#Of course neither of them would admit that

[bu3ck3r]

all mine

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

wc: 10k

warnings: drinking, language, sexual content

a/n: sorry for the long wait but here it is😭 after yall finish reading tell me how was it pls and ty (i didnt really edit this so if there’s some mistakes just ignore them)

Before Paige knew what love felt like, she knew what Azzi felt like.

It was laughter on long bus rides, sneakers tapping against the pavement in perfect rhythm. It was midnight conversations whispered under dorm room ceilings, fingers barely brushing between them on the couch. It was an unspoken understanding—a silent kind of gravity that had pulled them together long before they even realized it was happening.

Paige had always been drawn to Azzi, even when they were just kids competing at camps, both of them too young to understand why they gravitated toward each other the way they did.

But it wasn’t just friendship. Not really.

Because Paige had never felt her heartbeat stutter when she hugged any of her other friends too long. She had never memorized the way anyone else laughed, or wondered what it would feel like to hold their hand just because she wanted to. She had never been scared of losing anyone the way she was scared of losing Azzi.

But back then, she didn’t have the words for it. So she did the only thing she knew how to do—she buried it.

Somewhere along the way, things started to shift. Not in an obvious, dramatic way. It was subtle—like the way shadows change with the time of day, creeping in slowly until suddenly, everything looks different.

It was the way Paige started pulling back without realizing it. The way she let texts sit unanswered a little too long, the way she hesitated before reaching for Azzi the way she used to.

And Azzi noticed. Of course she did.

Because Azzi had always been the one person who saw through Paige, even when Paige didn’t want to be seen.

“Are we good?” Azzi had asked one night, her voice careful, uncertain.

Paige had nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, of course.”

And Azzi hadn’t pushed.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe Paige needed her to push, to call her out, to force her to say out loud what she was too afraid to admit.

But Azzi had always been patient.

So she waited.

And Paige kept running.

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The house was packed, music too loud, bodies pressed too close, heat settling thick in the air.

Paige wasn’t sure why she even came.

She wasn’t the party type. Not really. But Nika had dragged her out, insisting she needed to “loosen up,” and Paige was too tired to argue.

She had been standing against the wall, half-listening to Lou and Nika argue about something stupid, when she felt it.

That familiar pull.

She didn’t have to turn around to know Azzi was in the room.

She felt it in her chest first, like something tightening, something waking up.

And when she finally lifted her gaze, there she was.

Azzi was across the room, head tilted back in laughter, eyes crinkled at the corners, completely unaware of the way Paige’s entire world had just narrowed to her.

Paige was used to seeing her on the court—focused, determined, sharp.

But here, she looked different. Softer. Warmer.

And it was unfair, the way she did that—walked into a room and made Paige forget how to breathe.

For a second, just a second, Azzi turned.

Their eyes met.

And the moment stretched, time bending between them the way it always did.

Azzi didn’t look away.

And for the first time in a long time, neither did Paige.

The night air was cooler outside, a welcome contrast to the stifling heat of the party.

Azzi stood by the railing, fingers tapping idly against the wood, her gaze fixed on the city lights.

Paige hesitated in the doorway, hands shoved into the pocket of her hoodie, uncertainty clawing at her ribs.

She wasn’t sure what she was doing here.

Maybe she should just go back inside. Pretend she hadn’t followed Azzi out here like some lost puppy.

But before she could make that decision, Azzi spoke.

Paige froze, fingers tightening around the fabric of her hoodie.

Azzi didn’t turn to look at her, still staring out at the city, but her voice was steady—too steady, like she had been waiting to say this for a long time.

“You always do this”

Paige swallowed. “Do what?”

Azzi let out a breath—one of those slow, measured exhales that meant she was trying to hold something back.

“You pull away,” she said finally, turning just enough to glance at Paige over her shoulder. “And then you come back like nothing happened.”

Paige’s stomach twisted. “That’s not—”

Azzi gave her a look, and Paige’s words died in her throat.

Because it was true.

Paige didn’t mean to do it. She didn’t mean to keep running, to keep putting distance between them every time she felt like she was getting too close.

But how was she supposed to not be scared? Azzi was the only thing that had ever felt bigger than basketball, bigger than anything Paige had ever wanted. And wanting her, really wanting her—meant risking everything.

It meant risking them.

“I just…” Paige sighed, leaning against the railing next to Azzi, close enough that their arms almost touched. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Azzi turned fully now, eyebrows pulling together. “Do what?”

Paige hesitated, staring down at her hands.

This was the moment.

The moment where she either told the truth or let the silence stretch between them again, let it become another thing they didn’t talk about.

She took a shaky breath.

“This,” she said, finally looking up. “Wanting you. Being around you and pretending it’s nothing when it’s everything.”

Azzi’s lips parted slightly, like she wasn’t sure if she had heard Paige right.

And then, carefully, so, so carefully—she reached out, fingers grazing Paige’s wrist.

Paige sucked in a breath, but she didn’t pull away.

“Then stop pretending,” Azzi murmured.

And for the first time in years, Paige thought that maybe—just maybe—she could.

It wasn’t dramatic.

It wasn’t some grand, sweeping moment like in the movies.

It was just them.

Standing on a balcony, the city stretching out below, the party fading into a distant hum behind them.

Azzi was watching her, waiting—always waiting.

And Paige, for once, didn’t run.

She just leaned in, closing the space between them, pressing her lips to Azzi’s like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Azzi inhaled sharply against her mouth, but then she was kissing her back, fingers curling around the fabric of Paige’s hoodie, pulling her in like she had been waiting for this just as long. It was slow, tentative—like they were both afraid to break whatever fragile thing had just formed between them. But then Paige sighed into the kiss, and Azzi’s hand slid up to cup her jaw, and suddenly, it wasn’t slow at all.

It was desperate.

It was real.

And Paige had never felt more certain of anything in her life.

They didn’t talk about it right away.

Maybe because neither of them wanted to break whatever had just settled between them.

Or maybe because words felt too small, too insignificant for something that had felt so big.

All Paige knew was that when they finally stepped back inside, her entire body was still buzzing.

Azzi’s fingers had brushed hers as they walked, and Paige had wanted so badly to reach back—to hold on, to keep them connected just a little longer.

But she didn’t.

Because as much as she wanted this, she was still scared.

What if they ruined everything? What if this didn’t change anything?

Paige stole a glance at Azzi, wondering if she was feeling the same way.

Azzi caught her staring.

And for the first time all night, she smiled. Not a small, uncertain smile. A real one.

And just like that, Paige knew.

This wasn’t nothing.

This was everything.

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Paige woke up with the memory of Azzi’s lips still burning on hers.

The morning light was filtering through the blinds, casting golden streaks across the room. Everything felt different—like the world had shifted on its axis while she was sleeping. And maybe it had.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

“You up?”

Paige exhaled, fingers hovering over the screen. Then she smiled, because for the first time, she didn’t have to think about it.

“Yeah. Want to get breakfast?”

Azzi’s reply was immediate.

“Always.”

Paige didn’t know what came next.

But for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t afraid to find out.

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Paige had always been good under pressure.

On the court, with the clock winding down and the game on the line—those were the moments she lived for. When the stakes were high, she thrived.

But this? This was different. Because this wasn’t a game.

And the way Azzi was looking at her across the breakfast table—soft, curious, like she was waiting for Paige to say something—it made her feel like she was already losing.

“So…” Azzi finally broke the silence, stirring her coffee absently. “Are we gonna talk about it?”

Paige exhaled, leaning back against the booth. “What is it?”

Azzi gave her a knowing look.

“Paige.”

Her name sounded different in Azzi’s voice—like a question, like a challenge. Like a promise.

Paige ran a hand through her hair, trying to play it cool. “We kissed. It happened.”

Azzi’s expression didn’t change.

“And?”

Paige hesitated.

And I can’t stop thinking about it. And I don’t know what to do next. And I think I might be in love with you, but I don’t know how to say it out loud.

But instead of saying any of those things, she shrugged. “And… I don’t want things to be weird.”

Azzi studied her for a long moment, fingers tapping lightly against her cup. Then she nodded, like she had expected that answer.

“Okay,” she said simply.

And that was the problem with Azzi.

She didn’t push. She never did. She just gave Paige space to figure it out.

And Paige had never wanted to figure something out more in her life.

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The thing about trying to pretend nothing had changed?

It never worked. Because everything had changed.

Paige felt it in every glance, every accidental touch, every moment of silence that stretched a little too long.

And if Azzi noticed—which she definitely did—she didn’t say anything.

She just let it happen.

Like when they were in the gym late one night, just the two of them, shooting in comfortable silence.

Paige had missed a shot she never missed, and Azzi had smirked.

“Distracted?”

Paige rolled her eyes, grabbing the rebound. “You wish.”

Azzi stepped closer, tilting her head slightly. “I do.”

Paige’s breath caught.

She wasn’t sure if it was the way Azzi’s voice had dropped just a little lower, or the fact that they were suddenly too close, but something shifted.

Azzi must have felt it too, because she hesitated—just for a second—before reaching out.

Her fingers barely grazed Paige’s wrist.

And Paige? Paige didn’t move. She couldn’t.

Because Azzi was looking at her like she knew. Like she knew exactly what Paige was feeling and was just waiting for her to admit it.

And for a moment, Paige almost did.

But then the gym doors creaked open, and the moment was gone.

Azzi stepped back.

And just like that, they were back to pretending.

Pretending only worked for so long.

It was after another game—a close win, adrenaline still buzzing in Paige’s veins—when it finally happened.

They were in the locker room, most of the team already gone, when Azzi leaned against the lockers and said, “I’m done.”

Paige frowned. “Done with what?”

Azzi sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “With this.”

Paige’s heart clenched. “Azzi…”

“No, listen,” Azzi said, stepping closer. “I don’t want to be something you keep running from. I don’t want to keep pretending this is nothing when we both know it’s not.”

Paige swallowed hard.

Azzi reached out, fingers ghosting over Paige’s jaw—barely touching, but enough to make Paige’s breath hitch.

“I want you,” Azzi murmured. “But I need to know if you want me too.”

Paige didn’t answer.

Not with words.

Instead, she surged forward, kissing Azzi like she was trying to make up for every second they had wasted.

It wasn’t like their first kiss.

This was desperate.

This was hungry.

Paige backed Azzi into the lockers, hands fisting in her hoodie, pulling her closer and closer—until there was nothing between them but heat and want and every unspoken word they had been avoiding.

Azzi let out a soft sound against her mouth, fingers tangling in Paige’s hair, and Paige melted into it.

Into her.

And suddenly, nothing else mattered.

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The thing about keeping a secret like this?

It’s exhausting.

Paige could feel the weight of it every time she saw Azzi—across the court, in the hallway between classes, during practices.

The stolen glances. The lingering touches. The way their eyes would meet for just a second, a silent promise between them, and then they’d both look away—acting like nothing had changed.

But everything had changed.

Paige would catch herself at night, her body still humming from the way Azzi’s fingers had brushed her cheek, the way their lips had melded together in that locker room, desperate and fierce.

And she’d want to reach out, to text Azzi, to say anything.

But no.

They couldn’t.

At least, not yet.

There was something thrilling about it—about the secrecy. The knowledge that, for now, only they knew the truth. But it was also maddening. And Paige knew she couldn’t keep pretending that everything was okay for long.

They found ways to be close without anyone noticing—whispers in dark hallways, brief moments where their hands would brush when they passed each other.

But it was in the quiet moments when they weren’t supposed to be touching that Paige felt it most.

Like when they were at the team’s dinner, everyone gathered around a long table in the dimly lit restaurant, eating and laughing.

Azzi was across from her, but their eyes locked, and suddenly the noise around them faded into a soft buzz, like the world had shrunk to just the two of them.

Azzi’s leg brushed against Paige’s under the table, slow and deliberate.

And Paige’s heart skipped a beat.

She looked up, and Azzi’s eyes were on her, dark and intense. A small, secret smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

We shouldn’t be doing this, Paige thought. But the rush of heat that shot through her told her that she didn’t care anymore.

When the dinner ended, Paige walked out behind everyone else, head spinning, pulse racing.

Azzi stayed just a little too close, their shoulders brushing as they exited the door.

Azzi’s voice was low, almost a whisper. “Meet me later. My place.”

Paige’s breath caught in her throat. What was she doing? What was she getting herself into?

But the tension between them had reached its breaking point, and all she could do was nod, her voice barely audible. “I’ll be there.”

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Paige had always been good at staying in control. She was the leader on the court, the one who made the calls, the one who always had a plan.

But when she stepped into Azzi’s apartment later that night, everything changed.

Azzi’s place was warm, soft lighting casting gentle shadows over the space. It felt different—softer than the world they had built around themselves. Paige felt the familiar pull in her chest, but this time, there was no hiding from it.

Azzi closed the door behind her, locking it, the quiet sound echoing through the room.

Paige turned to face her, nerves buzzing under her skin.

Azzi stepped forward, her eyes dark, intense, but her touch gentle. She cupped Paige’s face, thumbs grazing over her cheekbones, and Paige leaned into her touch without thinking.

“I’ve been thinking about this… about you,” Azzi whispered, her voice rough and low.

Paige swallowed hard. “Me too.”

And then, without warning, Azzi kissed her—slow, deliberate, the way they both had been craving but never allowing themselves to fully indulge.

Azzi’s hands moved to the back of Paige’s neck, pulling her closer, her mouth hot and insistent. Paige moaned softly, the sound caught in her throat as she wrapped her arms around Azzi’s waist, drawing her in.

It was slow. It was a blur of emotions and tension. Every touch felt like it could be their last moment together like they were both daring each other to cross a line they knew they shouldn’t yet.

Azzi’s fingers slid down to the hem of Paige’s shirt, and for a moment, they just paused—standing there, breathless, as if they were both trying to remember how to move in each other’s space.

Paige met Azzi’s gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. “Are you sure?”

Azzi didn’t answer with words. She just pulled Paige into another kiss—deeper, more desperate.

And that was the moment Paige stopped caring about anything else.

It wasn’t just about the kiss.

It was about everything that led up to it.

Paige’s hands were on Azzi’s now, fingertips brushing against her bare skin, igniting a fire she hadn’t realized was there. The moment was unraveling, both of them caught between desire and the fear of what it meant.

Azzi’s breath came in shallow bursts, her body aching for more. “Paige,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Paige’s lips trailed down her neck, teeth grazing her pulse, and Azzi moaned softly, hands sliding into her hair, pulling her closer, urging her on.

Paige paused, her lips hovering just above Azzi’s skin. “You sure?” she asked, voice low and thick with desire.

Azzi shuddered, nodding, her fingers curling into Paige’s shirt. “I want this.”

And that was all Paige needed.

She moved slowly, deliberately, taking her time, making sure every touch, every kiss, was burned into Azzi’s memory. The tension built between them, charged and electric, until it felt like the whole world had disappeared. There was only the way Paige’s hands moved over her, the way Azzi’s body responded—every inch of her skin reacting to Paige’s touch as if it had always been meant for this.

Paige’s name escaped Azzi’s lips in a breathless gasp, and Paige responded with a soft growl, kissing her deeper.

Paige reached out, her fingers lightly tracing the outline of Azzi’s jaw, her touch feather-light yet igniting a fire within. Azzi leaned into the caress, her breath hitching as she closed her eyes, savoring the moment.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Paige whispered, her voice a sultry murmur that sent a thrill through Azzi.

With a soft smile, Azzi opened her eyes, locking onto Paige’s gaze. “Show me,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with longing.

Paige leaned in closer, their lips almost touching, the warmth of their breaths mingling. Their lips met softly at first, a gentle exploration that quickly deepened as they lost themselves in each other.

Paige’s hands found their way to Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer, feeling the heat radiating from her body. Azzi responded by tangling her fingers in Paige’s hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. It was a dance of passion and tenderness, each movement igniting a spark that spread through them both.

As they pulled away, breathless and flushed, Azzi eyes sparkled with mischief.

“I want to feel all of you,” she said, her voice low and inviting.

Paige’s hands roamed down Azzi’s sides, exploring the curves of her body, tracing the delicate lines of her silhouette. Azzi shivered at the touch, her skin alive with sensation. She leaned back slightly, allowing Paige to explore further, her heart pounding with excitement.

With a gentle push, Paige guided Azzi back onto the soft bed, their bodies entwined. The world outside faded even more, leaving only the warmth of their skin and the rhythm of their hearts. Paige’s lips traveled down Azzi’s neck, planting soft kisses that made her gasp and arch her back, craving more.

“Tell me what you want,” Paige murmured against her skin, her breath hot and tantalizing.

Azzi’s voice was barely a whisper, filled with need. “Everything. I want everything with you.”

Paige smiled, her eyes dark with desire. She captured Azzi’s lips again, pouring all her longing into the kiss, as their bodies moved together in a beautiful symphony of passion and love.

Paige’s hands slid beneath Azzi’s shirt, fingers grazing the soft skin of her stomach, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. Azzi’s breath quickened as Paige’s hands traveled higher, brushing against the lace of her bra. With a deft movement, she unclasped it, letting it fall away, exposing Azzi’s breasts to the cool air.

Azzi gasped, her body responding instinctively as Paige’s warm mouth enveloped one of her nipples, swirling her tongue around it. The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through Azzi, as she pressed herself closer to Paige.

“Yes, just like that,” she breathed, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair, urging her on.

Paige’s other hand explored Azzi’s body, trailing down her sides and slipping beneath the waistband of her pants. She could feel the heat radiating from Azzi’s core, and her fingers brushed against the soft fabric of her panties. “You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire.

Azzi’s breath hitched as Paige’s fingers found their way inside her panties, teasing her with gentle strokes. “Paige baby, please,” she gasped, her body pressing into the touch, craving more.

Paige’s fingers moved with purpose, exploring the slickness of Azzi’s arousal, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. “I want to make you feel good,” she whispered, her eyes locked onto Azzi’s, filled with a mix of love and lust.

Azzi’s body responded fast, her hips moving in rhythm with Paige’s fingers. “Yes, just like that,” she moaned.

“Mmm, i love hearing you like this.” Paige whispered in Azzi’s ear.

“I love the way you touch me” Azzi whispered with a look full of desire.

As Paige continued to work her magic, Azzi felt herself teetering on the edge and the pleasure building within her.

“Fuck you feel so good baby.” she whispered in Azzi’s ear.

Azzi was grinding on Paige’s fingers slowly. Paige’s hand was lazily squeezing her butt and the other holding the side of her neck as her thumb stroked her cheek.

“You’re driving me crazy Az.” Paige whispered with a smile while putting her fingers deep inside.

“Baby please i need you so badly right now, don’t stop.” Azzi responded with a breathy moan.

“I got you princess.” she said as her hands moved faster.

“You’re being so good for me, pretty.” she praises Azzi once again helping her roll her hips against her fingers while gripping tighter around her sides.

“Look at me while you do that.” Azzi said with a needy tone.

“You like that, don’t you gorgeous?” Paige replied with a smirk on her face.

“Omg Paige im close…don’t stop..go harder baby” Azzi’s moans getting louder as she pulls Paige to her.

Paige comes closer to Azzi as she whispers in her ear. “So fucking hot taking it so good”

Azzi wrapped her legs around Paige’s waist as her hips rocked faster. Azzi’s so close, her legs are starting to hurt but Paige keeps up the pace, working Azzi through her orgasm. Her entire body shakes as she becomes incredibly sensitive and slows the movement of her hips.

Azzi takes both of her hands to cup Paige’s face. “I love you” she looks deep into Paige’s eyes.

“I love you to Azzi” Paige says as she brings Azzi in for a passionate kiss. Her tongue sliding across Azzi’s bottom lip. After they pull away she smiles at Azzi bringing her forehead to hers.

It wasn’t just passion, it was something more.

Something they couldn’t name yet, but something they felt deeply.

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There were nights when Paige couldn’t sleep.

Nights when the world outside her window was still and silent, but her mind was anything but. She’d find herself staring at the ceiling, replaying the moments with Azzi—the way her lips felt against hers, the gentle but persistent touch of Azzi’s hands as they navigated the lines between wanting and needing.

It was overwhelming, this thing between them. A slow build, layered with emotions they weren’t sure how to unpack.

She wasn’t used to this—being vulnerable.

Being seen.

Every time she saw Azzi, there was an undeniable pull. A gravity that kept them both tethered, even when they pretended not to notice.

One evening, after another late practice, Paige found herself standing outside Azzi’s apartment building. She had told herself she wouldn’t do this—wouldn’t show up uninvited, wouldn’t cross a line they both knew existed—but her feet carried her here anyway.

She texted Azzi with shaking fingers: “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

A moment passed before Azzi’s reply lit up her screen: “I know. Come up.”

Paige’s heart raced as she hit the elevator button, then made her way up to the familiar door.

When Azzi opened it, she didn’t say a word. She just pulled Paige inside, closing the door behind her.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing, quiet and heavy, both of them standing close, but not quite touching.

“Azzi,” Paige said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Azzi met her eyes, searching, and for a moment, Paige felt like she was about to unravel in front of her.

Azzi didn’t respond with words. Instead, she stepped forward, her fingers brushing Paige’s jaw. It was a gentle touch, a silent question.

And then, she kissed her again.

But this time, it wasn’t frantic. It was slow—soft. They moved together like they had all the time in the world, as though they were both trying to savor the moment.

Paige let herself fall into it, every nerve in her body alive under Azzi’s touch.

They didn’t rush. Instead, they explored. The heat of their closeness, the electricity of their connection, was enough to make the world outside disappear. And in that quiet apartment, Paige began to realize that she wasn’t just falling for Azzi—she was letting herself be found.

The next few days passed in a haze—small touches, lingering glances, conversations held in hushed tones. They didn’t talk about what had happened. They didn’t even acknowledge the weight of it, not really.

But it hung in the air between them, palpable and thick.

One afternoon, after a long practice, they sat together on the steps outside the gym, the warm evening air wrapping around them like a blanket. They were alone, the others already gone, but it was never the right time to speak the words that had been building between them.

Azzi stretched out her legs, leaning back slightly against the steps. Paige sat beside her, her shoulder grazing Azzi’s. The touch was fleeting but meaningful.

“You know,” Azzi began, breaking the silence, “I’ve never really understood how to do this.”

Paige’s heart skipped a beat. “Do what?”

Azzi glanced over at her, her eyes serious, but there was a softness there too. “Let someone in. Let someone stay.”

Paige felt a flutter in her chest. “I didn’t think you had that problem.”

Azzi’s lips curved into a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I do. I think we both do.”

Paige shifted closer, the weight of her words heavier than anything she had said before. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Azzi turned her head to look at her then, her gaze intense, searching. “You sure about that?”

Paige nodded, her breath catching in her throat. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

They were quiet for a moment, the weight of what was unspoken between them settling into the space. It wasn’t just about physical attraction—it was about trust. About the willingness to give yourself to someone else and let them have a piece of your heart, even if it wasn’t perfect.

