#but i just had to share this with the world

[harrysfolklore]

secret - cs55

summary: carlos has been keeping his relationship secret for 6 months. the world has no idea that he's dating an a list actress

wc: 5.4k words + social media posts. face claim: emilia clarke

folkie radio: guys... why does it feel illegal to post a carlos fic that's not little bitch?? anyway i hope you like this LEAVE FEEDBACK !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

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yourinstagram Spain, you have my heart ❤️

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username1 QUEEN

username2 she’s glowiiiing

arianagrande mother 🤎

username3 imagine being the highest paid actress in hollywood looking like that i wouldn’t take shit from anybody

florencepugh you’re the actual loml

↳ yourinstagram Love you baby flo

username4 single yn is glowing

username5 spain also has my heart but i’ve never been there i’m just obsessed with carlos sainz

username6 carlos sainz in the likes wbk he’s a fan since the first season of game of thrones

anasainzvdec 💓💓

liked by charles_leclerc, yourinstagram and 1,570,487 others

carlossainz55 Short break before heading to Silverstone 🇬🇧

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username1 HOTTEST MAN ALIVE

username2 carlos don’t do this to my ovaries

scuderiaferrari 🌶️🌶️

username3 if he is single who is taking all this boyfriend content

username4 THATS A HUSBAND

blancasainzv 🙌🙌🙌

username5 CARLOS LET ME JUMP ON YOUR BONES

username6 it’s a crime that this man is single looking like this (not really)

landonorris A family man

↳ georgerussell63 😂😂😂

↳ username1 carlando forever

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You stand in front of the mirror, applying the last touches of makeup as sunlight streams through the bedroom window. The reflection shows Carlos lounging on the bed behind you, his dark eyes following your every move. You can't help but smile, feeling the warmth of his gaze.

As you prepare to leave, your mind wanders to the whirlwind romance of the past six months. It all started with a tweet- Carlos expressing his admiration for your character in Game of Thrones. You hadn't known much about Formula 1 then, but his charm and genuine enthusiasm caught your attention.

Fate brought you together at a high-profile fashion event months later. You remember how your heart raced when he approached you, confidently asking for your number. Within days, he'd asked you out on a proper date.

Now, six months later, you're living in a blissful bubble of secrecy. Neither his fellow drivers nor your co-stars have any idea about your relationship. It's a mutual decision - you're both in the spotlight, and this connection feels too important to expose to the world's scrutiny just yet.

You've just returned from a short trip to Spain, where Carlos introduced you to his family. The warmth of their welcome still lingers, making you feel even more connected to him. His parents had embraced you immediately, and you'd spent hours laughing and sharing stories with his sisters. The trip reinforced the feeling that you truly belonged in Carlos' life.

"Do you really have to leave?" Carlos asks, his Spanish accent more pronounced in his sleepy state.

"You know I do, darling. This film isn't going to shoot itself," you turn to face him, taking in his tousled hair and bare chest.

Carlos props himself up on his elbows, a playful smirk on his lips. "But I can think of so many better ways to spend the day."

You walk over to the bed, leaning down to place a soft kiss on his lips. "Tempting, but I've got to go. We can't all race cars for a living, you know."

His hand catches yours as you start to pull away. "Just five more minutes?" he pleads, pulling you closer.

You allow yourself to be drawn in, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You're impossible," you say, but there's no real frustration in your voice.

"Impossible to resist, you mean," Carlos wraps an arm around your waist, nuzzling into your neck.

"That too," you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "But seriously, I need to leave soon."

He sighs dramatically, flopping back onto the pillows. "Fine, fine. Go be a famous actress. Leave me here all alone."

"Drama queen," you roll your eyes, standing up. "You've got meetings later anyway."

As you gather your things, Carlos watches you with a mix of admiration and affection.

"You know," he says softly, "sometimes I still can't believe this is real. Us, I mean."

"It's real," you assure him, with a small smile, "And it's ours."

"I guess my obsession with Daenerys Targaryen paid off," Carlos grins, sitting up, "Though I have to say, the real you is even better than any character."

"Smooth talker. No wonder I fell for you so quickly," you roll your eyes playfully as you walk over to the bed, cupping his face in your hands. "As tempting as that is, love, we both have responsibilities. But tonight, it's just us."

He leans into your touch, then pulls you down for a deep kiss. When you part, both slightly breathless, he whispers, "I can't wait."

With a final blown kiss, you slip out of the room, your heart full and a smile on your lips. Another day of keeping your relationship under wraps begins, but you wouldn't have it any other way. Your mind is already counting down the hours until you can be in his arms again, safe in your private world built for two.

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ynupdates YN arriving for filming today in London!

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username1 MY BUBBB

username2 why so serious

username3 she has a movie premiering in two months and she’s already filming another talk about an icon

username4 love the fitttt

username5 streets say she’s got a boyfriend now 👀

↳ username1 source: trust me bro

↳ username2 SPILL THE DEETS

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You sink into the plush couch in Carlos' living room, the aroma of your favorite pasta filling the air. This has become your ritual - intimate dinners at home, safe from prying eyes and camera flashes. Sometimes you cook together, but tonight you've ordered in from that little Italian place Carlos adores.

"This is perfect," you sigh contentedly as Carlos settles beside you, two plates balanced in his hands. "I'll take nosy neighbors over paparazzi any day."

"Agreed," Carlos chuckles, handing you your plate, "Though I'm pretty sure my neighbor thinks I've developed an unhealthy obsession with takeout."

"Little do they know you're just obsessed with me," you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Guilty as charged," he grins, pulling you closer.

As you eat, you share stories about your day. Carlos absently traces patterns on your knee, and you find yourself melting into his touch.

"Oh," you say, remembering suddenly. "My team suggested something interesting today."

"What would that be, amor?" Carlos raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

You take a sip of wine before answering. "They think it would be a good idea for me to attend the Silverstone Grand Prix."

For obvious reasons, you haven't been able to join Carlos for a race since your relationship began. The need for secrecy and your busy schedules have kept you from sharing this crucial part of his life.

So when your team suggested you should attend the British Grand Prix at Silverstone to promote your new movie, you felt a surge of excitement. The prospect of finally seeing Carlos in his element, even if you had to pretend not to know each other, made you giddy.

"Really? That's... wow," Carlos said, his eyes twinkling.

"Don't get too excited," you nudge him playfully. "We'll have to pretend we barely know each other, you know."

Carlos groans dramatically, flopping back against the couch. "You mean I can't sweep you off your feet in front of thousands of fans? How will I cope?"

You laugh, setting your plate aside to cuddle closer to him. "I'm sure you'll manage. Just think of it as acting practice for both of us."

He wraps an arm around you, his voice growing softer. "You know, I always imagined the first race you'd attend would be as my girlfriend. With everyone knowing how lucky I am."

"I know, love," your heart swells at his words. "But hey, we'll still be together, even if no one else knows it."

Carlos nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You're right. And I am happy you'll be there. Even if I have to pretend I'm not crazy about you."

"Well, there's no pretending now," you look up at him, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Show me just how crazy about me you are."

With a playful growl, Carlos pulls you onto his lap, dinner forgotten as his lips find yours. In moments like these, the secrecy feels worth it - these moments are yours alone, untouched by the outside world.

As you break apart, slightly breathless, Carlos murmurs against your lips, "Maybe we can sneak a moment at Silverstone. A secret rendezvous in the paddock?"

"Now that would make headlines", you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "'Famous actress and F1 star caught canoodling behind the garages.'"

"Worth it," Carlos grins, pulling you in for another kiss.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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carlossainz55 Beyond excited for Silverstone this weekend. Let’s do this 🙌

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username1 MY MAN

username2 he’s really the hottest man alive

scuderiaferrari We got this 😌

username3 SILVERSTONE MORE LIKE CARLOSTONE

username4 manifesting another silverstone win

username5 my girl yn in the likes she’s so real

landonorris 🥵🥵🥵🥵

↳ username1 these two being single right now just means they get to be menaces

↳ carlossainz55 Weird

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The early morning light filters through the curtains of your bedroom as you help Carlos adjust his red Ferrari hoodie. Your fingers linger on his shoulders, savoring these last private moments before the chaos of race day begins.

"Remember," you tease, smoothing down his collar, "hands to yourself out there, Sainz."

"That might be a challenge, amor," Carlos grins, his eyes sparkling, "Especially with you wearing my number."

You playfully swat his arm, adjusting the Ferrari cap with Carlos' number that sits atop your head. "I mean it. We've managed to keep this under wraps for six months. Let's not blow our cover now."

"Fine, fine," he pulls you close, nuzzling your neck, "But you owe me for this torture."

"Torture, is it?" you laugh, tilting your head to give him better access. "Such a dramatic driver I've fallen for."

"In all honesty," Carlos pulls back, his expression suddenly serious, "I wish I could shout it from the podium today. That I'm the luckiest man in the world because I have you."

"Soon," you promise, cupping his face. "For now, let's enjoy our little secret."

With a final, lingering kiss, Carlos reluctantly steps away. "I'd better go. See you out there, amor."

"Go get 'em, tiger."

Hours later, you arrive at the circuit, your stomach fluttering with nerves. The Ferrari cap with Carlos' number feels like a subtle declaration, a secret sign that only you and Carlos truly understand.

"We'll start with Ferrari," your manager explains. "Given your... interest in the team."

You nod, fighting to keep your expression neutral. If only she knew the real reason for your interest.

As you approach the Ferrari garage, you spot Charles Leclerc first. Carlos had told you stories about his teammate before – his skill on the track, his competitive nature, and his charming personality. Now, seeing him in person, you understand why he's such a fan favorite.

Charles notices you approaching and breaks into a warm smile. He steps forward, extending his hand. "Hello there! I'm Charles Leclerc. Big fan."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Charles," you shake his hand, returning the smile. "I've heard great things about you."

"All good, I hope," he chuckles. "Is this your first time at a Grand Prix?"

"It is! I'm thrilled to be here. The energy is incredible already."

"Oh, just wait until the race starts. There's nothing quite like it." He pauses, then adds, "Have you met my teammate yet? He's around here somewhere..."

As if on cue, you hear a familiar voice behind you. "Did someone mention me?"

Your heart skips a beat as Carlos approaches and it takes every ounce of your acting skills to keep your expression neutral as he extends his hand.

"Carlos Sainz," he introduces himself, a cocky smirk on his lips, "Welcome to our garage."

As you shake his hand, you're hyper-aware of every point of contact. This man knows every inch of you, has held you countless times, yet here you are, pretending to be strangers. It's thrilling and frustrating all at once.

"It's great to meet you both," you manage to say, proud of how steady your voice sounds. "I can't wait to see you race."

"Well I hope we make a good first impression," Carlos said, and the look in his eyes told you that it was taking everything in him to keep his hands away from you.

"Carlos is being modest," Charles chimes in. "He's had some of his best performances here. You might be in for a treat today."

You raise an eyebrow, glancing at Carlos. "Is that so? Well, now I'm even more excited to watch."

Carlos rubs the back of his neck, a gesture you know is partly genuine modesty and partly an act. "Charles exaggerates. But I'll do my best to put on a good show for you- I mean, for all the fans."

"I'm sure you both will," you say, including Charles in your gaze to avoid suspicion.

A crew member approaches, informing Carlos and Charles that they're needed for a pre-race briefing shortly, and at the same time, a photographer appears asking for a picture. You pose with Charles first and shortly after Carlos stands next to you, his hand almost squeezing your waist sending shivers down your spine.

After the photo, you reluctantly step away. "I should let you get to your briefing. Good luck in the race, gentlemen!"

As you walk away, Charles say to Carlos, "She's gorgeous, isn't she?"

Carlos feels a sudden pang of jealousy, fighting the urge to declare that you're his. Instead, he replies with a smug tone, "She certainly is. But remember, we're here to race, not to admire the guests."

You make your way to the McLaren garage, where you're introduced to Lando Norris, Carlos' best friend. Lando's infectious energy has you laughing within minutes. You can see why he and Carlos get along so well, and you find yourself wishing you could share stories about your boyfriend with his best friend.

As you're about to leave the McLaren garage, your phone buzzes with a text from Carlos.

Against your better judgment, you find yourself making excuses to your team and heading towards Carlos' driver's room. You slip inside, closing the door behind you and praying no one saw you.

Carlos is there in an instant, pulling you into his arms. "Dios mio, do you know how hard it was to keep my hands off you out there?"

"Behave yourself, Sainz," you laugh, melting into his embrace, "We have an image to maintain."

"Oh? And what image is that?" he pulls back, his eyes twinkling, "Because right now, all I can think about is how adorable you look in my cap."

"Flatterer," you tease, running your hands up his chest, admiring how the race suit fits him. "You don't look so bad yourself in this. First time I'm seeing it in person, you know."

Carlos grins, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. "Like what you see?"

"Maybe," you say coyly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "But shouldn't you be focusing on the race?"

"You're killing me, hermosa," he groans dramatically, pulling you back against him, "How am I supposed to focus on driving when all I can think about is you?"

"Well," you suggest, "Maybe you need some motivation. Win the race, and I'll give you a proper celebration later."

"Now that's what I call incentive," he pecked your lips, and suddenly his eyes light up with an idea. He reaches for his phone. "Wait, I need a picture of you in that cap. My good luck charm."

You roll your eyes but pose anyway, tilting the cap at a jaunty angle. Carlos snaps the photo, grinning widely.

"Perfect," he says, showing you the result. "This is going to be my new favorite picture."

You're about to reply when a knock at the door makes you both freeze. "Carlos? Are you in there? Last pre-race briefing in two minutes," comes a voice from outside.

You stifle a giggle as Carlos calls back, "Be right there!"

He turns back to you, stealing one last passionate kiss before reluctantly stepping away. "This isn't over," he promises.

"I should hope not," you tease, straightening his collar. "Now go out there and make me proud."

As Carlos heads for the door, he pauses, looking back at you with a soft smile. "Te amo, YN."

"I love you too. Now go be the champion I know you are."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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f1world THESE TWO 🥹🥹🙌

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username1 AHHH THEY LOOK SO CUTE

username2 i bet carlos’ fanboy ass was shaking

username3 they look so good together hello????

username4 not yn zendaya-ing

username5 HER SMILE

username6 love them so much they should date

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yourinstagram SILVERSTONE. In another life I was a F1 driver. Yesterday I got to hang out with real ones and their pretty pretty cars. And I did not play it cool 😌

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username1 AHHHH ICON

username2 QUEEN OF THE PADDOCK

username3 she should go to every gp idc

scuderiaferarri You’re welcome anytime 🙌

username4 “got to hang out with real ones” and just posts carlos

username5 WHERE IS MY LANDO X YN PIC

emmacorrin 😍😍😍😍

username6 CARLOSYN YES

charles_leclerc Lovely to meet you 😘

↳ username1 and she didn’t post him help

carlossainz55 An absolute pleasure to chat with you 😉

↳ yourinstagram Likewise !

↳ username2 DATE

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carlossainz55 Triple header done, time to recharge and come back stronger in Hungary! 💪🏻

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username1 CHILIIIIII

username2 of course he was going to post his pic with yn he's such a fanboy

username3 ICONS IN THE THIRD PIC

scuderiaferrari Always the Smooth Operator 🌶️

username4 YN'S FACE IN THE THIRD PIC

username5 i ship carlos and yn

username6 i like the british gp bc actual cool celebrities attend not like the miami gp

yourinstagram Amazing weekend ❤️

↳ username1 HELLOOOOOO

deuxmoi has added to their stories

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

After the excitement of Silverstone, reality had set in quickly. You had to fly to Switzerland for your latest film project, while Carlos was called to Maranello for team duties. The goodbye had been bittersweet.

Now, a week later, you're on set in Switzerland, immersed in the world of your latest film. The day has been long, filled with intense scenes and multiple takes. As you trudge back to your trailer, your mind wanders to your boyfriend, wishing you could share the day's triumphs and frustrations with him, but he was miles away.

You open the trailer door, lost in thought, and nearly jump out of your skin when you see a figure inside. Your heart rate skyrockets, then immediately settles as you recognize the familiar silhouette.

"Carlos?" you whisper, a mix of shock and joy coursing through you. "What are you doing here?"

He turns, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Surprise, baby!"

You rush into his arms, all exhaustion forgotten as he envelops you in a warm embrace. The familiar scent of his cologne wraps around you, and you feel the tension in your body melt away.

But as quickly as the joy comes, worry follows. You pull back slightly, glancing nervously at the door. "Carlos, how did you even get in here what if someone sees you? We can't risk-"

He silences your concerns with a gentle kiss. "Relax, amor. I was careful. No one saw me come in."

Despite your worries, you can't help but lean into him again, savoring the feeling of being in his arms after a week apart.

"I've missed you," you murmur against his chest.

"I've missed you too," he replies, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back, "It's like I'm addicted to you, I can't be apart from you for too long."

You look up at him, taking in the warmth in his brown eyes, the slight stubble on his jaw that you love to trace with your fingers. The realization of how much you've missed him hits you all at once, and you pull him down for a deeper kiss.

When you part, both slightly breathless, you can't help but laugh softly. "This is crazy, you know. What if my co-stars come knocking?"

"Then I'll hide in the closet like a teenager sneaking around. It'll be exciting."

He shrugged and you playfully swat his arm, but you can't deny the thrill of having him here, in your space, surrounded by the world of your work.

"How long can you stay?" you ask, hoping against hope that it's more than just a fleeting visit.

"I have to leave early tomorrow," he says, a hint of regret in his voice, "I know it's not much time together but I really needed to see you, kiss you, just be with you."

"I have to go back to filming now," you say reluctantly. "But I'll be done in a few hours."

Carlos nods understandingly. "Go, cariño. I'll wait here in your trailer. Maybe I'll raid your snack stash," he adds with a playful wink.

You laugh, giving him one last quick kiss before heading out. "Behave yourself, Sainz."

The rest of your filming flies by, your spirits lifted by the knowledge that Carlos is waiting for you. As soon as the director calls wrap, you hurry back to your trailer, your heart racing with anticipation.

Carlos is lounging on your small couch when you return, scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you enter, his face breaking into a warm smile. "There's my star."

You collapse into his arms, sighing contentedly. "I still can't believe you're here."

After a few moments of just holding each other, you both decide it's time to head to your hotel. You peek out of the trailer, checking if the coast is clear.

"Okay, I think we're good," you whisper, grabbing Carlos' hand and making a dash for it.

You weave between trailers and equipment, your hearts pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Just as you're about to round the final corner to the parking lot, you spot a crew member heading your way.

"Quick, behind here," Carlos whispers urgently, pulling you behind a large lighting rig.

You both hold your breath as the crew member passes by, mere feet from your hiding spot. Once they're gone, you share a look of relief and almost burst out laughing at the same time. The situation was definitely comic.

As you make your final dash to your car, you hear a surprised voice calling your name from behind you. Turning slightly, you see one of the production assistants, their eyes wide with surprise as they take in the sight of you and Carlos hand-in-hand.

Without stopping, you give a quick wave and a "Goodnight!" before practically diving into your car. Carlos follows suit, and you peel out of the parking lot perhaps a bit faster than necessary. Thank god you're not the race car driver in the relationship.

