#and suddenly you wonder what happened to you in the last few month since you first talked to this guy. maybe there is something wrong

[danishphoner]

BEST OF BOTH WORLDS | MOJO Magazine | August 2008

Abandoning their day-jobs with Arctic Monkeys and The Rascals, Alex Turner and Miles Kane fled to France to indulge their symphonic pop fantasies. Now, The Last Shadow Puppets want to move to New York and record "like Tony Bennett"...

Words: Tom Doyle Photography: Ross Halfin

Transcript below

IT IS AUGUST 2007 AND DOWN THE worming country lanes of rural Brittany, two boyish figures, stripped to the waist, are cycling with carefree abandon. Alex Turner and Miles Kane, the duo soon to begin trading under the name The Last Shadow Puppets, are at the end of a labour-intensive fortnight at Black Box Studios that has seen them successfully commit to tape the foundations of their debut album, The Age Of The Understatement.

It will prove to be a record swimming in baroque pop ambition and melodic drama, inspired by music made 20 vears before either of them were even born. Elated by its realisation, the pair are in heady, celebratory mood as the kilometres pass. Quickly, however, their mutual giddiness begins to give way to shared anxiety. Turner and Kane suddenly have no idea where they are. 

"We freaked out," the former admits, with a disbelieving headshake. "There was nothing there. Just road."

"Then," continues the latter, “we were, like, ohhhhh, don't know where we're going.”

"They disappeared for quite a few hours," recalls producer James Ford, who was waiting back at the barn-housed studio wondering where his young charges had vanished.

"We got back," Kane grins, "and we're like, fucking hell, thank God for that. Felt dead safe."

It was a rare moment of doubt for the pair, who in every other respect appear to be the very model of youthful assurance. It would also happen be the first and last time The Last Shadow Puppets were to find themselves utterly lost.

Eleven months later: Studio A1 at The Premises rehearsal studios, Hackney. Wide-eyed panic has given way to mild creative frustration. It is July 3, 2008 and in preparation for their appearance the next day as mystery guests on Jo Whiley's Radio 1 show on the occasion of her 43rd birthday, The Last Shadow Puppets — in line with the DJ's Live Lounge policy of artists performing unlikely covers — are attempting to remould Barbadian popstrel Rihanna's 2006 hit SOS into something more Puppets-shaped.

As MOJO parks itself on the rehearsal room sofa, Turner and Kane sit side-by-side facing their soundman-turned-kevboardist John Ashton's Vox Continental and Space Echo-enhanced Wurlitzer piano and begin performing the tune as a Be My Baby-styled mid-pacer. Turner is apparently disinclined to gender-flip the lines, "Boy you know you got me feeling open/And boy your love's enough with words unspoken."

The trio strike the last note and silence fills the room. "Bit boring though?" Turner wonders aloud. Kane shrugs. Turner reaches for his acoustic guitar and instantly reconfigures the chords into a galloping rhythm reminiscent of Scott Walker's We Came Through (or, closer to home, The Age Of The Understatement's strident title track). "That's dead Shadow Puppets, that," Kane enthuses. The others fall in behind him, but the attempt falters mid-way and the song falls apart.

"Could we do it half the other way and half like that?" Turner muses. Kane turns to MOJO. "What d'you reckon, mate?" Bit of both sounds good, MOJO offers. They launch into it but can't work through the tempo-bending segue. Turner's mobile rings yet again and, in frustration, he fishes it out of his pocket and hurls it across the room. Tomorrow the pair will revert to their original idea, as supported by a reverby drum machine. Today, however, it is clearly time for a pint.

Settled in a pub around the corner, both sip Becks Vier, their legs constantly fidgeting and fingers drumming along to the jukebox. The now-22-year-old Turner has obviously done a lot of growing up in the year since MOJO last met him, having flown the parental home and in March moved to London. "Down that way," he gestures vaguely in the direction of Bethnal Green. Kane, also 22, still lives at home with his parents in Liverpool.

Together, the pair are almost twin-like in their outlooks and enthusiasms. In interview mode, Turner often still remains slightly elusive and far keener to get on with the business of making music than wasting time analysing it. Kane, meanwhile, burbles along keenly, frequently infecting his partner with the giggles. In these moments, they take on an almost Beatlemania-period Lennon and McCartney dynamic, gasping to finish one another's incredulous observations and comically retold tales that often end submerged in laughter, becoming indecipherable. Both frequently communicate in broken sentences and non sequiturs.

Back in February 2007 when MOJO accompanied Arctic Monkeys on their secret tour of northern England, Kane was a constant presence, performing in support with his female-fronted, '60s-flavoured group Little Flames and often to be found sat at Turner's side in the headliners' dressing room. Having played guitar on 505 from Favourite Worst Nightmare, the smart money might have been on him becoming a permanent addition to Arctic Monkeys. Even then, however, there were other plans afoot.

"Me and my mate Miles have been writing a few tunes," Turner told MOJO then. "Today we were chatting and [both] saying, I've got into having a right good sing in the morning, just getting up and playing guitar dead loud."

Backstage on one date at Middlesbrough Town Hall, it transpires the two were sneaking off to further hone their songs.

"That time when you were with us," Turner nods, “we were upstairs singing in this sort of loft room at the top of that venue. Me and him just playing our tunes before we went on."

It soon became apparent to the two that there was much they shared aside from their knowing humour, Mod-referencing haircuts and passion for 1960s music. Both are only children, and say even their mums are uncannily similar. The pair recall first meeting backstage somewhere when Little Flames opened for Arctic Monkeys on their debut headlining tour in 2005.

"But even on that tour," Turner remembers, "it weren't like we were holding hands or owt."

Kane concurs. "More like holding hands on the next one."

CLEARLY, IN TERMS OF THEIR CREATIVITY AND recorded output, neither Turner nor Kane are willing to let the grass grow under their feet. Both nod at this observation and say nothing. Then Kane turns to Turner. "Remember the phone calls? Went on for ages? I was in Sweden recording [with Little] Flames. I was speaking to him and saying, Oh this is doing my head in. I'd write B-sides, but I just wanted to be doing my own tunes. I'd started to become..." Turner cuts in: "More confident, d'you know what I mean?"

Within weeks of Arctic Monkeys' spring 2007 tour, Kane had formed The Rascals with two other Little Flames escapees, Joe Edwards and Greg Mighall, and almost all of the songs for The Age Of The Understatement had been written. The claustrophobic orch-pop of The Chamber came first, penned while Favourite Worst Nightmare was being mixed at Assault And Battery Studios in London, to be quickly followed by lovelorn vignette Meeting Place and the venomous I Don't Like You Anymore.

"I distinctly remember we were mixing a tune," recalls James Ford, producer of both Favourite Worst Nightmare and The Age Of The Understatement, "and there was one of the [Last Shadow Puppets] songs Al was playing. I was like, That's really good, we should record that. And he was like, 'Oh no, I'm saving that for something else.' Then they pulled me away into a side room and said, 'Listen, what do you reckon to these?' They instantly had a sound, even though they were just acoustic."

In the tradition of Lennon & McCartney, some of The Last Shadow Puppets' songs were written together, knee to knee, while the remainder involved finishing off the other partner's near-complete offering (for the record, the rattling Standing Next To Me is Kane's, while the more reflective Calm Like You and My Mistakes Were Made For You are both Turner's). Both say their writing collaboration was painless.

"That's the good thing with us," Kane states. "You don't feel like…”

"...you've to stand on ceremony," says Turner.

"You'd never be afraid to be like, Oh I don't know about that," Kane adds. "If the other one said it, it would be like... understood."

Ask the pair what The Last Shadow Puppets do that their day bands can't and initially there's silence. "It's just a completely different... process, I suppose," Turner offers, eventually. "So far it's been more traditional in the sense that we wrote the songs, and in the studio it's just two of us really. It would have been much harder if we'd have been trying to put a band together and then go and record it.”

With Turner, had he felt there were things that he couldn't do with Arctic Monkeys and that he had to step outside of the band? "Not primarily," he reasons. "It were just the desire for us two to do something together. I think if you would've tried to prise your ideas from this into your band, it'd have ended up being a diluted thing. Whereas, me, him and James wanted to do a record that it with," reckons Turner. "And also Owen being sort of our age and

sounded like this. It was better that than little bits of it being everywhere else and crow-barring it into your band.”

Arriving in France in August of last year at Black Box Studios (a facility much used by Steve Albini in the past due to his connection with its owner, Big Black/Shellac engineer lain Burgess), and while settling on The Last Shadow Puppets as their chosen moniker – Turner And Kane sounded like a bad cop film, they reasoned – threw themselves into the recording of The Age Of The Understatement.

"We started off," Turner recalls, "and did Standing Next To Me. With that and the harmony on it, we were like, Aw this is great." 

In the splendid isolation of the French countryside, work progressed at an unrelenting pace, broken only by drunken evenings blasting records by such reference touchstones as '60s Bowie, Scott Walker and David Axelrod [see panel] through the studio's skull-rattling monitors.

"It felt like a music appreciation society," notes Ford. "We did notice that a lot of the records that we were enjoying did have really interesting string parts."

Wary of the strings-as-size excursions of Oasis and The Verve in the ‘90s, all three were determined that, having invited Arcade Fire associate Owen Pallett to score for the London Metropolitan Orchestra, the symphonic arrangements of the songs would be decorative and melody-enhancing. "That's a product certainly of that caution we approached it with," reckons Turner. "And also Owen being sort of our age and understanding... not to make it too big, not make it... stupid." 

Back in London in December, recording the string overdubs at Mark Knopfler's British Grove in Chiswick, the pair wrote one extra song for the album, the pounding Separate And Ever Deadly. Today they marvel at the fact that they couldn't find a guitar to use at the Dire Straits leader's studio.

Turner: "It's like a shit-hot studio, loads of plasma tellies, coffee-maker, boss air-conditioning....

Both: (Laughing) "Not one guitar."

Kane: "We were like, Have you got a guitar? We're just trying to mess around with this new tune. And it was like, 'What? No. But we've got Sky TV in every room.' So we rented a guitar for a day."

Mixed as quickly as it was recorded, thematically The Age Of The Understatement seemed to be stalked by some kind of femme fatale figure: "subtle in her method of seduction" in the title track, while in Only The Truth, both warn "don't give her an eye or she'll sniper your mind". Elsewhere, in the atmospheric My Mistakes Were Made For You, she has morphed into a Peaches Geldof-fashioned scenester dizzy with fame: "She was bitten on her birthday and now/A face in the crowd she's not." Both Turner and Kane say the female presence haunting the album only really became apparent after the record was done. James Ford, however, noticed the theme developing during the sessions. "That's a lot of what they talk about," the producer explains. "There was always crazy phone calls from girls and weird things going on. So I think it just related to what was in their heads."

TWO WEEKS BEFORE THE PREMISES REHEARSAL: THE MOJO Honours List in London EC1. Having warily negotiated the red carpet at similar gong ceremonies in the past with Arctic Monkeys, Turner – now a far more commanding figure than even 15 months before – poses cockily and jokily for the cameras with his arm around Kane's waist. He accepts the Breakthrough Act award, saying, "Thanks, it means a lot to us whippersnappers."

In the backstage photo room, they goon around, fondling the Gandalf-like grey beard of their award presenter Seasick Steve who – at odds with his techno-naïf, blues bum image – informs them he had earlier been watching their videos on YouTube.

"That tune Standing Next To Me, boys," he grins. "Real good. Real good."

Today back in the Hackney pub, the pair begin to jabber animatedly with their memories of the evening's shenanigans.

"I got Weller in a headlock," Kane recalls, cackling. "Lemmy as well we had a chat to. He was, like, shaking."

"We said 'All right' to Nick Cave," Turner continues, "but I've never been so reluctant to interrupt someone. He was telling someone a story and his hands were waving and his rings seemed like to form this barrier so I daren't go,

'Scuse me."

Both dissolve when recalling their encounter with Jimmy Page. All three, having failed to grab the attention of Duffy, apparently descended into mucky speak.

Kane: "[Page] went, 'Aw, she wasn't having it, was she?'"

Turner: "And we were like, Oh you were a bit of a shagger, were you, Jimmy? And he were like, 'Yeah…’ Still at it now, sort of thing."

Their laughter fades and Turner appears to grow ruminative. "We certainly felt like the kids that night, didn't we?" he says to his partner.

Both are plainly enjoying their mate-as-prop camaraderie that allows them to play child-like among the wider musical fraternity from the relative safety of their friendship.

At Glastonbury this year, The Last Shadow Puppets turned in a surprise semi-acoustic set on The Park Stage, supplemented by Jack White on their rendition of Billy Fury's Wondrous Place. The fact that the filmed evidence shows him fluffing his solo becomes understandable when the details of how Turner and Kane harangued him into his appearance are remembered today.

Kane: "To be fair to him, he'd just come offstage with The Raconteurs. Me and him, cheeky bastards, ran back and we were like, Oh Jack, d'you want to come play the solo on this tune?' And he was like, 'Nah, man, I'll pass. Thanks anyway.' But we went on at him until he said yeah."

Turner: "We were like, (mischievously) Sit down for a minute."

Kane: "It was only about half an hour before we went on. We ran and got the iPod and it was like (breathlessly), Jack, learn that. He's like, 'What the fuck?' Us two are... (panting)."

Turner: "Then you couldn't hear what the fuck were going on on-stage."

Kane: "He couldn't hear the organ [to know] when to come in. It's not his fault. It wasn't, like, ridiculous. It was a buzz, you know what I mean?"

SUCH MANNER OF BROTHERLY japery, not to mention The Last Shadow Puppets' creative and commercial success (The Age Of The Understatement debuted at Number 1 in the UK chart) begs the question: has their partnership in any way threatened their day bands, personally or professionally?

Turner is typically circumspect regarding Arctic Monkeys. "They're just dead into it, he says. "They were some of the first people that heard it, d'you know what I mean? Probably everyone wanted a bit of a rest this year anyway.” Kane meanwhile admits that this supposed side-project has unarguably overshadowed The Rascals. "Well, it is bigger than my band," he states. "It is tough and probably people do compare. But [The] Rascals is my fucked-up, dark thing and it'll grow."

The Rascals plan to diversify by working with Elbow's Guy Garvey in the near future. Meanwhile, by the time you read this, Arctic Monkeys will be deep into the recording of their third, currently more psych-rock-sounding album, with eight songs, including those debuted on their winter 2007 tour (the garagey Put Me In A Terror Pocket being a stand-out) recorded in January, and sessions recommencing in July. "There's one called Pretty Visitors that's quite full-on," Turner reveals. "The drumming on it's amazing."

Live outings for The Last Shadow Puppets have up until now been relatively rare, though in October the extended troupe (featuring James Ford on drums and Stephen Fretwell on bass) head out for a European jaunt including nine British dates with the LMO. Schemes for a second LSP record are already being plotted, with the pair keen to relocate to New York to write and record an album, possibly live with an orchestra in the old school tradition. "Like Tony Bennett or something," Kane muses.

Recently Paul Weller voiced the opinion that Turner had done the right thing in making three albums in three years: staying productive, learning his craft rather than getting mired in the machinations of the music industry and the treadmill of promotion as many other young artists seem to have.

"Mm, I dunno," Turner half-mumbles. "There's no point in thinking, I've gotta do a record every year. There were definitely an urgency with Arctic Monkeys' second record. It's probably easier now because you're maybe more relaxed. It's just growing up a bit, I suppose. But there's no need to rush things."

He turns to Kane. "I suppose the common ground with us was short attention spans. You get bored. It's 'cos we're still quite young."

The sound of Dusty Springfield singing Little By Little suddenly floats through the air from the jukebox speakers and The Last Shadow Puppets are back drumming and fidgeting to the accompanying rhythm, both temporarily entranced.

"You don't feel like your feet are planted," Turner decides, returning to us finally. "You want to keep wriggling around."

-

Puppet Theatre

The melodrama that influences Messers Turner and Kane

David Axelrod

Turner: "We got an anthology just before we went to France. John (Ashton, keyboard-player) had played me that Electric Prunes album – Mass in F Minor and Holy Are You [from 1968's Release Of An Oath]. We played The Fly like a hundred times while we were there Kane: "We got into it loads when we were in France, It was just like, Oh this is amazing." Turner: "It make you feel like... I dunno, it's cinematic, isn't it? Which is where that aspect came from with our thing."

Scott Walker

Kane: "I suppose the gallop [beat] came from that. We got that Boy Child comp." Turner: The Plague is great. We had that Scott Walker Sings Jacques Brel album." Kane: "Especially about a year and a half ago l used to listen to him every day. Andy Bell from Oasis said we should cover We Came Through." Turner: "Did he? Well you can't do Jackie. Divine Comedy."

David Bowie

Turner: "That one tune [In The Heat Of The Morning, covered by LSP on the B-side of The Age Of The Understatement 45] really stands out. It's the one we'd both heard. It was on my mum's [copy of] Bowie At The Beeb. And some things seem right to cover." Kane: "We're into Hunky Dory, Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane." Turner: "I'm probably more into it than I was. I'd only really heard Ziggy Stardust. I'd just not really touched on it before. But once you get into it, the lyrics just..." Both: "Blow your head."

Richard Hawley

Kane: "I'm well into his guitar sound. I love The Ocean." Turner: "Born Under A Bad Sign and You Don't Miss Your Water. They're probably my favourite tunes. And then that one Bang To Rights off that [eponymous] mini-album. What's that one on Late Night Final that's just all Leslie? (Sings as Kane fiddles with iPod)." Both: "Precious Sight."

Lennon & McCartney

Kane: "We love that side [of what we do] the best." Turner: "We like No Reply at the moment. And I'll Follow The Sun." Kane: "Good harmony on that, them two. We'd like to do a tune a bit like that. Have you heard [Help! outtake] That Means A Lot? McCartney sings it. It's on the Anthology [2] CD. It's like Spector, dead reverby. It's their one tune in that style, pure Ronettes." Turner: "I've never heard of it."

Mojo Magazine interview from 2008.

Enjoy! Bits of particular note to me:

- Alex is the one who’s not keen to change the gender of the lyrics in their cover of Rhiana’s SOS

- Alex’s drama queen temper tantrum throwing his phone 💅🏻

- Talk of holding hands 🩷

- Sneaking off in Middlesbrough

- they both wanted to relocate to New York to do a second album (but we now know only Alex got to go and live there 😭)

- Separate and Ever Deadly was the last song written for TAOTU (making those lyrics rather more pointed)

[dogearedheart]

guys is it weird to call a guy you never even met after your girlfriend broke up with you?

[wholoveseggs]

Homecoming

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Daemon Targaryen x Reader} You haven't seen your husband since your passionate wedding night, leaving you to doubt his love. Now, three months later, you're round with child and missing him more than ever—until he suddenly returns.

♡♡ This is purely just to get all my daddy Daemon feelings out, I 100% believe he has a breeding kink. ♡♡

3.2k words - Warnings: smut, major breeding kink, slow sex, so so so much fluff, a little bit of angst and Daemon apologizing in bed...

@elijahstwink @starshipcookie @absolutemarveltrash @odairtrqsh @darkened-writer

@cheneyq @fallout-girl219 @nina6708 @evasmlp @sadmonke

@deamonloverrrr @urmomsgirlfriend1 @moonsleep

It was another quiet night, in a bed far too large for one. The wind was gently blowing through the curtains, bringing with it a cool breeze and the smell of the sea. It was late, and everyone was asleep, yet you laid awake, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

You rolled over onto your side, the silk of the sheets sliding against your bare skin. These days, sleep evaded you, no matter how much you tried. If it wasn't your thoughts keeping you up, it was your changing body and the ever growing life inside of you.

Three months ago you had gotten married to the prince Daemon, a dream of many girls across the kingdom. But your marriage was hardly that. The day after the ceremony you woke up in an empty bed, and hadn't seen your husband since, leaving you to wonder if you had done something wrong.

He had left you no letter, no message. Nothing. Only the memory of your wedding night, the way he touched and kissed you, his sweet whispers of adoration as he made you his. On the loneliest days you would close your eyes and remember it all, his lips on yours, the way his fingers caressed you, the feel of him inside you.

You place your hand on the small bump of your stomach, a smile spreading across your lips. Although it had only been one night, he did his duty and you were pregnant. A piece of him was always with you.

But it wasn't enough.

You longed to see him again, to touch him and be held by him, to tell him of the life growing within you. You wanted so desperately to be with him, but instead you were left with the ghost of his love, a memory that wasn't enough to fill the hole in your heart.

