#I just want to shake him and tell him it’s ok to let loose

[deathsweetblossoms]

Darlington keeps trying to blame his unbridled desire for Alex on drugs and being turned into a demon. Lol. It’s okay, Danny. You can just desire someone and allow yourself to come undone because of it. You don’t need all these other silly excuses. You quite literally survived hell. I think you can let yourself want someone that you wanted before you turned into a demon.

(In all honesty, I do love and appreciate the fact that their emotional connection is being so carefully crafted and built upon, because Alex needs that. But still it’s frustrating as hell.)

[buckymorelikefuckme]

fri(end)s

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 3.8k

warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** friends/roommates to lovers oh my god they were roommates, smoking weed, brief mutual masturbation, frottage (i think that's the right word idfk i'm all out of practice), p in v sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that), reader has nipple piercings bc i said so, slight pain kink? mayhaps? ok pls let me know if i’ve missed anything!

a/n: i made this fic my bitch tonight. this is absolutely not proofread or beta'd, you're just gonna have to take it for what it is, sorry not sorry. anyway, it’s been too long since i wrote for this beefy man :’) i really hope you like it. this was originally very loosely inspired by a scene in what’s your number? but it quickly gained a mind of its own to become what it is now, so. there ya go. title is from the song of the same name by V of bts thank you very much. any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is greatly appreciated and heavily encouraged!!! xoxo

bucky barnes masterlist || main masterlist

Bucky’s introduction to weed was something you’d been supremely proud of.

When the two of you became roommates, you both had been kind of quiet and kept to yourselves at first, which isn’t too unusual, but you noticed that Bucky almost always had a frown etched into his handsome face. A frown that only ever softened after a night out with his friends and, you assumed, a decent hook-up. It never took long for that frown to reappear, though.

You didn’t know what could have been so stressful for him, but you knew he needed a way to relax, and not just for himself, either. The sight of him glumly moving around the apartment—honestly, you’ve never seen someone make fixing a bowl of cereal look so fucking sad—was beginning to weigh on your own nerves.

So, naturally, you thought of asking him if he’s ever tried weed. Somehow, his frown had deepened at that question. He said no, shocking absolutely no one, and then you asked if he wanted to try it. Admittedly, he was a little hesitant at first, but he eventually agreed.

The way his body, all two hundred and whatever pounds of muscle and angst, sank into the recliner like a ragdoll when the high really hit him made you grin. Though, to be fair, you were already smiling, what with you also being high. It was the first time you saw a real, genuine smile from Bucky, and you were immensely pleased to have given him a way to decompress from whatever kept him so tense all the time.

It became a sort of thing for you two. Saturday nights were for getting high, binge-watching Love Island (UK, because you both have class, thank you very much) and raiding the pantry for all the good snacks when the munchies hit. You’d never tell anyone, but those nights quickly became something you looked forward to every week, something you could cling to when your own life got a little difficult. Who knew smoking weed—and on a few special occasions, doing edibles—with your roommate would make a friendship blossom so prettily?

***

After how late Bucky got in last night, you knew he’d be sleeping in and would more than likely have a hangover. So, for this particular Saturday morning, you get up and quietly start gathering your laundry while Bucky snores loudly into his pillow from his bedroom. You were getting behind on it anyway, down to your last pair of clean shorts.

Before you put them on, though, you purse your lips in thought, staring at your pile of dirty clothes. You didn’t want to put on clean shorts with the panties and shirt you slept in last night. It would be smarter to wash them with the rest of your clothes, right? But that would leave you topless, which, you wouldn’t exactly be opposed to it, but you’re not sure Bucky would appreciate waking up to you walking around with your tits out. Or maybe he would? Whatever, it doesn’t matter.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and then remember that Bucky did his laundry yesterday, and knowing him, he probably left at least some of his clean clothes in the dryer. Surely he wouldn’t mind you borrowing a shirt.

With that plan in mind, you dump your clothes into your laundry basket and make your way down the hall to the doors where your washing and drying units are (a major selling point of the apartment, if you’re honest). Just like you thought, Bucky’s left a load in the dryer, and even some of his button-downs are hung up on the drying rack. You quickly pull your t-shirt off, shivering against the cool air, and reach for one of the hangers, slipping his shirt off of it and onto yourself. For a dress shirt, it’s actually quite comfortable, obviously one of the shirts he wears more often with how soft and a little worn the fabric is. You shimmy your panties down your legs and add them to your pile, grabbing your clean shorts and tugging them on, too.

You make quick work of starting your first load of clothes, closing the doors to muffle the sound of the washer, and head back to your room to do your morning routine. By the time you’re done and have also cooked yourself breakfast, Bucky is staggering down the hall and into the kitchen, hair a tangled nest atop his head and eyes bleary.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you greet with a teasing smile.

He flips you off and beelines for the coffee machine, pouring himself a cup and not speaking a word until he’s downed at least half of it. Part of you is concerned for his esophagus, but you’ve long since come to the conclusion that Bucky’s probably got a thing for pain—both physically and emotionally.

“Remind me to tell Sam he isn’t allowed to bring Natasha on our nights out anymore,” he grumbles, voice rough from both sleep and a long night of drinking. “I’ve never taken so many shots of vodka in my life.”

You hum. “Sounds like my kind of woman, actually.” He cuts his eyes at you, silently judging while taking another sip of his coffee. “Want me to fry up some bacon and eggs for you?” You almost laugh at the way his expression immediately switches to pleading.

The rest of the morning is spent finishing your laundry and putting it all away, even gathering up Bucky’s clothes that he’d left and dumping them on his bed. You’ll leave the folding to him, though; your generosity only extends so far, after all.

Lunch rolls around and you both decide to order takeout from the burger place down the street, Bucky shushing you when you keep insistently whispering for him to order extra truffle fries (which he does order, after you’ve sworn pain of death if he doesn’t) and once it arrives, the two of you settle around the coffee table in the living room, putting on a random movie to watch while you eat.

And of course, when the sun begins to lower on the horizon, you start pulling out your stash and getting everything ready. Bucky’s already got the windows open in the living room to let the smell air out as you smoke, and he also has Love Island queued up and ready to go.

While you smoke the first joint, you make the conscious decision to bake a small batch of brownies for later. Bucky sits on the counter beside you, passing the joint back and forth as he quietly watches you work. Wordlessly, you hand over the bowl and spoon to him after you’ve poured the batter into the awaiting pan. No matter how many times you’ve tried to warn him about salmonella he always insists on licking them clean.

Sometimes, in these moments, you forget how surly he used to be with you. Not that he was ever rude or anything, but he never would have pouted about not being able to eat raw brownie batter before you helped him break down some of those walls of his.

***

“He’s such a dick,” Bucky mumbles a while later, face impassive and tone bland as he refers to one of the islanders of the show, slouching so deeply into the couch he’s practically become one with it.

The high from the first joint is finally kicking in fully, doing its job of releasing every ounce of tension from your bodies. It’s also making your mouth dry and tummy rumble for snacks. Thank god you made those brownies and Bucky unearthed some candy from past movie nights and lots of chips out of the pantry cabinets.

You hum at his comment. “Most men are.”

Bucky turns his head in your direction with an affronted expression that has you snickering. He goes to reply, giving you the sassiest once-over you’ve ever seen, but his eyes doubletake on your torso and he pauses. He stares for a moment.

“That’s my shirt,” he states.

You look down at the shirt in question, of which you’ve worn all day long and somehow he’s only just now noticing.

“Wow, you’re like Sherlock Holmes or something,” you drawl.

Bucky stares some more, and then, “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

“Because I had laundry to do and I needed something to wear while all my stuff was washing,” you say in a “duh” tone.

“But…” He frowns. “It’s my favorite.”

You snort inelegantly. “Bucky, you literally have, like, at least four other white dress shirts.”

“So? What, I can’t have a favorite one just because I have more of the same color?”

“Christ,” you say on an exasperated exhale. “I’ll give it back before bed, okay? I don’t wanna move right now. I’m scared I’ll bump into stuff again.”

Bucky huffs a laugh at that, which turns into a full-blown giggle fit that is contagious. Soon after your shared laughter dies down, the conversation moves back to the illicit love triangles among the islanders. You trash talk the couple that Bucky likes, just to see him get riled up and rant about how they’re the most real couple of the season and everyone else is just jealous. He gets red in the face and pouty when you remind him that this is a heavily produced show about pretty people getting a chance to get famous for being pretty people by hooking up with each other and playing stupid games that mean nothing in the grand scheme of it all. Really, it’s quite cute.

To placate him, though, you get a second joint rolled and let him take the first hit.

***

Turns out this second one hits you rather harder than normal. It feels like your head is a balloon and your neck is the string tethering it to the rest of your body. Everything feels much more sluggish compared to all the other times you’ve gotten high with Bucky. Somewhere in the depths of your hazy brain you remember that you’d gotten a different brand this time around; perhaps that’s why.

On the tv, the islanders are getting ready for bed, and once the lights go out in their room, some of the couples engage in some serious heavy petting, lifting their comforters for a semblance of privacy. The sounds start next, sighs and low moans, and it all begins to settle into your subconscious. Between one lazy blink and the next, you realize you’re… actually kind of horny. It’s not enough for you to really pay attention to it, not at first, just a little sprinkle of it, a tiny twist in your core that briefly has you pressing your thighs together then relaxing again.

But then the arousal builds up inside you so slowly and easily that you don’t even realize your hand has apparently grown a mind of its own and found its way down your shorts. You inhale sharply at the touch of your fingers against your clit, lashes fluttering as the sensation registers. The sound gains Bucky’s attention from where he's been lounging on the opposite end of the couch with his head tipped back and eyes closed.

They’re not closed anymore. Out of your peripheral, you see his head shift in your direction, feeling the weight of his stare like a physical thing. Your mind is both connected and disconnected from your actions, half-aware that this is probably not the smartest thing to be doing, that you’re absolutely crossing a major boundary. Touching yourself in this way in front of your roommate, your friend, is so not normal.

Yet, for some idiotic reason, you leave your hand down your shorts, continuing to lightly pet at your clit, neediness rising steadily. Even though you know he’s watching—and suspiciously quiet—you can’t help but let your fingers slither down to where you’re beginning to drip to gather some of your slick and bring it back to your clit and swirling your fingers at a sedate pace, sighing as your nipples tighten underneath your shirt.

Bucky is as still as a statue, gaze honed in on the movement of your hand, on how your thighs ease open more and more the longer you play with your pussy.

It takes very little time for your eyes to wander over to the man just a couple feet away, and to then notice and fixate on the growing bulge in Bucky’s sweatpants. The weight of his stare is almost a physical thing and you swallow roughly as you think about what he might look like, if he’s at all how you’ve secretly imagined when you’re alone in your bedroom, in much the same position as you are in now.

His hands creep towards his thighs and smooth down the expanse of them and back up, slowly, over and over, like he’s teasing himself. Like he’s teasing you. Your fingers don’t stop as you lift your other hand to tweak and pinch at your nipples through well-worn cotton, a tiny noise slipping past your dry lips.

Bucky pulls the hem of his shirt up, exposing part of his toned stomach and only hesitates for a split second before he lowers the waistband of his pants, pulling his cock out and matching the pace of his strokes with the pace of your fingers. The head of his cock is pink and precum makes it shine under the low light of the lamps in the living room.

You bite your lip as your arousal increases from the sight alone, and you decide to follow his lead, just a bit. You whine from the loss of stimulation when you remove your hand to shimmy your shorts down and off your legs, letting them fall to the floor carelessly. And now, Bucky has an unrestrained view of your glistening cunt as you sink two of your fingers inside yourself and use your other fingers to rub all around your clit. It has you gasping, eyelids threatening to close through the pleasure that sparkles throughout every vein in your body.

It’s good. Amazing, even. And it’s only making you want more. Bucky, it seems, feels much the same.

“C’mere,” he rasps, tone leaving no room for arguing, never mind that you wouldn’t have argued anyway.

You sit up on the couch, knee-walking over to where he’s still in his slumped position, never pulling your hand away from your clit because it feels like you’d cry if you did. Bucky curses under his breath and lets go of his cock to firmly grab you by the hips and tug you onto his lap. Your pussy ends up aligned perfectly with his cock, and you both shudder as you begin gliding back and forth across it, small movements that only increase the suspense of what likely comes next. He meets your eyes, red and glazed over from both the high and the toe-curling feeling of his cock along your wet center.

The kiss, when it happens, tastes like weed and the peanut M&M’s you both were snacking on just a little while ago. Bucky's tongue licks into your mouth like he can’t get enough, nips at your bottom lip to hear you whimper, gets a fistful of your hair and pulls and guides you until you’re pliant for him.

He knocks your hand away from your clit, but before you can complain about it he’s nudging the head of his cock against your entrance and you’re gasping all over again, grinding sloppily as you try to get him inside you. He finally sinks the head in and you allow gravity to aid you in taking the rest of him, moaning brokenly and high pitched at the stretch of him inside you. Bucky groans deep in his chest, hands clutching your waist like a lifeline as you slowly circle your hips, getting used to the feeling.

You stay like that for a few minutes, your breath and Bucky’s mixing hotly between you, and then you finally start fucking yourself on his cock. He grunts when you clench around him on the downstroke. You decide you like the sound, and you really wanna hear it again, so you repeat the action, moaning when the grunt is accompanied by a curse and his fingernails biting into your skin.

It takes what feels like ages for you to realize your thighs and knees ache from riding him, the weed making everything feel like it’s floating, including yourself, but Bucky sees the furrow in your brows and the shaking strain of your legs, and in the next second, he’s got you both moved from the couch to the floor. Time ticks on glacially slow like molasses as you stare up at him whipping his shirt off from where you’re sprawled on the carpet, your limbs shifting lethargically when he spreads your legs to better fit himself between them.

He fucks you hard, but not fast. you’re both much too high for anything fast, yet it still feels like your heart is going to pulse out of your chest, rabbiting away like you’ve run a marathon. Bucky buries his face in your neck, mouthing at your skin while he thrusts almost lazily.

Suddenly, his large hands encapsulate your hips, fingers pressing into the fleshiest parts of them as he sits up, getting his knees under him so he can rest on his haunches. He keeps your ass in his lap and your legs spread on either side of his waist. It makes your back arch and hips tilt up into a position that has you shuddering and sobbing when he begins to grind his thick cock deeper into you.

“I could stay buried in you for hours,” he mutters.

He reaches for the throw pillows on the couch and puts them under your hips, and then he fucks into you so hard it steals the breath right from your lungs, your mouth hanging open on a silent cry. His thrusts are sharper now, angled to perfection and making your toes curl so hard you fear them cramping and body jolt when he glides all the way back in. You gasp when Bucky rips open your shirt (his shirt, your mind helpfully supplies) and sends the buttons scattering across the floor. Those will be a bitch to find and clean up, but that’s a problem for much later.

“Fuck,” he grunts when he sees the piercings glinting in your nipples. “I fucking knew it,” he continues, squeezing each of your breasts in his hands and pinching your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, making you gasp again, pushing up into the sensation.

“Knew—“ You cut off with a whine when he pinches harder. “Knew what?”

“You walk around here wearing those goddamn cropped tank tops as tight as possible with no bra. Thought I was going crazy when I saw what looked like piercings underneath them,” he confesses as his hands travel back down to grip your waist, never losing his rhythm while he pulls you down to meet his thrusts.

At the sight of your tits bouncing with the movement of his hips, he groans, gravelly, his top lip curling as he grits his teeth and squeezes your hips so hard it hurts, and it only adds to your pleasure. With the way your skin is tingling, your pussy fluttering around him nonstop, you’re not sure if it’s because Bucky is fucking you that well or if it’s the weed. It’s probably both, and you have a split second thought that you’ll just have to test that theory once the high wears off.

It’s almost ironic, you think, how wet and messy your cunt is compared to how dry your mouth feels. It probably doesn’t help that your jaw seems to be permanently slack as you’re unable to stop your gasping inhales, only to exhale sounds you might be embarrassed about if you were clear-headed. Alas, your mind is a lot more focused on the way Bucky is splitting you open and carving a space inside you all for himself.

“So much better,” you whisper absently, fingers clawing at the carpet beneath you.

“Better than what?” he wonders, shifting to grip under your knees and push them up, changing the angle.

You cry out sharply, writhing uselessly in his hold. “My imagination,” you whimper.

Through bleary, tear filled eyes, you glance up at him just in time to see his lips pull into a boyish smirk.

