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ceilidho · 3 months

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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 3; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2

“What is this anyway—‘bring your girlfriend to work’ day?”

She’s snarky as ever, but with an agitated edge. Nerves prickling when Johnny holds her jacket out for her to slip her arms into. Even that makes her snap—something about not being a toddler that Johnny needs to help dress, but by then his head is in the clouds. In another place altogether.

The prospect of getting to parade his new girl around leaves him giddy, fox-like grin hard to squash. He doesn’t suppress anything, finds it hard to push things down. When he does, it’s often unconscious.

She doesn’t like the way he savours her anxiety like a fine wine, sniffs it from the top of her head and groans out his breath, cackling when she tries to stomp on his foot to make him go away. He dances away with her coat, light and nimble on his feet because he’s used to ducking and weaving for her affection.

“The guys wanna meet ye,” he repeats for the umpteenth time. It’s surprising how many times he’s had to say it.

“Why? Haven’t they ever met a girl before?” she gripes, swallowing now, her stomach probably cramping and poor bonnie lass, Johnny thinks. His poor, pretty girl is trying to put on a brave face when he knows she prefers being in the backroom of her little flower shop, snipping off stalks and tying pretty bows around pretty bouquets. He wishes he could keep her back there forever—put a lock on the door and come only to smother her in kisses and gorge himself on every inch of her—but there’s a whole wide world demanding his attention.

“Aye, hen, never a lass as cute and sweet as ye,” he crows, ducking a hand that punches through the sleeve of her jacket in his direction.

In the car, he drops the facade. Loses his teasing edge. It’s a violent removal, like jolting awake to the sound of someone sawing away at a catalytic converter. If his smile is saccharine, it’s really only a smokescreen concealing the apprehension bubbling away in his belly.

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel on the drive back to base. Heart in his throat, choking his words and rendering him quiet for once in his life. He hears Ghost’s voice in his head, a low rumbling laugh, tectonic plates shifting beneath his feet. These days, his voice acts as a lodestar, the thing steering Johnny home.

Months ago, it was the only thing between him and annihilation, the ice cold maelstrom dragging him deeper into its maw. Guiding him through the valley of death. The wound in his arm still aches in the first light of day. His sleep is still wracked by dreams of running down alleys and ducking into houses, the rain pattering against the window panes ominous, a ticking clock, each step having to be precise, calculated, each movement quieter than quiet, fading into the shadows, a cool heart and mind bested by agony from the bulletwound in his shoulder.

And then—Ghost’s voice, low and soothing in his ear, shattering the pain. Ghost’s voice in his ear telling him where to go, how to survive.

It’s hard to explain. Johnny’s tried. It’s like talking in circles when he opens his mouth and tries to get it out. I trust him with everything in me. He could do anything to me, anything.

He is no less capable, no less competent. His rank demands respect, and he takes what’s due to him. Since Las Almas, he’s worked across a medley of other teams, even solo a time or two. It changes nothing. He still wakes in a sweat, chasing that voice. It takes him back into the real world. The days burn into the fringes of a memory that he is always living.

“Should I know anyone’s name before we get there?”

Her voice breaks through the noise in his head this time. It’s every bit as precious.

“What d’ye mean, hen?” he asks, clucking his tongue. Sweats a bit when he realizes how far down the motorway they are now, how long it’s been since he checked out, lost in his thoughts. One hand rests loose on her leg, fingers spread wide and thumb gliding up and down her outer thigh, the other still holding the wheel.

The pinched look has mostly fallen off from her face, but there’s still a tremble in her lower lip when she says, “Well, I don’t know any of your friends. I wouldn’t introduce you to my friends without telling you their names first.”

“No’ my friends, hen—we’re coworkers.”

She looks over at him from the corner of her eye. “I’m friends with my coworkers.”

Johnny shrugs. “It’s no’ the same with guys. Couldnae tell you fuck all about any of them except their names, to be honest.”

“Oh, don’t give me that—you’re not friends with a single one of them? No one?”

No hunger without resistance. His mouth goes bone dry. He’d be wise to learn that.

He swallows. “Maybe a few.”

No transaction without accountability. Ghost saves his life and now Johnny has to pay that debt back tenfold. Sinking into the crease of Simon’s voice late at night, clutching it to his chest. Breathing it out. Maybe they are friends.

He’s a bit show-offy at the base gates, dangling his ID card out the window pinched between two fingers. The civilian guard on duty just waves him on, scanning it only for the sake of the logs. His tires spin in the dirt when he guns it down the stretch of road leading into the base, windows still all the way down. Her hair whips around in the wind until she gathers it all up in her fist and shrieks at him to roll the windows up.

Johnny enjoys showing off. That’s a core aspect of who he is, his charm. Braggadocious, confident in the way he looks, his physical prowess, his lot in life—so why would that change with his girl? He holds her close with an arm around her waist when he drags her through the rec centre, the building closest to where they parked.

He gets lost in conversation for longer than expected. Pure gloating about the girl he’s managed to bag. Cooing in her ear when he feels her get a bit uneasy, still timid around the other guys despite having him at her side. He supposes that’s fair. She’s more comfortable around the women on base, a bit freer with her greeting and questions, but there’s still a pinch in her brow that never smooths all the way over.

It takes a while to find anyone that he knows. There are plenty of sergeants and corporals that he’s worked with before, familiar faces and names, but Johnny still glances around the room while they make light conversation with his girl, searching. Looking for something familiar, something that’ll reel him in, make him perk up like a dog catching a scent.

They cross Gaz in a random hallway on the way to the comm centre, hardly recognizable at first with the darker stubble of his beard grown out. He must’ve just come back from wherever he’d been shipped off to the month previous, no time to shave or clean up. He even smells of old sweat when Johnny leans in for a hug.

“Is this—?” Gaz glances over at her just once while the question dangles in the air. He looks back over at Johnny.

They lock eyes. A silent exchange of meaning.

“Aye,” Johnny nods, steering her in front of him with both hands on her shoulders, showing his girl off like a kid with a new toy. Eyes glinting like, don’t say a word. “Brought her in to meet everyone.”

A molasses slow smile spreads across Gaz’s face. It’s clear why men like him always get the girl. Johnny’s hands tighten on her shoulders. “Nice to meet you—thought John would hide you away forever.”

She glances up at him through her lashes. “You talked about me?”

Gaz shakes his head. “Not as much as you’d think. Took Ghost ages to get it out of him.”

Johnny flushes. “Did no’. Jus’ ‘cause I don’ blab about everything under the fuckin’ sun doesnae mean—”

“John says you’re a florist,” Gaz interrupts, turning the conversation back to her. Her lips split up into a mischievous little grin, delighted at the turnabout, probably delighted at seeing Johnny stumble over his words.

Something about her teasing grin gets his dick hard. More points to the rapidly disintegrating belief that he doesn’t have a humiliation kink. He leans forward, pressing it into her ass, delighted himself when she shoots him a dirty look over her shoulder but doesn’t pull away.

“So, where’s everybody?” Johnny asks casually, trying not to make it too obvious who he’s referring to. The look Gaz gives him is unimpressed. He keeps running into that brick wall, his thoughts written out on his forehead, obvious to everyone around him.

“Everyone?” Gaz repeats sceptically.

“Aye.” His voice is tight, warning. “Everyone.”

“Ghost’s actually on his way here now, I think. We got called over to HQ—s’where I was headed, actually.”

“I dinnae say anything about Ghost, now did I—,” Johnny grumbles, but the words dissolve in his mouth when the man in question comes into the room.

Sometimes, Johnny has the pleasure of seeing Ghost round a corner. The split second pleasure of being the observer, of dragging his eyes up and over, his chest bursting with a light like dawn cresting behind mountains and splitting the sky. In the field, he’s often deprived of that; becomes used to experiencing the phenomenon of Ghost melting out of the shadows, sometimes scaring the daylights out of him.

It’s what happens now though. Glancing up on a whim only to see a man round the corner of the hallway leading out of the rec centre, shirt stretched out maddeningly over his arms and chest, muscles bulging like he just came from the gym, still pumped. The shirt’s a little threadbare, something old and worn, and Johnny’s seen it a million and a half times he figures; it leaves so little to the imagination that he’s joked about Ghost busting it at the seams from time to time, only to be met with a steady, aloof stare.

There’s something to be said about how he’s drawn to people who refuse to scratch him behind the ears until he’s more than proven himself. He works tirelessly for Ghost’s approval, for his girl’s approval. Dogs with their bones, tigers with their stripes.

He has a balaclava pulled over his face, just a simple black one this time, the underside of his eyes darkened by eyeblack hastily scrubbed off the night before, probably. His eyes scan the crowd, locking on Johnny and Gaz almost instantly. It’s the mark of a good soldier—he doesn’t flounder in the dark. Always finds his target, like a sixth sense for knowing when he’s being watched.

Ghost course-corrects upon noticing them, crossing the room in a handful of seconds. The curt, “Johnny,” he gets is a bounty, a treasure. He grins back when Ghost glances down at the girl at his side. “That your bird?”

“Told ye I’d bring her in—s’long as everyone’s on their best behaviour, of course.”

Gaz snorts. “Good luck with that.”

Ghost must cock an eyebrow because he can see the fabric of his mask shift. “Pretty.”

He can’t help the way he preens at that. Tucked away by his side again, Johnny can feel his girl squirm, but he pays it no mind. She’s shy—he’s known that from day one, from the first time she stumbled out from the back of the flower shop and scrunched her nose up at his attempts at flirting.

