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cutielando · 1 day

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can you please do a carlos friends to lovers? no smut, i can’t find carlos fluff. reader attends all the races & carlos is secretly obsessed with her & lando helps set them up?

a/n: had a lot of fun writing this one!!

♡♡♡♡♡

You and Carlos had known each other since you were little children. Growing up in Madrid next to the Spaniard had been the highlight of your entire childhood.

Carlos had always made sure he had time for you, even between his karting races and training, he never felt to make sure you knew he didn’t forget about you, that you were still his best friend and no distance could change that.

Your friendship continued well into your adulthood, well into his career all the way from karting to Formula 1. Albeit, due to the fact that you also had a stable job back home in Madrid and were building your career, you guys saw each other less and less. Settling for phone calls, texts and FaceTimes, you still felt like something was missing.

You missed all the times that you would hang out together on the balcony of your home, drinking wine and talking about anything and everything. The laughter booming in the air, reverberating against your chest, the gentle lingering touches shared between you that you both ignored, knowing it was for the best.

It wasn’t until Carlos signed with Ferrari that things changed.

He had called you as soon as he had got out of the meeting with the team, excitedly telling you about everything that he was promised, what the next season would look like for him after he departed with McLaren; he didn’t miss a single detail.

Yapping about how excited he was for the future, but also how sad it would be for him to not be teammates with Lando anymore. But the sentence that he kept repeating every time you two would talk broke your heart every time: “I wish you were here to experience this with me”

It broke you every time he would say it, the same longing that he felt amplified 100 times over for you. You loved him, more than you sometimes cared to admit, and certainly more than you would ever have the guts to tell him. You had loved him for a while now, but loving him from the shadows and distance was taking its toll on you.

Which is why you all but jumped at the opportunity he offered you to go along with him, attend the races and celebrate with him. He had claimed that he couldn’t bear thinking about the future if you wouldn’t be there, next to him, cheering him on and comforting him whenever needed.

He needed your stability and comfort, he needed to feel you there with him, no longer settling for phone calls while being on opposite sides of the world.

It wasn’t fair, and he wanted to change that.

And so, you packed your bags, smoothed things over at your job and got on the plane, and met him in Singapore. It wasn’t the best race to choose from for your first, the heat and humidity in the air hitting you like a ton of bricks as soon as you had stepped foot out of the airport.

But seeing him waiting for you, leaning against the side of his car, it made everything worth it. He hadn’t even seen you coming before you completely blindsided him and threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his tall frame. You both sighed in relief, the feeling of each other finally back together not being able to be compared with anything else.

“I can’t believe I’m really here” you had blurted out, suddenly afraid that it was all just a dream and you would wake up soon enough.

But hearing him chuckle, feeling his chest booming with laughter, you knew it was real. He was there, right in front of you, hugging you like his life depended on him. And for him, it did. He had spent so much time away from you, being deprived of your presence for longer than he would have liked. And now, when he had you right in his arms after so long, he finally felt like himself again, like he had just found the missing piece of his puzzle.

You spent the night catching up, even though you had been talking on the phone the entire time you had been deprived of each other, he still needed a night of talking to you, drinking wine and forgetting about everything else in his life besides you right in front of him.

Entering the paddock had felt more exhilarating than you would have ever imagined. The roaring of the engines and the teams preparing for the races, the screaming of the fans and every interviewer trying to get a word with the drivers. It felt as exhilarating as it felt absolutely nerve-wrecking.

“Are you okay?” Carlos asked you once you had made it to the garage.

You nodded, the smile seemingly not wanting to leave your lips. “I’m good, this is exciting” he smiled at that, nodding along.

He left you alone for a while, going over to speak to his race engineer before the race. You had stayed in place, only admiring the garage you had seen so many times on TV, now standing right in the middle of it.

When he came back, you noticed he had brought Lando with him.

“Y/N, you remember the Lando I told you about. Lando, this is my best friend, Y/N” Carlos introduced the two of you, coming to stand by your side.

“It’s very nice to meet you, I’ve heard many great things about you from Carlos” you said, smiling at the younger driver who shook your hand.

Lando greeted you back, eyeing the way Carlos was standing next to you and looking at you while you and Lando spoke.

You and Lando clicked right away, you now understood why Carlos loved the Brit and spoke so highly of him. You found yourselves a new hobby by poking fun at Carlos, who seemingly internally regretted introducing you to each other.

As the time to get in the car grew nearer, Lando bid his goodbyes and returned to his garage, only one thought in his mind.

I need to get Y/N and Carlos together by the end of the weekend.

♡♡♡♡♡

Carlos didn’t know who to thank first for winning the Singapore GP. Should he thank God for finally giving him what he had wanted ever since the start of the season? Should he thank the team for finally managing to beat Red Bull and win? No. He didn’t do any of that first.

He went to you.

He found you in the sea of mechanics and family members that had run out at the barriers, ready to welcome the new winner into their arms. But he didn’t seem to notice anyone else apart from you.

Scooping you up in his arms, his only focus was on you and the feeling of you in his embrace. He couldn't put into words how thankful he was that you were there with him, witnessing this win that the whole team had worked so hard for. The entire season had culminated into this win, and you were there to witness it.

“I’m so proud of you” you whispered once he had lowered you to the ground, his arms still tightly holding onto your arms.

He mumbled something incoherently in your shoulder, but you paid it no mind. You could only focus on him, the feeling of him slumping and relaxing against your body like he always did.

Unbeknownst to you, Lando had been looking at you two ever since he got out of his car, smiling mischievously under his helmet while walking towards the two of you.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you might as well stop torturing yourselves and just kiss already” he said, making you and Carlos pulled away from each other.

Before either of you could reply, he turned around and left, walking over to celebrate with his team.

Turning around to face each other, not a word was spoken between the two of you, but your eyes were telling a whole different story. You didn’t even think as you stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his, so many years up buried and pent-up feelings finally being free.

The entire team cheered once they noticed what was happening, but you and Carlos didn’t hear anyone else around you. It was just the two of you in that moment, in your own little bubble.

“We should have done this years ago” he mumbled against your lips, making you laugh.

“Yes, we should have”

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poetryvampire · 2 days

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Hark! The yearning is upon me.

Headcanons for your first time with Zevlor

Because I literally can't stop thinking about it.

Zevlor x Afab! non-tiefling reader

✨Nsfw✨ with angst

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

● You've been traveling with Zevlor and the tiefling camp for some time now and yet neither of you have been able to break the undeniable tension between you. More and more often you find yourself alone with the paladin, wishing he would make a move or give some sort of confirmation to his feelings.

● Zevlor is such a gentleman it's almost painful. He's going half mad with his yearning for you. If he was to act on his feelings he would need to court you properly. Prove that he was true with his intensions and you weren't some passing fling. But how to do that in such a stressful time and place? Zevlor's a hopeless romantic. He may have yet to act on his feelings but that doesn't mean he hasn't found himself penning poems of your beauty in his journal.

●You're both walking back to camp one afternoon. Your eyes catch and linger far too long. Unable to stand it a moment longer you give him a soft kiss. Before you can pull away, shocked at your own actions Zevlor deepens it, pulling you into his arms. Next thing you know you're being pushed gently against a tree, your hands moving all over each other.

●It's only the sound of your approaching companions that break you apart. You're closer to camp than you thought. Soon everyone will be gathering back for supper. There isn't time yet you're determined not to let this slip away. You tell Zevlor to come to your tent that night. Those flaming eyes study you carefully and he nods.

● When night falls you wait in a tiny slip of a dressing gown trying to keep calm. Perhaps it was a foolish mistake and he would change his mind. But the low cadence of his voice breaks the silence. Ever the gentlemen he's brought you a bouquet of wildflowers.

●The tiefling's almost speechless at the sight of you; He cant quite put words to what you inspire in him. Drawing him into a kiss you feel passion coursing through him in seconds. You're exploring each others mouths and bodies with an impatience clumsiness. Over come, you pull him down to the bedroll and rip away your night dress, instantly in love with being so exposed underneath him.

● Under his infernal gaze you can feel your wetness pooling. You're so ready to be ravished and by the look in those eyes as they rake over you he's sure to pounce any moment. Yet, he doesn't, he even pulls a bit away. By the Gods Zevlor is aching to touch you and take you and make you his. But seeing you like this, you're almost too beautiful. It's confirming that he doesn't deserve you.

●Zevlor's already cursing himself. Already he's fucking up, as always. There's hurt in your eyes, as if he could ever be unpleased with your form. He comes closer, lightly strokes your leg, plants a chaste kiss to your knee but keeps looking away.

● "Zevlor" you plead "Touch me, please. Look at what you do to me" You spread your legs open pulling a hungry moan from him. He's never been so enchanted or afraid. Slowly you kiss the palms of his hands and press them to your flesh. Soon they're moving on their own spreading reverent caresses over every inch of you.

●You're back in your own little heaven feeling Zevlor pressed flush against you. The full bulge in his pants making you desperate for him. His mouth is praising you now, kissing your breasts, your stomach, your thighs. Automatically you open your legs wider, hoping he continues.

●Oh he does; he can't help himself. Zevlor grips your thighs tight trying to keep you still as he worships you with his mouth. Overwhelmed by how delicious you are and how beautifully you moan his name, he can't help but rut into the bedroll as he pleasures you.

●Before long the heated flicks of his tongue push you over the edge, making your whole body tremble and writhe. Your cries go straight to his cock and before he can stop himself he cums hard in his pants.

● His embarrassment turns to horror as he pulls away from you to see the cuts his claws have left on your thighs. The fears that had driven him away from you for so long were becoming a reality. Somehow he had failed you as a lover by cumming so easily and he had hurt you from lack of care without even having been inside you.

● A cloud of anguish seizes his heart. Zevlor practically bows before you apologizing and affirming his coming here as a mistake he will not let happen against. You beg him stay, telling him you're fine and that he's done nothing wrong. But he's already out the door.

●The emotional whiplash of the night leaves you sobbing into your pillow until sleep takes you. Zevlor needs to let off some steam and goes on a long midnight run. He's furious with himself. The thought of having failed you is almost unbearable. Even worse Zevlor's mind won't stop drifting back to the taste of your lips and the warmth of your breasts. He feels like some kind of untamed brute. How could he ever face you again?

thank you, thank you for reading. This is another one on the list to turn into a proper fic. Haven't decided just how angsty I want to get with it. Any thoughts let me know 🧡

#the yearning #it moves me so #zevlor #bg3 #zevlor x reader #zevlor x tav #smut #angst #get yalls food #zevlor nation #im sorry im like this #headcanons

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 3 days

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for the prompts, can you do a combination of 79. 'we're not just friends you know that' and 132. 'your lips make me wonder what you taste like' with Sonny Carisi please? (i love your writing so much!)

Sonny Carisi: Not Just Friends Prompt NSFW

Thank you for the request. Sorry, it took so long to get it out. These life changes have me all turned around. Hope you enjoy xoxo

You were at the corner bar ordering a drink when a shadow fell on you. You knew it was Sonny. You could feel the warmth of his skin, and smell the warm scent of his cologne. He stops just a little too close behind you. His fingertips trail up your spine leaving a trail of fire. They go up the nape of your neck and his hand cups it gently. You shiver at his touch, pressing your lips together. “I heard you talking to Amanda,” His thumb started stroking your neck. “We’re not just friends,” You look over your shoulder meeting his blue gaze. “You know that.”

“Sonny,” You warn but make no move to back away from him. “We agreed that we shouldn’t.” His eyes rove over you. They linger on your lips stained red with

“Your lips make me wonder what you taste like.” His voice is low and full of lust. You can feel the words hot in your lower stomach. You breathe out a gasp.

“Dominick,” His other hand cupped your cheek his thumb tracing your lips. Your heart started pounding in your chest. You swore you could hear it in your ears. When your conversations had become flirtier, and sexual tension had started building around you. You had both agreed it wasn’t worth risking your friendship on something that might not last. That hadn’t stopped either of you from dangerously toeing that line.

His head tilted down, and you could feel his breath against your face. “I’m willing to risk it all, for just a taste.” His lips were inches away from yours. “I want- No, I need to know. Have to know-” You can’t ignore the pull in your stomach any longer. You lean up and steal a kiss. He wastes no time. He pulls you firmly against him and takes over the kiss. Heat like a match to dry leaves lit up in your stomach. It spread through you like wildfire.

There is a clinking of a glass hitting the bar top and someone clearing their throat. You yank back, suddenly remembering you are in a very public place where your coworkers are present. Sonny's hands stay around you clearly not caring if everyone sees. You glance around and then back at the bar. Sonny directed your gaze back to him. Your eyes searched his, pressing your tingling lips together. He doesn’t know what you are looking for, but he feels relief when a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “I don’t think just a taste is going to be enough for me.”

You go to his apartment because it is only a block away. You are barely inside the door when you start ridding him of his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. His hands slide down the back of your thighs and then urge you to wrap your legs around his waist. You buck against him, your core rubbing perfectly against his hard cock in his pants. He swipes at the table near the front door sending knickknacks, papers, and the bowl he normally tossed his keys in onto the floor. He set you on the top, his hands sneaking under your dress cupping your warm wet core. You both moan at the contact.

Your hands shoot to his pants, unbuckling his belt and fumbling with the button of his pants. Your hand grabs his cock, and he groans hand coming to the wall next to your head to maintain his balance. You stroke him firmly at a steady pace. His lips are back on yours giving sloppy wet kisses. Sonny’s hands tug at the straps of the dress as he yanks the top down to bare your breast as his hips buck into your fist. He snatches your wrist to make you stop, as he is dangerously close to losing control. He looks at you, sitting on his table. Your lips swollen from his rough kisses red lipstick completely gone. His hand stops rubbing you in favor of sliding under your ruined panties to slip a finger and then another into your dripping core. He kisses and sucks down your collarbone to your breast. He sucks a tight nipple into his mouth while changing the angle of his curling fingers just right.

You throw your head back and it hits the wall with a thump. When he looks up to make sure you are okay you pull him in for another rough kiss. You push his pants further down his legs and pull him closer with your legs around his hips. His cock brushes where his fingers are inside of you. “Please, Sonny.” You pant against his lips, “I need you inside.”

He groans removing his finger from you so that his cock can brush up against your entrance. He pulls you closer to the table's edge and his head slides inside. You scoot farther forward so that your ass is barely on the table, and it forces Sonny's dick father inside of you. You moan loudly at the pleasant stretch. Sonny curses, his hands grasping at your hips to keep you balanced. “Dominick,” You whine rocking your hips. “Move,”

He let out a shaky breath and then started thrusting slowly. “You feel so good Doll, so fucking good.” You pull his head back down for another kiss. Your breath stutters as you arch into him. The angle has most of your weight forward held just by his arms and forcing his cock to drag against your clit deliciously. You bite his bottom lip tugging it between your teeth before soothing it with your tongue. You roll your hips as he thrusts warmth curling tighter and tighter in your stomach.

Your vision blurred as your orgasm rippled through you. You clenched around Sonny and his hands grabbed your ass forcing you even closer as thrusted wildly into you. He groaned into your neck as he filled you with his seed.

Taglist:

@polkadotpenguin16

@pulparindos

@rebeccapineapple

#svu #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #dominick carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x you #sonny carisi imagine

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stillangel · 1 year

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Why does it hurt so bad to care about people?

#whether they leave or they don’t care about you or whether life just gets in the way #why does it have to hurt so bad?#my friends are going to bigger and better places and i knew they would and i knew this day was coming but oh god it hurts anyways #and i want the best for them and i know they’re going to excel #but i am selfish. please don’t leave. please don’t leave #please don’t leave me #i am trying to be brave and put on smiles for them but it hurts so bad to care so much #it’ll be my turn soon enough but it hurts so bad in the meantime #will it ever get easier? i almost hope not i never want to stop being so full of love but i do hope i learn to bear it better #all i Can think of us that one post that says something like linger uncomfortably in the doorway and forget your scarf in my life and come #back for it #please come back please linger a little longer #i will survive this but it will hurt so badly in the meantime #mine

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supercutszns · 4 months

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Luke x reader where a girl, daughter of Aphrodite, flirts with him and insults the reader, causing her to avoid Luke, but later he manages to find her and confesses that he actually likes them... I don't know if they should already be together or not, but I believe in you!!! you write very well :ooo

Sorry if the idea is bad or you wouldn't want to write something like that, if that's the case please pretend you never read this 🤡🤡🫶

true colours; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 3.6k, luke castellan x child of iris! reader

synopsis: everyone wants luke castellan, including you. curse your mother for getting your hopes up.

warnings: friends to lovers, reader is very insecure, bullying, lee fletcher & will solace cameo!! some angst with a fluffy ending

notes: thank you for the request!! as always this is longer than i anticipated but hope you like it :) i also combined it with another request for a child of iris reader (i also identify as a child of iris sometimes so i lovee writing for them) also i’m pretty sure lee + a lot of parts of this are ooc sorry but i havent read the books in about a year so hopefully everything’s fairly accurate!🌈

You knew this summer would be different because your mother sent her wishes twice as much. On the first day of July, when children flood into Camp Half-Blood like a hive of wild bees, a rainbow always lights up the sky.

This year, there were two.