Azzi leaned in then, closing the distance between them. It was soft, tender—this time it wasn’t the frantic passion of before, but something deeper. Their lips met gently, and Paige let out a sigh, closing her eyes and giving herself up to the feeling.

They pulled apart, but Azzi’s hand lingered on Paige’s cheek, thumb brushing against her skin as if memorizing the curve of her face.

“I want to believe you,” Azzi whispered, “but I’m scared.”

Paige leaned into her hand, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared too.”

And in that moment, Paige realized that maybe fear wasn’t something to avoid. Maybe it was a sign that they were both invested—both willing to risk it all for something they couldn’t explain but didn’t want to let go of.

The next few weeks were a blur of stolen moments and quiet intimacy. They’d meet in secret—behind closed doors, in dark corners where no one could see them, and it felt like they were living in their own world, separated from everything else.

But as much as they both craved each other’s touch, there was always the lingering tension—the fear of what might happen if anyone found out. Paige couldn’t help but wonder how much longer they could keep it a secret. How much longer they could keep pretending that nothing was different.

One night, after an especially intense game, they found themselves alone again. It was late, the gym empty, and the only light came from the overhead lamps casting long shadows on the court.

Azzi was waiting for her near the locker rooms, leaning against the doorframe. Paige’s pulse quickened when she saw her, the magnetic pull between them almost tangible.

Azzi pushed herself off the wall and walked toward Paige, her gaze never leaving hers.

“You’re always so quiet,” Azzi said softly, her voice a little teasing, but there was something more in it. “But I know you’re thinking about something.”

Paige couldn’t help but laugh, the sound almost nervous. “You’re impossible.”

Azzi smirked. “And you like it.”

Before Paige could respond, Azzi was close again, her lips brushing against her ear. “Tell me what you want.”

Paige’s breath caught in her throat. “I want…” She paused, unsure of what to say. How to put into words what she felt—what she needed.

Azzi’s hand gently cupped her jaw, lifting her face so their eyes met. “Tell me.”

And in that moment, everything felt clear. No more pretending. No more uncertainty.

“I want you,” Paige whispered, her voice thick with desire and truth. “I want this, Azzi. No more running.”

Azzi kissed her then, slow and deep, as if they were both finally allowing themselves to feel what they had been hiding for so long.

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The hardest part about a secret relationship wasn’t the stolen glances or the quiet kisses.

It was the constant strain on your chest—the pressure that built up every time you had to hide how you truly felt.

For Azzi, it was getting harder and harder to keep her distance from Paige when every part of her wanted to be closer.

They couldn’t just exist in their own little world. No, the weight of their secret was beginning to bear down on them. Every time someone looked at them, she couldn’t help but wonder: Did they know?

At practice, when they passed each other, the air between them was thick with unspoken tension. She could see the way Paige would catch her eye for a moment, only to look away quickly. How the hint of a smile would flicker across her lips, like a confession she wasn’t ready to make.

Azzi wanted more.

She wanted more than just stolen moments. She wanted to be able to hold Paige’s hand in public, kiss her in broad daylight, feel the rush of the world around them. But each time she let herself think about it, a knot would form in her stomach. There were too many things at stake.

She had to keep reminding herself—this was for the best. This was safer.

But even that comfort was starting to fray.

Paige had been different lately. More distant. Azzi could feel the shift, the cracks in their perfect little bubble. She had caught Paige looking at her with something in her eyes, something searching. And that look always unsettled her.

Paige wasn’t the type to hide things, and Azzi feared that at some point, Paige would ask questions they both knew they weren’t ready to answer.

The worst part was the fear that Paige might start resenting the secrecy. The fact that she was constantly forced to pretend.

One night, after an intense game, they found themselves alone in the locker room. The air was thick with exhaustion, sweat clinging to their clothes, but the exhaustion didn’t feel as draining as it had before. It was a different kind of tired now—the kind that came from pretending to be something they weren’t.

Azzi was just taking off her jersey when Paige spoke.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

The words felt like a punch to the gut. Azzi froze, turning to look at Paige, who had her back to her, staring at the floor.

“Do what?” Azzi asked, her voice rough, betraying the fear that was growing in her chest.

Paige didn’t turn around, but she spoke in a voice Azzi could hear cracking. “This. The secret. The hiding.”

Azzi’s chest tightened. She knew it was coming. She had known it all along. “You knew this was the only way,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, but it wavered.

“I know,” Paige replied, her voice softer now, and Azzi could almost hear the pain in her words. “But it feels like we’re lying. Like we’re pretending to be someone else every time we’re around other people. It’s exhausting, Az.”

Azzi stepped forward, closing the distance between them. She reached out to place a hand on Paige’s shoulder, urging her to turn around.

“Look at me.”

When Paige turned, Azzi saw the conflict written all over her face. It was a mix of frustration and longing—an emotion Azzi knew all too well.

“I want this. I want you,” Azzi said, her words barely a whisper. “But I’m scared. I’m scared of losing you, Paige. Scared that if I let myself want you, we’ll ruin everything.”

Paige’s eyes softened, and for the first time in days, Azzi could see the vulnerability in her gaze. “You’re not going to lose me,” Paige whispered back. “But I need you to trust me, too. I can’t keep doing this in the shadows.”

Azzi’s heart raced, but she pulled Paige into her arms anyway, holding her close. “I trust you,” she murmured into Paige’s hair. “More than anything.”

They stood there for a moment, just holding each other, letting the weight of everything slip away—if only for a few minutes.

The days that followed felt like a slow unraveling. There were still moments of closeness—those brief but intense touches that spoke volumes, a look exchanged across the room that felt like a secret all on its own. But it wasn’t the same.

Paige was struggling with the fact that they couldn’t share their love with the world. She wanted to be able to call Azzi hers. To show everyone that she was the one who had her heart. But Azzi, on the other hand, felt like she was protecting them both by keeping things hidden.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been the same lately,” Paige said one night, sitting on the couch beside Azzi, her hands nervously twisting a blanket.

Azzi looked over at her, brushing her hair back. “I know. I get it. You’re frustrated.”

“I just—I just want to hold your hand when we go out. I want to kiss you in front of people, not hide in corners like we’re doing something wrong,” Paige said, her voice cracking with emotion.

Azzi reached for Paige’s hand, holding it tightly. “I know. I want that too. But we’re not ready. If anyone found out, it could—”

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks,” Paige interrupted, her voice firm, but the uncertainty in her eyes told a different story. “I care about us. And I can’t keep pretending anymore.”

Azzi let out a deep breath, her thumb brushing over Paige’s hand. “I’m scared too, you know. Of what might happen if we go public. It’s not just about us. It’s about everything else—our careers, our friends, our families. We’re not in control of the way people will react. If it’s too much…”

Paige’s eyes softened as she squeezed Azzi’s hand tighter. “I know. But I can’t keep pretending it’s easy when it’s not. I can’t pretend I don’t love you.”

Azzi’s heart skipped a beat..

“I love you too,” Azzi whispered, the words leaving her lips with a mix of relief and fear.

They were silent for a long time, just holding each other, knowing that the weight of their feelings had only grown heavier with time. But there was no going back now. The love they shared couldn’t stay buried forever.

The days after their confession were a blur of emotions. It was like they were both waking up to a reality they had been avoiding. They couldn’t hide from each other anymore.

And they couldn’t hide from their fears either.

Azzi had always been good at keeping control of her emotions, but now they were threatening to spill over. She could feel herself unraveling as the pressure of keeping everything secret began to weigh down on her.

One evening, during a team event, Azzi’s patience snapped. She had been watching Paige from across the room, unable to tear her eyes away, and it was too much. The way everyone around them acted like they had no idea what was going on between them—it felt suffocating.

Azzi pulled Paige into a quiet corner, away from prying eyes, and before she even had time to think, she found herself kissing Paige, desperate for the touch, the release from the tension that had built between them.

But it wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t enough.

Azzi pulled back, breathing heavily. “I can’t keep doing this, Paige,” she said, her voice breaking. “I can’t keep pretending everything is okay when it feels like it’s killing me inside.”

Paige’s eyes were wide with shock, but she didn’t back away. “I’m not pretending, Azzi. I’m not pretending anymore.”

Azzi took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. “Then what do we do now?”

Paige reached for her hand, holding it tightly. “We face it together.”

And for the first time, Azzi realized that maybe they didn’t need to hide anymore. Maybe they could build something stronger than the fear of what might happen.

──────────── ౨ৎ ───────────

The gym was eerily quiet.

The usual hum of sneakers on the court, the sounds of whistles, and the rhythmic thud of basketballs bouncing had long since faded away. The late afternoon light filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the hardwood floors, giving the place an almost serene feeling.

Paige and Azzi were alone now.

There was something about the empty gym that had always made Paige feel exposed and vulnerable, yet tonight, as she stood beside Azzi, she felt an undeniable sense of calm. It was as if the quiet made it easier to breathe—to finally exist outside of the constraints they had put on themselves.

They had stolen moments like this before—quick, fleeting touches when no one was watching, stolen glances in the hallways, quiet laughter shared in passing. But tonight felt different.

Azzi stepped closer to her, brushing her hand gently against Paige’s. “You feel that?” Azzi asked softly, her voice low. “It’s like we’re the only two people in the world.”

Paige’s heart skipped a beat. She looked at Azzi, her eyes filled with something she couldn’t name—a mixture of longing, excitement, and something deeper, something she had been afraid to acknowledge.

“I know,” Paige replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s nice… being here with you, just the two of us.”

Azzi leaned in, her lips just a breath away from Paige’s ear. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” she murmured, and the words sent a shiver down Paige’s spine.

There was no more need for words, not now. Slowly, gently, Azzi pulled Paige in, capturing her lips in a kiss that felt like the world had finally aligned. It wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t frantic. It was slow, deliberate, as if they had all the time in the world to savor each moment, each touch.

Paige’s fingers traced the curve of Azzi’s neck, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath her fingertips. Azzi’s hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer, the heat between them building with every second. They were finally letting go of the fear, the restraint that had held them back for so long.

For a few minutes, there was no one else in the world but them. Just the soft sounds of their breathing, the rhythmic beating of their hearts, the gentle rustling of their clothes as they pressed closer together.

But as the moment stretched on, they both forgot something.

They forgot that they weren’t truly alone.

The door to the gym creaked open, just slightly.

Paige and Azzi didn’t notice at first. They were too caught up in each other, too wrapped up in the intimacy that had finally blossomed between them. They kissed deeper, their bodies instinctively moving closer, and for a brief moment, the world outside their bubble seemed to disappear entirely.

But then, a voice broke through the silence.

“Really? In the gym?”

Azzi froze, her lips still hovering inches from Paige’s. She pulled away slowly, a mixture of shock and embarrassment flashing across her face.

Standing in the doorway was none other than their teammate, Ice—eyes wide with disbelief but a knowing smirk slowly forming across her lips.

“Well, well,” Ice teased, “look at you two. Never thought I’d see the day. But honestly? I’m not even surprised.”

Paige’s face turned crimson, and she instinctively pulled away from Azzi, as if she had been caught doing something wrong. But then she glanced at Azzi, and to her surprise, Azzi was smiling—softly, but with a hint of amusement.

“What? You’re not surprised?” Azzi asked, raising an eyebrow, her voice a mix of playful curiosity and gentle teasing.

Ice crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Please. You two have been so obvious for weeks now.” She laughed softly. “I mean, the way you look at each other? Come on. It was only a matter of time.”

Paige felt a rush of heat rise to her face, and for a split second, she wanted to disappear into the floor. But Azzi, to her surprise, didn’t seem fazed at all.

“So, you’re not gonna tell anyone?” Azzi asked, her tone casual, as if they were discussing something trivial.

Ice shrugged. “Why would I? Honestly, I think it’s kind of cute. I’ll let you two figure things out. But don’t think you’re fooling anyone.” She gave them both a knowing smile and turned to leave.

Paige stood there, stunned, as the sound of Ice’s footsteps faded. She glanced at Azzi, who had her arms crossed now, a small smirk still playing on her lips.

“You’re not embarrassed?” Paige asked, her voice quieter now, the weight of the situation sinking in.

Azzi shrugged, stepping closer to Paige again. “Honestly, no. I think it’s a relief.” She ran a hand through her hair. “We’ve been hiding this for so long, it feels like a weight has been lifted. And now, we don’t have to pretend anymore.”

Paige looked at Azzi, her heart thumping in her chest. “You really think that?”

Azzi nodded, her gaze steady. “Yeah. I mean, sure, it’s going to take some time to get used to. But we don’t need to hide. We can be ourselves around our teammates. They already know. And if they want to make fun of us? So be it. But at least it’ll be our truth, you know?”

Paige felt something shift inside her—a sense of relief she hadn’t realized she needed. They didn’t have to keep hiding. They didn’t have to live in the shadows anymore.

“I’m kind of scared, though,” Paige admitted, her voice small. “What if things change? What if it becomes…awkward?”

Azzi took a step forward, closing the distance between them again. She cupped Paige’s face gently, her thumb brushing across her cheek. “I get it. But that’s the thing—we’re doing this together. We can handle whatever comes. And if people have a problem with it? That’s their issue, not ours.”

Paige nodded slowly, feeling the tension in her chest ease. Azzi was right. They had spent so long worrying about what everyone else would think that they hadn’t given themselves the chance to just be.

Azzi leaned in and kissed her, slow and tender, but this time, it was different. It wasn’t about hiding—it was about claiming each other, letting go of the fear that had held them back for so long.

They pulled away, both of them smiling now, the weight of their secret finally lifted. The room felt lighter, the space between them finally filled with ease.

“You’re right,” Paige said, her voice soft but filled with newfound confidence. “We don’t have to hide anymore.”

Azzi smiled, her eyes shining with a mixture of relief and affection. “No. We don’t.”

As they stood there, surrounded by the echo of their teammates’ laughter, they both realized that this was just the beginning. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together. They didn’t need to hide. They didn’t need to pretend.

What they had was real.

And nothing could change that.

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions for Paige and Azzi. The awkwardness that both had feared didn’t seem to materialize, though. Their teammates had already caught on, and despite the teasing and jokes, there was an unspoken understanding. Everyone seemed to accept that they were together, and as the days passed, the atmosphere around them started to settle. The team wasn’t shocked, they had all seen the connection between Paige and Azzi for weeks, if not months.

Yet there was a quiet moment that kept replaying in Paige’s mind: the kiss in the gym, the way Azzi had held her, the way she had confessed her fears and vulnerabilities. That was the moment she realized how much she had longed for this—to stop hiding, to be herself with the person she loved. And it was a feeling she was beginning to cherish, not fear.

But that didn’t mean everything was easy.

There were still moments when Paige found herself worrying about how the outside world would perceive them. What if the media got a hold of it? What if their fans—who loved them both—couldn’t understand? What if it changed their dynamic on the court?

Azzi, on the other hand, was more relaxed about it all. She knew the rumors were already swirling, but for her, the idea of being with Paige openly outweighed the potential complications. She had always been someone who believed in authenticity, even when it was hard, even when it required vulnerability.

That night, they sat together on Paige’s couch, their shoulders lightly touching. The TV was playing something in the background, but neither of them was paying much attention to it. They had just finished dinner, and the conversation had drifted to more personal things—things they hadn’t shared before, things that felt too important to leave unsaid.

“Do you think it’ll get weird?” Paige asked, her voice quiet, almost hesitant.

Azzi looked at her, eyes full of warmth. “What, being out in the open? You mean, with everyone knowing?”

Paige nodded. “Yeah. Like, will things change?”

Azzi smiled softly, her gaze steady. “We can’t control how other people react. But we can control how we handle it. And as long as we’re honest with each other, I think we’ll be fine. Besides,” she added with a mischievous grin, “I’m not really one to hide who I’m with. Never really was.”

Paige couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, I figured. You’ve always been kind of fearless.”

Azzi leaned in, her lips brushing against Paige’s ear. “Only when I know what I want,” she whispered.

The closeness between them was electric, a silent acknowledgment of everything they had been through to get to this point. It wasn’t just about the physical attraction—it was about trust, vulnerability, and understanding. It was the quiet moments like this that reminded Paige why she had fallen for Azzi in the first place.

But not everyone shared the same calm demeanor that Azzi seemed to carry so effortlessly. As the days passed, the team began to show more curiosity. Some of them were supportive, some of them gave gentle teasing, but others, like Ice, took to joking around in a way that felt less than kind at times. Still, Paige had come to terms with the fact that people’s reactions were beyond their control.

It wasn’t until the team was having a post-practice dinner at a local restaurant that Paige felt a twinge of discomfort. The group had settled into their usual booth, the chatter and laughter filling the air as the evening wore on. Paige and Azzi were sitting beside each other, sharing a basket of fries, trying to ignore the occasional sideways glance or whispered comment.

At one point, Ice made a remark about how “cute” the two of them looked together. The others chimed in with their own teasing comments, but it wasn’t in a malicious way—it was more playful than anything. Paige, however, could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. She tried to brush it off, but it was hard not to feel exposed.

“Do you think they’re staring?” Paige whispered to Azzi, her voice low.

Azzi, sensing her discomfort, leaned in a little closer. “Don’t let it bother you. People are always going to have something to say. But you and I know what this is, right?”

Paige met her gaze, and for a second, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. “Yeah,” she said, her heart full of certainty. “I know.”

And for the first time in a long while, Paige realized that this was the moment where their relationship was no longer about secrecy. It wasn’t about hiding in the shadows. It was about them, about their love, and about how much stronger it had made them both.

The team’s joking continued, but it no longer had the sting it once did. As time went on, Paige and Azzi grew more comfortable being together. They no longer felt the need to hide or downplay their connection. In fact, Paige found herself standing a little taller when they were in public, walking with a confidence she hadn’t realized she lacked before. Azzi’s quiet support and unwavering belief in them gave her the strength to carry that confidence.

It wasn’t just about being open in front of their teammates. It was about opening up to each other in ways they hadn’t done before. They started sharing more than just their feelings for each other—they shared their hopes, their fears, and their dreams for the future.

One night, as they sat together in the quiet of Paige’s apartment, Azzi spoke about something that had been on her mind for a while.

“I’ve always been afraid of… of not being good enough,” she admitted, her voice soft. “Afraid that if I give myself fully to someone, I’ll let them down.”

Paige’s heart ached at hearing this. She reached for Azzi’s hand, gently squeezing it. “You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to do anything but be you,” Paige said, her voice firm, yet tender. “I love you just the way you are. And I trust you with everything I have.”

Azzi’s eyes softened, and she leaned in, pressing her forehead against Paige’s. “I love you, too. More than you’ll ever know.”

In that moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift off their shoulders. They no longer needed to be afraid of the outside world or the things they couldn’t control. What they had was theirs, and nothing—no matter how difficult it might be—could take that away.

The next morning, as they walked into practice, it was different. They were still the same Paige and Azzi that their teammates knew, but there was something new—a sense of peace between them. No more secrets. No more pretending. They didn’t have to hide their feelings anymore.

As they lined up for drills, Azzi caught Paige’s eye and gave her a small, knowing smile. Paige smiled back, her heart light.

For the first time in a long while, they both felt like they could breathe easy. No matter what came next, they had each other. And for Paige, that was all that mattered.

──────────── ౨ৎ ───────────

It had been a month since Paige and Azzi had stopped hiding their relationship. The team had largely accepted it, though there were still moments of teasing. But Paige no longer cared. She wasn’t hiding anymore. Neither of them were.

Tonight was different, though. The team had been invited to a party to celebrate the end of the season, a mix of teammates, coaches, and friends. Paige was looking forward to it in a way she hadn’t anticipated. It wasn’t just a team event. It was an opportunity to finally enjoy the freedom they had earned, to let loose without worrying about being watched.

Azzi had been in her element all evening—laughing, chatting, and looking effortlessly stunning in a sleek black dress that clung to her body perfectly. The fabric shimmered under the lights as she moved through the crowd, her long legs highlighted by the high heels she wore. Paige couldn’t help but stare, her gaze tracing every curve of Azzi’s form. There was something about the way she carried herself tonight—the confidence, the grace—that made Paige’s heart race.

“You good?” Ice asked Paige, noticing her distracted expression.

Paige didn’t immediately respond. Her eyes were locked on Azzi, who was chatting with some of the other girls from the team. Azzi’s smile was radiant, her laughter contagious, and the way she threw her head back in amusement made Paige’s heart flutter.

“I’m more than good,” Paige finally said, her voice a little breathier than usual.

Ice smirked. “I see how it is,” she teased, nudging Paige’s shoulder. “You’re looking at her like you can’t wait to drag her home.”

Paige flushed, but she couldn’t deny it. The desire was there, unspoken but undeniable. Azzi had always had that effect on her. And tonight, it felt different—like the air between them had thickened, like the weight of their love was becoming too much to ignore.

As the night went on, the alcohol flowed freely, and the atmosphere became more relaxed. Paige and Azzi found themselves in a quiet corner of the room, away from the crowd. They weren’t as concerned with the party as they were with each other. The music pulsed in the background, and the dim lighting set a sultry mood.

Azzi took a sip of her drink, her eyes meeting Paige’s with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. “You look amazing tonight,” she said, her voice low, filled with warmth.

Paige could feel the heat rising to her face at the compliment, but she smiled softly. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Azzi. Every part of her wanted to reach out, to touch her, to feel that closeness again.

Azzi’s gaze didn’t waver. She set her drink down and took a step closer to Paige. “It’s hard to focus when you keep looking at me like that,” she whispered, her lips brushing Paige’s ear as she spoke. “You make it impossible to stay composed.”

Paige’s breath hitched. She was intoxicated, but it wasn’t the alcohol that made her dizzy. It was Azzi. The way her presence consumed Paige entirely, the way she made everything else fade away.

Before Paige could respond, Azzi gently cupped her face and pulled her in for a kiss. It started soft, tender, a slow exploration of each other’s lips. But as the kiss deepened, it became more urgent, more needy. The heat between them surged, the way it always did when they were together.

“Paige,” Azzi murmured against her lips, “I want you.”

The words hung in the air, raw and honest. There was no hiding anymore, no games. In that moment, everything was laid bare between them.

Paige felt herself melting into Azzi’s touch, her hands sliding around Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer. Her fingers slid beneath the fabric of Azzi’s dress, tracing the smooth skin of her back. It felt electric, and every kiss sent waves of desire crashing through her.

Azzi’s breath was shallow now, and Paige could feel the tension building between them. They weren’t alone anymore. The world was still spinning around them, but for once, they didn’t care. It was just the two of them in this moment, their bodies speaking the language they had been waiting to share.

Somehow, they found their way to a quiet room upstairs. The noise of the party seemed distant now, almost irrelevant. In this moment, they were just Paige and Azzi—no teammates, no expectations, just two people who had finally let go of everything that had been holding them back.

Azzi’s hands were all over her now, pulling at the hem of Paige’s shirt, tugging it over her head. Paige’s breath caught in her throat as the cool air of the room brushed against her skin. She had never wanted anyone like this before—never felt this needed.