Once you're on the road, you let out a long breath. "Well, that was close,"

"It's okay, amor," Carlos reaches over to squeeze your hand reassuringly, "Even if they saw us, it doesn't have to mean anything."

"But what if they start asking questions?" you glance at him, unconvinced, "Or worse, what if they tell someone? Deuxmoi is already onto us after Silverstone, what if someone tips them?"

"I still don't understand what Deuxmoi is," Carlos looked at you with confusion, which made you laugh, "But we'll deal with it. Remember, we haven't done anything wrong. We're just two people who care about each other."

You nod, trying to let his words calm you. "I know, I know. It's just... I'm not ready for the world to know yet. To have our relationship picked apart and speculated about."

Carlos brings your hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "I understand. And we'll do everything we can to keep our privacy."

"Okay," you agree, offering him a small smile. "Thank you for always knowing how to calm me down."

"It's because I love you," Carlos says simply, his eyes warm as they meet yours at a stoplight.

The rest of the drive passes in comfortable conversation. By the time you reach the hotel, you're feeling much more relaxed, ready to enjoy your time together.

As you park the car, Carlos turns to you with a mischievous grin. "Now, shall we make another escape to your room, or do you think we can manage to walk in like normal people this time?"

"I think we can risk it. But if anyone asks, you're just my very attractive Swiss tour guide."

"Tour guide, huh?" Carlos waggles his eyebrows. "I can think of a few places I'd like to show you."

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you get out of the car. "Come on, horndog. Let's go before you get us into more trouble."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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gossiphub Guess who got caught sneaking out of a movie set in Switzerland? None other than actress YN and Ferrari driver Carlos Sainz! 📸 These two were seen holding hands and looking super close. Could this be the start of a new power couple? What are your thoughts?

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username1 OMFGGGG

username2 AH I KNEW IT

username3 this was expected after silverstone

username4 THE POWER THIS HOLDS

username5 the couple we didn’t know we needed

username6 YALL what if they’ve been actually dating for longer 😭

username7 I NEED MORE OF THIS

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sainznews “YN is someone I admire a lot. Right now, though, I'm fully focused on the season and my performance on the track. I prefer to keep my personal life separate from my professional life.” -Carlos today !

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username1 BROOOO

username2 he said you’re NAWT getting details

username3 bold of the interviewer to ask 😭

username4 i really want them to be a couple but maybe they’re just friends

username5 COME ON SPILL THE DEETS

username6 oh well

username7 his ass was shaking

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yourinstagram The train ride home ❣️

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username1 iconic behavior

username2 girl come here address the rumors

gemmachan A beauty 🤍🤍

daisyedgarjones 🥹🥹

username3 i love that both of them are just playing dumb

username4 CARLOS IN THE LIKES

username5 ah shit they’re not going to confirm anything

username6 CARLOSYN IS REAL

username7 potential it couple and they’re playing dumb

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The headlines hit like a tidal wave after your Swiss rendezvous. "A List Actress Spotted with F1 Star Carlos Sainz!" "YN and Carlos Sainz: Secret Romance?" Paparazzi photos of your flooded gossip sites and social media. Fans and media alike dissecting every detail of the grainy images.

You and Carlos spent hours on the phone, figuring out your response. "Maybe we should just confirm it," Carlos suggested one night, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Not yet," you replied, biting your lip. "Let's wait for it to die down a bit. We don't owe them an explanation."

So you played it cool, neither confirming nor denying the rumors. Carlos deflected questions at press conferences with his characteristic charm, while you posted on social media as if nothing had changed. It was stressful, constantly looking over your shoulders, but you managed to keep your relationship under wraps for a little longer.

However, as the world premiere of your movie approached, you made a decision. Curled up on the couch with Carlos during a rare weekend together, you turned to him, tracing patterns on his chest.

"I've been thinking," you started, your heart racing.

Carlos looked at you, his eyes soft. "About what, cariño?"

You took a deep breath. "I want you to come with me to the premiere. As my date. I'm ready for the world to know about us."

Carlos' face lit up with pure joy. He sat up, pulling you onto his lap. "Really? You're sure about this?"

"I'm sure," you nodded, cupping his face, "I love you, Carlos. I'm tired of hiding it."

He peppered your face with kisses, unable to contain his excitement. "I love you too, YN. So much. You have no idea how happy this makes me."

"I think I have some idea," you teased, gesturing to his beaming face.

Carlos pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours. "No more sneaking around? No more pretending we're just friends?"

"No more," you confirmed.

He kissed you deeply, pouring all his love and excitement into it. When you parted, both slightly breathless, Carlos grinned. "So, do I get to coordinate my tie with your dress?"

"Is that all you're thinking about? Fashion?" you rolled your eyes affectionately.

"No," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "I'm also thinking about how I get to show off the most beautiful, talented woman in the world as my girlfriend."

The night of the premiere arrived quicker than you expected. Carlos looked devastatingly handsome in a sharp black suit, his hair perfectly styled. As you put the finishing touches on your makeup, you caught him watching you in the mirror, his eyes full of adoration.

"What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

He shook his head, smiling softly. "Nothing. I just can't believe how lucky I am."

In the limo on the way to the theater, Carlos took your hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin. "Nervous?" he asked.

You nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "A little. You?"

"Excited," he replied, bringing your hand to his lips for a soft kiss. As the limo approached the theater, you could already hear the roar of the crowd. Carlos pulled you close, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. "Remember, no matter what happens out there, it's just you and me. Okay?"

"You and me."

The limo door opened, and suddenly you were blinded by camera flashes. Carlos stepped out first, then turned to offer you his hand. As you emerged, the crowd's volume doubled. Carlos kept his hand on the small of your back, a constant reassuring presence as you made your way down the carpet.

When you reached the photo spot, he pulled you close, his arm wrapping securely around your waist. The crowd went wild, cameras clicking furiously. You could hear reporters shouting questions, but you focused on Carlos, on the warmth of his touch and the love in his eyes.

As you made your way down the carpet, Carlos couldn't seem to keep his hands off you. He'd lean in to in your ear, his hand never leaving your waist. At one point, he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, sending the photographers into a frenzy.

You stopped for a few interviews, Carlos by your side the whole time. When asked about your relationship, you simply smiled and said, "We're very happy together." Carlos would beam at you, his pride evident in every glance.

By the time you entered the theater, you were both giddy with excitement and relief. As you took your seats, Carlos leaned over, his lips brushing your ear. "You were amazing out there. I love you so much."

You turned to him, your heart full. "I love you too. Thank you for being here with me."

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gossiphub 🚨🚨CARLOS SAINZ AND YN HAVE ARRIVED TOGETHER AT HER PREMIERE IN LONDON

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username1 OMGGGGG

username2 I CANNOT BELIEVE MY EYES

username3 IT WAS REAL ALL THIS TIME

username4 power couple of the century

username5 they look so cunty omg f1 needed a couple like this

username6 FACE ECONOMY TOGETHER

username7 IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS TIME

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yourinstagram My handsome date 🥰

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username1 AHHHHH

username2 CARLOS I WASNT FAMILIAR WITH YOUR GAME

username3 man he is so HOT

andrewgarfield Can you get me tickets for a Grand Prix?

↳ username1 HEEEEELP

↳ yourinstagram 🙄🙄🙄

↳ carlossainz55 You’re welcome anytime, mate!

username4 yn blessing us with boyfriend carlos content already

username5 this relationship is the best thing that happened to us

landonorris Oh he showers

↳ maxverstappen1 Really impressive

↳ username1 THE GRID IS HERE

↳ carlossainz55 Cabrones

carlossainz55 I love you mi amor ❤️❤️

↳ yourinstagram 🥹

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carlossainz55 My 👸❤️

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username1 OH LORDDD

username2 SIMP CARLOS

username3 he’s so in love my heart

scuderiaferarri ❤️

anasainzvdec Hermosa!

blancasainzv 🤍🤍🤍

username4 this relationship is a blessing for real

username5 CARLOS POSTING HIS GF???? HIS A LIST ACTRESS GF ?????

username6 i love them sm

username7 how long do you think he waited before turning his insta into a fanpage of her

fernandoalo_oficial 👏👏👏

pierregasly Double dates?

↳ francisca.cgomes PRETTY PLEASE

↳ yourinstagram Absolutely 🥰

yourinstagram I loveeeeeee youuuuu

↳ carlossainz55 ❤️

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The Dutch Grand Prix in Zandvoort, the first race after the summer break. You were attending again, but this time, you walked into the paddock hand-in-hand with Carlos. There was no need for secrecy. You were here as his girlfriend, and the world knew it.

Fans call out your names as you make your way through the paddock, and you both wave, Carlos' arm protectively around your waist. The comfort of being able to show your affection openly still feels thrilling.

As you approach the Ferrari garage, you spot Charles chatting with some engineers. He turns and breaks into a wide grin at the sight of you two.

"Well, well, if it isn't the happy couple!" Charles calls out, walking over to greet you.

"Charles, I don't think you've been properly introduced to my girlfriend yet," Carlos laughs, pulling you closer.

You exchange pleasantries, and then Charles shakes his head, chuckling. "You know, I feel terrible now. I literally wanted to ask you out that day at Silverstone because I had no idea you were together!"

You all share a laugh at the irony, and Carlos playfully narrows his eyes at his teammate. "Watch it, Leclerc. She's taken."

"Be nice, darling," you swat Carlos' arm lightly, "Charles is just being honest."

As you watched Carlos chat animatedly with his teammate, you couldn't help but feel a sense of rightness. This was where you belonged, by Carlos' side, sharing in his world.

"Carlos, we need you for a quick strategy briefing," the engineer said, glancing at his watch.

Carlos nodded, then turned to you with an apologetic smile. "Duty calls, amor. I shouldn't be too long."

"No worries," you assured him. "I'll find ways to entertain myself."

He leaned in, kissing you softly. "I'll text you when I'm done," he promised, then followed his engineer out of the room.

With some time to kill, you decided to explore the paddock. It felt liberating to walk around openly, no longer worried about being spotted or sparking rumors. As you passed the McLaren garage, a familiar voice called out to you.

"Well, if it isn't Mrs. Smooth Operator herself!"

You turned to see Lando Norris grinning at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Lando!" you greeted him warmly. "How are you?"

"I'm good, but more importantly, how are you?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Finally free from the chains of secrecy, eh?"

You recalled the night when the headlines about your relationship with Carlos had broken, and Lando had been the first to reach out. That evening, over dinner at your place, you and Carlos had shared the story of your six-month secret romance with him. Lando had been surprisingly supportive, and since then, he'd become a close confidant and ally.

You chatted with him for a bit, he was someone always fun to talk to and you were happy Carlos had someone like him in his life.

Just then, your phone buzzed with a text from Carlos.

"Let me guess," Lando said, a knowing smirk on his face. "Lover boy is calling?"

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. "As a matter of fact, yes. I should probably go."

"Go on then," Lando shooed you away playfully, "Go be disgustingly in love somewhere else."

You laughed, giving him a quick hug before heading towards the Ferrari hub. As you walked, you felt happy to be able to walk openly into his private space without worrying about prying eyes or rumors.

You knocked softly on the door of his driver's room. "Come in," Carlos called out.

As you entered, you found Carlos sitting on the small couch, still in his casual team gear. He looked up, his face breaking into a warm smile as he saw you.

"Hey you," he said, standing up and crossing the room to pull you into an embrace.

"Hey yourself," you replied, melting into his arms. "How are you feeling?"

Carlos pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your waist. "Better now that you're here," he said, his eyes twinkling.

You laughed softly, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Charmer. But really, how are you?"

He took a deep breath, his expression turning more serious. "A little nervous, if I'm honest. The pressure is high here."

"That's natural," you nodded understandingly, your hand coming to rest on his cheek, "But Carlos, you're amazing. You've got this."

"Thank you, cariño," he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly, "Your support means everything to me."

For a moment, you both stood there in comfortable silence, foreheads touching, breathing each other in. There was no rush, no fear of discovery. Just the two of you, sharing a quiet moment before the storm of the race.

"I love that we can do this now," you murmured, breaking the silence. "No sneaking around, no looking over our shoulders."

Carlos smiled, pulling you closer. "Me too. It feels right, doesn't it? Having you here with me, openly by my side."

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion. "It does. I'm so proud to be with you, Carlos. To support you."

His eyes softened, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. You responded eagerly, pouring all your love and support into the gesture.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," you replied, your fingers tracing patterns on the back of his neck.

A knock on the door interrupted your moment. "Ten minutes, Carlos," came a voice from outside.

"I should go," you said reluctantly, but Carlos held onto your hand.

"Stay with me?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "Just for a few more minutes?"

You nodded, squeezing his hand. "Of course."

You sat together on the small couch, Carlos's arm around you, your head resting on his shoulder. No words were needed; your presence was enough to calm his pre-race nerves.

As the minutes ticked by, you felt Carlos take a deep breath, his body shifting as he prepared mentally for the race ahead.

"Time to go be a superhero," you said softly, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

Carlos smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before standing up. "Wait for me at the finish line?"

"Always."

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yourinstagram Heart eyes for my smooth operator 🥰

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username1 AWEEEE

username2 she’s down bad

arianagrande glowiiiing ✨

username3 couple of the century

username4 i love how they were keeping it lowkey but now they can’t stop posting each other as they should

scuderiaferarri Our paddock queen ❤️

username5 yn don’t get used to the ferrari red you’ll be wearing blue next year

username6 GET MARRIED ALREADY

anasainzvdec 😍

username7 every time the camera showed her she was either panicking or grinning from ear to ear I LOVE HER

carlossainz55 Mi amor 🤍

↳ username1 CARLOSSS

↳ username2 that should be me

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carlossainz55 P10 ➡️ P5! Beyond happy to share the race with my love @/yourinstagram 😘 Special weekend ahead at Monza, can’t wait to race in front of our Tifosi!

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username1 AHHHHHH

username2 BEST COUPLE EVER

username3 YN DID HOT LAPS WITH CARLOS !!!!

↳ username1 BEST VIDEO EVER

↳ username2 I LOVE THEM SO BAD

scuderiaferarri The Tifosi awaits ❤️

anasainzvdec 🙌

username4 VAMOS CARLITOS

username5 yn and carlos sainz dating is the best thing ever

charles_leclerc 👌👌👌

yourinstagram I love you 🥰🥰 I could get used to this

↳ username1 QUEEN NEVER LEAVE THE PADDOCK

↳ username2 we need her at every race

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

The First Time

Pairing || Beefy!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary || Bucky takes your virginity.

World Count || 3414

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Smut — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, pet names, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, protected vaginal sex, oral (female receiving), mention of bodily fluids.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Beefy!Bucky Masterlist

You and Bucky had been in a relationship together for three incredible months now. Before that, you and he had been friends for two years. You have had a crush on him for what felt like forever, your heart skipping a beat every time he smiled at you, but you never had the courage to do anything about it due to your previous relationships.

It took a little matchmaking from your mutual friend, Natasha, who knew that you were both pining for each other, for Bucky to finally ask you out since he had been holding those same feelings for you all along.

One of the reasons that it had taken him such a long time to ask you out was his deep-seated insecurities. The weight of his past still haunted him, and he was terrified that you would end up hurt because of him. But you wanted nothing more than to be with him.

You cherished every moment of your friendship with Bucky, but these past three months of dating had been absolutely magical, filled with tender moments.

One thing that had been absent in your relationship was sex. Bucky was incredibly attentive to your comfort, never once pressuring you with the topic of sex, always letting you set the pace.

During those heated make-out sessions on his worn leather sofa, when his touches became more passionate and his breathing more ragged, he always stopped to check on you, his blue eyes filled with concern and care. When you told him you weren’t in the mood, he would simply kiss your temple softly, pull you close against his warm chest, and hold you there, making you feel safe and cherished.

But you hadn’t been entirely honest with him about something important. The real reason you avoided taking things further during passionate moments was your virginity. Past experiences had made it difficult to open up about it because previous boyfriends had mocked you for it, leaving you with deep trust issues.

But Bucky was different, you knew it. His gentle soul, caring nature, and dedication to your happiness and comfort made you feel safe in a way you had never felt before. Tonight, you were ready to open up to him. You were ready to share this intimate truth with him and hopefully take this next step in your relationship together.

You found yourself on his sofa after an exhausting day at work. Your lips moved together in perfect sync as his strong hands, flesh and metal, held your waist with just the right amount of pressure. Your fingers were tangled in his soft hair, keeping him close as you lost yourself in the moment. The movie playing in the background became nothing more than white noise.

His lips felt incredible against yours, soft yet demanding, as his hands explored your curves with touches that sent tingles through your body. The desire to go further, to feel more of him, was overwhelming. It was stronger than you have ever felt before.

But that familiar voice of insecurity whispered in the back of your mind, bringing a wave of anxiety with it. What if Bucky was just like the others? What if your virginity was a deal-breaker to him? Deep in your heart, you knew he would never react that way.

When his warm hand slipped under your shirt, slowly inching higher towards your breasts, you forced yourself to pause.

“Bucky, wait.” He immediately pulled back, his blue eyes meeting yours with concern, panic flashing across his features. “I’m sorry, doll, if I went too far.” His thumb gently caressed your cheek, his face portraying genuine worry and apology.

“N-no, it’s not that. I-I liked that, I just… I need to tell you something.” He nodded encouragingly, his patient silence giving you the strength to continue.

Here goes nothing.

“I’m a virgin,” you whispered, ducking your head in embarrassment. His fingers gently caught your chin, tilting your face back up to meet his gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared and ashamed that you… that you may not want me if you knew,” your voice trembled as you poured out to him, and despite your best efforts to stay composed, a tear escaped, rolling down your cheek. Your past rejections weighed heavily on your heart in this vulnerable moment.

“Don’t want you?” He shook his head, his expression softening as he caught your tear with his thumb. “I want nothing more than you, doll. I hope I’ve never made you uncomfortable. I never want you to feel pressured to have sex with me. Never.” His voice was thick with emotion, so full of sincerity that it made your heart flutter.

You surprised him with a sweet kiss. The moment couldn’t have been more perfect—his acceptance lifted a weight you had been carrying for so long.

“You’ve never pressured me, Bucky. You have always been respectful and understanding.”

He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before leaning his body against yours, his warmth and comfort enveloping you. “How about we just cuddle tonight?” His hands tenderly cupped your cheeks as he placed a feather-light kiss on the tip of your nose.

You shook your head, bringing his lips back to yours in a passionate, searing kiss. The desire coursing through your veins was overwhelming—you wanted him more than ever, you needed to feel him completely.

“I want you, Bucky. I’ve never wanted anything more. Please…”

“Are you sure? We don’t have to if you’re not ready. I can wait for as long as you need.”

“I’ve never been so sure of something in my life as this. I trust you completely.”

In one fluid movement, he pulled you to straddle his lap, making you gasp. The atmosphere was growing heavy with your shared desire and anticipation.

“Say it again, doll,” he murmured in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

“I want you, Bucky. Please.”

He picked you up with strong, sure hands, making you shriek with delight as he carried you bridal-style to his bedroom. Laying you carefully down on the plush mattress, he pressed his warm body against yours, and you reveled in the delicious weight of him on top as he kissed you breathless. His kisses were deep and passionate, filled with such pure adoration that your heart fluttered in your chest.

