#enough that I'd be willing to try going again next time

[dandyshucks]

the trans group actually went decently this time yayyy i was only misgendered once but it was by the person who misgenders literally everyone so fhdkdl i didnt rly take it personally, and also there was a rly nice guy there that i was almost getting a little flustered by bc he was just. so nice. 😭😭

he was asking questions abt the pins on my bag (i keep meaning to show yall my bag actually bc I've made it look like my pkmn self's bag fbdksl i gotta do that at some point) and he complimented my sketches that i was working on while i was there and he asked me questions abt it all and like. literally nobody ever asks me questions abt myself, that was so !!!! almost a little overwhelming and scary tbh bc nobody is ever interested in me and my stuff and what i have to say LMAO so i was getting nervous he was looking for smth specific, but i think he was just being nice :')

i feel a little bad though bc i didnt ask him almost any questions abt himself bc i just. had nothing to go off of and the conversations in the room kept moving too fast for me to find any openings for talking to him so augh i hope he doesn't think im rude fjfkdl

i hope he shows up if i go again.... maybe,,, maybe i could make a friend fbdjdksl, it'd be so nice to have a friend in town omfg. also if im being honest,, maaaaybe i was a little bit 👀 bc he was just. so nice. and also he was my age and um. yeah. idk. im not gonna hope for anything in that regard though LMAO its just a fun thought. im scared enough to even hope for just a friendship though fjdmdl

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

What about the Doors/Pressure shopkeepers trying to pretend they aren't giving their crush special treatment when in groups. Like, special inventory, discreet discounts, all that jazz

Jeff (Doors)

"Oye, I see what you're doin', Jeff. Thought you weren't one for giving out freebies."

*shrug*

"Don't play dumb! I saw you sneak the skeleton key into their bag! Even Bob's a witness!"

No matter what El Goblino says, Jeff will just wave off any accusations of him giving you "special treatment" whenever you stopped by the shop with your group.

While none of them donated to the tip jar, you were the only one who ever did...and even when you came back again and again, it was always you who showed him charity.

The rest of your group would just argue over what to spend their money on, try to rush ahead, mess with his radio, etc. etc.

But you trust Jeff, and he trusts you <3

So you get small discounts on his wares, and despite him not being able to speak, you could tell he's only looking after you.

The goblin jokes about Jeff's little "crush" on you...then he sees the entity's eyes widen and realizes "wait amigo,,I wasn't being serious do you actually like them?????"

He just shoos him away and will deny it to kingdom come, but it is true.

The moment you realized his feelings for you was when Rush attacked the shop once, and you thought you were done for-

When Jeff instinctively pulled you behind the counter and slammed the shutter down, keeping you uncomfortably close (yet somehow you've never felt safer).

When it's all over, he blushes and lets you go free.

You thank him with a small kiss on the forehead(?) and promise to see him again soon.

The next time you get duped by Dupe, or attacked by Eyes, Timothy, Screech, or a snare and need to heal...you discover a few bandaids in your pocket that weren't there previously...

Huh.

Wonder who gave you those?

Sebastian (Pressure)

Normally, Sebastian doesn't care to make personal connections with any of the expendables.

He's just there as their supplier before seeing them off on their journey, hoping they're putting his resources to good use.

But recently he's been seeing you more often, coming by with a new group or by yourself, trying your best to survive long enough to reach him.

Ofc, you've died to stupid things before (or maybe you're just trying to get all the monster documents..in which he's convinced you're some masochist), but you did have the most common sense out of your group and didn't try to annoy him.

The others just waste flash beacon charges on trying to blind the poor guy and stick the keycard in a medkit they couldn't afford...and for what?

Why do your "friends" do that? Are they stupid or something?

You tell them to stop, and it's...actually kinda nice to hear somebody willing to defend him.

People usually don't give a shit about the giant scary fish's feelings, yet for some reason you do.

Of course, Sebastian was reasonably suspicious about it.

"Are you acting this way just to get a freebie?" He assumes. "Because if you are, then you're definitely as stupid as-"

"No, I'd never do that to you." You shake your head. "You're here, helping us survive out there, risking a lot to get us those supplies...is it wrong for me to appreciate that?"

"......"

He goes quiet for a minute, but after the rest of your group leaves, he asks you to stay for a moment.

"You were looking at this Necrobloxicon for a while...you must reeeeally want it, huh?" He grins, flicking his tail where the book was strapped. "It's a rarity."

"I...can't afford that. I'm fine with this dingy flashlight-"

"It's yours for 70% off. Take it or leave it."

You do a double take. "Wait, wha-"

"70% off. Take it. Or leave it." He says through gritted teeth, impatient, only to smile when you accept the deal without further question. "Good. Now don't go telling anyone I'm offering discounts. That's your only one unless I feel generous. Capiche?"

"Gotcha. Thank you, Seb. This means a lot. I hope to see you again soon." You smile back, holding the spooky book tightly, and leave him alone with his thoughts.

And a warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest-

Wait.

"Oh no....what the fuck am I doing????? That's it! NO more discounts for anyone, Sebastian!" He scolds himself.

Little does he know, he's gonna keep giving them out, but only for you.

[harrysfolklore]

casual - ln4

summary: you’re in a situationship with lando norris, one that you know is going to break your heart, but you can’t seem to walk away. wc: 11.7k

folkie radio: i was about to scrap this entire fic bc i just didn’t like they way it was turning out but i finished it 😭 i’m still not really confident about it but i hope you enjoy it. disclaimer: this is angsty !!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You and Lando. Lando and You. An undefined space, more than friends, less than a relationship. You remember it like it was yesterday, though almost a year has passed.

It started innocently enough. As a data analyst and strategist for McLaren, you often found yourself working late nights, poring over race statistics and performance metrics. Lando would sometimes wander into the office, restless after a day of simulations and meetings.

At first, your interactions were purely professional - discussing tire degradation rates or fuel consumption patterns. But gradually, conversations began to drift, getting more personal and personal.

The shift happened subtly. One night, after a particularly grueling race weekend, you were both exhausted, sprawled on the office couch analyzing data. Lando's head drooped onto your shoulder, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air crackled with tension.

"We shouldn't," you murmured, even as you turned to face him.

"Probably not," Lando agreed, his blue eyes flickering to your lips.

The kiss was inevitable, months of built-up attraction finally finding release. And then came another, and another.

When Lando suggested heading back to his place, you found yourself saying yes without hesitation.

Before you knew it, you were in his apartment, you could feel the tension in the air. Lando stepped closer, his hand cupping your cheek.

"I've been wanting to do this for a while," he murmured, before leaning in to kiss you again.

Clothes were shed as you made your way to his bedroom, falling onto his bed in a tangle of limbs.

The next morning, sunlight streams through unfamiliar curtains, and you blink awake, momentarily disoriented. Lando's sleeping form beside you brings the memories of last night flooding back.

Lando stirs, his blue eyes meeting yours. "Morning," he mumbles, a shy smile playing on his lips. "So... that happened."

You nod, unsure of what to say. "It did."

An awkward silence stretches between you, the weight of the previous night settling in. You would be lying if you said that you didn't enjoy it. You did. You enjoyed it a lot. But you knew the implications of getting close with someone like Lando Norris.

"Look, Iast night was great," finally, Lando speaks. "But my life, my career... it's complicated."

"I understand," you reply, trying to hide the embarrassment on your face, "I mean, we're work colleges after all, it's complicated for me too."

"I'm not saying I regret this," he quickly adds, "I just... I can't offer you something else right now."

You take a deep breath, weighing your options. "So what are you offering?"

"Honestly? I don't know," Lando runs a hand through his tousled hair, "But I'd like to keep seeing you, if you're okay with... not defining things?"

And so begins, your undefined journey with Lando Norris. From that moment, your relationship existed in a grey area. At work, you maintained professionalism, but stolen glances, brushed hands and the way your clothes always ended up in his bedroom floor told a different story.

You know it's not ideal, to have a situationship with Lando Norris. Not when you know you could really fall for him and jeopardize your job. But at the same time, you can't walk away.

You love you job so much, and the fact that you're willing to shut the rest of the world away in order to focus on what you needed to do proved it.

As the Japanese Grand Prix weekend unfolded, you found yourself buried in work. The Suzuka circuit always presented challenges, and you were determined to give the team every advantage possible.

You were so engrossed in your data analysis that you barely noticed Lando enter the temporary office setup. His hand on your shoulder made you jump.

"Christ, Lando! You scared me," you exclaimed, pulling off your headphones.

He grinned, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes. "Come with me," he said, taking your hand and gently pulling you up.

"Lando, I'm in the middle of-"

"It can wait," he insisted, leading you out of the office and towards his driver's room.

Once inside, he closed the door and leaned against it, watching you with an intensity that made your heart race.

"I miss you," he said simply.

You felt a pang of guilt. It had been weeks since you'd had any real time alone together. "I've been busy," you replied, trying to keep your tone light.

"Busy doing what?" Lando raised an eyebrow.

"Coming up with strategies so you can win races, actually," you retorted, a hint of challenge in your voice.

"Oh really? And how's that going?" he stepped closer, a teasing glint in his eye.

"Well, if you'd stop distracting me," you tilted your chin up defiantly, "Maybe I could finish and you'd find out."

Lando chuckled, closing the distance between you. His hands found your waist, pulling you against him. "Maybe I like distracting you," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

You shivered involuntarily. "Lando..." you warned, but there was no real resistance in your voice.

"Tell me about these strategies," he said, his lips now trailing along your jawline. "How are you planning to make me faster?"

You struggled to maintain your train of thought as his touch sent sparks through your body. "Well," you managed, "I've been analyzing your cornering speeds and-"

Lando cut you off with a kiss, deep and passionate. When he pulled away, you were both breathless.

"Sorry," he grinned, not looking sorry at all. "You were saying?"

"You're impossible, you know that?"

Before he can even reply, you drag him for another kiss. His fingers tangled in your hair as he pulls you closer, your hands slid under his team shirt, tracing the lean muscles of his back.

When you broke apart, Lando's eyes were dark with desire.

"I thought I was the one who distracted you. Seems like you're just as needy as I am," he smirked, his voice low and teasing.

"Don't flatter yourself, Norris," you felt a blush creep up your cheeks, but matched his playful tone, "I'm just... thorough in my research."

Lando's laugh was warm against your neck as he pressed a kiss there. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

"We're not calling it a relationship, aren't we?" you blurted out before you could even think about it.

Lando's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. But quickly, his trademark grin returned.

"Well, we're not calling it a relationship," he said, his tone light and teasing, "maybe we should call it a 'performance enhancement program'. You know, for the sake of the team."

You couldn't help but laugh, even as you felt a twinge in your chest at the casual deflection of the relationship topic. "Oh, is that what this is? And here I thought I was just your favorite data analyst."

"Oh, you definitely are," Lando murmured, leaning in for another kiss. "The very best at... analyzing my data."

You rolled your eyes at the innuendo but smiled despite yourself. "As tempting as it is to continue this 'program'," you said, gently pushing him back, "I really do need to get back to work. Those race strategies won't write themselves, you know."

"Fine, fine. Go make me faster on paper. But don't forget, I might need some hands-on analysis later."

"We'll see about that, hotshot," you replied, straightening your clothes and heading for the door. "Focus on your qualifying first."

It's late, well past midnight, when your phone buzzes with a text. You're still up, reviewing data from the day's practice sessions. The message is from Lando, of course.

"Room 507. Now. Please?"

You can't help but smile, imagining the impatience and desire behind those words. You type back:

"Demanding, aren't we? What if I'm busy?"

His reply comes quickly: "Busy with what? I know you're probably still working. Take a break. You deserve it.”

You laugh softly. "I deserve it, huh? Well, when you put it that way..."

"So you're coming?"

You pause, pretending to consider it, even though you both know you're already reaching for your room key. "I suppose I could spare a few minutes."

"There's my girl"

You slip out of your room, heart racing with anticipation. You've done this countless of times before, sneaking out of your hotel room to end up naked in Lando's, but you still felt like a teenage girl every single time.

The hotel corridor is quiet, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. You're so focused on reaching Lando's room that you almost collide with someone rounding the corner.

"Whoa, sorry!" You step back, then freeze as you realize it's Oscar, who looks equally surprised.

"Oh, hey. Bit late for a walk, isn't it?"

Your mind races, searching for a plausible excuse. "I, uh... couldn't sleep. Thought I'd grab some ice."

"Ice?" Oscar's brow furrows slightly, "At this hour?"

"Yeah, you know... for my water," you say lamely, cringing at how unconvincing you sound. "Helps me... think better. For work."

"Right," Oscar says slowly, clearly not buying it but too polite to press further. "Well, don't let me keep you from your... ice-enhanced thinking."

You force a laugh. "Thanks. Goodnight, Oscar."

As you hurry past him, you can feel his curious gaze on your back. You silently pray he doesn't mention this encounter to anyone else on the team.

One of the main reasons why you agreed to mess around with Lando without a label was exactly that, the fear of putting your job at risk. You worked hard for it, and you would never forgive yourself if you lost it due to getting in a relationship with one of the drivers.

Which lead you to getting in a goddamn situationship.

Finally reaching room 507, you knock softly. Lando opens the door almost immediately, pulling you inside with a grin.

"Took you long enough," he teases, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"Yeah, well, I just had to convince your teammate that I'm wandering the halls at 1 AM in search of ice. So thanks for that," you retort, but there's no real annoyance in your voice.

"You ran into Oscar?" Lando's eyes widen, "What did you tell him?"

"That I needed ice. For thinking."

"Ice for thinking?" he bursts out laughing. "That's the best you could come up with?"

"Hey, you try coming up with a believable excuse on the spot!" you protest, swatting his arm playfully.

"Fair enough," Lando concedes, still chuckling. "Now, where were we? I believe you were going to help me with some... performance analysis?"

As Lando leans in, your lips meet in a passionate kiss. The tension that's been building all day finally releases as you melt into his embrace. His hands roam your body, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

"Oh really?" you tease, running your fingers through his hair. "I thought you were supposed to be focusing on your lap times."

"Who says I can't do both?"

Lando's lips find your neck, trailing kisses along your jawline. You tilt your head back, a soft sigh escaping your lips. Your hands slide under his t-shirt, tracing his sides.

He guides you towards the bed, your bodies pressed close together. As the back of your knees hit the mattress, you fall back, pulling Lando with you. He hovers over you, his weight supported on his forearms.

"You're beautiful," he whispers, his eyes roaming your face.