“Are you sure?” Paige asked, her voice a little unsteady. She could feel the intensity of the moment rising, but there was still a part of her that wanted to make sure they were on the same page.

Azzi’s eyes were dark with desire, but there was no hesitation. “I’m sure,” she whispered, her voice a low growl.

Before Paige could say another word, Azzi kissed her again, this time with a fire that had been simmering for far too long. Their bodies were pressed together, heat radiating between them, the world outside forgotten.

The kiss deepened, and Paige felt a wave of passion surge through her. She reached for the zipper of Azzi’s dress, tugging it down slowly, feeling her pulse race with each inch of skin revealed. Azzi’s hands were on Paige’s back now, guiding her toward the bed. They had crossed a line, and neither of them could stop now.

Azzi’s hands roamed across Paige’s body with an urgency that matched Paige’s own need. Every touch felt like a revelation, every kiss a promise. There was no holding back, no need for words. Their bodies spoke a language of their own—a language of love, of trust, of desire.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered. They were each other’s, completely.

The morning after was a haze of tangled sheets, soft light streaming through the windows, and the weight of what had happened settling in. Paige woke up first, her body still tingling with the aftershocks of the night before. She turned to look at Azzi, who was still asleep beside her, her hair tousled and her breathing soft and steady.

For a long time, Paige simply watched her. She never imagined herself here, with someone like Azzi—someone so strong, so confident, yet so vulnerable in their own way. The way they had connected, not just physically but emotionally, had transformed something inside Paige. She wasn’t afraid anymore.

Azzi stirred, her eyes fluttering open, and when she saw Paige looking at her, she smiled—soft, genuine, filled with love.

“You’re still here,” Azzi murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

Paige smiled, brushing a strand of hair from Azzi’s face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

They had crossed a line the night before, and yet, for the first time in their relationship, Paige felt completely sure of herself, of them. There was no fear now—only love. A love that was deep, real, and undeniable.

Azzi reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “You’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever been,” she whispered.

Paige kissed her forehead softly. “Same here.”

It was the beginning of something real, something that couldn’t be broken by the judgment of others or the pressures of the world. They were in this together, and nothing was going to tear them apart.

[babsf1world]

FAULT LINE.

“So stay for the night, it’ll bury the crime.” — Your relationship ended, but neither of you seem to let go. It took you multiple nights to realize what’s it all about.

pairing. Lando Norris x fem! reader

warnings. angst, hurt/no comfort, mention of sexual activities, unhealthy ex relationship, Lando being dickhead and fuckboy, mention of cheating.

music. Siren Sounds by Tate Mcrae.

LN4 masterlist. // Main masterlist.

FROM THE START, you knew deep down that your relationship with Lando Norris was something of a modern tragedy, destined to unravel in chaos. There was an inevitability to it—a feeling you couldn't shake, no matter how many times you convinced yourself otherwise. Something about the two of you felt doomed, as if the universe itself had conspired to keep you apart.

How could he date someone like you? That question lingered in your mind more than you cared to admit, sowing tiny seeds of doubt that threatened to grow.

Everyone told you he was wrong for you. His party demeanor, his carefree lifestyle—none of it aligned with yours. You heard the whispers, the warnings, the concerned looks that came with every mention of his name. He wasn’t the type to settle down, they said. He wasn’t the type to treat you the way you deserved. But you didn’t want to believe them. You couldn’t, because to believe them would mean letting go of the image you had built of him in your mind.

For a while, you held onto hope, believing that perhaps your connection was different, special. You thought you saw sides of him that others didn’t, glimpses of vulnerability that he only showed to you. Maybe, just maybe, you could be the one to change him.

But hope has its limits, and reality eventually makes its way through even the most determined denial. At least you found out the truth—he cheated. The realization hit like a blow to the chest, knocking the wind out of you. You had seen the signs, of course. The late-night texts, the moments when he seemed distant, distracted. But you ignored them, telling yourself it was nothing, that he cared for you more than he let on.

When the truth came out, it shattered the fragile illusion you had been holding onto. You didn’t scream or cry, at least not in front of him. Instead, you stood there, numb, as he fumbled for excuses that you didn’t want to hear. The betrayal burned, the realization that you had ignored the warnings, pushed aside the doubts, only to end up here, heartbroken and questioning everything.

You knew from the beginning that it was destined to be a disaster. But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

For the first time in your life, you had done something purely for yourself. You had walked away from the chaos, from the heartbreak, from Lando Norris. It was liberating, empowering even. You told yourself you were done, that you were moving on, that you deserved better. But then, as if he could sense your newfound strength, Lando started to pull you back in.

It began with the texts—short, simple messages that carried far more weight than they should have. “I miss you,” he’d write, and you’d stare at the screen, torn between deleting the message and replying. Then came the calls, his voice on the other end of the line, soft and familiar, stirring emotions you thought you had buried. Sometimes, those calls ended with him at your doorstep, his presence filling the space you had tried so hard to make your own.

Even though you told yourself you were far from over him, the truth was undeniable. You loved him. Part of you hated him, too, for the pain he had caused, for the betrayal that had shattered your trust. But you couldn’t let him go. No matter how much you tried, no matter how many times you told yourself it was over, he had a hold on you that you couldn’t break.

If he wanted to be a casual fling, a “fuckbuddy,” as you bitterly called it in your mind, you’d let him. Because the thought of losing him again was unbearable. You’d rather have him in fragments than not at all. It was a tragic compromise, one that left you feeling hollow and conflicted, but it was the only way you knew how to keep him in your life.

Every time he came over, you told yourself it would be the last. You’d let him in, share a moment of intimacy, and then promise yourself you’d end it. But when he looked at you with those unforgettable eyes, when he smiled that devastating smile, all your resolve crumbled. He was your weakness, your addiction, and no matter how much you hated yourself for it, you couldn’t walk away.

“I have to go,” Lando said abruptly, his voice cutting through the stillness of the room. He was already moving, quickly getting up from the bed and gathering his clothes from the floor in a hurried, almost frantic manner. You lay there, still trying to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling as you watched him. The sight was all too familiar—him leaving, always leaving.

“Like always,” you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes as you sat up and began to pull on your clothes. The words were laced with bitterness, but you didn’t bother to hide it. Why should you? This wasn’t the first time, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last. He was always in a rush, always somewhere else to be, someone else to see.

There was no aftercare, no lingering moments of tenderness, no asking how you were doing. Nothing. It was as if the sex you just had evaporated the moment he decided it was time to leave. The bed still carried the warmth of his presence, but the room already felt colder, emptier.

You glanced at him as he pulled his shirt over his head, his movements quick and efficient, like he was checking off a task on a to-do list. He didn’t even look at you, didn’t notice the way your expression hardened, the way your hands trembled slightly as you buttoned your shirt.

This was the pattern, the routine you had come to expect. And yet, every time it happened, it stung just as much as the first. You told yourself you were fine with it, that you didn’t need more from him, but deep down, you knew that wasn’t true. You wanted more—more than hurried goodbyes and empty promises, more than being just another pitstop on his endless journey.

You followed him to the kitchen, your feet moving before your mind could decide why. There he was, standing by the counter, tossing his keys in his hand as if he couldn’t wait to leave. “See you later. I love you,” he said casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Every word of that sentence landed like a question in your head. See you later? Absolutely not. And I love you? Did he even mean it, or was it just something he said out of habit? It made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t quite put into words.

“Yeah, of course,” you snapped, cutting him off mid-departure. The edge in your voice was unmistakable, sharp enough to make him stop in his tracks. His hand froze on the doorknob, and he turned to face you, his brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping closer, his voice softer now.

You crossed your arms, the tension in your body rising with every step he took toward you. Oh, so now he cares? you thought bitterly. It was ironic, really. When he was cold, distant, disappearing without a second thought, it was fine. He didn’t ask how you felt, didn’t stay long enough to notice. But now, when you mirrored that same detachment, it wasn’t okay. Now, he wanted answers.

“Nothing,” you shrugged casually, your tone as indifferent as you could muster. Right, nothing was wrong. Why was he even asking that? The question felt hollow, almost laughable, given the circumstances. You turned away slightly, avoiding his gaze, as if the act of looking at him might unravel the fragile composure you were clinging to.

“You know I love you,” he said, his voice soft but insistent, as though repeating the words would make them true. But for you, they were far from the truth. You didn’t know it. How could you? Love wasn’t supposed to feel like this—like a constant tug-of-war between hope and heartbreak, between wanting more and settling for less.

“You say that only because we fuck,” you reminded him, your voice sharp and cutting. The words hung heavy in the air, a brutal truth you couldn’t hold back any longer. You knew why he said those words, why he threw them out so casually. They weren’t rooted in love; they were a reflex, a way to keep you tethered to him. And you hated that you let them work.

He looked confused, his brows furrowing as he tried to process your accusation. “That’s not true,” he started, but his voice faltered, lacking conviction. You could see the cracks in his confidence, the way your words had shaken him. For once, he didn’t have a quick comeback, didn’t know how to charm his way out of the situation.

“That is true, Lando,” you said, your laugh tinged with sarcasm, the bitterness slipping through despite your best efforts to mask it. You wished—no, you longed—for his visits to be driven by love, by something deeper, something real. But you knew better. You knew why he was here, and it wasn’t for the reasons you wanted.

“You’re here only because you’re horny,” you sighed, the words heavy with resignation. You crossed your arms, trying to steady yourself, to stand your ground even as your heart wavered. The truth was out now, hanging in the air between you like a storm cloud. You watched his expression shift, the faint flicker of confusion crossing his face.

“And if you don’t remember,” you added, your voice firmer now, “we are broken up.” The words felt like a shield, a reminder to yourself as much as to him. You weren’t supposed to be doing this, letting him back into your life, into your bed, into your heart. But here you were, caught in the same cycle, trying desperately to break free.

Lando paused, his hand still resting on the edge of the counter. His brows furrowed slightly, as if he were trying to process what you had just said. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his tone defensive, almost incredulous. It was as though the idea of his intentions being questioned had never even crossed his mind.

You shook your head, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Don’t act like you don’t know,” you said, your voice quieter now but no less resolute. “You come here, you say the things you think I want to hear, and then you leave. It’s always the same.”

For some reason, he was quiet now. Maybe because, for once, you were telling the truth he couldn’t deny. The silence stretched, thick and oppressive, and it only fueled your frustration. “Oh my god, Lando!” you shouted, your voice breaking the stillness as you threw your hands in the air. “Why don’t you even try to defend yourself a bit?” Your words came out sharp and raw, laced with the bitterness of all the times he had made you feel small, unseen.

He flinched at your outburst, his gaze dropping to the floor, but his lips remained sealed for a long moment. Then, finally, he spoke. “I love you, Y/n, but it’s just not that simple.” His voice was low, almost pleading, as though he expected those words to be enough to fix the shattered pieces between you.

But they weren’t. Not anymore. You were done being nice, done bending over backward in desperation to keep something alive that was slowly killing you inside. You were done clinging to empty words and hollow promises. “Can you stop lying, Lando?” you shot back, your tone venomous, toxic in its delivery. “Can you stop lying for at least a second in your damn life?”

His head snapped up, his expression shifting between confusion and hurt. “I’m not lying,” he said quietly, but you didn’t believe him. Not a single word. His declarations of love felt cheap, as fleeting as the visits where he left you feeling more broken than before.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself for what you were about to say. The words came unfiltered, raw, and unrestrained. “I’m done,” you said, your voice firm and unwavering. “I’m done with this shit. I’m done with you.” The weight of your declaration hung heavy in the air, and for the first time, you felt a sense of clarity, as though the fog of confusion and heartbreak had finally lifted.

“What do you mean?” Lando asked, his expression shifting to one of disbelief. It was almost comical, the way he looked at you now, as if he didn’t understand English anymore. His confusion only fueled your anger, the fire burning hotter with every second he stood there, pretending not to know.

“Get off of my fucking eyes, that’s what I mean,” you snapped, your voice sharp and cutting. You wouldn’t beg again, wouldn’t plead for him to stay or try to fix what was already broken beyond repair. You were done being the one who cared more, who tried harder, who sacrificed everything for someone who gave so little in return. “You ruined everything,” you added, the words spilling out like a final blow.

“But I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said, his tone soft, almost pleading. No way. Was he joking now? The audacity of his words made your blood boil. How could he stand there, after everything he had done, and say something so utterly meaningless?

“You should have thought of that before you cheated, asshole,” you shot back, your voice dripping with venom. The truth was out now, and there was no taking it back. You weren’t holding anything in anymore, weren’t sugarcoating your pain to make him feel better. He deserved to hear it, every word, every ounce of anger and betrayal you had bottled up for far too long.

“Get out,” you said, your voice firm and steady as you pointed at the door. The finality in your tone echoed in the room, leaving no space for negotiation. Lando froze, his hand still resting by his side, as his eyes locked onto yours one last time. Those green eyes—piercing, unforgettable, the ones that had once undone you every time—met your gaze, pleading silently for a chance. But this time, you felt none of the pull that had always kept you tethered to him. This time, you resisted.

“No, just let me explain—” he began, his voice desperate, his words rushed as if he could fix everything if he only spoke fast enough. But you wouldn’t let him. You wouldn’t let him use his excuses or empty promises to worm his way back into your life.

“Get out before I call the police,” you interrupted, your voice cutting through his plea like a knife. Your words carried an unmistakable edge, final and unyielding, daring him to challenge you. You stood your ground, your hand still pointing toward the door, your expression resolute. You weren’t going to beg anymore, nor would you let yourself fall for his attempts to salvage what was already irreparably broken.

Lando hesitated, his expression shifting from desperation to something unreadable. For a moment, it seemed as though he might protest, try one more time to explain, to reason with you. But the weight of your command—the realization that you wouldn’t bend this time—settled over him, and he finally relented. Without another word, he turned away, his movements stiff and mechanical, like he was forcing himself to leave.

The sound of the door opening and closing echoed through the room, marking his departure with a harsh finality. You stood still for a moment, staring at the empty space where he had been, your chest tight with a mixture of relief and lingering pain. You had done it—made him leave, chosen yourself for once. But the victory felt bittersweet, as if closing this chapter had come at a cost you weren’t yet ready to fully comprehend.

The room was quiet now, but the silence felt different. It wasn’t suffocating, wasn’t filled with the tension of unspoken words. It was lighter, freer, and for the first time, you felt like you could breathe. You exhaled slowly, letting the weight of him, of everything he had put you through, begin to slip away.

You were alone now, but it didn’t feel like a loss. It felt like the start of something new—something that was yours, something that didn’t revolve around him anymore.

[pamelaiscrying]

write something with calafiori please😭

You know i love me calafiori too much but goddamn i know my love is a secret asshole.

B.A.S

A Riccardo calafiori fanfic

Summary: There were three times were you and calafiori went back to each other.

B.A.S

Your history with Riccardo went back long before he ever got with his ex.

But what were you, really? That was never clear.

There were nights when his hands knew every inch of your skin, when his mouth traced secrets against your collarbone. Mornings when his warmth still lingered on the sheets, but by midday, it was as if nothing had ever happened. Neither of you dared to define it, too afraid of what the truth might mean.

Trust was never part of the equation. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for both of you to slip into someone else’s arms, to let your lips brush against strangers’ mouths just to prove that none of it mattered. But did it?

Was it insecurity? Denial? Or were you both simply the worst kind of people for a real relationship?

At least you had the self-awareness to admit it. Riccardo, on the other hand, went and got himself a whole damn girlfriend—only to ruin it in the end.

Both of you were caught in an endless cycle—one of you always picking up where the other left off.

The first time, it was on you.

You had stopped talking when he got into that relationship. You weren’t the type to play the other woman—or at least, that’s what you told yourself. As long as you didn’t know, it wasn’t your fault.

Then the breakup rumors started. The tabloids were full of it, and curiosity got the best of you. A quick check on his Instagram confirmed what you needed—she was gone from his highlights, erased like she had never existed.

That night, you ended up at a club in Bologna. Not just any club—the one you knew he liked. And you made sure he’d notice you. Your dress clung to your body in all the right places, the slits revealing just enough to make his imagination run wild.

And there he was. With his friends, with a couple of forgettable girls—the type who posed for Instagram like it was their full-time job.

But the second your eyes locked, none of them mattered.

You let a smirk play on your lips before turning away, making your way to the bathroom.

And like a man who never learned, of course, he followed.

“What do you want?” he asks, his voice low, rough—like he already knows exactly why you’re here.

You tilt your head, eyes flickering with something dangerous, something playful. “Why do you think I want something?”

Riccardo exhales sharply, his jaw tightening as he takes a step closer. The air between you crackles, thick with unspoken history, with the weight of all the times you’ve danced this same dance before.

“You don’t just show up here for nothing,” he murmurs, gaze dropping briefly to the way your dress hugs your body. His fingers twitch at his sides, like he’s already debating whether to touch you.

You smirk, shifting your weight slightly, letting the movement of your hips say everything your words won’t. “Maybe I just missed you.”

His laugh is dark, humorless. “You don’t miss people. You miss the game.”

You step closer, close enough that his cologne reeks in your nose, close enough that if you wanted to, you could end this teasing right now. But that would be too easy.

“So play with me,” you whisper.

His breath hitches, and for a moment, there’s hesitation—just a flicker. But it vanishes the second you reach for him, your fingers grazing over the fabric of his shirt, feeling the way his heartbeat betrays him.

Riccardo exhales sharply, like he’s trying to hold onto the last shred of self-control he never really had when it came to you. Then, with a low curse, he grabs your wrist and pulls you into the nearest stall, the door slamming shut behind you.

The moment you’re alone, his mouth is on yours—hungry, demanding, like he’s been starving for this. For you. His hands roam over your body, fingers digging into your hips as he presses you against the cool tile wall. The heat between you is suffocating, drowning out the muffled bass of the club outside.

“You knew exactly what you were doing,” he breathes against your lips, his voice thick with something between frustration and need.

You smirk, tilting your head to expose your throat, a silent invitation he doesn’t resist. His lips are on your skin in an instant, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp. “And you knew you’d follow me,” you whisper, nails dragging along the nape of his neck.

His answer comes in the way he moves—rough, desperate, like he’s trying to prove something. Like he’s trying to make you feel every ounce of the tension that’s been simmering between you for far too long.

Clothes are pushed aside, fingers trailing over bare skin, tongues roams in places that shouldn’t touch. It’s reckless, it’s messy, but it’s exactly what you both crave.

And when it’s over, when you’re both catching your breath and dressing yourselves hazily. Riccardo leans in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“This doesn’t change anything,” he murmurs.

You smile, slipping your dress back into place. “It never does.”

Then, without another word, you leave because that’s how this always goes.

The second time, it’s on him.

You’d just finished a double shift, covering for Maria, who was stuck at home with chicken pox—because apparently, 23-year-olds could still get it. Your feet ached, your head was buzzing from the constant hum of the coffee machines, and all you wanted was to go home, shower, and pass out.

But then you saw him.

Riccardo was leaning against his sleek black car, arms crossed over his chest, muscles flexing slightly—proudly—like he knew exactly what he was doing. Like he knew you’d see him and feel that familiar pull, the one neither of you ever talked about.

You tried to hold back a smile. Forty days this time. A new record for Calafiori.

He caught you looking, of course. He always did. His lips twitched in something close to a smirk, but his eyes—his eyes were unreadable, locked onto you with an intensity that made your skin heat despite the cold air.

With a slow exhale, you made your way over, stopping just short of him, crossing your arms to mirror his stance. “Let me guess,” you drawled, tilting your head. “You just happened to be in the area?”

Riccardo let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Not this time.”

That admission sent a sharp thrill down your spine. He wasn’t even pretending this was an accident.

You arched a brow, feigning nonchalance. “So, what? You missed me?”

His gaze dropped to your lips for half a second—quick, almost imperceptible, but enough to make your breath hitch.

“I tried not to,” he said simply.

And that’s when you knew—this wasn’t over. It never would be.

The next thing you knew, you were in his car, your back pressed against the cool leather seat as his hands roamed over you like he was trying to memorize every inch of skin. His lips were hot, insistent against yours, teeth grazing, breath heavy.

You enjoyed riding him, the way he would roughly split your ass cheeks apart and tease his cock between them. Riccardo enjoyed seeing your terrified expression; how your eyes would go wide and give him the nastiest look warning him to not even think slipping it in the wrong entrance.

“Let me” you command him and he releases the grip from your hips, your one leg bends making you stand in a semi squat position. Slowly moving your lower body up and down, making your tight ass bounce on his cock.

And ricchy loved it, you knew exactly how to ride him. Making him throw his head back and let you do the work, show him how a woman should take a cock and dictate it’s movement.

I t isn’t long after you climb off him—drenched in sweat from the cramped, stifling space—that you finally catch your breath. The car’s interior is a goddamn mess, sticky with sweat and reeking of your mixed scent, it shows the no-holds-barred fuck you just had. Your heart’s hammering in your chest as you steal a glance at him. He’s there, half-awake with a cocky, satisfied smirk, you can see he enjoyed it and proof is the lazy tilt of his head.

He slides his hand slowly along your thigh, the rough pressure sending shivers up your spine as he murmurs, “I know you’ll always be here.”

You arch an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips, and fire back, “And I know you’ll always seek me.”

———

Third time, it’s both your fault.

You’re both in relationships now. Riccardo is still with his Instagram model—nothing new there—and you’ve ended up with a basketball player. He may not be on a huge team, but he’s well-known enough on socials.

It’s been a year since your last hookup with Riccardo, ever since he moved to play in Arsenal

You both end up at the same party, brought together by mutual friendship with Antonio, the birthday boy.

It always starts the same way—your eyes meeting the second you walk in. A silent conversation, scanning each other for anything different, anything social media couldn’t reveal.

Then, the shift. His expression turns cold the moment your boyfriend appears behind you, his arms are on you shoulder,murmuring an apology for letting you enter alone—something about struggling to find decent parking.

Your smile fades when you spot her. Riccardo’s girl. She sets her drink down and throws herself into his arms like she’s done it a hundred times before.

This is new. Both of you in relationships at the same time

The whole night, you and Riccardo barely speak.

He doesn’t need to. His eyes do enough.

Every time you glance up, he’s already looking—fixated, unreadable, like he’s trying to see past the months apart, past the people now standing between you.

You hold out for as long as you can, pretending not to notice, pretending his gaze isn’t burning through you. But eventually, you cave.

You: Will you keep staring?

A few seconds pass before your phone vibrates.

Riccardo: I don’t think he can handle you.

You scoff, fingers already moving over the screen.

You: Neither can your new girl handle you.

Silence. But then—

Riccardo: Want to remind me? Or are you scared?

You: In 10 minutes meet me in Antonio’s guest room in the upper floor.

Riccardo doesn’t reply. Instead, he just looks at you, a sly smirk tugging at his lips, like he already knows how this is going to end.