He reached back and tugged off his red Henley, revealing his perfect physique inch by tantalizing inch. Bucky wasn’t just painfully beautiful, he was also hot. Your fingers itched to trace his skin, to feel his perfect body. Next, he slowly removed his pants, leaving him only in his tight black underwear. The impressive outline of him was clearly visible through the thin fabric, making your breath catch.

“Can I please undress you?” His voice was husky with desire but still gentle, his hair falling over his eyes.

You nodded eagerly while biting your bottom lips, your chest rising and falling with quick breaths. Although desire coursed hot through your veins, you couldn’t help but feel shy at the thought of being completely exposed before him. Bucky, ever so attentive, sensed your slight hesitation.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, doll. We can take things slow. At your own tempo.” His eyes were soft with understanding.

“I want to keep going. I-I’m just a little nervous,” you murmured, biting the inside of your cheek while your fingers fidgeted.

He traced your brow with the pad of his thumb, his touch feather-light and soothing, his voice warm and reassuring. “We’re in this together, You and me. I want to make this as perfect and comfortable as I possibly can for you.”

“Keep going, please. Undress me and make me yours.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but filled with trust.

With a quick, tender kiss to your lips, he helped remove your clothing piece by piece, his movements slow. As each article was discarded, his eyes grew wider, a dark mixture of adoration and burning hunger. He left you bra and panties on, giving you time to get comfortable. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on,” he breathed.

He kissed you passionately before his lips began a torturous journey downward, leaving a trail of heated kisses across your neck, paying special attention to that sensitive spot underneath your ear. His lips and tongue worked together perfectly, making you hum as your fingers threaded through his hair. The path of kisses led him to the valley between your breasts, where he paused to look up at you for permission, which you gave. His hands, one warm flesh and one cool metal, reached underneath you to unclasp your bra. Once removed, his attention was on your exposed skin. He worshiped every inch with his lips and tongue, and when he finally took your sensitive nipples into his mouth, altering between gentle sucks and teasing flicks, you couldn’t help but arch into his touch and release a breathy moan.

He looked up at you, his lips parted and pupils dilated, and hair falling deliciously over his face. Your eyes widened, suddenly feeling self-conscious about your vocal response, but Bucky’s reassuring smile immediately put you at ease.

“I don’t want you to hold back. Make any sound that you want so I know what makes you feel good. I want you to enjoy yourself, doll.” His voice was rough with desire but still so tender.

He continued his descent, placing open-mouthed kisses across your stomach, each touch and kiss sending sparks of pleasure through your body. The further down he went, leaving a trail of heat in his wake, the more your legs parted instinctively, anticipating what was to come. Your body seemed to know exactly what it wanted, even if your mind was racing with nervousness.

Once he was finally nestled between your open legs, he looked up at you through hooded eyes, his breath ragged and pupils blown with desire. “Can I taste you?” He murmured, his hot breath fanning across your covered core, making your back arch slightly and goosebumps ghosting your skin. You frantically nodded, your whole body trembling with anticipation, needing him to continue, wanting desperately to feel his mouth on your most intimate part.

He carefully, and slowly, pulled down your panties, his metal hand cool against your heated skin. Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you were sure he could hear it. You have never gone this far before, but you trusted Bucky completely. You knew he would take care of you.

Bucky’s tongue traced his lower lip as he saw you bare and exposed, already wet and ready for his mouth. He spread your legs wider with gentle but firm hands to get a perfect view of your pussy, his eyes darkening at the sight before him.

“So beautiful,” he murmured while placing soft, teasing kisses along your inner thigh, slowly working his way towards your waiting pussy. When his tongue finally licked a broad stripe up your center, he kept his intense gaze locked on your face, studying your reactions to learn what made you feel good. You let out a surprise gasp at the unfamiliar yet incredible delicious sensation. He did it once more, this time slower and with more pressure, and you threw your head back into the pillows while gripping his dark locks between your trembling fingers.

“O-oh, t-that’s good,” you moaned breathlessly as Bucky worshiped you with his mouth. His lips wrapped around your sensitive clit, expertly switching between sucking and flicking with his tongue, while his metal hand held your hip steady to keep you from squirming. Your senses were completely overwhelmed with pleasure, every nerve ending on fire. If he kept going at this pace, you were going to come embarrassingly soon, but Bucky took notice and suddenly released you. You let out a frustrated whimper as the pending orgasm was ripped from you, your body still trembling with need.

“Hmm, you taste absolutely incredible, doll. The way you respond to me drives me wild,” he murmured against your inner thigh, his hot breath making you shiver. “As much as I would love to feel you come undone on my tongue as I watch you fall apart, I need to be inside you. I want us to come together, want to feel you wrapped around me when we both let go.”

He captured your lips in a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing together desperately as you savored the taste of each other. His metal hand cupped your cheek while his flesh one traced patterns on your hip. “Don’t move,” he murmured against your swollen lips. “I’ll go get a condom.” He gave you one last lingering peck before pulling away and disappearing into his bathroom. You could hear him rummaging around frantically for the item, cursing lowly under his breath as more drawers were opened and closed on his mission to find a condom. A few moments later he emerged with it in hand, a victorious smile playing on his lips.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness as he climbed back on top of you, immediately claiming your mouth in another fierce kiss that left you breathless. With trembling fingers, you tugged at his underwear, helping him shimmy out of them. Your hand experimentally wrapped around his length, making him groan deeply against your neck. His mouth fell open as you slowly moved your hand up and down his impressive cock. He was bigger than you’d imagined, and a flutter of nervousness passed through you as you wondered how painful it might be for your first time. But that anxiety was quickly overshadowed by pure want. You needed to feel him inside you, needed his passionate kisses and whispered praises in your ear. You trusted Bucky completely, knowing that he would be gentle and considerate. That he would take care of you like he always did.

You released him from your grip so he could roll the condom on, watching with hooded eyes as he prepared himself. Before you knew it, he was positioning himself between your thighs, his tip pressing against your entrance as he looked deep into your eyes, silently asking permission one final time. “Please,” you breathed out, running your hands up his strong arms. “I’m so ready, Bucky. Please, I want you.”

He slowly pushed inside your tightness, the initial stretch making you whimper and shut your eyes at the slight burning sensation. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you tried to adjust to his size, your breath coming in short gasps.

“Are you OK? Do you want to stop,” he asked with genuine concern, his flesh hand tenderly cradling your face while his metal one held him upright, the plates whirring softly with the strain of holding back. His eyes searched yours intently, ready to pull away at the slightest sign of stress. “N-no, please keep going. I need you.”

When he was fully situated inside you, stretching you deliciously, he took his time to kiss all over your face—your forehead, your closed eyelids, your warm cheeks—making you giggle. His stubble tickled your skin as his journey of tender kisses ended with an achingly sweet one to your lips. “I love you, doll. Thank you for trusting me with this, with everything.”

That was the first time he had said those three precious words to you and it made your heart almost burst out of your chest. “I love you too,” you whispered, cupping his face in your hands and stroking his cheekbones with your thumbs, “now, please move. I want to feel you take me and make me yours completely.”

He pulled out until only his tip remained inside before pushing back in with excruciating slowness, making you moan and cling to him tighter, your nails leaving marks on his broad shoulders. He repeated this careful motion several times, each thrust helping your body adjust to his impressive size.

“Please, Bucky,” you breathed against his lips, your legs hooking around his waist to pull him closer, begging him to take you properly. Your heels dug into his lower back as your body arched underneath him. He let out a deep, throaty groan that sent shivers down your spine and buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking your sensitive skin as his hips began to move with purpose against you.

“You feel incredible, doll,” he groaned against your neck, his hot breath fanning across your heated skin, making you whimper sweetly. Bucky took notice of your reaction, adjusting his hips until he found that perfect spot that made you see stars. your whole body trembling underneath him.

He rested his forehead against yours, his blue eyes, dark with desire, gazed deeply into yours as you climbed higher towards release together. Your fingers tangled in his soft brown hair, tugging lightly as his flesh hand snaked down between your bodies to where you were joined, his skilled fingers finding and circling your sensitive clit. The dual sensation of him stimulating your clit and the tip of his cock brushing your sweet spot made your whole body sing with pleasure, your back arching off the bed. “Oh f-f-fuck, I’m so close, Bucky. Please don’t stop.”

He maintained a steady, passionate rhythm, determined to make you fall apart around him. The thought of him being the first, and hopefully only, to ever make you come undone like this had your head spinning, your vision blurring at the edges as pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak.

“Come for me, baby. I need to feel you,” he breathed against your ear, his voice rough with desire. His words sent electricity down your spine and that was the final push you needed. Your pussy pulsed around him as waves of intense pleasure took complete control over your body. You threw your head back against the pillows as stars exploded behind your vision, your fingers digging into his shoulders. With one final, deep thrust, he spilled inside the condom while burying his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath and muffled moans of pleasure sending shivers across your skin. He continued to move against you with slow, gentle thrusts, drawing out both of your highs until you were shaking underneath him.

As you both started to come down from your shared orgasm, he pressed a series of soft, loving kisses to your lips, making you hum in delight. You hissed at the loss when he carefully pulled out of you, immediately missing the feeling of fullness. He rolled to the side, discarding the condom, before pulling you close, tucking you perfectly against his warm chest. You nestled into his embrace, ear pressed to his chest where you could hear his calming heartbeat, as he traced gentle patterns across your back with his fingertips.

The room fell into a peaceful silence, filled only with the sound of your synchronized breathing as you basked in the afterglow of your shared bliss, savoring each other’s warmth and tender touches. After several minutes of comfortable silence, you were the first one to speak.

“That was absolutely incredible, Bucky,” you whispered against his chest, tilting your head up to meet his adoring gaze. “Thank you for being so sweet and caring, and for making my first time more special than I could have ever imagined.”

“Always, doll,” he responded with a tender smile, his metal hand coming up to gently pinch your chin as he guided your lips to his for a slow, deep kiss. “Thank you for trusting me. I feel like the luckiest man alive to be the first, and I hope only one, to ever make you come like that.”

You giggled softly against his lips, pressing another kiss to them before dropping your voice to a sultry whisper. “Well, lucky for you, Mr. Barnes, you’re the only one who will ever be allowed to make me come like that for the rest of our lives.”

“Hmm, is that a promise, doll?” He playfully growled, his eyes darkening with renewed desire as he swiftly rolled on top of you once more, caging you beneath his strong body. “Because I intend to spend the rest of my life proving just how lucky I am to do so.” His lips descended on yours again, ready to make good on that promise.

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people! I would really appreciate it 🖤

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[beloveds-embrace]

The fire in the hearth had burned down to embers, casting faint, flickering light across the bedroom walls. Outside, the winter winds howled, clawing at the windows of the inn like a restless spirit, yet within these walls, everything was still. Simon lay on the bed, your steady breaths against his naked chest a comfort he didn’t think he deserved or will ever deserve.

And then he dreamed.

The other version of himself, a man he didn’t want to acknowledge as real, stood coldly at the edge of the grand dining table. That Simon was distant, detached, and unfeeling. His eyes swept over the figure sitting at the far end- you- your dress, not from him, crumpled, your face drawn with exhaustion. You were speaking, but your voice was hollow, words whispered into a void he couldn’t reach. The Simon in the dream didn’t even glance at you. His attention was elsewhere, his mind consumed with matters he thought were more important.

Simon didn’t think anything in the world would ever be more important than you, their precious and lovely Duchess. He didn’t understand his other self- didn’t want to ever have that careless view of you.

When you rose to leave, Simon’s nightmare-self didn’t stop you. You’d excused yourself so quietly that no one could have accused you of disturbing the silence. You left, head bowed, retreating to the dark halls of a cold, lifeless manor this Simon couldn’t relate to John’s lively manor.

Yet that Simon didn’t care. He returned to his work, to his whispered conversations with John, to the loving, fleeting glances exchanged with Kyle and Johnny.

Why did you let her leave?

But you- you grew smaller with each passing day. The halls that should have been filled with your laughter were silent. The dresses this Simon had carefully chosen for you did not exist, and thus you were left in dresses old and patched and unfitting, untouched by his hands. You faded, retreating into yourself, and the whispers of the staff about the “mad Duchess” grew louder.

The staff would never talk about you like that. Why did you let them, Simon?

Simon saw it all. He saw the way you flinched when no one looked at you. He saw the way you hesitated to enter a room, unsure if your presence was welcome. He saw you stop eating, stop dressing, stop existing.

The nightmare was a world of suffocating gray.

Simon stood in the grand halls of their shared home, but it wasn’t the home he knows. The walls were stark and barren, the warmth of family portraits and soft candlelight replaced with cold, lifeless shadows. Dust lingered in the air, undisturbed for weeks, maybe months, blanketing everything in the same muted despair.

There were no portraits of you, beyond the singular one of your marriage to John. Your face had been ripped off it.

He searched for you.

Room after room was empty, yet his heart pounded with dread. The dining table was set but untouched, the once vibrant dishes left cold and congealed. In the study, his desk was stacked with neglected lettersa some from you, written in a trembling hand, pleading for his attention, begging for his care. Each word burns itself into his mind: “Am I so unworthy?”

Your bedroom- no, your prison- was the last place he searched. He was afraid of what he’d find, yet he couldn’t stop his feet from carrying him forward. The room was dim, curtains drawn tight as if the light itself has abandoned you. You were there, curled up on the grand bed, your frail frame dwarfed by the heavy, oppressive canopy above.

You looked… so small. So still.

Simon’s heart ached.

Why did you do this to her?

“Love,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he knelt beside you. His gloved hand reached for your cheek, but it was cold. So cold it sent a jolt of terror through him.

You stirred, just barely. Your eyes fluttered open, dull and glassy, but there was no recognition in them.

“Simon?” Your voice was hoarse, barely audible. “What… are you doing here?”

The question was a knife to his chest.

Why wouldn’t I be here? What has my other self done to you?

“I’m here for you, sweetheart,” he choked out, his hands trembling as they cupped your face. You were too cold; Kyle would never leave your room this freezing; Johnny would never let you go to bed hungry and bereft of warm food. “I’m here now.”

But you pulled away, weakly but resolutely, as if his touch was poison.

“You’re always too late.”

The words echoed in the cold, empty room. He tried to protest, tried to pull you into his arms, but you collapse against the pillows, your breath shallow and fading, fading like smoke until-

And then you were gone.

The weight of it crushed him. The silence was unbearable, suffocating, and all he could do was scream your name into the void that took you from him.

Simon woke with a start.

The gasp tore from his throat before he could stop it, his hand flying to your side. You were there- warm, breathing, alive. His chest heaved, sweat beading on his forehead as the remnants of the dream clung to him like cobwebs.

You stirred, your soft murmur of his name breaking through the haze of fear. You sounded soft, groggy- so full of life it nearly brought him to tears. “Simon?”

His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, so close that your sleepy protest was muffled against his chest. “Go back to sleep, love.” He whispered, voice rough. But even as he said it, he knew he wouldn’t be able to.

Hours later, when the sun began to rise, Simon was still awake. He had been watching you, his thumb brushing against your knuckles as he memorized every detail of your face. The soft curve of your lips, the way your lashes rested against your cheeks, the warmth of your skin beneath his touch. You were alive. You were loved. You weren’t-

The dream wouldn’t leave him.

In the morning, when you were fully awake, you made no mention of how tight Simon’s arms were around you. You made no mention of how he asked you again and again if you were warm, full- his arm around your waist in a gentle hold that felt like it was more for his comfort.

You said none of it; but you made sure you kisses him enough until that fear in his eyes slowly dissipated. You and him had come to this inn for a bit of break, and you didn’t want to return to the manor with any sadness clinging to you or Simon.

When you returned to the manor, Simon still made no mention of it.

He didn’t speak of it, though John noticed how Simon hovered closer to you than usual. He didn’t bring it up during lunch, though Johnny commented on how quiet Simon had become, his usual sharp wit dulled. Kyle, perceptive as ever, caught Simon lingering in the halls outside your favorite sitting room, his eyes clouded with something between guilt and sorrow even though looked no different than usual.

But it wasn’t until late that evening, as you sat before the fire with a book in hand, that Simon finally broke.

You didn’t hear him approach at first. He was silent as a shadow, and when you glanced up, startled, he was already kneeling before you.

“Simon?” you asked, concern flickering across your face. “What’s wrong?”

His hands found yours, cradling them as though you might disappear if he let go. For a long moment, he simply looked at you, his gaze tracing every feature of your face. And then, in a voice low and strained, he said, “I saw a world where I lost you.”

Your brow furrowed, but he didn’t let you speak.

“You were there, in the manor, but… no one saw you. Not properly. Not me. Not John. Not Kyle or Johnny. You were alone. Lonely.” His grip tightened on your hands, though he was still gentle. “You withered away, and we didn’t even notice until it was too late.”

The raw emotion in his voice took your breath away. “Simon, it was just a dream,” your voice was soft, though your heart ached at the pain etched into his face.

“No,” he said fiercely, jaw tight. “It wasn’t. It… it felt too real. Like a warning. Like something I could let happen if I wasn’t careful.”

You leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands. “But it didn’t happen, Simon. It won’t. You’re not that man. None of you are.”

His eyes closed, leaning into your touch like a man starved for warmth. “I won’t let it happen,” he murmured. “I’ll never let you feel like that. I’ll make sure you know how much we love you. Every single day.”

You smiled, brushing a kiss against his forehead. “I already do, Simon. You don’t have to worry. Stay with me for now, alright?”

And he did; he would not deny you of anything.

[helen-with-an-a]

Waking Up

Thank you so much for this request anon - I would love to write some more soft/non-smut fluff for my favourite girls so please let me know of some ideas.

This is the answer to the 1st part of this ask (waking up on a day off); the answer to the question Do Ale and Amor ever try to hide their relationship is here.

Beautiful Girl masterlist

Alexia Putellas x reader

Description: R and Ale wake up on an off day

Word Count: 2.6k

Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window, dust mites dancing in the cool morning air as you woke. The golden beams of light stretched across the floor, warming the wooden planks and casting long, playful shadows. The soft, translucent curtain fluttered gently with each whisper of the breeze. The sky beyond the window was a soft, pastel blue, with a few wispy clouds lazily drifting by. A vase of wildflowers on the windowsill caught the light, their petals glowing in hues of lavender and yellow. The intricate pattern of the quilt spread over the bed mirrored the soft, dappled sunlight, and the faint scent of jasmine from the neighbours below carried into the room. The occasional chirp of a bird punctuated the serene stillness.

You peeked over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of tousled brown roots that fanned out across the pillow, a few stray strands tickling your neck. The sight made you smile softly as you shifted, savouring the steady rise and fall of her chest pressed against your back. Her breath, slow and even, stirred the hair at the nape of your neck, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

Just as you sank deeper into her embrace, Alexia's arm tightened subconsciously, her fingers flexing against your waist. The slight pressure sent a surge of warmth through you, drawing you impossibly closer until there was no space left between your bodies. Her leg curled slightly over yours, letting her warmth seep into you It was as if the world outside had ceased to exist; there was no rush, no sound, only the sanctuary of her arms and the steady, soothing rhythm of her breathing against your back.