“Mine too,” he confesses and sends you reeling.

You whine and reach down quickly to rub your throbbing clit, your whole body jerking as your pleasure mounts higher and higher. Bucky moans as he watches, stare trained on where you’re joined. His speed does pick up then, the slightest bit, a shudder wracking his frame as you clench down on him, head tipping back and exposing the long expanse of his throat for a brief moment before he suddenly leans over you, letting your legs fall into the cradle of his elbows.

“Won’t you be good for me and cum?” he asks, breathless, hips never letting up.

You open your mouth to reply but all that comes out is a strangled cry of his name, your fingers keeping their pace as your climax swells until it overflows, bursting like a firework and pleasure like you’ve never felt before sparks through every vein, muscle, and bone within you. Bucky curses in such a way it would make a sailor blush as you pulse around him. The sounds of your orgasm and his thrusts meeting your hips are the filthiest things you’ve ever heard, and it doesn’t stop for several moments, dragging on and on. It leaves you trembling and shaking and trying futilely to gather air in your lungs as he refuses to let up.

With great resolve, you bring your wet fingers away from your sensitive clit and up to his panting mouth. He groans at your taste, licking and sucking on your fingers as he chases his own release.

“Please,” you whisper, tears finally escaping your lashes and trailing down the sides of your face, and that seems to be his undoing.

Bucky moans, something high and broken, fucking into you rough enough that you’re worried about carpet burn. But then he pauses, gasping as he finally lets go and rides out his high.

Your hand slips from his mouth and falls to the floor like a deadweight. The only noise in the room now is the both your and Bucky’s harsh breathing and the television still playing that stupid fucking show. Bucky doesn’t move right away, of which you’re very thankful, because you’re not ready to feel the emptiness you know is coming, and it feels nice in a weird way to have him buried in you.

“Fuck,” he exhales, breaking the relative silence.

It makes you giggle, a small thing that turns into something uncontrollable, and when you manage to look at Bucky, he’s grinning in a dopey way that sets you off even more.

This is definitely something the two of you will have to talk about when you’re both sober, but like the buttons, that can be handled later. Although, something tells you it’ll all turn out just fine.

[megameatymatt]

Wet Dreams - Matt Sturniolo

"Now i'm in your wet dreams. You said don't know what it means. Now all you wanna do is sleep. Let me show you what it means"

WARNINGS: innocent!reader x Matt, smut, slight fluff, cussing

A/N: Feedback, interaction, and requests are appreciated! ok bye

requested?: nope

word count: 1,128

Pink: Y/n

purple: Matt

You and Matt have been best friends for what feels like forever. He's been there for you during your lowest and highest moments. Nothing can come between you two; he would never let it happen. You tell each other everything—you know all his secrets, and he knows all of yours.

Except for one.

"You wake up in a sweat. You wake up, and you're wet, mmm"

Your eyes shoot open as you wake up in your bed. Your body burning up, and your palms are sweaty. Your heart races as you quickly look beside you. You sigh in relief; it was just a dream.

You slowly sit up and feel a warm, sticky sensation between your legs. Your cheeks are bright red as you replay the events of your lustful dream with Matt. Out of everyone, your erotic dream had to be about you and your best friend.

Your phone buzzes, pulling you out of your trance.

You glance at your phone, your heart still racing, and you see Matt’s name flash on the screen. A mix of excitement and embarrassment swells in your chest. You hesitate for a moment, wondering if he somehow sensed your dream. Taking a deep breath, you swipe to answer.

“Morning!” His voice happy and calm

“G'morning Matt…” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual. “What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you still want to grab lunch today?”

Your mind races. Spending time with him feels terrifying after that dream. “Sure, sounds good,” you say, attempting to sound nonchalant.

“Great! I'll pick you up soon.”

“Okay, see you soon, Matt.” You hang up and feel a flutter in your stomach. You know you must shake off the dream, but it lingers like a vivid secret between you.

"I've got you wrapped around my hands, and, fine, you got me too The world knows all your secrets, only I know the whole truth"

You sit in Matt's passenger seat as the playlist you two share blares through the speaker. You cant seem to take your mind off the lewd dream of yours. I mean, it's not like you hated the idea. But loosing matt to an intimate moment was never something you wanted to happen. So you bottled up your feelings and stored them away.

“You good there, Y/n?" The way he says your name, you can't help but think of the way he was moaning it in your dream. You force yourself to snap back into reality. "What do you mean?" He turns to look at you, "You look like a dear in headlights over there, tell me whats wrong".

You chuckle nervously, trying to brush off his concern. “I’m fine! Just a little tired, I guess.”

Matt raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “You sure? You know you can tell me anything.”

His sincerity pulls at your heartstrings, making you even more aware of the line you’re trying to walk. You shift in your seat, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks again. “Yeah, really. Just had a weird dream.”

“A weird dream, huh?” He grins, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Care to share?”

Your face is burning up again. He's stoped at a red light, looking at you, waiting for an answer.

"Of you and i" You say hesitantly avoiding his eyes. "Yeah? And what were we doing?" he says taking your hand an caressing it slightly.

You feel the same wetness you woke up with as your stomach starts to flip. "I-i don't know" you say. He takes your chin and turns your head to face him. "You had your head, b-between my thighs."

He smirks, "You been havin' wet dreams of me, doll?" he says taking a strand of your hair behind you ear. By instinct, you squeeze your thighs together.

"Lemme show you what it means"

You don't even know how things got here. All you know is that Matt has pulled over in some field, and you're in the backseat of his car with your legs over his shoulders. Just like your dream

"You sure you want this baby?" You shyly nod. "Matt, I just, I've never done this before." "I know, baby, I know. I'll go real slow, okay?" again as he presses his lips against yours. "Tell me when you want me to stop, and I'll stop, okay?" You nod eagerly, desperate to feel his lips on yours again.

"Fuck, i've needed this for so long Y/n, you're so beautiful". His lips move down your neck as he sucks it, leaving his mark on you. You let out a moan and tug on his hair.

He lifts up your skirt and pulls off your panties. The exposure causes you to whimper and close your legs. He simply spreads them back open and just admires you.

He lowers down kissing your inner thighs before licking up the middle of your slick folds.

You immediately arch your back and accidentally squish his head between your thighs. "Matt," You whine. He smiles "You're okay, sweetheart, I've got you".

His mouth on your pussy feels like pure bliss. He kitty licks your clit and then sucks it, causing you to arch again. You gasp, "Gosh Matt-oh my- oh my gosh.' You moan uncontrollably. Your hand flies down to grab a fist full of his shaggy brown hair in an attempt to push him away.

You feel a knot in your stomach. "Matt!" you yell, trying to get his attention. He looks up to see your other hand on your lower stomach.

"You gonna cum? Come for me, princess," he says, using his fingers to rub circles on your clit. "How?" You say, whining. "Just let go," he says before he goes back to sucking on your clit.

Your moaning is mixed with Matt's; the sound fills the car. Your eyes roll back as you feel it. You cum, squirting it all over Matt. He wastes no time and licks it all up, looking back up at you with a proud smirk.

Your legs are shaking and your back is arched off the seat. You open your eyes to see Matt's staring right back at you, admiring his work.

"Fuck Matt" you say, feeling your heart. "So good you swore huh?" you smile. "i love you" If your cheeks weren't red before, they definitely were now. "I love you too Matt" You say shocked. "Let's get you home so i can clean you up"

"Well, tell me more, nothing less"

The two of you decided to spend the rest of the night snuggled in your bed, watching a movie. "Matt?" You look up at him. "yes, pretty?" You smile. "Thank you." He smirks and rolls his eyes.

"Just let me know when you have a 'weird dream' again"

Taglist: @sturnobsessedwh0re

[moonstruckme]

I am clean from sh for about 6 months now (yay me) and lately, idk why, I’ve just kinda been struggling with accepting my scars and the fact that I’ll have them probably forever and your writing is really comforting and actually helps, so I wanted to ask if u could maybe write something with Spencer helping reader feel ok with having them on reader‘s thighs?

totally understand that that’s a touchy topic and if u don’t wanna write it, I also completely get it, thanks anyway for even reading this xxx

Ahh yay you!!! Congrats baby, and thank you for requesting <3

cw: past self harm, some nudity that's really not sexual but they joke about it a bit

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You’re sweltering. D.C. doesn’t usually get very warm, but for the last week you’ve been on a streak of record-breaking temperatures that’s made your clothes stick to your skin and has caused even your perpetually chilled boyfriend to refrain from putting on his cardigan until he gets inside his work each morning. Just walking between your car and various air conditioned buildings is enough to make you consider moving to the Arctic. 

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping inelegantly down on the bed to peel your jeans off. “Can we turn the A/C down to sixty, please?” 

“Let’s start with seventy,” Spencer negotiates. You hear his footsteps stop halfway down the hall as he adjusts the monitor. “I think we still have some lemonade left, if you want some.”

“Ugh, yes.” You tear your jeans off your ankles with enough force to nearly send them flying across the room and sigh blissfully as the A/C kicks on. 

You change out of your sweaty shirt too, going for your pajamas despite it being hours from darkness falling. You have no plans to go out into that hellscape again until tomorrow. You hesitate over a pair of pajama shorts before slipping on loose pants instead, not quite as cool but still light enough to allow some air flow. 

“I love you,” you tell Spencer when he passes you your lemonade as you come into the living room, sitting beside him on the couch. Ice clinks inside your glass, which is already forming little beads of condensation. You have the urge to rub it on your face. “I mean, unconditionally, but especially right now.” 

“I’ll take it,” he jokes back, tilting his head back so his face is in the path of the A/C vent. When he looks up, he finds you pinching up the fabric of your pants around your knees, trying to create a pathway for the air to move up your legs. “Why are you wearing those?”

You know what he’s asking you, and you intentionally misunderstand. “I felt like it was pajama time. No way am I going outside again today.” 

“Right, but aren’t you warm?” Spencer tilts his head. He looks like a particularly cunning puppy, brown eyes soft and inquisitive.

“A little,” you admit. 

“Then why not wear something shorter?” 

“That’s awfully forward of you.” You do your best to give him a smile. It doesn’t stick around long in the face of your boyfriend’s serious expression, increasingly worried. “Maybe I don’t feel like parading my legs around for you.” 

You can see the cogs turning in Spencer’s brain, and the usually fascinating process is suddenly almost painful to watch. You know he’s thinking of what you refusing to wear shorts used to mean, how nobody ever thought anything of it because, again, D.C. doesn’t tend to get very warm. How evasive you were about it then, too. An uncomfortable weight settles in your stomach. 

“Is there a reason you don’t want them out?” he asks, and his voice is gentle but his gaze is unflinching. 

You try to hold it as you shake your head. “I’m still clean.” The words seem to take more air than they should. Your guilt and embarrassment are enough to choke on. “I promise.” 

Spencer nods. “I believe you.” 

His eyes don’t so much as twitch down to your covered thighs. Relief like a cool breeze passes through you. It’s no small thing, his trust in you. Not after you’d gone so far out of your way to hide the evidence of your hurt from him before. 

“But it’s still related to that, isn’t it?” He lifts his glass, taking a sip before wiping the corner of his mouth. You almost smile, picturing your boyfriend in an interrogation room asking questions with this same gentle tone and wide open, curious expression. You don’t think Spencer could ever be harsh. 

“Yeah,” you say. What felt like something private and humiliating a minute before you suddenly want to share with him. Spencer tends to have that effect on you; he makes divulging your most gut-twisting secrets feel natural and easy. “My scars just haven’t gone away. I don’t really want to see them.” 

Spencer’s mouth pinches. “You know they won’t ever fully go away, right?” 

“Yeah.” You sigh, but it doesn’t feel like letting anything out. “I know.” 

“They will probably fade, though.” His fingers circle your ankle loosely, calluses skimming softly over your achilles tendon. “Is it that you don’t want to see them, or you don’t want me to?” 

You rub your lips together. Shrug. “Both, I guess.” 

He tilts his head. Like your answer is expected, but nonetheless perplexing. “I don’t care if I see them,” he says. His hand coasts up your leg, over the fabric of your pants, until he grasps it by your knee. “Can I?” 

You nod. You know he’d let it go if you said no, but it’s not worth begrudging him. “Sure.” 

Spencer brings both hands to the fabric at your hips, and you lift your bum up off the couch as he pulls downwards. Your legs are happy to breathe, the cool air coming out of the vent even nicer than you’d thought it would be. Spencer keeps going until your pajama pants are balled up underneath your feet. 

“You really were hot,” he says. It’s neither teasing nor gloating, a simple statement of fact. His fingers come to rest at your ankle again, and it’s the only kind of warmth you’ll allow. “Is it actually worth it?” 

You look down at your thighs. Your skin feels better than it had covered up, but it’s also a physical reminder of things you’d rather forget. “I don’t know,” you reply. 

“I understand why you don’t like them,” Spencer says. When you look up, you expect him to be as stuck on your scars as you are, but he’s looking at your face. His stare is calm and unmoving, like they don’t command his attention the way they do yours. “But I think they may be with you for a while. It might help to start trying to get used to them.” 

You blow out a breath. “I want to.” 

“I know,” he says. Easily, the way he’d said I believe you. And you think that he probably does know. Spencer has things from his past he can’t fully leave behind, too. 

His forefinger moves slowly up and down the back of your ankle, an absentminded gesture for him and a comfort for you. Slowly, his eyes dip down to your legs. You fight the urge to squirm and hide. 

“You know,” he muses, “there’s actually one thing I sort of like about seeing them.” 

Your top lip starts to curl automatically, your brows pulling together. “What?” 

“Just, that they’re old.” Spencer seems not to have noticed your reaction. His gaze is contemplative. “I mean, it’s not that I’m looking for them all the time or anything, but it’s nice to see them and know there aren’t going to be any new ones. These ones will fade, and then that will be it.” 

Something new clogs your throat. It’s just as heavy as before, but far kinder. 

Spencer looks up at you. He looks sheepish, the corner of his mouth uptilted self-consciously. “Sorry, it’s a weird line of thinking. I don’t want you to think I’m always checking on them.”

“No,” you swallow, “I get it. That’s nice, Spence.” 

He shrugs. “It’s the truth.” 

You could almost laugh. He makes things so simple. “I’ll change into shorts.” 

“You don’t have to,” he says. “If you’re already cooling off.” 

“Oh, yeah?” You keep your voice light, grinning at him as you shuffle over to straddle his lap. His fingers brush over a couple of the lines on your thigh as he brings them around your back, and the sensation doesn’t make you feel as shuddery as usual. You hug him with your arms around his neck. “You’re cool with me just staying like this then? No pants?” 

“Not if you don’t want to wear them,” he says agreeably. 

You laugh and hug him harder. “Thanks,” you tell him sincerely. 

Spencer only makes a soft dismissive sound as he hugs you back. 

[merthosus]

Don’t kiss the cast members part 2

Summary: After practicing a scene with Aidan, he did not quite stick to the script. Now you need to maneuver the situation smoothly, without getting into trouble. But Aidan had other ideas. Ignoring everything until he breaks down onto you like clouds soaked with rain.

@tobyisdumb your wish be my command

Rough, fast and so unbelievable good.

The taste of his bittersweet lips still stuck onto yours. You wanted to do it again, no doubt. But your mind stoped you, seeing the problems, which come with it. “Aidan we can’t..." you stumble across your words, but before you could end your sentence he smashed his lips again on yours. His smell alone tarnished all of your senses. The more you kiss, the wetter the kiss is, you feel how his hands push you harshly more into him.

It felt like he lost control, not caring anymore, that we are on a set, anyone could possibly enter. "Aidan", you mumble onto his lips, which were still occupied, exploring you. Suddently he grabbed your thigh, pulling it to his side. He shudders and lets a loose pant fall out his mouth. He seems shocked himself, his body goes tense. He let's go of you, his body leave's yours.

You watch him as he walks back to the desk pulling the script from one of the deco books and walking out. You felt empty, shocked... you couldn't even find a fitting word for it. He left faster, than your brain could comprehend. Reality flogs right into your face. He kissed you. Rough, fast and so unbelievable good. But leaving you like this was not okay, defiantly not. Suddently your anger came back. Fist he makes out with you and then he let's you hanging like this.

You get out of your paralysis and grab your script. This was not professional, it was everything but professional. You cram the peace of paper into your handbag and walk out of the set. You need to get into another set to film a scene with Robert. He squeaked as he saw you and welcomed you happily. It's miraculous how he always lifts the mood when he is in the room. "Heyyyy", he says while hugging you. As he steps away again and looks you deep into the eyes.