Then, you watch as he pulls out his phone, running a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh, pretending to be upset. He leans in close to his girl, murmuring something with just enough urgency to make it believable. She frowns, concerned, and he kisses her cheek before slipping away, heading upstairs under the excuse of an important call.

You don’t move right away. You stay put, perched on your boyfriend’s lap, his arm lazily draped around your waist as he scrolls through his phone. You rest your head on his shoulder, feigning comfort, then suddenly shift.

“I think my period just came,” you murmur, standing up abruptly.

He looks up, frowning. “Damn, baby. So early?” Then he chuckles. “At least you ain’t pregnant.”

You force a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, lucky me.”

You walk off, heading towards the stairs, keeping your pace slow, casual. No one notices as you slip away.

When you reach the upper floor, Riccardo is already waiting, leaning against the doorframe of an empty room, arms crossed, lips twitching like he’s fighting a grin.

“You know,” Riccardo muses, “he’s not exactly the type of guy you’d go for—let alone have a relationship with.”

You scoff, tilting your head. “Well, Miss Instagram Model number what? Very predictable,” you shoot back, lips curling into a smirk.

His jaw tightens just slightly, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he steps closer, fingers grazing your hip like he’s done it a hundred times before.

“You’re one to talk,” he murmurs, voice low, threatening even.

And then it all wraps up. His mouth crashes against yours, hands gripping, pulling, pressing. There’s no hesitation, no second thoughts—just heat, teeth, and the inevitable pull that always drags you back to him, no matter how much time has passed.

Riccardo smirks, fingers hooking around the thin strap of your red thong, snapping it lightly against your skin. His voice is low, teasing.

“Waited for me?”

You let out a breathy laugh, slipping your hand into his pocket, and sure enough—your fingers brush against the unmistakable foil of a condom. You pull it out, holding it up between your fingers, tilting your head.

“Waited for me, huh?” you muse, throwing his own words back at him.

For a second, he just stares at you, then lets out those breathy laughs of his.

“Fuck it,” he mutters, voice rough, hands already gripping at your hips.

“Guess we both ain’t shit,” you reply.

[ishikaxmehra]

Ishika’s lips curled into a smirk at his comment about people sliding under his radar. “That’s a neat trick,” she said, tilting her head. “But I see you, Gavin.” And she did—beneath all the quiet observation and carefully crafted detachment, she saw the man who didn’t mind letting her in. That was rare. She chuckled when he mentioned her mom. “Oh, she’d adore you at first,” she agreed. “She has a thing for charming men with good manners. But the second she got wind of what you actually do? Yeah, she’d be lighting incense and praying for my common sense.” Ishika shook her head, amused at the thought.

His mention of his mother had her raising an eyebrow. “She’d try to save my soul? Bold of her to assume there’s enough of it left to salvage.” There was an edge of humour in her voice, but something else lurked beneath it—something quieter, something she rarely admitted even to herself. “Gavin, I was raised by a woman who thinks chai is the cure for everything. If your mom is anything like mine, we’d get along just fine.” It wasn’t hard to picture—his mother, all Southern tradition and quiet strength, meeting hers, full of sharp wit and unwavering expectations. An unlikely duo, but maybe not as impossible as it seemed.

The idea of settling down somewhere had never appealed to her. Even now, it wasn’t the place that mattered—it was the company. The thought made her exhale a quiet chuckle. “Your mom’s version of the perfect daughter-in-law sounds like my polar opposite. You think she’d manage to tolerate me past the first course?” Something about the way Gavin spoke of his past, his life before all of this, made her wonder what version of him would have existed if he’d taken a different path. The same way she sometimes wondered about herself. But it was a fleeting thought, drowned out by something much more present—him, here, with her, speaking words she knew neither of them threw around lightly.

When he admitted this was real for him too, Ishika felt something shift. It wasn’t just words—it was a confession. A risk. A truth laid bare between them. Her fingers tightened around his as she held his gaze. “Yeah,” she murmured. “Terrifies me too.” But she didn’t let go. And she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to.

Gavin felt a rush of warmth as their kiss ended, his usual mental calculations momentarily forgotten. Her words about people having them figured out sparked recognition. "People usually slide right under my radar because I want them to," he said. He'd spent years perfecting the art of being overlooked, yet here he was, wanting her to see past all of it. Funny how someone else who lived behind masks could spot when he was wearing one. "Your mom would probably love me until she found out what I actually do for a living," he said, imagining her mother's reaction to his surveillance work. Something about Ishika wanting to travel rather than settle down made him smile. He'd never imagined putting down roots himself - too many complications in his line of work. Yet suddenly the idea didn't seem so impossible. The thought of his strict Baptist mother meeting Ishika made him chuckle. "My mom would absolutely try to save your soul over Sunday pot roast," he said. "But she'd end up adoring you by dessert." His mother had always been drawn to people with backbone, even when she pretended otherwise. He could picture them talking, his mother trying not to smile at Ishika's directness while secretly approving.

"Trust me, my mom's version of the perfect daughter-in-law wears floral dresses and volunteers at Bible camp," he said. His mind wandered to lazy Sundays in Charleston, church bells and sweet tea, a life he'd left behind. There was something freeing about being with someone who'd never expect him to be that person. When she said this was real for her, his chest tightened. Most of his relationships had expiration dates built in from the start - another job requirement. But this felt different. Dangerous. Worth the risk. "This is real for me too," he whispered, not hiding behind a joke for once. His usual filters and defenses seemed pointless with her. "And that terrifies me in the best possible way." The tech expert who'd spent years calculating odds found himself unable to predict where this would go. For once, he didn't care. Something about her made him want to stop planning three steps ahead and just be in the moment with her - surveillance cameras and crime families be damned.

[cfserkgk]

Young Maomao and Lahan siblings AU where there was no misunderstandings between Fengxian and Lakan in the beginning. They are very similar but they would never admit that themselves.

[andi-o-geyser]

despite how you feel about the changes from the stream to the show, if you like or dislike them, i love how inherently hilarious the narrative path tlovm is taking regarding perc’ahlia is because a situationship would literally kill campaign percy and vex like how the internet would kill a small victorian child. they are NOT built for that

[fullmetalswift]

i can't get over Amanda Palmer's complicity and how nonchalantly she admitted to the victims' faces that she knew her husband was a rapist before leaving them alone with him. like i was a fan of Gaiman for years and so of course i knew of her, and i always felt her whole "im a punk rock feminist icon" schtick was annoying and performative but she seemed harmless. i never could've imagined she would be this fucking awful. get the kid out of there bc neither one of them should have custody

[kurooh]

★ MAKE HER TAPOUT ! — JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. featuring gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, ino takuma, fushiguro toji, & kamo choso fucking you till one of you gives out, or not!

warnings: 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, creampies, gentle choking, cunnilingus, facesitting, backshots, overstimulation, jet sex, dirty talk, talking him thru it (ino), brief edging, filming.

xoxo, juno: SHES BACKKK 😝

GOJO SATORU # neither, it’s a competition

“aw, sweetheart,” satoru reaches up to thumb away an involuntary tear from your cheek, “you cryin’?”

“no,” you sniffle, and the shake of your voice betrays you. “o-of course not, satoru.”

mirth sparkles in his diamond blue eyes and he hums contentedly, as if he’s pretending to believe you. but of course he is—right now, he has to.

god, you were dumb enough to challenge him once he’d riled you up, and now you’re paying the price. a persistent burn courses through the muscles of your thighs, the exhaustion more than palpable now that you’ve been bouncing on his dick for so long. a messy puddle of cum has pooled around the base of his cock and sticks to your skin each time you sink down, serving as a constant reminder of how long it’s been.

normally, satoru would laugh in your face, then help you fuck him, but he’s choosing to be quiet because seeing you struggle is even more entertaining.

“you don’t have to lie, baby,” he squeezes your hips, allowing his eyes to trace the curves and slopes of your body, to commit them to his long term memory. “y’know, i love watching you ride me. it’s just . . oh, never mind.”

aggressively, you wipe the sweat from your forehead and glare down at him with dewy eyes. even when you’re crumbling into pieces, you manage to remain angry at him. “say it, satoru.”

an irritating smile splits across his face and he bounces his hips up just as you move down, just to punch a gasp out of your lungs. “‘s just that you were so fast earlier, now it seems like you’re struggling after all that talk.”

his cheeks are scarlet and growing darker as something triumphant basks him in its glow. you push at his chest and grind on him more insistently, even though the stimulation feels like bolts of electricity on your sensitive clit. “f-fine, is that what you want? for me to prove myself?”

“maybe.”

satoru watches smugly as you up the pace of your hips, repeatedly slamming down on his cock until you’re ready to give up. he grabs at your soft tits, and pinches at your perked nipples meanly, enjoying the way your cunt spasms around him.

a few tears race down your cheeks, and you glare weakly at him, not yet ready to admit defeat.

“my girl’s so pretty,” satoru whispers, harsh as he rolls your tender nipples between his fingers, “doesn’t she know when it’s time to give up?”

“shut up,” you groan, lower lip wobbling pathetically. this struggling is a hundred times better than being pressed into the mattress and fucked senselessly. “just be quiet, toru, stop running your mouth.”

“me? running my mouth?” he sounds taken aback, mouth agape as he regards you with a offended expression that settles across his flushed features. “sweetheart, please. look at you—”

not too firmly, you wrap your hands around his throat. just the sight has a new kind of arousal flaring inside your body, one that makes your clit feel incredibly sensitive after a single grind of it into his pelvis.

“you’re talking too much,” you hum, voice a little singsongy now that the tables have been turned, “can’t you just let me have this?”

satoru quirks an eyebrow, still challenging you despite blushing darker. “y-you’ve got some serious nerve,” he pants, voice coming out weaker than he’d like it to, “just fuckin’ wait—”

now it’s your turn to rile him up. “whatever,” you roll your eyes, the tips of your nails lightly digging into his soft skin. “maybe if you shut your mouth, i could let you go.”

“oh, you know that’ll never happen,” satoru scoffs quickly, almost as if he doesn’t want you to let go just yet. “you just focus on showin’ me what you’re made of. if you can.”

GETO SUGURU # you ‘tap’ out

when you’d invited geto to make a guest cameo on your onlyfans, you didn’t expect him to pull out all the stops to show you off . .

you wail pathetically, each and every one of your limbs feeling like jelly now. the consistent smacks of his hips into your ass bounces off the walls and only adds to the cacophony in the room—suguru has practically destroyed your pussy, his thick cock reducing it into a wet mess that squeezes him involuntarily whenever he makes noise.

“shit,” his chest heaves behind you, and he flicks his bangs away from his eyes to squint at your phone, “don’t cha look so pretty with me inside, sweetheart? come on, don’t make me lift you up.”

weakly, with as much strength as you can muster, you raise your head to blearily look at your phone screen. it’s constantly lighting up with new, colorful messages in the stream and rather generous donations—suguru has helped you pull in hundreds more than a solo live would’ve.

-> kchomo: she’s beautiful!

-> tfushoji: pussy made of steel

“s-sugu, ah—‘m still a little sensitive,” you struggle to gasp out, each deliberate plunge of his cock punching the words out of you. before you look into your reflection to confirm your suspicions, you already know he’s got a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“that’s even better,” he coos, smacking your ass and slipping his hands beneath your hips. “i’m sure everyone’s, ngh, enjoying the show . . but god, who wouldn’t, especially with a face ‘n body like that?”

suguru groans as he drags you up, positioning you to take his cock at an impossibly deeper angle. you choke on your own drool, hands slipping off of the floor as he moves you however he pleases.

“p-put me down!” you squeak awkwardly, feeling previous loads of cum race down your inner thighs in creamy rivulets, “what’re you—”

“jus’ giving them one last show before it’s time for me to take a bow,” his pierced tongue darts out to lick the sweat glistening at his cupid’s bow. “think you can take it? again?”

it’s more of a challenge rather than a request.

even though you’re spent and dizzy from the scent of sex as well as the feel of it, you’re ready to push through. after all, how long has it been since you’ve ever been fucked this good?

“bring it on, suguru,” and you don’t regret it for a second, until his nails claw at your skin when he steadies himself inside you, gearing up to go out with a bang.

“that’s my girl,” your eyes roll back into your head when he develops a pace right out of the gates, all too eager for someone who’s covered your back in cum more than a few times. “fuck, she’s so good. takes a fuckin’ dick like it’s nobody’s business.”

“‘m supposed to—oh my god, right there—be a pro..professional.”

a professional pornstar? more like a fancier way of saying you’re a hungry slut—but suguru doesn’t give a damn, not when you’re sucking him deeper and throbbing around him, almost synced up with the frantic pounding of his heart.

“riiight there, huh?” he can’t help but tease, voice taking on a mocking tone that seems to make the room burn a few degrees hotter, “is this where you want me, sweetheart? all up in this pretty lil tummy?”

oh, he even splays his fingers across your stomach and digs his heel into the soft spot above your pelvis, a move he’d familiarized himself with after combing through your account. for lack of a well formed verbal response, you nod your head, lips parting around breathless moans and pleas. “fuck yes, sugu. i need it, i need more.”

wispy black hairs cling to his forehead, held in place by sweat instead of their usual tight bun. since he’d stepped into your room and greeted your audience, suguru had become quite disheveled, and the thought of complaining never crossed his mind. no, he’d been too lost in you, his longtime porn crush whose page he checked almost daily—he feels his eyes squeeze shut when you cry out his name so loudly your throat will be sore tomorrow.

“oh god, suguru,” you’re entirely limp in his grasp and powerless to the wet squelches of your cunt as he rearranges your insides, “i think i’m gonna fuckin’ cum soon, ‘m so close.”

-> satojo: HELL YES

-> brattybunnny: the way he holds her >>

-> juiceboxbussy: im crying they’re so hot

ecstasy shoots through your veins like electricity, and suguru’s ability to hold back crumbles into nothing when you start to throw your ass back onto him. it’s something that derails the pace he’s set and the plans he had, but you deserve to be spoiled. honestly, after this live, you’ll definitely be inviting him on more often.

like a boat’s propellers, your feet kick out into the air and your toes curl as the tsunami wave of it all starts to crash over you. “i’m—sugu, ‘m gonna fucking cum!”

“all over my cock, baby,” suguru groans, too lost in your pussy to feel the beads of sweat racing down his temples or the burn of exhaustion settling into his muscles, “let—let me feel it.”

so you do, abruptly creaming all over his cock with an obscene whine that tears out of your throat and blesses the ears of every member of the audience. he’s finally able to let go as you’re coming down, pulsing cunt milking him of every drop he can possibly offer.

suguru nearly collapses on top of you once his empty balls clench, but you’re already struggling to hold yourself up without his help. the donations are much more luxurious now that the audience can get better views of your blissed out face and his matching reddened expression.

“let’s start saying goodbye,” he suggests, wincing as he pulls out of you. the air is hot, but it feels like the arctic outside of you—well, at least he can watch the deluge of cum spill out from between your thighs. you’ll be leaking for hours, and some kind of nasty pride swells in his chest at the thought of it. “honey, c’mon. gotta get cleaned up.”

-> satojo donated $150

-> thukuna donated $200 and said: js busted a nut

-> brattybunnny: i know that dick was good asf

-> juiceboxbussy: girl she’s knocked out 😭

NANAMI KENTO # you tap out

“ken,” you gasp just as the thud of a loaded suitcase resonates through the entire jet. the flight crew’s busy loading up what’s supposed to be an empty corporate jet, while kento’s associates busy themselves with odd tasks he’s doled out to them. “but the seats—”

“can be replaced,” he huffs irritably, not liking the fact that you’re busying yourself with pointless worrying over the seats. “sit down, honey.”

“i know that,” nervously, you glance toward the front of the jet, scanning your surroundings to make sure nobody’s coming in. “i, um, don’t want to make a mess before everyone comes in. i mean, what if you get fired because of it?”

as you ramble, you’re unconsciously pulling away from your seat on his face. kento’s gold wedding band catches the light of the sun as he immediately grabs your thighs, yanking you back where he wants you. his patience is wearing thin and if you don’t sit on his face right now, god help him—he’ll start thinking about devouring you in front of his co-workers.

“ah! kento, i don’t think this is a—” you’re powerless now; with his strong arms locked around your legs, there’s no way you can escape. it’s so risky, so dangerous—but the fear quickly boils into arousal that pools like magma in your belly.

happily suffocating beneath you, kento can’t help but smile when he starts to slurp at your messy cunt. it’s obscene, the noises he makes—smacking his lips like he just can’t get enough, grunting as that familiar sweetness settles on his tongue.

your breath hitches in your throat. “k-kennn, baby, you feel so good—but, oh, we don’t have a lot of time.”

for one painful moment, he lifts you up and stares at you with nothing but hunger in his eyes. “remind me about that one more time,” low and menacing, the sound of his voice makes your pussy squeeze in anticipation. “let me enjoy my meal in peace, honey.”

with that, kento firmly sits you on his face once more, and resumes his impatient lapping. his tongue is both soft and rough, forcing a stream of uncontrollable moans out of you. his nose presses into your clit and makes every sensation hit you harder, leaving you a hot mess atop his face.

“move those hips for me,” he lets out a muffled groan, and his eyes roll back once he feels you comply. desperate as ever, you start to rock your hips into him at an unsteady pace—the shaking and trembling of your body throws you off course.

“ngh, like this?” kento’s ears seem to perk once he detects that current of hesitancy in your voice. it’s so cute, the way you’re seeking his praise; his cock twitches in his pants, buried under layers of fabric.

“just like that, angel,” he gasps for breath before going back in—this time, kento starts to sloppily make out with your pussy. his tongue pushes inside and flicks around, experimentally going deeper while he kisses at your folds.

“oh my god,” the words are a euphoric exclamation, the kind that comes before an earth shattering orgasm—but then it suddenly switches into panic. “oh my god, kento! y-you’ve gotta stop now, your co-workers, they’re—fuck, they just got here!”

kento’s never been one to allow himself to be rushed. your orgasm, you falling apart on his face—it is much more important than his damn co-workers. he’s made you cum fast before and he can do it again. despite your thrashing, he holds you down against him and amps everything up until you start to sob out his name, choking on each syllable.

“they’re gonna get on the plane,” you sniffle, finally accepting your fate. the leather seats will be soaking wet by the time everyone boards, but there’s nothing else you can do but cum. “ken, ‘m really getting close, ngh.”

you nearly lock eyes with one of his coworkers when all your muscles pull taut and bliss bursts out like fireworks in your body. oh, and out of it too—before you can register what’s going on, cum gushes from your pussy and squirts like rain all over his face. of course, kento drinks in every drop, careful not to waste even one.

your jaw’s hanging open as he licks you straight through your high, greedy as ever so he can purposefully make you squeal. kento’s grip on you loosens and he smirks when you scramble off of him, squeezing your thighs together as your body heaves for breath.

“oh, look at that,” he cheerfully glances down at the leather seats, “you didn’t get anything wet, sweetheart.” except for him, of course.

then, out the window. “those aren’t my coworkers, angel. they’re marshals to guide the jet,” slowly, he turns toward you, eyeing your sticky thighs—rather, what’s between them. “no need to quit so soon, hm? tell me what you want.”

INO TAKUMA # he ultimately taps out

takuma’s more than lost in your pussy—he’s too far in to pull out even if he tried. it always happens so fast, too; from the moment you put it in he nearly goes cross-eyed and tries to think of anything that could help him not to cum. it’s so difficult, though, especially when you’re purposefully squeezing down on him and using your oh so soft hands to urge him closer.

he’s done for.

“takuma, are you—ah—are you okay?” before he could realize what was happening, takuma had instinctively begun to jackhammer his hips into yours. “oh my—mmm, you’re fucking me so well.”

“yeah?” he pants out, fingers scrabbling at your ankle to pull you closer, “g-give yourself some credit too, baby, you’re the one taking it like you were made to.”

it’s just how he is, always stuttering back a compliment whenever you talk to him. a breathy chuckle passes through your lips and is immediately followed by a saccharine moan of his name, a sound that echoes in his head and shoots straight to his twitching dick.

“it’s so hard,” he gasps, feeling an inevitable tingle in his nose and behind his eyes, “so hard to keep it together when you’re lookin’ at me like that. shit, babe, you’re gonna kill me.”

each word grows more frantic with every pleased moan that leaves your lips, and takuma’s gotta force himself to focus on something else. he’d been taught to cum with or after you, a rule ingrained into him that even applies when he’s jerking off.

the tinkling of your anklet near his ear serves as the perfect distraction, until it suddenly reminds him of the sexy position he’s fucking you in. with one leg over his shoulder and the other kicking on the bed, takuma’s cock is able to push deep, into spots you can’t even reach with your fingers.

your chest rises and falls rapidly, plump tits jiggling from all the movement, and his face crumples when you shakily press them down. “‘m gonna cum,” you wheeze, arousal burning like fire through your entire body, “you’re suuuch a good boy, takuma, feels so g-good.”

“don’t say that,” takuma’s pleading with you, shaking his head frantically as his cock starts to throb, “don’t, you’re—hah—gonna make me cum too fast.”

“why not at the same time, honey?” your free leg starts to circle around his waist, drawing him in without leaving an opening for him to escape. “c’mon, takuma, ‘m all yours. just f-fill me up.”

this is an offer he can’t refuse, a ball he absolutely cannot drop—the shakes of his head turn into frantic nods as he accepts, scooping you up to pull you just a few inches closer before he falls off the edge. he’s the cutest, trembling above you and babbling out breathless sweet nothings.

you cum hard on his cock, digging your heel into his lower back as you reach your high. it tears through you and leaves you dizzy, shaking like a leaf beneath his strong body. takuma, on the other hand, is so lost in you that he’s tucked his face into your neck and gasps into your skin. everything is inaudible until he lets out a hushed whine, “ngh, mommy.”

“mmm, takuma,” your nails rake down his shoulders, leaving long red stripes he’ll be proud of when he looks into the mirror. “what was that?”

takuma closes his eyes against you and swallows against the shockwaves of bliss as he empties his balls against your cervix. “h-huh, baby?”

FUSHIGURO TOJI # you will tap out

toji’s unstoppable—once you’re on all fours and throwing your ass back on him, don’t expect to be able to walk without being carried for the next two hours.

“oh my god,” you sob out desperately, voice cracking when you try to speak, “t-toji, it’s—ngh, ‘s too much, i can’t—” 

“doll, be for real,” toji snickers, almost out of breath. it’s been so long you can’t even feel your legs anymore, and he presses his large hands onto your squirming hips as if he’s trying to indent his touch into you forever. “you can take it. ya wanna cum, don’t cha?”

weakly, you look over your shoulder just in time to catch the wolfish grin on his face and the gleam of his pearly whites. his dark gaze scours your body hungrily, as if he’s on the hunt for something plump to sink his teeth into. sweat glistens on his chest, salt settled in the hard lines of muscle that define his body and showcase his strength. “if ya hadn’t been so fuckin’ impatient, i’d have made you cum earlier. but noooo, jus’ wanted to be all dumb, huh?”