As a child of Iris you’re technically supposed to be in the Hermes cabin. But your love for art, for music, for fun, has made you a particular favourite of the Apollo cabin. Most of your friends are there. They tolerate you singing in your soft, often unsure voice. They love when you catch sunlight and filter it into prisms of colour on their cabin walls.

You’d probably move in there permanently if it weren’t for Hermes. Or rather, his son.

Over the last few months, in the sticky summer heat, your mother knew you would fall in love.

It's not any surprise you love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. A fact that's becoming more obvious every passing day.

It used to bother you less. You’ve always been his meagre, hopeless friend, never any real competition to these girls. You’d basically taken yourself out of the running and instead decided to pine after him in the very back of your mind. A safe, deluded fantasy that would never happen.

Until recently, where it seems less like a fantasy and more like a terrifying possibility.

Over the past few weeks Luke has gone out of his way to be sweet to you. Or at least you think so. He’s spent extra time talking to you at lunch, laughing at your half-formed jokes almost in earnest. At bonfires he saves you a seat, grabs you a marshmallow on occasion. You even made him a friendship bracelet of sorts—admittedly a little ugly—but he’s never taken it off. Not since the day you gave it to him.

Not to mention helping you last week before the archery competition. His hands lingering over yours as he steadied your bow, the curls of his breath on the back of your neck when he stood behind you.

“Don’t be nervous,” he says, a tinge of mirth in his voice. “You just steady your aim and first is as good as yours.”

(You came in fifteenth.)

You don’t want to say that it’s him weakening your aim, making your pulse beat out of your neck. His nose brushes against the back of your jaw as he leans forward and you smell the pine on his skin. Is this friendly? Is he this close on purpose? Are you delusional?

It’s all you’ve been thinking about these past few days. So when Luke Castellan’s endless admirers come to the forefront of your mind, you feel like all those moments of potential buildup have been ripped away.

“You alright there, sunshine?”

He takes you out of your spiral with a teasing lilt you love. When you look at him, his face is a shimmering warmth, complete with boyish smile.

“Yep,” you reply, trying to ignore the nickname making your insides flutter even though you know he’s saying it ironically.

You’ve always had a gift for identifying colour. It’s the thing you pay attention to most. Something inherited from your mother, you suppose. So you’ve memorized the way Luke’s eyes melt in the sunlight. How his scar blends with his pinking cheeks when it’s hot outside. You never told him, and you probably never will, but you’ve painted him from memory quite a few times in the Apollo cabin—always with the excuse that you were practicing. It's so blatantly obvious you're in love with him there's no point in your friends bringing it up.

The two of you are meandering around camp before dinner, a tradition Luke started early on in the summer. You talk about high points of your day (mostly you) or share nuggets of gossip you’ve heard around camp (mostly him). It's the thing you looked forward to every morning. A time when his words are just for you.

Idle chatter flows as you keep walking. Sometimes your arm brushes his and you have the embarrassing urge to tug yours away. You do your best not to stare at him too long or laugh too loud at his jokes.

“Hey, Castellan!” Someone calls.

Luke’s head turns. Your heart plummets. A beautiful girl, Aphrodite cabin, you think, is heading towards you. She’s all honey-spun hair and dazzling pink lips, and it’s obvious she knows it. You don’t know her name. But Luke does.

They fall into conversation the second she arrives. It’s just greetings, pleasantries, but there’s a coy smile on the girl’s face that betrays any sense of disinterest. “Heard you’re not too keen on pairing up with us for the Chariot Race next week. What gives?” Her tone is pouty and playful as she taps Luke’s shoulder. She side-eyes you, lips curling imperceptibly. “I’m sure you’ll have a better chance with us.”

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Dunno, just thought it was fine to switch it up.”

Just like that, you’re out of the loop again. More of her friends flock after her, and soon Luke is tangled in a whole other world. They’re all glowing with a kind of righteousness you only get when you’re popular. You know Luke has friends, tons of them. He's the leader of the cabin with the most campers. Not to mention assertive and gorgeous. His presence is so inviting it’s a challenge not to fall in love with him.

So you can’t blame this girl, the one that keeps touching his arm and giggling. It’s not like you’ve staked your claim on Luke—no one even knows you exist. As much as you want him to be yours, you know you’ll never stop someone from taking him first. It’s your fatal flaw, you think. Cowardice.

You end up sidelined completely. Watching him swathed in people more charismatic than you plants an ache deep inside you. All your wishful thinking feels sour now, a pipe dream, a bedtime story to help you sleep better. Somehow it hurts more knowing that it’s nobody’s fault but yours. These people can’t be doing this on purpose. It’s just who they are. It’s who you are—always a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your mother’s daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you.

Eventually, one of the boys in the group takes notice of you. He’s not nearly as captivating as Luke is—you don’t find the colours of his eyes hold as much depth. There’s also a haughtiness when he looks at you. He sneers, “What the hell do you have on your face?”

It draws the attention of others in the group. You feel like a naked sculpture in an art gallery. “Uh, what?” You stammer.

Some of them purse their lips. The girl with Luke lets a laugh slip. You’re pretty sure you look like an idiot, waiting there with your brows wrinkled in a daze. Their gazes keep flicking over to your cheek, so your hand flies up there before you can delay any more. When you press your fingers to the side of your face, they come away tacky and pink. Mortification constricts you.

Paint. It’s leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Luke’s cheeks in the sun.

“Oh,” you say dumbly. It’s drowned by snickers. All you can do is find Luke, the only face you know, and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” without sounding too hurt.

You know you failed when your voice comes out wrong and his ebony brows push together. “I thought it looked—”

He never gets to finish because the golden girl laughs a little louder, the pink tones in her face a little darker. “Oh my Gods, you’re that Iris kid that’s always singing, right?” She giggles sharply, cornflower eyes darting between her friends. There’s something in there you can’t quite pick up on, until it flushes the pupils of all her friends, and they all grin with a secret knowledge they want you to see. “You’re, like, really good!” The girl simpers, but her bottom lip pulls between her teeth to soften another laugh.

“Oh, so good!” Another friend piles on.

Their passive-aggressive chuckles start to sound like hail on a window. You shift further away from them. Dirt slides beneath your shoe, and you long to kick up more of it, displace yourself, disappear.

You don’t look at Luke. The giggly, flaxen girl has already turned back to him, and you’re sure he’s enthralled once more. You try to stir up the image of Luke’s closeness during archery practice, the lilac bruise on his knuckles when he angled your bow, but it doesn’t take. Now, it feels like you’ve dreamed it.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke leaning down to catch a whisper from the Aphrodite girl’s ear. The boy that first commented on your cheek leans closer to you again. He’s suffocatingly smug when he grins, “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you go … wash that off? You don’t want to look like that at dinner.” He snorts. “For an Iris kid, you really aren’t good at taking a message.”

If you were a more confident person, maybe you’d point out how that didn’t really make sense, or how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. But the sentiment of it wounds you, and you’re weak enough as is.

"Guess you're right," you mumble. You wipe your face of paint as you leave. The memory of Luke’s skin stains you until you wash your hands off in the sink.

You haven’t talked to him since.

It’s been a few days of you avoiding him, and it’s hard to explain to anyone why you’ve been doing it. How do you tell the truth? Luke Castellan is a work of art and you are … a weird doodle, or something. Despite your adoration, you know there’s no reason he should feel the same for you. Everyone loves him for a reason. Everyone must ignore you for one, too.

“Why haven’t you been talking to Luke?”

The question breaks your concentrated silence in the Apollo cabin. You’ve been sitting here for a while now, humming to yourself over a mostly blank canvas. The cabin is dusted with a lilac haze, thanks to your manipulation of the light streaming through the windows. Helps you feel less like you’re at camp and more like you’re in a fairytale.

“Helloooo, lady, I asked you a question.”

You begrudgingly look up. Lee Fletcher, head of the Apollo cabin, is at the mouth of the cabin, gazing at all your supplies strewn about the floor like they’re a bunch of unsavoury substances. “It looks like a hurricane came in here. Now why aren’t you talking to Luke?”

“How do you know I’m not talking to him?” You mutter as Lee sits beside you.

“Uh, because you’ve been sleeping here multiple nights in a row and you never do that. And you don’t sit with him at dinner. And whenever we see him you drag me in the other direction—”

“Lee!”

“I’m just saying, you should probably talk about it. My beautiful voice can heal wounds, yes, but not of the heart.” He splays a hand across his chest in mock theatrics.

You don’t say anything. The familiar weight of the brush against your fingertips is far more comforting than trying to talk, so you busy yourself with your canvas again. “He waits for you, you know,” Lee continues, quieter. “In the morning. And before dinner. He always asks if you’re here.”

“Oh,” you say, and your wavering voice betrays your expression. But you think of everyone else at camp, their gleaming smiles and their celebrated parents, their own cabins and friends and dreams, how you don’t seem to have any of those. You think of the girl whispering in Luke’s ear. All her shades of beauty. You know it’s wrong to compare yourself, to be jealous. You’re just … sad.

The cabin darkens from a lilac to an imperceptibly gloomier shade. A blue sort of longing gets caught in your throat, blurring the colours on your canvas. But you keep your brush steady, focused on the scratch of its bristles so you don’t have to hear what you say next.

“I think I love him, Lee.” And then, “But I don’t think he loves me.”

There’s no sound except the scraping of your brush when it’s run out of paint, and a sniffle when a tear rolls down your cheek.

“Oh,” Lee fills the silence the way you did just moments before. Then he says your name, laced with pity, and hugs you on the floor of his lavender cabin.

“You want to help me lead the bonfire song tonight?” He asks after a minute. “Or at least … come to the bonfire song?”

“No to the first, yes to the second.”

You wish you said no to both.

The spot you choose after dinner is right next to the fire so you can distract yourself with the golden flecks of flame. Fire is so fluid, so complex, from a colour perspective. But no matter how close you get, the searing warmth can’t hide Luke’s gaze peering over the embers.

He will not. Stop. Looking at you.

The singing from the Apollo kids usually soothes you but tonight it’s just making you anxious. All this attention so close to you. Will Solace has been sitting next to you this whole time, your unofficial assigned companion for the night thanks to Lee. One of his siblings beckons him over, and he shoots you an apologetic look, hesitating. "Just go," you wave off kindly. "It's all good." He's not entirely convinced, and you aren't either, but he squeezes your shoulder with thanks and leaves you anyway.

Now you’re acutely aware the space next to you is wide open. And so is Luke, it seems. There’s an awkward moment where your gazes slide over each other and he weaves out of his current crowd towards you. So you do the most mature, sound thing you could possibly do in this situation:

You say you have to go to the bathroom to no one in particular and get out of there.

It’s dark, but you’ve got sharper eyes than most. Soon the noise of the campfire is behind you. You traipse through the camp towards the bathroom,but you don’t get far before you hear something that makes your stomach drop in the worst and best way.

Luke, calling your name.

At first you think you can get away with not hearing him. Then he calls a second, a third, a fourth time, punctuated with, “Come on, I know you can hear me, can you just turn around?”

He’s got longer legs than you so the next time he speaks it’s practically in your ear. “Hey, just look at me. Please. I want to talk to you.”

There’s something so tender in his voice that it makes you cave immediately. But you already feel so fragile, you can feel the tears behind your eyes. You know you won’t have the strength to talk to him.

His hand curls gently around your wrist and it sends warmth all the way up your arm. He says your name again, softer, and you love the way it sounds. You can’t meet his eyes, but you already know what he looks like. Even in the dark you picture him crystal clear.

“Look at me,” he repeats. “I just—I need to know what I did wrong.”

His dark eyes are full and apprehensive when you heed him. You notice how much you’ve missed studying his face—the slight bunch of his brows, the tensing in his jaw. And you almost delude yourself that he’s missed you just as much, the way he squeezes your wrist and rakes over your expression.

“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks.

“I’m not—”

“You are. I know you. Just tell me why.”

He looks so sweet, so earnest, and it kills you. You think of the way he looked when all his friends made fun of you. It all comes up before you can help it.

“Do you always let me walk around looking like an idiot?” You ask bitingly, staring at the floor. “The thing, with the paint on my cheek—why didn’t you tell me? I looked so stupid and all your friends just laughed at me!”

His face falls. “I tried to tell you, I thought—”

“It’s okay to say you don’t like me, or that you’re embarrassed, or whatever, but I …” You swallow, tears thick on your lower lashes. “Everyone makes fun of me. I don’t know why you don’t.”

“Because I do like you,” he states, hand moving up to your forearm.

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re so much … better, you know you are, and I don’t want your pity, or your spare time. I just—I made something up in my head that wasn’t there and I only noticed it the other day after you talked to that girl and that guy made fun of me and I’m really, really sorry—”

“It looked cute. I was trying to say I didn’t tell you about the paint because I thought it was cute.”

There’s a lull.

“What?” You blink stupidly.

“I know I should’ve told you about it, but I swear I was going to before dinner, I didn’t think we’d run into anyone before then.” His cheeks tinge red. “I had this whole dumb thing planned out where I’d wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.”

His hand on your arm is a frighteningly grounding thing. You're dumbstruck by that alone. Your lips part, but all that comes out is, “Why?”

A gentle laugh tumbles out of his throat. “Why do you think?”

His other hand comes up to brush your cheekbone, where the paint had been, and you can imagine him doing it to you on that day. How you'd probably react just the way he said you would, the way you are now. A warm orange glow blooming in your chest. “But the girl—”

“She tried whispering to me how much she liked my bracelet,” he smiles fondly. “Told her you made it for me. It shut her up. I don’t know what that guy said to you but I chewed ‘em all out the second you left. They knew I wasn’t happy. I tried looking for you but you were gone. I don't like them, you know."

You don’t know what to say. It’s too difficult, too uncertain for you to jump the gun on this. So you just stare at all the shifting colours on his face as he moves closer to you. All this time going over his every detail, and there's still more to be enthralled by.

“I found the paintings,” he says, voice so close you can feel it brushing your skin. “The ones of me. I was looking for you in the Apollo cabin a week ago and you left one out. I knew it was yours because ... I mean, there’s no one in the world that can make me look that … beautiful.”

The last word is apprehensive but it’s spoken with an unimaginable tenderness. He looks a little teary himself. You think you’re dreaming. “I knew I had to tell you after that. I’ve been trying to tell you. But you started pulling away from me so I thought I was making it all up.”

“Tell me what?” It’s a ghost of a question between you, an impossible thing, but the hand on your arm slips around to your back and he presses it there with such certainty.

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” He cocks his head, but you nod. “I’m in love with you, I think.”

The words cascade over you in ribbons of warmth. Your brain feels fuzzy, seperate from the rest of your body. Your mouth opens multiple times but you can’t seem to control what comes out. “Luke, are you joking?”

“Not even a little.”

“But you’ve got so many other—”

“I want you.”

“I am literally the most incompetent person alive; I can’t sing, I can’t talk to people, I have a weird knee—”

"Your knee is fine!"

"I'm just saying, this makes no sense from an outsider perspective, it's—"

“Okay, clearly the telling thing isn’t working so I guess I’m just gonna have to kiss you.”

It happens so quickly you don’t have any time to think (probably for the better). You let out a surprised “oh” before his mouth silences you, stopping every other thought. He’s gentle, thumb still rubbing your cheekbone, other hand still firm at your waist. You want to panic—where should you put your hands? How do you know you’re doing this right? But he steadies you, the way he always does, and you give in.

He starts to smile against your lips. You’re almost positive the intensity of your heartbeat could summon a storm. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth and you think you’re going to evaporate. “I don’t think I’m very good at this,” you whisper.

“You’re perfect.” He grins a little when your hands tentatively tug at a curl on the nape of his neck. “And none of that stuff you say is true. I mean, you’re definitely a better singer than me.”

Leaning close to your ear, he warbles out a song you know but gets the words horribly wrong anyways. You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”

He hums and chuckles with you. You swear the moon gets brighter when he wraps his arms around your waist to kiss the side of your face. “Next time you paint me, I want to be there when you do it.”

You blush harder than you ever have in your life. “Only if you try painting me,” you say quietly.

“Of course. You’re very pretty, so I’m sure my horrible artistic skills won’t even make you look bad.”

Luke lets you press your face into the crook of his neck. You soak it up for all it’s worth.

In the morning, you wake up in the same position. Your nose tucked against his collarbone, the shade of pink you love freckled across his cheeks. You can't wait to paint him again.

When you look out the window, you say a silent, grateful prayer to your mother.

She's given you two more rainbows.

#perrie’s fics #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #charlie bushnell #perrie's requests #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo fic #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fluff #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv show #heroes of olympus #percy jackson

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saistappen · 25 days

Text

Special guest | MV1

In which Max pays a visit to a primary school class to answer a few questions before the Dutch gp

In which Max only has eyes for the young class teacher

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

Today is a very special day. Your six-year-old pupils were particularly looking forward to this day.

The Zandvoort Grand Prix, which was not too far from the school, would take place at the weekend.

In a few minutes, a very special guest would be coming to your class - the lion class.

Over the last few days, you and your class have organised and prepared a lot to make your guest's time in class as pleasant as possible.

A satisfied smile sits firmly on your face as you walk through the rows of tables and put up the children's name tags you have made so that your guest can call them by name.

You then unfold the blackboard to reveal the colourfully painted greeting.

Written in orange chalk in the centre is the words Welcome Max Verstappen.

Your pupils have painted a few trophies around it, as well as chequered flags and racing cars.