You reach up to cup his cheek, drawing him down for another kiss. This one is slower, deeper, filled with unspoken emotions.

As things heat up, clothes start to come off. Lando's shirt is the first to go, followed quickly by yours. Skin meets skin, and the world narrows down to just the two of you, lost in each other's touch.

The night stretches on, filled with whispered words, soft moans, and the rustle of sheets. You can't help but think that this undefined thing with Lando is getting more complicated by the day but you decide that's a problem for future you to worry about.

After an exhausting triple header across three different countries, you finally have a well-deserved two-week break.

The past few races have been grueling, with long nights analyzing data and strategizing for each track. While you love your job, the intense schedule has left you drained. Now back home, you decide it's time to unwind and have some fun with your friends.

It's Friday evening, and you're getting ready for a girls' night out. Usually, you’d spend your Friday with Lando, but this time you were dying for a chance to let loose, dance with your friends and forget about work for a while. 

And maybe, forget about your little situationship, too.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, they say. Because as if on cue your phone starts buzzing with an incoming FaceTime call. Lando's name flashes on the screen.

You answer, propping the phone up on your dresser. "Hey, Lan," you greet him while still doing your makeup.

"Hey, you," he replies, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in your appearance. "Wow, you look hot. Are you going somewhere?"

You nod, turning back to the mirror to continue applying your eyeshadow. "Yep, heading out tonight. It's been ages since I've had a proper night out."

"Oh," Lando says, his tone curious. "Like, out out? Are you... um, going on a date or something?"

You can't help but smirk a little at his barely concealed interest. "Why, Lando Norris, are you fishing for information?" you tease. "I mean, I could be going on a date. We're not exclusive, after all."

Lando's expression falters for a moment before he catches himself, forcing a casual laugh. "No, no, of course not. I was just, you know, curious. Making conversation and all that."

You watch him in the phone screen, noticing how he's trying to play it cool but failing miserably. His jaw is tense, and he's fidgeting more than usual.

Taking pity on him, you decide to put him out of his misery. "Relax, Lando. It's just girls' night. After that triple header, I need to blow off some steam with my friends."

"Oh, right. Cool, cool," the relief on his face is palpable, "That sounds fun."

"Were you jealous, Norris?" you raise an eyebrow at him.

"Me? Jealous? Nah," he scoffs, but the slight blush creeping up his neck betrays him. "I mean, like you said, we're not... you know."

"Exclusive," you finish for him, feeling a familiar twinge in your chest at the word.

"Right," Lando nods, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Anyway, I hope you have a great time tonight. You deserve it after all the hard work these past few weeks."

"Thanks, Lan. I plan to."

"Call me if you need me to pick you up," Lando assures, making you smile softly. Maybe he actually cares about you, you think.

"Don't worry, I can handle myself."

Just as Lando was expecting, you call him around 2 AM, asking if he could come pick you up from the club.

He doesn’t think twice before he’s getting up, putting a hoodie on and grabbing his keys to leave the house.

His car pulls up outside the club about 15 minutes later. You make your way to the vehicle, sliding into the passenger seat with a giggle.

"Thanks for coming," you say, leaning towards him with a grin.

“Of course, love,” Lando looks you over, a playful smirk on his face. "Looks like someone had fun tonight."

“I did, but I missed you,” you say as he starts driving, you’re not sure if he’ll take you to your place or his, but you don’t want to sleep without him, "Oh! I have to tell you something,"

"Well do tell," he encourages, glancing at you with interest.

"There was this guy at the club," you begin, noticing how Lando's eyebrow quirks up. "He was really handsome, and he was flirting with me."

"Was he now?" Lando asks, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something else.

"Yup," you say, popping the 'p' sound. "I pushed him away. Because even though you might not be my boyfriend, I only want you. No one else."

Lando's lips curl into a pleased smile. "Is that so?" he says, his voice low and teasing. "And here I thought I was just your favorite Uber driver."

You burst into laughter, the sound filling the car. Then, feeling bold, you place your hand on his thigh. "Will you sleep with me tonight?"

Lando doesn't even flinch. Instead, he shoots you a mischievous look. "Just like that? Usually, I at least buy you dinner first."

You groan, moving your hand from his thigh but he quickly catches it and kisses your palm before resting it there again, “Of course I’ll stay with you, baby.”

As you arrive home, Lando helps you inside, his arm steady around your waist. You stumble a bit, giggling as you lean into him.

"Careful there," he says, "Let's get you sorted, shall we?"

He guides you to the kitchen, one hand on the small of your back. You hop onto a barstool, watching as he moves around your kitchen with surprising familiarity.

"Let's get some water in you," he says, filling a large glass. "And maybe some food too. When's the last time you ate?"

You scrunch your nose, trying to remember. "Um... before we went out? I think?"

Lando shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. "No wonder you're in this state. Drink this," he hands you the water, "and I'll make you a sandwich."

You sip the water obediently, watching him as he rummages through your fridge. "You don't have to do all this, you know," you say softly.

"I want to," he looks up at you, his eyes soft. "Let me take care of you, yeah?"

As you finish your water, he slides a plate with a sandwich in front of you. "Eat up, pretty girl. It'll help sober you up."

You take a bite, suddenly realizing how hungry you are. As you eat, Lando leans against the counter, watching you with amusement and something else you can't quite name.

"So," he says casually, "tell me about this handsome guy at the club."

You swallow your bite, looking up at him. "Jealous, Norris?"

"Just curious," he shrugs, a smirk playing at his lips. "You said you pushed him away?"

You nod, setting down the sandwich. "I did. He was nice, but... he wasn't you."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication. Lando's eyes sparkle, but he doesn't say anything.

You slide off the barstool and step closer to him. Your hands find his chest and you lean in, pressing your lips to his. He kisses back, his hands settling on your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss deepens, and you feel a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the alcohol.

But then Lando pulls away gently, resting his forehead against yours. "Let's go to sleep, pretty girl," he says, his voice low and a bit rough. "You need rest."

You pout, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "But I want you," you whisper, leaning in so your lips are inches from his.

"And you can have me," he says softly, cupping your face with one hand. "But right now we're going to sleep."

You start to protest, but he silences you with a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

As he leads you to the bedroom, Lando's mind is in turmoil. He's acutely aware of the growing feelings he has for you - feelings that go far beyond the casual arrangement you've had so far. The way his heart races when you're near, the constant urge to make you smile, the fierce protectiveness he feels - it all points to something deeper, that both thrills and terrifies him.

But with these feelings comes a familiar fear. Commitment has always been hard for him. The demands of his career, the pressure of the public eye, the fear of letting someone down - they all contribute to his hesitation. And yet, as he looks at you now, soft and vulnerable in his arms, he can't help but wonder if you might be worth the risk.

In the bedroom, he helps you change into comfortable sleepwear. As you both lay down, you curl into his side, your head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart is soothing, and you feel yourself starting to drift off.

"Lando?" you ask, your voice sleepy.

"Hmm?" His hand is running through your hair, the gesture comforting.

"Do you push away the beautiful girls that come up to flirt with you? Like I did tonight?"

You feel his chest rise with a deep breath. There's a pause before he answers, "I do," he says softly. "There's only one girl I'm interested in."

You lift your head slightly, trying to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Really? Who's that?"

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I think you know, pretty girl."

You're fighting sleep now, but you're determined to get an answer. "Well, I don't believe you," you mumble, the words slurring together. "Prove it."

Lando opens his mouth to reply, but he realizes you're already asleep, your breathing evening out. He looks down at you, a fond smile on his face. Pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, he whispers, "Maybe I'll show you soon."

The Hungarian Grand Prix has just concluded, and the atmosphere in the McLaren garage is torn between elation and tension.

Oscar has claimed his first Formula 1 victory, a monumental achievement for him and the team. However, the circumstances of his win have left a bitter taste in Lando's mouth, casting a shadow over what should have been a moment of pure celebration for everyone.

You're standing off to the side, your mind racing. The strategy call wasn't yours directly, but as part of the team, you can't help feeling partly responsible for the decision that affected both drivers.

As Lando storms into the garage, his face like thunder, you brace yourself for the fallout. His usual easy-going demeanor is nowhere to be seen, replaced by a storm of anger and disappointment. You've seen Lando upset before, but this felt different.

"Lando," you start, reaching out to him, your voice soft and tentative.

"Save it," he snaps, his blue eyes flashing with anger as he brushes past you. The coldness in his voice makes you flinch. "I don't want to hear it. Not from you, not from anyone."

For the rest of the day, Lando avoids you like the plague. You take separate flights home so you don't really see him or hear from him after you left the circuit.

Over the next few days, you try reaching out via text, each message more desperate than the last. But they go unanswered, each 'read' receipt another twist of the knife. This isn't like Lando, to shut everyone out so completely. You can't help but wonder if this is about more than just the race.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you decide to go to his place. It's a risky move, you know, but the thought of leaving things like this is unbearable. Using the spare key he gave you months ago - a gesture that had felt so significant at the time - you let yourself in.

The apartment is quiet, but not empty. You can feel his presence, sense the tension in the air.

"Lando?" you call out, your voice echoing slightly in the silent space.

You hear movement from his bedroom, and soon enough he emerges, dressed to go out, and freezes when he sees you. His expression hardens, the warmth you're used to seeing in his eyes replaced by a cold, distant look. "What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk, Lando," you say, your voice firm despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "You can't just shut me out like this. It's not fair, and it's not right."

"I don't have time for this right now," Lando's jaw clenches, his gaze darting away from yours, "I'm heading out."

"Of course you are," you say, unable to keep the bitterness from your voice. "Because going out and partying is so much easier than facing your problems, isn't it?"

His eyes narrow, a spark of anger igniting, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're running away," you say, taking a step closer. "From the race, from the team, from me. We're all just trying to do our best, Lando. The team made a call, and it worked out for the best. Why can't you see that?"

"Because it wasn't the best for me!" Lando explodes, his composure finally cracking. "Do you have any idea what it's like? To have victory in your grasp and then have it taken away? To be told that you're not good enough, that your teammate is the better choice?"

"That's not what happened, and you know it," you argue back, your own frustration bubbling over. "It was a strategic decision, not a judgment on your abilities. You're letting your ego cloud your judgment."

"My ego?" Lando's laugh is harsh and humorless, "That's rich, coming from someone who's never had to make these kinds of sacrifices."

The words hang in the air between you, sharp and cutting. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside you. You's never had an argument like this before.

"Fine," you say finally, your voice quiet but firm. "Go out if that's what you want. But don't call me when you're feeling lonely later tonight. I'm not just some convenient comfort for when you decide you need me."

Something flashes in Lando's eyes – hurt, perhaps, or regret. But it's quickly replaced by a hardness that makes your heart ache.

"Don't worry," he retorts, his voice cold. "I can always find another girl to keep me company. I don't need you for that."

The words hit you like a physical blow, and you take an involuntary step back. The undefined nature of your relationship, once thrilling in its potential, now feels like a weapon being used against you.

"Is that what this is to you?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just a convenient arrangement? Someone to warm your bed when you can't find anyone else?"

Lando's expression softens for a moment, regret flickering across his features. But he doesn't take back his words. Instead, he turns away, his hand on the front door.

"You know your way out." And with that, he's out of the door.

A week later, Formula 1 has moved to the iconic Spa-Francorchamps circuit in Belgium. The air is thick with anticipation - not just for the upcoming race, but for the looming summer break that follows.

You've thrown yourself into your work, burying your emotions under a mountain of data analysis and strategy planning. The tension between you and Lando hasn't gone unnoticed by the team, but thankfully, everyone's too focused on the upcoming race to pry.

You haven't spoke to Lando after your argument at his place, and you blocked his number, leaving him unable to contact you.

As you make your way through the paddock, your arms full of printouts and your mind racing with tire degradation calculations, you spot a familiar figure approaching. Lando, clad in his McLaren team shirt, is walking purposefully in your direction. Your heart rate spikes, and you quickly duck into a nearby hospitality area, pretending to be engrossed in conversation with a group of engineers.

This dance continues throughout the day. Lando tries to catch your eye during the team briefing, but you keep your gaze fixed on your tablet. He lingers near your station in the garage, but you find urgent errands that take you elsewhere. It's exhausting, this game of cat and mouse, but you're not ready to face him - not yet.

As the day winds down, you're making your final rounds, double-checking that everything is set for tomorrow's practice sessions. The paddock is quieter now, most team members having retired for the evening.

You're so focused on your checklist that you don't notice the approaching footsteps until it's too late.

"We need to talk," Lando's voice, firm and tinged with frustration, breaks the silence.

You spin around and Lando stands before you, his blue eyes intense and determined. He's changed out of his team shirt into a simple t-shirt and jeans, his hair slightly tousled as if he's been running his hands through it.

"Lando, I-" you begin, but he cuts you off.

"No, don't give me another excuse," he says, stepping closer. "We've been dancing around each other all day. Enough is enough."

Before you can protest, he gently but firmly takes your arm and starts guiding you towards the McLaren motorhome. You could resist, but something in his tone, a note of desperation perhaps, makes you comply.

The motorhome is quiet and dimly lit as Lando leads you inside and up to the second level where the drivers have their private areas. He ushers you into his room, closing the door behind you.

The space is unmistakably Lando's - a gaming setup in one corner, a few personal photos tacked to a board, his race suit hanging neatly on a hook. The familiarity of it all makes your heart ache.

Lando runs a hand through his hair, pacing for a moment before turning to face you.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out, the words tumbling from his lips as if he's afraid he'll lose his nerve if he doesn't say them immediately. "I'm so sorry for how I acted, for what I said. It was awful, and you didn't deserve any of it."

You stand there, arms crossed, trying to maintain your composure even as a lot of emotions overwhelm you. "You were an asshole, Lando," you say quietly.

"I know," he nods, "I was angry and frustrated, but that's no excuse. I took it out on you when you were just trying to help." He takes a step closer, his eyes pleading. "I've been miserable this past week. I missed you so much, and the thought that I might have ruined everything between us… it's been killing me."

Despite your best efforts to stay strong, you feel your resolve weakening. You're weak when it comes to him, and you're pretty sure he knows it.

"I missed you too," you admit softly. "But Lando, we can't keep doing this. We can't just pretend everything's fine and then lash out at each other when things get tough."

"I know, I know," Lando nods eagerly. "I want to do better. I want to be better," he pauses for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting your eyes again. "And I didn't go home with anyone that night, by the way,"

You furrow your brow, momentarily confused by the seemingly random statement. Then, like a flash, you remember his cruel words from that night in his house.

