#using his older camera

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

“Do you want to dance?”

Damian looked up from his perch on the the building’s ledge at the voice that startled him.

Lazarus eyes and white hair that flickered candle at the tips. He gently swayed in the air to the song the band on the stage set high above the park.

When the family had heard rumors early in October of a city wide haunted party that was to take place on Halloween night, they were all on high alert.

The thought of the dead being brought back and raising hell on the streets constantly on mind and in the possibility of rouges ruining the night close behind.

Until they met Phantom.

“It seems that the party is what one would call a success.”

Danny hummed as he joined the bird on the rooftop,

“Thank the ancients for that. Has there been anything suspicious?”

“Nothing abnormal,”

Damian glanced at his family participating in the crowds. Richard swung from Greyson to Greyson, with each twirl and flip through the air a smile graced his face. The three Greysons once again in the air together.

“though with how badly you intimidated the villains I can not particularly blame them for mostly hiding away.”

Danny snickered as Damian found Jason twirling around one who he could assume to be Catherine Todd looking like a fool.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? Being the King of all afterlife has some perks.”

The young king sighed as another song came to a close,

“But seriously, why aren’t you having fun? We worked out butts off to have tonight go down flawlessly yet you haven’t joined the rest.”

The Drakes were chatting to the side under an elm, the faint glow of the Specters bounced off the old camera around his neck.

Come morning the prints would most likely deteriorate into nothing but blurs but the sentiment was there.

“So,” Danny cocked his head to the side “penny for your thoughts?”

Bruce waltzed with Damian’s grandparents with this adoration in his eyes that made Damian look away, into the eyes of the silent monarch.

“It just felt.. crass for me to join the festivities. I was an assassin, a trained killer once. I have blood on my hands and I did not want to cause a stir.”

“You act as though you are the only person here tonight that has blood on your hands. In your family alone assassin trained in not an minority.”

“Even still, I am not clean, I have killed hundreds and still have troubles holding myself back at times, it could cause unnecessary stress on your subjects,”

Damian sighed,

“before my father’s absence the only death I had encountered were the targets and the people who ‘failed’ in the league for one reason or another. I never had to grieve, and those who I know that perished most likely would not have been allowed in this visit anyways.”

“Even still, there is no reason to mope. You can’t help who you come from little birdy. What matters is that you have came to terms with your past actions are are working hard to make up for them.”

Damian glanced back to the ghost as he felt a cold hand mesh with his.

Surprisingly, he did not seem to mind.

The two sat like that in silence as the gleeful participants continued on unaware.

“You know, for what it’s worth… I have had a blast in Gotham with you these last few weeks. If the high king of the infinite realm can look over your upbringing than I think you might be selling yourself short Robin.

“Damian,”

“Oh?”

“My- my name is Damian.”

The ghost let out in an unnecessary breath before a gentle smile graced his lips,

“Alright Damian, my name is Danny. Would you care for a dance?”

Put your head on my shoulder

[soft-serve-soymilk]

Imagine finally going on your laptop to work on your project that is rapidly becoming due because u beat the executive dysfunction and finding ALL your files deleted (art, apps, sentimental screenshots etc)

And then while you’re fixing your dad’s dumbass mistake file explorer itself corrupts 😞

[akkivee]

hyped up 02 came with two showtimes and i made my monster post to the first showtime and came out feeling like i needed a whole new one for the second show lmao 😭😭😭

the last third of show 2 had almost an entirely different set list which meant more animations and different dialogue and y’all haven’t seen cute until you’ve seen dh collapsing in a fit of laughter together or jakurai trying to copy hifumi’s dance moves 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[flutteringfable]

was gonna binge bijuu mike's yansim series again for old time's sake but the absolute shock of seeing him pre-ddlc era hit me like a train. it's always so wild to look back on big youtubers' old content because its always DRASTICALLY different than their modern content and its kinda cool to compare!

hearing bijuu talk abt having a crappy computer with his kinda crunchy headphones mic made me smile cuz like. he got popular enough to buy a good one a few years after that. i was like young bijuu!!! u now have the money to have a room full of figurines and posters and cool merch and a great pc and mic!!! how cool is that!!!!!!

i wonder if he ever anticipated the reach he'd get. most people don't i guess, but it's still fun to think about.

[endusviolence]

Rowling isn't denying holocaust. She just pointed out that burning of transgender health books is a lie as that form of cosmetic surgery didn't exist. But of course you knew that already, didn't you?

I was thinking I'd probably see one of you! You're wrong :) Let's review the history a bit, shall we?

In this case, what we're talking about is the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or in English, The Institute of Sexology. This Institute was founded and headed by a gay Jewish sexologist named Magnus Hirschfeld. It was founded in July of 1919 as the first sexology research clinic in the world, and was run as a private, non-profit clinic. Hirschfeld and the researchers who worked there would give out consultations, medical advice, and even treatments for free to their poorer clientele, as well as give thousands of lectures and build a unique library full of books on gender, sexuality, and eroticism. Of course, being a gay man, Hirschfeld focused a lot on the gay community and proving that homosexuality was natural and could not be "cured".

Hirschfeld was unique in his time because he believed that nobody's gender was either one or the other. Rather, he contended that everyone is a mixture of both male and female, with every individual having their own unique mix of traits.

This leads into the Institute's work with transgender patients. Hirschfeld was actually the one to coin the term "transsexual" in 1923, though this word didn't become popular phrasing until 30 years later when Harry Benjamin began expanding his research (I'll just be shortening it to trans for this brief overview.) For the Institute, their revolutionary work with gay men eventually began to attract other members of the LGBTA+, including of course trans people.

Contrary to what Anon says, sex reassignment surgery was first tested in 1912. It'd already being used on humans throughout Europe during the 1920's by the time a doctor at the Institute named Ludwig Levy-Lenz began performing it on patients in 1931. Hirschfeld was at first opposed, but he came around quickly because it lowered the rate of suicide among their trans patients. Not only was reassignment performed at the Institute, but both facial feminization and facial masculization surgery were also done.

The Institute employed some of these patients, gave them therapy to help with other issues, even gave some of the mentioned surgeries for free to this who could not afford it! They spoke out on their behalf to the public, even getting Berlin police to help them create "transvestite passes" to allow people to dress however they wanted without the threat of being arrested. They worked together to fight the law, including trying to strike down Paragraph 175, which made it illegal to be homosexual. The picture below is from their holiday party, Magnus Hirschfeld being the gentleman on the right with the fabulous mustache. Many of the other people in this photo are transgender.

[Image ID: A black and white photo of a group of people. Some are smiling at the camera, others have serious expressions. Either way, they all seem to be happy. On the right side, an older gentleman in glasses- Magnus Hirschfeld- is sitting. He has short hair and a bushy mustache. He is resting one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him. His other hand is being held by a person to his left. Another person to his right is holding his shoulder.]

There was always push back against the Institute, especially from conservatives who saw all of this as a bad thing. But conservatism can't stop progress without destroying it. They weren't willing to go that far for a good while. It all ended in March of 1933, when a new Chancellor was elected. The Nazis did not like homosexuals for several reasons. Chief among them, we break the boundaries of "normal" society. Shortly after the election, on May 6th, the book burnings began. The Jewish, gay, and obviously liberal Magnus Hirschfeld and his library of boundary-breaking literature was one of the very first targets. Thankfully, Hirschfeld was spared by virtue of being in Paris at the time (he would die in 1935, before the Nazis were able to invade France). His library wasn't so lucky.

This famous picture of the book burnings was taken after the Institute of Sexology had been raided. That's their books. Literature on so much about sexuality, eroticism, and gender, yes including their new work on trans people. This is the trans community's Alexandria. We're incredibly lucky that enough of it survived for Harry Benjamin and everyone who came after him was able to build on the Institute's work.

[Image ID: A black and white photo of the May Nazi book burning of the Institute of Sexology's library. A soldier, back facing the camera, is throwing a stack of books into the fire. In the background of the right side, a crowd is watching.]

As the Holocaust went on, the homosexuals of Germany became a targeted group. This did include transgender people, no matter what you say. To deny this reality is Holocaust denial. JK Rowling and everyone else who tries to pretend like this isn't reality is participating in that evil. You're agreeing with the Nazis.

But of course, you knew that already, didn't you?

Edit: Added image IDs. I apologize to those using screen readers for forgetting them. Please reblog this version instead.

[fozmeadows]

the older I get, the more the technological changes I've lived through as a millennial feel bizarre to me. we had computers in my primary school classroom; I first learned to type on a typewriter. I had a cellphone as a teenager, but still needed a physical train timetable. my parents listened to LP records when I was growing up; meanwhile, my childhood cassette tape collection became a CD collection, until I started downloading mp3s on kazaa over our 56k modem internet connection to play in winamp on my desktop computer, and now my laptop doesn't even have a disc tray. I used to save my word documents on floppy discs. I grew up using the rotary phone at my grandparents' house and our wall-connected landline; my mother's first cellphone was so big, we called it The Brick. I once took my desktop computer - monitor, tower and all - on the train to attend a LAN party at a friend's house where we had to connect to the internet with physical cables to play together, and where one friend's massive CRT monitor wouldn't fit on any available table. as kids, we used to make concertina caterpillars in class with the punctured and perforated paper strips that were left over whenever anything was printed on the room's dot matrix printer, which was outdated by the time I was in high school. VHS tapes became DVDs, and you could still rent both at the local video store when I was first married, but those shops all died out within the next six years. my facebook account predates the iphone camera - I used to carry around a separate digital camera and manually upload photos to the computer in order to post them; there are rolls of undeveloped film from my childhood still in envelopes from the chemist's in my childhood photo albums. I have a photo album from my wedding, but no physical albums of my child; by then, we were all posting online, and now that's a decade's worth of pictures I'd have to sort through manually in order to create one. there are video games I tell my son about but can't ever show him because the consoles they used to run on are all obsolete and the games were never remastered for the new ones that don't have the requisite backwards compatibility. I used to have a walkman for car trips as a kid; then I had a discman and a plastic hardshell case of CDs to carry around as a teenager; later, a friend gave my husband and I engraved matching ipods as a wedding present, and we used them both until they stopped working; now they're obsolete. today I texted my mother, who was born in 1950, a tiktok upload of an instructional video for girls from 1956 on how to look after their hair and nails and fold their clothes. my father was born four years after the invention of colour televison; he worked in radio and print journalism, and in the years before his health declined, even though he logically understood that newspapers existed online, he would clip out articles from the physical paper, put them in an envelope and mail them to me overseas if he wanted me to read them. and now I hold the world in a glass-faced rectangle, and I have access to everything and ownership of nothing, and everything I write online can potentially be wiped out at the drop of a hat by the ego of an idiot manchild billionaire. as a child, I wore a watch, but like most of my generation, I stopped when cellphones started telling us the time and they became redundant. now, my son wears a smartwatch so we can call him home from playing in the neighbourhood park, and there's a tanline on his wrist ike the one I haven't had since the age of fifteen. and I wonder: what will 2030 look like?

[sayruq]

In the early afternoon of 29 November last year, several Palestinian boys descended on to their street in the occupied West Bank, where they often played together.Minutes later, two of them lay dead from gunshots fired by Israeli soldiers - Basil, 15, and eight-year-old Adam. As part of an investigation into the conduct of Israel's security forces in the West Bank, which has been under military occupation for more than half a century, the BBC has pieced together what happened on the day the two boys were killed. Mobile phone and CCTV footage, information about the movements of Israel's military, witness testimony and detailed investigation of the scene, including taking measurements, combine to reveal evidence suggesting serious human rights violations. The evidence we found has prompted Ben Saul, UN special rapporteur on human rights and counter-terrorism, to say the death of Adam appears to be a "war crime".Another legal expert, Dr Lawrence Hill-Cawthorne, described the use of lethal force as “indiscriminate”. The Israel Defense Forces (IDF) said the circumstances of the deaths were “under review” but said “live fire is used only in order to remove immediate threats or for arrest purposes, following arrest protocols after exhausting other options”.

Video footage from 29 November shows Basil standing next to a hardware store, its shutters firmly locked down. When Israel's military arrives, shops close quickly in Jenin, a city in the West Bank - Palestinian territory which, unlike Gaza, is not run by Hamas. Witnesses said gunfire had been ringing out from a nearby operation by Israel's army in the Jenin refugee camp. Adam, a football fanatic and massive Lionel Messi fan, stood with his older brother Baha, 14. There were about nine boys on the street in total, all captured on CCTV cameras that provided a nearly 360-degree view of what happened next.

A few hundred metres away, a convoy of at least six armoured Israeli military vehicles turned a corner and began heading towards the boys, who clearly became uneasy. Several of the boys started to move away. At this precise moment, mobile phone footage shows the front door of an armoured vehicle opened. The soldier inside had a direct view of the boys. Basil had darted into the middle of the road, while Adam was 12m further from the soldiers, running away. Then at least 11 gunshots rang out.

Medical reports obtained by the BBC show that two shots hit Basil in the chest. Another bullet struck eight-year-old Adam in the back of the head as he ran away; his older brother Baha desperately tried to drag him to cover, leaving a trail of blood as he screamed for an ambulance.

[heavenbarnes]

anyways, as i was saying about older bf!simon and his willingness to please learn

pt 2 to this

“you ever heard of a nut video with sound on?”

obviously, he hasn’t- far as he’s concerned, if you haven’t told him about it then it doesn’t exist to him.

no skin off your nose, you’d spend the rest of your life teaching him about the ‘latest trends’ if it meant he kept sending those filthy fucking videos to your phone.

(your favourites on tiktok were purely filled with ideas)

he’s holed up in a remote location, killing time till he can be home and actually do something to you rather than send you a bloody video about it.

your instructions come through clear and concise, just how he likes:

“it’s what’s written on the can, si- you can pick the setup but i just want to see you cum and, most importantly, i want to hear it”

you’re lucky simon is such a practical guy and maybe you could thank price one day for making him so good at following orders.

when he’s got his alone time he’s setting his phone up to record on the edge of the window sill, moonlight fighting through the curtain to illuminate him.

he’s lost the bulkiest of his gear, down to his tactical trousers and a compression t-shirt. the images in his tattoo sleeve almost move when the light catches them right.

balaclava on (the one that just shows his eyes above the painted image of a skull) and he’s standing up to undo his belt (that you think looks like an airplane seatbelt).

you can hear his boots against the floorboard as he steps back to give you the full view of him undoing his trousers, taking his sweet time because he knows it drives you fucking batty.

he’s so big that the phone is working overtime to get all of him in the frame but you see exactly what you need to- thick thighs at your eye line and massive hands drawing down his fly.

on (you assume) the other side of the globe, you’re at home in your shared bed and you’re propped up right in the middle with the smell of simon engulfing you as you watch the video play out before you.

(if you’d thought about it you should’ve cast it to the bedroom tv, hoping the neighbours didn’t mind)

simon sits back down with his legs spread wide, one hand gripping his thigh as the other rubs himself over his boxers. his eye contact with the camera was fucking intense, like you’d hoped, just like when he’s on top of you.

he’s dressed in all black and the moonlight is obscured but you can still see him firming up in his pants. his eyes flutter, an infinitesimal amount but you’ve been tuned into his every move since you met him.

your thumb leans hard on the volume up button and you can hear the diegetic sound of the building expanding and that usual technical hum that comes with a video. but at this pitch, you could hear him.

his breathing was chopped, chest expanding visibly as he pulled his cock out into clear view. jeeeeesus christ, it was never something you just got used to.

long, reasonably straight, fucking thick. even his hand struggled to make it look smaller as he wrapped around it, giving one dry tug.

as he closed his palm over the tip, you saw him make a swipe before he brought his hand back down considerably smoother than before. you’d had your hands down his pants enough times, man leaked like a fucking faucet.

simon’s head tipped back as he started to pull himself off, balaclava raising just enough to expose some of his throat. if you were there you would be perched in his lap, letting him do the work but running your tongue under the lip of the fabric.

one of the best things about the videos simon sent was, he didn’t really understand how sexy he was. he didn’t think any of the videos particularly watchable so he’d just send them on first take. if you liked them, you liked them- yours was the only opinion that mattered.

what that meant was, you never got b-roll. everything he sent you was unbridled perfection. captured exactly as it happens with no faffing about.

always whatever you’ve asked for, whenever you ask.

(simon’s nothing if not inexplicably obedient)

he brings his hand under his chin to spit into the wide span of his palm, wrapping back around his cock and tugging. his foreskin moved over the head, rolling back down and thick veins bulging under his grasp.

you’d almost forgotten the conditions of your request, totally fucking enamoured by the sight in front of you when it caught you off guard.

a guttural moan ripped out of simon’s chest as he twisted his wrist.

his free hand moved to cup his balls, big and heavy, he rolled them in his palm as another groan sounded out of him. what you wouldn’t give to be knelt between his thighs with the whole lot in your mouth.

you knew how much of an ask this was, you really had to work him up to making noise when it was just you two in bed. these days? you couldn’t shut the man up when he was balls deep and his face was buried in the crook of your neck.

but this was another step, this was him on his own with his crew just through the walls. he’d be a plain liar if he said there wasn’t that rumbling trepidation in his chest. he’d put it to bed though.

all he had to think of was you, one hand gripping your phone and the other between your thighs as you watched him through with a hazy smile- that kept him going.

with the thought still heavy on his mind, you didn’t have to strain to hear your name drift off his lips. his hips bucked into his hand as he did, speeding up the motion of his strokes.

you were going to black out, his tattoos flexing and his chest expanding with every stuttered breath. simon looked like a god among men and he fucking sounded like one too.

“fuck, sweetheart- you’re so fucking filthy giving me orders like this”

your cheeks were burning, he wasn’t wrong but you weren’t expecting him to call you out quite like this.

“what does that make me? always so fucking eager to do what you say? make a dirty old man, yeah?”

wheeeeeew that’ll do it, your thighs snapped together around your hand as your eyes nearly rolled back in your head. whenever you thought you couldn’t take any more, he was always there to do you one better.

“only for you, pet- you can always get whatever you fucking want from me”

and you knew he was serious, that’s what made it all the more debilitating. simon was unshakeable, you’d seen him go out of his way to defy orders if he didn’t think the person worth his time.

when it came to you? you could tell him to kill and he would.

(he probably had)

simon’s hips were twitching, back arching in a way he’d rather die than have anyone else know about. his mouth was hanging open beneath the balaclava, your name and a string of expletives falling off his tongue.

so quick you nearly missed it, the hand that was cradling his balls moved to grip the fabric of his shirt and push it up his toned front. you couldn’t call his abs cut and defined, there was aged layer to them, but they were undeniably there.

you’d rested your head on them, pressed your palms against them, even ridden them enough times to know they were there. regardless, he looked fucking perfect under the moon glow as he stroked himself hard and long.

eyes locked onto the camera, broken moans on his lips, you saw his hips lift one last time as thick spurts of cum began to paint his stomach and chest.

scars illuminated under the night sky, mirrored by shiny patches of hot cum splattered across the same stretch of skin. the hairs on his chest were matted with sweat and were now being splashed with how far he was shooting.

you could only watch with your mouth hung open as he tugged himself through his orgasm. soon it was only the sound of his laboured breathing, chest rising and falling as he tucked his soft cock back into his pants.

just when you thought that was it, you found one of his hands lifting up the edge of his balaclava till his lips were exposed. two fingers of his other hand swiped up some of his spend before he lay them on his tongue.

knuckles in your mouth, biting down to suppress a scream, simon readjusted his clothes as he stood and took a heavy step towards the camera.

one hand braced on the window sill, the other gently gripping himself through his trousers- his voice was so fucking gravely it could’ve reverberated round your room.

