuddled-up couple, and the quiet stomps of Max trying to catch Y/N's giggling friends.

[loveinhawkins]

When Steve gets to his last year at Hawkins High, it feels like some kind of veil has been lifted right in front him. Or maybe it’s more that the veil’s actually been slowly lifting for years, and he’s noticing it all the more because it’s no longer there.

Either way, when he receives his yearbook, it doesn’t seem like the huge deal that his younger self would’ve made it out to be; he flicks through the pictures half-heartedly, doesn’t even care when the candid ones taken at sporting events catch him in unflattering poses, lip jutting out in concentration.

If he tried to voice his disinterest, Henderson would probably spout off some precocious shit about societal expectations, and Steve would pretend to nod sagely before stealing whatever dorky hat he happened to be wearing—it’s not like he could let the little shit suspect that he occasionally had a point, Steve would never hear the end of it.

The yearbook signings are predictably inescapable: people passing their books back and forth in class or in the cafeteria—and that one’s a risky move, with the threat of drinks spilling on the pages, whether accidental or malicious.

Steve thinks the fever’s dwindled out until he spends a free period in the school library. The seniors typically all bunch together in one of the far corners, the spots with the comfiest seats—loners included, like the perks of age for once outweigh the usual ridicule.

But that silent truce is not exactly being upheld, Steve notes—Eddie Munson is sitting alone at a nearby table.

It becomes painfully obvious when the signing starts up again. There’s a cluster of girls on the yearbook committee who initiate it, and soon every senior in reach is either passing over their own book or signing one.

Almost every senior.

It’s not like Eddie’s the only person ever to be held back. He’s not even the only one to be held back for next year, either: John Nelson off the swim team is in the same position, and he’s still been asked to sign.

But Steve knows that’s not what the source of exclusion is, not really.

He’s gotten good at spotting silent cruelty—good at avoiding it too, before his popularity gave him a temporary shield.

It’s all just bullshit, he thinks. It’s been a recurring thought lately.

He brings out his own yearbook because he knows it’s expected. When it’s finally passed back round to him, he ends up right near the seat opposite Eddie’s, just by chance.

But actually sitting there is his own choice.

He can tell that Eddie has spotted him even though he’s not looked up from whatever homework he’s doing; there’s a silent tension in the way he’s holding his pen.

Steve mulls it over before he asks the question. It could blow up in his face, but what did that matter, really? In the grand scheme of things, it would hardly count as a major embarrassment; it’s not like it’d be any more mortifying than telling his dad that he didn’t get into any colleges whatsoever.

So he pushes his yearbook across the table, because what the hell.

“Wanna sign?”

Eddie glances up. There’s a guarded look in his eyes, and Steve can almost hear him mentally replaying the question.

“Pardon?” Eddie says with pointed emphasis, like he’s daring Steve, let it drop and we’ll say no more about it, Harrington.

Steve doesn’t take it back. He shrugs and flicks open the yearbook, finds a blank spot and taps it once with his finger, a silent offer.

Eddie stares like Steve’s a riddle, like he’s wondering just who the show’s for—but the other students have turned away, have gone back to their seats, yearbooks temporarily forgotten.

Eddie’s hold on his pen relaxes, ever so slightly.

“You sure, Harrington?” he says. There’s still a wary edge to his voice, but there’s an undercurrent of something else, too, like he’s secretly amused despite himself. “Haven’t you heard what folks say? I could curse you.”

Steve scoffs. “That all you’ve got? I’ve dealt with way worse, man,” he says mildly.

A corner of Eddie’s mouth twitches into a surprised smile. Then it’s gone almost like it had never been in the first place, his gaze turning thoughtful rather than defensive.

And obviously this isn’t Eddie’s first rodeo at the whole senior year thing. Steve wonders if there’s a veil that’s been lifted for him too, wonders if he can see straight through it right now.

The bell rings.

Eddie stands up, gathering his stuff.

Steve thinks that’s the end of it: something that’s neither a success or a failure.

But then, lightning fast, Eddie darts across the table and scribbles something on the open page. Slams the yearbook shut and pushes it back over, and it feels like a challenge, like some of his caginess is back—like he’s just daring Steve to reveal that it had been a joke all along—

“Bet you’re counting down the days till you can hold your own copy, huh?” Steve says dryly, as he stuffs the book into his bag.

It’s a risk; he knows Eddie could easily take it as pure ridicule, could misinterpret it as Steve throwing the failed school years back in his face.

Eddie just shakes his head, but he could be laughing—the moment’s gone too quickly for Steve to know for sure.

“Nah, Harrington,” Eddie says easily, thrown over his shoulder as he leaves, “those things aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on.”

Steve doesn’t check the yearbook until he’s home. He eventually finds Eddie’s signature, simple black ink right in the upper corner of one page.

Good luck, Steve. —Eddie

Some of the letters are bunched a little too close together, drifting upwards on the blank page, as if they usually need lined paper to guide them—left-handed, Steve thinks vaguely.

Within a sea of scrawled nicknames and loudly enthusiastic messages, Steve finds that he kind of likes how mundane Eddie’s truly is. Likes the sign off with minimal fuss. Just “Eddie.” Likes how he was just “Steve”, too.

And yeah, if anyone needed to be told good luck, Steve thinks, with the kind of amusement that only comes from distance—pictures his past self, freaking out about monsters come to life.

He slots the yearbook into his bookcase. By summer he might forget about it altogether, left to gather dust as he works for 3 bucks an hour, but for now he marks its significance: something real, hidden alongside the bullshit.

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 12 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: jungkook is stubborn and it leads to some sort of miscommunication?, reader feels cheated on, alcohol, clubbing, cursing, promises to exes fuck everything up basically

☆word count: 7.3k

☆a/n: new week, new angst-filled chapter :') I hope you guys still love it :') thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, May 4th  

You’ve barely slept. Whenever you close your eyes all you can picture is Jungkook and Gabrielle. Gabrielle and Jungkook. 

Just a friend from high school…

You don’t know why, but that lie is the one that hurts the most. Maybe because you thought he was opening up to you, telling you about his past, but he’d shrugged it off, lied about it like it was just second nature. It’s sour, bitter, and you think you might hate him for it.

You feel cheated on. You’re fully aware that you weren’t dating, that you were just a maybe, but you hate that it was taken from you just like that, in a stupid video call from your drunk brother…

It really does taste vile, bitter, sour, and everything in between.

Ria left earlier today. She had to work, but she told you to invite Yoongi or Nabi, to not isolate yourself. You don’t feel like seeing anyone - yes, you could be miserable with Yoongi, but you don’t want to hear the told you so that your friends will say in the aftermath of what happened last night.

Taehyung didn’t even text you once. You wonder if he saw you crying, before Ria hung up the call for you. If he did, you think he’s unbelievably cruel for not even texting you anything, but then again maybe that had been his plan all along. To show you Jungkook’s true nature, the one he’d hidden from you in the last few months.

Were there any other girls? If he’d so easily kissed his ex after just a few days in Paris, does that mean he might have easily done the same thing here, with other people?

You feel nauseous. Thinking about everything makes you feel nauseous.

As does the text that sits on your phone, sent early this morning, while you were in and out of your troubled sleep.

[4:23 am] JK: can we facetime tonight

You haven’t replied. You don’t even want to talk to him, or see his face. You don’t want those treacherous doe eyes to ever meet your gaze again and yet…

Yet you want some closure. You want to tell him off, to break him like he broke you, but that would be assuming he felt for you the way that you did. Which, you highly doubt since he kissed his ex like you’d never been in the picture to begin with.

You sigh, rubbing your face, trying to keep the tears in. They keep sneaking up on you, like you’re not done grieving for what could have been, and frankly, you don’t know if you’ll ever be. You reckon the first step in the right direction might be to seek that closure, to talk to him and be done with it, permanently.

You didn’t think there was a time when you’d have to be done with Jungkook. Everything that you were building, everything, now just rubbles that will slowly turn to dust.

And so you finally open your phone, heart squeezing uncomfortably as the conversation with him pops up. You ignore the texts from before yesterday night, those where you believed he was falling in love, too, and you reply,

[2:09 pm] You: sure at what time

You put your phone away after you press send, sighing deeply as if that might shake the weight of the world off your shoulders. You figure you should stop rotting in bed - it’s not like it’s helped make you feel better - and so you get up, heading to the kitchen.

You’re not hungry. You’re not hungry, but when you see the spicy ramyeon he bought to help train your spice tolerance, you can’t help but crave some. Because you don’t want to let him go, don’t want to let go of all of him. So you put some water on the stove, preparing the noodles as if that might change what happened last night.

It doesn’t. The only thing it does is make you realize that you’ve indeed improved your spice tolerance, as you eat and you barely even have to sniffle. It makes you sad, far too sad, because what was the point?

What was the point of developing a spice tolerance if you won’t eat with him anyway?

Tears pool in your eyes, and this time you don’t bother keeping them in. You let them flow freely, memories of him swirling in your mind. You think about every time he cooked for you - that first time on Valentine’s Day. You think about New York, about every night you’ve spent cuddled up in his arms.

There won’t be any new nights, any new memories. Everything that you and Jeon Jungkook once were is in the past now, to forever haunt you.

You push the noodles away. You’ve only eaten half of the bowl, but the thought of eating more makes you feel sick to your stomach. Instead, you drop your head on your arms on the table, body rocking with sobs.

You don’t even know why you’re crying so much. Why your body holds so much pain for what Jungkook did, when part of you had been expecting it all along. Yet you break and break, like you’re glass thrown from the roof of a building, exploding upon impact with the ground.

It takes a while before you stop crying, the post-tears clarity filling your brain. You straighten, wipe your cheeks and the snot on your upper lip, and then you get up. You throw away the rest of the noodles, and then walk back to your room, trying to hold onto the clarity. 

You slow down in front of Jungkook’s door, imagining him to be behind. To never have gone to Paris…

It only makes you want to cry again, but you’re done crying. 

You don’t want to be crying for someone that cheated on you.

You finally make it to your room. Your phone awaits you on the night table, face up to the ceiling so that you can see that Jungkook texted you multiple times. You steel yourself, grabbing your phone, and then read his texts.

[2:28 pm] JK: we’re at the restaurant rn [2:28 pm] JK: so maybe in an hour and a half? [2:29 pm] JK: we finally went to the catacombs today [2:29 pm] JK: you were right it’s hella creepy

It’s like he’s unaware that he broke your heart, that he destroyed the trust you had in him. It makes you think, did you imagine everything that happened yesterday?

Was it all just a nightmare?

You wish it was, but the tear stains on your sheets are proof enough that it truly happened.

[2:35 pm] You: call me whenever

You spend the next hour lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling, trying to chase him out of your thoughts. Trying to figure out what you’ll tell him: there’s no way you’ll pursue a relationship with him now that that happened. But maybe he’ll have an explanation, reassurance that not everything was a lie…

You don’t know if that would make you feel better. Maybe relieved in some way, yes, but the throbbing in your chest would likely not be lessened by such reassurance. You fear it’d be worse. It would mean losing something that was real, and you don’t know if you’d survive it.

When your phone finally rings, you consider not picking up. You consider ghosting him, disappearing from his life before he has the power to hurt you more, but you’re weak for him.

Far too weak, and you pick up after a few seconds.

He’s obviously called on Facetime, and the moment he comes into view, a soft smile on his lips, you feel like you’re breaking all over again.

The last time you saw those lips they were pressed against another girl’s mouth.

“Hey,” he greets you.

You can’t find it in you to speak around the lump in your throat, so you just offer him a tight-lipped smile. He frowns, eyebrows almost touching over his eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

Of course he’d notice, but… is he that oblivious? Anger cuts through the sadness, and you raise your eyebrows.

“Don’t you have something to tell me?” you ask.

His frown deepens. “I…” he trails off, and then something changes in his demeanour. The frown disappears, his lips part and his eyes widen, filling with fear. “You… Is this about Gabrielle?”

You laugh, so bitterly you taste it on your tongue. “Are you being serious?”

“Yes?” he lets out.

He looks terrified. It’s a strange sight, and it makes unease settle deep in your stomach.

“Tae called me last night,” you reveal.

“Oh.” He pulls on his piercings, eyes dropping. “Oh.”

“What the fuck was that, Jungkook?”

Your question strikes him deep. You see it in the way his shoulders drop, like he’s burdened with the weight of the world.

“Nothing happened,” he tries.

But he doesn’t meet your gaze.

“I saw you kissing her,” you spit. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

“Peach…”

You scoff, yet the nickname brings tears to your eyes. “What the fuck was that?” you ask again, and you hate that your vision is turning blurry, hate the way that you are so completely, irreversibly weak for him.

“It really isn’t what you think it is,” he says.

“You spent the evening locked up in a room with her.”

He closes his eyes, and his phone shifts just enough so that you see his surroundings better. He’s in a park from the looks of it, much like he’d been when you’d facetimed on Wednesday.

“I promise it really isn’t what you think it is,” he insists. He meets your gaze, his big doe eyes so pained you almost want to believe him.

You sigh deeply, and a single tear falls on your cheek. You dry it with the back of your hand. “What was it then?”

A muscle feathers on his jaw as he clenches it, yet he remains silent. His lips stretch in a thin line, horror filling his gaze.

“I really thought…” 

You can’t finish the sentence. I really thought we’d work. You can’t finish it, as your heart breaks and breaks and breaks until you’re back to where you were last night, struggling to breathe as you’d watched him kissing her.

“I made a promise to her years ago,” he admits, his voice wobbly. “I can’t tell anyone, but I swear, peach, it’s not what you think it is. I’d never do that to you.”

“But you did!”

His mouth opens and closes a few times, like he wants to say something but can’t.

“I can’t…” you trail off because you don’t want to say it. 

You don’t want to be the one to kill the relationship when it hasn’t even started yet. Though you reckon he killed it when he kissed her.

“I can’t be with you,” you whisper, as if the words can’t be uttered aloud.

“Peach…”

“Stop calling me that,” you burst. “Stop fucking calling me that when you basically cheated.”

He frowns, his jaw clenching again. “We weren’t even exclusive.”

“Excuse me?”

Undiluted rage consumes every inch of your body, taking away the pain. All there is is the blaze of anger, and it burns and burns until you think you might turn to embers.

“I don’t know why I said that,” he immediately replies, eyes so wide he looks like a deer in headlights. He takes a deep breath and swallows as the movement of his Adam’s apple shows. “Please just trust me on this.”

“No, Jungkook,” you say. “I can’t trust you when it took you all of a few days with your ex to end up kissing her.” You close your eyes, shaking your head. “You told me Gabrielle was just a friend.”

“And she is!” he says. “She really is, peach. She’s nothing like you.”

“Why the fuck did you kiss her then?” you ask, blinking away tears the second you open your eyes again.

“She kissed me,” he answers. “She kissed me when Tae opened the door. I didn’t even know he was on the phone with you.”