You sighed, trying to push away those thoughts, and attempted to fall asleep, but every time you closed your eyes all you could see was his handsome face. You opened them again and sat up, staring into the darkness.

You could see the light of a torch through the cracks of the door, and the sound of footsteps. You knew exactly who it was, the guard outside your door. His shift was almost over, and soon a new one would be out there, watching over you. There was a muffled conversation, and the sound of someone walking away.

A few moments later the door cracked open, and the torch light poured into the room. Your eyes squinted at the sudden brightness, and as the person entered the room they shut the door.

You were about to give your guard a kindly lecture on waking you up when you noticed that it wasn't the guard who had walked in, but a hooded man. You opened your mouth to call for help, but before you could get a sound out he was at your bedside, his hand covering your mouth.

"Don't scream, my love, it's me." He whispered.

You blinked at the voice, your mind taking a second to process what was happening. Your eyes widened, and you reached for his hand. He took it away from your mouth and intertwined your fingers together, his other hand pulling down his hood.

"Daemon." You breathed, looking up at his face.

The torchlight casted a warm glow on his handsome features, highlighting his strong cheekbones and sharp jawline. His hair was longer than the last time you saw him, hanging past his shoulders, his eyes were dark and clever, looking you over with admiration.

You pulled him towards you, your lips crashing into his. He let out a sigh, a sound that sounded almost pained, and returned your kiss. Then you harshly pushed him away, hitting his chest.

"Where have you been?" You demanded.

"I had matters to attend to." He told you.

"Three months!" You cried. "Three months I waited for you, and you were doing what?"

He smiled and pulled off his cloak, his eyes raking over your form. He reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin.

You wanted to be angry with him, you really did, but the look he was giving you, like he was starved, melted away your resolve. You leaned into his touch and looked up at him through your lashes, a smile tugging at your lips.

"Asshole," You whispered.

"My love." He whispered back, leaning down and placing a kiss to your forehead.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another heated kiss. You were angry, yes, but seeing him now made all of that fade away. Your ire could wait until the morning.

His lips were gentle and loving, and you were so happy that you had almost forgotten that he had been gone. He kneeled on the bed and pulled you close, his hands cupping your cheeks.

When he pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, smiling and breathing hard.

"I thought you left me," You admitted, your hands gripping his wrists, as though you could keep him there forever by holding on to him.

He hummed, his nose nuzzling against yours and you pressed yourself closer to him, trying to get as much contact as possible.

His large, warm hands moved down to the swell of your stomach. He placed his palms flat against the bump and leaned back, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Did the maesters tell you?" You asked, placing your hands over his.

He nodded, his eyes lifting up to meet yours. "How are you feeling?" He asked, with such gentle kindness that it made your heart melt.

"Big." You answered, laughing slightly. "I can't wear any of my old clothes, and I have to have new ones made all the time. And the way the ladies look at me when I go out..."

He shook his head, a breathy laugh escaping him, his thumbs caressing your skin. It was true that you had changed since the wedding, your body swelling with his child. You were nervous about how he would react, but the softness in his eyes and the way he touched you told you otherwise.

"I wish I could have told you the news myself, it's a shame you had to hear it from some crusty old maester," you said.

"It is a wonderful thing to return home too," he smiled, leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours.

He kissed you deeply, his arms wrapping around your waist. You smiled into the kiss, your fingers weaving through his long, silver hair. You could feel his lips turn up against yours, and you both pulled away.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes raking over your features, a smirk tugging at his lips. His hands trailed down your sides, sending a wave of heat through you.

"My prince," you said softly, your fingers brushing along his cheekbone. "We've already made a baby. You don't have to do this."

He laughed, and shook his head, a look in his eyes you couldn't decipher. "I forget just how innocent you are," he said, his hands trailing down to your thighs.

“Well, whose fault is that?” You teased, smiling up at your handsome husband.

You sucked in a breath as he leaned down, his lips trailing kisses along your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin.

"It's true, I've been away for too long, my lady wife has forgotten what it is I crave," he breathed against your skin, his lips finding yours once more.

Your hands slid down his shoulders and arms, feeling his muscles. He pulled back slightly and tugged off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor.

"You have gotten bigger as well," you said, running your hands across his chest, feeling the hard muscles.

He smirked, a cocky gleam in his eyes. "Oh?"

"It suits you," you said, a playful smile on your lips.

His hand came to rest on the side of your neck, his fingers caressing your jaw. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip and he leaned in, capturing your mouth with his.

"And you are more beautiful than the day we wed," he said, his voice husky.

"My prince flatters me." You breathed, a blush rising on your cheeks.

His eyes went to the ties on your nightdress, a row of pretty little bows that went down to the valley of your breasts. He tugged at one of the ribbons, the fabric becoming loose.

He pushed it aside and his hand moved up to caress your breast, his thumb rubbing your nipple, causing you to gasp.

"Still as sensitive." He said, a smirk on his lips.

He leaned down and took your other nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, before gently biting down. You tugged hard on his hair, your legs kicking and squirming as he continued to play with you.

"Daemon," you moaned.

He hummed, the vibration causing a wave of pleasure to wash over you. He let go of your nipple, and his mouth moved lower, placing hot kisses along your skin, his hand pushing up your night dress.

"Perhaps a bit more sensitive." He commented, his hand brushing along your thigh.

He hooked a finger into the waistband of your small clothes and pulled them off. You were now naked, your body on full display for him, and he leaned back and admired his work. His hand on the swell of your belly, his thumb tracing over a stretch mark.

"Beautiful." He said, a sincerity in his voice that made your heart skip a beat.

You looked away, suddenly shy. You had only spent one night with him, and now he was here again. His touch, his words, they all still had an affect on you, making your stomach flutter and heart race.

He leaned down, and pressed a kiss to your bump, his hand resting on the side of it, his lips trailing lower. You smiled softly, and ran your fingers through his hair, the silver strands smooth between your fingers.

His hand came to rest on your thighs, gently coaxing your legs open. You watched as he positioned himself between them, his head almost disappearing behind your bump.

His eyes flickered up to yours, and his smirk was all too knowing, causing you to blush and turn away. He leaned forward, his tongue darting out and licking up your slit.

You gasped, your grip on his hair tightening. He did it again, this time focusing his attention on that sensitive little spot he introduced to you on your wedding night. He placed a soft kiss on it, his tongue circling it.

"Dae-ah," you moaned, trying to muffle the sound by pressing a hand over your mouth.

You didn't know if it was the fact that you were pregnant, or maybe that you missed him more than anything, but everything felt different, his touch more intense.

His hands gripped the backs of your thighs, holding you down as his tongue licked and circled you. His mouth moved down and his tongue slid into you, making you arch and cry out. He lapped at your arousal, his tongue going in and out, the sounds he made, the hums and sighs, driving you wild.

He groaned, a sound that vibrated through your entire body, and his tongue went up, swirling around that little spot again, his mouth closing over it.

You moaned his name, your thighs squeezing him, your whole body trembling as your release washed over you.

He placed a few more kisses to the inside of your thighs before rising up, his hair messy and face glistening with you. He wiped his face with his arm and leaned down, his lips capturing yours.

You could taste yourself on him, and you kissed him hard, your hand tangling into his hair, the other reaching down to the ties of his trousers. He helped you undo them, and kicked off his pants.

His hard length sprung free, and you wrapped a hand around it, causing him to let out a shaky moan. He pressed his forehead against yours, his hand cupping your cheek, and his eyes locking onto yours.

You slowly started to stroke him, and he let out another moan, his eyes fluttering closed, his breath hot against your skin.

"My love," he groaned, his hips thrusting into your hand.

You loved the effect you had on him, the control you had. To have the prince of dragonstone, the most dangerous man in the realm, at the palm of your hand, made your heart flutter.

His hand found yours, and he guided it away from his length, a whine leaving your throat. He chuckled and gave you a quick kiss before positioning himself between your legs.

He slowly pushed himself in, causing you both to moan. It hurt a little, just like the first time, but his hands were on your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin, and he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, letting you adjust.

"My love, I'm not going to break," you said.

He smirked and gave a shallow thrust, a gasp leaving you.

"I can't be too careful with what is mine." He said, leaning down and giving you a heated kiss.

He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, his hand sliding up the length of your leg, coming to rest on your bump, his other hand planted next to your head, holding himself up.

He started to move, his length slowly sliding in and out, the pace slow and gentle. You could feel every inch of him, rubbing against that perfect spot. A soft moan left you, and you reached out, your hands on his chest, feeling the hand planes of muscle underneath his skin.

His thumb caressed your belly, his eyes never leaving your face, studying every detail, memorizing each feature. You felt so exposed under his gaze and turned away, your cheeks flushed.

He smiled, a soft, loving smile, and kissed you.

"How I've missed you, my beautiful wife," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

You looked up at him, seeing nothing but love in his eyes. It was the way he had looked at you at your wedding, the two of you standing there in the sept, whispering promises to each other. The world had disappeared around you, and in that moment you were the only people that existed.

He kissed you again, and began moving a little faster, the sound of his hips meeting yours filling the room. He groaned, his hand still gently stroking your bump.

"I can't believe such a perfect creature could bear my child," he said, his eyes trailing down to where his hand rested.

"Our child," you corrected, giving him a teasing smile.

He hummed, leaning back and wrapping his arms around your waist and helping you into a sitting position. He pulled you onto his lap, and you moaned at the way he was buried deeper inside you.

His lips left open mouth kisses on your shoulders, and his hands rested on your hips, guiding you. You braced yourself on his shoulders, his hands back on your bump as you moved. You knew he liked the feel of it, and he couldn't get enough.

Your name left his lips as you bounced in his lap, his hands cupping your ass, squeezing you. You moaned, your hands sliding into his hair, tugging at the silver locks. You were growing louder, your body humming, that feeling building within you.

"Not too loud, my love," he whispered. "I do not wish for the guards to hear,"

A moan, that was halfway to a laugh escaped you, and he cut it off with a deep kiss. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, as you kept moving, the feeling of your release building.

"For your lovely sounds are only for me," he continued, his voice in your ear.

You let out another shaky moan, his hands squeezing you. He was moving his hips to meet yours, and you could feel him shaking beneath you. His hands gripped your hips tighter, and pulled you harder, his voice soft yet commanding as he talked you closer to your peak.

Your hands gripped his arms and back, and when he said your name, a deep, low groan that sounded almost pained, you toppled over the edge, falling in a pool of ecstasy. All the pent up emotions and frustration that you had been holding in were released, and you let go of a final moan that you muffle in the crook of his neck.

He followed soon after, capturing your lips in a heated kiss and letting out a deep, satisfied moan. You clung to him, afraid that he might disappear if you didn't. His arms were wrapped around your middle, cradling you close to him, his lips pressed to your temple.

The two of you breathed in each other's air, a simple shared breath, your foreheads pressed together, your eyes closed. You could feel his lips on your sweat slicked skin, his fingertips still caressing your bump.

When you both had returned to your senses, he gently laid you back on the bed. He leaned down, the tip of his nose nuzzling against yours, and peppered your face with little kisses. You smiled and let your eyes flutter open, finding him staring at you, a sweet, lovestruck look in his eye.

He grabbed the blanket, and covered your naked form with it, tucking it around you, almost protectively. He crawled under with you,his head resting against your chest, his hand still protectively cradling the swell of your stomach.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and ran your fingers through his hair, smiling. He looked up at you, his eyes sleepy, and he pressed a kiss to your bump.

"I hope it's a boy," you said, continuing to stroke his hair. "With the most handsome features, and a true warrior, like his father."

"Mm," he hummed, his eyes closing, and his arms wrapping around your waist. "I hope it is a girl, a daughter that looks just like her mother."

He was silent for a moment, and you wondered if he had fallen asleep, when his eyes suddenly opened.

"Or perhaps both," he said, his voice serious, a glimmer of something in his eyes.

"Twins?" You laughed. "I don't think I could handle two little dragons running about."

He chuckled, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your skin. "I will be here to help you," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "I am not going anywhere."

"You better not," you warned, poking his chest. "You've kept me waiting long enough."

He laughed again and caught your wrist, bringing your finger to his lips and placing a gentle kiss there. He slid his arms back around you, and pulled you close, your foreheads touching, your noses brushing.

You were content, your heart filled with so much love for him, and as his breathing evened out and his eyelids drooped, you knew he felt the same. You drifted off to sleep, dreaming of what was to come. Of a big family, a happy life, and many more nights just like this one. 

[multicohn]

summary: fans don’t like lando’s new girlfriend because how scary and emotionless she looks, but he could care less.

warnings: mention of fans not liking the reader

pairing: fem! reader x lando norris

genre: fluff, short one shot, established relationship

face claim: none

author note: lowkey kinda sucks. i don’t have much motivation to write rn but i wanted to upload something 🥲

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the couple had only been dating for only eight months before lando decided to reveal his girlfriend to the public. y/n had no problem with keeping it a secret since they were both unsure if their relationship would even work given the busy schedules they had, but through a lot of communication they managed to make it work. however, fans weren’t very happy since y/n always looked emotionless or angry on screen and in photos despite lando having a giant smile on his face that could rival all might’s ( my hero academia reference ) when he’s beside her. his fans were very vocal about how they felt about her, but neither of them cared.

the british grand prix was only a few days away and ever since they started dating, lando had dreamed of having her being by his side. however, y/n ( had exams that weekend / couldn’t get time off work ). he tried not to show that he was upset, brushing it off with a simple; "well, there's always next year", but y/n knew him too well and knew how much this race meant to him. any other race would have been understandable, but this was the british grand prix.

when lando arrived on thursday, he was immediately greeted by cameras, microphones, and merchandise being shoved at him from every direction.

"you look a little down, lando. not a fan of the weather?" it was quite cloudy that day and the rain was starting to pick up, but it was far from the reasoning behind his mood

"just didn't get a good sleep"

"oh?"

y/n had gone to bed much earlier than usual, saying she needed all the energy she possibly could for tomorrow. lando inquired about what was so important, but she refused to tell him. he had stayed up last night and wondered about what was happening; was her exam worth much more than he realised? / did her job have a special work thing going on that he doesn't remember?

lando sighed deeply as he made his way inside the hospitality area. his hand itching to grab his phone and text y/n despite knowing that she would be busy.

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y/n had lied.

she knew how much this race in particular meant to lando and she wasn’t going to miss it, but the thought of surprising him made her lie about school / work.

unfortunately, her plan slightly backfired as she was going to surprise lando when he finished his practice session, but the weather delayed everything.

shrugging it off, y/n entered the garage to find her boyfriend dressed in his race suit with a windbreak over top and looked to be dozing off in a chair.

“lando” y/n tapped his shoulder gently as she sat down beside him

“oh, hey baby” he commented while staring at her sleepily

. . .

he suddenly shot out of his chair making those around them jump in fright at the sudden movement.

“y/n?” lando rubbed his eyes. sure that his brain is still asleep and making him hallucinate

“yeah?”

“am i dreaming?” she rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the tv where they were showing fans who were in colourful ponchos or raincoats

she almost laughed at seeing someone’s poncho decorated with george russell’s face.

however, all emotion left y/n's eyes as her face popped up on the screen before it shifted towards lando who was just dazing at her lovingly.

if they were in a cartoon, his eyes would've been hearts.

she heard some people let out “awes” and they started cooing at the couple making the edges of y/n's lips twitch upwards. she turned to her boyfriend and placed a hand on his cheeks before caressing softly.

once they were no longer on screen, y/n leaned forward and kissed her boyfriend gently.

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[s1m0nth3swag]

Francis Mosses x GN!Reader

AUTHORS NOTE; Haven't written in a while, but thanks to Arlo, a friend (Hi Arlo, I know you're reading this), Inspiration about Francis Mosses struck (he bought me That's not my neighbor and then continued to freak out about Francis with me) so I wrote this. I have so many thoughts about Francis, so... tell me if you want more because i will deliver ngl. Enjoy (or don't, I don't dictate your feelings)

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Porn with little to no plot, Submissive Francis, a little non-consensual at the start (but not in a super weird way, imo?), Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used, tried to write as GN as possible with the compliments and thoughts about Readers appearance), not proofread nor have I thought about this much, more a drabble than an actual thoughtful story (not apologising because I had such a long break from writing anything and obviously it's gonna suck a little when I come back)

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

The first time Francis had realised that he hadn't gotten any touch from another human being was when someone brushed up against him on his way home from work. He had felt like a creep afterwards because he hadn't stopped thinking about what could've happened if the person hadn't moved away and had just stayed pressed against him. That was a week before you started your job as a doorman.

The second time Francis had noticed was when a friend of his had spoken to him on the phone, talking about his new girlfriend. Said friend gave too much intel on their sex life. Francis had wondered if he could have someone the way his friend explained - he quickly brushed the thought off. That was two days before you started working as a doorman.

The third time, he noticed when you had smiled at him. It was your first day, and he was tired from work. You had repeated his name after reading it off of his ID, and he had looked at you for the first time since his eyes kept falling closed, and you smiled so brightly. You had told him his name was nice, and you said it again. Francis swore that the way his name rolled off your tongue was the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. Not even an angel could sound more wonderful. Suddenly, he was a lot more energised. Totally not thanks to the fact that he had immediately grown hard the second he had seen your smile. He had gone to his apartment that night and had jerked off for the first time in probably months. He had always been too tired to previously, but now he couldn't stop thinking about how you'd sound moaning his name. Maybe you were more of a groaner, or you'd whimper and whine. He came as he imagined how you'd look sucking his dick.

Since then, Francis has always looked forward to entry checks. What had normally kept him away from his bed and a good night's sleep was now the best experience of his day. He loved the way you spoke to him even though he was too nervous to respond. Sometimes, he deliberately didn't show his ID at first, just so you'd ask about it, and he could listen to you talk a little more. He felt guilty about it. He knew you had never agreed to feed into this weird little obsession of his. It was awful of him to do this - have you talk to him enough to give him more scenarios to think about that night.

A few weeks after all this had started, Francis had built up the courage to finally ask you out. Just something simple, dinner at his place. He had to cook for himself all the time. Cooking for you as well wouldn't be too different, right?

Francis was wrong. He was anxious that the food wouldn't taste good and kept tasting it just so he could make sure it hadn't mysteriously switched tastes in the last 20 seconds. When you knocked on his door, he took a minute to make sure he didn't look like a mess - though you wouldn't mind either way since he always looked like a mess when he came through during your shifts.

You looked so good when he opened the door. Your hair fell perfectly, your lips looked a little too kissable, and Francis had to stop his train of thought just so he wouldn't embarrass himself by having yet another boner caused by just the way you looked. You were a little shorter than him, smiling up as he let you inside.

"You look good." He mumbled, his cheeks flushing. He seriously had to lay off thinking like a high-schooler. His nervousness and awkwardness were getting really annoying - to him, at least. You grinned, chuckling softly as you took off your shoes. "Thank you. You do as well." His heart for sure burst at that - he knew something else would burst as well if he didn't stop thinking right this second.

Throughout the evening, ignoring his thoughts came easier and easier. The two of you had eaten, you had told him he was a good cook, he had almost excused himself to the bathroom because of it. Now you were sitting on the couch, drinking wine and talking casually.

"You know, when you first walked through, I swore I would die." You giggled, looking at him with a mischievous look. Francis was confused by that statement. "How come?" He asked, tilting his head at you in question. "I was sure you were a doppelganger. You looked too handsome to be real." You cheekily answered, cheeks slightly flushed as you downed your wine. Francis blushed heavily, looked away from you, and thought about your words for a moment. The silence was loud as he wondered what to answer. "..you think I'm handsome?" He questioned while looking at the floor. If he had looked at you, he'd have seen the way you stared at him, your own cheeks coloured a deep red. "Extremely." You muttered. It took him a minute before he could look at you, but when he did, his lips pressed against yours in a desperate kiss.