"You ok? You kinda look... bewildered", he tries to word it nicely. "I don't know, something very confusing happened", you tell him without saying too much. "Funny, Aidan had the same flustered expiration in his face as he walked by. Are you two a thing?", he asks you. This was a big part of his personality, teasing people with rumors. "Course, we made out in the back of the set", you say matching his tone.

-

After filming the scenes, you get out of your makeup and walk to the buffet. Getting a hot coffee after a long filming day was your treat. You let one of side of the script on the set you and Aidan had 'rehearsed', so you grab your things and go to set 36. You text your mom that you will be home soon and that you took a croissant for her at the buffet. You look up from your phone searching the room for the paper you had lost. You hoped that nobody took it.

You couldn't quite put your finger onto it but you felt watched. You turn around and search for the eyes, which were looking at you, but you found none. "Hello?", you ask. Suddently you get pressed into the wall beside you. You let out a scared squeak, as you feel hands on your hips. Aidan stands before you, his thin body pressing you into the wall. "What do you want?", you ask him, rougher than you actually intended to.

"You", he whispers. "Aidan this is insane", you mumble, as you look into his, with hair covered eyes. "You let me standing there after what you just did", you say. He shakes his head and lays his hand on your cheek. "I am sorry I just didn't know what to do", he ends his sentence in a whisper.

Aidan's intense gaze locks onto yours as he leans in closer, the weight of his presence almost suffocating. "I know," he whispers, his voice laced with regret, "I shouldn't have walked away like that. But I... I panicked." His breath is warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

His confession hangs in the air, and for a moment, the tension between you both feels unbearable. His hands tighten slightly on your hips, as if he's afraid to let go, yet unsure if he should hold on. The smell of him—earthy, with a hint of something sweet—clouds your thoughts, making it hard to think straight. "You can't just do that," you murmur, your voice trembling with the emotions surging inside you. "You can't kiss me like that and then act like it never happened."

His eyes soften, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features. "I know," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know, and I'm sorry. But I can't stop thinking about you. About us." The weight of his words crashes down on you, and for a moment, you forget where you are, the set, the script, everything fading into the background. All that exists is the space between you two, filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

Aidan moves closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "I don't want to run anymore," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "But this... it's complicated. We're complicated." You feel your resolve weakening, the warmth of his body so close to yours drawing you in, but the rational part of your brain fights back. "Adian, this can't just be... some fling. We have to work together. What if—" He cuts you off with a kiss, softer this time, but no less intense. It's as if he's trying to pour all his confusion, frustration, and longing into that single moment. And despite everything, you find yourself kissing him back, unable to resist the pull between you.

When he finally pulls away, both of you are breathless. "I don't know what this is," he says quietly, "but I want to find out. With you." You stare at him, heart pounding, as you try to make sense of everything. The logical side of you knows this could lead to disaster, but your heart... your heart is telling you something else entirely. "Aidan," you begin, your voice steadying, "if we do this, we have to be careful. This could get messy. Really messy." He nods, his expression serious. "I know. But for once, I don't care about the consequences. I care about you."

His words leave you speechless, and for the first time, you allow yourself to consider the possibility. Maybe, just maybe, this could be something more than a mistake. "Okay," you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. "But we take it one step at a time. No more running." A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he nods. "One step at a time," he agrees, his hand gently caressing your cheek. For a moment, the world feels like it’s standing still, the only thing that matters is the connection between the two of you.

I hope you like it, let me know what you think about it :)

[inthedoghousern]

settle down

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: lando has always been a good friend of your brother, so you know he's off limits, but sometimes you just can't help yourself. guess you'll never learn. inspired by "settle down" by the 1975.

contains: 18+, cursing, alcohol/drinking/smoking, suggestive content (make outs!).

4.4k words

a/n: ok let me clarify: loosely inspired. this isn't reallyyyyy the 'storyline' of the 1975's settle down, but that's okay!

You're wearing your hair down and it slightly covers your face as you go to answer the knocking coming from your front door. When you open it, you're surprised to find your brother's best friend standing there. 

"Oh, you're early, no?" You ask, puzzled, while pushing your hair behind your ears. You knew your brother was throwing a party tonight, but that was in a little bit, and your brother wasn't even home at the moment. 

"He told me to come early to help set up. Whatever that means," he answers. 

"Not sure if he knows that because he's not here," you tell him. Your brother is an idiot. "Well come in I guess." You shrug and move to the side, motioning Lando in. 

You didn't really mind. Of course, you and Lando were friendly, considering he was so close with your brother. When you were younger you even hung out with the two of them a lot. As you got older, their racing and your school stuff just caused the friendship between you and Lando to be more casual. And it was fine. Sometimes schedules would work out and Lando, your brother, and you would cross paths. But for the most part, you just followed his life online like everyone else. 

Though you had to be honest, back then, Lando didn't seem to have much of an effect on you, but now as he stands in front of you, you feel a lump forming in your throat. When did he get so good-looking?

You don't know what has come over you as the two of you enter the house. You feel like falling all over the place. You two make your way to the living room and sit on the couch. It's silent for a moment before Lando speaks up.

"Where even is he?"

"Pretty sure he's stocking up on drinks for tonight. I don't know why he wouldn't have waited to bring you, or just like, tell you to come later." You shake your head. 

Lando laughs and shakes his head too and the silence returns. 

Now you ask a question. “Hasn't been just us in a while, huh?”

“It's been a minute.” Lando chuckles along with you, the silence now slightly less awkward.

You lean back on the sofa. “So how are you? I haven’t seen you in forever,” you ask with a smile. 

“I’m good, I’m good. Honestly, nothing too interesting going on.” He shifts on the couch.

The two of you sit in silence again, until Lando speaks up. 

“You're staying for the party, right?”

“Yeah. Thought I’d stick around this time.”

Lando tilts his head to the side. “Is that so?”

Your stomach does a flip. You try to shake away the thoughts entering your mind. He’s your brother's best friend, you've known him for years, you need to relax. 

“Mhm,” you hum in response. 

Lando looks down for a moment and then over at you. 

“When’s your brother getting back?”

“Not sure.” You open your phone and check his location. As you look away, Lando eyes wander to your neck, then your torso and legs, then your lips, all in the span of a few seconds as you sit on the couch next to him. He had spent countless hours with your family, sat and talked with you many many times. What a familiar face yours was to him. But today he couldn't help but notice something had changed between you. Was it all the time you had spent a part? Or maybe the fact that he's finally seeing you in person and not through a screen. Lando would never admit it, but lately he tended to linger on your social media posts longer than he should.

Lando meets your eyes again when you look up from your phone.

“Yeah, I have no idea, looks like he's still shopping. Do you want me to ask?”

Lando shrugs, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. 

“It’s alright, I was just asking.” He leans back again, stretching his arms over his head as he does.

You can’t help but look at the exposed skin of his stomach when his t-shirt rises. Your eyes glance down, but you look away as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. 

But Lando does notice your brief glance down and back up again. If you could see his expression, you’d notice it’s a mixture of amusement, and something else. He doesn’t say anything though. Instead, he leans forward, speaking slightly softer. 

“You know, I've missed seeing you.”

You can feel heat rising up the back of your neck. Still, you feel a smile tugging at the sides of your mouth and now the two of you are making eye contact. “Oh really?”

Lando can feel your breath on him. He lets out a small breath himself, letting out a shaky laugh. He looks you deeply in your eyes and brings his arm to the back of the sofa behind you. 

Time seems to move extremely slowly. The atmosphere is charged, your eyes locked on to one another. Lando holds your gaze for a moment, waiting to see if you have anything more to say. 

You lean towards him. He feels you press yourself against him. The two of you are so close together, you can feel Lando’s body heat rising, his muscles tightening.

He leans forward, brushing his lips against yours very softly.

You kiss him back. As you do so, Lando gently moves his hands to your waist and pulls you closer to him and you wrap your arms around his neck. The kiss continues and grows much more passionate. You feel Lando’s hands moving up and down your back, the two of you fully enveloped in one another.

Your position shifts, and now you’re sitting on his lap. Still connected in your kiss. 

Lando’s mouth moves along your jaw, “Fuck Lando,” you breathe out as he kisses your jaw and neck. Your hands are buried in his hair. 

Your words bring a small chuckle from him, and he smiles into your neck. He's finding himself so fixated on the girl with the soft sounds. Her hair all over the place. 

You're also fixated on this boy. Lando Norris. The guy you've known your whole life. The guy who's best friends with your brother. The guy who was off limits. He isn’t supposed to be the guy to make you feel like this, and yet, here you are, on top of him. 

Lando’s hands slide under your shirt as he continues to kiss you. 

The feeling of Lando running his hands all over you and his suffocating kisses are almost enough to make you forget where you are. Who you are. Almost. The illusion breaks when you hear a sound from outside. 

A car door shutting. 

The two of you freeze. As one, you both turn your heads. The sound is followed by footsteps. Heavy footsteps. 

It’s your brother.

“Fuck,” you laugh, panicking. You quickly slide off of Lando. 

“Goddamnit.” Lando shakes his head with a smile and sits back. 

You’re both a bit of a mess. You two are breathing heavily and you're flushed. Your hair disheveled. You’ve just barely finished fixing yourself when you heard your brother’s voice from the front door. 

“I’m back.”

“Hey!” You clear your throat. “Lando’s here." 

“Thought so, I saw his car in the driveway.” Your brother steps into the living room, a bag in his arm. 

“What’s up man,” Lando gets up. “You got more stuff in the car?” He asks your brother. 

“Yeah a few more boxes,” he responds. 

“Alright let me help.” They walk back outside together and you lean back on the couch, looking up and covering your face with your hands. 

You sit there for a moment, feeling a bit shaken. You feel a little dirty almost? But you can’t stop thinking about the way Lando kissed you.

You let your hands fall to your sides before the two of them walk back in. Your brother sits on the couch and Lando sits in a chair across from you. Just a few feet away. It’s like nothing happened. You know he can't be found with you.

Luckily, your brother is completely oblivious. 

“People should start getting here in like an hour,” he comments. 

You get up from the couch. “Alright, I’m gonna get ready then. See you guys later.” 

You rush upstairs and shut the door. Your heart is pounding, and you’re still in disbelief. As you lie down on your bed, your mind races with everything that just happened. 

You cannot let your brother find out.

He would probably kill you, or kill Lando. 

No, he’d kill both of you. 

-

You spend more time than you should getting ready, but you’re hoping to calm down a little. Eventually, you start to hear music from downstairs, and the bass shakes your floor. You also begin hearing the sound of voices and laughter as your brother greets people at the door. 

You take a deep breath as you look at yourself one last time in the mirror. Now or never. Just avoid him. 

You walk down the stairs and are immediately met with 'hellos' and 'heys' from different directions. You greet as you weave your way through the house, and finally, you get to the kitchen. You beeline to the fridge, getting a drink. 

“Hello helloooo,” you hear from behind. When you turn around you're met with your best friend. 

"Hey!" Her arrival is a breath of fresh air after feeling so out of sorts with Lando. She gives you a big smile and hugs you tightly.

“Thank god you’re here,” you say as you pull away from the hug. “Get a drink and then we need to talk. It’s important.”

Your best friend gives you a curious look, raising her eyebrow at you in surprise. She glances around for a moment and then back at you. 

“What is it? Is something going on?” People are in and out of the kitchen around you two. The house is getting busier and busier. You look around quickly and then whisper in your friend’s ear, “It’s about Lando.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” she whispers, a look of excitement in her eye and concern as well.

“Yeah, I know. Now get a drink and let’s get outside or something,” you laugh. 

“Are you being serious? Did you fuck Lando?” She leans in closer as if she doesn’t believe what she’s hearing is real.

“Shush! Oh my god come on.” You pass her a drink and grab her hand, pulling her behind you. 

Though, as you try to exit the kitchen people are also walking in, causing a bit of a standoff. And of course. It’s Lando and your brother. 

“Hey what’s up!” your brother greets your best friend. 

Out of you four, your brother is the only one who is out of the loop on the current... situation.

Lando directs a nod toward your friend but soon looks back at you. You're staring back. 

“Hi nice to see you both I was just going out for a smoke talk to you later goodbye," your best friend quickly rambles to the two boys, and then you both push past out of the kitchen. 

You can feel Lando's eyes on the back of your head as you go out the door.

-

You sit on the porch and she lights a cigarette, taking a drag, and then turning to you, “I can’t believe it. You’re not fucking with me right?” She says laughing. 

You laugh and put your head in your hands. “I’m being so serious," you mutter but then look up again. "But we didn't sleep together. It was just a... heavy makeout...? That got interrupted."

She starts laughing and you laugh with her, the two of you in disbelief. 

“Dude you can’t just hook up with Lando! Oh my god, your brother is going to freak out.” She says, still laughing. 

“I know. He cannot find out.” You smile and take a sip of your drink.

Your best friend looks at you over her cigarette, “…well, I mean, was it good?”

"It wasn’t bad…” you trail off with a grin. Your best friend smirks as you speak, raising her eyebrow and laughing out loud. 

“It wasn’t bad.” She repeats, and you can hear the amusement in her voice. 

“You’re a mess.” She says, and the two of you burst out laughing as if it’s not a big deal at all. She's right, you are a mess. You're avoiding him and yet wondering if he's talking 'bout you too. 

The two of you keep talking and drinking on the porch until your cans are empty. “Alright,” you say slapping your knees and standing up. “We should be social, and I need another drink.”

“You would be right," your best friend says immediately and gets to her feet. You’re relieved to have her with you, maybe she’ll help you keep your mind off of Lando and what just happened. And getting another drink wouldn’t hurt either. 

“C’mon.” Your best friend pulls you away from the porch and the two of you reenter the party.

-

You're back in the house and the night resumes. You have fun for a bit, talking to your other friends, drinking, and doing some shots. You know Lando is here somewhere, but you don’t know where and you don’t really care. Don't want to care at least. 

At one point, your best friend pulls you aside again, “I’m gonna have another smoke, you coming?” she asks. 

“Yeah sure, I could use some air.” You two go outside again. It's gotten later and you're feeling the cold air prickle against your skin. 

She lights her cigarette as someone else from the party comes out, and they light up too. The three of you talk for a while, but you're starting to feel too cold, and you're the only one not smoking. 

“Hey, I’m going back in,” you tell her. She nods, “Cool, I’ll see you inside later, I’m gonna chill out here for a bit.” 

You head back into the party, and once again it’s crowded: people are moving between rooms, there’s music blasting, and you can smell the liquor in the air. 

You're pushing through bodies as you walk through the living room. You pass someone and the two of your arms collide hard. You go to mumble a 'sorry', but you stop yourself when you see who it is. 

Lando. You both pause. 

You feel the heat coming off of his body and your chilled skin from the night air touches against him. You're cold and he burns. You shiver, unsure if it's from the temperature outside or the man standing in front of you. 

“Cold?” he asks leaning close so you can hear him over the music. 

You laugh, “I was just outside. Won’t take long to warm back up in here though.” 

He smiles slightly at you and nods, but the look in his eyes reveals he knows there’s more to it than that. 

You can still feel the heat coming off of him, and you don’t know how to avoid it. You’re trying to block out the memories of what happened in this living room earlier, but it’s pretty obvious the tension between the two of you is still there.

“Wanna go get another drink?” he asks. 

There’s a part of you that knows you should say no, but there’s also a certain adrenaline rush that courses through you in his presence. He doesn’t seem to care about the circumstances, and he’s actually making this interesting.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Let’s get a drink then,” he says, grabbing your shoulders and turning you towards the kitchen. You walk ahead as he follows with his hands on your shoulders. The sensation of him holding you makes your heart race, you feel like his touch could burn a hole right through you. 

You get to the kitchen and Lando lets go of you, making his way to the fridge, grabbing you both drinks. You sit on the counter as Lando stands in front of you with his own drink.

You take some time to just look at him, your eyes locked on his, and he looks right back at you. There’s this air of tension between the two of you and despite neither of you outright acknowledging it; you both know. 

“Having fun?” you ask him, taking a sip of your drink. 

“Yeah, I’d say so,” he teases you, taking one step forward so that he’s standing closer than he was before.

“Are you having fun?”

“Yes, I am,” you say looking down at him from your position on the counter. 

“Good.” 

It’s such a simple word, but the way he speaks it is almost provocative. Everything about him right now is like that.