“what’s next sweet’art? you name it, it’s yours”

[snoopyracing]

wanna be yours // ln4

pairing: lando norris X american!reader / mclaren photographer!reader

word count: 18k (listen.... i couldn't stop so get a snack bc it's a long one)

warnings: cursing, alcohol use, smut (18+) (oral, p in v, no protection, praise kink, edging, and choking)

includes: heavy mutual pining and jealousy, asshole!lando, clueless lando and reader, a little lando X oscar X reader bff trio, friends to enemies to ???, and time manipulation ( idk wtf to call it i just changed the creation date of lando.jpg lmao)

summary: you're the mclaren f1 team photographer and lando can't help but get jealous at your friendship with logan sargeant.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Not many people in the world get to do what they love as a career. It was something you were grateful for everyday. If you were being honest, you never saw yourself being a sports photographer. After graduating high school you had your eyes set on more editorial work, but it didn't take long for you to figure out that it wasn't for you. Years had passed and then an opportunity arose for a job working with IndyCar. You sent in your portfolio and somehow you got the job. That one on a whim decision changed your life forever.

People were insanely impressed with your skills, considering you had never done sports photography before, let alone motorsports. You had made some connections with people while working the job and somehow got connected with someone on the McLaren Formula One team. McLaren liked what they saw, and after a handful of emails, some serious debating, and support from your family; you had made the leap. Now here you are in your second year as McLaren's F1 team photographer.

Oscar and you joined McLaren the same year and the two of you clicked instantly, bonding over being newcomers to the team. It took about a three months for Lando to warm up to you, but once he did, look out. The three of you were never far from each other during race week. Some of the older drivers liked to call you three 'the triplets' because you were always in tow of one another.

You had made another new friend recently, Logan Sargeant. He joined F1 the same year started with McLaren, but you hadn't really made that many friends outside Oscar and Lando besides a couple other drivers. That changed at the beginning of this season. The two of you had started to be more friendly, and it didn't take long for a connection to form. It was nice to have someone that reminded you of home around, even if you guys were from two completely different states.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Monza

The Italian Grand Prix had just ended and Lando had made podium, placing P2 to be exact. As you stood there waiting for him to get out of the car you snapped a couple pictures making sure your settings were correct. The buzz in the air after Lando or Oscar made podium was something you still hadn't gotten used to. It was electric; from the cheers and chants from the fans, to hollering from the team as he exited the vehicle. You snapped a few photos as he greeted the team, a small bounce in his step proved he was more than ecstatic about his placement. It was a tough race, everyone had brought their A game today, drivers and cars included. So it was fair to say P2 was an excellent spot to be in, even if you would have loved to see him on that top spot.

His helmet and balaclava were off and you knew he was coming your way, so you readied your camera in his direction. Looking through the viewfinder you saw the giant smile that erupted on his face when he saw you and you couldn't help but to reciprocate one as equally as big back to him as you snapped away. One last one was taken of him with two fingers up indicating the second place he had just achieved. As you lowered your camera his arms were already indicating your invitation into them. Your arms wrapped around his torso, something that was just muscle memory to you at this point.

"That was one hell of a race. Congrats Lan." He had you wrapped so tight in his embrace that your words were mumbled against his shoulder, but he understood you just fine.

"Hmm. Thank you love." The term of endearment raised goosebumps on your arms. And as you pulled away from the hug his touch lingered for longer than it should have, something you clocked immediately.

To say you and Lando had a different friendship was an understatement. In fact, you didn't know of any other driver and their team photographer to have a relationship like Lando and you. About six months into your first year with McLaren you had developed a tiny crush on Lando and for the longest time you thought he possibly may have liked you back.

The fact that he was always touching you was one of your first inklings. If it was possible, the Brit was always in close proximity to you. If you were sitting next to each other, your knees were touching or his arm was behind you. Not to mention his lingering touches, hugs lasting longer than they should, his hands lingering on your waist, his fingers grazing you as he passed by. The way he acted with you was far from professional, but you weren't complaining.

Your second inkling was the gift giving. How many people can say their co-worker got them a Cartier bracelet for Christmas? None that you could think of. It wasn't even just expensive things that he would get you. If you guys were at headquarters he would always bring you an iced coffee from the place down the road. You had mentioned once that you preferred their coffee to other places and to your surprise Lando showed up the next day with one in hand for you. Or just even the fact that when you're with Lando, doing anything, he pays. Doesn't matter what it is, he's there with his card in hand, ignoring your pleas to let you pay for once.

The terms of endearment Lando used towards you had also made you wonder if he felt more than friendly feelings. The term 'love' was used quite often, along with 'beautiful'. Both terms surely in violation of HR, but Lando didn't seem to care as he said both freely with no concern of who heard him. And each time he did you tried to hide the blush that would creep onto your cheeks or try not to let him detect how fast your heart was beating when he had you in his arms.

So, to say Lando Norris had you smitten over him was an understatement, but you never acted on that crush for two reasons. One; you didn't want to risk your job, you were sure HR would have a conniption fit if a relationship ever developed between the two of you. You were surprised you hadn't gotten a talking to by PR at least for how you guys acted sometimes during race weeks.

Second; you never truly knew how he felt. Lando Norris liked to mess with your head. In all honesty he probably didn't know that he was, you had never expressed how you felt about him, he had no obligations towards you. But to have him act like he does with you and then that same day see him on Twitter leaving a club with some girl was undoubtedly going to fuck with your head..

After the third or fourth time of waking up to news about who Lando was hooking up with, you knew it was time for your crush to go away. He clearly wasn't interested in you and you were never one to admit your feelings first. So, those feelings got tucked away into a little corner in your brain, locked away, to hopefully never be opened again. Not wanting to lose Lando entirely (and your job), you accepted that you guys were just friends. That he was just one of those people who were naturally flirty, and that maybe you shouldn't take his words and actions to heart. Telling yourself that he wouldn't even be interested in someone like you when he had so many ethereal breathtaking women at his fingertips. And it worked, until he would let his hands lingered after a hug or a term of endearment slipped past his lips. His mindless actions jiggling the door knob to those locked away feelings in your brain.

As he took the podium your cheesy grin had returned as you snapped some more pictures. He really did look amazing up there and no matter what you felt or still feel about him you were always going to be proud of him. He was one of your best friends and as long as you were concerned, nothing was going to change that. The champagne went flying minutes later and more pictures were taken. The celebration continued for a while and as the drivers did their press interviews you made your way back to the hotel to start editing and picking the final pictures to be used on social media.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Lando had made it back to the hotel after finally finishing all his post race duties. He was satisfied with his placing today, sure he would have loved to have won, but everyone was cutthroat today, he just felt lucky enough to have made podium at all. Of course his night was far from over though, the celebrations had just only begun when the champagne was popped at the podium. He planned on having one hell of a night, he deserved it. And it was a no brainer to him that you would be there with him, any chance he got to spend with you, he took. After taking a shower he grabbed his phone to call you, and to no surprise you answered on the second ring.

Your melodic voice filled his ears, a smile tugging at his lips as he heard you speak. "Hello?"

The phone was on speaker as he dug through his suitcase, trying to find a shirt to wear. "We are going out in about an hour. You coming?"

A sigh echoed through the speaker. "I've got a lot of work to still do. You know I don't just take all these pictures for my own person pleasure."

He finally found a shirt and as he buttoned it he couldn't help but laugh at your words. "Oh really? I thought you just took all those pictures because you were obsessed with me.

You scoffed at his cockiness. "You wish Norris. Someone has to fix that face."

"Ouch. Don't talk about Oscar like that." He joked.

He wasn't there but he was sure that you had rolled your eyes at him. "Whatever. I have work to do." You stated. But Lando knew that wasn't true and that you were coming out tonight, you could never tell him no. If Lando was being honest with himself, he couldn't really tell you no either. If anything the two of you just liked to play cat and mouse.

Cologne wafted through his room as the conversation continued. "You're telling me, you would rather sit in your room all night editing pictures than going out with your favorite person and some of your other friends?"

You laughed at his choice of words. "My favorite person? I didn't know Logan was going?"

Logan.

Just hearing his name roll off your tongue put a sour taste in Lando's mouth. The two American's friendship being a sore subject to Lando as of recently.

He ignored you comment, the lightheartedness of the conversation had dissipated at the mention of the other male driver. "Be ready in thirty minutes. I'll come get you." He left no time for you to respond, already hanging up and tossing his phone on the bed.

Thirty minutes later he closed his door behind him and walked down the hall to your room. The both of you were on the same floor, but about ten rooms apart. A gentle knock was placed on the door and seconds later it opened. Lando felt his heartbeat quicken at the sight of you standing in the doorway. The skirt you were wearing was very short and as you turned around to grab your phone, he saw that your top that already had him staring from the front, was completely open in the back. This was not an outfit that he was used to seeing you in. Outside the usual McLaren gear you donned, you had a casual style, and when you had went clubbing or out before you had never worn anything this scandalous. He wasn't hating it though, in fact he was far from hating it.

"Eyes up here Norris." You stated as you joined him in the hallway.

He hadn't even realized he was staring, but when your words broke him out of his trance a blush crept onto his cheeks. Lando linked his arm with yours, leading you both towards the elevator. "Sorry for staring. You look beautiful tonight." Lando stated as he pressed the lobby button on the elevator. As the doors closed the smell of your perfume swarmed around him, it was almost intoxicating, combine that with how you looked tonight and his head was spinning.

You replied with a simple 'thanks' as you leaned against the elevator wall. He realized he may have made things awkward with his ogling, but god he couldn't help himself. The ding indicated their ride was over and as the two of them entered the lobby they were met with some of the other drivers standing in a group, undoubtedly waiting for them.

"Finally!" The Monegasque driver hollered.

You approached the group, a smile tugging at your lips. "Sorry boys. You know how Lando has to make sure he looks perfect."

The laughs that came from the guys was the last thing on Lando's mind, he was more concerned over how some of his competitors were looking at you. It was the same way he was looking at you merely minutes ago. His jaw clenched as he watched Charles hand get dangerously close to your back as he walked beside you. And as you got into one of the taxis with Charles and Carlos, he thought he might break a tooth from how hard he was biting down. As the taxi that was occupied with you and the two Ferrari drivers pulled away, Lando begrudgingly got into the next one with Oscar and George, already feeling like tonight wasn't going to plan out like he had hoped.

The music was deafening as Lando entered the club. You were nowhere in sight when he had arrived, so here he was on the hunt. He stopped by the bar, grabbing a shot of tequila for him and your favorite drink to give you when he found you. When he saw Charles off to the side of the room he figured he'd find you with him, but to his surprise Charles was stood there talking to some random guy, with no you in sight.

"Have you seen Y/N?" Lando felt like he was screaming, clubs were loud, he knew that, but this one just felt like it was on another level.

Charles shook his head. "The American stole her away from me! It was a shame, we were having a good time!"

The American. No guessing as to who that was. He stopped by the bar again, this time it was two tequila shots, the burn felt good as it slid down his throat. His eyes scanned the room, it was hard to see. Between the flashing lights, loud music, and bodies in every direction, he figured he'd never find you. Then just when he was about to give up he spotted you. Your back was to him, but he could see the tall blonde driver that was with you, his hands roaming your body as the two of them danced.

Lando tightened his grip on the glass as he watched the two of them and he couldn't help but think 'who the hell invited Logan?' The same hands that were on your body seconds ago now pointed at him, motioning for you to look back at Lando. A smile spread across your face as you realized who was standing there and as you walked over he felt his demeanor soften.

"I've been looking for-" Logan had now come up behind you, his hand resting on you shoulder, causing you to pause for a moment.

Lando's eyes flickered to Logan's hand on your shoulder, then back to you. Fucking ridiculous. He wanted to take Logan's hand and break it, make him not be able to race ever again and then he wouldn't be an issue again. His softened demeanor now long gone. "Here. Your favorite." He stated as he shoved the now watered down drink toward you.

You accepted the drink, but your smile was now gone as Lando turned on his heel to leave. You weren't sure what his deal was, but he on the other hand knew exactly what he was about ready to do.

He wasn't sure how many shots he had consumed by now, but god dammit he was a multi-million dollar F1 driver, who just got podium at the hardest race of the season so far. He was going to drink however much he wanted and no one, not even you were going to ruin his fun.

Lando made his way out to the dance floor and his eye caught the attention of some random girl. Perfect. The music pounded in his chest as the mystery girl and him were less than cordial in the middle of the swarm of bodies. The alcohol coursing through his veins only added to how he was feeling right now. It didn't take long for the random girl to be in tow behind him as they leave the club, for their lips to be on one anothers in the backseat of the taxi, and for his wandering hands to explore her body in the elevator. But what does take long is for him to get into his damn hotel room. He keeps trying and trying and the keycard will not work. He was getting impatient, the last thing he wanted to do was go back down to the lobby, he wanted to get into his room. Then he heard you voice.

"Lando?"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

There was a cool breeze that whipped through the night air as you walked the streets of Monza. The liquor in your veins was the only thing keeping you warm, considering your less than modest outfit choice for the night.

"I'd give you my jacket if I had one." Logan stated as he walked next to you.

You flashed him a smile. "I'm fine really. It's not that bad out."

The two of you had decided to walk back to the hotel, it really wasn't that far of a walk from the club. Plus, you had wanted to soak up as much time in Italy as you could. As you walked you were thankful you didn't go crazy with the drinking tonight, the idea of walking in heels on these streets while plastered sounded horrible. If anything at this point you only had a slight buzz. You couldn't say the same for some of the other drivers who were undoubtedly still living it up at the club.

Light conversation was made between the two of you as you walked.

"Did you have a good time tonight?" You asked.

"I did. I'm glad you decided to come out too." Silence filled the space between the two of you for a moment before the driver spoke again. "Can I ask a question?"

Your heart skipped a beat. You hated when people asked that, just ask the damn question instead of making your mind run worst case scenario, but you simply replied. "Sure."

Logan scratched the back of his neck, like he was unsure if he should even ask the question. But just before you were about the tell him to spit it out, he spoke. "What's up with you and Lando?"

Glancing over at Logan you gave him a confused look. "What do you mean what's up with me and Lando?"

Your question made Logan stop walking. "Oh come on you know what I mean. Are you guys a thing?"

A genuine laugh came barreling out of you. "Me and Lando? Oh yeah and I'm a F1 driver." You had continued to walk, but Logan grabbed your hand pulling you back towards him.

"I'm serious Y/N."

The joking manner of the conversation was now suddenly gone. "Nothing is going on between me and Lando. Believe me." You groaned, Lando was the last thing you wanted to talk about right now, especially after his weird behavior in the club.

Logan's grip on your hand still lingered. "Doesn't seem like it."

You rolled your eyes at him, why did he have a sudden interest in Lando and you? "Logan. There is nothing going on between us. I really like my job and would like to not be fired. You don't think HR has some rules set in place or something? Plus I'm not even his type. I'm not a model or some ethereal woman from some foreign country." His grip on your hand had loosened enough for you to turn and continue walking. He still stood frozen for a moment, processing your words and when he realized how far you had gotten ahead of him he had to jog to catch up to you.

"You like him don't you?" He asked as he finally caught up with you. The little locked door in the back of your brain labeled Lando was bursting at the seams, but you did not want to unlock it tonight, especially to Logan. Thankfully you could see the hotel in the distance and you felt no need to answer Logan's prying question. "I'll get it out of you eventually." Logan stated as the two of you entered the elevator.

You just shook your head at your friend as you leaned your head against the elevator walls. The adrenaline from the eventful day was starting to wear off and the tiredness had set in. As the elevator doors opened you looked back at the tall blonde, holding your hand out to him. "You gonna walk me to my room or did I let you dance with me for no reason earlier?"

Logan's eyes widened as he hurried to your side. "Coming!"

You rested your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked down the hall. "I did really have a good time tonight. Thanks for spending it with me. Even if you did steal me from Charles."

"I think me taking you from Charles was more of a favor or dare I say a good deed." Logan joked.

Rounding the corner to your room you heard giggles and shhs. Logan and you exchanged questioning looks, wondering who was being naughty in the hallway. But as you finally made it into eyeshot of your door you stopped dead in your tracks.

It was Lando and some girl you had never seen before, making out against your door. You felt Logan's grip on you tighten as he forced your feet to move with his towards your room. As you got closer the two of them still had not broken apart, only until you spoke up.

"Lando?"

Lando's eyes turned into saucers when he saw it was you standing there, but as they shifted to the right of you, they narrowed at the sight of Logan with his arm still around your shoulder.

"What are you doing?" It was a rhetorical question, anyone knew what they were doing. As you stood there waiting for a response your eyes glanced over to the girl, she was definitely his type, no doubt about it. The longer you looked the more you had wished you guys would have taken a taxi so maybe you wouldn't have had to witness this.

"Well. I can't seem to get into my room." He fumbled with the key card, still clearly drunk. "Stupid key card won't work."

Your eyes moved back to Lando, a small sigh escaping past your lips as you glanced up at the room number by the door. "That's because you have the wrong room. This is my room, 710. Yours-" you pointed down the hall "is down there, 701."

Lando's mouth formed an O shape after realizing what he had done and the random girl and him erupted into a fit of giggles. You tried to hold back the eye roll that was so badly wanting to let go. "Sorry. Let's go.." Lando paused looking at the girl he had pinned to your door seconds ago.

Jesus christ. He didn't even know her name.

"Bella." The girl answered, not even phased at him not knowing her name.

"Right Bella. Let's go." Lando dragged the girl behind him towards his room. He let the girl go in first and before he passed through the doorway, he gave one last look back at you before slamming the door shut behind him.

A loud sigh escaped past your lips as you stood there, staring at the now empty hallway. You had no reason to be jealous, you knew that. There truly was nothing between Lando and you and tonight was a prime example of him showing you he had no interest in you. But dammit, you couldn't lie and say it didn't sting when you saw him with someone else. Even when you try to push away your feelings, try and bury them so deep that you tell yourself you're fine being friends, being colleagues, but you know deep down that the want for something more will always be there. You dug in your clutch for your key card, finally finding it you scanned it. The little light turned green, but as you placed your hand on the handle you hesitated. Your forehead leaning against the previously occupied door.

"I used to like him."

Logan only gave a slight hum as a reply and when you turned your head to look at him, you knew he knew. He gave you a small smile and quick hug before bidding you goodnight.

"Talk to you tomorrow?" You questioned.

"Of course." He stated as he made his way down the hall.

As you entered your room you flung your heels off and grabbed some pajamas. Your open laptop on the desk caught your attention, you could have swore you saved everything and put it up before leaving earlier. Worst case scenario ran through your head as you turned it on, you prayed all your work wasn't gone. As the screen came to life a picture of Lando popped up. It was one of him you had taken before qualifying the day before. He had a cheesy grin on his face and he held up a number 4 on his fingers, one of his signature poses. You saved the picture and put your laptop up before climbing into bed.

Unfortunately for you, sleep did not come easy that night. You couldn't stop thinking about Lando and that girl. You knew you should just let it go, god knows you've seen him with multiple other women, but tonight was the first time you saw it with your own two eyes, in person. The feeling of seeing it actually happen versus seeing it on Twitter was like night and day. When you saw pictures being spread around, sure it was annoying, but you could just get off your phone and suddenly it was gone. Tonight though, was different, the image forever engraved into your mind. Thinking back to standing in the hallway made your stomach turn, it felt like it had officially confirmed that the idea of the two of you ever being a thing was officially dead.

Yet here you were, tossing and turning in bed. Because tonight you had officially let all those locked away feelings out for the first time in forever. You weren't sure if it was seeing him with that girl that did it or just the hinges finally breaking on that door. You just let yourself fully feel, feel every emotion your brain threw at you. Anger, jealousy, sadness, love? Even though you knew the two of you had no chance, you couldn't help but want. You wanted to be the girl he had pinned against your hotel room door. You wanted to be the girl he kissed before and after his races. Fuck you just wanted to be the girl he loved. More tossing and turning ensued and you just couldn't get your mind to shut off. As you glanced over at the alarm clock on the nightstand the time read 4:04. A dry laugh echoed through the room. 'Fucking number four' you whispered to yourself.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

As Lando awoke the next morning he knew he had made some bad decisions last night. The pounding headache was proof of bad decision number one and the phone number sloppily written on a tissue on his nightstand was proof of number two. He was thankful the girl had left before he woke up, mornings after one night stands were never his strong suit.