When you reciprocated, Francis groaned and pulled you closer until you sat on his lap. He was just a tiny bit embarrassed when you gasped and felt his dick press against you. In all honesty, he had held back the entire night, and he was allowed a little selfishness. "Sorry. Can't help it." He muttered between kisses. You just grinned against his lips before grinding against him. A whimper fell from his lips - that was the moment he was actually embarrassed. "That's cute.." You had mumbled, a cheeky grin on your face as you started placing kisses against his jaw and neck. One of your hands trailed down his body to rest right over his crotch, Francis unconsciously bucked his hips up against your hand, whining. He didn't notice anything else as you caught the skin of his neck with your teeth carefully, leaving the softest bite mark on him. He shuddered at the feeling and gasped before realising that you had meanwhile unzipped his pants. A groan slipped from his lips as you ran a finger over his dick, still hidden from sight by his boxers, but god knows he would cum the second you'd touch it without. "Is this okay?" You asked him, and he nodded faster than he even knew he could. "Yes. God, yes. Please, please continue.." he muttered, his breathing heavy as he watched you slide off his lap, settling in front of him and between his legs. His dick twitched at the sight, and he let out a heavy sigh. Minutes later, his pants and boxers were discarded, and the way you looked up at him, his dick so close to your face, made Francis feel the way his orgasm was approaching way too quick. The second you wrapped your hand around him he whined pathetically, bucked up into your hand and knew that he'd definitely cum too soon. Your hand was so soft, cool against his hot flesh, and you worked his dick so good he almost thought you were a professional. He looked down at you through lidded eyes, watched the way you bit your lip, and grinned knowingly. "Such a pretty boy, huh?" You chuckled, and that definitely sealed the deal for Francis. He came, probably ruining his shirt as he dirtied both it and your hand. His heart stopped for a second when you licked your hand while looking up at him. "You didn't give me enough time to taste you properly. Don't look at me like that." You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. "You should probably take off your shirt so you can clean it later." You then winked. He swiftly shed the piece of clothing, entranced by your voice and the way you looked. "Sorry, didn't mean to cum that fast.." he mutters, his voice out of breath. "Jus'.. unused to... this.." he added, clearing his throat awkwardly. You laughed and shook your head. "Don't worry about it. We have all the time in the world to make you last longer. I'm gonna give you a real reason to be tired tomorrow." You winked.

Francis didn't even mind that he was in for a long night.

Your honour I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.

[mirohlayo]

YOU STOLE IT

( what happens when lando reunites with the girl who stole his first kiss ? )

warning : a bit of jealousy, fluff, lot of fluff

note : i love this okay. i won't write a part 2 so no requests please !!

word count : 4.9k

Lando hasn't always been very lucky in love. While he separated from a failed romantic relationship, he now finds himself alone, surrounded by his friends who are experiencing their perfect love, alongside their soulmates.

This doesn't bother him that much, since he himself admitted preferring to concentrate on his sporting career and thus become one of the best F1 drivers. No girlfriend yet.

But when he has to endure all day long the sweet words that other drivers address to their lovers, when he himself can feel love in the air, it becomes difficult not to think about starting a new chapter, this time here happy and healthy. A chapter that will fill him with happiness, as he has never been before.

Is this decision of not having enough time to find a girlfriend in order to concentrate on sport actually an excuse to hide the pain and despair that is gradually beginning to nestle in his heart?

He tries as best he can to reassure himself, to convince himself that he doesn't need this feeling of being completely in love and devoted to a girl. But when he continues to be the third wheel among the couples his friends form, he comes to desire a relationship more than anything else.

And every time, he can't help but think of this girl. This pretty girl he met during his summer vacation when he was 16. She was divinely beautiful, her shy but bubbly personality made Lando's heart capsize in a unique way, his whole being was alarmed just by hearing her name.

They both had a wonderful vacation, just the two of them together. During these two summer months, they did not let go of each other, spending every day alongside each other. They had become so close and complicit that they proclaimed themselves best friends from their first meeting during a kart race where Lando was racing for his life.

And since that day, they both developed deep feelings for each other. At first it was innocent. And it still is, in fact. They just thought it was a deep friendly connection, that they were just friendly soulmates. That those little stolen smiles and tactile touches were just childish, and just affectionate.

But it turned out that his feelings were ultimately more than that. More than just a friendly relationship. Lando found himself falling in love with you so hard, so passionately that he regretted not asking for your number when you two suddenly said goodbye.

You were his first love. And you still are. He thought that with time, you would eventually slip out of his head, that he would eventually forget you and move on, that it was just a big embarrassing crush from his youth but that he wouldn't think about it anymore growing up.

But that is absolutely not the case. He hasn't stopped thinking about you for 8 years. Every day, even before going to sleep, the only person he thinks about is you, that little girl he was madly in love with before.

He knows it, he maybe denies it a little, but deep down he realizes that he still has feelings for you. Perhaps less intense, less ardent, but there is no doubt that his romantic feelings will double in strength if he meets you again one day.

Of course, the old relationships, flirts, that he had before were sincere and true. He liked these few girls, that he was even happy in his last relationship. But for all that, it was by stopping this relationship and these flirts that he realized that everything brought him back to you. No matter what girl he meets, the only one who will forever remain deeply anchored in his heart is you.

He knows now that you two were more than friendly soulmates. Well, at least from his point of view. He was absolutely unsure about your feelings, which is why during these summer vacations, he preferred not to tell you anything for fear of destroying such a pure and important friendship in his eyes.

But again, he finds himself thinking about you, about how everything would be different with you. It was by going through all these different relationships with girls that he understood that he had never felt anything as powerful as with you. All these girls don't give him even a quarter of what he felt for you back then. So, how will this feeling change when he has the opportunity to meet you again?

The warm air of Saudi Arabia blows gently through the driver's curly hair. Free practice will begin in a few hours now, so Lando is using this time cooped up in the garage, surrounded by his teammate and his racing team, to discuss about the car.

“Hello Oscar!!” Lando's teammate is welcomed by his girlfriend, Lily, who smiles lovingly at him. The interview with the team is over, and she took the opportunity to spend some time with her boyfriend Oscar. The second driver comes to wrap his arms around his lover, before pressing a kiss to her forehead. Lando scoffs and rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “Can you do this in private please? In addition to be the third wheel, I have nausea coming on.”

Oscar mocks his teammate, still holding Lily tightly in his arms. “Mate, it’s not my fault you’re a failure in love.” The Brit stops himself from hitting him, before putting on his McLaren cap. “Need I remind you that I’ve been in a relationship before?” He says to him with a completely proud look. “Couple who ended up in a failure, by the way.” He remarks, pointing at him.

“I really loved her…” The curly pauses. “It’s just that there is someone who- no, nothing, forget what I've said” He grumbles and withdraws into himself. Oscar frowns, Lily now concerned about the situation. “What?” She questions him gently.

Lando refuses to face this situation and simply shrugs his shoulders and ends up running away to join Zack further away. He can't say more, he can't talk about this girl who obsesses him. The two lovers look at each other confused by the British's behavior.

Zack smiled as he saw Lando walking towards him. “Are you already tired of feeling love in the air?” He says in order to tease him, which works. “Stop with that, I don’t care if I’m in a relationship or not.” What a lie. Zack knows his driver is lying, but he doesn't bother him more than that, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“So, how are things going at Ferrari?” Lando asks to quickly change the subject, not wanting to face another charade about his catastrophic dating situation. The two men then turn towards the Ferrari garage, where they can see the two drivers and the mechanics. "They look like they have a really good car, that's all I can tell you. But that doesn't mean-"

But it's too late, the British Mclaren driver no longer listens to his boss. As the Ferrari mechanics and strategists set to work, he saw among this small crowd Charles alongside a girl. At first glance, he thought it was his girlfriend. But upon closer observation, the woman, who is facing away, has a little shorter hair and is smaller in stature. And her hair color reminds him of her.

The girl he's been hopelessly in love with for 8 years now. But it can't be real, right? Why would you be here at the free practice sessions, and even more so accompanied by Charles Leclerc? His eyes must surely be hallucinating. But that silhouette from behind reminds him so much of you. But he tries to reassure himself. Or rather convince himself that there are so many brown girls in the paddock that he has confused you with someone else.

“Are you still listening to me or not?” Zack's serious voice rang in his ears. "Uh, yeah, sorry..." "You must need some time alone, I think" A mocking but concerned smile takes its place on Zack's face. “Yes, I think I need a little rest, excuse me” Lando smiles at him with difficulty before his boss goes further away.

The driver takes a deep breath. He can't help but look away at Charles and that girl. The more he looks, the more he feels like he's going back 8 years and seeing the girl he loves in front of him. He needs to know. He needs to be reassured and to be sure if this girl is really you.

And as if fate had heard it, the woman disappears from the garage, and seems to be heading to the paddock. So the British guy doesn't miss this chance and almost runs behind her to follow her. A few people give him confused and questioning looks, but he continues to pursue this dark-haired woman who hypnotizes him.

As he gets closer to you, his heart beats harder and harder. He feels like he's going to burst out of his chest and this feeling of stress eating away at him makes him want to vomit. Because he is realizing that he may have found his first love again. His eternal childhood crush.

That all those nights lost looking for you on social medias, trying to find your account and reconnect with you may not have been in vain. That all those nights lost thinking about you for a long time before falling asleep may not have been wasted in vain. That all these memories of you that he replays in his head finally make sense.

So, he goes for it without a second’s hesitation. "Excuse me ?" He speaks a little hesitantly, afraid of ending up with a woman who doesn't know him. But when the girl turns around, her brown hair flowing in the air, her eyes meeting his, Lando's heart skips several beats.

He finally found you.

The look of shock and surprise on your face mirrors Lando’s perfectly. Neither of you knows how to react, so you stay stuck like this for what seems like an eternity. But it is during this moment that the air suddenly seems changed. As if a connection, which once existed, was finally present again. As if an invisible link had finally reconnected between you, and united you for eternity. This change in atmosphere makes Lando's heart beat a little harder.

It seems unreal. So unreal that he thinks he's dreaming for a moment. For years, he never stopped thinking about you. To wonder what had become of you, what you looked like. And here you are now in front of him, more radiant than ever. This supernatural trance finally breaks when you decide to speak.

"Lando?!...Lando!!" You can't help but smile with all your teeth, a smile so sincere and strong. And oh God he suffered so much for the last eight years without being able to admire your magnificent smile. He adores it so much that he dreams of framing it in his memory forever. He knows how weak he becomes every time he gets the chance to admire your smile.

He can't help the big smile that comes over him as well. He feels so many emotions inside him that he feels like he's going to explode with happiness. "Y/n! Oh it's really you, I can't believe it!!" He can't even hide his joy and excitement, which makes you smile more, although it already seems impossible considering your cheeks already tired from just smiling.

“Me either, I feel like I’m in a dream” You admit, still a little surprised. “I didn’t think you were going to recognize me to be honest” You tell him, trying to contain your bomb of joy. “How could I not recognize you, when you are literally the most precious person to me?”

This simple sentence makes you blush violently, as you try to hide your embarrassment. “Uh- well it’s been 8 years since we last saw each other, so I doubt I’m still your favorite person” You laugh sweetly, and the sweet sound melts his heart. “So don’t doubt anymore, because you really are y/n” He addresses these few words to you while looking into yours.

And that's when he realizes how much you've changed. But changed in an incredibly beautiful way. You have kept this divine beauty which never fails to take his breath away. Your sweet facial features, that beautiful smile that he can't help but be obsessed with, and just simply your face that he could gaze at for hours and hours without ever getting tired of it.

You were already very beautiful when you were younger, when you were teenagers. But now you are infinitely more magnificent and resplendent. You look much more mature, and much more feminine. He has the impression of seeing an angel, a goddess before him. And that too has not changed, you remain for him the most beautiful woman he has ever met in his entire life.

The same goes for you. He's grown up so much, he's no longer the immature but adorable little Lando you loved so much before. Now he's a real man. He is more muscular, more virile but above all he has retained this eternal beauty and attractiveness. His beard makes him look a lot older too.

And then his hair. You teased him back then because he had trouble combing his hair. But these beautiful silky and shiny curls make you want and want to play with them, to caress them until they are messy enough for you to style them again.

“I see that my karting races have brought you to the wonderful world of Formula 1” The driver then says in order to hide the fact that he has been gazing at you for a few minutes now. You chuckle, before nodding. “Yeah, it must be said that a certain Lando Norris passed on his passion for motorsport to me” He lets out a little embarrassed laugh before turning his attention back to you.

"But Lando Norris was replaced by his opponent apparently. Bad luck." Lando's eyes land on the monegasque Ferrari driver who joins the conversation, right next to you. His tone turns colder as he stares at Charles. He can't help but feel a pang - or rather a big pang - of jealousy at the idea that you potentially replaced him with the monegasque driver.

Maybe your heart finally fell for Charles? Maybe in the end you always preferred him. He can't get these assumptions out of his head, because they haunt him now and just thinking about them makes him even more jealous. How come you're as close to Charles as you once were to Lando?

"Wow, what a reunion! Y/n told me how you were best friends before" Charles smiles kindly, and Lando seems surprised by his words. “Did she really tell you?” He asks suddenly. You clear your throat, embarrassed by what you told your friend about your relationship with the Brit.

"Yes, she told me so many things about you. That you were her favorite boy - and still are, that she loved spending time with you so much, that she really found you adorable and cute-” “Hey shut up!!” You beg Charles, placing the palm of your hand over his mouth.

Lando feels himself blush violently upon hearing Charles' words. Is this really true? “Do you think I’m cute ?” He teases you gently, but you feel even more embarrassed that you end up pressing your hands to your cheeks to hide the already terribly apparent red color.

"And that's not all, I still forgot lots and lots of things... anyway, I'll leave you, work awaits me again" Charles ends up patting the Mclaren driver on the shoulder, before to give you a smile and walk away.

A silence falls for a moment. The atmosphere has suddenly changed, it's more tense. But tense because you now know that a more than ambiguous and friendly feeling has settled between you. Tension paralyzes you as you fight the urge to jump into each other's arms.

Lando finally clears his throat before looking into your beautiful eyes. “How did you meet Charles?” “I’m a friend of his girlfriend, and she introduced us.” You respond simply, staring at him intently. Until you notice that his eyes no longer support your gaze but attack your lips.

It makes you think of that moment. And it makes him think of that moment too.

He stared intently at your pink lips. He wonders if he can. If he has the right. If he can taste them again. To move his lips on yours, to see if they are as soft as they seem.

To relive this moment. This moment, which is undoubtedly the most beautiful of his memories, and even more the most beautiful day of his life.

-

England was probably now one of your favorite destinations. Maybe because you found your confidant there, your best friend, this boy as adorable as he was immature who dreamed of being a Formula 1 driver. But all good things come to an end, and you already knew that destiny had to separate your paths. That these two months of vacation spent alongside Lando will only be distant but happy memories of your adolescence, and that you will perhaps end up watching him race on TV, being only a spectator and no longer his childhood best friend.

Lando knew it too. He knew that you had to return to your homeland, because after all England was only the destination your parents had chosen for the summer holidays. But his heart was breaking, suffocating at the idea of letting you go, when he had just accepted the fact that you were for him, potentially the woman of his life. You couldn't suppress the feeling of apprehension and sadness, as each minute that passed reminded you of how much time you would miss, passing by at a crazy speed.

Sitting on large rocks on the beach, you both admired the beautiful sunset that was falling on this last day of vacation. Tomorrow, a new chapter would begin. So you wanted to fully enjoy your last moments with your secret lover, because you might never meet him again. Silence reigned, peacefully, while the sound of the insolent waves lulled your ears with a bitter melody. You hoped you could slow down time, or rather extend it, because he seemed so stingy and selfish about giving you a little more to even exchange your unspoken thoughts.

Suddenly, you felt the boy's gaze on you, a gaze so intense that you had to turn your head away to look at him the same way. A mischievous smile appeared on his thin lips, as he opened his mouth to say a few words to you. “You promised me a gift if I won my kart race. I’m still waiting for it, Y/n.” His eyes filled with mischief and impatience, as you remembered the promise you had made to him. He had won his karting race earlier in the day, and you had promised him a gift if he managed to win it. However, you didn't think it would be so easy, since you had secretly chosen a rather... surprising gift.

A kiss. Not on his cheek, his forehead, or even his temple. No, it was more than just a childish, awkward kiss. A real, quick kiss on his lips. You thought about it because, although you sincerely believed in Lando's phenomenal abilities, you didn't think he would end up on the top step of the podium so easily and quickly. And now you're in trouble. Lando continues to stare at you mischievously, still impatient to discover your precious gift. Your brain was no longer able to function, your heart was speeding up. Did you really have to go for it? Take the plunge and place your lips on his?

Lando's impatience and waiting were more evident, while you were still panicking inside. And then, that's when you understood. That there was only him in your heart, and that there was only one chance. Only one life to live it to the fullest, without regretting anything. That worst case scenario, you'll go home the next day, forgetting this stupid promise and action. That in the end, this vacation, this boy, and this kiss, will remain engraved as the most beautiful adolescent chapter of your life, and that you will remember it with full joy and nostalgia.

Then the next second, Lando was surprised to feel a pair of lips on his. The kiss only lasted a short second, yet long enough for him to feel a bunch of different emotions. His heart felt like it was stopping, just as his brain was trying to properly process what had just happened. A powerful, strange but sweet feeling came over the young British man. He had just received his first kiss, and even more so from the girl he loved desperately. As you pulled back to look into his eyes, his looked back at you, confused. But because he understood.

He understood that this was love. That he was destined to remain faithful to you, for the rest of his life, because that kiss was the promise that his heart would belong to you forever.

-

It's been a little over a week now since you and Lando got together. And these last few days have been filled with nostalgia, reunions and above all strong and intense emotions. After the Jeddah race, Lando asked you to spend time together. Finally, he secretly wanted to insinuate that he wanted to spend every minute of his time by your side. Like before, like eight years ago.

He had finally found his childhood crush, the woman he considered the love of his life, and so he wasn't going to let her escape so easily. Especially since this reunion made him rekindle these deep feelings that he had not lost, but balked at because he had come to the conclusion that he will never find you again. However, talking to you again, spending time with you made him feel the love he had for you, but so much more intense, so much stronger and more powerful.

He's never felt like this before with any other girl, he's never seen himself in this state. Completely and obsessively in love, desperate to receive your attention and stay with you. Finding you was a sentimental blow to him, while he found himself lost forever in your heart. Finding you sealed his heart in your hands for eternity.

“It was a great day.” You hasten to say as a pretty smile takes place on your face. The driver looks at you lovingly, as he nods his head in approval. “Especially when I beat you at karting. It was the best moment of the day” He teases you and you stare at him. "I drove into the barrier because you hit my kart with yours. It doesn't count" You try to defend yourself.

“It doesn’t matter, I still won.” He adds as you sit side by side on the warm sand of the beach. “Still as narcissistic as back then” You roll your eyes but don’t hide that teasing smile on your face. “Still the same Lando Norris that you loved so much” He adds, his eyes scanning the horizon in the distance.

You swallow with difficulty, a lump in your throat. “Loved uh…” You whisper to yourself. Raising your head, you are greeted by the sunset. A pretty sunset, the same one that accompanied you on that last day of vacation eight years ago. You can't help but feel this feeling of nostalgia, of happiness.

It's exactly the same pretty frame, and the same boy by your side. It reminds you so much of that beautiful day long ago. Your heart warms at the thought. You finally found the man you love so much, and you couldn't be happier than right now.

The waves play the same melody, but this time the melody is more beautiful. Brighter and strangely romantic. As you gaze at the clouds in the distance, you feel Lando's intense gaze on you. Exactly the same look he gave you back then. Then, as if you were rehearsing the same scene, like a play that you are performing to perfection, you turn around to lock your gaze with his.

And there, that famous mischievous smile takes over his lips. Eight years later, he has the same look, this smile that changed everything. "You forgot your promise again, like back then. I'm still waiting for it, y/n" His words hit you like a bomb. Because they are exactly the same ones he said to you the day you made that stupid promise to him. This stupid gift.

And as if you weren't stupid enough, you secretly thought of the same gift. You internally promised yourself that you would give him the same kiss if he managed to beat you in karting. And he did it, as if he had put all his soul into the race to deserve this surprise gift from you. You feel helpless as the same panic takes hold of you. Everything seems so unreal. This sweet memory will finally happen again.

You see his eyes drop to your lips for a split second. But it's that split second that changes everything about you. Now you know it's for life. That you found the boy of your heart, that you will never leave him again, even if he doesn't feel the same way as you. That you only have one life to regret nothing, and this childhood kiss you have never regretted. So you never want to regret it.

You smile shyly, and without him being able to do anything, you crash your lips onto his. Lando's eyes widen, but he finally realizes what's happening. And he doesn't wait any longer to move his lips to yours. But this time the kiss is totally different. It is no longer innocent and shy like it used to be. It's no longer a little kiss between two teenagers who promised each other a gift.

No, this time it's much more romantic. More intense, deep and passionate. It's so comforting and sweet. This kiss is the fruit of the unconditional love he feels for you. So, he continues to deepen the kiss, his hand delicately cupping your cheek while his arm comes around your waist.

