#but I’m not ready to admit that one out loud

[snexy-the-snail]

Personal Night light

@softsnugglystomach there we go! Less of a taunting pred ;)

Poseidon had tried to create distance between him and his mortal child. Not because he didn’t care, oh no the opposite. His entire being ached with the need to reassure Percy was loved, adored, and cherished. The bitter feeling in his chest, however, was a major obstacle to that. How could he even think about doing that to his son? Being trapped inside, being helpless, in the suffocating dark with no space to move or to-  

He lets his breath out, forcing himself to focus on the weight pressed against him right now. Percy was resting right now, he was safe, he was fine. He swallows thickly, running a hand through the raven curls. He hadn’t ruined their relationship either, Percy was visiting him. He was praying, and asking for help, slightly demanding that he stay in the cabin for some nights so he could rest. He tightens his grip on his child, dipping his head to press a kiss against his forehead. The teen of course didn’t even stir, other than a small twitch.  

“You get that from your mother.” He murmurs absent mindedly, closing his eyes with a sigh. He leans more against the pillows propped up behind him, savoring the moment. “Though you’re as reckless as the sea, and I fear that will be your undoing.”  

The bitter feeling practically claws at his chest, feeling like acid biting into his very being. Percy was safe. He didn’t need to worry about anything else right now other than allowing his son some time to sleep. The clock in the room seemed deafeningly loud. Time was supposed to flow quickly and yet Poseidon couldn’t help but feel like it was dragging on.  

He barely noticed Percy stirring, until the demigod pushed away from him with a sleepy groan. “You good dad?” Percy murmurs groggily, fondness blooming in his chest as he watched the teen rub the sleep from his eyes. “Yes...I’m fine.” Poseidon answers, bringing a hand up to caress the boy’s cheek.  

“Really? Cause I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me who exploded the fountain.”  

Poseidon blinks, tilting his head to the side to look at the center of the cabin. The marble fountain he had given Percy had water spilling over the edges, small waves crashing about in its own miniature storm. “Ah...” he murmurs, waving one of his hands, the water retreating back into the fountain without a mess to be seen.  

“Seriously, you alright dad? You’ve got a weird...I don’t know, you just seem upset.” Percy prompts again. The only light coming from the moon shining in through the windows, and his own mouth when he spoke. Even then it was enough to see the concerned glint within the boy’s eyes, admits the drowsiness at least. He lets a soft hum out, his hand sneaking its way into the raven-colored curls, cradling the back of the boy’s head as he pressed his forehead lightly against his son’s. “You don’t need to worry about your old man.” He reassures. 

Percy seemed unimpressed, pulling back and stretching. “Being sent on a lot of quests let me learn a lot of things dad.” he starts out, pulling the blanket more around himself. Poseidon noting it was the shark one Sally had gleefully bought at the pier a few months ago. “Like you need way more ambrosia than you think, anything and everything will go wrong, and Gods lie.” he says so causally it made a sense of guilt rise in his chest with that acidic bitter feeling.  

“And I know you’re lying.” 

Percy had to be bluffing...Thought the look in his eyes let Poseidon know that his son wasn’t. One thing that had been painfully clear throughout the years was that his son was as stubborn as they came, and he was not about to test how far that truly went. “I am... having a hard time.” He admits after a moment, hating when Percy gave him a look, pulling the blanket tighter over himself. “Hard time how?” the demigod prompts.  

Theres silence between the two of them, Poseidon not ready to admit everything yet. His regrets of the past, his own self-hatred over his needs, how much he feared how short his mortal child’s life was. Percy caught on rather quickly, however, his shoulders drawing in. He could read his child’s thoughts to understand what he was thinking though. It felt a bit like an invasion of privacy.  

“It's about eating me, isn’t it?” Poseidon flinches, his gaze dropping. “I wish you wouldn’t phrase it like that.” He grumbles, not denying it at all. He hadn’t done it often, only when he was desperate to edge the acidic bitterness that curled in his chest. Triton he knew, did it more often than not, practically making a beeline for Percy whenever he visited.  

“Look unless you can come up with a better explanation for it, I’m calling it eating.” Percy shoots back narrowing his eyes with a huff, before laying back down, resting his head in the crook of Poseidon’s neck. The sea god quick to rest a hand on his son’s back, lightly rubbing circles into the tense muscles. “Holding sounds much nicer, and I’m doing just that, holding you inside where nothing can get you.”  

He rests his cheek on the boy’s mess of curls, closing his eyes with a pleased hum. Holding was a much better term considering any demigod swallowed down was meant to simply just be held there, safe within their divine parent. “Yeah, but you’re also, literally swallowing me.” Percy points out, leaning into his touch.  

“There are other ways, I just assumed simply just having you appear inside would be...disorientating.” Poseidon admits, his free hand combing through his son’s hair, lightly tugging any tangles out. “Same with simply just...putting you inside.”  

A small shiver comes from Percy, the boy shifting slightly as he curls more into the god. “Okay, you know what fair. I’ll take swallowing over that.” He grumbles. Poseidon chuckled at the response, giving his son a light squeeze.  

The silence falls over them comfortably, Poseidon resting his eyes in this time. Percy was safe. It was his mantra he more often than not would mentally reassure himself with. The demigod was more than capable and there was no reason for the fear...somewhat.  

“Go ahead.” 

Poseidon startled a bit, having thought that the boy had already fallen back asleep. “What?” He prompts, unsure if he had heard what was said. Percy didn’t mean... 

“Obviously you’re struggling and... I know that it...ya know helps.” Percy mumbles, shrugging. Part of him had expected for the god to agree instantly, and gulp him down then and there, He was not expecting Poseidon to guide him into a sitting position and smooth his hair back. If anything, his dad seemed...concerned, not eager. “It may...but that is my burden to carry Percy, not yours.” 

Warmth shoots through him at that, Percy swallowing the lump in his throat. “O-oh but um...doesn’t it? You’re obviously uncomfortable so...” He trails off, unsure on what to say. When Triton did it normally, he didn’t have a say, either being asleep or too overwhelmed with sea politics to care. Hermes had sorta sued it as a forced bedtime, and the few times Poseidon had done it he had either been at near death or asleep. This was the first time he felt...sorta in control about this whole thing.  

“You’re alive, I can see you breathing, that is more than enough for me.” 

Dammit this was making it way harder.  

“Don’t make me insist. I mean it dad...I want to help and honestly...it makes sleeping a little easier.” He mumbles, dropping his gaze. His dad quick to tilt his chin back up. The god’s expression was so tender, filled with warmth and love. It made his insides flip. “Don’t lie. You don't need to do it. I am satisfied with just being able to be here with you.” 

“Not lying! Trust me, if I didn’t want this, I’d kick up a fuss, I’m pretty sure I bit Triton the other day when he didn’t back off.” Biting his half-brother. Ha. That totally would’ve gotten him smite in the past.  

Poseidon chuckles at the reminder, staying silent for a bit before placing a hand on Percy’s shoulder giving it a squeeze, the grip was firm, but gentle. “I don’t want to trap you. I don’t...I just want you safe...” He murmurs.  

“I’d let you know if I felt trapped. I think I’m pretty good at saying what I want when it comes to gods.” Percy says with a weak smile, pleased when it got another chuckle from the god. A dipping sensation in his stomach gave him warning as his size shrunk. Small, but not as small as he was used too when it came to his dad. “I feel like any time I wear these pjs I always end up in a stomach.” He jokes, shrugging off his now massive, to him, blanket. His trusty shark pjs, surprisingly resistant to saliva and inner digestive system juices.  

“Ironic, considering the nature of sharks.” Poseidon muses, pulling Percy more against his chest, as he sits up fully. “You’re just the bigger fish in this situation.” Percy says with a small laugh, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his dad brushed his hair aside.  

“Mm I suppose so. Though, there are plenty of fish who do not need a size advantage.” 

“Hey, I didn’t ask for an ichthyology lesson, just eat me nerd.” 

Percy smiles, when Poseidon still hesitates. If this was Triton, he’d already be halfway down already. “I’m fine. Promise.”  

“I just...Want you to be sure...” Poseidon murmurs. Sighing shakily in relief when Percy gives him confirmation. Percy closes his eyes, shivering when he feels the familiar warmth rush over his face. As usual it was like being at the beach during a warm summer day. Pleasant, warm, and for him safe. He scrunched his face up as shortly after the warmth was followed by his face pressing into his dad’s mouth, slick saliva clinging to his skin as he was eased further inside. A reassuring hum vibrating all around him as his face pressed in more. Thanks to the glow he could see everything, well once he opened his eyes a crack. Blue illuminated the way, Percy squirming slightly at seeing the back of the god’s throat. Gods it was so weird. He was being eaten alive and yet...completely fine with it. If someone had told 12-year-old him that not only was his dad a god but would regularly eat him he'd probably cross the street immediate.  

His heart rate speeds up when the first swallow drags him into the entrance of the throat, strong muscles latching onto him and keeping a firm grip on him. The next few seconds as always were slightly uncomfortable, slick muscles pulling him down, the sensation of falling setting in his gut as he was lifted up with his dad tilting his head back. Soon he grimaces as his face pressed against the entrance to the stomach, which gave with little issue, slipping into the space with no issue. Awkwardly curling up as more of him slipped inside, until he was completely cradled by his father’s stomach.  

“Percy?”  

As usual the God’s voice echoed around him, vibrating the space he was shifting around in. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He responds quickly, trying to right himself, which was proving to be harder than he liked. He grunts as he presses his arms out, trying to push himself up.  

“Here let me-” Percy yelps when an outside pressure guides his body upright, then says firmly placed on his back. “There, better?”  

“Actually yeah- how'd you do that so fast?” he asks, leaning against this dad's hands, enjoying the outward comfort. The glowing brightens briefly before dimming back to its original soft glow. “Practice.” came his reply. 

“come on, you’re not even going to give me an inkling of why?” He whines, closing his eyes with a pleased sigh. As much as he still thought this was gross, it still totally was, there was a certain comfort to it. It was like being in the sea in a sort of way, but better. The charge felt cleaner in a certain way, stronger and purer.  

“mm...No, I believe you’re meant to be asleep.” Poseidon muses, Percy rolling his eyes. “Ugh, you’re no fun.” He says, letting a yawn out. “But...thanks.” He mumbles afterwards. “I know you don’t really have to stay but it...really does help with sleeping.”  

The glow brightened around him, the hands pressing in more around him. “I’m glad.” Poseidon murmurs, sounding a bit choked up.  

[sihtryggr]

I’ve fallen victim to the Ottomon crackship.

[pucksandpower]

Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader

Summary: congrats … it’s a boy!

You wake up to the sound of the apartment door closing, followed by Charles’ familiar footsteps down the hallway. Sunlight streams in through the curtains as he enters the bedroom, still dressed in his sweaty workout clothes.

“Mon amour, you’ll never believe what just happened,” he says, unable to contain his excitement.

You rub the sleep from your eyes. “What is it, babe?”

“I adopted Oscar Piastri.”

You blink a few times, unsure if you heard that correctly. “You … adopted Oscar Piastri? The McLaren driver?”

“Yes!” Charles exclaims, flopping down on the bed beside you. “It all started when he tweeted about wanting to find Monégasque roots so the Monaco Grand Prix could be his home race.”

“Okay ...” You try to wrap your head around this bizarre situation.

“So I replied saying I could just adopt him if needed. And you know how Oscar is, always ready with a witty comeback.” Charles grins. “He said to call him Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc and that he wants to meet Leo on Thursday at McLaren.”

“Charles ...” You can’t help but laugh at the sheer absurdity. “You can’t just adopt a fully-grown man! Especially another F1 driver!”

“Why not?” He throws his arm around you, pulling you close. “We’re gonna be one big happy family. The two of us, Leo, Oscar, Ollie, and whoever else we decide to adopt along the way.”

You playfully shove him away. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Maybe a little.” Charles winks. “But you love me for it.”

Rolling your eyes, you get out of bed and head for the kitchen, Charles trailing behind. “So does this mean Oscar is coming for family dinner this Thursday?”

“Of course! We have to celebrate properly.” Charles scoops Leo up from his bed, cradling the puppy in his arms. “What do you say, Leo? You ready to have another big brother?”

Leo licks Charles’ face, tail wagging excitedly. You lean against the counter, watching your husband and puppy with a fond smile.

“I suppose I’ll have to set an extra place at the table,” you muse. “Your mother is going to flip when she finds out about this.”

“Maman keeps asking when we’ll give her grandchildren, she’ll be thrilled!” Charles insists. “Who wouldn’t want Oscar as a grandson?”

You snort at that. “Grandson? You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

“I’m serious!” He sets Leo down and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “We can make it official. Have a baby shower and everything once this weekend is over with.”

“You’re unbelievable.” You shake your head in amused exasperation, resting your hands on his chest.

Charles leans in close, his warm breath fanning across your face. “Admit it, my particular brand of crazy kinda does it for you.”

You bite your lip to stifle a grin. “Keep talking and maybe I’ll consider it.”

His eyes spark with mischief and he dips his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You melt against him, tangling your fingers in his hair and kissing him back with equal fervor. A loud bark from Leo breaks you apart, both slightly flushed.

“Not in front of the puppy,” Charles teases, booping Leo on the nose.

You swat his arm. “Stop being a brat and go take a shower, you’re all gross and sweaty from the gym.”

“Mmm, why don’t you join me?” He waggles his eyebrows in an over-exaggerated leer.

You laugh, shoving him away playfully. “Not a chance, mister. I have to go out and buy another place setting for our new family member.”

“Can I at least have a good luck kiss? It’s Monaco race week, after all. I’ll need all the luck I can get.” Charles bats his eyes at you in an exaggerated pout.

Shaking your head fondly, you rise up on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “There. Now go get ready.”

Still grinning like a loon, Charles saunters off to the bathroom. You crouch down and scoop up Leo, pressing a kiss to the top of his fuzzy head.

“Your dad is something else, you know that?” You murmur affectionately.

A few hours later, you return home laden with groceries to find Charles lounging on the couch scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you enter, eyes bright.

“Good timing, I was just about to call you.”

“Oh yeah?” You set the bags on the counter and start unpacking. “What’s up?”

“I was thinking ...” Charles gets up and comes over, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “We should do something special for Oscar’s first official family dinner. Maybe a nice home cooked meal out on the balcony?”

You lean back against his chest with a contented hum. “That does sound lovely.”

“I’ll cook!” Charles volunteers immediately. “My famous carbonara?”

“You just want to show Oscar you can manage to make something without burning the apartment down, don’t you?” You laugh, twisting in his embrace to face him.

Charles ducks his head sheepishly. “Maybe a little.”

“Well, I’m not complaining.” You peck him on the cheek. “Go ahead and make your carbonara for our new adopted son.”

“Yes!” He pumps his fist in the air victoriously.

You shake your head at his antics, warmth blooming in your chest. “I love you, you big goof.”

The smile Charles gives you is utterly radiant. “I love you too.”

He pulls you in for a deep, lingering kiss, holding you close. You get so lost in the moment that you don’t notice Leo trotting up and pawing at your legs until he lets out a pointed bark. Laughing, you reluctantly break the kiss.

“Sorry, baby.” Charles scoops up the puppy, scratching behind his ears. “We didn’t mean to leave you out.”

You take Leo from his arms, pressing a smiling kiss to his soft fur. “Don’t worry, you’ll always be our favorite.”

“That’s right,” Charles agrees, booping Leo’s nose. “No matter how many race car drivers we adopt, you’ll always be number one.”

The three of you spend the rest of the afternoon lounging contentedly together, Charles and Leo snuggled up on either side of you. It almost makes you forget the madness that kick started this whole situation in the first place.

Almost.

A few days later, after the drivers have finally been freed from their Thursday media obligations, your doorbell rings. You share a look with Charles as Leo starts barking.

“I’ll get it,” he says, already knowing who it is.

Sure enough, a few moments later Charles returns to the living room with Oscar in tow, looking rather sheepish. You rise to greet your new son.

“Oscar, hi! Come on in.” You pull him in for a hug, which he returns tentatively.

“Sorry about all … this.” Oscar gestures vaguely as you part. “I was just joking on Twitter but then Charles actually went and-”

“Adopted you, yeah.” You laugh. “Don’t worry about it, we’re happy to have you as part of the family.”

“Still getting used to that idea, to be honest.” Oscar scratches the back of his neck.

You wave a dismissive hand. “Well, get ready for lots of family gatherings and parental nagging from this point on.”

“Oh boy.” Despite his words, Oscar’s mouth quirks up in an amused grin.

“Starting with tonight’s big family dinner out on the balcony,” Charles interjects, slinging an arm around Oscar’s shoulders. “You like pasta?”

“Do I ever.” Oscar brightens. “Is Leo gonna be there too?”

“Of course! Can’t leave out my favorite son.” Charles scoops up the puppy, plopping him in Oscar’s arms. “Here, get acquainted with your new little brother.”

“Hiya little guy,” Oscar says softly, instantly melting as Leo licks his face. You watch the tender interaction with a warm smile.

“He’s taken a real shine to you already,” you comment. “I think Leo approves of his new big brother.”

Oscar ducks his head shyly but you can see the corners of his mouth tugging up into a grin. “Guess that makes me an official part of the family then.”

“Damn right it does!” Charles crows, throwing an arm around each of your shoulders and pulling you both in for an enthusiastic group hug.

You laugh, squished between them. “Easy there, dad. You’re gonna smother the poor kid before he’s even settled in.”

“What, you’re not excited to finally have your dream son?” Charles teases, ruffling Oscar’s hair affectionately. “Our little family is complete now.”

Rolling your eyes fondly, you extricate yourself from the embrace. “Why don’t you boys go set up for dinner while I start cooking? The balcony still needs to be prepped.”

“You got it, mon cœur.” Charles drops a kiss on your cheek before herding Oscar out towards the balcony, Leo cradled in his arms. “Come on, son. Let’s get this place looking perfect for your first official Leclerc family dinner.”

You shake your head as their voices fade down the hall, chuckling under your breath. Only your husband would take a silly Twitter joke this far. But as you start gathering ingredients for your grandmother’s legendary bolognese recipe, you can’t help but feel a swell of contentment.

Having Oscar around is certainly going to take some getting used to. But there’s no denying the warm affection and familial love you already feel towards the bashful but kindhearted young man. He fits right in with the playful, chaotic energy that defines your little household.

By the time the sun begins to dip below the horizon, bathing the apartment in a warm golden glow, the balcony is set up beautifully. You carry out the steaming pots of food to find Charles and Oscar setting out plates and glasses, Leo scampering around their feet. Your heart feels full just looking at them.

“This all looks wonderful, you two,” you say, setting the food down on the table. “Now we just need the guest of honor to arrive.”

“Maman’s never been late to dinner a day in her life,” Charles assures you. “She’ll be here any minute.”

Sure enough, there’s a rapid knocking at the door only moments later. You share an amused look with Oscar before going to answer it, Charles and Leo trailing behind.

“Maman!” Charles exclaims as you pull open the door to reveal his mother waiting on the other side. “Perfect timing.”

“Of course, we can’t start dinner without-” She breaks off abruptly as her eyes land on Oscar hovering behind you. “Charles, darling, who is this?”

“Maman, I’d like you to meet Oscar.” Charles beams as he gestures between them. “Your new grandson.”

A heavy silence falls over the room as Charles’ mother processes this bombshell. Her gaze flicks between the three of you, searching your faces for any sign that this is all an elaborate prank.

Finally, she seems to deflate with a sigh. “Oh Charles … what have you done now?”

And just like that, the floodgates open as both of you rush to explain the situation, talking over each other eagerly. Watching the animated scene unfold, Oscar catches your eye with a helpless look.

You just shrug, a soft smile playing at your lips. Chaotic as it is, this is your family now and wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

The following week, the doorbell rings just as you’re putting the final touches on dinner. Charles bounds over to answer it, Leo hot on his heels.

“Oscar! Ollie! Good, you’re both here.” Charles’ voice carries easily through the apartment.

You poke your head out of the kitchen, oven mitts still on. “Is that our other son I hear?”

“The one and only!” Ollie Bearman strolls in behind Oscar, looking completely at ease.

Oscar raises an eyebrow at the younger driver. “Why is nobody surprised you’re here?”

Ollie shrugs nonchalantly. “Teen pregnancy?”

You let out an undignified snort of laughter as Oscar gapes at him. “Don’t look at me, Charles carried you for nine months himself.”

“What?” Ollie whips his head around to stare at Charles in abject horror.

Charles just grins, slinging an arm around each of their shoulders. “You heard the woman. My body is a wonderland.”

“Oh my god.” Oscar buries his face in his hands as you dissolve into peals of laughter. “Why are you like this?”

“Because it’s fun to watch you squirm,” Charles replies cheerfully.

You wipe tears from your eyes as you head back into the kitchen. “Dinner’s just about ready, come grab a plate! Oh, and pray you don’t get food poisoning.”

Soon you’re all settled around the balcony table, tucking into plates piled high with food. Ollie kicks things off by turning to you with a smile.

“This is amazing, thanks for cooking!”

“Don’t thank me, it was all Charles this time,” you say, gesturing to your husband sitting across from you.

Ollie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You cooked all this? Damn, maybe having you as a dad won’t be so bad after all.”

Charles throws his hands up in mock offense. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’m an excellent father.”

“If you say so.” Ollie smirks, shoveling another forkful of pasta into his mouth.

Oscar just shakes his head in amazement. “I still can’t believe you actually went through with adopting us.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Charles leans back in his chair, casual as can be. “You’re both great kids. Perfect sons.”

“Even if we didn’t ask for it?” Ollie points out around a mouthful of food.

You tsk disapprovingly. “Mind your manners, young man.”

Ollie’s eyes go comically wide and he quickly swallows his bite. “Sorry, mum.”

That sets you and Oscar off into another round of laughter. Even Leo gets in on the action, letting out a little bark from where he’s curled up nearby. Charles watches the scene with fondness.

“See, you’re already fitting right in,” he says warmly once the laughter subsides. “My two idiot sons.”

Ollie opens his mouth to retort but you cut him off, leaning across the table to affectionately pat his hand.

“Don’t listen to your father, Ollie. We’re happy to have you both here.” You shoot Oscar a wink. “Even if you did get adopted under … unusual circumstances.”

“You can say that again,” Oscar mutters, but he’s smiling.

Over the course of the evening, you take great delight in watching Charles easily slip into the role of devoted dad. He makes terrible jokes and embarrassing comments at every turn, clearly intent on annoying his new children as much as humanly possible. Yet it’s impossible to miss the deep well of affection beneath his teasing words and actions.