A glance at the clock hanging above the classroom door tells you that it is about time for the first pupils to arrive.

Shortly afterwards, the first pupils enter your classroom with big smiles on their faces. Some of the children are already wearing fan merchandise.

After you have greeted each child with a quick hug, the rows of tables slowly start to fill up and an excited murmur goes round the room.

"Good morning my lions", you greet your class with a smile on your lips and a little chant of welcome comes back.

"As you know, we have a visitor coming in a few minutes. But before we get there, I'd like to go through a few things with you about how we're going to behave during this," you begin as you sit down on the edge of your desk and look around the room.

Yesterday you went through the rules for today with your protégés. It is important to you that everything runs smoothly and well today.

It's not a given that someone famous would take the time to answer questions in a class full of six-year-olds.

" Who can tell me the most important things to consider for today? "

Within a few seconds, countless hands shoot into the air.

Your gaze wanders briefly through the rows before you take a boy from your class, who lists all the rules to be observed for the next two lessons.

With a satisfied smile on your lips, you thank the boy and add a sentence or two, telling your charges that it's important that they don't talk out of turn and to please come forward if they want to ask Mr Verstappen a question.

You know that the class is pretty excited and probably not everything will go one hundred per cent, but despite all that, you're really confident that it will go well.

Some time passes, during which your class spends painting Max Boliden in bright colours, until there is a knock at the door of your classroom.

Countless heads go up and look over to the door with wide eyes, while one or two squeak out.

You can clearly see the nervousness slowly rising in each of them, even in you.

You wipe your slightly sweaty hands on your black jeans before a smile creeps back onto your lips and a "Come in" leaves your lips.

Shortly afterwards, the door opens and a smiling Max Verstappen steps into your classroom.

As he does every time there's a race weekend, he's wearing one of his team shirts and dark trousers.

"Good morning! "He beams as he enters the classroom and lets his gaze wander round the room.

"Good morning Mr Verstappen! "The class literally shouts in chorus, causing a proud smile to spread across your lips.

Point one has already been successful.

"Welcome to the lion class. I am Mrs y/l/n. I'm really pleased to welcome you here today," you greet the Dutchman and hold out your hand to him, which he shakes with a smile.

" I'm delighted to be here today. "

You notice how his eyes linger on you a little longer, so you clear your throat quietly and look back at your protégés, who are scrutinising Max curiously and whispering quietly.

"Look what we've painted for you! " shouts Leona, one of your students, pointing to the blackboard and presenting the colourful picture to Max.

"You drew this especially for me? That's really great! " Max steps a little closer to the board to take a closer look at the artwork.

"And we drew cars too! " shouts the next child and gets Max's attention.

"Did you design new liveries for special Grand Prix races? " Max begins to walk through the rows to take a closer look at the coloured-in cars.

He repeatedly takes time for each of the children to exchange a few sentences with them about their coloured pictures.

Smiling, you watch him and sit back on the edge of your desk.

A glance at the map next to you shows that Max will start by introducing himself and talking about his motorsport career. Afterwards, the children will ask a few questions and get autographs. Finally, there will be a little bobby car race in the schoolyard, where each child will compete against Max himself.

"You're all really great artists. I'll show my team your paintwork and I'm sure something can be done! " Max grins as he walks back to the blackboard with the pile of leaves.

Enthusiastic murmurs go through the class as Max begins to prepare for his little talk.

And shortly afterwards, he begins to tell your class, who are literally glued to his lips, about his motorsport career.

During Max's lecture, you sat in the back row to give Max enough space at the front of the blackboard.

His lecture was quite interesting, so now you know a lot more about the Dutchman.

The children had been so quiet throughout the lecture that you are really proud and shower the children with a little praise.

"And now we come to your questions. Now you can ask me anything you've always wanted to know. But think about your question carefully, because everyone is only allowed to ask me one. "

Max holds up his index finger to make it clear to the children that they are really only allowed to ask one question.

"Just one? How am I supposed to decide which question to ask? " Liana's sad voice sounded from the front, causing Max to start smiling.

" You'll manage that, Liana. Take some time to think of a good question," you reassure the little blonde-haired girl, whereupon Max gives you a grateful look.

" Who wants to start asking me a question? " As Max's gaze begins to wander around the class, countless little fingers are raised in the air.

One or two of them even start to kneel on the chair so that they can stick their finger higher in the air and be seen better by Max.

" Finn ", Max takes the first boy.

" Would you like to drive for Red Bull forever or for Mercedes or Ferrari? "

The Red Bull driver leans against your desk and rests his hands slightly to the right and left of him as he begins to think for a moment.

Your protégés look eagerly at their star and wait for an answer.

"I actually feel incredibly comfortable in my team and so far there's no reason for me to leave. I get on well with everyone in the team and we have a good working relationship so that everything runs as smoothly as it should. I'll never rule out a change, because you never know what's to come, but so far I can reassure you and tell you that I'm not considering a change. "

A sigh of relief goes through the class, which makes you grin.

In fact, most of your class are Max and Red Bull fans.

" Who is your favourite team colleague? " Joleen asks Max after he has taken her on.

"So far I've got on really well with all my team mates and we've all got on really well, but if I had to choose a team mate who I've got on best with, I'd say Daniel. The two of us not only get on particularly well in Formula 1, but also in our private lives. "

In fact, you've already guessed this answer, as you could always clearly see how well Max and Daniel got on and harmonised with each other.

You still mourn the time when Max and Daniel were team-mates. That time really was by far one of the funniest content times at Red Bull Racing.

A few more interesting questions were asked, which Max answered in detail, such as his favourite colour, which is blue, his favourite food, which was tomato soup and the question about his pets, Jimmy and Sassy two Bengals cats.

"Is there anyone else who hasn't asked me a question yet? " Max's gaze travelled around the class.

Even after answering countless questions, he still seemed pretty relaxed and happy.

"Mrs y/l/n hasn't asked a question yet," Johann takes the floor as all the children turn to look at you.

Max also leans a little more on the desk now as he leans forward to see you in the back row.

" Do you have a question for me? " he grins.

So you start going through all the possible questions that are floating around in your head.

There are a lot of things that would interest you, but they don't belong here right now, so you decide on the simplest question that any teacher would have asked.

" What was your favourite subject at school? "

" Oh, that's really easy! " Max grins and almost claps his hands. " Your teacher will probably rip my head off for this, but I never liked going to school. The only subject I liked was geography. What's your favourite subject? "

Countless voices start shouting their favourite subjects in confusion, which Max takes in his stride with a smile and somehow tries to catch every subject.

To restore some calm, you walk back to the front and start clapping a rhythm, which the children immediately follow and the class becomes quiet again.

A quiet " Wow " leaves Max's lips, who looks at you with fascination and makes the blush rise slightly in your cheeks.

"That's the best way to keep things quiet," you almost babble as you start to clear your desk to give Max a little more space for the upcoming autographs.

You had already cleared out your desk, so there were hardly any things on it. However, you now have to keep your hands busy to avoid blushing even more or doing something stupid.

" Please line up to get an autograph. If you have an autograph, please go and put on your jacket so that we can go out into the school playground straight away. Please keep your voices down," you remind the children, who shortly afterwards line up in front of your desk waiting to sign an autograph.

You take the seat next to the door to keep an eye on the children who are putting on their jackets.

The autograph session goes faster than expected, so that within twenty minutes all the children are standing in the corridor whispering in their jackets and then follow Max and you out into the schoolyard in a duck march.

Yesterday afternoon you had already set up a small parkour, which you will have to drive through today with the two Bobby Cars.

The red and blue Bobby Car are already ready and waiting to be used.

You had even made a small podium out of cardboard boxes and bought small mini trophies to give your offspring the full programme of a racing experience.

While the children would race against Max, you would time them and the three fastest times would end up on the podium.

Max grabs the blue Bobby Car, which just fits half his knee, while Aaron can sit perfectly on the red Bobby Car.

While the two race against each other, the children cheer on Max and Aaron in different groups.

The latter narrowly wins, as Max has a few problems with the only Bobby Car.

Despite all this, the Dutchman doesn't lose the fun of the game, so he competes against every single child with joy and fun, even if it's not enough for one of the three podium places in the end.

Standing proudly on the podium with their trophies, the three winners literally raise their plastic trophies in the air until a couple of water pistols are used to replace the champagne shower and all the children run across the schoolyard screaming and chasing each other.

Smiling, you look after your class as Max stands next to you.

"That was a really nice day. Thank you for preparing so many nice things. I really don't know the last time I really enjoyed a day like this," said Max, smiling and thanking you.

"I also have to thank you. You really put a lot of effort into my class. You were really looking forward to the day, which was a real success. "

You can't stop a smile from forming on your lips as Max gives you a smile and then pulls something out of his trouser pocket.

" I forgot to give you your autograph. "

The Dutchman smiles and hands you the autograph card before also grabbing a water pistol and running over to your class.

Confused, you lower your eyes to the autograph card, which shows a grinning Max in his dark racing suit.

You really have a great class.

Your lions are really lucky to have such a great teacher like you.

You've learnt a lot about me today and I hope I get the opportunity to get to know you a little better.

Why don't you write to me

01*******

#max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #formula one imagine

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fleur-bbyy · 6 months

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ WAKING THEM UP TO FUCK!

PAIRINGS: SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO, TOJI FUSHIGURO, KENTO NANAMI.

WARNINGS: MDNI!!! female reader, pet names, (gojo) cuddle fucking, (geto) missionary, light teasing, (toji) cowgirl, him being a lazy bastard, (nanami) doggy, ass slapping

SATORU GOJO: just as horny as you are.

the air around you is sweltering as you wake from your dream, but you swear your core feels even hotter.

you’re already soaked, panties sticking to your skin. sticking uncomfortably at that. it’s early, too early to even think about trying to get off. causing you to try to wiggle around and get comfortable again so you could go back to sleep before you feel an arm sling around your waist.

“can’t keep squirming like that, baby.” satoru’s voice is low in your ear with the slightest rasp. enough rasp to make your cunt clench around absolutely nothing and for your body to involuntarily squirm again.

“sorry, satoru. just got woken up from a dream.”

“oh?” his slender fingers rub up and down your side, lingering a little longer when they reached your hip. “is that why your panties are so wet?”

you frown. you know he’s used to this and it doesn’t bother him at all, but you still feel bad for waking him in the night so frequently.

“‘m sorry, ‘toru. i know you have to work tomorrow.” he hooks his chin over your shoulder and giggles into your neck.

“don’t be sorry, pretty girl, not faring much better than you right now.” you feel him shallowly thrust against your ass, feeling how hard his cock is. “how about you help me out and i help you?” his fingers slip from your waist to the top of your panties and once you nod your head, he’s pulling them down just far enough to uncover your pussy.

“this is why sleeping naked is so worth it,” he pauses as he lines up with your entrance and begins to push in, the pair of you moaning when he sinks in all the way, “makes it so i can help my girl faster.”

you whimper when his hand moves to grip your waist, holding you closer to him as he begins to thrust. your pussy squelching from how wet you were.

“were you having a good dream baby? that why you’re so soaked f’me?” you moan again in response, frantically nodding your head.

“yeah?” he thrusts into you harshly and groans, “tell me allllll about it, pretty, and i’ll make it come true.”

SUGURU GETO: tired until he slips it in.

you knew better than to wake up suguru late on a work night, but you were aching so badly and it wasn’t something just your own fingers could fix.

his raven hair was spread across his pillow and his arm was slung across his eyes to black any of the light in the room. he looked unbelievably beautiful and hot, even though you couldn’t see his whole face.

“please baby?” you whisper, kissing the column of his neck. “i won’t do it again. i promise.” the corner of his lips tug into a smirk and his hand snakes down to palm his growing erection.

“you’re so lucky i love you.” you smile when he lazily rolls on top of you. your face scrunching into pleasure when he runs a finger through your wet slit.

“no panties baby? sure you weren’t planning on waking me up?” his voice still laced with sleep.

“no, never.” you smile up at him again, eyes low as you watch him jerk his thick cock a few times before lining in up with your sopping hole. pushing in just the tip to play with you.

“don’t tease right now, need you so bad.”

“yeah?” he pauses to yawn, eyes squinting, but never moving from the sight of your pussy stretching around the head. “how bad, baby?”

“so bad, please don’t make me beg.” you roll your hips into him and stick out your bottom lip. he groans, not wanting to tease you more for your and his sake.

“y’so lucky i’m sleepy and don’t wanna tease.” he says, throwing your legs over his shoulder as he begins to sink into you further. both of you throwing your head back and his eyes snapping shut.

“ohh fuck.” he growls. hips rolling forward to meet yours and your skin making a slight slapping sound when they connect. suguru leans over to grip the headboard. long, messy hair dangling in his face.

“so sorry for waking you up, ‘guru.” you whine as he reaches so impossibly deep inside you. the headboard beginning to smack against the wall.

“don’t be sorry, baby, i’m wiiiide awake now.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO: he’ll wake up, but makes you do the work.

“toji, baby?” you lightly shake his arm to no avail. “tooooji.” you throw the duvet off of your hot skin and shake him once more, grinning when he stirs from his sleep.

“what’re y’waking me up at this time for?” he rubs his eyes with his fists and looks at the small digital clock on his nightstand. the deep rumble of his voice and the slur of his words only served to make your core ache even more than it already did. tracing his happy trail with your eyes down to the waistband of his sweatpants and fixating your gaze on his bulge.

“‘m so horny, baby.” you swing a leg over his torso and straddle him, the heat of your clothed pussy radiating onto the part of him your wanted most.

“yeah? y’want me to fix that, don’tcha?” you nod your head and see his scarred lips tug into a smirk as he flips the rest of the duvet off of his legs. feeling one of his large hands rub your side. his eyelids low and eyes still bleary from being woken up. “hop on f’me, princess.”

your hands gently, but quickly, tug down his grey sweats, practically drooling when his hard cock springs free from its confines and slaps his stomach. you push your own panties to the side and slowly begin to sink down on him, already moaning loudly just from the stretch. his hands rest lazily on your hips as you begin to bounce on him. throwing your head back in ecstasy when you get the angle just right.

“baby?” you whisper out, already breathless.

“hm?”

“you’re not gonna help?” he smirks again and tucks one of his arms behind his head.

“nah, baby. y’woke me up. i’m gonna enjoy my show.”

KENTO NANAMI: was never asleep in the first place.

you awake to the sounds of your bedroom door shutting gently and rustling in your dresser drawers.

your eyes open slowly, trying to adjust to the light the lamp on nanami’s nightstand produces. finally focusing on the blonde undoing his tie in front of the mirror. you don’t bother to look at the time, you know it’s late by the way nanami’s posture is slightly drooped.

“kento?” you barely whisper, voice still waking up with you. he turns to look in your direction as he untucks his dress shirt and begins to unbutton it.

“hi honey,” he stops to fumble with a tricky button on his shirt, “shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“maybe, but i’d rather see you.” and boy is that the truth.

your eyes ghost across his body, taking in the way his jaw clenches, how tight his pants are around his thighs, the tuft of hair peeking out from the top his shirt, finally stopping when you notice that his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and exposing his bulging arms.

“that so?”

“mhm.” you flip the blanket off your legs, revealing the nightgown you were wearing. his favorite nightgown to be exact. “was missin’ you.”

“i can tell.” his shirt is thrown into the hamper, or at least he thinks it is. he was too preoccupied by how pretty you looked in that little gown to double check.

he keeps watching as you hop up from the bed, the hem of your gown barely covering your ass as you walked over in the direction of the hamper. his cheeks flushed when you bent over and he could see every bit of your glistening pussy.

“you missed, silly.” you said as you picked up his discarded shirt and put it properly in the basket. looking back at him over your shoulder and smiling coyly when he began to saunter over to you. simultaneously removing his leather belt from the loops of his pants and fumbling with the zipper.

“beginning to think you woke up on purpose.” he made quick work of freeing his cock from his boxers and dress pants, groaning when you rubbed your wet cunt against him. “naughty girl.”

“mmm, yeah? only for you.” he groans again when you reach behind you to grab his cock and position the tip to your wet hole. smiling back at him once more before pushing your ass back against him and pushing his cock in at the same time.

“you’re such a fuckin’ angel, shit.” he uses one of his hands to bend you over and the other to grip the fat of your hip. you’re wetter than ever and your sweet cunt is sucking him in like your life depended on it.

“sure you can handle it, baby?” you moan out, back arching and giving nanami a delicious view. “i know you have work tomorrow, ken.”

“if you cared about that, you would’ve asked about it first.” he laughs and takes the splayed hand off your back to give your ass two good slaps. “besides, i’d be a damn fool to choose sleep over this.”

a/n: self indulgent sleepy sex for my birfday :3

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lqvesoph · 2 months

Text

She’s WHOSE daughter??? || LN4

gif by @quadrantslandonorris

lando norris x webber!reader

summary: During a trip to Daniel’s farm house, you find an unexpected visitor standing in your best friend’s backyard

part 1 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

masterlist | taglist

Part 2

"So glad you could make it!", Danny called and wrapped you into a hug as soon as he opened the front door. "You know I love it here!", you laughed and stepped into his home in Perth, Australia.

It was Monday before the Australian Grand Prix and Daniel had invited you to spend a few days at his farm before flying across the country to Melbourne.