His mind wandered to last night as he laid in bed. Perhaps he may have been a little overzealous with his actions. He couldn't help it though, the idea of you not being his drove him crazy. The thought that you was more interested in other guys, especially Logan, always seemed to make him make some not so great decisions. Last night was a great example.

Lando wasn't entirely sure when his feelings for you turned into more than friends. In fact, when he heard they were getting a new photographer he wasn't even that keen on getting to know you. Photographers came and went in this business and a lot of the times he felt like they got in way. Sometimes he just didn't want to have a damn camera in his face, but then he met you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

February 2023

It was a formal setting, a team meeting before the start of the season. Of course the big topic was his new teammate Oscar, who he had met a couple months beforehand, along with the usual beginning of season talks. Towards the end of the meeting he had noticed a girl sitting in the corner of the room, he could tell she felt like she was out of place. He remembers thinking about how beautiful she was, but as he sat there he couldn't remember her from anywhere. Zak had already talked about who was new this season and Lando prided himself on knowing everyone on the team. So who was this mystery girl?

The meeting had finally ended and people were getting up to leave when Zak spoke up. "Oh yes. Sorry I forgot." He pointed towards the mystery girl. "Everyone this is the new team photographer. Y/N. Please make her feel welcome." Lando remembers a blush forming on your cheeks as you gave the room full of people a smile and small wave. As people filed out of the room Lando hung around, wanting to properly introduce himself to you. He noticed you were gathering your things to leave and he knew now was his window of opportunity.

You had bent down to pick up your bag and by the time you stood back up, there Lando stood, a smile tugging at his lips. You jumped a little, startled at the closeness of him. His smile finally broke free as he stuck out his hand for you to shake. "Sorry! Didn't mean to scare you. I'm Lando." As their hands touched he could have swore he felt the "sparks" that they talk about in the movies, his heart beat racing a little as he really took in all your beauty. Not to mention your perfume (that you still used today) that was making his head spin. "Welcome to McLaren." He was finally able to spit out.

"Thank you! I'm glad to be here."

Your accent made his ears perk up. "An American huh? What made you come all the way over here?"

The blush from when Zak introduced you had never really faded and when Lando mentioned your accent it just deepend. "Well, long story short. I used to work for IndyCar, made some connections with McLaren and now here I am."

Lando heard Zak calling his name from the hallway, he didn't want to end the conversation, but duty called. "Boss is hollering for me. It was lovely to meet you though. I'll see you around yeah?" He was trying not to sound like a douche while also trying not to seem overly enthusiastic. A simple 'see ya' came from your mouth as Lando walked out the door.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

For a about a month after that Lando played it cool. He watched you from a distance, watched as your friendship with Oscar formed. Watched as you did you work, something that he realized very early on that you were amazing at.

Around the three month mark Lando had decided that playing it cool was not his forte. He somewhat felt jealous as he watched his teammate and you joke around or when they would go get lunch without him when they were back at headquarters. Lando wanted to be the one you went to lunch with and joked with. He remembers a conversation Oscar and him had about you once.

It was an off week for racing and that meant a couple days were spent at Headquarters running the sim and creating content for social media. Oscar and you had came back from grabbing lunch. He watched them part ways and as Oscar came towards him Lando raised his eyebrows at him, giving him a questioning look.

"Oh don't even start. You know you can come with us." Oscar stated as he sat down.

"Well someone has to stay here and hold down the fort."

Oscar shook his head as he rolled his eyes at his older teammate, sometimes Lando's dramatics made him seem like the younger one. "Yeah I'm sure the hundreds of other people who work here can manage if Lando Norris leaves the building for an hour to go get lunch." Lando stayed silent, only crossing his arms over his chest as he stared back at Oscar. "You gonna finally fess up to why you've been acting so pissy lately?"

Lando scoffed at Oscar's question. "I just thought I would have gotten a lunch invitation by now."

"Literally told you, you can come with us. Y/N has even asked why you don't come with us." Oscar didn't let Lando respond to his comment. "Although, it is weird to me how distant you are with her. You like everyone on the team and I know you would like her too if you got to know her."

Lando shrugged, not exactly sure what to say back to his teammate. He didn't want to say, yes he knows he would like you, in fact the giant crush he has on you right now is making his stupid play cool decision eat away at his brain. The fact that even from only talking to you when necessary for work he's become enamored with you and your work. How you have a knack for capturing him in a way that no other photographer has before. How he thinks that if he lets himself become close to you that it may be bad for the both of them, but he wants to so bad. But he doesn't say any of that. All he says is.

"Well then let's all do lunch tomorrow."

The rest was history. After having lunch with you and Oscar the next day it seemed like you and him were inseparable. Looking back now Lando could have punched himself for not getting to know you better sooner.

As time went on his feelings grew stronger, but he was too scared to say anything. Too afraid to ruin the amazing friendship you guys had. Too afraid that if he opened his big mouth that things may be too awkward and you would leave your job and him. He had grown to love having a camera in his face, but only if you were the one taking the picture. And to think he might get that taken away just because of a crush destroyed him, so he kept his mouth shut.

It was fine for awhile, he would distract himself with random girls (who always somewhat resembled you) any chance he got. Something perhaps he shouldn't be proud of, but people already expected it from him. So why not live up to the playboy expectations? But he soon realized maybe his actions were hurting him more than helping him. When you started to become closer with some of the other drivers he thought perhaps he was pushing you away from him.

That was the last thing he wanted to do, so he thought maybe the best way to reel you back in was through your one true love; photography. Thus, lando.jpg was born. He wasn't going to lie, you truly had gotten him more interested in photography, but the instagram was started under false pretenses. The way his heart skipped a beat when he got a text from you about it was a little embarrassing to say the least.

you: do i need to break the news to zak that you are quitting racing to pursue photography or are you?

lando: nope. was just inspired by one of the best photographers i know.

you: oh so you're coming for my job?

lando: might need to post some content first before i go applying for jobs.

you: well i better be apart of your first post. considering i was the inspiration.

lando: wouldn't have it any other way.

And to no surprise there you were front and center on lando.jpg. Lando even made sure to make the caption "coming for her job". His sudden interest in photography had you around him more often, something he was beyond happy about. It had even escalated to the two of you hanging out, outside of work hours. As time passed it seemed like you two were just getting closer, but yet neither of you would admit your feelings for eachother.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

In Lando's mind he was content with how you were in his life at the moment, that was until a certain American driver entered yours. To give himself some credit, Lando had been pretty good with his actions lately, he hadn't been messing around with anyone for a good while now, but last night was the straw that broke the camel's back. He wasn't really sure if it was just Logan's actions last night or the fact that the Ferrari drivers couldn't have been more friendly with you either.

To Lando you were his and he never was good at sharing his toys as a child, so why should he have to share the girl he was obsessed with? His only problem though (that he could never seem to internalize) was that you weren't his. You were only his in his mind. And that's why he's lying here in this hotel room, alone, with just a headache and a phone number that will be thrown in the trash later.

He recalled the scene in the hallway last night. Sure he was drunk, but unfortunately not drunk enough to forget the whole thing. In his drunken defense he really did get the rooms mixed up, and maybe he would have eventually realized it. It was just his shit luck that you showed up, with Logan in tow. He remembered his stomach turning at the sight of Logan's arm around you. And now come morning he'd made himself nearly sick at the idea of Logan and you sharing a bed together last night, he wouldn't be surprised if you did though, he figured his actions probably drove you right into his arms.

Lando hadn't even realized what time it was until texts come rolling in asking where he was and how the car was going to leave without him.

Shit.

He had never packed his stuff up so fast in his life and as he walked out the door he knew he had probably forgot something. Speed walking was putting it politely, he was more like running down the hallway. He looked down for a split second to grab his phone out of his pocket and then suddenly he's barreling into something. That something turned out be someone, you to be exact. He hated to say it, but you were the last person he wanted to face this morning, considering their encounter in the hallway last night. But his fuck ups were casted aside as he crouched down to look at you.

"Fuck. I'm sorry. Are you okay?" He looked you over, he knew he was like a brick wall, so it had to have hurt when he ran into you.

You rubbed your arm as you looked up at him, his blue green eyes staring back at you with a worried expression on his face. "Goddamn Lando. Watch where you're going." You huffed.

He extended his hands out to help you up and offer you quickly accepted. "I know I'm sorry." He stated sheepishly.

Instead of helping you pick up you bags, Lando took the time to sneak a peek into your room. He wasn't sure what he thought he was going to find. Maybe a naked Logan still under your sheets from last night? But to his relief your room was empty, but he wasn't as quick with it as he thought.

"What are you doing?" You inquired.

His head snapped back to you, your eyebrows raised in question of his actions, your free hand on your hip.

"Just making sure you didn't forget anything." He mumbled out quickly.

An eye roll was all he got back from you as you turned on your heel. Suitcase and bags wheeling behind you down the hall. Lando quickly followed behind you, resembling a lost puppy. As the pair entered the lobby a handful of the other drivers were down there chatting, surely waiting for their cars to arrive. Lando gave some 'heys' as he walked past, there was no time to stop and chat. There were two cars waiting outside the hotel and Lando could see Oscar in the first one. Of course he was already in the car and waiting thought Lando. It was rare for them to all be leaving together. Most of the time they just went their separate ways after a race weekend, but on the rare chances they do have flights together, you always rode in the same car as him and majority of the time they sat by each other on the plane. So he was confused to see you getting into the second car.

After quickly throwing his bags in the back of the first car he trapsed over to the second car, ignoring the shouts from Oscar about missing their flight. The door was still open and as he peered inside the vehicle he'd wished he hadn't. There sat Logan and you, already chatting away. You were practically on Logan's lap with how close you were to him.

Lando cleared his throat, causing the two Americans to look towards him. "Y/N are you riding with me?"

His grip on the door frame getting tighter as he noticed the quick glance Logan and you shared, silence lulling between the three. Your silence already answering his question.

"Actually I'm gonna ride with Logan. He has the same flight too, so it works out." Her words cutting through the silence in the air and he thought that if he gripped the door frame any tighter he was going to leave dents in it.

Perhaps he was pushing you away from him.

"Alright." Lando stated, before what some would say slamming the car door shut.

The look on Oscar's face was the last thing Lando wanted to see when he entered the car. "Shut up." Lando huffed.

Oscar shrugged in response, a small smirk playing at his lips. "I didn’t even say anything!”

Lando rolled his eyes at his teammate, choosing to look out the window as the car started to move. “You didn’t have to. Your face said it all.”

Oscar had been dealing with Lando's hissy fits about you ever since that day he confronted him about going to lunch together. To say Oscar was ready for Lando to either man up and admit to you how he felt about you or move on was an understatement.

He also knew how you felt about Lando. Oscar had a hunch about it just from the way you would look at Lando sometimes. Or the way you would always glance at him when someone had said something funny, guarenting the two of them to be a giggling mess as soon as they made eye contact. Or the way you captured him in photos. Granted you did an amazing job when it came to taking any photos, but you captured Lando in a different way. In a loving way almost, Oscar remembered his girlfriend saying you captured Lando through the female gaze. Something he didn't really get, but clearly it meant something. So when you drunkenly admitted one race weekend how you liked Lando and how conflicted you felt about it all, he wasn't the least bit surprised.

So needless to say Oscar had gotten the rundown on what had occured in the hotel hallway last night from you this morning, infact very early this morning. He was still in bed when your loud pounding on the door woke him up. When he let you in, you just started in and Oscar didn't even say anything, just climbed back into bed as you paced back and forth in front of him. In the same breath you said that Lando is a douchebag, but that you don't care that he was hooking up with random women. Oscar could only let you ramble as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

What Oscar did to get stuck in the middle of his two friends who both clearly wanted each other, but were too stubborn and backwards to just admit how they felt was beyond him. Not to mention one friends solution was to just act like said feelings don't exist. While the other friend can only seem to make things worse for himself, undoubtedly pushing the other person away.

Oscar knew your version of last night, and he knew Lando probably didn't want to relive it, but sometimes stirring the pot was Oscar's only form of entertainment.

“So I take it you don’t want to talk about the hallway incident last night then?”

Lando’s attention averted from the window back to Oscar. “How did you know about that?”

“You forget Y/N’s my friend too-" he debated whether or not to bring up Logan, but fuck it he thought "and so is Logan."

A forced laugh came from Lando. “Everyone just seems to love him don’t they?”

“Maybe Y/N likes him because he doesn’t turn into an ass when she’s around other guys and he doesn't hook up with random women in front of her hotel room.” Oscar knew he was pushing Lando's buttons, something he knew how to do quite well if he did say so himself.

Lando's jaw tensed, what was Oscar’s deal this morning? “Kindly shut the fuck up Oscar.”

Oscar put his hands up in defense. “Just saying. Your actions have consequences. Even if she doesn’t know you're being an ass because you're jealous. I would think, she thinks, you’re just being a shit friend in general. So maybe get yourself in check. Or admit how you feel. Either way something’s gotta give.”

Silence filled the air between the McLaren drivers. Lando knew deep down that Oscar was right, but he would never admit it. To Lando, his self destructive tendencies sometimes made more sense to him than the logical sane ones that Oscar presented him.

No words were exchanged for the rest of the car ride, the Italian pop song playing softly from the radio was the only thing heard. As they boarded the plane Lando still held out some hope that you would sit next to him, like you always did. But that hope was crushed as soon as you sat in the row behind him, with Logan right next to you. His headphones were immediately over his ears, not wanting to hear the two of them the whole plane ride.

The look his teammate gave him as he sat down beside him was one of pity. Maybe he really had fucked up, he had a feeling that things between you and him these past few weeks had been different. But after last night and this morning, there was no doubt their relationship had shifted.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The next two races were in Azerbaijan and Singapore and you were still a little on edge from how Lando acted in Monza. Him slamming the door on Logan and you was beyond ridiculous. His attitude that whole night was also beyond ridiculous, especially considering how well he had performed in the race that day. A far cry from how he performed in the most recent two. Your job had been fairly easy on the Lando content aspect. He hadn't even placed in the top ten in Azerbaijan or Singapore, so that meant no extra pictures of podiums or celebrations for him. Which honestly, was fine with you, considering you didn't know if you were going to get asshole Lando or sweet funny Lando. In Singapore you had gotten asshole Lando, which looking back was ten times worse than his attitude in Monza.

You had some free time before qualifying and so you had inconspicuously made your way over to the William's garage. Mostly everyone there knew you by now as Logan and you had become fairly close. Not to mention the bright papaya uniform didn't allow for any blending in to occur. Logan was talking with some of the mechanics by his car when he spotted you, he quickly excused himself and came over.

"What are you doing in enemy territory?" Logan joked.

"I had some free time, came to see if I could figure out some strategies to relay back."

Logan raised his eyebrows a playful smirk developing on his face. "Oh I see. This friendship has just been a ploy all along!"

You raised your hands in defense, laughs coming from the both of you. "You caught me."

The two of you chatted some more, particularly about how excited you were for the next race, which just so happened to be in Austin. Any chance to be back in the states was one you took full advantage of. It didn't even matter that it wasn't even close to home, it was still home enough to you and you figured Logan thought so too. As the two of you talked about making plans while in Austin you heard a certain British voice holler your name.

"Y/N!"

Both Logan and yours heads turned towards the voice, the voice that sounded more like a mother hollering at her disobedient child than anything.

There Lando stood, his papaya suit making him stick out just like you and by his tone you already knew which Lando you were going to get. He was stood outside the garage, probably not daring to enter. You mouthed a 'what' at him and he motioned for you to come to him. You shook your head at him, deciding to speak up this time.

"I'm talking to Logan. What do you want?"

He rolled his eyes as he begrudgingly made his way towards Logan and you. "Don't you have work to be doing back at our garage?"

What the fuck? What was he trying to be your boss now? You were sure the look on your face was nothing shy of displeasure.

"What are you talking about? I've done more than enough for today and it's still an hour before qualis." You glanced over at Logan and you could tell he was a little taken aback from how Lando had spoken to you.

Lando's eyes lingered on Logan as he spoke. "Well still don't think you should be hanging around in other teams garages while on the clock." His gaze moved over to you. "Don't you think?"

You so badly wanted to smart off to him, make a snide comment about how badly he had done in the last race in Azerbaijan and how maybe he needed to be the one working. But you didn't, you bit your tongue, figuring it would only make things worse. So you only stated the obvious.

"Did Zak send you to come get me or something? Because last time I checked you weren't my boss."

Before Lando could respond Logan spoke up. "I think I'm gonna leave you guys to-"

Your head snapped back to face Logan, grabbing his arm before he could move. "No. We were having a conversation." As you turned to look back at Lando you could have swore you saw him staring at your hand on Logan's arm, but his gaze flickered back towards you too quickly. "Lando I'll be back at the garage in a little bit. I was talking to Logan before you interrupted and I'd like to finish my conversation if you don't mind." Your tone nothing shy of shitty.

You just wanted him to leave, he was causing somewhat of a scene to the people close by. And thankfully for you he left without a word, only a disgruntled look and a huff as he walked back towards the McLaren garage.

"Sorry." You stated as you averted your attention back towards Logan "I don't know what his problem is anymore. Ever since Monza he's been so fucking bizarre. Always hot and cold, I never know what Lando I'm going to get. It's been making my life a little stressful if you couldn't tell."

Logan glanced at Lando walking away then back to you, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I think I might have a hunch."

Your eyebrows furrowed at his statement. What more could Logan know than you? Not to sound like one of those people, but you clearly knew Lando better than Logan. "What? What is it?"

Logan did the old sealing his lips and throwing away the key gesture. "That's for me to know and you to find out."

"Oh come on tell me!" You exclaimed, desperately wanting to know what Logan knew.

He quickly changed the subject. "So how about going to a rodeo in Austin?"

"Logan tell me!"

He only shook his head as you unsuccessfully tried to pry the information out of him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Austin

A month had passed since Singapore and you had spent your break alone. It wasn't horrible, but it wasn't great. If anything it made you realize you really needed to make friends outside of people at work.

It didn't help when pictures from the Bali trip that a bunch of the drivers had went on, Lando included, started to be posted. Bali had treated him well and you wanted to kick yourself for ogling over the pictures of him. Especially after how moody he's been, but you couldn't help it. His sun kissed skin, his curls in full force from the Bali climate, and that stupid smile (that you loved so much) on his face had you smitten.

The break was over soon enough and you weren't that upset because the end of the break meant that you were coming home for a little bit. Something that you had been looking forward to again ever since Miami.

The warm sun hit your face as you walked around the paddock. Texas in October was still warm and you hoped it wouldn't get too hot today. You were giddy, mainly because of being back in the states, but you also just had a good feeling about the race today. Somehow you knew either Oscar or Lando were going to have a good day today, you had hoped both, but at least one would make you happy.

As you snapped some pictures of the crew around the garage you felt a presence behind you. Though you already knew who it was, that cologne had invaded your senses one too many times for you to forget who donned it. Deciding to let him be the one to say something, you pretended you didn't notice him behind you and took some more pictures.

"Think I might be a better photo subject, don't you think?" Of course the first thing out of his mouth was some cheeky comment.

You merely rolled your eyes, and as you turned to face him you quickly captured an off guard photo of him. Clicking the buttons to look back at the photo you grimaced, turning it around to show Lando. "I think this photo says different."

Lando moved in closer next to you to get a better look. "That's not fair! I wasn't ready!" He exclaimed, laughter laced in his words.

Shaking your head you couldn't help but let out a laugh. "Every good photo subject should be camera ready at all times. This right here proves your statement wrong."

"Yeah whatever."

You had suddenly become hyper aware at just how close the two of you were. Your arms pressed against each other as the two of you huddled around your camera. It had been awhile since you had been in this close proximity to him and you weren't sure if it was that or the cologne but your head was spinning. Your gaze wandered from his big hands that now held your camera, up his arms, then neck, and they finally landed on his face. The tan he had acquired in Bali still glowed in the Texas sun and his curls moved slightly in the breeze. God, you had missed him. You had not only missed him physically, you missed the Lando you were in the presence of right now. The funny and sweet Lando. Not the Lando you had in Singapore.