For their part, Oscar and Ollie play along enthusiastically. They roll their eyes and groan as if put-upon, but you can see the sparkle of happiness and contentment in their eyes as the night wears on. An easy camaraderie develops between the trio, fueled by plenty of back-and-forth needling and good-natured ribbing.

You sit back and watch it all with a permanent smile etched on your face. Your strange little family just keeps growing, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

At one point, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. When you return, the three of them have their heads bent together conspiratorially, hastily falling silent when you reappear.

“What’s this?” You raise an eyebrow as you retake your seat. “Am I being left out of the loop here?”

Oscar shares a look with Charles before turning to you with a sly grin. “We were just thinking ...”

“This family isn’t quite complete yet,” Ollie picks up easily.

You glance between them, utterly perplexed. “What are you two on about?”

Rather than answer, Charles pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. A few moments later, your own phone buzzes with a Twitter notification — a new tweet from your husband.

Your jaw drops as you read the words over and over. “Charles! You can’t be serious!”

“Why not?” He shoots you an impish grin, clearly reveling in your stunned reaction. “Kimi’s a good kid, he’d make an excellent addition to the family.”

“I … you ...” You sputter, completely at a loss for words.

Oscar and Ollie watch the exchange with matching looks of unrestrained glee. Ollie raises his glass in a mock toast.

“To Mum and Dad, the most extra parents on the grid!”

You shake your head in bewildered amusement as they all crack up. This family just gets more ridiculous by the day.

A short while later, Kimi responds to Charles’ tweet.

The notification sets off another round of laughter and delighted hollering from the three drivers. You hide your face in your hands, torn between mortification and hysterical giggles.

“I can’t take you three anywhere,” you mutter, though you’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

A warm arm wraps around your shoulders as Charles leans over to press a smiling kiss to your temple. “But you love us anyway.”

You catch his gaze, momentarily speechless by the contentment shining in his eyes. For all the silliness and absurdity, it’s clear just how much this strange little family truly means to him.

Swallowing past the sudden lump in your throat, you reach up to cup his cheek tenderly. “More than you’ll ever know.”

He beams at you, pure adoration written across his features. Then the moment is broken as an Italian-accented voice rings out from the hallway.

“Hey, did someone call for a new son?”

Oscar, Ollie, and Charles practically tumble over each other in their haste to greet the newcomer. You hang back, taking a moment to catch your breath as you watch the now quartet bound back onto the balcony, a fresh wave of chaos and noise in their wake.

One thing’s for certain — life is never going to be boring with this group around. You shake your head with a soft chuckle, heading back to join your one-of-a-kind family.

[amiableness]

Kiss and Makeup Up

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: James ruins reader’s date and attempts to make it better.

Word Count: 2829

Warnings: Jealous!James; kissing; and reader wearing heels, jewelry and makeup.

A/N 💌: A quick James oneshot that’s been on my mind, but I’m heavily consider making a second part to this.

As usual, thank you to @moonpascal for reading!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Go on, kiss and make up!” Sirius' voice trails after you as you hurry down the corridor, James close on your heels. On any other day, you might have tossed a playful jab back at Sirius, well-accustomed to his relentless teasing about you and James. But today, the weight of everything made your throat tighten, leaving you silent, your focus fixed on reaching the safety of your dorm.

The sharp click of your heels echoed off the stone walls, and James' muttering about your surprising speed in heels barely registers. Your anger simmers, blocking out his words as you storm ahead and shove the door open. James is right behind you, catching it just before it could slam shut in his face, determined not to let you shut him out.

“Get out, Jamie.” Though your voice was laced with anger, the way you used his nickname gave him a glimmer of hope. It wasn’t hopeless—there was still a chance to make everything better.

“I’m not leaving until we figure this out.” James says, stepping forward and leaning against the post of Lily's bed as he watches you roll your eyes and turn into the room. He doesn’t say anything as you begin furiously grabbing clothes and scattered heels off the floor—remnants of you getting ready for a date, now tainted by the tension hanging between you two.

“There’s nothing to figure out! You ruined my date, plain and simple.” You spin around, clutching a black heel in your hand, and for a fleeting moment, James braces himself, half-expecting you to launch it at him in a fit of frustration. But it’s you, his sweet best friend—the one who cares so deeply for others that you always put them before yourself. It’s a trait that drives James a little crazy sometimes, knowing you’d sacrifice your own happiness without a second thought.

The realization only sharpens the sting of your anger, an unfamiliar weight he’s not used to carrying. He can recall times you’ve been disappointed—maybe after one of his careless pranks or his thoughtless disregard for someone’s feelings—but never this. Never this level of anger.

“I said I was sorry.” He tries, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you scoff and turn away, angrily kicking off your heels. You bend down to pick them up, and despite himself, his eyes drift to the curve of your body. He knows he shouldn’t be looking, but he can’t help it—he’s never been able to take his eyes off you. And now, a bitter feeling twists in his gut, knowing you're dressed all pretty for someone else.

“You're not, though. Why the fuck did you feel the need to scare him off?” You toss the heels into your trunk and turn to face him, arms crossed. He opens his mouth to respond, but the words die before they form—because he doesn’t know how to tell you the truth. He knows exactly why, but admitting it out loud would change everything between you. And he’s not sure he’s ready for that.

The silence between you stretches, heavy and unspoken, as you wait for an answer he isn’t ready to give. You both know exactly what you're waiting for—a proper explanation.

One you’ve been holding out hope for, quietly, for years.

“It's not fair, you know.” You let out a deep sigh, turning to face your desk, your gaze falling on the mirror. James watches as you begin to remove your jewelry, your back turned to him, but his reflection still catches glimpses of you. The anger in your voice has softened, but he knows that if he says the wrong thing, it could all flare up again, as sharp and sudden as before.

“What isn't?” He hesitates, watching you carefully as he takes a cautious step forward. His eyes follow the way your lips part in the mirror, the soft exhale of frustration escaping you as you fumble with your necklace.

He wants to step forward, to gently brush your hair aside and unfasten the clasp, to press a soft kiss against the back of your neck once the necklace slips away. But he can’t—so he remains still, trapped in silence, as he watches you instead.

“Why is it that you go out with girl after girl, but when I show interest in a guy, you scare him off?” You already knew the answer—weren’t blind to it. It had been clear to everyone that you and James had been circling each other for years, dancing around unspoken words.

But he refused to admit that he cared for you as more than friends. It felt pointless to tell him how you felt when it was clear James was intent on keeping you in the friend zone.

From the moment crushes became a part of your life, James had been yours. But you were never certain about his feelings—until that one night when he got blackout drunk and confessed he was in love with you. He has no memory of that drunken night, but you overheard him later, telling the boys he’d never drink that much again because he wanted to actually remember the parties he went to. You’d felt a pang of disappointment, but you were gathering the courage to confront him about it. Then, the next day, he hooked up with a girl from Ravenclaw, and just like that, all your resolve crumbled, leaving you feeling more invisible than ever.

He didn’t remember what he’d said, and if he was out with other girls, it was clear he didn’t care enough to mention it while sober.

That was a year ago, and you still hadn’t brought it up. 

So, to cope with the mess of it all, you went on a date—a rare one, the first in nearly a year. And now, here was James, wrecking it all over again.

“I—” He stops himself, clearing his throat, the tension in his voice betraying the lie before he even finishes. “I don’t think that’s true. You go out on dates.”

He knew he spent a lot of time flirting with girls—whether it was during class, when he should have been paying attention, or at parties where conversation flowed too easily. But when someone showed interest in you? That was a different story altogether. He’d like to blame it on the fact that you were his best friend, but deep down, he knew better. He was protective of you because he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone looking at you the way he did. Was it selfish? Definitely. But the thought of losing you terrified him more than anything.

“You know that’s a lie. You saw how excited I was! Why did you take that from me?” You were fully aware of how weak and accusatory your voice sounded, but you didn’t care. You were hurt, and it was clear in the way you shook your head, disappointment heavy in every movement. James watched your reflection, noticing the way you swallowed hard as if trying to shove down the swell of emotions threatening to break free. And with that, a wave of guilt slammed into his stomach, settling there like a stone.

“I just didn't want him to hurt you!” 

"So you decided to take that off his hands and hurt me instead?" You scoffed, making James flinched as if you had slapped him. It probably would have hurt less if you had.

“Merlin, no! Sweetheart, that wasn't what I was trying to do—”

“Then what were you trying to do, James? Because I'm getting tired of this little game, we have going on.” 

He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes following your hand as you gently remove one of your earrings. For a moment, your gazes meet through the mirror, and the weight of it all presses down on him. He wishes, desperately, that you would just turn around and face him.

He was racking his brain, searching for the right words, trying to find a way to fix this. He considered stepping back, giving you space like he did when you got agitated with him. But this felt different. It wasn’t just about a moment of frustration—it was something deeper, something that could damage your friendship permanently if he didn’t speak up. He knew he had to fix this.

“You guys make up yet?” Sirius hollered, and James could practically picture him standing at the  bottom of the stairs with his hands cupped around his mouth as he shouted at the both of you.

Sirius' words from earlier echoed in his head as if they were taunting him, swirling around like a cruel mantra. 

Go on, kiss and make up.

It felt like an accusation, a reminder of how much he’d messed up. He could feel the weight of it pressing down on him, twisting in his gut. Every nerve in his body screamed that his next move would either make everything worse—digging the hole even deeper—or finally give him a chance to tell you why he’d ruined your date. But the fear of losing you pushed him forward.

“Tell me to stop, sweetheart.”

“Stop what—?” You ask, tossing your last piece of jewelry into the ceramic dish with a sharp clang before turning to face James. Your breath catching in your throat as he moves closer, and without thinking, you instinctively take a step back, bumping into your desk. The sudden movement rattles the items on top, sending a soft, anxious clatter through the room.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips as James reaches out, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb grazing the edge of your jaw. You stare up at him, wide-eyed, and James can’t help but think how pretty you look—more than he’s ever allowed himself to admit. 

He’s never been able to admire you like this before, not without the constant fear of you catching him.

His hands are shaky, and his proximity to you is making him nervous in a way that he couldn’t quite shake. But he didn’t know how else to explain himself. So, tentatively, he let his fingers graze your skin, admiring how you melted into him. He watches, heart pounding, as your lashes flutter and your lips part in surprise at the softness of his touch. The anger in your eyes had faded, leaving behind disbelief and something that looked dangerously close to hope.

He startles both himself and you when the words slip out, low and raw: “You make me so fucking nervous.” You blink up at him, silent, processing the confession. His gaze drifts over the mascara you’d carefully applied, the gloss glistening on your lips—details he hadn’t noticed before, but now felt like a punch to his gut. The jealousy flares, burning hot and fast in the pit of his stomach. It was devastating to realize you were all dressed up, and it wasn’t for him. Those heels, those glossed lips—they were for a guy who hardly knew you. 

Not like James knew you.

You part your lips, and James unknowingly silences you with a gentle brush of his thumb just beneath your lower lip. A soft, satisfied smile tugs at his mouth as he hears the gasp escape you. His hand rests on your left hip, pulling you closer, grounding you against him. The tension in the room thickens, and just like that, your anger has melted.

“If you want me to stop, just say the word, sweetheart.” He murmurs, his voice low and thick with intention as he edged closer. His fingers caressing your jaw, tilting your face upwards, bringing you within a breath of him. The air between you crackles, heavy and charged, and you feel the pull—the tempting, intoxicating proximity. He was so close now, you could feel the warmth of his breath, and all it would take was the slightest movement for his lips to claim yours.

You thought about saying it—the words were right there, just on the tip of your tongue. But then his lips brushed against yours just barely, and everything else faded away. You couldn’t bring yourself to say no—not when this was something you’d wanted for years. Even with the anger simmering inside you, the frustration over James ruining your date, you couldn’t pull away.

Not now. Not when he was so close.

If anything, a strange sense of relief was starting to wash over you—relief that he had ruined it. Because if he hadn’t, it might have been another guy standing where he was now, and the thought of that made something tighten painfully in your chest.

“Last chance.” He mumbled, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, searching for any sign that you might stop him. The only sound between you was the uneven rhythm of your breaths, erratic and heavy, pulsing with the desire that surged between you both. When you didn’t say a thing, no rejection, no hesitation—only the warmth of your breath mingling with his—he offered a barely-there smile before leaning in, his lips finally capturing yours with a slow, gentle kiss.

He started slow, cautious, as if afraid he might push you away. But the wrecked hum that escaped your throat—the sound of pure desire—told him everything he needed to know. You wanted this as much as he did.

It was overwhelming how quickly the kiss shifted—what started as sweet and searching, quickly turned frantic and hungry. The slow, deliberate pace gave way to a fiery urgency. The gentle brush of lips became a desperate meeting of mouths as the two of you gave into years of pining.

Your hands, which had been gripping the edge of the desk hard, moved slowly toward him. You let your fingers trail up his stomach, feeling the dips and ridges before reaching his chest. Your other hand found its way into his curls, you tugged softly, the motion pulling a low, pleasure-filled groan from deep within him. That sound, the sound of him unraveling, seemed to shatter something inside James. In an instant, he stepped closer—if that was even possible—until your bodies were pressed together, the heat between you two undeniable, consuming.

He pulled away just an inch, and the desperate whine that escaped your lips was enough to pull him back in, his arms circling your waist before effortlessly lifting you onto the desk. You gasped his name, the sound caught in your throat, as his lips claimed yours again, urgent and hungry. One hand slid around your thigh, pulling you closer, the heat of his body pressing against yours as he stood between your parted legs. His grip on your hip was firm, grounding, while his other hand found its place at the side of your throat, fingers warm and possessive.

You had never been kissed like this before. It was overwhelming—an all-consuming heat that ignited deep in your belly as James kissed you with a hunger, as if he'd been waiting for this moment his entire life.

And it was ruining you, because if this was how it felt to kiss James Potter, you never wanted to be kissed by anyone else ever again.

He rocked his hips against yours, the pressure making you gasp, and that breathless sound was all he needed. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, tasting you as if he couldn’t get enough. You were so completely immersed in him—the feel of his lips, the taste of him—that the low, teasing whistle from your doorway barely registered in your mind.

“Bloody hell, I didn’t expect you to actually go and kiss her.” Sirius’ voice rang out, loud and unfiltered. The words struck a panic through you, your body warming with embarrassment as you instinctively tucked your head into James’ chest, hoping to hide from the intrusion. You would recognize Sirius’ voice anywhere, and you knew you would be teased about this for ages.

James, with you still propped on the desk, remained a shield, his body pressed protectively against yours. He glanced over at Sirius and Remus, who stood by the doorway. Sirius, leaning against the doorframe, raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, while Remus stood next to him, his usually calm demeanor showing signs of awkwardness.

“Fuck off and shut the door, mate.” James groans, his arms pulling you tighter as he fights the urge to hurl a book at Sirius and Remus. Instead, he sends them a warning glare and brings a hand up to the back of your head, the heat of the moment still burning between you, and silently dares them to say anything more.

The boys hesitate, but not before Sirius calls out with a teasing smirk, “Didn’t know you had it in you, Potter. You finally got your girl.” And just like that, the door slams shut, leaving the air thick with tension and you cringing in embarrassment.

Maybe telling him you loved him wasn’t that pointless after all.

please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write and spread my work! 🤍

[hungharrington]

a little less conversation, a little more action, please

[rings bell frantically] CALLING ALL PPL WHO HAD BAD SEX EXPERIENCES!!! if that’s you, this is for u :D ! this has been in the drafts 4 months and i’m excited to set it free! enjoy! 8k words, fem!reader, oral (f receiving) MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+

You think you might be the only person your age in the whole of Hawkins who doesn’t seem to get the hype.

Couples have been caught all over in the act. At the drive-in cinema, in the back of the cinema, hell, even beneath the bleachers at school — tongues down each other's throats and pants around their ankles, so caught up in each other that they don’t care about consequences. That it’s that good, that it’s worth the risk. 

Sex. 

You just don’t get it.

Once upon a time, one boyfriend ago, before you’d ever experienced it, there had been an inkling of eagerness within you. Curiosity twined in with piqued interest, you wondered eagerly about when you’d find someone who’d show you all about why sex got its reputation. 

And then you had it— with Samuel Cosgrove in his twin bed when his parents were out of town, 3 weeks into dating him. Your expectations crumbled. 

You decided quickly that everyone must be lying if that was what you were supposed to be looking forward to. It wasn’t… sexy. You didn’t feel sexy having it either.

It only left you feeling somewhat awkward and a bit foolish, with Samuel trying to ruck your shirt up even though you had asked to keep it on. Embarrassment crept in easily at how you seemed to be half a step behind him the whole time, not quite warmed up, not quite sure if this was the mood, not quite ready to take all your clothes off. 

The springs on his bed were loud and squeaked with every shift of weight. The whole thing sort of hurt more than anything.

You chalked it up to the first time, dredging together your hopes even as they rapidly deflated inside you, cemented by Samuel’s sloppy kiss that missed your mouth and landed wetly on the corner of your lips when he finished. 

His sweat stuck to your skin and you didn’t feel sexy, or good, or relieved or anything else the dozen Cosmo magazines under your bed promised you would. 

Next time, you said to yourself. You had even confided in your close friend, admitting to the underwhelming experience, and asked quite plainly when it ‘got good’. 

“The first time always sucks!” She’d assured you, her voice a hushed whisper over the diner table.“Trust me, the first, like, three times totally suck.” 

You didn’t mean to but, subconsciously, three became the number to reach— get through the first three terrible times, and… all would be peachy in paradise. 

And so when the next time was… underwhelming, you weren’t exactly surprised. Worse, was how it wasn’t anything Samuel did but what he said that stuck with you long after he’d drifted off on your sheets. Lying in the cradle of your hips, Samuel had traced his hand up your legs and then frowned, yanking his hand back. You had startled, propping up quickly to ask him what it was. 

“You’re spiky,” he said, chuckling in a mean way. You could feel your chest ache pathetically at his words and you instinctively tried to curl your legs in, wanting to hide them away. So what if they were? It was the middle of winter and he’d surprised you, showing up at your window to sneak in. 

When the fourth time happened and disappointment weighed heavy on you again, you deduced the truth. Sex was some big scam- some stupid joke that everyone was in on and just pretending to enjoy. 

It was easier to blame sex if only so you didn’t blame yourself. But… it niggles in the back of your brain, a line-up of indisputable facts that all point to the same thing. That, maybe sex isn’t the problem — but you are. 

And, look, it’s not really a problem when you’re not dating or seeing anyone.

… Enter Steve Harrington.

Admittedly, Steve was not someone you thought you would ever date. Or maybe it was the other way around, that you thought that Steve would ever date you.

His reputation as a bit of a player was as far from something you were interested in, especially considering your feelings towards sex, but… he had sort of proven you wrong every chance possible.

One month of dates and it’s been no more than holding hands and kisses on cheeks. You’ve kissed him properly, of course, once or twice, but lest you give him the wrong idea, they hadn’t been much more than a quick kiss. Steve still seemed to glow afterward, no matter what. 

It made you feel good. Safe. Warmed you to know he was happy with whatever affection you felt ready to bestow, and never pushed for more. 

You could tell he wanted it. It was hidden in the flex of his fingers and even the not-so-subtle adjusting of his pants when he’d invited you over for a dip in his pool. You’d shown up in your bathing suit— and it was the most amount of skin Steve had ever seen from you and it did not go underappreciated. He had been touchy, hands skirting up your sides, but still respectful. 

And strangely enough, you find yourself… wanting it too. 

Wanting for his touch, thinking about letting your own hands wander across his skin to find what makes him sigh, makes him groan in pleasure, what might make him whine. It surprises you, the ferocity of your eagerness, how it presses your thighs together tightly and licks pure arousal up your spine — even when Steve’s not even trying. 

(He was, you just didn’t know it. Steve knows exactly when girls seem to be looking at his arms and he’s unashamed to say he will flex his muscles and pretend he hasn’t. Robin has caught him doing this several times.) 

And today has been nothing short of wonderful. 

A balmy Saturday which you found yourself swept up in Steve’s company over at his house, laziness fuelled by the golden sun rays of the day. 

You weren’t even doing anything in particular, just enjoying being near each other. You had stretched out on a pool lounger with a book in your hand for the most part and it was with giddy delight that Steve seemed more than chuffed to just lay beside you, sizzling in the sun and then occasionally cooling off in the pool. 

Which is a spectacle all in itself. 

The sight of his chest gives you one or two steamy ideas, especially as it drips with water when he pushes up on the edge of the pool. His biceps bulge deliciously as you peer over the edge of your book, not as subtlety as you might think. You honestly don’t even mind if he catches you staring, not when this is your view. 

Your eyes trace the sparkling drops of water as they roll down his chest tantalizingly slow, through the chest hair between his pecs, down, down, trailing down his happy trail— fuck, okay, he totally caught you staring. 

Your eyes dart back up to his face to find Steve’s already looking at you, his eyes holding a playful mirth to them. His smile looks just a little bit cheeky. Bastard. 

Water splatters on the tiles where he walks as he pads over to collect his towel bunched on the end of the lounger beside your own.

“Good book?” He asks sweetly.

He says it as he scrubs the towel over his face, drying it off and then starting on his hair— he gives it a quick rub over rapidly so that when he pulls the towel away, his hair is sticking up in every direction. He holds the towel to his chest and gives his head a quick shake, like a dog, shaking out the extra water.

When he looks up at you again, beginning to towel dry his bare chest, you realise you haven’t even attempted to answer his question. 

“Book.” You echo. Steve chuckles a little bit and it kickstarts your embarrassment, finally remembering to say something else. You hold the book up to gesture with it, “Yes! It’s good, it’s…” 

Steve’s resumed drying himself and you find your words leaving you as the towel drags down his tummy, leading your eyes with it. Your mouth feels suspiciously dry. Want. You want him.

“It’s…?” 

He’s teasing you again. You startle, wondering if he’s purposefully trying to put on a sensual towel-drying show for you. You’re surprised to find you’re actually glad that he is. 

It feels like another subtle way to affirm all his affections for you without all of the touchiness you’ve yet to reach with him — come and get me, it’s like he’s saying, if you want. 

You snap your book shut. “It’s too hot to be reading, I think.” 

Steve frowns in his worry and steps forward, closer to you. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead lightly. “You feelin’ too warm? Y’gotta careful being out here too long if you aren’t gonna swim.” 

He sounds on the concerned side but there’s a touch of cheek in his voice too, like he knows why you haven’t turned the page for the last 5 minutes. It stokes the firey feeling that’s beginning to burn in your gut. A smile curls at your lips and you huff a little laugh, leaning back and batting his hand away from your forehead. 