As you laid in bed the night of the argument, you couldn't help but wonder if Lando had gone home with someone else, and if that was how it worked when you were not there.

And it hurt more that you ever thought possible.

"Oh," you respond, aiming for nonchalance but not quite hitting the mark. "That's… I mean, you didn't have to tell me that. It's not like we're…"

You trail off, unsure how to finish that sentence. What are you, exactly?

Lando takes a step closer, his blue eyes intense as they lock with yours. "I know I don't have to tell you," he says, his voice low and earnest. "But I want you to know. I only want you to keep me company, not anyone else."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. But almost immediately, a more cynical part of your mind chimes in. He wants you, but he doesn't want to be in a relationship with you. He wants the comfort, the intimacy, but not the commitment.

"Lando, I…" you begin, but the words catch in your throat. You want to ask for clarification, to define what this is between you, but fear holds you back.

Lando seems to sense your inner turmoil. He reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. "I know I messed up," he says softly. "And I know things between us are… complicated. But I mean what I said. You're the only one I want."

You look down at your joined hands, then back up at Lando's face. Despite despite the voice in your head warning you to be careful, you feel yourself giving in. The pull is too strong, the desire to be with him overpowering your rational mind.

"Okay," you whisper, squeezing his hand.

Lando's face breaks into a relieved smile, his eyes lighting up. He pulls you into another embrace, holding you close. You allow yourself to sink into his warmth, pushing your doubts to the back of your mind for now.

When you finally pull apart, Lando's expression is soft, almost reverent. "Are we good?" he asks, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

You take a deep breath, considering the question. Are you good? There's still so much left unsaid, so many questions unanswered. But looking at Lando, feeling the comfort of his presence, you can't bring yourself to disrupt this moment of peace between you.

"Yes," you say, managing a small smile. "We're good."

The early morning sunlight filters through the curtains of Lando's Monaco apartment. You stir slowly, consciousness creeping in as you become aware of the warm body next to you. Opening your eyes, you're greeted by the sight of Lando's peaceful sleeping face, his features relaxed and vulnerable in a way they rarely are when he's awake.

It's been two weeks since your conversation in the motorhome at Spa, and true to form, you and Lando had fallen back into your familiar rhythm without missing a beat. The race weekend had gone well, with both McLarens finishing in the points, and you'd flown to Monaco with Lando for the first part of the summer break without a second thought.

As you watch Lando sleep, you can't help but feel that being here with him feels right in a way that's hard to describe. You know that this thing between you, whatever it is, is a ticking time bomb if you don't define it soon. But every time you think about approaching the subject, fear holds you back.

So you've chosen to ignore it, to live in this blissful bubble for as long as you can. You tell yourself that you'll deal with it later, after the summer break, after the next race, after the season ends. There's always a reason to put it off.

Lando begins to stir, his eyelids fluttering open. When his gaze focuses on you, a slow, sleepy smile spreads across his face. "Morning, beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.

"Morning," you reply softly, unable to help the smile that mirrors his.

Lando reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek as he leans in for a kiss. It starts soft and sweet, but quickly deepens as he pulls you closer. His other hand trails down your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You sigh into the kiss, your own hands exploring the familiar planes of his chest and back.

As things start to heat up, Lando rolls you onto your back, hovering over you. His lips leave yours to trail kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You arch into him, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Just as things are about to progress further, there's a sharp knock at the front door.

"Ignore it," Lando whispers, leaning in to capture your lips again.

You lose yourself in the kiss for a moment before another, more insistent knock breaks through. Lando groans in frustration, dropping his forehead to your shoulder.

"I should probably see who that is," he sighs, reluctantly pulling away.

You watch as he gets out of bed, admiring the view as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants before heading downstairs.

Curious about who could be visiting so early, you decide to follow after a few minutes. You grab Lando's discarded t-shirt from the night before, pulling it on. It falls to mid-thigh, long enough to be decent for a quick peek downstairs.

As you descend the stairs, you hear familiar voices from the entryway. Your heart drops as you recognize the second voice - it's Max Verstappen. Panic sets in as you realize the compromising position you're in, but it's too late. You've already rounded the corner, coming face to face with both drivers.

For a moment, everything freezes. You stand there, a deer caught in headlights, wearing nothing but Lando's shirt. Max's eyes widen in surprise, darting between you and Lando. Lando looks equally shocked, clearly not expecting you to come downstairs.

Mortified, you turn on your heel and bolt back upstairs, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. As you retreat, you hear Max's voice, tinged with amusement and surprise.

"Dude, isn't that one of your strategists?"

You don't hear Lando's response as you shut the bedroom door behind you. This is exactly the kind of situation you'd been afraid of, the reason why leaving things undefined was so dangerous.

Downstairs, the conversation continues.

"Yeah, she is," Lando admits, running a hand through his hair nervously.

"Wow, okay," Max lets out a low whistle, "So… how long has this been going on? Please tell me it's recent and not, like, during the season or something."

Lando hesitates for a moment before answering. "It's… been a while actually. Over a year."

"A YEAR?!" Max exclaims, his voice rising in disbelief. "Lando, mate, are you serious? You've been hooking up with a team member for over a year and nobody knew?"

"It's not just hooking up," Lando defends, though his voice lacks conviction. "It's… complicated."

"Complicated?" Max raises an eyebrow, "Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen if you ask me. Does the team know?"

"No," Lando shakes his head, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything. It's not affecting our work, so no one needs to know."

"Hey, not my circus, not my monkeys," Max holds up his hands in surrender, "But seriously, Lando, be careful. This kind of thing can blow up in your face if you're not careful."

They exchange a few more words before Max takes his leave, reminding Lando about their plans for later in the week. As soon as the door closes behind Max, Lando bounds up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

He finds you in the bedroom, already dressed in own clothes. You're pacing nervously, chewing on your bottom lip - a habit he knows you fall into when you're anxious.

"Hey," he says softly, approaching you cautiously. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect Max to show up unannounced."

You stop pacing, turning to face him. "It's fine," you say, but your voice is tight. "I should go."

"What? No, please don't go," Lando's face falls, "Max won't say anything, I promise. He may be a bit of a prat sometimes, but he can keep a secret."

"I'll just have a walk around the harbor, I'll be back," you say as you grab your phone from the nightstand.

"But why?" Lando asks, a note of panic creeping into his voice. "Is this because Max saw you? I swear, it's not a big deal."

"I'll meet you for lunch, okay? you say softly, avoiding Lando's gaze.

"Okay," he replies simply, not pushing for more.

Without further conversation, you gather your belongings and head for the door. Feeling more conflicted than ever before.

After Max caught you together in Monaco, you stayed a few more days with Lando before reluctantly going back home, and he took on a trip with his family. You don't really see him for the rest of the summer break, until he showed up at your place two weeks before it was time to get back to work.

"So," Lando says as you laid in bed, "ready to go back to being all professional and proper soon, Ms. Strategist?"

"Oh, I'm always professional, Norris. It's you who can't keep your eyes off me during briefings."

"Me? Lando gasps in mock offense, "I'll have you know I'm the picture of focus and concentration."

"Sure," you drawl, "That's why you kept 'accidentally' brushing against me in the garage."

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Can you blame me? You're irresistible when you're talking about tire strategies."

You laugh, pushing him away playfully, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his proximity. "Smooth talker. Is that how you charm all the girls?"

"Nah," he grins, pulling you back towards him. "Just the brilliant, beautiful ones who can calculate pit stop windows in their sleep."

Your breath catches as he nuzzles your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. For a moment, you consider bringing up the conversation you've been avoiding all summer. "Lando," you murmur, "we should probably talk about-"

He silences you with a kiss, deep and passionate. "Or," he says, his eyes dark with desire, "we could make the most of our night."

You know you should resist, that you should have that conversation you've been avoiding. But as Lando's hands start to wander, you find your resolve weakening, as always.

You don't really hear from Lando after that night. He says goodbye after breakfast the following day, and then it's radio silence.

You try not to think too much of it, the break is coming to an end and he has responsibilities and work to go, it's not personal, you try to convince yourself.

But your mind can't help but wander. Is he with someone else? Is he avoiding you? Did you make him upset and you failed to notice?

But you don't dare to bring it up to him. He's not your boyfriend, after all.

The transition back to work after the summer break is jarring. The McLaren Technology Centre buzzes with activity as everyone prepares for the upcoming race. You're immediately swept up in meetings, data analysis, and strategy sessions. Despite working in the same building, you and Lando barely cross paths for days. The few times you do see him from afar, he's always surrounded by engineers or caught up in simulator work.

Finally, the team arrives at Zandvoort Circuit for the Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the paddock envelops you as you make your way to the McLaren garage, your arms full of strategy documents and your mind racing with last-minute considerations for the race.

As you approach, you spot Lando and Oscar chatting animatedly near the entrance. Your heart does a little flip at the sight of Lando, and you can't help but smile. You've missed him more than you care to admit.

"Morning, boys," you call out, aiming for a casual tone as you near them.

They both turn, matching grins spreading across their faces. "Hey there, stranger," Lando says, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief that never fails to make your stomach flutter.

Oscar, ever the gentleman, moves to take some of the papers from your arms. "Let me help you with those. How was your break?"

You smile gratefully, handing him a stack of documents. "Thanks, Oscar. It was lovely, very relaxing. How about yours?"

As Oscar launches into a story about his time back home in Australia and his trip with his girlfriend, you can't help but steal glances at Lando.

He looks good - tanned and relaxed, with a hint of stubble that you know from experience feels delightfully rough against your skin. You quickly push that thought aside, reminding yourself of where you are.

"Oh, that reminds me," Oscar says suddenly, turning to Lando with a sly grin. "How did that lunch go the other day? With Emma?"

You feel your body tense involuntarily. Lunch? Emma? Who's Emma?

Lando's eyes widen slightly, and he shoots a quick glance your way before looking back at Oscar. "Oh, uh, it was fine. Just a casual thing, you know."

But Oscar, oblivious to the sudden tension, presses on. "Come on, mate, don't be modest. Emma told Lily it went really well. Said you two really hit it off."

You feel as if all the air has been sucked out of your lungs. The documents in your arms suddenly feel impossibly heavy.

Lando runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you've come to recognize. "It wasn't… I mean, it was just lunch, Oscar. Don't make a big deal out of it."

"I'm just saying," Oscar continues, still grinning, "she seems really into you. Might be worth giving it a shot, yeah? It's about time you settled down with someone nice."

You can't bear to hear any more. "I should get these to the engineers," you mutter, already turning away. "See you guys later."

As you walk away, you hear Lando call out your name, but you don't stop. You can't stop. If you stop, you might fall apart right there in the middle of the paddock.

You make it to the back of the garage before you hear rapid footsteps behind you. "Hey, wait up," Lando's voice comes from behind you, slightly out of breath.

You turn slowly, trying to school your features into a neutral expression. "What is it, Lando? I'm kind of busy."

He looks at you, his eyes searching your face. "About what Oscar said… it's not what you think."

"What do I think, Lando?" you raise an eyebrow, fighting to keep your voice steady. "We never defined what this is, remember? You're free to have lunch with whoever you want."

"It was just a favor for Oscar," Lando steps closer, lowering his voice. "His girlfriend's friend is new in town, and they asked if I'd show her around. That's all it was, I swear."

You want to believe him. God, how you want to believe him. But the memory of those blissful days during the summer break, followed by days of silence and now this… it's too much.

"Look, Lando," you say, hating how your voice wavers slightly, "we both knew this couldn't last. We have jobs to do, careers to think about. Maybe… maybe this is for the best."

"What? No, that's not…" Lando starts, reaching for your arm, but you step back.

"I really need to get these to the engineers," you say, gesturing with the documents still clutched to your chest like a shield. "We should both focus on the race this weekend. That's what we're here for, right?"

Without waiting for a response, you turn and walk away, your vision blurring slightly as you blink back tears. You can feel Lando's gaze boring into your back, but you don't turn around. You can't.

As you round the corner, out of sight from the main garage, you lean against the wall for a moment, taking deep breaths to compose yourself. The rational part of your brain knows you're overreacting, that you should hear Lando out. But the emotional part, the part that's been dreading this moment since this situationship began, is in full fight or flight mode.

With one final deep breath, you push off the wall and head towards the engineering room, burying your personal turmoil beneath layers of race strategy and tire calculations. Lando Norris was consuming every part of you.

The tension between you and Lando remains palpable throughout the race weekend. You both maintain focused on your jobs, but there's a hint that something is not right with you.

The truth is, your situation with Lando has been consuming you for weeks now. What started as a casual arrangement has grown into something much deeper, at least for you.

The more time you spend with Lando, the harder you fall for him. And it's terrifying. Being casual isn't enough anymore; it hasn't been for a while. You've reached a point where you don't think you can continue this way. The pain of loving him in secret, of always being on the edge of something more but never quite reaching it, is becoming unbearable. You need clarity, commitment - or you need to walk away before you lose yourself completely.

To make matters more complicated, Lando wins the race at Zandvoort, securing his second victory of the season—one he had been craving since Miami. Your heart breaks even more as you realize you can't even celebrate this moment with him properly. Watching him on the podium, champagne in hand and pure joy radiating from his face, you feel like crying right there.

You want to run to him, throw yourself into his arms and celebrate with him, tell him how proud you feel and how much he deserves this. But you can't, not until whatever is going on between you gets sorted out.

It's not until after the race, when the celebrations cool down and the team begins to pack up, that Lando finally corners you in a quiet moment.

"Can we talk?" he asks, his voice low and urgent. "Please?"

You hesitate, glancing around the garage. Most of the team is busy with post-race duties, paying you no attention. With a sigh, you nod and follow Lando to a more secluded area behind the motorhome.

"First of all, congratulations on the win. You really deserve it," you say as soon as you're alone, trying to keep your voice steady.

Lando gives you a bittersweet smile. "Thanks, but that's not what occupies my mind right now," he replies, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes your heart race, "I don't understand what happened back there. Why won't you believe me about Oscar's friend?"

You cross your arms, a defensive posture you're all too aware of. "It's not just about her, Lando. It's… everything."

"What do you mean, everything?" he asks, brow furrowed.

"I mean this whole situation," you take a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts, "I thought I could handle it, but…"

"But what?" Lando steps closer, his voice softening, "Talk to me, please."

"But it's getting harder," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Every time I see you with someone else, every time we have to pretend there's nothing between us, it hurts a little more."