“You’re aware that it sounds like lame-ass excuses?” You scoff, shaking your head again. “I can’t fucking believe you. I should have listened to Colton.”

You see the blow that it is to him. His waterline turns silver, and he clenches his jaw hard. His shoulders drop even more, and you think you hear the sound of breaking.

You doubt he deserves to be breaking over his own mistakes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Peach, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I’m home, and then we can…”

“There’s no we,” you interject. “There’s no we anymore.”

“Please.” He’s begging. You never thought you’d see a day when Jeon Jungkook would beg for you, and it hurts fiercely, replacing the anger.

You’re on a roller coaster, and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to get down. 

“What did you promise her, Kook?” you ask, your voice infinitesimally small.

He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I promised her I’d never tell anyone. So I can’t tell you.”

You’re crying again, though this time it sweeps in softly, gently. No rocking sobs, no shaking hands. Just tears, heavier than the sun, rolling down your cheeks.

“Then there is no we anymore,” you whisper.

Because you can’t be in the shadow of his ex. There can’t be secrets between the two of you - especially not when his parents want him to marry her.

“Peach, please.”

“Stop, Jungkook.” You shake your head as more tears spill from your eyes. “Stop.”

“But I can’t lose you,” he says, and you think you spy a tear on his cheek too.

It feels out of place, like it’s a waterfall in the desert, or maybe oxygen in space.

“I can’t be with someone who keeps secrets from me, Jungkook.” You pause, taking a deep breath in to give yourself courage.

“But it’s just…” he trails off, and you watch as defeat takes over him.

You wonder if he ever had to fight for anyone before. If he even has it in him to do it. Though you don’t think you’d want to be with him even if he fought for you. 

Not after last night.

“It really is nothing,” he finishes, though he sounds just as unconvinced as you are and that, most of all, tells you that it is truly over.

You and Jeon Jungkook weren’t meant to be together in this universe after all. You should have known - you saw the signs and chose to ignore them. Maybe because your pink-tinted glasses coloured the red in such a way that it became the most beautiful colour you’d ever seen.

But now that the glasses are gone, you think, were you just blindsided all along?

“Have fun on the rest of your trip, Jungkook,” you whisper.

“Peach…”

“Do not ever call me that again,” you say softly, but you mean it.

You can’t afford him calling you that.

He tries your name, but you shake your head no. He curses underneath his breath, clearly unaware that he did it loud enough for you to hear, and then says, “So that’s it?”

You shrug, like you don’t care at all when in reality it’s taking everything in you not to break down right now. “That’s it,” you confirm. “We don’t even have to tell Tae.”

He nods. “Okay.”

Okay.

Everything, crashing down into a single flat word. Everything, ending on a note of heartbreak that rings and rings in your head until you think you might go insane.

You should have known you weren’t the muse behind the song, behind the poem and the art. You’d always been meant to break away, weren’t you?

You don’t remember hanging up. All you remember is staring at your reflection on the screen, and the sound of your breaking heart in the background.

*****

The thing with the end, it’s that it never really is just the end. The end of something is the beginning of something else, and sometimes the new beginning is better, sometimes it’s worse.

You think beginning your life post-Jungkook in a club might be good. The distraction of the flashing lights, loud music and alcohol is an effective one, yet you know it for what it truly is: escapism.

You don’t know how Ria and Nabi convinced you. You do like clubbing, but Nabi hates it. So maybe it was the fact that she suggested it, that she said it’d be fun that made you want to go. You even invited Yoongi, but Yoongi said he wanted to have a night in, so it’s just you girls tonight, and you reckon it has to be enough.

You follow Nabi past the coat check, waiting for Ria as she drops off her own jacket. A few seconds later Ria meets with you, and she hooks arms with you both to head towards the bar.

“Let’s get some shots before we go dancing,” she suggests, almost screaming so that you can hear her over the sound of the music.

“Dancing?” Nabi lets out.

“What do you think clubbing is for?” Ria teases, and you offer a half-hearted smile at that.

In other circumstances you likely would have laughed, but a smile is a good start, no?

“I don’t know,” Nabi grumbles.

You reach the bar, and you stand behind a group of four guys who are also waiting for shots, or so it seems. You glance at them, and your gaze meets that of the one who’s leaning against the bar, looking your way. You politely smile out of reflex, looking away a second later as you try to focus on Ria and Nabi’s now surprisingly heated discussion about the pros and cons of clubbing.

You think clubbing is good. Clubbing is empty mind, busy body, and right now it’s all you need.

It’s all you need not to run back to the Facetime call this afternoon, and the finality of Jungkook’s path in your life.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath and slowly let it out. Though your heart is aching - it hasn’t stopped since this afternoon - you’ve been good at ignoring it. At pretending that you’re fine, that you didn’t lose something that mattered to you far more than you should have let it to begin with.

You don’t think Jungkook deserved the devotion you had for him. Not when lying to you, when refusing to tell you the whole truth is more important to him. And you’ve gone down a spiral after the call. Stalking Gabrielle on social media, understanding why he kissed her in the first place.

If you were even a little bit gay, you too would probably want to kiss her. She’s attractive, elegantly so, in the same way that all people who are born into old money are. She’s from the same universe as Jungkook, has a beautiful smile and striking green eyes that you can only envy. Her hair - somewhere between blonde and red - is also amazing, probably because she has the money to maintain a good hair care and skincare routine.

You do have your own skincare routine too, but nothing that having a lot of money can pay for.

“Hey, you girls want shots?” one of the guys says, mostly in your direction.

Maybe because Ria and Nabi are still bickering next to you.

“Huh…” you let out, heart momentarily stumbling in your chest as you look at Ria next to you.

You nudge her, and she finally acknowledges the guy, staring him up and down once before smiling her ‘I’m on a mission’ smile. It works right away: the guy smirks, extending a hand for her to shake.

“I’m Jacob.”

She unhooks her arms from yours and Nabi’s, shaking his hand. “Ria. And this is Y/n and Nabi.”

You nod your head and wave weakly in greetings, and Jacob mirrors the motion before setting his gaze on Ria again. 

“So, do you want them shots or not?” he asks.

She tilts her head to the side prettily. “Sure, we’ll take them.”

And that’s how you find yourself downing shots with guys that look straight out of a frat - Jacob, Chad, Elijah and Lucas. Lucas is the one who smiled at you earlier, and he easily finds his way to your side as you drink the shots.

After that first round, Lucas suggests a second one, and you all end up downing Jaggerbombs, the sweetness of the Red Bull contrasting the taste of the alcohol in just the right way. Ria suggests heading to the dancefloor next, and no amount of pleading gaze from you and Nabi makes her change her mind.

She truly is on a mission, and you think it might be partly because she needs to stop thinking about Seokjin. Not that you would ever tell it to her face though.

You end up dancing with Nabi, both of you slightly uncomfortable with the unknown males. In another world, you’d probably be dancing with Lucas, indulging in his company, but right now the last thing you want is to sidle close to a man.

Pretending isn’t making you forget how, just a little under a week ago, you were breathing Jungkook in like he could be the oxygen in your lungs. 

You tense. You fucking tense, and Nabi immediately notices, leaning in to say in your ear, “Everything okay?”

You shrug. “I’d do without the guys, but I guess it was to be expected with Ria in a club.”

Nabi winces, offering you an apologetic look. “Do you want to go?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. You even snort at the way her features fall in disappointment. “Do you?”

“I don’t know,” she admits.

The song ends, blending into another one, and you pull her to the side as a girl walks behind her, parting your group.

“Do you want to go to the bathroom?” you suggest.

She pouts, looking up to the ceiling as if in deep thought, then nods her head enthusiastically. “Yup, let’s do that.”

You chuckle, and then you pull her towards Ria. Ria glares at you when you pull her away from Jacob, yet leans in when you make to speak to her.

“We’re going to the bathroom,” you tell her.

You don’t give her a choice. You grab her hand, pulling her behind you as Nabi leads the way to the bathroom. 

The music isn’t as loud in the hallway, the red lights giving Nabi’s white top a tint that makes it just a little creepy. There’s already a line, and you stand at the end of it, turning to face Ria.

“Can we do no guys tonight?” you ask her.

Her mouth falls open. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think-”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure her.

She still looks apologetic, and it lingers for longer than just the bathroom trip - you have to pull her in a dance after you’ve taken more shots for her to stop looking forlorn. She’s reluctant at first, pouting, and you pull her closer.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I’m really sorry,” she repeats. “I’m so dumb sometimes.”

You offer her a scolding look. “You’re not. Besides, it’s mostly for Nabi that I asked that.”

Ria glances towards Nabi, who’s dancing next to you but completely oblivious to the conversation. “Right.”

And that is that. Ria recovers her playful mood, and you dance and laugh and drink with your friends. You think Jungkook slips out of your thoughts on the fourth shot you down, and by the sixth, your mind is swimming in way too much drunk bliss to even feel the ache in your chest. It’s liberating - you feel like a bird who’s flying for the first time, and so you cling to the feeling as best as you can.

Nabi decides to leave before you and Ria, Namjoon picking her up on his way back from Yoongi’s place, where they apparently gamed together. You don’t care - you’re drunk enough to want to ride into the sunrise, to party until it’s light outside and the world has forgotten about your existence.

Luckily for you, Ria is one for such parties as well, and so you dance and dance and dance, taking another shot ten minutes after Nabi left. 

This time, when Ria pulls you back towards the group of guys, you follow her grudgingly. You even let the dancing tide push you closer to Lucas, who leans in and says, “Hey you”, in a way that makes you think maybe true solace lies in another person’s lips.

It’s early. Far too early. But you’re also far too drunk to care, and so when he pulls you closer to dance with him, you let him do so. You let him sway your hips to the music, let him lean his forehead against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, and you breathe in the same air, and the rhythm is everlasting.

You sigh in contentment. You’re back in New York, back at that DJ show you’d attended with Jungkook. It’s his hands you imagine on your hips, his breath that you breathe in, his sweaty forehead that rests against yours.

It’s him. Because it’ll always be him.

He kisses you, and you kiss him back, hands grabbing at his shirt. He kisses you all wrong - the lack of piercings a stark contrast to your usual.

It hurts. It hurts, and the hole in your chest gapes open wide.

You pull away from the kiss, eyes snapping open to see Lucas’s startled face. His eyes are brown, but they’re not Jungkook’s shade. And he doesn’t have that small scar on his left cheek, or the eyebrow piercing. He doesn’t have the mole under his mouth, or the doe eyes that you fell in love with.

“Shit,” you let out.

“Did I do something I shouldn’t?” Lucas asks, and he lets go of you immediately, as if you burn him.

“No,” you reassure him, yet panic is swelling in you, like the tide when the moon is high. “I just…” You shake your head, letting out a sound you know to be a broken sob. “Just got out of a relationship.”

“Babe,” Ria says from behind you, stepping in between you and Lucas. “Everything okay?”

“I want to go home,” you tell her.

She doesn’t know that you mean to him. She can’t know - you can’t even allow yourself to think so. Yet you can’t help it, the alcohol inhibiting the control you had on your emotions until you’re crying on the dancefloor, just a heartbroken twenty-something who might have flown too close to the sun.

“Please,” you add when she doesn’t react, just looks at your tears like they are foreign entities.

But then she snaps out of her drunken daze, and she pulls you away from the dancefloor, away from the reminders of Jungkook. She helps you get your coat while you sniffle to the side, your eyes red-rimmed. And then she helps you get into the Uber home, holding your hand all the way.

She walks you up to your apartment, but the second you’re inside Jungkook is everywhere, and you need the loneliness. You need to be alone, you need to be able to indulge one last time. So you reassure her, tell her that you’ll be fine, that you can hang out tomorrow, and then you push her out the door.

It takes you thirty minutes to shower and take your makeup off, and another five minutes trying to convince yourself that you should sleep in your bed.

You lose the fight, and you fall asleep in Jungkook’s bed, crying softly as his scent wraps around you like the embrace of a ghost gone too soon.

Tuesday, May 7th 

You’ve slept in Jungkook’s bed every day since Saturday, chasing him like you used to chase cars around his head. This morning, when you woke up, you made the bed, took one last look into this part of your life and then closed the door behind you like you’ll ever forget the hours you spent tangled up with him, fast asleep or losing yourself in him.

He’s coming back today. Taehyung is coming back today, and though you’d once wished for Tae’s return, now you’re dreading it. You don’t want to see him, don’t want to see Jungkook, or Jimin, or Sera, or even Ariane. 

You want to rewind time to the week before Jungkook left, but life doesn’t work that way, does it?

You finish work late, a while after they’ve returned from their trip. And maybe you sit in the car for a long time also, dreading the moment you’ll have to go in.

[2:39 pm] bröther👽: just landed [3:47 pm] bröther👽: it was a shitshow but we’re home [3:48 pm] bröther👽: ari is going to stay at ours for a few days [3:48 pm] bröther👽: we’re planning dinner? are tacos ok [4:31 pm] bröther👽: yeah so it’ll be tacos

You haven’t replied to any of the texts. You want to tell him that you’re good, that you’ll spend the evening locked up in your room anyway, but you can’t bring yourself to do so. In some twisted way, you want to see Jungkook, want to see if this is affecting him the same way that it’s affecting you.

You reckon that might make you a bad person.

You sigh, leaning your head back against the headrest. A car passes in the street, its headlights illuminating you for a few seconds before it’s gone, the dim neon light of the streetlights returning. 

You’re aware you can’t stay here forever. You have to go home, have to walk up the stairs and see Jungkook again. And so you take a deep breath, close your eyes for a few seconds so that you can steel yourself, and then you throw the car door open.

You can’t stop, can’t slow down. So you practically jog up the stairs after you’ve slammed the car door shut, locking it over your shoulder. And then you burst into the apartment, hands trembling as you still there to notice Taehyung and Ariane in the living room, lounging on the couch.

Jungkook’s bedroom door is closed, and you’re not sure if it’s a relief.

“Y/n!” Taehyung bursts, and he gets up from the couch to jog to you, immediately engulfing you in a bear hug.

You hug him back, fists closing around handfuls of his shirt, and you hide your face in his shoulder so that he can’t see the tears pricking at your eyes.

“Tae,” you whisper back. “How have you been?”

“Good,” he answers. “Happy to be back though.”

He pulls away, grabbing your purse from your hand so that he can drop it on the table by the door. You busy yourself with taking off your shoes, feeling shy under Ariane’s watchful gaze. She smiles at you when you look her way, and you smile back, offering her a small, polite nod. She gets up from the couch, walking your way so that Taehyung can properly introduce you.

She’s nice. She’s a warm person, and you feel the kindness oozing from her after just a few sentences exchanged. You know you’ll like her, and you’re relieved Taehyung finally found someone to make him forget his ex from high school.