Falling back asleep was easy. The soft light filtering through the curtains painted the room in a warm glow. For once, there were no pressing alarms, no meetings or hurried schedules looming over your morning. The world outside could wait, muffled and distant as if time itself had chosen to pause for you. It was just you and Alexia.

The gentle rise and fall of her breathing created a lullaby, one that called you to let go and sink deeper into rest. You could feel the faint press of her lips at the back of your neck and it made your chest swell with a warmth that felt almost sacred. You had never experienced this level of love before. This type of all-consuming peace that radiated across every part of you.

The quiet, unhurried intimacy was a luxury you rarely afforded yourself. In this moment, surrounded by the soft rustling of the sheets and the comfort of Alexia, everything else fell away. There was no rush, no lingering list of tasks waiting to pull you from this haven. Just the shared, gentle rhythm of two bodies at ease, cradled in the silence of a morning meant just for you both.

You woke again to the distant, jarring sound of cars blaring outside, their insistent honks and rumbling engines cutting through the morning stillness. A groan escaped your lips, a low, frustrated sound as sleep slipped from your grasp like sand through your fingertips. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to cling to the remnants of the dream you could no longer remember, willing sleep to pull you back under its gentle spell. But with each passing second, the chaotic city sounds pressed harder against the thin veil of calm, and you knew it was useless.

You sighed, a deep, resigned exhale that released the tension knotting in your chest. But as the annoyance began to settle, you became more aware of the warmth wrapped around you. Alexia’s arm still rested across your waist, her hand relaxed and fingers slightly curled. She had fallen asleep holding you, and it brought a smile to your lips to see that she had refused to let go even in dreams.

There were definitely worse ways to wake up on an off day than protected in Alexia’s embrace, her body moulding perfectly to yours as if it were made to fit. The outside world might roar, but here, wrapped in her arms, it felt irrelevant.

You shifted slightly, rolling your shoulders and arching your back to stretch out the kinks that had formed overnight. The sheets rustled softly, the faint sound blending with the morning hum outside. A sleepy groan came from behind you, followed by a murmur as Alexia stirred. “Deja de moverte,” she muttered, her voice thick with sleep, the words half-lost in the drowsy slur of her accent. The soft command made you smile, knowing she was somewhere in that delicious space between dreams and waking.

“Sorry, beautiful girl,” you whispered. You squeezed her hand, where it rested over your waist, your fingers entwining gently in an unspoken apology. You shuffled back a little, pressing yourself into her, feeling the solid line of her body with a contented sigh.

“Dormir,” she announced, the word barely more than a puff of breath as she inhaled sharply, the intake tickling the fine hairs at the nape of your neck. The moment hung in the air, suspended between wakefulness and sleep, as she nestled her face deeper against you, her nose brushing your skin. You could feel the heat of her lips pressed lightly to your shoulder; a fleeting touch that made your chest tighten with affection.

“Sí, baby. Go back to sleep,” you murmured, letting your voice dip low and soft, an invitation for peace to settle over her again. The steady, familiar rhythm of her breathing slowed, and you felt her muscles relax, her body sinking against yours in complete trust. You let yourself fall back into the quiet, content to lie there in the warmth of Alexia’s embrace.

You may have dozed off again, though it was hard to tell. The line between sleep and wakefulness blurred as you lay there. Either way, it didn’t matter. You felt thoroughly relaxed, you had the love of your life wrapped around you and nothing to do today. The room held a stillness that felt sacred, a break from the hurricane that had swept you both up for far too long.

This was what you needed – what both of you needed. Alexia had been going non-stop for months, caught up in a relentless cycle of training, travel, and the never-ending demands. You could see it in the deepening shadows under her eyes, in the way her laughter had become a little less frequent, a little more strained. And you weren’t doing much better. The telltale signs were there in the way your muscles ached as soon as you woke up, the dull throb in your temples after not enough sleep. You knew it all too well – the physical toll your body endured and the mental strain that bit away at the edges.

A day spent in bed, wrapped up together, was just what the doctor ordered. No alarms, no calls, no one pulling you away from this small slice of serenity. Just the two of you, tucked away from the world, with nothing to do but exist. You shifted slightly, the feel of Alexia’s arm tightening instinctively around your waist as she murmured something incoherent, still fast asleep. It brought a soft smile to your lips, knowing she was letting herself rest for once.

As you lay there, feeling her warmth seeping into you, the tension in your body. Muscles unwinding in a way they hadn’t in weeks. Wrapped up in a mix of coconut and vanilla, the world didn't seem too bad. With Alexia next to you, you alway felt unstoppable. Whether it was on the pitch, in the gym, meeting fans or simply going to the shops, with her by your side, you always felt able to do anything. Her presence alone was enough to make you feel like you were capable.

You felt Alexia stir behind you, her body shifting as she began to wake. A sharp intake of breath brushed warmly against your shoulder, followed by the familiar, comforting pressure of her arm tightening around your waist once again. It was the unmistakable sign that she was returning from the hazy world of dreams, rejoining you in the quiet late morning.

“Mmmm,” she hummed, the sound deep and contented, resonating against your skin. “Bon dia, amor meu” she whispered, her voice still rough with sleep. The words were accompanied by the soft press of her lips, fluttering kisses along your bare shoulder, each one a gentle wake-up call.

“Bon dia, my beautiful girl,” you murmured back, your own smile taking shape as you turned your head just enough to catch a glimpse of her face. Her eyes were still heavy, dark lashes casting delicate shadows on her cheeks as she blinked slowly. The way she looked at you, with a quiet warmth and an unguarded fondness, made your heart swell.

You felt her hand shift, sliding up your stomach with a familiar, lazy grace. Her fingers found their way to rest on your breast, palm pressing gently against your skin. Her thumb stroked absentmindedly over your skin, tracing slow, soothing patterns that made you feel cherished and completely seen in a way that no one else ever had. You let out a small, contented sigh as you settled back into her embrace, arching into her hand ever so slightly.

“Mmmm-w-what time is it?” Alexia asked, her voice still laced with sleep. She nuzzled closer, her breath a warm tickle against your skin as she spoke.

“I have no idea,” you replied happily, chuckling at the idea that for once, you truly had no concept of time. It could have been 6 am or 3pm and you honestly wouldn't have known. And the truth was, you couldn’t have cared less about the time, even if you tried. The rest of the world felt a million miles away, irrelevant compared to this perfect, unhurried moment. You loved this side of Alexia – the side that only you were privileged enough to see. The sleepy, vulnerable version of her who let the day start at its own pace, who tangled her legs with yours and wrapped herself around you.

You loved every side of her, of course. The fierce, determined athlete who moved with a grace that made it seem effortless, the focused leader who inspired others without trying, the thoughtful partner who remembered the smallest details that made you smile. But this was different. This was Ale, the woman who woke up with bedhead that turned into an adorable mess of brown and blonde and whose voice was still scratchy from sleep. The woman who sometimes blinked at you with a soft, sleepy smile before she even opened her eyes fully. This was your beautiful girl.

It was in these moments that you fell in love with her a little bit more every day. The little things – the way she murmured your name when she stirred, the way she let her fingers drift absentmindedly along your skin, the way her incoherent words made you giggle at how endearing she was. You turned your head slightly, enough to catch her gaze, hazel eyes tender affection that made your heart stutter. She smiled, languid and genuine.

“It’s an off day,” Alexia mumbled, her voice still husky as she shifted slightly and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to your jaw. The softness of her lips, the way they brushed your skin made you close your eyes for a moment, savouring the feeling.

“That it is,” you murmured, a small smile curving your lips as you reached up, your fingers finding their way into her hair. You began to scratch lightly at her scalp, your nails grazing her skin with the practised ease that always made her melt. You felt her exhale, a soft, contented sigh against your neck, her body pressing impossibly closer as if she could fuse herself to you if she tried hard enough.

“We have no plans,” she continued, her words slow and deliberate. There was a note of relief in her voice, subtle but undeniable. The outside world could wait – the endless cycle of training, travel, and obligations held no claim over you today. Today was yours.

“That we don’t,” you echoed, your voice soft and steady. The realisation sank deeper into you, a warm glow spreading through your chest.

“Bien,” she whispered, the word slipping out in a satisfied breath.

You turned your head just enough to catch her eyes, their dark depths still soft with sleep. The morning light cast a gentle glow across her features, catching on the curve of her cheek and the loose strands of hair that framed her face. "Sí, muy bien." You smiled.

The minutes ticked by uncounted. This was more than enough; it was everything.

[appletvgifs]

Earlier this evening, at an event where I was excited to share my status as a severed individual with a group of friends and allies, I made the poor decision to consume alcohol while on a non-Lumon medication for an arm rash. This had an inebriating effect, which caused me to say some deeply regrettable things. In the moment, I thought I was being funny. But in the hours since this outburst, I've been reminded just how seriously my family's company affects the lives of real people around the world. When Lumon falters, it's our cherished workers and their families who suffer first. So for the fear and insecurity this has caused, I must sincerely atone. Distrust of Lumon has been sadly endemic since its founding. My words provided more fuel for a pernicious hate and derision. When I said my innie was being tortured, this was a joke and a lie. Britt Lower as Helena Eagan on Goodbye, Mrs. Selvig (S02E02) Severance (2022-present)

[mononijikayu]

widower! nanami who found himself lingering by the window in the evenings, catching glimpses of you tending to your garden or sitting on your porch with a cup of tea.

nanami kento couldn't quite explain the comfort he found out he could feel just because of your presence.

ever since he moved here and met you, with your bright smile and your kindness to a grieving soul like him, it brought a quiet solace amidst the storm in his broken heart.

widower! nanami who, despite his reluctance to let anyone in, found himself knocking on your door one rainy evening to return the favor you have him when he first moved in.

he stood there, holding that it bottle of red wine and his little whisper of a quiet "thank you for the bread."

you smiled at him tenderly, not caring for his shyness or his awkwardness. "its my pleasure, neighbor. come by anytime. i'll make something good for you.we'll have a good conversation over this wine."

he blinks at you, slowly turning flustered as you nodded. "ah….yes. that would….that would be lovely."

widower! nanami who, over time, found that conversations day by day with you started to feel like a lifeline.

you always spoke with warmth and patience, never prying but always listening. you shared stories of your life, your interests, and little joys that painted the world in colors he thought he'd forgotten.

somehow, it was the good distraction he needed from the quiet. its a way to keep himself present to the world around him, when he would have let himself wallow in the loneliness. and it was because you made him feel safe. he was thankful to you for making him feel normal.

widower! nanami who caught himself smiling—truly smiling—when you laughed at one of his dry jokes. even though you knew that it wasn't that funny.

it was a small moment, one that fould have been a footnote to a day lived in this life but it reminded him of the man he used to be before grief consumed him. he was reminded that he was someone.

widower! nanami who, one night, confessed to you over tea on your porch that he hadn’t felt this kind of peace in years. that he hadn't found himself living in so long.

you didn’t respond with pity or empty reassurances. instead, you looked at him and smiled with empathy. you simply placed a gentle hand over his.

“take your time. healing isn’t a race, kento–kun.”

he nodded at you then and then he smiled, squeezing your hand with his other free hand in thanks. he was grateful that it was you who understood him best.

widower! nanami who realized that the heavy ache he had long felt in his chest was slowly being replaced by something different—something warm and hopeful. something that reminded him of life beyond loss.

widower! nanami who started looking forward to the mornings again, who started thinking about what to wear on his daily walks, knowing he might see you across the garden fence or hear your knock on his door.

little by little, he began to live, not just exist.and that was something he felt like was a gift that could only have come from someone as good as you.

widower! nanami who, for the first time in years, started waking up early not out of duty, but out of anticipation. he’d make coffee and glance out his kitchen window, hoping to catch the sight of you stepping outside to greet the day.

when you did, he’d offer a small wave, and sometimes, you’d wave back with a smile so genuine it warmed something deep within him.

"good morning, kento—kun!" you greeted cheerfully, waving from your garden, kneeling over your sunflowers.

he smiled at you, waving back shyly. he stops from his walk to make sure he sees you and you see him. "good morning to you too."

"come here, ill give you some sunflowers! oh, and come join me for breakfast. i have new bread for you to test!"

widower! nanami who found excuses to linger in his front yard when you were outside enjoying the sun and the breeze of the summer winds.

one time, he found himself pretending to fix his mailbox or tidy up the bushes—just for the chance to exchange a few words with you. sometimes he'd say he found a new cat fiend taking his produce from the garden.

he found as many excuses as he could, just to be with you. just to have a moment to see you smile. just to have those moments of connection with you, ones that no matter how brief, became a balm for his weary soul.

widower! nanami who one day noticed you struggling to carry groceries from your car and instinctively walked over to help.

he hadn’t felt the urge to extend himself in so long, but with you, it felt natural. you had joked about him being your knight in shining armor, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he laughed—really laughed.

and soon enough you followed, laughing and bellowing with joy beaming in your eyes. nanami kento was sure it was the loveliest symphony he'd ever heard.

widower! nanami who began to share little by little all those pieces of himself with you, bits of his past life that he hadn’t spoken about in years.

you were such a darling to him, listening without judgment, your eyes filled with endless empathy and care for him. and when he mentioned his late wife, you didn’t recoil or change the subject. instead you held his hand in the hardest moment in a long long while.

instead, you smiled at him kindly and said to him ever so softly, “she must have been an incredible person to have been loved by someone like you.”

nanami kento was touched. he could have sworn he had truly found the wonder of the world when he looked st you in that moment. you were all that was good and he knew it.

widower! nanami who found himself opening up more and more, slowly but surely. you didn’t push him to move faster than he was ready, but your quiet understanding made him feel safe—something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

in the world which was rough and cruel, there was only kindness when he looked in your eyes. a kindness that was made specifically for him by the warmth of your existence.

widower! nanami who, one evening, invited you over for dinner. it was the first time he’d cooked for someone since she’d passed, and though his hands shook as he prepared the meal, your smile of gratitude when you arrived made it worth it.

you both shared stories over simple dishes, the evening stretching into the night as conversation flowed effortlessly between you. you laughed, you sang, you cheered. it was something that nanami kento would not forget.

"thank you for inviting me to dinner, really." you told him, smiling from ear to ear. "everything was fantastic, kento."

"you shouldn't thank me. if anything i should thank you." he says, a small smile on his lips. "im happy to thank you with something like this, even if its so simple."

you giggled. "simple is best, no?"

he nodded, his eyes fondly looking at you. "indeed it is."

widower! nanami who, after you’d left that night, stood in the doorway of his home and realized he did not feel like any place he was in was as empty as it once was. somehow, the world seemed illuminated in light.

there were still shadows of his grief, yes, but for the first time in years, he felt a flicker of something he thought he’d lost forever—and that was hope.

there was hope that there was something after the pain. that there was warmth inside of him growing for the hope of continuing to live a life with a smile on his face.

widower! nanami who began to wonder if, maybe, it was okay to let the walls he’d built around his heart start to crumble, one small piece at a time.

would you catch him if he let himself fall? or would the weight of his past be too much for you to bear? would you be the one who could stand by him despite the world weighs heavy on his shoulder?

widower! nanami who decided one quiet evening, as he watched the light in your window, as you danced to your favorite song, that he couldn’t keep waiting for the perfect moment to act. life had already shown him how fragile time could be.

he didn’t want to waste another second letting fear hold him back, no. he was still alive. and there were many colors of life he still had to know. and one of it was the color of your joy when music makes you happy.

widower! nanami who knocked on your door the next morning, uncharacteristically nervous, clutching a small bouquet of sunflowers he’d picked up on a whim.

when you opened the door, seeing him with that look of surprise. but it was easy to see the bright light in your eyes. you were truly delighted to see him before your eyes.

he cleared his throat and said softly, “i wasn’t sure what flowers you’d like, but these felt…bright. like you.”

widower! nanami who took you out on a simple walk later that day, both of your hands brushing together gently as you strolled through the neighborhood.

the silence between you wasn’t awkward, that was to be sure. but filled with an unspoken understanding, a connection neither of you needed to explain. it was contentment, in the look of love being as tender as the touch of love even in tender brushes.

widower! nanami who stopped abruptly by a quiet park bench, turning to face you with a look that was equal parts vulnerability and determination.

you smiled at him as you waited for him to say something. the way you looked at him, it was as though he was the only one in the world. it was as though he was a galaxy you marvel at each and every night. it was like he was the morning sunrise tenderly brushing against you in the fleeting echoes of dawn.

“i don’t know how to do this correctly, not anymore." he admitted. “and i don’t know if i'll ever stop grieving her. but… i know that when i’m with you, the world doesn’t feel as heavy. and i think i want to try, if you’ll have me.”

widower! nanami who felt the weight of the world lift just a little when you smiled up at him, your hand slipping into his with quiet assurance. you nodded at him.

“I’m not asking you to forget." you said gently. “but maybe we can figure this out together…..if you would have me."

he smiled at you, bright eyed. "i'd love to have you. happily."

you giggled. "then it's settled. you are stuck with me."

"i could say the same thing about you too." kento laughs.

widower! nanami who, for the first time in years, allowed himself to hope—not just for healing, but for happiness, for love, and for the possibility of a future where he didn’t have to face the world alone.

because he knew that life would be fine now, life could be worth living. and its thanks to you, you whom became his relief in this world, as long as time may allow.

[thecutestmonkeygirl]

No matter how many lovers she had none could ever hold a candle to the connection she shared with Coyote. He knew just what to do or say to make her feel like the only person in the world that mattered. Even when he was rough she felt the love behind ever bite and bruise. She cried out for him each time their hips were flush, toes curled and arms nearly always reaching to pull them closer. Coyote had perfected the ability to make her feel his love through his actions, and what was better was he had no fear to verbally express it as well and she was eager to speak her own love back.

Once he had her pinned to the bed on her stomach, their fingers tangled together, she almost felt as if this was their mating ritual all over again and she melted into it, wishing only for the chance to renew it soon. Once they finished together, her tail still around his midsection, she closed her eyes and allowed his love and warmth to fill her and ease her into a light nap with a soft ‘I love you, Coyote.’ Spilling from her lips

Blood and Moonlight

Sasuga woke in what was at first an unfamiliar area but as she blinked fully awake she realized it was their closet that Coyote had decorated for them. She smiled and took a careful kiss from her mate who was still sound asleep next to her. It really had been an amazing night with the family and then with her husband. As she slipped from his arms, she took a moment to look at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers dancing over the fresh marks on her neck and hips. She couldn't have asked for anything more from the night and it was with some reluctance that she dressed. She picked out a pair of warm leggings and a short little skirt to pull over them with some knee high boots and a thick sweater. She slipped from the closet and moved to the bathroom to comb her hair and brush her teeth and get ready for the big day ahead. She gave a stretch and headed downstairs only to find a familiar face waiting for her. "Raphael..." she smiled and moved to greet him with a hug. "I see you are still alive." she smirked. "Want some tea? Coffee?"

@banditcoyote

[norrisluv]

THE SURPRISE - LANDO NORRIS

warnings: fluff

lando norris x zak brown's daughter!reader

english is not my first language, so I apologise if any words are spelt wrong!

this is a request!!

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The crisp morning sun poured through the window as you scrolled through the adoption website on your phone. Lando had been dropping hints about wanting a dog for months now, though it always came with the caveat of, "But I just don’t have the time, you know?" You could see the longing in his eyes every time he saw a dog during his travels or in fan posts. He wanted one, even if he didn’t let himself believe it was possible. So, you decided to make it happen—for him and for you.