"Hey can we talk real quick?"

Hearing his voice had snapped you out of the trance you didn't even know you were in. A blush crept onto your cheeks, you only hoped he hadn't caught you staring. You only nodded your head at him, hoping you had heard him correctly.

"I wanted to apologize for how I was in Singapore. That wasn't me back there. I think I was still mentally struggling from doing poorly in Azerbaijan and knowing I would and did do poorly in Singapore just added onto it. So again I'm sorry."

Wow. Where did this Lando come from? You were grateful for him apologizing, but there were still plenty of other things he needed to apologize for.

"Oh. It's okay (even though it really wasn't). Thank you for apologizing though." You weren't going to ruin this now rare good moment with Lando, so you quickly changed the subject. "So how was Bali?"

His eyes lit up. "Oh it was amazing. Wish I could have just stayed there. You would have loved it too, you should have come!"

Well, there was never an invite sent your way, so how were you supposed to have come? Is what you wanted to say, but instead you just said. "Think that might be frowned upon in the workplace."

Lando shook his head. "I doubt it. How was your break though?"

You shrugged, it definitely was nothing like Bali. "Just spent some time at home."

A frown stretched across Lando's face. "Now see, now I really wish you would have came."

You just ignored him, the idea that he was stood here telling you he wanted you to come but couldn't even invite you stung a little bit. So you changed the subject again and the two of you chatted until race time, and for a moment it was just like old times. Lando soon left to prepare for the race and you finished up the crew pictures.

Later as you stood there while the national anthem played you had no idea just how crazy your night was about to be.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

If there was a race Lando was looking forward to the least, he would have to say Austin. The main reason being he knew Logan and you would be up eachothers asses.

But after some self reflection during the break he had promised himself he would be on his best behavior from now on. Personal life and racing included. He had trained extra hard this past week, running the sim like no other, and trying make up to the team for how badly he had performed in the previous two races. Everyone knew the car was more than capable of performing, it was the driver who was at fault for the poor position. The driver who after Singapore may have went into a spiral after realizing he may have fucked everything up more even more than what he thought after Monza.

Lando couldn't help it, it was like when he saw you with other guys, specifically Logan, his brain short circuited and every promise he had made to himself about behaving went out the window. But after having that moment with you in the garage moments ago he realized he had to keep his shit together. It was the first real carefree funny moment the two of them shared in months. He didn't want to go that long without it again, without you near him, without hearing your laugh that he had caused. So if all you were ever going to be in his life was a friend, Lando guessed he could live with it.

Him living with it lasted until the post race celebrations.

He had tried, really he had. In fact he held up the racing end of his promise by winning. His first Grand Prix win to be exact. In the post race interviews he credited his win to all the extra hard work he had been putting in and of course the team, but his big motivator may have been winning to impress you. Even if he had said he was fine with being friends, he still wanted to show to you that he wasn't the loser that you had seen in the last two races. Show you that in many ways he was better than Logan, and what better way than to win the race both of them were competing in. And the fact that it was an American race was just an added bonus to him. He was grasping at straws at this point, but the little sliver of hope kept him sane, until it didn't.

How a big group of drivers, significant others, and friends ended up at some club, karaoke bar, line dancing, and mechanical bull place all wrapped into one he will never know. But he was sure you had something to do with it. It was a far cry from the places he was used to overseas or hell even in Miami or Vegas, but he had just won the Grand Prix, he was going to have a good time no matter where he was at.

The drinks were going down smooth tonight, and at one point he had lost count of how many he had consumed. It seemed like they just magically kept appearing in front of him, he was constantly being brought drinks or shots from people wanting to congratulate him on his win. At this point he was starting to feel a little unsteady on his feet. Perhaps he may have gone too hard too fast with the alcohol tonight. He wasn't plastered yet, but he was getting there quick. He was about ready to down another shot when his teammate came up behind him. "Think you may need to slow down on the drinking for awhile."

Oscar walked alongside Lando, well more like guided him, towards the karaoke section of the place. Sitting him down at one of the booths as he slid in next to him. Lando slumped forward, his face resting wobbly in his hands. You were seated at the same booth but directly across from them.

"Jesus Lan, we've been here two hours. How much have you had to drink?" You asked.

Lando held up his pointer finger, indicating one.

Oscar and you shook your heads at the curly haired driver. "Very funny." You stated.

Lando now donned a sour look on his face, they had misunderstood his gesture. "No. I'm number 1!"

"Yes Lando you won today." Oscar reassured his teammate.

Oscar and you sipped your drinks while you prayed Lando would sober up enough that you didn't need to be worried about him. The pair was having to either decline the drinks that people were sending over for the winner or drink them themselves. They soon found themselves a little on the tipsy side from perhaps doing the same thing Lando was guilty of moments ago.

"You guys are freaking idiots." Lando mumbled. The once responsible friends that were looking after Lando were now in the same boat as him. Perhaps Lando was slightly more sober than them at this point.

After your second tequila sunrise the idea of karaoke sounded like the best thing ever. You knew Oscar wouldn't be up for it and Lando didn't look the happiest right now, so you searched the place for the one person who you knew would be up for it. You were able to spot him easily, his tall frame making him stand out in the crowd.

"Logan!"

You were tipsy enough to forget that yelling for a person in a loud club did absolutely nothing. And as you yelled again Lando tried to just tune you out, ignore the annoyance and jealousy arising in him over you hollering another man's name. He was supposed to be on his best behavior, but he should have known from before that alcohol and his good behavior don't mix.

You had finally gotten Logan's attention and as Lando saw the American driver walk towards their table he fiddled with his phone. Not even bothering to acknowledge him as he greeted him.

"Will you please do karaoke with me?" He heard you ask Logan and without even looking up he knew you were giving Logan those damn puppy dog eyes that you used to give him when you wanted him to do something for you.

He heard Logan laugh and from the corner of his eye he saw him reach out his hand for you to grab. "Yes, but only for my favorite girl."

Lando's blood ran cold at Logan's use of words. His favorite girl? His? The simple three letter word made his body tense and as the pair walked away Lando finally looked up. He had wished he hadn't as he saw Logan's arm around your shoulder as the two of them walked.

"Mate I thought you had gotten your shit together? I can feel how tense you are from over here." Oscar's speech was clear, he clearly hadn't drank as much as Lando thought.

"I'm perfectly fine." Lando stated as he looked back down at his phone.

"Yeah and my ears didn't pop from the pressure displacement in the air when you heard Logan call Y/N his favorite girl."

Lando did not like that fact that he was trapped in this booth with the one person who could read him like a book. "Can you let me out?"

Oscar scoffed at Lando's question. "You don't want to listen to Y/N and Logan sing? We have an excellent view of the stage." He took another swig of his drink as he eyed his teammate.

Not even twenty seconds later the two Americans took the stage and Lando suddenly found his phone to be more interesting. They had decided to sing some song about saving horses and riding cowboys, whatever it was Lando had tried to tune it out. But when he would hear you laugh in between parts of the song his eyes would venture from his phone up to the stage. He never looked for long, his jealousy getting the best of him when he would see how close Logan and you were. Not even physically, at this point they were clearly emotionally close, perhaps even closer than Lando and you ever were. At least that's what Lando's worst case scenario brain told him.

Lando managed to make it through their karaoke session without blowing a gasket. But as you returned to the table your smile faded as you looked at Lando, who looked less than thrilled as you approached him.

Sliding back into the booth you eyed him. Your mouth working faster than your brain. "Why are you always so unhappy when I'm around anymore? Or when we go out? If you don't want me to come out just tell me." The apology he had given you earlier didn't even exist at this point and the one good moment that you didn't want to ruin from earlier was gone too. You had enough liquid courage in you to finally say what had been eating away at you for months.

Lando was slightly taken aback by your sudden abruptness. He wasn't sure what to say at first. His teeth found the inside of his bottom lip as he tried to choose his words carefully. "I'm not unhappy when you're around, I love having you around. Also, I wouldn't invite you out if I didn't like having you around Y/N." He figured leaving out the mention of him hating when Logan is out with you was a good idea.

You huffed before grabbing one of the shots that had just been dropped off at the table. You downed it easily, slamming the shot glass back down on the table. "Really? Because you sure don't show it."

Oscar was still seated next to Lando, taking sips of his drinks as he watched the two of them go back and forth. He knew this was a long time coming, but he didn't expect to get a front row seat to it.

Lando sat up straight in the booth, suddenly getting defensive. "Why would I not want you around?"

You drummed you fingers against the table as you stared him down. "You always get so pissy when we are out. Like I'm not allowed to have fun or something. Or not allowed to have a little free time while I'm working."

"That's not true." Even though it was.

You rolled your eyes, you clearly were getting nowhere with this conversation and perhaps you should have waited until you both were sober. "You know what nevermind. I should have never brought it up."

Your sarcastic tone went straight through Lando, but he didn't even get a chance to respond back as you had already scooted out of the booth and was lost in the sea of bodies.

"That went well." Oscar stated, but when Lando didn't respond Oscar just kept going. "You remember what I said on the way to the airport in Monza? Either tell you how you feel or get your shit together? You know she's not a confrontational person, so she has clearly had enough of your shit to even bring it up." He took the last swig of his drink and as he got up from the booth he gave Lando one last final warning. "You're gonna lose her and this little conversation the two of you just had was proof enough."

Lando now sat alone in the booth, the only thing surrounding him was empty glasses. How did his nights that were supposed to be filled with celebration and good times always end up filled with drama and regrets? Oscar's words ate away at him as sat there twiddling his thumbs. How much more of this back and forth shit could he take? How much more could you take? Lando scanned the table and found one lonesome shot untouched. He wasn't even sure what it was until that familiar burn hit his throat.

Tequila.

Tequila always seemed to make him make bad decisions, so he knew tonight was either going to end badly or great. Either way he was finally going to man up and tell you how he felt.

It didn't take long to find you, considering you had made yourself the center of attention in the whole place. He heard your laughs before he saw you, but from the crowd of men gathered around the mechanical bull he knew exactly where you were.

He pushed his way to the front and sure enough there you were. When he saw you on that thing he couldn't help but stare. The operator of the machine clearly knew what he was doing, giving everyone a show. The way your thighs clenched onto the sides of the bull to help you stay on. Your ass and tits jiggling when the operator moved the bull a certain way. Not to mention just watching your body sway, you'd think you were a pro at this. Lando's mind started to wonder to how you'd look on top of him and that's when he realized it wasn't just him watching you look like that. You were surrounded by a big group of men, some of them his fellow competitors, that he was sure were also thinking the same impure thoughts as him.

He spotted the Ferrari drivers first, both of them leaning over the railing watching you intently. Then he spotted Logan, eyes wide as he watched your ass shake in the air.

This was the beginning of the end of Lando's good behavior promise. Lando could feel his blood starting to boil, knowing all these men were undoubtedly getting their dicks hard over you. He didn't mean to cause a scene, really he didn't. But before he even realized what he was doing he had jumped the railing and had his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you off the bull. Your legs kicking him and insults flew through the air as you protested his actions. He had carried you towards a relatively empty area and as he sat you down he prepared himself for the fallout of his actions.

"What the fuck is your problem?" You shouted, anger and liquor doing nothing to conceal how you felt.

Lando raised his hands in defense. "Y/N. I was just trying to protect you-"

"Why would I need protecting? Especially coming from you? The way you've acted towards me these past couple months I figured you'd rather me be dead!"

The handful of people who were around had started to stare, if Lando had thought he caused a scene moments ago, it was nothing compared to now.

Lando tried to explain himself. "You should have seen how those guys were looking at you."

You scoffed at his comment. "Well have you thought maybe I wanted them to look? I'm allowed to have a little fun Lando, maybe you should try it sometime. In fact I'm surprised you haven't found your random girl to hookup with on my hotel room door yet." Your words were laced with venom, he had finally pushed you hard enough.

His eyes narrowed at you. "Why are you bringing up what happened in Monza? All I was trying to do was save you from a night filled with fighting off all those sleazy guys. They only wanted one thing from you, especially the other drivers."

Shaking your head at Lando, a laugh escaped past you lips. "Yeah I guess you would know about using women wouldn't you?"

Lando ignored you dig at him, fully knowing what you had said was true.

"I just think you should be careful about who you are friends with. The way Logan was looking at you-" More often than not Lando was quite the hypocrite when it came to his issues with you.

Your jaw tightened at the mention of Logan, there was no reason to bring him into this.

Tonight was the final straw, you had truly had enough. This wasn't a healthy friendship and as much as it pained you, it was becoming more of a reality that this chapter of your life was needing to come to an end. As you cut the McLaren driver's sentence off you knew this may be the last time you spoke to him.

"You know what Lando, you are right. I do need to be more careful about who I'm friends with." You moved closer to him, the two of them merely inches apart, your finger poking at his chest as you spoke. "And he's standing right here."

Lando could have swore all the air left his body as you spoke those five words to him. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Surely he had heard you wrong. "You don't mean that." Lando stammered, his eyes never leaving yours, trying to search for a joking gleam in your eyes. But dark, cold, and empty eyes were all that stared back at him.

"I do." You whispered, you hand lingering on his chest, you could feel his heart racing, yours doing the same.

Lando stood there dumbfounded as you walked away. He didn't protest, purely from the fact that he was still processing what had just happened. Had he finally lost you? From the looks of it he had and he hadn't even told you how he felt. Why couldn't he be normal for once? He always had to make everything about him, about how he felt.

He figured at this point what else did he have to lose? He was still going to tell you how he felt about you. Maybe if he was lucky you would feel the same, but with Lando's track record he knew his chances were slim.

You had a good head start on him, but his legs carried him as fast as they could out of the building and down the street towards the hotel. He silently thanked god that there weren't any fans outside the hotel and by the time he reached you room he was out of breath as he knocked on you door.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. How could you have been so stupid? The tears thankfully hadn't started to fall until you had reached your hotel room, but now as you sat on your bed they wouldn't stop coming.

You knew what you did was the right thing, but you still felt stupid. Stupid for even developing feelings for Lando in the first place, stupid for allowing your relationship to turn into what it had. Why you ever let it get to this point was beyond you. It hurt, god did it hurt, but life teaches you lessons and this clearly was one. As you typed up a draft resignation letter on your phone you heard a rapid knock at your door. You had texted Oscar earlier letting him know you were coming back to the hotel, that things had gone sour between Lando and you. So, you figured that was him coming to check up on you.

But oh boy were you wrong. On the other side of the door stood an out of breath Brit, who was the cause of the tears you were now rapidly trying to wipe away. You had tried to slam the door in his face, but he quickly stuck his foot in the doorframe, a groan coming from him as the door hit his foot.

Good I hope it hurt you thought.

"Y/N please. I need to talk to you." His grip on the door was much stronger than yours and he easily was able to make his way into your room.

"Why so you can shame me or be rude to me or bad mouth one of my friends again? Think you did enough of that earlier." You stood your ground, arms crossed across your chest.

Lando closed the door behind him and as he eyed you he fully took you in. The red puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks. God he had fucked up. "What was said earlier got blown way out of proportion. That's not how I intended for you to take my words."

"It wasn't just what you said earlier Lando, it's been a combination of a lot of other things. I don't know what switched between us, but it's not the same as it used to be. You're an ass to me more than not anymore. I don't know what I did to make you act like that, but you won't have to deal with me much longer. I'm writing my resignation letter. It'll be sent in the morning and I'll be gone."

Lando had started to panic, the realness of the situation they had found themselves in had really started to set in. "No no no no! You don't have to quit your job. You love what you do."

A loud sigh passed your lips, clearly annoyed at him. "Well when the main person I work with can't ever seem to be happy with what I do or associate myself with, then perhaps quitting is what needs to be done." Maybe it was some of the alcohol still in your system or maybe you just wanted to be an ass back to him finally, but the tears had subsided and your mood had turned slightly petty. "Which now that I think about it, why do you care so much about who I hang out with? I mean it's ok for you to fuck any woman with pulse, but I suddenly become close with other drivers and now it's time to slut shame me? Wonder what the press would think about that?"

The smirk that was on you face made Lando irate, you were so fucking stubborn sometimes. All he had wanted to do was come up here and confess how he felt, fix his fuck up from earlier, but now he was riled up again.

"When in the fuck have I slut shamed you? I mean what do you want me to say? That you can go fuck my competitors? If thats all thats stopping you then please don't let me get in your way." Lando regretted his words as soon as they came out of his mouth. The last thing he wanted was for you to go fuck someone else.

That wasn't at all what you were trying to get at. In fact it was the opposite, but if he was going to bring it up, you were going to play along, anything to get under his skin. What better way to hurt a man's ego than to talk about how much you would want to get with his competitors. You grabbed your phone off the bed, unlocking it and scrolling through your contacts. "Maybe I will. I mean I have endless choices don't I? I know Charles would have loved to fuck me in Monza. Or perhaps Logan? You said yourself he was eyeing me tonight. Or maybe Charles and Carlos both? You should have seen how they were with me in the taxi when we were in Monza."

Lando thought he was going to lose his mind, he felt like he was going to break his jaw from how hard he had it clenched. Just hearing you say those things had him on the edge of snapping. "Hmm. I think I'll go with Logan. Think he would know how to please me." Before you could even pretend to start texting him Lando's hand was on your wrist, prying you phone from your hands. His breath labored as he pulled you close to him.

"You are not fucking any of them."

Your eyes widened at his actions, his hands around your wrists, his pupils blown as he stared you down, and the smell of tequila on his breath. The petty joking manner you had moments ago was now long gone.

The angry tension in the air had now transitioned into something foreign, something deeper. And unknown to you but you had been the one to change it.

"Well why not?" You had tried to bring back the previous atmosphere, but the Lando that stood inches away from you was one you had never seen before.

"Because the only driver you can fuck is me."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. If there was a world record for how fast someone could blush you were sure you had just broken it, except your whole body felt like it was blushing. It radiated through your body directly to your core.

Your mind felt like tv static, you didn't know what to say or do. Lando was still inches away from you, your wrists still tightly in his grasp. "What?" Was all you could muster up and even that was barely coherent.

"Oh come on. You aren't gonna make me spell it out for you are you?" With just a wide eyed blank stare as your response he freed your wrists, but his hands now glided over your arms and shoulders and up to your neck. The feeling of his hands dancing over your skin made your eyes flutter shut. This was far more different than your knees touching or a lingering hug.

This wasn't how Lando had expected to be telling you how he felt, he hadn't even had anything like this one his mind, but you talking so freely about fucking his friends flipped a switch in him. "You gonna make me tell you how I've been obsessed with you since I saw you sitting in that meeting on your first day? How I drove myself crazy trying to distance myself from you, but you're so fucking intoxicating you just kept drawing me back in. How I basically ruined our friendship because I couldn't stand to see you with fucking Logan."

He paused, but still maintained eye contact as he pressed a chaste kiss on your hand. "Is it wrong of me to assume you've wanted me as bad as I've wanted you?" It was almost his way of asking permission to continue, and you granted it easily by letting out a faint 'no'. With that simple word his kisses moved from your hand up your arm and finally landing on your neck. It was somewhat embarrassing how hot and bothered his words and just some simple kisses were making you.

"Or how about how I could only think of you when I got with other women. Wishing it was you I had pressed up against your hotel room door in Monza. How the idea of any other man even looking at you in a sexual way made me want to break their jaw. You want me to tell you how fucking stupid I was for not telling you how I felt sooner. For basically putting us through hell and back because I couldn't keep my shit together when you talked to Logan."

His kisses had gotten sloppier, and he started to pay more attention to your neck. A small moan emitting from you when he found that sweet spot. You could feel his smirk against your neck as your moans filled his ears.

As your mind slowly processed all that he had just said, a lot more things started to click. First of all your inklings about him feeling the same were very much correct. But to think you hadn't put him being an ass because he was jealous of Logan together had you baffled. Usually you were very observant, but clearly not observant enough. You felt like your body was on autopilot as he still worked on your neck, you were supposed to be mad at him, supposed to be leaving him, leaving all the shitty moments behind. But as you stood here now you were glad he had come up to your room. Glad that you didn't fight that hard to not let him into your room. Because even if you had cut him out of your life and left, you knew deep down those feelings for him would never go away. No matter what had happened between the two of you.