He licks your bottom lip with his tongue before nibbling it gently, letting you completely devote yourself to him. He continues to kiss you passionately, but yet it's not vulgar or crude. It's a soft and pleasant kiss, where only love is exchanged between your lips.

You finally broke the kiss by pulling back, a shy smile matching your pink cheeks perfectly. He opens his eyes, a silly smile on his lips before quickly pecking your lips again. You stay like that for a moment, admiring each other for a long time, love in your eyes.

"I'm so fucking in love with you, baby. Not since yesterday, not since last week, no. Since ages ago, for so long that I've stopped counting." You smile at him tenderly, your cheeks still pink. "Me too, Lando. I've loved you since we first met."

He smiles wider as his arms pull you a little closer to him. "You know, you're the girl who stole my first kiss. And you're also the only girl who managed to steal my heart. My heart has been yours for eight years, since the very moment you took me kissed." You can’t help but giggle, which melts Lando’s heart. “I thought you stopped counting.” He scratches the back of his neck, somewhat embarrassed. “Let’s just say I kept counting because I was desperate to know when I was going to find the woman I love.”

In the meantime he leaned over you, until you were lying on the soft sand. “Every day you were gone was like a bullet in my chest.” “What a romantic, I’m almost going to get emotional” You tease, a mocking laugh coming from you. “Still as teasing as before” He adds, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"For eight years, you were the only girl who never stopped staying anchored in my thoughts. From our first kiss, my heart already belonged to you, and it will continue to be yours for the rest of my life. I never wanted any other girl but you, and I waited so long for you that I'll never let you go. I love you so much, sweetheart” His words warm your heart, as you gently caress his face with your thumbs. “I’m completely in love with you too, Lan.” And in these last words, he rushes to kiss you again.

You feel like eight years ago, like the two idiots in love who stole their first kiss. Nothing has changed except the reality that reminds you that your love is bound for eternity, and that it will continue to exist because it is deeper and more passionate every day. That this is the present moment, and that your hearts are finally filled with happiness to have been able to find their other half, after so many years of desperately continuing to live without the presence of the other.

[storiesandthoughtsf1]

It’s complicated

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x f!reader

Summary: You and Lewis are best friends and roommates. Okay maybe you’re also a bit into each other, but you have a boyfriend, even though he’s not exactly the nicest person. Everything was fine, but what will happen after you and Lewis let into your desires one night?

Warnings: 18+ !! unprotected piv sex, cheating technically, toxic boyfriend, mention of breeding kink, age gap, both reader and lewis are a bit questionable, the boyfriend is outright toxic, message me if I messed up anything, read at your own risk!

Word count: 4,1K

Author’s note: yeahhh even though the boyfriend’s definitely the most toxic, I can’t say Lewis or reader is entirely innocent. Also please note english isn’t my first language!

There’s a part 2 if you guys want it!

The sound of footsteps walking down the stairs was heard, as Lewis stood in the kitchen of his house, making breakfast. Roscoe, his dog, reacted on the footsteps as well, and happily ran towards the noise, leaving his owner’s side. The Brit looked up as a figure appeared in the kitchen, and he was met by your tired looking face, your glasses sitting far down on your nose. Your hair was ruffled, a few pieces framing your face. “Morning,” you spoke up, clearly bothered by the light coming in through the windows, squatting down to greet the dog who was jumping up and down. Lewis smiled warmly at the exchange between you and his dog, finishing up his breakfast. When you got up from the floor, the brunette noticed your shirt, that he thought looked weirdly familiar. At last he realised the shirt belonged to himself, figuring you must have grabbed it by accident. Yet it still made his heart tingle, feeling his cheeks grow hotter. Damn you looked good in his shirt. “Good morning,” he responded after a while, taking a bite of his toast. Finally he was allowed a cheat meal, after some long weeks of working.

While tea was getting ready, Lewis and you stayed in the kitchen together, Roscoe eating away in the corner, the Brit just having filled his bowl. “Do you have any plans today?” Lewis asked curiously, his elbows resting on the kitchen island, fiddling with the cup he had in hand. You shook your head after having thought for a while. “No I don’t think so,” you answered, taking the kettle when it beeped, indicating that the water was boiling. “Why?”

That made Lewis take in a sharp breath, almost choking on nothing, as he thought for a moment. He couldn’t just say the truth. After having lived with you for six months now, the crush he had developed on you had gotten significantly worse. But you had had financial problems, and he didn’t regret letting you move in. Yeah, you were friends, co-workers even, but nothing more. No matter how badly he wanted to be more, you weren’t. Because you had a boyfriend. Lewis wanted to say he was happy for you, that he was happy you were happy, but he couldn’t say that. He was weak. Seeing you with another man broke him, and it was rather difficult to avoid your boyfriend since you lived together. That’s what made Lewis love the race weekends even more, because there your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen, and he had you for himself. No other man looking at him suspiciously, wanting you away from him.

“I found this really nice vegan restaurant, so I was wondering if you wanted to go there together,” he asked, trying to calm his nerves, that had appeared for no reason whatsoever. Yet it didn’t seem like you had noticed his state, as you just smiled at his invitation.

“She has plans tonight,” suddenly a voice appeared behind you, and you turned around to see your boyfriend stand in the doorway, without a shirt on. Lewis rolled his eyes at the scene, thinking your dear boyfriend made the situation seem so dramatic. You looked confused at the blonde man who had made a surprising entrance, not remembering making plans with him. “We made plans?” You asked in confusion, crossing your arms over your chest. “Since when?”

“Since thirty seconds ago,” the younger Brit said cockily, his eyes snapping towards Lewis when he heard a scoff coming from him. “Do you have a problem with it, old man?” The blonde asked, which made you look at him angrily. “Connor!” You snapped at him sternly, not understanding why he suddenly had an attitude towards your roommate. It was no secret that Connor wasn’t very fond of Lewis, something that you didn’t quite understand why. Lewis had never been anything but sweet, as he always was, but there was just something. Not that Lewis seemed to like your boyfriend that much either, but he was quieter about it. He was at least trying to be more accepting.

It was obvious that Connor was actually waiting for Lewis to answer, and when you turned to look at the older Brit, your eyes said everything. He knew you didn’t want him to answer, but Lewis wasn’t in the mood for your boyfriend’s little outbursts today, so he ignored your silent prayer. “My problem is you, man,” he said before taking another bite of his toast and walking his way out of the room. As he walked by the blonde haired man, his face showed no emotion, passing right by in the most annoying way possible.

Connor looked furious when he turned his eyes back to you, after Lewis had disappeared from sight. Even Roscoe had went with him. “Why do you live with that guy, he’s a fucking prick!” The younger Brit complained, you sighing deeply, not in the mood to be having that discussion. Again.

“He’s my best friend,” you answered, which was indeed true. Lewis was your best and closest friend, and he meant everything to you. In your darkest times he had been there, supporting and comforting you even with his crazy schedule. For multiple months he was the only reason for you to wake up every day and decide to do something, and his support made you wake up with a smile every day. Just his name comforted you at this point. He meant everything to you, and not even a boyfriend was going to ruin your relationship with Lewis, because thanks to him, you were still alive and well. “He’s more than ten years older than you for fucks sake! Who in their late thirties would want to be best friends with a 26 year old and not want to bone her?” Connor was shouting at this point, and you knew that Lewis who seemed to be sitting in the living room, would for sure hear the conversation.

You crossed your arms at his shouting, and tilted your head to the side as you narrowed your eyes, a habit you had picked up from Lewis whenever you were unhappy with a response. “Did you really just say that?” You asked him, immediately making the blonde shut up as he realised what tone you were using.

“I’ll pick you up at five, and then we’ll go out to dinner okay?” Suddenly his tone was totally different, as he was back to his gentle and calm self. A smile had even come to his lips as he spoke, reaching out to put his hands on your hips. You sighed deeply, slowly nodding. “Alright,” you forced a smile on your face, letting him wrap an arm around you, and pull you in for a kiss. Though the kiss wasn’t especially romantic or passionate, it was more like he was marking his territory.

And that annoyed the shit out of you.

Five soon turned to six, and when the time neared seven, Connors phone still going directly to voicemail, you realised that he had indeed stood you up. Lewis was in the background looking at you worried, wondering what he could do. When you broke down and slid to the floor crying, he knew he had waited too long, and reached you quickly with long steps. Squatting down, he gently put a hand on your knee, getting you to look up at him. “Don’t think about that idiot, he’s not worth your time.”

Somehow Lewis’ words hit you hard, and you nodded slowly at his words as he moved to sit beside you. His hand quickly found yours, and you intertwined your fingers, leaning your body against his. “You deserve so much better than him,” Lewis admitted as you had sat in silence for a while, him rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand. In response you rested your head on his shoulder, letting out a breath you hadn’t realised you had been holding. “Is there anything you want?” Lewis asked when you stayed quiet, resting his head on top of yours, looking out into the house. For a while it got quiet again, the Brit letting you take your time to find the right words. “Just sit with me,” you mumbled, but Lewis heard, and he nodded. “I will,” he promised you, turning his head to place a soft kiss to your hair, closing his eyes for a second as he did so.

Your sweet scent was filling his nostrils by being this close to you, and it calmed him down. At first he wanted to punch Connor for standing you up, but right now all he wanted to do was to be there for you. Like he should. Now all he needed was that you realised who was actually there for you, while the other one was being ruthless and irresponsible.

The two of you sat like that for over half an hour, your breathing slowly quieting down. Through the time you had began to let go, and lean more into your friend, you now basically laying against him. He liked having you this close to him though. “Do you want to sit on the couch or anything?” Lewis asked as he felt himself growing a bit numb from sitting on the floor with your weight pressing against him. In a slow and small motion you nodded, which led to Lewis getting up from the floor and holding his hand out for you to take it. At last you both sat down on the incredibly comfortable couch in the house, you again not hesitating to cuddle into Lewis’ side. With a smile plastered on his face, Lewis threw a blanket over you, his arm going around your shoulders. This time your head dropped to his chest, holding onto the material of his sweatshirt.

“Why did he stand me up?” You mumbled so quietly that Lewis almost didn’t hear it, but he did, and took a deep breath, you holding onto him tighter as his chest rose and fell. “Because he’s a coward,” Lewis answered, his voice soft and quiet as yours had been, feeling that he would break the suddenly trance you had found yourselves in if he talked louder. Gently raising your head, you looked up at the Brit who held you tight to him. At your action he looked down at you, to show the seriousness in his eyes. His heart almost broke at seeing your red puffy eyes staring up at him, and all he wanted to do was hug you tight.

For some time there was just silence, as you studied his face, for what had started as checking to see his seriousness, but turned at you caught his eyes. His beautiful, beautiful dark chocolate brown eyes that drew you in, getting lost in the sea of him. Even looking down at you from that angle he looked absolute perfect, facial features soft yet serious. Had he always looked so good? Yes, of course he had, but why did you notice it now?

“You deserve someone better, someone who knows how to treat you right,” Lewis continued, eyes still locked on each other, you slowly getting up from your position on him awkwardly, still trying to stay as close to him as humanly possible. For a moment you could have sworn that Lewis’ eyes darted down towards your lips, but when you double checked his eyes were on yours again, and you wondered if you had just imagined it. If you just wanted it to be that way. But when you saw it again, it made you believe that it maybe wasn’t your imagination, but you were in fact seeing right.

Without realising, the two of you had subconsciously moved closer to each other, now only inches apart. Your hands still had their grip on his shirt, fingers holding onto the material, tightening the hold when you felt his hand rest on your thigh. Your eyes shot up to his when you felt his lips brush against yours, your heart beat picking up at the touch. Your breath hitched a slight, Lewis’ other hand coming to rest on your cheek.

Before you knew it, he had pulled you in, placing his lips softly on yours. Both his and your eyes fluttered shut, leaning closer to each other, hands gripping onto whatever they could reach. Your fingers curled around the material of his sweater when he deepened the kiss, moving his head slightly to the side to get a better angle. His soft lips felt heavenly on yours, all worries floating away at the new sort of exchange between the two of you.

At last you broke away from each other, leaning your forehead against his. A breathless chuckle left your already swollen lips your eyes staying closed. Lewis chuckled lightly as well, his mind going a hundred miles per second, surprised by what was going on. But before he could even begin to understand what was happening, you had leaned in again, connecting his lips with yours.

This time you let a hand rest on the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. In the process you tugged at his hair that was free in a bun, a small moan escaping him before he could stop it. For a second he was afraid you would pull away, but you didn’t, in fact the sound seemed to motivate you further, gripping the back of his neck again, making the Brit smile into the kiss.

His brain was slowly coming to terms with what was happening, yet the consequences of said action, was long forgotten. And not only in his mind, but in yours too. Kissing Lewis felt so right, more right than kissing had ever felt, so you didn’t think about your boyfriend, you didn’t even think about the fact that you had a boyfriend. All that mattered in that second was Lewis.

Grabbing you by the waist, Lewis got you turned around, slowly laying you down on the couch, hovering above you, with his body between your legs. Again he dove in, moving his kisses from your mouth, to down your jawline and further down to your neck. You held his head flush against you, eyes staying shut just enjoying the moment. When Lewis found an especially sensitive spot along your pulse, you let a quiet whimper leave your lips, Lewis’ body responding immediately by pressing himself closer to you.

As his kisses went further down to your collarbone, he didn’t even think as he swung off his own shirt, and helping you getting yours off too, throwing them down onto the floor. You saw the smirk appearing on his face when he sat on his knees above you, looking down at you who laid beneath him. Without saying more, he swung his body off the couch, grabbing your hand to swing you up too. You crashed into his naked chest, not getting more than a second before he pressed his lips to yours again.

“Jump,” he just got to mumble between kisses, tapping the back of one of your thighs. Obeying what he said, you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist, giggling as he held onto you. Your kisses continued as Lewis clumsily made his way upstairs and into his bedroom. At last he stopped in front of his large bed, pulling away from you so that he could admire your features. Your swollen lips and rose coloured cheeks made him bite his lip, feeling his sweatpants grow tighter around him. Trying to be as gentle as possible, Lewis got you laid down onto the mattress, and you crawled up towards the backboard with a smile. With a cheeky smile the Brit let his sweatpants fall to the ground, crawling his way up to where you were lying, hovering above you once again.

He kissed his way down your collarbone, reaching your still clothed chest. Looking up at you, you quickly realised he was asking for permission to remove your bra. With a little nod sent his way the clothing got removed, Lewis’ mouth and hands exploring the curves of your body. He traveled further down south in a slow and smooth motion, leaving open mouth kisses everywhere he went. At last he reached the hem of your pants, that he quickly got off you, leaving you only in your underpants.

Automatically you tried to shield yourself so that he couldn’t see you in such a vulnerable state. Though at your action, he let his hands rest softly on your thighs, looking deep into your blue eyes. “You’re beautiful, so damn perfect” he assured you, slowly pushing your thighs apart, in the speed that you would allow him. Kisses were pressed to your thighs too, him definitely spending more time there than anywhere else.

At last he got up to where you were slowly admitting you needed him the most, and he with a bit of hesitation pressed a kiss to your clothed core. Your back arched slightly at the touch, feeling desperate for relief already. “Oh fuck,” you breathed out, Lewis taking the hint and sliding your panties down your legs slowly. Without anything else to do, Lewis’ lips connected to your core, lapping through your folds. You moaned out his name at the feeling, hands immediately grabbing onto his hair to keep him down. Lewis smirked into your core at the sound of you moaning his name, sucking gently on your bundle of nerves. Neither of you thought about how inappropriate the whole situation was, because after so long of denying and hiding feelings, it felt good to be with the other. Finally letting into your desires, realising that you didn’t think of each other as just friends.

It didn’t take long before a finger slid into your pussy, making your back arch off the bed, gripping tighter onto the Brit’s hair, almost pulling him down into you. “Fuck,” you moaned at the feeling, feeling the build up to your release. Lewis added another finger, pumping them in and out of you while sucking on your clit. He knew you were close, it was obvious by the way you became louder, and gripped onto his hair tighter. The whole thing turned him on like crazy, and he took himself grinding his hips into the mattress to create some sort of that friction he was desperately craving.

“Fuck Lewis, yes just like that!” Your constant moans and whimpers spurred him on, his hips doing circular motions into the mattress as you finally stumbled over the edge, cumming with a moan, skin glittering in a thin layer of sweat.

It made you look majestic, Lewis thought.

The brunette kissed his way up to your lips again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as he kissed you deeply. You let your fingertips run down his chest, soon getting your way down to his boxers. In a slow motion you palmed him through his underpants, him freezing for a second as he groaned at your surprising action, wanting to feel it again as soon as you let your hands rest on his hips. Therefore he grinded his hips towards yours, letting out a softer groan this time, head moving to rest against your forehead.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked breathlessly, not sure if he could stop himself when you had begun. Of course he would stop, but right now he was so in need for you, that he felt like an animal hunting it’s prey. You nodded rapidly at his question, pulling him in for a kiss. “Yes.”

Lewis’ boxers got kicked off, and his length stood proudly against his abdomen, your eyes going wide at his size. Damn. You had a feeling that there was a chance you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow morning.

Lining up at your entrance, Lewis looked deep into your eyes before pushing in slowly. You squeezed your eyes closed at the burning feeling, but it didn’t hurt, so you held onto him, wanting him closer. At some point he stopped moving, and you thought that he was all the way in, his cock already filling your walls so perfectly. So just when you thought he was about to bottom out, he pulled further in, making you gasp. “Fuck you’re tight,” Lewis dropped his head to rest on your shoulder at the feeling of your walls around him. He began to set a slow but passionate pace, holding onto your thigh as he thrusted into you. Both of you had become moaning messes, but neither cared as you were too caught up in pleasure.

Good thing you lived just the two of you.

“Fuck Lewis, feels so good,” you praised him, immediately feeling him pick up his speed at the words, his lips diving to catch yours. But the kiss was soon broken off again as neither of you were in the state to concentrate about that. You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling him hit you even deeper at the new position. “Oh fuck yes,” Lewis moaned, his eyes rolling shut at the feeling of you around him, getting lost in his pleasure and slowly losing his rhythm.

His thrusts became sloppier, harder, faster, but you didn’t care. In fact you liked it, as you found it hot to watch him lose control in pleasure and just pound into you. “Who’s making you feel this good my love?” He leaned down to your ear, teasingly biting into your earlobe, feeling the way your body squirmed at the contact with his body.

“You,” you moaned out, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him as close to you as you possibly could. “Only you.” You promised him.

That made Lewis lose all little rational and bits of control he had left, thrusting into you at a rapid pace, while his fingers went to circulate your clit. “Are you close darling?” The pet names only made you edge closer to your release, you nodding frantically at his question, a moan escaping you short after. “Good, me too,” Lewis told you, his eyes looking for yours, but seeing them shut close in pleasure. “Look at me while you cum love,” he told you, your eyes shooting open as you found his warm brown ones.

Him circling your clit while thrusting into you, and his soft brown eyes made you tip over the edge, coming with a loud moan, holding further onto him. At the feeling of your walls clenching around him, he came too, his load spilling into you, not even thinking about the consequences, that choice could make.

He crashed down onto your chest, chests heaving and lowering rapidly, desperately trying to catch your breaths. Lewis rolled onto your side, for a second just looking up into the ceiling as he processed what had just happened. You did as well, yet your boyfriend was still forgotten all about. All that was on your mind was Lewis. His scent, the feeling of him, and the pleasure he could give you. His eyes, his smile, the little gab between his front teeth. Every little detail about him clouded your mind.

“Let me get something to clean you up with,” Lewis was the first one to speak up, gently fighting his way out of the bed, walking out of the room totally naked, not caring to get a single piece of clothing. Not long after he reappeared with a wet cloth, gently wiping you with it, and focusing a lot on your thighs that had some of his cum drip out. He wiped your thighs with a smile, afterwards throwing the cloth into the bathroom, and lying back in bed with you.

Your eyes were heavy, sleep taking over already. Lewis noticed your state, and placed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Good night darling,” he whispered into your ear, tugging you in carefully, making sure the duvet was covering you properly. You couldn’t help but smile a little at his action, finding it adorable. For a few minutes he just watched you, seeing sleep take over and falling into dreamland. He smiled widely the entire time, cheeks hurting at this point, heart fluttering as he felt more happy than ever.

Had his deepest desire been heard?

It didn’t take long before Lewis fell sleep as well, having put his arm around your waist to pull you close to him.

Neither of you had thought about the consequences tomorrow would bring.