You both sip from your drinks, and he’s so close to you that you feel like you could lean forward and kiss him without moving. The idea has you feeling a bit dizzy.

You don’t say anything and neither does he; everything between the two of you is so intense, so silent. You're losing your words. You two are speaking in bodies. 

You break the eye contact and don’t say anything as you put your drink down and get off of the counter. You and Lando are nearly pressed together for a moment when you get down, but you move to the side and start leaving the kitchen. 

Confusion is all over Lando’s face, he turns as you walk by. 

“Where are you going?” He laughs as he starts to follow. 

You start moving through the party to the stairs, and you don’t look behind you to see if he’s following. You know he is. As you get to the staircase you start climbing up and Lando's nearly on your heels with every step you take. 

When you reach the second floor and it’s dark and quiet. You open the door to your room and walk inside, Lando is right behind you as you do so. You enter the room and hear Lando closing the door and clicking the lock. The party is downstairs, and up here it’s a different world. 

You and Lando stand there for a moment, and the silence is deafening. You both know why the other came to this room and in the low light, he moves closer to you. 

You can feel his hand wrap around your waist slightly and he pulls you towards him. Lando smiles softly as you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, and your body is pressed against his. 

“You know…” he whispers to you, “I really would like to finish what we started earlier…”

“Or is the idea of your brother being downstairs too much?” he whispers softly, as his hands move to the small of your back, holding you gently and close to his body.

The air seems to be hot as you press yourself against Lando. Your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, the heat coming off of his body as he leaned his own against you. 

“I love the guy but I really wish he wasn’t here. Or that anyone was here,” his voice almost a whisper, “but I guess that means we have to be really quiet…”. 

You smile and shake your head, “I guess…” your eyes are flickering from his eyes to his lips. You shouldn’t want this, but you really do want this. 

Lando smiles back, his hand trailing your back slowly. It’s a tease and you know it. His one hand starts to move up your back, making its way towards the back of your neck, and he brings his free one to the side of your face. Your arms are still wrapped around him. He traces his fingers along your cheek slowly, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. 

Your bodies are close together and you can feel their heat against each other. The air is thick, and you know what needs to happen next.

You both lean towards each other and meet in the middle, finally tasting each other again. The kiss is filled with passion and you can feel his lips on yours, his tongue meeting your own.

Lando deepens the kiss and you're pushed back into the door. Pinned between his body and the wall. He doesn’t break the kiss and his hands slide down your body, moving down to your hips. 

Lando starts kissing down your jaw and neck again. There is an ease about the way he moves now, he can take his time now that you're behind closed doors. 

He makes his way down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind him. The feeling is electric as his hands rest on your hips still, his touch is soft and tender as he moves his lips back up and kisses you again on the lips.

The feeling of your hands in Lando's hair makes him grin against you. Your kiss becomes more passionate as you pull his hair, and you can feel touch of his hands beneath your shirt. Fingers against your skin. Your mind is hazy from the kiss and the alcohol but you let the feeling wash over you. 

He tugs at the hem of your shirt and pulls it off of you. 

You break the kiss finally and breathe in the heat of the room. With your shirt removed his hands trail the bare skin of your back and sides, and his lips trace your neck.

The heat is so intense it makes your body feel like it has a mind of its own.

You lightly push him off, towards the edge of the bed, with a laugh. He laughs with you and goes along with your push, sitting down. You see that he has a smirk on his face, and as you look him over he leans back on his hands and continues to watch you. 

The air is tense with a build-up of tension, waiting for the next move.

You stand in front of him and grab both of his arms, lightly pulling them up above his head. Lando chuckles softly at the move, and with your help, he lifts his arms fully to keep them there. 

You pull the shirt off of Lando slowly, revealing his bare chest. You can see his muscles twitch slightly from your touch.

When the shirt is tossed, Lando’s hands rest on your hips again, bringing you closer and pulling you down on top of him. 

He's watching you with half-lidded eyes, a soft smile on his face, and his hands slide up your sides and your back. The feeling is intoxicating, you feel your breath coming quicker and quicker as Lando’s hands make their way up your body.

You kiss him again, hands grasping his shoulders. Your bodies are pressed together and the heat of the moment is too much to resist. You can feel Lando’s hands all over you, caressing your shoulders and neck, and playing with your hair.

He groans as you grind against him, and he lets one of his hands move to the small of your back to pull you closer to him. Lando wants more of you.

Then

Suddenly someone is trying the door handle and there's knocking. You and Lando quickly break away from the kiss. For crying out loud. 

“For fucksa-“ Lando starts but you slap your hand against his mouth. 

“Settle down,” you mouth at him. 

“Hey, are you in there?” You recognize your best friend's voice from the other side of the door. You can feel Lando smiling into your hand. He shakes his head and leans into your shoulder. 

You clear your throat, “Yeah I’m in here!” you answer. You hear Lando chuckle softly but he keeps quiet as he is pressed against your shoulder. 

“Are you alright?” your friend asks from the other side of the door, “I’ve been looking downstairs for yo-”

“Yeah I’m alright” You interrupt. 

“Okay, well….” you hear your friend hesitate for a moment, “...wait. Shut the fuck up.” You hear her familiar laugh. 

“Do you have Lando in there with you?” she asks, her voice sounding louder, she must be closer to the door now. 

This question makes Lando laugh out loud. You hit his chest. He was the one who was saying we had to be 'so quiet' and now he just confirmed his presence.

You can hear your best friend laugh as well on the other side of the door, and you know she won’t stop until she hears you answer the question. 

“Yes, I do," you admit, “Now go away!”

Your best friend laughs even harder outside. “Alright alright. Bye. Bye, Lando. I’ll try to keep your brother away too, you're welcome!” She finishes and you can hear her leave. 

“She knows?” he laughs against your ear, “I thought this whole thing was secret…”

“Shut up. Be happy it was her at the door and not you know who,” you joke. 

Lando grabs your hips and lifts you off of him. In a few swift motions he has you lying on the bed and he’s on top of you. He leans down and kisses up from your collarbone to just under your ear.

“If we get interrupted one more time…,” he trails off into your ear and then pulls away looking at you. His face right above yours. 

You shake your head smiling, you run your hands through his hair looking up at him. 

Lando smiles back at you. You can see the desire in his eyes. 

You can still feel his breath all over you from his kissing just moments earlier. Your skin is sensitive from the heat, from him, and you feel a wave of goosebumps run up your body just from his touch. 

Lando leans forward and the two of you kiss again.

The bass from downstairs vibrates through the floor and drowns out the music, the voices, the party. 

Your head is spinning. This is so wrong. But also it feels sort of right. Whatever was happening between the two of you was going to make your life chaotic. But even so, the same thought keeps running through your head…

Now I just can’t stop myself around you. 

[demonsslayersstuff]

Male Hashira x Reader (Holding Your Hand)

A/N: I have not done one of these in a while and recently I feel like I've put Demon Slayer on the backburner because I'm currently watching AOT and JJK just ended, but Demon Slayer is my fav, so I want get back into it. These are just drabbles/ head canons of how the Male Hashira would react to reader asking them to hold their hand. No warnings, mostly fluff.

Kyojuro Rengoku:

This man is and will always be top husband material, so he would 100% be down to hold your hand

Honestly I feel like he would ask to hold your hand instead of the other way around

Rengoku has zero shame in holding your hand in public and finds it to be an enduring way to show others you are taken

He holds your hand firmly, waffle style and does not let goooooo, lol

You spot the all to familiar blazing red and yellow hair as you make your way through the various stalls of the outdoor market. You and Rengoku had just finish up a mission and wanted to do some quick sightseeing before heading back. "Kyo", you call sweetly, grabbing his attention immediately. He looks over at you with a large smile as you approach him. "Shall we continue to look at the other vendors?", he asks you. "Yes, but..", you begin. "But what?", Rengoku asks, eyebrow raised, looking down at you. "Can we hold hands?", you whisper to him. "Absolutely, I want to hold your hand", Rengoku says loudly as the nearby vendors politely hide their chuckles. Rengoku's hand slips into yours with ease, firm grip, but soft at the same time. You spend the next hour going to the various stalls and not once does he let go of your hand.

Uzui Tengen:

Would totally be down to hold your hand, zero questions asked

This man only has two hands (well, he did 😶) and 3 wives + you, so sometimes hand holding can become a bit precarious

Tengen would make the effort to give each of his partners equal hand holding time and similar to Rengoku, no shame in public hand holding

Also a waffle hand holder, occasionally traces patterns in your palm with his thumb, telling you he's thinking about you.

"Lord Tengen", you call sweetly as the two walk back towards home carrying the goods you'd just bought. "Hmmmm", he muses, glancing to look at you briefly. "Would it be ok if we held hands for a bit?", you ask with a slight blush gracing your cheeks. "Of course love", Tengen replies, his hand immediately holding yours. As you continue down the familiar path you feel a gentle squeeze and you look up at your husband. Tengen smiles down at you before pulling your hand too his lips, kissing it softly. "Uzui", you laugh. "Just making sure my girl knows she's loved", he responds. The two of you walk home, hand and hand the rest of the way.

Giyuu Tomioka:

I see this going two ways. Firstly if y'all are married, he is 100% holding your hand. Giyuu would be a caring husband (in my mind at least) so if you asked to hold his hand, he would

If y'all aren't married this boy would be shook, someone wants to hold his hand?? With a bit of coaxing on your end I could see him holding your hand in a more private setting

Giyuu keeps a gentle hold on your hand, not to tight, not to loose, just righttt. I don't see Giyuu being a waffle hand holder except in the bedroom if you know what I meannnn 😏😏

I feel like Giyuu would use hand holding as a way to express his care/ love for you without using his words. Had a bad day? Giyuu's hand is in yours

You find Giyuu resting comfortably against the tree, nose deep into a book. "Giyuu", you call lightly, "Mind if I join you?", you ask. He looks up from his book shaking his head and scooting over as his respond. You sit next to him and pull out your own book before you hold up your hand to him. Giyuu looks at you for a moment confused. "I want you to hold my hand silly", you tell him with a light chuckle as you witness a cute blush forming across his face. "Oh", he mumbles. Giyuu gently grabs your hand, letting it settle on his lap, before the two of you focus back on your books, enjoying the comfort of sitting together quietly.

Sanemi Shinazugawa:

Listen I know we all like this hot tempered white haired man, but I feel he’d only hold your hand in certain conditions

Similar to Giyuu if your married his hand is in yours, like you don’t even need to ask, this man has his hand in yours the minute you step out the door. If your not married then he’s not holding your hand until your at least seriously dating

Sanemi barely wears a shirt so he’d have no shame holding your hand in public, but a part of me thinks he has this “I’m stronger than you reputation” to uphold, so unless your together together, then sorry, he’s not holding your hand

I see Sanemi more of wrist holder (😮‍💨), like he holds your hand, but instead of your palm I feel like he’d grip your wrist nice and tight, but not uncomfortably tight.

“Nemi, I’m gonna run out to the market”, you call to your husband as you slip your shoes on. “Wait a minute, I’ll come with you”, he calls and you hear his footsteps walk down the hall. “Nemi, it’s a 4 minute walk I’ll be fine on my own”, you tell him as he comes into view. Sanemi gives you a pointed look before he puts his own shoes on. “Yeah, not happening”, he replies. As the two of you head out the door you feel his hand move to gently grip your own, his thumb tracing a delicate circle on your inner wrist. Maybe him coming wasn’t a bad idea after all.

Iguro Obanai

Listen idk what it is, but this man gives me sub vibes 🫢, so if you ask him to hold your hand then boom done

You don’t even get to finish the question before his hand is holding yours, like this man wants to hold your hand too

Has no issue holding your hand in public, what you want you get. He loves to hold your hand too because he likes that it’s clear to anyone else your taken

Obanai will hold your hand in anyway, waffle style ok, just your pinkies interlocked ok. This man just wants to hold your hand

It was a quiet day as you and the Snake Hashira stroll around the gardens getting some fresh air. You sneak a peek at the man beside you, enjoying the way the wind ruffled through his hair. “What is it?”, Obanai questions, catching you starring at him. “Nothing, just enjoying the view”, you reply back, watching as he fidgets with his fingers at your words. “Iguro would you like to hold-”, you start, but before you even finish your sentence Obanai comes to stand next to you, your hand already in his. You laugh before giving him a gentle squeeze. “My my, someone was impatient”, you quip as you pull him along towards the pond, enjoying the quiet afternoon.

Gyomei Himejima:

Gyomei gives me go with the flow vibes. Like if you want your hand held, he’ll hold your hand. If you don’t want it held, he won’t hold it

Isn’t big on PDA, but is comfortable with holding your hand in public if that’s what you want, but he won’t be the one to initiate it, that’s all on you

This man is a giant so probably not a waffle hand holder, his hand probably engulfs your own hand sooo it’s more like his big hand hand is hugging your significantly smaller one (😅)

When the two of you hold hands, Gyomei enjoys it, he loves being around you so holding your hand is just another way for the two of you to express your love for one another

“Darling”, you call as you watch the rest of the trainees hobble off after another harsh day of training under the Stone Hashira. “Shall we call it day?”, you continue as you come to stand next to your husband. “Hmmm, I suppose so”, he replies after making sure everyone had left. “Hold my hand?”, you ask him as the two of you make your way back home. “Of course”, Gyomei replies. His large hand grips as your smaller one as silence befalls you two. The walk home was a pleasant one, just the two of you strolling hand in hand.

[skzstannie]

"Let the memory-making commence"

SKZ -> ot8 x 9th member! reader

genre: fluff wc: ~2100 cw: none :) summary: After an emotional night, the boys cheer you up and try to give you something to look forward to surrounding the holidays again.

Here's Part 2 to "We'd never want you to struggle alone" Alsooo, I hit 100 followers a couple days ago, so THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Reblogs are more than appreciated!

Happy Scrolling! || Masterlist

Previously:

You all lay in each other's arms, and you feel incredibly comfortable and safe. Chan's the first to break the silence, "We have five days left until Christmas. What do you say we make some new Christmas traditions? We don't want to replace what you used to have, and you’re entitled to spend your Christmas season as you'd like. But, if you'll let us, we’ll give you something to look forward to about the holidays again. Please?" The guys are all looking at you now, each of them displaying a face that could rival a sad puppy.

You realize now that there's nothing to be scared of. These are your best friends you're talking about, who want nothing but to shower you in love and happiness.

"I'd love that."

So, the guys set out on their mission early the next morning, figuring they better start as soon as possible. After all, they had so many fun things they wanted to do with you before Christmas Day.

You were abruptly brought out of your peaceful slumber from an added weight landing atop your stomach. You startle, opening your eyes to be met with Hyunjin’s hair brushing up against your cheeks. You try to push him off you, holding up your title of being a grumpy morning person, but he won’t budge.

“Get up!” he whines, shaking your shoulders. “It’s already 8:30, and we can’t just let you sleep all day!”

“I’m not asking to sleep all day. I’m asking to sleep until 10, now please get off,” you struggle some more, pushing with all your might. You quickly give up though, finding your attempts futile against Hyunjin’s size and stubbornness.

“No can do, up and at ‘em sunshine!” he grips your blankets and whips them off you in a flash, leaving you shivering from the cold temperature of your room. He’s quick to throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and he begins to make his way out of your room.

Your fists pound on his back, your only desire to go lay back down in your warm bed. This doesn’t deter him however, so you give him a nice firm smack to his butt, making him yelp. You swiftly wrap your arms around his waist as he lets you slip a little off his shoulder.

“Hwang Hyunjin don’t you drop me!” you yell, holding onto him for dear life.

“I won’t, I won’t. That just hurt really bad, you little menace!” He puts you down once you’ve arrived in the kitchen, and his hands immediately reach back to massage his poor bum.

“Well, that wouldn’t have been necessary if you’d have let me sleep another hour,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Ok, no more Ms. Grumpy Pants, I only wanna make cookies with Ms. Sunshine, so if you could please find out where she is, that'd be great,” he retorts, a sarcastic smile taking over his features.

You roll your eyes but give in, allowing your lips to curve up into a genuine smile.

Hyunjin starts to gather the ingredients for making cookies, slamming cupboards left and right. As you busy yourself doing the same, you look up towards the kitchen entryway upon hearing some ruckus from the hallway. Seungmin and Felix practically bounce into the kitchen, looking way too excited for 8:30 in the morning.

Seungmin makes his way over to you, holding an extra apron that he plops over your head, tying it loosely around your waist. “Thanks Minnie,” you tell him, turning around to give his arm a gentle pat.