Your hands pressed against his abdomen as he was surely giving you something on your neck that was going to need to be covered in the morning. "Wish I would have told you how I felt sooner." Your words were breathy as his hands now wandered up under your shirt. "You weren't the only one being driven crazy. You were-" It was hard for you to focus on your words, your brain only wanting to focus on how good Lando's hands and lips felt on you. "You were constantly fucking with my head, making me think you liked me and then getting with other women. Made me feel like shit when I saw you with them and then you made me feel like shit for months because you're an asshole."

His attack on your neck had halted, the two of you making eye contact once again. Your eyes glanced down at his lips, they were red and swollen, as much as you wanted to hate him, your desire to kiss him was much stronger.

"I know baby and I'm sorry for ever making you feel like that.'

Your eyebrow raised at the term of endearment. "Baby? Moving a little fast there aren't you Norris?"

A smirk had spread across his face. "You've been my baby in my mind for a long time. So forgive me for being eager."

Rolling your eyes at the brunette you linked your hands behind his neck, once again staring at his lips. "You gonna finally kiss me or do I need to go find Logan?"

The mere mention of the American had Lando pulling you into him, your lips meeting in an instant. It took a second for your brain to catch up, but once it did you practically melted into him. You had thought for a long time what it would feel like to kiss Lando, and you were happy to say it was better than you had imagined. His right hand was cupping your face while his left held onto your side. If you were weak in the knees before you surely were now as the two of you pulled away from each other, grinning like idiots. "Why did we deprive ourselves of this for so long?" You asked as your thumb caressed his cheek.

Lando leaned into your touch. "I don't know. I guess we both like to suffer." He gently removed your hand from his face placing an open mouth kiss to your palm. "I still need you to know how sorry I am for being such an ass. Let me show you how sorry I am you." He started to trail kisses back up your arm and you honestly didn't need any convincing. With a simple 'ok' from you Lando's lips were back on yours as he leaded you back towards your bed, your lips never separating.

The back of your knees hit the end of the bed causing you to fall back onto the bed. Using your forearms to prop yourself up you stared back at the driver who was stood at the end of the bed. He kicked off his shoes and his shirt was being pulled over his head in a matter of seconds. He didn't even give you time to gawk at his toned abdomen before he was climbing onto the bed, his chain dangling over you as your lips reconnected. Wrapping your fingers around the chain you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Your need for him growing more and more by the minute. The desire for his touch consumed you and as you started to squirm under him you heard a soft laugh come from him.

"That needy huh?" His teasing tone causing the aching throb between your legs to intensify. With only a whine coming from you as a response he looped his fingers through your belt loops, slightly tugging on them. "Which should come off first? Pants or shirt?"

You were in no mood for his teasing, the idea of having to wait any longer for his hands to be on you again sounded like torture. "Both."

"Both? That's my girl."

My girl repeated in your head as you struggled to get your shirt off. Those two simple words causing your arousal to grow even more and as he pulled off your pants you sure you had already soaked your panties. But Lando wasn't focused on that yet, to his surprise when he looked up to see you taking off your shirt, you hadn't worn a bra. Your breasts were already on full display. "Jesus." He groaned as he climbed his way back up to you. "Should have known you didn't wear a bra tonight the way your tits were bouncing on that bull." He wasted no time, immediately placing his large hands on them. As he pinched and tugged one nipple with one hand, his mouth had found its way onto the other. It was a sight you couldn't tear your eyes away from, something you only dreamed about. A whimper escaped past your lips and Lando could have died right there a happy man as your whimpers filled his ears.

As much as you were enjoying the pleasure he was giving you, it was creating a much bigger need someplace else. If your panties weren't soaked earlier, they definitely were now. The aching between your legs was becoming almost unbearable. Your hands found there way to his hair, fingers running through his messy curls. "Lan." You breathed out. His actions halted at the sound of you calling for him, blown pupils staring up at you.

"What baby?" No audible response came from you, but when he saw you clench your thighs he knew exactly what you wanted. "Oh, I think I know what you want." His fingers trailed from your breasts all the way down to the waistband of your panties, his fingers toying with it, gently snapping it against your skin.

"Thought you weren't gonna be an ass anymore?" His teasing making you crazy.

Even though he was looking down you could see the smirk on his face, the little shit was enjoying every minute of making you squirm. You watched as his hands landed on your thighs and in one swift motion they were hooked under your knees and he had pulled you even closer to him, causing your legs to be wide open for him.

Lando felt his dick twitch at the sight of your soaked panties, and once he pulled them off he thought he had died and gone to heaven at just how fucking wet you were, from him. He hadn't even properly touched you yet and you were already a mess. His hands masssaged you inner thighs and ghosted around the area you wanted him the most. "God, you're gonna be the death of me. You know how fucking soaked you are?" He took a single finger and quickly ran it up your slit, your wetness that lathered his finger quickly entered his mouth.

Your skin was on fire from just that his one little action, and as you watched him suck your wetness from his finger you thought your heart was gonna beat out of your chest. "Lan please."

"Please what?"

You threw your head back in frustration, he had to be getting off on this. "I want your mouth" you glanced down at his long thick fingers that had found a home on your thighs once more "and your fingers."

"Whatever my girl wants." He scooted down on the bed and as he lowered his head between your thighs the pit in your stomach grew. He wasted no time in getting to work, or in finding your clit. As he gently sucked on the sensitive bud you couldn't hold in your moans. The boy was a fucking expert with his tongue and from the way he was devouring you, you could tell he was enjoying it. Your fingers grabbed his curls as he fucked your hole with his tongue, his nose brushing against your clit. It was embarrassing how fast he had you close to coming undone. Your chest heaving as you felt your orgasm coming, and he hadn't even used his fingers yet, but almost like he knew what you wanted, you felt two fingers slide inside of you. Your moans getting louder as he still worked your clit and finger fucked you at the same time. When he added a third finger and curled his fingers, reaching that soft spongy spot, your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

He had raised his head to look up at you, a smirk splayed across his glistening face, covered in your slick. "That's my pretty girl. Come on, I know you're close. Gonna come all over my fingers and face aren't you."

His words of praise went straight to your core and as you clenched around his fingers a small laugh came from him. "Someone likes to be praised." You couldn't even be bothered to give him a witty comment back, you were on the edge of coming undone. His mouth went back to work and in a matter of seconds you were unraveling beneath him. Your legs shook as he still worked you through your orgasm. His name tumbling out of your mouth like a chant.

Your breathing was labored as you tried to come down from your high. Glancing down at Lando, he had never looked hotter to you than right now. His face and fingers covered in you, his hair a mess and lips swollen from him devouring your pussy. And the mess between your thighs that was caused by him, had you craving more.

Lando's erection was painfully throbbing at this point, still trapped behind his boxers and jeans. How he didn't just blow his load at the sight of you unraveling because of him, he wasn't sure. But one thing he did know was that he needed to be inside you, immediately. "I know you're still coming down but I need you so badly." His hands fumbling with the button on his jeans.

You simply shook your head at him, hands reaching out to help him get his pants off. "I don't care what you do as long as you can make me come like that again."

The words of praise went straight to Lando's cock, he truly didn't think he had ever been this hard in his life. The way you were looking up at him through your lashes as you toyed with the waistband of his boxers had him groaning. "Y/N stop."

A look of innocence spread across your face. "What? I was just giving you a taste of your own medicine." Your hand brushed past his still clothed erection and the whimper that came from him was like music to your ears. You soon granted him relief has you tugged his boxers down, his cock slapping against his stomach. Your eyes widened as you took all of him in. He was clearly blessed with not only good size, but girth. The mere thought of him stretching you out had you practically drooling.

You wanted to please him the same way he had you, but you had barely rubbed your thumb over his tip before his his large hand wrapped around your wrist, halting your actions. "I really just want to be inside of you."

Not one to oblige you scooted back on the bed, head resting on the pillows as you watched him come towards you. The anticipation was killing you and as he rubbed his tip between your folds it had only made it worse. "You know how beautiful you are? Think you might be even more beautiful when you take my cock won't you baby?"

Eagerly nodding at his words you couldn't take your eyes off his cock as his tip teased your entrance. You knew he was going to be a tease, so you rolled your hips towards him, patience not being your strong suit when it came to him. "That hungry for my cock huh?"

In one swift motion he had pushed himself in you, completely bottoming out. "Oh my god!" It had caught you off guard, even with how wet you were it still hurt a little as his cock stretched you out.

You hadn't even realized you had clenched around him until he spoke up. "Fuck. I'm not gonna last long if you keep doing that." His face scrunched up in pleasure.

"Sorry." You stated, pressing a kiss to his forearm.

Lando had started to move his hips and as the first waves of pleasure jolted through your body you couldn't help but think this is not how you saw your night going when you woke up this morning.

The room was filled with a mix of both yours and Lando's moans and the sound of slapping skin. You weren't trying to be dramatic, but you truly thought Lando's cock was made for you. The way he filled you up just right with each stroke was making your head spin.

Still sensitive from your first orgasm, you could feel yourself getting close again, the familiar pit in your stomach growing as he pounded into you relentlessly. The pleasure overwhelming you. But just at the brink of coming undone for the second time tonight he abruptly pulled out.

"You've got to be jok-"

He lightly slapped your thigh. "Ass up."

He didn't have to tell you twice as you quickly flipped over, face buried in the pillows, back arched with your ass in the air. The cool air on your now very exposed pussy sent a shiver down your spine.

Lando was enjoying the view as he lightly toyed with your clit earning a muffled moan from you. His hands gripped your waist to enter you once more when something in the corner of the room caught his eye. Gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail with one hand and the other under your stomach he pulled you up and back towards him until your back was flush against his chest, practically sitting in his lap. His still very prominent erection rubbing between your folds. As he positioned the both of you to face the corner of the room that's when you saw it.

Your reflection staring back at you. The horny little shit wanted to fuck you in front of the mirror. You couldn't lie the thought of it was hot. So, you took the initiative, as you raised your hips you took his cock in your hand, lining him up with your entrance.

The both of you watching in the mirror as you sank down onto him. The image right up there with Lando eating you out as one of the hottest things you'd seen. A string of curse words was heard from Lando and all you could do was grip his legs as you felt him buck up inside you.

As you rolled your hips you couldn't tear your eyes away from the mirror and neither could Lando. The new position allowing for him to feel even deeper inside you, if that was possible. One of his hands reached around and started to rub your clit, the added pleasure causing your eyes to flutter shut.

"Nope. Open your eyes pretty girl. I want you to watch."

When you didn't open them he told you again, but when you didn't open them the third time, his other hand was now suddenly wrapped around your throat. His large hand easily covering the front of your throat. The slight pressure he applied to the sides of your throat caused your eyes to fly open, but combine that with you riding his cock and his other hand still working on your clit you were once again on the brink of an orgasm. The sight of you in the mirror was nothing less than pornogrpahic and if Lando could, he would have taken a picture.

The feeling though was gone again, in a matter of seconds. He had basically thrown you off his cock, then pulled you off the bed, the both of you now directly in front of the mirror. You were impressed with Lando's stamina and you knew from him practically edging you (and himself) twice now, when he finally did let you come it was going to be mind blowing.

He had you bent over, hands gripping the sides of the mirror, as he spread your legs. This time there was no teasing your clit, he wasted no time, his cock slamming into you as soon as your legs were spread. His thrusts were relentless, you weren't sure if you would even be able to walk tomorrow. But from the way his fingers were gripping your waist you for sure knew there would be bruises there tomorrow. Your moans only encouraging him more as he slapped your ass, the sting only adding to your pleasure.

"God, look at you. Taking my cock like that. Who else can fuck you like this huh? Make you an absolute mess?"

You were too fucked out to respond, your legs feeling weak as you watched him in the mirror. Lando's hand reached around towards you neck, finding its previous home from moments ago. "I said who else can fuck you like this?" He gave your throat a light squeeze.

"No one. Only you." You finally mustered up, brain too consumed by pleasure to actually form a sentence.

You watched as the smirk formed on his face at your words. "There's my good girl." Your pussy fluttering at the pet name, which in turn earned a 'fuck' from Lando.

His other hand reached down to your clit, once again giving it some attention. As your orgasm approached you prayed this would be the time he finally would let you come. Your whimpers a telltale sign to Lando you were ready. "Gonna be a good girl and come for me? Come on baby. Let everyone know who's making you feel this good. Want everyone to know your mine."

With his words of praise your orgasm washed over you, hard. The pleasure was so intense you couldn't even hold yourself up anymore. Your body convulsing as your ears started to ring. Lando's name echoing out of your mouth in a less than quiet volume. It didn't help that he was still fucking you through your orgasm, the overstimulation bringing you almost to tears at how good it felt. Lando came seconds later, hot sticky cum filling you up. Profanties mixed with your name bounced around the room as he milked every ounce out of his orgasm.

As he pulled out a whimper came from you at the sudden empty feeling, while a groan came from him at the sight of his cum leaking out of you.

Lando basically carried you back to the bed, afraid your legs would give out if you tried to walk. His arms immediately wrapping around you as you rested your head on his chest. "Think I accomplished your request didn't I?" Lando asked with a smirk on his face. His fingers rubbing gently circles on your back.

"You did more than accomplish it Norris. I think everyone in the hotel knows that." A blush creeping onto your cheeks at the fact that you were not so quiet moments ago.

"Poor Oscar." Lando laughed. Oh god, you had forgotten Oscar's room was right next to yours. "Actually don't worry about it. He should be happy we are finally together."

Raising your head to look at him you gave him a questioning look. "Together? I never remember getting asked anything. Only being told I could only fuck you."

Lando rolled his eyes at your dramatics. "Yes and that statement still stands." His free hand cupped your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. He hadn't planned for tonight to go the way it did, but as he laid here in bed with you in his arms he wouldn't have it any other way. He wanted this all the time. "In all seriousness. I do want you to be mine. My girlfriend."

You would have never thought you'd be in this position. It had been a tough couple months for the two of you and just hours ago you were ready to erase him from your life as best as your could. But you still loved him, even more now if that was possible.

"Well it's a good thing I want you to be mine too huh?" His eyes lit up at your words, smiling for ear to ear. His lips were on yours in an instant, something you don't think you'll ever get used to. "Even though you were an asshole." You said as you pulled away.

Lando let out a sigh. "Well I guess I'm still gonna have to show you how sorry I am aren't I?" His cheeky expression not matching his tone of voice.

"I think so." You stated as your lips met once again.

An ignored text alert sounded off from the bedside table of the two lovers. It wouldn't be read until morning, laughter coming from Lando as your cheeks turned red.

Oscar: well I'm glad I'm not in the middle of whatever the hell that friends to crushes to miserable fucks to enemies shit you two had going on anymore. but please for the love of god remind me to never take the room by either of you again!!!!!!

[merakidoll]

soo … all i can say is im ovulating 🤗 this is a part for my best friends mom series

“mmm rub her faster mama” connie stood above you, his sock covered feet sinking into the mattress as the camera flashed repeatedly above you. your ring finger shined against the flashing light of him photographing how you fingered yourself. “one more finger you can do it. you take more with my dick baby” being much older than connie you thought the relationship would have challenge, tribulations. but really the only tribulation was you hiding him from your son.

“yea, pretty ass pussy with a big ass ring” connie zoomed more into your wet cunt that was leaking all over the covers. he took a pictures just as jucices dripped from your clenched hole to your ass. “c-connie” you whined bucking into you hand, connie slowly getting on his knees. he paused his photoshoot to place a gentle kiss on your puffy clit, a smirk on his face that let you get a glimpse of his shining grills. “what ma’ma?” your eyes rolled to the back of your head when your fingers touched a spacific spot. connie immediately putting the camera back up and dropping a large wad of spit directly on your hole making your legs shake.

“m-moveee!” you tried kicking him with your foot, connie laughing at you and grabbing ahold of the body part, turning the camera on video mode and towards himself. “my baby such a slut” he looked into the camera smiling, still using his other hand to hold you foot. “mm” he said to himself looking at your pretty white toes, his mouth moving before he could think. tounge swrirling against your big toe making sure the camera caught how he groaned against your feet - saliva dripping everywhere, while you cried- pussy pulsing in the background.

connie tuned the camera back towards you, a evil laugh fall from him as he let your foot go, and let the camera get the view of your pussy and face. pretty brown tits laying on your chest the went up and down quickly. “you finna cum baby?” connie knew you were, already seeing the thick cream gushing out of you, just when you stomach began to bubble, connie moved two of his fingers to rub your clit while the three in your hole worked faster.

“c-connieeeoooo s-stop! g-gottaaaa-” you couldn’t even let him know what was happening before squirt started shooting out of you. connie’s obnoxious laugh was in the video- him angling the camera to capture how he got his face closer and opened his mouth drinking up everything you had to offer. in the shoot, connie’s hand shook as he pulled out his own tan dick that was red. he began pumping himself for the camera. your cunt finally done and leaving you a twitching mess. “yea, fuck- love this pussy!” he let go of his cock to slap your pussy making a small wet sound erupt in the room setting him off.

“l-love my fuckin wifeee” his threw his head back camera falling on the bed, as his cum painted your pussy, the camera only getting the sexy sound that came from you both.

[violenteconomics]

as a prank, ace and epel start referring to their upperclassmen as members of their family rather than by name — when they're not actually talking to their upperclassmen, of course — just to see how long it will take them to notice. and after a while, the other freshmen start doing it, too.

ace is the first one to come up with this idea. he think it's a harmless little thing, a prank that'll cause plenty of mayhem but won't get him in any serious trouble. so he starts referring to cater and trey as his dad and mom respectively, and riddle as his uptight, no-nonsense older brother.

("one time i saw my brother try to put one of mom's tart into like a ziplock bag to save it for later, and when he took it out like two days afterwards, it fell apart immediately and he started bawling, ha ha! my dad got the whole thing on camera and shared it with me — i can show you if you want.")

he ropes epel in on the plan. epel is a little more hesitant, but seeing this as a way to get back at vil, even in a small way, he agrees to it. vil is now "ma" and rook is now "pa". people do start to wonder why he still uses he/him pronouns to refer to his supposed mother, but they decide not to question it too much.

("a few months ago, my pa told me a story about how one time my ma was trying to comb his hair, only for his comb to get stuck. so he got another comb to get the first one out, and that ended up getting stuck, too. five combs later, and peepaw had to rush him to the barber for an emergency haircut. it was pretty funny, but now i'm left wondering how pa even knew that story... hold on, i need to check my bathroom mirror for cameras, excuse me.")

surprisingly, deuce catches on pretty quickly, and he starts thinking maybe it's a new dorm policy. he doesn't know why, or why nobody else seems to be doing it, but ace seems pretty sure of himself, so he starts doing it, too, if a bit awkwardly.

("my brother always gets on my case for my bad grades. it's a little frustrating, but he only does it because he cares. my dad tutors me whenever he can, but he's not very good at studying, either. but whenever i do get good grades on my report card, my mom makes me egg tarts!")

yuu starts after they ask ace about it, and thinking it's a good prank, they decide to join in on a little mischief. so they start referring to all the teachers as their "dad". it makes people really confused, because they assume they only have one dad, two at most, but "dad" seems to change personalities every single time they talk about him.

("i was helping my dad do paperwork the other day, except we didn't get anything done and spent the entire evening playing solitaire and making dog puns."

"i was filling my dad's basketballs for him for his next game, whilst simultaneously helping him rework his pick-up lines that he's going to use on rsa's 'hot librarian' — his words, not mine. it was... a weird experience."

"i was feeding my dad's cat a couple of days ago, but i guess i fed him too much, because he's just a ball with limbs now. it's fine, though — it's not like my dad actually goes anywhere. too old for that, y'know?")

ortho is up next. idia's already ortho's brother, so he can't really do anything with that, but he really wants in on the average teenage experience of pranking your peers. so he starts referring to literally every upperclassmen he knows as his "brother". this is when everyone starts to realize that something's wrong, because some of things ortho says can not apply to idia in any reality.