“Yes, mom.” You jest, hand falling back onto the lounger. You lean back onto it to get a better view of him. “I’m not too hot.” 

Steve grins. “Oh, I would say the opposite. You are, in fact,” He leans in closer, one hand coming up to push some hair behind your ear. His hand lingers, fingertips on the edge of your jaw. “Very hot.” 

You couldn’t stop your reaction if you tried— which you do try, some sputtering cough with a duck of your head as you feel your body flush hotly at his words. His forwardness is something you’re still getting used to.

Just as you’re about to stumble through a poorly constructed sentence, Steve saves you— reaching over to grab his rumpled t-shirt and pulling it over his head. A small, disappointed, part of you wilts. You catch yourself from being so obvious, scooping up your bookmark and stuffing it in a random page. 

Steve offers his hand out for you to take. “C’mon, we both need some water I think.” 

You ponder if there’s a second meaning to his words as you trail along beside him, letting him lead you back through the sliding glass doors that open to the kitchen with your intertwined hands. Steve gives your hand a quick squeeze before he drops it to open the fridge, peering inside. You lean back against the counter, arms folding loosely over your front and allow yourself to look at him. 

Your boyfriend. It sounds even a bit strange in your head and you know if you tried to say it aloud, it would get caught on the way out, tripping over your teeth. Calling him your boyfriend cements all those expectations you worry so much about… even though, not-so-secretly, you revel in the fact thats he’s your boyfriend. 

“Thinking hard over there, I can see,” Steve comments teasingly and you blink, realising he’s already looking at you. He must have asked you a question and you missed it. 

“What?” 

Steve laughs a bit, pink lips pulled into a slight smirk. He shakes the bottle in his hands a little bit, bringing your attention to it. “Did you want to try some of this? I think it’s sparkling and…” 

He trails off, pulling the bottle closer to his face to scan over the front of it. You can’t help but think the furrow in his brows as he reads is adorable. He hums, obviously not finding what he’s after, and flips the bottle over. 

“…raspberry flavour?” He finishes, looking up at you, brows raised. He gives a little shrug. “That sound nice?” 

You think about it for a moment and then shake your head. Steve laughs in agreement and places ii back in the fridge, some mumble about his mom leaving it here the last time she visited home. He turns back to the fridge still rummaging. “Okay, anything in particular you want?” 

You are thirsty but… your stomach swoops as you realise it’s for something else altogether. If you want it though, you’ll have to ask. 

“Maybe, a kiss?” 

Steve freezes for an instant, then he whips around like he’s not entirely sure he’s heard correctly. The fridge door clatters loudly and he quickly grabs it, stopping the rattling bottles and looking mighty flushed when he shoots you a grin. 

“A kiss?” He checks. He lets go of the fridge doors to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, too aware of his own unsubtle eagerness. “I heard that right, didn’t I?” 

A nervous chuckle scrapes out your throat but you nod. You uncross your arms but can’t settle them, crossing them again nervously as Steve comes closer. His brown eyes scan your face intently, searching to make sure he’s getting every signal right. 

When you smile assuredly, Steve sighs in relief and his shoulders drop an inch. He smiles too, his hand reaching up to hold your faces cupping your cheek. His strokes across your cheekbone as he talks. “Oh, thank god. I was beginning to think, maybe, you just weren’t into kissing me.” 

Then he leans in— and you hold your breath without meaning to. 

The thing is, Steve is a good kisser. A very very good kisser and even your strange gaspy noise as you try to remember to breathe is not enough to ruin the kiss. His plush lips capture yours and have you feeling as hot as the day, a heat blooming in your chest and spreading like wildfire. Your fingers flex at your sides. 

You push up on your toes without even thinking, to steal more of his touch, and when Steve breaks the kiss, you’re embarrassed to find yourself chasing his lips. You clear your throat and avert your eyes, sinking back down— embarrassed at showing how much you’d melted under a single kiss. 

You just don’t realise how it looks to Steve. 

“You do… right?” 

Your head pops up, eyes widening as you try to comprehend his question. 

“Like… kissing you?” You ask meekly, more embarrassed that he’s asking for confirmation. Embarrassed that you’d somehow been overly eager and also convinced him of the opposite in one kiss. God, maybe there is something wrong with you. 

“Yeah.” Steve nods, pulling back a little further from you— like he needs physical space in case you say something absurd like ‘no.’ 

Your hands react faster than your mind, reaching to grab his shoulders to stop him from putting space between you. 

“Yes!” You say loudly. You try to rein in your embarrassment for his sake, swallowing your nerves which feel thick and swollen in your throat. “Yes, I like kissing you. It’s just, I’m… I’m worried.” 

How do you say this? How can you explain that you’ve been so afraid of your kisses going a few steps further because then- then when things get heated and Steve’s expecting things, you have to explain that — that what? 

That you’re not really sure if you even like sex, or maybe that it just doesn’t seem to work for you or — or that there’s probably just something wrong with you that means you can’t figure out how the hell to relax and enjoy sex- and that it’s not his fault but probably totally yours but— 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Steve cuts into your spiralling thoughts, having seen the dilemma spilled across your face. “Stop thinking what you’re thinking and just, like, take a breather.” 

He places his hand on his chest and mimes a deep inhale. You copy him without thinking, chest rising and falling in sync with his, unable to look at him for a moment. When you find the courage to dredge your eyes up to his face, his eyes are soft and his brows have knitted together in concern. 

“Good.” He praises, hand falling off his chest to rub gently at your arm. “Okay, now instead of doing all that worrying up there just… tell me what’s worrying you. Please?” 

Part of you want to huff and hide, to make him really pry so you know that he means it. It’s dramatic, you know — especially because he’s being so good at communicating. He’s asked outright. You try to put the words in the correct order. 

“Just… we haven’t— I haven’t kissed you a lot because I’m worried about what it might lead to.” You say quietly, eyes back to avoiding his gaze. You stare at his chest, the tuft of chest hair peeking out, and do your best to swallow the knot in your throat. 

“And I— I don’t want to disappoint you,” you admit, frustrated at how a familiar sting burns at the back of your eyes. “But I- just, in the times I’ve gone that far and— and slept with someone, I didn’t… I just didn’t like it. I didn’t enjoy it.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut tight, proclamation out in the open, and try to take a deep breath— just like Steve had instructed mere moments ago. Courage gathered, you open your eyes and peer up at him again. 

“Oh,” Steve breathes. You can nearly see the cogs turning in his head, his eyebrows twitching as he takes in what you’ve said and what it means for the two of you. “Oh, well that’s okay. I mean, if you didn’t want to I would never—“ 

“—That’s not the thing.” You interrupt. “I want to. I do. I just…” Your voice trails off, taking on a  trembling whisper as you say the thing you’ve yet to say aloud yet, for fear of speaking it into existence. You can’t quite look at him, eyes focused on the kitchen tiles instead. 

“I think it’s me. I think— I’m worried there’s something wrong with me.” 

Your words hang in the air for a moment and Steve feels his worry shift into something deeper, something closer to devastation, as he realises how deeply you believe what you’ve said. 

You genuinely think there is— even thinking it makes him want to scoff aloud. He forces himself to focus on consoling you here and now, instead of riling himself up with thoughts of whatever— whoever lead you to your immense self-doubt. 

“Well, there’s not,” Steve says plainly. Like there’s no room for discussion— his hand drifting down your arm to gather your hands in his own. They get swallowed, his hands huge when compared to your own. 

“There’s nothing wrong— you- you could never disappoint me in that way.” 

Your eyes lift from the ground to his face, desperate to see if you can see the truth in his words. He can tell- fuck, he can already read you so well. 

“Honest,” He insists, giving your hands a quick squeeze. “I promise you, okay? I- if I was disappointed over something like that it would be- that would be such a dick move.” 

“Well, you wouldn’t be the first.” You mutter bitterly. 

The words slip out without entirely meaning to; you aren’t trying to start a pity party but how are you supposed to explain why you think the way you do? How can you explain why you’re so worried about taking it further? Deep down, you know he deserves to know. 

Steve’s eyes widen for a moment, your words sinking in and cutting as they go. He doesn’t want to think about you sleeping with other people, for all the jealous reasons, but mainly because everything he’s learned today is that nobody has taken proper care of you. 

It twists his heart thinking of some fucking idiot not taking his time with you, not getting you comfortable— so that you get to this point, embarrassed, avoiding his eyes, and so entirely convinced that you’re the problem. 

“Look,” Steve says softly. His hands squeeze yours again and he tries to think of how best to say this. “If we never sleep together, I don’t care.” 

That catches your attention, your head jerking up to look at him — what? That has never even been an option with dating someone. Not in your mind, at least. You find yourself reeling, fumbling for words but Steve just keeps talking. 

“If you don’t wanna, I don’t wanna,” Steve shrugs, like that’s all there is to it.

“There’s nothing wrong if it’s not really your thing.” Another squeeze to your hands. You look up at him, aware you must look a picture of bewildered — there were a thousand ways you imagined this conversation going and this was not one of them. 

A smile pulls on his lips as he chuckles a bit, eyes falling to your conjoined hands. “Hell, for all we know I’d add to your disappointing experiences.” 

You laugh quietly but it’s saturated in fondness. He’s taking jabs at himself to make you feel better. 

“Hardly likely, considering the rumours I’ve heard about you,” You murmur lowly. You find it in yourself to squeeze his hands back, peering back up at him. Steve’s brows rise and he grins. 

“Oh? And just what rumours are we talking about?” He teases. 

“Shut up,” You say, no heat behind it in the slightest. Your chest is starting to feel lighter and lighter as the reality of his words sink in. “You know what they say about you.” 

Steve grins wider. “That I slept with Mrs. Click just to pass her class?” 

“What?” You wrinkle your nose at the horrid picture of your old English teacher with your boyfriend. “No! Did people really say that about you?” 

Steve’s grin fades, edging towards jaded. He gives a soft sigh, tilting his head back an inch. “People say everything and it all means nothing unless it’s coming from the right person.” 

He wriggles a hand free from your unaware tightening holding to brush his knuckles against your cheek tenderly. A piece of hair flops over his forehead, curling back upwards, and the buzz of cicadas fills the empty noise around you.

“So, I don’t know if some asshole told you or you just think that you’re wrong, but…” Steve inhales, his eyes darting between yours. 

The brown in them is intense, holding you fixed beneath his heavy gaze. “If— just you said you want to so, we can try and- and we can go slow and I’ll stop the moment you want to, okay? For whatever reason.” 

You feel a strange bubble of hope churn in your gut. It feels too good to be true. 

“…You’re sure?” 

“M’sure,” Steve nods. “Even for something as small as you don’t like the way my dick looks or—“ 

A laugh startles out of you and you shake your head. “I meant more about stopping but good to know anyways.” You pause a moment. “…Should I be worried?” 

You’re teasing. Steve delights in it, his own voice slipping that little bit lower— his knuckles on your cheek swiping across, down your jaw, til he lingers near your neck. 

“Why don’t you find out?” 

The hunger in your tummy returns with a new heat, rivalling the day. You suddenly feel nervous again, a roll of nerves turning over, but this time it feels far closer to anticipation. The kiss you’ve been yearning to give him, hot and messy, burns up inside you and when you rise on your toes, Steve meets you in the middle. 

Your lower back presses against the counter as Steve leans into you, his mouth slotted against yours. One kiss snowballs into another, and another, the fervency growing as you let yourself give into your desire. Your hands on his shoulders shift, trailing down to feel up the chest you’ve been gawking at all day.

Steve lets out a quiet grunt as your nails dig in and his other hand finds your waist, tugging you to press against his body — his other hand slides into your hair, clutching the strands loosely. You sigh into his mouth, nerves still alight beneath your skin but the way they buzz makes you feel good. Steve makes you feel good. 

Right as his hand scrapes along your lower back, heading lower, you’re both startled by the loud beep! that sounds in the kitchen. At the same time you peer around him, Steve turns and gives a sheepish chuckle, seeing the fridge door still ajar from when he’d been fishing around inside. 

He steps away from you, pushing the doors closed gently. Turning back, your chest swells with pride seeing the effect you’re already having on him; red lips, shiny with spit and a faint ruby colour in the apples of his cheeks. Steve smiles, boyish and charming. 

“Do you wanna keep—“ 

“—yes.”

You’re not going to squander this chance, not going to waste the days' chemistry when there’s still that tiny worry niggling in the back of your brain that today is all a fluke. That Steve’s words might just be an offer, something else that wouldn’t be a first for you. 

Steve grins. He holds out his hand and you intertwine yours with him, letting him lead you. Your stomach swoops as he takes you out the kitchen and heads for the stairs, checking back on you with a quick glimpse. You do your best to show him your excitement instead of your nerves. You’re not sure you succeed. 

Squeezing his hand does the trick for a final reassurance. Steve resumes leading you up the stairs, taking a familiar turn towards his bedroom, beginning to talk softly as he does. 

“Remember, anytime, anything you don’t like, just say the word.” 

You both pause, standing in his room and you swallow the doubts that try to claw back up your throat. Giving a sly glance at him, you smile coyly and wiggle your hand out from his. Trailing backwards to his bed, you pretend to think about it, til your thighs hit the edge of the bed. 

“Hmm… well,” You begin, a touch of sultriness dipping into your voice. “I don’t like… that you’re still wearing your shirt.” 

Before you, Steve huffs a silent laugh, that handsome smile gracing his lips as he ducks his head. He doesn’t disappoint though, his arms reaching up behind his head to shuck his shirt off in one fluid motion.

He chucks it aside thoughtlessly and where it lands doesn’t even matter — your eyes are fixed on his chest. His bare chest that you’ve been given permission to properly ogle at. You swear you feel your mouth salivate a bit. 

“Should've known this would go first, considering the way you were drooling outside,” Steve remarks cockily, folding his arms loosely. It makes his biceps bulge and you swallow again, this time nothing to do with nerves. 

“I wasn’t drooling,” You defend weakly, beginning to fidget with the hem of your own shirt. “I was admiring, okay? There’s a difference.” 

Steve saunters over slowly as you talk, steps slow and measured. He’s smirking by the time he’s before you, so close you can feel the heat of him. “Uh huh. Totally, sweetheart, I believe you. Need help with this?” 

His hand has reached out, fingers pinching the same hem you’re fiddling with. You nod slowly, “Yes, please.” 

Steve’s smirk fades into something sweeter and he grabs the hem with two hands, beginning to ruck it up gently, his eyes locked on yours — you raise your arms when it starts to get caught, holding your gaze to his until the fabric intersects. Your arms drop and you push away the urge to wrap them around your middle. 

Steve drops your shirt much more gently than his own but his eyes are still entirely on you. There’s a shine of awe in them now, flicking up at down the newly exposed skin. 

The intensity of his gaze makes you want to shy away but you chose bravery instead, reaching out to grab his side. Steve jumps, barely an inch, and before you even get a chance to question, he’s smiling. “Y’got cold hands, honey.” 

He draws them up to his mouth, laying soft kisses across your knuckles. Heat flushes through you and you melt beneath it, lowering yourself back on the bed. Steve follows eagerly, still kissing at your hands. He kneels between your legs and when he finally drops your hands from his, it’s to reach out and cup your jaw. 

“Keep breathing,” He murmurs quietly, eyes dancing in amusement. You hadn’t even realise you had been holding your breath. You realise it in one big exhale and this time, when you reach for him, you actually succeed in tugging him closer. You tumble backward into his sheets and Steve comes with you, his forearms planted on either side of you and his body pressed up against yours. 

“I don’t like…” You say, continuing the bit from earlier, your voice quiet and still tinged with a poorly hidden nervousness. “That you keep waiting to kiss me.” 

Steve’s brows hike up an inch but his smile hides his surprise easily, his entire face glowing a bit brighter. He looks fucking gorgeous bathed in the buttery sunlight, even though it’s just beginning to fade towards darkness behind the curtains. 

You stare unabashedly up at him, marvelling at his features that are etched in with adoration for you. You follow down the strong line of his nose, along the soft arches in his eyebrows, the faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that he has from smiling. 

You study the swell of his cupids bow perched above his pink lips and each of the moles dotted all over your favourite face— and think to yourself it’s not fucking fair that he looks like this. Like he’s been carved from marble and cast in gold. 

Thank God he’s yours. 

He doesn’t disappoint you — his lips finding yours and kissing you deeply, his chest brushing your own. Your entire body seems to sigh at the touch, tingling with anticipation — you’ve been overdue for all these kisses for far too long and it seems once you’ve gotten started, it feels impossible to stop.

You kiss needily, your hands moving off his midriff to drift up to his jawline. You cradle it gently, your lips a little less gentle- you try to remember how to do this, how to nip at his lips teasingly, how to soothe them with your tongue. 

Slowly, Steve’s body weight lowers onto you as he focuses more and more on figuring out what you seem to like. Time melts like candle wax and you feel as goopy as it too, all warm and pliable, softened by his kisses. Heat begins to simmer in your gut. You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing when Steve pulls away, his mouth cherry red and his face flushed. 

His fingers slip beneath the strap of your bra, toying with it but nothing more. He checks over your face as he asks, “Wanna take this off?” 

You nod, breathlessly. Up til now, it’s been easy to turn off your brain and let all your thoughts revolve around getting kissed absolutely stupid by Steve. 

But as his hands work deftly beneath you, unclipping the strap of your bra and beginning to tug it down, you feel the first worry creep in — this is usually when your panties follow, then his boxers, and then the expectations. Even with all your enjoyment, you know that if he tries now, you won’t be ready. 

Frustration bubbles up in your chest, mingling with your insecurity and you squirm a bit, trying to think of how to tell Steve without disappointing him. 

You’re so sick of disappointing people for something you can’t seem to help. 

Steve notices your squirming. His head shoots up to meet your gaze, a furrow back in his brow. “Hey, hey, what’s goin’ on?” 

“I…” Words die on your tongue easily, a war happening inside your throat as you debate what to say. You like him— you really like him and don’t want this to end and… he told you he wants you to tell the truth. 

“I don’t… I’m not—“ Your whisper climbs in volume alongside your frustration. “Steve, this isn’t working.” 

The wrinkle between his brow deepens and it’s not a comforting sight. Steve shifts a bit, his hand moving from the straps of your bra up to your face. He pushes back a few stray locks of hair, eyes sincere. 

“Not working?” He murmurs, “Baby, we’ve only just started.” 

You blink up at him once, twice. Your mouth opens and then closes again. 

You know that but you also know how this goes. Well, you think you know— so why do you suddenly feel so foolish? 

“Oh.” You say shyly. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and try to ignore feeling like you’ve just ruined the mood. 

Steve takes it all in his stride, nothing but a twitch in his furrows brows as he takes in your embarrassed expression. He leans down, and kisses your neck, then your collarbone. His lips trail down, down, slow and sensual. Your bra scraps down your arms, tossed aside absentmindedly.

“Sweet girl,” he whispers into your skin. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Sorry?” You echo, a bit breathier as Steve's kisses scrape down your breast. Your nipples peak to attention.

“Mhm,” he hums, his lips wrapping around your nipple and sucking— his hands paw greedily at your back which arches eagerly into his kisses. Steve drags his mouth off, beginning to mouth softly down your breast til his plush lips kiss at your sternum. 

“M’sorry that nobody has ever taken care of you before.”

You squirm beneath him at his words, a warm flush washing through your body as desire spins up inside you. Steve continues as if he hasn’t turned your whole view inside-out— his hand shifting up to thumb at your nipple as he takes your nipple back between his lips. 

“Steve…” you sigh out. 

He’s kneading your body in just the right way, the sensitivity of your chest fuelling the pool of heat growing deep in your stomach. You feel your thighs clench together, hips shifting up instinctively. You haven’t been touched like this before and fuck, it’s a lot. 

“I know, honey.” He says lowly, voice muffled against your skin. He suckles at your nipple and just nips at it, a flash of teeth, enough to make you arch further. Your eyes slip shut and you push your chest further out. 

To your disappointment, Steve pulls back instead. Your eyes open, neck craning to look at him, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths.

“Y’tell me if there’s anything you don’t like, alright?” 

Somehow, the heat in your gut flares that much hotter — knowing that there’s love behind every motion. You scramble for threads of courage and hold them tightly. Then you bend your legs until you can slide them around his waist, ankles crossing and tugging him closer. His cock, straining in his pants, presses flush against your core, and at the same time you inhale, Steve stutters out a groan.��

“I’ll tell you.” You say, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to hold back your grin. It melts away as Steve shifts against you purposefully, one of his hands dropping to hold your hip. The hard length of him grinds against your cunt, catching the angle of your clit in a way that makes you mewl beneath him. 

Steve kisses your breast again but your hands are already reaching for him— fingers cupping his jaw to tug him up. Your lips capture his and this time, when he rolls his hips into yours, the soft noise you make is swallowed in his kiss. It’s fervent, your kisses gaining speed and mess. You tighten your ankles and experiment with your grind and are rewarded with a jagged moan from Steve. 

Faintly, you consider how it makes a little more sense now. That all those desperate motions of making out, rutting against each other, hot open-mouth kisses— fuck, if it was always like this, you get it. You feel like you’re on fire. 

A breeze flutters the curtains across the room, the only indication of time outside your little bubble. It’s far too easy to get lost in the motions— building up your lust until you’re sure the cotton between your legs is soaked through. It feels silly but god, even though you knew this was one of the things making all those past times so terrible, you had just assumed that’s how it would always be. 

The stickiness feels vulgar, your cunt pulsating with heat like you’ve never felt before. It just makes it all feel better though— the warm, hard heat of Steve’s cock, fitting snug between your folds. 

A pause in the makeout to catch your breath. You’re huffing wildly and Steve takes the moment of his undistracted attention to focus on the shorts you’re wearing. He doesn’t ask verbally this time but as he hooks his fingers beneath the waistband, his eyes flash up to yours in question. 

You wiggle your hips and Steve takes his cue, the fabric scraping against your skin as it slides down, down, down. To your surprise, Steve goes with them. He gets halfway down the bed, his head aligned with your belly, hands kneading at the flesh of your boobs before he halts. 

“I wanna try something,” He says, looking up at you. He dots a quick kiss onto your skin as he does, not breaking eye contact. “And I think you’re gonna really love it.” 

He drags out the word really, his voice low enough that it rumbles, nearly a purr. 

“It involves a little bit of this.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss into your navel. He kisses nice and slow, the plushness of his lips scraping across the stretch of skin. 

You shiver a little, feeling how your thighs part instinctively and Steve smiles wickedly, seeing the motion. 