Lando reaches for your hand, and this time you don't pull away. "You're the only one I want," he says earnestly. "You have to know that."

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. "You always say that, Lando. But you still won't fully commit to me. It's hard to believe it when you won't put a label on us, when you go out with other women-"

"That wasn't a date," Lando interrupts, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "I told you, it was just a favor for Oscar."

"I know, I know," you say, pulling your hand away and running it through your hair. "But that's not the point. The point is, I don't know where I stand with you. We've been doing this dance for over a year now, and I still don't know what we are to each other."

"I thought you were okay with this. With us staying without a label. You agreed to keep things casual."

"I was okay with it," you turn away, blinking back tears. "But it's not enough anymore. At least, not for me."

There's a long moment of silence. When you turn back, Lando is staring at the ground, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"What are you saying?" he asks finally, his voice small.

"I'm saying that I can't do this anymore, Lando," you say firmly, "I want more. I need more."

"We agreed it was too complicted," Lando looks up at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable, "That we couldn't be in a relationship."

"I know what we agreed," you say, your voice cracking slightly. "But feelings change. People change. I've changed, Lando. And I can't keep putting my heart on hold for a someday that might never come."

Lando steps forward, reaching for you again. "Please, don't do this. We can figure it out. I'll try to be more open about us. We can tell our friends."

You shake your head, cutting him off. "It's not just about telling people, Lando. It's about commitment. It's about knowing that when I go home at night, I'm not just someone in your bed. It's about building a future together, not just living for the moment."

"I don't know if I can give you that. Not right now," Lando's face falls. "My career is at a great point, and-"

"And mine isn't?" you interrupt, a flash of anger cutting through your sadness. "Do you think I'm not risking just as much as you are? If not more? But I'm willing to take that risk because what we have… what we could have… it's worth it to me."

You watch as emotions play across Lando's face - confusion, fear, longing. Finally, he speaks, his voice barely audible. "I don't want to lose you."

Your heart aches, but you stand your ground. "Then give me a reason to stay, Lando. Show me that I'm more than just a convenient distraction between races."

Lando opens his mouth to respond, but you hold up a hand to stop him. "Don't answer now. Think about it. Really think about what you want. Because I can't keep going on like this. It's not fair to either of us."

With that, you turn and walk away, leaving Lando standing alone behind the motorhome. As you make your way back to the garage, you can feel the weight of unshed tears burning behind your eyes. But you don't let them fall. Not here, not now.

You've laid your cards on the table. Now it's up to Lando to decide what he's willing to do with them.

The Monza race weekend flies by in a whirlwind of noise and action. You keep yourself busy, diving deep into numbers and race plans to avoid thinking about your feelings. It's easier to focus on tire strategies and pit stop timings than to deal with the ache in your chest every time you see Lando.

When you do have to talk to Lando, you both act normal and professional. But there's a tension in the air between you, like a tight rubber band ready to snap. You catch others giving you worried looks sometimes, and it makes you feel even more on edge.

Lando has not given you any kind of response to your talk in Zandvoort, and it's been just a week, but you feel like you know his answer. He's not willing to give you what you ask for. And it hurts, more than you can say.

As Sunday night gets closer, whispers of Carlos Sainz's birthday celebration begin to circulate through the paddock. You know Lando will definitely go - he and Carlos are really close friends. A small part of you wishes you could go too. You imagine laughing with your coworkers, having a drink, and forgetting about all the drama for a while.

But then you think about seeing Lando there. You picture having to smile and act like everything's fine when it's not. The thought of making awkward small talk with him, or worse, seeing him chatting happily with someone else, makes your stomach churn. It feels like too much to handle right now.

In the end, the thought of facing Lando and all those people is just too much. You decide to skip the party, even though a part of you feels guilty and a bit left out. But the relief you feel at making this decision tells you it's the right choice for now.

As the sun begins to set after the race and everyone gets ready for the party, you retreat to your hotel room. You order room service – a plate of pasta that you barely touch – and settle in for a quiet evening alone. You try to lose yourself in a book, but the words blur on the page, your mind constantly wandering to thoughts of Lando. Is he at the party now? Is he having fun? Is he thinking of you at all?

Meanwhile, at Carlos' birthday celebration, Lando finds himself struggling to enjoy the party. He mingles half-heartedly, his laugh a beat too late, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He can't help but scan the room periodically, hoping against hope that you might have changed your mind and decided to come.

Max, observant as ever and knowing his friend too well, notices Lando's distraction and pulls him aside.

"You alright, mate?" Max asks, "You look like you'd rather be anywhere but here."

Lando sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Is it that obvious?"

Max nods, taking a sip of his drink. "Want to talk about it?"

For a moment, Lando considers brushing it off, but the weight of the past week suddenly feels too heavy to bear alone. "It's about her," he admits quietly.

Max doesn't need to ask who 'her' is. By now he knows the situation his friend is caught up in, "Trouble in paradise?" he asks.

"More like paradise lost," Lando lets out a humorless laugh, "I think I really messed up, Max. I was so worried about keeping things casual, about not complicating our working relationship, that I didn't realize how fucked up the whole thing was."

"So what are you going to do about it?" Max asks.

Lando looks around the room, at the laughing faces and clinking glasses, and suddenly feels very out of place. "I don't know. I just know I can't be here right now. Not when things are like this between us."

"Then go," he says simply. "Go find her. Talk to her. Life's too short for regrets, especially in our line of work."

Lando looks at Max, a hint of his usual playful smile returning despite the situation. "When did you become so wise, Verstappen? Did all those championship trophies finally knock some sense into you?"

"Someone has to be the voice of reason around here," Max rolls his eyes, but there's a fond smile on his face, "Now go on, get out of here before Carlos finds you and makes you stay, I'll distract him."

"Thanks, Max. I owe you one," Lando chuckles, patting his back.

"You owe me several, but who's counting?" Max grins, clapping Lando on the shoulder. "Now go get your girl."

With a newfound sense of purpose, Lando slips out of the party. His heart pounds as he makes his way to your hotel, not even sure if you would want to talk to him.

When he's finally standing in front of you door, he knocks softly, hope and fear warring in his chest as he waits for you to answer.

You're curled up on the bed, still trying and failing to focus on your book, when you hear the knock. Confused, you glance at the clock - it's barely past 10 PM. The party should still be in full swing. Who could be at your door?

As you pad over to the door and peer through the peephole, your breath catches in your throat. It's Lando, looking slightly disheveled, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

You hesitate, your hand on the doorknob. Part of you wants to fling the door open and throw yourself into his arms. But another part, the part that's been hurt and confused for the past week, holds you back.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you slowly open the door, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the emotions inside you.

"Lando?" you say, trying to sound calm even though your heart is racing. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at Carlos' party."

Lando looks a bit messy, like he rushed over. He shifts from foot to foot, looking nervous. "I was," he says. "But I couldn't stay. Not when you weren't there."

You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. You're trying to protect yourself, even though you want to believe him. "You left your best friend's birthday party early because of me?"

Lando nods, looking right at you. His eyes are so intense it makes your heart beat even faster. "Can I come in? I think we need to talk."

You hesitate for a moment. You're scared of getting hurt again, but you also really want to hear what he has to say, even if it breaks your heart. Finally, you step back and let him in.

As he passes by, you catch a whiff of his cologne mixed with the faint scent of the paddock - a combination that's uniquely Lando and achingly familiar.

Lando walks into the room, running a hand through his hair. "I've been doing a lot of thinking this past week," he begins, turning to face you. "About us."

Your heart starts to race, but you force yourself to remain calm. "And?" you prompt, when he doesn't continue.

"And you were right. About everything," Lando takes a deep breath, "I've been so focused on not complicating things, that I didn't realize how much I was hurting you.”

"Lando, I-"

"Please, let me finish," Lando interrupts you softly, "The truth is, I've been scared. Terrified, actually. Of commitment, of letting someone in completely, of potentially damaging our careers if things went wrong. But this past week without you… it's been hell", he takes a step closer to you, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I've dated before, had relationships, but nothing has ever felt like this. What we have… it's different. Special. And I've been an idiot for not seeing it sooner."

Your breath catches in your throat as Lando continues, his words coming faster now, as if he's afraid he'll lose his nerve if he doesn't get them all out. "I kept telling myself that keeping things casual was the smart thing to do. That it was protecting both of us. But all I've done is push you away and make you doubt how much you mean to me."

He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you've seen him do countless times when he's nervous or frustrated. "The truth is, I'm crazy about you. I think about you all the time. When something good happens, you're the first person I want to tell. When something goes wrong, you're the one I want to turn to. And it scares the hell out of me because I've never felt this way about anyone before."

Your heart is pounding so hard you're sure Lando must be able to hear it. You want to speak, to tell him how much his words mean to you, but you can see he's not finished yet.

"I know I've messed up. I know I've hurt you by not being clear about my feelings, by not giving you the commitment you deserve. And I'm so, so sorry for that," Lando's voice cracks slightly, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes. "But if you're willing to give me another chance, I want to do this right. No more hiding, no more pretending we're just casual. I want to be with you, properly. I want to tell our friends, take you on proper dates. I want everything."

He takes another step closer, close enough now that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. "I can't promise it'll be easy. Our careers, the media attention, the travel - it's all going to be complicated. But I'm willing to fight for this, for us, if you are."

You stand there, momentarily stunned by Lando's words. Your mind is racing, trying to process everything he's just said. You've dreamed of hearing something like this from him for so long, but now that it's happening, you find yourself almost paralyzed.

Taking a shaky breath, you finally find your voice. "Lando, I… I don't know what to say. This is everything I've wanted to hear from you, but I'm scared too. What if we try this and it doesn't work out? What if we end up ruining our friendship, our work relationship?"

Lando's hand finally makes contact with your cheek, his touch impossibly gentle. "Those are all valid fears," he says softly. "And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about the same things. But I think what we have is worth the risk. Don't you?"

You lean into his touch, your eyes closing for a moment as you savor the feeling. When you open them again, you see Lando looking at you with such tenderness it makes your heart ache.

"I do," you whisper. "I really do. But Lando, I need you to be sure, if we do this, I need all of you. No more half measures, no more hiding."

Lando nods, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "I'm sure. I want all of you, and I want to give you all of me in return."

The sincerity in his voice, the look in his eyes - it's everything you've been longing for. Unable to resist any longer, you close the distance between you and press your lips to Lando's. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if you're both afraid this moment might shatter. But then Lando's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepens.

It's not your first kiss, not by a long shot, but it feels different this time. There's a promise in this kiss, a commitment that wasn't there before.

You pour all your pent-up emotions - the longing, the frustration, the love you've been holding back. Lando responds with equal passion, one hand tangling in your hair while the other presses against the small of your back.

When you finally break apart, Lando rests his forehead against yours, a smile playing on his lips.

"I've missed you so much," he murmurs. The relief and happiness that flood Lando's face are beautiful to see.

"I've missed you too," you admit. "More than I wanted to admit, even to myself."

Lando's hands start to wander, tracing patterns on your back that make you shiver, you melt at his touch, but then your mind starts racing again.

"Where do we go from here, Lan?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando takes a moment to consider your question, his hands still gently caressing your back. He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, his expression a mix of tenderness and determination.

"Well," he starts, a small smile playing on his lips, "I think we take it one step at a time. We don't need to rush anything, but we also don't need to hide anymore."

You nod, encouraging him to continue.

"First things first," Lando says, his voice growing more confident, "I want to take you on a proper date. No sneaking around, no pretending we're just colleagues grabbing a quick bite. I want to take you somewhere nice, hold your hand in public, and not care who sees us."

The thought makes your heart flutter. "I'd like that," you reply softly.

You wrap your arms around him, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. For the first time in a long while, you feel truly happy and hopeful about the future.

"So," Lando says after a moment, a hint of mischief in his voice, "since I left Carlos' party early to come here... does that mean I get to stay the night?"

You laugh, playfully swatting his arm. "Cheeky," you tease, but there's no real accusation in your voice. Instead, you lean in and kiss him.

As the kiss intensifies, you both start moving towards the bed, hands roaming and clothes starting to come off. This time, there's no holding back, no pretending this is just a casual thing. Every touch, every kiss is infused with the promise of something lasting.

Two weeks later, you're in Baku for the Azerbaijan Grand Prix.

You're in the McLaren garage, eyes fixed on your tablet as you analyze the latest telemetry data. The familiar sounds of mechanics working and engineers discussing strategy fill the air, but you're completely focused on your task.

Suddenly, you sense a pair of eyes on you. Without turning, a smile tugs at your lips. You know exactly who it is.

"See something you like?" you ask playfully, still not looking up from your work.

You hear a low chuckle, then feel a warm presence behind you. "Just admiring my girlfriend," Lando's voice is soft, meant only for your ears.

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you gently against him. His lips brush your shoulder in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine.

The past fortnight has been a whirlwind of emotions and adjustments. True to his word, Lando has taken you on proper dates and you've made your relationship official. You still feel giddy every time Lando calls you his girlfriend, a fact that hasn't escaped his notice. He seems to take particular joy in introducing you as such, his eyes always seeking out your reaction.

"How's the data looking?" he says, giving you a quick squeeze.

"Pretty good, actually," you turn back to your tablet, but remain in his loose embrace. "Your last practice session showed some promising improvements in sector two."

"That's my girl," Lando murmurs, pride evident in his voice. "Always making me look good."

You chuckle, elbowing him gently. "You do that all on your own, superstar. I just provide the numbers."

You turn in Lando's arms, facing him with a soft smile. The garage bustles around you, but in this moment, it feels like you're in your own little bubble.

"You know," you say, your voice low, "I never thought I'd be standing here like this with you. In the middle of the garage, no less."

Lando's eyes crinkle as he grins, his hands resting comfortably on your waist. "Having second thoughts?" he teases.

"Not at all," you shake your head, your smile widening. "It's just different. Good different."

"The best kind of different," Lando agrees, echoing his words from that night in your hotel room.

"I should probably get back to work," you say reluctantly, not making any move to step away.

Lando nods, but doesn't loosen his hold on you. "Probably," he agrees, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But first…"

He leans in, pressing a quick but tender kiss to your lips. It's brief, mindful of your surroundings, but filled with promise.

As he pulls back, you can't help but laugh softly. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"You love it," Lando grins, finally releasing you from his embrace.

"I do," you admit, your heart full. "Now go on, superstar. You've got a car to drive soon."

As you watch him blow you a kiss which made you throw your head back in laughter as he left, your heart feels full.

You and Lando. Lando and You. Finally, together.