“Alright, let the memory-making commence,” Felix claps his hands and giving them a quick wash in the sink, reaching for a stainless steel bowl Hyunjin had set on the counter. “If we wait too much longer, everybody else will get up and crash our cookie making party.”

All was going smoothly, the four of you working together and following a recipe Felix had printed out, until Seungmin got a little antsy and decided to flick Hyunjin in the forehead with a flour-covered finger.

Seungmin laughs at seeing Hyunjin’s expression. “Flour boy,” he calls Hyunjin, breaking out in even more giggles.

In retaliation, Hyunjin grabs a fistful of flour and launches it at Seungmin’s face, leaving the poor boy coughing.

Of course, all hell breaks loose after that, and by the end of your food fight, all four of you end up absolutely covered in flour with a single egg plastered against the fridge door.

You guys managed to finish the cookies, having barely enough flour to make the batches. Once they’ve gone in the oven, the four of you decide to go shower and get cleaned up while they bake.

All the other guys have woken up by the time you’re finished with your shower. They’re all sat around the kitchen, the aroma from the cookies no doubt drawing them in. Chan goes over the plans for today, and you smile at his thoughtfulness. After breakfast- a.k.a Christmas cookies- you’re all going to go sledding, then come back to the dorms for dinner and a Christmas movie marathon.

After you’ve all eaten one too many cookies, everyone goes to get dressed for your first group activity of the day: sledding.

You realize you don’t have any appropriate clothing for sledding, the snow sure to seep through the nice coat you have, so you ask Seungmin if he has any extra garments that'll keep you warmer.

"Yea, let me find some really quick," he responds, diving deep into his well-organized closet. He comes up with two pairs of gloves, one slimmer and one thicker, a thermal, long sleeved turtle neck, a hoodie, and a huge winter coat.

"All of this will not fit on my body at once, Seungmin," you comment exasperatedly, overwhelmed by the weight of the clothes he just threw in your arms.

"Yes they will, and you will be warm. Go get dressed, we're leaving in a few minutes," he dismisses your concerns, leaving no room for discussion. He gives you a light push out of his room so he could get himself dressed and shuts the door in your face.

"Thanks!" you shout through the door, heading back to your room to layer up.

After putting on all the clothes Seungmin gave you, you feel like a marshmallow. A big puff ball, if you will.

You walk to the living room where everyone is waiting for you, ready to complain about how you are not going out in public like this.

They are quick to rebut, telling you how adorable you look while pulling you out the front door towards the readied van in the parking lot.

The drive is uncomfortable, all your winter gear making you all hot, everyone fitting a little tighter in their seats than normal. The ride is short, though, only about 10 minutes before you're all allowed freedom of the outside once again.

You let out a small chuckle upon seeing the hill you'll be sledding down. It's small, no taller than 20 feet, but the guys assure you it'll still be fun. Upon some further digging, you find out you're manager requested you partake in absolutely zero dangerous activities during your day off, and this is all the guys could convince him of.

You guys make your way up the hill, Jeongin and Felix dragging the sleds up. To make things more interesting, everyone decides two people will race down the hill at the same time, and the winner will be decided tournament-style.

Chan and Hyunjin go first, and Hyunjin wins by just a few feet. Next is Felix and Minho, and Minho pulls out ahead. Seungmin and Changbin go next, and Changbin wins by default because Seungmin wiped out about half way down the hill. You and Jeongin, being the maknaes, decide to team up against everyone else and ride together. Of course, this doesn't go without complaints from the rest of the members, Hyunjin giving you guys the nastiest side eye he could muster. The maknaes come out on top, beating Jisung by a landslide. Maybe it's because your sled had twice as much weight on it, or maybe it's because you guys are just better; it's up for debate.

By the end of the day, you and Jeongin reign champions. You all continue to sled for a while longer, and eventually your peaceful sledding session turned into a brutal snowball fight.

The culprit of the snowball fight was Minho, deciding it'd be fun to shove a handful of snow down Jisung's jacket. This of course lead to the development of two teams, Maknae line versus Hyung line.

You guys pelt the oldies for a few minutes, obviously gaining the upper-hand once your makeshift snow fort was built, courtesy of Felix and Jisung. However, you guys surrender once Jeongin is captured and threatened with handfuls of snow down his pants.

Once arriving at home, hot showers are in need, all your fingers and toes frozen to the bone. You get dressed in your coziest pyjamas, accompanied by a big hoodie and fluffy socks.

Chan takes it upon himself to order food in for everyone, and you all thank him before deciding on which Christmas movie to watch.

You reveal that one of your favorites used to be How the Grinch Stole Christmas, the Jim Carrey version, and everyone agrees to start with that one.

Your food arrives about a third of the way into the movie, and you all indulge on the much needed meal. You have some more Christmas cookies for dessert, and by the time you're finished with the food, the movie is over.

You all make light fun of Hyunjin for crying over the ending, but allow him to choose the next movie to try and put a stop to his dramatics. He chooses National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, and you're thankful for another comedy.

While the day has been quite fun, watching movies isn't as thought-provoking as a snowball fight, allowing some of your anxieties and negative thoughts to creep into the back of your mind.

You miss your family. You miss the way your grandma used to sit and listen to all your school drama and the way she'd gasp when you'd tell her what your best friend had done for a boy. You miss the way your father used to buy you a pair of earrings every year for Christmas. You still had every pair, your first being cute little bunny studs, and your last being a beautiful pair of Sterling Silver hoops. You miss your grandfather's sarcastic remarks; your mom found them insulting but you always thought they were funny. You miss your mom. Everything about her- her home cooking, her hugs, the way she'd always know what to put in your stocking.

You know now, after today, that it's okay to miss those things. You're supposed to miss your loved ones. However, it is not okay to live in the past and despise change. Your mom would've wanted you to celebrate Christmas with a family as loving as the one you have here surrounding you. You know she would've loved your members, every single one of them.

She would've loved the way I.N was your partner in crime in life, never backing down when you ask him if he wants to prank Chan with you. She would've loved the way Seungmin acted like your older brother, teasing you every chance he gets. She would've loved how happy Felix is, always acting as your light in the darkness. She would've been proud of Han for fighting through his anxiety and how he helped you with yours, never letting you feel alone. Your mom would've loved Hyunjin's art, the way he paints his soul on paper with a singular brush. Your mom would've been impressed by Changbin's health journey and motivation, and she probably would've secretly convinced him to drag you to the gym with him. Your mom would've admired Minho's gentleness towards animals and his love for his cats. Lastly, your mom would've loved the way Chan takes care of you, always making sure you're happy and well.

Thinking back to yesterday and how thoughtful and caring everyone had been, you decide to tell them your creeping thoughts. They, of course, comfort you, Changbin pulling you closer from your spot between him and Minho on the couch. They ask if you want to elaborate on your feelings, but you tell them no. It had been such a fun day, and for the sake of your mental health, you choose to try and busy your mind with the plot of the movie.

This works in your favor, and you’re able to replace your thoughts with laughter. Towards the end of the film, Changbin's comforting hold has begun to lull you to sleep, too comfortable and warm to keep your eyes open any longer.

"Thank you guys for such an amazing day. I had a lot of fun," you mumble into Changbin's shoulder, pulling everyone away from the movie for a second.

You hear a chorus of coos and whispered affirmations before you officially let sleep takeover your restless mind and body.

[youronlydarlin]

warning: kinda sad ANGST, Simon losses you :( , ooc kinda?? But he's soft for you only, trust me bro

This was kinda inspired by that one part in the comics where our poor, Si holds his mums skull, n he jus'... Kinda nuzzles into it. I dunno it just bought on some sad feeling, mkay...

Simon who slightly raises the cup of tea he's drinking each time he has one, just to let you know he's relaxing. Or trying his best too, at least. Doesn't know what he'll do if he worried you from beyond the grave. Sometimes he looks at all the belongings you left behind. Saying how they probably miss you, but not nearly as much as he does.

Unlike some, Simon uses your things. He doesn't want the house to go through the pain of loosing you too. So he drinks from your mug, and sits on your chair. Reads your favorite books, but never takes out the book marks in case you want to continue reading them. He also completes your bucket list for you, and even though he's the one doing them he always whispers 'good job, to the wind, hoping they'll carry the messenge to you.

Simon who speaks to your framed pictures. He remembers each, and every memory behind them. "Bet your happy... Now it'll always be my turn to grab the 'bloody groceries.." he jests. He hopes that one made you laugh. Knowing you, you would've. It's a mystery how you always laughed at his lame jokes. Though your laugh's always been better than the awful punchlines.

Simon who passes by that cafe you bugged him to go with you to, and he feels his throat go dry. He never got to take you there because of a sudden call from Price, telling him about an urgent, albeit sudden, mission. He definitely regrets not taking you out on dates more often. There's so many shops opening that he knows you would've loved to see.

Simon who's heart breaks at how quickly the world turns without you. Everything's moving so quickly, leaving him behind like it's already moved on, and he hates it. He hates how there's less clothes to fold now. Food is served, but only for one. The taste of it is flavorless, and dry. It's times like these, that he wishes he should have took the time and learn your recipes.

But what's worse, is that your side of the bed is cold. And it'll remain that way forever. At times he'll reach for you absentmindedly. Nightmares about war traded for dreams about you, but during those dreamless nights where sleep doesn't visit he'll stroke your pillow the same way he'd do to keep your hair out of your face, and pull the covers over the empty space you once occupied. He wonders if it's cold where you are right now. But just know that he's always willing to warm you up if ever you come back.

Simon who...

Stands at the doorway. Bag slinged over his shoulder, full of everything he needs and more for deployment. He knows he can't leave without properly saying goodbye, so he fishes out his wallet, and digs out a picture of you. He holds it up to his face, and it's funny. How you're not even staring at the camera when the photo was taken. No, you were staring at him. This one's always been his favorite. So he clears his throat, and wishes you don't hear the slight shake in his tone.

"..By now you would've told me to be careful.. And I will, by the way. But, m' sorry for all the times I didn't...'

....

" I have to go now. Don't need them gettin' on my ass for 'being late.. so.."

....

"..You just rest now, ok, love? There's nothing else for you to worry about' anymore. I love you, always. Wish me, and the boys luck, yeah?.."

He gives a light kiss to your photo, and it's as if you're with him when he steps outside the door..

a/n: This was a challenge to write, and I don't know what to feel about the results. I'm just polishing my english, I guess. M'not good at writing angst, you can probably tell, also my grammar feels off on this one, again. English isn't my first language, sorry. So please correct me on any mistakes I've made! But putting all that aside, I hope you like this more than I do! And, always remember that you are loved, and cared for! Have an amazing day, my darlings!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

[llamagoddessofficial]

A (late) birthday present for the coolest lady in the universe, @aka-indulgence , featuring her two favourite omnics. Because if anyone on this earth deserves to be squashed between two handsome robots, its her

---

“Human.” Zenyatta’s voice was... different.

You blinked, pulled out of your reverie. Ugh, you had just managed to stop thinking about how cold the monastery floor was under your butt. The omnics around you were meditating, as they often were; unimpeded by heat or cold, they sat dressed in only loose Shambali robes with their meditation balls floating effortlessly in front of them, utterly impervious to the snow piling onto the monastery roof above them or the icy chills that occasionally swept through the wide stone rooms.

Not like you. Even wrapped up in the only hoodie and coat you had bought with you, you were freezing.

You looked over at Zenyatta, sat right beside you, as he often was. Your knees were almost touching. Mondatta often joked that the two of you were ‘partners in crime’, a moniker that you were more than happy to adopt. Though out of the two of you, Zenyatta was by far the most criminal. 

Zen’s voice... it had a lilt to it you hadn’t heard before. Something almost careful - like he was worried about how you’d react to his words.

“Yeah?” He was actually sitting, too. Not just floating a few inches above the ground. He was looking right at you, cute head turned a little to the side. His constant expression was as sweet and gentle as ever, regardless of how he really felt.

“Are you alright?” 

Your brows furrowed. “O-of course?”

“You’re shaking.” He moved his hands from upturned in his lap, to flat on his knees. “You have been, for several minutes.”

You always appreciated how much Zenyatta emphasised his physical movements. It almost felt like he was doing it specifically to make life easier for you; he was always nodding, gesticulating with his hands, letting out affirmative hums and sighs, anything that would clue you in to his current thoughts. As if pantomiming human expressions for your benefit.

“I’m sorry. Is it making it hard for you to concentrate on meditating?”

“You’re cold. Aren’t you?”

You were embarrassed. Everyone around you at that moment literally didn’t feel the cold. The Shambali Monastery accepted human visitors throughout the year, but in winter, hardly anyone wanted to make the trek - and you were currently the only human in the entire building.

“A-a little.”

...

Zenyatta slumped. “We forgot you get cold. It’s the middle of winter in a mountain monastery. How could we forget you would get cold?”

You let out a tiny laugh. “I’m ok. Really.” 

A deep and reverberated voice, right behind you. 

“You’re cold?”

You jumped, at the sound. Holy shit Ramattra was literally just in the spot directly behind you. You looked over your shoulder at him - he was sitting cross legged, casual, as if he had been there the whole time. He definitely hadn’t been there when you sat down earlier. How did he move so quietly, when he was so huge? Those dark eye slits were watching you so very intently.

“H-how did you...?”

“You are.” Ramattra didn’t let up. He leant forward, it felt as if he was staring into your soul. “You’re quivering.”

His tone made you shudder. Even though Ramattra spoke far more softly with you now than he initially did when you first met, it was still often hard to tell whether or not he was upset. He definitely didn't make the same effort Zenyatta did to show you how he felt. “You surprised me.”

“Human,” Zenyatta’s voice was delicate. “Do you need to take a break?”

“I-I’m good.” You forced yourself to smile despite the two omnics insistently closing in on you. “I mean... yes, I am cold. But it’s just temperature. It’s not the end of the world.”

“I really think you should take a break.” He sounded insistent.

“I’m fine. Really.”

Zenyatta turned to look at Ramattra. They held eye contact.

... Zenyatta nodded.

When Ramattra stood up, you didn’t think much of it. Maybe he was just going to find a new spot. He stepped forward, probably to go past you.

... He leant down and picked you up. 

You yelped, suddenly snapped out of your cold-induced stupor, as you were swept clear off the ground by arms that clearly carried you with absolutely zero effort - he scooped you up like you weighed about as much as an empty cardboard box, hefting you up into a secure grip against his massive chest and beginning to walk. Zenyatta stood too.

If it were anyone else you would’ve started kicking your legs, shouting, freaking out. But it was Ramattra. It really wasn’t fair that you had two omnics here that you were crushing on... you absolutely couldn’t move, your body had seized up, flustered beyond belief. Your face and ears were pounding, so you just immediately clung onto him.

“P-put me down!” you squeaked.

His response was a chuckle. He moved so fluidly, so casually, carrying you out of the main room. “This is your own fault, human. We gave you a chance to take a break willingly.”

Your heart was hammering. “That doesn’t mean you can just - ”

“This isn’t a conversation.”

Ramattra eventually came to a room you recognised - your room. Considering you were one of very few members of the monastery that actually needed to sleep, you had been given somewhere private to rest your head whenever required. Ramattra pushed the door open with his foot, allowing it to swing shut behind him.

“O-ok, I get it, I need to rest.” You felt dizzy. “Put me down now.”

“Hm... no.” Ramattra sat, still holding you tightly. “I don’t think I will.”

“Huh? G-get - ”

That’s when you felt it, bleeding through your clothes. Warmth. Instinctively, you inhaled - Ramattra was hot to the touch. Heat was emanating from within the very metal he was made of. Every part of him was hot, like a hot water bottle, it was as if you’d stumbled in from an icy storm and come home to an open fire. You immediately stopped flapping and just curled into him.

“You’re so warm?” you blurted.

“Omnics can raise and lower their body temperature at will." He settled, seemingly getting comfortable. "Now relax. No need to be foolish.”

Zenyatta re-appeared, closing your room door behind you. He was holding something. By the time you figured out what it was, it was already being tucked around you; a thick down blanket.

Woah. Going from freezing to this was amazing. Tingles spread across your back and chest... you let out a shaky sigh of delight. 

You didn’t catch the look that Ramattra and Zenyatta cast between each other. 

“Human,” Zenyatta hummed, sitting down beside Ramattra. “might I have your hands, for a moment?”

You were confused, but absolutely utterly pacified by the heat, you offered your palms to him. Zenyatta reached out, and wrapped his metal digits carefully around your distinctly soft and fleshy ones. 