“A little—“ He travels further down, his hands sliding to hold the outside of your thighs. He grips the skin and urges it to spread wider— then takes a greedy fat lick along your inner thigh. “—of this.” 

You squirm. It’s unnerving in the best way, having someone so dedicated to making you feel good— but Steve’s face betrays no hint of insincerity. In fact, if you had to guess, you’d say he even looks excited. 

His large tan hands cover your hips, slender fingers curved atop your thighs to keep them pried open. You’re expecting the next question to be getting the final scrap of clothing off you— a mixture of nerves and excitement at the vulnerability that comes with taking them off. 

He doesn’t though. Drawing a line with the tip of his nose, he nuzzles down from the inside of your knee to your thigh, the warmth of his breath fanning across sensitive skin. He kisses your cunt, once, soft. You twitch, a sweet noise pushing past your lips. 

Steve does it again. This time, his lips part and you feel his tongue press through the soaked cotton of your panties — he kisses again, harder, moving over your clit with his tongue. This time you moan and feel your hips tip up to chase his mouth, surprising yourself. 

Fuck, when have you ever been this wet before? The cotton between your legs is sticky and it only gets messier with Steve’s every lick. The duvet crinkles beneath you as you sigh and sink into it, the low throb of pleasure curling up in your gut. 

“Steve,” you sigh his name like it’s a prayer. 

He hums against your core, his fingers gliding beneath the elastic of your panties but not pulling them down just yet. His hot mouth drops lower, his nose pressing into you at the perfect angle. Your breathy exhale is lilted with moans. 

“See?” He murmurs, so low you nearly don’t hear him. 

“S’Nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Y’just needed…“ His fingers grip your panties and begin to pull and you aid him quickly with a lift of your hips. “…someone to take a little more care with you.” 

Any fear of vulnerability is whirled far away; you need his mouth back on you, like, yesterday. Especially when Steve groans. Like the sight of your glistening cunt is enough to make his cock ache. Your tummy heats further at the thought. 

His hands re-situate, soothing up to your tummy before sliding back down to grasp the tops of your thighs again. He pulls them open wider. 

Pure fire streaks through your nerves, a sweltering pleasurable burn twisting in your gut as Steve’s tongue licks through your folds in one bold stroke. Your hips try to twitch forward but his hands are already there, holding them down. 

There’s one more pause, one soft curse of adoration, as his nose nuzzles along the soft skin of your inner thigh. You feel unbearably warm in his sheets, heat pulsating and dancing beneath your skin. 

“Steve,” you whisper his name again, urging him gently. “Please.” 

“I got you,” He murmurs in response.  “You don’t gotta say please with me,” He hums lowly, then kisses right on your clit, languid and warm, his tongue swirling around it deftly. You cry out softly. 

He drags his mouth off you and if you looked down, you’d see the soft sheen of your slick on his rosy lips. “I wanna give you everything you want.” 

You gasp as he finally puts his mouth on you properly, pleasure dribbling through your core as he suckles on your clit. He’s killer with his tongue, twisting it and flattening it against your bud in a way that has you squirming. The sheets scrunch in your frenzied grip. 

For the first time, you understand why pornos even sound like that— taking a moment to realise the whiney gaspy noise you’re hearing is coming from you. 

“Oh god,” You whine prettily. “That’s— uh— fuck, that’s really good.” 

Between your thighs, you hear and feel the moan Steve gives back. Your thighs are twitching, torn between trying to keep them apart or warm your boyfriend's ears. Your hips are moving, subtle grinds up into Steve’s face and he takes it all appreciatively. He sucks and slurps, tongue dragging down your folds to toy at your clenching hole— making you squeal. 

“Fuck,” he rasps, pulling back for a moment. His voice is doused in arousal. “You’re so wet.” 

Heat plumes low in your tummy as he dives back in, a groan echoing from his throat. The coil in your gut tightens, winding tighter and tighter. Your chest heaves as your voice melts away until everything you say is a whimpery little “yes, yes, yes,” and Steve’s name. 

His huge hands are still pressing your thighs apart but one shifts suddenly, barely noticeable in your mounting euphoria, until it’s tapping at your hand fisted in the sheets. 

You lift your head, confused, and peer down at him. 

It’s a mistake. His hand is resting on the bed in front of your own, propped up and fingers spread. It's clear he wants to hold your hand. Chest heaving and still lightly moaning, your eyes dart from his hand to his face — and that’s the mistake. 

He’s fucking beautiful. Hair mussed, rosy-cheeked, and dark-eyed, Steve can only hold eye contact for a moment before his eyelids slip shut as he moans against your cunt. Fire blooms under your skin, coil turned tighter and together. He wants to hold your hand. Your fingers just manage to tangle with Steve’s, holding tight, as you tip over the edge with a cry. 

It’s intense — jagged waves of pleasure that ride through every nerve in your body and have you nearly overwhelmed with how fucking good it feels. Incoherent babbling whines pour from your mouth. Your thighs lock up, beating Steve’s strong hold now that he’s down to just one hand, and close around his head. He moans in response, his tongue never letting up, licking and sucking at your cunt fervently. 

And he holds your hand the whole way through. 

You feel thoroughly flattened by the time your orgasm tapers off, your legs relaxing and flopping tiredly against the bed. Vaguely, you’re aware you should apologise for likely cutting off his oxygen flow for a good couple of seconds there but you’re too out of breath yourself to do so. 

Your chest rises and falls and a sweet contentment settles into your skin. You feel happy, loved. Without meaning to, an awed laugh titters out of you. 

Then another, and another. You can’t seem to stop laughing, a gleeful silly joy as you release his hand to bury your face in your own. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. Then, slightly louder. “Holy shit, Steve.” 

You hear him laugh and the sheets crinkle — and then he’s in your field of vision, hovering over you with an adoring grin on his face. His lips are still so pink and there’s a shine on his chin. He wipes it away absentmindedly, focused on you. 

“I take it you enjoyed yourself?” He says, genuine and not at all cocky. He settles down, one arm on either side of your chest. One of his hands sweeps over your face sweetly. 

You nod, tucking your bottom lip behind your teeth to constrain your grin. 

“Uh huh,” you say, voice all gooey. “I didn’t—“ 

You pause. “I thought— and then you— and Oh my Goddd.” You cover your face with your hands again, groaning exaggeratedly as you try to roll over and melt away into his bed sheets. 

“See? I told you it wasn’t you,” Steve says, peppering little kisses where he can reach. He kisses your shoulder, along the side of your face. He coaxes you out gently, pressing your shoulder to roll you onto your back. You face him properly.

“There is nothing wrong with you.” He reminds you. You’ve never been so happy to be wrong. You nod, hair scrunching against the pillow behind you. 

“Okay,” You say, with a small smile, finally believing it. “There’s nothing wrong with me.” 

Steve’s stare is glowing with fondness and the next moment, he’s lurching forward to press his mouth to yours. You kiss back greedily and lazily all at once.

He pulls back and you hate how the thought comes to you, unbidden; the smallest wrinkle creasing between your brows. 

“But,” You begin, voice small. “That wasn’t sex though.” 

Steve’s head tilts an inch, like an adorably confused puppy. “What do you mean? That was sex.” 

“What? That was— that was like second base.”

Steve huffs a laugh, though not directed at you. His gaze shifts above your head as he chooses his words. “Uhh, sure, if we were still in high school. But even then, that’s still sex. We just had some sex.” 

Stating it so plainly, you can’t help how it makes you giggle a bit. Steve rolls his eyes, even though you can tell he’s entirely endeared. 

“We just had sex,” You repeat his words, eyes bright and grin growing. “And I really enjoyed it.” 

Steve laughs loudly and steals a quick kiss from you. Holding up his hand, he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Just had sex high-five?” He jokes. 

You slap your hand against his anyways, twisting your fingers to hold onto his hand as you let them fall to the bed. Steve beams, cuddling in closer, the tip of his nose nuzzling against your own. 

Turns out, you might be starting to get the whole big deal around sex after all. 

[vincinnamontoast]

⠂☆ Vi SFW & NSFW HCs

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ tws/content warnings: nsfw towards the end :) not rlly proofread, a bit more modern au, lowercase intended

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ a/n: I’m still working on the story I wanted to post today but I wanted to put something out. so here are a little bit of my vi head cannons! this is lightly proofread with no organization tbh :>

☆ SFW/NSFW MIX

˚. starting off very in it, she worships you and the very soil you walk on. she will quite literally do whatever you say with no questions asked, but of course you don’t take advantage of that

˚. she does in fact snore. nothing crazy heavy and loud. just a light snore with some heavy breathing.

˚. she isn’t the best at regulating her emotions. she is very shamelessly vulnerable with her partner, and she loves being safe enough to feel small sometimes.

˚. she is a very light sleeper. any sense of movement and her eyes slightly open to ensure you’re fine. If so, she goes right back to sleep like nothing. will not move at all, and honestly it concerns you. she has to be sleeping on or near you. if you move away from her, she goes right back.

˚. baby needs so much love. she is a sucker for being babied. wash her hair in the shower, make her little snacks, smushing her cheeks and kissing her nose, tucking her in, and kissing her forehead. call her baby and she’s done for. she will never admit, but you can see it in the way her cheeks turn a warm peachy pink when you baby her. she loves reciprocation, so you can bet you’ll get the same exact love and treatment back

˚. she gets pretty frequent nightmares. she’ll panic inside until she realizes you are asleep next to her, then she’s rolled up into you

˚. loves being both big and little spoon

˚. Is in love with you and everything you do. she will sit and listen to you talk for hours about anything. while you talk, she admires you. the way you move, your voice, how every syllable slips from your lips like honey. she feels so woozy and intoxicated when she is with you. you wipe her off her toes by simply breathing in her direction

˚. she listens so well. you stare at a new game or a nice jacket for too long and you’ll have it by the end of the week. mention how you’ve been craving anything and she’ll have it cooked for you and fresh or ready for take out

˚. she is actually very smart (makes me sad some people call her stupid). she enjoys learning new things but she does get a bit impatient. although it does seem like she jumps into her fights head first, she has strategy and technique.

˚. she is pretty tech savvy. Jinx and Ekko taught her a lot of what she knows. (I do hc that jinx is very tech savvy and into computer software :p).

˚. she always tells you that she loves you. she just wants you to stay aware of how much you mean to her. when you’re both off at work, she ends up always missing you tremendously. she wakes up dreading the moment you both seperate in the morning. you can definitely expect her to blow up your phone with cute messages and comments about her day when she can.

˚. I indeed hc that she has a staring problem. she’s just intrigued easily by little things. she analyzes and is never sure when to look away. she stares at you. A LOT. she admires every single thing about you. every quality, every imperfection, all of it.

˚. very observant and attentive

˚. terrible road rage. she definitely puts up that middle finger and spits profanities

˚. so headstrong and can be very stubborn

˚. follows you everywhereeee. she can’t help it, she loves you so much and just wants you to be right there. she decides stops to following you one day, because she feels as if she’s being annoying. you both were watching movies. kissing her cheek, you stood up. she flexed for a moment, forgetting her plan. halfway down the hall, you noticed you couldn’t feel her right on your tail. when she wasn’t there, you walked back to the living room. she was sitting on the couch with her head down, like a sad puppy. “come here, baby”, was all you said before she jumped up, running to follow you. In truth, you loved it (she’s so puppy coded)

˚. she does talk with her mouth open out of habit. she does it in public when she has to say something.

˚. I believe that she isn’t picky BUT she does like to critique food. she is a food critic and will be honest with you. she is not the greatest cook but she loves to learn and try. she hasn’t dissatisfied you with a dish yet :p

˚. very protective but she knows you can protect yourself. that doesn’t matter though, it won’t change the fact that she is a protector

˚. she is always there for you always, will straight up leave work or anything to be with you if you’re having a bad day

˚. she isn’t the best with wording how she feels but she shows everything through her actions

˚. will defend you in anything, even if you are wrong. she is the defend you in public, correct you in private type

˚. she is an over thinker and does need reassurance sometimes. she is afraid to lose you in any way, but struggles to reassure herself that you aren’t going anywhere.

˚. she actually begs you to get the vi tat on your hip. when you do, she’ll get something that resembles you or your initials on hers

˚. she is so funny actually. she will have you falling over laughing with a shit eating grin on her face. when you both laugh together * chefs kiss *. her laugh is so cute. she does cackle and react with her body when she’s really into it. does in fact think brain rot shit like rizz and skibidi is funny

˚. very very helpful. she can also build shit. bob the builder lesbian fr. truly such a sweetheart and will do anything to help around the apartment you share

˚. she loves video games, choice horror and lore games are her favorite

˚. she is a bit messy, will leave her clothes on the floor and forgets to put her dishes in the sink. she just forgets to clean up after herself sometimes (as we all do honestly)

˚. tends to eat fast because she never knew when she’d eat growing up. It’s just one of her many habits in adulthood. she always makes sure that you have food to eat before she does. just like she did for all of her siblings growing up. she is a nurturer at heart

˚. physical touch is a HUGE love language for her. She loves skin to skin. Quality time is also one of her biggest. has got to be near you or at least have you in her eyesight, but she can respect your personal space.

˚. get jealous easily but she isn’t toxic about it. she’s used to everything being taken from her

˚. has a very gentle touch despite being how strong she is

˚. she can sing. she plays with your hair and sings softly n your neck when you’re sleepy

˚. huge softie. she tends to portray herself as tough, (and of course she is) but she is truly a teddy bear at heart.

˚. best person ever to chill out with. days where you’re both off work, lazy, and watching horror movies, eating, and playing games all day >>>> she’s down for anything honestly. she makes everything so fun and she is such a light to be around. she has her moments as we all do but you’re her partner and you’re there when she needs you

˚. she can be very annoying (i love ittt). can be pretty loud and constantly makes stupid jokes at the worst times.

˚. type who teases the fuck out of you constantly but when you tease her back, she gets so flustered. you both get huge boosts of confidence with each other and will flirt back and forth. It always ends with your eyes in the back of your head and her face between your legs.

˚. you worship her tattoos and kiss her along them all the time. breathing and kissing her neck while dragging your fingertips down the big one on her back. kiss her down it grrrrrr. makes her weak

˚. eats you out like a mad mann. depends on how eager she is but she usually has a method. she puts work into it every time, pleasure for you is pleasure for her. the way she holds you during it, you’re so important to her. your comfort is everything. she’s either the crazy in it type or the brutally slow but you can feel every single swipe and curl of her tongue type. rub her undercut and play with her hair >>>>>> she definitely moans when she’s eating you out

˚. she’s got so much energy and stamina. will have you bent and taking it every which way for hoursss

˚. Is such a good kisser. she is the ‘eat you whole’ type kisser. wants every part of your body on hers when you’re kissing. her hands stay up and down your body. will grab you by the back of your hair, hold your face gently, and guide your mouth into hers. soul connection type makeouts 24/7. always stops to look at you as you’re both panting, admiring each other

˚. grabs your face and makes you look at her when she fingers you. and she’s so good with it too. it’s so hard to maintain eye contact with her, because she makes you nervous. feeling your vision fade in and out because of how good it feels. “look at me” makes you feel things you thought you’d never

˚. she has nipple piercings (canonnnnnnnnn)

˚. she is a moaner and pretty vocal, they’re so soft and smooth coming from her heart shaped lips.

˚. she dirty talks so bad. she’ll have you feeling disgustinnggg afterwards

˚. her body is so warm and soft honestly, those bandages save her from a lot of the scruff she’d get.

˚. seeing her soft pink hair laid everywhere on the bed as you lay between her legs. her pussy melts in your mouth like honey butter and the sounds she makes>>>>

˚. a switch. lovesss to have you between her legs. to keep it quick, everything is messy, and nothing is ever boring with her

˚. she is a very loving and supportive partner

a/n: hope you liked! <3 i lowkey keep adding onto this bc my brain is spiraling lmao but anyways… might write a knight or townsfolk vi x princess reader sooonnnnn

[greengoblinswifey]

More than Friends- Brother’s Bsf!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you’ve always had a secret crush on Nicholas, your brother’s best friend and your childhood friend. when he invites you to his show’s premiere, long-buried feelings finally surface, and you face what’s been growing between you all these years.

warnings— friends to lovers, loss of virginity, jealous!nicholas, oral, unprotected sex(don’t let a 🥷🏿 fuck you without one) , fingering, praise kink, fluff, aftercare.

a/n— requests are open <3

You had known Nicholas Chavez for as long as you could remember. He’d been your brother’s best friend since the early days, which naturally made him a big part of your life, too. He was only three years older, but there’d always been a distinct gap, he was your older brother's cool best friend, the one you looked up to, even if you’d never admit it out loud. There was something about him, though, that always lingered in the back of your mind, a pull you couldn't quite name but always felt.

Growing up, you and Nicholas shared a special bond, separate from his friendship with your brother. You’d go out together, always managing to find matching clothes or even wearing identical rings. “Twins,” he’d joke, holding up his hand to show the ring you had given him on his birthday. It was simple and unassuming, but every time you glanced at it, there was an unspoken tension that lay just beneath the surface, neither of you daring to bring it up.

But as the years went by, things changed. Nicholas landed a role on Monsters and Grotesquerie, the TV shows that catapulted him to fame, and it wasn’t long before his life was full of red carpets and late-night shoots. He was often away, and you’d find yourself scrolling through TikTok edits of him when he was too busy to FaceTime. Everyone on social media couldn’t stop talking about how attractive he was, how lucky any girl would be to date him. A knot would twist in your stomach every time you saw those comments, jealousy mixing with a feeling you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge.

Whenever he did have a moment to breathe, he’d reach out, sometimes posting photos of the two of you together on his stories. His fans would flock to your profile, leaving jealous comments or speculating if you were more than just childhood friends. One time, you’d posted a shot of your hand with his, each of you wearing those same rings from years ago. Fans had gone wild, and your brother hadn’t missed it, either, throwing you a suspicious glance when he’d noticed.

One day, he called you out of the blue with a proposition: he wanted you to be his plus-one for the premiere of Monsters. You’d agreed, trying to keep your excitement in check, though a part of you hoped this might finally be the moment when something would shift between you.

The night of the premiere, you could hardly believe it was happening. The cameras flashed as Nicholas introduced you to his co-stars and other industry people, and people couldn’t stop asking if the two of you were together. Each time, though, he’d shake his head with a soft laugh, throwing an arm around your shoulders and saying, “Nah, she’s like my little sister. We grew up together. It’s nothing like that.”

The words cut deeper than you’d expected. It wasn’t until that moment, standing beside him under the bright lights, that you realized you were in love with him. Maybe you had been for a long time.

It hurt, watching him play it off as though your bond meant nothing more than childhood nostalgia, knowing he would never see you the way you wanted him to.

He turned to you at one point, noticing your silence. “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been really quiet tonight.”

“Yeah,” you replied, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Just, taking it all in, I guess.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking like he didn’t quite believe you, but he let it go, just pulling you closer for a photo.

At the after-party, you decided to let loose a bit. Nicholas was busy mingling, so when Cooper Koch found you, you didn’t hold back. With a mischievous grin, you allowed yourself to dance, feeling free as you moved with Cooper, who, to your surprise, didn’t seem to mind the attention either. You leaned in, laughing as the music pulsed around you, and let your body fall into rhythm with his.

Suddenly, a firm hand grabbed your arm and pulled you back, breaking the spell. “What the hell was that?” Nicholas’s voice was low, his eyes narrowed as he stared at you. He looked annoyed, even... jealous?

“I was just having fun, Nick. It’s a party,” you said, shrugging nonchalantly, though your heart was racing.

He clenched his jaw, looking away from you, and after a tense silence, muttered, “Whatever.” Then he ignored you for the rest of the night.

In response, you doubled down, laughing a little too loudly with Cooper and reaching for his hand as you leaned against him. You could feel Nicholas’s eyes on you now and then, but he kept his distance.

When the party finally ended, you were a bit tipsy, and walking in heels felt like a challenge. Nicholas was by your side in an instant, his arm slipping under your shoulders. "Come on," he muttered, guiding you out. The car ride back was quiet, filled with tension you could almost taste.

Once you reached his place, he carried you to the guest room, careful but intense, his gaze meeting yours with each step. He laid you down gently on the bed, eyes dark as they flicked from your face to your lips. For a moment, he lingered, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned up and kissed him.

The kiss was electric, and he leaned into it, his hands moving instinctively, pulling you closer. But just as quickly, he pulled away, shaking his head. “I can’t do this. Not with you. I can’t do that to your brother.”

You looked at him, a mix of hurt and defiance swirling in your eyes. Before he could say more, you slipped out of your dress, revealing the delicate lace you wore underneath. His breath hitched, and his eyes traveled over you, unable to tear away. "Damn it," he muttered, running a hand through his hair before lowering himself back down, his lips meeting yours again, more desperate this time.

“Forget everything I said,” he whispered against your skin.

Nicholas's fingers slipped down, finding your pussy wet and eager, his touch precise as he stroked and teased you. He rubbed your clit slowly, staring into your eyes, the moment was intimate and everything you ever dreamed of. His thumb rubbed your clit as he slipped his finger inside you and you felt like the world around you ceased to exist. The pleasure built until you couldn't hold back, your body arching as he pushed you over the edge. You lay there, breathing heavily, and as he leaned back, your words broke through the haze between you.

"Nicholas, I'm a virgin," you confessed softly, your cheeks flushing as his eyes widened.

Nicholas looked down at you, visibly stunned, his voice a little rough. "Wait, you're a virgin? But, what about your exes? I thought—"

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, two boyfriends, but my brother scared them off from anything serious. And, honestly, they just weren’t, the right one." You met his gaze, your hand reaching for his. "But you are, Nicholas. I want this. I want it to be you."

He hesitated, taking in your words, the sincerity in your eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek, still searching for reassurance.

You nodded, your answer clear in the warmth of your expression.

He leaned down, pressing gentle kisses along your body, his touch reverent and careful. As he moved lower, he whispered, “I want to make this good for you.” His mouth pressed against your sensitive clit, eyes never leaving yours as he tasted you slowly, purposefully, coaxing wave after wave of pleasure from you until you finally came, breathless.

You reached out to his clothed cock to help him, but he shook his head, a smile curving his lips. “Tonight’s about you pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice warm and low. “This is your first time, and I want to make sure it’s perfect. Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

The room was quiet, the kind of stillness that carried a weight of its own. The two of you sat close, the low lighting casting soft shadows across his face. Nicholas had been your friend for years, practically family, and yet, right now, that familiar face held a depth you hadn’t seen before.