“‘m sorry,” a scream nearly tears from your throat after another agonizing thrust of his powerful hips—his tip hits the soft, cushy spot deep inside of your cunt that always has you seeing stars. “toji! i didn’t mean to be a—fuck—a brat, i only wanted—”

“blah blah blah,” he groans, targeting your sweet spot with sharp, deliberate thrusts that make your eyes roll back into your skull. “jus’ shut up, baby. keep talkin’ and i’ll leave ya high ‘n dry.”

it sounds horrible—horrible enough for you to snap your mouth shut and just focus on taking his cock even though your hips occasionally jerk to the side. toji’s dick is huge, long and thick and unbelievably easy to go dumb on. your fingers twitch in the sheets, aching to scratch the lustful itch that torments your swollen clit; but toji won’t let you, not until he wants you to cum.

a long cry of frustration is released into the bed, and the corners of his lips quirk up in amusement. “aw, is it gettin’ to be too much for ya?” he croons, landing a few stinging smacks on your sore ass, “hope you’re not tapping out before i let ya cum, doll.”

“i said i was sorry,” bitterly, the words rush out. “w-why can’t i fucking cum, toji?”

a low wolf whistle trills out into the air. “because you like edging, nasty girl. did i fuck ya dumb enough for you to forget that ya asked me to do this shit to you, huh?”

that’s right. you had asked him to starve you of the euphoria briefly, but now it’s well past the limit. yes, fushiguro toji was no stranger to pushing limits—transcending physical thresholds to build his body into your favorite temple to worship—so naturally, he’s started to train you to do the same.

“that’s not fair,” you whine, feeling the tears building in your eyes, “haa, i’m so close.”

“don’t you dare,” toji hisses, wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling you back easily. “you can wait one more minute.”

he’s cruel, going so far as to rub your clit with his rough fingers to make you waver as you wait for the tortuous minute to pass. heat burns across every inch of your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake—it’s impossible not to start trembling, teeth chattering as you try to fight off the unescapable high that only seems to move faster toward you. 

“please,” you’re arching all over, nearly collapsing onto your stomach, but he’s got you right where he wants you. “h-hurry up, toji, i can’t hold it anymore—shit!”

“three fuckin’ seconds,” he grunts, the clapping of skin against skin growing louder as the seconds fly by. “‘kay, princess. go ahead and cum alllll over this dick f’me.”

you fall apart on his cock before he can even finish his sentence, cunt clenching hard enough to push him out as you fall forward onto the mattress. the smallest amount of cum squirts from your pussy, and that’s when he realizes he’s not quite done with you yet. toji licks his lips as he watches you writhe, settling onto his stomach to torture you all the more. 

“toji!” you can’t help but squeal when he grabs hold of your hips and licks at your overly sensitive clit, his dark eyes rolling back when he feels your pussy twitching against his tongue. “ugh, wait, ‘m not ready for—”

“ya wanted to cum so bad, didn’t ya? so lay back for me, doll.”

KAMO CHOSO # can’t stop, won’t stop

“hah, ‘m sorry,” choso borderline sobs when he delivers another sloppy, trembling thrust deep into your cunt. you’re folded up and blurry beneath him, all because he can’t seem to control the onslaught of crystalline tears that pool in his eyes. “baby, it’s—you just feel so g-gooddd.”

rampant apologies run out from his mouth, but they never quite land, always fading into nothing by the time he finishes the sentence. it’s not like he means a single one, especially when he can’t stop rutting his hips into yours, chasing both of your highs.

“don’t—mmm, fuck,” you curse when the tip of choso’s cock kisses your cervix, sending a brief sting of both pain and pleasure through your nerves, “don’t worry about it, cho, ‘s okay.”

tears race down his pink cheeks as more build in his eyes, despite his frantic attempts to blink them away. “i jus’ can’t stop, you—you feel too fucking good.”

a wave of heat crashes through him when he sees your eyes roll back, legs squeezing around his slim waist in order to keep him inside you. you’re as eager for his cum as he is to give it to you, along with a final orgasm of your own. his cock may be purple with overstimulation by now, but how could that possibly matter when you’re on the brink of bursting at the seams all over him?

choso chokes on a moan and fucks you harder, ignoring the annoying beads of sweat that roll down his temples and paste his hair down to his skin. even in the middle of winter, just the two of you are able to heat the house up as easily as a furnace could.

“oh my—fuck,” your voice breaks when you try to speak, looking deliciously dazed when your bleary eyes finally focus on his own, “y-you’re gonna make me cum again, cho, if you keep that pace—”

“fuckin’ give it to me,” choso begs, raspy voice edged with the intensity of ecstasy roaring through him, “jus’ one more time, just one more, we can—we can cum together, baby.”

he’s hiccuping over his words and losing control faster now that your hand’s tangled in his hair and pulling the way he likes. it stings, but he’d be out of his right mind if he asked you to stop—so instead, “harder, please.. ugh, just like that.”

“you’re such a freak,” you pant out, although you sound more than pleased to yank on his hair, “don’t tell me you’ll cum just from this?”

he swallows a lump in his throat and presses a hand to your lower belly, feeling around for himself, and soon enough, he’s able to feel the distinct swell of his cock inside of you.

“only if you cum all over me,” choso’s already delirious, mind full of thoughts of another orgasm even after this one. with you, he’s learned to control his refractory period, shortening it down to a mere two minutes that he tends to spend between your thighs. “please, you have to let me feel you, baby, it’s the only way—!”

“yeah? oh, are you gonna f-fill me up again?” heat floods your cheeks as your voice becomes more breathy, growing weak now that you’re hurtling toward your own high. “oh my god, ‘s like you’re trying to knock me up.”

something wild flashes across his face and takes place as a flickering movie behind his eyes. he has to pause, momentarily caught up in the idea of getting you pregnant. there’s something about the idea of your swollen belly and babies that really ignites a flame in the half curse—perhaps it’s all the more attractive because there’s a good chance he’s infertile.

“oh, fuck,” he sobs desperately, vision blurring with tears and his thoughts, “‘m cumming—ugh, ‘s all yours, angel, ‘m only yours.”

even as choso’s spilling white inside of you, his stuttering hips don’t stop once. now, he’s got a goal and he intends to achieve it, regardless of your cries of sensitivity. “slow down,” you whine, out of breath. “ch-choso, wait a second—it’s too much!”

“it’s not enough,” he grunts, shaking as he bulldozes through his own oversensitivity, “i’m not done, i have to—i need to put a baby in you.”

“i’m sure there’s five, choso, i need to take a second to bre—”

“just one more, i need to make sure. it has to happen, ‘m almost there. hold on for me, angel, please, i just have to make sure.”

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ snuggles for hire

summary: first years try helping you out with your touch-starved problem type of post: short fics (blurbs?) characters: leona, floyd, jade, vil additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

"Really? That's it?" Ace scoffs.

"So, they haven't been hugged in a while. Okay? Neither has Deuce,"

Deuce glares. It's almost menacing. "That's not true, and you know it! I get lots of hugs every time I visit home!"

"I do, too. But that's just the thing, though, ain't it?" Epel says. "They don't have no home to get hugs from."

The huddle of first years goes quiet. Some days, you become such a part of their world, they forget you're really not from it.

"...Okay, point taken," Ace sighs. "But they have Grim! And he only stinks like, half the time!"

"If memory serves, Grim usually sleeps on the floor..." Epel says. "Poor prefect, all lonely. Now even their sleep is suffering 'cause of it!"

Jack rubs the back of his neck. "It must be tough, not having anything to look forward to,"

Another melancholy silence. Finally, Ace stands, hands on his hips.

"Well, let's do something about it, then. There are tons of boys at this school- one of them should be willing to help,"

It's eight in the morning after another disappointing attempt at rest, and now you can't even sleep in. Damn visitors.

You throw open the front door.

"What? What could you possibly- wh- Leona?"

The housewarden smirks. He looks a little too proud of himself for this early in the morning...

"A little wolfie told me you weren't sleeping well. Lucky for you, that's my specialty. Now, are you gonna let me in, or what?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, letting himself in and making himself comfortable on the couch in the foyer.

He pats the spot next to him.

"Listen..." you say. "I don't know what you heard, but I'm fine."

"Don't be proud. I don't pity you, I just... owe you. Now get your butt over here, yeah?"

Leona isn't so scary when he's asleep. He's more like... the world's largest pillow. Of course, you're at risk of being smothered until you crawl into a better position, but once you're on top, he's surprisingly warm and comfortable.

You can tell you're being watched before you hear anything.

And you think you might just know wh-

"Shrimpyyy!"

For two boys so tall, the tweels are awfully quiet. Especially when it comes to "surprising" you in random places. This time: the hall.

Floyd pulls you into a bone-crushing hug while Jade watches from behind, smiling subtly.

When he finally lets you down, you're dizzy. (Though, at this point, you'll take whatever physical touch you can get).

"Shrimpyyy, why didn't you tell us you were lonely? We had to squeeze it outta Spade," Floyd pouts.

"His face makes fascinating expressions when he's afraid," Jade says, merrily.

Before you can answer, Floyd's already got you under his arm (seriously? Where do they find the strength?) and is heading straight towards the hall of mirrors.

You already know there's no getting out of this one...

Floyd is, unsurprisingly, all over, from leaning his whole body weight against you to lying across your lap, to biting your shoulder (in his sleep...?) Oh, and he drools, too.

Jade sits on your other side, one hand holding yours, the other leafing through an almanac from twenty years ago.

You're almost hesitant to admit just how nice it really is.

"And nothing else has worked?" Vil says, throwing open the door to your bedroom with no regard for a "hello" or, "how are you?"

You blink. "...Hello to you, too. May I ask what you're talking about?"

He storms inside, standing over you with his hands on his hips.

"Just that I overheard Epel Felmier asking my vice housewarden if he would be willing to satisfy your need for physical affection. You've been struggling? With sleep? And you didn't think to come to me, first?"

He almost sounds... offended that you didn't.

"...Well... I wasn't making a big deal about it,"

"So, no teas, no vitamins, no pills- nothing has helped?"

You shake your head. He sighs.

"Perhaps it is purely psychological... very well. Get up. I hope you don't toss and turn much, I'm a light sleeper,"

Vil is completely still when he sleeps. No tossing, no turning, no drooling, no snoring. He also insists on sleeping on his back, you, clinging to his side, and a single arm around you. Just as elegant as when he's awake. He'd be a true sleeping beauty if not for the mumbles of nonsense that come from him every few minutes. You swear you can make out your own name, once or twice or three times...

He is warm nonetheless, and his mumbles and idle stroking of his fingers on your waist is enough to satisfy you for a night of good sleep.

[g1rld1ary]

well kept secret - spencer reid x hotch's daughter!reader

wc: 1420

cw: none!

me: back on my criminal minds grind... also im not gonna lie to u guys i just got back from a hosue party and im extremely drunk, so if u see any mistakes don't be afraid to lmk. also if u have any requests for hotch!daughter pls send them thru bc im heavy into reid rn i just adore him <3

next

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Who is that?” JJ asked, pointing subtly over to the figure walking cautiously out of the elevator doors. The figure, of course, being you, nervously trying to find your way around the glitzy BAU offices.

“God knows we needed a new pretty face around here — no offence, ladies,” Morgan laughed, drawing well-humoured insults from the women of the office.

“I for one don’t take any offence, her shoes are so cute!” Garcia gushed from over Morgan’s shoulder, eyes locked on your sleek black heels.

“Oh my god, they look just like the ones in that window we passed on the way to dinner, don’t you remember? Even Hotch said they were nice!” Kate wheeled her way into the conversation on her swivel chair.

It was a slow day around the office, not something that went unappreciated, so each agent was eagerly amenable to conversation.

“Reid, come over here,” Morgan beckoned, “Has she ever been here before?”

“Me?” He spluttered, eyes searching frantically, “Why would you ask me? Hundreds of people come into this building every day, let alone the thousands we see on the street every day, on cases—”

“And you have an eidetic memory kid, are you thinking straight or is the pretty girl messing up Boy Genius?”

Reid would drop dead before admitting that Morgan’s words had any truth to them, but his usually overactive speech pattern was halted by the vision of you entering the office’s glass double doors. His mouth dried out as you looked around, obviously unsure of where you were headed.

“No,” He finally answered, “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

“She looks lost. Kind of scared, even?” JJ was giving her signature maternal look, concern etched into her face and Garcia was up before anyone could tell her it might not have been a good idea.

The gang watched from afar as your expression brightened from worried to delighted as Garcia began to chat with you, eyes gleaming as you pointed down to your heels. Clearly she’d repeated the earlier compliment.

“Hi! I’m Penelope Garcia, technical analyst, and you are gorgeous. I’m in love with your shoes!” The introduction and compliment took you by surprise but you were by no means disappointed, replying with equal giddiness.

“Thank you so much, my Dad bought them for me!” You extended your right leg slightly to show off the heel more holistically, “And I just love your outfit, the glasses are everything.”

Garcia gushed her own appreciation as the two of you became fast friends, so you chanced a request for help.

“I’m looking for SSA Aaron Hotchner’s office? I know it’s one of the big fancy ones but I’m not sure exactly which.”

“Up those stairs and second door! You can’t miss it, the big boss energy radiates as soon as you go near.” You both laughed and you made sure to thank Garcia profusely.

Reid watched as you pointed up to the private offices, evidently searching for a specific office. He wondered who you could be looking for. He didn’t have to wonder for long as Garcia rushed back, talking a million miles an hour as she explained that you were looking for Hotch. That brought more questions than answers, and the BAU were quick to place bets on what you could possibly want from him.

“Well, she’s certainly too young to be his girlfriend,” Morgan laughed, “Unless Hotch gets down more than we thought.”

“Could be a young woman looking for a mentor? She looks about college age, maybe just graduated?” Kate suggested and JJ nodded in agreement, neither even pretending to be working anymore.

Meanwhile, you’d made your way up to Hotch’s office, knocking softly on the oak door.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, eyebrows raising only slightly, an extreme show of emotion for the man.

“Check your watch, Agent Hotchner,” You smiled, unsurprised that he’d gotten totally consumed by his work.

“Damn,” He huffed under his breath, “I’m sorry, should we go now, then? And what did I tell you about calling me that?”

“Sorry, Dad,” You emphasised the title, “And yeah, let’s head. I’m starving.”

Down in the bullpen, even Rossi had been roped into the shenanigans.

“You’re the closest with Hotch, if anyone would know who she is it’s you!” JJ said, the rest of the group agreeing.

“Why don’t you just, I don’t know, ask him?” Rossi shook his head like he was dealing with small children. Sometimes he was convinced he was.

You took Hotch’s offered arm and the two of you left his office, making quiet smalltalk. The office fell eerily quiet as you two emerged from the behind the closed door, and you got the distinct impression that the BAU had all been talking about you.

Obviously Hotch noticed the team very unsuccessfully playing it cool and muttered a curse, signalling to you to head over to them. You supposed you were going to finally get your formal introductions.

“This is Rossi, Derek Morgan, JJ, Kate Cunningham, Penelope Garcia, and Doctor Spencer Reid. Guys, this is my daughter.”

If you thought there was silence before, it was nothing compared to when Hotch dropped that bomb. You could hear a pin drop.

“Um, it’s really nice to meet you all! I’ve heard so many stories about your work.”

“And we’ve never heard anything about you, pretty girl.”

“Morgan,” Hotch warned with hardly any bite as you laughed off Morgan’s playful flirting.

“Derek Morgan you are exactly like I was told. You too, Penelope, my father was not exaggerating about your outfits.”

“I thought you were starving?” Hotch changed the subject to tease you, nudging you to get moving.

“Alright, alright, I get it. You don’t want me taking all your friends,” You grinned, getting moving nonetheless. The BAU laughed, both charmed and confused by you. It wasn’t unbelievable you were Hotch’s daughter — your quiet confidence and posture was the same, but your friendliness and more easily understandable humour set you two apart.

“Bye everyone!” You called over your shoulder as Hotch rushed you out the doors, clearly keen for you to stop making friends with his coworkers.

“She seems nice,” JJ commented, sitting back down in her swivel chair.

“Can we all talk about how Pretty Boy didn’t say a word that whole conversation?” Morgan asked, a hand clamping deviously on Reid’s shoulder.

“Spencer!” Kate laughed, “You don’t have a crush, do you?”

Reid could feel his cheeks heating up of their own accord, his usually genius brain useless to counteract it.

“No!” He blurted out, “I just didn’t want to say something wrong or bore her with facts like I do with you guys.”

“So you do want to impress her?” Garcia teased with a toothy grin as Reid rushed to shake his head no.

“She’s our boss’ daughter, guys. I think all of us should want to impress her, right?”

“I dunno, Reid, I don’t see Morgan or JJ blushing right now,” Rossi chimed in with a laugh before heading back to his office.

You stepped into the elevator with Hotch, chatting happily about your day so far. Your father stuck his hand out to hold the door open with such speed it scared you a little, jumping in your own body. You relaxed when you saw it was just Penelope Garcia, hurrying towards you with a few files in her hands.

“Thank you, sir,” She breathed as the doors closed behind her, “I forgot Rossi wanted these scanned and digitised from the last case!” She punched the button for the third floor. “It was really nice to meet you, by the way. Even if Hotch has kept you a secret all these years.”

“To be totally fair to him, I wouldn’t say he exactly kept me a secret if he only found out I existed a few years ago. It was nice to finally meet you all too, though. I’ve heard so many work stories.”

You bid Garcia goodbye as the doors opened once again. Just as she was almost down the hall she heard your voice whisper, “Why didn’t you tell me doctor Reid was hot and smart?”

Penelope hardly concealed her gasp, delighted at the newfound revelation. This would be fun for her.

next part

[yeyinde]

The 141 finding out you've never had sex.

Just casually drinking, playing cards. A joke causes it to slip out.

body electric: the virgin edition

Gaz, the instigator, mutters something about not having been fucked in ages. this springs up a sudden surge of comradery, because, yeah. neither have they.

Soap's devote Catholicism (i like to imagine) leaves little room for flippant intimacy. he tries to be a good boy. key word, of course, being: tries. but the last serious relationship was years ago. back when he was grunt. he's pent up. abstinence, yeah? he holds it tight in his hand. but the thing about fists is that they're often mistaken for anger. Soap's a realist masquerading as an optimist. he knows whoever falls into his jowls next will be a MacTavish by the time he's through with them. and commitment. well. his comes at a price. a hefty one.

Ghost prefers casual flings where he doesn't have to take any clothes off. unzips his trousers, frees his cock, and then tries to pretend he's a real, flesh and blood, human. to feel something, anything, except a vacuum between hollow bones. but his tastes are peculiar. on the side of unhinged. he hasn't found the perfect body yet satiate himself with.

Price. well. with his bloody hands, he thinks he'd rather not dirty the same people he swears to protect. and divorcing at the age of 30 does that to a man, maybe. his role as a captain (an excuse in retrospect) also keeps him from unleashing his wants. the very same ones that are probably best under lock and key, anyway. it's just for the best, really. something he ought to do because the moment he has another chance to sink his teeth into someone's neck, he'll tear them apart. break them into pieces.

despite bringing it up, Gaz knows the real reason he's single is because he's pushy. he wants. so he takes. and then takes some more. more. more. until his gullet is full of the person he's obsessed with. carrying them around in his breast pocket everywhere he goes. the perfect mate. the one he can shower with unfettered affection. a deluge, in all honesty. one with the ideation to drown. biblical floods. trapped beneath him. he likes it more than he should, but. singedom, then, he supposes.

and then you roll the dice. admit, sheepishly, that, technically, you have them all beat. zero is always lesser than five, ten, twenty. but it's this misstep—zero, never—that catches their attention.

suddenly, you're not surrounded by kin but a pack of wolves. all hungry in their own ways, all starving. it just makes sense to quench their hunger with you, doesn't it? friend, ally. pretty little thing. so sweet for them. and perfectly mouldable. putty they shape to their hearts desire. the perfect mate.

Soap grips his rosary. the sign of the cross, heavenly Father and Holy Spirit, digging into his palm like the burn of a baptism. what's devotion if not pain? he cuts himself on the gold. offers blood of the sacrament to whoever might be listening, and leans in, sniffing.

Price's knuckles are white. he leans back, hidden in shadows. all you can see is spark of burning orange from his cigar as he takes mouthful after mouthful of smoke, contemplating. assessing.

"that so?" he doesn't even need to look at his Lieutenant to know that the man has gone still. too bad for you, it's not from shock.

Ghost barely holds himself back. keeps tight in his seat. fists clenching. unclenching. he has a good enough read on the people around him to see the unfiltered desire ripping across their face. scorching. but to bite, with his mouthful of jagged, seraded teeth; ones meant to rip, break, tear, would ruin you. permanently. unequivocally. and—

"wanna give it a go?" all eyes turn to Gaz, electric in his seat. eyes smouldering umbre. "i mean, you trust us the most, don't you?" us. it's stunning, he thinks, the way Gaz can weave tapestry in the air like this with just his words. one tangled like shibari binds. "and we care for you a lot. we'll be gentle. it's up to you, of course, but—"

Soap's bloody hand disappears under the table. you gasp. "yer askin' fer it, ain't ye? beggin' so pretty fer it."

"n-no, i—"

"mind your manners." Price. his voice is chiselled into char, authoritative; low. a lulling command spoken in a breath of smoke. "and don't lie, love. or i'll have to take you over my knee."

the tension is thick. Soap's arm moves, slow. deliberate. Ghost has clench his jaw to avoid bearing his teeth. snarling.

Gaz cuts it with a knife. hews compliance into your skin with a fine needle point. "it's okay. we'll take such good care'a you. make you feel so good."

your submission is a heavy thing. oppressive. the shallow dip of your chin, the blistering heat simmering under your flesh, burning right, is the prettiest fuckin' thing he's ever seen. he does clench his jaw this time. tight, tight. tight

until something pops.

"okay." you yield. head bowed. beautifully submissive.

when he looks around, catches the predatory crackle in the air. his hackles raise. immediate. instinctual. and ah, right.

it's easy to forget he's surrounded by a wild pack of stray dogs. starving ones, too.

[moonlightwritingf1]

Lando's Obsession | LN4

⊹₊ ˚‧₊୨୧₊‧ ˚ ₊⊹ summary ━━━━━━━ Lando has an obsession for Y/N's boobs

⊹₊ ˚‧₊୨୧₊‧ ˚ ₊⊹ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

⊹₊ ˚‧₊୨୧₊‧ ˚ ₊⊹ word count ━━━━━━━ 3k

⊹₊ ˚‧₊୨୧₊‧ ˚ ₊⊹ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

Based on this request.

Lando froze for a moment, his cheeks flushing a deep red. He hadn’t expected that. She had always been so reserved, so careful with her words. But tonight? Tonight, she was different. Bolder. And it was driving him wild.