("my brother is so talented! he's so good at talking to people, and making them sign contracts with him, and convincing them to invest in his restaurant... gosh, i wish i could be as good at communicating as him!")

jack is, unsurprisingly, very unamused when he figures out what the others are doing, but he doesn't try to stop them. but after a few weeks of exposure, and jack starts unconsciously doing it, too, which the others don't point out to him because they think it's absolutely hilarious.

("my brother didn't show up to morning practice, again, so my other brother and i went lookin' for him, and we ended up findin' him in a tree. obviously, my brother and i can't climb as well as my eldest bro can, so my brother just... threw a spelldrive disk at him. to get him out of the tree. and then we had to rush him to the infirmary because now he had a concussion. i don't... i don't know why he thought that would work.")

sebek is the last hold-over. not only is he unamused by this prank — and frankly very aghast when he realizes that jack has also been infected by it — but he's also really repressed and will do literally whatever it takes to not sully his image in the eyes of diasomnia. of course, with enough wear and tear, this doesn't last very long.

("ugh. my brother fell asleep on the road AGAIN! i swear, so many people have tripped over him, i'll be surprised if he hasn't broken any ribs yet.")

ace and epel think all of this is extremely funny, so they all keep trucking along with it with nobody noticing for a couple of weeks. it's all fine and dandy until the first-years are out on the town during the weekend, and deuce gets involved in a really bad carriage crash.

at the hospital, deuce starts deliriously asking for his older brother to take him home. but when the receptionist checks his familial records, they're really confused because deuce never even had a brother.

unfortunately, ace knows exactly who deuce is talking about, and awkwardly spends the next 30 minutes trying to get a hold of riddle over the phone.

the awkwardness doesn't end as riddle actually gets to the hospital, and the doctor smiles and says, "you must be mr spade's big brother."

[evansbby]

you get a request from a mysterious viewer for a private chat…

❃▹or ❃▹

sugar daddy ari meets cute camgirl!reader and she doesn’t know how to act around him.

{18+, dd/lg overtones, daddy kink,minors dni}

A. Levinson has requested a private chat.

The message pops up on your screen the moment you’re about to shut your laptop and call it a night. It’s already past midnight and you’ve just ended a particularly wild livestream. Tonight, you’d done the whole innocent girl act that your subscribers loved so much. You’d asked them to suggest on the live chat all the different ways you could touch yourself. As expected, it had gone over a treat, and you’d done your highest numbers yet thanks to your loving fans.

Speaking of which, your laptop beeps again with another notification:

A. Levinson donated $500.

You recognise the name immediately. Of course, you have no clue what he looks like or who he is. But he’s a new regular on your livestreams. Thousands of people watch you but you recognise the names of those who donate frequently. A. Levinson is one of those people – and his donations are hefty, too. Oh, should you accept? You didn’t really do private chats…

The buzz of another notification snaps you out of your thoughts. Another five hundred dollars. And this time, there’s a message attached.

A. Levinson: I really enjoyed your show tonight. Could I possibly take up your time for just a little bit longer? You can name your price.

Well… he didn’t sound creepy. He was most likely an older gentleman, probably lonely with a bunch of wealth and nobody to spend it on – aka, your favourite type of customer. You hover over his name quickly – no profile picture, forty-two years old (practically double your age!), new profile. Yep, it all checked out. You’d been planning on calling it an early night tonight but perhaps you could stretch it out a little longer and give this lonely old soul a bit of an extra show… For the extra cash, of course.

You fix your hair and adjust the lingerie you’ve still got on. You hadn’t stripped nude on tonight’s livestream, and most of your viewers had been too enraptured watching you make yourself cum over and over again to really even notice. Plus, you always chose the best lingerie to wear for your cam-shows. Tonight, you had on a pretty lacy set in the softest, cutest shade of baby pink, with creamy white ribbons and detailing completing the look along with your signature pink pumps. This A. Levinson guy would be in for a treat and a half. You quickly accept his request for a private chat, easily slipping back into the character you play in your shows.

“Hello there,” you feign shyness and smile into the camera how you always do. “What’s your name?”

“Ari,” the stranger responds, his voice sounding like liquid chocolate pouring straight out of your laptop. Damn. He didn’t have his camera on but that was unsurprising – most of your fans were very shy. “I have to admit, I didn’t know if you’d accept my private chat request.”

“Well, how could I not?” You adjust the straps of your bra slowly, “I love my fans, you know.”

He chuckles, “And they sure do love you.” A pause. “You looked breathtaking tonight.”

You’re used to compliments from your fans. Comments ranging from: “you’re gorgeous” to fuck ur so hot xx” to “I wish my girlfriend looked like you” to “you made me cum so hard in my pants baby.” But the way this Ari guy says it… the way he says the word “breathtaking” – all soft, and slow and melodious and confident. Instantly, your heart thrums, leaving you feeling a tad embarrassed.

“Oh… why thank you! That’s super sweet of you to say.” You recover quickly, slipping back into your “innocent girl” character as you smile softly and avert your gaze and do that thing where you rub your arm and pretend to be all shy. It goes over great with all your other fans.

But this fan only chuckles, “You can call me Ari for now, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart?!?

You clear your throat, “Were you feeling lonely tonight, Ari?”

“You could say that. I try to tune in to your show whenever I have the time. You were beautiful tonight, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so sweet.” Oh, there was that liquid chocolate voice again – all velvety and smooth and deep! You vaguely wonder what he looks like…

“Thank you, Ari. What was your favourite part?”

And okay, so maybe you’re being a bit boring right now. Usually, on the rare occasion you did agree to a private chat, you’d be a lot more flirtatious. But this man’s voice was almost putting you in a trance, making you have to think your next words so you don’t stumble over them. Gosh, none of your other fans sounded like he did! All calm and self-assured, and…

“I really enjoyed the part when you were using your fingers. You had that lost look in your eye, as though you were on another planet. I thought it was really cute.”

You giggle, shuffling closer to your webcam so he has a good view of your cleavage. The ring-light behind your camera casts a flattering, bright hue over your body, accentuating the way your breasts spill out of your bra and bounce slightly as you move closer. You think you hear a rumble escape his throat, but you can’t be too sure. Either way, you lean into the camera, “You like it when I touch myself?”

“Honey, I don’t think there’s a man in this world who wouldn’t like that.”

Another spark flutters down your spine, and you wonder why his words are making you react like this. You’ve been on the receiving end of a bunch of different compliments from your fans day after day. So… why now? Why tonight? Why him? Why was it different now?

The buzz of your laptop knocks you out of your reverie.

A. Levinson donated $600.

“Do you think you could touch yourself for me again?” He asks, his voice all velvety smooth yet rugged at the same time. And it’s a request that he doesn’t even bother to veil as a question, and for some reason, you feel a jolt down there at his expectant tone. “I would really love to see that pretty look on your face again.”

You giggle nervously before remembering to put on your innocent girl act for the camera. “Touch myself? I dunno… It’s getting kind of late, sir.”

A. Levinson donated $800.

“I told you, please call me Ari for now.”

You don’t know whether you clench from the sheer amount of money he seems to be throwing at you as if it’s nothing, or the delicious hint of authority in his tone. None of your fans were like that – they all acted like you were very much the one on charge, the one with all the power, the one who could log out and end the chat and leave them hanging at any moment. Which you could – so then why was Ari acting like he was the one who held all the power?

And why did you not hate it at all?

Slowly, you slip your hand down your body, making sure to look demure and seductive in front of the camera.

“Play with your lingerie,” he commands, “Play with those cute little white ribbons.”

“Yeah, o-okay,” you breathe, inwardly wondering why the hell you’re not taking control of your own show like how you usually do. Why you’re so okay with letting him take the lead. Nevertheless, you twirl the ribbons of your panties around your fingers, stroking the satin softly as your core begins to pulse in need. But instead of going down to touch your pussy, you keep playing with your lingerie instead, imagining that your hands are not yours, but rather… someone else’s. Someone who’s rough, tough, masculine and rugged… And hell bent on teasing you.

“Use your other hand too,” Ari says, “Squeeze your pretty tits, baby girl. They look so pretty in that pink bra.”

“Th-Thank you, da–” You bite down on your tongue just in time, mortified that you almost let that word slip out. And you think you hear a smirk on the other end of the call, but you’re too preoccupied with listening to Ari to really pay any heed. With one hand still playing with your panties, you squeeze your breast with your other. Your nipple feels hard against your palm, and your eyes momentarily flutter shut as you knead your soft flesh at his orders.

“That’s so good, pretty girl. You look so pretty and cute like that.” Ari compliments. “In fact, your choice of lingerie is one of my favourite parts of your shows. You’re always wearing something cute and girly. It’s very charming, sweetheart.”

Oh, how was he being so calm right now? Usually, your fans got themselves worked up within the first few minutes of your private chats. It didn’t take much to get them to blow their loads and their money too, and the chat would be over in about five minutes. But right now? Right now, it seems you’re the one who’s getting worked up. Quickly, you clear your throat.

“Thanks. This set is one of my favourites.”

“Is that so? Well, you have to promise me you’ll buy yourself a few more sets as adorable as this one.” Ari responds, “Cute and pink and pretty, just like a princess. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you agree, cringing at how dumb you sound. He seems unperturbed, however, and you soon grow preoccupied with touching yourself again. Squeezing your other breast while you make direct eye contact with your camera.

“Good girl. Why don’t you touch your little pussy now? I’m sure she’s starting to feel a bit neglected.” He chuckles, and you marvel at how in control he sounds, how easily the words slip past his tongue. “After all, she’s the star of the show, isn’t she?”

“She is,” you agree softly, blinking at the camera, “She’s very wet.”

“Mm, I’m sure she is, baby girl. Push your panties aside and spread your legs so her daddy can take a look at her.”

You gasp when you hear him refer to himself as that, but he seems so damned unperturbed that you feel you have to act the same. Oh gosh, when had this all taken such a turn? Never before had you taken orders from a fan in a private chat, but it’s like he’s somehow programmed you to listen to him through that velvety voice of his.

You spread your legs like how you’d do on a regular livestream, angling the webcam to get the perfect shot. Your panties are soaked when you push them aside, and you bite your lip as you use two of your fingers to spread your folds. They glisten under the lighting, your wetness trailing down your thighs and staining the rug under you.

“Such a good girl,” Ari rewards you with a compliment. “Such a good little girl with a cute little baby pussy. You should be so proud, princess.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now, do you want daddy to turn his camera on? And don’t worry, it’s alright if you’re too shy and you don’t want me to. You’re just a little girl after all, and I wouldn’t want to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Your heart lurches. Ari? Turn his camera on? Oh, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit curious to see what he looked like! To see the face that matched that insanely chocolatey voice… A nervous thrill ripples through you, but you try your hardest to remain cool.

“Y-Yes,” you manage to get out, hating how you stutter. You never stutter on your own livestreams and chats. Never. You clear your throat, “Yes. Yes, you can turn your camera on.”

A moment later you find yourself staring at a set of deep blue eyes. You blink several times. Now, you see a handsome face. A very handsome face. Bronzed skin, a thick beard. Striking eyes, high cheekbones. A gorgeous, sloped nose. Long brown hair that brushes over his eyes before he pushes it back and out of his face. Oh, he was hot! And fully dressed, too. In an expensive-looking suit with his tie loosened around his neck.

“Oh… wow, Ari… I–” You’re at a loss for words, but thankfully Ari takes the reins.

“Keep touching yourself, sweetheart. Yeah, just like that.” He licks his lips, long lashes fluttering across his cheekbones as he blinks, “And call me daddy, baby. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, daddy, that’s fine.”

“I thought so. Now, why don’t you tell daddy your favourite way of keeping your baby pussy happy.” He murmurs softly, slowly, hypnotically.

You watch as his own hand slips down, and it thrills you to think of what he’s doing, what his camera isn’t showing. Oh, none of your other fans were as handsome as him! Or as put together or as in control! No, Ari’s energy is completely different. So softly dominant that it sends chills up and down your spine as you clamber to obey him.

Suddenly, you remember he’d asked a question.

“My stuffie, I guess.” You answer hypnotically, staring into his blue eyes that look to be so deep, so soulful. Like he was a man who’d seen everyone and everything this world had to offer. A man who’d lived an entire lifetime, a man who was, well, a man in the purest sense of the word. So virile, so mature – someone you could look up to, follow, listen to.

“Your stuffie.” Ari repeats, savouring the word on his tongue, “You stuffie keeps your pussy happy, huh? I think I remember watching one of your livestreams where you did something like that. But I’d like you to show me again, baby. Will you do that for me?”

Luckily, your stuffed teddy bear is only a foot away from you, and you quickly grab it. And it was true, sometimes you’d ride your stuffies during your livestreams. Your fans loved to watch you writhe and moan and lose yourself in the moment, watch you go from cuddling your stuffed toys to humping them and making yourself cum. Clearly, Ari had been a fan of this routine too.

You get into position, placing your teddy bear between your legs, watching how its fur goes damp as soon as it makes contact with your soaking pussy. Biting your lip, you waste no time as you start rocking back and forth tentatively. Ari lets out a rumble of approval, and you see his arm flex as he leans forward.

“That’s so good, baby girl. You like using your little friend to make you feel good?”

“Y-Yeah, it’s one of my most viewed livestreams.”

He smirks, “But you’ll put on a better show for me right now, won’t you?”

“Yeah, daddy…”

Your breathing slowly goes shallow, mind clear of any thoughts except how sexy and manly Ari sounded on this call right now. And it feels so delicious already, your teddy’s fur catching on your throbbing clit, incensing you to grind down harder.

“You have a wishlist, babygirl?”

The question is posed so casually that it somehow almost winds you. Your hips slow down and you look up at your webcam. But Ari narrows his eyes, nodding his head as if commanding you to continue, which you do. God, it was so hot how nonchalant he was being — and yet he sounded so attentive too!

“A wishlist?” You squeak, voice going high-pitched as your hips pick up pace, and you wish it was Ari’s thigh you were grinding on instead of this stuffie. Your body’s doing that thing where it feels empty, craving something bigger, more substantial…

“Yes, sweetie. A wishlist. A list of things you want. Clothes or makeup or anything like that.” He’s pumping his dick now, you can tell with how his hand’s moving. But the rest of him looks so unperturbed and unbothered, as if he’s having a normal conversation and not jacking off with a camgirl while he watches her masturbate with a stuffed teddy.

“I—um—yeah, I do…” you somehow manage to get the words out, but you’re mostly focused on cumming now. Your mind conjures up images of you naked on top of a fully dressed Ari. Him big and powerful, guiding your hips with just one hand, dragging you back and forth on his muscular thigh. Or maybe picking you up and placing you on his bulge, letting you rub your soaking cunt on it while he calls you a good girl in that deep, sexy voice of his…

“Sweetheart? You with me?”

“I, yeah, sorry!” You pant, feeling so close and yet a part of you knows you have to answer him. “I d-do — I have a list but—”

“You’re going to send it to daddy after you cum,” he tells you. “A pretty little girl like you needs her daddy to reward her after she humps her pretty little princess cunt and gets off so nicely just like how I asked you to.”

Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. And it’s his words that tip you over the edge. So dirty, yet he talks in such a sweet way! Oh, a man’s never spoken to you like that! So casually talked you through your orgasm, praising you so sweetly and telling you he’d buy you everything on your wish list?! Who was this man??

“Send it to me. Now.”

You’re weak and spent, legs shaking from cumming so hard. But you quickly send him your wish list on private chat. You doubted he’d buy everything on it — all the expensive jewellery, designer clothes, shoes — especially since he’d already showered you with so many cash donations. But you send it to him anyways, and he hums in approval.

“That’s such a good girl. I really enjoyed our chat, baby.”

Your heart sinks. Was this it?

“Why don’t you show daddy your pussy again, baby girl? I want to see how messy it is now.”

Again, you obey. Angling your webcam and opening your legs for him. A part of you imagines him doing it for you, gripping your soft thighs with his calloused, manly hands so he could inspect to his heart’s content. God, he just exuded dominant energy and it was making you lightheaded. Quickly, you spread your sopping folds with your fingers, letting him see everything.

“Fuck, you’re so messy, aren’t you?” Ari murmurs, and you watch him brush his long hair out of his face. His tanned skin glistens slightly, his lips pink and plump and you find yourself just staring at him in awe.

“I-I’m messy…” you repeat, feeling dumb and spaced out after your orgasm.

“Bet you need your daddy to clean up that baby pussy, don’t you?” He licks his lips, pumping himself faster. That’s when his camera lowers slightly, and your breath hitches at the sight of the angry red tip of his dick.

“I… I don’t know… I—”

He chuckles kind of breathlessly, “You’re all dumbed out, huh? That’s alright, sweet girl. Daddy understands.” Again, he runs a hand through his hair, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at you. “I understand that little girls like you get tired easily, especially after playing with your toy so naughtily like how you were just now. That’s why you need your daddy.”

“D-Daddy…” you whimper, incapable of saying anything else except repeating what he’s saying, but you’re able to press your thighs weakly together, as if his words are just too much and you need to get off again despite being so weak.

“You need me, don’t you? To hold you in my lap, clean you up, take care of you, think for you, buy you whatever you want. Lap at your little baby cunt till you cum in my mouth. Am I right?”

Ohfuck. You feel newfound thrill ripple down to your pussy, making you clench at his words.

“I… I don’t.. I just— daddy, I. —“

Ari chuckles breathlessly, and a lock of his hair falls over his forehead, but apart from that he still looks pristine. The complete opposite of fucked out, messy little you.

“You can’t even speak straight, can you, Princess? That’s alright, little girls like you aren’t meant to think or talk anyways. That’s your daddy’s job, that’s why I’m here. All you have to do is look cute and play with your little toy on my lap while daddy does all the thinking for you. Would you like that?”

“Yes!” You cry, feeling needy and vulnerable and still a little bit confused as to how this virtual stranger has reduced you to such a blubbering mess.

“Fuck. Say it, then. Tell me how badly you need me.”

“N-Need daddy,” you blubber, vaguely wondering what your viewers would think if they saw you now. Often, you acted all spaced out and whimpery in your livestreams. But this… oh, this wasn’t acting at all. Ari had well and truly reduced you to a whimpering mess — and you didn’t even know the guy!

“I know you need me,” he croons, “Little girls like you always need their daddy. And I want to take care of you too, sweet baby.”

“Please do!” You cry, “Need you to take care of me so bad! Can’t think, can’t… I can’t…”

You press your thighs together and cum again. And it’s a shock to you, you hadn’t expected to orgasm again so quickly. But you hear Ari groan, and a moment later you watch enraptured as he blows his load, spurts of his thick cum landing on his palm. And you wish so bad you were there in person to clean him up too.

“Both of you are quiet for a minute or so after that. All you can hear is his breathing - rapid at first before it goes steady. You, on the other hand, are beside yourself. Whimpering, crying, breathing hard. You just want him to hold you - and it’s crazy because you don’t even know who he is! Not really, anyways. But he looks so big and strong even on the laptop screen, and you really feel so small in front of his eyes, but in a good way… He had a way with words, so soft and dominant that it made you want him to take care of you, and-

"Thank you, baby girl,” Ari chuckles after a while, “thank you for indulging me.”

You clear your throat, “I…uh… I… okay.”

“You still dumbed out, honey?”

You lower your eyes and nod, feeling all kinds of shy now that you’ve cum twice and your senses are all coming back. Had you really gotten that submissive and vulnerable with a viewer on private chat? Oh gosh…

“Do you need daddy to tell you what to do next?”

You nod, embarrassed at how helpless you feel. Your legs are still shaking from the remnants of your orgasm, ears still buzzing from that smooth, gravelly voice of his as he’d coaxed you through those two orgasms.

“First, I want you to send me that wishlist of yours. Then, I want you to go and take a nice, hot bath to calm yourself down, alright?”

“O-Okay, daddy,” you agree quietly.