He brushed his thumb along your cheek, a touch he'd offered countless times in comfort or friendship, but this time, he lingered, his thumb tracing the delicate line of your cheekbone. Your breath caught, the air thickening between you. The words tumbled from his lips, barely above a whisper, as if he feared breaking the fragile tension. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, heart pounding, and took his hand, intertwining your fingers as if grounding yourself in the moment. “I’ve waited so long, Nick.” He swallowed, his gaze steady, the quiet weight of everything unspoken passing between you.

With a hint of humor to ease your nerves, you took in the sight of him, and your eyes widened. “That’s gonna go inside me?” you said, slightly stunned. He chuckled softly, with a smirk that was all confidence and warmth. “It’ll fit. I’ll make it fit.”

He placed your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “Just say the word if it’s too much, and I’ll stop.”

Every step was deliberate, every touch gentle as he moved slowly, his focus entirely on you. He watched your face, the slightest changes in your expression, waiting for any sign of discomfort. “You’re doing so well,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe as your grip tightened around his fingers. Each small movement was slow, careful, his whispered reassurances grounding you.

You gasped, and he immediately stilled, eyes scanning your face. “Everything okay?” His tone was soft, a mixture of concern and patience. A shaky breath left your lips, and you nodded, steadying yourself as his gentle encouragement filled the space between you.

“I’ve always loved you, you know that, right?” you whispered, almost afraid to say the words out loud. He hovered just inches from your face, his lips brushing against yours as he replied with a smile that held years of unspoken emotions. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice soft and warm. “I think I always have too, I was just too scared to admit it.”

Nicholas stayed close, his hand finding yours as he moved slowly, stretching you and practically reaching your cervix before whispering, “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, breathless. “Yes Nicholas, please, don't stop.”

He chuckled softly, eyes full of adoration as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. “You're taking me so well,” he murmured, his voice warm and encouraging. “I knew you would.” His words and steady movements built you up again until you came all over his thick cock, your body clenching around him as he held you close, grounding you with gentle praise.

“That's it, beautiful, let go for me,” he whispered, kissing your shoulder and neck. When your breathing slowed, he gently flipped you onto your stomach, his touch delicate as he continued, tracing kisses along your shoulders and down your back. “You’re so beautiful, do you know that?” His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as you felt the tension building again, his whispered words filling you with warmth and reassurance.

With one final thrust, he groaned, spilling onto your back, then smiled, tracing his fingers along your spine. “You’ve always had the most perfect ass,” he teased, making you laugh as you both caught your breath.

Afterward, he was attentive and gentle, cleaning you up carefully, checking in with soft words and brushing stray hair out of your face. “Are you okay baby? Did I hurt you at all?”

You shook your head, a peaceful smile spreading across your face. “No. You were perfect, Nick.”

He climbed into bed beside you, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close, pressing gentle kisses along your face, your nose, your eyelids, and murmuring, “You’ve always been mine. I just, didn’t know how to tell you.” His fingers traced patterns along your back as he held you, letting the night settle around you both.

In his embrace, with his whispered reassurances, you felt safe, warm, and exactly where you’d always belonged. He was finally yours.

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Don't Take Him

Request: Anonymous said: "hi! oh my gosh i love your tyler x reader writings so much. could you do one where the reader is watching the tornado wrangler's livestream while they're chasing and suddenly it cuts out & she's worried something happened to tyler? with just fluff and angst and all that? thank you <3"

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: angst

A/N: I'm afraid i'm officially down bad for tyler owens (and glen powell). send help.

The notification popped up on your phone while you were cooking dinner in the kitchen. 

The Tornado Wranglers started a live video. Watch it before it ends! 

You rolled your eyes and smirked. Tyler and his stupid channel, you thought. 

After wiping your hands on a dish towel, you swiped your thumb across the notification, letting it take you to their feed.

Boone’s face was the first you saw. His goofy, contagious grin flashed across the screen. “Alright, it’s rollin’,” he said, flipping the camera to show Tyler in the driver’s seat. “How we feelin’ today, T?” 

Tyler beamed, his smile causing his eyes to crinkle the way you loved so much. As annoying as it was to constantly be competing with tornadoes for Tyler’s affection, you had to admit that his passion was admirable. 

“Oh, we’re feelin’ pretty good, Boone– why don’t you show the viewers what we’re chasin’ today!”

The screen panned over towards the windshield, showing the storm ahead. The footage was a little grainy, but the impending storm in the distance was obvious.

“Ain’t she a beaut?” Boone marveled. 

“Now y’all got fireworks last week– this week what do you say we give rockets a go?” Tyler said, just as Boone turned the camera back on him. 

“Idiots,” you mumbled to yourself, shaking your head. You rested your phone against the utensil jar, propping it up so that you could continue to maneuver around the kitchen and listen at the same time. 

After a while, you got lost in the recipe you were trying, tuning out your boyfriend and his friends.

“Alright, Boone– Lilly?” Tyler said as you continued to chop the vegetables on the cutting board in front of you. “You ready?” 

“Oh, I’m ready!” you heard Lilly chime back. 

“Here we go, folks– as always, don’t try this at home!” 

You briefly turned your attention back towards the video as they began actively driving into the tornado, your view limited to Boone’s shaky camera work as Tyler’s driving undoubtedly turned chaotic. 

To avoid motion sickness, you looked back towards the food in front of you.

“She’s gettin’ close, boys!” Lilly yelled. 

You heard their collective cheers and hollers. 

“Anchoring time–” Tyler said. 

There was a brief pause before you heard Boone. “Hit the button, T–”

“I am hitting the button,” Tyler said firmly. 

“Tyler–” Lilly said. It was the hint of urgency in her tone that had you looking back towards your phone again. 

“It’s jammed–” Tyler said. “Here, gimme the screwdriver.”

Boone had clearly ceased thinking about camera angles. All you saw was the edge of Tyler’s face in the corner of the screen.  

“Tyler, we gotta lock it down–”

“I know, Boone. I’m tryin’ here– the damn button’s stuck again.”

“Guys–” Lilly warned. 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched the frame. 

“Guys, it’s getting closer.”

“I know–” Tyler said. “Boone, move your hand.”

“C’mon, man, let me try–”

“I’m telling you, it’s stuck–”

“Look out!” you jumped at Lilly’s sudden scream, followed by the sound of a loud bang, that echoed even through the screen. 

“Oh shit–” Boone yelled, camera flying. 

You grabbed your phone urgently, but all you could see was the ceiling of Tyler’s truck. Suddenly, gear was flying through the screen– almost as if the truck was flipping. You held your breath, panic and dread flooding through your entire body as you watched helplessly. 

“Hang on to someth–” Tyler’s voice was suddenly cut off along with Boone’s feed. 

The Tornado Wranglers live stream has ended. 

Even after their video went dark, you continued staring at your phone– like you were hoping Boone would pop back up any second, laughing like this was some sick, twisted joke. 

Except you waited– and waited, and Boone never popped back up. 

And neither did Tyler. 

Frantically, you pulled up your contacts and clicked on Tyler’s name. You had an unspoken agreement that no matter what he was doing during a chase– if you called, he answered. 

So that’s exactly what you did. 

But your nerves weren’t settled. In fact, you stopped breathing all together when Tyler’s phone went straight to voicemail– something he swore he’d never do. 

Hoping that he just had bad service, you called a second time– and then a third. But each time you heard Tyler’s voice telling you to leave a message at the beep, you felt the pool of panic inside of you rising higher and higher. 

“C’mon Tyler,” you muttered to yourself. 

Stupidly, you let your hopes get up when Lilly’s phone actually rang. But when that went to voicemail too, your hopes just about shattered. You didn’t even bother to try Boone– he may have been the camera guy, but he almost never had his own phone within reach. 

After your fifth attempt to reach Tyler, you finally did leave a message. 

“Hey, it’s me. I was watching the livestream when it cut out and I–” your voice cracked, causing you to stop and take a shaky breath. “Listen, I just need to know that you’re okay. So please call me back.”

With that, you hung up the phone, setting it on the counter after finally realizing it probably wouldn’t be beneficial to try calling him a sixth time– no matter how badly you wanted to. You stared ahead out the window that was over the sink. It was blue skies where you were– just a few wispy, thin clouds overhead. Nothing that remotely resembled what Tyler had just driven through.  

You didn’t even know where he was chasing today. You’d meant to ask when he’d called you last night from his motel room, but you’d gotten distracted by the dog whining to go out and ultimately forgot. Now, you had no way to contact him and no idea where he was…  

Suddenly, a sob bubbled in your throat. Before you could filter or control it, you were letting out a shaky gasp– shoulders shuddering as you gripped the edge of the counter and doubled over. 

You felt it everywhere– from your mind down to your toes, your entire body reacted to the cruel, impossible idea of something happening to Tyler. 

Maybe he was fine, you told yourself. Maybe Boone just dropped his phone and the feed cut– But even as the thought crossed your mind, you knew it was ridiculously unlikely. You saw those things go flying– you heard Lilly’s scream. 

Maybe the car flipped, maybe it was crushed. 

Maybe Tyler was pulled right from his seat, tossed into the oncoming storm. 

Maybe he was hit with flying debris, his body mangled and bruised and broken–

“No,” you whimpered to yourself, shaking your head. “No, no, no– please– please don't take him, please don't take him.”

You weren't even sure who you were pleading to, all you knew was that you couldn’t imagine Tyler not being okay. He was the strong one– always steady, always certain. He was your rock, the person you leaned on for absolutely everything. And the idea of him being hurt somewhere was unfathomable. Tyler didn’t get scared– Tyler didn’t get hurt. Tyler drove into oncoming tornadoes and stayed strong. 

To your absolute despair, all you could do in the upcoming hours while you waited for any sort of news, was hope to God that was still the case. 

Eventually, you found a home on the kitchen floor– back against the cabinets and knees hugged tightly to your chest to try and withstand the dread raging inside of you. 

…

Tyler put his truck in park outside of the house before running a hand through his damp, windblown hair. After the day he’d had, he’d never been happier to be home. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d flipped in the truck. Thanks to the roll cage, they wound back upright with next to no damage– but Tyler knew it’d been his fault. The stupid rods had malfunctioned again– something Tyler had been meaning to take a look at for the past month. Except every time they got stuck, he’d managed to fix the jam before the storms actually hit. But this time, he’d been too late. 

Luckily, his two passengers were even bigger adrenaline junkies than he was. The truck had barely landed back on its wheels before Boone was hollering and pounding his fist against the ceiling in excitement. And Lilly wasn’t far behind him. Meanwhile, all Tyler could do was look down at his shattered cell phone and hope to hell you wouldn’t need to reach him for the rest of the night. 

As soon as Tyler walked through the front door of your shared house, he noticed signs of you everywhere. The lamp near your reading chair was turned on, and the blanket you always used was strewn across the couch messily. He noticed the mug resting on the coffee table, thinking to himself that it was almost certainly half full of the tea you always insisted on making at night but never finished. 

He smiled to himself, as he bent over to untie his muddy boots, eager to spend the rest of his night holding you close. 

He had barely managed to toe off his final boot when he heard shuffling from the kitchen. 

“Tyler?” 

He could instantly tell that something was off– your voice sounded so muffled and choked up.  

“Hey,” he said, turning to offer you a smile. But it faded from his face at the sight of you. Your body was trembling, shoulders slumped and arms wound tightly around yourself. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy from what looked like hours of crying. 

“Baby?” he said. 

In response, you covered your mouth and hunched over just in time for a sob to escape your lips. 

Instantly, Tyler’s stomach dropped to the floor. 

“Hey,” he said, hurrying forward. He hesitated, hands hovering near your shoulders. He’d never seen you like this– so fragile and broken and obviously devastated over something. But he had no fucking idea what it was– which meant, he had no fucking idea how to fix it. 

Your hair had fallen in your face, but he could still see the tears rolling steadily down your rosy cheeks as you gasped for air. 

“Hey,” he repeated gently, tilting his head down so that he was closer to your height. 

“I-I saw– And I thought–” you stammered frantically, jumping to the next sentence without finishing the first. 

In that moment, Tyler decided against his earlier hesitation and risked reaching for you. Just standing there and watching you fall apart went against every instinct he had– he wanted to protect you, keep you safe from anything that could cause this kind of harm. 

But as soon as his hands grazed your shoulder, Tyler knew that he’d made the wrong choice. The moment he made contact, you lunged forward– hands planting themselves on his chest before you gave him a shove. 

“You asshole!” you yelled through a sob. 

Tyler staggered backwards– more from being caught off guard by your sudden burst of anger, than from how hard you pushed him.

But he barely had time to recover before you were lunging for him a second time. Using what little energy you had, you shoved him again. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” you shouted. 

Tyler took a simple step back, eyes scanning the length of you– trying to decide what the hell he should do. When you attempted to push him for a third time, your arms barely had any energy left in them.

“Hey–” he breathed, gripping your wrists when they landed on his chest a fourth time. 

“Let go of me!” you yelled, wiggling from his grasp. “You’re an asshole, Tyler!”

“Stop,” he begged, releasing your wrists to wrap his arms around your shoulders. You fought his hold, fists colliding with his chest instead. But this time, he didn’t let go. 

“No!” you sobbed, but he could already feel you slowing down. Not like your shoves or fists hurt before, but with each pound, the impact grew lighter and lighter. 

“Stop,” he repeated, forcing you to his chest, despite your resistance. You were pushing him away– but everything about your demeanor screamed that you needed his comfort. 

Finally, whether it was his persistence or your exhaustion, you gave up fighting and let your body melt against his.  

Tyler planted one palm between your shoulder blades firmly and used the other to cup the back of your neck, anchoring you to him securely. As soon as Tyler tightened his hold on you, you erupted into a fit of sobs– like all the dam inside of you needed was just a little bit of pressure to break. The trembling turned into violent shaking, and you began gripping at the fabric of his t-shirt like your life depended on it. 

And Tyler had no fucking idea what to do– 

So, he did the only thing he could do, which was hold onto you tightly and let you stain the front of his plain gray shirt with your tears. 

“I got you, baby,” Tyler whispered as he pressed a lingering kiss against the top of your head. “You’re okay, I got you.” 

Eventually, he heard you take a ragged breath and pull away just enough to look up at him. Tyler cupped your jaw with his large hand and used his thumb to stroke your cheek. “Talk to me,” he pleaded.

You bit down on your quivering lip before speaking. “I-I was watching– I was watching Boone’s livestream when it cut out– and then, your phone– I couldn’t reach you. I- I called like– so many times, but you didn’t answer– I thought– I thought something had happened– I thought you were hurt– or-or worse–”

“Oh, baby,” Tyler exhaled, guilt spreading through him at the thought of you having to see whatever got streamed from the accident earlier. He was the reason you were so distraught in your shared kitchen at eleven o’clock. He was the reason your eyes were red rimmed and swollen. He was the reason your cheeks were stained with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

“I thought I was gonna get a phone call– from the hospital or- or your mom or something– I didn’t think you’d- I didn’t think you’d come home, I thought you died,” You broke on the last admission, like something inside of you had cracked. You collapsed in on yourself, hunching over and wracking with heaving sobs.

Tyler pulled you back into his embrace, like he was the only thing preventing you from drowning. Gradually, his soft touch and gentle murmurs brought you to the surface again. 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he repeated, lips ghosting along your temple. “I’m right here. I’m okay.”

“But- the truck– it flipped–”

He nodded above you. “It did– I couldn’t get the screws bolted down in time. But we have the cage, the truck rolled right back upright. Everyone is fine. I mean, Boone might have a few loose screws, but there’s no tellin’ if that’s from the rolled truck–”

Your tone immediately hardened as you sharply pulled back again. “Are you seriously making jokes right now, Tyler?” 

And truthfully, Tyler wasn’t entirely sure how to react. He looked down at you pathetically, chest aching to see you so upset. You being this angry with him was uncharted territory. 

“You could have died!” you said loudly. “I know you think you are, but you’re not invincible, Tyler! This isn’t some movie where you get to drive into tornadoes completely unscathed ten times out of ten. This is our lives! I-I mean, what the hell were you thinking?”

”Everything’s okay–”

“Everything is not okay! I’m not okay! Do you know how helpless I felt? Watching that stupid livestream? I tried to call, but– but you didn’t answer, I couldn’t do anything but wait here! I mean, what if that had been me? What if you’d seen a video of me crashing my car– and then had no way to reach me? What if you had to spend all night wondering if you were going to get a call that I was dead in a ditch God-only-knows-where?”

For once, Tyler had no response. Because the truth was, he knew everything you were saying was right. He’d be equally angry and frustrated and horrified if the tables were turned. 

You wiped the tear falling down your cheek, lip quivering. “I– I can’t live in a world without you in it, Tyler. I really can’t–”   

In the deafening silence, he sighed. “I know,” he said quietly, stepping forward to bring you back into his embrace. He was surprised when you willingly let him wrap his arms around you, head falling to rest on his chest. 

Tyler’s hand ran through your hair. “I know. I’m okay, baby. I’m right here, I got you.”

He was okay. He was alive and he was right here– you could hear his heartbeat beneath you–  feel his breath against the side of your neck. He was alive and unharmed. 

You kept your eyes closed and tried to memorize the sound of his heartbeat. You let it seep into the cracks of your heart and heal whatever had been broken in the last few hours of worrying– wondering if he was alive. You focused on the way his arms felt around you– impossibly warm, and so, so safe. 

Gradually, your breathing and your mind slowed. Until all that was left was Tyler. 

Your voice was shaky when you finally pulled away. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” you exhaled. “I didn’t like not being able to reach you.”

Tyler’s hand stroked your hair gently, “Baby, I’m so sorry I made you worry– my phone broke when we rolled. I’ll get a new one tomorrow, I promise.”

You nodded slowly and placed your hand against Tyler’s chest. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

You blinked a few times, realizing how tired you were. “Yeah–” you said, nodding. You felt Tyler’s heartbeat beneath your palm.   

Each beat reminding you that he was here and he was alive and he was okay. 

“Can you–” your voice cracked slightly, making you wince. “Can you please just stay with me the rest of the night? I just–” you glanced down at the floor, embarrassed to admit how much you needed him. “I just need to be close to you tonight.”

Tyler’s eyes softened. “Of course, baby. Where else would I be?”

You nodded slowly. 

Tyler grabbed your hand and led you towards the couch. He took the blanket you’d left sprawled out from earlier and wrapped it around your shoulders before pulling you down beside him. He laid back against the cushions and made a spot for you. Without even hesitating, you curled up between his legs and rested your head back against his chest. 

“I need you to promise me you’ll be careful,” you pleaded. “I know you love chasing, and I’d never ask you to give that up, but I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you.”

You felt Tyler sigh beneath you, his chest rising and falling steadily. “I promise.” 

“And I need you to promise me you’ll get those damn screws fixed. That’s like the third time this month you’ve told me that they’ve jammed.”

You felt his chest rumble as he chuckled softly. “I will. Believe it or not, I didn’t like rolling in my truck, either.”

You lifted your head from his chest so that you could get a good look at Tyler’s face. Even after all these years with him, he still managed to leave you breathless.  

“Well then maybe it’s time you take a break and just stay home for a little while,” you teased, lips curling into a soft smile. 

The corner of Tyler’s lips tugged upward as his green eyes sparkled under the dim light. “You know what, that might not be a bad idea.” 

You raised your eyebrow skeptically. You knew you shouldn’t get your hopes up, and yet, that was exactly what you did. “Really?” 

Tyler’s hand tucked a loose strand of your hair from your face before his thumb grazed across your wet cheek. He nodded sincerely. “Really.”

You were a mess– eyes puffy, lips cracked. You were exhausted and so shaken up from everything that had happened. And who knew how long Tyler would have to put extra effort into helping make you feel safe. 

But right now, wrapped in his embrace on your shared couch, all you needed was him.   

[mrsbarnesblog]

just a friend

masterlist

requests are open

summary: your best friend gets jealous when he sees you talking to some random guy at his party

words count: 3k

warnings: +18❗️smut, swearing, p in v sex, protected sex, friends to lovers, possessive but softie Rafe, dirty talk, pet names

You were standing near the kitchen island, far away from everybody else, sipping on your drink and observing Rafe. The loud music busted through the speakers, there were too many unknown faces and for the hundredth time wished you had stayed at home. 

Rafe was sitting on the couch in the middle of the room with Kelse, Topper, a few other guys, and, most importantly, some random girl. She was way too touchy for your liking and it honestly seemed like she was ready to get into his pants in front of everyone. 

Rafe didn't pay much attention, though, even while she was rubbing his pants-covered thigh and saying something in his ear. No, Rafe was too interested in the conversation with his friend, but it didn't stop that nasty and overwhelming feeling of jealousy bubbling in your stomach.

You and Rafe have been friends for almost three years, but it didn't seem like it. While you had neved crossed the invisible line, unknowningly for each other you both admitted to yourself that whatever was going on in between you two was not a regular friendship. Friends shouldn't sleep in each other's beds. Friends shouldn’t spend that much time together alone. Friends shouldn't be jealous every single time someone talks to their friend. And friends shouldn't be in love. 

Yet, here you were. 

You were staring at this scene for at least fifteen minutes and it drove you fucking insane. Especially the fact that Rafe had never let any man even talk to you, not to mention be all up in your face. It was so unfair that he had double standards for you and that he probably didn't even realize your feelings for him. 

Rafe was just too overprotective and possessive and you had to admit the ugly truth to yourself that it wasn't because he was in love with you. 

You finished your drink, wincing at the taste of alcohol, and straightened, looking across the room full of people. There were too many guys; you spotted the one that looked kind of attractive and moved in his direction. You were done with Rafe’s bullshit. If he could have girls all over himself, so could you. 

“Hey.” You tapped on the guy’s shoulder to grab his attention. He became flirty way too quickly, stepping closer to you and giving his best smirk, yet your eyes were still drifting back to Rafe. 

You saw the exact moment when your best friend noticed your current company. You and Ed were chatting for no more than five minutes, and while he was talking about it being his plans for the night, you saw Rafe getting up from the couch with a frown on his face. He quickly crossed the room, not bothering to check on the girl who was trying to get his attention over the loud music, or say even say something to his friends. 

“What are you doing here?” His brows furrowed even more, his eyes going up and down the guy near you. 

“I’m talking, Rafe. Go back to your company.” You rolled your eyes, looking back at Ed. “So what were you saying? Your frie—” 

“You’re coming with me, Y/N.” Before you could even say anything, you were dragged away to the second floor, where no one could bother you. “What the fuck was that, huh? I told you like a million fucking times to not talk to the guys at these damn parties; they're goin’ to hurt you.” Rafe freed your hand, pacing in front of you and running his own hand through his hair. He was visibly annoyed and pissed, and with the way he was acting, you wanted to push his buttons even more.