You spotted an unfamiliar pair of shoes next to Daniel‘s million others but didn’t think much of it. Maybe he bought another pair.

"Daniel, tell me again where the- oh hi", you heard a familiar british accent, one that you have missed over the last three long weeks since Bahrain and turned around to find a dripping wet and shirtless Lando in the glass door that led out to the backyard. His curls were dripping shining droplets of water onto his defined and tanned chest from which you couldn’t teat your eyes away.

"The towels are in the drawer, mate", Daniel spoke, snapping you out of your trance. "Thanks", Lando mumbled but didn’t move from his place.

You all stood there in silence for a few seconds before you cleared your throat. "I… uh- I-I‘ll go to my room", you stuttered, taking the suitcase and quickly making your way up the marble stairs.

"Why didn’t you tell me she was coming?", you heard Lando hiss. "Why would you have wanted me to?", Daniel asked nonchalant, and you knew you shouldn’t eavesdrop but you couldn’t help it, wanting to know Lando‘s response. "I- I don’t know", he stuttered defensively before tapping over to the drawer to get himself a towel.

Truth was, his small crush on you grew over the last couple of weeks. He followed your every move on Instagram and Twitter, even scrolling down to pictures from 2016, finding a few of you and baby Oscar during his Formula 3 career or little you in Daniel‘s Red Bull from 2017. He‘s probably memorized your highlights at this point.

Adding to that he asked Pietra for her advice on your best songs and your discography has been on repeat for three weeks straight.

You put your suitcase next to your bed and plopped down on it, only now noticing your racing heart.

During your deep dive through Lando’s Instagram account, you obviously had seen a few pictures of him shirtless, the one from Bahrain being the set of pictures you were hung up on the most, even saving one of them. But jeez… none of those pictures did the live picture justice!

You opened your eyes and took a deep breath before rummaging around your suitcase to find the black bikini you had packed for your trip.

You put it on and took your towel, phone and sunglasses and made your way downstairs. Lando and Daniel sat by the pool on two sun beds, playing some sort of card game. Both were shirtless and had matching bucket hats on their curls. You chuckled at the sight and placed your towel on the third sun bed.

Lando looked up from the game and subtly looked you over, his eyes lingering at your pushed up breast, that were barely covered by the tight black bikini top, a little longer than appropriate but you couldn’t find yourself caring. The opposite actually, the little hesitation brought a smirk to your face.

You lay down on your stomach on the sun bed and closed your eyes. "If I fall asleep, please put some sunscreen on my back in an hour or two", you mumbled, getting a hum from both boys next to you.

You couldn’t even begin to explain how much you have missed the Australian sun.

*~**~*

You didn’t even notice you fell asleep until you were woken up by a pair of warm hands rubbing your back. Guess the flight has been more exhausting than you thought.

You lifted your head up slightly, still a little dazed from the sleep. "Heyy, good morning", a soft british accent spoke over you.

Lando.

Then you started noticing a few other things around you. For example your hair that was wrapped in a loose bun, one that you definitely didn’t do yourself.

"I put your hair up so it wouldn’t stick on the sunscreen", he said, almost as if he had read your thoughts. "Thanks", you mumbled, then you frowned. "How did you-"

"I have two younger sisters, so I know a little about hair styles", Lando chuckled and kneaded your shoulders while rubbing in the sunscreen. The small action made you groan a little. "Feels good", you muttered.

"I can tell", he spoke and you could hear the smirk on his face, so you kicked your leg up to hit his back. "Owh", he let out and broke out in laughter after. You couldn’t help but join in as well and pushed yourself up on your elbows to look around you.

You noticed the missing sunglasses on your face when squinting to see against the setting sun but quickly found them on the table next to you.

"Daniel is getting the grill ready and Heidi has just arrived a few minutes ago", Lando told you and you turned your head to meet his eyes. But got quickly distracted by his tanned chest. Your eyes flickering down and stayed there for a second longer than necessary, before looking back up into his green eyes and only now realizing how close your faces were to each other.

His gaze flickered down to your lips before finding your eyes again.

"Hey dipshit, dinner is almost ready!", Daniel called from the path between the pool section and the little hut with a fire place. "We’ll be there in a second!", Lando called back, not tearing his eyes away from yours.

Your eyes darted down to his plumb lips. "We probably should…", you whispered, letting your sentence uncompleted. Lando nodded but still kept his gaze you. "Yeah, we probably should", he agreed.

The two of you kept each other gaze for a few seconds longer before looking down at the same time and clearing your throats. You grabbed your black shorts and quickly put them over your bikini bottoms, feeling your heart beating fast in your chest and a small throbbing in your lower region. A quick stolen glance at Lando told you, your interaction also left its mark on him.

He cleared his throat another time before standing up and grabbing a baby blue loose dress shirt to put over his shoulders, leaving the buttons undone.

Together you made your way over to the fireplace, where you found Heidi and Daniel next to a bluetooth box that played relaxing music.

"Hey, honey!!", Heidi called and immediately came over to hug you. You smiled and wrapped your arms around the girl who has been like an older sister to you for the longest time.

"It’s so good to see you again!", she smiled and pushed a few strands of hair behind your ear. "Your hair has gotten so long!" You laughed and sat down at the set table.

Daniel looked at Lando with a knowing smirk, whereupon Lando rammed his elbow into the older guy’s ribs.

*~**~*

As the night came, the temperatures got chilly, even in Australia. You shivered a little even if the fire spent a little warmth.

"You cold?", Lando muttered, leaning over the armrest of his chair. You looked over at him, getting lost for a second in the way half of his face was light up by the fire light.

You hummed and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself.

"Take my hoodie", he suggested, pulling the lavender colored hoodie from his chair. "Thanks", you smiled.

From the corner of your eyes you saw how Daniel gave you a rather knowing glance but you chose to ignore it.

That was until he didn’t give you another option.

"Y/n, you wanna come and help me inside?", he asked but it sounded more like a demand. You nodded and stood up from your seat before following Daniel inside.

All while Lando’s eyes never left you.

Daniel was waiting for you by the kitchen counter. "What are you doing?", he wanted to know. You shrugged, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

"He’s cute", you simply replied.

"You know I love you like my little sister but Lando’s one of my best mates. And I already know that he’s got quite the crush on you, it’s fairly obvious so I gotta make sure that this is coming from your side as well and isn’t some sort of joke flirting", the australian explained.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest. "It’s not, I really do think he’s cute", you nodded.

"Does he know who your dad is?", Daniel pressed further, knowing this was some sort of make-or-break question to you.

Given the history of boyfriends you’ve had and loads of your early ones, always dating you for your father, you’ve started to not tell people about your father. Not until you were sure, they were here for you.

Your silence gave Daniel his answer.

"If you like him, why didn’t you then?", he wanted to know. "Because I want to get to know him before! I met him once three weeks ago, do you expect me to just go like "Hi, I’m Y/n, nice to meet you. By the way I’m Mark Webber’s daughter"?? I haven’t exactly spent a lot of time with him", you muttered.

"Just… don’t lead him on. I haven’t seen him this nervous over a girl in a long time", Daniel sighed and opened his arms. "C’mere."

*~**~*

Even though the night got very late, you were up incredibly early the next day, still having to adjust to the eastern australian timezone.

As quietly as possible you walked down the stairs to the kitchen, wearing a pair of jogging shorts and Lando’s hoodie from the previous night which was incredibly comfortable and even smelled like him.

You grabbed yourself a glass of water and sat down crisscrossed on a patio chair.

The morning was still a little fresh, the sun just barely leaking out from the horizon.

"Bit early, isn’t it?", a british accent spoke from behind you. You smiled before turning around to meet Lando’s sleepy eyes.

He stood in the doorway, long gray joggers and a black hoodie, similar to the one you were wearing. His curls were a mess on top of his head as he ruffled through them.

"I could say the same to you", you countered, making the boy smile. "I couldn’t sleep, still adjusting to the timezone", he told you, sitting down on the chair next to you.

You nodded in agreement. "Me too."

For a moment you sat in silence, both looking at the sunrise in front of you.

"You wanna go for a walk at the beach?", Lando suggested after a few minutes, looking over at you.

You considered your options for a second but didn’t see a reason not to, so you nodded and stood up.

You put your glass on the table and your phone in the hoodie pocket.

Together you took the small path that directly led from Daniel’s backyard to the beach.

"Nice hoodie by the way", Lando smirked, tugging at your sleeves. "Thanks, some random guy gave it to me last night", you replied with a giggle. "And you just take stuff from random dudes?", Lando faked a shocked tone. "Nah, only if they are cute", you smiled, making Lando go a little shy as he looked down with a smile.

When the you reached the beach, you stopped in your tracks. Closing your eyes and enjoying the breeze of the ocean.

"I’ve missed this", you muttered, taking a deep breath before opening your eyes to find Lando looking at you. "Los Angeles just isn’t quite the same."

"You said you grew up between LA and Canberra", Lando stated, whereupon you nodded. "How did you meet Oscar then? Because as far as I know he’s spent most of his teens in England. Or Daniel, who’s from the other side of the country", he asked.

"Well, Daniel I met through Red Bull. My dad used to work for them", you replied, careful as not to reveal too much. "At base?"

"Something like this, yeah."

"He’s been like an older brother to me for the longest time but Oscar being closer to me in age, resulted in us turning out like twins", you chuckled.

Lando felt a sting of jealousy when you talked about his teammate like that, knowing he had close to zero rights to feel this way but still.

"Anyway, I met him in the paddock a few years ago and we’ve been friends ever since", you concluded.

"And you’ve been into racing because of your dad?", he asked. You nodded but didn’t clarify further but instead grabbed his hand and dragged him to the ocean.

"Cmon, let’s go in", you called. "Go in??", Lando protested but let you drag him closer to the water. "It’s Australia, it’s warm", you giggled and kicked off your shoes off your feet. You let go of Lando’s hand and entered the water ankle-deep.

You looked back to see Lando taking off his shoes as well as his hoodie, leaving him in a white shirt. Then he carefully tapped the water before walking to you.

"Nice, huh?", you smiled against the rising sun, closing your eyes for a second.

Cold water splashing your back made you scream and open them again. You turned around to find Lando with a devilish grin looking at you. "Lando!!", you called and splashed the water back at him.

In only a few seconds it turned into a water war, both your clothes turning darker from the water splashes on them. Your eyes stopped at Lando’s torso, the water turning his white shirt see through. And you weren’t ashamed to admit that his defined abs distracted you just more than a little bit.

Lando used your little moment of distraction to launch himself at you and throw both of you down into the water completely. You gasped for air, his arms still wrapped around your body and you hair falling in wet strands on your face.

"Idiot!", you called, pushing your hair back to see Lando grin at you. His adorable smile, paired with the wetness of his curls made you smile as well. You put your hand on his neck, slowly pulling him closer to you.

A drop of water falling from his opened lips, mesmerizing you completely. Lando’s eyes searched yours, asking for permission to go ahead. You glance back down to his lips before nodding slightly.

Only seconds later, his lips touched yours in a gentle kiss. Your fingers went through his wet hair and pulled at the end.

His lips on yours felt like fire, and you wanted more.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, his hand holding your thigh as his other squeezed your waist. His lips slowly traveled along your jaw, making you lean your head to the side to give him more space.

You let out a little moan when he gently sucked on the spot under your ear and felt his lips curl into a smirk. Lando pulled back to look at you, your fingers stroking his neck.

You giggled slightly and leaned your forehead against his, closing your eyes for a second.

This is what happiness feels like, you thought.

📍Perth, Australia

tagged: landonorris, danielricciardo, heidiberger

yn.adams: Perth for the week

comments:

landonorris: Oh, what a pretty sunrise

> yn.adams: U think?

danielricciardo: When was that first picture taken???

> yn.adams: Today morning at about 5:30am while u were peacefully sleeping

> fan: Wait so if Daniel didn’t take that picture does that mean it was Lando???

oscarpiastri: 🤨

> fan: Oscar’s NOT a fan of this new friendship LMAO

fan: The boyfriend vibes are MAJOR on that last picture

fan: Since when are her and Lando friends???

fan: Okay but Yn and Lando would be crazy!!

> fan: I ship it, 100%

load more comments…

📍Perth, Australia

tagged: yn.adams

landonorris: She can sing and drive

comments:

yn.adams: 2:1 for me, u can only drive

> landonorris: 🥲

> fan: LMAOOO Yn roasting Lando hahahahh

oscarpiastri: yn.adams TEXT ME NOW!!

> fan: Poor guy’s feeling left out fr

fan: Is this a soft launch mr. norriz?

> fan: wdym "soft" HE TAGGED HER!!!

fan: The sunrise…

> fan: Nah u guys don’t understand the significance of that sunrise!!

fan: Lando and Yn posting pictures of sunrises… A picture of Yn that Daniel didn’t take…

> fan: New paddock couple alert??

fan: Lando letting someone else drive and playing passenger princess???

fan: Who even is she?

fan: Does she even know what F1 is?

> fan: LMAOO

load more comments…

taglist

Please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist or text be if you want to be taken off x

@im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @hungryhungariann @ohthemisssery @kenopsiababe @sawendel @enjoymyloves @ricsaigaslec @ravenqueen27 @temqr1 @leclerc16s @theamazingsimplethings-blog @coldmuffinbanditshoe @hotchnisscm97 @moneymasnn @justme2042 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @pleasantducktimetravel @anthonykatebridgerton @lisannehus @hannahholland1811 @lighttsoutlewis @mydutchproblem @dan3avocado @alwaysclassyeagle @cocomiracle @allthisfortommy @soleilgrec @cheeryara-blog @person2345-blog @aquamariene-me @judespoision @sbgal @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @flower-name @mehrmonga @paolexsstuff @kiskso @honethatty12 @namgification @champagneproblems17 @meko-mt @scopeiguess @bwormie @d3kstar @c-losur3 @lupitakapro @endlesssummer10

#lando norris #f1 #mclaren #oscar piastri #daniel ricciardo #mark webber #ln4 #quadrant #landoscar #dando #landan #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris one shot #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

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ceruleancattail · 7 months

Note

If reqs are still open could I get the basketball club boys with reader who likes to fall asleep/lay on their chest? Totally fine if not, thanks!

Ace, Jamil and Floyd with a s/o who likes to fall asleep on their chest

Ace x reader, Jamil x reader, Floyd x reader

Ace’s a stuttering mess.

A blush coating his cheeks, scarlet blooming on his skin. Vibrant flowers that spread to both his ears in turn. His mouth falls open, lips fumbling around desperately. Trying to form words, but the letters all fall off the tip of his tongue, emotions running free.

How could he even speak? There were no words in language to describe the pure bliss flowing through his veins. You, leaning against his chest. Hand clutching at his uniform loosely, mouth just ever so slightly open…

He’ll be stock still for a few moments, before a trembling hand reaches for your sleeping form. Gingerly wrapping his arm around you, a casual embrace. One he’ll explain off with a shrug and a laugh if anyone asked.

“They just took a nap right here. Crazy, right?”

Boyish bluster, typical of Ace. Yet no amount of his excuse could explain away the sappy smile playing on his lips whenever Ace looked at you.

If you wake up, the first thing you’ll see is Ace’s smirk, dripping with smugness. Arms tugging you back to his embrace, laughing all the way. He’ll ask if you had sweet dreams, jabbing your cheek playfully. Well, with the way you were drooling all over his chest, you had a great nap.

Isn’t Ace just the best pillow?

Feel free to come to him anytime, yeah?

Jamil sighs.

Honestly, couldn’t you find a better place to take a nap? He’ll chide you under his breath, words as soft as spring’s gentle breeze. Shaking his head, tutting his disapproval.

Of course, his arms are snaking around your torso, bringing you closer to him. For all his exasperation, Jamil just can’t find it in his heart to wake you. Not when you’re lying right in his chest, every breath coming out in little puffs. They waft against his skin, warmth lingering like feather light kisses.

Gently, he’ll lift you up. Placing you on his lap, head resting against his collarbone. Jamil’s hands rest on your back, palms flat against your skin. Moving in ceaseless circles, rubbing your back for the sake of having something to do.

He isn’t too used to staying idle for long.

Although he has to admit, a break like this isn’t too bad once in awhile. Especially if you’re here, all curled up against his. It isn’t too bad, feeling your warmth melt against his, heartbeats slowing until they beat in sync. Beat as one.

Even if you wake up, Jamil just might feign sleep. Head leaning into the crook of your shoulders, arms reluctant to let go of your torso. A faint pink tinging his cheeks, a soft little whisper slipping out of his lips.

A little longer, please, love.

Floyd has to stop himself from laughing.

You’re rather brave, aren’t you? Letting your guard down right in front of him like that. Dropping onto his chest, dozing away. Cheek pressing into his chest, soft like dough. Your eyelids squeezed shut, every breath wafting against Floyd’s skin. Like the gentle caress of the sea, lapping against the shore.

Aren’t you just the cutest little thing, shrimpy?

Floyd immediately wraps you in his arms, yanking you closer to him. Plopping you right on his lap, cradling you in his embrace. Maybe he’ll sneak in a squeeze or two, giving you a tight little hug. Anything to feel you closer to his body. To feel your warmth bleed into his skin. Almost the heat of a roaring fireplace, illuminating the depths of his heart.