... They were hot too - you gasped. You felt Ramattra’s chuckle through his chest. It was like your very own personalised hand warmers, how long had the two of them been able to do this? Heating their bodies? Zen’s hands immediately flushed out the horrible numbness you’d grown accustomed to over the course of the day. 

Everything was warm... finally, you were warm. Inside and out.

Your head rocked, cuddling against Ramattra’s chest. You couldn’t help but hum in delight.

“Is that better?” Zenyatta brushed his thumbs over your knuckles, but eventually let your hands go. Entire body sufficiently restored to a comfortable temperature, you could do nothing but enjoy the sensation. 

“Mhm,” your response was grumbly and relaxed and tiny, face against Ram’s sternum, feeling the warmth leaking into your skin. One large hand gave you a gentle squeeze.

Ramattra’s tone was the softest you’d ever heard it. “Am I forgiven for kidnapping you?”

“I guess.”

“I have spoken to Master Mondatta.” Zenyatta said. “Someone else will take care of your chores today.”

... Huh? Your eyes suddenly opened (you hadn’t even noticed you’d shut them), you sat up. “W-wait. I can’t just bunk off,”

Ramattra’s grip, though gentle, was ironclad. “We insist.”

“But that’s so rude!” 

Ramattra was having none of it. He pulled the blanket tighter around you, restricting your movements and preventing you from wiggling free. “No struggling. You’re staying right here.”

“It’s a matter of your health.” Zenyatta pointed at you disapprovingly. “And you have no right to fight it. You brought this upon yourself - you delayed in informing us of your discomfort. We must make sure you are adequately warm for the rest of the day. Frostbite is a very real concern for you, at this altitude.”

“You’re not letting me go?”

“Absolutely not,” Ramattra hummed.

You exhaled through your nose, like a sulking child, but said nothing. 

Zenyatta sounded softer, now, less like he was lecturing you and somewhat more imploring. “I only wish you’d mentioned how cold you were sooner. Most omnics have the ability to warm their core. I could have assisted. Though Brother Ramattra is most likely best for warming you up, considering he possesses more body to warm you with.”

“You are indeed very small,” Ramattra tutted.

You let out a tiny laugh, much to the delight of the two omnics, but the laugh quickly morphed into a yawn. You shivered one more time, but not because you were cold - it felt more like your body was shaking away the last vestiges of cold that’d clung to you through the day. 

With that, your entire being was toasty from the inside out. If you could purr, you would.

You made a contented and comfortable humming sound, relaxing back against Ramattra’s huge chest. Again, you didn’t catch the look they shot between each other. The two omnics knew each other well enough for the slightest glances to say more than hours of conversation could.

“Tired?” Zenyatta asked, gently.

“A... a little.” Your eyes felt heavy. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Because of the cold?”

“Mhm.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “I’m sure Brother Ramattra would be happy to accompany you to bed tonight.”

Ram snapped. “Quiet.”

“... Would you? To keep me warm?” From Ramattra’s chest, you could just about peek up and make ‘eye contact’ with him. “I’d like that a lot.”

Ramattra, strangely, didn’t reply. He just stared down at you, for a few moments, then looked away - lifting his hand to his mouth like he was covering it.

Zenyatta spoke up. “Of course. Either of us would accompany you, if it would make you more comfortable during the night.”

“Both would be nice,” you mumbled.

You were so sleepy now. You yawned one more time. Maybe... maybe you could just skip your chores after all. Mondatta said it was fine, right? You were so tired. And so warm. No one was really checking... you had permission. And two bodyguards to keep you safe. Maybe you should just...

... A few minutes of complete warm bliss passed.

Ramattra’s voice thrummed through you. “... She really is like a little kitten, isn’t she?”

“Indeed. I told you.”

“Did her shaking not bother you? It was adorable. In an infuriating manner.”

“Of course it did. My motors ache from restraining myself. But unlike you, I know to keep my thoughts to myself.”

“Tch.”

“Hm?” you hummed, not at all catching what was being said.

“Nothing.” Ram hummed. “Go to sleep.”

“Mh. Ok.”

[kkami-writes]

hybrid hearts ━ chapter five. wc. 1.2k cw. slightly spicy chapter!

Despite the late hour you still hadn’t felt tired, sleep alluding you even after the rather hectic day. So you stand in the kitchen, making a hot cup of sleepy time tea that you hope will help you get some rest. The lights are dimmed, not wanting to fully turn them on and wake anyone up. The moonlight shines brightly in the window and it’s more than enough for you to be able to see.

You almost drop your cup when Hyunjin suddenly comes up from behind you. He loosely wraps his arms around your middle, letting his taller body hang over yours.

“Can’t sleep either?” You hum softly, continuing to set the water to boil but the boy only lets out a nonchalant grunt, his shoulders shrugging. It’s not hard to tell that something is bothering him with the way his grip around you gets a little tighter.

“You let him stay huh?” He mumbles against you, and you let out a small sigh. You shuffle in his embrace so you can face him and Hyunjin doesn’t let go for a second, his face still buried in your neck.

“I’m sorry. It just didn’t seem right to send him out when he’s at pretty high risk of an infection and the medicine would make him drowsy. I’m sure he’ll just leave in the morning,”

Hyunjin lets out his own sigh against your neck and the hot air of his breath makes you shiver.

“But… you want him to stay, don’t you?”

The silence that follows lingers for a second before you reply. “It’s the same with you. I just. I have this big empty house and I have plenty of money, I can provide. I hate that there are people, hybrids who are suffering when all they need is someone kind,”

Hyunjin knows you’re right and he hates it. Hates how selfish he feels, he just wants you all to himself. His sweet human.

“Why?”

“Why what?” There’s a tone of confusion in your voice.

“Why did you throw yourself like that in front of Bangchan? You didn’t know he wasn’t a real wolf, what if you got hurt?”

“Hyun…” His gaze is on the floor, unable to look at you and your hands come up to cup his cheeks in order to make him look at you. There’s a sad, almost pained expression written all over his face.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He doesn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue with a baited breath. “I wanted to protect you. Ok, so maybe I didn’t really think anything through but all I know is that the moment I saw the wolf chasing you I panicked and threw myself over you. In that moment I was so, so scared of losing you,” You murmur in a soft, sweet voice, running your knuckles over his cheek. Hyunjin leans further into your touch.

“But…did you protect me because you think I can’t handle myself? Because I’m just a ferret?” His voice is quiet but it cracks slightly, his emotions thick in his throat.

“Of course not. That doesn’t matter to me. It’s because you are you that I want to be able to protect you. I just want to protect the people I care about,”

“But…If I was a wolf like Chan would you trust me more? Trust me to be able to protect you? I marked this territory because I wanted to be able to protect you! And in the end it was you who had to protect me!” Despite his head in your hands he looks back down, feeling so ashamed and embarrassed, angry tears stinging at his eyes. “I just…I just want to be able to protect the person I love,”

You just smile softly at him. “Oh, my precious Hyune. I love you too,”

“No,” Hyunjin shakes his head adamantly, finally lifting his head to look at you, clear determination in his irises. “I’m in love with you,”

You let out a small giggle at that, and it makes his lips turn down into a slight frown.

“Silly boy. That’s what I just said, no?”

“Wait. What?”

“Hyunjin. I love you” His breath catches as he glances down at you, a shimmer of hope swimming in his eyes.

“You- You love me?” He asks in pure disbelief as he searches your face for anything that could possibly give you away. But he finds nothing. There’s no way right? It’s not possible that the most important person to him could ever love him back in his mind. Not when he was a hybrid and you, a human. You can see the boy is struggling to accept your confession so instead, you pull him down to press your lips softly to his. This breaks the trance he’s in before he’s happily kissing you back, his own hands coming around to wrap around your waist.

It feels like an absolute dream to be kissing you, someone he thought he’d never have a chance with, someone he has fallen so deeply for. He tilts his head just slightly, eagerly deepening the embrace. Hyunjin pulls back for a second, lifting you up and onto the counter so he can slot himself between your legs. Then he continues to devour your lips, unable to get enough of you now that he’s had you. Your come to wrap around his shoulders, pulling him even closer to your body.

His tongue swipes across your lower lip and you part your lips for him to slip the wet muscle into your mouth. Hyunjin tastes every inch of you that he can, desperate for more and the way you let out a pretty sigh against his lips drives him even more insane. Eventually he has to pull away, the need for air winning but that doesn’t stop him from pressing his lips to your neck, kissing over your pulse point and trailing them down to your collarbone as you pant, slightly dizzy from the intoxicating kiss.

With the way he’s fully pressed against you as he all but marks up your neck possessively, you can feel his hardening length against your thighs. It makes your own body heat up even more, arousal starting to pool in your stomach.

“Hyun-“ You gasp out but he doesn’t stop his assault against your neck, feeling his teeth nipping at your skin. Your fingers sink into his hair, tugging at it softly which effectively gains his attention. He’s looking up at you with those pretty eyes. “Bedroom, Hyun,” You mutter with a flushed face and Hyunjin all but gives you a goofy grin. He picks you up with ease, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist and wastes no more time in getting you to the bedroom.

He drops you down lightly onto the bedsheets before climbing up next to you, his hands coming to roam across your body, tugging your shirt up and pressing his plush lips to your stomach. The action sets your whole body ablaze as you surrender to Hyunjin’s soft touches and heated kisses. He adores how pliant you are for him already, having barely even done much to you.

Hyunjin takes his time with you, worshiping your body like you deserve, trying to memorize every curve and beauty marks along your body. By the time he’s finished with you, your legs feel like jelly and you’re almost worried you wont be able to walk tomorrow. However, it has him letting out a soft rumble in his chest, satisfied with making his mate feel good as he beams with pride.

Hyunjin presses kisses across your face as you begin to drift off, thoroughly exhausted and he settles in next to you, his precious mate.

[everythingne]

marketing ploy — LN4 / ch. 1

Everyone can see the growing tensions between Red Bull and McLaren as Lando gears up to be the next best driver under Max. The publicity of it all causes a slight issue… the people want more drama. They need more drama.

So, McLaren and Red Bull make a deal—a plan to get them both the publicity (and some extra cash).

The plan?

Olivia Piastri (yes, Piastri), the head analyst of Red Bull, has to pretend to date her brother’s teammate. And she can’t tell anyone—not even Oscar, it’s not a real relationship.

piastri!oc x lando norris

warnings/notes: sort of financial abuse, manipulation from higher authorities, fake dating AND brothers best friend trope (guys let me cook!!)

prev | next

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05 MARCH 2023 -- INSTAGRAM.

OLIVIAPIASTRI MADE A NEW POST ↴

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, redbullracing, and 689k more…

oliviapiastri: never a dull day here in RB. so glad to have gotten to celebrate three podiums!! shout out to max, nori, and ossi here in bahrain!! 🧡❤️

bakerpiastri: the siblings ever 🧡

papayababy: so are we gonna talk ab her calling lando NORI??

⤷ rb.fancams: NO FR??

verstaphin: ok but since when has olivia posted so much mclaren??

oscarpiastri: oh so i can't see the film photos but u can post them?

⤷ oliviapiastri: this is what u get for biting me while drunk.

landonorris: thanks oli 🧡

lando.wc: olivia posting the prettiest photo of lando ever is so...

⤷ piastrycounter: NO FR??? what if. like.

⤷ lando.wc: @.piastrycountry our brainwaves are connected.

addiees: LANDOS COMMENT?

22 FEBRUARY 2023 - SAKHIR, BAHRAIN.

“Piastri incoming!”

Stepping into Christian’s office in my tall white heels, I give him a fist bump at his soft shake of the head and his laugh. It’s extremely weird to have been called to his office at this time, but the man had been serious when we’d spoken about it earlier. I'm still wearing the dress I'd worn to dinner with Oscar and our parents, a little orange sundress my mother had bought me when Oscar first signed with McLaren, paired with a little white sweater and my heels. A loose gold dangle earring catches on a curl, and my bracelets and rings clink as I raise my hand to slip the perfectly done curl off the earring before it ruins it.

"Thank you again, Miss Piastri, for coming on such a short notice." Christian says as I look into the room and my head tilts up slightly as I take in the room in front of me. Three men in different stages of formal dress with their backs to me, a man I don't know sits on one side of the desk with Alice, Red Bull's Chief Communications Officer. And a third woman sits on the other side of the desk with my brothers manager. As I speak, they all turn around, and I notice its both Zak and Andrea from McLaren, and...

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" I ask, staring down none other than Oscar's current best friend, Lando Norris.

Now, I didn't quite... like Lando Norris. It wasn't that he was an asshole or anything, in fact, he was quite polite. And I didn't not like him either. I just didn't really know him. When you only really see a guy in work mode, asleep, hungover when your brother lets him spend the night after they party, or drunk off his ass at a club. Well. It's kinda hard to genuinely like spending time with him. But, he and Oscar got on better than a house of fire, so ultimately I had learned overtime to just deal with his antics. It was usually fun to watch, and I was usually too busy with Red Bull work to even be paying attention.

"Not at all, actually we were waiting for you to get started." Christian places a hand on my shoulder and smiles, motioning for the chair next to Lando that--conveniently, had been left open. I pop down next to him and offer him a soft smile which he returns. Ah yes, civility. I can work with the bare minimum, it's the usual amount of respect I get here.

"My Mom had to get a picture of Oscar and I in the new paddocks here, thats what took so long." I laugh, settling down in the seat and looking over at the women I dont know, offering them soft smiles as I turn back to Christian, "Sorry if I was a bit late."

"Right on time, actually," Christian nods, "As punctual as usual."

"Lets get right to business, we need Lando to be in top shape for tomorrows race. Can't keep him out too late." Zak easily jokes, bringing the attention of the room to him. Christian laughs softly, taking a seat at his desk and flicking open his laptop. The confusion radiating off of me slowly melts into curiosity, leaning back in my chair as well as I plop my little orange Coach purse on my lap.

"Ah, it's all too much for little Lando Norris, right?" I ask, kicking Lando's chair and he crosses his arms as he looks over at me--eyes meeting mine with a bit of playful anger.

"Little Lando Norris?" He pouts and I kick his chair again with a shrug, making him start laughing as he leans back and swats at my foot. His nails scratch along my ankle and I shiver from the feeling, pulling my ankle to the side of my leg.

"Well, this might work better than expected." Andrea comments with a soft grin on his lips, "they already get along well, and have some sort of chemistry."

"Huh?"

"What?"

Lando and I both turn to look at Andrea, then we both turn our attention to Zak and then Christian in order. The three men laugh along to Andrea, nodding in agreement as the two women jot down some notes, the third woman by Lando huffing with a soft smile on her lips. I point to Ada Luanne, my brothers manager and speak softly.

"Wait, so why are we here?" I finally ask and Christian looks to Zak, holding a hand out for the man to explain. He does, standing as he motions around the room, introducing everyone to each other, thankfully.

There's me and Lando settled in two leather chairs that uncomfortably stuck to my thighs. Christian sat his desk with Zak and Andrea standing between him and Lando and my chairs. Alice, Red Bull's Chief Communications Officer sits next to Steve Atkins, who is McLarens Chief Communications Officer. Then, on the other side of the desk is a woman named Astrid Marina, who is Lando's manager, and then my brothers manager Ada Luanne who is here to represent me.

"And, we are all here for the two of you." Zak nods, and Lando sends me a sharp look that says nothing but 'what the hell did you do?' which I counter with my best 'I didn't do shit, what did you do?' look.

"You see, tensions between Red Bull and McLaren's racing teams are at an all time high due to how close Lando has been racing with Max." Zak continues after a moment, "and the fans have been eating up the rivalry. It's truly been one of the most intense spikes in merch sales and social media trends we've seen in years on both sides. And, Miss Piastri, that is where you come into the picture."

"Okay? What does this have to do with me, if you don't mind my asking?" I lean forward slightly, eyes glancing up at Zak, then to Andrea, then Christian, then back to Zak's smug smile.

"We need to keep the rivalry alive between us and Red Bull, yeah? And, over the past few weeks when you've been on radio with Max, the fans have noticed the two of you seem to be quite close. And considering you are Oscar's sister..." Zak waves a hand as he comes to take one of mine, squeezing it as he leans down to be my eye level, "we have quite an opportunity."

"I'm not following." I glance to Lando, who sends me a helpless shrug of confusion.