“Mm, that’s my good girl. Then, I want you to put on something comfy and tuck yourself into bed. I know little girls like you need your daddy to do that, but for now I need you to do it for yourself. Got that?”

You nod dumbly.

“Daddy needs you to use your words, sweet girl.”

“Yes, I - uh - I’ll take a bath and tuck myself in, daddy.”

“Good girl. But I’ll need you to take pictures as proof you’ve followed my instructions.”

“I will, I will!” You blurt out, wanting to make this virtual stranger proud. Oh, you didn’t even recognise yourself anymore but you didn’t care. Not in the least.

“Thank you, baby. And one last thing.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Would you like to talk to daddy again tomorrow night?”

“Yes! Please, yes!”

“I thought so. Why don’t you give me your number, sweetheart, and I’ll be sure to make that happen.”

THE END.

Honestly wrote this super quickly so it’s probably paced like shit and not that good but YOLO. also i tried something different with the layout heheehehe LMK WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THE FIC PLSSS LOVE YOU GUYS

[starkwlkr]

teenagers | hugh jackman

an: i love y’all thanks for supporting my delusions about a 55 year old man (are y’all tired of me posting hugh/logan fics yet?? lol)

Your seventeen year old daughter, Olivia, leaned her phone against the paper tower holder. You and Hugh were getting breakfast ready while Olivia did god knows what. You would see her film tiktoks and take selfies for her instagram often so you assumed she was doing that. You were proven right when music started playing from her phone.

“I think the apple’s rotten right to the core. . . “

You watched as Olivia danced to the song. You weren’t even sure what the dance was, but you found it fun. Hugh just stood there completely confused.

Olivia finished the dance the turned her phone to record yours and Hugh’s reaction. She obviously posted it to tiktok where marvel fans found it funny that you and Hugh didn’t know what was going on.

oliviaaajckmn: 1 million dollars and I’ll make mum and dad do the apple dance in their costumes

wandasmagic wolverine is so brat coded

peter3stan PLS MAKE THEM DO THE DANCE

gwenpool “thank you olivia jackman” we all say in unison

buckysarm MAKE THEM DO THE DANCE AND MY LIFE IS YOURS

Hugh was a family man, it was no secret. Something he always loved doing was bringing his kids to work. Your two boys practically grew up on the x-men and avengers set. When Olivia was on set, Hugh was basically her assistant.

“Dad, I want a smoothie!”

“Dad! You’re not holding the umbrella right!”

But that was baby Olivia. Teenage Olivia spent most of her time in Hugh’s trailer or annoying her father while he rested in his trailer.

“Liv, go annoy Ryan or Shawn. Let me take a quick nap.” Hugh mumbled. He was still in his wolverine costume using a jacket as a blanket.

“I just want to know why Thor was crying? And don’t say who’s Thor! I saw the footage old man!”

“Oh my god! Is that Loki?”

No, the god of mischief wasn’t on set of the new avengers movie. Olivia had named her puppy after her favorite marvel character. The internet found it funny that wolverine or your character wasn’t the favorite.

Olivia was currently paying you a visit on the new avengers movie. To her, it did feel weird seeing you behind the camera instead of in front, but at least you were still part of the new marvel phase.

Pedro Pascal, the new Mr. Fantastic, asked for permission to pet the miniature dachshund. Olivia nodded and smiled when Loki the dog immediately took a liking to the older man.

“This is so beautiful I think I might cry.” Olivia fake sobbed as Loki started exploring the avengers set, he almost tripped over several wires, but Olivia saved the pup from getting tangled. It reminded her of all the times she almost tripped on the camera wires when she was younger.

“Hey, mother,” Olivia greeted you with a kiss on the cheek. She wasn’t the only one giving you a kiss, Loki had jumped into yours arms ready to give you kisses. “Loki missed you too.”

“Only Loki?” You teased. “Or are you just here to get a picture with Pedro?”

“You know me so well, mom.”

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

...ready for it? - j.l. howlett

a/n: hi! here's a full version of a blurb i wrote a few days ago that got so much love so quick that i wanted to give yall a full version! the beginning is literally just the blurb but after that it's all new! like many of you wolverine brainrot has hit me hard, so here's graphic smut about him. leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed :) warnings: SMUT!!!!! some dumbification, use of pet names, reader is fem, reader is a mutant and able to control plants, lots of cursing, lots of grotesque fliritng/fantasies, some soft moments, some sort of primal sex, oral (fem receiving), some of the setting is probs inaccurate but whatever. let me know if i missed any big ones!! word count: 4.9 k summary: well, you had to find some way of entertaining yourself at charles xavier's school for gifted youngsters. and you have always liked an emotionally unavailable, absolutely hung, challenge. pairing: logan howlett x mutant!reader now playing: ...ready for it? - taylor swift "in the middle of the night, in my dreams/you should see the things we do, baby/in the middle of the night in my dreams/i know i'm gonna be with you, so i take my time"

You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!

Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.

But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)

And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.

So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.

You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.

You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.

“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!

“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.

And let’s make something very clear—

Logan Howlett does not sit.

This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.

Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.

“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.

He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.

“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.

And you just sort of look at him before asking,

“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.

“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”

You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.

“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!

“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.

When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.

“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”

“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.

You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue?’

And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.

“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.

“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.

The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.

“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”

“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.

And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.

“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!

“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.

But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

“Aw, I’ll make it up to you.” He smirked. “Promise, spitfire.”

He’s very close to you now, so you take a second to just breath and you know that he knows that he’s got you—hook, line, and sweet, sweet sinker.

And then you realize what exactly it is that you’ve gotten yourself into. And what a nightmare it is—Or maybe a dream if you listen to the pathetic part of your brain, but you are into this an in a way that is concerning for your own mental wellbeing and desperately want to avoid him having all the power in this situation.

“Oh, I am sure you will.” You assure. You lean forward, plucking the cigar from his lips, and placing it on the ground, squashing it beneath your heel. With a flick of your wrist, vines and grass grow over the cigar, composting it. And from the vines, grows a small little buttercup flower.

You lean down and pluck the flower from the grass, before tucking it behind Logan’s ear.

“You should take care of that hard-on you have, Claws.” You hum, before standing up, and walking away. And for a minute, he just watches you go—partly to because you have an amazing ass, but partly because you have absolutely flabbergasted him.

And have made him want you even more.

• • •

The next time you see him is the next night, in the woods near the mansion. Because the literal sixteen year olds you go to ‘school’ with do not know how to do anything on the weekend except drink, fuck, and smoke.

Honestly, you kind of fit in great.

So here you are, nursing a mason jar of.. some fucked up concoction, and you’re not too sure what’s in it, but you have drunk two of them and are on your third. You think you might live forever, until you glance up and see Logan, in these fuck me jeans and this burnt orange flannel and a wife beater.

Instantly, you know that you’ll die tonight if you don’t have him.

He approaches you with this cocky smirk as if he hasn’t realized your intoxicated state yet.

“Now what’s a little spitfire like you doing all alone on a Friday night?” he questions, tilting his head. His smirk is deadly. And you roll your eyes.

“Here comes the big bad Wolverine, all bark and no bite.” You scoff, and his eyes flash with surprise. Only for a second, but even drunk, you notice the way his eyes shoot up in surprise.

“All bark and no bite? That’s quite the accusation.” He hums.

“Well, we’ve been.. eye fucking each other for a few weeks now, and you haven’t even kissed me yet. I get being into foreplay and edging, but holy shit, Claws, throw a girl a bone once in a while.” You scoff, and for a moment, he just looks at you.

“Are you.. drunk?”

“Do you think I’m drunk?”

“Yeah, you’re drunk.” He sighs. You respond by taking another sip of your drink, but before the bitter liquor hits your tongue, he snatches the bottle from you.

“Let me take you home.” You’re sure your eyes look like hearts, so, dreamily and a little love struck, you respond,

“’Kay.”

And he chuckles a little bit at that.

“We’re not gonna do anything, I’m just gonna walk you home, spitfire.” He starts, and your face falls a little bit, but in an effort to hide it, you respond,

“..’kay.” And he sees right through you. You’re pretty much an open book. And the alcohol doesn’t help. His pointer finger and thumb comes to your chin, and he gently rubs his thumb against your lip.

“Don’t be like that, pup. It’ll happen soon. Just not tonight, okay?” He assures.

“’Kay.” You answer softly, and you think he smiles at you but your vision is sort of blurry. Then, you blink, as a gust of wind moves through the trees, sending a shiver down your spine. He sighs, and wordlessly takes off his flannel, before wrapping it around you. Your arms slip into the sleeves, and you almost cry because it’s like, the best hug in the entire world. “Won’t.. you be cold, then?” you question, and he just shakes his head.

“Let’s get you home, spitfire.” He holds a handout to you, and without a second thought, you take his hand. He wraps his arm around you, and you lean against him like it’s something the two of you do often. If you were sober, you might short circuit. But, you’re not, so it feels right.

The walk home is quiet, but Logan’s thumb gently rubs against your shoulder. He wants to do more, but he knows he shouldn’t, since you are in fact plastered.

You ignore the giggles and whispers from teenagers making their way past you to the party or to their rooms, and you even ignore the way their giggles stop when they meet Logan’s gaze.

When you get back to your room, you take a second to lean against the door, and he takes a second to admire the way you look in his clothes.

“Ready for bed?” he asks gently, and you just smile at him.

“You’re really pretty.” He just does the half scoff-half chuckle that you’re obsessed with. Then, he wraps his arm around you again, opening the door to your room, and guiding you inside. He gets you to your bed and sits you down, before kneeling in front of you to untie your boots. “Has anyone ever told you how good you look on your knees?” you ask.

He just gives you this smirk.

“One or two pretty girls back in the day.” He says, “None as pretty as you though, spitfire.” He says, and you groan, leaning back and laying on the bed, as he pulls off your boots.

“You’re awful.” And you need him.

“Yes, I know, baby.” His voice is almost condescending, and it turns you on. But then he stands up, grabbing the folded blanket from the edge of your bed, and laying it over you. He finds his place kneeling next to you again as you stare at him, cozy in bed. His hands gently brush hair from your face. “Do you need anything else?”

“You.”

“Soon. But not yet, pup. You’re too drunk.” He says softly.

“Thanks for walking me home, Claws.”

“You’re very welcome, Spitfire.” He purrs, leaning forward and kissing your forehead gently. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Logan.” You mumble as you drift off to sleep. He sits there for a few minutes, just looking at you for a long time before he gets up and creeps out of your room.

• • •

The next morning, you sit in the cafeteria, drinking a large coffee, and nursing the worst hangover, possibly of your life. Made even worse by the fractions of memories about what happened last night.

You rub your eyes, flinching when you hear the clatter of a plate on the table, and someone sitting across from you. You peek through the gaps of your fingers to see Logan sitting across from you, a smirk on his face.

He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

“I hate you. Shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” he laughs. But he sees how much pain you’re in, and slides two pieces of sourdough toast to you. “Truce?”

“Truce.” You agree, taking a slice and biting into it. You feel better.

And after a moment of silence, he asks,

“I’m never getting my flannel back, am I?”

Truthfully, the flannel has been folded neatly and tucked into your drawer, for the next time you need some comfort.

You tilt your head, looking right into his eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

• • •

Weeks go by like this.

You spend your days either going to class or hanging out—okay, it’s more like flirting with a side of hanging out, with Logan. The pair of you become quite close, and maybe that’s why you haven’t fucked yet.

Oh, the two of you want to, and it’s obvious to everyone (Charles has called you out for being distracted more times than you can count, and you remind him not to probe your mind, and he tells you he does not need his mutant abilities to see that your thoughts linger elsewhere.) but you’re.. afraid, at this point.

Which is odd, because you’re no virgin, you know he wants you, but.. what if everything changes after that? Maybe he’ll start to avoid you. Maybe you’ll start to avoid him. And you’ve really become good friends, and don’t want to lose it.

And then, there’s the fact that half the time, he’s away on dangerous missions, and even if he can regenerate, you worry about him. But he hasn’t been on any lately, so it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You’re sitting in the garden when it happens.

He finds you, and this time, you do not even try to hide the way your head picks up and gazes at him.

“Hi, Spitfire.” He grins, and you smile a bit at him.

“Claws, what can I do for you?” And he sits next to you, and for some reason, maybe because he doesn’t say anything at first, you know that there is something wrong. And you know what it is.

After a few minutes, you glance to him.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Your voice is quiet, as if you’re scared that if it gets any louder, everything will fall apart.

“Yeah. Charles has me going on another mission.” He doesn’t say it, but you both know this isn’t an involuntary thing.

“Cool.” You cringe at your reaction.

“I guess.” He laughs weakly, as if he knows he’s twisting a knife buried within you.

Silence fills the air. It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but it isn’t the relaxed silence you’re used to with him. Confessions dance on the tips of your tongues, and you’re so close to saying it, that when you turn to each other suddenly, you just need to look at each other for a second.

“Be safe.” You say quietly. “And hurry back.” You request, and you try not to sound like you’re begging.

“Of course.” He says, like it perplexes him that you even have to request. “I can’t leave you here yearning for me forever, can I?” He teases, and for a moment, you have this flash of an alternate universe where he does die on this mission and you are trapped in this garden forever, waiting for him. Like a lost puppy, or worse, a lost lover. The mere thought of it fucks with your head.

“No. You can’t. I won’t allow it.” You explain, “If anything, I’m the one that should be haunting you.” He just smiles. A real, not at all awkward smile.

“I’m sure you will, spitfire.” He says, and his head comes forward so that his forehead is resting against yours.

“When do you leave?” You ask gently, and he sighs. His breath smells of mint and cigar smoke, maybe even a hint of lemon.

“An hour. I have to pack quick and then debrief.” He answers you.

And just as love struck as you were the night of the party, you answer,

“’Kay.” You smile weakly at him. And he just.. looks at you for a few minutes before sighing again. He pulls away and leans up to kiss your forehead again, before standing up. He turns a few steps away from you just to tease you.

“Don’t miss me too much, okay?” he requests softly. Before you can stop yourself, you stand up, and wrap your arms around him. He only pauses for a half a second before he returns your embrace, and it becomes apparent that you both needed this moment. You stay like this for a few minutes before you pull away.

“Bring me back a souvenir.” You try, a soft smile on your face.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll bring you something great from the great city of Tulsa, Ohklahoma.” He grins.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

• • •

For the next week, you feel like this must be what it was like for housewives when their husbands went to war. You knew all too well that that statement was extremely dramatic, but you simply cannot help yourself.

You think you might die by day three.

It’s like you’re going through withdrawals and it’s making you go genuinely insane.

You have worn this man’s flannel for almost the entire week, because at first you’re a little self-conscious of other people noticing your repeating outfits, but only at first. By day four, you have decided you don’t give a single fuck.

Day eight you’re just laying in bed, quietly making a list of all the positions you want him to take you in. It’s a long list. You’re brought back to reality by a knock on your door. You’re about to snap, knowing that you’ll tell whatever child has been sent to bother you to scram, but when you open the door, you grin widely.

Logan stands there, looking tired, but he’s smiling and holding up a shot glass that reads ‘Tusla’, and has skyline on it.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d get you a souvenir?” He asks, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, pulling him in. He hugs you back, making sure to squeeze you just a bit—your feet barely come off the ground.

He pulls away, and you grin up to him.

“You came back.” You say it as if you can barely believe it, and just for a moment, he feels an emotion he can’t quite place, but he ignores it.

“Of course I came back, spitfire. All in one piece too, as requested.” He grins, and you’re just.. amazed at the look of him. “What’s that look for?” He asks gently, tilting his head.

“I just..” you start.

And then you break.

You lean up and kiss him gently, those stupidly delicious sideburns making your stomach flip. He doesn’t waste time, kissing you back, his arms around your waist. After a minute, you pull away.

“Sorry. I’m kind of done playing that game of waiting for you to kiss me. I just got the first hit of you I’ve had all week, and I feel fucking amazing.” You confess, and sure, it’s not a big grand love confession with tears and poetry, but your words make him kiss you so intensely that you start backing into your room, his hands exploring your body as you tug off his leather jacket, a new flannel for you to steal coming off soon after.

He keeps kissing you as his hands come down to your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, before gently pushing you to sit on the bed. He kneels in front of you, and begins to tug off your boots again, then, on your jeans.

You grin.

“You know, I’m getting the oddest sense of déjà vu. Something about you looking great on your knees.” You tease, and he just tugs off your jeans in one strong swoop, before leaning in to bite your thigh. You gasp, your hands coming up to tug his hair.

Then, he begins to tug at your panties, and you tilt his head up, glancing at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, before I was interrupted, I was about to eat you out.”

“Wait, really?”

He blinks, confused.

“Yeah. Is that a, uh.. problem..?” He hasn’t gotten any complaints yet.

“I just.. I didn’t think guys actually did that, I thought it was just.. a porno thing.” And at this, the man who is about to burry his face between your thighs, laughs. And not just a chuckle, this man hollars. “What’s so funny, claws?” You ask, a little suspicious.

“Nothing,” he promises, “I am just going to take such good care of you, pup.”

“I’m holding you to that, claws.” And then, he leans in and begins to kiss your thighs, gently biting down here and there. Then, he licks a stripe along your cunt, and you let out this loud moan, and your hand comes up to clamp over your mouth, but he reaches up to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

He pulls away to lecture you. Lecture you. On his knees. Head between your thighs.

“Nuh-uh, I wanna hear all the pretty noises you can make for me.” Then, softer, he adds, “Never been eaten out before, fuckin’ travesty.” He mumbles, before leaning in to lick your cunt again, beginning to lap his tongue over your throbbing heat.

His nose rubs against your clit, and it’s enough to drive you genuinely crazy. You’re unsure how you’ve gotten to this point in your life without having your pussy worshipped like this, but with him around, you’re pretty sure you’ll never go another day without it.

His tongue continues to work magic on your cunt, as his nose presses against your clit, stimulating you to the point of making you see stars.

Your hands tug at his hair, and the moan that it elicits from him is enough to send vibrations through your cunt through your stomach. Your head leans back as you moan, and for a moment, you hope there is no mutant in this mansion with super hearing.

His free hand grips your thigh as he bends your leg back to get better access, as he continues to eat you out. The mere taste of you is enough to drive him crazy—He almost wants to start thrusting into the side of your bed, he’s so hard, but he ignores that urge to continue to eat you out.

“Mm—Lo, I—I’m gonna—”

He just hums into your cunt, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze of approval, before his tongue moves even faster (if that’s even possible, though, he is an amazingly surprising man), and suddenly—

You feel a release you have been waiting for weeks, and it is fucking phenomenal. And the Wolverine just licks up all your cum, even if it makes your thighs shake, but honestly, he doesn’t care and neither do you. For a moment, you just listen to the sound of your own pants.

After a minute, you are able to look at him, and he just looks up to you with the same smirk that has been torturing you for all of those weeks. And you just have to pull him up to kiss you, like it’s the only way you’ll be able to live.

As you kiss him, you pull off his wifebeater and then your hands rest on the sides of his face as he pulls off your shirt as well, before his hands begin to make quick work of his belt, wanting to skip all of the pleasantries and just fuck you.

But when he finally gets his jeans off, you pull away, and he stares at you like you’re crazy.

“What the fuck could possibly be more important than me fucking you stupid?”

“Will you just.. let me look at you?” You scoff, your eyes flickering over him to just memorize every square inch of his body. He humors you for a few minutes, standing there with his hands on hips before he leans in and cages you in with his arms.

“Show’s over, spitfire.” He purrs, leaning in to kiss you, slowly making his way closer to you so that you’re laying back on your bed. At some point during the kiss, his boxers come off, and when you feel his cock against your cunt, you moan into the kiss, and you can feel his smirk against your lips.

Oh, you could kill him. But, you suspect maybe he’ll get to you first.

After he kisses you for a few minutes, he pulls away to tell—not ask, tell you, “I’m going to fuck you now.” And you know your line.