Admiration is a smooth, buttery feeling. It keeps him aloft while another couple of servicemen take interest in their conversation and come over, Johnny’s girl at the centre of everyone’s attention. He’d be pricklier about it if he didn’t have a firm hand on her waist, keeping her pressed to his side.

He soaks up the attention. Drinks it up when someone asks his girl a question and Johnny answers for her or pinches her cheek when she manages to pipe up before him. He knows he’ll get read the riot act when he takes her back home later, but he might be able to convince her to ride him while berating him for talking over her. Might beg her to slap him and spit in his mouth—say it’s the only way he’ll learn his lesson.

Dirty dog.

It strikes him that maybe he’s picked up some bad habits in recent months. He’s never been one to overthink, to worry and fret. Yet, he toils in it now, shovels coals into the furnace of it and gives it life.

His shoulders go slack, the tension finally ebbing out of him. No longer dogged by the incessant fear that his girl is going to run away, bolt at the first loud noise, or that someone’s going to pluck her up out of his arms. She seems comfortable if anything.

He’s been overthinking all of this, wrapped up in his head. He can breathe out, unclench.

When Ghost shifts to stand closer to them, he glances over because that’s where his gaze always goes these days. Seeking Ghost out, finding him in a crowd; looking for his North Star wherever he is, wherever he goes.

Only to watch in mute horror as, in plain sight, not trying to be discreet or hide it from anyone, Ghost gropes his girlfriend’s ass in front of everyone on base. Just reaches out a big hand and fondles her ass, digging his fingers into the cheek. She freezes, back ramrod straight as she stares ahead, eyes going a bit blank.

He fails whatever test this is, mouth too dry for any words to come out. Humiliation burns him from the inside out. Another sergeant that he’s worked with before frowns, glancing over at Johnny. Neither of them say a word.

Ghost tilts his head, staring down at his hand on her ass like he’s contemplating its plushness. Admiring it. With how Johnny stands on one side and Ghost the other, the two of them bracket her, like the soft centre of their trio; nowhere for her to go, a handler on either side. That’s wrong though. Ghost is not her handler—Johnny hardly is, more of a self-appointed one.

Still he—

He lets it happen.

Contention dies a bloody death in his mouth, massacred. Mangled. He lets Ghost sink his fingers into his girlfriend’s backside and hum a little under his breath before finally pulling his hand away. The others look at him, waiting for Johnny’s reaction with bated breath. A reaction that never comes because it gets strangled in Johnny’s throat.

“Nice meeting the bird,” Ghost finally says, voice a decibel lower, rough enough to scrape. “Gaz and I’ve got shit to do now. Be ready on the tarmac by oh-seven-hundred tomorrow, Johnny.”

He grips Johnny by the shoulder before heading off, like he didn’t just grope Johnny’s girlfriend. Like he didn’t just reach down and grab a handful of her ass like it was his to feel up. And Johnny just nods. A placid, docile thing under Ghost’s hand, bobbing his head like a doll.

Then Ghost leaves, Gaz trailing after him, looking back about a half dozen times to see if Johnny will suddenly follow them until he’s forced to job to catch up to Ghost, the man already yards away, longer legs carrying him fast out of the building.

They don’t talk on the drive back to her apartment, the inside of the car tense and uncertain. Johnny walks her to the door when he lets her off, but it’s a formality, a chaste kiss at the door instead of the rough fuck that he’d envisioned to send her off. Despite the hard set of her jaw, she doesn’t lambast him like Johnny expected. The silence is worse though, haunting when she shuts the door in his face.

The drive back to base after the drop off is agonizing in a whole new way. Still pent up, cock heavy in his pants, and fingers drumming over the steering wheel twice as fast now. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do? What he wants to do is turn around at the closest gap between both sides of the motorway and speed all the way back, knock on her door until his knuckles blister and bleed, until she opens the door and lets him in, lets Johnny push her to the floor in the entryway and spread her legs, welcoming him in.

Until she lets him fit his fingers into the marks left behind by Ghost’s hand.

Cold fire rising up off his bones, and then something hot. And wet.

The next day at breakfast in the mess, one of the guys says something like, “If Ghost was into my girl, that’s the last you’d see of me and her,” and his mind goes blank and he goes over the table.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #soap/reader #ghoap x reader #ghost/soap/reader

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eilidh-eternal · 5 months

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You go to dinner

Merry Christmas if that’s your thing! @luminousbeings-crudematter My gift to you and all the rest of the SingleDad!Johnny lovers today is fluff and a lil’ something extra I was originally gonna wait to include, but it just felt right in this chapter. Happy Holidays and Enjoy 🥰🎄🎁

SingleDad!Johnny x f!reader | 18+ MDNI | Part 1 | Masterlist

Today is Friday and you’re having dinner with Johnny.

Johnny and Isobel, you remind yourself. Not a date. Even if the man next door seems hellbent on seeing you squirm in his presence, stunned into silence while fire creeps in licking tendrils up your spine and sucks the breath out of you.

It’s not a date. But you still pull that one pretty dress out of your closet anyway, the one you told yourself you’re saving for a special occasion. Still don a few simple pieces of jewelry and go to the extent of styling your hair, swipe mascara onto your lashes and put something other than lip balm on for once. A few strategic spritzes of perfume at the base of your throat and wrists and you decide that anything more is too much. Trying too hard.

Trying too hard to impress someone who’s got it all. Someone who once had it all. Beautiful wife, adorable daughter. Did they live somewhere with a white picket fence? Did Isobel spend her days as a toddler going to parks and tromping through rain puddles, mum and dad at her side? Did Johnny smile at her the way he smiles at Isobel–like she hung the stars in the sky just for him? Could he ever smile at you like that? Could he ever love you–love anyone–the way he loved her again?

It’s hard not to compare yourself to the woman who’s had it all. The woman who had him. Hard not to feel doubt slithering in amongst the hope, to be reminded of everything you aren't even when he gives you no reason to. No, those feelings, that reservation, lies somewhere between yourself and the photo of the woman on his living room wall. Is there room in his heart for another woman when she’s still there to remind him of what he had? You’ll never find out if you don’t find your shoes and coat and get going.

It snowed again last night, and the pavement is dusted in a fine layer of glittering ice that swirls and scatters in the wind, trailing in lazy eddies behind you like the tail of a comet as you make the short walk next door, stepping carefully up onto their front stoop. Light from inside makes the windows glow a warm hue, and the sound of a children's show filters through along with Isobels excited voice when she hears your knock at the door.

“I’ll get it!” Isobel is darting towards the door before Johnny can dissuade her or scoop her up into his arms and task her with keeping an eye on the oven while he gets the door. He hates how tall she’s getting. Wishes her mother was here to see her stretching up on her tip-toes to peer out the window. “She’s here, she’s here!” The front door swings open, nearly taking out a vase on the entry table with it, short little arms just long enough to reach the doorknob and throw it open haphazardly. “Hi miss neighbor!”

“Hello Isobel. May I come in?” Johnny nearly drops the serving dish in his hands when he hears your voice, has to remind himself to breathe when Isobel clears the way for you and he catches a glimpse of you from the kitchen. This is just dinner, he reminds himself. Dinner with the gorgeous fucking neighbor that bakes and dotes on Isobel like she’s your daughter.

And Christ that dress… He’s glad he wore more than jeans and a t-shirt, found a dress shirt shoved in the back of his closet that isn't part of his parade dress or uniform. Isobel insisted that they ‘dress up’ for dinner, and Johnny was happy to go along with it if it meant she would take a bath and let him help with detangling her hair after. But standing here now, seeing you… he’s doing everything in his power to keep his hammering pulse in check and keep all his blood from rushing south. What a fucking sight that would be.

“Hi, Johnny.” Yeah, that’s certainly not helping. You look fucking adorable looking up at him like that, hands clasped together in front of you, toying with a delicate ring, tentative smile pulling your features into a face he wants to burn into his memory, tattoo on the back of his eyelids so he never forgets it. Soft and sweet and fucking perfect. His hands twitch at his sides, body reacting to your presence with the need to touch, to have his hand pressed to your back, curled around your waist, wrapped around your shoulder. He shoves them in his pockets instead and braces his shoulder against the wall beside him, crossing one ankle over the other and swallows down the desire to pull you into him.

“Look at ye, Bonnie. Give us a whirl, eh?” Isobel, at some point while he was too busy making moon eyes at you to notice, had taken up her usual spot beside him, arm wrapped around his leg to lean into him.

“Twirl! Twirl!” She bounces on her feet, jostling Johnny, and he feels like he could do the same. Might just join her if it would convince you. It seems he doesn’t have to though, and he watches with rapt attention as you give them a little spin, hands held out to your sides, and when you face them again you look a little less reserved, timid smile blooming into something easy and comfortable as Isobel surges forward. “Ye’re like the girls on the telly!”

Your eyes flick from Isobel’s gaze of wonderment to Johnny, and when he catches the question behind the subtle uptick of a brow, the way your eyes widen a fraction, he explains. “Wean’s been watchin’ those princess movies all week. The one with the, um… what’s ‘er friends name, Bell?”

Isobel scoffs, offended that he doesn’t remember the name of the comical sidekick. “It’s Mushu, and he’s not her friend. He’s her spirit guide. Like the wisps,” she corrects, little hands on her hips and scowling up at him. Johnny puts his hands up in front of him in surrender.