"You are my friend, Rafe, and you have no fucking right to tell me who I can and cannot speak to or go out with!" You shouted back, not even in the slightest fear of the flames in his eyes, when his head snapped back towards you. 

"Whether you like it or not, Y/N, I am not going to let any fuckers with bad intentions get near you."  

"Apparently, they are the only ones who are interested in me. You seem to be always busy with all the girls who are ready to climb you.” You laughed even though it hurt you to say it out loud. “I'm sick of your double standards, Rafe. You think I want to look at you with some random girls? You think it’s okay to scare guys away from me and then casually let everyone be all over you?” 

“What the fuck does that mean? You know I am not dating anyone. They can do whatever they want because I have no plans with any of them." He rolled his eyes, already irritated that he was actually fighting with you for the first time. But there was no going back and you both felt it. The constant tension and secret feelings were overflowing and they had to find a way out. “You’re acting like a child, swear to god, babe.”

“Because you're giving me mixed signals and confusing me!” You stepped closer, pointing a finger at his chest. 

“You know the reason why I do this.” Rafe grabbed your wrist, slightly pulling you closer. Your eyes locked on each other, and your faces were so close that you could smell liquor his his breath. You felt the way your stomach dropped when Rafe’s eyes quickly felt to your lips, yet you were still filled with anger. 

"No, I don't! You’re giving me hope on something, you’re being affectionate with me, we’re spending all our time together, but then you just step back as if it was nothing! Just stop playing with my feelings and tell the fucking tr—-“ Before you could even finish your sentence, your body got pushed back and pressed in between the wall and Rafe’s body. His grip on your face was firm yet gentle enough to not hurt you when he brought you closer to him and finally kissed you.

You both moaned into the kiss as if you were surprised and content that it had finally happened. Rafe’s lips moved quickly, easily dominating over you, as he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, asking for permission to slip in. 

“I’m just a friend, huh? You’re driving me fucking insane. You’re mine, don’t you understand it?” He mumbled against your mouth, sliding one hand down your body and at the same time pushing his legs in between your thighs. He just simply wanted to pin you against the wall, but the way his thigh pressed into your pulsing core made you both hiss. “Do you really think I would let anyone kiss you? Touch you? I’m selfish, Y/N, and I don’t like to share anything or anyone.” You felt as if you were high or drunk with the way your body reacted to Rafe’s touches, trying to concentrate on his words but actually only wishing his lips to get back on yours. 

“You let them touch you. That girl was all over you today, and you did nothing to prevent it.” You breathed into his lips, feeling a lazy smirk stretching across his own. Rafe leaned in again, pressing a few quick, wet kisses to your mouth and wrapping one hand harder around your body.

“She was fucking annoying and I tried to get her off of me. I don’t need any of them. My eyes have always been on you. I swear.” Rafe’s hands tugged on your dress, sliding it higher to have more access to your body. “Holy shit, Y/N. I don't know how I was able to be friends with you for so long. I want you so bad.” 

You moaned, your head falling back against the wall, when Rafe’s lips slid down the side of your neck, leaving soft bites and reddish marks. Your own hands reached under his t-shirt, touching his firm abs and scratching his tanned skin until he moaned into your mouth. 

“I was scared to make a move. To scare you away. But you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I cannot pretend to be only your friend." His hands were sliding up and down your thighs, bringing you closer and not pulling his face away from your neck. Your scent has always driven him insane and he couldn’t have enough of you. “Do you feel it? Do you feel how hard you make me, Y/N?” His hands tugged your hips closer, until his bulge was firmly pressing into your leg.  

“Rafe…” You whined, your hips moving on his thigh, which was still pressed in between your legs. The feeling of your underwear getting wetter by the second made you wonder if Rafe could feel it through his pants. “Y-you know that everyone thinks that we’re sleeping together, right?”

“I think we shouldn’t disappoint them, hm?” You felt a smile spreading across his lips and you giggled back at him. Your hands are now tagging the annoying piece of fabric that hid his body from you, not even caring about people that might go to the second floor of Cameron’s house and catch you.

You managed to drag the t-shirt off of Rafe, your mouth instantly getting watery with the image in front of you. Sure, you saw Rafe shirtless countless times at the beach, but knowing that you could shamelessly do whatever you wanted made your whole body tingle. 

“Fuck that.” Before you even knew it, Rafe’s hands easily lifted you up, making your legs automatically wrap around his body. His lips met yours again, and he started blindly moving towards his bedroom. 

Your body bounced on the way-too-soft and way-too-expensive mattress of his king-size bed as he threw you there and went to lock the door. Rafe followed you shortly after, too desperate to keep touching you. His hands slid up your bare thighs, going past the strings of your panties, pushing your dress until it was gathered around your waist. 

“Can I take it off?” He looked at you, his eyes surprisingly soft and completely different from what you'd expected. You just simply nodded, lifting your hands in the air, until the only real item of clothing was taken off you and thrown somewhere in the room. 

Rafe’s eyes took every inch of your exposed skin, his hands gently sliding down your sides. You were only dressed in a simple black set, but for Rafe, it was the sexiest thing in the world. 

He wanted you for so long. Just looking from afar, he was trying to restrict himself from getting closer to you because he had always thought that you deserved someone better. But at the same time, who could treat you better than him? Only Rafe knew everything that you liked and needed, and he was willing to give it to you. 

“You’re so pretty, for fuck’s sake. I’ll be careful with you.” Rafe's body covered yours, his soft lips kissing your neck and going all the way down to your belly, making you gasp. You buried your hands in his hair, moving it away from his face. “I’ll take care of you. I promise I won’t fuck this up.” He looked up at you with his baby blues, and your whole body got covered in goosebumps from the look in his eyes. 

“Please, Rafe.” You whispered, taking his face into your hands and dragging him back on top of you. You two could not stop moaning as your hands began to explore each other's bodies and your lips met once more in a passionate kiss. “I want you.”

“Baby… Can’t even imagine what you’re doing to me.” He groaned against your mouth. The position that you were currently in, with Rafe comfortably in between your slightly spread legs, made his pants-covered erection perfectly press into your dump panties. “Need to be inside of you or else you’ll make me cum in my pants.” 

It became a mess of tugging on each other's clothes while trying to have as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. When you were both naked, Rafe slowed down, holding your face with one firm hand. “Is it really what you want to do? ‘Cause I won’t go back to pretending to be friends anymore.”  

“Just fuck me already, Cameron.” You whispered, not breaking intense eye contact. 

“As you wish, sweetheart.” With these words, Rafe pulled back to reach the nightstand and take a condon. He carelessly threw it near your exposed body and took a few seconds to finally admire your naked form. 

You were basically inviting him to do whatever he wanted with your slightly spread legs, which let him see how wet you already were. That pleading look on your face didn’t help the situation either, making Rafe want to fuck you dumb until his name was the only thing on your mind. 

He looked you up and down a few times before leaning forward, pressing your legs closer to your chest. Rafe’s calloused hands reached to your sensitive breasts, touching nipples with his thumbs, until your eyes rolled back into your head. 

“Are you ready for me, or do you want me to eat you out first, hm?” His soft breath on the side of your neck sent shievers down your body. As much as you wanted to feel his lips on you, it felt like you could not think straight without his dick stretching you out, so you helplessly shook your head. 

“Next time, please. I need you now.” 

He gave you a sly smile and, in a single motion, ripped off the foil, rolled a condom over his throbbing cock, and placed himself at your entrance. You squirmed at the feeling of his tip going up and down your wet slit, gathering your juices and stimulating your sensitive clit. 

“Fuck, so you’re soakin’ my sheets, baby.” He smirked, looking down at your pussy and teasing you more, until a moan of his name escaped from your mouth. “Keep your legs here, okay? ‘N I’ll take care of you.” 

When you felt Rafe's cock slide into you, your eyes flattered before closing completely. It was big. It was bigger than you had ever had before, but it seemed like your body quickly adjusted to him as soon as he bottomed out. With one hand near your head to hold himself up and the other one on your leg, he slowly started moving in and out. 

“Rafe!” You squeaked, digging your nails into your thighs and trying to control yourself.

“Sh-h, ‘s okay. Knew this pussy was made for me, babe.” He moaned through gritted teeth, gradually increasing the speed of his thrusts. Soon, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with muffled moans and Rafe’s praises. His bed was making a noise with every movement, and if you hadn't been too lost in the pleasure, you would’ve thought about other people hearing you. Rafe could not take his gaze away from your face—the way you tried to control yourself but soon lost it when his cock touched that sensitive spot inside of you. Your glossy eyes, hot skin and puffy lips made him go feral, fucking you harder into the matress of his bed.

“That’s right, scream my name. Made ya go dumb for my cock, huh?” He watched in awe at the way you were going insane under him; your release was visibly getting closer with every thrust. You moan even louder, feeling a tight knot form in your lower stomach, and the feeling gradually increased when the base of his cock brushed over your clit. “Squeezin’ me so tight. My good girl... fuck, baby. That’s right, cum for me. I’ve got you.” 

Rafe grabbed both of your hands, showing you to put them around his neck. It made your legs fall from the previous position and you weakly put them around his waist. Rafe finally lowered his face closer to you, catching your lips in a wet and sloppy kiss, still pounding into you roughly and steadily. 

“I-I can’t, Rafe, please!”

You particularly breathe the same air, moan into each other’s mouths, hooded eyes locked on when the orgasm washes over you almost simultaneously. Without even realizing it, you dragged your nails down Rafe’s sweaty back, leaving red marks that he will proudly show off tomorrow. His hips slowly pushed into you while you were still pulsating around his cock, enjoying your own release. Just the feeling of your pussy milking him could’ve made him cum again. 

“Rafe…” You whisper, your eyes now closed and your head feeling all fuzzy and warm. Rafe slowly slipped out of you, walking away to throw out a condom. You whined at the empty feeling and the coldness that the lack of his touch had brought. 

“‘M right here, baby. You did amazing.” As he came back on top of you, now wearing boxers, he placed kisses on the heated skin of your neck, his hand sliding down your side to soothe the aching muscles of your legs. “My pretty girl... Gosh, now I’m not letting you go. Like ever.” 

You giggle, draping your arms over his shoulders and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “So all I had to do was talk to some random guy for you to get all angry and kiss me?” 

“Don’t remind me of that. I just realised that I might actually lose you.” Rafe whispered the last part, nuzzling into your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist until there was no space left between your naked bodies. 

“You won’t lose me, I promise.” You hugged him back, enjoying the comfortable silence that fell into the room, until you both fell asleep in each other's arms. 

[littlelamy]

so this maybe a bit much but how about kook reader who’s parents are forcing her to get a job because of how much money she spends this kinda goes with the shopaholic one I also sent sorry but anyways when she finds out her parents are making her work she runs to Rafe to complain💖

a/n: i love this idea🥰 thank you for sending a request!

you stormed into rafe’s house without knocking, the heels of your sandals clicking loudly on the hardwood floor. rafe didn’t even flinch from his spot on the couch, though he lazily glanced up at you.

you dropped your designer purse on the floor with a huff and crossed your arms. “you’re not going to believe what my parents are making me do.”

rafe paused the game on tv, his lips quirking into that familiar cocky smile. “oh, this should be good. what’s got you all worked up this time, princess?”

you didn’t bother with the attitude he was throwing your way. you were too furious. "they're making me get a job."

for a split second, you could see the surprise flash in his eyes, but then rafe threw his head back and laughed. a full, rich laugh that sent heat rushing to your cheeks. this wasn’t funny. you stormed over to the couch and pushed at his legs with your hands. “it’s not a joke, rafe! i’m serious!”

“hold on, hold on,” he choked out between laughs, grabbing your wrists and pulling you closer until you were standing between his legs. “you? a job? yeah, right. what’re you supposed to be doing? selling clothes at the country club?”

you glared down at him, but the heat in his eyes as he pulled you closer made your anger falter. “no,” you shot back. “something way worse. they want me to work at my dad’s office. like, answering phones and…and filing paperwork.”

rafe gave you an amused look, his grip on your wrists loosening as he leaned back against the couch. “you—filing paperwork? yeah, that’s not happening.”

“exactly!” you burst out, relieved that at least someone understood. “i told them i could just cut back on the shopping, but they said i have to learn ‘responsibility’ and ‘work ethic’ and all this other bullshit. like, i didn’t grow up to file papers in some dusty office!”

rafe raised an eyebrow, looking far too entertained for your liking. “i mean, you have been running through their credit cards pretty hard lately, babe.”

you rolled your eyes and pulled your hands away from him, pacing a little as you vented. “i know, but it’s not like they can’t afford it! we’re kooks, for crying out loud. they’ve got money for days, and they’re freaking out over a few shopping sprees.”

rafe watched you with a bemused expression, his arms draped lazily over the back of the couch. “so, what? you want me to talk to them? convince them to back off?”

you stopped pacing and turned to him, your frustration simmering as you met his gaze. “no, I don’t want you to talk to them. i just…i needed to get out of there before I lost my mind. I needed to talk to someone who actually gets it.”

rafe tilted his head, his eyes darkening with something you couldn’t quite place. “oh, I get it,” he said slowly, standing up from the couch and closing the distance between you. “i get that you’re used to getting whatever you want, whenever you want it.” his hands found your waist, his grip possessive as he pulled you closer.

you narrowed your eyes, but the heat between your bodies was already melting your resolve. “what’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, trying to sound annoyed, but your voice came out softer than you intended.

rafe smirked, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he leaned in. “it means you’re used to running to me when you don’t get your way,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “and I usually give you what you want, don’t I?”

your heart raced as his fingers trailed along your sides, sending a shiver down your spine. he was right—you did run to him. rafe was the only one who never told you “no,” the one person who didn’t try to rein you in. he liked your wild side.

but you weren’t ready to admit that out loud. Instead, you tilted your chin up defiantly. “and what’s wrong with that? you like it, don’t you?”

rafe’s eyes darkened even more, and his grip tightened slightly. “oh, I do,” he admitted, his lips grazing your neck. “but this little job thing… maybe it won’t be so bad.”

you blinked, pulling back enough to look up at him. “what are you talking about?”

his smirk returned, more devious this time. “i'm saying maybe you could use the distraction. get your parents off your back, make them think you’re turning over a new leaf. play the good little daughter for a while.”

your eyes narrowed, searching his face for any sign that he was joking. “you’re serious?”

rafe shrugged, his hands still resting on your hips. “why not? do the bare minimum, show up, file a couple of papers or whatever, and then come back to me when you’re done. it’ll be like a game.”

you considered it for a moment, the thought of playing along to keep your parents off your case while still getting what you wanted. you didn’t love the idea of working—any job sounded awful—but if it meant keeping them off your back, maybe Rafe was right. maybe you could pull this off.

“you think I could do that?” you asked, biting your lip.

rafe chuckled, his hands sliding lower. “babe, you can do anything you set your mind to. just as long as you keep running back to me afterward.”

your pulse quickened at the heat in his voice, and for the first time since your parents had dropped the bomb on you, you felt a little more in control. maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“fine,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “but if this blows up in my face, i’m blaming you.”

rafe grinned, pulling you in close. “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[envy-of-the-apple]

A Mutual Hatred

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

finally kicking out the fic that’s been a draft for three years:) ahaha...aha...ha if its obvious this was written for another character...no it wasn’t

(Warnings: implied non-con, implied drugging, college!AU, dark content)

Gojo Satoru did not like you. 

He didn’t make it obvious. But, you could see the way he slowly inched away from you. And the fake fake smile he stretched on his lips anytime he was forced to talk to you. 

It was a little offensive. You never obsessed about people liking you, but the fact that someone super popular would rather not exist when you were around...well, it stung. 

It could’ve been worse. At least he didn’t openly admit his hatred of you. It was just the tiny, little things he did that made you know there were boundaries. 

But you weren’t Gojo’s friend, you were Geto’s friend. Which meant, as much as you’d rather not to go the party celebrating their latest win, you were still dragged anyway. 

A loud cheer erupted across from the room. Still nursing your drink, you gave Geto a look. 

“The baseball team,” He sighed, “Shit, sorry. I didn’t know they were gonna be here. I know they’re fucking crazy but they won’t bother you. I promise.” 

You have to laugh at his genuinely apologetic look. You wave him away. 

“It’s fine,” You say, “I don’t mind, Besides, they look....fun.” 

Your words come a bit too late as you spot the team captain trying to do a handstand on top of an extremely fragile vase. That would end well. 

“I’m glad they’re supportive of you, at the very least,” 

Geto is sighing, ready to apologize again. He promised you this would be low-key, just the basketball team and a few mutual friends. 

Now it’s just the basketball team, along with a hundred other people. 

If anything you’re impressed at how quickly the numbers formed. The music was loud, booming, nearly blowing out your ears. People were dancing, at the very least, moving together in disjointed clumps because you are pretty sure alcohol doesn’t help you with dancing. 

Voices tear you away from the scene, and your gaze settles on Geto’s volleyball squad. They eagerly start to wave him over. He shakes his head. You frown. 

“Don’t babysit me,” You tell him, “Go. Have fun.” 

He gives you a look. You roll your eyes. 

“I promise I’ll be fine. The only reason I’m here is for the free beer.” 

You’re planning on throwing your cup of cheap booze away the second you can, but you don’t want him to think he has to guard you for the night. That’s who Geto is, a self-proclaimed protector. You don’t even know him all that well but he’s still more than happy to forfeit hanging out with his friends to sit here with you. He’s a good person. 

You still can’t understand why a guy like him would ever be friends with Gojo. 

They had been childhood friends. Best friends. Stayed together until college. Maybe it was just proximity that kept them so close, because you couldn’t imagine it were their personalities. 

Geto sighs, reluctantly slipping away. 

“If you need anything, lemme know.” You nod, keeping your smile on as he gives you one last look before joining his friends. 

Finally alone, you drop the cup in the trash as soon as you can.

At least, you thought you were alone. 

“Too strong?” 

You jump at his voice. Gojo tilts his head, gazing at you with pretty blue eyes. His glasses are off tonight. 

“I-” you stumble, not really sure what to say. He was going out of his way to talk to you? “I was just-” 

“Don’t worry, I get it,” he laughs, light and airy and you’re starting to get why he has a fanclub, “Nazumaki has shitty tastes. Wanna try what I’m having?” 

He hands you an opened can. Still a bit confused, you accept. It’s slightly better. With a fruity aftertaste. When you go to hand it back, he waves you off. 

“Take it, I gotta’ drive home.” He reasons. 

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, you accept. This was...weird. Really really weird. Gojo Satoru didn’t like you. Not even the slightest. Then, why was he being so...nice?

Or maybe you had it all wrong? You were overreacting? 

“Congrats on winning your game.” You tell him, when the silence stretches on for far too long.

“Yeah,” he responds, “you went?” 

You shake your hade. 

“Too busy,” you responded sheepishly, “but I watched the highlights. You guys were awesome.” 

“A huge improvement from fall semester.” he agrees. “Fuck, you should’ve seen us those first couple of weeks. Like a bunch of....coked up squirrels or something. Horrible passes, jumping all over the place, just-” 

He’s cut off by your laugh. “I’m sorry...coked up squirrels?” 

“You didn’t see our freshmen,” he argues, “It’s a great analogy.” 

“I’ll take your word for it.” You smile.

 It’s definitely the alcohol. On his part too. But conversation flows like you are two old friends. It’s so easy to talk to him. Laugh with him. For a moment, you almost forgotten how much disdain Gojo Satoru used to show you. 

Almost.

“You know....for a while, I thought you hated me.” You confessed, because you had to bring it up eventually. The suspense was killing you, eating you alive.

“What?” 

“I mean.” The floor looks weird. You don’t like the carpet. “On campus, you were always so stand-offish. Like you were mad at me.” 

He shoots you an amused look. “I didn’t hate you. I guess I was kinda’ just pissed.” 

You scrunch your forehead, “Oh, you were? Why?” 

“’Cuz you had a nice ass and I wasn’t allowed to touch it.” 

You blink. And then the world tilts sideways. 

What?

Hands grip your shoulders, holding you upright. 

“Woah, baby. I think you had a bit too much. Let’s go lay down.” Gojo purrs into your ear, as he starts leading you away. 

You weren’t drunk. You knew that. You barely had anything. You make a meager struggle against his unwavering body as your dazed mind starts to piece what’s happening. 

You nearly stumble into another group of people. Gojo takes the reigns immediately, apologizing on behalf of his ‘drunk friend who doesn’t know limits’. It’s so deranged that at one point you’re convinced you’re having an out-of-body experience. That this isn’t real. A dream. A nightmare. 

But this is real. He shows you the moment he shoves you into a closet, shutting the door behind him.

“Wh-what are you doing-” your pleas are interrupted by soft lips. You’ve never once thought about kissing Gojo but his lips are like pillows. It’s his strength that suffocates you. Biting and licking up your blood. 

“Would’ve done this sooner, but your bodyguard would never leave you alone for long. The bastard. Keeping you all to himself.” 

Bodyguard? He’s kissing you again, groping you through your clothes and you can’t stand to even think. Geto, it eventually clicks. His helpful protectiveness. You-you thought he was like that with everyone. 

Something, a second wind maybe, kicks up at you. You struggle against his large hands. Gojo grunts, as though your desperation was a minor inconvenience for him. 

“Stop it, fucking stop.” He hisses, pulling at your hair. You yelp. “Stop fighting this when we both know you-” 

The door opens, swinging in blaring light and the sounds of the party with it. Satoru stills, blinking up at the newcomer. You look up too, heart crackling with relief. 

Geto stands there, chest heaving, and it takes a minute for you to realize he must have ran here. You open your mouth, nothing but a warbled plea comes out. 

You expect him to do something. To grab Gojo by the hair and pull. To save you. 

But he doesn’t. He just stands there. 

When you search his eyes. You don’t find anger. You just see hunger. 

Gojo’s pretty laugh rings through the air. Undisturbed. Expectant. 

“What took you so long?” 

[vanesycho]

Summary: You are playing Whisper Game with Nct127, what could be bad? Until you forget Haechan's real name and this is pissed him off. And if he got you alone, he will do something so as not to make you forget his real name.

Warnings:Smut,fingering,getting caught(?)

wc:1,7k

──────────────────────

“Come on Y/n, this is going to be fun.”

You looked at Jungwoo’s pleading gaze, all of you gathered at home sipping your drinks when Jungwoo said he was bored and wanted to play a game. Everyone admitted they were bored and said they wanted to play, except you of course.

“But I’m really bad at this game, I’m not good at lip reading.”

“Don’t spoil it Y/n, no one is good at this game, the point is to have fun.”