He leans over you, engulfing you in his lanky frame. Wrapping around you protectively, a passionate embrace. He never takes his eyes off your sleeping form, finger poking at your nose teasingly. The way you scrunch it up is so fun to watch.

Floyd pokes and prods, chuckling at your unconscious reactions. Of course, he’ll never wake you. Not intentionally, anyways.

How could you blame him?

You look adorable in his arms.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ace x reader #twst ace #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #Jamil viper #Jamil x reader #Jamil #Jamil viper x reader #Floyd leech #Floyd leech x reader #Floyd #Floyd x reader #lucky potion 🔷

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bi-writes · 3 months

Text

thinking about crushing on johnny and not realizing you needed permission to approach him. (18+, dark content)

you haven't seen him here before. he's new, and he's fucking beautiful, and you wish he would just look over here so you can find out what he looks like when he undresses you with those blue eyes.

he's hunched over a pint in the back, and he laughs with friends of his. when he smiles, you lean over, resting your chin in your hand when you admire his wide smile and nice teeth. he hasn't shaved today, but the five o'clock shadow suits his pretty face. you want to reach over and run your fingers over the curls of his dark hair that fall over his face. his hairstyle is a little grown out, but the sides have been kept short, with the longer pieces falling over the back of his neck and along his forehead effortless.

he probably rolled out of bed to come here, and he still looks good enough that you want to take pictures of him like this. you want to know what it feels like to kiss him. you want to cup those plump cheeks and kiss his soft mouth, and just hearing his laugh even from this far away, you know he's full of life and fun and--fuck.

you need to go over there before he leaves. before you regret it.

you slip off the barstool that you were seated at, brushing off the front of your jeans. you fix the straps of your bra, satisfied with the bounce of your tits on display, and when you look up again, he's looking at you.

those blue eyes are trained right on your figure, and you suck in a breath when you see his gaze drop, moving up, lingering on your hips and the way your cleavage looks in that shirt before settling back on your face.

he grins, right at you, wide and knowing, and you swallow hard when he winks. he picks up his drink and takes a long sip, and you're transfixed on watching him swallow and the bob of his adam's apple when you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight--someone's behind me.

you jump a little when someone hums behind you. a voice you don't recognize, a stranger, but you can feel the warmth of them at your back, and it unnerves that they remain utterly silent for a few agonizing moments.

you see blue eyes watching, looking over your shoulder, and you think maybe he knows you're uncomfortable, that he'll do the gentlemanly thing and come to your rescue--please come help me--but instead he sees something, and something flashes in his eyes. he looks, suddenly, like a puppy being scolded, and there's a pout on his lips as he averts his gaze to his drink and turns his body just that much away from you.

"y'like johnny, luv?"

you turn sharply, stepping back, and you nearly trip into the chair at your side when you see what's behind you. a hulking, masked man, large and imposing, staring down at you with his eyes narrowed accusingly.

he's wide. broad shouldered and tall, and even though he wears layers that cover what you guess are solid muscle hardened by laborious work, he is not made any smaller. all you can see of him are his dark eyes, but even those are terrifying because there is nothing in them at all.

you wonder, for a moment, if maybe he's not real. you have to be seeing something made up. a phantom. some kind of ghost.

you steel yourself after the initial surprise, and then you frown. your voice is a little shaky, but you say with as much force as you can, "excuse me?"

the narrow of his eyes softens just a bit. he tilts his head to the side as he looks down at you, and even though his eyes only flicker once, you know his gaze dropped. he takes a peek down your shirt, and you want to roll your eyes.

ghost or not, all men are the same.

"johnny." he nods his head behind you, and when you look back, the pretty one is looking at you, soft eyes shining as he stares at the pair at a distance to him. you notice his foot tapping on the floor, his leg shaking a bit. he's fidgety, nervous maybe, but you don't know why. you turn back around and face the big man again.

"do you know each other?" you ask, raising a brow. you don't know this man, either of them, but it strikes something sour in your mouth at the thought of some man trying to keep you from another--fucking strangers, playing hot potato with a woman? gross.

he snorts, and his shoulders shake a little, as if he laughs. "could say tha'," he murmurs, glaring right down at you, taking a step closer. you move your head back, feeling cornered, but you try not to panic. the bar is full of patrons, the music is lively--even someone as terrifying as this one wouldn't try anything with a room of witnesses, would he?

"look, i don't--"

"think he fancies you, too, sweetheart." his voice is so gravelly, deep, he's saying it with the low of his chest. and you can't tell if he sounds jealous or curious or excited, because he keeps his emotions in check, but at the thought of that pretty boy liking you, you keen. you turn your head again to look at him, catching his blue eyes again, and you smile. all glittery, all soft, and he smiles back, and you want to bounce on your feet.

your head turns back quick when you feel warm hands on your face. your giant has put a few of his fingers on your chin, and he turns your head back to face him, clicking his tongue.

"don't look at him, look at me," he mutters. you blink, not sure how to decipher his mood, and he steps even closer, leaning into your space. "johnny's mine."

your heart drops in your chest. you swallow hard, and you blink again, and you know your eyes are glossy from embarrassment and shame. of course this pretty man is taken--of course he is. it isn't fair, and it upsets you, but your lip trembles a little.

"fuck, i--" you gasp a little. "fuck, i-i'm sorry. i didn't..." you bite your lip. "i-i swear, i-i--"

"johnny's mine," he growls, and you tense when you feel the warmth of his breath through the mask, against your mouth. "and 'm not one to share. but johnny's been such a good boy..." your eyes flutter a little when his hand falls from your chin, smoothing over the soft skin of your neck as he grips you there gently. he clicks his tongue when you lean into him, almost instinctively. "'n you're a pretty prize. just how he likes 'em."

"huh?"

"all soft...such a nice arse," he sucks on his teeth, humming. "can see your tits so nice, luv. wanna see more of 'em."

your eyes widen, and he laughs, and it's insane and cruel, but your legs come together anyways, and you squeeze them there. you're wet. you know you are.

"he likes a sweet pussy, too, luv, got one of those?" he's closer now, growling into your ear, and you close your eyes.

"i-i...i--"

"fuck, haven't even gotten you home, and you're already so dumb," he mutters. he lets go of you, gripping you by the shoulders and turning you around. you stumble in your boots, swallowing, in a daze, and he urges you forward. "go on. sit next to johnny, sweetheart."

your legs move on autopilot, and you shuffle your way over to the table, and as you get closer, the chatter quiets just a little. johnny perks up a little when he sees you, and he moves over in the booth, giving you room, and you greet the table a little shyly before taking a seat. johnny is warm, too, radiating triumph. you smile wide, but just as you get comfortable, big hands grip your waist and lift you. you squeak as you're seated right on your giant's lap, your legs bracketing his big thigh as your back sits flush against his chest.

"got yourself a bird there, ghost?" one of them chuckles. he's stunning, all dark-skinned and wide smiles, and you know he must be their good friend because he doesn't question the way ghost has simply carried you there, sat you down with them, when supposedly he was already with someone else.

ghost hums, and you suck in a sharp breath when his hand wraps around your waist and tugs, forcing your ass right up against his middle. you put your hand over his, your fingers stroking the back of his hand. this isn't right, you know it isn't, but something feels good about it. you're normally worried about being too big to sit on anyone's lap, but he's a fucking bear, and you know he can take it.

you know he can take it.

"you like it, johnny? like what i brought you?" ghost asks, and he asks it like you're not there. you turn your head, and your eyes linger on the way ghost has his arm strewn along the edge of the booth behind him, around his shoulders. his gloved hand reaches up, and you swallow when you notice him playing with the ends of johnny's hair, the curls you know are soft, that would be nice to tug on. johnny smiles, and you see him up close now, and his lips are soft--and by the look on his face, he does like them sweet, and you know he eats pussy like they're last meals.

you know he does.

you hold in a soft sound when you feel a warm hand on your thigh, wrapping around the meat of it and squeezing.

"ohh, i like 'er, LT. like 'er a lot."

next part

#whats wrong with me LMAO #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost x you #john soap mactavish #simon thoughts #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #dark!simon #dark!soap

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1644s · 1 month

Text

trust me, I’ve got nothing for you other than love

warnings/tags: minors DNI, 18+, dark themes, implied babytrapping, woc!reader, mafia!AU (background), arranged marriage!AU, pregnancy, lovesick!lando, reader is on birth control but is she really?, manipulation, gaslighting, obsession, possessive behavior, dark!lando, these tags are not exhaustive

wc: 5.3k (what happened here...)

summary: Your marriage vows are til death do you part but Lando sees no harm in ensuring your forever is, well, forever.

dividers by @/cafekitsune :)

unedited, unbeta'd, etc. this was supposed to be maybe 2k but...here we are... anyway! there's a bigger background plot going on but I cannot be bothered to expand on it aldkjfas please let me know your thoughts and happy reading!!

also! sinha = lion in bengali :)

“You just have to meet him, sinha.”

Through the grainy FaceTime call, your mother’s patient expression holds a touch of exasperation. She’s not scolding you but it’s a close call.

“No expectations?”

She shakes her head. “No expectations,” she promises and then she softens. She looks less like the wife of a criminal and more like your mom. “If you don’t like him—”

“Let me know what day he is free and I’ll clear up my schedule,” you interrupt, unable to bear listening to platitudes. It doesn’t matter if you like or dislike Lando Norris. Your father needs his family’s power and resources. This is a formality for your sake.

There are no expectations because this isn’t a choice.

You make a show of looking away from the camera as if being called and then look back at her with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, I have to go. Someone’s at the door.” Your mother tries to say something else but you interrupt her with a hurried, “Love you! Bye.”

The call cuts. Your mother’s disappointed face lingers for a moment longer and then the screen fades to black.

Breathing out a heavy sigh, you rub at your face. Your parents have a way of forcing your hand and making it seem as if they are doing you a favor.

Objectively, Lando is nice. There is little overlap between your circle of friends and his but there is overlap and it lies with Carlos Sainz Jr.

Carlos has had nothing but good things to say about Lando when the topic is broached.

“A little immature but it is to be expected,” he laughed, wine sloshing in his glass. “He’s annoying. Like a little younger brother.”

That glowing review is all you have to go off of until Xavier comes back from his recon mission. You don’t think following Lando around with a camera necessitates such a dramatic title but it is not your opinion they ask for.

You’ve heard of what he is capable of but it is not the red flag it should be. Perhaps it is misguided and shockingly insensitive of you, but you care more if he will be a good person to you. You don’t need his affection but you do need his respect. And with that, you’ll need him to care about you enough to want to keep you safe. A man who feels obligated to keep you safe is not one you want.

Your phone pings. The screen lights up with a message from your father.

Clear your schedule for next Saturday. Wear something nice. Details to come.

Your spoon is halfway out of your mouth when Lando sits across from you.

His hair is perfectly styled to look effortless. A stray curl hangs down his forehead and only adds to his boyish charm.

He grins at you, eyes bright and shoulders relaxed. A backpack is slung over his shoulder and he’s wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants. They are of good quality but the lack of suit emphasizes his youth.

You’re suddenly struck by how young the two of you must look. It will be many years before Lando is expected to take over his father’s position but looking at him now, you can’t imagine such a situation. You know better, though, given his reputation.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

It’s so ridiculous it makes you laugh. “You really know how to keep a girl waiting, huh?” you say, more amused than not.

He’s fifteen minutes late but you don’t mind. Tardiness is the last thing you worry about in a partner. His body count, for example, is a more pressing matter.

The illegal one that is.

“I see you’ve gotten some food though,” he says, nodding towards the parfait you ordered. “Care to share?”

You offer him your spoon and when he reaches out, you pull your hand back. “Any allergies?”

He leans over the table and grabs your wrist. Dipping his head down, he takes a bite. “None,” he says around the granola.

You make a noncommittal noise. So far, he matches what Xavier’s detailed about him. There’s an easy going air about him which loosens the tension in your muscles. However, as much as you’d like this to be a normal introduction, you and Lando are working on borrowed time. So you’ll need to speed this along.

A litmus test might do the trick.

“Alright, let me see it.”

His smile disappears. “See what?”

“The file you have on me.”

He props his head with his hand. He’s careful as he says, “I don’t have a file on you.”

Leaning back into your chair, you cross your arms over your chest. You let the silence stretch between the two of you as you appraise him. When he continues to maintain his confused look, you sigh. It is foolish of you to think Lando will be honest. Honesty has no place for a marriage such as the one you will have with him.

“Okay,” you say simply. You tap your fingers against the table, a quick three beat tune before you give him a singular nod. “Let me know when and where to show up for our wedding. I’m impartial to a courthouse wedding but,” and you shrug, “It’s up to you.”

He straightens up. There’s a predatory stillness to him. “That’s it?”

You reach for your bag. He’s rented out the entire restaurant for the two of you so you’re sure the wait staff are being paid an exorbitant wage today. But it won’t hurt to leave a good impression in case you find yourself back here. You peruse your wallet, thankful you remembered to bring cash with you. “Yeah. Sorry to waste your time.” You’re perfunctory if not a little clipped with your response.

You think you’ll grab some lunch on the way back. The parfait, while good, only served to whet your appetite.

“Hold on.”

You can’t help but glance at your watch but you wait patiently as he gathers his thoughts.

“Why go through all this fuss?” Lando twirls his finger. “If you are leaving within—“ He looks at his watch and clicks his tongue, “Ten minutes?”

“I’ve been here for half an hour,” you remind him coolly. He winces but still offers no excuses nor an explanation for his lateness, so you steamroll ahead. “And if you’re willing to lie to me about something we both know is true,” you spread your hands out helplessly, “Then why bother with this? I’m sure my parents told you they set this up to appease me and you know what? Consider me appeased.”

He mouths appeased silently to himself. “You’re mad because you think I lied?” he clarifies, furrowing his brows.

“I’m mad because you are lying,” you correct icily.

“You really think I’d lay all my cards on the table so easily?”

“A file is all your cards?” you challenge.

His jaw locks. “No.”

You decide to cut him some slack. You dig through your purse and produce a folded stack of papers. Your parents were able to pull a sizable amount of information on Lando. It is supposed to remain confidential but this is your future marriage after all. You will be the one dealing with the Norris’, and Lando in particular, not them. You were rereading them up until you ordered and you presume Lando was doing the same given how last second this meeting is.

“I don’t want there to be an uneven playing field,” you say, waving the papers. “I want us to have a clean start.” Then you grimace. “As clean of a start as we can,” you amend.

He eyes the manilla folder. It’s fairly thick and you’re sure your color-coded tabbing only makes it more enticing. Lando kisses his teeth before reaching into his own backpack and pulling out a file. It’s much slimmer than the one you have on him.

You itch to reach over and take it but you restrain yourself. Placing your elbows over Lando’s file, you balance your head on one of your hands, mirroring his earlier lackadaisical pose. “So, is orange really your favorite color?”

“They have that in your file?”

He’s torn between being impressed and incredulous. It makes you wonder what they’ve managed to find on you.

You pull out a photo from your file. Flipping it over, you show him at a random dinner a couple weeks ago. You still don’t know how Xavier managed an invite to such a close-knit dinner but you suppose it’s best to not ask questions. “No. You just wear a lot of orange.”

He tries to snatch the photo out of your grasp but you quickly tuck it back into its place. “You have pictures of me?”

“I’ll show you mind if you show me yours.”

He rewards you with a laugh. “Yeah, s’fair.”

You pass over some of your photos and Lando does the same. You’re mildly terrified of how many Lando hands to you but he does not share the same reservations.

Lando flips through the photos. He keeps his expression neutral, betraying nothing as he sees how he’s been tailed without his knowledge.

“Do you have a favorite?”

You take a second too long to answer. “…Yes.” A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth but you refuse to let him embarrass you. “Do you have one?”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he mocks. Without needing to sort through your pile, he reaches over and takes the one off the top. He places it flat down in front of you, waggling his eyebrows as he does so.

You motion for him to hand you the ones he’s holding and he obliges. It takes a short amount of time even with your feigned studying of the pictures to pick one out.

All of them vary in degrees of how off guard Lando looks but this one in particular looks as if it is any run of the mill day for him. He’s laughing, fingers digging into his friend’s arm for balance. His eyes are crinkled and there’s a lightness to him that seems as if it’s attached to him at all times.

You swallow. Heat begins to collect underneath your cheeks. You hope Lando does not realize how much this photo flays you open.

You slide across the table, face down as well, and wait for him.

“On three?” he suggests.

You can’t look at him. You’ve accidentally laid your heart on a platter and now you must let Lando decide if it’s worth devouring. “On three.”

“One…two…”

You don’t know what you were expecting but you do know it is not this.

“Oh my god,” you groan, cheeks warm for an entirely different reason now.

You’re lounging by the pool in an outfit that is appropriate when you think you’re not being photographed by a random man’s family. You’re shading your eyes with your hand, mouth in a pout as you consider someone in the distance. Odds are, you were arguing with your friend Hiba about something stupid.

However, discomfort soon replaces the embarrassment seeping into your skin as you make a mental check of when you last hung out with Hiba by the pool. That had been…months ago. Your parents had made it seem as if this arrangement was a recent idea and not one they’ve been concocting for months.

Your vision flickers for a moment as your blood rushes to your head. At least they decided against springing a surprise wedding upon you, you suppose. It can always be worse.