“I’ll get it right one of these days, leannan. How about ye go pause yer movie and we’ll get cleaned up for dinner?” She gives him an enthusiastic nod, all offense forgotten, and trots off to the living room to do just that. With Isobel momentarily occupied his attention returns to you, lingering on all the places your dress clings to your body, to the delicious figure he’s sure you’re hiding beneath it. “She’s right.” Your head tilts to the side, that same brow inching upwards in confusion.

“About what?”

“About ye lookin’ like royalty.” He revels in the way you stall in front of him, body seemingly frozen as your mind works to process his words, and then your eyes are looking anywhere but his face, fingers twisting your ring between them and searching for a response.

“It’s just a dress, nothing special,” you try to dismiss, and he openly appraises you now. Lets his eyes rake down your form before they meet yours again.

“‘S a dress I’d get on muh knees for, bonnie. If royalty isnae the right word for that, then maybe I should-” He doesn’t get to finish, interrupted by Isobel darting out of the living room and tugging on his arm, pulling him backwards towards the kitchen.

“Come on, bubby. Ye said we’d wash up,” she whines and continues pulling on his arm, throwing all of her weight into her efforts to move him.

“Aye, that I did,” he finally relents and lets her pull him back a step. “Go on and have a seat.” He gestures to the table, dinner and place settings all laid out already. “We’ll be right behind ye.”

In the washroom Johnny helps Isobel clamber up onto her step stool to wash her hands. “She’s pretty,” she remarks as she takes the soap from him.

“Aye, she is,” he agrees, helping her to lather her hands.

“D’ye think she’ll bake for us?”

“I dunno leannan. Ye’ll have to ask ‘er after dinner.”

She does, and she’s ecstatic when you agree with a little encouragement from Johnny. He doesn’t know much about baking but he knows you need flour and sugar and eggs and all that, and he’d made sure they have all those things from the shops when they’d gone yesterday to prepare for dinner. Wasn’t at all joking several days earlier when he said he couldn’t stop thinking about you and Isobel bopping about the kitchen together, though he can think of several things other than your spoon that he’d like to lick right now. Watching you bend over to retrieve the pan from the oven has him shifting in his seat and readjusting himself while you and Isobel have your backs turned.

“Bubby, look!” Isobel is nearly jumping with joy as you set the pan down on top of the stove. “We made cookies!” The smile you give her, the adoration pouring off of you in waves, is something he wishes he could bottle and keep all to himself. Something he never dreamed he could have. Someone who loves Isobel just as much as he does. He thinks if Isobel can win you over, make you fall in love with her, then maybe he stands a chance. Maybe you can love him too.

He just wishes she could be here to see it. That was all she’d ever wanted for him—to see him in love, settle down and start a family. Now a piece of her will always be a part of whatever family he chooses to make.

Next>>>

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

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tin-can-iron-man · 2 years

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#listen I don't want to rain on anyones parade but #every single time I see an influencer eat something and do that big eye thing and nod I lose a year off my life #like IDK why but it's SO ANNOYING #like I fucking got the food was good it fucking looked good I WISH people would just let it speak for itself #listen in reality it's literally the smallest thing to complain about ever but I just. OH I HATE IT #I hate that fucking acted little nod they all do or they like cover their mouth and do a lil dance like OHHHH IT INFURIATES ME FOR 0 REASON #like it really sucks for me because I LIKE COOKING CHANNELS AND SHORTS AND STUFF #I just wish they wouldn't add that in it's so off putting it's so uncomfortable it's so fake it's so annoying #and you're making me associate all of that with your food #like I UNDERSTAND YOUR COOKING IS GOOD TO YOU WITHOUT YOUR FIRST YEAR C+ DRAMA CLASS EYE BUG HEAD NOD BULLSH—#***breathes*** it's just a trend it's just a trend it's just a—#and like if it's authentic I don't give a shit but so many videos it's so rehearsed and fake #I think someone could make a 60 video side by side comparison of the same one nod EVERY FUCKING PERSON DOES #like just COOK!! if your cooking is good people will believe you without the fuckin. the stupid. THE HEAD NOD!!!!#again like if you enjoy your food verbally or physically this isn't about your personally #it's the content creators trying to form parasocial relationships with me by nodding at me and not blinking #and I think it's CREEPY and BAD and takes away from the focus of the food that actually looked like. nice!!#you should want to make the food because the food looked good not because hot tiktoker avatar model 260 pretended to lick their lips at it #it's just. *shudders*#anyway that's the end of the rant that is ''literally the least important thing to complain about and that's saying something bc internet''#back to your regularly scheduled program

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matan4il · 9 months

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I can't believe it's only Aug 12th and already there's a Xmas post on my dash.

Every single year I have to get through the non-Christian erasure that is Xmas season, the way that everyone acts as if the whole world celebrates Xmas, every year I have to feel like I'm being mean and raining on people's parades when I refuse to join in, or when I try to (as politely as I can) refuse to be greeted with Xmas wishes, every year I have to grit my teeth as every show has a Xmas special, every app and software has festive events and sales, changing into special Xmas versions of their icons, every media outlet wants to tell me about the joys of Xmas shopping and tourism, meanwhile I'm biting my tongue not to blurt out repeatedly that Xmas is when historically my people were targeted, brutalized and sometimes even MURDERED... and apparently Xmas season just keeps getting longer.

I don't mind that people who are religiously or culturally Christian celebrate it. I kinda mind it when non-Christians do, because that strikes me as the effects of commercialism and cultural colonialism, but hey. Other people are independent individuals, it's up to them to make their own choices, even if I personally make a different choice. And I'd never make anyone personally feel bad about their choice, either. What bothers me is that it's basically IMPOSSIBLE to opt out of Xmas celebrations if you're one of the people who don't want to participate. They're everywhere. They're in every place, they're in so many spaces that I otherwise love. And they just keep starting earlier every year. I wanna bang my head against the wall.

This is what religious / cultural coercion feels like. Yeah, even if it's done unintentionally by many.

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monzamash · 1 year

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the good, the bad and what could’ve been — lando norris (part one)

summary – nine years. an age gap that you didn’t know would cause so much heartache. you tell yourself that it’s fine, he tells you that he could give you the world but this was a cautionary tale of what could’ve been if you just let love win. pairing – lando norris x you (female reader) chapter rating – mature (sexual references, language, age gap/older woman) word count – 7k inspired by charlie puth's song called boy. masterlist

part one | part two | part three

Drenched rat was the only way to describe your appearance as the late evening downpour rained all over your parade. It had been one of those days that seemed to go on forever and there was nothing you wanted more than to see that last client waltz out of the studio and into those glorious Friday night shadows. Thank god it was the weekend.

"Any plans for the weekend, lovey?" Rae, your friend and closest co-worker asked from across the room, cleaning up her station for the last time this week.

You shrugged, not really having the mental capacity to even respond but she was being polite and the least you could do was answer.

"Maybe... My little brother's turning 21 and has reluctantly extended an invite my way so just loose plans at this stage. You?"

Rae went on to detail her jam-packed weekend with her husband, who like her was the life of every party. They were freshly married – only 3 months or so but they had been endgame since their college days apparently, which now seemed like a lifetime ago. Positivity exuded them wherever they went and you hated to admit that there was a pang of envy whenever they rocked up to after work drinks together or he dropped off her lunch that she'd left at home. Smitten by each other even after all these years.

All those little things festered away and created a small pit of jealousy in your stomach that you resented. You were happy, right? You had a successful career, a cute apartment and suitors 'round the block waiting for you to make up your mind and just fucking pick one of them. Anyone.

What Rae had was a once in a lifetime kind of love, you thought as the overhead lights were turned off and Patrick motioned for you to grab your shit and go home. The studio was cloaked in darkness as you squeezed through the small door, locked and loaded with an umbrella and a backpack filled with sketchbooks and diaries. And all you could do was pray that they were waterproofed enough to make the journey home.

"See ya Monday – and try to be on time, yeah?" Patrick arrogantly jabbed your way before disappearing out of sight and hopefully out of your life for the next 48 hours – or longer if you could get your shit together.

"Fucking arsehole," You muttered as Rae huddled under your umbrella, brushing your back with understanding.

"He doesn't know how to treat you because you intimidate him," She shook her long, black hair and rubbed her hands together, attempting to generate enough heat to keep warm as the thick fog rolled through the streets.

You shrugged, knowing that she was just trying to lighten the mood and send the week off with a positive – something she always liked to do for you, especially after a week filled with the same old bullshit. You were overbooked, overworked and wishing you were anywhere but here.

"It's nothing a really expensive bottle of wine can't fix," You half-joked and made sure Rae was sheltered before bidding her goodbye, "See you in hell on Monday."

Rae sent you a sullen wave, no doubt wishing she could've cheered you up just a little before going home to her seemingly perfect life. There wasn't much point trying when all attempts fell on deaf ears – nothing could pull you out of the perpetual cycle of drink, sleep, work, repeat. That was how it was and how it would always be and you had come to terms with that.

The short walk home from the studio was a miserable one, which was to be expected strolling the streets of London in the middle of December. But the glimmering lights reflected in the evening downpour and the smell of food cooking – sizzling kebab if you had to really hone in on the smokey, chargrilled scent wafting through the cool air, made it a little more bearable than usual. That didn't mean much considering nothing had brought you joy for months. Not even the discreetly packaged vibrator your best friend had left in a box on your doorstep with a sticky note saying, 'you deserve it'. Tragic.