“I wasn’t—” he started, trying to play it cool, but the grin tugging at the corners of his lips gave him away. “Okay, fine. Maybe I was. But can you blame me? That dress is… distracting.”

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, exaggerating the way the fabric clung to her curves. “Distracting, huh? You’re lucky I didn’t call you out earlier. Every time you thought I wasn’t looking, there you were, sneaking glances like some lovestruck teenager.”

Lando took a step closer, his confidence returning in full force. “If I remember correctly, you were the one smirking every time you caught me. Almost like you wanted me to look.”

Her breath hitched as he closed the distance between them. The air between them crackled with tension, the kind that made her skin tingle and her heart race. She could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the night air.

“Maybe I did,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes flicked down to his lips, then back up to meet his gaze. “Or maybe I just wanted to see how far you’d go.”

Lando’s gaze darkened, and he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. His touch was feather-light, but it sent shivers down her spine. “Careful, love. You might regret teasing me like that.”

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Or maybe I won’t.”

---

The night had started like any other date they’d been on—except it wasn’t like any other date. This was their fourth date, and the tension between them had been building steadily since the first. What had begun as shy smiles and casual conversations had morphed into something far more intense. Something neither of them could ignore anymore.

When Lando had texted her earlier that day—“Be ready by 7. Wear something stunning”—Y/N had felt a thrill run through her. She knew exactly what she was going to wear. A black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, with a neckline low enough to make Lando’s jaw drop. She hadn’t planned to be this bold, but the sexual tension between them had become too much to resist.

As soon as he’d picked her up, Lando’s eyes had lingered on her chest a fraction too long. She’d noticed—of course she had—but she’d said nothing, only enjoyed the way his gaze kept drifting back to her throughout the evening.

They’d gone to a small, intimate restaurant in Soho, the kind of place where the lighting was dim and the music was soft enough to encourage whispered conversations. Lando had been charming as ever, making her laugh and hanging on her every word. But every so often, his eyes would drop to her cleavage, and she’d catch him mid-glance, her smirk growing wider each time.

After dinner, they’d walked along the Thames, the city lights reflecting on the water. The conversation had flowed easily, but beneath the surface, there was an undercurrent of something else. Something electric. Every brush of his hand against hers, every lingering glance, fueled the fire burning between them.

Now, standing outside her apartment, that fire was threatening to consume them both.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” Lando murmured, his voice low and rough. His hand slid down to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “And if I’m being honest, I don’t think I want to stop.”

Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “What if I don’t want you to stop?”

His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, he leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from hers. “Then tell me to leave,” he whispered. “Because if I stay, I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself.”

Y/N’s hands found their way to his chest, her fingers gripping the front of his shirt. “Who says I want you to control yourself?”

That was all the encouragement he needed.

In one swift motion, Lando pressed her against the door, his lips crashing onto hers with a hunger that startled them both. The kiss was messy, desperate, filled with all the pent-up longing they’d been holding back for weeks. Y/N gasped into his mouth, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair as she kissed him back with equal fervor.

He groaned, his body pinning hers against the door as his hands explored every inch of her he could reach. One hand slid down to grip her thigh, hiking her leg up around his hip. The other found the zipper of her dress, pulling it down slowly, teasingly, as if giving her one last chance to change her mind.

But Y/N didn’t want to change her mind. She wanted this. She wanted him.

She broke the kiss long enough to whisper, “Inside. Now.”

Lando didn’t need to be told twice.

Lando’s lips crashed back onto Y/N’s as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The hallway of her apartment blurred as he carried her toward the bedroom, their kisses hot and desperate, each one deeper than the last. She could feel the hardness of his body pressed against hers, the way his hands gripped her thighs possessively, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go even for a second.

Her dress had already been halfway unzipped, and as they crossed the threshold of her bedroom, Lando slid it off her shoulders in one smooth motion. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her standing in nothing but her lace bra and matching panties. His breath hitched as he took her in, his eyes darkening with desire.

“Christ, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down her spine. He stepped closer, his fingers trailing up her sides, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “I’ve been thinking about this all night.”

Y/N’s heart raced as she tilted her head back, meeting his gaze. There was something electric in the air between them, a tension that had been building since their first date—no, since the moment they met. It was finally unraveling, and she felt both exhilarated and terrified by how much she wanted him.

“Prove it,” she challenged, her voice trembling slightly despite her bold words. Her chest rose and fell with her quickened breaths, her skin already tingling with anticipation.

Lando’s lips curved into that cheeky grin she loved so much, the one that always made her weak in the knees. “Oh, I plan to,” he said, his tone dripping with promise. Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them, his mouth claiming hers in a searing kiss that left no room for doubt.

His hands moved to her bra, deftly unhooking it and letting it fall to the floor. Y/N gasped as cool air brushed against her bare skin, but the sensation was quickly replaced by the warmth of Lando’s hands cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples until they hardened under his touch.

“Fuck,” he whispered, pulling back just enough to look at her. His eyes were practically black with need as he leaned down, capturing one nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked over the sensitive peak, and Y/N moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair to hold him closer.

He alternated between her breasts, teasing and tasting, each lick and suck sending waves of pleasure through her. His free hand roamed lower, sliding over her hip and down to the curve of her thigh before slipping beneath the edge of her panties.

“Lando,” she breathed, her voice ragged as his fingers found her core, already slick with desire. “Please…”

“Tell me what you want,” he urged, his lips still pressed against her skin, his breath hot against her collarbone.

She hesitated for only a moment before whispering, “You. All of you.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. In one swift motion, he lifted her again, carrying her to the bed and laying her down gently. He stood at the edge of the mattress, his eyes raking over her body as he began to undress. His shirt came off first, revealing the defined muscles of his chest and abs, and Y/N couldn’t help but reach out to trace the lines of his torso with her fingers.

“So bloody impatient,” he teased, catching her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm before releasing it. The rest of his clothes followed, and then he was climbing onto the bed, settling himself between her legs.

The weight of him above her, the heat of his body against hers, made her head spin. She reached up to cup his face, pulling him into another kiss as his hips pressed against hers. The feel of him, hard and ready, made her whimper into his mouth, and she arched her back, craving more.

Lando broke the kiss, his lips moving down her neck to her chest once more. “Still think I wasn’t trying hard enough?” he asked, his voice thick with amusement and desire as his tongue circled her nipple.

She laughed breathlessly, her fingers tightening in his hair. “Maybe you’re just getting better at hiding it.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin, and then he was kissing his way down her body, his hands pushing her thighs apart as he settled between them. His eyes locked with hers as he hooked his fingers into her panties, dragging them down her legs and tossing them aside.

“Let’s see how smug you are after this,” he said, his tone playful but laced with an intensity that left her breathless. And then his mouth was on her, his tongue exploring every inch of her with a skill that had her crying out his name within seconds.

Her hands fisted in the sheets as he worked her with relentless precision, his movements slow and deliberate at first, then faster, harder, until she was writhing beneath him, her hips bucking against his face. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, his fingers joined the rhythm, curling inside her and hitting that spot that made her vision blur.

“Lando, I—” she started, but the words disintegrated into a moan as her climax hit, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her. He didn’t stop, not until she was gasping for air, her body trembling with the aftershocks.

When he finally pulled away, he looked up at her with a satisfied smirk, his lips glistening. “Still think I’m not trying hard enough?”

She shook her head, too overwhelmed to form a coherent response. Instead, she reached for him, pulling him up to kiss him deeply, tasting herself on his lips. When they parted, she whispered, “Get up here. Now.”

With a groan, Lando obliged, positioning himself at her entrance. He paused, his eyes searching hers. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she breathed, lifting her hips to meet him. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

And then he was inside her, filling her completely, and all she could do was cling to him as they moved together, their bodies perfectly in sync. Every thrust, every moan, every whispered word of encouragement drove her closer to the edge again, until she was certain she couldn’t possibly feel any more pleasure.

But then Lando shifted his angle, his pace increasing, and suddenly she was falling, tumbling over that edge with him right behind her, his name spilling from her lips like a prayer.

Lando collapsed onto the bed beside her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Y/n lay there, her body still trembling from the intensity of their shared climax. The room was filled with the sound of their ragged breathing, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex.

Lando turned his head to look at her, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but filled with admiration.

Y/n blushed, her heart still racing. She could feel the warmth of his body next to hers, and it made her feel safe, cherished. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, though her voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. He shifted closer, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her against him. Y/n nestled into his side, her head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

For a moment, they just lay there, basking in the afterglow of their passion. The silence between them was comfortable, easy, like they had known each other for years instead of just a few months. Lando’s fingers traced idle patterns on her back, sending little shivers down her spine.

“Hey,” he said after a while, his voice soft but filled with curiosity. “Can I… play with your tits?”

Y/n looked up at him, surprised by the question but also intrigued. There was something about the way he asked it—so casually, yet with a hint of mischief—that made her stomach flutter. She smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You can.”

His eyes lit up, and he shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at her. His free hand moved to her chest, his fingers lightly brushing over her skin. He traced the curve of her breast, his touch gentle but deliberate.

She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of his hands on her. Every touch sent a wave of pleasure through her body, making her skin tingle with anticipation. His fingers circled her nipple, teasing it until it hardened under his touch.

”God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with awe. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her breast before taking her nipple into his mouth.

Y/n gasped, her back arching involuntarily as his tongue flicked over her sensitive flesh. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to her core. She tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him close as he continued to tease her.

Lando alternated between soft kisses and gentle sucks, his hands roaming over her body, exploring every inch of her. He seemed determined to memorize her, to learn what made her tick, what made her moan.

“Lando,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “That feels… amazing.”

He pulled away slightly, looking up at her with a smirk. “Good,” he said, his voice teasing. “Because I’m not done yet.”

He moved to her other breast, repeating the same slow, sensual torture. Each flick of his tongue, each gentle nip of his teeth, sent her spiraling further into a haze of pleasure. She could feel herself growing wet again, her body responding to his touch like it was second nature.

As he continued to play with her breasts, his other hand drifted lower, sliding between her thighs. She gasped as his fingers found her slick folds, his touch light but insistent. He teased her clit, circling it slowly, drawing out every bit of pleasure he could.

“You’re so responsive,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “I love how much you enjoy this.”

She moaned, her hips bucking against his hand. “Lando, please,” she begged, her voice shaky. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. His fingers continued to move, his pace increasing as he felt her body tighten around him. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, her entire being focused on the sensations he was creating within her.

And then, just as she thought she couldn’t take anymore, she felt it—the sudden tightening in her abdomen, the rush of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm her. She cried out, her body convulsing as she came hard, her nails digging into his shoulders.

“That’s it, baby,” he coaxed, his voice rough with desire. “Let go.”

When the waves of pleasure finally subsided, she collapsed back onto the bed, completely spent. Lando pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she caught her breath. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his fingers still lightly stroking her skin.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his concern evident.

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “More than okay,” she replied, her voice still shaky. “That was… incredible.”

He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Good. Because I plan on doing that a lot more often.”

She laughed, the sound light and carefree. “I think I can handle that.”

They lay there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other’s arms, content to just be together. The world outside their bubble seemed far away, irrelevant. In that moment, nothing else mattered—just the two of them, lost in each other.

Eventually, Lando broke the silence, his voice soft but curious. “Do you ever think about… what this could be? Us, I mean.”

Y/n looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat at the seriousness in his tone. “Sometimes,” she admitted, her voice quiet. “But it scares me. I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

He reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “You won’t ruin anything,” he said firmly. “If anything, I think we’re just getting started.”

She searched his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity there. It was overwhelming, the depth of emotion she saw in him. But it also gave her hope, a tiny spark of belief that maybe, just maybe, she could let herself fall for him.

“Maybe you’re right,” she whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Maybe we are.”

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 19/10/2024 Franco Colapinto - Panty Kink

Plot: Franco is absolutely obsessed with any and all of your underwear…

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, panty sniffing, panty licking, panty stealing, anything and all things panties, eating out, dry hump etc

Since you and Franco started dating it was a sweet and unproblematic relationship. But you couldn’t help but notice some … stranger things the longer you guys were together.

The first time he’d ever stayed over, he just slept in the bed with you after you guys ate loads of junk food and snacks.

A week after he left when you were doing a load of washing you noticed that some of your underwear, specifically your panties and lace ones at that had gone missing.

“Franco baby?” You asked over the phone when you decided to call him to see if he’d accidentally added them to the rucksack he’d brought his clothes in.

“Hi baby, argh god I miss you” you groans happily into the phone and you can’t help the butterflies that rise in your stomach.

“I miss you too. I was just wondering if you accidentally took any of my underwear with you when you left. I know I stripped off and left some at the edge of my wash basket because it was kind of full, but I can’t find them” you say and you hear a little shuffling as if he had gone to his bag to double check.

Little did you know, he had in fact taken them. Right out your dirty laundry basket before using them as he gave himself a hand job using the lace material against his dick for that added sensation.

But of course he wouldn’t admit that.

“Erm let me check the wash coz they aren’t in my bag” he says and he was just making up time to make it all seem more plausible. He had in fact chucked them in the wash after he’d come all over them and wanted them clean for his next time. However now that you were on to them he’d have to give them back.

“Thank you. They’re the only pair that go with the dress I’m supposed to wear this weekend” you tell him.

“Oh yeah they’re here in the washing machine with my stuff from that night” he says and they were mixed in with his washing, now your panties smell like him.

He couldn’t tell what he preferred, your sent on them from wearing them all day and being a little musky from your natural aroma that was driving him crazy and he couldn’t wait to get his first taste. Or his sent on them, making an item of yours smell so much like him which also made his brain a little haywire.

“Thanks baby, you wanna come over tonight?” You ask hoping that he would considering you felt like you hadn’t seen him in ages.

After that, it was a while before anything else bizarre happened. Until you guys were first having sex, he was obsessed with your panties, he’d dragged them down your legs with his teeth and pocketed them in his jeans before he went down on you like a starved man.

You didn’t think anything off it, if anything you found it kind of hot.

And after that, whenever you guys when to races together he’d always dip his hands into your jeans or skirt, whatever you were wearing and running his fingers up and down the hand of the thongs you were wearing that rested nicely on your curved hips.

It wasn’t until you caught him in the act. It was a race weekend and he’d just been promoted from F2 to F1 in a Williams seat. You were insanely proud of him and took the last few days of your working week to travel to Italy with him when you heard.

You’d gone out for dinner with the other wags, Lily becoming your older sister role model in the paddock. Of course neither you nor Franco were media trained so you had been caught on camera being rather chaotic together, and everyone already seemed to adore you.

However when you come back to the hotel room, earlier than the others who were going out clubbing instead and you didn’t really feel like going you decided to go back.

What you didn’t expect was as you got to the hotel room door to open it to here a sort of whimper. You went in as to you from the outside it sounded like he could have been in pain.

As you walked in you saw a sight you never expected.

It was your boyfriend with your sexy pink underwear wrapped in his hand around his dick that was rubbing up and down his shaft releasing moans from deep in the back of his throat.

“Franco?” You asked shocked he hasn’t heard you open the door. His hand dropped and he looked at you in shock before grabbing a pillow to cover himself up.

“Baby! What are you doing back your early” he gulps out looking at you with wide eyes. Full of lust and need.

“All the girls were going clubbing, I didn’t want to go- are you using my underwear?” You ask looking at him shocked and confused. In seconds he’s up and coming up to you, tears building in his eyes as he puts both his hands on your cheeks.

Worry was all that you could see in his eyes now.

“I-I’m so sorry I should have told you but” and ends up rambling about your panties and his kink for anything to do with the provocative underwear, even if it wasn’t provocative he still loved it.

“Baby baby baby, shush it’s okay” you chuckle not bothered about the fact he was using your stuff to help him get off.

“W-what? You just came back to find me using your stuff to get off. Aren’t you mad?” He asks, sniffing a little bit.

“No, you’re my boyfriend. I think it’s sweet you like my panties. But you really couldn’t wait for me to come back? Or were you too embarrassed to ask for my panties” you ask, and he looks down.

“I-“ he starts but you pull him into a kiss, shushing him immediately.

“How about this. I’m here to help now, and you can do whatever you want with the panties I’m in now?” You grin, hoping he wouldn’t feel as embarrassed and open up to you.

“Thank you mi amor” he says before lifting you up and putting you on the bed. He doesn’t waste anytime hitching your dress up. His head immediately dived in between your legs, his nose hitting your clothed clit as he inhales a breath of you.

“Franco” you moan looking down in confusion to see what he’s doing.

“Smell so good. Could just stay here forever” he groans as he kicked a strip up your panties nudging his nose in a little more making a moan come from you.

“Baby…” you moan, your hand coming down into his hair gripping him in closer. He pulls the panties just to the side. Wanting to keep them there as his tongue dove into your deep and wet cavern. His groan vibrated around you making you gasp and your eyes squint shut at the feeling.

Franco had a thing for eating you out. All of your previous relationships, didn’t really do that but my god Franco wasn’t scared to have his chin dripping with your juices by then end.

His nose hit the perfect spot making your hips buck up as that feeling inside you released right into his awaiting mouth.

“Oh my god, so fucking good” you moan as he pulls your panties back across. They were gray and him seeing that little wet spot now building on them made him sit at the edge of the bed. He kept his boxers on and pulled you off the bed so you were stood in front of me.

“Want you on me” he points to his dick making a tent in his boxers and you immediately know he wants you to ride him with your panties on. Both you being clothed and just having that friction.

You turn yourself around so your facing away from him before you balance against his lowered lap, perfect height for your to run your clothed pussy against his restrained dick.

“Fuck baby, that’s it” he says, his hands on your hips snapping the edging of your panties against your hips making you moan out. You swivel your hips a little quicker making him thrust up into you trying to get as much out of it as he can.

“Oh fuck baby I’m gonna cum, gonna cum” he moans his thrusts becoming wild as his dick as the roughness of both sets of underwear rubbing against him. Before he knows it, his white strings of cum are being forced out of his own gray boxers and staining the back of your own panties as you keep moving to reach your own high, which isn’t too much longer after him.

“Fuck that was so good” you say gripping his thighs as you slow down. You turn round to see him, a fucked out expression on his face.

“This… this is why you tell me your kinks” you laugh at him, before getting up to get cleaning supplies from the bathroom. The last thing he sees is the wet spots on your panties from his own cum and your own sweet release.

While your in the bathroom he hears some movement and russling and before he knows it a gray fabric is launched at him.

In his hands was your damp underwear.

And at the moment seeing you grinning, watching him to see his reaction and he knew at that moment you were the one for him.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[homesick4la]

intimate — hamzahthefantastic

contains: 18+ content mdni!!!!, oral + fingering (fem receiving), inexperienced reader

summary: you spend a random friday night. exploring physical intimacy with your boyfriend.

a/n: cooked this up at 2 am and wanted to post hi

part 2: closer

you and hamzah had been dating for a couple months-

on one random tuesday evening, you and your best friend had decided to go out to your local karaoke bar. during your cover of carly simon’s you’re so vain, your eyes locked with a pair of big brown eyes from across the room. he had curly hair poking out of a camo hat and a silly shirt on. he’s cute, you thought.

the several shots you had taken throughout the night left you feeling brave. you smiled at him and continued to hold eye contact with the stranger throughout the duration of the song- performing as if it were only you two in the room.

a smile spread across his face and he quickly began mouthing the lyrics back to you. mirroring the emotion you poured into each word. and in that moment, even though he was a stranger at the time, you fell completely head over heels for him.

he approached after you finished the song, applauding you on your performance and introducing himself. you two spent the rest of the night talking. not only was he even more attractive up close- he was hilarious. he understood all of your niche internet references and matched your sarcastic jokes. once the karaoke bar begun closing up, he quickly asked if you’d want to coffee in the morning which you replied with an immediate and over-eager “yes.”

since then the two of you were inseparable. he loved taking you on planned out dates but even more than that, he loved doing mundane life tasks with you. cleaning. grocery shopping. helping you take your laundry down to the local laundry mat. he’d do absolutely anything as long as he got to be around you.

so in many ways, your guys’ relationship resembled an old married couple. the way you bantered back and forth. the way you shared your darkest secrets with one another. the way you could simply never get sick of each other’s presence.

the one thing you two had never truly explored was physical intimacy.

you’d made out of course. and there were definitely times you wanted more. but neither of you had ever initiated anything more.

hamzah had never directly asked, but he figured you didn’t have much experience after you told him you had never had a boyfriend. this was why he was so hesitant to pursue anything further than kissing with you. he would never want you to feel pressured in any way so he decided he’d wait for you to initiate that you wanted more.

it was like any other friday night- the two of you making out on hamzah’s couch, neglecting the movie that took thirty minutes to decide on.

a soft moan escapes your mouth and hamzah allows himself to let his hands slide down your waist to your hips. he grips onto them, pulling you closer than you thought possible.

with his hips pressed against you, you feel just how turned on he is. and god, you feel the same.

you hook a leg around his hips, allowing him to press into you even deeper. you push your hips up and the friction is downright intoxicating.

within seconds, the two of you are grinding together, completely clothed. the kisses getting messier and messier. satisfied sounds coming from the both of you.

hamzah’s hands roam your body, unable to stay still. his hands slide under your large t-shirt as he moves from your mouth to your jaw. his fingers begin tracing the lace of your bra as he kisses alongside your neck.

you guys had never gotten this heated before. the thought of what’s to come makes you nervous. he feels you stiffen under him.

“you okay?” he looks up at you worriedly.

“y-yeah i just, never done this before,” you admit.

“s’okay we won’t do anything you don’t want to do,” he moves his hand, rubbing the side of your waist soothingly. “whenever you tell me to stop, i will.”

“i don’t want to stop,” you confess. he nods before placing his lips back on your neck.

“what have you done before?” he asks between kisses.

“nothing. only kissing.”

hamzah learning that you’d done nothing at all had suprised him a bit.

“really?” he looks at you, “no guy has ever tried anything with you before?”

“no. i guess no guy has ever wanted me like that,” you explain. truly, you had never felt sexy or desirable until meeting hamzah. he was constantly reminding you of just how attractive you were.

“shut up.” he grins like he doesn’t believe you before placing a sweet kiss to your lips. “you’re perfect.” he kisses your cheek gently. “s’beautiful,” his lips move to your jaw once again.

“and so fucking sexy.” his low voice vibrates against the skin on your neck. “and i want you like that.”

you feel his fingers play with the edge of your t-shirt. he glances up to you as he starts to pull up the fabric- asking permission. you nod in response.

he runs his hands over your lacy bralette. you arch your back, allowing him to unclip and completely remove your bra, leaving you in a small pair of black lacy boy shorts.

you feel vulnerable- nervous.

but he’s staring at you as if this is the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.

he kisses you. placing one hand on your breast. the other cupping the side of your face, tilting your head back so he can deepen your kiss. his fingers work your nipple before being replaced by his mouth.

then he moves towards your stomach, kissing his way down. you spread you legs automatically, giving him more room to work his way down your torso. the thin fabric of your boy shorts getting wetter and wetter by the second.

he stops right before your boy shorts, hooking his fingers at the band of them.