After weeks of planning, you found the perfect little yellow Labrador puppy from a reputable rescue. She was playful but calm, a bright-eyed bundle of joy. You’d spent days researching everything about puppies, from training to travel logistics, knowing how hectic both your lives were. And now, the big day had arrived.

Lando was due back from a simulator session at McLaren HQ later in the afternoon, so you had time to prepare. You’d set up a cozy little dog bed in the corner of the living room, a basket of toys, and bowls already filled with water and kibble. The puppy, who you’d named Sunny, was napping on your lap, her tiny chest rising and falling with each breath.

When Lando walked through the door, his hair slightly tousled and his McLaren hoodie slightly oversized, you could tell he was tired but content. "Hey, love," he called, kicking off his sneakers.

"Hey," you replied, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you stayed seated on the couch.

His eyes narrowed. "What’s that look for? You’re up to something."

"Me? Never," you teased, shifting slightly so Sunny’s little head peeked out from under your arm.

Lando froze. "No. Way."

You grinned as Sunny stirred, her big, soulful eyes opening and landing on Lando. The moment he saw her, his tiredness evaporated. "Oh my God! Is she… Is she ours?"

"Surprise! Meet Sunny," you said, gently placing her on the floor. She wobbled on her tiny legs before padding over to Lando, tail wagging furiously.

He dropped to his knees, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Hi, Sunny! Oh, you’re so cute! Look at you!" His voice was an octave higher as he scooped her up, cradling her like the most precious thing in the world. Sunny responded by licking his face enthusiastically, making him laugh.

"You’ve been talking about wanting a dog forever," you explained, sitting beside him. "I know we’re busy, but I’ve figured it all out. I’ll handle most of the care, and she can travel with us whenever possible. I’ve even spoken to my dad about it—turns out, McLaren’s totally cool with her being around."

Lando looked at you, his eyes soft and full of emotion. "You did all this for me?"

"Of course. I know how much you’ve wanted this, and I’ll make sure you don’t have to worry about anything. You just get to enjoy her."

He leaned in and kissed you, lingering for a moment before pulling back to look at Sunny. "She’s perfect. You’re perfect. But are you sure? She’s a big responsibility."

"I’ve got it covered, trust me," you reassured him. "And let’s be honest, Sunny’s about to be the most well-traveled dog in the world."

Lando laughed, hugging Sunny close. "Alright, then. Sunny’s officially part of the family."

The rest of the evening was spent watching Sunny explore her new home, with Lando snapping pictures and videos to share with his family and a select few friends. You could tell he was already smitten, constantly doting on her and giving her belly rubs.

Later that night, as Sunny snoozed in her bed and you curled up beside Lando on the couch, he kissed the top of your head. "Thank you for this," he whispered. "For her, for everything."

"Anything for you," you replied, your heart full as you watched him glance back at Sunny with a look of pure happiness.

✧⸻✧

The atmosphere at Silverstone was electric. Fans cheered from the grandstands, the smell of rubber and fuel filled the air, and engines roared to life in the garages. It was a big race day for Lando, and this time, Sunny was part of the action.

You arrived at the paddock early, Sunny trotting beside you with her McLaren bandana tied neatly around her neck. She was a natural at stealing hearts, stopping every few steps as team members, fans, and even rival drivers paused to coo over her.

As you made your way to the McLaren garage, your dad, Zak Brown, spotted you from across the paddock. "There’s my girl," he called out, his sharp eyes softening when they landed on Sunny. "And who’s this little superstar?"

"Meet Sunny," you said, kneeling to let the puppy greet Zak. "She’s officially part of the family now."

Zak crouched, letting Sunny sniff his hand before giving her a gentle pat. "Well, she’s already got the whole paddock charmed, hasn’t she? Lando, this was a good call."

Lando grinned, hands in his hoodie pockets. "I can’t take the credit. This was all her," he said, nodding toward you.

Inside the garage, Sunny had her own little setup—a custom McLaren dog bed and a small water station. Zak checked in occasionally, offering a lighthearted comment here and there. "You know," he said at one point, "if she keeps this up, I might have to put her in some team promos."

As the race approached, Zak joined you and Sunny on the garage. The crowd was buzzing with excitement, and a few fans held up signs dedicated to the puppy like "SUNNY FOR TEAM PRINCIPAL!"

Zak chuckled, glancing at the signs. "Looks like she’s already more popular than me."

"She’s got that Brown charm," you teased, earning a playful eye roll from your dad.

When the race began, Sunny sat beside you and some people you know in the McLaren hospitality suite, her ears perking up every time Lando’s name was mentioned. People couldn’t help but narrate Sunny’s reactions. "See that tail wag? That’s pure confidence in her dad."

It was a nail-biting race, but Lando drove brilliantly, crossing the finish line in second place. The garage erupted in cheers, and Sunny barked excitedly as if she understood the significance of the moment.

After the podium celebrations, Lando returned to the garage, still in his race suit and champagne-drenched shoes. "Sunny! Did you see that?" he exclaimed, dropping to the floor to hug her. Sunny greeted him with enthusiastic licks, her tail wagging furiously.

Zak appeared shortly after, clapping Lando on the back. "Solid drive out there. I think Sunny’s got a future as the team mascot."

Lando grinned, scratching Sunny behind the ears. "She’s already the heart of the team."

As the evening wore on, the three of you sat outside the motorhome, watching the sunset over the paddock. Sunny curled up between you and Lando, her soft snores filling the quiet. Lando glanced over you and smiled. "This," he said, "is what it’s all about. Family, racing, and a little bit of chaos."

You leaned your head against Lando’s shoulder, your heart full. "And just think—we get to do it all over again next race."

Lando chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. "As long as you and Sunny are there, I know it’ll be amazing."

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

A/N: please let me know if you like it! requests are open!

[cloudwisp]

Caleb and the constant yearning for you to need him and to hear the words coming from your lips. He’s already given you everything he could think of, protection and safety that makes you feel so insulated from the world. But when you need him for something else entirely that goes beyond the boundaries of your close relationship, it feeds into his appetite that he won’t be able to control if you continue to keep this up.

What started as a playful wrestle for the remote turned into you pinning him on the ground, your faces impossibly close so that you could feel the warmth of his breath blending with yours. You have the upper hand yet you’re right where he wants you as tension crackles between you and him. The shared glances clouded with lust make the intentions known when they slowly flit and linger for a sweet taste. He doesn’t have time to process before softness embraces his lips and he surrenders all senses to you.

Caleb has dreamt about this for a long time. How it would feel to squeeze the flesh of your hips and pull you closer to him, how he would respond to swallowing your moans against tongueful kisses as you lose yourself humping his warm and growing arousal in his pants. He feels so dangerously good under you, making you crave more when his hand travels beneath your shirt and teases you by tracing the underside of your breast with his thumb.

You both eventually come up for a desperate inhale to return air back into your lungs. Your cheeks flushed and parted lips swollen as you gaze down only to receive an amorous stare back at you. He chuckles softly, a smile making way and his palm cups the side of your face. “You know, I didn’t think you had that in you. Not that I didn’t enjoy the kiss... it was nice.”

His hand lowers and brushes the pad of his finger along your bottom lip. And new thoughts emerge like how your mouth would feel wrapped around his thumb as he gently presses down on your tongue. “You’re beautiful, have I ever told you that?”

“Caleb… I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what came over me.” You glance away amidst the heat of your embarrassment, and you still feel lightheaded from the remnants of the intense exchange. Some things can’t be easily undone once you start them, and yet you feel an overwhelming urgency to kiss him again. His shirt crumples around your clenched fist while your mind tries to make sense of your suppressed feelings for your childhood friend.

“Hey, hey. You didn’t do anything wrong, princess.” He carefully shifts you onto your back, tilting your chin to make you face him again. “Just tell me what you need and I’ll take care of it, hm?” He tests your reaction by hooking one of your legs over his hip and his knee slowly parts your thigh causing your breath to hitch when he makes contact with your clothed clit. He leans down to plant light kisses on your forehead, his fingers curling around the waistband of your skirt tugging at it playfully. “Can you do that for me?”

It’s adorable to him, truly. How precious and vulnerable you look with those eyes full of longing because you also share the same burning desire for something more with him. When you grant him consent with a small nod of your head, he promises that he won’t hold back pouring every ounce of his love and devotion into you that he has withheld for too many years.

[cutiecusp]

Memories, part three.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader.

TW, Memory loss, mentions of PTSD, light fluff.

You watch him as you both enter your shared home together, the tightness in his chest obvious as he scans the room, his dark eyes flitting over all the things that made your home unique to you both before settling on a photograph.

"You look beautiful, cant believe you got me in a suit." He remarks gruffly, staring at the couple in the photograph.

You take the frame off the table, and hand it to him, your smile genuine.

"What's more unbelievable is Soap ate the cake before we even cut it."

You watch Simon throw Soap an annoyed look, the Scot held his hands up in mock surrender, before joining the others in the kitchen.

Simon heads to the mantlepiece, his fingers tracing over the frames, as if he was trying to bring back every memory by touch.

"There's no doubt we look good together." He smiles, picking up a picture of you both on holiday, the sea in the background, your face beaming as you hold a giant ice cream.

"We had to share that ice cream." You quip, standing next to Simon.

Your cheeks redden as you remember all the sugary kisses afterwards, melting into his arms as he held you close.

Simons gaze flickers over your face, taking in the blush, but not remarking on it further.

"And who's this?" He asks, pointing to a picture of himself, with a dog.

"That's Scout, and in the back is Riley." you point out, your eyes soften.

"My brother owned Scout, and Riley was ours, you brought her home-"

"I brought her home from a mission." He finishes, his gaze steady.

"I remember her."

You smile sadly. He could remember your dog, but not you?

He picks up on the mood change, and offers a hand, and without hesitation, you take it.

"Sorry love. I wish i could remember more."

You shrug it off, as if it wasn't a big deal, and while your heart was breaking, you had to remember he was home. So you put on a watery smile, and change the subject.

"Tea?" You ask.

He nods, and finding his way to the kitchen, it allows you a minute to breathe.

Your eyes take in the first photo he saw, you in a white dress, your smile brightening up the shot, your eyes shining and focused on Simon, who stood tall and broad in a black suit, mask off, his eyes burning back into yours with desire and love.

Tears threatened to fall, and at the sound of laughter from the kitchen, you let them. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you cry, your vision blurring out the real world for a minute.

After a few minutes, you feel strong arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you into an embrace. You look up, to see a familiar jaw line, and honeyed eyes.

"He will be okay, petal." Kyle remarks, his voice soft.

You shake your head, how can he be, when he cannot remember the life he's created with you.

Kyle rubs soothing circles on your back. Out of the taskforce, Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick felt the most like family, calm, collected, always ready for an adventure, and the one you confided in the most, he was like a brother to you, so it wasn't unusual that he was there to comfort you.

After a few minutes, you caught your breath and took the tissue Kyle offered.

"Thank you, Kyle, i should be grateful he's home, and i am, its just-"

Kyle nodded, his face solemn.

"We are going to give you guys some space, but if you need us, call us, I'm on paperwork duty tonight, so ill be awake."

You sigh, before nodding. You look up to see Price and Soap at the door, sad smiles on their faces. Over the last five years, these men had become your family, and it hit you hard that they must be grieving a friend too. You hug them both, pressing a kiss to each cheek before they head out, a clear understanding that this is the first day of a new life for both you and Simon.

The rest of the evening was consumed by dinner, Simon helping you prepare a basic dish, and asking small questions along the way. The mood felt awkward, hollow, with shallow conversations, Simon caught up with the year without him.

You hide in the bathroom, emotionally strung out. Essentially Simon was a stranger to you now, and while your heart yearned to break down the door and wrap your arms around him, he didn't feel like yours anymore.

You hear him shuffling around in your bedroom, so you go to investigate.

"Jus' looking for some shorts for bed," He calls out, seeing your shape in the doorway.

"I'll take the guest bed tonight, Simon." You say softly, looking everywhere but him.

"You don't have to do that, i will." Came the gruff reply. You look up to find Simon staring at you.

"I know, deep down you are my wife, and you are someone special to me, and i also know that this is a sore situation for you, so I'll take the other room."

You nod, returning to the bathroom, unable to argue with him. All you want is your husband back in your arms.

As you wash your face, and apply your skincare, you notice Simon watching you over your shoulder.

"You still use the vanilla cream?" He asks nonchalantly

You pause. How would he..

"Your dressing gown smells of vanilla in the bedroom. Made me think of cake. I thought the smell could trigger something" He admits sheepishly.

You nod, it had been a favourite of yours, and he routinely brought you more, even on deployment.

"Thank you." Simon says quietly.

You turn around, a questioning look on your face.

"For not giving up on me. For always believing I'd come home."

Your eyes soften, and you nod, unable to speak.

He throws you a smile and heads into the guest room, leaving you to finish rubbing lotion into your skin.

** A FEW HOURS LATER.**

You wake up with a start, a loud noise coming from the guest bedroom, throwing the covers back, you race into the next room.

Simon is drenched in sweat, his eyes unfocused as he tosses and turns in his sleep.

You know better than to wake him physically, so you call to him from the edge on the bed.

"Simon, its me, love. You are home, in the guest bed. You are home. " You chant your mantra a few times, before he groggily opens his eyes, before they settle on you.

"I'm home?" he asks, his voice deep with sleep and fear.

You nod, slowly approaching him.

"Yes, Simon. You are home, its me, you are safe."

You sit on the edge of the bed, watching Simons chest heave, his foggy gaze drinking you in like a cold glass of water on a hot day.

"Love?" He calls, his voice strained, his arms open.

You settle between his arms, your hand stroking his cheek, soothing him.

"I'm here." You assure him.

His breathing evens out, and you hold him closer, your heartbeat settling him.

"I remember the ice cream." he murmurs.

You raise an eyebrow.

"The ice cream?"

"From the photo, i remember it took you forever to eat it, it was when i came home from Paris, and we took a holiday. I remember kissing you after, your laugh as you put some on my nose."

You smile, Your thoughts going back to that day.

"I did, and do you remember the cat we saw, getting all the old ladies to feed it croissants?" You chuckle.

Simon pulls away, his eyes locked on yours, your bodies still close. Your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

"I remember the dress you wore for me that night, love." He remarks, watching you blush.

"I remember it not lasting long on your body." He continues.

His eyes flicked down to your lips, and back up to your eyes.

" I remember a lot, now love. But will you stay until i remember it all, and we can build our lives back together?" He asks, his voice full of vulnerability.

"I promise." You whisper, before his lips press gently against yours.

"I promise you forever."

......................................................................................................................

@kaeyasfuturewife @xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @gardenof-venus @misshugs @soraya-daydreams @frudoo @renpodz @yesornowaitidontknow @thevoiceinyourheadx @shadowdark00 @rynbeerose @lunamoonbby @incredible-walker @identity2212 @pukbadger @urbimom @corvid007 @wordsfromshona @shadows-empress @m00xy @canyonmooncreations @oniraki @evie-119 @havoc973 @kylies-lover-blog @ishipdabands @cmbghost @heckinspooks @midwesternwitchery @eggy-yoke @redzluvvesage @masterclassofescapism @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @mims900 @skeletonsucker @vmaxis

[cherokeegal1975]

Makes sense. As a writer and artist myself, I gain inspiration from everything and everywhere. And creating stories and art is a kind of coping mechanism too. I get it even though I've never been in a war and hope I never will. I've got my own everyday battles. Everything from depression to people I really don't want to live with but have to pissing me off practically on a daily basis...and mostly preventing me from engaging in creativity of any kind...which is absolutely my drug of choice. It's maddening.

But, enough about my crap. What I have to put up with isn't as bad as what these two authors had to go through. I live with a guy I hate that I'd be surprised if he didn't have some form of untreated PTSD because he had seen some shit in Vietnam though he never actually killed anyone. But seeing people skinned and hanging upside-down and still breathing and having to guard them until his companions could get help to cut them down. I also heard that he got bombed once when he was sleeping. That shit would mess anyone up and he never recieved treatment for it.

I was understanding for a long time, but after a while, I just got angrier and angrier...I can' only put up with being called names and being mentally and physically abused (that part is rare, but it happens) without learning that I can indeed hate someone when for the longest time, I didn't know I could. Now I want nothing to do with him but I'm finanachally stuck in the same house with him until I can buy my freedom. Which is unlikely because I turn fifty this month and I've never been financially well off enough to leave as I desprately need to.

Asshole finished breaking my mom's sprit as much as it is possible to do to that stubborn bitch. Love her the most in the world, but still can't stand her and I hate living with her. She's fought her own wars too. So it wasn't all him, but he didn't help. He's such a bad husband and it's sad I can recognize that because I've never been married myself. Or romantically involved with anyone beyond a couple of dates. Those flopped...and I think in part because I didn't have enough information about myself. Never asked myself beyond am I gay or not...the answer was no. Then last year after some learning the question came up am I ace or not? Turns out the answer was yes and no...then I did some digging and came up with the term demisexual and that fit me.

And I'm breaking my rule about not bitching online. I have my own share of traumas. Still living them.

i think all quiet on the western front and the lord of the rings are in direct conversation with each other, as in theyre the retelling of the same war with one saying here’s what happened, we all died, and it did not matter at all and another going hush little boy, of course we won, of course your friends came back

[shy-writer-999]

How many dreams to say "I love you?" (ii)

Summary: Zoro can’t stop dreaming about you, his best friend and crewmate. When his dreams start to wander from themes of romance and tenderness, he finds himself splitting at the seams. How long can he keep up this balance of night and day before he starts to go crazy?

Part 2 of 3 (or 4). ~5k words. CW: Mostly smut / PWP! Afab reader w/gendered language (she/her pronouns). Poor, pervy Zoro. Non-consensual voyeurism, masturbation, toys, kissing. NSFW content - minors stay away!

Part 2: A double life is unsustainable.

As much as Zoro told himself that he learned his lesson—don’t eavesdrop on conversations that are clearly not meant for your ears—the dreams about you didn’t stop.

Days went by and he could find no reprieve from the phantom version of you at night. Torture wasn’t the word for it. Agony, more like. He was in agony. Every night.

While the swordsman affirmed to himself that the dreams were a non-issue, and that they’d inevitably stop soon, you were rapidly starting to infect every single facet of his life.

This duality was maddening—at night, he’d answer to a fantasy world with you, where you treated him like some precious thing, called him ‘baby’ or ‘honey,’ and kissed him. But during the day you were his crewmate, friend, and nothing else. He’d smile at you like usual, sit by you at dinner, and tell himself that nothing changed.

This was a half-truth. The only thing that had changed was Zoro. You were behaving typically, maybe a bit quieter than usual, but he told himself that he was overthinking it.

The issue was that you wouldn’t leave him alone at night, and each of your sickeningly heart-melting smiles during the day was making his heart do that twisting thing. He couldn’t stand it.

Zoro didn’t know why his brain wouldn’t abandon this fixation with you—it had almost been a week; how much longer would this keep up? How many more tender moments would he share with you at night before he went insane during the day? If he got to a breaking point, what would fix it?