You grumbled quietly to yourself, noticing a nosy neighbour standing beside the entrance to your building, waiting for either you or a cab. It was always hard to tell. She was an older lady who loved to pry and nothing gave her more pleasure than to bundle people up and have a chat. She was harmless and meant well but the last thing you needed tonight was an ambush.

"Sorry Effie, I have to get upstairs and get out of these wet clothes."

You got in first with the excuse and she simply smiled and waved. Effie knew the trials and tribulations of a London winter since she'd lived here all her life, simply wishing you a wonderful weekend and making you feel bad for brushing her off.

The apartment was cold and dimly lit as you flicked on the kitchen light and chucked your backpack down on the couch with a huff. You hoped it would feel better being home after a long day but you knew you had no food, no company and a cold bed waiting for you upstairs. All things that made it impossible to look on the bright side.

"Fuck. My. Life," You groaned into the fridge and slammed it shut, internally wishing past you had organised something for dinner.

You did as you told Effie and went upstairs to change into something comfier and less wet – a tracksuit set, combat boots and new beanie to cover the bird’s nest you called a "hairstyle". The floor length raincoat you should've taken to work was waiting for you at the front door – almost taunting your never-ending brain fades. You scooped up your keys and scarf and headed downstairs again, hoping that Effie had left to wherever the hell she was going on a Friday night. The fact a 70 year old woman had more of a social life should've worried you more but you were too tired to care.

By now it was a quarter to midnight and there was really only one option to get anything resembling food this late since the closest Waitrose was a 10-minute walk away. You had already burnt your bridge there by rocking up at closing time, forcing them to keep the tills open so you could buy emergency ice cream. You couldn't show your face there ever again.

The bright blue and red lights spilling into the puddles that were still filling from the rain was a welcomed sight. It was the only sign of life for miles, besides yourself and you were grateful having a 24-hour Tesco Express right around the corner. Capitalist convenience was in working order. The florescent lights were not as pleasant as you walked in and triggered the bell hanging over the automatic doors.

A familiar voice sang out your name, greeting you from behind the counter with a half-arsed smile adorning his kind face. You grabbed a basket and gave him a wave.

"Hi Kev," You meekly returned and continued on your way down the aisles, hoping to find a few things that would tide your hunger over until the sun came up.

You stopped at the confectionary section and perused for a second, debating whether a sugar hit this late in the night was the responsible adult thing to do. Your mum's authoritarian voice rang in your ears as you reached out and grabbed a bag of skittles, smiling to yourself as you dropped them into the basket. That smile had been the first of the day, maybe even of the week and it felt nice for a split second to feel the weight lifting from your shoulders.

"Late dinner?"

The voice came from a few steps away and belonged to a smirking stranger. He was taller than you, even hunched over the bargain bin he was rifling through. His hair was curly and sopping wet and it was hard to tell if it was just dark because of that or naturally, but your confused gaze connected with his and the smile that had just been on your cold face had disappeared.

"Excuse me?" You quietly asked and stared into his icy blue eyes, prepared to strike with a snarky comeback or two.

"The skittles," He pointed to your basket, "That used to be my evening meal a few years ago until I realised I was an addict and had to get help."

The kind smile on his face softened your stern expression, "Oh, right... Well I'm glad you found the help you needed. Maybe I should too," You tried to muster a joke and he laughed – loudly.

Nobody laughed like that at anything you had said lately because most of the things you did say were either dripping in sarcasm or laced with self-deprecation. Both weren't cute or endearing the longer it became apart of your personality. But he liked your joke enough to give you a boost of serotonin and your smile was back –even brighter than before.

"I did but you should definitely level it out with something else – maybe something chocolaty," The mystery man nodded towards the rows of chocolate bars lining the racks in front of you, now openly encouraging your bad habit.

His accent was different to what you were used to – British, kind of upperclass, kind of not but laced with something else and you were intrigued. Maybe even a little mesmerised by the way he stood his ground, making small talk to a complete stranger in the middle of the night. He looked cozy too, tracksuit clad like you, giving zero fucks about how you fashionable you looked, or really what anyone thought. Comfy, friendly, warm – he was different.

"Great suggestion but I think this will do enough damage," You replied, making him chuckle again.

"I'll live my junk food fantasies vicariously through you," He said before he turning on his heel and making his way to the register at the front of the store, humming to himself.

You could hear his boisterous yet kind voice as you grabbed a pre-mixed salad and lined up behind him, "Thanks man – have a great night," He said to Kevin who no doubt appreciated a friendly face this late in the night.

The stranger sent one lasting smile your way and said 'hope you do too' before he exited with his bag of almonds and a coconut water. Simple and nutritious – which was more than you could say about your late night dinner choices.

With a genuine pep in your step and your items safely tucked under your arm, you left the shop feeling a lot lighter than you did when you walked in and that was something unexpected. A polite run in with a stranger was an unlikely mood-booster but you were clinging to it while it lasted. That was until you noticed a shadowy figure walking up ahead as you rounded into your street and slowed down, but the person heard your footsteps loud and clear.

Internally cursing yourself for wearing the loudest boots you owned, you relaxed a little when you realised it was the man from the store, who had thrown a thick puffer jacket over his orange hoodie. There was a short pause as your eyes met and a puzzled look flashed across his flushed face, wind blown.

"I'm not stalking you," You said in hopes of easing his confusion, "I live here."

You pointed to the large wooden door that led into your apartment building as you tugged your jacket closed, trying to trap any warmth left in your body. The man turned around and looked to where you were pointing before spinning back with a soft chuckle, "And I live there."

He gestured to the building across the small side street you were both standing in, looking as bewildered as each other. It was your turn to laugh as the penny dropped – you were neighbours.

"Small world," You humorously replied and took a few long strides past him. As cute as he was in the darkness, you were frozen solid and needed to thaw out as soon as possible otherwise you'd be asking him for a ride to the hospital.

"See you around?" He asked more as a question than a statement and you nodded with a small, chattering smile.

"Yep," You simply replied and buzzed yourself into the building, shivering beneath all the layers you'd put on before leaving. Even though you were smiling through gritted teeth and feeling warmth from the fleeting conversation, the several layers of clothing and a genuine smile from a stranger weren't even enough to keep you from hypothermia. You couldn't wait to get upstairs and sit by the heater, wishing you were in some quaint country cabin far, far away.

"Yep... Just keep the peel on until tonight and then wash your thigh with that soap I gave you... Yep, warm water is perfect and make sure you put on a thin layer of cream after that... It’ll probably be a little red but I promise you’ll heal perfectly so don't stress," You reassured your client who had gotten her first ever tattoo yesterday.

Your work was rewarding in so many ways but the pressure of working for someone else came with it's unique challenges. There was nothing you wanted more than to open up your own little tattoo shop with Rae and live your life the way you wanted to – not the way some washed up muso envisioned. With a few more words of encouragement, you managed to reassure your client and begin your Saturday, doing a whole lot of nothing.

The sun was shining at least and you figured you might as well enjoy some of what the day had to offer before your night out later this evening. Your brother had given you strict instructions on when and where his birthday drinks were going to be and you knew then that making an appearance at this thing was now a non-negotiable. You couldn't be seen as the flaky older sister again and you didn't want to let him down – that relationship was one of very few that were sacred in your life and turning 21 was a big deal.

It wasn't long until you were strapping on your heels, sticking a couple more bobby pins into the messy bun you were trying to tame and trotting down the staircase, ready to mingle. You had been single now for much longer than you would've liked and although there had been moments of weakness, nothing had amounted to more than a shitty one-night stand. And it was infuriating.

A complete exodus from dating apps hadn't helped your cause but you couldn't handle another ghosting, especially not from some grubby dude who had no right being anywhere near you. You had standards that were high and there was nothing wrong with that – until a couple of gin and tonics are consumed and you forget you were even human. All of a sudden your standards have left the building along with you and said grubby dude.

"Hey!" A voice echoed from across the street as you closed the building door and glanced around with furrowed brows, wondering who was calling out your way.

That's when you spotted him – the man from last night who you couldn't stop thinking about, even if you didn't want to admit it. He looked different in the daylight and definitely lived up to parts of the vision you'd conjured after your random meeting in the street. The curls were there, as were the light blue eyes that caught your attention but he was younger than you first thought, a lot younger which was an important detail that you'd missed in the darkness. One you wished you had of noticed before summoning those late-night thoughts.

"Hi again," You greeted with crossed arms, trying to cover the somewhat revealing dress underneath your jacket.

You quickly clocked his athleisure wear and concluded that he was probably going to the gym with his friend who was trailing closely behind him. They were both full of smiles as you crossed the road, figuring you had to wait for your cab anyway so you might as well have company.

"I realised after I went in last night that I didn't even introduce myself – I'm Lando," He said and held out his hand for you to shake.

"Well in our defence it was super late and my brain was definitely mush," You replied and grasped his warm hand, introducing yourself.

You'd be lying if you didn't say there was a small, flash of something resembling a spark as you shook his hand. A little buzz of excitement that in the moment you chalked up to being super alone and outrageously horny. Desperate didn't even begin to describe the mess that was your sex life and with that in mind, your snap reaction of having undeniable chemistry with him was probably not accurate. But whether it was a figment of your imagination or not, it was still a valid feeling and you were going to have to bury that shit.

"Nice to put a name to the face," Lando smiled and turned to his friend who up until this point had remained quiet, "This is my father, Carlos."