Lando lingers on his photo and then puts it down. “So lying is a big deal to you.” He frames it as a statement and yet, he glances up at you through his lashes. His bottom lip is tucked beneath his top teeth.

You thumb your stack of photos, hesitant to see the images that have created the baseline of Lando’s perception of you. A sharp pain flares at the corner of your thumb. Blood is smeared across the white edges of the photos. You press your tongue against the paper cut to stave off the pain. Lando follows the quick flick of your tongue.

“It can be,” you admit. You are many things but you are not unrealistic. There will be things Lando must keep from you, husband or not, for your safety and his. But you don’t think it to be too tall an ask for some modicum of honesty to be what the both of you default to. “I want to trust you. And I want you to trust me.”

“So you’ll be willing to divulge all of your family’s secrets then?” Steel underlays the playful tease in his voice.

You keep yourself from rolling your eyes but it’s a near thing. He is so dramatic. “You will be my family when we’re married.” An emotion you can’t place flits across his face. Filing it away for later, you point at him. “And you lied about something easy to disprove. I’d rather us not act like we’re strangers when I practically have a minor in Lando Norris and vice versa.”

He nibbles the granola from your yogurt. “A minor, huh? You’re that confident?”

You tilt your head. “Should I have booked a seafood restaurant instead for dinner then? I heard Mariana’s does an excellent salmon.”

“Ugh, no. They got that correct.”

You share a smile with him. The tension cracks, giving the two of you breathing room. “Look, I’m not asking for full discretion for the…unsavory parts. Just you know.” You shrug.

“A partnership,” he supplies.

You make a so-so motion with your hand. “Is that what we want to call it?”

“Well, I’m a bit of a romantic so…” His voice trails off suggestively. But the brightness in his eyes lets you know he’s mostly kidding.

You bite the bait he’s hanging so lowly in your face. Compromise is one of the commandments of marriage, right? “Oh, are you now?”

He nods slowly. He finishes off the parfait and now points the smeared spoon at you. “Just you wait.”

“Alright Romeo, let’s start with a date first,” you say, unable to keep from smiling. “I promised you that much, didn’t I?”

He slaps his hands against his thighs. “That you did. Steak wasn’t it?”

You make a face. “Boring but yes. Short notice and all.” You drop a couple bills onto the table before slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Ready to sweep me off my feet?”

“Born ready,” he drawls, standing up.

You don’t miss the flash of silver at his waist. The sweatpants don’t do a good job of hiding what’s hidden there but maybe that is the point.

He catches your wandering eye and extends a hand towards you. His fingers are callused and rough but it’s soothing to you. You’ve never known a soft touch in your life and Lando is no exception.

“I take care of what’s mine,” Lando assures you. “You won’t have to worry about a thing with me.”

His smile is all teeth.

It’s overwhelming to be the object of Lando’s desire you come to find out.

“Lando, not here,” you breathe, eyeing his closed but unlocked office door. His lips drag across your throat, open-mouthed and with a hint of teeth.

“I’m a newlywed I think I can be forgiven,” he says, rucking your dress up higher on your body. The edge of his desk digs into your thighs but you hardly notice as Lando traces his nose down your hammering pulse. “Or did you wear this—“ His fingers stop crawling around your hips when he realizes there is no scrap of fabric lying against your skin. He runs his hand over your smooth skin again as if to do a sanity check. “Oh, you’re such a tease.”

He looks up at you through heavily lidded eyes and you grin. With how voracious Lando’s appetite for you is, you didn’t think underwear was worth the chance he might ruin another pair of panties. You’re still mourning that hot pink set he ripped with his teeth.

“Didn’t feel like leaving you something to remember me by this time,” you quip, spreading your legs.

Lando groans, sliding his hand down your thigh until his fingers brush against you. “Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” he says raggedly. He nips at your throat, the bite sharp enough to leave the imprint of teeth. The pain dissolves as the fever in your blood heightens. He soothes the faint sting with a wet kiss, apologetic and unrepentant at the same time.

He sinks two demanding fingers into you with ease. You turn your face into his bicep, trying to keep yourself from gasping too loudly. Your teeth dig into the fabric as his fingers curl up, nudging a spot inside that heats your blood to an inferno. You whimper, urging him closer. Lust clouds your senses and makes his teasing touches torturous.

He drags his thumb across your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure cascading down your spine. The muscles in your thighs tighten and your knee hitches up to his side.

Lando huffs a laugh, blowing cool air against your sweaty skin. “Thought you didn’t want this,” he mocks.

“I changed my mind,” you say. Unbuckling his belt, you try to shove his pants down. An impatient whine accompanies you when he doesn’t make it easier for you. “Hurry up.”

He kisses his way down from your jaw to your chest, ignoring how you plead with him. His lips skate across your nipples, tongue darting out to circle them briefly before he drags that same traitorous tongue up the line of your chest.

“Stop being mean,” you whine, trying to push his head off of you.

“You like when I’m mean.” But he acquiesces, shoving down his pants.

The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and your stomach twists. The smooth head rubbing against your cunt has you faltering, reminding you of where you are. You almost want to tell Lando to wait but then he’s hiking your leg over his hip as he sinks into you.

A gasp is punched out of you as he stretches you around his cock. He doesn’t give you time to adjust, instead, choosing to press himself into you even further, reaching somewhere in you you didn’t even know existed.

Lando drives into you, his pace so rough that you can hardly catch your breath.

You moan, a broken guttural sound that Lando swallows greedily.

“You don’t want the others to hear, hmm?” he whispers against your ear. His fingers trail over you, featherlight and too much on your oversensitive skin. Yet, you arch into the touch anyway.

Warmth begins to build up in your belly and you feel it down to your toes. Lando slides his hands underneath your hips and yanks you forward, forcing you to take him down to the hilt.

Tears blur your vision. Your blood pounds so loudly in your ears you no longer hear the muffled sounds of Lando’s business partners outside. A shuddering sob of Lando’s name escapes your lips.

“That’s it,” he croons. “Just like that.”

Lando rubs his thumb against your clit, synced with his thrusts. Before long, you’re tightening up and coming all over his cock.

He loses his rhythm as you whine against the sensitivity. With his chest pressed against you, you can feel all of him tense up. He jerks his hips into you shallowly one, two times before you feel the telltale warmth.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he mumbles, resting his head against your collarbone.

Lando lifts your hand and curls your fingers so he can press a kiss against your wedding ring. And you think, yeah, this is a man you can learn to love.

The two lines weren’t enough to convince you but the ‘pregnant’ staring up at you is harder to dismiss.

You still rub at your eyes, hoping once your vision clears again, you’ll see the ‘not’ that is surely hidden. You wait a few seconds until your eyes adjust and the result does not change.

An anxiety induced nausea begins to curdle the little food that is left in your stomach.

You’re pregnant.

You’ve only been married for six weeks.

There’s a knock on the door. “Babe? You okay?”

You can practically hear Lando making the mental decision not to jangle the door knob though you know it kills him not to. Instead, he leans against the door. The wood creaks underneath his weight.

Somehow, you wet your throat enough to not have your voice crack as you call out, “Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”

You put the pregnancy tests back into the box and shove it behind your pads underneath the sink. Carefully shutting the cabinet door, you stand up and wash your hands. Your motions are methodical as if it is someone else commandeering you to scrub at your hands and dry them on the towel.

You turn the door knob slowly, pushing the door outwards. Immediately, Lando gathers you into a hug when you step out.

“I missed you,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw.

You return his hug, perhaps squeezing him a little tighter than you usually do. “I missed you, too,” you say automatically. You’re still processing the two lines and the definitive pregnant you saw. If you had taken only one test, you could have convinced yourself it was a fluke. But two tests from two completely different companies would beg to differ.

“You okay?” he repeats, pulling back so he can look at you.

You don’t know how to lie to him so you say, “Just a little nauseous, that’s all.”

His attention sharpens. “Nauseous?”

“Mm hmm.” You try to duck underneath his arm but Lando holds you back.

“Hold on,” he cautions, running a critical eye over you. “For how long?”

You rack your brain for an evasive answer that will suffice but Lando is like a shark scenting blood in the water.

“How long?” he urges. There’s something wild lurking in his eyes. It cuts a serrated edge to his voice.

You won’t look at him. “I mean,” you hedge. “A while?”

That doesn’t cut it. “How long is a while?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t keeping count!” you snap, throwing your hands up in the air.

“A couple of days? A week? Weeks?”

“Lando.”

He tries to smooth out the impatience in his expression. “My love, please humor me. I’m worried.”

You take a breath and count to ten. Running your tongue over your teeth, you try to remember the first time you felt this bone deep nausea that made you want to take your stomach out of your body. “Five days,” you say. “Now, can we go eat dinner?”

You aren’t hungry in the slightest. But a chewing Lando means there won’t be a talking Lando and you will take your wins where you can get them.

He looks like he wants to continue this frankly riveting conversation but you pout. It works more times than it does not and right now is no exception. He kisses his teeth and mutters an agonized, “You’re unfair.”

You force yourself to eat dinner. Your nausea clogs your throat, making each bite a monumental task as you try and listen to Lando recount his day. The food is heavy in your stomach, a leaden weight that you are overly conscious about.

Lando slows down in his complaints about Carlos. He puts his fork to the side of his plate. You find it hard to hold his attention for long.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Smiling tightly, you nod. Saliva pools in your mouth and you pray you’ll last the five minutes needed for Lando to finish eating. “Just been a long day.”

He doesn’t believe you but he’s always indulged you so he swiftly moves onto discussing the rest of his day. You nod at all the right places and ask him follow up questions. Lando becomes so engrossed in picking at your brain that his suspicions are temporarily set aside.

It doesn’t take long for him to finish eating and for you to make your escape, citing a much needed shower as your reason. You rinse off quickly and run through your night routine before Lando can sneak in. You examine yourself in the mirror with every conceivable angle and find your stomach looks as it always does. Your pregnancy is in its early stages but somehow, you are fearful Lando will know by simply looking at your bare stomach.

He joins you while you finish brushing your teeth. There’s a disgruntled wrinkle to his brows and if you were in the right headspace, you might ask him what’s wrong.

He leans his hip against the door frame as he watches you apply your moisturizer. The wrinkle deepens.

“You feeling okay?”

The nausea has finally settled but your nerves have not. A staticky energy buzzes underneath your skin. “Yeah.”

It has only been two hours since you found out and you don’t think you can keep this to yourself for any longer. God, you guys haven’t even discussed kids yet. Lando deserves a proper announcement but you can’t do that when you don’t know if he even wants kids this early.

But waiting will do you no favors.

“Lando,” you say. Your throat strains and you feel the pinpricks of tears beginning to fill your lash line. “I need to tell you something.”

He tips your chin up. Worry darkens his eyes when he scans your sickly face. Whatever he’s searching for he does not find given by the flex of his cheek muscle. A specific type of misery replaces his worry and it makes your stomach tangle into a knot to know you’ve put such an expression on your husband’s face. “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t look like he’s keen on the answer but he smooths his hand over your jaw encouragingly. His shoulders straighten as if he wishes to brace himself.

“I’m pregnant.” The confession is clumsy on your too thick tongue.

For a moment, Lando doesn’t react. It’s as if the words have no meaning to him.

“You’re pregnant?” he breathes. Both his hands are placed against your cheeks, cupping your face gently. “You’ve taken a test?”

You nod, unable to speak. And then you hold up two fingers, hoping he understands.

“Both of them were positive?”

You nod again.

A bright grin spreads across his mouth. “I can’t believe it,” he murmurs, eyes dropping to your stomach.

“You’re not…upset?” you ask in a small voice.

He’s quick to snap his attention back to you. “Why would I be upset? Are you upset?”

You bite your lip. You haven’t given it much thought despite how you’ve spent the last hour on the brink of a panic attack. You want kids, that much has always been clear to you.

But you certainly hadn’t anticipated getting pregnant only weeks into your marriage to someone who is essentially a stranger. You like Lando, and in your private moments you can admit to yourself you will come to love him for who he is, but you don’t know Lando.

“No,” you say, testing how it makes you feel. It gives weight to the indecision warring within you so you try to remedy it by following up with, “It’s overwhelming.”

He strokes your cheekbone gently. “We’ll be okay. We’re probably better off than most.”

You cut him an irritated look. Your baby will be provided for but they will also be in danger for the unforeseeable future simply because of who their parents are.

It is something you’ve always known for your kids but you thought you would have more time to prepare for it.

He frowns. “Hey, you know I’d never let anything happen to you. Or our baby.”

“I know that. It’s just—“ You shrug helplessly. “It’s so soon, Lando. We barely know each other.”

He scoffs. “We know each other plenty. Our, uh, what did they call it?” He looks around as if the word will materialize in front of him.

“Courtship,” you offer, amused.

“Courtship! It was long. Longish,” he corrects sheepishly.

Considering how quickly both your families wish to secure this alliance, the period before your engagement was quite long. You’re reluctant to call it dating given that you and Lando knew exactly how it would end but it was a two month period you wouldn’t have been afforded if Lando hadn’t pushed for it.

He had been gracious with your hesitation, promising to go at your pace. For all of Lando’s lightheartedness, he had a maturity about him that surprised you. His patience endeared you to him and it didn’t take you long to stop pushing off the inevitable.

And now look at the two of you: married for six weeks with a baby on the way.

You think you are going to be sick and it has nothing to do with your pregnancy related nausea.

“How are you not freaking out?” You press your forehead against his shoulder.

Lando takes things on the chin. It’s something you admire and wish you could adopt into your own personality with equal finesse. Unfortunately, you are built to overthink and anticipate the worst case scenario.

“I don’t think it’s hit me yet,” he admits. “But when it does, I’ll still be just as happy. It’s me and you. We got this.”

Fear clings to you but it’s tempered by his confidence. “I’ll freak out for the both of us then.”

He laughs. The sound is pure sunshine amongst the doom and gloom you’ve held close to your chest the past few hours. “Don’t you always?”

You punch at his arm, if it can even be classified as that. He laughs again and lifts your head so he can kiss you. He’s smiling so much it’s hardly a kiss but it warms you all the same.

“Where are the pregnancy tests?” Lando asks when he pulls away.

“Behind the pads downstairs.”

His eyes widen. “That makes so much sense,” he says to himself. You look at him weirdly but he doesn’t notice. “Be right back.”

He’s out the door and down the stairs in a matter of seconds. You’d find it cute if he wasn’t literally going to go grab some sticks you peed on. But you also deprived him of finding out with you so you suppose it is cute.

You eye your box of birth control pills on the counter almost forlornly. You were supposed to start a new pack two days ago but with how severe your nausea has been, you didn’t bother taking them the last two days seeing as they would end up flushed down the toilet soon enough.

With a heavy sigh, you pick up the pack to throw it away. When your finger meets the frayed edge of the box, you pause.

You know you didn’t open this pack. You couldn’t have and yet, it pulls apart easily. Pushing the pack out of the box, your eyebrows creep to your hairline as you notice the first two days of pills are missing.

A hand disrupts your vision as Lando smoothly plucks the box out of your grasp and tosses it into the trash. You follow the box as it drops into the trash. The two punched out holes peek at you over the opened edge.

Unease knits itself across your heart. An unfamiliar tightness coils in your stomach, the sort that makes your blood curdle in your veins. Lando wouldn’t—he wouldn’t do this to you.

It would be much easier to convince yourself if a self-satisfied smile wasn’t currently curving Lando’s mouth.

“Guess we won’t be needing these anymore.”

this fic is finished. there won't be a part 2. thanks!

#Lando Norris #lando Norris x reader #Lando Norris x you #Lando Norris smut #formula 1 x you #Lando Norris imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smut #formula 1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smut #mafia!Lando Norris #dark fic #writing: lando Norris

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dumpywrites · 2 months

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Two Days - Jungkook

Summary: He just wants you to give him two days. He'll take you on a few dates and you'll decided if you actually like him? Or not?

Genre/tags: mostly fluff, tiny bit of angst, friends to lovers, biker jungkook, jungkook is a goofball and a simp! :)

Pairing: Jungkook x she/her reader

a/n: this is my first ever bts/jk fic, I'm just trying this out since i have some days off from work, hope y'all like it <3

“Please?”

“No.”

“You’re missing out.”

“Jungkook, we’re literally in a Burger King.”

You heard the man playfully saying, “Yes, and?” in a singing tone. All you could do was rolling your eyes in reply. Jeon Jungkook, this guy who had been begging you for his so-called masterplan that he called, “trial date” for weeks, was now yet again begging you for a chance.

You could not exactly pinpoint when it actually began. He was shy the first time you met. You had known the rest of the boys ever since you met Yoongi at an art class. The cold looking guy who was surprisingly friendly and soft-hearted, later on introduced you to the rest of the guys. Jungkook was introduced almost a year later into befriending the group. He was a guy who went to the same gym as Namjoon. They became friends ever since he offered Namjoon a ride one time.

Being the youngest amongst the guys and also the latest you got to meet, you would think that his shyness would linger at least a little bit longer. Then again, if you really think about it, he probably only stayed quiet and shy on the first meeting.

The idea of both of you together was never mentioned until recently. Namjoon was the one who started calling out Jungkook’s odd behavior towards you, but the nail on the coffin was when you all got drunk at Jimin’s house that one time.