As Ariane insists on cooking tacos for you all, you think she’s far better than Taehyung’s ex anyway. You do feel bad that she’s cooking at your apartment, but she says she loves cooking, and that you should just enjoy your brother’s return for now.

As she cooks, you and Taehyung sit at the table, telling each other stories from the last few months. Evidently you avoid mentioning Jungkook, instead focusing on what was going on in your friend group. Taehyung pulls Ariane into the conversation once in a while, and she admits she chose to do a semester in Paris because her grandfather was French, and he’s the one who chose her name.

It’s a comfortable conversation, a moment that almost makes you forget that Jungkook is hiding in his room, doing whatever it is that he’s doing. Thinking about him makes your heart strain in your chest, and you mindlessly massage the spot, as if that might chase the ache away.

What does help is when you decide to get up to actually help Ariane, and you take care of setting the table and preparing the lettuce. It busies your mind a little, and though you’re still speaking with Ariane and Taehyung, you manage not to let your thoughts wander back to a certain doe-eyed man.

You’re sitting down to eat when Taehyung finally mentions the elephant in the room, saying, “Should we ask JK if he wants anything?”

Ariane chuckles. “Feel free if you want to deal with him.”

You hope they don’t hear you gulp, and you innocently say, “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s been weird for a few days,” Taehyung answers. “He’s been short with everyone, and he refuses to talk when we ask him what’s wrong.” Taehyung pauses, furrowing his brow. “Why?”

You shrug. “Just wondering.”

Can he hear your heart beating out of your chest? You definitely can, and it’s pumping in your ears, making you feel dizzy.

The knowledge that Jungkook hasn’t been doing well hurts far more than you expected it would. It’s like you just got stabbed right in the heart, and you’re bleeding out where you’re sitting at the table, on Taehyung’s left.

You avert your gaze, looking at the bowls on the table, eyes focusing on the steam rising from the cooked ground beef. You act like you don’t care - you grab a taco shell, and immediately start to prepare your meal, while a strange silence stretches. 

It’s uncomfortable, awkward, and Taehyung flees by getting up and heading to Jungkook’s room. You hear him knocking on the door, and you can’t help but strain your ears as you try to hear what they’re saying.

“You hungry?” Taehyung says after you’ve heard the door opening.

“Not really,” Jungkook replies, and hearing his voice is shattering, wrecking, like the car you were riding just smashed into a wall at full speed.

Your eyes fill with tears, which you furiously blink away hoping that Ariane doesn’t notice. She’s luckily looking towards the hallway though, and you successfully clear your gaze before she turns again.

“I think he’s upset because of Gaby,” she comments as she starts making her own taco. “He started being like this when she stopped hanging out with us.”

Right. Ariane is Gabrielle’s friend. Her best friend even, if what Taehyung said is true. 

You’re not so sure anymore if you’ll be able to get along with Ariane after all.

“Ah,” you flatly let out. “That sucks.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “He’ll get over it. Gaby said he’s the one that broke up with her anyway.”

You gulp around the lump in your throat, and though your hunger has entirely vanished, you bite into the taco so that you don’t have to talk.

It works, and you eat in silence as Taehyung walks back into the room, exchanging a knowing glance with Ariane. He sits back down between the two of you, and then he’s making his taco too, and though the atmosphere is awkward, you don’t have to partake in any more conversation.

You force yourself to eat a second taco, knowing Taehyung would tell you off if you don’t considering you usually eat at least three, if not more. It’s sickening, and you’re on your last bite when Jungkook appears in the door frame.

Your gazes immediately meet, and everything seems to stop around you, to disappear from existence. There’s just you and him, and you take in his dishevelled appearance, the dark circles under his eyes and the hollowness of his gaze.

All light has gone out from his eyes, replaced by shadows and darkness you recognize far too well.

They’re haunting your own eyes, too.

“I’m heading home for the summer,” he tells no one in particular, though his gaze doesn’t leave yours.

Like he’s trying to take everything in one last time, trying to commit you to memory like you’re doing with him right now.

Though you don’t want this to be a memory. You want to remember his lips on your skin and the light in his eyes and the way he’d always hold you close. You want to remember what it felt like to be his – or to believe you were. You don’t want any of the heartbreak, but it takes over everything, and your gaze drops to the table.

“What?” Taehyung lets out. “Right now?”

Jungkook nods. “My father needs help with his company.”

“We literally got home like six hours ago,” Taehyung points out. “Shouldn’t you get some sleep first?”

“I’m good,” Jungkook says. “It’s not that long of a drive.”

It actually is. It’s nearly four hours, and you highly doubt Jungkook’s father asked for help. Or maybe he did. Maybe Jungkook lied about his strained relationship with his family to get you to…

You stop the train of thoughts. He didn’t lie. You were there, and you saw it with your own two eyes. 

You force yourself to meet his gaze again - his eyes haven’t left you. He offers you the saddest smile you’ve ever seen on his lips, and his gaze fills with words unsaid. You can almost taste them on the sharp inhale of breath you take, and you want to tell him to stay.

You want to tell him that you’re in love with him. But it’s too little too late, and so you swallow the confession, shove it down until you can forget its existence.

He nods, like he knows then that you truly are over, and then he says, “I’ll see you guys soon.”

You watch him go - your heart goes with him, and you feel like you’ll cave in on the emptiness in your chest. 

Taehyung follows him to the door, leaving you alone with Ariane. This time, she doesn’t miss the agony on your features, and she asks, “Are you okay?”

You sit back in your chair, nodding once, yet you answer, “I don’t know, I feel sick.”

She offers you a kind smile. “You don’t need to eat anymore,” she reassures you. “You’ve worked all day, maybe you just need some rest.”

“Maybe,” you repeat flatly. “Let me just clean up the table.”

She stops you with a hand on your wrist. “Tae’s not done, I’ll get him to take care of it. Just go to bed.”

You nod curtly, and you hope she doesn’t see the silver lining your gaze, threatening to spill over. You do put your plate away in the sink, to be washed later, and then you head to your bedroom, seeking the cool reprieve of your own safe haven.

You can’t help yourself, glancing towards the door as you leave the kitchen. Jungkook is already outside, and Taehyung is speaking with him leaning against the door frame. You think it’s a relief you can’t see Jungkook from here - you’d probably have broken down right then and there, and you doubt you would have survived the embarrassment. 

You lean against the door of your bedroom once you’re finally in, and you take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut. When Jungkook’s pained features appear behind your eyelids, you immediately open your eyes again.

There’s a box on your bed, next to a folded piece of paper. Curiosity replaces the agony in your chest momentarily…

Until you see your name on the folded piece of paper, and realize what this is.

Tears fill your eyes so quickly this time around that you can’t stop them, and they fall freely on your cheeks as you take a wobbly step forward. 

He’s left you a letter. And the box is clearly a jewelry box - there’s something so strange about the sight that it breaks your heart all over again, until the throbbing in your chest is so stark you barely can feel the paper as your hands reach for it, unfolding it carefully.

Your vision is blurry behind your tears, and as you see he’s written lines and lines of words for you, you let out a broken sob as you sit on your bed. 

It takes you five minutes before you’re actually able to read, and you read it so many times you think you know the letter by heart.

Hey peach, I know you asked me not to call you that. I promise this is the last time, and I’ll never bother you with that name again. I just didn’t know how to start this letter… I hope you’ve been doing okay. The last few days have been shit for me, and I feel really fucking guilty for everything. I wish it’d never happened, I wish I’d come home to you so that we could tell Taehyung about us… but as you said, there is no us anymore. Thank you for the few months we spent together. You taught me a lot about myself, and I really enjoyed spending time with you. I’ll look back fondly on the memories I have of us. I really want to apologize. For everything that I did. I wish I’d never gone to Paris. I’m sorry that I left, and that I let old promises to Gabrielle ruin what was between us. I’m sorry I wasn’t more upfront about how I felt for you too. It was all just so new to me, and I thought we had a long while ahead of us to figure everything out… I’m sorry that I was wrong. I don’t expect this letter to change anything. I just wanted to let you know how I feel, and I don’t think I would be able to speak to you face to face. Maybe that makes me a coward, but it is what it is. I got you a gift in Paris, before things went to hell. I couldn’t bring myself to return it or keep it, so I hope you enjoy it. You don’t have to keep it either, I just wanted you to still have it. Finally, I hope you have a nice summer. I hope you have fun, and I hope you find someone that treats you the way that you deserve. Someone Taehyung would approve of hopefully! You deserve it more than you can imagine. Take care, Jungkook

Your gaze is blurry behind the tears again, yet you manage to blink them away. You think, maybe you’ve run out of tears. Maybe you’ll go dry and desiccated like you died in the desert, and you think, maybe you deserve it.

You’ve never received a love letter. And though Jungkook didn’t confess, you feel like perhaps you’re holding his heart in your hands like he’s holding yours in his. Perhaps he did care for you, perhaps Gabrielle really was just a momentary mistake.

You take a deep breath in, and though it’s shaky, it does ease some ache in your heart. Not everything - the hole is still gaping wide open, and you reckon only time can fix it.

You put the letter down, picking up the jewelry box instead. Your hands are still trembling, yet you manage to open it to reveal a thin, shiny gold chain. The pendant that sits on the velvety cushion breaks you all over again, yet you don’t hesitate before putting it on.

Your fingers, suddenly steady, secure the necklace around your neck, and then your hand falls to the pendant. 

The peach sits light in your palm, a reminder of what your relationship with Jungkook should have been.

Prev | Chapter 12.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

:'''''') the letter right? Did I cry writing it? Yes I did. Did I cry the fifteen times I've reread it? Yes, I also did. What did you guys think of this chapter?:')

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[disasterofastory]

mountainmen!141 x Reader

Let's say you leave the city behind to rent a small cabin in the middle of the woods you found on the internet under the name of John Price.

Let's say you meet him for the first time when you get to the cabin. He waits for you to give you the keys and show you around. He mentions that they live nearby, at the other end of a narrow path winding through the trees.

Let's say you call him because you can't shut the bedroom window, but instead of John, a man named Johnny shows up. His accent is thick, and his words are sometimes hard to follow, but he fixes the window for you.

Let's say you go over to them after a few days with some cookies. When you get there, you meet Kyle, who invites you in for tea. He explains that the others have gone into town to pick up supplies for the approaching storm.

Let's say when the storm finally hits, it's worse than expected. Simon comes over to check on you, making sure you are safe in the cabin.

and maybe maybe

Let's say looks can mislead. Here they are, buff, handsome men, living together in the middle of the woods. You'd think they could have any woman they wanted, right?

But why are they here then, isolated like this?

I will tell you why.

Despite their successful military careers, their personal lives have always been a mess.

John? Divorced. Twice. His job and his loyalty to his men team always came first. His marriages didn't last long. His wives left when they realized they would never be his priority.

Simon doesn't talk much. Stoic to a fault. It's hard to build a relationship when you barely say a word. He is great under pressure, but dating? A whole different battlefield.

Kyle? He learned early that his looks are more of a curse than a blessing. No one ever trusted him. His partners always thought he'd cheat. He's charming, fun, and smart, so why would a guy like him settle for just one person when it seems like he could have anyone?

And Johnny, poor Johnny. He's never been with a woman. People say he's too clingy, too much in every way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and not everyone can handle that.

But now, you are in the picture too, aren't you?

[avocado-writing]

The idea of Wade as a used car salesman found a love of his life during his midlife crisis before he met Logan. They don’t have a clue that he’s Deadpool. They just fall in love with Wade the used car salesman Wade Wilson, even see him as a funny, harmless person till one day his partner showing a picture of Deadpool and goes “He looks hot, could we find some costume to wear next time we fuck, dear?”

Wade totally forgot that he’s retired from Deadpool cause he’s in his suit, ready to fuck the love of his life for eternity. 👀

Wade Wilson knew he was in love the first time you cried laughing over one of his stupid jokes.

You’re probably too good for him with your easy smile and kind heart, and he knows he’s punching above his weight when he asks you out - but somehow you end up saying yes. 

At the bar that night he keeps you laughing until there are tears in your eyes and then continues the show in bed. It’s so lovely to have you all giggly under him, pressed into the mattress as he makes you cum so hard all you can do is moan. 

You lie there, walking your fingers up and down his chest, molasses-slow as the streetlights outside your apartment silhouette you both in fluorescence. 

“I like you, Wade. You’re nice,” you sigh, in a way which suggests you don’t often meet nice people. Ah man, he fucking melts. He’s never letting you go. 

Your relationship is pretty easy. He never feels like he has to work to impress you or keep you onside, you like him for him. It’s a… refreshing feeling, from a world where Wade Wilson constantly feels like he’s too much. 

He catches the Deadpool keyring on your house keys one night after the two of you have grabbed pizza on the way home; spotting the telltale red and black while trying to keep a pile of boxes in place between his hands and his chin. 

“Oh, Deadpool fan?” he asks, trying to affect nonchalance. He sees you get a little flustered. 

“I mean… yeah? Back in his heyday I thought he was cute, kind’ve a shame he disappeared. Merc with a mouth, what’s not to love?” you pause for a second. “He reminds me of you actually.”

Wade laughs at that way too loud and way too hard.

“What? No. That’s crazy!”

You throw him a side-eye but don’t comment further. 

He lets it rest for a couple of days so as not to draw suspicion, but when you make yourself a cup of coffee and his own mask is staring back at him from the ceramic, he can’t hide his wandering eyes. 

“What’s up?” you ask. 

“Nothing. Just didn’t realise they made those.” He didn’t get a cut. Should he have gotten a cut? Would have been nice if whoever had merchandised his face had asked him if he was cool with it.  

“Oh, look, everyone has a crush on at least one superhero, okay? It’s impossible not to. They’re everywhere and they’re hot!”

He lets himself digest this. You think Deadpool is a superhero? He didn’t get that much. Mostly he was referred to as “god’s curse to crimefighting”. But also you have a crush on him? Both of these facts are… interesting. 

“I… think Deadpool is hot, too,” Wade blurts out when he realises he’s been silent for ten uninterrupted seconds. 

“Oh,” you reply, settling down a little when it turns out he’s in agreement with you. “Well, cool! Glad we can agree.”

Phew. Got outta that one, then. 

He really doesn’t think any more of it, or tries not to, until a couple of weeks later when you bring it up in bed. 

“Wade, can I ask something kinda kinky?”

Cuddled in post-coital bliss, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin, he pauses. 

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely, sweet cheeks. I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

“How do you feel about roleplay?”

He turns to you with a grin which threatens to split his face in half.

“Oh, you’ve been keeping that under your hat!” he laughs, “But, in answer to the question, very positive. What were you thinking? Cop and criminal? Nurse and patient? I’m down to play any of those roles by the way, I believe in equal gender opportunities in the bedroom.”

You chuckle, but when you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and try to work out how to phrase the next part of the question, he cottons on. 