You knew he was pulling your chain, or at least you hoped he. His friend shoved him in the side, fervently shaking his head, "Clearly not his father but Hola," He sheepishly greeted, voice laced with a thick accent and a smile that would make any sane individual with two eyes and a pulse melt in place.

"I was gonna say that's a little suss but I don't judge without context."

You glanced between the two men with a smirk and held your hands up – making them both chuckle quietly. They also eyed each other, a silent nod following that you couldn’t quite decipher. It was fleeting, almost so much so that if you blinked, you would’ve missed it. Maybe you wished you did because now you were cursing yourself for not taking that body language class at university all those years ago. Pointless and too bohemian for your liking, you thought at the time but now, standing on a rain gutter, you regretted passing such haste judgment. Their unspoken conversation infuriated you internally as Lando looked back at you with an awkward smile.

"Nah, I'm an appropriately aged guy and definitely not a child..." Lando trailed off and clumsily scratched the back of his neck, "Don't know what I mean by that but um yeah, not his son obviously." He was fumbling, frantically trying to change the subject but instead looked down at his dirty white sneakers with a grimace, internally face-palming himself.

You bit down on your mauve coloured bottom lip and tried to conceal the smile threatening to reveal itself. He was cute. Awkward? Absolutely. A little dorky with his oversized hoodie and boyish grin? You could say that but he was still kind of cute nonetheless.

"Obviously," You replied sweetly and noticed your uber pulling up outside your apartment building, ready to take you somewhere you could drown your shitty week away.

"Nice to officially meet you and your dad – see you around." You winked and maintained eye contact with Lando before strutting across the street and jumping in your uber.

You wondered what they said once you were gone and whether you looked better in broad daylight or in the shadows of the night. Your intrusive thoughts were quickly pushed aside when you realised he was more than likely taken, or not interested. Or more importantly, way too young for you to even be having these thoughts about. The good ones never were right for you – there was always something. It was like a curse that you'd picked up somewhere along the way – a curse that forbid any man with a job and their shit together to look your way twice. You were invisible to those men lately and you couldn't help but blame yourself.

With a mission to find someone to take your mind off those negative thoughts, you ordered your first drink, and then your second drink and you guessed it – your third and fourth in quick succession. You swore the dance floor was falling out from under your feet as your brother and his girlfriend scooped you up and called you an Uber. The night was over before it had even begun and you knew you'd be filled with regret in the morning. But right now, you were just lucky to be standing upright.

"Will you be okay?" Your brother asked as you flopped into the back of the car, giggling like a schoolgirl.

"Pfft, I'm a professional drinker," You hiccupped and covered your mouth, "I'll be fine – driver, take me home!"

The uber driver mumbled something under his breath and punched in the address your brother had given him, no doubt sick of trashed girls on the brink of vomiting, flailing around in the back of his car. You were a mess and attempting to cover that up by drinking wasn't doing you any favours. In fact you knew it was only going to make you feel worse – especially tomorrow.

"Alright, you're home," The driver said loudly, waking you up from the quick nap you decided to take in the backseat, blaming the warmth for lulling you to sleep.

"Make sure you grab everything."

A scoff slipped past your lips as you gathered your bags, "I know what I'm doing," You retorted, not realising that you were probably slurring every word and most definitely making absolutely no sense to someone who was stone-cold sober.

You closed the door and nearly fell forward over the gutter doing so, trying to balance in the heels that had caused your feet to go numb. The black car drove off and you waved like a maniac, thinking you were hilarious before rummaging through your handbag for your keys. You could barely see through blurry vision and the cold air made every inch of you exposed skin tingle as you stumbled into the brick wall of your building. At least you were home.

"Fuck," You hissed to yourself as you dug through the bag and saw nothing but a dark void. It was an impossible task without the flash on your phone to light the way.

The sound of a car door slamming shut across the street startled you out of your intoxicated rage, causing a few items to tumble from your handbag, including your phone. And there he was again, dressed smartly this time – the mystery man who's name you couldn't quite remember in your drunken state. You turned away and frantically started looking for your keys again, hoping to God he wouldn't come over and see you looking like a complete mess. Famous last thoughts.

"Early night?" His innocent question echoed through the empty street and you closed your eyes, knowing there was no way you could avoid him now – especially since you were locked out of your apartment with nowhere to go.

You bashfully looked up through your fake eyelashes and sent him a lazy smile, "Yeah, didn't quite uhm, end up – end up the way I expected," You managed to stammer through your sentence, hoping he could understand some of what you were saying.

"Well we've all been there... Do you need help?" He asked and looked down at your hands that were full, "Because you've dropped a couple of things in the gutter..."

You looked down and realised you'd dropped not only your phone but also your purse, a powder compact and a small sketchbook, "I'm – I'm a real fucking idiot and I've lost my keys... I think... I think I left them in the uber," You confessed and conceded the obvious. You were locked out of your apartment in the dead of an English winter, dressed like an expensive escort. A disaster.

"Ah, crap. Have you given anyone a spare key?"

The glimmer in his eyes as you looked up from your bag made your heart skip a little in your chest. He was handsome, the curls you’d clocked falling onto his forehead as he stood up, and you couldn't stop staring until he snapped you out of your trance, your name falling effortlessly from his chapped, shivering lips, breath causing a thick fog to form in front of your confused face.

"Oh... uhm, my – my friend... ah shit what's her name?... God, what is wrong with me," You grumbled, breath mingling in the cold air as you rubbed your face, "What's your name again?"

"It's Lando," He kindly replied with a soft chuckle and tucked away the objects he’d picked up for you, knowing there was no way you would be able to do any of that in the state you were in.

“Lando,” You repeated quietly, “Like the star trek dude? I’ve never seen it but… that’s right, right?” Even you could hear your incoherent mumblings, making yourself physically cringe because he was too polite to correct you, “Just stop talking, idiot.” You whispered to yourself, or at least you hoped he didn’t hear you. He did.

"Definitely named after the dude in star trek,” He chuckled softly and scanned the empty street, wondering what the hell he was going to do with a drunk, helpless woman.

He couldn’t leave her like this but he also had plans – a blind date that had been sprung on him and set up by Carlos at the gym. Sure, he had been regretting saying yes to it but he hadn’t been out on a date in months, maybe longer and he was sick of the late night hook up that had become too much of a regular occurrence, though completely random. He wanted more than that, something worth his precious time and he didn’t need the drama that came from the one-night stands. It didn’t even matter how good it felt in the moment. Occupied sheets and empty promises didn’t keep him warm at night. It made him physically ill.

But now he was faced with what was obviously a challenge – a beautiful mess of a rescue mission.

“Look, why don't you come in out of the cold and we'll call your nameless friend who has your spare key?"

Your eyebrows furrowed and you blinked a couple of times before looking at the locked door beside you, "I can't go inside because *hiccup* I've lost my keys... I think I left 'em in that uber... But he was just here, I swear..."

Lando stifled a giggle again and slowly nodded, "Yep, we've been over that but I meant my place. Not sure if you remember this but I live over the street from you... Right there," He gestured towards the opposite building and you rolled your eyes.

"I know that, buddy," You sarcastically retorted, "I'm not stupid." You were slurring up a storm and he simply smiled in response – his patience was commendable.

"My apologies... But I'm freezing and you're turning blue so come on – I promise I'm not a weirdo," He held out his hand and nodded towards his building, blue eyes glimmering under the dim streetlight.

You sighed and linked your icy fingers with his, "You better not be a weirdo..." You rasped and let him guide you over the road, silently enjoying clinging to his muscular bicep and watching his ringlets blowing in the wind.

As you let your entire body weight brush against his arm, you felt something sharp digging into your ribs, a foreign object that you swore wasn’t there before. You stopped in your tracks, leaving Lando confused as you reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out a set of keys – "Wow."

“Oops,” You grimaced, goofy grin instantly sweeping across your face when Lando looked down at your hands, chuckling at you as you stumbled out of his grasp, “Guess you don’t get to murder me tonight, Lawrence!”

“Not even close,” He shuffled back with a smile and observed your every move, ready to swoop in if you did stack it in the middle of the street. You were like a baby giraffe, clomping across the damp asphalt in your heels, giggling to nobody. “You know where I live if you need anything.”

“Yeah, yeah!” You shouted back, trying your best to smoothly exit the situation and from your perspective, you were killing it.

But reality was a cruel, unforgiving beast – and you were failing miserably to play it cool as you toppled through the building door and nearly face-planted into the couch nestled in the foyer. It was a miracle that you didn’t fall, Lando thought as a smitten grin surfaced on his frost bitten cheeks while he walked upstairs to his own apartment, drafting the dreaded ‘sorry I can’t make it' text but feeling no regret at all.

You were all he could think about for the rest of the night – a beautiful hurricane rolling through his life for the briefest of moments, a burst of long wavy hair, trench coat fluttering in the wind and for a second he wished, deep down that maybe you had lost your keys. As quickly as that thought crossed his mind, he shooed it away – knowing already that you were out of his league, hell, you weren’t even playing the same sport. What the fuck was he going to do if he did get you up here, away from civilisation where it was just the two of you? God help him.

From a distance, you seemed sophisticated, witty, chaotic fun – all traits that had him staring at his ceiling, soundlessly wondering when he would see you again. Soon, he hoped.