Everyone looked at you with curiosity as Doyoung spoke, waiting for your answer. Frankly, you didn’t want to just sit around while everyone else played the game, so…

“Okay then, let’s play.”

──────────────────────

A few minutes had passed, you didn't expect to have this much fun. You held your stomach that ached from laughing as you looked at Mark and Haechan.

"Your favorite member."

You looked at Haechan's lips that were pursed forward as he spelled. He caught your gaze for a brief moment and wet his lips before repeating the sentence.

"Your favorite member!! Oh really Mork you can't be that stupid."

"Did you say Mark stupid?!"

Mark stood up laughing, the other members stopped him laughing as they realized the time was up. Haechan took off his headphone and grumbled as he sat down.

"Oh I can't believe we're going to get the least points."

"Don't worry you won't get it while I'm here."

You sat on one of the chairs and put on your headphones. Jaehyun sat across from you.

“Are you ready?”

You shook your head, he smiled at you briefly and you started the game.

You knew the first few words easily, to your own surprise, even if it was because of Jaehyun’s explanation. When you got to the third word, Jaehyun laughed and you looked at him carefully when he kept his seriousness and moved his lips.

“Haechan’s real name.”

You frowned, were you reading it right or did Haechan say it?

“Haechan what?”

“Haechan’s real name. Name.”

You paused for a moment and looked at Haechan, he laughed at that. He said something but you couldn't hear it because of the music.

"Haechan's name? Haechan...?"

You could see some of the members around you laughing, you tried again trying to make sense of it.

"Aah Haechan's real name? It's-"

You paused and pressed your lips together when you realized you forgot, you didn't usually call him by his real name and you got confused because of the loud music.

"Wait a minute what's Haechan's name!"

Everyone was laughing and looking at Haechan, Haechan was looking at you with a fixed look. No, you didn't forget his real name just now?

You thought for a moment and when it came to you, you hid your face in your hands in embarrassment, then you raised your head and answered.

"Lee Donghyuck. Ah really..."

When the time was up, you took off your headphones and when you turned around, everyone had gotten off the couch and were lying on the floor, exhausted from laughing.

"Forgetting Haechan's real name was my favorite part Y/n."

You closed your eyes with a whimper as Johnny spoke, and when you took your place, your eyes searched for Haechan. You let out a sigh of relief when you saw him laughing and having fun with the members as if nothing had happened. You were grateful that at least he didn't get mad at you.

──────────────────────

"It's too late, stay here tonight. You can leave tomorrow after breakfast."

It was a common occurrence for you to stay in the same house as them, it wasn't strange, you were all close and they always make room for you.

"So...whose room will I steal tonight?"

"Mine."

When Haechan spoke, you turned to him, he was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed.

"Haechan, are you sure?"

He spoke without taking his eyes off you.

"Sure, I'll prepare the room for you."

There was something strange about him but you couldn't make sense of it, you decided not to think too much about it and walked towards his room.

You opened the door and saw Haechan packing some of his own important things, you sat on the edge of your bed and watched him.

“Hey, we’re not going to get on bad terms because of what happened today, right? It was just that the music was too loud and I felt like I completely stopped thinking.”

You heard a hysterical laugh come out, Haechan came across you and leaned over as he placed his hands on either side of you, you lifted your head and watched him. He looked at your lips for a moment, his eyes going up to yours and he whispered.

“What’s my name?”

“What?”

“My name.Y/n.”

“Haec-”

He pushed you by the shoulders and got on top of you, you looked at him nervously as he placed his knee between your legs. When he leaned down again, he moved towards your neck, you stopped breathing when you felt his hot breath, he whispered into your ear.

“What were you saying?”

You turned your head away as your ear tingled with his breath, Haechan grabbed your chin with one hand and made you look at him.

“It’s way past time to play games, are you trying to test my patience?”

You shook your head in a negative tone, he couldn’t be doing all of this just because you forgot his name. Right? Well, if it was Haechan, it was possible.

“Donghyuck.”

Haechan grinned as his real name came out of his mouth for perhaps the first time, leaning in and pressing a kiss behind your ear.

“See? It wasn’t that hard, was it?”

His fingertips began to caress your body through your clothes. You didn’t even realize you were holding your breath, you let out a deep breath, Haechan continued, enjoying your reaction.

“Dongyuck, please…”

He stopped his movements and looked at you, his gaze not scaring you but stirring something inside you. He couldn’t look this good when he was serious.

“Mark and Johnny’s room is right next to us.”

“So? Should that scare me?”

He started to press small kisses to your neck. He spoke as his warm breath hit your neck again.

“If you’re quiet, we won’t get in trouble, you can do this, right?”

You shook your head when he looked at you questioningly. He grinned and you held your breath so that you wouldn’t make a sound when he pressed his knee to your pussy.

“See? You can do it, baby.”

You watched him take off your shorts, shivering under his touch as his hands brushed your skin lightly. He leaned in closer and moved closer to your lips, surprising you as you were expecting him to kiss you, he pulled your panties aside and began to gently caress you with his fingertips.

“Hyuck-”

He grinned at your reaction and spoke against your lips.

"Ah...I didn't even touch you properly and fuck...you're soaking wet."

When he effortlessly inserted a finger inside you, you buried your head in Haechan's neck to keep from moaning, Haechan took a deep breath as he listened to your moanings. When he started to speed up the movements of his finger, you couldn't help but moan loudly.

"Ah-ah be quiet. We don't want them to know how I made you moan like that with just one finger."

He grabbed your chin with his free hand and made you look at him. He started kissing your lips, adding a second finger as he started to suck on your lower lip. You moaned into his mouth, your voice not coming out as loud because of his kiss.

After a while, you felt your stomach tighten, you spoke with a teary voice as the pleasure inside you increased.

"Hyuck- I..."

He knew that you were getting close before you even had to finish the sentence, and he was going to give you what you wanted. But the sound of knocking on the door made you turn your head in fear.

You looked at Haechan, his fingers still moving inside you.

"Y/n? Do you know where Haechan is?"

Your heart raced in fear when you heard Yuta's voice. Haechan leaned in and whispered in your ear.

"Answer."

You shook your head in negative.

"I can't..P-please stop for now."

When he added his third finger, you screamed with this unexpected movement, quickly covering your mouth with your hand. Haechan ignored this and laughed at your reaction, keep moving his fingers inside you.

"Y/n? Are you okay? Did something happen?"

You buried your head in Haechan's shoulder again, feeling his breath on your ear again.

"Either you answer now or I'll stop and never make you cum."

You lifted your head and tried to catch your breath, doing everything you could to make your voice sound right.

"I'm okay, it's just...Ah..I, I hit my foot on the corner of the table."

He chuckled at the excuse you found. You pressed your lips together as he sped up his fingers.

"Come on, come on my fingers. You can do it baby, right?"

Instead of answering, you continued to moan, the lack of sound from Yuta at the door frightened you, but the pleasure overcame that. You let yourself go under Haechan.And finally came his fingers, you closed your eyes and tried to collect yourself, you felt his lips on yours. When you opened your eyes you saw him licking his fingers that were full of your cum, the sight made you turn your head away in embarrassment.

"We were getting caught."

This time, he kissed your cheek and said with a smile.

"But we weren't caught, were we?"

"You were caught Haechan. I've been waiting for you for minutes, don't come to my room and stay there. After all, you guys can sleep in the same bed now."

When you heard footsteps, you realized Yuta was gone now. You buried your face in the pillow and made a tearful sound. You spoke angrily, but your voice came out muffled.

"I can't believe this, I'll never be able to look Yuta in the face again."

He placed his pillow next to you and leaned back, putting his arms behind his head. You looked at his comfort in surprise. He turned his head to you and looked down at your body, seeing that you still had no shorts on.

"So...Round two?"

──────────────────────

I really messed up on this one👍🏻 this was my first time writing smut (as it's obvious) I hope you guys liked it bcuz idk😭

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x shy fem reader

warnings: lots of cute first date jitters, reader is clumsy, also a lot more cheese 🧀 — take your lactaid besties.

part one | part three

let’s go, don’t wait masterlist

a/n: i’m honestly blown away by all the sweet comments on that first little blurb. shy reader is 1000% me, so this is very near and dear to my heart. i hope y’all like this one just as much! also big kisses to my lovely angel @undead-supernova for looking this over for me <3

“This looks stupid.”

You huff, glancing at your reflection before rushing back over to your closet for the 3rd time in a span of twenty minutes.

But Nancy grabs your wrist from before you can make it there, pulling you down onto the bed beside her.

“Everything you’ve tried on has been cute… I don’t see the problem here.”

You groan and flop back onto the mattress, covering your face with your hands.

“I wasn’t exactly trying to go for cute, Nance.”

Your words are muffled behind your palms, but she gets your message loud and clear.

“I know you want to impress him, but my best advice is to just be yourself… that’s why he asked you out in the first place, right?”

You sigh, uncovering your face to look up at her. She has a brow raised, and as much as you’d hate to admit it— you know she’s right.

“Do you always have to be right about everything?” you puff out a small laugh and she beams, nudging your knee with hers.

“Of course, I am the brains of this operation, remember?”

You roll your eyes fondly before returning to your feet, smoothing over the denim of your skirt when you meet your reflection once more.

“Oh god, what about make up?!”

You only managed to change your shirt one last time before Nancy had to practically barricade your closet door shut with her body. Reminding you that, once again, you looked great.

It doesn’t help much to soothe that little voice in the back of your head that disagrees— but the rumble of an engine and a blaring guitar riff distracts from those thoughts momentarily as the panic finally starts to set in.

“Shit, shit, shit! He’s here already?” you squeak, glancing over at your beside clock.

6:45 pm.

He was 15 minutes early.

“He’s early… color me impressed.” She grins before peeking out your curtains.

“I’m… I’m not ready, Nance.”

Your heart is about to pound out of your chest and your palms are beginning to sweat. She steps away from the window to put her hands on your shoulders, face full of determination.

“Just breathe, okay? I’ll go down and let him in, you just take a minute and come down when you’re ready.”

You nod dumbly, eyes widening further when the doorbell rings.

Eddie’s here… actually standing on your front porch. Bouquet of flowers grasped tightly in his own sweaty palms.

“Thanks, Nance.”

She just gives you a reassuring smile before starting down the stairs and opening the front door. To say Eddie is surprised when Nancy Wheeler appears at your front door instead of you is an understatement.

“Uh… please don’t tell me I’ve got the wrong address,” he steps back to take a look at the number on the house again.

“No, you’re at the right place. She’s just finishing getting ready, come on in.”

Nancy can see the way his shoulders sag in relief before he steps past the threshold. Dark eyes wandering around the interior of your entry way in utter curiosity. Pictures of you and your parents line the walls, but one in particular catches his attention.

You’re smiling up at the camera, eyes scrunched closed behind the round frame of your glasses— with your two front teeth missing.

The sight has him grinning despite himself, already catching more of a glimpse of the girl that’s been on his mind for the better part of that year.

“So… where are you taking her?” Nancy asks casually, leaning against the doorframe of your kitchen.

Eddie turns then, still clutching the flowers tightly in his fist.

“The Palace… and then Benny’s. But don’t worry, I’ll have her back before 11 pm. Scout’s honor.” He grins, raising his other hand in a mock salute.

You can hear their voices floating up the stairs, which only seems to worsen the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. You take one last look in the mirror to straighten your top and make sure your eyeliner wasn’t smudged before you turn the knob and make your way down the hall.

The creak of the floorboards alerts them both to your presence when you slowly begin to descend the stairs. Your hand grips the railing tightly, eyes finally lifting once you reach the landing.

“Wow,” he whispers in dumbstruck awe.

You can feel your skin warm under the intensity of his gaze, tucking your lower lip between your teeth to hide a grin.

But the sweet moment is quickly squashed when your foot catches on the edge of the step, and you go tumbling forward. Eddie drops the flowers in his haste before closing that short distance between you to catch you in his arms. Your bodies collide, much like what happened earlier in the cafeteria.

Only this time he doesn’t let you go right away.

“Steady now,” he chuckles, and your eyes can’t help but drift lower to stare at his lips. “You okay?”

You nod, not fully trusting your voice when he’s so close like this, you swear he must be able to hear how fast your heart is fluttering beneath your ribs.

“Oh goddammit, the flowers.” Eddie groans, making sure you’ve got your footing before he bends down to pick up the crumpled bouquet.

“Uh, I promise they weren’t like this when I got here...”

He hands them out to you with a sheepish grin, the apples of his cheeks now flushed a soft shade of pink. And from this close proximity you can see the faint freckles dotted along the bridge of his nose.

Man, he sure is pretty…

“They’re beautiful,” you smile, finally finding your voice. “Thank you.”

“… well, you two should probably get going, right?”

You had almost forgotten Nancy was even there.

“Oh what about—” you gesture to the bouquet in your hands, but she quickly cuts you off.

“I’ll put those in some water and lock up for you, sound good?”

You don’t have much time for protest when she carefully takes the flowers from your grasp and nudges you right into Eddie’s chest. You apologize between small giggles when he steadies you again, and Nancy disappears into the kitchen.

His eyes are almost sparkling in childlike delight at the sound of your laughter, and it’s something he’d like to continue hearing for a long time. Eddie guides you both toward the front door. His rings clink against the knob when he swings it open, taking a slight bow before motioning you forward.

“Your chariot awaits, mi’ lady.”

The Palace is packed by the time you arrive, but for a Friday night in Hawkin’s— that’s no surprise.

Young teens dart between the different games with renewed excitement while Keith watches on with a bored expression. Eddie’s hand is held loosely in your own, fingers intertwined while you decide what to play first.

You both agree on air hockey, allowing him to tug you toward the table with a newfound pep in his step. He hands you the blue paddle, teasing telling you that red is always his color before he crouches down to slip two coins in the slot.

“Prepare to be demolished, sweetheart,” he grins cheekily.

Your stomach flips at those seemingly innocent words, and Eddie silently pats himself on the back for how flustered he’s already made you. That’s not something he’s used to, making a pretty girl fumble over her words. But it’s something he’s decided he wants to see a lot more of tonight.

Eddie ends up winning two rounds of air hockey, but his victories were entirely due to the fact that you were so distracted. Poised across from him, you spent more time admiring the way his tongue poked out from between his lips in concentration— or when he had to pull his wild hair back into a bun when it kept flying into his face.

Not that you would ever mention that little fact to him.

“What’s next?” you ask, unable to hide your glee when he takes your hand without hesitation this time.

“Have you tried Dragon’s Lair?”

He nods his head over to the game that was just recently abandoned in a fit of rage by short boy with dark hair. If you were being honest, skee ball and air hockey were more your speed when it came to arcade games. But the look of absolute delight on his face has you willing to try regardless.

And just as you suspected, you’re terrible at it.

You’re barely able to get past that first level without dying repeatedly but Eddie continues to give you an encouraging smile while he leans against the machine. He adores the way your lips are pouted in a slight frown when the dragon engulfs the knight in flames again.

“Here,” he mumbles, sliding in behind you. “Let me help.”

His arms cage you in against the machine, and you can feel the heat from his chest seeping through the thin cotton of your blouse. Ringed fingers gently hover over where yours are stationed on the controls, and in your nervous state you don’t notice the way his fingers tremble slightly.

Eddie guides your hands with ease, all but playing the game for you at this point. But your focus is no longer on the dragons and knights. They instead settle on his hands, and how they completely engulf yours in size. And the way his chain bracelet rattles against your skin with each flick of his wrist on the joystick.

They continue to travel a little higher, noticing how the muscles in his forearms contract each time he pushes that red button in rapid succession. It has your mind wandering to places that it definitely shouldn’t be…

Like how his hands would feel gripping your hips…

Stop that.

When you take a shuddering breath, you get another whiff of his spicy cologne when he leans his head forward. The faint hint of tobacco and mint still lingers on his lips when he blows a breath out in frustration when he finally looses that round.

The words GAME OVER flash across the screen in brightly colored letters, and you feel a little disappointed when he begins to remove himself from you. But you’re suddenly feeling a little bold, gently turning to grab his hand before looking up at him.

“Show me again?” you mumble, chewing nervously on your lower lip.

Eddie grins down at you, eyes flicking down to your mouth for a fleeting moment. But his next move has your brain about to melt out of your ears.

He takes your lower lip between his thumb and forefinger, carefully removing it from between your teeth. He allows the pad of his thumb to graze over your lip while the other slips around your waist. Eddie guides you back around by your hips, quickly resuming his position behind you.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92 @blckbrrybasket @your-nightmaredoll @missmarch-99 @fandom-princess-forevermore

[cameronsprincess]

— summary: kook princess. kook prince. perfect match, right? wrong. you hated rafe cameron and everything he stood for. and he hated you. so when your fathers spring it on the two of you that they’d arranged for the two of you to be married, both of your worlds are flipped upside down.

— CW: 18+ only !! cocaine use, alcohol consumption, sexual innuendo, strong language.

likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated <3

prev parts: one

series masterlist ⤑ taglist form

3 days later…

RAFE

“So.. Let me get this straight. Your dad, and Y/N’s dad, have formed some kind of plan to merge both companies.. And you have to marry Y/N for it to be the most successful?”

I snort. Leave it to Topper to have to go over the scenario a hundred fucking times before it finally clicks in his thick skull. I ignore him, grabbing the rolled up hundred dollar bill off the glass table and place it under my right nostril. Leaning forward, i place the other end of the rolled bill at the end of the perfectly formed white line, sniffing up the substance before dropping the bill and flopping back into the soft, white couch. Fuck, I love the burn this shit leaves behind. The way it makes my body tingle, clearing my mind of any bullshit I don’t want to think about.

Topper tries ruining my high again. “Rafe. C’mon man, we have to talk about this. What’re you going to do?”

I sit up, my eyes narrowed into thin slits at him. “There’s nothing to fucking talk about, Top. My dad and her dad have already signed our lives away. I’m supposed to marry the stuck up bitch in less than a month. I don’t want to think about it, so drop it.”

Topper groans, but thankfully, he drops the subject. I don’t know what he expects me to say. I don’t want to marry her. Marriage is the last thing I pictured myself ever doing, but even if I had decided to settle down one day, start a family, it sure as Hell wouldn’t have been her I chose. Y/N Y/L/N is the bane of my existence, and my polar opposite.

Where I like to have fun, and am riddled with issues from head to toe — thanks dad — she’s boring. She doesn’t get out, and she is issue free. Her family didn’t fuck her life up like mine did — well, until now I guess — and she doesn’t even want to change her ways. She’s stuck in the mindset of being the perfect princess. My dad always praised her when we were growing up. “Be more like Y/N, Rafe.” “Why can’t you act like Y/N? She’s a good girl.” and my favorite line “I wish I had Y/N as a daughter instead of you as my fuck up son”.

I shake the thoughts to the back of my mind. The last thing I want to do right now is think of fucking Y/N Y/L/N and the fact that come this weekend, the entire island will know we’re getting married. That’ll really fuck up my chances with getting any pussy before this wedding. That’s another thing. The girls still a fucking virgin. I mean, who the fuck is still a virgin at twenty-one years old? Y/N fucking Y/L/N, that’s who.

“You have to admit though, she is hot. And she’s a virgin, how longs it been since you fucked a virgin?” Top says, amusement lacing his tone as he lightly punches at my shoulder.

I roll my eyes. “She’s not fucking hot, Topper. She’s a bitch.”

Lie.

Y/N is a lot of things, but unattractive isn’t one of them. I would be lying to myself if I said she wasn’t fucking gorgeous. But I’ll never admit that out loud.

“C’mon Rafe. Lighten up. Maybe it won’t be so bad”

I bark out a laugh at that. It’s going to be fucking miserable. A loveless marriage. Handcuffs that I can’t break free from, even if I wanted to.

“Topper. Fucking drop it.”

He opens his mouth to speak but thankfully, Kelce comes barging through the front door. I quickly stand from the couch, making my way to my other best friend and mouthing a silent “thank you” to him for arriving when he did.

“Y’all ready?” Kelce asks, his eyes darting between Topper and I. Thankful for the intrusion and opportunity to drop this entire fucking subject, nod my head. “Let’s go”

-

The boys and I enter the Island Club. We come here quite often to just get drunk and forget about our shitty days. I am thankful for this tradition right about now. This whole marriage thing has had me stressed out for the last three days. I remember when Ward first came to me about it. He had told me that it was time for me to step up and do something good for the family.

“Son, a word?”

I roll my eyes, glancing at the girl laid beside me I tell her, “I’ll be right back”

My dad chuckles, his eyes glancing behind me and at the brunette that wears only my T-shirt and a pair of underwear. “Actually, you can get dressed and go. Rafe won’t be back up here until late tonight”

I roll my eyes, opening my mouth to protest, but my dad’s stern look has me quickly shutting my mouth. There’s never a point in arguing with Ward Cameron. He will win every single fucking time.

Turning to face Sofia, I give her a small smile. “Sorry, I’ll call you later”

She rolls her eyes but nods her head. She grabs her things from my floor before slipping on her white Nike tennis shoes and walking toward me. She positions all of her things in her left hand, her right palm pressed firmly against my chest as she leans up on her tiptoes and presses a long kiss to my lips.

My father clearing his throat has me pushing her back softly. “I’ll call you.” I say firmly. She turns and exits my room. Leaving me all alone with my dad.

“You won’t be calling her” He states.

My narrowed eyes find his. “And why is that?”

“Because, son. You’re about to step up and do something good for this family, and I won’t have you fucking it up by sleeping around with some bartender from the club.”

I scoff. “What’re you-” I begin to ask, but he cuts me off.

“You’re going to be marrying Y/N Y/L/N.” He says matter-of-factly.

“Rafe? You good bro?”

The sound of Kelce’s voice rips me from the memory. I slowly turn my head to face him, his dark brown eyes filled with slight concern.

Clearing my throat, I say, “Yeah. I’m good. Lets get fucking drunk”

Kelce and Topper nod their heads and begin making their way toward the bar. I follow them closely behind, but freeze in my tracks when I see her. Sofia. I never did call her, and it’s been three days since she was last in my room. I know she’s going freak out on me. If she doesn’t, i’ll be surprised.

I clear my throat and roll my neck before continuing my way up to the bar with my friends. I finally reach Kelce and Topper, they’re already ordering. “Rafe, whatcha drinking bro?” Kelce asks while looking behind his shoulder at me.

I open my mouth to speak but Sofia’s narrowed eyes landing on mine the second she hears my name has me clamping my mouth shut. I give her an awkward nod, debating on just leaving. That’s not who I am though, I don’t run away like a scared little bitch, so instead I order, “Whiskey. Neat.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’ll call me, huh? It’s been three days, Rafe. What the fuck?”