———————————————

Feedback is much appreciated!<3

[spider-stark]

SPIDER-BOY

Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader

Summary - Thinking he has no chance with y/n as himself, Peter begins approaching them as Spider-Man.

friendly reminder - the best way to support writers on Tumblr is to reblog their work or comment <3:)

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

Two months. 

That was how long it had been since Peter first indulged in his ridiculous idea of talking to you under the guise of Spider-Man. Of course he hadn’t meant for it to last this long, promising himself that it was just to help him build his confidence–maybe even learn a bit about what kind of things you liked–so that he could actually ask you out as himself. Unfortunately, though, things hadn’t gone quite as he had planned. 

Spider-Man offered him a type of courage that he just wasn’t able to muster as Peter Parker. Under the cover of his mask he was able to come across as easy-going and flirtatious, never failing to leave your cheeks a deep crimson from the playful banter. Yet, when he did manage to speak to you as plain ole’ Peter, all of that was suddenly lost on him, leaving him a complete and total bumbling mess. As far as he was concerned, Peter Parker had no chance to be what any girl wanted, especially you. But Spider-Man was a different story.

And so he continued to exploit Spider-Man, using the masked hero as a means to continue getting closer to you, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to hide behind his secret identity forever. To be fair, he would rationalize to himself, Spider-Man had taken a lot from him, it was only fair that he got something in return. 

Plus, the interactions had been mostly innocent. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself, opting to ignore the many times that coy attitudes began to border on actual sexual attraction. He tried not to think about those times (though there had been many nights where he purposely let those interactions slip into his mind, reliving them from the privacy of his bedroom), instead just promising himself that he wouldn’t let his romantic escapades as Spidey go too far. 

“So,” your voice filled his ears, his heart skipping a few beats at the sound, “at what point should I start to wonder if you’re stalking me?” 

Peter chuckled at the question, his fingers gripping the railing of the balcony to your apartment, effortlessly hanging from it. “Do you feel like I’m stalking you?” 

“Hm,” you placed a finger against your chin, pretending to be deep in thought, evoking even more laughter from the boy. “Maybe a bit.” 

“Oh yeah? What did I do to give that impression?” 

“Well, to be fair, you’re currently dangling a couple hundred feet in the air off the side of my balcony.” You told him matter-of-factly, gesturing to where he was still hanging from the railing. 

His brows furrowed beneath his mask, an expression that was barely noticeable due to the fabric covering his face. “And that makes me a stalker? I thought you’d find it romantic, a sort of Romeo-and-Juliet moment.” 

“Romeo threw pebbles at her window, he didn’t scale an entire apartment building dressed in spandex.” You reminded him, “But, actually, it’s more so that I don’t remember ever giving you my address.” 

Peter froze for a moment, having not thought about the fact that your previous run-ins with Spider-Man had always been in public spaces–catching you after work or just happening to bump into you on the street while patrolling–never at your home. He only knew where you lived because you had told him, but as Peter Parker, not Spider-Man, when the two of you were assigned to a project together last week. He mentally face-palmed at his own ignorance. 

“Superheroes keep up with where all the pretty girls live. One of the lesser-known parts of the job.” He quipped, hoping that flattery would keep you from thinking too much into it. You only rolled your eyes at the comment, luckily not pressing any further. 

“So what did I do to deserve a surprise Spidey visit this time?” You hummed, leaning back against the cold brick of your apartment building.  

Peter hoisted himself over the edge of the balcony so that he was standing across from you, his arms finally beginning to ache from holding up his bodyweight for so long. “What, I’ve gotta have a reason to stop by and see my favorite civilian?” 

“Civilian?” You snorted. “And here I was thinking you and I were friends.” 

He dramatically placed his hands on either side of his face, feigning shock at your words, “Oh God no! You and me? Friends?” he let his hands fall to his waist, an exaggerated breath leaving his mouth, “No, not at all. I think that would be a conflict of interest.” 

You cocked a brow at him, “How so?” 

“I mean–I just think it would really interfere with our whole superhero slash damsel-in-distress routine, ya know?” 

“Damsel-in-distress?” You gasped incredulously at the claim, though the corners of your mouth were still quirked up in a smile. 

Peter nodded, “Uh, yeah. That’s literally our whole thing, isn’t it? You constantly running into trouble, me swinging in and saving your life.” 

“You haven’t had to save my life once Spider-Boy.” Peter scoffed at the name, acting like he was insulted. 

“Oh c’mon!” Peter dragged the word out, practically whining as he took a fraction of a step towards you, the movement enough to leave only a few inches between the both of you due to how small the balcony was. “You are literally always getting yourself into danger.” 

“Okay,” You crossed your arms over your chest, craning your neck so that you could actually look up at him, the masked vigilante having several inches on you, “give me an example then.” 

Peter rolled his eyes, a gesture only evident by the dramatic way his head moved along with them. He reached a gloved hand to your face, letting his fingertip gently brush against the semi-healed cut along your forehead. “You literally got this by tripping over your own shoes and banging your head against the counter at a coffee shop. Not to mention the fact that you spilled your entire coffee on yourself in the process.” He trailed away from the cut, moving to brush a stray hair behind your ear. He didn’t take his hand away, though, letting it rest against the side of your face. “You are always in danger because you are the danger.” 

Your eyes widened for a moment, so quick that he didn’t even notice the reaction. He was right, you had done that, an unfortunate consequence of being the clumsiest person alive. But, still, his words left you confused; remaining silent for just a moment as you turned them over in your head. When you finally opened your mouth to speak you were cut off by the sound of distant sirens, a groan immediately coming from him, knowing that your interaction would now be cut short. 

His thumb brushed against your cheek, acting as an unnecessary silent apology. 

“Sounds like somebody needs Spider-Man.” You told him as he let his hand fall from your skin, forcing himself to the railing. If he didn’t go now, he wouldn’t leave at all. “You better hurry, it could be one of those pretty girls you keep tabs on.” You shot a teasing grin in his direction, referencing his earlier comment. 

“Ugh, they just never give me a day off.” He joked, swinging his feet over the balcony railing before gripping onto it and allowing himself to once again hang from it. “Try not to trip into anything dangerous until I’m back.” 

He turned his head and reached one hand out, likely to shoot a web at the building across from yours, but hesitated when he heard you speak again, a sudden panic filling his body at your words, “Be safe, Parker.” 

The sirens continued blaring, growing closer with each second, but all he could hear was the sound of his own heart wildly thumping against his chest. “What?” He sounded completely dumbfounded, his head slowly turning back to look at you, only to find you standing with your own finger pointing to the cut he had traced on your forehead, a wide grin on your face. 

“Spider-Man wasn’t there the day that I fell.” You shot a knowing glance in his direction, one that had his cheeks heating up. He had never been more thankful to be wearing a mask, aware that his face was likely beet red. “I asked Peter to meet me there so I could borrow his biology notes.” 

Peter didn’t speak, too stunned by his own stupidity for slipping up and not thinking about how he was there that day as himself, not Spider-Man. This time you were the one to take a step forward and close the gap between you, having to lean down just a bit in order to be face-to-face as he dangled from the railing. 

“You’re a lot more confident in the suit.” You mused, your hands finding the base of his mask, lightly tugging the material up to reveal his face. Even though it was dark out you could still see that he was blushing. “But I prefer you without it.” 

His jaw fell slack, words getting caught in his throat as a million thoughts raced through his mind, though one thought in particular was a lot louder than the rest: I prefer you without it. 

“You should definitely go.” The sirens were now close enough that you could actually see the faint red-and-blue lights a few streets over. He looked in the direction of them but still didn’t make a single move to leave. You seemed to recognize his hesitation, tugging the mask back down over his face. “If you ever remember how to talk then you can come back when you’re done. But ditch the mask.” 

Peter nodded at your words, his eyes remaining glued to you as you straightened back up, turning your back to him to go back inside your apartment–leaving him to go off and be a hero. Once you were inside he couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he forced himself to get into motion, swinging in the direction of the police lights. 

Turns out Peter Parker did have a chance.

[beardedjoel]

omg! could you do 13 please? either for young joel (tho ik you don’t right much for him) or closer joel or neither lol but 13 sounds so romantic omggg

thank you so much for the request! i decided to do it for closer joel and i had fun getting back into his headspace. i was feeling a little rusty after all this time 😆 i imagined this is their first getaway together the following winter after they started dating. i tried to balance sexy and romantic, since you said it sounds romantic, which it totally does!

snowed in — joel x f!reader

request: "being snowed in together and fucking in front of the fireplace". sent in as part of my 5k celebration! can be read as a standalone or with closer joel in mind.

wc: 2.5k words.

warnings: smut (pussy eating + piv), dirty talk, creampie, alcohol, soft dom! joel.

You chew your lip for the umpteenth time, staring out into the layers upon layers of frosty white blanketing the outside. Your own reflection stares back at you in the oversized picture window as you squint past it into the dark, watching fat snowflakes flurrying by. 

“Starin’ ain’t gonna make it go away any faster, angel,” a deep voice rumbles in your ear. Joel slides his arm around your waist as he presses up against your back. It does wonders to ease your growing anxiety, and when he places a full glass of wine into your hand, you feel it nearly dissipate. 

“But what about the rental? What if we can’t get out when we need to check out in a few days?” you ask, that little anxious squeak in your voice grating on your ears. You silently apologize to Joel, even though he’s heard it plenty of times before when your anxiety rears its ugly head.

“Already talked to the owner. She says it happens sometimes, it’s no big deal. Risk comes with the territory, I guess.” It makes sense, the cabin being way up in the mountains, and it truly was the romantic and peaceful getaway with your boyfriend you’d hoped for before the looming anxiety set in of being trapped by the snow.

“Now, can we enjoy our first time goin’ away together, or do you need more convincin’?” You knew that Joel’s version of convincing might involve the plush bed you’d seen in the loft upstairs and your favorite satin restraints packed away in your suitcase, so you keep it in the back of your mind.

You feel a small smile creep onto your lips, the two of you still facing the window together as you take a large sip from the glass of wine. “It is kind of pretty when you’re not outside in it. Peaceful…” you concede, trying to shake it off. The forecast had shown that tonight was the worst of it, so you might as well try to relax and enjoy this rare evening of complete solitude with Joel.

“Attagirl,” Joel murmurs, planting a kiss on your head. You shudder at the contact, suddenly overly aware of everywhere that his body touches yours. Joel notices - of course he notices - and presses closer, hugging you tight. “I got a fire goin’ in the other room, and more where this came from,” he tells you, tapping a finger to your glass. “So c’mon.”

You follow him wordlessly, his hand enveloping yours, and all is right in the world again. One thing you’ve learned with Joel is that if he isn’t worried about something, then you definitely don’t need to be. Half a bottle of wine later, lounged on the floor in front of the fireplace, you smile dazedly at Joel, who is walking back into the room after heating up a frozen pizza you two had gotten when you stocked up at the grocery store in town. You’d spent the last hour cuddled up on the couch, music playing softly through the speakers as you two reminisced about the last six months together and what was beyond. You couldn’t believe that finally after all this time, Joel had managed to get time away from his company to treat the two of you to the romantic getaway he'd been promising. It was already shaping up to be everything you’d imagined and more. 

Your eyes widen at the sight of the pizza, your stomach craving something to soak up the alcohol, and when the smell hits you, you’re a goner. “Shit, Joel, that smells incredible,” you say, sitting up. He sets the pizza on a nearby coffee table, putting a hand up for you to stop.

“Nuh-uh. Back down. You looked prettier than a picture like you were.” Joel’s eyes rake over you as you pause for a beat before laying back again, pulling your lip between your teeth in a shy yet mischievous smile, one you know drives him crazy. Your outfit leaves little to be desired - a fuzzy, comfortable shorts and tank top set, and with the way you’re sprawled out, you know your tits are probably spilling out the top. 

Joel stands above you, and your heart races at the imposing figure of him, the mystery of what he’ll choose to do to you next. Joel has always liked to take the reins, and you’ve always been happy to let him. He toes your legs further apart, moving them until you’re spread wide for him. You tease him, snapping them back shut immediately, eyes sparkling devilishly up at him.

“No, no, sweet girl,” Joel says, shaking his head. He grins coyly, sinking down to your level and pressing your legs all the way open, knees to the plush carpet beneath you. “Unless you didn’t want me to fuck you senseless… have you drippin… ” he drawls, watching you squirm, your gaze darkening with need. “...takin’ my cock ‘till you’re makin’ all those pretty sounds I like…”

One of said pretty sounds slips right past your lips without any thought, a small whimper as you glance down to where Joel kneels between your legs. Damn him for using his mouth so well before it’s even on you.

“N-no, I do, I do,” you blurt out breathlessly, eyes flicking to where he’s tenting in his sweatpants. He grins.

“Y’always make it too easy for me, baby.” His fingers hook into both your shorts and underwear, pulling them off and tossing them to the side. “So wet already, angel…” he muses, slipping his fingers through your folds, making your hips buck at the sensation. You want more, you need more. The stress of the day had a way of making you more needy, more desperate for a release, and you knew you’d find it right between Joel’s legs. “What was it you were thinkin’ about that got you so messy for me already, sweetheart?”

“N-nothing, just…”

He kisses your thigh on each side, letting his fingers continue to wander through your slick folds before asking, “Just what?”

You breathe out slowly, trying to contain yourself as he prods at your entrance, dipping a knuckle inside. “The restraints. I - I thought about you tying me up to the bed upstairs.”

Joel tilts his head, smiling. “I’m sure we can manage that. We got a long weekend ahead of us,” he coos, pulling his finger out, making you immediately miss even the tiniest bit of fullness from it. When he brings it to his lips, savoring your taste, it makes you feel feral.

“Need you, Joel…” you whine, watching him sink his head between your thighs. “N-no, your cock,” you say, watching him light up, smirking as he stares up at you, his face only inches from your bare pussy.

“What, and skip all the fun of hearin’ you beg me, beautiful girl?” He huffs out a chuckle, the air breezing over your swollen, sensitive cunt, making your hips twitch. That only seems to satisfy him more, now burying himself between your legs, his tongue quickly working in flicks over your clit. You gasp, pressing your hips into his face, unable to stop yourself from grinding down into his tongue. You’re already close - the wine running through your veins and relaxing you, the romantic setting giving you a head start on arousal the entire day, and the fact that your sexy boyfriend was so eager to be between your legs was a lethal combination. 

“Fuck. Please, Joel,” you beg him, your pussy fluttering, feeling devastatingly empty. “I’m - I’m gonna - Joel!” Your climax crashes into you, sneaking up quickly and coming on strong, making your hips buck and shake as Joel laps at your cunt all the way through, until you’re trembling and limp again.

His entire body smoothly glides upwards until he’s on top of you, his nose pressed against yours as he goes in for a kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips. His beard is wet with your arousal, and the sight of him - one you have seen your fair share of -manages to take your breath away. The flickering light of the fire reflects in his dark eyes, his hair messy and his smile lopsided and boyish, yet sexy at the same time. 

It slowly drops into a more serious expression, one hand coming to curl your hair behind your ear. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. You feel your cheeks grow hot under his attention and genuine compliment, even if you have lost count on the number of times Joel has said those exact words to you. A heart clenching, sentimental feeling grips you, making you feel like the luckiest girl alive to be here with him.

You reach up to touch his cheek, the air suddenly charged with something deeper, more romantic. It’s a tender kiss, one that turns heated quickly, but it’s full of reverence for the other, for the history you share together. A warmth grows inside of you, moving towards a fever pitch of need as you wrap your legs around Joel’s waist. 

“Joel,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering shut as he kisses your cheek, then your neck, tasting the salt of your skin, soaking up your desperation for him. “Please…”

He chuckles into your neck. “Drivin’ me crazy, angel. Makin’ the prettiest little sounds, bein’ such a good, patient girl for me.” When he grinds his hard cock against your center, you feel every ounce of patience you had completely vanish into thin air. All you can think about is getting closer, of feeling full of the man you love, letting him work your body in the way only he knows how to do. 

“You need it, sweet girl?” he asks cruelly as your hands grasp at the waistband of his sweats, and you nod furiously, panting. 

“I’ll do anything, j-just… Need you to fuck me.”

You know for as vocal as Joel is, he likes to hear you too, and your desperation sets him off. His cock is out the next second and your legs, already wrapped around him, draw him in deeper. When he pushes in, every inch right from the get go, you both look into each other’s eyes as you gasp and hiss through your teeth at the pleasure. 

“Never get tired of this,” Joel mumbles, quickly finding himself a rhythm, each movement guided by your legs matching his thrusts, hips bucking upwards to pull him deeper. “Already squeezin’ my cock so tight, babygirl, you gonna come already?”

You can only whine out a moan, nodding for him. You really were insanely close to coming again, Joel doing all the right things with his cock as his fingers skim over your skin, pushing up your tank top. He squeezes one of your tits as soon as they’re free of the fabric, and when his finger brushes over the stiff peak of your nipple, your eyes roll back.

“M-my god… f-fuck…” 

“So cock hungry, angel, so needy,” Joel grits out, pistoning his hips a little faster and sloppier, caught up in the moment. He groans when the change in pace makes lewd, squelching sounds ring out through the room. "So wet..." he mumbles, his eyes closing as he basks in his pleasure.

“Y-yes, fuck Joel, you feel so - so good.” Your back arches slightly, legs tense and trembling around him, the heat flickering in your belly now a roaring fire, pulsing through you. Right on the edge, so close to jumping off into that bliss, you cry out. “Don’t stop! Fuck - don’t stop!”

Joel, not missing a beat, hauls your legs from around his waist, placing your ankles on his shoulders, folding you inwards. He then pounds his hips quickly as he grabs onto yours, fingers digging into your flesh with a satisfying pain.

“You want to not be able to walk the rest of the weekend? Th-that it, baby? Want me to make it so you can’t do anythin’ but lay here and let me fuck you for days?” Joel huffs out, and you let out a strangled cry, your hands clawing at his thighs, trying to find purchase on something as you feel yourself about to lose control.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” you scream as Joel thrusts into you harshly at a pace that boggles your mind even after seeing everything this man was capable of in the bedroom. Your release sweeps you away, your vision turning to a blinding white bliss as your eyes squeeze shut and your hips lift off the ground, your entire body spasming. Joel is relentless, making sure to squeeze every last bit of pleasure as you moan so loud you’re surprised the roof hasn’t caved in.

You nearly sob as the tight grip of your climax suddenly lets go, your body completely drained. Joel quickly pulls out, his movements clunky and frenzied as he flips your limp body like you’re a doll. “Hands and knees, baby,” he commands.

You make a small noise of protest, your eyes heavy and limbs shaky. “I know. You gonna be a good girl and trust me to do what’s best for you?” You finally nod, holding yourself up by the elbows, your ass popped high up in the air for him. “That’s it,” Joel says smugly before plunging himself back into your sensitive cunt in one swift motion. You squeak out a sound as your pussy pulses around him, the lingering pleasure from your last high already flourishing into something new.

“One more,” Joel says, leaning a little closer, his hand skating up and down your spine as he pumps into you, landing his hand on the back of your neck. 

“C-can’t…” you whimper weakly, but Joel squeezes your neck slightest bit.

“You can. I know y’can. You’re doin’ so good, angel.” He reaches around to your swollen clit, rubbing circles that make you keen and pop your ass out further, getting him deep at this angle. You feel him hitting that perfect spot deep inside of you that makes you dizzy, makes you crazy every single time. Nearly crying at the oversensitivity, Joel somehow starts pulling another orgasm out of you, your moans quieter this time as your body shakes. You hear Joel’s pleased sounds, gruff little noises that tell you he’s close too as he praises you through your high.

“Oh, so good, pretty girl, s-so good…” he strains out, slamming his hips into yours once more, coming hard with a groan. He pulses inside of you and you keep your ass pressed back onto his hips, taking every bit of him. Feeling him like this is always such a rush, that tiny bit of power you get to take from Joel, making him fall apart for you even if just for a moment.

You collapse to the floor, giggling tiredly as your body gives out on you. Joel sidles up next to you, laying to face you with his head propped up on his hand, rubbing lazy circles on your skin. “Told ya you could do it,” he says smugly.

“Ass,” you say breathlessly, laughing as you roll over to your back, clutching at your stomach. “I’m starving. Now can we have some pizza?”

“Knock yourself out,” Joel replies, watching you crawl to the coffee table, not even seeming to care about the mess dripping out of you and down your thighs - food was your primary mission right now. It makes Joel feel his dick twitch all over again as he tucks it away, knowing he won’t be able to keep his hands off of you for long. “Wanted to work up an appetite for ya.” You shoot him a playful glare from where you kneel at the coffee table, ravenously biting into a slice, then making a face.