The dreams were festering inside of him. Confounding this effect was that the quality of sleep he was getting was atrocious. It’s like he wasn’t able to rest properly at night because the dreams were so concerningly lucid—he felt like he almost wasn’t dreaming at all, just living in an alternate reality, a reality turned upside down, where you loved him and smothered him in affection. A reality where he liked that.

Zoro had no one to confide in about his troubles—you were the person who he was the most emotionally close to. If he could have told you, he would have. But he was worried that it would change something. What would blurting out his dreams and baring these hidden thoughts accomplish, other than make you uncomfortable?

If he did that, you may get the wrong idea. He wasn’t trying to come onto you, he wasn’t in love with you, didn’t have feelings for you, etc. Zoro didn’t think he was capable of romantic love, it just wasn’t in the picture for him and never would be. But that wasn’t the issue here, he told himself. In Zoro’s mind, the problem was that he was being tormented by you at night and couldn’t help it. He was at a loss for what to do.

You were one of the highlights of his days, even before the dreams started. Now he could feel himself, more than ever, looking forward to those moments and latching onto them during the day. He harbored the suspicion that his brain would memorize your face more each time. The dream version of you kept getting more lifelike, more brilliant, more real. It was uncanny.

After the first three nights, Zoro started to brace himself. He knew what was coming when he fell asleep. He knew you’d be there waiting for him in some new scenario.

DREAMS 5, 6, & 7: “You’ve been a bit spacey recently.”

The fifth dream Zoro had about you was one where you held his hand (literally, just you holding his hand, nothing else). Your hand was warm and soft—it felt like it was made for him, like you were made for him. You ran your thumb across his skin and squeezed his hand through your intertwined fingers.

It was a short dream. When he woke up, he could still feel your hand on his. If he kept his eyes closed, if he stayed still, he could feel your fingers, your weight, maybe even your breath against his neck…

When he woke up, he was befuddled. Seeing you on deck the following morning, he glanced down at your hands. Would they feel the same as they did in his dream?

The next night, in the sixth dream, you studied his face quizzically.

“What’s wrong babe? You’ve been a bit spacey recently.” Your eyes explored his face imploringly.

He said something in response. He couldn’t remember what it was, and it was of no consequence. After you studied his face more, you remarked, “Zoro, you have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” He flushed even in his sleep and woke up moments later to a quicker heartbeat than was normal. This was seriously starting to concern him. As mundane as these sequences were, they were abnormal and confusing.

Were these dreams some subconscious manifestation of a nascent health problem? Or was he not training hard enough? Perhaps this was some form of self-performed punishment for being so distracted by your presence? Maybe he needed to double down on the stoicism and the ascetism.

The seventh dream was also mundane. You were wearing one of his hoodies and a pair of his sweatpants; you kissed him and told him he smelled good. He had seen you wear his hoodies before, in real life. You always had an excuse (“mine are all in the washing machine, can I wear some of yours?) and he always looked at you more than normal.

There was something about you in his clothes that stirred him inside. He didn’t know what was up with that. Something squeezed inside of him at the sight of your face peeking out of his hoodies, your limbs filling up his shirts and sweats; he couldn’t put his finger on it.

The morning after the hoodie and sweatpants dream, Zoro woke up perplexed. His dreams, in the wake of the conversation he overheard, stayed relatively romantic. They weren’t straying from themes of tenderness and endearment (well, except that first dream, the shower sex one).

The romance is what baffled him the most—he had never looked at anyone with romantic intentions before, so why was his brain throwing it at him? Why you, in particular? It was mystifying, suffocating, and excruciating.

There were floodgates inside of him, pooled up dams of emotion, burgeoning romance, desires and fears, and your conversation with Nami sent a shockwave through those walls. They began to crumble, and new cracks showed every night.

Zoro tried not to worry, but he had an understanding that this odd trend of (what was it at this point?) six nights consumed by you was only sustainable so far as the dreams stayed this way—tender and, above everything, mundane.

He was a regimented man. He stuck to a clear and concise schedule, as far as waking up, feeding himself, working out, etc. But the dreams threw a wrench in his daily routine. The negligent quality of sleep he was getting, even after only six days, was starting to have quite the effect on him.

He was barely keeping it together by the six-day mark, dark circles deepening into sunken rings under his eyes. He concluded that he couldn’t handle anything farther than these dreams of kisses and cuddles. If the dreams changed—if they got explicit, he told himself—then he’d start to really lose it.

Emotional turmoil be damned, he could retain a sense of normalcy as long as his waking hours went on as usual and nothing else changed. He may be exhausted, but he could cope. He hoped the dreams would fade into absurdity, cease, and leave him the hell alone.

This was a self-deluding hope.

DREAM 8: Breaking point

The next night, Zoro dreamed that he was walking around the ship aimlessly. He did a lap around the deck, meandered lazily through the galley, and checked the crow’s nest. It seemed like the whole thing was empty. Where was everyone?

He sauntered to check out the sleeping quarters. All the doors were open, the lights were off, and the cabins were empty, except yours. Your door was ajar and the light was on—he felt an overwhelming sense of curiosity. As Zoro walked towards your door, time seemed to alter. He moved in slow motion, laser-focused on your cabin, approaching slowly with bated breath.

As he got closer, he started to hear something.

It was a mix of sounds. There was a wet sort of clacking sound, first, and when he got closer to your door, he also heard faint gasps and gentle moans. His heart beat faster. He reached the door—it was only a couple inches open. He knew way lay ahead.

The sounds were getting louder. He leaned in, staring through the miniscule gap between the door and doorframe, to see what was happening. His hand was poised on the doorknob, ready to push it open.

When Zoro saw what was happening inside, he froze.

You were lying on your bed naked, thighs spread, propped up on your pillows. Your face was contorted into an expression of bliss, mouth agape just slightly, brows pinched together, eyes closed. His gaze travelled down to fix on your breasts, a perfect pair in his opinion. But your arms looked like they were moving, so his gaze trailed down farther. He saw clearly now that you were touching yourself.

You were moving one finger very slowly in and out of yourself; your sensitive spots were red and inflamed, juices seeping out and covering your thighs and hand. He listened to your labored breathing and heard the messy sounds echo through the room.

When you stuffed another finger in yourself, he heard you murmur something, but he couldn’t quite make out what you said. He leaned closer, his proximity to the door threatened to push it open.

You let the sound out again. He heard it this time.

“Zoro.”

Your moan was quiet and needy. He was mesmerized—you moaned his name again and moved your fingers faster. Your pitch increased, your body tensed up, you were so wet that arousal was pooling beneath you, saturating and staining the sheets.

He thought you were about to orgasm when you stopped suddenly, drawing your fingers out of yourself with a gasp.

Reaching to the side, you picked something up. Zoro’s brain registered it with a considerable lag—that was a vibrator. That was your vibrator. He saw it once on accident, when he offered to grab some of your laundry and put it in with his load.

That must have been months ago. When he walked into your room and looked for your hamper, the vibrator caught his eye, sitting on your bed as plain as day. You had forgotten that it was there. He found himself blushing and pretended like he hadn’t seen it. But now it made an appearance in his dream—how sick and twisted.

You pressed the toy into your entrance, pressing it inside yourself with it for a few moments before you pulled it out again. Every thrust of your wrist was coupled with a keen of his name.

The vibrator was dripping wet. A string of your arousal connected the tip of the vibrator to your core and his eyes followed as you brought the toy to your clit. Pressing a button, the vibrator sprung to life, filling the room with a low whirring and pulsing sound. You whined his name again and pushed the vibrator back and forth on your sensitive nub, toes curling in pleasure. Your other hand crept down and snuck a finger back into yourself.

Zoro was hypnotized by the sight of you getting off with both your vibrator and fingers, evidently touching yourself to the thought of him. Your moans got louder again, along with the obscene sounds emanating from down there. He could feel his erection. He was painfully hard.

You started to writhe and squirm.

“Zoro, fuck,” you mewled, tone pathetic and desperate. “Fuuuucccck me, Zoro, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Your thighs started to shake.

It seemed like you were about to cum. He wanted you to cum, wanted to see you cum from fucking yourself with your fingers and toy to the thought of him—but right when you started moaning the loudest, right when you were one good pulse away from screaming his name, Zoro woke up. Of course.

Upon opening his eyes, he was immeasurably frustrated. Any time that these dreams, sexual or not, seemed like they were coming to a climax, he’d always wake up. It was like his brain was telling him to go fuck himself. And he was about to.

He couldn’t take it anymore, it was like his mind was playing games, like it was edging him or trying to piss him off. He was rock hard, about to cry from frustration, wishing more than anything that he could just have you, but knowing that would and should never happen.

Zoro had been telling himself that the dreams were just an aberration, a mistake, that he could forget about them during the day because they only were a nuisance at night, and nothing really happened in them that would impact his day in any meaningful way. But the narrative of the dreams not impacting his day didn’t hold up when he started to fist his cock while thinking about you.

He was forced to face the facts—the dreams were getting worse to the point where they started to bleed into his waking hours.

The morning after Zoro dreamed about you masturbating, he had to step away. Seeing you walk around the deck, interacting with you and watching you walk away… it was too much.

He went to the bathroom, locked the door, and palmed his growing erection until he couldn’t hold back anymore. Unzipping his pants and sneaking a hand into his underwear, he started to touch himself.

Maybe it had just been too long since he orgasmed (or even touched a woman). Sure, that’s what all of this was. His brain was grasping for straws because he was too repressed, right? You were there in front of him every day, so his brain had to make do—this was just a matter of proximity, nothing more. This is what Zoro coddled himself with, soothing his worries for a few moments. It had just been too long.

While he squeezed and stroked his aching length, he could barely keep in the feral grunts and groans threatening to leave his mouth. He bit his lip. Every time his fist grazed his angry, leaking tip, his cock twitched. It felt so good, but it would feel even better, if only…

At first, he tried to not think about you while doing it. He felt guilty enough as it was, having explicit dreams about his closest friend. But when his hand was wrapped around his shaft and precum trickled down his fingers in clear rivulets, the image of you touching yourself seared in his brain, unrelenting and arousing.

“Zoro.”

His name had sounded otherworldly when it parted your lips, coated in tones of lust and desperation. Just like the dreamscape he entered every night, composed of only thoughts, his thoughts in this moment could stay internalized too, couldn’t they? Kept private? This could be a one-time thing, hell, maybe it would make the dreams and nagging thoughts go away altogether. It had been too long, after all. Against his better judgment, the swordsman indulged. Just this once.

Scattered scenes flashed through Zoro’s mind the instant he decided to let his thoughts wander. All of it thundered at once like a maelstrom.

First, the look of your eyes, glossy, rolling back in your head in ecstasy. Then, the image of him shoving his cock in your wet mouth and watching you choke on it. The feeling of scissoring his fingers inside of you, of pulling your hair, of listening to your whimpers while he wrenched orgasms from you, pushing his fingers into your mouth while you sucked on them and made eye contact with him, watching your body writhe and writhe and writhe… every morsel and droplet of your envisioned pleasure fueled the force that was Zoro’s fist on his cock.

It would be hot and sloppy. Filthy.

You’d tell him to “keep going,” you’d dig your fingernails into his biceps, drool from how good it felt, swallow up his inches like nothing—he revered you, craved you, and worshipped you. He needed all of you. Wanted to smell you, taste you, hear you, and have you. He was getting carried away.

What if you walked into the bathroom right now? The door was locked, obviously, but the mental image of you stumbling across him like this gave him some sort of nasty thrill. If only you approached him, sunk to your knees and opened your mouth, petted him and praised him—

When the swordsman came all over his hands, he felt vile. He felt like a hypocrite.

He always called Sanji a pervert and derided him for his lack of control around women, and now here Zoro was, getting off on a dream he had about his own friend and crewmate. And what’s worse is that he didn’t look away in the dream when he saw you touching yourself. He didn’t even try. (To be fair, it’s not like he had control over what he dreamed about, nor could he control what he did in them, but that was a nonfactor to him.)

Zoro felt like shit.

The next time you talked to him, he turned crimson. He seemed distracted. He had been working out more than usual, so you told yourself it was the post-workout glow. You’d never seen him blush a day in your life, but sure enough, it was creeping up his neck and slowly starting to take over his cheeks.

He tried to forget his trip to the bathroom, but your pretty face made his heart thump and his stomach turn. He tried to forget the mental images his brain conjured up in his rabid state of desire. It was futile. He felt like he was going to be sick.

In your brief conversation after dinner the same day, you asked Zoro if he’d grab a drink with you. “It’s been a while,” you smiled at him, same as ever. “Let’s catch up in the next couple days over some sake. Deal?”

He hesitantly agreed. He missed you—the real you, not the dream version of you. When he said yes, you beamed at him, and his mouth went dry. He needed to get a grip and figure out what the fuck his problem was.

Zoro gave up on talking to you about the conversation he eavesdropped on over a week ago. He felt like he missed his opportunity (which is arguable) and, more than that, he felt like he wouldn’t know how to approach that conversation. What would he say at this point? “Hey, I’ve been having vivid dreams about you and I’m going fucking crazy?”

No. So, he kept it inside. He figured that he’d cross that bridge when he got to it. Would he ever admit that he heard the conversation? He wondered about this. Maybe he’d never fess up to it. Maybe he’d keep it to himself, internalize once again. But he was quickly learning that when he tried to stuff these huge emotions back inside of him, they got bigger, louder, more unruly. It was like psychological warfare, except the assailant was his brain.

At this point, the dreams felt all-consuming. He’d get so wrapped up in them at night that he felt like he was in a daze during the day. Perhaps he was being dramatic, or perhaps his brain was desperately struggling to regulate a whopping load of emotions he had never encountered before, or rather, that he had never let himself acknowledge before.

He worried that you could tell something was off with him. You could.

Later, you asked, “Hey Zoro, you doing ok?”

He stuttered out a response, flustered by your presence, falling apart in seconds. It was very unlike him. “Wha—? H-hey, uh, yeah, I’m fine. What’s up?”

“Nothing, just checking on you. You’ve been a bit spacey recently.” Your expression was one of concern. He seemed off, not to mention those dark circles of his. Was he getting sick? Was the insomnia coming back?

Upon hearing your words, it was like a lightning bolt hit Zoro. “You’ve been a bit spacey recently.”

What an insane coincidence. You said those very words to him in a dream a few nights ago, after which you complimented his eyes. He froze for a second, then tried to play off his shock with a yawn.

“I feel fine.” He shrugged. It wasn’t convincing in the slightest. “Just haven’t been sleeping the best.”

The paranoia was coming—did you know that he was dreaming about you? Had he been acting weird? Could you tell that he was thinking about you every moment of the day? God forbid, were you starting to form the misconception that he liked you in some romantic or erotic way? Fuck. This was getting ridiculous. Get a grip, man, he told himself.

You tried to ignore how odd he was acting. If he said he was fine, then he was fine.

He tried to convince himself that he was fine. He tried to wait it out and see that his attempt at convincing himself was effective.

It was not.

DREAM 9: A shocking revelation

Zoro’s dream the following night was delightful and concerning.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, fiddling with something. Maybe he was sharpening a sword, refitting a sheath, polishing his boots… something like that. That part was foggy. Behind him, Zoro felt a weight on the bed. He knew it was you.

You scooted close to him from where you were sitting and reached your hands under the hem of his shirt. Your fingers ran over his bare skin, relishing the feeling of his abs and happy trail, every inch of his taut, tanned skin. You reached around his front and wrapped your arms around him. Your palms were warm, and you moved closer, body flush on his from behind. It was not lost on him that he could feel your breasts pressing on his back.

“Zoroooo,” you cooed right in his ear. Goosebumps. “You’re no fun. Pay attention to me. I’m bored.” You were whining.

You tickled him, poked him, kissed his back through the fabric of his shirt. You were all over him and it felt like your hands were everywhere. You were begging him to put down what he was doing and give you his undivided attention.

“Fine,” he responded in mock annoyance, rolling his eyes and putting his things away. He turned, maneuvering his body so he was facing you. “What do you want me to do?”

You pouted. “I don’t know. I’m bored. Let’s lay down and cuddle. Please?”

The scene shifted. You two were lying in bed, facing each other. You were eye to eye, arms thrown over each other. Zoro tucked your hair behind your ear, breathless. He was enamored, entranced by your beauty and admiration. Your hand was placed under his shirt, resting on his side. The skin contact felt electric. You leaned in and started to pepper his face with kisses—a recurring theme in these dreams. He must have really wanted that.

He closed his eyes.

You first brushed your lips lightly over his, and then you moved to kiss all over one of his cheeks, all over his forehead, his other cheek, his chin, his nose, his eyes, his jawline, ending at his lips again. You nuzzled his nose, ran your fingers through his hair—it was like you couldn’t get enough of him. Your lips were soft, meeting his delicately. When you pulled away from him. You held eye contact, an affectionate smile playing across your lips. He smelled you, felt you, and felt enveloped by you.

Zoro leaned in and kissed your forehead. You giggled and pulled him closer.

He could feel himself starting to say something in the dream, working up the nerve to say something that made his heart feel like it would stop. The words were getting caught in his mouth, they felt like they were taking forever to form…

They were words he almost said to you once before in a dream. He forced them out through his cotton mouth and hesitation.

“I love you.”

When the words left his lips, that twisting feeling happened inside of him so intensely that it must have detonated something. Each piece of shrapnel sent bolts of lightning through his body; he felt like he was vibrating, euphoric, every nerve on fire. He couldn’t breathe.

The dream version of you looked into his eyes and nodded. “I know you do, Zoro. I see you.”

Buzzing, Zoro felt like he wanted to rip his heart out of his chest and give it to you. He wanted you to see him, to see every part of him, to bare his soul to you and say ‘look, here is everything in me, here is every part of me.’

You were about to pull him into another kiss before he awoke up with a start, sweating and practically shaking.

Zoro’s heart was beating out of his chest. He sat up. Immediately, his first instinct was to check whether or not you were really in his bed. You weren’t—to both his relief and disappointment. He checked the time—3:36AM. Far too early. But he couldn’t fall back asleep now, not when his heart was pounding like this.

Why did he tell you he loved you?

It would be an understatement to say that Zoro’s mind was racing. He recalled that in one of his first dreams he wondered if you would still feel lonely if he embraced you. But if he did more than embrace you, if he gave all of himself to you, what then? What would you feel if he did that?

Would you stop feeling lonely and sad if he gave everything to you, even his heart? Would you give him yours, in return?

He ruminated on the concept of giving all of himself to you. What did that mean, and why did the thought pass through his mind when he was dreaming?

To give you all of him, for you to see every part of him… was that love? Is this what it meant to love? If giving you every part of himself meant spending every moment with you that he could, kissing and caressing you, making you feel better, listening to every word you stored up inside, sharing every word he stored up inside… The realization hit him like a train.

He wanted that. He ardently wanted to fill in the hole that loneliness had carved out of your life. And he realized that there was one in his life, as well. A lacuna of would-be companionship that he had forever thought was out of reach.

Could he give you what you needed? Is that what love is? To share yourself with someone else, to want them, to cherish them, care for them, see them for who they are?

He wanted to give you all of him. He didn’t want you to feel lonely, sad, or distressed ever again. He wanted to always be there, he wanted you to know you could tell him anything, wanted to know you like the back of his hand, and he wanted you to know him like that, too.