I hear Kelce and Topper snort out a laugh. I glare at the back of both their heads. I’m friends with fucking children. Turning my attention back to the short brunette, I sigh heavily. “Situations changed, Sofie.”

She scoffs at that. “Well, it would be nice to know that you had just planned on fucking me and never calling again. I wouldn’t have ever looked at you twice.”

Topper slings an arm around my shoulder. “I’m sure he would have called had he not found out later that day that’s he’s marrying Y/N Y/L-”

I throw my elbow into Topper’s side, making his arm fall from my shoulder as he groans in pain. “What the fuck was that for?” He demands.

I roll my eyes, and put my focus back on Sofia. “Look, like I said. Situations changed. I won’t apologize for not calling you, we never said it would be more than sex between us anyways”

Her mouth falls open and tears begin to well up in her chocolate brown eyes. I sigh. This is the thing about women. They always expect so much more than you’re willing to give. I never planned on having a relationship with Sofia, and she knows that. But now, I’m the bad guy because she was all but thrown out of my house and I never called.

She lifts her eyes toward the ceiling above her, blinking back her tears before her eyes find mine again. “Well, good to know. Let me get those drinks for you guys.”

I let out a deep exhale, turning to face Topper and Kelce. They both have shit eating grins on their faces. “What?” I snap.

Topper chuckles. “Nothing. You better hope she doesn’t spit in your drinks all night” He jokes.

I run a hand down my face. Tonight was supposed to help me unwind, not cause more fucking unwanted stress. “I never fed her lines of false hope, so I don’t know why she’s freaking the fuck out.”

Kelce chuckles this time, slapping a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t they all freak the fuck out when it comes to you? I mean c’mon Rafe. You can’t ever sleep with a girl without her expecting more.. I just hope you’re prepared for the long list that’s going to come for your throat when this engagement is announced.”

I sigh for what feels like the thousandth time tonight. He’s right. I have never been serious about any of the girls I slept with. They all wanted more, but every single time I felt they were getting to attached, I stopped calling or texting them. It was better that way. I didn’t want anything serious, and now, I’m being forced into something super serious. Fuck, my life really sucks doesn’t it?

“Here. Drink up, you need it.” I hear Kelce say. I turn to face him and he has his left hand extended toward me, my glass of whiskey in hand. I quickly snatch it from his grip and throw it back, downing the amber liquid in one gulp. Turning to face the bar, I slide the glass back toward Sofia. “Another.”

-

Two hours and multiple glasses of whiskey later, I’m drunk. The room sways a bit, and I reach my hand out to grip the patio railing. I hear Topper laugh from the right of me. “Dude, you’re fucking wasted.” He laughs out, placing his hand on my shoulder to help keep me upright.

“I- I am not wasted, Top. I’m just… Buzzed” I lie.

He opens his mouth to speak but he quickly slams it shut, the sound of his teeth clashing together has me turning my full attention on him. His brows are raised and his eyes look like they’re going to pop from his skull as he stares intently behind us.

“What the fuck are you looking at? You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.” I joke. But he doesn’t laugh, and that makes me nervous. Topper laughs at the dumbest shit, so for him to remain staring behind us with a look of pure shock in his eyes, it has me wondering what just happened.

My body sways to the side as I try to turn and face the direction he’s looking, but his hand on my shoulder has me stopping in place.

I narrow my blue — possibly bloodshot — eyes on him. “What the fuck, Top. Speak!”

He clears his throat. “I- Uh.. Y/N just walked in with some of her friends.”

That has my attention. I quickly turn my body, falling forward a bit but catching myself with the help of the railing again. She stands at the bar. And she looks fucking delicious right now. For a girl who has never taken it past kissing a man — if she’s even kissed a man — she sure knows how to dress the part of any other girl on this island. She wears a black, leather skirt that hugs her curves and ass nicely. A tight, white cropped top and a pair of black heels that add a few inches to her height. Her hair is up in a high ponytail, and all I can think of is wrapping my hand in it and pulling her head back as I fuck her from behind.

What the fuck? Why am I thinking of her like this? I fucking hate her. My soon to be wife. She’s a fucking stuck up, prude bitch. My mind tells me to stop staring, reminds me that I can’t fucking stand her. But my cock is screaming the complete opposite.

Without thinking, my legs begin to carry me toward her. I come to a stop right behind her, clearing my throat, causing her head to whip in my direction. The moment her eyes find mine, she’s rolling them. The act alone is fucking sexy. I picture her eyes rolling into the back of her head while my face is buried between her legs, devouring her sweet cunt. Fuck. Stop thinking of her like this Rafe, you’re just drunk, and horny. Any girl would do, but for some fucking reason, my mind is consumed with her.

“What the fuck do you want, Rafe” She sighs.

I smirk at the anger that radiates from her. “Just coming to say- just coming to say hey to my future wifeeee.” I slur. She rolls her eyes as they find mine again.

“You said hey, now run along. We don’t need to pretend to like each other right now.”

Maybe it’s just because I’m drunk, but her words stung. She really hates me doesn’t she? I mean, I hate her too. Don’t I? Yes, Rafe. She’s a stuck up bitch who acts like she’s better than everyone. But my drunken mind has me sighing as I say, “You really don’t like me, baby?”

Her body stiffens, eyes wide as she stares back at me. “I- Don’t call me that.”

I smirk. I have her worked up. Reaching out my left hand, I push a few strands of hair behind her ear before I run my fingers down the side of her face. She sucks in a shaky breath and flinches away from my touch.

“Rafe… Please just let me have a night out with my friends. In two days, we’re announcing to the entire island that we’re getting married, and I’d like to live the last two days of my life without you around… Lord knows I’m about to be stuck with you.”

My eyes narrow and I take a step toward her. You’re drunk, Rafe. Keep your cool. My large hands reach for her face, cupping her cheeks as I lower my face closer to hers. I don’t miss the way her chest rises and falls rapidly from my close proximity. She’s nervous. It’s going to be so much fun having her all to myself. Even if I hate her, pussy is pussy. And this is pussy that’s never been touched. She’s all mine to play with. To fuck. To break. To train. She’ll be my own personal whore by the time I’m done with her.

My glassy, blue eyes search her face. I half expect her to shove me away, and I’m so drunk I wouldn’t be able to fight back on it. But she doesn’t. Instead, her eyes find mine. That’s it, be strong baby girl. I like the tough girl act.

“Baby, you’re going to be crawling on your hands and knees begging for me to touch you. To kiss you. To please you. You can act like you hate me now, Lord knows I can’t stand you. But even I can admit, you’re fucking gorgeous. And I know you find me somewhat attractive.” I pause, placing my lips on the sensitive skin of her neck and leaving soft kisses, making her hiss in a breath. “I know this isn’t what either one of us wanted, but we have no choice… Why not enjoy the game?”

Her beautiful eyes narrow into slits and her lips thin. She blinks a few times before slapping my hands from her face. I stumble back a little, but catch myself on the bar, giving her a slow smirk.

“Fuck you, Rafe!” She hisses before grabbing her purse and storming off to the locker rooms.

I smile to myself as I watch her storm off. She’s mad now, but I meant what I said. She’ll be begging for more after I finally touch her. She can pretend now, and I’m not saying I’m falling for her. But Topper was right. She’s hot. Might as well enjoy the game and the perks, right? Letting out a small laugh, I turn and make my way back toward my friends, adjusting my hard cock that’s straining against my pants in the process. This is going to be fun.

RAFE TAGLIST: @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @lexasaurs634 @anqeliclust @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @biggesthat3r @wearemadeofstardust @sylverdragon

[wcters]

𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗪𝗛𝗢 𝗡𝗔𝗣𝗦 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: matt with a girlfriend who is obsessed with naps/naps all the time

warnings/notes: established relationships, will probably be shorter than the last one 🤍 sorry

- you need coffee all the time

- or just any caffeine

- always nursing a red bull or iced coffee

- probably stopped working to keep you awake after awhile but you gaslight yourself into thinking it does

- you have woken up in matt’s bed with chris beside matt who’s beside you

- like hello? when did you show up and it’s too squished

- slipper socks . . . you have cold feet a lot

- you force matt to take his shoes off if he’s going on the bed. no matte how clean they are

- will not let him leave your naps

- have your own pillow and pillowcase at his house

- always have bags under your eyes

- sometimes you can’t sleep without matt

- like you have to be touching him somehow: legs tangled up, hand holding, something

- have a playlist of just phoebe bridgers songs to fall asleep to (same)

- love stealing and sleeping in his boxers and his shirts

- you’re one of those girls who will just wear shorts and a shirt but refuse to put anything else on if you get cold

- you’ll either cuddle up to matt or get more blankets

- MELATONIN GUMMIES

- you take em’ if you are just not falling asleep cause that happens

- have definitely fallen asleep in matt’s lap or something while he’s playing video games and he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up or tell you you’re in the way

- like that feeling when you have to get up when you have a cat in your lap

- sleep in a starfish position unless matt’s there

- nick, chris, and matt have so many 0.5’s of you sleeping

- #mouthbreather

- you’ve almost fallen asleep while you’re out for dinner

- have a shirt/sweater that says ‘i’m tired but i’m being brave about it’

- fall asleep to true crime

- talk about the most confusing and existential stuff and then fall asleep like nothing

- people complain you sleep too much? your just a girl 🎀

- when someone asks you to hang and and you say your busy your probably just taking a nap

- you and matt are always down for a nap

- you’re a sleepy couple

- you will set like 10 alarms to wake you up because you’ll either snooze them or sleep through them

- you always have cold water and chapstick near you when you’re napping/sleeping

- soooo delirious when you first wake up

- you prefer the room or wherever you’re having a nap to be cold

- not like freezing but under the temperature you’d usually have the house/apartment

- sleep focus? 🔛 no one is getting to you unless it’s an emergency

- you’ll text everyone who might try to reach you

- ‘i am having a nap, will not answer for anything cause i’ll be asleep 😌😌’

- matt has gifted toy essential oils or bath salts to help you sleep

- christmas morning with you SUCKS and you admit that. you hate waking up early

- matt will have to drag you out of the room

- all pissed at him and everyone else until you get your gifts or go back to sleep

- fall asleep during movie nights

- you can sleep anywhere and will

- the triplets will get home from somewhere and you’re just on the couch or sitting at their dining room table asleep

- if you don’t want up, matt will just pick you up and carry you to your room

- you’ve dropped your phone on your face before cause you fell asleep watching it

- you won’t admit it out loud . . . but you love asmr

- have a playlist of your favourites

- passenger princess, sleeper edition!

- has a headrest pillow you bought

- blanket ready to go and chair laid back if no one’s behind it

- matt draws shapes on your back

- will nap with best friends

- talk and talk and let everyone know how much you love naps

[xo100]

Collisions and connections - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: While mountain biking in Germany with friends, you accidentally fall and cause none other than Lando Norris to crash into you. Though he's frustrated at first, the tension quickly turns into playful banter as you ride together. By the end of the day, Lando invites you to go karting with him, leaving you with an unexpected, flirty connection.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2535

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

Germany was always on your friend group’s list of adventure destinations, and today was no exception. The sky was a vibrant blue, with a scattering of white clouds drifting lazily above the dense woods. You had rented mountain bikes for the day, ready to tackle the scenic yet thrilling trails that cut through the forest. The air was filled with a crisp freshness that begged to be explored, and you and your friends were more than ready to answer the call.

After renting the bikes, you all gathered around the man who ran the rental service. He looked rugged, like someone who had spent countless days in the wilderness, and his experience showed. He gave a quick but detailed briefing on how to handle the trails, adjust the gears, and keep balance on uneven terrain. It all seemed straightforward, and the excitement in your group was palpable.

“Medium parkour it is, then!” your best friend, Mia, had announced with a grin, gesturing to the map of trails. It wasn’t the easiest route, but definitely manageable. A perfect mix of challenge and fun, with paths winding through the thick woods and just enough obstacles to keep things interesting.

So, there you were, cycling through the forest with the adrenaline pumping through your veins. The cool wind whipped past, making the trees blur as you sped through the trail. You were at the back, lagging a bit behind, but you didn't mind. You were enjoying the ride, taking in the sights, the sounds of nature mixed with the whirr of bike wheels over dirt and rocks.

Everything was going perfectly, until it wasn’t.

Out of nowhere, Mia slammed on her brakes ahead of you to avoid a tricky curve. You reacted instinctively, jamming your brakes hard, but it was too late. The sudden stop sent you flying, tumbling over your handlebars, and before you knew it, you were on the ground, tangled up in your bike. A dull pain shot through your leg, but it wasn’t unbearable. The worst part was the embarrassment. You tried to quickly untangle yourself, hoping no one had noticed—your friends were already too far ahead to hear the commotion.

But someone did notice.

Before you could fully recover, a loud thud sounded behind you. The weight of another body landed just inches away, and when you looked up, you were met with the sight of a guy sprawled on the ground, his bike fallen to the side. His face was hidden beneath his helmet at first, but his groan of frustration was unmistakable.

“What the hell?” His voice was sharp, laced with irritation.

You scrambled to get up, wincing as you did, and turned to apologize. But when you saw who had fallen behind you, your heart nearly stopped.

Lando Norris. The Lando Norris, the Formula 1 driver. You’d recognize him anywhere, even with the helmet.

“Oh my God,” you stammered, eyes wide, “I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to—my friend, she just—“

He stood up, dusting himself off, and as he removed his helmet, his expression was nothing short of annoyed. His messy brown hair was slightly damp from the ride, and his hazel eyes met yours, sharp but surprised. He was about to say something, but then he paused, his anger seemingly dissipating as he took in the sight of you, flustered and apologetic.

“You—“ he started, but stopped, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“I didn’t either,” you admitted, wincing as you tried to stand. The fall had left you with a few scrapes, but you were mostly fine. “Are you okay?”

Lando glanced down at himself, and then at his bike. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit of a... surprise collision.”

You couldn't help but let out a small, nervous laugh, despite the situation. “I didn’t expect to cause a Formula 1 driver to crash. That's definitely not on my bucket list.”

His lips twitched at that, a faint smile appearing. “Well, at least it wasn’t in a car. That’d be much worse.”

Before you could respond, another voice cut through the scene. “Lando, mate, you alright?” A group of guys, his friends no doubt, appeared just behind him, all dressed in similar biking gear.

Lando waved them off. “Yeah, yeah. Just a little hiccup.”

One of them gave you a sympathetic look. “That looked like a rough fall. You alright?”

“I’ll survive,” you replied, still feeling a bit mortified.

Lando glanced at you, and there was something softer in his eyes now, like his frustration had melted away. “Need help with your bike?”

“I think I can manage,” you said, but as you tried to lift it, a sharp pain in your ankle made you wince.

Lando noticed immediately. “You sure? Looks like that fall did more than just bruise your pride.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing, but there was a playfulness to his tone that eased your nerves. “Fine. Maybe a little help.”

He knelt down, making quick work of untangling the bike and helping you to your feet. As he steadied you, his hand lingered on your arm for just a moment longer than necessary. The warmth of his touch sent a little flutter through your stomach, and you couldn't help but feel a bit flustered under his gaze.

“There,” he said, standing back up. “Good as new. Well, almost.”

You laughed lightly. “Thanks. I’m really sorry again, though. I didn’t mean to ruin your ride.”

He shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips now. “Guess it wasn’t all your fault. These things happen, right?”

His friends, seeing the situation was under control, started riding off slowly, leaving you and Lando a bit of space. He glanced back at them before turning to you again. “You sure you're okay to keep going?”

You tested your ankle, wincing a little but feeling mostly fine. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. Just might take it slower from here.”

Lando raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? Because I’m already going slow, and you still managed to take me down.”

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes now, and you felt your cheeks heat up slightly.

“Hey! You were the one right behind me,” you shot back, smiling. “Maybe you're not as fast off the track as you think.”

He laughed at that, a real, genuine laugh that made the tension between you fade completely. “Alright, I’ll give you that one.”

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence, the sounds of the forest surrounding you. You could hear your friends further down the trail, but for some reason, you weren’t in a rush to catch up.

Lando tilted his head slightly, studying you. “So, what brings you and your friends out here? Just looking for some adrenaline?”

“Yeah, pretty much. We’re always up for an adventure,” you replied, leaning against your bike. “And Germany seemed like a good place to do that.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Good choice. Though, maybe next time, avoid taking out unsuspecting riders.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. “Noted.”

There was something easy about being around him now, even though moments before, you had been sure he’d be furious. But Lando was clearly the kind of guy who didn’t let things like this get to him for long. In fact, now that the initial shock had worn off, it seemed like he was enjoying the banter as much as you were.

“Well,” he said, glancing down the trail, “if you need someone to keep an eye on you so you don’t wipe out again, I’m happy to volunteer.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what’s in it for you?”

He grinned. “I get to say I saved the girl who made me crash.”

“Saved me, huh? Pretty sure I would’ve been fine without you.”

He leaned in just slightly, his smile turning a bit more teasing. “Maybe. But where’s the fun in that?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the subtle flirtation, and you found yourself grinning back. “Alright, Norris. Try to keep up.”

With that, you pushed off, slowly starting down the trail again. And this time, when Lando followed, he stayed right beside you.

-

Lando stayed close by your side as you both navigated the trail at a slower pace. The tension from your earlier crash had dissolved completely, leaving behind an unexpected sense of ease between the two of you. It felt strange, like you had known him longer than just a few moments. You had expected some awkwardness, given that he was famous and you had, quite literally, knocked him off his bike. But instead, the playful banter flowed effortlessly, and you couldn't help but enjoy it.

“So,” Lando said, breaking the silence as you both rode through a section of the forest bathed in dappled sunlight, “is this what you and your friends do on a regular basis? Traveling the world, causing accidents?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, not usually. We're always up for an adventure, though. This time, it just happened to involve bikes... and, well, unplanned collisions.”

“Right,” he replied, his voice laced with teasing. “I’d say it’s a memorable introduction.”

You looked over at him, catching the smirk on his face. “Is that your way of saying you’re not mad about it anymore?”

He shrugged playfully. “I mean, it’s hard to stay mad when you’ve got someone as charming as you apologizing.”

You shot him a look, pretending to be skeptical. “Charming, huh? I’m sure you say that to all the girls who make you fall off your bike.”

His grin widened, and he slowed his pace to match yours as you hit a steeper incline. “No, just the ones who make me laugh afterward.”

Your heart fluttered slightly at the compliment, and you couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at your lips. It was a bit surreal to be here, biking through the German woods with Lando Norris—flirting, no less. But as surprising as it was, it also felt strangely natural.

You reached a flat part of the trail, and Lando nudged his bike a little closer to yours. “I never caught your name, by the way,” he said, glancing sideways at you.

“It’s y/n,” you replied, looking over at him. “And you’re Lando. Not that you need an introduction.”

He chuckled. “I figured you knew that part. But hey, I like hearing it from you.”

There was a brief pause as the two of you continued, and you noticed the distant sound of your friends’ voices up ahead. You probably should’ve been catching up, but the longer you rode alongside Lando, the less you cared about rushing back to your group. The trail wasn’t too crowded at this point, giving you and Lando plenty of space to continue at your own pace.

“So, what’s next for you and your adventure squad?” Lando asked, throwing a glance toward the path ahead. “More mountain biking, or something less... crash-prone?”

“Definitely not mountain biking again,” you joked, laughing. “At least not for a while. I think after this, we’re headed to Berlin. You know, something more touristy, less likely to involve hospital visits.”

He laughed along with you, shaking his head. “Probably a smart move. Though, if you want to keep the adventure going, I’ve got some suggestions.”

“Oh yeah?” You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Like what?”

“Well, you seem like the type who’d be into karting,” he said, a playful spark in his eyes. “And I just happen to know my way around a kart track.”

You gave him an exaggerated look of surprise. “Wow, what a coincidence! I bet you’re really fast too, huh?”

He grinned, leaning a little closer as you both slowed down again. “I’ve been known to have a bit of speed. Think you could keep up?”

You pretended to think it over. “Maybe. Or, I’ll just make you crash again.”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe your audacity. “You’re ruthless, aren’t you?”

“Only when necessary,” you shot back with a grin, feeling the easy warmth between you both growing with each playful exchange.

The two of you rode in comfortable silence for a few minutes after that, the trees and sunlight providing a calming backdrop. You could hear the birds chirping and the wind rustling through the leaves, and for a moment, it was just you and Lando, side by side, enjoying the simplicity of the ride.

Eventually, though, the voices of your friends grew louder, and you spotted them waiting at a clearing up ahead. Mia waved when she saw you, her expression a mix of concern and relief.

“There you are!” she called out as you approached. “We were about to come back and look for you!”

You smiled sheepishly as you stopped beside them. “Yeah, sorry. I, uh, had a bit of a fall.”

Lando, who had pulled up beside you, shot Mia a look. “More like she caused me to fall.”

Mia’s eyes widened in recognition as she took in who was standing next to you. “Wait... are you—?”

“Lando Norris,” he confirmed with a small smirk. “Long story, but yeah, she took me out on the trail.”

Mia’s jaw dropped, and your other friends looked equally stunned. But before anyone could freak out too much, Lando waved it off. “It’s all good. We both survived.”

You laughed, giving your friends a reassuring nod. “Yeah, no major injuries. Just a little pride lost.”

“Wow,” Mia muttered, still processing everything. “This is insane.”

Lando just grinned, glancing over at you. “It’s been... interesting, for sure.”

As your friends began gathering their things, preparing to head off again, Lando turned to you, his voice lowering slightly. “Hey, before you go...”

You looked up at him, curious. “Yeah?”

“How about that karting I mentioned?” His eyes twinkled with that same playful glint. “I’m sticking around in Germany for a few more days. I could give you a proper lesson—on a track, where we won’t crash.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion, and you couldn’t help but smile. “You really want me to embarrass myself again, don’t you?”

Lando shook his head, his smile widening. “No, I just want to see if you can keep up this time.”

You bit your lip, considering it for a moment. “Alright, fine. You’re on.”

His grin was contagious, and you couldn’t help but laugh as he stepped back, ready to rejoin his own group. “I’ll find a way to contact you,” he said, flashing one last look over his shoulder as he rode off. “Don’t think you’re getting out of it.”

You watched him disappear down the trail, a mix of excitement and disbelief swirling inside you. Meeting Lando Norris had been completely unexpected, but now, the thought of seeing him again—this time on a kart track—was even more thrilling.

Your friends were buzzing with questions and comments as you all started riding again, but your mind kept drifting back to Lando. You had started the day thinking it would be just another adventure with your friends, but somehow, it had turned into something even better.

And if you were lucky, it was only the beginning.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!