“Cold pizza it is, then.”

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (18/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Canned soup always works wonders.

Warnings: cliffhanger (whoopsie), angst (duh), Lando is a cutie, swear words

Word Count: 3.6k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: not 10k words, but I did my absolute best. thanks for always having my back. I love you.

 "Fuck!" You cross your arms in front of your face and exhale deeply. "FUCK!"

How hard can it be to find an apartment in the south of France? An apartment that has a shower, a bed, and a stove top? A window would be ideal, too, but you have to cut back somewhere, after all. But even a single room in a shared apartment costs almost 2,000€ - how much do you have to pay for an apartment where your privacy is not disturbed?

Although that didn't bother you much in this apartment either. After all, you even shared the only bed with Charles. Voluntarily. The longer you think about it, the worse your headache gets.

After slamming the door in his face yesterday and then wallowing in your misery for hours, you decided to tackle the apartment hunt this morning. You don't want to spend a second longer than necessary in these four walls, which is why you briefly considered asking Kika if you could move in with her and Pierre at short notice and only for a short period of time.

But then you would also have to explain what happened. And since both of them are Charles' friends first and foremost, you don't want to get in the way, even though he's been acting like a huge asshole.

Meanwhile, you're neither sad nor angry - you're just disappointed.

Of him, because he's gone to so much lengths in the last few days to make you feel at home in his company and presence. He showed you the place that is most important to him, told you about his father and showed you his vulnerable side. He has indirectly supported you financially by getting Joris to pay you back and waiving the accruing rent. By God, he even took you to dinner with his friends so you could meet them because he thought "you'd fit in quite well."

And then he ditches you, showing his coldest, rudest, nastiest side by using what your last relationship failed at against you.

But you are even more disappointed in yourself. There has been absolutely no reason why you should trust Charles so much after such a short time. You told him about Raphael, that he left you because you wouldn't sleep with him, and that he cheated on you. You took his compliments without even a thought as to whether he meant them. You had even had a fucking - hot - sex dream with him. 

You trusted him blindly. And that's getting back at you now.

Lounging lazily on the couch and looking at apartments that are definitely beyond your budget isn't an approach to making you feel better either, so you decide to pack your suitcase already.

If you can't find a place to stay in a hurry, you'd move to a hotel first. Or a hostel. You wouldn't have any privacy there, but at least they are so cheap that you could stay there longer and thus have more time to look for something reasonable.

And anything is better than staying here.

You open the suitcase you've kept in the closet for months, spread it out on the bed, and start putting your clothes in it. Sweaters, jeans, gym clothes, underwear - the stuff you don't want to leave home without. When it's filled and locked, you put it next to the door of your room. But only to realize that your whole life doesn't fit into one suitcase.

You put your hands on your hips. 

You still have a few days before Charles returns. Theoretically, you would still have enough time to get another suitcase, because you haven't packed your shoes or bathroom utensils yet. And you can only fit a few things into your gym bag.

A ping sounds from the living room, and as you poke your head into the room, you see your cell phone light up on the coffee table. You pick it up to read the message.

Lando: Hi. I wanted to check in and see if you're feeling a little better today. Been worried about you all night.

You're chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Yesterday at noon you sent a message to Lando saying that you were feeling unwell and so unfortunately you couldn't go out with him. Aside from the fact that your eyes were swollen from crying and no ice cube in the world could have helped you with that, it didn't feel right to have dinner with him.

Charles had thrown it at you that Lando only wanted to go out with you to get you into bed. How much truth there was to that, you don't know. After all, Charles said some things that hurt you. But whether you can take them at face value is another matter.

Charles has known the Brit for much longer and, above all, better than you. And the way he has courted and flirted with you since you first met, there may be some truth in Charles' words.

But even if there were, Charles has no right to judge. To judge how you handle the matter, whether you like going out with Lando or not. And if you were to go out with him, it could be on a purely friendly basis. Maybe you would have dated and immediately realized that you would be better off as friends. 

But you can't find that out now without worry. Now that Charles has hurt you so much and pushed you away. His words are burned into your mind, which is why you answer Lando carefully.

You: I'm feeling better already, thank you. I'm sorry I had to cancel our dinner.

His reply comes immediately.

Lando: You don't need to apologize. I'm just relieved that you're feeling better. Have you eaten anything today?

As if on cue, your stomach is growling. Yesterday your mood was so low that you lost your appetite and, apart from a few cornflakes, you couldn't choke down anything. And that's exactly what you answer him. 

Lando: All right. Give me half an hour and then I'll be with you, okay?

Indecisive, you type a reply, delete it, and start again. Does it make sense to let Lando into the apartment while you're in the process of packing your bags? If that's exactly what Charles was addressing?

Charles can go to hell.

You merely give Lando a thumbs-up in response before putting your phone aside and going to the bathroom to get ready for a bit. You may not care how you look right now, but you still don't want Lando to think the worst of you. You comb your hair, wash your face, and slip into more appropriate clothes than your sleeping clothes before cleaning up the living room a bit.

When the doorbell rings, you flinch. 

You open the apartment door and a smiling Lando stands in front of it. He is wearing a black sweater with a zipper on the collar and black sweatpants. In his hand he holds a white bag.

"I didn't know which canned soup was your favorite. And that's why," he raises the bag next to his face, "I brought a selection." Grinning, he pushes past you and enters. 

You close the door behind him. "You didn't have to do that."

As if it were a matter of course and as if he were here every day, he takes off his white sneakers and heads toward the kitchen, which of course he finds immediately because of the size of the apartment, and takes the cans out of the bag. "I know," he replies to you, setting the soups side by side before turning to you and resting his hands behind him on the edge of the counter. "But I'm someone who cares about his friends when they're miserable. So," he rubs his hands together. "which soup do you want to try first?"

The selection the Brit brought with him is limited to chicken, beef or vegetables, with the picture on the can of the former looking the most appealing. While he heats the soup in a small pot on the stove, you sit at the dining table and watch him. 

"May I ask why you weren't feeling well yesterday?" he asks, wooden spoon in hand, stirring the soup.

Indecisively, you look at him. 

Lando is Charles' friend. And you don't want to tell him about how Charles treated you yesterday any more than you want to tell Kika or Pierre. Because even though he hurt you so much, you don't want his friends to think badly of him. 

Lando hands you a bowl of soup before sitting down across from you in the seat that actually belongs to Charles. An image flashes before your eyes of you eating croissants for breakfast with your roommate. Sitting across from each other, eating pasta, even though you've only known each other for half an hour.

You barely noticeably shake your head to get rid of the image. A movement that Lando takes as an answer to his question. 

"Okay. But if you need to talk to someone, I'm here for you."

You smile at him. It's the exact same phrase Charles said to you in the most beautiful place in Monaco when you were feeling so bad about Raphael's call. It feels like a lifetime ago. 

"Thank you," you reply to Lando. "I really appreciate that."

As you comfortably spoon up your soup in a slightly better mood, the Brit tells you about his plans for the coming Christmas. He wants to fly back to England to be with his parents and siblings. He shows you pictures of his niece Mila, who steals the show in every photo, but you can't blame her with the chubby cheeks. 

"I can't wait to see everyone again," Lando says as he puts his phone in his back pocket. "Are you spending Christmas with your family, too?"

You shake your head. "Nope, I'm staying here." 

Lando looks at you, confused. "Alone? What about Charles? He'd take you to see his family for sure."

He would. In fact, he offered when the two of you sat at Jori's dinner table a few days ago. You remember how the two of them joked around, even though Charles had been busting his best friend's chops just minutes before. You thought that you wouldn't do anything that would risk that friendship. 

A thought you had often. 

"Where is he, anyway?" asks Lando, stretching to be able to see the rest of the apartment from where he's sitting, which isn't difficult when the apartment itself isn't particularly much bigger than a shoebox. 

You look into the empty bowl you're clutching tightly. "He has meetings in Italy," you reply curtly, setting it on the table in front of you before pulling your knees up to your chest. 

Your friend raises an eyebrow. "Are you going there too?" As you shake your head in confusion, he points to a spot behind you with a nod of his head. "I'm just asking because there's a suitcase there."

As you turn around, you immediately realize what Lando means. You've left the bedroom door open, and from where he's sitting, he has a perfect view of the doorstep. Right to where your suitcase is. 

"It's not for that," you reply. 

"What for then?"

You stand up to stall some time, and to avoid looking Lando in the eye. You rinse the bowl slowly, hoping you'll think of another good excuse to give him. But you don't want to lie to him either. After all, Lando doesn't deserve that. 

And that's why you don't say anything as you reach for the kitchen towel to dry the bowl. You rub over each spot at least three times, and even though it's already completely dry, you keep wiping over it. 

When you suddenly feel a warm hand on your shoulder, you wince. 

"What did he do?" Lando's voice is calm and gentle as he takes the bowl and cloth from your hand and sets both down on the countertop. 

"Nothing," you reply curtly, and are about to grab a glass from the cabinet when his large hand clasps yours and stops you in your tracks. 

"Come on, Y/N." Lando pulls lightly on your hand to make you turn in his direction. You keep your head lowered, however. 

If you were looking at him right now - you just can't lie to him.

"I know Charles," he says softly, before placing his index finger under your chin and lifting it to make you look at him. When you look into his worried blue eyes, you've lost the fight. "What did he do?"

You can't stop the tears that gather in the corners of your eyes. Nor can you stop them from rolling down your cheeks as you try to blink them away. Lando thinking badly of his monegasque friend is the last thing you want. 

But if you move away from here, you certainly won't see Lando again either. And then, theoretically, you may as well not care what he thinks of his friend. And after all, it's not like Charles didn't deserve it, the way he treated you. Charles brought it on himself. 

You tell Lando everything. 

You start with the fact that Raphael cheated on you and dumped you. That you lost your job a few days ago and Charles was suddenly standing in your - his - apartment. You tell him about your agreement to share the apartment because he still lets his ex-girlfriend live in his first apartment and that after four days he grew so close to your heart that it made you dizzy. 

You tell him about Raphael waiting for you in front of the apartment on the day of the dinner with your friends, and that's why you had to spend the night at Kika's, and that Charles called you in a panic and after that you shared the bed for the first time. How you were so unsure about your feelings, because Charles is Charles, and that he had you completely wrapped around his little finger, even though you've only known each other for a few days. 

You tell him about yesterday morning. What he threw at you, even though he knew exactly how much it would hurt you. How he talked about his own friend to make you feel even more insecure. And you tell him that you told Charles that you were going to move out. 

Lando stays silent the whole time, but doesn't take his eyes off you. His eyes follow every tear that drips from your chin onto your sweater, and in between he gently squeezes your hand as a sign that he's following your story. 

When you fall silent, he says nothing at first, but pulls you toward the living room, where he places you both on the couch. You worry that you've told him too much, gone a giant step too far, but it all just poured out of you and you couldn't stop the torrent of words. 

But Lando doesn't seem to be angry with you. Quite the opposite. His gaze seems softer as you look at him. "I'd like to offer you the guest room in my apartment," he finally says. "But I don't think you'd accept the offer."

You tighten your mouth into a thin line. "I think it would be best if I just moved away. There's nothing keeping me here. No job, no responsibilities. I can go anywhere." You wrench your arms in the air. "Maybe I'll get a job in the United States. Or in Australia. Just really far away from here."

"That would be a possibility, of course," Lando replies. "But that can't be what you really want, can it?"

Puzzled, you tilt your head. "Why not?"

Lando leans against the back of the sofa. "You could have moved away when you were fired. Or when Raphael dumped you. But you stayed."

You shrug helplessly. "But now I have a reason to leave."

"Do you?" he asks. 

"Obviously."

"Then why didn't you tell me everything yesterday? Or when I was just outside your door? Or warming up your soup?" he counters. You don't like the direction this conversation is taking. "You could have told me all about it right away. But you didn't, because you didn't want me to think badly of Charles."

You shrug, trying to express your indifference towards your still-roommate. But Lando isn't buying it. Not one bit of it. 

"Come on, Y/N. You can't tell me you don't care about him at all. If you did, you wouldn't be so upset by all this that you'd want to leave the country. And then you wouldn't have tried to protect him in the first place."

You hate that he's right.

"I didn't realize you were so emotionally mature," you reply to him, slightly flippantly, and no sooner have you said it than you're sorry. "Sorry. You're not the person I'm mad at." You pucker your mouth into a thin line. "Are you mad at him? At Charles?"

Lando shrugs. "I'm not thrilled, of course, that a friend of mine would talk about me that way. Especially since he knows none of it is true," he explains. "Charles is good at pushing people away who mean something to him. I just don't know if he's doing it to protect the person or himself."

"Definitely himself." You shake your head. "You don't do something like that to protect someone! That's complete bullshit!"

"Are you sure about that?" Lando rubs his palm over his cheek. "Weren't you planning on sleeping on the couch and breaking your deal?"

You raise your index finger. "Nuh-uh. That was to protect myself."

"So you haven't been telling yourself the last few days that a friendship between you is better? After all, your ex cheated on you and left you because you wouldn't sleep with him. You got fired, Y/N. Your emotional baggage is higher than the Eiffel Tower." He puts a hand on your shoulder. "You know I don't mean that in a bad way, or to hurt you. But I'm sure you're trying to protect not only your heart, but Charles' heart as well."

You feel tears welling up in your eyes again. But this time you don't even try to stop them. "He deserves someone better. Someone who won't lie to him. Someone who doesn't carry around so much baggage." You shake your head slightly and wrinkle your nose. "He deserves someone great."

Lando's hand moves from your shoulder down their arm until he can intertwine his fingers with yours. He squeezes them gently. "I know someone who's been hurt so much, but still sees the good in people." He smiles at you. "I don't know anyone more great than you."

Lando stays with you for the rest of the evening, trying to distract you, which he clearly succeeds at with the miserable rounds of Uno in which he cheated at least twelve times. As you part with a tight, friendly hug, he presses a kiss to your cheek.

"You're still allowed to be mad at Charles. What he did is absolute bullshit," he says as he slips on his shoes. "But wait a little while before you move out. Maybe he'll come crawling back and apologize. Besides, for selfish reasons, I don't want you to move to the United States. Or Australia. Or anywhere else." He gives you one last squeeze. "If you need anything, call me. I'll be right over."

"I know," you smile, "and thanks again for the soups." 

He raises his index and middle fingers to his temple, a joking goodbye. "You're always welcome. See you around. Here in Monaco."

You close the door behind him and actually feel a lot better. Lando's presence was comforting and warm, and he's someone you definitely wouldn't want to miss as a friend. 

After brushing your teeth and combing your hair, you settle into bed. Your suitcase is still at your bedroom door, but the decision to move out isn't as set in stone as it was just a few hours ago. Perhaps you would look for a hotel for the time being to gain some distance. And then seek a conversation with Charles to have his behavior explained to you. 

Friends don't treat each other like that. And he's definitely going to have some work to do to straighten that out. But there needs to be distance between you to make it work, which is why you're looking for hotels in the area to check into tomorrow. 

A violent knock on the front door startles you. It's the middle of the night and you're not expecting anyone, so you carefully tiptoe towards the door. Maybe it's Lando, who left the rest of his soups here, or maybe he left his cell phone and can't call you to let you know he's coming by. Or maybe it's just a neighbor who got the wrong door. 

It could have been all of these possibilities. But it's none of them when you open the door. 

And you immediately regret that you didn't move out yesterday.

next part

[bigification]

A Dad's Brew

"Where the fuck did you get this? You don't turn 21 until next month." You ask your friend, looking at the six pack of beers in his hands.

"Bill got em for me." He responds.

"Why do you still talk to that old man, he gives me the creeps." You turn your nose up when he mentions the name.

"Why do you think dumbass. For the booze. When I turn 21 I'll never have to talk to him again." He punches you on the shoulder. "Are ya gonna take one or not."

You Scoff and yank one of the beers out of the six pack.

"Cheers!" You hold up your drink.

"Cheers!" He responds as he taps his bottle into yours.

You both start chugging the beer, since it's not often you get ahold of them. But this beer tasted smoother than most, it almost slid down your throat like nothing. Makes you wonder where it came from. Though it is sitting heavy in your stomach. Usually you only feel this bloated after a few beers at least, but only halfway down and it feels like your stomach is full.

"Don't be a pussy and finish the beer." It's all you can think as every drop becomes harder to keep down than the last. How much beer can there be left, it feels like you've been drinking forever and your stomach is getting more and more full. Well it's not all in your head. The pressure builds and builds until it suddenly releases, followed by the sound of a button flying across the room. Then the process repeats, pressure builds, then a button pops. You act oblivious, asking yourself what's happening, but you know.

Your belly continues to bloat, popping more and more buttons off your tiny shirt. You're starting to look pregnant, with a round bloated belly sticking out in front of you. Except it's not just a bloat, soft fat is flooding into your gut, making it pop more and more buttons until there are none left. Your shirt is wide open, letting you feel the cold breeze of the ceiling fan against your thick gut.

Little do you know, that's just the beginning. You're still struggling to down the beer when you feel something in your chest. Your flat pecs rapidly swell, sagging into a pair of soft man tits. They complement your gut perfectly, really completing the dad bod. Though the rest of your body is looking a bit small for a dad bod, let's fix that.

You feel a surge of power through your twig-like arms as thick muscles bulge out of your biceps and forearms. We all know that can't last however, just as fast as they arrive, they're covered in a thick layer of pudge. Even your hands thicken, getting a tighter grip on your beer bottle.

The sleeves on your shirt struggle to contain your thick arms and rip to shreds, leaving you shirtless. And as your shirt falls to the ground, it reveals the soft rolls of fat covering your back. They lead down into your thick love handles, spilling over the waist of your jeans.

On the topic of your jeans, I won't bet on them lasting long. Your fly bursts open as your once flat ass grows round and bouncy. Rips begin to form down your pant legs as fat fills your more powerful thighs. Your jeans finally give, falling to the ground and leaving you in nothing but your underwear. The bulge in the front of your underwear surges forward as your dick grows to 8 inches and thick as a pop can. With balls like oranges, you finally got a package fit for a father. A certain unearned confidence shoots through your growing body, making the nerves of the situation disappear. Afterall, you're the father of this household and you should be able to walk around in nothing but your underwear.

Your transformation is far from over though. Your tiny feet rip through your shoes like they were nothing, growing to a monstrous size 18. Now all that's left is that pretty little head of yours. How old did you say you were again? 20, well that's just too young to be a dad, let's fix that. Your hairline recedes slightly as your face widens. Your cheeks puff out as rough stubble spreads across your face. Your jawline disappeared under a layer of pudge as a thick double chin droops over your neck. The hair also spreads down to your chest, creating a forest of dark hair in between your man tits. It spreads further over your thick gut and down your back, because no dad is complete without that pesky back hair.

You finally finish the beer. You can't chug like you did back in your college days, and you gotta sit down to catch your breath.

You pull the bottle away from your mouth as a hulking burp erupts from your body.

"Took ya long enough..." A deep voice echoed.

You look over to see your friend holding his empty beer by his side. His gut is spilling out of his shirt and hanging over his belt. His man tits poking through his thin shirt, and his thick beard covering his neck.

"Pass me another, I'm gonna need one before our wives get home." You say.

Your friend just smiles as he tosses you another bottle.

[celestelunia]

Yk what would be sad. A Vil x GN!reader who keeps changing themselves because Vil keeps insulting everything about them (not on purpose) but he doesn’t realize what’s happening until they just stop talking to him all together because being with him hurts them too much. Nice ending maybe? (I’m a baby and can’t handle angst endings😭)

Hi! So sorry this took a while! Hope you've been well!

First time writing for Vil, but I tried my best lol. Hope you like it!

TW: self-esteem/image issues

"Straighten up"

"That color doesn't look good on you. Try something ligther."

"Hm. That clothing style isn't right. This just won't do."

"No. No. No. It's all wrong."

As you walked down the halls of NRC, you kept a couple of style magazines pushed up against your chest as your once bright eyes seemed darker and less happy.

Vil Schoenheit was someone you always admired, and when you were able to become a part of the rare few people who he considered a friend, you couldn't have been happier. You knew being next to someone like Vil wasn't going to be easier, but you never expected something on this level.

At first, it started with little words of improvement. Ones that you gladly took to help improve yourself, but over time, that's all you heard. Negative words on how you could do better. Look better. Nothing was very good enough, and now it was starting to ware you down. Suddenly, it felt like Vil was saying "you" weren't good enough.