“Six tequila shots, Jen! We’re celebrating!” You yelled over the loud EDM music blasting through the club, the smell of testosterone and Acqua di gio aftershave mixing in the already thick, humid air.

“Of course, girl! What are we celebrating?” The bartender asked smiling from ear to ear. Jen, who by day was a barista at your local café, had become one of your closest friends in the city and was always cheering you on from the sidelines while serving you the best coffee in London.

“I quit my soul sucking job and told Patrick to shove it up his arse!” You shouted, waving your arms in the air along with your best friend who had insisted on helping commemorate this magnificent occasion, “I finally bit the bullet and did it, Jen and I feel bloody amazing!”

Jen leaned over and grasped your forearms, “Super proud of you, sis. ‘Bout fucking time you did something for yourself.”

You couldn’t argue with that. She was right.

It had been a week since your drunken run in with your neighbour. Humiliating was the first thought that came to mind, head thumping for days following. You hadn’t seen him since that ill-fated night and there was a small part of you that searched for him whenever you left for work, eyes quickly glancing across the street in case fate was working your favour and he was leaving too. Happenstance.

But you were never that lucky and the week had gone from bad to worse at work – your boss had finally lost the plot and you were done, once and for all. No amount of love for your craft was worth being berated by a self-righteous, egotistical arsehole. He’d pushed too far and you were out of there, rucksack haphazardly slung across your shoulders and a smile bigger than the moon on your face. You were free – until the reality of unemployment hit.

London was your home and it had been for the better part of a decade, working at different tattoo parlours, building a solid client list along the way until you’d reached the top and now, finally opting out of the cruel, unrelenting torture that was working under Patrick. Life was too short and your thirties were well underway, that biological clock forever ticking while everyone else seemed to be settling down, buying that dream house with a picket fence. That wasn’t for me, you told yourself so you could sleep at night.

So much of your life was based around career goals and aspiration, so many of those things had been ticked off before your thirtieth birthday last year and it left you wondering where the time had gone. Your twenties had whizzed by faster than your teens and it made that hole in your heart, where you presumed personal goals were supposed to live feel emptier than ever. Especially when those friends you’d stayed in touch with since high school were having their second or third baby, getting married, some for the second time. Where had the time gone?

It was passing you by and even though you gave yourself that pep talk late at night, looking up at your ceiling, questioning whether you would ever find someone to share it all with or if you even wanted that, time continued to tick. Fleeting memories, first dates, and awkward one-night stands – they were all you really had in terms of a love life. The term ‘love life’ was probably over reaching, because if it was a life, it was fucking tragic.

But it was all you had. That and a kickass group of friends who had your back, setting you up with their husbands cute friends, until they turned out to be misogynistic arseholes, or worse – secretly married. In a population of 9 million, you would think there would be a plethora of kind, sweet men but you couldn’t seem to find one. And that led to the one question that did keep you up at night – maybe it’s me. Am I the problem?

“Babe, you’ve got it all. A gorgeous apartment, a beautiful puppy, you’re going to accomplish the dream you’ve had since you were 14 years old! There’s so much going for you that having a guy means nothing. And fuck men, honestly. I’m so glad we’re out here doing this because I’m one wet towel away from killing Jamie,” You couldn’t help but laugh at your best friend, Winnie.

“I’m serious!” And she was, the deadpan expression never faltering as you put your hands up for protection.

“I got you, I’m with you,” You defended, “I guess I just see everything else falling into place, even though my career path is a little murky right now but I’ll work that out… Love is the one thing I can’t figure out. What am I doing wrong?”

Winnie laughed and gripped your shoulder endearingly, “You are hot, like super hot. They are the issue, not you! Okay…” She trailed off and pushed another shot in your direction.

“Tonight’s the night. We are going to find you a cutie, someone fun. And it might just be a meaningless fuck like the rest but let’s deal with that in the morning,” She hiccupped, already tipsy from the shots.

You smiled and sweetly nodded, knowing that her intentions were coming from a good place but stomaching empty promises had become a regular occurrence. You’d lost count of how many guys she’d set you up with or found through dating apps when you went to the bathroom and came back to find her scrolling through, squealing every time a guy she liked matched with you. It all just felt pointless – and a little desperate. Okay, maybe a lot desperate but you appreciated her trying to help.

So you let her pull you through the crowd to where the rest of your friends were standing, all pouring shots down their throats and getting “wild”. A group of women in their early 30s, most with a kid or two or hadn’t been out to a club in months, some years. It was carnage but you appreciated them all coming out to celebrate you. It gave you something to hold onto even when the rest of your personal life was slowly sinking like the titanic, no safety boat in sight.

Until – you heard your name, loud and clearly from behind your friend. The voice was familiar, oddly so, like you’d imagined it somewhere along the lines and it wasn’t real. Lando’s face bobbed up from the side, smile adorning his sweet face, enthusiastic wave quickly followed and you returned it, the same smile too. His cheeks were flushed and eyes slightly bloodshot. You could tell he was tipsy.

“Hello stranger,” You greeted shyly, not knowing how to approach and apologise for the shameful display you showed last weekend. But before you could even get another word out, you were being pulled into a hug, a loose, one arm kind of hug but a hug nonetheless.

He was warm, perspiring ever so slightly as your cheek brushed across his damp neck, no doubt caused by the high humidity inside the club that was pumping. The lingering scent of Dior Sauvage mixed with a woody scented shampoo were notes you picked up on as your arm slipped around his waist, gently giving him a squeeze before you pulled away, half-heartedly.

“Glad you’re alive and well!” Lando shouted over the loud music, still beaming as you leaned in a little closer, “I am so, so, so sorry about last weekend… I’m not usually – well, no sometimes I get a little too heavy handed with my good friends gin and tonic but that was next level and not at all who I am typically… Just yeah, super embarrassed!”

Lando nodded empathetically, “Don’t be. You were, and I mean this is the nicest possible way; you were the most entertaining part of my week… So you’re drinking gin and tonic, yeah?” He asked, glancing down at your empty hands before turning to the bartender and hailing him over.

“Just a gin and tonic and a corona, please mate.”

Lando swivelled back your way, still grinning while he took in your surroundings, “Girls night out?” He asked, curious as to why you were out with your friends.

“Sort of,” You began to explain before graciously accepting the drink he had bought you, “I quit my crappy job and they insisted we celebrate – but between you and me, I think they’re just bored of their husbands and kids." Your whisper made him laugh, that serotonin boost lighting up your senses again, just like it did a week ago when you first met. Sparks flying.

“Makes sense," He nodded with a furrowed brow, looking serious before cracking a smile, "Congrats on quitting your shitty job, I’m sure your boyfriends here celebrating with you too, no?”

There was a glint in his eyes as they scanned the room and landed back on yours, eagerly awaiting your response. You didn’t give it to him straight away, letting him stew on that question for a couple seconds longer than humane, until he took a sip of his beer, finding something to occupy himself with while you left him there hanging.

“No boyfriend.”

Your answer was simple – to the point and Lando appreciated that as he let go of the deep sigh rattling around in his chest. Was he being nosy? Absolutely but he was also hedging his bets, knowing that if you did have a boyfriend and you looked like that then he wouldn’t have his two front teeth by the end of the night. He had to know for certain before he bought you another drink. And definitely before he asked you to dance.

There was barely a millimetre, if that between your body and his, only losing the warmth of his embrace when he twirled you around, giggling like teenagers who were superficially falling in love for the night. Your friend was the one who broke up the party, insisting that she said goodbye to you before leaving to relieve her babysitter.

“Everyone’s gone home and I think I’m gonna head off too,” She yelled before tugging you closer, “But have fun with your boy toy,” She whispered into your ear, her smirk telling as you pulled back and rolled your eyes.

“Stop it. It’s just a bit of harmless dancing,” You scoffed in return, but she’d known you since you were knee high to a grasshopper, practically experiencing all of life’s milestones in tandem – until she found her prince charming and had his babies, a betrayal like no other.

“Sure, sure,” She winked because she knew that there was a 90% chance that you wouldn’t make it home, or if you did, it was only because your place was closer than his, “Call me tomorrow morning when you get home.”

The cheek, you thought as she strutted off into the crowd, disappearing into the stormy London night. You were at a crossroads, standing in the middle of the club and searching the room for Lando. He’d given you space to speak with your friend, a subtle sign of respect while he rushed to the bathroom and splashed his face with water.

Get it together, he muttered, cursing his rosy cheeks and uncooperative curls, the bundle of ringlets gathering like a nest on the crown of his head. He didn’t want to look shabby in front of you, especially since he'd identified your expensive perfume and had noticed the red-bottomed heels adorning your feet. You were the uptown girl they were talking about in that song, the tune now on the tip of his tongue as he pushed through the bathroom door, whistling along to the silent song stuck in his head.

And there you were, lost in the crowd, searching. He wondered for a second whether you were looking for him or if your friend had just come over to tell you something and she was coming back. But when your eyes met, you smiled big. Grinning and relieved to see those bright blue eyes drawing you in from across the room, a familiar face to ease your nerves. You glided to him like a magnet magically pulling you both to the halfway point, hands immediately reaching, needy to feel the others touch again.

Winnie’s words rang in your ears, so sure of herself and what she knew about you. Your bad habits. You wanted to spite her and bid Lando farewell but when you watched his tongue swiping across his pouty bottom lip and that boyish smile tug at the corners of his mouth again, you were done for – hook, line and sinker.