It was Jimin’s birthday and truthfully, you knew the guy was loaded rich, but you did not know he was rich with capital R. The selection of bottles in his house was pretty much unlimited from the ones you like to the ones you couldn’t even name. It was five hours into all the celebration and you all were blurting nonsense. You were tipsy, but still aware cause for some reason you were winning all the games that night and got to drink less. But Jungkook on the other hand, who was usually winning everything, was getting pissy cause he kept coming second after you.

“This is unbelievable.” Jungkook groaned, casually throwing the boardgame cards on the table.

“You just have a soft spot for her.” Jin shrugged.

“I do not! I just have a crush on her.” Jungkook retorted back, as if his sentence made any sense.

You heard Hoseok voiced a small “oh” with his usual judgy expression, and the rest were silent for a second, including you.

“I mean…” Jungkook tried to correct himself but stopped mid-way, trying to make up words in his already drunk mind. His eyes went back and forth to everyone before he scoffed. “You all act so surprised, as if you didn’t tease me everyday right after the first time I met Y/N.”

When the room was still silent, Jungkook realized he fucked up, his blurry mind completely ignored the fact that you, the subject of this topic, was in fact also in the room.

“Shit.” Was all he muttered before he excused himself to the bathroom, and did not come out for twenty minutes.

When he was done, everyone had decided to wrap it up due to the awkwardness and the absence of Jungkook himself. He found Taehyung and Jin sleeping on both sides of Jimin’s big couch, and a small smile formed on his lips, shaking his head over the dumb expression they had in their sleep. His stomach soon flipped right after he saw you on the kitchen, making yourself a cup of instant noodle.

“Oh, hey.” You greeted awkwardly. “I got hungry from all that drinking.” You shyly mentioned.

Jungkook only nodded and took a seat on one of the dinning chairs.

“You want some?” You offered, trying to break the ice.

“Y/N stop.” His eyes widened once he realized how bad that sounded. “I mean… I didn’t mean it like that?” He chuckled dryly, it was more of a statement rather than a question.

When you kept quiet but sat down next to him regardless, and ate your noodles, he decided you were at least comfortable enough to hear him talk. “This whole huge crush on you thingy… that’s not gonna ruin our friendship or anything, right? If you’re uncomfortable I’ll just stop showing up when you’re around for a—”

“What?! No! Jungkook, I’m not uncomfortable.” You sighed. “I’m just a bit surprised, I guess.”

“Why though?” He asked innocently, his big doe eyes looking straight at you, making you slightly nervous.

“It’s just… you do realize you’re quite popular right?”

“What’s that gotta do with this situation?”

“I thought I wasn’t your type.”

“You don’t get to decide that.”

That was the last civil conversation you had with him until he decided it was a good idea to cling to you almost every single day, pestering on the idea of this whole trial dating. Everyone other than Yoongi, who was neutral (read: don't really care enough to actually voice an opinion at the moment), was pretty much on board with his plan. You being single for a year now definitely did not help your case. They kept saying that you needed to lit up your dating engine again, so it wouldn’t be rusty.

It was not that you did not find Jungkook attractive. Heck, he was one of the most attractive person you had ever laid your eyes on. It was just, weird? He felt like a brother, the same as the rest of the boys. If you didn’t treat any of them different, then you should not with Jungkook either, right?

“Have you maybe considered that maybe she’s tired of your bullshit?” Yoongi blurted with a blank expression, as he continue to munch on his burger.

“It’s only been two weeks.” Jungkook protested. “Besides, you never know 'till you try, right?” He winked at you.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m good, Kookie.” You pinched his cheeks, a little bit too hard.

“H-hey!” He pouted, his cheeks forming even rounder. “Two days! Two days!” He suddenly shouted.

“Oh boy…” Hoseok side-eyed the rest of you, clearly done with the younger one.

“Give me two days, Y/N!” He said with his two fingers right in front of your face. “You don’t have plans this weekend, right?”

“Hey, maybe—“ Namjoon didn’t even get to finish his sentence before the lad interrupted.

“I’ll take you on two dates and then you can decide afterwards.” He grinned, as if that was the most brilliant thing he had ever thought of. “If you still don’t like me after that then I will gracefully back off.” He threw his hands in the air.

“You promise?” You suddenly spoke, after being silent for a while.

“Wait, you’re actually considering—“ Jin stood up from his seat, almost knocking his table.

Jungkook hurriedly covered Jin’s mouth, not letting yet another man finish his sentence again. “I promise!” He saluted, grinning so hard his cheeks almost hurt.

“Are you really sure?” Yoongi whispered to you.

You only shrugged. Truthfully, you were not sure either. But at this point, you just wanted Jungkook to get over his girl hyperfixation of the month. Which was, you.

You just did not buy the story of him being head over heels on you since day one. As if he didn’t look like a Greek god himself? As if you did not know how women and even men would kill just to get a taste of him. You just wanted him to get it over with, so he can realize how weird the whole idea was and went back to being the goofball friend you once knew.

—

Right, so.

Now here you were, basically having a mini dress-up montage moment, picking an outfit for your cinema date. Even after spending almost an hour getting ready you ended up with just wearing your usual crop top and baggy jeans, hoping it will be fine. Clearly you didn’t wanna seem like a try-hard. It was just Jungkook. He had seen you with pajamas and you didn’t hear him complain, so there shouldn’t be a problem. Why did you even go through the trouble to pick an outfit? You wondered yourself.

Ten minutes later and Jungkook was already ringing your phone.

“I’m at your lobby!” He exclaimed loudly over the phone.

“You’re early.”

“Just can’t wait to see you.” You could not see his face, but you knew he was grinning like an idiot. “Hurry down! Oh, and bring your jacket.”

You didn’t expect him to came with a motorbike. A huge one not to mention. Something stirred in your stomach for a millisecond seeing him in a leather jacket.

He took a spare helmet and innocently handed it to you. “Gotta make sure my girl is safe.” He sheepishly said.

You tried your best to ignore the nickname, and spoke. “I didn’t know you ride a motorcycle.” You said, taking the helmet he gave in your hands.

“I’m just too lazy to drive sometimes so I just lift on Hobi’s car.” He shrugged. “Why? Are you scared?” He teased.

“Of course not.” You said and put on the helmet. You did not miss his small snickers when you struggle to hop on his Harley, having to grab him by his shoulders.

“Okay, just wanna let you know, I drive like suuuuuper fast. So, you have to hug me to be safe!” He giggled.

You rolled your eyes, even if he couldn’t see. “I’m just gonna head back upstairs...”

“Don’t be such a sourpuss.” He chuckled. “I’m a good driver, Namjoon approved! But you can grab onto my jacket if you want.”

—

The movie was great.

And that was a lie, cause truth to be told, you could barely focus on the plot. Every time you caught a glimpse of the boy next to you, his eyes were already looking at you. While it was true that you had not been dating for quite some time, you could feel your spidey-sense tingling, as if you were to turn your head towards him, something would happen. Thinking about it was not exactly the best thing for you.

“We’re getting ice cream.” Jungkook cheerfully said, as you both walked out the cinema.

“That’s not a question?” You couldn’t help but to smile at the silliness.

“Not a chance I’m letting you go home yet.”

“Is this a date or a kidnapping?”

“Could be both if you want.” He laughed. “So…” He cutely put his hands in his pockets as you walked.

“So?”

“So… how’s life?”

“You did not just ask me that.” You laughed.

“What? I’m just trying to make actual conversation!” He laughed as well, but later on his expression softened. “You seemed down these past couple of days though?”

You tilted your head slightly. You didn’t think he would notice.

“You… noticed?”

“Of course I did!” He grinned, patting his chest proudly. “You didn’t talk that much at our last movie night at Taehyung’s. You usually love to debate after watching a movie.” He chuckled. "The fact that you're not even starting a discussion right now, is lowkey concerning."

That was because of an entirely different thing, but you chose not to say. “I haven't even told Yoongi.”

“Even if you tell him, he wouldn’t tell anyone either, so what’s your point?”

“That’s fair.” You broke a small smile.

“What happened?” He stopped mid-track, suddenly losing a bit of confidence in his speaking tone. “I mean, only if you’re comfortable enough to tell me…”

Your expression softened. “It’s a bit stupid…”

“It’s okay, I’ll listen!” He nodded towards you. “I’ll just quickly grab those ice cream and we’ll sit down somewhere?”

Minutes later he came back with two ice creams and a big stupid grin plastered on his face as usual. “Here you go, let’s sit down on that bench.”

You nodded and thanked him before following him to the bench.

“Come sit close to me!” He patted right next to him. When you only looked at him blankly. He added, “Please?”

You sat down close to him but left a bit of space enough so that your shoulders wouldn’t touch.

“Are you cold?”

“Uh… no.”

“Okay, good.” He smiled and took a big bite of his ice cream. “So, do you still wanna tell me? Or we could also just sit and talk shit about Jin while we eat ice cream if you don’t want!”

You smiled. Looking into his eyes, you could feel his sincerity. It could be just you, but you felt somewhat… safe.

“I used to date this one guy… We dated for three months before I ended things with him.”

You looked up to Jungkook, expecting to see a negative expression but he remained silent, only nodding to signal you to continue.

“To be fair we haven’t been in touch for almost a year, but he suddenly called me. He was drunk and said a bunch of nonsense. I still replied at first, cause I was worried for his safety. But after I found out he was drunk at home, I bid my goodbye. Then he suddenly said…” You took a deep breath. “He said that I’m a 4.5 with a bitch attitude and being picky won’t help me.” You broke into a sad grin. “It’s stupid, I know—“

“Who is this fucker? Can I beat the shit outta him? How come I’ve never heard about this?!”

“Probably cause this is how you react.” You chuckled. “It had me quite bothered for quite sometime, maybe the fact that I also haven’t dated in a while adds to it, but I guess I feel somewhat better now.”

“So that’s why you said you thought you weren’t my type?”

“Huh?”

“That fucker needs to get his eyes and brain checked.” He shook his head. “You know, it’s fine to not want to settle for less.” He said as he looked at the sun setting in the sky. “He’s just butthurt you don’t want him back.”

You stayed silent but nodded.

“His dick’s probably small anyway.” When you slapped his arm, he laughed. “What? Am I wrong? Why did you even break up with him?”

“He's sexist!”

“And his dick is small.” He followed.

“Jungkook!” You began to laugh as well.

“You know you’re easily a ten, but I’ll give a nine for now.” He said, pretending to be serious with rubbing his chin and squinting his eyes.

“Why? What deduct the one point?”

“Cause you haven’t like me back yet.”

“God, make that at least five points then, I hate you.” You rolled your eyes, but laughed.

He smiled softly. “Feeling better?”

“Well, I guess? But now my ice cream's all melty.” You pouted, trying to lick some that was melting down the cone.

“That’s why you eat fast like me.” He proudly said.

“And have stomach problem? No thanks.”

“Here let me just…” He licked a stripe from your cone and took a big bite. “There.”

You were taken aback. So stunned that you could only blink a few times at him.

“What? Don’t tell me that turned you on?” He smirked.

“You… Jungkook, that’s gross!” You whined, which only resulted in his laughter.

—

The next day Jungkook wanted a full day date. Boy kept saying that he wanted fair chance since it was his last day. He already planned a list of things both of you would do and all, and the first being eating brunch with you.

“Do you really have to come this early?” You complained as you opened your apartment door for the guy.

When the said guy sheepishly didn’t move and enter, you raised one of your eyebrows. His hands were behind his back, clearly holding something, and you can see both of his arms flexed, seemingly grasping something tightly. You were searching for his boyish grin, but his expression seemed worried instead.

“I got you flowers.” He said, sounding discouraged.

“Oh?” You replied, but wondered why he just kept standing and not move.

“I found out last minute that you don’t like flowers…” He frowned. “Yoongi told me in the group chat after I got too excited and sent them a pic of the flowers I got you.”

He looked like a lost puppy, and suddenly you had the urge to hug him to ease all his pain away. You stopped yourself before the impulse got the best of you and you grabbed him by the forearm, dragging him inside and closing the door.

“You can’t stay in that position the whole day, you have to hand me the flowers.” You folded your arms, trying to hold in a chuckle.

“But you don’t like them!”

“I haven’t even seen them.”

He finally moved his hands and revealed a small bouquet of fresh daisies. It was a simple bouquet, nothing too extravagant with a brown wrapping paper. It somehow reminded you of his smile and how radiant he looked when he did so. Yes, you did not like flowers, they were unpractical, it felt like an unnecessary addition, a waste of space. But somehow you like it. It made you feel all warm and fuzzy and it was very pleasant. It made you wanna accept it with open arms. Truthfully, the description did not really feel like it was describing flowers anymore, but you decided to not further ponder on it.

“Thank you.” You took the flowers and sniffed it, before setting it down on your table.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know, I feel so dumb cause everyone knew already and—“

“Hey, we’ve only known each other for three months.” You assured. “Besides, it’s really not much of a big deal, I actually like them.”

“You do???”

“Yeah, they look pretty. I don’t know how long I can keep them looking like that though.”

“Oh my god…” He exhaled deeply. “I was so worried it would be a deal breaker or something. I was literally shaking!”

He laughed and showed his right hand in front of you, it was shaking slightly. You didn’t know why he laughed at it, you didn’t find it funny.

“It happens sometimes when I’m nervous.” He chuckled.

Instead of saying something, you took his hand into yours just by intuitive. It was impulsive, but you let go before he had the chance to intertwine his fingers with yours. He didn’t comment on your behavior, but a smile was still on his face as he waited for you to grab your things to go.

The brunch was on this small cafe near your place. You insisted on paying this time, since he paid for yesterday. The brunch was spent with him trying to sneakily hold your hand, but failed every single time.

Next activity on the list was buying clothes together. As cringey as that sounded, and you even almost opposed the idea, Jungkook said that he needed to buy new outfit and he wanted to hear your feedback. Plus, some of his clothes barely fit him anymore since he decided to become a gym rat.

“You actually look great in those skirt.”

“You’re joking.” You denied, but twirled around in front of the mirror anyway, while trying to convince yourself that you didn’t need the purchase.

“I’ll buy them for you if you won’t.”

“We didn’t have all those money-saving talk with Namjoon only for you to say that.” You folded your arms.

“Oh come on, you look great!” He pointed to you and his lips forming into a small pout. “Besides, we’re on a date today so I think that’s a pretty good excuse.”

“I thought we are here to help you buy some clothes, not buy me skirt that I probably won’t wear that often.”

“Let me spoil you for once… please?” He begged, eyes all sparkly. His lips shined along with his two lip piercings.

“Alright, fine... I’ll get the skirt, but!” You eyed him. “Only if you buy that straight-cut jeans you just tried before.”

“Deal.”

“That’s it? You’re not gonna argue on how those aren’t on trend anymore?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I was gonna buy them anyways. You were practically drooling when I showed you.” He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows playfully at you. “Kinda was just waiting for you to admit it…”

You only rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t open your lips to deny his words either.

After you changed back into your clothes and Jungkook paid for the purchases, he went back to you with a sly grin on his face and you immediately suspected something. He came back with a pair of matching string bracelet.

“You can just not wear them later if you don’t want to, but let me be delusional for today, okay?”

You both left the store after you let him put the bracelet on your wrist.

Next in line was spending time on a local amusement park. It was nothing too extreme, just a small carnival that has a few rides and snack booths. The guy kept insisting that you both should take a picture when the sun set.

“Cotton candy!” Jungkook sprinted to the booth like a hungry kid, his laughter could be heard even as him getting far from where you were standing.

You shook your head, smiling to yourself as you walked to his direction.

“Pink, blue, or green?”

“Blue, maybe?”

“Alright.” He grinned and paid the seller as they handed the blue cotton candy stick. “Why blue though?”

“Dunno, just kinda matches your outfit.”

“Sweetheart, I’m wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt.” He giggled.

Which should be a crime! Cause who even looks that good in a basic white t-shirt??? You thought to yourself. “Your jeans, I guess..?”

“If you say so.” He chuckled. “Wanna ride the ferris wheel?”

“Being in a such small space with you sounds dangerous.”

“I’ll protect you, babe.” He winked.

“The danger is you, babe.” You mocked.

He smirked, clearly amused. “Well, at least I got you to call me babe, that’s a win for me.”

“You’re anno— hmph!” He stuffed a ball of cotton candy in your mouth, laughing continuously at the sight.

After wandering around for a while and finishing the cotton candy, Jungkook dragged you to the shooting game. You refused, saying how you never really win these kind of games, but knowing him, losing was never really his thing. You saw how big the main prize was and you know Jungkook, you knew his ego, you knew damn well that was what he was aiming.

“If you’re aiming for that giant teddy bear, don’t. We can’t carry that thing around...”

“You can’t tell me what to do.” He didn’t listen and instead paid for the game tickets.

“We can’t carry that in your motorcycle, that’s like another passenger!”

“Just watch me.” He smirked, already aiming with the toy gun.

You rolled your eyes, there’s really no telling him on this. “Fine, whatever.”

After just two shots, you hear him jump in celebration, fist in the air and the staff rang the bell for him winning the price. You were ready to complain, but the staff handed you a small frog plushie instead. You looked at Jungkook and saw his boyish grin, his eyes almost turned into crescents. You looked back at the plushie in your hands and couldn’t lie to yourself, it was very adorable.

“You didn’t aim for the grand prize?”

“You told me not to.” He shrugged. “Plus, you like frogs, right?”