At that thought, you came to a stop as you looked down at the magazines in your hands. It was all too much, and it was getting to the point that you couldn't even look at yourself in the mirror anymore. With a sigh, you turned and walked towards the nearest trash bin before you threw away the very magazines that had become your life.

A month had passed, and Vil was starting to wonder what was going on with you. You had slowly stopped coming by his room, attending meetings, and just having lunch together. At first, he figured it was because you got busy since he understood time restrictions and all, but after a couple of weeks, he felt like something was off.

The few times Vil saw you in the hallways the moment you caught his gaze, the model watched as you would turn and head in the opposite direction. It almost felt like you were avoiding him, but that couldn't be right?

......could it?

Over the last couple of weeks, you felt like you could breathe again, but despite that, you didn't feel happy. You couldn't bring yourself to talk to Vil, so you did the next best thing you could think of.

You avoided him.

And that alone was painful. You missed his voice, his company, and when you saw that look of surprise in his eyes when you obviously avoided him cause pain to shoot through your chest.

Despite all of these feelings, you knew the relationship you had with Vil wasn't healthy. You couldn't constantly keep up with his approval, and you wanted him to accept you for who you were.

Faults and all.

"Y/N."

Hearing the very voice you were thinking of calling out your name caused you to freeze. In that small moment, your fight or flight senses went off, but before you could make up your mind, you felt Vil grab your hand.

"Do you have a moment? I need to talk with you." Vil asked as he had noticed that look in your eyes that you might run, so he did his best to cut off your options to do so.

You paused as you considered his question. While you weren't ready to talk about this, you got the feeling you never would be, so you decided to just nod your head as the popular model led you towards his room for some privacy.

Once alone in Vil's room, you glanced around the familiar setting and scent.

"What's going on?" Vil asked, getting to the point.

At the question, you turned to look back at him without answering the question. You could feel that nasty and unpleasant bubble building up in the center of your chest. Did he really not know?

"You've been avoiding me, and I think it's only fair that you explain why." Vil said in his usual confidence.

Feeling that tightness in your chest, you wrapped your arms around yourself as you lowered your head.

"Y/N, if you slouch like that, it will be bad for-" Vil had started to say but stopped when he heard you mutter something. "Speak up. Muttering is very unbecoming."

"This!" You snapped, which caused the blonde to jump as he was startled by your sudden outburst. "The constant complaining and everything!"

Vil froze as he watched your beautiful [colored] eyes glare at him as fresh tears welled up in them.

"I'll never be good enough for you! Why can't you just accept me for who I am? I can't keep being with you as you constantly put me down!"

"Putting you down? I-" Vil said, surprised, but his words got cut off in his throat when he watched you storm over towards him.

"Maybe think a bit harder before you finish that sentence." You said as you told yourself you wouldn't apologize for getting your feelings out. "Not everyone is perfect, Vil. Not everyone can be like you....."

The model just started at you for a moment, but before he could speak, he watched as you walked past him and out of the room. Now alone, Vil just frowned. He had never seen you like this before, and your words echoed in his head.

He didn't put you down. He would never do something like that to you....right? You were the only person (outside of Rook) who he could be himself around. He adored your company...

Taking a deep breath, Vil left his room as he headed towards his vice housewarden room. If anyone could help him right now, it would be Rook.

The next day, you decided not to go to classes as you stayed crawled up on your bed. While you did feel better getting your feelings out, you felt sad at the fact that you might lose your friendship with Vil.

It was weird how the world "friendship" had changed for you over time as you started to notice a change in your feelings, but it wasn't something you were ready to drive into it.

Hearing a knock on your door, you let out a moan as you pulled your blankets over your head. "Go away." You called out as you figured it was one of your friends checking up on you. After a couple of seconds of silence, you thought they had left, but instead, you heard your door open. Holding back another groan, you kept yourself hidden, hoping your friend would get the message that you weren't in the mood to talk.

"Staying in and resting is important."

Instead of your friends voice, you heard Vil's as you suddenly sat up in your bed and removed the blanket from your head.

Standing in the room was Vil as he closed the door behind him.

"What are you doing here?" You ask as even you could hear the coldness in your tone.

"I came to talk." Vil said as he just smiled softly. "And to apologize."

At this, you gripped the blanket that was resting in your lap. Vil apologizing? That didn't sound right.

Noticing that you weren't moving to kick him out, Vil decided to continue. "I want to apologize for my words. I know it's not an excuse, but I didn't even notice I was saying those....things to you. Or how often."

While Vil was a proud man, he also wasn't that proud to lose someone important to him due to his own mistakes. After talking with Rook, he finally had a good understanding of how he had been treating you. "Perfection..." Vil said with a sigh as he looked off to the side of your room. "...is something that has been pushed on me since a young age, and it appears I've picked up a rather nasty habit. I never meant for my words to make you think you weren't good enough." He said as he walked over towards your bed and took a seat on the side of it. "You're already perfect enough. Just knowing I can be myself around you and knowing you won't judge my imperfections..." Vil said as he reached out and placed his hand over yours that was gripping your blanket.

"...It means the world to me, and I'm sorry for making you feel like you weren't good enough. I understand if you don't want to be around me anymore, but I wanted you to know I never once thought you weren't good enough."

At Vil's words, your eyes widen before you glance down at his hand resting over yours. It was like a weight had been lifted from your chest. "It hurt..." You whispered as you closed your eyes. "I just want to be with you and not to embarrass yo-"

Before you could finish your sentence, you felt Vil gently hand on the back of your head as he slowly pulled you forward into an embrace.

"You've never embarrassed me. I was just wanting what was best for you, and that ended up turning into nagging stepmother's territory." Vil said with a small smile as he tried to lighten the mood. "And I'm sorry I hurt you...."

With your forehead resting against Vil's chest, you let out a long sigh as you took in his warmth. Something about his scent and being next to him always helped you to relax.

"Do you forgive me?" The model asked bearly above a whisper. The longer the silence went, the more he was starting to worry you wouldn't.

"I do...." You said before pulling back to look at Vil. "...but I hold the right to punish you if you make me feel like this again." You said with a playful smile.

"Deal." Vil replied as he mirrored your smile. "I've already spoken with Rook, and I plan on being more mindful. I don't make the same mistake twice."

Taking in a deep breath, you nodded your head.

"Now." Vil said as he suddenly stood up from your bed. "I've cleared my schedule for the rest of the day. How about we watch a movie and catch up a bit?" He asked before holding out his hand to you.

Surprised that Vil cleared HIS schedule for you made that familiar warmth spread through your chest again as you smiled. How you've missed it. "Who am I to turn you down?" You teased softly as you reached out and placed your hand in his.

[spiderfunkz]

heyy could you do a peter parker blurb based on him asking you out on the last day of school? i love ur writing btw

✧ LOVE ON A LAST DAY.

summary : someone has a pretty crush on you!

word count : 0,7k

contains : fluff, fem!reader, super cutesy stuff.

a/n : next month i'll be graduating so this prompt is actually perfect omg omg, thank u for requesting anon i hope u like this !!! 🤭 i used the word 'smile' so much in this i apologize

"hey, peter!"

you waved cheerfully,

it was the last day of school. the final bell just rang and everyone is running out of the building yelling, cheering, crying, and smiling. papers were scattered, pens fell out of backpacks, shirts were signed, and flowers were exchanged.

you were going to hangout with your friends but that's when you spot peter at the end of the hall. hair messy, backpack full, his hands were in his pocket, he looked very nervous.

but you weren't going to leave him alone like that, it's been a while since you two have catched up.

you have been friends since middle-school, but as friends do, they drift apart, though you've never lost that spark with peter. you loved his company & he loved yours.

"hi!" peter waved.

you catch up to him, "hey, i didn't see you anywhere today! you haven't gotten a chance to sign my jacket yet. here," you pass a marker.

"i saved you a spot to sign." he nods, signing it.

you smile, "aw, this looks perfect."

he smiles too, he seems to be very smiley every time he's around you.

sometimes he forgets that you can see how much he smiles when he's near you, or how you can see that he's clearly staring at you.

"what? do i have something on my face?" you rub your cheek,

"oh, no. no you don't, sorry."

"you sure?"

he nods.

"you're weirdly quiet. you okay? i'm still going to the same college as you if that's what you're worrying about," you giggle.

peter has always loved how easy you are to talk to. in a way that there's never awkward pauses between conversations, and how your smile makes everything feel so calm and nice.

"i know. i just, uh-" he fiddles with something in his pocket, "there's something i wanna say, if that's okay."

"yeah, why wouldn't it not be okay?"

he shakes his head, smiling.

he passes you a picture from his pocket along with a small flower he picked.

you take it, your hand softly brushing his hand for a second.

it was a picture he took 2 months ago. you remember the day very well.

it was hot, awfully hot for new york. there were no clouds, the skies were clear and everybody was talking about it. how eager they are to take a walk and how excited they are to enjoy time outside.

though you and peter wanted nothing more but to stay inside, but this doesn't happen everyday. so why not try your best to enjoy it?

you were at the park and just finished your 2nd cup of lemonade (it was peter's), peter brought his camera for memories. your hair kept sticking to your face and it didn't help that you were smiling a ton so it got in your lipgloss as well.

suddenly wind came and flew past you. the air felt cool for a second and your hair went all over your face, you still smiled though.

peter saw and took a picture immediately, the sun perfectly leaving a glow on your hair, also giving your lips a nice glow.

"did you just take a picture?" he quickly shook his head, "yes you did! let me see!" — "no! i know you're just gonna delete it."

you finally saw the picture. at the bottom you can see a handwritten note on it. a beautiful day with the most beautiful girl!

"peter, this is so cute. you- you took this?" you asked, he nods shyly.

you couldn't hide the fact that your face grew red. "i was wondering... if maybe the most beautiful girl in the world would like to maybe.. like to.. go out with me sometimes..?"

peter said, whispering the last few words, looking down at his shoes, the doodled converses you once drew on.

you smile, "i'd love to."

he looks up, shocked. "really?"

"yeah! i mean all of this coming from the most prettiest, talented, caring boy in the world? how could i say no?" you smile, teasingly.

peter smiles.

he thinks for a second before taking the small flower from your hands and tucking it behind your ear, "pretty." he says, stated actually.

"so are you going to walk me home now, most beautiful boy in the world?" you ask. he nods almost immediately, "absolutely, most perfect girl in the world."

you walk outside the building, your hand holding his.

"just so you know i'm gonna draw a big red heart around your signature on my jacket."

[psylocke142]

I'll wait for you.

Sana x fem!reader

synopsis: You and Sana have an on/off relationship. You broke up again two weeks ago. Then you begin to talk at a school event again.

w/c: 2.4k

warnings: angst; hopeless romantic; no happy endings here; on/off relationship; more angst; complicated relationship; even more complicated feelings; smoking

a/n: i am trying something new here. i have never written or posted anything before, so bare with me if you decide to check this out. i just felt like trying something here. btw i love sana and i apologize if she seems like the "bad guy" in this fic. :) DMs and asks open to suggestions and feedback.

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You're currently back home, sitting on the roof of this shitty old house. It's been over an hour and the sun is starting to set. However, you can't seem to find the motivation to go back inside. You've been looking back at these past months. Lighting up a cigarette and inhaling a lung full of smoke as you try to figure out where it all went wrong. You're afraid you already know the answer, but one can fake obliviousness.

-- Flashback --

It's been weeks since you were last on good terms. If only you can explain or express how deeply that crushes your heart.

Thursday was open mic night for school. You had finished classes early that day and rushed out of your part-time at the restaurant.

Sana was there along with your friends. You rushed into the cafe, where the open mic was being held. It was crowded.

Anxiety began to rise and take over your body, heart hammering against your chest.

Whether it was from the thought of performing in front of everyone or the thought of seeing Sana, you had no clue.

You had entered through the side entrance. Automatically you searched for her face, wondering if she really did decide to come see you perform.

Sana: of course I'm gonna go!

Y/N: really? you don't have to

Sana: yes i do!

Y/N: ...ok then

Sana: will you be happy if i go?  i mean... do you want me to?

Y/N: ...yea i want you there

Sana: ...

Y/N: ...

Sana: i'm sorry y/n...it's ok if you don't want me to go

Sana: i know things have been weir-

Y/N: please come sana

Y/N: really, i mean it

Sana: oh...ok!

Y/N: ok

As you moved through the crowd you saw the face you've longed for. The person you had been missing. Sana.

She wasn't alone. She was walking next to Momo. The both of them had classes all day so they still had their book bags on them. Their backs were facing you as you approached them. You had an idea.

You walked up to the two girls, making sure to go unnoticed. Then you suddenly yanked on their backpacks lightly while yelling, "I can't do this." Blabbering whatever came to mind first.

Both girls turned around with a scare, Momo screaming loudly of course.

After the initial shock wore off. Sana replied, "What happened?" meanwhile Momo was hitting your shoulder cursing at you.

"I can't do this. I don't think I can go up there."

Despite the punches you were receiving from Momo you were solely focused on Sana. Your gazes met and locked. Sana reached out for your hand to calm your anxiety. Old habits. But you weren't opposed and you didn't feel like pulling back either.

It had been a few days since you both last spoke. Two weeks since you broke up. You would pass each other at school, sharing some of the same classes. But things were a bit different. Post breakup. You texted every once in a while trying to remain friends. Trying to remain in each other's lives. It wasn't the same.

Even though you had broken up, your presence wasn't unwelcomed by Sana. The two of you remained close during the beginning. Sitting down next to each other as you watched the first events. Momo tagged along but stayed a bit behind. You tried playing it cool at first, keeping a slight distance. There's never been any awkwardness between the two of you, so conversation came easily. Almost like nothing ever happened. Almost.

There was a shift in Sana. She went quiet and appeared to be focused on the current musical act, but her face showed she was debating something inside her head. You could tell it was something serious by the way she was chewing on her bottom lip.

You can't recall Sana's exact words. She had leaned close into your side. Her front touching your shoulder. Breath tickling your ear as she whispered, "I miss you y/n/n."

"Take me back y/n..."

"Please."

You turned around to meet her face. The sudden shift in Sana caught you off guard. Not expecting this sudden topic. You regained focus quickly, shifting to Sana's features that were just an inch away. She had a soft, sad smile. Her eyes pleading. Sana was your weakness. Your everything. You couldn't ever say no to her. So you met her eyes and gave her a slight nod while softly smiling at her. Sana's smile grew and she gave you a small peck on the cheek.

The rest of that night was great. Until Sana disappeared.

She had gone off somewhere with Nayeon and Jihyo. The anxiety had returned. This time you were sure that it was about performing later that night. You wanted to run away. Your hands began to sweat and you searched for Sana.

Professor Park came up to you, asked you when you wanted to go up. Currently it was the second open mic participant on stage. He said you could go third or last for the open mic. "I'll go third. I don't want to end it weak." Professor Park laughed at your comment, thinking you were joking. You were joking. Partially.

Sana came up to you as your conversation with the professor ended. When he left you started complaining and pretended you were going to leave. You knew Sana would beg you to stay. She held onto your hands trying to calm you down.

You were up next and had begun to really get nervous. Performances and public speaking just aren't your thing.

The host called up your name. Your hands started to shake. Heart pounded in your ears. You parted from Sana, she slowly let your hands go. You hesitated letting go. You wanted to take her with you.

As you walked up to the stage you heard cheering and applause. You turned to look at the crowd. There you recognized Momo, Mina, Dahyun, Chaeyoung, and Tzuyu cheering loudly. You took the mic and mumbled that you weren't prepared. Though you don't know if you said it loud enough for everyone to have heard. Hopefully no one had caught that.

You recited your poem's title and said it incorrectly. You mentally slapped yourself, but you rectified yourself and restated the title. You continued with your poem. Your voice, hands, and legs weren't as shaky as the previous performances in class. You heard this one guy in the crowd blurt, "Shiiiiiiiitt" as you read through the final lines of your poem.

At the end there was a small hesitation for the applause because of the sudden twist in your work. That was your intention. The applause and cheers came soon. Especially from your friends. You turned to glance at them and saw Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Jihyo pretending to wipe tears from their eyes as they "cried" on each other's shoulders. Competing with each other on who could seem the most realistic.

You got down the stage. Hurriedly walked down the middle towards the back of the cafe. To Sana. As soon as you reached her she opened her arms. You wrapped your arms around her. Sana gently rubbed your back as you held tightly onto her. "I'm so proud of you baby" she cooed.

Sana let go and slightly pushed you off to grab a hold of your hand. She led you to a secluded area of the cafe. Then she palmed your face and grabbed the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss.

You had missed the feeling of her soft lips.

But like all good things, it came to an end.

Nighttime came quicker than you wanted it to. You were now back in your dorm. All you wanted was to lay in bed and relax. The rollercoaster of emotions draining your energy. But the ride still wasn't over. You were sat up in bed, on the phone with Sana.

She wanted to break up again. She had just asked to get back together a couple hours ago but here you were. Sana asked for space once again. Explaining that she had been dealing with insecurities, didn't know who she was, and had other personal issues. She needed time to find herself and figure things out for herself. As hard as you tried to reassure her, tell her she was perfect, give her nothing but love she insisted she needed space. You respected her decision.

That Friday night felt like it would never end. Felt like you couldn't catch a break. You felt nothing and everything at the same time.

Word was out that you and Sana broke up. Again. How everyone found out, you don't know. You were sitting in the common room before class with Momo and Jeongyeon. They were bickering about some nonsense. You didn't have it in you to join them. So you pretended to read your English textbook. Sana entered the common room. She headed straight towards Miyeon, who was across the room, to ask her about upcoming finals. You couldn't stop yourself from looking at her. That was when Nayeon and Jihyo joined your table.

Nayeon shoved your shoulder, "Why aren't you with your girl?"

"She's not my girl," you whispered.

Somehow Momo and Jeongyeon who were bickering the entire time with Jihyo included, who joined in as soon as she sat down, managed to hear and quieted down. They all looked at you, their eyes a mix of pity and sadness. This wasn't anything new to them but it still saddened them to hear the news.

Nayeon had always been supportive of you and Sana. She was the one who introduced you to one another. So she couldn't help but to gently ask, "Why?"

As you remembered all of yesterday's events, Sana whispering to take her back. Holding her hands again. Being wrapped in her arms. Her soft warm lips. Her warm smile and gentle eyes. Being comforted by her. Having her close. The long conversation you had over the phone. The break up. The space she wanted. You felt your chest contort and rip in two.

"I don't know."

"Well, I do know but I just don't want to say."

It was clear what Sana wanted. She made sure of that. You just couldn't explain that to Nayeon and the others without breaking. Thankfully, they seemed to have understood that.

"Hey, we get it. It'll be alright y/n/n." Jeongyeon calmly said as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

"C'mon now let's head to class."

All of you got up and started to head for class.

Throughout the day you dragged yourself from class to class. Trying to forget about Sana. You were failing miserably. You decided to head to the restroom to splash some water on your face. See if that would help.

As you were about to push the restroom door it was suddenly pulled open from the other side. You looked up to find Sana, surprised to see you. Your eyes met and you felt your heart clench. You weren't thinking. Your brain stopped working and your heart started going into overdrive, so you jokingly muttered, "Excuse me...I'm just going in for a quick cry" as you squeezed beside Sana to enter.

Sana quickly turned around and headed towards you. Shutting the door in the process.

You felt a hand take a hold of your wrist pulling you back. You didn't expect Sana to follow you in. You really did feel like crying now.

Sana studied you. You couldn't meet her gaze.

She apologized and you couldn't conjure up a response. You just stood there staring at the floor. Brain still not functioning. Heart still in overdrive, wanting nothing but Sana. Your heart fought with itself inside your ribcage. The hammering and ache screaming to run and stay.

Then she pulled you into her arms. As much as you wanted to cry mere seconds ago you couldn't. Your heart was rushing with a mix of emotions, but the fight inside from earlier had subsided. You just let yourself sink into Sana for the moment. You wanted to kiss her. So you pulled back a little and leaned in. Halfway through you felt Sana's arms begin to come up your shoulders. Getting ready to push you back. It was then you realized you shouldn't, so instead you swiftly glided your head to lean on Sana's shoulder. You couldn't help but let out a defeated sigh. Your heart sunk so low.

A pair of hands lifted to caress the back of your neck. Sana guided your head up and leaned in. The kiss was soft, it was more than a peck but still it felt too short. You had gotten what you wanted, but you didn't know how to feel about that.

Sana pulled back and softly palmed the side of your face caressing you with a sad smile. You tried reciprocating as best as you could, but your smile was much smaller and weaker than Sana's. Then she exited the restroom. Leaving you there. You stood there for a while. You couldn't stop replaying what just happened. You felt so stupid. Lost.