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

OKAY I HAVE ONE MORE!! I just read the post you did where s/o got injured after getting in a fight, and I'd love to know how Jamil, Trey, Ruggie, Jade, and Deuce would react if their s/o tried to hide the fact they got hurt? Either because they didn't want to be a bother or because they knew the guys were busy and didn't want to add to their plate. Even going as far as avoiding them for a day or two while trying to (badly) nurse their wounds.

Deuce Spade:

Deuce can’t be entirely mad at you since that would be the same thing he would do. He wouldn’t want you to worry about him either, but now he sees how that can actually hurt more. You had never given him a reason to be dishonest before and he hoped you saw from his calm reaction that you didn’t have to fear confiding in him, either. He was here to be your support if you didn’t want his protection, he just needed you to at least let him in on what was happening. He’d stop anything to take care of you and he makes that clear, wearing an intense expression as he made you promise to tell him if you were hurt like this again.  

Jade Leech:

Jade could always smell blood in the water. While he allowed you to foolishly believe you were hiding your wounds from him, he was aware from the beginning that you were injured. If you were trying to hide it from him than he wasn’t going to point it out until he saw how far you were willing to go to keep your secret. It’s almost amusing that you’d rather be in pain rather than tell him you’re hurt but once your pain is too great to hide, he smoothly let you know he had a few nursing skills as he and Floyd used to play rough as children. He doesn’t ask how you got the wounds (he already knows) nor does he point out that he knew you hid it from him, simply smiling at you and knowing he had you sweating it out on whether you were going to confess or not.

Jamil Viper:

It feels a little like betrayal to Jamil. While he didn’t want the stress of having to care for your wounds thrust upon him (even if he’d do so anyway), he didn’t like that you apparently didn’t trust him enough to tell him. Had he done something to deserve you purposely keeping secrets from him? Your relationship had been tumultuous at first but he had thought you found a comfortable middle ground, where you were both content even if there was still more to learn about each other. He helped clean you up as he can’t help but call you out when you’re clearly in pain, scowling the entire time as he couldn’t bite back his anger at you hiding away your injuries from him. He was clearly hurt and told you to just tell him next time to save him the anxiety of thinking he did something wrong, as he could at least escort you to the nurse.

Ruggie Bucchi:

Ruggie sighed, wondering how you always managed to attract trouble to you.He doesn’t seem to take your you hiding your injury from him personally, saying he might’ve done the same as some things are just too mortifying to admit to. He grinned as he said he appreciated you not getting him into trouble with you, as he certainly got into more than enough with Leona and the others in Savanaclaw. Still, if you were hurt and needed someone to lean on you should come to him, as a wounded animal separated from the pack would get killed.  

Trey Clover:

Trey sighed, knowing it was partially his own fault as he piled his worries onto you without thinking of how you might view that. He dealt with the trouble he was handed because he knew how to, and while it was too much from time to time, you were hardly the cause of most of his troubles. He didn’t want you to hide something like an injury from him just because he seemed busy, even if he couldn’t help directly, he would have been able to get you the suitable treatment and check in on you later. You’re scolded directly and it leaves you worried he might be mad at you forever, since it was so rare to see him annoyed like this. Those thoughts end when you wake up the next morning with fresh baked goods and a note saying to text him when you finally awoke so he could check in on you.  

[cheriebrat]

Bucky gently wiping his girl’s never ending tears as she tries to apologize for trying to escape a third time, promising him she’ll never do it again only for him to chain her back up for the rest of the night but he knows that she’ll be his perfect little Stockholm princess in no time, especially when the winter soldier is there to help sort her out💞

fuckkkkkk.

warnings; fem!reader, kidnapping, early stages of stockholm syndrome, soft but manipulative bucky, mentions of the winter soldier coming out to play (😏), (perhaps opportunity for an au here!!!)

Your cheeks are glossy with the seemingly never ending wave of tears that portend their descent over your flushed cheeks. Your pulse thrums against your neck, skittering like a nervous doe when Bucky's thumb slides over the tender spot beneath your jaw. His amorous touch only serves to have you sobbing harder, tearing at the loose fitting tee that hangs around your neck as though the fabric is suffocating you.

"Shh, shh," Bucky coos, a thumb coasting the length of your waterline – a futile attempt to plug your tear ducts and slow the second onslaught of frantic tears. "Take it easy."

"I'm sorry," you wail. "I'm sorry. Shouldn't have done it."

Your breath comes in wheezing pants, voice petering out into a whisper as terror's icy grip clamps around your throat and you start to sob in earnest. Bucky sighs, scooping you up tight against his chest and pressing a chaste peck to your sweat-slick temple.

You thrash and cant away from the touch, your body poised tightly and waiting for the punishing blow that is no doubt on its way. His arms tighten over your frame, biceps bulging with the effort it's taking to keep you from squirming out of his grip.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, baby. Stop," he growls, his voice a harsh, grating bite against your fragile ears. Bucky's cadence had come out crueller than he would have liked, and he pets your hair in an effort to dissuade you from panicking beneath his firm grasp.

"Please, I won't do it again. You have to believe me, I'll never do it again," you snivel, bowing your head low until your features are obscured.

"You said that last time, sweetheart," he murmurs. "You can't keep doin' this. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Bile crawls up your throat, hot and fast. Your chest burns.

"I feel sick."

"I know." He pulls the hair back from your balmy cheeks as you start to retch and heave, sobs still clawing from your chest all the while. You know what comes next, as does he.

"Please don't- don't put me down there. Please, I'm sorry."

"Do you need me to let Winter out, hm? You want him to take you down there, or me?"

You go stock still. Everything slows, Bucky's voice sticking to your ears like syrup. "No, no. I'll be good, I'm sorry," you croak, lips filling with air as you suppress another retch.

The mere mention of the soldier is enough to halt every ounce of defiance in your body. Winter is far less forgiving than Bucky, and you're not willing to take your chances.

Not tonight.

"There's my good girl," he murmurs, smearing a sticky kiss along your cheekbone. "You stay down there tonight and be good for me, and we'll do something nice tomorrow, how about that?" he bargains. "I'll let you pick a movie to watch, and you can sleep in bed with me for as long as you want, yeah?"

You sag like dead weight against Bucky's chest, seeping up the warmth of the skin-on-skin contact while you still have the chance. You're in for a very long - very cold - night.

"Please don't do this to me," you whisper. Desperation clings to your every syllable, weighs down every word you speak until your voice is thick with tears.

"You know I have to, sweetheart."

His kindness makes it worse, you think. If he was cruel, if he didn't show you this... softness, maybe you could find it in yourself to hate him.

But the way he lets you cling to him, kisses the top of your head as he delivers your punishment, murmuring soft, adoring affirmations all the while... You just can't.

And you know when he lets you out in the morning, you'll be good for him. You'll accept him, in his entirety. You'll let him kiss you and tuck you into his side like you've always been there. You'll let him love you.

Maybe you can learn to love him, too.

Bucky knows you can. He just has to give it time.

[paperbackribs]

tags: steddie, nsfw, the homoeroticism of knowing you could treat them better

🥵🍆💦

"Okay," Robin smirks at Eddie as she pops the open button on the microwave in Steve’s kitchen, "But you understand how pathetically gay you sound right now, yes?" She pulls out a fragrant paper bag of popcorn; she says that she likes to have an extra bag before retiring after one of their movie nights.

Eddie scowls, forgetting that Steve's in the next room as he becomes revved up over a pet peeve that is less pet and more a wild animal, "It's not gay to appreciate a work of art." He gestures wildly, the lights above catch on his heavy silver rings, "It's not gay to understand that a sweet, beautiful boy is tragically unloved."

Robin snorts, pulling open the edges of the paper bag, releasing a plume of buttery steam, "No, pretty sure that's pretty gay. Next thing I know you'll declare 'no homo' while sucking his dick."

"I'd suck his dick better than Brittany or Betta or Betsy or whatever her name was," Eddie declares, sore at the memory of Steve's broken brow as he'd explained that his latest date had ridden his face and then gave him a pat on his shoulder, explaining that it was a nice time but not to expect a callback.

What an idiot, Eddie fumes to himself, neglecting to notice the shifting shadows in the hallway behind him; who doesn't enjoy a man who vehemently and vocally declares his love for going down on his partners? Eddie would kill for a partner willing to suck him dry.

Eddie may have blamed the deficiency on the female of the species, but Steve had allowed Eddie in the inner sanctum a few months ago: letting him know that it wasn’t only Robin and Eddie who were vehement friends of Dorothy, even if it was only Steve who enjoyed the full spectrum of the rainbow. And while B-whatever-her-name-was may be the source of Eddie’s ire right now, he knows that Steve has had likewise lousy luck with men whenever they’d ventured for their weekend nights out to Indy.

Each and every time Eddie had to endure Steve’s sad face a week or two later as he’d admitted that he thought his night’s partner may be up for more than just a brief bit of fun. And each and every time he’s been left dumbfounded because—

Eddie pulls at his hair, trying to work it out because—

Well. He can only imagine that every single person that’s walked away from Steve’s beautiful lips couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with a fucking canon with the intelligence left over in their little pea brains. Because Steve Harrington is a goddamn catch and every one of them has let him escape their grasp.

Eddie’s too busy scowling down at his Reeboks to see Robin look over his shoulder and softly laugh. She scoops a handful of popcorn into her mouth as she swiftly leaves the kitchen, calling out, “I’m claiming the spare bedroom tonight—the one at the far end—see ya.”

Eddie looks up at the last minute, wondering at her sudden exit.

The air shifts again but Eddie doesn’t realise it until Steve’s right behind him. "Her name was Bella," Seve says in a low caress, close enough that his warm breath rustles Eddie's loose curls.

He stops, frozen, the touch of Steve's words making Eddie ache for something that he's wanted for such a very long time even as he’s unwilling to allow himself to think that Steve could mean anything by leaning in so close. But he can’t help but shiver, a tiny movement that brings his lips against Steve's sharp jaw, nearly stuttering, "Who?"

Strong arms wrap around him, bringing the broad planes of Steve’s chest against Eddie’s back, blunt fingers coming up to grip his jaw, directing Eddie’s lips to just under Steve’s.

Eddie freezes again in desperation, every single fantasy converging at once to break his brain and body while he tries to understand that the arms, hands and fingers wrapped around him are not an invention of a daydream.

"I’m saying,” Steve says patiently, eyeing Eddie with a dark gaze over his firm grip, "That I want you. Not Brittany or Betta or Betsy."

Eddie swallows around the knot in his throat.

"Just you," Steve repeats, a steady weight holding down his words that has Eddie’s gaze flying up to meet the hard pressure of hazel eyes bearing down on him. A force that has Eddie’s heart knocking heavily against his ribs, his breath shuddering against his frame, pressing taut and bullying against the thin of Eddie’s skin as he meets Steve’s expectant gaze.

And suddenly Eddie is angry.

Furious.

He’s had to endure weeks and months of listening to Steve be sad. Listening to Steve tell of glum exploits where women and men haven’t appreciated his freely-given love. Where it hadn’t mattered how quickly and devotedly Steve would put himself forward, that his partner would pat him on the back and distance him or herself after.

Eddie is furious and he glares at Steve’s beautiful hazel eyes, so close to his own and suddenly wide at the clear fury in Eddie’s eyes. Steve stumbles back, “What…” But Eddie lowers himself decisively, knees falling to the ground with a clear thump and thighs spreading as he knows with a deep conviction that he’s finally interpreting Steve’s actions correctly.

He looks up with dark eyes and presses into the tentative hand that falls against Eddie’s nape; Steve’s brows pull together, doubt drawing at them, “Eddie…”

Eddie glares up at Steve with all the strength of emotion running through him like the swift currents of a river. “No Steve, that’s it. That’s fucking it.”

He determinedly wraps his fingers around the zipper of Steve’s Levi’s and, as Steve chokes out his name again, Eddie glares up at him, daring Steve to take his prize away. “No, I’m done. You’ve given me permission now. You’ve given me a sliver of hope, and you’re not fucking taking it away.”

Eddie swiftly draws down the zipper, pulling down denim and soft cotton until Steve’s already hard cock bobs in front of him and he reaches forward quickly, hand already at its base and mouth open as he’s about to swallow him down but Steve’s hand buries itself in Eddie’s curls, gripping him tight.

“Do you want me?” Steve breathes and Eddie somehow finds it in himself to glower deeper, scowling up at Steve while refusing to speak. Inching forward until the tip of Steve’s cock hovers over Eddie’s open mouth. Steve curses and a heavy pearl of fluid drops from the tip to Eddie’s outstretched tongue. Eyes closing in contentment, he hears Steve choke as Eddie almost hums around the welcome flavour.

“Right,” Steve rasps roughly before pushing forward to rest against Eddie’s lips, he traces the heavy beads from his weeping slit against the petals of his mouth, breath running ragged before pressing further.

Eddie gasps, stretching his lips wide and pushing in and forward to embrace the cock intruding his mouth. His lashes flutter as he finally has the heavy weight of Steve’s cock resting on his tongue, stretching his mouth obscenely open before peering up to check where Steve’s at.

He needn’t have worried because Steve’s own mouth is hanging open with eyes darkly trained on Eddie. “So fucking pretty,” Steve gasps, gripping Eddie’s head to pull him closer. Choking Eddie as he moans, “Yes, fucking, yes, baby. Take it.” And Eddie does. Gratefully. Happily. Fucking swallows and devours and pistons back and forward until the bitter musk dripping from Steve’s dick is greedily consumed, taken within.

Steve cries out, throbbing powerfully and pouring into Eddie. Spilling and overflowing, fucking against his face until beads flood and stream out of his mouth. Eddie lets out a long, guttural and broken sound, grateful for the blessing that Steve fills him with.

He’s so consumed with the feel of Steve in him, surrounding him, that he barely registers the hardness in his own black denim until Steve drops to his knees too, meeting Eddie face to face before falling forward, fingers working his zipper open and mouth swallowing him whole.

Eddie gasps at the sudden sensation of the hot welcoming cavern of Steve’s mouth. He bucks, lightning shooting up his spine and overwhelmed at the attention as he thrusts once, twice and another before shuddering as he releases into Steve’s warm embrace.

Gasping, Eddie’s head falls forward to stare down at Steve in wonderment. In clear awe as he stares down at the beautiful boy in his lap. Mind blissed but still a niggle worries at the back of his mind, enough to have his hand reaching forward to Steve’s face, cupping his cheek and bringing him up to meet Eddie.