“Oh my god. You want me to roleplay Deadpool, don’t you?”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to! It’s just, you said you thought he was sexy… so I wondered…”

He puts a finger on your lips, stoppering the spill of panic from your lips. 

“Baby, I am so down to clown that you might as well call me Pennywise. Let me sort the details and I’ll give you the best night of in-character boning that’s ever been known to man.”

You look giddy at that promise. Truth be told, he’s kinda excited himself. 

Wade retrieves the suit the next day and feels a little weird putting it back on, covering his body again with red and black. When he’s done this in the past it’s in order to go and kill like, a lot of people, not to fulfil a fantasy. But hey - there’s a first time for everything. And it’ll make you so happy, too.

You scream when he taps on your window from his perch on your fire escape. Admittedly he should have told you he was coming, but he thought it could be a fun and sexy surprise. He was wrong. 

“WHAT THE FUCK—!”

Wade whips off the mask as you lunge for your kitchen knife set, hands up in a gesture of peace. 

“Baby! Babe, it’s just me!”

You go limp with relief, leaning against the counter to support yourself. 

“Holy shit! Wade, what the fuck do you think you’re…”

You trail off as you take in the picture of your boyfriend crawling in through the tiny window decked out in his suit. An eyebrow raises. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah! See, I told you I’d sort it.”

Anger and fear now completely ablated, you walk a slow circle around where he stands in your kitchen, appraising his look. 

“This is a high quality suit. Where did you get it?”

“Peter,” he says quickly. This isn’t a lie. He did get it from Peter… Peter’s locker anyway. You look confused. 

“Our coworker Peter?” When Wade nods you furrow your brow. “He… he hasn’t fucked in this suit, has he?”

“No!” says Wade with far too much force. Actually he can’t prove that. Now it’s an image he can’t shake from his mind. Not super conducive to the mood. 

He takes a knife from his belt, and your eyes go wide in a mixture of panic and arousal. 

“Oh my god…”

“It’s blunt! Well. It’s sharp enough for me to cut your underwear off, which I’ve been rocking a semi all day from imagining…”

From the smile which takes up your face, he knows he’s done right. 

Any way you ask him to fuck you, he does. Over your dresser. Against your wall. While running the dulled point of baby knife over the curve of your ass as he pistons his hips inside you, getting the mess of your cum all over the front of his suit. It’s filthy. It’s fantastic. 

But when you lay there cuddled up to his chest that night, Wade feels… conflicted. It isn’t that he’s lying to you, exactly, but it feels like he’s keeping a pretty fucking big secret. 

If you knew, would you still like him? Still want to be with him? Having a crush on a superhero is one thing, but being with one is entirely different. Ask any of the assorted Spider-Man and their various fucked up partners. It isn’t always pretty.

As if determined to take his mind away from this thought you nuzzle into his side, blissfully fucked out. He buries his lips into your hair. 

It never needs to be an issue. Deadpool is retired. He’s never gonna be used for non-kinky reasons again. 

…right?

taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

[onlyangel4]

put some clothes on. LS2. SMAU.

logan sargeant x actress!reader

in which logan is dating an actress who is not afraid to do sex scenes and play risque controversial characters so when they hard launchf1 fandom decides that she is not wag material. but logan and reader do not give a fuck.

faceclaim- sydney sweeney

warnings: 18+ sexual content, cursing, slut shaming

author's note: please do keep on sending requests, the more detailed the better! i write written fic and smaus for most of the grid and a handful of associated people.

y/ninsta

liked by zendaya, tomholland, hunterschafer and 1,230,101 others

y/ninsta: save a horse ride a cowboy

view all 13,291 comments

zendaya: you are glowing my love

y/ninsta: that means a lot coming from you, queen of the glow

y/nfan: miss girl you can not just soft launch and leave us like this i stg

user3: guys we have lost her. to a man.

user4: oh y/n i thought what we had was special

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, danielricciardo, landonorris and 157,601 others

logansargeant: life lately

view all 8,301 comments

f1fan: omg omg logan is soft launching

user6: i'm surprised he even knows what a soft launch is

danielricciardo: i have known who your girl is for like six months and i am still fucking shocked

user8: six months! they have been together that long and we had no idea?

user7: daniel spill who tf is she

alexalbon: finally soft launching the girl that keeps on stealing lily from me

f1wags

liked by f1fan, user9, user10 and 56,798 others

f1wags: admin can not believe that they are typing this right now but logan sargeant just hard launched his relationship with y/n y/ln by attending the season two premiere of euphoria. y/ln plays cassie in the popular show and has won awards for her work but she is also known to play out there characters and do intimate scenes in film. something pretty much unheard of for a wag. what are your thoughts on this couple.

view all 908 comments

user9: my two worlds are colliding i adore y/n and i hate the current discourse around her relationship with logan. yes she plays these characters and films these scenes but it is all for entertainment. she is hollywood's it girl at the moment for a damn good reason.

user10: i can't believe i have seen logan sargeants girlfriend's tits that is mental

user6: that just isn't wag behaviour

user11: not logan dating hollywood's whore

f1fan: she will never be a worthy wag her behaviour is just inappropriate

y/ninsta

liked by logansargeant, danielricciardo, alexademie and 1,923,731 others

y/ninsta: my baby euphoria season two is out now ! i had the best time filming this with my favourite people i hope you all love it as much as i do.

view all 21,438 comments

logansargeant: so proud of you my love

user12: proud of your girlfriend for having sex on tv? you do you boo

danielricciardo: logan introduced me to euphoria and i am fucking addicted

user13: how can you support this relationship

user14: i am both a f1 and y/n fan and i am fucking disgusted by the comments over the post. this is a woman celebrating the release of something that she had worked so hard on and you are all criticing her just because you think you know what is right for her boyfriend. fucking childish.

liked by y/ninsta and logansargeant

logansargeant posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: so proud of my girl

user15 replied to your story: tell your girl to put her tits away

logansargeant blocked user15

y/ninsta

liked by logansargeant, zendaya, lilymhe and 2,129,091 others

y/ninsta: somebody pinch me ! i collaborated with frankie's bikinis to bring you a line of seven bikinis. the ones featured in these pictures are my three favourites but i wholeheartedly believe that there is a style for everyone in the line. drops on the 1st of may !

view all 21,210 comments

lilymhe: my jaw just dropped you are so hot

alexalbon: can confirm she has not stopped looking at these pictures since you posted them

logansargeant: that's my girl

y/ninsta: say it louder for the people in the back

logansargeant: THAT'S MY GIRL

user17: how can you hate this couple they are the cutest

user18: put some clothes on

user19: put some clothes on

user20: put some clothes on

logansargeant

liked by y/ninsta, danielricciardo, zendaya and 250,982 others

tagged: y/ninsta

logansargeant: please stop telling my girlfriend to put some clothes on it is detrimental to my mental health

view all 9,281 comments

y/insta: they could never make me

logansargeant: exactly what i want to hear babygirl

user20: babygirl! i'm going to go lay in traffic

alexalbon: pr is going to kill you mate

logansargeant: worth it

user21: everyone say sorry mister sargeant it will not happen again

user22: sorry mister sargeant it will not happen again

user23: sorry mister sargeant it will not happen again

user24: sorry mister sargeant it will not happen again

[verstappen-cult]

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16

— 01. THE BEGINNING

NEXT PART — [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles. content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as you’d like! some cursing. note: hiii i love being a little delulu, so i had to do this. it is also my first time doing a smau for the f1 fandom, so be kind with me! if you see some mistakes please know that english is not my first language and i noticed them once everything was finished, lol. ♡

INSTAGRAM POST

📍MIAMI, FL

Liked by lilycollins, alex_albon and 365,751 others

yourusername unexpected trip. 🧃

view all 4,655 comments

user1 Alex x Y/N content incoming????

user2 they haven't been seen together in a while user3 i don't think they're friends anymore user4 he left a comment lol

alex_albon brownie's the real star in this pic

yourusername forget about pic credits.

user5 she was in greece a couple of days ago, oh to be rich

user6 and pretty user7 and have famous friends user8 and BE famous

williamsracing Thanks for accepting our invitation, we can't wait to have you with us this weekend!

alex_albon YOUR invitation???

user9 we're sleeping in the fact that she's gonna be in the paddock this weekend for the first time

user10 she's living the dream

TWITTER

Y/N’s IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM POST

Liked by haileybieber, tomholland2013, landonorris and 972,431 others

yourusername i only came here to drink and watch guys in very fast cars.

📸: @alex_albon who i had to physically drag out of his hotel room after free practice was over.

view all 3,865 comments

user11 caption is so real

user12 she's just like us fr

tchalamet call me next time you're in nyc

user13 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE user14 timmy is doing what all of us want to do

haileybieber pretty girl

user15 idk abt u guys but i see lando in the likes 👀

user16 don't read too much into it user17 they’re probable friends user18 i wanna be her

alex_albon i'm so good at taking pics i should dedicate my life to photography

yourusername please stick to driving

user19 i want their friendship :(

ALEX’S IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM STORIES

Seen by zendaya, charles_leclerc and 287,386 others

there is no cause in calling or messaging alex, you know he will not answer. not when qualy is just an hour away and he needs to be prepared.

you don’t know where you are. you see the main entrance a couple of meters away, but you can’t remember where to go from there. but you also can’t stand all day in a place you don’t know, surrounded by fans and people too eager to notice how lost you look. the best you can do is walk around and find your way back; if you have any luck you’ll find alex’s garage before he has to go out. to wish him luck and punch him in the face.

you send him one last message, promising to make his life a living hell, and put your phone away.

you’re trying to follow the path you remember in your head, when someone comes barreling into you.

“hey!” the person says a little out of breath. “i was just looking for you.”

you take off your sunglasses to get a better look and it dawns on you that you definitely know this person. or at least you’ve seen him countless of times in your tv, sometimes in alex’s instagram stories too.

“charles!” you really don’t know him, this is definitely the first time you are speaking to him, but you’ve never been so happy to see someone you barely know before. “oh my god, you won’t believe what alex did to me.”

“i know,” he says immediately and you furrow your eyebrows. he shows you his phone, as if that will tell you what you need to know, but when you don’t speak, he smiles hesitantly. you don’t know if the blush on his cheeks is because he was running to get to you or if it’s for a whole different reason. “i saw your story and thought maybe i could help you?”

you process his words for a few seconds, until you realize who really is in front of you. “oh my god, charles!” you exclaim a little louder, drawing attention, and you witness how people begin to notice charles’ presence because of that. he looks at you with confusion on his face, race suit hanging low around his waist. “you’re not supposed to be here, you should be in your car.”

charles’ blush deepens. “yeah,” he says, scratching his neck and avoiding your gaze. “but i couldn’t leave a pretty girl here all alone.”

now it’s your turn to blush, cheeks heating up so much that you’re sure everyone around you can see it.

“let’s go, please. i don’t want to be the reason why you’re gonna be scolded for.”

you walk beside him, trying to give him space as he takes selfies with a few fans that have the courage to approach him. however, charles apologizes with a smile when he sees you a couple of meters away and, as you walk side by side, you can’t help but notice heads turning in your direction and whispers of your name and his.

you fall into an easy conversation that ends up sooner than you’d have liked. but you don’t part ways until his number is on your phone and the promise to text him on your lips.

TWITTER

Y/N’s IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM POST

Liked by charles_leclerc, romeestrijd and 676,823 others

yourusername what an incredible weekend! i got to attend my first GP thanks to @/williamsracing (and alex too, he gets mad if i don’t say he had to do with it) and meet new and amazing people. let’s hope this is not the last. 🏎️🤞🏼

view all 7,665 comments

user20 SHE LOOKED SO BEAUTIFUL

user21 mother is mothering

williamsracing Oh no, thank YOU for accepting our invitation and enjoying with us, even if you got lost for a minute. 💙

yourusername it was all alex’s fault alex_albon NO DON'T LISTEN TO HER, THEY ARE FRAMING ME !!!!

user22 everybody calm down… CHARLES IS IN HER LIKES

user23 so it’s true what everyone’s been saying? they were together on saturday??? user24 idk but there are pics of them walking together user25 not my boyfriend trying to steal my girlfriend

romeestrijd you need to take me w you next time. ❤️‍🔥

yourusername we'll have so much fun! user26 does this mean you're going to the next race?

user27 why do people always assume a driver's dating someone when they like a pic??? u’re acting crazy

user28 like friendships between a man and a woman exists, HELLO !?!?

charles_leclerc thanks for stopping by.

user29 CHARLES WHAT user30 Stopping by where? user31 what do you mean?? i mean what do you- what do you mean??

user32 not Y/N replying to all her friends comments and not charles' 🤣🤣

user33 she's too much for him user34 HE'S too much for her x

note: ups, hello to you again… if you make it here, thank u sm! let me give you a lil kiss on the forehead. btw i’m planning on making this a series, so if you liked it please let me know. and if you want to request something, feel free! comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼

[bliss-in-the-void]

No bc Satoru has this whole hallucination-dream-limbo sequence where he’s talking to Suguru about how he wanted to give Sukuna his all to get through to him and show him how he understood his loneliness only to have Suguru go “…you’re making me jealous.”

As an author, what Gege did here is genius because that is such a loaded statement to make in response to Satoru processing his fight with Sukuna. It can mean so many different things and we, the audience, are free to interpret exactly how Suguru meant it.

On one hand, you can say he said he was jealous because he wanted to be the one Satoru fought with all his might. He wanted to be as strong as Satoru, to match him in prowess, and hearing that Sukuna was the one to do it instead made him jealous.

On the other hand, you can say that he said he was jealous because Satoru recognized that Sukuna was lonely and wanted to get through to him, something that he was too late to recognize in Suguru when he was descending into madness, and that in turn made Suguru jealous because it was as if Satoru was saying “I recognized the loneliness in him and wanted to do something about it” when he failed to do that same thing with Suguru.

I personally interpret it the second way more (the first one is very valid, but I just see things the second way), because of the next lines.

He made Suguru cry. While laughing. Once again, holy shit is that such a loaded scene. What did Suguru’s tears mean? We have never seen him cry before. Not when Riko died, not at any point when he was losing his mind, not even when he died by Satoru’s hand. So why, when Satoru said he wished Suguru was there to wish him luck before he fought, did he finally get brought to such strong emotion that he cried?

Was it because he was happy to hear that Satoru still thought of him, even in his final moments?

Was it because after all these years, Satoru never thought ill of him and pictured him there beside him, and he was relieved?

Was it because he regretted making the choices he did that led to him not being there by Satoru’s side?

Or, in a very indirect way, was it an admission of love from Satoru that made Suguru happy?

I wonder that, because of these panels from Chapter 238:

Kashimo asked Sukuna, “if you’re so satisfied being alone, why did you refuse to die and turn yourself into cursed fingers?”

Sukuna’s response is, “Love is worthless. I’ve never needed anyone to satisfy me.”

Which is a directly opposing statement to the one that Satoru had just made to Suguru.