-- End of Flashback --

The sun has fully set. Your thoughts are still filled with Sana. Will she ever come back? It's been at least half a year since then. You still see her around campus but she's always glued to Miyeon's hip. Any and all attempts to get her to talk to you are intercepted by her best friend. Sana also makes an effort in ignoring you. If you pass each other in the hall she practically sprints away with her head down. Or she feigns to be doing something on her phone. Face immensely close to her phone trying to block her face from your sight. If you catch her staring at you she turns away instantly. If she's hanging out with Momo, Nayeon, or any of your other friends she makes an excuse to leave. Never acknowledging your presence. She practically runs from you. It left you dumbfounded the first couple of times. Leaving the others to apologize on Sana's behalf. You couldn't handle the pain all of Sana's actions caused you. So you stopped trying to reach out or get close. You accepted the distance she wanted to create.

Now you just feel a hollow cavern that continues to grow inside your chest as more time passes. At this point your ribcage feels sore from the constant fight and ache your heart has been through. All you could do is sigh as you put out the remaining bud of the cigarette you had lit up. Lazily you brush yourself off to head back inside.

"I'll wait until you're ready."

[tomriddleslovergirl]

The Fruit of Your Labour

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Wordcount: 1k

Summary: After months of searching, you finally find Mattheo.

It’s been months. Months since you’ve last seen your boyfriend. Months spent on trying to track Mattheo down. And finally, you’ve found him.

You stand on the porch of a small house, staring at the front door. You chew your bottom lip raw, your hands forming fists — crinkling the note with the house’s address in your hand. You shove it into your pocket.

Your heart races. You haven’t seen Mattheo in so long. So many emotions and thoughts have gone through you since he disappeared. You had been scared, wondering what had happened to him. And after finding out that he had run away, you were left with one word in particular running through your head.

Why? Why would Mattheo leave? Why would he leave Hogwarts, his friends, you?

Though you are afraid Mattheo will turn you away at the door, you curl your hand into a fist, about to knock, when suddenly the door creaks open.

Arm falling to the side, you stare at the man before you. His warm brown eyes look at you in the same way. 

Mattheo looks almost the same, except that there are bangs under his eyes and his scar has been covered by what you assume is magic.

He speaks your name, snapping you out of your trance.

“Mattheo.. Mattheo." You speak his name almost unbelievingly. You want to jump into his arms and also slap him. “You left.”

He wears his guilt on his face. Good.

“I-I can explain,” Mattheo says, reaching out for you. You think he’s about to hug you, but instead, he pulls you into the house and shuts the door behind you.

“Does anyone else know you’re here? Where I am?” He sounds frantic and his body language shows it.

You shake your head. “No. As soon as I found out about your whereabouts, I came here.” You grab the note in your pocket and show it to Mattheo as some sort of pathetic show for proof.

He snatches it from you and scans the writing before throwing the paper into the fireplace.

“You can’t tell anybody about me,” he says.

Your brows furrow and your lips form a frown. “Why not?”

Mattheo sighs, though his gaze softens into something more familiar. He pulls you towards him and wraps his arms around your frame. Despite yourself, you melt into Mattheo’s embrace.

“You left,” You whisper against his chest.

“I know,” he whispers back.

You both pull away from each other and he gestures towards the couch. You sit down.

“I’m Voldemort’s son.”

You stare up at him, dumbfounded. It takes a moment for you to process those words. “What?”

He sighs again and awkwardly scratches the back of his head. “Yeah…”

You shake your head, unbelieving, though you know Mattheo wouldn’t joke at a time like this. “But your parents are… Bellatrix and Rodolphus.”

Suddenly, you remember all those times you would write Mattheo’s name in your diary. Mattheo Lestrange Black.

“I didn’t believe it as well. Turns out my mom had a thing going on with the Dark Lord.” Mattheo takes a seat next to you. “Voldemort suddenly found out that I was technically his son a few months ago, and he wanted to kill me. My parents helped me run away before he actually hurt me,” he explains nervously, and glances at you.

You take in everything Mattheo says, on guard.

“How long will you be here for?” You ask, grasping his pale hand and giving it a squeeze.

Mattheo shrugs and interlocks your fingers with his. “I don’t know. Hopefully when he dies.”

The Order of the Phoenix. You want to suddenly tell Mattheo all about it, but somehow keep your mouth shut.

You give his hand another reassuring squeeze.

“Are you going to leave again? Now that I know where you are.”

Mattheo shakes his head. “I don’t want to, and I don’t want to leave you again.”

You can’t help but smile at his words. You feel tears prick the corners of your eyes but quickly wipe them away. “Everyone was so worried about you,” you say, hoping Mattheo couldn’t hear the tremble that laced your words.

His eyes light up as you mention the others. “How are they doing?”

“Everyone was worried when you first left,” You repeat. “I haven’t really been keeping up with the others all that much, if I’m being honest.”

Mattheo nods.

“What if he finds you?” You can’t help but ask. The ‘he’ in questions doesn’t have to be specified.

You listen to the crackling of the fire as Mattheo thinks for a moment. “There are protective charms covering this area. If Voldemort or one of his cronies tries, I’ll be informed. So, I’ll have some extra time to get away.”

Oh. That’s a bit of a relief to hear. You relax and let yourself be held by Mattheo. Soon, you find yourself sitting sideways atop his lap.

“I really missed you,” he says, pressing his face against your neck.

“I did too.” You run your fingers through Mattheo’s dark hair, and gently grip it to force his face back. You press a kiss to his lips, which he returns. He wraps one hand around your waist, bringing you closer, while the other rests on one of your legs. You in turn wrap your arms around Mattheos neck, deepening the kiss.

You wish you could stay like this forever, held in the arms of the person you loved. Love. You  realize you haven't told Mattheo you love him yet.

You break the kiss and whisper near his lips, “I love you, Mattheo.”

He lets out a small breath and your heart skips a beat. “I love you too.”

Mattheo presses another kiss to your lips, and you respond to it in delight. You both press against each other, perhaps in the hope that you’ll somehow be stuck together.

“Stay the night,” Mattheo says breathlessly, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You would stay with Mattheo forever if you could. But you know that you’ll eventually have to leave so that your family wouldn’t worry. So, you’ll enjoy the secretive time you have with him for now, until he’s safe from the danger that confines him.

a/n: I don't think Tom would be thrilled at the news of having a child, and would view them as a sort of competition, and would end up killing them. So, that kind of inspired me to write this fic. The reader is going to end this war for her man lol🤪 divider creds: @saradika

[ghostykapi]

shouldn't, couldn't, would.

kim dahyun & actress!reader

YIPIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE // angst

being an actress means your love life is always full of stupid things and heartbreak

when you were working in your 3rd film, you got your first taste of what it means to be in a situationship. the boy was older than you, always showing you how someone should treat you. he left you at 3 am when he had a new casting call overseas

right after, you meet this new guy, he's too mean, too annoying and easily irritable. you didn't know any better when he acted different with you, letting you assume and fall, until you realize that he was only like that because you had connections he needed. you never spoke to him until now

a few weeks later, you hit off with this sweet lady. she's your dream girl, always making sure you feel reassured and loved, always sweet and understanding, never pushing you to be someone else. quite the bummer when after 4 months she leaves you to get back to her ex

there's more, it's a list. a powerpoint presentation maybe

point being

you hate it

you don't count it anymore anyway, everything blurring in between different shoots, movie screenings, interviews for whatever series you join in, variety shows that will only get the surface of who you are

everything that you thought you wanted is now but a blur of nothing

you only find joy in the hustle and bustle of everyday commute now. each whisper or buzz casually going in and out of your ear, not caring what the others are saying. some of it are about you of course, an actor that reach stardom and still takes the public transport may lead to some speculation and assumptions

you this is where you practice you're stone cold persona, in this foreign land of the free

"miss?"

exceptions can be applied

you smile and give a little bow at the kid who gives you a letter, the shine of the glitter on her tiny hands passing on to yours.

“miss y/n! you have the prettiest smile ever!”

you giggle at the kid, her gummy smile bringing a brief feeling of warmth. she rambled on how cool you looked in that action series that premiered months ago, and you answer her every burning question of what food your character would enjoy

“would she like gummy worms miss y/n?”

“i think she would like gummy bears too”

her mom just smiles at the interaction, mouthing the words ‘thank you’ to you

it feels enough, better than lying back and forth with actor 'friends' anyway

shame that it was your stop, waving to the mother and daughter duo you step into the steps of new york's subway platforms, the fighting, gossiping and music pulling you back to the chaos of reality

strolling the on the streets of the land of where anything can happen, you wonder if you can still call this your own dream

your phone buzzes in your pocket

manager: new gig. up for it?

somehow though, at every thought of staying here, you come back to one place

so you find yourself blinking away the days, and instead of the subway in new york, you’re now riding the subway in seoul

back to korea, where your acting started

where you find half of your heartbreaks still living life

where you find what you possibly think is your latest one too

so as hours go by, you find yourself sitting in the board room to meet up the directors, casts and other staff. you mindlessly play with your phone, tuning out the noise.

it was too early to start the meeting since the rest held up in traffic, which you payed no mind to, so you kept to yourself. the only noise coming from you were the ticks and vibrations coming from your phone

until your manager slaps your arm, causing you to yelp and look up. suddenly staring at the idol in front of you

“y/n, this is kim dahyun, you will be her partner in this series based on the script”

ah yes the script that you just read last night, that you forgot to check who plays who

you stand up, giving her a firm handshake

"pleasure of meeting you kim dahyun"

stotic face, the only indication of having the pleasure to meet her is the glint in your eye. a shine that only passed by before dahyun could even think about it more

“pleasure to work with you”

bright, happy, sunny, excited and ready, that was what you got from her

so clearly, you two are complete opposites

you don’t make small talk in your first meeting, only ever giving dahyun short clipped answers when she asks questions about the script. it was to be expected at least, having a reputation of being strictly professional, cold and unapproachable

dahyun doesn’t mind, having done research on the cast, especially on you. coming prepared to withstand your chilly presence in between takes, especially when your roles are intertwined

she just watches in keen interest when she realizes you didn't really look into who is playing who until now

she just isn’t quite sure on how she would feel when she has to act with you during your scenes

especially when it’s set in a university, with her character as the usual model role students you would see in campus, and yours being the art student that’s cold and distant

dahyun still thinks she’s got this. she’ll have fun, after all this is acting

acting or not though, you can feel your nerves chip you to the bone when you talk about the script. when the director says he intentionally choose the cast closest to the characters even personality wise

to show the world your real self in the guise of a character as far as you can

you think dahyun also realizes that when the director really goes in depth with the story, how deeply intertwined you both will be until the end of the series, how this can even have the slim chance of bleeding into real life

you try not to think about it that much, only to get slapped by the thoughts of it during your first day of filming. just before you start your first take, you can feel your breath hitch at what you are about to do

“—and rolling tape!”

you bury every thought as you move to act your scene

you're meticulously drawing your sketch for a project. the university art studio is empty, expected as it's only the early start of the sem. your fellow classmates deciding that wasting energy this early

expect for you and the melody of whatever your speaker is playing. this is your ideal environment to work in

calm, peaceful, serene—

it's ruined when the door slams open, making you flinch at the sudden interruption

"hey! who the fu-"

the intruder strides in, grabbing you by the collar and smashing your lips together

it takes about 10 more kisses in the middle of the room for you to push her away, gasping out of shock and the need for air

"you said you didn't want anyone else to see us" you furrow your eyebrows, your lips stained with that pink gloss she had on. whatever you are saying is not getting in her head

"you let that man touch you" she's colored in jealousy, the anger in her eyes complementing the fire that comes in her actions "you let him hug you"

"a hug!" you find yourself stumped "you barged in, kissed me by surprise, all because i let a friend hug me!"

"i don't like sharing" scoffing, she points a finger to your chest "i don't share remember?"

baffled, you snap

"then ask me out, put a label on us."

she stays silent, everything does. the fire is gone, the loud jealousy is gone, only nothing, predictable, bitter silence

"labels are stupid"

that's not part of the script

"then don't come in and distract me from my work"

she huffs, and turns around to leave the room, slamming the poor door in the process

"cut! great work everybody! but let's do another round just to be sure. take 10"

you stare at the door, for a bit too long before turning around to let the make up artists touch up your lips, makeup and hair

the lips that just felt a kiss that might have changed everything

you don't know it yet, but on the other side of the set, dahyun can barely breath, the taste of your cherry lip gloss still on, the moan you almost let out for everyone to hear engraved in her mind

she pretends that she isn't dazed by you or shocked by how good you were at kissing. pretends that she got lost in the kiss that she almost to say her lines

to say that it was a one time thing is a lie, because with every scene and every take that requires you to kiss makes it worse

god you both are so fucked

dahyun thinks your lips are the softest and most addicting ones she had ever kissed

you think that she's out here to take your sanity away with how well she can make you melt

so after a week of filming, quietly waiting at the sidelines of the set for your turn, you say the following words that shock the both of you

"you are a good kisser"

that gets her face red, despite the amount of times that she has done this for the sake of acting

"thank you, you uh are also really good" she turns away, embarrassed at how easily flustered she can be by your words

the director says nothing to both your red faces when he calls you into the set, only a twinkle in his eyes that you both know.

you try to bury that though, one thought always stays on repeat

stay professional. stay professional. stay professional. stay professional.

it keeps on getting hard to stay professional when you act in a role that gets into your head, where the idea of love fits perfectly and you wish this ending will happen to you.

it's even harder even when after initial tension dies down, she invites you out to convivence store ramen after a scene. it was mid day, but your next filming is later midnight, so you agreed.

you find yourselves two blocks away from the set filming, with some staff also tagging along on their break to stuff their faces with any food really. you both unconsciously hold hands, warming up the space between you both

you only notice it when she has to let go to get the ramen she wants, and you yearn for her to hold your hand again

she notices you pouting, so she holds your hand on the way back, she does it every time to see the faint smile appear on your lips when she does

it becomes a routine, chatting, eating, intertwining your lives together with every trip. even during the late nights studying your scripts a bit more, dahyun banters with you, bit by bit destroying your walls

“i told you chocolate milk can pair with ramen"

"not as the damn soup"

"yes it would!"

“whatever you say”

her laugh will forever haunt you, replaying in your head for the days to come despite working in the same set. itching to hear it again and again and again

you find yourself not hearing it within a confession, both in film and in real life. her eyes begging for you to even consider the slimmest chance to take that leap again

it's you who laughs in disbelief, and in shock, because you? kim dahyun choosing you?

"you won't find love with me"

a beat. a rejection

"i will"

resistance, the shine in between cracks is still there

“ok everyone back to your positions!”

“i’d like to see you try kim”

it pulls her deeper. she knows that she’s stupid for trying again and again even through your persistence and rejections

it was mistake to let her get a taste of you

now she’s head set ready to claim you

it keeps on going, scene, cut, flirt, reject, pout, late night out, study lines, practice, sleep, wake up, refresh and repeat

a cycle you hate to think about, love to practice in

well that is, until you reach the last of your scenes together, the sunset always your companion, a short window frame to even film in

the sunset is what you can focus on before you let yourself cry, letting your character take over you. it's easy, when you have many memories of heartbreak

crying over failed chances, over what potential you lost because you were scared, crying over a love chance now lost

you cry and you cry, holding the keychain she gave you, promising you that she will always end back to you

why did she have to turn around and break it by letting a man kiss her?

you try to breath, but it's hard

colors blurring together, lines breaking and shattering, everything mixing in and in turmoil until it's too much

until it doesn't

because it clicks

it clicks to you that there were no lines in the first place, because this is how real it can get

and she is the realest thing you have seen, in and out of camera

there she is, standing at the end of the hall before running to you, in panic of your tears, in worry that you are in pain, the frantic yet gentle hands wiping away your tears

so you sob, sob and sob until you feel her hands wipe away your tears

"pretty woman too gorgeous to cry"

you find yourself looking past the character she's portraying. looking straight in her eyes, trying to find the truth in everything

you try to find kim dahyun in all of these layers, begging, asking for a sign that you aren't too late

you can't find her. only the character she holds, and it's stupid how it breaks you

too bad the show must go on

"the prettiest, hottest and sexy woman" her touch is too gentle to be acting, her lips against yours blurring the line, the emotions mixing in and the words crumbling you down

“take the chance with me baby” and you close your eyes when you kiss her, the passion melting your body and igniting your soul

it takes a few more seconds before you hear the word ‘cut!’ and you feel her pull away.

with a slice in the throat, you find yourself scrambling because the bliss ended too fast

you’ve been to many ends of something, something that was almost everything

she was your everything for a few weeks

everyone is cheering, and it’s finally coming at you that this is the end

the end of another blissful delusion

it’s another heartbreak in motion

you can’t handle another one

you stand up, brushing past dahyun before she can say another word. watching as you head out, to do what you said you would do because you never got to do it before

to run away from impending hurt

to take off before it gets to you

she can’t let you end up in the same place

so she runs after you, ignoring her co workers and staff members calling for the both of you. running headfast towards what she wants

when she wanted to be an idol she bulldozed through, the bright hope of her family in her heart

when she wanted to be an actress she fought her way through, with the support of her members blazing her through

this is different, for the sole reason she’s on to prove to you she’s the only one for you

when she sees you run off into the city lights, she calls your manager to catch up to you

to the only place she knows that you would go

she finds you on the bench behind the convience store, staring into nothingness

"it's rude to run off after a confession"

no reply, and dahyun decides that it’s finally time to fully put her heart out to it's fullest extent

"i meant every word"

you don’t move, still staring at the ground in front of you

couldn't she just let it go? the label would only complicate her life

“go away dahyun”

“i can’t”

she sits beside you, eyes also looking at the ground you're staring at. only difference is that she glances at your hands, wishing she can hold them

“i do mean it” she’s determined to break this last wall “i only want you”

“bullshit dahyun” you cut her off, and you can feel the weight of everything in your heart “you must have been in the moment”

“i meant it, that i only want you-"

"dahyun you must be dreaming because do you really want me?"

she's crying too, angry at the world for hurting you too bad, blinded by fears and hurt. angry at those who used you, who didn't love you right, or even leave you with proper closure. angry at herself, at how stubborn she is to be with you

but she can't be angry at you

no she can't

"i always want you, ever since you let me ask too many questions during the briefing, when you first came with me to eat ramen, even when you keep rejecting me. i always want to love you. only you"

you can't believe her, you want to believe her

until you feel a flash of memories flood your heart

"then you are a fool"

she stands up, and you wonder if she's like every heartbreak you've ever had in your life

"i know, but at least i get to be a happy fool"

you don't know why dahyun is now kneeling right in front of you, holding your hands, holding all of the love that you thought you lost

"i can't promise you that i'll be your perfect dream, i can't promise you that we'll never experience fights and heartbreak, i can't promise you that i'll be the one"

you let her kiss your hands, to your cheeks and to your lips. slow, soft and steady

"i can promise i'll always think of you as my number one girl. i can promise that i'll do my best to get to our dates, i'll promise to make it up to you when i don't, i'll do my best to make you fall in love with love again, i'll always choose you. i can promise that"

you feel her cup your cheeks with her hands, letting you melt to her touch

"will the loveliest, sweetest, breathtaking, amazing and gorgeous woman have the pleasure of taking the first step with me?"

she coos at your tears, heart breaking at how much you can’t see it

“even when you cry you are still so pretty” she wipes your tears, gentle as always, and you can't even push her away anymore. not when she's done more to love you with all of her

maybe it's been hours that passed by, or simply just minutes. time that you don't know how to hold and comprehend when she holds you like you are her universe.

“wouldn't it be nice" she smiles, that smile that lets you fall even further "to let me call you mine?"

"you-" this is the first time in a long time you are choking up a response "i hate you"

all she does is laugh, kissing you again, this one not for the cameras. only because she wants to kiss the woman with the icy walls

"i told you, i'll find love with you"

dahyun doesn’t want anyone else but you

damn anyone that will take you away from her

all she ever wanted was you

from the moment she saw you at the meeting, from the first scene you both acted in together, to late night line practices over instant ramen, at the dressing room half asleep yet still holding her hand after walking back, in each scene that sets you both closer and closer, to each kiss that shouldn’t mean something but kept on lingering

getting into this, she really thought she was just gonna have a fun time, mingle and play along with others

she thinks she's serious with you now, because now she wants you to be a part of her life. as far as the universe will let you

"you’re engraved in my heart, i can’t let you go”