“Sweetheart,” the endearment drops from Eddie’s mouth without his permission.

Steve’s lips tug up, spreading in a grin and widening his eyes, “You want me, don’t you?” He asks, almost breathless.

“Yes. Fucking yes.” Eddie has nothing but honesty to his name at this point.

Steve smiles. Smug and fucking so proud of himself. He leans forward, “Then take me,” he whispers.

And Eddie does.

❤️ More steddie here

[luveline]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble

Can I request shy!reader and Derek? Maybe where she's really shy about pda but she finally works up the courage to hold his hand or kiss his cheek in public and he just melts <3

tysm! ♡

"Penelope, I'm not wearing that." 

Penelope waves the custom t-shirt she's made at him threateningly. "Yes, you will, because you love me and you love Hotch and he deserves our support." 

She's created matching garb for their entire team as well as any partner willing to support Hotch. "This is his second triathlon, and he's very much going to remember last year's triathlon and his now ex-girlfriend. Plus, it's for charity!" She slaps his chest with the shirt. "Put it on." 

You smile at his reaction, the fond clench of his jaw, his rolling eyes as he peels out of his t-shirt. The smile quickly stifles, mouth dry as the Sahara in seconds. The tight pack of his abs ripple in the sunlight, dark skin practically glistening. 

"It's too hot for this," he complains. 

Penelope nudges you. "He can say that again." 

Derek squeezes into his shirt and laughs. "This better be the wrong size on accident." 

"Maybe." She leans down to grab another shirt from her tote bag, saying, "This should be the right size, sweetcheeks." 

Yours is big enough to wear over your original blouse easily. Derek glares at you without any real malice and swings an arm around your shoulders, dropping a kiss at your temple. "Looking good." 

Being with Derek has never made any sense to you. Or rather, Derek being with you has never made any sense —you'd be a fool to turn him down and he's a fool to think you're good enough. He's ridiculously attractive, a bombshell of a man, with ambition and a good heart, sweetness and heat alike practically drip from him. You're confused by him often and melted by him more, a melted puddle of a girl as he walks you to the crowd of BAU employees waiting at the finish line to cheer for Hotch.

Jack and Henry stand together, though Henry, JJ's son, is much smaller. Will crouches next to him to make sure he doesn't run anywhere he isn't supposed to, while JJ stands with Emily and Spencer, all already bedecked in their supportive t-shirts. 

There's a chorus of hellos as you join them. Everybody Derek cares about that isn't in Chicago stands in a bubble, and it terrifies you like always. You want to make a good impression. You don't want to let Derek down. 

Not that he cares about any of that. He knew you were shy to aching when you met and he has no intentions of trying to change you. "Sorry we're late," he says. "My fault."

Actually, it's your fault. You got the time wrong. But Derek doesn't embarrass you by telling them —your affection for him swells. 

He keeps a hand behind your back for a while. You sway under the huge sun beating down and on tired feet for a while, Hotch your saviour as he appears across the finish line. Will takes Jack to meet him, and Jack, the poor thing, gets a super sweaty hug.

Hotch isn't first to finish, but he runs a good time. 

"Better than last year's!" Emily cheers. 

Penelope wolf whistles. You clap your hands with Spencer, pleased if feeling a little out of place. 

"Maybe I'll sign up for next year's triathlon," Derek says, grinning. 

You know he's kidding, but Derek could do anything he set his mind to. You go on tiptoes and kiss his cheek. "I'd cheer you on," you say earnestly, stepping back, wiping the tiny balmy kiss print you've left behind. 

Derek looks at you plainly startled. Your heart skips a beat, worried you've overstepped. 

"Can I get another one of those, or are they in limited supply?" he asks, warm and quiet, not an inch of bravado to be seen. 

You turn back the unfolding scene of victory in front of you, "Maybe later." 

Derek is noticeably sweet on you for hours, and declares at dinner that he'll be joining Hotch in next year's triathlon. You reach for his hand under the table and nod along. You'd love to see him at the finish line. 

[kikidoesfanfic]

Woof, I mean, hey

Written for the @strangerthingswritersguild demogorgon daily prompt 'puppy chow' (happy birthday @bobamews)

>On ao3<

"I'd keep an eye on that if I were you," Wayne says, gesturing at the bag of dog food Steve's carrying.

There's a stray that's taken up hiding under the Munson trailer, all round with a litter and such a sweetheart, Steve has been trying to befriend her enough to coax her inside for a bath for a few days now.

"Uncle Wayne, no!" Eddie whines, and now Steve's intrigued, Wayne's looking at Eddie with a positively shit eating grin, the two having a staredown neither seems willing to break.

"What am I keeping an eye out for exactly?" Steve asks.

"Well, back when Eddie first came to live with me,"

"Wayne please."

"There was this skittish little pup hangin' round the park, skinny as anythin' and nobody seemed to own it."

"I'll do the dishes for a month," Eddie says, and Wayne pauses, probably tempted because he hates doing the dishes, and with Steve cooking most nights both Munson men trade off on the chore. He must decide it's worth it though, because he continues.

"So, Eddie begged and begged, big sad cow eyes that I couldn't say no to." Wayne looks to Steve now, "of course I had to buy a little bag of the puppy chow, the kibble stuff."

Eddie, knowing Wayne is unmovable, dramatically flops face down onto the couch.

"But see, the scrawny thing wouldn't get close to eat the food when we were out there, even birds scared the little guy away. So Eddie-" Wayne says, starting to chuckle. "So Eddie thought-" he cuts himself off again with another laugh, Eddie groaning in protest, slightly muffled by the sofa cushion.

"Eddie thought if the pup saw him eatin' the food, he'd know it was safe, that he was safe."

"Aww Eddie, that's so cute!" Steve coos, dropping the bag beside the door to go over and kneel next to the couch.

"Yep, that's me, so cute." Eddie says quickly, head popping up to glare at his uncle. "And that's where the story ends, right Uncle Wayne."

"Sure," he acquiesces, and Eddie looks momentarily relieved until Wayne tacks on, "if you ignore the part where he decided they tasted pretty good as a snack and hid half the bag in his room for later."

"BETRAYAL," Eddie shouts, jumping up on the couch to point an accusatory finger at Wayne, "by my own flesh and blood!"

Steve, meanwhile, is laughing so hard he's bent double, he'd stood to make sure Eddie wouldn't fall off the couch when he yelled, but when Wayne's words processed... well.

"You kept eating it?" Steve wheezes, and Eddie turns to slap at his shoulder.

"No, go back, I'm cute remember! Wayne, look what you did!"

"I can get set some aside from the bag if you like, but I'm not kissing you if you have dog food breath." Steve says, and Wayne chuckles again.

"I changed my mind, pretty much immediately!"

"Yeah, but only 'cause-"

"NO. NOPE. TIME TO GO." Eddie yells, cutting Wayne off, jumping hastily from the couch and shoving at Steve to get him towards their room. "La la la la we can't hear you!"

"Only 'cause he felt guilty for stealing the dogs food" Wayne yells behind them, just as Eddie's about to slam the door.

"No," Eddie despairs, drawing out the word, thumping his head on the door frame a time or two before Steve can stop him. "You're the worst!" He turns and pouts, eyes big and imploring as he looks at Steve, "you can't tell anyone about this, the kids will never let me hear the end of it."

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me Eds," he says with a fond smile. "Though, I don't think it's me you have to worry about, won't Wayne be home during Hellfire this week?" Eddie's face turns panicked, hurrying back down the hallway, leaving a giggling Steve behind.

"Hey Uncle Wayne, I ever tell you you're the best Uncle a guy could have?"

[literaryavenger]

Back To You - Steve Rogers

Summary: You've always been there for Steve, and now you're watching him go back to the girl he always wanted.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Angst. Maybe language. Fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: This was supposed to be a Reader x Steve story, but I was too tempted to make reader end up with Bucky. So I decided to make two separate endings, the original with Steve and an alternate one where she ends with Bucky, if only for @ordelixx who gave me the idea. I'd also like to thank @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for the idea and for helping me write about other characters.

Masterlist

You know what’s about to happen. You know he’s gonna leave, you know he’s not gonna come back, you know you’ll never see him again.

You know he’s gonna try to have the life he always wanted with the girl he always wanted. The girl he loves.

And that girl is not you.

You watch him as he says goodbye to Bucky, you know he knows as well as you do that his best friend isn’t coming back.

Then Steve turns to you and you try your best to smile.

“I wish I had met you earlier.” he whispers as he kisses you on the forehead and you know in that instant this is really goodbye.

You smile and nod, not being able to get a word out, willing yourself not to cry.

He walks onto the platform and soon he’s gone.

You’ve been by Steve’s side ever since he came back from the ice. You were the agent assigned to watch over him, you were there when he woke up and had to run after him when he freaked out.

You were there during the battle of New York, during the fall of Shield in DC, during the whole Ultron incident and in Lagos.

You were on his side for the Accords, and you were by his side in London as he said goodbye to the love of his life. 

You were there with him and Sam in Romania to try and help Bucky, you were arrested with them and then helped fight the Winter Soldier, yet again.

You were on his side to fight against Tony and the rest of the Avengers, you got arrested again and were broken out of the Raft by him.

You spent two years on the run with him, and fought next to him in Wakanda.

You watched his dumb ass try to fight Thanos barehanded and you were quickly knocked down when you tried to help him.

You snapped like half the universe and apparently lost 5 years of your life. You came back, thanks to him, and fought against Thanos one last time.

And now you're watching him leave.

You were there to help him get accustomed to the 21st century, you were there for him on sleepless nights.

You were there for him as he cried for his lost friends, his lost love and his lost life. He always came to you when he needed to talk, to be held, help sleeping and even advise.

And you were always there for him, falling in love little by little against your better judgement.

You’re brought back to the present as you hear Sam freaking out on Bruce because Steve missed his mark and didn’t come back.

You look at Bucky and you both know what this means. He gives you a sympathetic smile and you try to give a smile back but fail.

You look away from him and take a deep breath. You turn around and start walking away.

You’re done here, and about to break down. Something you never allowed yourself to do in front of anybody, with the exception of Steve.

And now he’s gone.

You get in your car and quickly drive away, not looking back. You drive straight to Steve’s apartment.

You’ve been staying there since you came back while the compound gets fixed since your old apartment has been someone else’s home for the past 5 years.

Five years. That’s how long you’ve been gone. That’s how much of life you’ve missed. 

And now you’re left to pick up the pieces of your life by yourself, along with your broken heart.

If you were completely honest with yourself you always knew it wouldn’t have worked with Steve. You’ve never thought you were remotely good enough for him, and that was before even comparing yourself to Peggy. 

There was no doubt in your mind that she was Steve’s soulmate, and you’ve talked about her enough times to know he thought the same.

- Original Ending   -

You’re taken out of your thoughts by a knock on your door. You frown and cautiously walk to it, picking up your gun from its hiding place under the coffee table.

It’s probably nothing but better safe than sorry, right?

You take a peek from the peephole and frown even more when you see that whoever’s on the other side of the door covered it.

You ready your gun and take a deep breath, your hand on the doorknob. You open and lose no time pointing right in front of you, but you almost drop your gun along with your jaw when you see who’s standing there.

You almost feel like you’re dreaming so you pinch yourself, which makes him laugh and when that sound hits your ears you know you’re not hallucinating either.

Steve Rogers, the same face you’ve always known, standing right in front of you.

For a moment neither of you say anything, then he decides that maybe you’re too in shock to talk so he breaks the silence. 

“I’ve never knocked on my own door before. That was a wild ride.” He laughs again and at the sound you can’t help but let the tears you’ve been trying so hard to keep in fall.

The moment he sees the first tear Steve’s face falls and then he’s wrapping his arms around you, your face buried in his chest.

You slowly bring your own arms to wrap around his waist, almost worried that if you make any sudden moves he’s gonna disappear.

Once your arms are around him too, you realize it’s all real and he’s actually there and you let yourself go, crying your eyes out and clinging to him.

Suddenly, he picks you up and you hang onto him for dear life as he carries you back inside the apartment, closing the front door and then goes to sit on the couch with a still crying you on his lap.

He does nothing more than run his hand through your hair, rubbing your back with the other and letting you get it all out.

After a few minutes you start to calm down and finally get your voice back. “I thought you were gone forever.”

Of all the reactions he could’ve had, he surprises you with the only one you don't expect by chuckling. “You never were very patient, were you, sweetheart?”

You look up at him and frown, sniffling and softly say “What do you mean? You were gone… Bruce said you missed your mark.”

He nods and wipes away the rest of your tears while he talks. “I did. I put the wrong time by mistake. You know me and technology.”

“But… You and Peggy…” your frown is still in place, just not being able to believe that he came back.

Did you read the signs wrong? Was he always planning on coming back? Almost like he can read your mind, he starts giving you some answers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Once I was done returning the stones, I knew I had a chance to go back to the 40s and I was gonna take it. I thought I wanted to take it. But I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” You ask in a whisper.

“Because of you, doll.” He says without missing a beat with a sweet smile. “All I could think about was you. Your smile, your laugh, your strength. The way you tried so hard to be happy for me even though you thought I was leaving forever. The mere thought of not seeing you, not talking to you, not having you by my side, it killed me.”

You’re almost crying again, but you make yourself talk, needing clarification, your voice still quiet. “What are you saying, Steve?”

“I’m saying, there is no me and Peggy. It’s me and you. It’s been me and you from day one.” He takes your face in his hands and leans in more, your faces only inches apart. “And I’m an idiot for taking this long to figure it out. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Can you forgive me?”

You swallow down the tears threatening to fall again and waste no time before nodding, maybe a little too eagerly but you don’t really care, and he doesn’t seem to mind either judging by his smile.

“I forgive you, Steve.” The words are barely out of your mouth before Steve is leaning in the rest of the way and kissing you.

You kiss back without thinking twice about it and after a few seconds you pull back, big goofy smiles on both your faces.

You spent the rest of the afternoon like this, cuddling and talking and just enjoying each other’s company.

You didn’t do much, it wasn’t much different from the endless number of days you spent together, but you couldn’t help but feel like this was the best day of your life.

And even if you didn’t know it, Steve was thinking the exact same thing.

After all, what is better than spending the day cuddling with the girl he always needed? The girl he loves.

And that girl is you.

- Alternative Ending    - 

You’re taken out of your thoughts by a knock on your door. You frown and cautiously walk to it, picking up your gun from its hiding place under the coffee table.

It’s probably nothing but better safe than sorry, right?