“this okay?” he asks, his big brown eyes looking up at you.

“yeah, keep going.” you nod and shift your hips closer toward him, feeling needy.

just like that, your lacy shorts are being thrown to the side. hamzah’s hands go to the inside of your thighs, spreading you wider before placing sweet kisses on both inner thighs.

his sweet kisses are replaced by his tongue running up the inside of your thigh. he’s taking his time but god the anticipation is killing you.

you whimper and his tongue is immediately running up and down your folds and then circling your clit slowly. your hands hold onto his dark curls, earning a deep groan from him.

he continues to suck on your clit in a way that makes you feel like your floating. and you simply cannot contain the satisfied moans leaving your throat.

he lifts his mouth up and the loss of contact makes you want to cry until you see his hand moving up your thigh.

the pad of his thumb presses your clit, making slow circles.

“do you ever touch yourself like this?” he asks, his voice confident and curious.

“y-yeah.” you answer, barely able to get words out.

“yeah?” he grins, “what do you think about, baby?”

the sound of his voice makes the knot in your stomach grow stronger.

“this,” you admit, “i- think about you t-touching me like this.”

he slips a finger inside you. a devilish smile on his face.

“i think about you too.” he slides a second finger in. “i’ve thought about this so many times.”

“thought about how wet you’d get for me. how pretty you’d look when i make you come..”

he cuts himself off, his mouth now occupied with completely devouring your core. his two fingers still pumping in and out of you at a pace that makes you see stars.

“want you..to come..all over my fingers.” he says breathlessly.

all you can do is let out a shuddered sigh in response. you’re so close. his fingers increase in pace, perfectly coordinating with his tongue. you tug on his hair, needing to grasp onto something.

“hamzah,” you whimper. “hamzah, i’m going to-“

you don’t even get to finish your sentence before you cry out. pleasure flooding over your entire body in a way it never has. a way much more intense than anything you’d done on your own.

he removes his fingers and brings his hand towards your face.

“open your mouth,” he says, looking up at you. “want you to know how fucking good you taste, pretty girl.”

you taste his fingers in your mouth, sucking them clean before releasing them.

he grins at you before pressing his mouth to yours, kissing you gently.

he pulls away, tracing his fingers up and down one of your arms soothingly.

“feel good?” he questions.

“so good,” you laugh, still catching your breath after your orgasm.

he kisses your temple before pulling you up, positioning you two upright on the couch once again with his arm around your waist.

“so should we restart this movie- because it was actually really good before you started distracting me.”, you tease.

“girl, don’t even.” he responds, pulling you closer towards him and holding up the remote to rewind the movie.

a/n: guys i have never written any sort of smut so sorry if this awful and too long and boring… might delete this after like a day…lol but i will write more if u guys want… tehe… k bye muah

p.s. there is a fly in my room and it’s 3:30 am and i can’t sleep and all i can hear is the goddamn fly buzzing around me

[f1fantasys]

It ends with, how quick can you get it up?

Summary - y/n and lando are exes who meet again, some angst, then a whole lot of smut. ITS FILTHY. MINORS DNI !!

Warnings - angst, swearing, smuttttt, fingering, oral m and f receiving, p in v sex, anal, squirting, blowjobs, pure filth. Magui lol - no hate to her at all. Her character is a negative character.

7.3k words

It was coming up to years since the day that you and Lando had broken up. You were together for almost two years prior - young and in love, naive. But then the realities of both your jobs jumped right in front of you, and you mutually decided to breakup, it being too much to handle.

The breakup wasn't messy. You were both understanding of each other, and you'd decided to remain friends - though you could count the number of interactions you'd had since on one hand. That was the whole point of separating - not enough time to each other.

As hard and weird as it was to admit, the it affected you more than you let on, to anybody. You absolutely adored Lando. Yes you were young, but he'd stolen your heart the second you two met for the first time. You loved him with everything you had in you, and even know going you own ways hurt in the worst ways possible, you knew it was for the best.

During these two years, you struggled everyday, and had to build yourself up each day from what it seems. You still held onto a thread of love for the boy - you don't think you'd ever stop, and so whenever you saw a new picture of him on socials, or when you knew you were to be at the same event, you stayed as far away as possible, because you knew seeing him in person again would crumble all the walls you've built so hard to put up.

Neither of you had deleted pictures together on Instagram, and you still often wore things and precious gifts that Lando had showered you with - he had done the same. The one thing that always made your heart tingle was a certain silver bracelet. It was a gift you had given him after his first podium in F1, and he'd always say it was his favourite because it was a memory of the two things he loved the most - racing, and you.

Of course, you'd tried to move on, meet new people, but you only ever got as far as an hour into a date until you started comparing a guy to Lando. Although they'd be decent looking with a good body, you'd notice how none were close as to how devilishly handsome Lando was, how no one's body could be compared to his slim but stern and toned abs, no one's hair would curl in all the right places, and how no one would give you the smile that melted your heart.

You always told yourself that Lando was the man who was made for you. Everything about him was absolutely perfect. But, it wasn't to be, and that was something you had to keep reminding yourself.

Recently, Lando had been spotted a few times with an actress, Magui. You had known her through your modeling connections. From the time you knew her and had interacted with her on a few occasions, quite a few years ago, you knew she wasn't someone who you could ever be friends with. There was always something about her that made you hold a step back, no disrespect to her.

It was a surprise that Lando chose to be with someone like her - not that you were judging - but you just thought he could do better. But whatever - it was his life and as long as he's happy, that's all that mattered to you, even though a piece of your heart broke everytime you saw them together.

Last week, your agency had told you that you were to attend an event at the Singapore Grand Prix. This wasn't the first time since the break up that you'd be attending a race, but what hitched your breath was when you found out this morning that it was a McLaren event, where the full team would be present.

As much as your heart wanted to, you weren't sure if you were ready to meet Lando. Yes, it had been a long while, but again, you were scared of crumbling down.

But you had to be strong, because you were currently in the elevator to the top floor of the building for the event. Of course, you made sure you looked like a million bucks - not skimpy like a certain someone.

When the door opened, you held your breath and walked through, face lightening up when you immediately spotted a friend of yours that worked at a different agency.

''Y/N'' Lissie squealed, just as excited to see you.

''Fuck I'm so happy you're here'' you said as she hugged you tightly, knowing exactly why you appreciated seeing her here.

She pulled back. ''Think you'll be ok?'' she asked.

''Yeah'' you said, taking a breath, has to happen sooner or later.

The night was actually going well, until the presentation started and you saw none other than Lando walk on the stage, making his presence known for the evening.

You swore you stopped breathing for a second. Here he was, in the flesh, and even though you'd seen countless pictures of him since the last time you were together, he looked ten million times better, devilishly handsome.

The lights shining on his face showed off the perfect contour of his jaw, nose, lips, the way his eyes glistened beautifully, and don't even get me started on his hair. It was overgrown but his curls sat so effortlessly gorgeously on his head. You really couldn't tear your gaze away from him.

And as if not breathing properly wasn't enough, your legs turned jelly when his eyes found yours, staring into your soul, face shocked though a smile spread over it quickly when his brain caught up with who he was looking at. You smile back gently, when you heard the elevator ding from where you were standing, you watched how Lando's eyes left yours and instinctively looked over your shoulder, his smile widening even more so like a small boy seeing candy. You quickly looked back and felt a knot in your stomach.

It was her. She looked beautiful no doubt. Long curled hair, perfect taunt body. You felt Lissie grab your hand and squeeze it.

For some reason, the thought of her being here tonight hadn't crossed your mind.

You don't why the hell you did what you did next, but your eyes drifted over to Lando again, and it almost felt as if your heart broke into a million pieces when he winked at at her - it was something he'd always do to you in a crowd full of people, his way of telling you he loved you.

As the presentation went on, you tried your best to keep your mind and eyes from drifting to him, though when it was his turn to talk you allowed yourself to take him in for a few minutes. Your mind started drifting away to the days you'd wake up snuggled up in bed together, share looking looks, before Lando would ruin you by fucking you senseless.

''Shit'' you thought, that was the last thing that should be on your mind. You needed to focus on something else, but not surprisingly, you struggled to do so.

Once all the formalities were done, the evening went on with lots of food and drinks, dancing, catching up with people. There were a number of people you knew, which was good, and Lissie was stuck to your side through it all.

While you were at the bar waiting for another drink, your body shivered as you felt a presence next to yours.

Magui. ''Hey'' she greeted, leaning in to kiss your cheeks. You reciprocated the gesture.

She knew your history with Lando, hell the two of you were dating when you used to have to work with her before, so to say this was awkward would be an understatement.

''Hey, been a long time'' you pressed, hoping she would just leave already.

''Yeah it has. Works been busy, plus following Lando to a lot of races as well'' she said.

You tried to keep a neutral face, internally screaming for Lissie to come rescue you.

You chatted about random things, until she dropped the elephant in the room.

''So this must be weird, being here, seeing me and Lando together.''

''Uh, I mean, maybe a little, but we've all moved on with our lives. Each to their own'' you said, not believing yourself one bit.

''But still. I mean, do your feelings for someone so handsome just go away?'' she asked.

This time you had to keep a scoff in. Yes, Lando was a handsome man, but that's not all he was. He was passionate, clever, kind, caring, honest, intelligent, selfless, every single good wood in the dictionary. His looks did not define him. And even though you aren't together now, what you had with each other was real. Your love was real. And no one could take that away from you.

''I,-'' you started, but of course you had to get interrupted by the man himself.

''Y/n!'' he called your name out, came jogging over from where he was.

You held a breath as he hugged you, and it took everything in you not to keep him tucked in your arms.

''Lan Lando, hi'' you smiled gently.

''How are you? It's been forever'' he said.

You didn't miss the way Magui's arms slid around his waist as she kissed his cheek. He placed his hands above hers.

You cleared your throat. ''Yeah, um, I'm really good, keeping busy'' you cooed. ''How are you? Congratulations on your first win, by the way, you earned it'' you said.

His first win made you both cry with joy and sadness. When you were together, his first goal was always to get that win under his belt. It's what he worked tirelessly for day in and day out, and ultimately, towards the end of your relationship, it almost seemed that the only way he could do that would be to have zero distractions. At the time, and even now, you never took that as a reason for your break up or a reason to hate him for it. It was what was best back then, and you couldn't go back now. So as happy as you were for him, a part of you was sad that it was something that couldn't be celebrated by you at his side. It was her.

''Thank you, yeah, finally got that done. Next up, championship, hopefully'' he said, smiling year to ear.

The conversation went on for a few more minutes, but you decided you needed to get away from it. Magui was giving you eyes. Eyes that warned you, eyes that basically said back the fuck up, even though it was Lando who was making most of the conversation.

You excused yourself and made your way to the bathroom after failing to find Lissie in the crowd.

You fanned your face and tried to control your breathing to stop the tears that were threatening to spill down your face, as the door opened.

She walked in.

''What the fuck are you playing at?'' she all but shouted at you.

''What?'' you asked in disbelief.

''Seriously, stay the fuck away from him'' he spat before walking out the door.

You were shocked, where was this coming from? You had an innocent conversation with your ex boyfriend and his new girlfriend. What's more to it?

You went back out and found Lissie, told her everything that happened. She had been no where to be found as she was pulled to go do a few photos for her page, but now she was fuming with how it all played out.

You decided to block all of that out of your mind and enjoy the rest of the night, It was all you could do, besides curl up and cry in a corner, and you really weren't in the mood for the latter.

At some point, a few of the crowd had wanted to carry on the party at a nearby club, and so you found yourself at the back of a taxi, waiting for Lissie to come in, and until it was Lando who had taken a seat next to you, beaming at you.

Your breath halted as he closed the door and told the driver the address of the club. (Obviously it was a race weekend, so he wouldn't be drinking, but had to make an appearance)

You were glad it was dark out so Lando hopefully wouldn't be able to see the flush on your cheeks. But fuck, where was his girlfriend in all of this. Did she know he was here with you right now?

''I-'' you started though he cut you off.

''It's actually so good to see you y/n'' he said, softly.

''You too Lando'' you replied, not sure where this conversation was going.

''Even though we left each other as friends, i feel like i have to tell you...'' he started.

You just listened and waiting, not sure what to say back.

''What we had was good, so good. So real... Some of my best moments in life were the ones spent with you'' he almost whispered. ''I wish we could get those days back. Just be together, never have broken up, but just lived on with each other, loved each other forever..''

You let out a breath, more tears threatening to spill out your eyes.

''Lando..fuck. You know i feel the same way. But i don't think it's fair firstly to Magui, that we're talking about...us, like this, and secondly it's not fair to me. Because I've been trying to move on every fucking day since, and hearing you say that breaks down all the words I've built up.

''I just feel like there was too much left undone'' he said softly.

''Lando, stop. I..Where-where's Magui? Why are you here saying all to this to me right now?'' you asked.

''She got pissed that I came to talk to you. Went back to the hotel.''

''So go back to her then.''

Now he took a breath.

''Fuck..we're not even together. We're just hooking up. I mean, she's great, but i just don't see myself with someone like her, y'know?''

You kept quiet for a bit.

''Well that's not what she makes it seem to be. She fucking told me to stay away from you not even an hour ago'' you said, sounding angrier than you intended to.

''What?'' he questioned.

''Yeah'' you said softly. ''Honestly? with the way your fans are treating her, and all that she's said to me tonight, this is something i can't get involved with. She's toxic, and with where i am in my career, i can't be having her drama follow me'' you said.

Suddenly Lando's whole demeanor changed. He was agitated, fuming, metaphoric steam blowing out of his ears.''

He chucked, to himself then looked you. ''It's always gotta be about the other woman, right? Forget everything good we had, blame it on the other woman.''

''Lando what? What are you even talking about? I'm not blaming her for anything, just saying I don't want to be associated with her. And I'm sorry if i do become, I'm not willing to jeopardize myself to look like the bad one.'' you said.

''Honesty? fuck off'' he spat.

The rest of the ride was silent, you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay, and when you finally got to the club, Lando got up and slammed the door with such force it had you jolting in your seat.

You took a minute to compose yourself before telling the uber driver to take you back to your hotel. Your tears were flowing freely, uncontrollably.

The man you loved basically said he wanted to get back with you, and you shut him off because of the woman he's just fucking. And now he was done with you. Fucking fantastic.

Needless to say, you cried yourself to sleep that night. Seeing Lando, thinking back on memories you hadn't allowed yourself to for so long, having her there, Lando telling you things you'd wanted to hear forever though it wasn't so simple to live through them, and eventually ending with Lando basically telling you to fuck off. You were broke, all over again.

You were to attend the race as well, and you did, because you were cooped up in the Ferrari hospitality all day. Your heart clenched when Lando won the race. He deserved it, no doubt. But everything still hurt. Once again, it wasn't you he'd be celebrating with. And whatever good thing about your relationship ended a few nights ago.

Lissie had dragged you to a club to just let loose and forget about all your problems - something you'd kill for right now.

It was nice to have a night out with the other wags and people you knew, though your mind kept drifting back to Lando. He still had a hold on you, and no matter how much you tried to forget him, you just couldn't.

Him being less than 20 meters away from you wasn't helping either. You'd just seen him walk in, with Magui on his arm. The both of them joined at the hip.

He hadn't noticed you yet, though she did. She smirked, and quickly pulled Lando's face in for a heated kiss. You forced yourself to look away, and walked in the other direction.

Much to your mismay, you found yourself within your friends group, and now Lando and Magui included. They were sat directly opposite you. You seriously wanted the ground to swallow you up, rather be anywhere else but here.

It was awkward, sure, because only you, Lando and Lissie knew what went on the other night - unless he told anyone else.

Everyone was chattering and drinking, laughing and dancing, and for the first time tonight, Lando glanced your way.

You breath - hitching as it always does when he looks at you, caught in your throat as you took a sip of your drink, keeping your eyes trained on his, which were lingering at you still.

He was throwing daggers at you, and when Magui jolted him out of his trance, he immediately pulled her closer, practically on to his lap as he started nuzzling her neck.

You quickly busied yourself, trying to make conversation with Charles and Alex though your eyes kept involuntarily wandering back to Lando.

Now he was full on making out with her, tongue and all, as his hands groped at her ass.

Deciding you needed some air, you went to the bar to get another drink, and while waiting, as if the universe was playing tricks on you, the pair of them, landed beside you, Lando's back to you.

Although the club was loud, you could still just about make out what Lando was saying to her.

He was whisper-shouting dirty words into her ear. Telling her how plans to ruin her later. Fuck her into oblivion, kiss every inch of her body, devour her pussy, and salivate over her delicious juices. The most delicious he's ever had.

Forget the universe. It was Lando. Lando himself who was playing you dirty.

When you were together, dirty talk was one thing that you absolutely loved during sex. Lando knew how to do it well, and he'd fuck you for hours while whispering filthy words into your eyes, making you cum again and again until you had none left in you.

You knew he was playing you - trying to get a reaction from you. From what he old you the other night about whatever he had going on her Magui, you knew he would never have shown her a second glance or said things like this. It was all just a act to rile you up.

She, though, was loving it. Giggling in his neck as he showered her with kisses all over, hands roaming each others day, and you wouldn't be surprised if she was putting on her own show - to make it clear to you ''into her'' Lando was.

You grabbed your drink, downed it, as you clenched your thighs together, trying your hardest not to let Lando's words affect you as he knew they would, because what the fuck - you wouldn't stoop so low hearing him say those things to someone else, would you?

A short while later, needing some proper air this time, you made your way outside, using the excuse of needling a cig break to the others.

As soon as you walked out the door, you let out a big breath you didn't realize you holding on to. It felt like a weight lifted over your shoulders, though that chest-tightening feeling returned straight away when you saw Lando walk out behind you and follow you to a secluded area.

''Lan-'' you started but he cut you off, his eyes piercing through yours with something you weren't sure you'd ever seen from him. A mixture of longing yet laced with anger of some sort.

''Out celebrating my win, yeah?'' he said, cockiness oozing out of him.

You scoffed. ''Huh, what are you doing out here? Thought you'd be rushing out to get back to your hotel? Something about fucking your girl and all'' you said, gaining confidence from the few drinks you had.

''Y/n'' he warned, stepping into your space and bring his hand up to cover your mouth.

His touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, like suddenly you were alive again.

''Shh'' he whispered softly. ''Only one person who gets to call themselves 'my girl,' and it ain't her.

Your heart was beating out of your chest. You wanted to be mad at Lando, forget him and move on, but how can you do so when he was looking at you like this, talking to you like this?

''I-'' he cut you off again.

''Don't need to say anything right now, baby, but let's get out of here?'' he said, voice low and hoarse. The nickname sending shivers down your spine.

You bit your lip, not knowing what to do. Your heart was telling you to go with him, though your head was screaming at you not to.

But all thoughts and hesitations were lost when Lando leaned down and kissed your cheek ever so gently, letting his head rest against it.

Instinctively, your hands reached up and cupped his face, pulling it back to look at him again.

''What about her? you asked.

''Already told her to fuck off, she was already throwing herself at someone else'' he said quickly.

''Lando''

''Fuck, please'' he said, licking his lips, while his hands were now wrapped around you and on the small of your back.

''Fuck'' you whispered, your mind racing more and more by the second the more you took into account what was really happening.

Lando so close you could feel his breath on your face, the smell of his musky and expensive cologne, the intensity of his crystal blue eyes staring right through you, his hold on you as if his life depended on it. Fuck, you were screwed.

''Baby'' he whispered, but this time you were quick to react.

You roughly pulled his face in, crashed your lips to his to which he responded immediately. It was rough, desperate, messy, but somewhere at the back of both your minds, there were fireworks going off.

Lando pulled you impossibly closer and his hands ran through your air, pulling at it from the ends as you both fought for dominance over the kiss, tongue battling each other until you gave in and let him slip his through. He explored your mouth like a starved man.

It may have been years since your last kiss, but right now, it felt like you were both home. It felt right, and with the way you knew each others triggers, it felt timeless.

You played with the hair on the back of his neck as his lips left yours, both desperate for air, sloppy smiles playing both your lips, until a voice broke you out of your trans.

''Are you fucking joking me? You're leaving me for this piece of shit?'' said the voice as you both looked to where it was coming from.

Magui.

Lando's hold on you tightened to a point where it was painful.

''Of fuck off'' he said. ''As if your tongue wasn't down that guys throat the minute i ended it with you, what not 10 minutes ago'' he spat.

''Don't turn the subject around. Seriously Lando, fucking going back to leftovers when you can have the finest ass in town?'' she pressed.

''Yeah actually, because the 'finest' ass in town already rotten though MY leftovers are as fresh as day 1'' he threw back.

Your heart clenched at that.

This time she didn't have any answer back, so she muttered something incoherent to herself and walked away.

''Don't listen to anything she said. Ignore her. I'm sorry for the way she spoke to you the other day as well. I'm sorry for how i fucking spoke to you. I was a dickhead and you deserved better'' he said softly, eyes begging for forgiveness.

You didn't say anything back. Instead you pecked his lips a couple of times before pulling him in for a simple hug, pouring all your love for him into it.

''Take me back to the hotel'' you whispered. ''Now.''

Lando smiled to himself, took your hand and called for the valet to bring his car.

The ride back was palpable with tension, no words spoken again, just cheeky glances at each other, eyes dark with lust, as Lando let his hand rest on your thigh, achingly close to where you craved him the most.

Your mind was racing, not paying attention to where he was driving, so when he stopped the car and parked at an area overlooking the sea you were quick to question him.

''Lan?''

He said nothing, but adjusted his seat back, manhandling you and pulling you onto his lap.

You straddled him, your dress already bunched up at your stomach as his hands roamed your body, eyes glued to yours.

''Need you now'' he said breathlessly before leaning up to lock lips again, biting down harshly on your lower lip causing you to whimper.

You started grinding down on him, feeling his cock grow through his jeans as he practically ripped your dress into two pieces, eyes growing big when he saw you weren't wearing a bra.

''Fucking hell. Can't say i haven't missed my babies'' he said, smirking as he rolled your left nipple between his thumb and index fingers, earning a series of dirty moans from you.

''Please, Lan'' you begged. Your cunt, still grinding down and creating a wet patch through your panties and on his jeans, was clenching achingly around nothing.

As he continued to toy with you nipple, his mouth found your other one, wasting no time in biting and sucking on it harshly, making you pull his hair tightly, still begging for more.

''Still taste so good'' he mumbled, snaking his hand down your toned body until he reached your core. He ran his fingers over your clothed pussy, smirking when he realized how wet you were.

''Don't flatter yourself'' you teased when you saw his smirk.

Lando raised his brows, ''didn't say anything babygirl'' before he pushed your lacy panties to the side and finally touched you, sliding his fingers through your juices and quickly finding your clit. He knew your body better than you did.