"Well, Miss Piastri." Christian taps his desk and Zak moves to sit down again. I watch as both Alice and Steven whisper to each other as the Astrid and Ada nod to Christian, and he speaks words I never thought I'd hear.

"To keep up with publicity, we would like for you and Lando to pretend to date. Just for a season or two."

I can't even bring words to my mouth. The room feels so crowded, multiple sets of eyes watching me as I sputter to try and come up with some sort of answer. Luckily, Lando does that for me.

"I'm sorry?" He spits, a sort of anger in his tone, "what are you on about?"

"Olivia, you will start to spend more time with McLaren." Alice starts to explain, and everyone looks to her, "post more McLaren, wear more McLaren, start to cause a stir. Once we see that stir, we will take photos of you wearing Lando's number and post those. This should start a dating rumor through Australia to Miami."

My jaw is open, completely catching flies at the moment.

"Once the rumor really starts, you will both do a 'soft launch' of the other--basically, faceless photos. You'll be caught by paparazzi on a date, you'll be seen together in the paddocks, and such. We'll bring this rumor up and up until about midway through the season when, during a pole position celebration, Lando will go to you for a celebratory kiss--which will cement your relationship." Alice continues, and then Steven takes over,

"We'll run the relationship probably through next season, maybe a little longer, and then you'll both have a peaceful split off and remain friends. No harm done."

I stare blankly, finally closing my jaw to take a slow breath to calm my racing heart. I look to Lando, who looks equally as shocked if not more shocked than I am about this.

"You're reading me a film script, not the next twenty months of my life." I snap, standing up, and Lando follows my lead as I point to Christian, "I'm an engineer, not some--actress you can throw around for publicity points!"

"Olivia, please." Christian stands, holding a hand out like you would to a scared dog, "it's something temporary, and it's no strings attached! There's a pretty big... financial bonus as well."

"You both will get twenty-five percent of all revenue make off this stunt. Depending on how well you sell this... that could triple or even times both of your salaries by ten." Alice crosses her arms, "and, the deal will be kept to people in this office. Only we will know why this is being done. To everyone else, even Oscar and Max, this relationship is genuine."

There's a long pause, and part of me feels trapped. The amount of money I could make for putting up with a guy I already put up with his obviously extremely appealing. I make a good chunk of change already, but just doubling that would make me set for a while. I could finally start spending my money the way I wanted to.

Hell, I could pay off all my student loans at once with that absolute chunk of change.

"Fuck it." Lando says under his breath, so low only I hear the slight scratch of his voice as he sighs and then looks up at Christian, "where do I sign?"

"Norris?!" I shout as my disbelief hits an alltime high, He had made that decision easily. Lando's right hands takes a pen from Christian's left one as he turns back to me, running a hand through his frizzy curls.

"We fake date for a year, and then we go off and do whatever we want after with a large paycheck for something no one knows is fake. How is this a bad deal, Olivia? I already spend almost every weekend with you and Oscar anyway, it'll hardly be different." He says, and a paper is pushed his way, he looks back at me once more in that loose, half buttoned white tee and black dress shorts. His necklaces dangle off his neck as he scribbles down his name without any hesitance, clicking the pen shut and holding it out to me.

"Plus, if we're pretending to be a real couple, you'll be losing out on nothing because I will be buying you pretty much everything for the next twelve months."

Fuck. That's a good point. I could kinda manipulate this to benefit me if all goes to shit. The black pen taunts me, and the way he grins and wiggles it in the air towards my hesitantly lifting hand is no different.

Yeah, so much for being shy, Lando.

"Is there a way out of this after I sign?" I ask and Christian nods. Relief I didn't know I needed floods my body immediately after and I feel like a man in a confessional being absolved of his sins. Complete and utter relief.

"If you want to leave, talk with me, and I'll sort it out." He says, "it's really no strings attached."

So, there was a way to back out. Easily too. Christian had taken me under his wing with Red Bull when I was quite young. The man was basically my second father by now, so I could tell him anything, and knowing that all I had to do was ask him if I wanted to leave?

It felt a lot less heavy to look at the pen now. But I find my gaze drifts upwards and I look at Lando. That tiny gap in his front teeth, the freckle that rests on his cheek right by his nose, the way his eyes crinkle as his smile widens.

Oh, I'm so fucked when Oscar finds out I'm 'dating' Lando.

I groan, snatching the pen from his hand and leaning down to also sign the contract as I mutter.

"You're lucky I'm a money hungry bitch."

And, we begin.

[fir3ylolol]

i'll have what she's having

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: Johnny has insisted that you match with him at his Halloween party, which you obliged. but he's acting sort of weird? wonder what's up with him...

tw: mentions of drinking

a/n: i was inspired by @sillygooselulu to write a little fluff, and why not make it Halloween-themed! first real attempt at fluff which was kinda fun :) but don't worry, the 100-follower special should be out soon!

word count: 1.21 k

Ao3

You put on the last part of your Halloween costume and look in the mirror. Smoothing your pants, you turn and admire how you look. A pair of brown shoes, high-waisted jeans, a red turtleneck, and a brown blazer. Of course, ever the film nerd, Johnny wanted to go as Harry and Sally. You walk to your bathroom to finish your hair and face, sitting down with a huff. You had no idea where Johnny was, leaving you to get ready by yourself. You curl your hair into loose, tease out 80’s curls, and apply a wine-colored gloss to your lips.

You notice your phone buzzing on the bathroom counter and pick it up quickly. Johnny’s cheesy grin flashes across your screen and you pick up quickly. “Hey, you picked up! Where are you? You on your way yet?” He’s almost yelling in your ear, and you back the phone away from your ear. “I just finished, I’ll be there soon. You feeling good?” you manage to say without a laugh, his volume a clear indication that he’s already started to party. “I feel great! Hurry up and get over here!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll leave now then.” You grab your large leathery bag, which Johnny insisted on for “accuracy”. “Woohoo! I’ll see you soon!” He cheers, and abruptly hangs up. Sighing lightly, you leave to his place, LA traffic is not any better than usual. It takes about 30 minutes to get there, and when you do, you notice how many cars are in the driveway. There are at least 50, blocking areas and creating a maze. But, ever the gentleman, Johnny runs out, waving his garage controls above his head. He slightly runs into the car and sticks his head through the window. “You’re here! Go ahead, park in the garage. I’ll see you inside, ok? Bye!” He leaves before you can get a word out, leaving you in a stunned state.

You shake out of it, and pull into his garage quickly, walking into the house through that door. It is loud inside, with bass vibrating the floor and shot glasses tipped over on the counter. You shuffle through the crowd in front of you, searching for Johnny. And there he is, sitting on the couch and laughing loudly with more people than you think the furniture can handle. But he sees you and bolts up. In a large, white cable-knit sweater and jeans, he wraps you up in a hug. “Yay! My other half is here, guys!” He turns you towards the crowd, which loudly cheers for him.

He lets go of you and holds one of your hands, smiling widely. “I missed you,” he giggles out. “How much have you had to drink?” You touch a hand to his red cheeks, which he hisses at. “Your hands are too cold. But I’ve only had a little.” You start to drag him towards a balcony, and he follows behind you with shuffling steps. “Come on, you need fresh air,” you open the glass door and get him outside, shutting the door behind him.

“Ugh, fine,” he leans against the waist-height wall and looks out over Malibu. You stand beside him, wrapping an arm around him in a light hug. He turns to look at you, smiling just as wide as before, with slightly less red cheeks. “You know, you’re always so nice. I like having you around,” he says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. “I like being around man, it’s fun.” You laugh lightly as your face is shoved into his chest, pushing away a little.

Johnny pauses, face slightly dropping as he looks out again. “Hey, can I tell you something? Like, can you promise you won’t leave after I say it?” He sounds slightly serious, but drops it quickly, “Since people will keep asking why I didn’t dress up.” Taken slightly aback by his words, you try to join him in lightening the mood. “Unless you killed someone, I’m staying right here.” He pauses a little too long, and you panic slightly. “Y-you didn’t kill anyone, right??” He turns to you and laughs hard, leaning forward over the wall. “No! Why would I do that? God, you’re funny.” You breathe out a sigh of relief, you weren’t ready to keep a secret like that.

But he grows serious again, letting out what sounds like a nervous breath. “Well, we’ve been friends for a while, and I really like hanging out with you. You’ve stuck by me, even when my movies weren’t that successful.” He’s trying to lighten the mood again, but it’s not working. He coughs slightly, then continues. “Hold on, I memorized my lines.” Confused, you cock an eyebrow at him, but you’re used to his strange antics. He takes a deep breath and starts talking again. “I love that you get cold when it's 71 degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes.” Your face slightly drops, and you recognize what he’s saying. It’s the speech at the end of ‘When Harry Met Sally.’ He continues, “And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because it's Halloween.”

He grabs both your hands, his grasp tight as he finishes, “I wanted you here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” You’re in shock again, taking a long time to process all of this. But he stands there, uncharacteristically nervous. God, how much did he have to drink tonight? He tends to be a little less careful when he’s stressed, and if his nerves now are indicative, he is close to wasted. You snap out of it, and look into his eyes, finally smiling. “Johnny, you really had to quote a movie to confess?” He lets out a breath, shoulders falling forward. “Don’t tease! You’re just so cool, and attractive, and I didn’t want to lose you as a friend. So I figured I could maybe pass this off as part of my character, and not something I was saying.”

“Wait, is this why you really wanted us to dress up as Harry and Sally?” He wraps his arms around you tight, snuggling into your neck. “Maybe…was it bad?” You hug him back, hands tracing along his back. “Nah, it was cute. Nerdy, but cute.” Huffing, he pulls away, “You could’ve left it at cute.” But he pauses again, searching your face quickly. “So…do you wanna…be with me?” You smile and cup his face in one hand, bringing him in for a kiss. He melts into you, arms wrapping around your waist as yours wrap around his neck. You feel him smile, holding you tight against him. He finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

[dekariosmagic]

Safe and Sound- Gale x Tav/Reader

Paring: Gale Dekarios x Tav/Reader (Referred to as Tav)

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Word Count: 1,515

Description: Gale seemed to take the news from Elinster fairly well, or so it appeared.

Other Things: Fluff. Hurt comfort. Uses lyrics from the song "Safe and Sound" by Taylor Swift. Pre-relationship (but they're basically there).

Warnings: Panic attack. References to potential story canon suicide.

Elminster’s news had been a bombshell in and of itself on the party. Gale had seemingly taken the news in stride, perhaps the best in the camp. 

Gale made dinner as usual, while everyone avoided the singular topic on all their minds. Tav assumed no one knew how to bring up the topic to the man himself. 

It wasn’t until Gale finished his own portion and took off to his tent for an early night, did the rumbling start. 

Tav did her usual rounds, trying to ignore the feeling of a rock settled in her chest. And with each companion she talked to with their collective rage and disgust toward the situation and goddess of magic, it just seemed to get heavier. 

It felt good to know the rest of them were all on the same page. That they’d rather fight the goddess herself than willingly give up their wizard. 

Hells Tav was ready to take the goddess on herself, as foolish as the task would be. The fact Mystra felt she could demand that of him. The ultimate sacrifice to end a threat to her power, and get rid of a loose end in one go. She’d not spoken to him since the orb incident, and this was how she broke the silence?

Her heart hurt for Gale and herself. The entire situation couldn’t be easy, not nearly as easy as he made it sound as he accepted the mission from Elminster at least. Hearing from an ex of a relationship that ended so badly would be tricky, make her his goddess of magic and it was far more complicated.

And her own feelings complicated it. She wanted to grab him by his shoulders and scream. Tell him to defy Mystra, to think, to not accept this outrageous thing he’s been asked to do. To spurn Mystra’s words and stay here, with her, in this… whatever they were building. 

She’d become far too attached to him already. But everyday at his side just added to the growing list of things she adored about him. The one bright spot in a bleak road ahead. 

Walking to the front of Gale’s tent, Tav freezes as she contemplates calling out to him. Whether she should try to talk tonight, or leave it for later after he’s had more time to think. Or just let him stick to his own resolve entirely…

Her thoughts are cut short at the sound of a broken sob on the other side of the fabric. 

Without a thought, she slips into the tent and throws her arms around his midsection from behind. His body tenses in surprise, but it does little to interrupt the next sob from his lips. 

She squeezes him tighter as his body shakes, using one hand on his front to rub slow circles on his stomach as she rests her head on his back.

“Y-you don’t h-have-“ Gale begins before slapping a hand over his mouth trying to stifle the next sob, sucking air in desperately around it. 

“Gale, I’ve got you. It’s ok to let it out. I’m staying right here, I promise.” 

She feels him nod more than sees it. She sways them slightly as he shakes, taking a moment to spin herself around his body and hold him more tightly from the front. 

His arms quickly wrap around her, his face pressing to her hair. 

Her fingers rub gently into his back as she softly starts to hum a melody, his tears running down onto her as he tries to mumble an apology.

She holds him for what felt like hours, lost in their own moment. His shaking lessens, and the sobs dwindled to small hiccups over time. 

Turning her head to glance around the room, she spots his bedroll a few steps away. 

“Let’s lay down,” she says softly, backing them toward the bedroll and carefully tugging him along with her. 

She drops down to her knees when she reaches it, grabbing his hands to tug him down to the bedding with her. Adjusting his pillows around and finding a blanket, she lies on her back and holds her arms out to him. 

He studies her for a moment before laying down and snuggling into her, his head resting on her shoulder as she pulls the blanket up around them. 

Her fingers slowly card through his hair as he buries his face against her neck, a shuddered breath leaving his lips as his hand grips at her shirt fabric on her stomach. 

She resumes her humming after they settled in, his face turning from her neck to glance up at her. 

“What are you humming?” He asks quietly, his voice raspy and unsure. 

“I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I'll never let you go. When all those shadows almost killed your light, I remember you said don't leave me here alone,” she sings softly to the melody she’d been humming. 

“Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire. The war outside our door keeps raging on. Hold onto this lullaby even when the music's gone, gone.

“Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now. Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound,” she finishes singing, rubbing a hand along his arm. 

“My mother would sing it to me at night when I was upset,” she finally answers. “When times are hard now I hum it to myself. Quite often lately if I’m to be honest.” 

“It’s beautiful,” he responds, his eyes reddened and puffy, but looking at her with adoration. “You’re beautiful. And I’m undeserving of your company.” 

“Oh hush,” she says and presses a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re deserving of far more than you believe. You deserve to be happy, you deserve to have people care about you, and you deserve to live.”

“I… I don’t want to die,” he whispers after a moment. 

“Good, hold onto that,” she says squeezing him closer to her. “I will find another way. We will. There’s always another way. I’m not going to give up on you. You’re enough as you are Gale.”

His face presses back up against the juncture between her shoulder and neck, a shaky exhale on her neck, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” she whispers just loud enough for him to hear as she feels him smile against her skin. 

“Would you stay here with me tonight? Only if you’re comfortable with it,” he asks quickly, keeping his face hidden from her. 

“Of course, I’m always up for a cuddle with my favorite wizard,” her fingers go back to playing with his hair.

“If you only know one wizard, I’m both your favorite and least favorite,” he jokes with a dry chuckle. 

“I’ve met a few, but you make a good point. I’m always up for a cuddle with my favorite person,” she amends. 

His hand drifts from her stomach to her side, holding her closer to him, “If you continue this I might believe you and you’ll be stuck with me, then you’ll be sorry for throwing those words around.”

“Is that a promise?” She grins and lays her head against his. 

“Promise?”

“If I keep saying you’re my favorite and that I care about you, I’ll be stuck with you? Because I can easily keep repeating the truth each day.” 

“I-I don’t know what… I mean, I still have that order and I might, but maybe,” he stumbles over his words, his brow scrunching in thought.

“You don’t have to think about it right now,” her hand lightly grips his chin to turn his head so she can see his face and presses her finger between his brows. “No decisions, sacrifices, or answers are needed right now.”

He blinks rapidly in response, tears building in the corners of his eyes again as he searches her face then nods, lolling his head back against her shoulder.

Tav lets her fingers drift down his cheek, then follows along his jaw slowly, enjoying the prickle of his beard on her skin.

He stretches some in her embrace, leaning into her touch, his eyelids drooping.

“Go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake,” she promises as she feels sleep starting to come to her as well. 

“A wondrous sight to awake to I’m sure,” he smile softly, his eyes drifting shut. 

Tav continues to stroke along his cheek and jaw until his breathing evens and his nose twitches in his sleep when her hand accidentally brushes against it. 