Sukuna: I only have to worry about myself and I get to do as I please. I am satisfied by myself. I don’t need love.

Satoru: I worried about everyone else my entire life and I was controlled by the society. I was not satisfied, but I would have been if you had been there with me, Suguru.

That. Is. Powerful. Those panels imply that love is what made Satoru weak. He did not feel complete because he didn’t have Suguru. He had all of the power in the world, he had status, he had students that depended on him, other friends even, and he still was not satisfied because Suguru wasn’t there.

Sukuna on the other hand recognized how detrimental love was because of what it did to people, how it made them weak, and he decided he didn’t need it.

Those panels were such an indirect-direct conversation between Satoru and Suguru.

Essentially, they were saying:

Suguru: You fought with all of your might and I wish that you recognized my loneliness so that I could have been there with you

Satoru: I was at the peak of my power and I had the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I was allowed to go all-out to fight yet I just wanted you to be there with me

It’s just. Ugh. They’re saying they want each other in the most infuriatingly roundabout way.

[corollaservant]

Lotus // Choso x f!reader (18+)

Synopsis: He was supposed to have his brother's undivided attention. Until he invited you over for summer break. Since he loves him that much, you're the one who's paying. (5.8k)

Warnings: 18+ dark, dubcon/noncon, humiliation, college, f.masturbation, use of "nii-chan" from Yuji, obsession/yandere brother, degradation, violence, dacryphilia, breath+impact play, dom!choso, reader gets a sunburn but it's mentioned 1x? and only as feeling pain

A/N: yk how everyone always makes Choso the nerdy, creepy, virgin perv? well i kinda want it reversed (he has killed people btw) [ao3]

Choso loves his family. That's why he doesn't like you.

Seriously, couldn't his brother not bring you over his place for summer break? He gets it, Yuji is young and can never say no, his best friend turned him down for a summer course and Choso guesses you were his second choice. Though Yuji would never tell him that. Or you for the matter. Choso can't wrap his head around why Yuji likes you so much. He knows his brother, no actually, he loves his brother so he knows it's not some crush otherwise Yuji would've shyly approached him and confessed. It seems like his brother just genuinely has a great time with you and that pisses him off. You're loud, that's fine, so is Yuji. But Yuji’s smart, caring, sensitive. You on the other hand... you break things on your way, stumble, laugh obnoxiously and make a mess in his clean kitchen. You're insufferable. So of course, Choso scoffs and rejects Yuji's offer at first.

"She's not coming over, Yu." He tells his little brother, "This was supposed to be our bonding time, remember? I planned out both weeks for us." Choso was excited—he really was. Getting to have his brother around was the best thing that could've happened to him. He'd take Yuji to the movies, carousel, beach, for beers; ok, no, he laughs, he'd definitely get them in a club, maybe a casino? Some strip show? Yuji was an adult now and Choso couldn't wait to listen to his college stories; though he knew there probably weren't many, judging by how nice his brother was. Really, a very likeable kid (adult, he corrects himself).

Yuji begs him. Tells him you'll help around the house, says you've never travelled before, you don't have any plans and you won't cause trouble. It's when Choso starts doubting himself. Ok sure, Choso isn't young per se, but he's definitely fun to be around, right? Does his brother seriously not think he's cool enough anymore? Would he be sad if he said no? He can't stand the thought of making his brother sad. Not because of him, that's certain. This is why he now has you in his house strutting around in flimsy shorts and a barely covering shirt, puffy eyes from your sleep and messy hair. On his kitchen counter asking if there's coffee. He scoffs.

"I made some. For Yuji. You can get some yourself.” He's been up hours ago, went for his run and excitedly waits for his brother to wake up. But now you’re there. Choso couldn't wake Yuji up, he practically spoiled him anyway he could, sleep was no exception. However, you and Yuji unfortunately do not share the same schedule so he is cursed (because blessed would be a euphemism at best) with your presence.

"Alright, damn." You groan, ever since you got there, he seems constantly pissed off with you, but you just woke up, you’re groggy and in his house so you can't do much but yawn. You walk past him, he's too absorbed in his phone, not bothering to look. 

"When do you think Yuji will be up?" He asks, as the smell of coffee suddenly makes you feel alive again.

"Oh I don't know, I'll wake him up soon, we'll go for a swim today." You giggle, you'd been so excited to go to the beach, swimsuits were the first thing you packed. Yuji told you about this beach he wanted you to go to, you’d promised to bring your polaroid and take pictures.

"No, you're not." Choso lifts his head up as he puts the phone down. "Me and Yuji have plans today. You can chill here, we'll be back before 9." It’s sharp and sounds non-negotiable as you stop in your tracks.

"What plans? I didn't know—"

"Why would you? This is our day, you guys can hang later or whatever." But Choso is already pissed. Like actually pissed. If you don’t know then…hadn't Yuji told you or were you just that dumb? He weighs in on the latter. Regardless, he can't argue with a girl his brother's age.

"But I–" You try to protest, as you stand next to the counter, your mug in your hands and you haven't even taken a sip when you’re cut off.

"I'll go wake him up now. Oh, and wear some proper clothing, will you? You've taken this family trip way too seriously." He spits and heads upstairs, leaving you dumbfounded. Coffee suddenly doesn't make you feel that alive. 

-

Yuji is sad. Sad because none of you want to compromise. Choso arranged for them to rent bikes and tour around town; the boardwalk along the seafront was ideal for the activity. His brother had always been athletic and loved the idea so Choso had contacted the shop owner to rent in advance. He knew he was creepy, who the hell rented a bike a week prior? It’s not like they wouldn’t find one. Still, the store closed at 4 PM and it was already past one (Yuji and his sleep) so they’d have to hurry. He’d prepared lunch and was excited for some brotherly time. As for you? Choso honestly didn’t care. You could go for a walk for all that mattered, it’d be four hours at most, you’d be fine. But then there was you, reminding Yuji of the impulsive promise he gave you twelve hours ago. The truth lies in the middle. Yuji mixed up the days—could you blame him? You and Choso bombarded him with plans and ideas meanwhile the poor boy only wanted to rest and enjoy his vacation. So he’d told you about today, when he’d promised Choso days ago. 

‘’Guys, I’m so sorry.’’ Yuji frowns as you both look at him. ‘’I promise, we can do both! One has to call it off so we can do theirs tomorrow.’’ His eyes gleam like usual, but he looks anxious. Probably because he knows both of you. 

‘’But you promised me first.’’ Choso speaks, he doesn’t sound condescending, he’d never raise his voice at his baby brother.

‘’Yeah, well he promised me yesterday!’’ You retort childishly. It’s like a race you two have, who will answer first, a competition, who can win Yuji over.

‘’Please don’t fight, we can do both, come on now, who wants to do their activity tomorrow?’’ Yuji sighs, looking across the kitchen table. He’s the youngest, but he sounds like a kindergarten teacher at the moment.

‘’Yuji, what do you want?’’ Choso emphasizes. Good, that should give him his answer, he thinks.

‘’Yeah, Yuji, why don’t you tell Choso our plan is waay more fun?’’ You consider sticking out your tongue but one look at Choso and you keep your mouth shut.

‘’You know I can’t choose! I love both.’’ He pouts. ‘’Don’t make me do this, can’t you guys figure it out on your own? I’m serious. I’m sorry…” Yuji’s eyes fall. Choso can tell and he suddenly feels responsible. Not for his plans, no. For seeing a sadness cross his brother's face. His heart aches seeing him so passionate to end this stupid debate, so caring, never wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings. He deep down wishes he came first. Choso’s older now and he realizes he can’t continue; a sigh leaves his lips as he speaks up. 

‘’It’s fine, Yu. Be back soon.’’ He backs off. Again. He has to put up a front for his brother. He doesn’t bother giving you a glance, as he exits the kitchen. He wonders if he’s ever despised someone that much before. To the point of choking them…no, not that. That’d be too nice for you. You deserve an agonizing death. He imagines your body stretched out on a medieval rack as your limbs crack one by one. You hadn’t been there more than a day and you were already fucking up his schedule. And in his own house, too. As if dressing like some whore wasn’t enough, seriously what ever happened to modesty? In his head his thoughts make sense, a stranger meddling in his newly amended relationship with his brother. Did you even know how much he cherished him? The lengths he’d go to protect and be there for him? This summer break was supposed to be more than a brotherly reunion. He wanted to be Yuji’s friend this time. He bets you don’t even know what it’s like to have no one around. 

He might go for another run, he considers. You’d be gone within a week. But even when his thoughts subside, he still thinks of ways to put you in your place for good.

-

By the time you’re home, polaroids in your bag and salt on your skin, Choso is pacing up and down the living room. It’s 8:30 PM and Yuji hasn't texted him since noon. 

‘’Where the hell were you, Yuji?’’ Choso completely ignores you as he looks at his brother, who is licking off a half melted ice cream and flaunts a newly acquired tan.

‘’Did you get a sunburn?’’ Choso’s anxious, damn it that kid, always failing to reapply SPF.

‘’I’m fine, nii chan.’’ Yuji laughs, as some ice cream falls on the floor. ‘’I’ll go take a shower or do you wanna go first?’’ He asks you.

‘’She can go first.’’ Choso tells him and you’re taken aback.

‘’Really?’’ You sound surprised. There’s no way he’d ever be kind to you, you knew that seconds after you met him. 

‘’Yeah, want to have some time with Yuji, before we head out.’’ He sounds casual as he brings a wipe to clean Yuji’s ice cream. His back muscles flex under his compression shirt, he looks kind of messy, had he worked out again? Unruly hair falls on his eyes as you try to tear away your gaze.

‘’C-cool.. I’m going upstairs.’’ You announce and leave, stumbling on the first step. What did you think of right now? 

Choso’s bathroom is spacious and allows you to take your sweet time rinsing salt and sunscreen off your skin. Yuji may have not been sunburnt but you couldn’t say the same. Your skin aches as you lather your back and thighs, were you sunburnt everywhere? You make a mental note to apply some moisturizing cream you brought. You had a good time with Yuji, he told you about his best friend’s summer course (financial crime, corruption and money laundering— dude sounded weird) and not being able to make it, how they’d meet and how his relationship with Choso had drastically changed in the span of a year. Yuji didn’t even know about Choso and took some time to warm up to him. As his brother, that is. But Choso was the best brother he could have, he told you. You had trouble believing that. Choso’s demeanor was far from.. best. You sigh remembering your brief coffee encounter. How he’d looked at you above his phone, his cold eyes with tired bags under as his long hair fell on his face, unruly and..sexy. What? Why do you think that? Your mind goes through images like a film projector—his long torso peeking under his compression shirt as he stretched and accidentally revealed a v-line and a happy trail. You feel a sting as water falls down the drain; the lotus and white tea fragrance from the body foam he has envelops your face. You close your eyes and think of him in more…compromising scenarios. Behind you for example. Strong arms snaking around your waist as he presses against you, droplets falling between you while his mouth latches on your neck. A muscular, veiny hand finding your chest and caressing gently…only to move to your lower belly and lazily circle around the entrance. You fight the urge to let a soft moan as you imagine him teasing. Yeah, he’d definitely tease your slit up and down, pecking on your neck until you begged. ‘’Choso..please! J-just one finger!’’ and he’d laugh, mouth contracting on your delicate neck and rubbing around your clit. You’re getting yourself off, what the hell are you doing right now? But could you really blame yourself? You never thought of Choso like that but you do now so you can’t question it further. You let a finger slip slowly inside you. It’s wet and fills you up well—not as good as you think Choso’s thick, calloused fingers would, but it does the job. You wonder how good he’d feel and you’re getting yourself off only by picturing his fingers. You’re suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door. 

‘’Aren’t you done yet? It’s been half an hour. Get out.’’ Choso growls behind the door, you remove your finger and quickly gulp down. 

‘’I’m almost done.’’ You faintly say, shit, the man you had fingers in your cunt for, interrupted your daydream…of him. You quickly rinse off excess shampoo and exit. God, you needed to get laid instantly. 

-

When you come downstairs, Yuji is nowhere to be found. Choso is sitting on the couch, the TV plays a show he doesn’t watch as he scrolls on his phone.

‘’Where’s Yuji?’’ You’re wearing Yuji’s old T-shirt from when he was a gamer and skater and nothing under it. In your defense, it’s long and covers almost up to your knees. He doesn’t turn around.

‘’He left. Sent him off to meet his friend, his parents dropped him off.’’

‘’What friend?’’ As far as you knew Yuji told you all his friends were busy with summer courses.

‘’His best friend, Megumi, don’t even know that?” He sneers. Megumi? The money laundering guy?

But he—

‘’He’s not staying long.’’ He has to be joking. 

‘’Why didn’t you tell me? I wanted to meet him, Yuji told me–’’

‘’Why should I? Yuji needs time with some real friends. Told him you felt sick or whatever.’’ 

‘’Are you serious? Why would you do that? Where are they?’’ You can’t believe this guy, first he treats you like a pile of shit, then he’s nice to you by offering you to go first…wait. Did he send you up first so he could convince Yuji to go out without you? Could he be so shitty?

‘’Oh my fucking God, that’s why you told me to shower first didn’t you? What did you even tell Yuji?’’ This guy is unbelievable and you fight the urge to rip his hair out from the back. 

‘’Does it matter? He’s already gone. Serves you right.’’ Choso sounds relaxed, like he just stated tomorrow’s itinerary. 

‘’And what am I supposed to do here, huh? God, you’re so fucking annoying, I swear I’m texting Yuji right now.’’ You realize your phone’s upstairs and before you can turn around, a strong palm grabs your wrist forcefully.

‘’One more step and you’ll be spitting blood.’’ His eyes burn as you feel the pain from his grip.

‘’Let— go...’’ You ask, more like beg as he throws your hand away, it burns, partly due to the sun but also from the pressure of his grasp. 

You slowly drag your feet to the kitchen as you think of ways to hurt him. You hate this guy, you simply exist and he decides upon making your life living hell. Sure, he doesn’t do anything dramatic but he’s constantly interfering with your friendship. Yuji wants you there, he acts like he’s some unprotected child and constantly monitors him. You grab a glass from the cupboard as you feel the words slip out your mouth involuntarily.

‘’Yuji doesn’t like you.’’ You lie and before you even have the chance to have a sip, the glass soars in the air and falls with a loud thump, shattering in a million pieces as you’re turned to look at him. 

‘’What the fuck did you just say?’’ He spits. He scares you, you think, the way he’s hovering; he seems really angered.

‘’I said–’’ You can’t continue. Because he slaps you. On your face. With his palm. And it hurts so badly, you feel tears prick at your eyes, your wrist hurts and you can’t move around— each time the burn catches up to you. 

‘’Why don’t you say that again?’’ He goes on, he has not moved and still waits for your answer.