Zoro understood now what that twisting, thumping feeling inside of him was. No, it wasn’t arrythmia, or indigestion, or anything of the sort—it had been lying low for months, boiling under the surface. It all clicked into place.

That stirring and twisting feeling? It was the feeling of that lock inside of him breaking into a million pieces. The lock around his heart that prevented him from wanting to love and from knowing how to… it was gone now, obliterated.

That impenetrable lock, the lead chains, the crushing weight of it…  He used to think that the key to that lock didn’t exist. But now that you were here, Zoro realized that you were the missing key. You were the one capable of ripping open that relentless opacity, that stoicism, that brick of pain that he tried to ignore and train away. You had ripped it to shreds, like it was nothing. You did it over the course of many months, many days, and even in his sleep.

Zoro realized that he was in love with you.

He wanted to recognize you completely and absolutely, and for you to do the same to him.

Zoro wanted to take showers with you and take turns shampooing each other’s hair. He wanted to hold your hand in public, feeling and seeing nothing else but you. He wanted to come home after a long day and hold you tight, kiss you and call you sweet names. He wanted to nuzzle your nose every day and drink up every smile like he was starving for it.

To think that you were so sad and lonely you cried? That shattered him. Hearing you be so vocal about it, seeing a different side of you that he never knew before—maybe he never felt this emotion until he met you for a reason. Now that the pieces were falling into place, he saw that it was you. It was always you. It was only you. It would only be you forever.

He did not have another dream about you for three nights.

< previous part | masterlist | next part >

taglist: @riftmage27 @eggrollforyou @imhwajaez @wiyenspanel @xxmysticxxx @moonmaiden1996

a/n: thanks so much for reading! part 3 is going to be a minute - lmk if you want to be on the taglist! i have yet to write (most of) it.

[not-magdi]

-it has always been you / lando Norris

Warnings: Alkohol, some weird dude

Words: 1.5k

Reading Time: 6min 25sec

A/N

Some cute friends to lovers trope cause I‘m bored :)

Hope you love it !

Y/N and Lando had been inseparable for years. Their friendship had started in the most unexpected way—a fateful encounter at a karting event when they were kids.

Y/N’s brother had been racing that day, and she had found herself sitting alone on a cold metal bench, watching the drivers zip around the track. Lando, always full of energy and curiosity, had plopped down beside her, still in his racing suit and smelling faintly of rubber and fuel.

“You look bored,” he had said with a cheeky grin.

“I’m not,” she had replied, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Yes, you are,” he had insisted, before launching into an animated explanation of how he was going to win the championship one day. That was the start of it all.

Over the years, they had become best friends, sharing everything from late-night texts about random thoughts to spontaneous road trips when life felt too heavy. Y/N was one of the few people who truly understood Lando’s hectic lifestyle, and in turn, Lando was her anchor in a world that sometimes felt overwhelming.

But while their friendship had always been easy and natural, Y/N had been harbouring feelings for Lando for quite some time. She’d never acted on them, fearing it would ruin the bond they had. And she was convinced Lando didn’t feel the same way. Why would he? He was charming, successful, and adored by fans worldwide.

-----

Tonight, their friends Max and Pietra had insisted on a night out. Y/N had initially resisted, claiming she was too tired, but Pietra wasn’t having it.

“Come on, Y/N,” Pietra had said, practically dragging her off the couch.

“You never go out anymore. You need this. Besides, we can all use a little fun.”

“Don’t worry,” Lando had chimed in with his usual playful smirk. “I’ll make sure you don’t embarrass yourself too much.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Y/N had shot back, rolling her eyes but secretly glad he was coming.

-----

The club was alive with energy, a pulsating mix of lights and music that seemed to electrify the room. Y/N followed Max, Pietra, and Lando through the crowd, her senses overwhelmed in the best possible way. The air was heavy with the scent of perfume, alcohol, and the faint metallic tang of sweat, but it was all part of the atmosphere.

Max was the first to hit the dance floor, his exuberance unmatched as he flailed his arms in exaggerated, dramatic moves. “This is my signature!” he shouted over the music, spinning in a circle.

Y/N burst into laughter, holding onto Pietra for balance as the latter tried to mimic his wild movements. “Max, you look ridiculous!” she called out, but her voice was nearly drowned out by the pounding bass.

“That’s the point!” he yelled back, sticking his tongue out before attempting a failed moonwalk.

Lando lingered close to Y/N, his usual cheeky grin plastered on his face. “Remind me to never let him dance at my wedding,” he joked, leaning in so she could hear him better.

“You say that like you’re not just as bad,” Y/N quipped, shooting him a playful glance.

“Excuse me,” Lando replied, feigning offence. “I have moved. You’re just not ready for them.”

“Oh, I’m ready,” she teased, her smile wide.

Lando nudged her shoulder with his, chuckling. “We’ll see about that.”

They found a spot near the edge of the dance floor, where Lando casually leaned against the wall, his eyes occasionally scanning the room. But his gaze always seemed to find its way back to Y/N. She was laughing more than usual, her face glowing in the neon light. He couldn’t help but admire how the stress of her week seemed to melt away.

“You having fun yet?” he asked, leaning down so his lips were close to her ear.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes bright. “Actually, yeah,” she admitted, her shoulders relaxing as the rhythm of the music washed over her.

Pietra returned moments later, handing Y/N a cocktail in a glass rimmed with sugar. “Here, try this. It’s amazing,” she said, her excitement evident.

Y/N took a tentative sip, her lips puckering slightly at the sweetness. “Wow, that’s good.”

“See? Told you!” Pietra beamed before disappearing back into the crowd with Max.

Y/N took another sip, then another. The drink was deceptively light, the alcohol masked by the sugary flavour. Before long, Pietra was back with another, and Y/N—caught up in the excitement—didn’t hesitate to take it.

By the time she was halfway through her third drink, the room felt warmer, the lights brighter, and her laughter came easier. Everything seemed a little funnier, a little lighter as if the weight she had been carrying all week had finally lifted.

“Easy there,” Lando said when she stumbled slightly, catching her by the arm before she could lose her balance. His grip was steady, grounding.

Y/N looked up at him, her giggles bubbling over. “What? I’m fine!” she insisted, though her unsteady footing said otherwise.

“You’re having a little too much fun,” he teased, his voice warm but laced with concern.

“Isn’t that the point of tonight?” she shot back, her words slurring slightly.

Lando chuckled, his hand lingering on her arm as he guided her back to a less crowded spot. “Alright, I’ll give you that. But maybe slow down a bit?”

“Party pooper,” she mumbled, sticking her tongue out at him.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress his grin. Y/N rarely let loose like this, and while he loved seeing her happy, a part of him couldn’t shake the need to keep her safe.

As they stood off to the side, Y/N’s attention was caught by a man weaving his way through the crowd toward her. She didn’t notice the way Lando’s posture tensed, his playful demeanour replaced by a quiet vigilance.

The man stopped in front of her, his height forcing her to crane her neck to meet his gaze. “Hey there,” he said, flashing what he probably thought was a charming smile. “Haven’t seen you around here before.”

Y/N offered a polite smile, stepping back slightly. “Oh, I’m just here with friends.”

He didn’t take the hint. “Well, lucky for me I found you. Can I buy you a drink?”

“No, thanks,” she replied, her voice tight. She glanced at Lando, who was already stepping closer.

The man leaned in, his tone dropping. “Aw, come on. Just one.”

Before Y/N could respond, Lando was at her side, his arm slipping around her waist with practised ease. The gesture was protective but natural as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Hey, babe,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Everything okay?”

Y/N looked up at him, her relief palpable. “Yeah,” she murmured, leaning into his side.

The man’s expression shifted, annoyance flickering across his face. “Didn’t realize she was taken,” he muttered, backing off with a forced smile.

“Yeah, she is,” Lando said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

As the man disappeared into the crowd, Y/N exhaled a shaky breath. “Thank you,” she said, looking up at Lando with wide eyes.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, his hand lingering on her waist for a moment longer before letting go. “Let’s get some air.”

-----

Outside, the cool night air was a welcome relief from the heat of the club. Y/N shivered slightly, and without a word, Lando shrugged off his jacket, draping it over her shoulders.

“Lando, you’ll freeze,” she protested, though she made no move to take it off.

“I’ll survive,” he said with a small smile. “Besides, you need it more than I do.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the distant hum of the city filling the air. Y/N clutched his jacket, her mind replaying the scene from the club.

“When you said you were my boyfriend…” she began hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. “It… it made me feel something. Something good.”

Lando turned to her, his expression unreadable. “Yeah?”

She nodded, her cheeks flushing. “I know you were just pretending, but… I’ve thought about it before. You and me.”

He stepped closer, his heart pounding. “You have?”

“Yes,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “For a while now. I just didn’t think you felt the same.”

Lando reached out, his fingers brushing against hers. “Y/N,” he said softly. “I’ve liked you for so long, but I was afraid I’d ruin what we have.”

“You wouldn’t ruin anything,” she whispered, meeting his gaze.

For a moment, neither of them moved, the world around them fading away. Then, slowly, Lando leaned in, giving her every opportunity to pull away. She didn’t. Their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss that deepened as their feelings finally found an outlet.

When they pulled apart, Y/N smiled, her forehead resting against his. “So… not just pretending, then?”

“Not even a little bit,” he replied, his voice warm and full of affection.

As they walked back into the club, hand in hand, Max and Pietra spotted them immediately.

“About time,” Max said with a grin, clinking his glass against Pietra’s.

Y/N and Lando laughed, but neither let go of the other’s hand for the rest of the night.

——-

Don’t forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !🩷

[maretinelli]

THIS IS LOVE

Lando Norris X Piastri!fem!reader

Summary: When Oscar's twin sister shares a feeling with Lando beyond friendship, the first to notice is the girl's own brother. And then, he and Lily help bring the two together.

Words: 2.7K+

Warnings: I think you can consider it something like friends to lovers, Y/n and Oscar being twins, Lily being cute, idiots oblivious to feelings haha and hanging out with friends (couple)

Author: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes that may be in the story. And you can request stories, just go to my profile and go to questions or messages. ❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

"This could easily be a couples' date," Lando commented casually as he slung his arm around Y/n's shoulders with a mischievous smile on his face.

Oscar rolled his eyes, but a smile escaped the corner of his lips. Y/n, in turn, laughed, pushing Lando's arm away from her shoulders.

"Hey, don't push it, Norris," she said, still laughing as the four of them entered the bowling alley, ready for the friendly competition that always ended in jokes and teasing.

--------

It was evident to anyone looking in from the outside: Lando Norris and Y/n Piastri had something special. It wasn't just the close friendship they'd built over the years - ever since Y/n started accompanying Oscar to the races - but the way they seemed to understand each other on a level that went beyond the norm. Their connection went beyond words or gestures, and everyone around them could tell there was something more between the two.

Everyone, except themselves.

Lando seemed unable to hide how much Y'n meant to him, even if he didn't realize it or admit it. He protected her, pampered her, flattered her in a way that only he could do, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

On the Piastri twins' birthdays, he never failed to send Y/n a gift, no matter where he was in the world. Of course, Oscar got something too, but Y/n's gifts were always absurdly more elaborate and full of meaning.

Like that last birthday, when Lando had sent Y/n a pair of Saint Laurent shoes that she had proudly worn during the FIA awards. At that event, although Oscar had offered her a seat as his guest, it was Lando who had taken her, making it clear to everyone that Y/n was important to him.

That same night, he surprised her once again. Before they walked onto the red carpet, he handed her a small black box with the Cartier logo in gold. Y/n's eyes widened as she opened it and found a stunning set of jewelry: A delicate diamond necklace and matching earrings.

"Lando... That's..." She began, completely stunned, not knowing whether to look at him or the present.

"Yeah, I know. It's beautiful, isn't it," he interrupted with a smile, shrugging like it was no big deal. "It's just a gift, Y/n. I wanted you to feel special today."

"You didn't have to..."

It's about you. You deserve this, Y/n. You deserve so much more, actually."

It was impossible to ignore how genuine he seemed, as if his only goal was to make her smile. And he succeeded. Y/n smiled, holding the small box like it was the most precious gift in the world because, for her, it wasn't just about the jewelry. It was about the gesture. And about him.

It was a night off from racing, a rare moment to relax. Oscar and Lando had suggested a game of bowling to unwind, and Lily and Y/n had happily accepted.

They chose one of the best break points in bowling, the atmosphere was a place with colorful lights, lively music and unlimited drinks, where it was easy to spend hours having fun.

As they picked out bowling balls, Y/n looked at Lando with a challenging smile.

"You know I'm going to beat you today, right?" She teased, leaning slightly towards him.

Lando arched an eyebrow, returning her smile. "Oh, really? I want to see you keep that confidence after the first round, Piastri Girl." He stepped so close that Y/n almost lost her breath, and then gently lifted her chin with one finger. "Good luck, princess" he murmured, before patting her back twice with a mischievous smile and moving on to pick up his bowling ball.

Yin stood there for a moment, somewhat stunned, while Lily and Oscar watched the scene from afar.

Oscar sighed, crossing his arms. "I know you've told me how much they love each other and don't realize it... But my stomach still turns seeing my sister with Lando."

Lily laughed and lightly slapped his shoulder. "Cut it out, Osc," she said, shaking her head in amusement. "You know, Lando can be a little... overly cheerful, but if they finally open up one day, he'll take great care of her. You can see it in his eyes."

Oscar rolled his eyes again, though a small smile formed on his face. He knew Lily was right, but that didn’t make it any easier for him. She was his sister, after all, and he had a reputation as a protective twin to uphold.

Oscar and Lily approached Y/n and Lando, who were still exchanging provocations in the short break before the game started.

"Lando, come with me to get the chips so we can start?" Oscar asked, pointing to the counter at the back.

Lando nodded, giving Y/n one last smile before following his friend. "Don't worry, Piastri Girl, I'll give you a chance to beat me today."

Y/n rolled her eyes with a smile as he walked away. Lily, taking advantage of the opportunity, sat on the bench next to her sister-in-law, who was now absent-mindedly fiddling with her cell phone.

Only one other group was on the opposite side of the room, while the venue played upbeat 2000s music. It was the kind of place where you felt comfortable enough to forget about time.

Lily watched Yin for a moment before smiling and dropping the bombshell, "You like Lando."

Y/n almost choked, stopping her cell phone and putting it in her pocket in a hurry. "What? No!" she replied, laughing a little, but with a touch of nervousness in her voice.

Lily just laughed, shaking her head. "I didn't ask. I'm saying! You like Lando."

Y/n bit her lower lip, looking away to where the counter would be and could hear Lando and Oscar laughing, while they took the chips. She sighed and looked away, confessing quietly: "Okay... I like him, but you can't tell anyone. I like having Lando around and, if this doesn't work out, I would lose his friendship."

Lily smiled, touching Y/n's arm affectionately. "Do you think no one notices? Everyone knows, Y/n. Only you two are oblivious to it."

Before Yin could respond, the two pilots returned with the tokens.

"Okay, guys," Oscar said, handing over the tokens. "Let's make this a competition: Female Engineers versus McLaren Drivers."

Y/n arched an eyebrow, laughing. "Oscar, I don't do engineering. Only Lily does."

Oscar shrugged. "Whatever, pick any name. It doesn't matter, because Lando and I are going to win anyway."

Y/n laughed and crossed her arms, exchanging a challenging look with her brother. The coexistence between the twins had always been marked by this slight competitiveness. Despite this, it was impossible to deny how close they were, always teasing each other, but with evident affection.

With the teams decided, the game began. Lando was the first to hit all the balls at once, and he turned to Y/n with a victorious smile.

"See? That's the difference between you and me. I make it look easy." He teased.

From afar, Lily and Oscar exchanged a knowing smile. Lily leaned towards her boyfriend and whispered, "I managed to make Y/n confess that she likes Lando."

Oscar raised his eyebrows in surprise, but then smiled. "Really? Let's try to get the two of them together today, then. I'll try to get something out of Lando too."

"Deal," Lily replied, walking to the lane to retrieve her ball.

"By the way..." She said out loud, turning to Oscar and Y/n "Just for the record, Y/n and I are ahead in the score."

Oscar burst out laughing. "Honey, that was just the first round for everyone!"

"And that makes me better than you!" Lily teased, laughing as she prepared to throw.

The room was filled with laughter, teasing and the light energy that only they knew how to create together. Far away, Lando watched Y/n as she focused on her turn, with that smile that he only seemed to use around her.

As time passed, the game continued to be lively. Laughter echoed through the cozy atmosphere, accompanied by the sound of balls rolling and pins falling.

Lando, as always, didn't miss the opportunity to tease Y/n every time he hit all the balls, while she only managed to knock down three.

"Seriously, Piastri Girl," Lando began, with a smug smile. "You have to try harder. I don't want you to say you only won because I'm nice."

Y/n huffed, crossing her arms. "I'm going to win, Norris, and it won't even be hard. I'm just giving you an advantage so you don't cry later."

Lando chuckled, giving him an amused look before moving on to his next move.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Lily and Oscar watched the game unfold. Without the two of them realizing, they were discreetly planning how they would make Lando confess his feelings for Y/n.

It was Y/n's turn, she confidently caught the ball and positioned herself. But as she threw it, she lost her balance and almost fell. Before she could hit the ground, she felt firm hands on her waist.

"Careful there, sweetie," Lando murmured, catching her and helping her regain her balance.

Y/n's eyes met his, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. The two exchanged an intense look, a mixture of surprise and something else that neither of them could name. They were so close, they could feel each other's breath.

The trance was broken by the sound of the ball hitting all the pins. Y/n smiled widely and raised her arms in celebration.

"STRIKE!" She screamed, running to hug Lily.

Lando chuckled as he watched the scene, but he looked a little dazed, his mind still stuck in the moment he had just shared with Y/n.

Oscar, attentive as always, noticed his friend's condition. Lando muttered something about getting more chips and headed for the counter. Piastri exchanged a knowing smile with Lily before following him, determined to seize the opportunity.

Lily, for her part, leaned against the bench with a mischievous smile, watching Y/n tie her sneakers.

"You felt your heart racing just now, didn't you?" Lily commented casually.

Y/n rolled her eyes, chuckling softly, not responding.

At the counter, Oscar approached Lando, who was distracted as he waited for the new chips.

"What's up? Everything okay?" Oscar asked in a casual tone.

Lando let out a short laugh and nodded. "All right, man."

Oscar crossed his arms, looking at him with a calculating expression. "So... Y/n is doing well today, huh? Or is it you who's distracted with her around?"

Lando paused for a moment, clearly uncomfortable. "What are you talking about, Oscar?" he asked, trying to hide it, but the slight blush on his face gave it away.

Oscar raised an eyebrow, noticing his friend's discomfort. "Ah, don't act like you don't understand, Norris. It's kind of obvious, you know?"

Lando laughed nervously and looked away, trying to appear casual. "Obvious what, Oscar? We're talking about bowling, remember?"

Oscar took a step closer, as if he were about to reveal a secret. "You know what I'm talking about. It's not bowling that's making you this way. It's my sister."

Lando snorted, shaking his head. "You're imagining things. Y/n and I are friends...close, that's all."