You take a peek from the peephole and immediately roll your eyes, lowering your gun while opening the door.

“I guess you weren’t expecting company.” Bucky says, more amused than anything when he sees the gun in your hand.

You make no attempt to try and hide your annoyance as you roll your eyes again. “What are you doing here, Barnes?”

It’s not that you don’t like Bucky, you just don’t know him all that well if not only thanks to the stories Steve shared of him in the 40s.

“I thought I’d make sure you were okay. You ran out of there pretty fast.”

“Yeah, well, he’s gone. It’s a done deal, don’t see why I had to stick around.” You say crossing your arms defensively. 

Bucky doesn’t seem to mind your response as he simply leans on the doorway and keeps talking. “He was disappointed not to see you.”

You frown, beyond confused by a single and simple sentence. Bucky smiles and elaborates. “He lived a life. And he’s old now, but still alive.”

“Oh.” is all you can say. Steve old? You can’t even imagine it.

“He gave the shield to Sam.” Bucky continues, just making conversation.

“Really? I would’ve thought he’d give it to you if he had to choose.” Bucky frowns a little and tilts his head, seeming genuinely confused.

“Why would he give it to me?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, you were his best friend, you’re a supersoldier. I guess I just assumed.”

“None of that matters, Sam is a good man. He deserves it.” He argues, then quickly adds. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

You grin and nod, then say. “For what it’s worth you’re a good man too, Bucky. Steve thought the world of you, trust me. He never stopped thinking highly of you.”

That was nothing more than a simple reassurance for you, but for Bucky it was so much more than that.

He knew you were talking about his time as the Winter Soldier. You were telling him that, even knowing about all that, Steve never let that influence his opinion of his former best friend. He still knew who Bucky was, deep down.

Bucky never heard words like that coming from anyone that’s not Steve, and you said it so casually, like you really believe it and to you it’s no big deal to just say it.

But for him, it was everything.

You didn’t know it then, but that was the moment Bucky started falling for you.

“Why are you checking up on me, Bucky? Really?” You say after a moment, breaking the silence that fell between you.

“Steve made me promise to take care of you before he left.” He said simply.

Bucky didn’t know it then, but that was the moment your heart broke completely.

You managed to keep yourself from breaking right then and there, but Bucky could see that something was wrong.

He didn’t push it though, making conversation a little more before saying goodbye with the promise that he’d be back the next day.

And that’s what he did.

In fact, he came back everyday, no matter what, to check on you.

It started out as quick visits where he wouldn’t even enter the door, then you started inviting him in for coffee because you felt bad he came to Steve’s apartment everyday, always refusing to let you meet him somewhere else. 

After a while you started inviting him for meals, to watch a movie or just to hang out.

You almost didn’t know how, but at one point you started to really look forward to Bucky’s visits everyday, getting excited every time he knocked on the door.

It was the best part of your day, really.

You knew Bucky felt the same, it was like you both knew what was slowly happening between you and you had a silent understanding not to discuss it.

You also never discussed your feelings for Steve, but you felt like Bucky somehow knew nonetheless. 

But the more time you spent with Bucky the more those feelings seemed to fade.

You still loved Steve, still missed him, you could feel yourself letting go of him with every time you spent time with Bucky, every time he made you laugh, every time your hands would accidentally touch.

You could feel yourself falling in love with Bucky and, this time, it felt right. This time you didn’t even try to stop it. 

And it seemed like Bucky felt the same way.

Time after time he became more bold with his flirting, with physical touch, until eventually he was shamelessly hitting on you and cuddling you every time he could.

And, when you made no attempt whatsoever to stop him, it was the only signal he needed to keep going.

One day, after about a year of his daily visits, he couldn’t hold back anymore and kissed you, overjoyed when you kissed him back. He asked you out right after and you didn’t hesitate to say yes.

It was the best first date of your life, but to be fair you’d been hanging out and basically dating for almost a year, so it felt simple. Effortless and uncomplicated. 

It was everything both of you needed. Your feelings for Steve were almost gone now, which is why you couldn’t even begin to explain what happened yesterday.

You were out with Bucky, hand in hand as you walked around the park, just enjoying the sunshine, when you could swear you saw Steve, not old Steve but your Steve, just standing there, looking at you and Bucky.

It was for a second, you merely glanced in his direction and by the time you turned back he was gone. 

Bucky didn’t notice anything, if not only the way you tensed and stopped in your tracks.

You thought about telling him what you thought you saw, but even you knew how crazy you would’ve sounded. So you said nothing and shrugged it off.

Because it was nothing.

Right? 

[writingroom21]

Omg I love Boys Bathroom!! Idk if you're doing a pt 2 but if you need ideas, how about sumn based on Jacqueline and Hamilton's relationship from the 2000s tv series Young Americans? (if you haven't seen that show, it's fine. I barely remember it, myself, other than the fact that Ian somerhalder has never not been fine).

Where rafe and reader continue to sneak around, and it gets to the point that people start to suspect them, not because of her identity, but because they're a little too close to be just dormmates but no one says anything as they're scared of what rafe might do 👊 if they confront him for something 'he isn't ready to come out with yet' if you catch my drift, lol and just like the scene in She's The Man (I love that you used this movie for inspo, that movie was my childhood), when it comes time to do the kissing booth, and all of rafe's friends line up at the chance to kiss y/n, that he finally steps in and sets them straight about who she is and what she is to him <3 I'd add more but this shit is long enough as it is.

If you write this, pls tag me: @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist

A/N: I giggle so hard at the thought of Rafe's face finding out people think he's seeing her brother.

Cat's Out of The Bag

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, oral (m receiving), squirting (Rafe's can't get enough), unprotected sex(wrap it up), (let me know if I missed anything)

Wc:2.9K

Since that night in the bathroom it was a free for all on fucking. With your dorms right next to each other it was easy to sneak in and out. Rafe had gone back to his room that night thinking what the fuck did he just get into. There are two things he knows for certain. One being that you were one of the best lays not just because he’s been pussy deprived. Two he doesn’t know what he will do after this week is up.

The day after was a little awkward. You didn’t know if he regretted it, he may have suggested doing it again but that doesn’t mean he would. It wouldn’t be the first time a guy said something to you for them to take it all back. The only indication that he meant it was in biology. He was already there when you entered the classroom. He looked really good and the school polo fits him snuggly. 

He smirks at you as you sit down, pulling your chair a bit closer to him. It’s a little jawing seeing you dressed as a guy after last night. Even more jawing that he still feels attracted to you. Not because you look hot as a guy but because he knows it’s you under there. “Hey.” You whisper to him. “Hey.” His fingers brush against your thigh. 

The two of you are trying to keep cool when really you just want to skip class and sneak off. The class goes by, small smiles being shared. Even dared to touch the other while no one was looking. Brushing your hands together on the desk or knees bumping under the table. He just wanted to be closer to you, taking whatever he will get.

He walked you to your other classes in the disguise of just talking to a friend. A friend that stands too close so your hands can accidentally brush against each other with each step. A friend that later sneaks his way into your room when you think it’s late enough for people to be asleep. Pushing you in the room as soon as the door opened a crack.

He’s kissing you, kicking the door with his foot. “You know how bad I wanted to kiss you today? Almost lost my cool.” His words melt into your throat, his lips going to suck on the skin. “Can’t leave any marks.” You warn. “Been wanting you too.” Your hands pull at his shirt, yanking it over his head. Sinking to your knees, you spread kisses down from his chest to his stomach. Nipping at the skin right above his sweats. 

You look up at him, palming him through the fabric. “Can I show you how bad I wanted this?” The way your eyes are looking at him, he would agree to anything. Rafe groans when you give him a little squeeze. Reminding him that you are still there willing to please him. He made you feel amazing last night and you want to do the same. Nodding his head, his hand makes a ponytail with your hair. “Go for it baby.”

Without another word his pants and boxers are on the floor. Discarded to find later on when he’s scrambling to rush out early in the morning. But for now he’s only worried about the feeling of your mouth wrapped around him. The way that you hollow your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, focusing on his tip. His back hits the door helping him stay upright as his knees want to give out.

Your mouth feels like heaven. He could die at this exact moment and die a happy man. The hand holding your hair starts to help guide your movements. Giving you tugs when the pleasure is too much. Your hand that isn’t assisting your mouth slides its way into your sleep shorts. Massaging your clit and teasing your entrance with a finger. “Are you touching yourself?” His voice is shaky, getting dangerously close to cumming in your mouth. 

He takes a deep breath when you disconnect, a pop sounds in the room. “Mhmm. Felt too good.” You go in again to suck it back in your mouth. He hates that he has to stop you from continuing. Rafe would love for nothing more than to be in your mouth, watching as you gag over it. Or for you to sit on his face as he eats the shit out of you. The last thought is tucked away for later use.

“Get on the bed. Ass up and you chest to the sheets.” His words emphasized with a light tap to your face. You do as he says, stripping your clothes as you walk across the room. Rafe kicks off the pants from his ankles, shirt being tossed along with it. He likes seeing you like this. Willing to do anything just to scratch the itch you can’t sedate yourself. It’s the same way you looked last night.

You wiggle your ass when you feel the bed dip, his hands finding your ass. He wants to slap it, leave it with red hand marks. Make it so you can’t sit down in your classes tomorrow. Ironically enough you are thinking the same thing. Wanting him to mark you in every way that he can. Deep down hoping he wouldn’t care what people will hear and just take you the way he wants. The rational part knows he won’t and shouldn’t but is still disappointed. 

“Fuck just look at you.” His large hands are playing with your ass cheeks like their dough. Spreading them he sees your entrance fluttering, begging to be filled like a good girl. A glob of spit leaves his lips, falling right above your entrance to slide down. You moan as his thumb circles it around, making you nice and wet. The digit slips in and out, giving you just barely enough to feel full. 

“Gonna be a good girl and be quiet for me.” He kisses down your spine to get to your ear. “I think you can do it. Wouldn’t want everyone in the hall to know how big of a whore you are.” An involuntary moan slips out. His thumb was replaced with his middle and ring finger. “Knew you would like being called that. Can feel how much your pretty pussy likes it.” Rafe’s fingers are stretching you out nicely.

Fingers curling to stimulate your g-spot. The feeling from yesterday starts to creep up, making it seem like you are going to pee. “Rafe I.” You are trying to warn him but the words can’t come out. They don’t need to because he already knows. Can see it written on your face. Lips parted, eyes pinched shut, and your face digging into the sheets. That’s what he wants for you to lose control to the point you drench everything.

“It’s okay baby. Let it go.” With the confirmation you do. The gushing noise filling your ears, the sheets underneath you getting wet. In hindsight he knew he should have put something down, he just didn’t care. He kinda wanted you to be left with the reminder of what he can do to your body. Your hands are gripping the sheets for dear life. All of your energy being taken out of you.

“Never going to get tired of making you do that.” He gives your left ass cheek a kiss, biting into the flesh. A shriek tears it away from your throat. “Sorry, I can't mark your neck so gotta mark something.” “It’s okay.” Your voice is soft, the post haze of your orgasim still has you under a spell.

Rafe chuckles as you push yourself back on him. Getting the hint that you want him inside, he lines himself up. “Wait, should I use a condom?” He didn’t think about that yesterday but he sure is today. You groan, taking him in your hands and pushing back again. You both moan as he fills you. “Birth Control just pull out.” He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Fleshing pounding into flesh can be heard from the hall, if anyone walked by you would be caught. It probably wouldn’t even matter at this point. Rafe’s hands can’t stay still, having to touch every inch of your skin. You were a mess, having to bite down into your pillow to swallow every moan that leaves your lips. 

In this position he feels bigger than he did before. Hitting a place deep inside you, the pain only makes the experience better. He flipped you around, wanting to see your face again. You make a face when you feel the wet spot on the bed, disgusted to be laying in it. The displeasure fading once he was in you again.

The weight of him was intoxicating. Holding you in place as his hips ram into yours. He brings a hand down to play with you, trying to get you there before him. “Come on, you can do it. I know you want to cum again.” He places kisses on your neck, your fingers intertwining with his hair and pulling. Now that you fulfilled that desire you can say you want to do it again.

With a couple of more thrusts you cum, trembling as he holds you. Only pulling out when he was toeing on the line of cumming inside you. He jerks himself off, rubbing his head on your lips, rutting into your clit. He paints your pussy, making a mess of your bottom half. Out of breath you both lay there. “We should probably clean this bed.” Looking down he can see the huge wet spot you left behind, his cum adding to the mix as it drips down.

“I’ll put them in the wash. You can go sleep in my room.”

The following few days were the same. You would wake up, get dressed as a man and go to classes. Flirt with Rafe any chance you're alone or no one's watching. Pulling each other into empty classes or janitors closets to makeout. The weirdness of kissing someone who looks like a guy left Rafe pretty soon. Only focusing on the fact that the person beneath that was you.

On the last day you two skipped your classes, pretending to be too sick for them. It was wrapped in sheets. Sweating out any toxins from the vigorous exercise. That night he went with you to meet up with Max. Telling your brother everything he was kinda confused at first. He thought Rafe had a thing for you dressed as a man and decided fuck it when he found out you were a girl. But with the reluctant sharing of information he soon realized that was not the case. 

The new plan the three of you created was simple. You and Rafe would still see each other and Max will butter up your parents to be nicer to you. It was the least he could do for all this trouble, which he reminded you didn’t seem as bad considering the facts. It was going well too. The boys get the weekends free, able to go out of campus and hang out. You would go visit on the weekends and hang out with them. Then go back to Rafe’s dorm at the end of the night, staying the weekend.

Max was sick of hearing the two of you from the thin wall shared between the two boys. But he was more sick of the nagging questions everyone asked. He will be walking around campus and people would just stop him to talk. “Hey man. How’s Rafe?” He looked at the guy like he was dumb. “Um, good? We watched the game last night.” The other guy would just smirk and nod. “Right the game. Good for you two.” Max would be confused as the guy walks off. Thinking what the fuck is that guy even on.

It was worse when it was girls that would talk to him. He only had access to them on the weekends and they never seemed interested. “Where’s Rafe today?” A girl would ask. “Oh he’s out with my sister right now.” He would mentally check if he looked good, thinking this might be the time a girl gives in. “That’s so sweet how close they are together. I wish my boyfriend was close to my family.” Either Max doesn’t pay attention or he really is that stupid because he was confused why you would want that. 