''Fuck Lando please'' you begged again, the feeling of him on your clit having you more desperate than before.

''Patience love'' he whispered, holding your hips still to stop your movements.

His fingers suddenly pulled away from your cunt, you were about to protest when you saw what he was doing - licking them clean on your juices, before he bought them up to your own lips to take in.

''My favourite fucking taste'' he murmured and you moaned around him.

Finally though, he returned them down there and settled at your entrance His eyes gave you a questioning look and you eagerly nodded, before he thrust two fingers in at once, curling them straight away having you a shuddering mess in his arms.

You bit down on your lip, letting a few guttural moans escape you as Lando sped up his movements of thrusting in and out of you.

''Yes, fuck, so fucking good'' you said through bated breaths, while Lando started edging you on with his own words.

''Baby you're so fucking tight, how the hell are you gonna take my cock, huh? You think you can take it? Being so fuckin tight'' he threw at you.

''Fuck, yes, please'' you said, quickly feeling the warmth start to build up in your stomach.

''Lan I'm close,'' you warned, and this time he added a third finger while his thumb toyed with your clit, causing your orgasm to rip through your body as you came violently all over his fingers.

''Oh my, fuck'' you said, eyes squeezed shut as Lando didn't slow his movements. Instead he added a whole fourth finger, you heard him say something about ''needing to stretch you out before you were ready for his cock''

Within minutes you came again, your warm juices gushing out, making a mess of everything. Again, you were blanked out, just about hearing what Lando was saying again. Something like ''''you're so fucking good for me darling, such a good brat'' until he finally pulled his fingers out, and once again licked them clean as you sat there, eyes hooded, sweat shining on both your faces, and a shy smile on your face, chest heaving.

''Lan'' you said, pecking random parts of his pace.

''Think you're ready for me y/n? Wanna ride me? Then let me take you back to the hotel and take you from behind, yeah?''

His words had you dripping with want, needling more from him. When you dated before, you were young, but your sex life was amazing. You wondered though how it would feel now. Would it feel more fulfilling? Even better than before? You certainly couldn't wait to find out.

You bit your lip as you gently lifted yourself off Lando's lap, just enough o let him unzip and unbutton his jeans, pulling them down, together with his boxers.

You won't lie, seeing his thick girth spring out and stall tall before you had your mouth watering.

''Like what you see?'' he asked, a smirk on his face.

''Fuck off'' you threw.

''I'd rather you fuck me''

'''Gladly'' you said, before taking your place again, cupping him and pumping him a few times. You were internally thanking him for ''stretching'' you out because he was bigger than average, and you weren't sure how he'd have fitted easily.

Lando reached to his pocket and pulled out a condom, ripping the packet open with his teeth as he was about to roll it on though you stopped him.

''Lan we're not 20 anymore, I'm still non birth control, but fuck, i need to feel all of you. Please'' you begged.

His eyes turned even darker, breath hitching as he listened to your words before you grabbed the condom from him and threw it somewhere in the car, then palmed him again.

You slid his dick through your folds, which were clenching uncontrollably as Lando leaned back and shut his eyes, taking in the feeling of having your hands on the place he's dreamed about for almost two years.

''Fuck baby please'' he begged now, impatient to slide into you.

You mimicked his words from earlier. ''Patience baby'' you said, though you were just as desperate as he was.

Lando was not having it today, instead he roughly took a hold of his dick, and pushed you down onto him by your waist.

You gasped at the intrusion, mind foggy at how incredible it felt, but at the same time there was always the unavoidable sting because of just how much Lando stretched you out.

He bottomed out straight away, hips joined together, as you sat still on him, both your faces contorted with pleasure as you allowed your body a few minutes to respond.

After a few seconds though, your braced your hands on Lando's shoulders and began to move, up and down, up and down, riding his pole like your life depended on it.

''Fuck baby, that's it, so fuckin tight around my dick and taking me so well'' Lando cooed as he felt your walls clench around him, making his dick twitch uncontrollably through your movements.

''Fuck Lan, missed this, feels so good, fuck'' you said between breaths.

Both your moans were lewd, filthy, and anyone walking by your car would be able to hear how you were ruining each other, fucking each other hard and fast, rough,but you didn't care. You wanted the whole world to know. You wanted her to know.

''Lan I'm gonna come'' you said, feeling your orgasm approach, not holding back.

''Let it out, fuck y/n, cum all over me, then later cum again when i push my dick through your asshole'' he threw, his words instantly sending you over the edge, releasing your sap all over him.

''Oh my god, yes, uh, i can't you panted, body like jelly in his arms as Lando had to hold you upright, and now fuck himself into you to chase his own high.

You slumped forward on him as he placed his head over your shoulder, bouncing your body up and down his pole until suddenly he was ready for his own release.

''Uhhh, gonna cum y/n, where?'' he asked.

''In me! Please'' you all but shouted, needing distressingly needing to fell his cum inside of you.

Your words sent him into overdrive, and before he knew it, Lando was spraying your insides white with his warm cum, letting out a series of swear words through your ears as he held onto you tightly, spit flying out of his mouth.

''Feels so good'' you whispered, leaning back and cupping his face that was dripping with sweat, cheeks flushed.

Both your movements slowed, riding each other through the high as eventually it halted and you just sat there, Lando softening inside you.

He gave you a sheepish smile, chest heaving, before kissing you gently.

''How are you this fucking amazing?'' he asked. ''you were incredible back then, but now, fuck me, how did i survive this long with you?''

You bit your lip, ''feeling's mutual.''

''Back to the hotel? Let me ruin you again?'' asked, excitement in his voice.

'''Please'' you said, climbing off his dick and settling into your seat again.

Before he could zip himself up again, you leaned over the console and deep-throated him, having Lando jolt in his seat at the contact.

''Fucking hell'' he said as you pulled back, cum and spit running down your chin.

''Wanted to taste...us'' you said, watching the darkness in his eyes return.

The drive back was quick, desperate, his hands wrapped around the steering wheel painfully tight.

You had to wear his jacket, which luckily was oversized and big for you, for the walk up to his room, since he'd torn your dress.

As soon as the door was closed he pounced on you, shoving the jacket off leaving you standing bare in front of him.

Lando was about to kiss you before you pulled back and pouted.

''You're still wearing too many clothes'' you whined.

He chuckled, couldn't hold back his smile as he shed everything over, leaving himself bare you are were.

''Hmm better'' you said as your eyes shamelessly roamed his body, stopping at his dick which was twitching and growing harder by the second.

He cleared his throat. ''Permission to touch?'' he asked, already having cupped your face.

''Always'' you said, before he left your face and ran his hands down to pick you up, hauling you over his shoulder and giving your ass a few smacks.

He threw you on the bed before throwing himself on you, kissing you with an urgency, groping your body while his hands found your cunt, waltzing through your folds.

''Please fuck me?'' you asked innocently.

He smirked. ''Gonna destroy you'' he said lowly, leaning up and wrapping your legs tight around his hips before he pumped himself a few times, already hard as rock.

He lined himself up and pushed in gently, setting a slow, painfully slow pace as you whined and wriggled your body, begging for more.

''Noo Lan please, faster'' you pressed.

But he ignored you, instead bringing his mouth up to your boobs, ravishing them violently as he continued to thrust slowly in and out of you.

You were impatient though, and so you roughly grabbed his face and pulled it away from your boobs.

''Lando, fuck me now, or-'' you started sternly though he cut you off.

''Or?'' he asked teasingly, eyebrows raised.

You blushed, not having an answer. ''Or no sex for two weeks'' you threw.

''Hmm, survived two years, think I'll manage two weeks'' he said softly.

You eyes grew wild with shock. ''Of fuck off'' you said, thinking of what else to come up with but your brain short circuited when suddenly his pace was faster, rougher, harder, fucking his dick deep within you.

You shut your eyes, nails digging into his biceps and surely leaving bruises for tomorrow when you could practically hear him smirking at you.

''You fucking asked for it baby, don't take back your words now'' he said.

You got a burst of energy at his words, your eyes flying open.

''Not complaining, am i?'' you said, sending your own smirk his way.

''Fucking brat'' he mumbled, reaching his thumb down to your clit, pinching at it dramatically which within seconds had your body shaking underneath him, your cum coating him and leaking out of you with each thrust as your mind was blank again, no energy to say anything, just broken breaths as you bit down on his shoulder.

He slowed for a moment, before pulling out. ''Let me do you from the back? he asked.

''Uh huh'' you responded, though your body was jelly so he basically had to pick you up and manhandle you again until you were on your tummy, ass up in the air.

Lando coated two of his fingers in his spit before circling your rim, teasing you with a thrust but not in enough.

''Lando, now'' you threw at him, causing him to giggle.

''Okay baby, no more teasing'' he said, letting his two fingers enter your ass.

You held your breath, bit your lips together as he gave you a few licks as well.

''Gonna take me so well, my love, yeah?'' he asked.

''Yes, please, hurry'' you said, your body responding as if you haven't had multiple orgasms already.

Finally Lando coated his dick with his spit again, before pushing into you, both your moans obscene at the feeling.

He braced his hands on your hips as you held onto the headboard, his pace quickening quickly as he slammed himself in and out of you.

''Fuck, so good, look at you, such a whore for me, my own dirty slut, that's it baby, doing so fucken well for me'' he said between moans through gritted teeth.

''Lando, huh, gonna cum'' you said in a daze, letting him take full control of your body.

''Go on baby'' he pressed, and before he could even finish his sentence your orgasm rippled through you, shaking your body literally uncontrollably with the stimulation.

He slowed his movements, knowing how exhausted you were, though he didn't stop. He was just gentle now, letting you catch your breath as you body calmed down.

Lando pulled out and flipped you over again gently this time, kissing you long and slow as your wrapped your arms around him.

''Think you have one more in you baby?'' he asked. ''For me?''

Who were you to say no? You gently opened your tear-stained eyes and nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist again.

''You've done so well for me today, fuck'' he said, lining up against your cunt again, sliding in once again.

''Hmm, Lan, too much'' you cooed.

''I know love, almost there, you can do it'' he encouraged you.

By now, your brain was blacked out, you were saying things without thinking through, and your next words shook Lando to his core.

''Í love you Lando, missed you so fucking much. Baby, please, please, i fucking beg you, fuck a baby into me''

Lando had no words, no actions as to how to respond to you. He wasn't even fucking into you at a quick pace right now, but his dick thought faster than his brain, and in seconds he was cumming deep within you again, filling you up to the brink as his cock twitched painfully so inside of you.

''Lan?'' you questioned when he stayed silent - apart from his pornographic moans and pants.

''I love you too, so much, and fuck, i want a baby, like right now with you. Fuck y/n, you're it for me'' he whispered, and eventually his brain caught up to what was happening. He also noticed that you hadn't cum the last time, so he quickly pulled out and placed his tongue on your cunt.

You grabbed onto his hair and pulled it, unable to keep your groans in, as he lapped and lapped at your folds, moaning himself when he tasted the mix of both your cum.

You looked down to see his face a mess. Spit, cum, sweat, everything just sticky and dripping. Just the one look at him sent you spiraling over the edge, erratic noises leaving your mouth, though this time you didn't just cum, you squirted all over his face and hair, hands flying to cover your mouth in shock, though all Lando did was smirk and lick everything up, swallow as much as he could.

Eventually he pulled back and leaned down to your lips, letting all the juices drip down from his mouth and into yours.

You seriously didn't know how you were wake right now, but having Lando close like this had given you enough to carry on.

''That was so fucking hot, fuck y/n'' he whispered, leaving wet kisses all over your face.

All you did was hide your face in his chest and hold him tight, get both of your breaths back to a decent rate again, bask in what had just happened.

A short while later, as much as you both just wanted to doze off, your bodies were too slick and sticky to be comfortable.

With not enough energy to shower, Lando got up and gently cleaned you both up with a warm towel, before he jumped into bed beside you sleep-clad body, pulling you to his side.

You were half asleep, though awake enough to say something.

''I love you Lando, please don't leave.''

He kissed your forehead. ''Trust me baby, I'm stuck to you forever. And I'm so fucking sorry for the other night. I love you so much. So so much.''

''Nah, forget that. Just happy to be together now. I'm home'' you said, smiling in your daze.

Suddenly, something piped up and you shot out his arms.

''Lan!''

''Baby what, are you ok?'' he said, shocked at your burst of energy.

You giggled.

He shot his eyebrows and hands up.

''We did...a lot of things tonight..'' you started.

''Yeahh, and? he asked.

''I didn't get to blow you'' you pouted.

''Fuck'' he mumbled, and you didn't miss the way he palmed himself.

You wiggled your eyebrows.

''How quick can you get it up?'' you asked as he pulled you onto his lap.

''You're gonna fucking end me'' he whispered.

But finally, it was you and Lando. Together. Forever.

A.N - i think this is my longest fic. Wasn't sure if I liked where it was going, but pretty happy with how it turned out. The smut is probably my favorite that I've written, so please enjoy and let me know what you think in the comments. Also - absolutely no hate to Magui.

[eufezco]

THE MUSE

Benedict needs to practice female form. Naked female form. And who better to help him than his lifelong friend?

Benedict x fem!reader (smut with plot, friends to lovers) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)

Benedict didn't know how to ask you.

You had been friends for a long time, your families were practically one. Always so united, your mamas took walks every afternoon, gossiping about the ton and your fathers had been friends since childhood. You and Benedict were bound to meet.

You and he grew up together. You were friends with his siblings, you had held sleepovers with his sisters and won cricket matches against his brothers. Lady Violet Bridgerton loved you like a daughter and your mother loved Benedict like a son.

But your friendship with him had always been special.

When you were twelve, you ran away together to camp on the riverbank, just because Benedict wanted to draw the moon reflecting in the water at night. The following year, despite the scolding you received for your river adventure, you and Benedict sneaked onto private land just to pluck a few petals from the summer sunflowers to get him the perfect shade of yellow.

You and Benedict were very close. Of course, there had always been rumors about what kind of relationship you two had and that Lady Whistledown had only added more fuel to the fire writing about you two in her pamphlets. You and him never cared about that, and neither your families but it was true that you two have had to face some uncomfortable conversations with them about it.

That's why Benedict didn't know how to ask you. You had a lot of trust in each other, you had always supported his artistic vocation but perhaps this was too much.

—Oh, thank God you've come. I am in need of a model —. It was the first thing Benedict said to you when you entered his studio. The maid closed the door behind you, leaving you alone with him. Thank goodness the Bridgertons' service was very discreet, if anyone found out that you and him were alone in a room it would cause quite a scandal.

—Good evening to you too, Benedict.

—My apologies. Good evening —. He leaned to kiss your cheek.— I need a model —. He let you know one more time.

—How have you been? Very stressed from what I can tell —. You tried to have a normal conversation with him before you paid attention to what he required.

—Indeed.

You sighed. —Well, what is it? I thought we were going for a walk.

He nodded. —We can go outside later. But I need to get this done by tomorrow and I feel like I'm losing my mind.

—And...?

—I need practice female form.

You slowly nodded. You were aware that Benedict had been recently attending this art academy, you were happy that he was finally able to pursue his passion and you couldn't deny that within the characteristic desperation of the artists, he looked very attractive. Benedict's hair was a mess, his white shirt was half-open, his sleeves were rolled up. He would never have allowed himself be seen in society like that and you were grateful because otherwise he would have all the girls after him.

—And you want me to...?

—Pose for me.

You weren't quite sure how to do it but it seemed easy and fun. All the times he had drawn you, he had done it when you were distracted, reading, having tea with his sisters... The pencil moved effortlessly across the paper when he saw you laughing with Daphne or playing with the cards that Colin had brought back from his trip to Spain. He was already too embarrassed to admit each time he drew you and Anthony teased him by saying that if he didn't propose to you, he would show you his drawings, and Benedict's heart skipped a beat because he knew that his older brother was not known for being a joker.

Benedict still didn't know how he was going to ask you, maybe it was better to just let it out.

—And what shall I do? Just stand here? Like this? —You laughed and made a dramatic pose like the ones you saw in the paintings in the gallery you visited together.

—I need you to ...

Benedict swallowed nervously. He looked down at your dress and then directly into your eyes. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to finish. You also looked at your dress to see if there was something wrong with it.

—Benedict I don't think I understand what you are trying to say—

—I need to practice naked female form.

Benedict immediately noticed your horrified face. He wanted to go back seconds ago when he hadn't even asked but if it wasn't you, who would it be? —I will not draw your face. No one will know it is you. It will be purely professional, I just need a few minutes.

You bit the inside of your cheeks and decided to trust him when he said that it would be for professional purposes only. The unfinished nude sketches that made your cheeks burn when you saw them as you entered his studio showed you that Benedict found no inspiration in the bodies of the academy models. After a nervous swallowing, you nodded and Benedict's face lit up. He hugged you but you didn't have time to hug him back because he quickly went to prepare the canvas.

—Is the door locked? —You asked him as you shed the little jacket that covered your shoulders along with your gloves. Benedict rushed off to lock it and before he returned to his position behind the canvas. You called his name and gulped, your hands failing in their attempts to unzip your own dress. —May I please get some help?

—Oh, yes, of course. My apologies.

Benedict stood behind you, his fingers brushing the skin on your back as he began to slowly unzip it until the dress slid down your body and fell at your feet. Benedict felt like he had to look away, as if in a few seconds you would not be completely exposed to his eyes. He offered you his hand to help you get up on a small pedestal that he had in his studio. Once you got rid of your underwear, you felt vulnerable but not as vulnerable as when Benedict ran his eyes over your body from his position and with the paintbrush already in his hand.

He let out all the air he had in his lungs, he couldn't take his eyes off you. Benedict could not deny that he had imagined it on many occasions, but reality far surpassed his imagination.

—What... What should I do, Benedict? —You hugged yourself.

—Put your arms down and stand like that. You look perfect, darling.

Your cheeks burned after that. You did as he said. His brow was slightly furrowed in concentration as his eyes went from the canvas to you and back to the canvas. Benedict asked you to turn around and he squeezed his eyes tightly after seeing your bare ass. Purely professional, this was purely professional, he had to remind himself.

Benedict grabbed a wooden chair and walked over to you. Your heart skipped a beat once he was so close to your naked body and he felt the exact same. He placed the chair next to you and invited you to sit on it. He nodded slowly when you did, focusing on the new position of your body. Benedict went back behind the canvas and made a few sketches.

He cleared his throat. —Would it be possible if you... Could you spread your legs?

Your cheeks grew hot and you squeezed your thighs together.

The knot you had in your stomach got tighter and you felt your chest rise and fall slowly thanks to your deep breathing. You straightened your back in the chair and you did as Benedict asked. You felt the air of the room caressing you in that warm and wet area and he held his breath, his chest puffing out as your legs slowly opened for him.

—You are beautiful, darling. Do not be ashamed —. Every new inch he discovered of your body made you look more perfect in his eyes. It was as nice to see you as it was to paint you.

Your cheeks grew even hotter but this time it wasn't just your cheeks, your whole body was in flames starting with the area between your legs that was so exposed to his eyes.

—Could we try another position?

You nodded, relieved, you were sure it was painfully obvious the way you had gotten wet and you just hoped he was busy enough to not notice.

He dropped the paintbrush and got up from the stool on which he was sitting. Benedict felt the knot in his stomach grow tighter with each step he took closer to your naked body. You moved in the chair out of nervousness. Benedict leaned slightly over you. —May I? —He asked before touching your leg. His voice made you shiver, he was so close, you felt his hand brush against the skin of your thigh. You nodded and looked up at him while he repositioned your leg. Benedict's eyes meet yours, so helpless, his lifelong friend, was that innocence in your eyes, or was that...?

Lust.

Your hand grabbed the back of Benedict's head and pressed his lips against yours. His eyes widened in surprise but immediately after, his hands went to cup your cheeks as he fell to his knees in front of you. You opened your legs so he could place himself between them and be closer to you. The shameless hands of your friend traveled down your neck until they reached your breasts. You moaned against his mouth once he gave them a gentle squeeze, the soft palm of his hand brushing against your nipples.

Benedict left a trail of soft kisses from your cheeks to your collarbones and your breasts. He took one in his mouth as his hand played with the other, his tongue moving in circles around your nipple and sucking on it at the same time. Your breathing quickened and your lips parted to let out soft moans when Benedict's teeth brushed your sensitive nipple.

He let go with a pop sound and watched you gasp for air. Benedict placed his hands on the inside of your thighs and caressed your skin there before he slowly pushed them to open even further. His hands prepared you for him, his eyes asked for your permission. You nodded and Benedict flashed you a smile, that was all he needed. He peppered your thighs with kisses, taking small bites and kissing your sore skin afterwards. Your breathing deepened as his mouth got closer to where you needed him the most. He was so close he could smell you and oh Lord, his dick got hard as a rock at that moment.

You took a sharp breath when he licked from your entrance to your clit and savored your juices in his mouth. The image was completely sinful, his blue eyes were locked on you while his lips sucked on your bundle of nerves, his hands forced your legs to stay open for him. Your head was thrown back, your mouth was open in a perfect "O" form, your fingers digging into his scalp. Once he noticed the desperation in the way your hips rolled against his mouth, two of his fingers entered you easily. You stifled a loud moan, throwing a hand over your mouth.

Benedict hummed, sending vibrations to your clit.

—Talk to me. How does this feel? —He required.

—So good. It feels... —You bit down your lower lip, his fingers sank deeper. —It feels like heaven.

He was satisfied with your answer.

Benedict fucked you with his fingers until you had to grab his wrist to get him to stop, it was too much. Your legs closed around his head but his lips were still attached to your clit and he didn't stop until he heard how your moans turned into whines and cries, not until he noticed how your back arched off the chair and your chest rose and fell uncontrolled thanks to your panting. Benedict didn't stop, not until he felt how your pussy was clenching so hard that almost pushed his fingers out of you and he heard you moan his name one last time as your grip on his hair tightened.

He gave you all the time you needed to catch your breath, kissing your legs and intertwining his fingers with yours while you came down from your high. Benedict's blue eyes were locked on you making every effort to later recall every single part of you.

—How are you feeling, darling? —Benedict stood on his feet and held your hands so that you would stand up as well. Before you could answer his question, you both realized how your legs were shaking and laughed. At the same time, you felt Benedict's grip on your hands grow stronger to keep you from falling.

Benedict leaned in and kissed your lips in the sweetest possible way. The tickling sensation in your body that you felt when you were naked in front of him had turned into a different kind of tickling, now focused on your stomach. It was so familiar, you had felt it so many times when you looked at him but now, with his lips on yours and his hands treating you with so much affection and care, it was different.

You could confirm that it was not only lust but also love.

You hummed against his lips. —Wait, did you finish your drawing?

Benedict shook his head. —But, please, do not worry about that. I will help you get dressed —. You frowned confused and he gave a quick kiss to your lips so, as he had told you, you would not worry. —I can finish later. There's no way I'm forgetting your body, my dear.