Oscar gave a cynical smile. "If you say so... But let me give you a warning: If you want something more, you better not play with her feelings. Because I won't hesitate to put you up against the wall if you hurt my sister."

Lando's tone grew more serious as he stared at Oscar. "I would never do that. Never."

Meanwhile, Y/n and Lily noticed how late they were. The Piastri girl looked at the delicate watch on her wrist.

"What's taking so long?" She puts her hands on her hips. "I'll take a look, I'll be right back, okay?"

Lily smiles, knowing it was a plan. "Sure, I'll take a break here."

Y/n smiles and starts to approach where they were. The counter wasn't facing the tracks, so they couldn't see the two pilots talking.

Walking down the hallway, she bumps into her brother, who is smiling mischievously. "Hey, look at you there!" She smiles and before she can say anything else, Oscar grabs her shoulders.

"I'll be with Lily if you need anything." He smiled and left.

Y/n frowns without understanding anything and opens her arms in question, as she watches her brother disappear into the hallway and return to the bowling alley.

"Y/n!" Lando's voice echoed behind her.

She smiles, oblivious to what had happened between her brother and Lando. "Hey, I thought you ran away from us!" Y/n laughs, lightly hitting his chest, but when she sees his nervous expression, her smile falls. "What's wrong?"

"I... need to talk to you. Now."

She stares into his green eyes, trying to understand what could be wrong, but nods. "Okay. Let's go."

They walk in silence to a quieter area of the venue, away from the noise of the bowling balls and the excited laughter. Lando stops, taking a deep breath, and turns to her.

"Y/n, before I say anything, I want you to know that... I never meant for this to happen. And I feel terrible about it, because you're Oscar's sister. But... ever since the first time I saw you, back at McLaren, at the first race... I haven't been able to stop thinking about you,"

Y/n's eyes widen in surprise as he continues, his voice becoming more hesitant.

"I tried, I swear I tried to ignore it. But you're amazing, Y/n. You make me laugh, you make me nervous in a way no one else can... And I know it's wrong... I guess... and that I shouldn't feel this way, but I can't help it."

Lando runs his hand through his hair, frustrated, his eyes fixed on the floor. "I'm sorry, I know this is absurd. And I... I don't expect anything from you. I just needed to get this out of my system. Because my love for you is overflowing."

He turns to leave, but Y/n quickly grabs his arm.

"Lando, wait!" He stops, reluctant, but doesn't look at her. "You're not the only one who feels this way," she says, her voice low, almost a whisper.

Lando looks up, surprised.

"Ever since that day... ever since you showed up at the McLaren garage and started talking to me like we were already friends... I knew you were different. And I tried to ignore it too, because you're my brother's best friend and you work with him, and that would complicate everything, but..." Y/n smiles shyly. "I guess my heart doesn't care much about rules. Because it loves you too."

Lando stares at Y/n in silence for a moment, as if trying to understand if what she said was real. Then, a nervous and relieved smile appears on his face.

"Are you serious?" he asks, his voice almost breathless.

She laughs, feeling her cheeks heat up. "I am. And I think Oscar already realized that, from the way he was acting just now.

Lando laughs too, feeling his nervousness dissipate. "He probably knows. He knows everything."

Y/n steps forward, staring at him closely. "So, what do we do now?"

Lando hesitates for a moment, but soon his fingers touch hers, intertwining them delicately. "I don't know. But I want to find out with you."

She smiles, and before he can think too much, Y/n pulls him into a slow, passionate kiss. Lando holds her tightly, as if he's been waiting for this moment forever.

[book-lore]

You know what? I just had this conversation and I am sharing it with the wider world so that a bunch more of you will either embrace the get hoped lifestyle or get more comfortable getting hoped because here is a bit of truth for you.

As your friend, I WANT to hear about your hyperfixations. I might not always be able to follow you as far as all that but that doesn't mean I want you to stop telling me about them. Tell me, dammit. Enjoy yourself. The thing about it isn't that I will become equally enamoured with your special interest, but that I enjoy hearing someone I care about talk about something with excitement and passion.

And yes, that means all the other things too. You're allowed to have emotions that range. You are allowed to cry. You are allowed to be forgetful and excited and happy and miserable and you are allowed to do all those things in the comfort of a friendship that doesn't dissolve the second that you show someone you are human. Too many of us grew up on transactional values and relationships. It's true that you probably shouldn't overwhelm someone you just met with all your emotional tides, but that isn't necessarily because they are taboo and weird to feel them. It's because you don't know that you aren't offering a torrent of emotional labour to someone who is currently barely head above water and while you might be able to relate to each other, maybe they need help too. Maybe they need a break before they can help you. Or maybe they are in need and it's time that you can be generous and offer a hand, knowing that all your problems will still be there to solve once they are on even ground again. And chances are, if they are a good friend, they want to give you those things too.

Being friends is enjoying the best, most insufferable and messy parts of a person because this is who they are and you wouldn't want them to be otherwise.

i am actually insufferable once I get comfortable with someone

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Hold Me Tenderly

Warnings: MDNI, sex, angst Summary: When woken up from a nightmare, you and Caleb are forced to confront some uncomfortable truths. WC: 3075 A/n: This week has been crazy. As I've mentioned in an earlier rant, there's more to Caleb than meets the eye and I'm here for it. I've seen a bump in toxicity since his launch, and I just want to take this space to say, please remember this is all FICTIONAL. Let people like who they like and if you have nothing nice to say, scroll on by.

It’s pitch black. You squint, your heart pounding frantically as you try to get your bearings. Up, down, left, right, direction seemed to have lost all meaning. It was dark. And quiet. Too quiet. The unsettling sound of your blood rushing through your own veins adds to the paranoia building inside you.

“Are you looking for me?” Your body jolts at the voice as you look around desperately for the source.

“Caleb?” You call through the echoing nothingness. He sounded so close but where was he? 

“Right here. Can’t you see me?” He sounded further away this time. You jog through the void, not even certain if there is ground beneath your feet. Were you actually moving? Or were you stuck in place, wasting effort to run through a medium that couldn’t be traversed?  

“Caleb, where are you? I can’t find you!” Your voice calls out, shrill, and panicked into the void.

“Here.” He sounded much farther away now, the faint sound of him disappearing into the dark. You give chase, plunging deeper into the unknown.

“Caleb!”

“Hey.” You’re shaken gently and your eyes fly open, your limbs tangling under the sheets as you thrash to free yourself.

“Whoa, calm down. It’s ok. It’s ok my little mouse.” Strong arms wrap around you and you’re pulled into a tight embrace against a firm, muscled, chest. You swallow, then blink your eyes open. The bedside lamp is turned on, and you feel relief flood your chest as Caleb’s face comes into focus. You sniff, burying your face into the comforting warmth of his skin. 

“Nightmare?” He asks softly, cupping the back of your head. You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “It’s gone now. I’m here.” He shushes you, patting your back soothingly.

You’re here, but you’re not here.

The thought enters your mind, unbidden, and suddenly, it’s too much. Your eyes squeeze closed, trying and failing to stop the cascade of tears that form. You couldn’t bear it anymore. Caleb came and went like day changing into night - too brief and without a trace. You hated it. You hated him acting like this tension between you didn’t exist, like the events at Skyhaven had been put to rest.

But most of all you hated that whenever Caleb visited, he never seemed to understand that you wanted him to stay. You had never said he was unwelcome, but he treated himself like an unsavory visitor, only packing enough clothes for a day, before leaving the next. 

And you hated yourself for being unable to shake off the question he had asked the last time he had visited. 

“Why didn’t you ask me who kept me up all night? Were you afraid I’d say it was you? Or were you scared I’d say it wasn’t?”

Wasn’t the answer to that obvious? Why else would you keep letting this man back into your life, over and over, like a moth drawn to a flame? Simply put, you were now in a precarious state, knowing you could never go back to a world where Caleb didn’t exist. It was infuriating, the way he thought he was being considerate, never overstaying his visits, when it was so plainly obvious you didn’t want him to go. Your heart broke each time he left without asking if there were feelings that went beyond the bond of growing up together. 

So you cry, and he holds you tenderly. You couldn’t remember the first time you had both done this, years ago, sharing a bed to avoid facing all the past trauma you’d endured together. But all you knew was that you never wanted there to be a last. 

“It’s just a dream baby girl,” Caleb murmurs in your ear. 

Your eyes snap open, and through gritted teeth you say, “It’s not just a dream Caleb.”

His hand pauses. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not a dream.” You sit upright, burying your face in your hands, your body racked with sobs, shaking and trembling on the bed. The sheets ruffle and Caleb pulls you against him, trying to console you. He seems to be at a loss about what to say. You take a shuddering breath and it’s like a dam burst inside you.

“You come when you want. And leave when you want. What about me, Caleb? Did it ever occur to you that I don’t want bits and pieces of you anymore?” You look up at him, tears streaking down your face, your heart skipping a beat as his eyes grow wide with shock. You ramble on. 

“I don’t know how we got here. And I’m trying to fix it but Caleb…I can’t fix it if you won’t stay.” 

You finally admit the things you’d tucked away inside, trying to bury them; now they were crawling out of your throat like ghosts desperate for a rebirth. You swallow, and Caleb grabs the glass of water from the nightstand and presses it into your hands. 

“Drink.” 

The word is said so firmly that you dare not refuse and you gulp, the liquid somehow helping dull the harshness of the lump in your throat. He puts it back before gathering you close to him.

“You realize that’s the first time you told me I could stay.”

“Well, I’m sorry! I thought it was obvious!” You hurl the words, which get muffled by the wall of his chest. 

Caleb huffs. “Well, it wasn’t. And who told you that I didn’t want to stay? I was trying to give you space.” He takes a deep breath. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me around anymore.”

Your heart clenches, and your hands tighten on his T-shirt. “Of course, I want you around Caleb. You’re my…” Your voice trails as you realize the term ‘best friend’ rang hollow. He was so much more than that. 

Caleb gently leans back so that he can look at your face. He cups your cheek, his eyes gazing at your face searchingly.

“What? What am I?” 

The question snaps the coil that had been steadily winding tighter during his stay. Frustrated, you move to your knees, hands springing out to capture his face. Before he can react, you roughly cover his mouth with yours. The kiss is raw, pouring out every moment of rage and loneliness you have felt since being reunited with him. You had never kissed him before, and a momentary flash of worry crosses your mind at the implications but they’re pushed out as you take what you had been desiring for so long. 

Caleb groans lowly at the feeling of your soft lips against his but his mind is fighting propriety. “Wait. Hang on, wait baby girl.” Caleb’s large hands catch yours and he breaks the kiss, trying to put some space in between you both. 

“Are you sure about this?” Caleb’s eyes are painted with confusion and doubt, but there is no denying the growing darkness at the edges of his irises. Despite everything, neither of you had dared cross that line, the one that threatened to upend your complete understanding of each other. 

“Never been more sure of anything in my life.” 

Your consent brings forth a growl from his throat, and finally, finally, he claims you back. You revel in the push of his body against yours, the hard muscles pressing against your softness as he wraps both arms around you and you’re crushed under his weight as both of you crash onto the mattress. Everything was fair game now, no qualms asked. His mouth, hot and demanding, finds yours, and your hands anchor onto his shoulder blades, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you than he already was. Everything about him was familiar, yet different. 

You’d held his body before, cupped his cheeks, and cuddled him during the bad days, but now, you feel the tension in his body as the boundaries between friendship and something more start to blur. The raging ache in your chest that had been clawing at you since you had left Skyhaven now had a name; possessiveness.

Because he was yours. And weren’t you his? Was it fate that had brought you two together at the shelter after the day of the Chronorift Catastrophe? It hardly seemed to matter but now, the both of you were intricately bound together and you couldn’t figure out where he ended and you started. All that mattered was that he was here. 

A gasp leaves your mouth as Caleb rakes his teeth down your lips, nibbling and sucking the soft flesh. Carding your fingers through his hair, you wait until the sting has passed before leaning up to pepper his face with little kisses, causing him to pause as he catches his breath.

“I was afraid you’d say yes.” 

“What?” Caleb’s eyes knit in confusion as he regards through the haze in his brain.

“Your question. I was afraid you’d say yes.” Your breath hitches as he cushions your head with his arm, gazing down at you with affection. 

“Why?” He murmurs as he dips down to lick and nibble your ear, sending currents of heat down your spine.

“Because Caleb. I’m always afraid. I thought I lost everything during the chronorift. I didn’t want to dare ask for more. Because asking for more means being vulnerable to getting hurt.”

Caleb’s eyes are full of emotion. “I didn’t want to ask you for more,” he admits quietly. “Because I know you are already empty from giving me whatever you have now.” 

The room falls into silence and the only thing that can be heard is the hammering of your hearts, pounding in sync with each other. 

“Take me, Caleb.” You murmur and his heart nearly stops in his chest. “I can never be empty if you’re here. But promise me you’ll stop leaving the way you do.” Your voice hitches. “I can’t do it all over again.” 

Caleb presses kisses to your temples, rubbing your noses together like a puppy and there’s conviction in his voice as he speaks. “I won’t. I promise I’ll never be gone long enough for you to start questioning my position in your life.” 

Your hands start to trace his face and he catches one of them, kissing your fingertips and sighing against your palm. The heat between you threatens to consume you whole. When his mouth touches yours, you open and let in his tongue, exploring the taste and wetness. His hands are now bruisingly dug into your waist like he’s steeling himself from going too fast and rough.

Primal instinct pours into his veins and visions of his past fantasies flood his brain; ripping off your clothes while his hands spread apart your legs. How wet you’d feel as he tasted the sweet nectar of your sex before plunging his cock so deep within you that you’d feel for him for days long after it was over. How long had he held back from acting on those impulses?

He grits his teeth as he rolls you over onto him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to control himself having you pinned powerless underneath him. You’re looking at him in a confused daze, then, with a gesture so cute that it almost made him lose restraint, you raise your arms above your head. He leans up, dragging the pajama shirt off your torso, swallowing hard as you reveal yourself to him. Those soft, inviting breasts, the ones he’d imagined for years now, were perfect. He cups them reverently as he presses kisses to your cleavage, squeezing and enjoying the feel of your flesh. 

Your body reacts naturally to him, responding so strongly that you feel like you might combust from the rising need gathering in your sex. Your clit throbs within its folds, swollen and delicate, as it waits to be unsheathed. Caleb’s erection was straining against the fabric of his shorts, brushing against your crotch and as he pinched and rolled your nipples between his fingertips, you started to grind against him. 

A hiss escapes from him as he looks up at you, crazed with desire, the sight of you rubbing against him pouring fuel into the fire. He sits up, crossing his legs and upsetting your balance before drawing you securely onto his lap. His head dips to suckle, the feel of his tongue and teeth on your nipple sending shocks of pleasure through your system. You struggle against him, finding the hem of his T-shirt and undressing him, amazed at the sight of his bare chest. 

You sigh before running your hands over the expanse, his mouth busying itself with your breast again. There was no shame or reluctance as you took from each other. A sheen of sweat covers your bodies as you tease and stroke each other. Every small gasp, whimper, and moan was part of a private symphony, and he was desperate to hear you sing. 

You could feel the drip of moisture inside your sex now and were growing impatient from the wait. Your eyes lock with Caleb’s, those smokey, purple irises watching you intently. When your fingertips hook into his waistband, he doesn’t question you, but with a show of strength, braces his palms on the bed and lifts his hips. You slide forward slightly but manage to yank off the garments below his knees, watching his cock spring free from its confines, weeping precum from the slit.

“Fuck. Don’t look at me like that.” Caleb’s cheeks are flushed and his voice is gravelly, a soft rumble of barely contained need. He bites back a moan as your fingers curl around his shaft, squeezing and pumping him tantalizingly, and his hips rock against you as pleasure floods his brain. His hand catches your wrist, stilling you as he tries to control the rushes of arousal that shoot through him. His cock felt painfully hard and your willingness was driving him to the edge.

Without missing a beat, Caleb pulls off your shorts and panties, panting as your wet sex hovers over the tip of his cock, your knees sinking into the mattress as you try to settle back on his lap. He groans wantonly as your pussy, moist and warm, brushes against his engorged head, mixing your essence with his. It felt divine, and your hips start to seek friction, dragging the length of his cock in between your folds, gasping softly into his ear each time it hits your clit. 

“That’s right baby girl. Use me. I’m all yours.” Caleb whispers encouragement into your ear and it only makes you want to claim him even more. You whimper as you raise as high as your knees will take you, sliding the slick little bud along his slit, trying to fit it into the little hole that was leaking those milky beads from his shaft. 

“Caleb.” Your voice is a whine as your nails dig into his back, dancing so carefully along the ridge so that your clit doesn’t miss any action. 

“Oh, that’s it little mouse.” Caleb coos at you while his hands stroke down your back. “My sweet girl. Take what you need.” His fingers indent into your hips to help guide your movements and you feel a similar series of small spasms flutter their way into your core. Knowing you’re close you use Caleb, solid and grounding, as an anchor and hump him with abandon, your breasts bouncing with each movement. You’re both in a trance, broken from it when you feel the tension in your clit suddenly start to feel wonderfully light and sublime. You moan as your climax hits you, continuing to stimulate the little bud on his tip as the rest of the orgasm follows, sending ripple after ripple of hot pleasure through you. Your mouth hangs open as you pant from the exertion, then are caught off guard as Caleb cups your face and kisses you.

While he was occupied with your mouth you raise your hips and ease your fluttering hole onto his length. A guttural grunt spills from Caleb’s mouth into yours as you continue to lower your pussy onto him, taking him further into your slick welcoming heat. His cock throbs as it slips further inside you and he watches your face as you settle to his size. You felt so full, the way his cock filled your inner space, and when he rolls his hips, you cling onto him for dear life. You’d never thought he could feel so good, feel so comforting as his meat thrusts up into you before easing back down. 

Your hips start to coordinate a rhythm to his movements, sinking onto him as he pushes up, helping him bottom out each time, and he swore he could see stars forming around him. You were so tight, so inviting, and so unbelievably sexy as you writhed in passion along with him. 

“Fuck little mouse.” Caleb’s vision blurs at the edges as he feels himself on the precipice of a climax. “You feel good. So damn perfect.” He chases his orgasm, his thrusts growing more urgent and sloppy as he did so. Your juices coat his cock and start to form a ring around his length, your walls quivering and sucking him further in towards your cervix. 

Caleb’s abdomen is rigid and he feels every part of him tensing up in anticipation for a mind-blowing finish. He moans, the noise sexily floating into the air, then holds you tightly against him as he finishes, spilling himself messily into your quivering channel, the thick jets of seed coating your walls white. He doesn’t move, savoring the closeness and intimacy of having you pressed up against him, sated and warm. After a few moments, he maneuvers both of you to lay down, his softened cock still nestle within you as you immediately move closer to snuggle into his chest.

“No more running away. Whatever happens, we’ll talk it out. And I promise I won’t leave you unless you’re screaming at me to get out.”

You chuckle quietly, then kiss his chin. 

“Never. Unless you refuse to make your braised chicken wings for me.” 

He laughs heartily and both of you feel some of the awkwardness between you ease. It wasn’t going to be easy but you were both determined to fix whatever had been lost. One step at a time, you reminded yourself, before snuggling into Caleb and finally drifting off into a dreamless sleep. 

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

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