Holding back her chuckle, she wraps her arm back around Gale and snuggles her face against his hair, letting her own eyes drift shut. 

She sends out a quick prayer, to any god that may listen, that she find a way to get them all through this. Her new little odd family would all make it through this intact, or she herself would die trying. His goddess may have given up on him, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to. 

--------

My Main Account: @lykaonimagines AO3 User: Lykao (Marvel, Sherlock, Cyberpunk 2077, and other video game fics)

[messylustt]

ok heres my req!! don't worry sbt how long it takes darling writing is a hobby not a job <33

but i was think if an Ethan fic where maybe its sort of a 'who did this to you' vibe where the reader gets hurt. maybe he goes a lil apeshit who knows 🤷🏼‍♀️ and smut (because ethan smut is delicious and ur writing is scrumptious)

💓💓

pls I need this in my life and thank you, my love ur so sweet <3

✫ ;: .. I’D KILL FOR YOU

ethan landry + fem!reader

18+ smut fingering; mention of abuse :( ; mention of injuries (cigarette burn marks, bruised eye); praise (it’s my thing)

“What?” Ethan’s voice is lower than you’ve ever heard it before.

“But I’m fine.” You console with a small smile. But Ethan’s still moving closer, his gaze locked on your face.

Then his hand is reaching out and lightly brushing the bruise that sits just under your eye. You try not to flinch, but it seems even the softest of touches makes your body twitch.

Ethan’s jaw is clenched, his own mind practically turning red—figuratively—though at this point Ethan’s starting to want to see the colour in a more solid form. Maybe dripping out of your stepdad’s stomach.

You back away from him, shaking your head. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“No you’re fucking not.” Ethan growls, pulling you back to him, making you hiss in pain. Ethan quickly looks down to where his hand is holding your waist. And as he pulls your shirt up—ignoring your protests—he sees littered burn marks across your skin. Raw and cinched with black.

You slightly push him off you. “Ethan, it barely hurts.”

Ethan meets your gaze with disbelief. “How long?” He pulls you back to him, slightly pushing you against a table, as he draws your shirt back up, keeping you still by the pressure of his legs against your own.

“Ethan—“

“How. Long?” He meets your gaze, leaving no room for argument.

You narrow your eyes briefly, before looking away, clenching your jaw. “A few months.” You whisper.

Okay, now Ethan sees red. “A few months?” He reiterates, his teeth almost now visible at how much he snarled the words out. “And you didn’t think to tell anyone? You didn’t think to tell me?”

“What could I say?” You shift your gaze back to him, slightly shifting under his body weight. “That my stepdad beats me when he’s stressed?”

“Yes! Exactly that.” Ethan is breathing hard, as he has the urge to touch your face again.

“No.” You slightly hiss. “Because if I say something, my mum will find out. She can’t find out.”

“Why the hell not? The guys a living piece of shit.” Ethan lowly states, part—no, most of him wanting to get rid of the ‘living’ part. Your stepdad can remain a dead piece of shit for all he cares.

“Because she’s…she’s finally happy.” Your voice has grown quieter.

“Happy?” Ethan still looks in disbelief. “You can’t be serious. She’s happy with him?”

“Yes! She’s finally happy and I really don’t want to see that go.”

Ethan’s hand has moved to grip your shirt a fraction tighter. “How can she be happy with someone who beats—“

“He doesn’t beat her. He doesn’t…he’s never layed a hand on her. He wouldn’t.” You say, gnawing at the inside of your cheek.

“So, just you then?” Ethan asks, eyes still narrowed and practically gleaming with a want to kill. Though you can’t catch this in your worried state. “And you’re fine with that?”

“I’m sure it won’t continue—“

“I don’t give a fuck if you think it’ll continue or not. It’s happened.” He brings your shirt back up, revealing your burn marks. “Cigarettes burnt into your skin.” He grabs the back of your neck, redirecting your head to look at him. “His fist into your…” he tries to take a breath, because he’s slowly loosing it. “Into your face.”

He meets your gaze, tilting your head up, his fingers slightly sinking into your hair. Because he didn’t want to let go. He wouldn’t let go. No. For one, you were certainly not going back home. And two, Ethan needed to keep you close as some form of confirmation that your stepdad wasn’t going to lay a finger on you again. Ethan’s already made a promise to break every single one.

“Ethan, let me go…please.” You say, because he’s still your friend, and you know that he’s just concerned.

But Ethan just shakes his head. “You’re not going back home.”

“I have to—“

“No, y/n.” Ethan pointedly says. “You’re not going back home.” You can feel his heaving chest against your own—Ethan having brought you even closer, careful to avoid the wounds on your side.

“I appreciate your concern and everything…but you were never meant to know. It would have fizzled out and—“

“Stop making up excuses for your situation.” Ethan cuts in, his breath now over your face, making your own hitch a fraction. “Stop acting as though this is fine, just because you want your mum to be happy.”

You hold your breath as Ethan’s hand gently brushes your uninjured cheek. “What about your happiness?”

You gulp, shaking you head—the reason not really clear to you. Ethan just grabs your chin, leaning even closer, so that his breath now tickled your lips, making your entire body heat up. “Listen to me.” His gaze is darting.

“You are not going back home. You are not ever seeing him again.” You go to cut in but Ethan quickly continues. “And I don’t care if he’s good to your mum, because he’s not good to you. No one can treat you like that.”

Now he’s extremely close, making your heart thump, and pound in your ears, each of his words now hitting your open mouth, your lips wet with your own spit. Something Ethan instantly takes note of, as his eyes glance down, a second desire forming. Not just the one for blood, but now for you.

“And y/n, if I see another injury on you…” Ethan’s lips are almost touching yours. “I’ll kill him.” And Ethan meant every ounce of those words. Whether or not you did come back with more injuries Ethan was determined to kill him anyway. But you wouldn’t be ‘coming back’. Because you’d be staying here. With him.

Your eyes keep darting down to his lips, and just as your breathing stutters, Ethan can’t help but lean even closer. Now his lips are just barely brushing yours. Without much thought you lean forward, pressing your lips completely against his.

It’s as if a fire ignites in Ethan’s veins, as his hand at your neck tightens. And once you slightly lean back from your delicate kiss, Ethan’s mouth is swiftly reaching for yours. You slightly gasp at the intense switch.

Your kiss was hesitate and gentle, his now is determined, lust filled, and permanent. He wasn’t going anywhere. Your head knocks slightly back as Ethan laps at your tongue, exploring your mouth, as your head moves with his.

Then he’s lifting you onto the table, making sure your legs spread around him, as he doesn’t give you air, finding your lips a little more addicting than initially expected. “Eth—“

But your words are drowned out by Ethan’s mouth. Then he finally moves down your cheek, and jaw and neck. You’re entirely flushed, as Ethan pulls you even closer to him by your thighs. You can feel him entirely, as his hips slightly move a fraction, earning a small sound to spill from your lips, making Ethan grin against your skin.

“Mm…fuck, y/n…you taste good.” Ethan mutters out, almost unheard by how he just isn’t backing away from your skin. “So fucking good…”

Your head lolls back as your eyes have the urge to roll as Ethan leaves a lot more pleasurable bruises on your skin. “Only I can give you bruises…” he says, licking your neck. “No one else can, no one else can touch you.” He’d muttering anything and everything on his mind.

And then his hand is unzipping your pants, sinking past your panties as he finds your arousal. Your hips slightly jolt. “Shh, don’t move. I don’t want you to do anything. Just lay back for me…” Ethan is moving on top of you as he begins to draw circles over your throbbing clit. Your mouth is open in a pant, as Ethan coos at your expression.

“I knew you’d look good like this—fuck.” He continues to rub your pussy, as pleasure courses through you. “That feel good?” He breathes, and you partially nod, kinda out of it. “Good…, cause that’s all I want you to feel.” He’s now placing kisses by your jaw, as two of his fingers graze your dripping hole.

“Oh god, Ethan…” you whisper out, as you bite your lip. Ethan breathlessly chuckles as he begins to thrust his fingers in and out of you. “You’re gonna stay…right?” Ethan watches you closely as he finger fucks you.

Your nods are quick and mismatched making Ethan’s smile grow along with something else straining in his pants. “Yeah…you’ll stay right here…with me, you’ll be alright, you’ll be safe.” He breathes almost to himself, as he leans down to kiss you, finding your tongue quickly, as his thrusts quicken, feeling you clench around them.

“Are you gonna cum?” He speaks to your lips. “Yeah?…mm, that’s it…cum all over my fingers, I want to taste more of you.” He keeps kissing your swollen lips, as his thrusts pick up to a pace almost ungodly.

“Oh—Ethan—god.” You manage as your hands grip at his shirt, your body twitching with pleasure. And as your orgasm rides through you, your lips finding Ethan’s eagerly, his other hand has begun to soothe just by your burn marks.

“You’re so pretty.” He breathes, finally pulling his fingers out of you, as your eyes shut, savouring the feeling. “Let me help you feel even better…” Ethan kisses your cheek, as you open your eyes. You can hear the click of his belt as you feel your core heat up again.

[changetyre]

Not like this (P10) II Charles Leclerc x Reader (Mafia AU)

SUMMARY: After losing everything you seek out your biggest and longest-standing enemy to finish it all.

WARNING: Violence, blood, mentions of death, slow burn.

A/N: Better late than never...

As you sped away into the night, tires screeching against the damp pavement, the silence in the car seemed louder than that of the gunfire you'd just escaped. You kept your gaze trained forward, unwilling to betray any hint of the turmoil in your mind. You never meant to drag him into this mess, yet here he was, determined to help you when he could have easily abandoned you or killed you. 

You hadn't spoken a word since you'd bolted from his place, the weight of unspoken thoughts hanging heavily in the car. Finally, he broke the silence, voice low but tense.

"Did you let anyone see you? In your little escapade?" he asked his grip tight on the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road.

You glanced at him, unsure whether it was anger or something else. "No. I was careful Charles."

His jaw clenched. "You're sure no one caught even a glance?"

"I don't know," You replied honestly, averting your gaze. "It's possible Charles...I-I don't know."

He scoffed. "You don't know..." he repeated your words. 

"Charles I told you you didn't have to do this. Are you second-guessing your decisions? Why did you even run with me then?" I questioned him, aware of the building tension between us. 

He laughed bitterly. "Good question. Maybe I have a weakness for trouble. Or maybe," he glanced at you, his dark eyes softening as he looked at you, "I'm not as willing to let you go as I should be."

You let out a shaky breath. Your walls, carefully constructed over years of deceit and control, felt dangerously close to crumbling. Here you were, vulnerable and exposed, relying on the man you'd once thought of as nothing but an enemy. 

"Pull over," You said abruptly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shot you a sideways glance, eyebrows knit in confusion. "Are you insane? Do you want to get killed now? They could have followed us you know?"

"Just pull over!" you screamed, your desperation left no room for argument.

Reluctantly, he guided the car to a secluded side street, the engine growing silent. You leaned forward, your head in your hands, and your breathing was uneven.

For a moment, he thought you might be on the brink of passing out, the overbearing weight of everything finally overtaking you. But then you lifted your head, meeting his gaze with a fierceness he hadn't seen in you in a long time.

"You don't get it, do you?" you laughed, a defeated laugh, voice shaking with a mixture of anger. 

"Whoever did this to me...whoever is coming after me won't stop. They're cruel. They've already wiped out everyone in my circle, everyone I ever cared about, and trusted. They just came after you too Charles. I'm the last loose end...and anyone who gets close to me becomes a target, you've become a target." you looked him straight in the eyes. 

"I'm not exactly a stranger to danger," he replied, his voice calm but with a firmness to it. "You think I haven't faced threats before? I'm not some helpless bystander."

"This is different Charles" you insisted, frustration evident in your voice. "They're organized, smart. They know my moves, my strengths, my weaknesses. And now...they know you're involved."

His expression softened, and he reached over, his hand grasping yours, warm and grounding. "I'm not running away. As I said, we're doing it together...and we'll be ready"

You stared at him, still confused as to why he was so adamant to stay by your side. For so long, you'd built your life around distrust, convinced that everyone would betray you. But here he was, offering support...and maybe something else she was to scared to face. 

"Ok." I nodded looking down at your linked hands, a small sigh of resignation slipping out. "This won't be pretty Leclerc. There's no telling what they'll throw at us next."

He smirked, shifting the car back into gear. "Let them come." His tone was so confident it almost made me believe there was no way we would be defeated. 

Charles started driving again, in silence, but it was different this time. The tension that had once simmered between you now felt like something else his hand remained linked with yours and it wasn't awkward. You tried to ignore the way your pulse quickened whenever his fingers brushed against your hand or the way he would use your hand to change gears instead of letting go. You tried focusing on formulating a plan, piecing together the scattered fragments of information you had.

"We need somewhere safe to hide out," he said after a while, breaking her thoughts. 

"I know a place," she replied, her voice steady. "But I have no way to tell if it's compromised. Could be dangerous."

"Risks don't scare me." Charles smiled. 

You hesitated. "It's an old safehouse on the outskirts of the city, that belonged to my great-grandparents. Hardly anyone knows about it. Or at least I hope." 

"We can't keep driving forever. We have to risk it." Charles agreed. 

You nodded, Your mind already shifting into a tactical mode, plotting the next steps. If you reached the safehouse, you'd have a chance to gather supplies, and maybe even access some information about who was behind the attack. But a gnawing doubt and fear lingered, that the safehouse was already compromised. 

The drive felt endless, the road twisting through darkened streets and deserted alleyways. You drove all night, city lights faded as you moved toward the outskirts, replaced by the eerie silence and loneliness of abandoned buildings. Finally, you arrived, the safehouse looked just like every other abandoned house you'd passed, with no indication of recent activity. 

You'd exited the car cautiously, scanning the area for any sign of movement. You led him to a hidden door on the side of the building, taking a deep breath before pressing a series of numbers into a camoflaged keypad. A few seconds passed before a door clicked open, and you both quickly slipped inside, your relief was palpable as the heavy door sealed shut behind you.

The safe house was sparse, a relic from another life. Dust covered the surfaces, and the air was stale, but it was uncompromised. You motioned for him to sit while you searched for supplies, grabbing a first-aid kit from a cabinet in the corner.

"You're bleeding," he noted, his tone a mixture of surprise and concern.

You glanced down, You'd noticed the red seeping through your clothes in the car but chose to say anything knowing Charles would only grow concerned. But the adrenaline was fading, and the pain was creeping up. "I'll be fine. I've handled worse." You waved him off. 

He took the kit from your hands, his gaze dark. "Sit down." he ordered.

You relented, allowing him to tend to your deep but minor wound. You couldn't help but be reminded of the night that started it all, Charles's touch once harsh and uncaring now the opposite. 

His was careful and precise, and you found yourself studying him, the light furrow of his brows. You once hated him, seeing him as nothing more than an obstacle in her way. But now, as he focused intently on your wounds, you felt a strange warmth bloom in your chest, one you didn't dare acknowledge.

"Thank you," you murmured, your voice barely audible.

He looked up, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "Don't make this a habit." He joked. 

"You growing fond of me Leclerc?" You smirked. He stared at you, your gazes locking for a few seconds but he didn't answer. 

"We need to figure out who's behind this," he said finally, breaking the silence. "I might have a few contacts who might know something, but it's a gamble."

You nodded. "I might know some people to, it seems whoever is behind this knows I'm not dead so there's no point in trying to stay invisible anymore."

"Then we'll start there." His voice was steady, but his gaze lingered on you, searching. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"I don't have a choice," you replied, your expression hardening. "Whoever did this won't stop until I'm dead. I have to face them head-on."

The determination in your voice was fierce, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration. You were stronger than he'd ever accepted, and despite everything, he was glad to be by your side.

It took 3 days. You took turns sleeping making sure someone was always alert, when you were both away you worked together to plan your next steps, to find information. On the third day once it was finally getting dark you set your plan into motion. 

You were going to split up, each to contact your own sources, gathering whatever intel you could find. You had insisted it was safer this way, less chance of both of them being targeted at once, he had refuted, adamant on sticking together but you had somehow convinced him despite a part of you hating the idea of leaving his side. You agreed that maximum in a week from now you were to meet here again. 

If one of you didn't show up...it was clear what that meant. 

"Promise me you'll be careful," you said, surprising yourself with the fragility of your voice.

He gave you a reassuring nod, his hand taking yours in an action that had become familiar. "You too." his grip on your hand tightened. "We're going to get through this." he sighed as if also trying to convince himself of this. 

With one last glance, you parted ways.