“Well…”

“I wished I took a picture of your expression when they handed you the plushie.” He laughed, a soft blush decorating his cheeks.

You finally agreed to ride the ferris wheel with him. The park was going to close in an hour anyway, and you thought why not, it wouldn’t hurt anyone to go for one ride.

You sat across him, hugging the frog plushie on your lap. It was silent for the first few minutes, but it was comfortable, not awkward. You were just looking at the view from above and silently admiring it.

“Did you have fun?” He asked. Suddenly your attention went back to him and his smile.

“Well, yeah… I did.” You nodded. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, I had fun too.” He smiled. “Everything’s fun with you though so I may be biased…”

You didn’t really know what to say to counter his words. You just smiled and went back to looking at the window.

“Mind if I sit next to you?”

“Uh… sure. Just be careful, you might tilt the cart.”

Jungkook carefully moved to sit next to you. He muttered a small “phew” as he sat down. “Wow, the view’s better here.” He said, looking straight at you.

“What do you mean? How—” And then it clicked to you. “Oh my god… shut up!” You hit his arm, and he laughed.

“Take my compliment for once!”

“Never.” You stuck your tongue out.

The ride soon came to an end. You remembered that you promised Jungkook to take a picture with the sunset, but out of nowhere it started to rain. Although it was just small drizzle, it’s hard to take picture and avoid getting soaked at the same time. You both ran to the nearest sheltered place, with Jungkook’s leather jacket covering both of you.

You said your sorry about his now wet jacket, but the boy did not seem to be bothered, as you can see how bright and happy he was, just from running with you under the rain. You sighed, but an idea came to you as soon as you saw a photo booth machine, not far from where you were standing.

“Do you… maybe wanna do that instead?”

“Photobooth?” He looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe your words.

“Why? You don’t want to?”

“No! I want to!” He said, almost too quickly. “But it’s just weird that you suggest it. But it’s a good weird!” He chuckled.

“I promised you a picture, so we’re getting a picture.”

“Aww.” Jungkook pout his lips in a kissy way, teasing you.

“Let’s go before I regret it.” You dragged him inside the booth.

The first pose you playfully put peace signs behind Jungkook’s head, giving him bunny ears, while he only stuck out his tongue. The second one, Jungkook made a love sign with both of his hands, and you surprised him with a middle finger, which he yelled at you afterwards, but couldn’t really continue to complain as the countdown for the next photo were already starting.

Since Jungkook spent at least three and a half seconds with his protest, you both were panicking for the last picture, running out of ideas. As the countdown stating two, he suddenly pulled you closer and leaned on your shoulder. The shutter flashed and the photo was taken. You were still in awe and couldn’t process what just happened. You only followed when you saw Jungkook making his way out from the booth to collect the picture.

The guy giggled like a highschool boy, taking the printed photos, then giving one copy to you. You stared at the last picture, how genuine Jungkook’s smile when he leaned on your shoulder, while you had your eyes widened in surprise. You felt your face heating in embarrassment.

“Ugh… can we just cut out the last picture?”

“I was thinking the same thing, I’m putting it on my wallet!” He said, eyes still looking up and down on the set of photos.

When you only looked at him in disbelief, he uttered a small “what?”, and laughed.

Both of you ended up eating some cups of ramen in a nearby convenience store, as you wait for the rain to stop pouring. He took you home right after, insisting on waking you to your door.

“Take care of little Kookie for me, yeah?” He said, pointing at your frog plushie, as you stopped at your unit’s front door.

“Why is he named after you?” You chuckled.

“I’m his father!” He pretended to be offended.

“Well, say bye to your papa now, little Kookie.” You waved the plushie’s small hand to him.

Jungkook felt his heart somersault. He turned away for a second, covering his mouth. He cleared his throat. “Well, uh… thank you again, for today…”

“Yeah! Thank you too…” You chewed your inner lips, hugging your plushie close.

“I uh…” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. “I just wanna let you know that what I said to you… about deciding whether you like me or not after the dates… I was just saying stuff. I don’t wanna pressure you into deciding your feelings for me or anything, I genuinely just wanna spend some time with you, and I’m thankful for your time.”

You nodded, smiling at him. Your eyes locked with each other for a quick second. Your heart skipped a beat. Maybe it was the moonlight, or the lamp in front of your door that you recently just got replaced. Either way, you could see the stars in Jungkook’s eyes and his skin glowed, but so did his lips. They were practically sparkling and glossy, you wondered if he had put any lip balm over it. For a moment, your attention stopped at his lips, just wondering how it would feel against yours. Would it be soft? Would you feel the cold metal of his lip piercing against your skin?

The man in front of you seemed to be lost in his thoughts as well. You swore you saw his eyes darted to your lips for a quick glance, before coming back to your eyes. Just when he leaned down a bit to your height level…

You froze. What was that? You felt your stomach turned, you couldn’t exactly point out whether it was due to nervousness, or if you were simply just afraid. You took a step back and your back almost hit the front door.

“You should head back, it could rain again soon…” You said, looking away.

“Oh.” There was disappointment in his voice. “Okay then… bye.” He waved to you awkwardly and walked away.

As you see his figure walking away, you went inside your apartment and closed the door behind you. Sitting down on your sofa, you put your hand over your chest. Funny how your heart was still beating so fast. You were panicking, feeling everything all at once. Nervousness, excitement, curiosity, but mostly fright. The unknown territory was making you scared. The new feelings you were feeling, you didn’t even know if it would be okay to feel it.

Still laying down on your sofa, you took your phone and dialed your best friend.

“You called.” You heard Yoongi’s voice from the other line.

“Why are you saying it like that.”

“You only call when you’re stressing over something, otherwise, you only text.”

You hate how smart and observant your friend was sometimes. “I think I feel something for Jungkook.”

“Isn’t that… I don’t know, good?”

“I don’t know… it just hit me like a truck, okay? One minute I wanna punch that stupid grin out of his face, the next thing I know, his lips looked so shiny and he got me wondering if his piercings would feel cold against my lips.”

“Okay, wow.” Yoongi said in amusement. “Care to elaborate?”

“What if I’m just… super horny or something? I mean I haven’t been with anyone for like god knows how long now, and I could just be desperate and Jungkook is good looking, extremely good looking may I add, and—“

“Okay, okay… Y/N, pause for a second.” Yoongi sighed. “So you think you might be just horny and you feel bad for it?”

“Of course I feel bad! I don’t wanna use Jungkook like that! Just because he has this stupid crush on me, doesn’t mean I can do whatever I want with him. I’m not that kind of person!” You exclaimed, the volume of your voice getting slightly higher.

“Tell me, how do you feel after the dates? Did you enjoy it?”

“Well yeah, I had a great time actually. I didn’t expect Jungkook to be that caring, and he’s actually very good at initiating conversation…” You wondered what else you could point out.

“During that time, did Jungkook mention or do anything sexual?”

“N-no! Of course not! Yoongi, do you take me as the fuck-on-the-first-date kind of person???” You said, slightly offended.

“So you like him.” He stated casually.

“I’m sorry?”

“You caught feelings. Just admit that Jungkook has officially win you over.”

“I… what…”

“I knew it. I shouldn’t have let you go on those dates, now both of you are gonna be so gross when we hang out...” You heard your friend groaned.

“I like him?” You asked, more to yourself rather than to your best friend.

“Maybe you should call Jungkook instead and tell him.”

You widened your eyes in horror. “No way, that guy only has a crush on me, it’s more of a hyperfixation, like I’m his girl of the month or something. I’m sure it’s not like how you think it is.”

“You should ask him yourself instead of making assumptions, just saying. And you know…” Yoongi paused for a second before continuing. “I think that kid is actually a good person, despite how dumb and annoying he looks.” When he got no respond from you, he spoke again. “Alright, I’ll leave you with your thoughts, just make sure you’ll talk with him about this, okay? Take care, Y/N.”

Yoongi hang up the call while you were still sitting down, expression blank, staring at the wall in front of you.

—

Jungkook didn’t text you at all after the date. Not like you text each other regularly, but you lowkey expected him to after. You wanted to call him, or at least text him. You wanted to say how you feel but you were again, scared. You began to think if you were reading it wrong. He was popular, you wondered if he just acted like that to everyone, if you were catching feelings, while he just wanted to hang out and have a bit of fun. After all, he never really explicitly said that he had feelings for you, all you knew that he admitted his giant crush for you while being under the influence of alcohol.

You never hear from Jungkook again until the next week. Hoseok invited you all to game night over his place. You wanted so badly to bail and fake being sick, but Yoongi picked you up, basically forcing you to come and face your problem like an actual adult.

With all these new and mixed emotions that you were still getting used to, the thought of seeing Jungkook in person sounded so overwhelming. He would probably just act like how he usually would, because of course, why wouldn’t he. After all you were the one who suddenly took a weird turn.

“Finally!” Hoseok shouted, as he opened the door for both of you and Yoongi.

“Come on, switch with Namjoon, he sucks!” Jin spoke while his eyes still not leaving the TV screen and his fingers loud against the controller.

They were playing Tekken 8 on Hoseok’s Playstation. You saw how Namjoon was basically getting his ass kicked, playing as a Panda character, while Jin quickly leading himself towards victory using the character that coincidentally has the same name as him.

Jin Kazama wins.

The oldest one screamed happily, while Namjoon’s protests and excuses could be heard very loudly. Everyone laughed at the two, so it was easy to spot the one who didn’t laugh as much, whose expression didn’t hold that much excitement, sitting on the edge of the sofa just playing with his phone instead.

“Y/N, come on!” Jin patted the on the carpet to the now empty seat next to him, since Namjoon already excused himself to get more popsicles from the fridge.

You followed and sat down next to Jin on the carpet, which was directly in front of Jungkook, who was slouching on the couch.

Sitting down quietly, you took the controller and beginning to scroll through the rooster of characters. You chose the character named Lili, while Jin stayed with his current main.

When you beat Jin and the sound of your friends cheering loudly was heard, you began to feel a little bit relaxed, at the very least you could forget for a moment about your situation with Jungkook. That was until, you heard Yoongi spoke.

“Jungkook, your turn.”

You immediately turned your head towards your best friend, eyeing him straight. How could he betray you like this was beyond you.

“Nah, you play I’m not really in the mood.” He rejected politely.

Your eyes went back to the screen because you refuse to see Jungkook’s expression. You pretended to busy yourself pressing the dpad button up and down on the character choices.

“This is the first time I’ve ever heard Jungkook refusing a match.” Taehyung said while munching on his potato chips.

“Yeah, that’s so unlike you, man!” Hobi joined. “Come on, we all know you’re good, but Y/N doesn’t know that yet!” He added.

A small groan came out from Jungkook’s mouth before he stood up, and once again everyone cheered. Jin stood to switch seats with him. The man locked his eyes with you once, before sitting down and picking up the controller in his hand. He didn’t take too long picking a character. His choice landed on a boxer character.

The match went quietly with only the sound of the video game from the speaker. Your friends behind you somehow went silent as well, and the atmosphere in the room became very tense.

“Is it just me or it kinda feels like they’re actually fighting with each other…” Jin whispered to Hoseok who was sitting next to him. Hoseok only signaled with his hand shaking next to his neck to cut it out, while the rest only widened their eyes and try their best not to make any comment.

You pretended like you did not hear any of it and kept mashing the controller buttons. The milliseconds of your attention being taken away from the game gave your opponent a leaway to break your combo and finally beating down your character.

Steve Fox wins.

“All right, Yoongi you switch with me, I’m gonna go get some air.” You excused yourself and headed to the balcony, closing the door behind you.

Technically it was not a lie. It just got a bit stuffy with eight people inside an apartment living room. Especially when the guy you suddenly had feelings for was in the equation as well.

You searched your back pocket for your pod and cursed silently when it was nowhere inside your jeans pocket.

“Looking for your vape?” Jungkook entered the balcony uninvited, wiggling your small disposable vape pod in front of you. But when you were about to take it from him, he withdrew his hand. “I thought you’ve stopped.”

“I did. I only do it when I’m nervous. That’s why it’s a disposable.” You said weakly.

“I noticed.” He replied in a monotone, now pocketing the pod inside his pants, refusing to give it to you.

“You smoke, don’t act all high.” You retorted.

“Well, have you seen me smoke these past few weeks?”

“No, actually… yeah, now that I think of it, you didn’t even smoke once when we went out—“ You stopped when the memories of your date went through your head. “Jungkook, about that…” You bit your lips, nervously facing him.

He also turned his body to your direction, looking at you directly. “I’m sorry.” He suddenly said.

“Huh? For what?”

“I feel like I’ve pressured you into something you don’t actually want. I’ve been thinking and re-thinking about it the past few days and it drives me crazy. I may have feelings for you, but that doesn’t give me the right to drag you along to do stuff with me just because you enjoyed spending time with me as a friend.”

“Wait, Jungkook, I don’t feel that way!”

“I know! That’s why I apologize—“

“No! I mean, I didn’t feel like you dragged me along or anything. I genuinely enjoyed our date and…” You looked away, taking a deep breath before continuing. “If I’m not reading it wrong, you’re saying you truly have feelings for me?”

“Isn’t that obvious already?”

“Well, I thought I was just your girl obsession of the week or something… You have celebrity crushes left and right, okay?! Hell, you even had a crush on Namjoon at one point!!!”

“The Namjoon crush was a joke. Man just got some nice thighs and I was just admiring it.” He defended.

You took another deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry as well… the emotions were all just come clashing to me at once and I just told you to go home instead of dealing with it.”

“But, you rejected my kiss...” He said with a weak voice, you almost didn’t catch it.

“Cause I haven’t figured out what I want yet. I thought I was just so touch deprived that your lips looked inviting that day.” You admitted while cursing yourself secretly inside your mind. That was lowkey embarrassing.

“Try being me, your lips look inviting every single day!” He exclaimed, his mood now seemed to be improving.

“Be serious.” You hit his sides. He muttered an “ow” but you doubted it even hurt the slightest bit.

“So now you’ve figured out what you want?” His doe eyes looking at you directly.

“I’m getting there… I guess.” You broke the eye contact, it was a bit too much for you and suddenly you felt a bit sweaty. “But I think I like you too.”

“Say that again while looking at me.”

“Hell no.” You suddenly covered your face with both of your hands.

“Please?” He grabbed your wrists, softly trying to prey open your hands. “I just want to have the visual memory of it captured in my brain.”

When you finally loosened your grip, he took his chance and held both of your hands in his. He grabbed them for a few seconds, intertwining his fingers with yours, before letting them go. He traced his fingers along your right wrist where you wore the bracelet that he got you, the one he got matching with his, and then moved his hands up to cup your face. The entire time he did all that, you could actually feel the shakiness in his hands, and it melted your heart.

“Can I?”

You nodded and he did not waste any second before dipping in and closing the gap between you.

Oh boy you were right, his piercings did feel cold against your lips, but that was only for a quick second before everything felt warm and soft, and your mind became blurry. You were moving your lips against his carefully, afraid to accidentally hurt him by his piercing, but instead earned a small bite on your bottom lip from Jungkook. You gasped and pulled away, hitting his chest. Since when were you in his embrace? That you did not know.

“We gotta head back now or they’ll get suspicious.”

He giggled and kissed your forehead. “They’re already suspicious, babe.”

“Still, we gotta head back…”

“You guys done making out?! We’re hungry!!!” You heard Jimin shouted from inside the apartment.

Jungkook and you looked at each other with widened eyes, before laughing in unison. He pecked you on the lips one more time before running back inside with you, holding hands.

Thank you for reading! 🌸

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #bts imagines

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joelsgreys · 1 year

Text

weakness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 5.7k

“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”

You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”

“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”

You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess.

“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”

“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”

“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.

“But Frank—”

“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise.

“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite.

“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”

Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”

Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside.

“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”

You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look.

Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime.

Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”

You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude.

Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”

“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”

Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.

What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?

What’s he going to think?

Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.

“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”

You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”

“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.

“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”

Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”

Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”

“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”

“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”

He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”

“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.

“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”

You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”

He ticks his index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”

You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”

Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”

For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you.

Could Frank actually be right?

Do you actually mean something to Joel?

No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.

“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”

“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”

Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”

“You are his weakness.”

He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut.

“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.

“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”

“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.

When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”

Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.

“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.

As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”

“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”

Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”

“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”

Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.

“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.

Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.

“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch smells heavenly—Frank knows it’s your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart.

Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.

“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”

Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly.

Had he actually meant that?

“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another.

Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”

Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant.

Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.

Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in.

As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair.

Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.

About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”

“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum.

You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”

Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.

A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”

Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”

“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe.

“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”

“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.

You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside.

When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.

“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”

“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”

Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”

You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”

Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”

The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.

“What? But what about you?”

“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”

Bill and Joel being neighbors?

Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.

“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”

“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”

The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.

The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.

“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”

Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”

Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.

“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”

“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”

“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”

You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking long since anyone had ever touched him like that.

Since he’d let anyone touch him like that.

He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks into your touch.

Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.

“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”

Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”

You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”

“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”

Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.

He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.

Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.

“Joel…”

Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.

“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”

Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.

You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.

Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.

The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain.

“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.

His face remains just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”

“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.

Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”

You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”

He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.

This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage.

Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.

“Well, well, well.”

Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face.

“How long have you been standing back there?”

“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”

You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.

So maybe he’d been right after all.

Maybe you were Joel’s weakness.

But he was yours too.

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