‘’S-stop..!” You muffle, as you bring a hand to your face, you want this resolved immediately, you’re kind of defenseless, since your phone’s out of your reach and you are alone. He also is extremely strong and it doesn’t help that you anger him, his muscles tense and you notice the veins on his neck pulsating.

‘’Useless bitch.’’ He hisses, ‘’Yuji doesn’t like me? Look at you and your pathetic self. You think he likes you? Yuji likes everyone, wake the fuck up. At first I thought he fucked you, cause why else would anyone want to hang out with you?’’ Choso is fed up with you. Fed up with being nice, fed up with compromising. In all honesty, he’d probably be fed up with anyone but Yuji, but you’re just the cherry on top. Did you seriously think you could try to contact Yuji? The fact you even dared to speak on his name angers him even more. And that’s why he continues while you break down slowly. 

‘’You come here, in my place to hang out with my brother. Dressing up like some common cockwhore and you know what? I really wouldn’t give a fuck, but taking him away from me? Did you two have fun at the beach? You wanted him to fuck, yeah? Otherwise, what are you even good for?’’ He goes on to bring a hand on your cheeks, squishing and bringing your mouth to open like a fish. Tears that welled up in your eyes now fall sideways as he mocks. Your back slams against the counter, you think you feel your feet touch glass splinters as you tremble. You ache everywhere and he keeps going. 

‘’S–ow-’’ You manage, you can’t articulate coherently and feel nauseous. 

‘’Wanna speak up?’’ His mouth twitches but he still isn’t fully smiling. He has to hide it for now. Each moment that goes by, he feels an immense pleasure. It’s like he takes out all his anger that he kept inside the previous days and he doesn’t want to stop. Not when his palm moves your pathetic face left and right, like he’s viewing some artifact. In the insanity of it all, he feels his cock hard. He is unconsciously rubbing on your t-shirt (Yuji’s t-shirt) and your face looks oddly pretty, puffy cheeks adorned with tears and wide pleading eyes. 

‘’L-uh- oh’’ You try to speak out and he gets exactly what you’re trying to communicate. 

‘’Y-Yu- i’’ You call out his brother's name. Seriously, it's like you’re asking for it.

‘’What about my brother, huh?’’ A hand is removed as more air fills your lungs. You sob. You feel searing pain in your chest, among all other body parts— fingerprints sit on both of your cheeks. 

‘’Y-Yuji— is.. he..is not..’’ You can hardly keep up, he is in close proximity and your tailbone hits against the counter from the way he has his body pressed onto you. A hardness pokes at your belly and you think that this wasn’t what you had in mind in the shower. He is aggressive and looks like he won’t back off soon.

‘’Not what? Speak the fuck up.’’ 

‘’N-not like this.’’ You cry. You can’t understand how these two are even related. Yuji’s a sunshine, the kindest soul you’ve known, of course he wouldn’t want to fuck you, he just felt sorry that you didn’t have plans and offered up some company. He’d do it for anyone. You were naive at times but you knew it was the reason you were there. Yuji couldn’t say no. He must’ve also not been aware of his brother’s rage otherwise you wouldn’t find yourself in this position. 

‘’You’re right.’’ Choso takes you out of your thoughts. ‘’He isn’t. But I am. It’s your lucky day.’’ His left hand is on the counter behind you, so there goes your chance to leave. To your left, there’s an exit. You could run. But your eyes betray you and his palm abrasively pushes your left shoulder back. 

‘’Don’t even fucking consider this.’’ He says as his knee nudges yours to the side. You’re standing the whole time and the rough poke makes your legs buckle—you almost fall but you’re brought to stand upright as he lifts Yuji’s shirt.

‘’Shit, wearing his shirt and everything, as if you’d ever be good enough to be his girlfriend.’’ He mocks, but his eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your chest as you wriggle under him. 

Choso is determined this punishment exceeds medieval torture. And you should definitely look on the bright side, you’d enjoy it by the end.

‘’Finger yourself.’’ He orders and your eyes widen. 

‘’W-what..’’ You tremble. He raises his right hand and you flinch but he goes on to move a strand stuck on your lips.

‘’Stop playing deaf. Touch your cunt like you did in the shower. What? Think I didn’t listen? That’s the type of nasty whore you are.’’

You can’t do it. You can’t— so he does it for you. His right palm brings your hand in between your open legs as you feel your own palm push against your entrance. He touches on your middle finger and slowly brings it in between your lower lips. He slips in your finger, which has to contract by the pressure he’s applying but his rough hand touches you too and you cry.

‘’C-Choso.. s—stop..’’ He moves your finger up and down your pussy, which lubricates steadily the more something’s thrusted inside it and then decides to stick his finger too. You gasp as it fills you fully and he finally breaks out a smile, seeing you cute and vulnerable like this really makes his cock hard. Your pretty eyes beg for him to stop but he can’t; it’s too good and you’re almost enjoying it already. 

‘’That’s right. It feels good, doesn’t it? Bet you were thinking about Yuji in the shower, weren’t you? It’s okay, I can show you how I fuck too.” Choso wants to turn you around and stuff his cock inside you without protest but that wouldn’t count as torture so he has to suppress his strained urge. He’ll make good use of that nuisance of a mouth you have first.

Both hands are removed from your cunt, slick trickles down your forcibly open thighs— the position makes your hips automatically open and buck up and you’re panting, scared and embarrassed that your body betrays you. Choso’s face is flushed, a red scarring which you hadn’t seen up close, seems even more crimson, as he gets you off the counter and pushes your elbows down. You’re dropped on the floor, right in front of a long bulge—you can pretty much expect what’s to follow but still make a timid effort.

‘’Cho–Choso, please..’’ but before you know it, his sweatpants are removed and you’re cut off by his cock in your mouth. Salty precum lingers on your tongue—not long, before he starts thrusting his hips in your mouth, fucking your face. You choke and gargle; he’s big and his girth squeezes around your palate as he hits the back of your throat, “Fucking finally..” he groans, “..good for once.” He praises, as if you make some conscious effort. 

He suddenly pulls out—spittle falls down his cock as he grabs you by the roots of your hair. You must be a funny sight, plush, swollen lips, puffy eyes, a wet, anticipating cunt and precum staining his brother’s shirt as he brings his face closer. Something urges him to kiss you. He wants to taste your desperation. He brings his mouth on yours, it’s wet and he pushes his tongue inside, he can taste the fluids as you cry. 

‘’Kiss me.” He says and tries harder. This time you comply, his tongue searches your open mouth as you follow his lead. His right palm rests on the counter behind you, trapping you in an embrace, which oddly enough creates a heat in your core. His mouth, despite the forcefulness, feels soft and you aimlessly try to close your legs in hope the nasty feeling goes away. You smell his scent, it must be his shower gel, lotus…and something else you read on the label but can’t remember now. You let tears fall from your eyes as you try to inhale only through your nose— mouth too occupied being devoured by him. 

Choso loves kissing you. He thinks to himself you are perfect, in your own way. So pretty with your mouth distracted and your legs open. For him, only. Yuji would be off limits after that. Not that you’d approach either one after, he guesses. Your kisses only make him eager to stuff your cunt more, his cock aches by the minute, that’s why he lifts you up. You’re so pliable, he thinks. He manhandles you and all you’ve said is a couple broken ‘’please’’. Did you actually want this? He considers the possibility, he isn’t unattractive in the slightest.

Your shirt has to go. He knows it’s Yuji’s but that doesn’t matter now that it has his precum on it. He finds himself wondering whether he fights internally against Yuji or you right now, seeing how he feels a pang of jealousy towards his little brother. But the idea is crazy so he brushes it off hurriedly. Your soft, squishy tits rise and fall to the pace of your anxiety. 

‘’You have pretty tits, does this hurt?’’ He asks as he slaps across your nipple, the skin around burns tenfold and you cry out.

‘’...h-hurts..’’ You yelp and he feigns sorrow.

‘’Aww, sorry, let me make this feel better. We’ve neglected her for some time, haven't we?’’ He looks at your cunt— glistening and lovely, ready to be defiled as he brings a thumb to play with your clit. 

‘’Spit.’’ You’re not that wet, what? It’s okay, he will change it.

You shyly gather spit and let a small glob fall down his digits as he pumps two fingers abruptly inside. Three strokes and your cunt starts drooling, he enjoys the sounds. But more than anything, he enjoys your tormented face, fighting to admit the pleasure you’re getting. His rough thumb circles around your clit as you’re forced to touch behind his neck to not fall off, you grip down his nape, failing to conceal your moans. 

‘’Cho-choso..mhm’’ You whine, brokenly, it pains you to feel so good, so fast. You don’t want this. You don’t.

‘’...Already squeezing down like some slut huh..’’ It takes Choso a lot of strength to not cum in the air like some loser, he’s delayed this too much and now you look irresistible, being fucked by his fingers on his counter. While you cry. And his brother’s out. 

‘’-Mm- Cho- Choso.. stop!’’ You moan, feeling close to an orgasm as he pumps faster and circles the nub simultaneously. Your fluids stain all the way up to his knuckles and if he keeps this up, you’ll probably coat his palm entirely.

‘’---f-fuck Cho–’’ He removes the fingers just before you can give in to the feeling— you pant frustrated. 

‘’Enough. Let’s test out how well that cunt feels… for a slut like yourself.’’ You want to protest, want to tell him to fuck off and leave you alone, but that’s clearly not an option. In a split second you’re turned over, thrown across the kitchen table, your limbs are stretched out and the direct contact makes you wince, as you clash with your chest. Choso admires the view. He spreads your legs out and you look ready to be fucked into oblivion.

He gives his stiff cock a couple thrusts, his red tip leaks his precum and he groans before his cockhead bumps with your entrance. You moan and he hasn’t even entered you yet as he brings a hand on the curve of your ass and smacks it. 

‘’Stop being so desperate, it’s embarrassing.’’ He sighs as he rubs his cockhead across your slit.

‘’P–please Cho–Choso..’’ You moan, understanding that you have it bad. ‘’W-want you in me...’’ You can’t even lie to yourself at this point, you’re pent up and need him. The rest of unresolved feelings is something you’ll deal with later. 

‘’Fucking needy slut, maybe Yuji was right bringing you over here. Gonna get fucked by his bro like some passed around whore? Want him to stuff you too?’’

‘’N-no! Choso! P–please- ugh.. need you..only you!” You beg as you move your hips, your dignity dissolved a long time ago. 

Choso mumbles something under his breath and pushes his cock to slide in your creamy walls as you moan—desperately. His cock is large and it hurts way more than his fingers, he hasn’t bottomed out yet but you already feel suffocated.

‘’Ch-Choso!’’

‘’What is it, slut? Be patient.’’ He huffs, but he isn’t patient himself as he prods at your cunt deeper, you’re way too tight to take him, squeezing down the entirety (or at least most of what can fit) in your little hole and he has to sigh. Your back muscles contract as your helpless hands tug at the table while he thrusts deeper and deeper, he brings his torso close to yours so he’s next to your hair, which he removes.

‘’Does that feel good? You take me so well for a common whore, baby.’’ He whispers on your neck, you shudder and cry out. 

‘’Mhmagh- Cho-Cho! Y-yes..feels s-so good! Don’t stop! Cho–’’

‘’Are you fucking stupid? Don't…don’t tell me what to do.’’ He straightens himself and grabs your hips. His cock lunges in your cunt, he’s poking at what feels like your cervix, when he slaps your reddened ass. It should appall you, it should make you wince but he notices your pussy tightening and clamping down. So you’re enjoying this? What a nasty fucking slut that you are. 

‘’C-Cho– i ughn I’m cumming fuck!’’ You sob and he fastens his pace. You’re overstimulated, overly teased and over the edge. Your hands scratch against the table as his palms hold your head firm and to the side, he pushes you downward and thrusts his cock in and out, each pump making you gradually lose eyesight until you do… fully. Your vision darkens completely and you blink rapidly as you let go screaming.

‘’C-choso aagh!’’ But he doesn’t listen, his head’s too clouded with the need to fill you up, the need to have his cum seep out your hole as he grabs Yuji’s shirt next to him, rolls it around and hangs it over your neck. You’re being lifted—your back is arched upward, the angle is excruciatingly painful; you’re too sensitive and his cock slides way too deep.

‘’Shit– don’t have much to say now, huh?’’ He asks but you’re choking and fighting for air, your ass bumps against his groin and he needs about three thrusts and a hard final slap on your flesh to finish. 

‘’Fuuuck–shit, r-right there, stay the fuck up!’’ He orders, but it’s not like you have many places to go as you feel a warmth filling you up; it’s funny, you’ve never had anyone come inside before. His load spurts and trickles out and he lets go of the scarf made on the spot, falling on top of you.

He slowly slides his softening cock out and doesn’t tell you another word while his chest rises and falls on your back. He can’t lie to himself, you were too nice. The softness in your shivering skin and sad eyes was too kind. Maybe he shouldn’t have been that hard on you, slapping you like some fly. He clears his throat as he climbs off you. You remain laid out, you seem passed out or freshly dead—you sport multiple marks and semen falls down his counter.

‘’We have to clean up before Yuji gets back.’’ You can barely register what he says but you make out the ‘we’ in the beginning. At least he acknowledges your existence, you think as you try to find your friend’s shirt. 

-

When Yuji returns Choso tells him you’re asleep. He can’t let him know he was cleaning bodily fluids off the kitchen counter. Yuji doesn’t ask more, he is excited to let Choso know about Megumi’s course and Choso listens, though he’s tired. By the time Yuji wakes up, you’re gone, having left a note behind that you ‘’didn’t feel well and changed the flight tickets.’’ When he tries calling you, you don’t pick up and he tells Choso.

‘’I’m sure she’s fine.’’ Choso made breakfast— it’s biking day, the sun shines and Yuji actually woke up earlier than expected (11 AM). His house feels silent, empty in a funny way, almost like you left and took its joy with you. Yuji is visibly upset but Choso reassures him everything’s fine.

‘’Yeah… I guess you’re right. You did say she felt sick yesterday..’’ He reminds him. Did he say that? Well, Choso thinks, it definitely sounds better than letting his little brother know of the sickening things he did— your punishment for daring to be his friend. Maybe he wasn’t lying to Yuji when he said that.

‘’I’ll try again later.’’ Yuji smiles. His voice doesn’t have its usual excitedness but Choso will work on it. He doesn’t have much time. 

‘’We’re still going, right?’’

‘’Sure.’’ Yuji smiles half-heartedly as he stands up.

He heads upstairs and Choso picks up the breakfast plates and puts them in the sink. He stands right at the spot he had you pinned twelve hours ago—defenseless and crying as he slapped you, facefucked you, fingered, choked and ultimately humiliated you. He knows the excuse that he made you cum and the way you looked at him barely holds up. Even if you liked him, it wasn’t right.