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

click here for part two

a/n – i really hope you enjoyed the 7k word introduction *facepalm* to this mini-series – it got away from me a little bit but i'm excited about exploring long form writing on tumblr so follow for updates and lmk what you think so far!

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #lando norris one shot #formula 1 one shot #f1 #f1 x reader #monzamashmasterlist #what could've been fic #monzamash #lando norris x you

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svcredveins · 1 month

Note

You call that a visible beat?

Hmm…you seem quite ruffled…🤔

Last time I checked, there were 6 people who noticed my visible heartbeat on that blog post. You need to look with your eyes mate. Lol

Turning off anon questions now. Let’s see if these people become too chicken to say something rude now lol. What a sad, sad world though. And it’s a wonder why people keep leaving because of rude people like this, then there’s also the nasty ones who are in it for sexual intent. Like come on, do better. We’re all human at the end of the day with emotions.

But for real though people need to just loosen up a little these days and let others be. We’re just here sharing our passions and people like this love to rain on everyone’s parade. This community has been rough lately and I just joined it nearly a month ago despite being a cardiophile since I was little, so I did indeed miss out on the good old days, but that’s asides from the point. Y’all need some kindness! Phew!

Let this be a PSA post. From this moment forward, I’ll be deleting those statements in my inbox, if nobody’s too chicken to say anything that is now lol

It costs nothing to be kind you know. I’m not offended, but this has given me another statement to say with my final words about a negative attitude once again and I’m only bringing attention to it because again, this community is in a rough spot right now and it’s sad to see. I wish everyone a good, prosperous day. It isn’t worth anyone’s time to look at negative inbox posts so onward and upwards now :)

Also, to those who are struggling, you got this! If anyone struggling needs to vent, my dms are open. We’re not alone in these dark times in this community. 🖤🫀

More files to come later today! 🖤

#cardiophilia #heartbeat #cardiophile #cardiophile thoughts #stethoscope #self stething #beating heart #female cardiophile #female heartbeat

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lesbolieeh · 11 months

Text

She left behind a poem

Yuna (ITZY) ✦ Fem!Reader

WC—3.8 ✦ k

THEMES—sfw ✦ light angst ✦ future fluff (?) ✦ best friend au ✦ crush au

WARNING—anxiety ✦ heartbreak ✦ crying yuna :(

NOW PLAYING—Jenny (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship) ✦ Studio Killers

[A/N.] 언니 (eonni) = older sister

Original ver. “The Notebook” (Somi x reader)

M.LISTS—itzy ✦ latest updates ✦ read on wp

✦ ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ✦ ੈ ✦ ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ✦ ੈ ✦

Today was one of those bad fucking days. One of those days when you can't find any positivity in anything. One of those days when you don't feel like talking to the people you love the most. One of those days when you just want to give up.

The first thing you saw in the morning was a the notification of a text from your girlfriend. Looking at the white speech bubble is something you usually look forward to when you see Somi's name bright up your screen, knowing she always has something entertaining to tell.

But this particular morning she said something you wish were a joke.

SomSom babieboo💞

[ive been thinking lately and _____ i think we need a break]

😘🤌👅🍒🍑✂️🌈☀️

[You're not going to tell me why?]

Seen 10:17

You asked her the first thing that came to your mind. She couldn't possibly just expect you to be OK with having a break without a reason, right?

After an hour you accepted the fact that she had left you on read and that she wasn't going to reply anytime soon.

Maybe it was because she called you _____.

She never called you by your name. Only your friends called you that. She was supposed to call you weird or cheesy pet names and nothing else!

She left you with a headache. She left you with your bad thoughts and theories. Damn you, Somi.

It was very human-like of you to be in a bad mood. Only a robot would feel nothing in this situation. The day wouldn't get any worse. You were going to make sure of it! Your mood may have been bad, but you weren't going to let anyone else get affected by it. Lashing out on innocent people because you don't feel good on the inside is something you hated doing.

Today you were going to hang out with your best friend, Yuna, have a picnic on a park next to the Han river. Yuna had packed a cute pink basket (that she had specifically bought for you two to use for picnics together since they happened at least thrice a month) which was filled with tuna and kimchi kimbap, green grapes, two clementines and some churro flavored chips and you had packed a large outdoor blanket so Yuna wouldn't have too much to carry. For almost a week you two hadn't met up and you both missed each other and wanted to make up for the days you had spent apart so of course you went for the nice, typical no-homo picnic hang out session.

But no.

You weren't going to meet Yuna and ruin her parade with the rain cloud that was following you around wherever you went since you opened your eyes this dark morning. No, you weren't going to let the first time you two meet in such a long time be ruined by the sad news you got this ugly morning.

언니 🥰

[I can't hang out today, sorry]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[why not?☹️]

언니 🥰

[I'm not feeling too well]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[it's ok i'll get some soup for u😊]

언니 🥰

[No, you don't need to, I don't want you to get sick!]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[but ive missed u sm☹️]

언니 🥰

[We'll meet another day I promise to make up for this!]

And so you put the phone gently on the table to lay on the sofa and binge watch some random show. You made sure to turn your phone off first since you knew you'd cut Somi some slack in case you read any persuasive text from her — she's good with words and making you feel loved. Whilst you were looking through all the lists Netflix had created for you, which were filled with movies and series you either had already seen or weren't interested in, Yuna was still expectantly waiting for her screen to go bright.

She must be joking, she thought.

Unlike you, Yuna's morning had started out brilliant. From the moment she opened her eyes, she was smiling and full of energy, excited to hang out with you after not seeing you for five whole days. She had missed you. Spending time with you was one of her favorite hobbies! Since you two had picnics regularly you two had decided that you would take turns in deciding and packing the picnic basket and this time it was Yuna's turn! She had been so excited all week, planning out a shopping list days before. She had specifically purchased grapes this time because she had this fantasy of putting one in your mouth (which sounded weird, but it would feel intimate to feed you fruit) and also playing around and throwing grapes up in the air and catching them in the mouth.

Needless to say, she liked you a little more than a best friend should and that was a bit of a problem. Her friends kept telling her that it was stupid to spend so much time with you and that Yuna should either try to ignore her emotions or she should distance herself from you until she loses feelings, because it was unfair to hurt herself by giving herself false hopes of getting somewhere with a taken girl.

And Yuna knew it. For so long, she'd known that it was a bad idea to like you. You didn't like her in the same way, and you even had a girlfriend for fuck's sake — and a really pretty one at that! But no matter how many red flags there were, she still wanted to spend everyday with you. She didn't want a week to go by without being with you. She wanted to cuddle with you on a picnic blanket. She wanted to kiss you when you visited photo booths. She wanted to share shirts with you. She wanted to stay up late and talk until you two fell asleep in each others' arms. She wanted to be the only one you called Baby.

Wondering why you called Yuna 'Baby' when you already were in a relationship with Somi? Well, Baby had been Yuna's nickname before you even met Somi (yes, you'd known Yuna longer than you'd known Somi, yet you still found yourself in a relationship with the latter — or not anymore actually). And though your (then) girlfriend never liked it, you had convinced her it was just a friendly pet name. Because that's exactly what it was.

To you.

To Yuna it was the closest she'd ever feel to being your girlfriend. But you started using that pet name less and ever since Somi came around and ruined everything more than it already was ruined. Yuna even had to change her contact name on your phone to include the word 'baby' so you wouldn't forget to call her that.

She loathed Somi.

Somi was always the reason why you couldn't hang out with your bestfriend for too long, why you couldn't call her Baby on certain occasions and why you couldn't look at her as a potential girlfriend. Somi was an attention thief. Not really. But it felt like it. Yuna was jealous of everything Somi had with you.

Because your girlfriend obviously was a threat, Yuna felt like she needed even more of your validation than before (which was already a lot). She needed your attention. If you ignored her she'd think it was your way of telling her that you had left her completely for Somi. Ridiculous! She shouldn't feel like you owe attention to her.

Your friendly fucking friendship was the closest thing Yuna had to being together with you in the way she really wanted, so she valued it a lot. Not having you as her girlfriend was painful enough, but not having you as even her friend would break her.

Right now you weren't validating your time together, nor your friendship — or at least it felt like it to Yuna. She always needed. Your attention and unlike normally, she wasn't getting it right now. Her smile dropped and so did her excitement for the day.

Was this the end?

She knew that spending one week without each other would lead to more time for you to spend with your damn girlfriend but she didn't know it would lead to the end of your friendship.

No way she'd bail on the picnic plans.

Baby Yunanana🍓

[can i pls come over? i bought fruits for u<33 i'm sure fruits is exactly what u need right now!!]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[idc if i get sick or not bc i still wanna hang out w u]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[pls 언니]

Sent 11:33

You had ignored her only once before and it was a horrible experience.

The way you ignored her (on accident) was so hurtful that she had to leave the gathering that she had looked forward to for so long, confusing the other guests, to go and lock herself in a bathroom so she could cry without bothering anyone. You'd gone right after her since you knew it wasn't very Yuna-like to leave a fun time for no reason. After you had knocked on the door and reassured her you were her best friend and not a random person coming to make fun of her, she let you in the bathroom.

The sight you were met by was her crumbling figure on the floor and overflowing tears on her cheeks. She had thought that you wanted nothing to do with her. Stupid you didn't see the obvious signs. It was because of the fact that you hadn't paid any attention to her that Yuna had gotten the idea that you had grown bored of her or that you wanted to leave her for Somi (she hadn't told you the latter part, of course). And weeks later you did get together with Somi. And that made her cry herself to sleep for days which you never knew.