“’Kay.” He grins at this and kisses you again, before lining himself up and starting slowly. He just has the tip inside of you, and you begin to moan, your grip on his shoulders tightening. You already feel entirely too full, and he slowly agonizingly slowly pushes into you, and he sees how his size makes your face twitch,

“Shh, shh, I know, pup. Deep breathes for me, bub,” he says softly, such a stark contract to his rough movements, as he bottoms out and has his entire cock inside of you. And he gives you a second, watching as your face relaces, adjusting to the size of him. “Okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“’Kay,” You assure, and he kisses your forehead.

“’Kay.” He responds, and before you can tease him for it, he begins to thrust into you, slowly as first, but he continues to quicken his pace. Your nails begin to scratch on his back, and he lets out this angelic moan—You must’ve died and went to heaven.

As his thrusts quicken, the lines quickly blur between quick ruts and an animalistic need, manifesting itself in the way he fucks you. You know you won’t last long, especially when his fingers find your clit and begin to rub it again.

“Fuck! Oh my god—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, his free hand coming to your thigh to lift your leg up, only for better access to your throbbing cunt, “God, I love the feeling of you around me.. Worth the wait, I promise.” He grumbles, as he thrusts into you, his only goal to make you cum.

You want to respond to that—To tease him, to make him feel as shy as you do, but he has completed his goal of fucking you stupid.

All you can do is respond, “Fuck—I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby, go ahead, cum for me,” he requests softly, leaning in to press a rather jarringly sweet kiss to your lips.

As you cum around his cock, he shudders, the look of you, laying there fucked dumb, is almost too much for him to bear.

“I’m gonna fill you up, pup,” he tells you, and all you can do is moan in response, which makes him come that much closer to the edge. After a few more thrusts, with a euphoric moan that will haunt you forever, his hot cum fills you up, leaving the pair of you clawing at each other, wanting more.

When you’re both finally finished riding out your high, Logan lays next to you, keeping you close. His grip on you is tight—possessive. When you finally find your voice, you ask,

“You’re not gonna turn me into a booty call, are you, claws?”

And he laughs.

“No,” he says, pressing a kiss to your head. “You’re gonna be my best girl, Spitfire.”

“Does this mean I get to steal another of your flannels?”

“I’ll give you my whole fucking wardrobe to see how many times I can make you cum.”

[deadsetobsessions]

“I can’t believe you’re squatting in an occupied house, Danny. That’s… actually isn’t that also breaking and entering? That’s a crime, isn’t it?”

“One, at least I don’t have to pay rent and/or utilities. Two, Tim let me stay. And three, I’m a vigilante. Breaking and entering is like the basics of being one. Also, they’re paying me now. This is a legit job now!”

Jazz sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Whatever, dumbass. Where is Tim, anyways?”

“He’s in bed.”

“Really?” Jazz raised an eyebrow and rested a hand on her hip. “Then what’s that?”

Danny whirled around, making eye contact with a frozen Tim.

“Ahah-”

Danny groaned, cutting Tim’s awkward laughter and no-doubt bullshit excuse.

“Kid, Tim, we talked about this.”

“It’s for the aesthetics!” Tim protested, the argument well worn, but obligingly stepping away from the window sill.

Danny shot Jazz a disgruntled look when she muttered, “Well, doesn’t that sound familiar.”

“It’s a school night, Tim.” Danny crossed the room, ushering Tim away from the door. The halfa could probably put down professional babysitter on his resume. If he could handle Tim “climb out of windows” Drake and Tim “sleeps in hard to reach places” Drake in the same day, he could handle anything.

Tim puffed up, like a disgruntled kitten. “Robin gets to go out on a school night! And he’s my age! Kinda! And at least I’m not fighting criminals!”

Again, this is an argument they’ve had multiple times.

“Not for a lack of trying,” Danny muttered, rolling his eyes when Jazz snickered. He made the mistake of looking down at Tim’s convincing little sad kitten act and sighed. “Alright, alright. We get two hours of batwatching, then you go to sleep.”

“Deal!” Tim cheered. Jazz grinned, mouthing ‘weak’ at Danny, who promptly made like his high school self and ignored her.

“Go get your jacket. And some thicker socks, you’re gonna freezing out there.”

“Okay!!”

When Tim was out of earshot, excitedly thundering down the lavish hallway, Jazz tilted her head back and laughed.

“Oh, shut up.”

“How the tables have tabled, huh, Danny?” Jazz snickered.

“You think you got jokes,” Danny pointed at her with a new mug of coffee. “Laugh it up, but don’t forget that you’re his older sister now too.”

Jazz paled. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Now you gotta deal with two of us!”

“Two of who?” Tim returned, bundled up in a fancy puffy jacket. Jazz cooed at him, kneeling down to zip his jacket up. Danny, echoing her, magically grabbed a scarf and wrapped around Tim.

“Us, her little brothers. Unfortunately, you’re now our little brother and that means Jazz is gonna mother you like you’re a baby duck.”

Danny ducked the half hearted smack Jazz sent his way, grinning at Tim. The kid had a self conscious smile on his face, bashful at the unprecedented (for him) attention and affection. Danny’s smile tightened when Tim looked at Jazz for confirmation (which she gave). If it weren’t for the fact that Tim loved his parents, Danny would have spirited (hah!) the kid away. He’s like a textbook case of neglect. It’s why he keeps trying to sneak out in ways that’ll easily get him caught. He’s trying to test if Danny would get mad and leave-

“Oh my god. I’m turning into you, Jazz.” Danny said, horrified.

“What?” Jazz narrowed her eyes once the statement sunk in. “What’s wrong with being more like me? I can actually process my emotions in a timely manner, thanks.”

Danny, stuck in the horror of understanding someone’s motivations and processing some of his own trauma, shuddered.

Danny picked up Tim and swung him onto his shoulders. “C’mon, Timmy. Let’s get out of here before Jazz gives us germs.”

“Oh, that’s real rich coming from the greasiest vigilante this side of the river.”

“Not true! Green Arrow’s greasier!”

“Eh, he doesn’t count. He’s in Oregon or something, right?”

“Who cares? I wanna see Robin!” Tim wriggled, placing his heavy ass camera on Danny’s head. “He’s a new Robin! The first one moved to Blüdhaven!”

“To be a cop, right?” Danny asked.

“Yeah. It’s… not great. And kinda ironic.”

“ACAB.”

——

Batman snuck closer to the glowing green figure that was glancing around the rooftops. He’s glad he sent Robin home hours ago, because variables in Gotham tended to be dangerous.

He dropped to a crouch behind the figure, who turned around as soon as he did, looking unsurprised. The being had enhanced hearing then, if not enhanced everything else.

“There you are!” The being scowled at him, but Bruce couldn’t detect any actual hostility. Only weariness. “I’ve been looking for you for ages.”

Nevertheless, he hadn’t survived this long by being careless.

“What is your business in Gotham?” He deepened his voice, adding enough gravel to sound mildly threatening.

The being shook their head, white hair unnaturally waving in the air. Like it was under water.

“I live here. I have a bone to pick with you.” Batman loosened his stance, readying to move.

“Can you keep Robin in on school nights?! If you can’t, can’t you make him go home sooner? My kid brother keeps trying to sneak out of the house to imitate Robin and it’s killing me! Do you know how many times I’ve had to stop him from climbing out of the window? We live on the third floor, man!”

A frazzled older brother. Batman-Bruce grimaced. He couldn’t stop Jason anymore than this being could. Also, “You live here?”

The being scowled, looking defensive. “Why, I can’t? Are you being discriminatory? Because I refuse to take shit from a grown man in a bat-sona.”

“…A bat-what?”

The being sighed. “Nevermind. Yes. I live here. My name is Phantom.”

“Don’t cause any trouble.” Batman warned before hesitating. The being was young, that was clear. He kind of reminded Bruce of Dick, and it made Batman’s tone soften. “And I will try. Robin is resolute.”

Phantom dropped his glowing face into his hands, a move Bruce often wanted to mirror.

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

——

Sorry guys I really like tired babysitter brother Danny and unnecessarily jumping out of windows Tim. This is before Tim decided to be a vigilante. This is after Dick moves out.

[benevolentbones]

me before you | spencer reid x reader

warnings: angst!!! kidnapping, graphic depictions of injury, death, female reader

word count: 2.6k

summary: you go missing on a job and spencer goes ballistic

a/n: i hope you guys enjoy a touch of angst! i think this is my longest fic i’ve ever written:) reblogs & comments appreciated <3

“where is she.” spencer’s voice boomed as he bursted into the conference room. every set of eyes in the cramped police department office shot to the loud sound.

spencer stood in the doorway, his fbi vest still strapped to his body. his hair was disheveled and brushed off of his face, his white button up was half buttoned and the sleeves were messily rolled up to his elbows.

his eyes scanned the room, flickering over the local police force until they landed hotch. he stormed into the room, his face contorting with rage. before hotch could even utter a word out, spencer’s hands were on him, gripping a handful of the older man’s shirt.

“where is she, hotch.” he snarled, hotch using his hands to create a distance between him and spencer.

derek immediately jumped up, pulling spencer’s flailing form off of his superior. everyone watched in shock and horror, spencer had never acted like this, and certainly not on a case.

“we don’t know.” hotch stated, a calmness to his voice, but he was as just concerned as spencer was.

“why- get off of me-“ spencer fought back in morgan’s strong hold eventually breaking free after lashing around.

“why did you let her go in without back up- are you out of your fucking mind.”

“outside. now.” hotch breathed, he didn’t want complete strangers to witness whatever was about to occur. he walked calmly through the doors, his oxfords thudding against the marbled floor.

spencer followed suit after shaking derek off, his steps messy as he fumbled behind hotch, who made a turn into a private empty office.

“reid-“

“no. don’t go there- what were you fucking thinking hotch-“

aaron leaned against the desk, his arms folded over his chest. spencer stood a few feet across from him, pacing the room.

“we didn’t know what we were in for, the house was clear..” he trailed off, recounting the events that took place an hour prior.

~

you, derek and hotch were staking out the potential unsubs house, it was a bungalow in the suburbs and a pretty run down one at that, sitting behind the van you had driven in.

“morgan, take the front. y/n, follow me around the side.” hotch spoke, his dark eyes landing on you.

you nodded, following the older man to the side of the house. from your position you could hear derek shout.

“FBI open up-“ followed by the sound of the door slamming open.

you continued to follow hotch to the back entrance, which he swiftly broke down and then entered the house.

he held his gun up, doing a sweep of the back room. “clear” he yelled out,

from the next room over he could hear morgan yell back. “hotch look at this-“

the dark haired man quickly walked to where morgan was.

they stood in the middle of the living room, the place was run down and smelled like mold. on the weathered coffee table laid a videotape recorder and a note.

hotch bent down, picking up the note. the words ‘i got you, your turn.’ were etched onto the page, hotch turned his attention to derek who beared the same confused expression.

“what does that even mean? l/n get in here.” he yelled out, attempting to get your attention to see if you could help make sense of things.

a few moments passed before he called out again. “y/n?”

hotch walked to where he had left you, the back door was still wide open, he eyes trailed down to the ground, which was when he saw it.

your gun.

from outside the sound of a engine starting up rattled, the tires screeched as the vehicle pulled onto the road.

fuck

“morgan, take the camera and the note- she’s not here.”

~

“what so you’re telling me you left y/n on her own? knowing that she fit the description of all the unsubs victims- you can’t, you can’t be-“ spencer cut himself off, letting out a choked sob.

“reid i am sorry. we will find her.” hotch reached a hand out to touch spencer’s shoulder, a wave of sadness washing over his body as he watched spencer begin to break down.

with hazel eyes brimming with tears threatening to fall, spencer sunk into hotch’s embrace. letting out shaky breaths in between cries.

“you- have to get her back- i need her- she-i can’t let her- go first.“ hotch rubbed soothing circles on spencer’s back, which proved to be hard through the bulletproof vest.

“we will find her, reid. let the team work, go home. you need rest.”

hotch was right, it was nearing two in the morning and spencer had not slept for almost thirty six hours. the circles under his eyes were noticeably more dark, looking nearly hallowed out.

spencer pulled away from the hug, his doe eyes red and puffy from the crying.

“i’ll send morgan with you, we will notify you when we find something. and we will.”

“okay. thanks.” the younger male sniffled, his tired eyes meeting hotch’s as he walked out of the office.

~

your eyes blinked awake, a slight grogginess to your vision. the florescent lighting above you hurt your eyes and your head ached.

you attempted to move but felt your hands and legs bound, your eyes darted around the room. you were tied up, sitting on a wooden stool, the room was practically barren except for a pile of sheets in the corner, a table lined with tools and a camera on a tripod. the red light blinking intermittently.

you spotted a small rectangular window at the very top of the wall, it was covered in weeds from the outside. i’m in a basement.

you wriggled, attempting to break free but only causing yourself to get rope burn, you hissed in pain.

“fuck sake.”

the metal door in front of you swung open, revealing a tall man dressed in black. he had an eerie grin etched on his face, his striking blue eyes staring at you like you were something to eat.

“hello agent l/n, nice to see you’re finally awake.” his voice sounded rough, as you ambled into the door, closing the door over leaving it a few inches ajar.

“thomas wilson.” you spat out.

“you have a smart team, y/n. you managed to find me just after five kills. bravo.” his voice laced with a mocking tone.

“it’s a shame they didn’t have your back.”

you stayed silent, eyeing his form as he began to circle the stool you sat upon.

“but i fear- this may be my last kill, so i’m going to be thorough.”

you felt your stomach drop. you were hoping, praying that maybe the team was on the way, that they would be able to get here in time.

you tried your best to read thomas, you could tell by the way he limped around you that he was injured, and he didn’t seem a hundred percent confident in himself. maybe you had a chance.

“how’d you get hurt? i’m a medic, i could help you thomas. you don’t have to-“ your attempt at empathy was cut off by a strike to your face.

the man pulled back his fist, as you slowly recoiled your head. you could feel your eyes swell, staring intensely at him through wisps of your hair that fell over your face.

“silence. we don’t have much time. i need to prepare.” he muttered to himself, walking towards the table to your right.

you racked your brain, trying to think about the other victims and their similarity to you. hair colour, eye colour, frame and stature, age. but they were all single women, involved in prostitution in one way or another. maybe you could convince him that way.

“i’m engaged, thomas.” you spoke, trying to get his attention. “i know your other victims were all single- i have a fiancé.”

“where’s the ring.” he didn’t bother looking back at you, your empty hand flexed into a fist. you never wore your ring on the field.

“i can show you photos- my phone, it’s in my jacket pocket.” you were trying to delay whatever he had planned, you were grasping at straws.

thomas limped towards you, reaching into your pocket and pulling out your phone. it was turned off, but he rebooted it, unlocking it and going straight for your camera roll.

he caught the bait.

~

“sir- y/n’s phone just turned back on.” garcia practically shouted.

“can you track it? -emily alert the swat team now.”

“on it sir.”

the majority of the team piled into cars, fbi vests strapped to their bodies. garcia sent the location to hotch and the cars sped off, it was just twenty miles from where you were taken.

“you sure this is the right place?” hotch spoke out into his phone, a slight anxiousness to his voice which didn’t go unnoticed by penelope.

“yep. i quadruple checked, the satellites picked up the van dropping the unsub and a victim at this exact address.” garcia stated from the other end of the line, faint clacking of the keyboard could be heard from her side.

“thank you, garcia. keep me posted.” he muttered before ending the call and stuffing the phone into his pocket.

“did anyone tell morgan?” hotch spoke, morgan had brought reid home and was told to stay with him incase of any updates.

“just now sir.” emily spoke, shutting her cellphone.

~

“see- that’s me and my fiancé, spencer. he works with me.” you stated as thomas scrolling through thousands of pictures of you and spencer.

you could tell this caught him by surprise, you were sure his other victims probably pleaded for their lives, saying they had families and partners to get back to. it made you feel sick.

“it’s not too late- thomas please let me go, i don’t want to leave him.” you mumbled out, fighting back tears at the thought of how distraught spencer must feel right now.

“i- i cant it’s too late. i have to do this.” he stuttered out, still scrolling through pictures on your phone, his face frowning when he came across your engagement photos.

“can i call him, can i say goodbye?” your eyes met his pale ones, you could see from his expression he was thinking things over.

“fine.”

he searched up spencer’s name on your phone, pressing the call button and holding it beside your ear.

spencer was in a car when his phone started to buzz, morgan had received the call about your location and immediately told spencer who refused to let the older man leave without him.

spencer picked up immediately once your contact came up on his phone.

“y/n- are you okay- are you hurt?” he blurted into the phone, putting it on speaker so derek could listen in. he felt a sudden relief at the sound of your voice.

“spence. i- i’m not hurt.” you paused briefly, eyeing the man next to you. he was listening in. “spence, i love you so much.” you mumbled out, white hot tears staining your cheeks.

“baby? what’s happening.” spencer questioned, his hazel eyes beginning to well up.

“i love you- and i’m sorry, i don’t think i have much time left.”

“no. no no no- you promised- me before you-you can’t leave me“ he rambled out, his heart sinking as tears began to flood from his eyes. derek gripped the steering wheel, pressing his foot down on the pedal, they were nearly there.

“i know baby- i tried-“ you choked out a sob, hearing spencer crying broke you.

thomas was getting visibly frustrated, his grip on your phone tightened. “that’s enough.” he muttered out.

“i have to go spence- i’m sorry i love you so much.” and with that, thomas had ended the call. tears streamed down your face as you tried to muster up the ability to stop.

the older man ambled back to the table, he had laid out a number of weapons. you recalled the details of how the other victims died, each one exactly the same down to the last cut. thomas likely suffered from remorseful ocd.

the man turned back to you, a knife in his grasp. he could tell he was battling within himself, he didn’t want to do this, but he felt like he had to. you could faintly hear the sound of cars passing the house, praying that someone would show up.

“i’m sorry” he muttered out as he brought the knife to your collar bone, pressing it into your skin and dragging it across.

you screamed, a wave of pain engulfing you. blood quickly began to trickle from the laceration, staining your white shirt a crimson hue.

if this was how you were going to die, you were going to make sure it haunted him forever. your eyes locked onto his, forcibly making eye contact as he switched to your left side, beginning to slice the other side of your collar precisely.

you gritted your teeth, feeling the cool metal of the knife drag across your skin. he pulled back, now pressing the bloodied knife to your throat. he was behind you, all you could do was stare straight ahead at the door in front of you.

suddenly the door burst open, hotch standing before you with a swat team piling into the room.

“drop your weapon.” he commanded, his voice booming as he pointed his gun at unsub. you have never been so relieved to see aaron hotchner in your life.

“i can’t, i have to do this.” thomas muttered out, his hand shaking as he pressed the knife to your throat. he began to press it firmly against your skin, you winced out at the pressure.

hotch immediately fired a shot, the bullet sinking into the unsubs shoulder causing him to fall back and shout in pain. a member of the swat team rushed to thomas, restraining the male as he put a pair of handcuffs on his wrists.

hotch was by your side in seconds, unbinding your hands and legs. “are you okay?” he questioned, concern lacing his usually stoic voice.

you nodded, rubbing your throat once your hands were free. you attempted to stand up, wobbling as you placed your feet on the ground, you felt weak, the bleeding around your collars had slowed but you were still losing blood.

“let me.” hotch scooped you up in his arms, carrying you up the stairs and out of the house. it was dark, and there was a swarm of swat cars and an ambulance waiting for you.

a car pulled up to the scene, the passenger door swung open and spencer stumbled out, barely getting his seatbelt off.

“y/n?!” he called out, scanning the area, once his eyes landed on your form in hotch’s arms he sprinted over.

“spence-“ you began before you were engulfed in a tight hug, hotch passed you over to spencer, making his way to the ambulance to alert the medics.

“i thought- you were-“ he blubbered out, his eyes puffy from crying.

he fell to his knees, his hold on you not wavering. you wrapped your arms around his neck to the best of your ability. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, rocking you in his arms.

“i’m going to get blood on you-“ you mumbled, trying to lighten the mood.

he let out a short laugh, followed by a small cry.

“i’m okay spence- i love you, i’m okay.” you reassured him.

“i’m never letting you go again.” he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a shaky breath.

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