He is suddenly overcome by a wave of inexplicable emptiness. It’s a vicious cycle, he thinks. If it wasn’t you, it would’ve been someone else. He would have driven them away from Yuji in an effort to have him to himself. Then Yuji would be sad and he would feel responsible. It wasn’t ever really your fault. Yet, this wouldn’t have happened if you never showed up. It would have benefited all three. Maybe this was never a cycle; the loop would require equal components. You were a labyrinth, a complicated, long path and Yuji was the center. 

[russellsppttemplates]

Did you lose her? (Lando Norris)

Maybe it was never a change of heart

Note: english is not my first language. It's angsty with a happy ending, and it's also the first piece that's I've written that's based of a song, Stick Season by Noah Kahan. I hope I did it well enough! 🫶 also, it has smut, and if you have followed me for long enough, you know I don't usually do it, but I think it's these AUS pics 😮‍💨😌🥵

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: curse words, previous break-up and themes related to that, smut (mentions protected sex, hormonal contraception, praise kink if you squint at the whole thing)

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed

Doing the food shop was one one of the mundane adult life tasks you actually enjoyed doing. You had some music on your ears and walked along the supermarket, making sure you weren't buying too much outside of your list.

Tomato sauce and two packets of the instant noodles for when you didn't feel like cooking or were in a rush, you told yourself as you browsed through the aisle.

The scent should've been the first give away, but lots of people wore the same perfume. However, not all of them had the characteristic underlying scent that to this day meant comfort.

"Y/N! I wasn't expecting to see you", Cisca said as he placed the item she took from the shelf on her shopping cart, "goodness, how long has it been since we've seen you?", she smiled sadly.

Five months, you thought. One hundred and fifty two days since you and Lando parted ways and you shipped your belongings back to England. You told yourselves it was amicable and that you'd still be there for eachother, but you had published your first article and he had started his season without the other by your side.

"It's been some time, yes. How are you?", you wondered, "we've been good, you know how busy it gets around this time of year. But Savannah had their little girl, Athena - let me show you a picture!", she scrambled her phone out of her bag.

"Oh, how cute!", you cooed at the little baby bundled up in a pink blanket, "Mila is such a good big sister, too!", she showed you a picture with the two of them in Lando's lap, the baby tucked safely into his chest as Mila seemed to be showing him one of her toys.

Gulping and swallowing the tears that threatened to fall, you looked up at her and smiled, "I'm glad everyone is doing good - send Oliver and Sav my congratulations!", you nodded, hoping she would get the hint.

Storing her phone back in her bag, Cisca smiled, resembling the smile that you woke up many times to, "I will, darling. All the best for you, hopefully we'll see you around", she said before rubbing your back soothingly.

You found an aisle without people and allowed yourself to cry. Just for a little bit before you had to go back to pretend it didn't hurt still.

And I'll dream each night of some version of you

That I might not have, but I did not lose

"I'm on the podium, dad!", Lando yelled as he hugged Adam, cackling in excitement as he hugged the team who were there to celebrate and congratulate him.

"Congratulations, baby!", you yelled as Lando turned to hug you, arms going around your waist and pulling you as close as the safety barriers allowed, clicking open his visor so you could look at your favourite eyes in the world.

"I love you so much, Y/N!", he yelled back, winking before he went up to get weighed in.

On the podium, he looked at you like you two were the only people there, smiling up at him as he blew you a kiss.

"I knew you'd be on the podium, baby", you smiled once you were back in his driver's room, "How are you so sure?", he wondered, kissing your neck soflty.

"The development they're doing, your talent, Lando, I knew it was going to happen, and from now on, you better get used to being up there every single weekend", you smirked, kissing from his throat to his jaw and up to his lips, humming when his tongue poked at your lips begging for entrance.

It was hot and he was sweaty. His phone read 4:30am as he stood up against the headboard, finding the light switch so he wouldn't walk around the hotel room in complete darkness.

It was the third night in a row you showed up in his dreams. The first time, it was subtle as he dreamed about flying on plane and he was sure you were there. The past two, however, had you in there as a main character. He dreamed of walking in the paddock with you, of having you there to comfort him and knock some sense in his head when his P4 in qualifying didn't feel enough, and now you were celebrating his podium.

It's weird how his brain went there, how his arms and face felt like they had truly been holding you despite not having done it in months. Muscle memory betrayed, he thought as he poured himself some water and took little sips of it as he looked outside the window.

Fuck, he missed you. And not just for these big moments where he was on a high and wanted to share it with you or when he was do low you were the only person that could make him crawl out of the dark hole he snuck himself into. It's when he's making his bed back home and the other pillow remains fluffed because no one's using it, it's the mug you left behind and he doesn't have the courage to send back to you or give to someone else or when he sees something that reminds him of you and he gets it, hoping one day he can get them to you.

You once called me forever, now you still can't call me back

Lando sighed again as the call went to voicemail. It was the third time it happened in the last couple of hours. It was media day at Suzuka and they were having lunch.

"You know it's 3 am back in England, right?", Oscar asked bluntly, "when we were having breakfast, sure, you might have got hold of her if she was doing a late night, but I think you should wait", he reasoned.

Oscar was right. He didn't want to risk it waking you up even though he was sure your phone was on silent since you loved your sleep dearly.

"I hate this", Lando muttered, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. Oscar was aware of some of what had happened between Lando and you. The start of the season always came with new gossip and this one's was filled with rumours and conspiracy theories about the paddock's sweetheart and young couple.

Lando started driving in Formula One when he was nineteen, so they had seen his grow up through the years along with your relationship. At first, you were pinned down as his sister, then a best friend when they realised you didn't share genetics, and then you were his girlfriend. The lingering touches and big smiles they caught never rushed you to admit your feelings or put a label on your relationship, but everyone was there when you walked hand in hand on the paddock and confirmed the suspicions they had for months. Lando Norris and his best friend were in love and they all felt like proud parents as they watched you support him unconditionally every time you could.

"Did you lose her?", Oscar quesioned his team-mate as he picked on the food on his plate.

"I don't have her with me, have I?", Lando snapped and regretted it almost immediately.

Oscar put it down to tiredness, jet lag and the fact that he seemed a bit lost on how he was navigating the situation, "What I'm saying is, did you lose her? Did you do your absolute best to keep her with you?", he said sternly, "Used all of the options and possibilities and it still didn't work out? You don't lose someone because things fell apart in a stressful situation", he reasoned.

He was young but not dumb, truly.

"Feels like I have though", Lando added.

"What I'm saying is if you really want to know how she is and if you want to have an honest conversation with her, you have to make an effort. Not just calling and asking your mother to see if she's spotted her lately, or your sisters to check in your circle of friends whether or not she has moved on", Oscar lectured.

"Do you think I can do it? Do I have what it takes?", Lando confessed his doubts out loud. One of the reasons he had yet to act on it was because having a second chance wasn't for everyone and he needed to make sure it went perfect. You deserved that.

"You're a Formula One driver with deep pockets and a massive heart that still belongs to someone. What can't you do?", the young australian driver mused before he got up, taking his plate with him and leaving Lando pondering about what to do next.

I hope this pain's just passin' through

You sang loudly as you dusted the living room shelves, windows open to let the autumn air in. While cleaning wasn't your favourite thing to do, you had woken up with an urge to clean and given that it happened very rarely, you were taking it in stride.

So far, you found a receipt of a pair of jeans you were meant to return but gave your friends instead, a concert ticket and a bigger amount of dust than you'd like to admit. When you pulled the fabric strap, though, you knew that you wouldn't want to get rid of it. The lanyard belonged to one of the passes for one of the Grand Prix weekend you went to see Lando. Inspecting it closer, you realised it was his second home race, the Polaroid picture attached to it confirming the date.

It started with you joking about the fact that the pass was not the prettiest, so Lando hunted down the paddock to find a Polaroid camera, snapping a picture of you two and pinching a hole on it so you could carry it around and cover the supposed ugly pass. The photo was still intact, just a little dusty as you wiped it with your sleeve. Lando was kissing your cheek as you smiled impossibly big, eyes squinty and smile beaming because of the guy whose lips were on your cheek.

A single teardrop fell on the plastic covered paper before a few more followed as you sat down, looking at what you had once been and how things were right now. The missed calls on your phone led you to believe that maybe he still felt something too, but the potential heartache of trying again and it not working would hurt more than it already does.

The vibration from watch caught your attention as you read the two notifications. One from your e-mail with Qatar Airways written in bold and a text from Lando.

Qatar Airways

Thank you for choosing to fly with Qatar Airways!

Lando ✨️

I need you here with me, Y/N, please

I made the flight reservation for you, they will hold the ticket until two hours before the flight leaves, you just have to confirm with your passport ❤️

You promised me that I was more than all the miles combined

Heathrow Airport, 7th October 2023, 6:30 am.

You couldn't back out now, that would mean Lando would lose the money he spent to get you here in the first place. It wasn't by all means quiet, but your thoughts were loud enough.

You shouldn't be here. Why were you here? Why did you accept this, Y/N?

Because Lando needed you there.

Simple as that.

Boarding the flight, you smiled and thanked as the flight attendant pointed to the area where your seat was and where you would spend the next six hours and a half.

"I'm sorry, our seats are by the window", a woman in her thirties said as she bounced a little girl on her hip, making you get up so she could get to it, "thank you", she smiled, sitting down and buclking herself and her daughter to her body.

"Lyla, you can't go pulling on other people's clothes - I'm so sorry", she apoligised as the little girl pulled on your shirt's detailed button buckle.

"No worries, I know how restless they can get. You do the best for your baby. You're only responsible for yours and her emotions, no one else's on this plane", you offered her, remembering the times you would take flights and fully grown adults would go up to a stressed parent to let them know they could hear their crying child as if the parents themselves didn't know.

"My husband is somewhere in there, too", she chuckled, sometimes I feel I'm responsible for his too - accountantable in a way at least", she chuckled.

"You weren't able to sit together?", you wondered.

"My husband planned the weekend to go watch a race and come back, but we found some holiday days and we decided on a spontaneous trip. This was the only seat left they had", she explained.

"I can change seats if you want", you offered, "I'm flying on my own and I'll get to the destination all the same", you giggled.

"You wouldn't mind?", she asked, relief settling over her as she tried to see her husband, waving at him to come closer as you touched the button to call the flight attendant as the passengers were all sat down on your section.

"This lovely young woman says she doesn't mind switching seats with you", she said to her husband as you spoke to the flight attendant.

"No, there's no problem with that if you both agree", the flight attendant smiled as you got up, ignoring the frown on the man next to you who had to get up so you could swap, "bye bye, Lyla!", you waved at the little girl before her parents thanked you once again.

Finding your new seat, you put your bag under the seat in front and sat down, excusing yourself to the older couple next to you, "I just swapped seats with the gentleman that was here, I'm sorry", you smiled, hoping they wouldn't be too mad.

"Oh, he was able to sit with his family after all - I told you, Harold!", the lady winked at her husband, "I'm Francesca, you can call me Fran", she said sweetly.

Despite the early flight, they both seemed to be full of energy as they started telling you stories of their life and family, showing pictures of their kids and grandkids.

"One day you'll have all of that with the person you love, darling - if that's something you want, of course!", Harold peeped in, "our granddaughters are always telling me not everyone wants the same things!", he chuckled softly.

"It's okay - I would like that, actually", you smiled sadly as Francesca landed her hand on top of yours.

"Why does that sound like a confused heart, dear?", she commented, reading you like a book. The flight was closer to be three quarters of the way to the destination, so you still had some time to kill.

"A little bit; I'm actually flying over to see the person who still has this confused heart", you mumbled.

"Your eyes sparkle when you talk about him, dear - something tells me he's going to 'unconfuse' your heart", she smiled, "tell me about him".

"Godness", you chuckled, "He's kind, respectful, honest, goofy, cute, charming, loving, he's all that is good. We just lost our way, I think", you recalled, smiling at the thought of him.

"You'll find it back, dear. Life has mysterious ways but it has the right ways - I like to believe it does, anyway", the older lady assured, squeezing your hand in hers.

Waving goodbye to Harold and Francesca when you found the taxi bay, you requested to be taken to the paddock.

When you got there, you payed the kind driver before he helped you take your suitcase from the boot, "enjoy the race!", he smiled.

You were thankful all eyes were on the track already, making you cross the whole paddock and step into McLaren's hospitality quickly after collecting your pass.

"Y/N!", Zak said as he was the first person to spot you, "you're here, you came!", he smiled, hugging you tightly, "we're all very happy you're here", he said as he asked one of the team members to store your suitcases somewhere appropriate before leading you to the corridor to the drivers' rooms.

"Lando is inside, and the race starts in less than ninety minutes, so you won't talk all you need to, but it's a good start", he said, knocking on the door before he left.

When Lando heard the knock, he hoped it was you. Sophie and Oscar were great people, but in the last hour, everytime he opened the door, theirs were the faces he saw instead of yours.

"Y/N", he welcomed you into his room before closing the door, "I hope it's okay that I flew you here, thank you for coming", he said as he hesitated on giving you a hug.

Taking a step forward, you laced your arms around his waist as he did the same around your shoulders, inhaling eachother's scent and feeling like a weight was lifted off both of you, "I missed you so much, Y/N", he whispered before you pulled apart.

"It's not the first time you've done that for me", you fumbled with your hands, "although I was very surprised. We haven't spoken to eachother in some time, Lando", you sterned.

"Not because I didn't try", he bit bat with an ironic chuckle, "Why did you come here then?", he defended, taking your words as immediate offense and not taking a second to process them properly.

"Because even though we're not together anymore, you matter to me. I care about you! I'm not sure what monster you depict me as or that you imagine I've turned into, but I wouldn't dream of wishing you misery! If you call me and tell me you need me here, I'll be here because I care about you!", you snapped, "you have no idea how many times I wanted to give up and cancel this! Why am I here, Lando?", you asked.

You didn't expect him to react that way, not that you had a much better reaction anyway.

"Fuck, this is not how we do this", you took a deep breath as Lando held your hands in his, mimicking your movements as he did the same. Three long deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in and out.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that", Lando began, hands laced on yours still, "thank you for bring here, I needed you here because there's no one else in the world that can make me feel comfortable like you do, and I need that. I need to feel like myself - and I know it's a selfish ask to make you get up and drop your things to be here with me but-", you interrupted him.

"It's okay, Lando, you're okay", you cooed, searching for his eyes and hoping you'd get the message your mouth was failing to say through.

You pulled him to sit in front of you in the massage table, "I've been seeing all the podiums you've been getting - the team have done such a great job developing, and your talent and skills have brought it to the podium", you tried a lighter subject even though you were 99% sure of his worries.

"Oscar still qualified above me", he began, "He's a rookie and he's managed to do in months what I haven't done in five years", he allowed himself to express his feelings. After all, it was you.

"Oscar is not driving a tractor like you were", you shrugged your shoulders as Lando laughed.