How much your lack of attention and affection for Yuna had affected her was scary. And a fucking sign, you idiot. Nobody gets so worked up over the loss of affection of someone they view as a friend. Ever since that incident you'd made sure to always remind her of how much you value your friendship.

Except for today.

She thought she had made it clear enough to you that you never ever should ignore her unless you really meant It. Unless you really wanted to part ways. To go from the bestest friends to cold acquaintances. Some people might think it's crazy to be this attached to a best friend but you weren't just her best friend. You were her love and happiness. Without you she didn't have either.

Five minutes passed since she triple texted you and she still had no reply. Slowly she felt how her tummy was turning into knots and how her eyes started stinging.

Baby Yunanana🍓

[ur making me worried]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[hey!! text me so ik u didn't die from choking on strawberry milk 언니😰]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[r u ignoring me?🫠]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[unless u have corona, meet me by the river at 6 if u care abt me. i need to talk to u abt smth important]

Sent 12:04

If you didn't show up she knew for sure that you had left her behind forever. If you did show up then she'd confess to you. So spontaneous. She couldn't keep her feelings away from you for another year because it wasn't healthy and she knew it. She knew she would have to tell you about her feelings sooner or later. And after being without you for a whole ass week and after experiencing the cruel punishment that is being ignored and even thinking you broke your dear friendship off, she knew the time had come for her to finally woman up and confess.

Whilst she was anxiously thinking through why she made such a bold move and possibly ruined any future she had with you, the girl she loved was being lazy and stuffing her face in pillows in front of a TV.

one season of Young Royals later...

Tossed between blankets and an overflow of pillows, your tummy roared like a lion. You hadn't eaten anything yet. Maybe it was time to do something other than numbing your feelings with Netflix and the drinks you had at home? As you stood up you felt heavy. You had moved maximum 100 meters in the past few hours — to go to the bathroom then kitchen and back to the living room — and it had taken a toll on your body physically.

Fuck.

You sat back down on your sofa and brought your phone to view after hours without it.

[6 new messages from Baby Yunanana🍓]

Fuck. The last message was sent so long ago. You looked at your windows. It was dark outside. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. As fast as you physically could, you put on a pair of shoes and a jacket with your aching limbs.

In just a few minutes you were on your way to the closest bus station. The whole bus ride to the river was filled with thoughts putting you down. Your favorite person in the world was sensitive about this stuff and you hurt her. You were supposed to not let your bad mood affect anybody around you. But who were you kidding? Of course something had to go wrong with an idea you constructed and analyzed for four microseconds.

Before you knew it you had arrived at the destination. You were speed walking to the river. You two always went to the exact same spot by the river since it was usually vacant, by some miracle, and had a pretty view of a bridge.

You were naive enough to think that isolating yourself from your bestfriend and your phone would help solve your problems, so you were certainly naive enough to go and check if Yuna was still at your meeting place hours after you were supposed to meet her. What if she wasn't there? What if she was there?

The water was shimmering from the moonlight and next to it was a bench and a thin, tall silhouette. Your eyes widened. Could it be...? Sniffles. That's the sound that came from their direction. You walked closer and could make out the lines of a figure that was all too familiar.

"Baby?"

The silhouette turned around and though it was dark you could see that it in fact was her. You quickly sat down beside her and noticed that a couple of notebooks were scattered on the ground next to a bike. You didn't know what to do, never having seen glad Yuna cry. After another particularly loud sniffle you turned your attention back to her. The light of the moon exposed the redness and tears on her face. For hours she'd been outside and her face was still wet with tears.

"Why are you still out at this hour?"

She choked on her tears and rested her face in her hands, "Because I'm a fool."

"No, you're not a—"

"Why are you here?" she interrupted you.

Touché.

"You told me to meet you if I care about you."

"You come here hours later as if I don't mean anything to you," she hurried out before her voice could crack.

"I'm sorry about that. But if I didn't care about you I wouldn't show up at all," you spoke with a soft tone. The last thing you wanted was to be harsh, especially since you were the reason your best friend was upset.

"Why did you do this to me, 언니?" she looked you in the eyes as if she'd find any answers inside them.

"I promise I didn't do it on purpose. I would never hurt you on purpose," you took her hands into yours, oblivious to how the simple gesture made Yuna a bit hopeful on the inside.

Her hands were so cold it was shocking that she was shaking because of her crying and not because of the ice-like coldness. That's what happens when you're out for hours when there's no sun — or person — to keep you warm.

"I saw the messages 20 minutes ago and got here immediately. I would never purposely ignore you, Baby."

You made sure to use her nickname in almost every sentence you spoke, silently telling her that you don't want to fight. Slowly you brought her hands to your lips and kissed them lightly, five kisses on each hand for every finger. She looked at your lovely action and felt how her tears were slowing down. The kisses didn't make her warm — maybe for a second — but at least they made her feel somewhat better inside.

"I'm so, so sorry you had to be here in the cold," you apologized and kept her hands in yours as an attempt to warm them.

One part of Yuna wanted to continue being mad and make you feel bad for the hurt you'd caused her but the bigger part wanted you to hold her in your arms. She loved you and couldn't stay mad at you for long even if she tried.

"I-It's OK, 언니. At least you're here now," she whispered and looked at your locked hands, admiring the sight since it may never happen again — or maybe she should make sure her hands are cold more often—

You sent her a sorrowful smile and let her head rest on your shoulder, resting your own against it as an instinct, both from being comfortable and tired.

"From now on I will check if I have any texts every hour for you," you said with an exaggerated joking voice to lighten the mood.

She giggled. You weren't even being that funny but you were both tired and sad, so anything even a tiny bit funny was hilarious to both of you.

"What did you want to tell me before, Baby?" you whispered into her fluffy hair and petted it.

Should she tell you how she feels? Should she possibly ruin this? If she told you how she truly felt, would you ever kiss her hands like you did just now? Would you ever touch her this caringly ever again? Would you continue to call her Baby? Or would all of that be gone due to your loyalty to your sweet precious girlfriend Somi?

For hours Yuna had been outside in the cold waiting for the love of her life so she could tell her the truth. But it took time before you, the love of her life, showed up. Too long.

When a person is alone outside with notebooks filled with blank pages to write feelings and stories in, it's easy to let emotions take over. She ended up writing around seven poems. Some poems were really cheesy and written in the spirit of the moment. Some didn't even rhyme. Some were a perfect description of where she was in her non-existing love life.

But they all had one thing in common.

They were melancholic and written from the point of view of a woman who was hopelessly in love with her best friend.

"Nothing. I just wanted to have a picnic with you, 언니. I was just being dramatic to convince you to come despite feeling under the weather," she lied right through her teeth.

That made no sense because you two had never been on a picnic after sunset and Yuna would never lie to make you come see her. But you were tired and desperate to leave the cold outside, so you chuckled lightly, believing her immediately.

"Then where are the snacks?" you asked, confused since the only things around you were notebooks, a bike and water.

"I ate them."

Laughter filled the air; your genuine one and her fake one.

You put your face in her cheek, making her blush (not that you'd notice, since her cheeks were already red from before), "Well, my tummy is a little too thin right now, so let's go somewhere."

"In the middle of the night?" she questioned.

"Yes," you smiled against her cheek and she felt it, making her smile too.

"OK."

You both were still smiling when you were picking up all the notebooks to get ready for the ride. Jokes were thrown here and there. It was as if nothing had happened. You both knew it was a misunderstanding and you valued the friendship with the other too much to put energy into arguing. And you were tired too, so the argument wouldn't even be that epic even if you tried.

"What about your bike?"

"Oh nooo! The buses are always so full now that it's too late to take the subway!" Yuna whined.

"You know what? Since I was a jerk you can go take a warm bus while I ride in the cold," you said impulsively.

"B-But, 언니—" she smiled, flattered.

"B-But nothing," you interrupted her and sat down on the bike. Anyone who had spoken to you knew you were stubborn. She laughed. The little sadness she had left was gone by now. Her cheeks were dry. Still red, but not from crying, now they were red from blushing.

"OK, whatever you say, 언니."

"You brought a transport card right?" you made sure since she came by bike.

"Yes I do~ See you in an hour, 언니," she winked at you and waved with a smile brighter than the moon before running to the bus that just arrived.

You waved back to her and got ready to bike — you definitely needed a head start. But before you started you couldn't help but see something white standing out in the darkness.

It was another one of Yuna's notebooks. You must've been too tired to notice it when you were picking them up. Thankfully the notebook was open or else you wouldn't have noticed it as it had a dark cover. You took it into your hands. To make sure it really was Yuna's you needed to read at least a snippet.

You prayed it was Yuna's because it would be worse if you read a stranger's private thoughts than your best friend's since you already knew all her secrets. The snippet was Yuna's. It was from one of the pages of poems that didn't rhyme, that was very cheesy but depicted how sappy she was feeling and also told her part of the story that you never knew.

i want to feel my best friend's lips on my lips

ugh how much of a cliche gay can i be haha

i don't want her to call me 'baby' only

i want her to call me 'mine'

i want to call her that too

You drop the book on the grass. So that's what she wanted to tell you.

✦ ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ✦ ੈ ✦ ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ✦ ੈ ✦

❝ Jenny, darling, you're my best friend

But there's a few things that you don't know of

Why I borrow your lipstick so often

I'm using your shirt as a pillow case

(...)