"For someone who was invited last minute and got a pretty good pass, I'm not sure how the team would feel about you talking like that", he smirked, hand finding your own as he rubbed his thumb on your palm.

"I'm only telling the truth", you smiled, "and I mean it. I know how this sport works, but you shouldn't compare yourself to your teammate when the circumstances are so different", you mused.

"The team have been great and they still haven't said anything", he reasoned.

"Of course they haven't because it's something that happens, Lando. I was watching the highlights and so many drivers went over the limits because that's how this track goes", you stated, "there's only so much you can do and you shouldn't put all that pressure on yourself", you tsked, "I know you do, but you shouldn't", you smiled.

"You always know what to say, don't you?", he chuckled, "I have an inkling on how this here works", you winked and tapped his head with your free hand.

A knock on the door interrupted your moment as Jon opened it right after, "Lando, we need to start prepping for the sprint", he said before he turned to you, "Hi Y/N, good to have you back!", he smiled before he let you finish what you were doing.

"I should go, then", Lando trailed off, "are you going to browse around the paddock? I bet a lot of people miss you and your face here", he nudged.

"I came here for you, I don't care about anyone else", you smiled as you leaned over to press a kiss on his cheek for a few seconds, smiling against his warm skin before grabbing your bag and walking out.

Most of the team must've known you were coming since not many of them took a second look whenever you greeted them or entered a different area.

One of the media girls got you a set of headphones as she stood next to you, Oscar and Lando getting ready to go to the track.

His routine hadn't changed as your eyes followed him while he got dressed appropriately and safely for the race.

Before Lando put his helmet on he looked back at you, winking and smiling when you winked back.

When the gap wasn't closing in, you knew Lando would be disappointed with P3, not because of the place itself but because his team-mate had done better.

As you moved to a better spot to watch the interviews on the media pen, your heart felt like someone was using it like a trampoline, jumping and stomping on it as Lando spoke about himself with such a negative tone.

Surely, the interviewers were fishing for answers with biased questions and his mind took him there.

As you waited for him to be back to the hospitality, you got yourself something to eat, realising you hadn't done it since the plane.

Lando was beating himself up and he couldn't shake the bad mood he was in even when he thought you had travelled to see him and be there for him.

As Sophie gave him a quick debrief about his interviews, he stepped into his driver's room so he could have a quick shower and then head to the team debrief.

"It wouldn't hurt going up to her, you know?", Jon told him, ready to take any harsh words first if it meant you didn't hear them.

"I know it wouldn't, I'm just going to eat something and then I'll join the debrief with the rest of the team", Lando mumbled as he walked up to you.

"Hey", he said sitting down on the sofa next to you.

"Hey, Lando", you said, testing the waters and approaching his body until you rested your head on his shoulder.

"You are going to get your win, Lando. It's going to be an amazing weekend and it's going to be your first. Surely important, but you'll be a race winner and go on to the next race", you said as he seemed to be unsure of the tone you were going for, "as that will be a big moment in a long career - because it won't define it - this doesn't define you either, as a person and as a driver", you concluded, hoping to bring a little bit of his confidence and self-esteem back up a little.

"And you're going to be there?", he asked. He was feeling like shit and needed to know. It wasn't fair, but he needed to know.

"I can't make promises like that, not before we speak properly", you remarked, looking up at him from where you were, kissing his cheek and squeezing his hand in yours, "do you want me to stay here or should I go back to the hotel?", you asked. It wasn't the right time or the right place to talk about it.

"Could you stay here, please?", he said as you took your book out of your bag, knowing it would run long and you'd need some entertainment as there was only so much catching up you could do with the team when they're suppose to be working.

"I will, then", you said as Lando took the plunge and kissed the top of your head.

Ten chapters and a tea later, Lando tapped your shoulders, "I'm finished, are we ready to go?", he asked as you got up accepting his hand to hold as you walked out of the hospitality, grabbing your suitcase from the storage room and bidding goodbye to the team.

"I couldn't get a separate room for you, but the room I'm staying in has this living room area and the sofa opens into a bed, they said it's really comfy and they also left an extra mattress topper and some blankets", Lando said as he drove, "in case you didn't feel comfortable, I- I just want you to feel comfortable", he emphasised nervously.

"Lando, you don't need to walk on eggshells, okay? It's me", you smiled reassuringly as he stole a quick look at you before focusing back on the road, "sounds like a nice solution, fine by me", you reassured him.

Leaving the car to the valet and taking the lift up with you, you stayed silent until you were inside the hotel room, "That's the bedroom area, bathroom's here - and it has a double sink - and then the living room", Lando patted the extra linen folded on the sofa.

"Thank you", you assented, "would you like to talk now or is it bad timing? You must be tired f,-".

"Yes, please", he agreed immediately sitting on the sofa and making room for you to sit in front of him.

"I don't know where to begin", you observed after a while, "it's been tough being without you - I have been so used to having you there for me and to be there for you that nothing quite has the same meaning. I can live without you - barely, but I can -, that's not the question, but I don't want to", you manifested.

"We ended things because we had to, and it did us both well to see from another perspective - that's what it felt for me anyway -, but I want to be with you and to have you with me", he elaborated, "I don't care if you have to spend more time back home because of the distance, or come with me to the races because of the distance, too, I-".

"It was never about the distance, Lando", you interjected. You both used that excuse way too many times but deep down you knew it wasn't because of it.

"We'll work it out then", Lando suggested, "we'll work on us because knowing eachother doesn't mean we don't have to put ourselves first and keep investing on our relationship. I value you so much Y/N, I love you so much and I want to do this right", he whispered as if he spoke any louder would disturb the moment.

"I love you too", you smiled as you laced your hands together, "we'll work on it, together".

It was already late so Lando offered you the bathroom so you could shower and do your night routine first and then make the sofa bed to your liking while he did his night routine.

"Good night, angel", Lando said after you hugged him goodnight, kissing the top of your head before letting you lie down first since the light on his bedside table was the only one illuminating the room.

After you cocooned yourself in the sheets comfortably, you spoke up, "Lando, I'm sorry I didn't answer back sooner", you apoligised.

"It's okay, love, you don't have to worry about that", he cooed softly and you could hear the smile on his voice.

"I know it's not, but thank you for making me feel better about it, goodnight", you smiled, feeling hopeful about it.

The next morning, you were woken up by the noise coming from the bathroom, assuming Lando was showering inside as you stretched, surprised at how well you slept. Maybe the bedding was genuinely nice, the sofa bed wasn't bad to begin with, especially considering the hotel you were staying in, or maybe it was the fact that for the first time in months, you fell asleep knowing the person who your heart belonged to was more than happy to let you keep his, too, and he was in the same space as you.

"Good morning, beautiful", Lando smiled as he noticed you were awake already, "did you sleep well?".

"Good morning, Lan", you yawned, "I did, really well, actually. At what time do we have to be at the track?", you wondered. It was a night race, so the call up was later than usual.

"I'm leaving after breakfast, but you can stay and head there later if you want", Lando declared as you walked up to him, "I just need to freshen up and get ready", you smiled, kissing his cheek and heading for the bathroom with your clothes.

As soon as you arrived at the track, you took one of the back entrances as you knew Lando would spend some time with the fans and other drivers he bumped into, finding a nice spot on the lounge and going back to your book.

"I'm going to start race prep", Lando stopped by you in the lounge after a quick meeting, "I probably won't talk to you much until afterwards so I just came to check on you", he reasoned.

Getting up, you moved to one of the corridors, leaning up to kiss his forehead softly, "Good luck, my love, you're going to do so well, I know it", you smiled against his skin.

"I have my lucky charm with me", he smirked, kissing the top of your head before he got back to Jon.

From P10 to P3, Lando had an eventful race. Fortunately, and compared to the rest of the grid, he seemed to be doing fairly well as he stood in front of AC Units while replenishing the water he lost during the fifty-seven laps.

"I'm so proud of you!", you cooed as he got back to the garage, shaking hands with all the mechanics and engineers before he got to you. You hugged his sweaty body, not caring about it as long as you felt his close to you.

"They're postponing race debrief so I'm going to shower quickly and then we can get going, beautiful", he smiled, kissing a spot on your cheek very close to your lips.

Smiling giddily, you went to the bar area to get a bottle of water for yourself as Sophie walked last you, "seems like we will be seeing a lot more of you again soon - maybe Zak can also hire you as our lucky charm!", she winked as you shook your head, blood rushing to your cheeks at her words.

Back in the hotel room, it was your turn to freshen up and get ready to sleep. The spirits were high and you were feeling like the wait time was over. Your heart was healed enough as you sat on Lando's bed, "I'm so proud of you, you had an incredible drive tonight", you smiled as you moved closer to him as he sat on the edge, back against the headboard and one leg on the mattress while the other hung beside the mattress.

"It felt so good", he smiled, "thank you for supporting me", he cupped your cheek as he silently asked you for permission to kiss your lips. Lando couldn't waste anymore time as he pulled you to him so he could kiss you properly, your legs on either side of his as you straddled him, revelling in the feeling of being in eachother's hold as your hands played with his hair while his held your waist.

"As much as I'd love to continue this, I'm exhausted, baby", he rubbed your thighs, "it's okay, my love, I wasn't thinking of letting you do anything else anyway", you smiled, kissing his nose softly before you got on one knee so you could flop to the side and land on the mattress.

"Sleep here, yes?", he mused and you nodded, undoing the bed and getting under the sheets, his arm holding you to him and making sure he didn't let go.

As if you'd leave anyway.

4.30am and Lando woke up again. This time however, the sight he longed to see was right there. The you he had and had got back, cuddled up to his chest as your leg was hoisted up on top of his own and very close to his aching cock.

As he tried to change the angle so every time you moved, your smooth skin wouldn't pratically tease him, you stirred in your sleep, eyes opening as he tried to adjust your knee.

"Is everything alright, baby? Am I hurting you?", you said as you recoiled from his body.

"No, angel, no!", he quickly guaranteed, "I'm sorry I woke you up, it's just that your knee was very close to me and I was having a hard time dealing with it".

"A hard time indeed", you snickered as you felt his hard-on strained on his Calvin Kleins. Dating after being friends for so long brought an easy joking side to your relationship so much easier and funnier as you wouldn't get offended with most of what you said to eachother, "need help with that?", you smirked.

"But I wanted to treat you", Lando pouted, "Can I, gorgeous girl?", he whispered as he kissed up your neck once you whispered "yes", hands roaming on your body as he pulled up your nightshirt, finding your nipples and twisting them slightly to work your body up the way you did with his.

Your sighs and whimpers let him know he was doing a good job as undressed your torso, littering small kissed from your throat to your tummy, "you're so gorgeous, Y/N, I can't believe you're mine", he said as he blew a raspberry on your tummy, earning giggles from you before he licked up a stripe near your panties line.

"You know how much I like it when you wear your pink panties", he voiced as he touched you over the cotton fabric, feeling you pulsate already, "Do you like it when I tease you over your pink panties, baby?".

"Yes", you scrambled out betwen moans and deep breaths, "Oh my Goodness, princess", he cooed as you squirmed, "You want me to fill this pussy up?", he wondered as you let out a yes followed but a deep mewling sound.

"Let me take a little peek, then", as his fingers pushed the fabric down, a string of wetness caught in the material as he smiled, "Oh my Goodness, look at this pretty little pink pussy", he kisses your clit, "all of you, you're se beautiful, baby".

Rubbing the inside of your thighs with his thumbs, pressing the soft skin as he got rid of your underwear, "Are you going to let me fill you up?", he asked as he wouldn't do it without consent.

"Yes, please do it, Lan", you moaned, hand looking for his own to hold.

"You don't need to say please, my love - here", he whispered as he laced your hands together, "you'll always have me, you hear me? I'm yours, sweet girl", he smiled.

His hand that wasn't securely laced in yours helped you take his underwear off before he came back up to kiss your lips softly.

"Does it feel good when I tease your clit like that, gorgeous?", he smirked as he ran the tip of his cock in your sensitive bud, "Yes - uhg, baby", you gasped, looking into his eyes and swearing you could get lost in them had you not been in such a state of arousal as you were.

"You look so pretty like this, my beautiful, sweet girl", he praised as he saw your twitches and heard your moans at his words, "we need protection, though", he stated.

"I'm good, didn't see anyone else - you?", you wondered as he shook his head, "didn't see anyone else either - condom?", he asked, making you nod and separate so he could get it from his toiletries bag. Hormonal contraception left you feeling worse that it made your life easier, so you and Lando always used condoms.

Rolling it down his shaft, Lando climbed back in the bed and kissed your lips, adjusting himself before he entered you.

You whimpered as Lando slid inside you, a low groan escaping from his throat as he gently slid, taking your hand back in his and resting them next to your head on the pillow.

"You feel so good for me, sweet girl, so wet so warm, so good - aah", he breathed out, "so tight, my sweet sweet girl", he squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling of your walls squeezing him.

You stretched your arm out enough to pull his face closer to yours, kissing his jaw and then his lips before whispering "you can move, love".

Lando pulled back slowly, thrusting in gently to begin with and savouring how you felt around him.

"I love you", you muttered into his neck between moans as he picked up the pace, thrusting into you faster, harder and deeper.

"I'm close", Lando groaned as he felt your walls clench around him, his hand crawling between your bodies and drawing lazy circles on your clit to get you to your release.

"Me too, feels so good, I feel so good", you moaned out, a high pitch one particularly when you felt the band was about to snap.

“My sweet girl, my beautiful sweet girl, are you going to come for me?”, Lando worked you up as your body started to show signs of it, "let go, my love, I'm here, I've got you”, he soothed, still gently rubbing your clit with one hand and keeping hold of the other.

Your back arched, sensitive nipples rubbing against his skin, as you came with a high-pitched whine, nuzzling your face on his thick neck as you came undone around him. Lando came soon after, his hand that was not holding yours groping your waist as he groaned.

“Good, sweet girl, that was good, you did so well for me. I’ve got you, it's okay", he assured as he felt you flutter around him, probably from overstimulation considering neither of you had been with anyone else and you hadn't slept a full night yet, the tiredness he felt also a cause for how quickly he finished.

Lando kissed your forehead sweetly before he pulled out, getting up and throwing out the condom on the bathroom bin before he cane back to you on the bed.

"Let's put this on, yeah?", he whispered soflty as he helped you put on his linen shirt, buttoning it enough to let you breathe but still feel hugged by the fabric, and then a clean pair of underwear he got from your suitcase.

Before he laid in bed with you again, he put on his own underwear, pulling you to his arms and then pulling the crisp white covers over you.

"Do you feel good, baby?", he asked once you were cuddled up to him, "yes, I do", you smiled, a mixture of post sex glow and being back in his arms.

"Thank you for not giving up on us, I love you, sweet girl", Lando said as he played with your fingers, bringing them up to his mouth so he could kiss every single one of them, "you're the best thing in my life", he mumbled, letting you drift off to sleep.