Yeah your partner should be close with your family but Rafe is literally fucking his sister, not just having lunch. “Yeah it’s nice seeing them like that.” He would then sit there as the girl talked about her boyfriend, clothes, girl drama, you name it. Max would make the way to his dorm that night stopping at his door when he saw the two of you down the hall. “Hey Cameron.” The two of you greet him. “Anyone say anything weird to you?”

Rafe just shook his head. “Man, everyone here is weird. I don’t pay attention to what they say.” With that you two would be in his room, locked away from the rest of the world. Max just shrugs thinking nothing more of it. That was until the day of the carnival.

Rafe had been defensive when he heard that you would be working the ticket booth. Telling you that there’s no way his girlfriend will be kissing other guys. He only calmed down after you explained why you had to. “I told my mom I would do this weeks before we even met. If I don’t she’ll be upset.” Rafe still wants to argue but from what you’ve told him about your parents he doesn’t.

Let’s be clear. He HATES the idea, he just hates the idea of you being sad even more. So he gives up letting you do it. Which is where you are now. In that stupid booth as guy after guy lines up to kiss you. The first shift was some random girl he doesn’t know so it was fine. Then she went on a break and it was your turn. The first few guys were chasist kisses, if you could even call them that. Then this asshole came in and tried to makeout with you. That was his breaking point.

“Where are you going?” Max questions as Rafe leaves his side. “Going to go kiss your sister. Don’t like how that guy was kissing my girl.” Max groans. It’s been like that since he got back. The two of you and then him, your third wheel. He’s still trying to get used to it. Max trails behind Rafe, agreeing with him for a different reason. These guys seem a little too demanding for some carnival booth.

Rafe cuts the line in the front, some boys from their school protesting. “Why are you even here?” One of them shouts. Rafe turns around shooting them a death glare. “To buy bread. What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” The boys look at each other then at Max and Rafe. “Are you also going to kiss her?” One of them questions Max. “Ewww no. That’s my twin sister.” He starts to gag just thinking about it.

Their confused faces turn to ones of shock. “You’re letting him makeout with your sister?” They all shout at the same time. The line keeps getting shorter, Rafe’s almost at the front. The one guy in front of him and the one currently kissing you. “Why would I care? What they do is their business.” 

The line moves again, your eyes twinkle at Rafe over the guy's shoulder. He turns back to the group behind him. “Not trying to be rude. Obviously your relationship is your own issue. But you really let your boyfriend kiss your sister?” Rafe and Max share the same look, seeing if they heard the boys right. “What the fuck are you on?” Rafe is irritated now. All he wants to do is kiss you but there’s this shit.

Next

“Well no one wanted to say anything but we know you two are together.” This caught your attention. “What do you mean?” The group looks at you. “Well they’ve been seeing each other. There was a straight week were we thought that would fuck in front of everyone. They got better at hiding it.” You can’t help but laugh at this. The whole time you and Rafe thought you were careful and you weren’t.

“This isn’t funny.” Rafe and Max yell at you, only making you laugh harder. “I’m not gay.” Max states. “It’s okay, You don’t have to hide it.” One of them tries to be nice. “He means it and neither am I. I’m dating her.” Rafe points back at you. “The only sex I am having is with my girlfriend. Now I’m you excuse me I think it’s my turn.” 

Rafe walks up, handing you the ticket and kissing you. His hand engulfs your face as he deepens it. “Who kisses better, me or Max?” You joke when he pulls away. “Shut up and kiss me again.” He slams a roll of tickets on the table. 

Looks like you’ll be here a while.

✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷

Tags:@ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist

[cherrychilli]

18+

AFAB reader, soft dom Steve, cockwarming, clit play, multiple orgasms

A/N: He's a menace.

Banner by cafekitsune

"Steve, this isn't fair", you whine, a pitiful sound that only widens the smirk pulling at his lips.

"Why's that honey?", he asks all too pleased and irritatingly knowing, tone dripping thick with condescension.

"Y-you said I could have your cock"

"and?"

"That you'd make me cum", you add, tone shying into a whisper.

"But I didn't say that I'd fuck you, did I?", he tutted as if it were the most obvious thing ever, pinching your waist to pry another whine out of you.

Steve Harrington was a fucking menace when he wanted to be and today, he proved it beyond any doubt.

It was near impossible to predict when he'd fall into a mood like this - equal parts sticky sweet chafing against cruel. You thought yourself safe when you'd cuddled up next to him on the couch after work, too wrapped up in his scent and warmth to realize the spider's web you'd just nestled yourself into.

You were very nearly lulled to sleep like that, cheek resting on his chest, the pleasant rise and fall accompanied by the sound of his heartbeat making your eyelids feel heavy.

But his hands kept you awake when they began to meander with some subtle grazing at first, seeking out the soft skin that peeked from underneath your skirt before those touches began to linger.

A quick squeeze here, a gentle nudge there and your thighs came apart just for him, making room for his fingers to rub at your clothed clit. It's a slow, leisurely drag with which he runs his fingertips over the bump, the kind of deliberate teasing that made you tilt your hips forward and chase his fingers for more.

And he was just as good at edging you with his words too - promising you release after release as your cotton underwear turned damp under his touch, his lips pressed against your heated skin with whispers of how badly he wanted to unravel you.

Most times he got you there just as promised. Falling into a rhythm that made your spine tingle and curve with his cock plunging into the wet heat between your legs until he overwhelmed you with a string of orgasms.

But at times like this you feel you ought to have known better.

You should have surveyed that glint in his eye when he pulled your sticky panties aside because it flashed different than the rest. And you should have tried to read between the lines when he said he needed to feel you around his cock, his tone no longer matching the sugary promises he kissed into your neck.

Maybe then you might have realized what you were in for.

But it's too late now. Your clothes lay discarded in a heap on the floor while Steve's left half dressed, pants undone, shirt unbuttoned and his chest hair tickling you from how it grazes against your bare back, now sheened with a light sweat.

There's no way to unstick yourself from the web.

There's barely enough room inside your head to think as it is. He's got you so full - trapped in his lap with his cock worked inside of you up to the base.

"Stevie, you promised you'd be nice", you try to counter but it comes out too weak and tremulous for your liking, made so by the way he's stretched you to your limit.

The way he's basking in your predicament is obvious, grin wide and breath fanning over your shoulder with a dark chuckle. His left hand slips away from where he'd been swiping his thumb lazily over your nipple, making a path down over your ribs and belly to tap his fingers gently on your mound when he reaches it.

"I did. And I'm going to treat you so good, darling", he coos, all smug and sacharine.

You don't doubt it when he places the pads of his fingers on your clit again, rubbing the needy bundle so tenderly that you're almost willing to forgive him.

"Oh...", your lips part with a contented sigh when sparks begin to crackle beneath your skin.

It's always different when there isn't a layer of cloth or lace in the way - so much warmer and more sensitive to his touch this way. Your walls pulse from the stimulation, wrapping tighter around the throbbing length he's inched inside of you carefully.

"Fuck, she must have missed me. Your pussy's hugging me so fucking tight", he chuckles again, this time noticeably less smooth than the first when he lets a soft groan slip through at the end of it. "Gonna play with this pretty little clit and feel you clench around me"

The need to lift your hips and drive his cock against every spot inside you that cries out for his attention is nearing unbearable but you're barred from doing so by the hand he's clamped over on your hip. Thankfully the other helps make up for withholding that much needed motion from you as he toys with your sensitive bud, making you stir and squirm in his lap.

"You're getting close already aren't you? I can feel how much you're enjoying this", he laughs, fingers circling your clit faster.

"Look at that sweetheart, she's crying for it"

Having him draw attention to it out only made you burn that much more fiercely. You've soaked him in the messiest way, creamy slick dripping down to his balls just from having you stuffed and played with. - not even fucked, as he so snidely pointed out earlier.

"Shit - I'm gonna cum - please Steve, can I?", breath hitching as you sought his permission.

You knew he liked it when you begged like this, the thought of him pulling his fingers away to teach you a lesson making your eyes burn with the beginnings of tears.

"That's my good girl. Go on, show me how good I'm making this sweet pussy feel"

Muscle memory kicks in quicker than conscious thought when you wrap a hand around the wrist he's wedged between your quivering thighs, hips quaking when the tension pooling in your abdomen winds tight and snaps.

His name lifts off your tongue like a prayer, cried out over and over as your cunt squeezes his cock tight in a flurry of rippling spasms. Your thighs grow tacky with your pouring emissions, the man inside you groaning heavy and deeply from the way your hot, silky walls pull and pulse around him.

The afterglow is a hazy, dreamy fog of bliss - like waking up to sunlight spilling on cold, bare feet slipping out from under rumpled sheets on a Sunday morning. He's kind enough to give you some time to recuperate, lips busy, telling you how good you did for him but as the fog clears, tendrils of disappointment creep in silently when you realize he hasn't cum yet.

Tipping your chin down to eye the sticky wetness evident between your legs, you recognize the mess as all your own, that satisfying crescendo of having him fill you up and empty himself inside you still out of your reach.

"Are you going to fuck me now?", you ask once you've gathered your breath, hope welling inside your throat.

"Not tonight, angel", he answers almost sympathetically but you know there's no real sadness there when his fingers glide over your swollen clit once more.

"Gonna make you milk me like this - gotta see how long you can take it"

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙢 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader (part two)

read 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 (part one) here

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || these video calls have become the new normal for the two of you, but it might be time to take the next step.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 3.2k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; video call sex, dirty talk, use of sex toys, and a touch of breeding kink), sex work (again, kind of inherent to the whole thing), basically porn without plot but with feeeeelinggsssss 💕

(this week's challenge for @the-slumberparty was to write a follow up to something I wrote previously, figured there was an obvious solution to that prompt!)

“Did you get what I asked you to?” you asked with a coy smile.

“Yeah, it’s right here…”

He held up the fleshlight in front of the camera's view, strategically angled down to his chest and lap so he could keep his face hidden, and couldn't help but notice that mischievous sparkle in your eye.  “Have you tried it yet?”

“No, I figured I’d wait to see what you wanted me to do with it,” he replied, and you laughed.

“Well, there’s really only one thing you can do with it, sweetie,” you purred— why did that little pet name turn him on so much?  “I want you to fuck it.  I wanna watch you fuck it.”

"Okay," he breathed, "sounds… interesting."

"I'd like to see your face— you know, see you really react to how it feels— but I know you said you don't want to yet…"

It already gave him a little anxiety that you were seeing his body, if covered up by the t-shirt and boxers, but you at least acted like you were enjoying what you saw so far.  "Will you settle for seeing how hard I am instead?" he asked, and you licked your lips.

"Seems like a fair trade," you giggled.

He reached into his boxers, but saw that the view of the webcam cut him off— so he slowly tilted his laptop down, letting the camera pan to his hand around his leaking cock.

“Oh— fuck, that’s really you?” you choked.

“Yeah,” he answered, not sure if that was the right or wrong answer but knowing it was at least the true one.

“Hold up… three fingers, right now,” you ordered suddenly, “with your other hand.”

Confused but not willing to question it, he put his free hand in frame and did as you’d asked.

“Just— you know, just checking,” you explained, “people can, like, hack Zoom and put up a video or something, wanted to make sure it’s really you…”

“Is it that hard to believe?” he wondered.

“It’s just that, you know… you’re big,” you mumbled.  “I mean, no offense to my viewers or anything, but—definitely the biggest I’ve seen in a video call, I’ll say that.”

That made his cock flex in his hand.  “So, you like it then?”

“Like it?  Wish you could’ve seen how wet I got when that popped up,” you laughed.  “God, I would suck you—I mean I would really suck your cock, lick it all over, taste those balls—”

He squeezed his cock in his hand, snarling a little.  “That’s so hot,” he groaned.

“And I can just tell you’d go so deep inside me,” you added, making his chest tighten up.  “Do you know how many inches it is?  I wanna try to find the closest toy I have to your size, then I can really imagine how you’d feel in my pussy.”

He was almost high just on the knowledge that you wanted to imagine that.  “Uh—eight, maybe eight and a half…”

"Fuck," you breathed.  "Yeah, I— I think I have a vibrator that size, but I'm not sure it'll be… thick enough…"

"Well, mine doesn't vibrate," he warned you with a laugh.

"Yeah, and mine isn't dishwasher safe," you returned.

"Oh god— people clean these in the dishwasher?" Dieter realized with a shudder.  

"Yeah— I'm guessing you've never used one before?" you pressed, and he shook his head— before he remembered you couldn't see it.

"No," he answered aloud.  "I, uh, usually just prefer the real thing."

"Right— me too, but you know, we make do," you laughed.  "So?  Wanna give it a spin?"

"I, uh, I guess so…"

Grabbing the toy from the little bedside table, he looked at it for a moment— it was shaped like a vulva around the opening, but it wasn't that realistic.  First of all, it was only one color; second of all, the design was so simplified that it was missing the things he loved most about a pussy in terms of looks.  Not the Dieter had ever thought the visual element was its strongest…

But yours was gorgeous— beyond perfect.  Looked edible, delicious even, with a clit he wanted to suck on for hours and a cute little hole he couldn't imagine being lucky enough to fill with his cock.  And this toy was just that— a toy, a piece of silicone, and he really only had any interest in it because this whole thing was your idea.

Sighing, he slipped the toy down on himself; he wasn't sure what he was expecting, really, but it was a unique feeling.  Not as hot or wet as a real body, of course, but there was a nice pressure to it.

“How’s it feel?” you asked warmly.

“Good,” he breathed— not a very creative answer, but the best one he could come up with now.  “Way better than my hand, but nothing like, you know—”

“Nothing like me?" you assumed.

He sighed as he started to stroke himself with the toy— long, slow movements to get used to it.  "Yeah," he agreed, "nothing like— fuck— like you…"

"Are you imagining it's me instead?" you pressed, leaning in closer and watching intently.  "Imagining me riding you nice and slow like that?  Letting you hold my hips and move me just how you like?"

"I'm certainly trying to," he mumbled.

"Look how wet I am," you encouraged, and he leaned his head to the side a bit so he could see the screen better: you had your legs spread wide for him, and your fingers were rubbing your glistening cunt.  "I'd drench your cock, baby, probably make a fucking mess on you—"

"Fuck," he moaned, "use the toy on yourself.  Fuck yourself with it while I'm doing this."

You spread your legs and pushed the vibe inside— but you didn't turn it on— with a sigh; you were already finding a place you liked by pushing it in and out with your hand, but he stopped you before you got too into it.

"No," he corrected, "ride it."

You smirked.  "Maybe my legs are sore."

"Maybe I don't give a fuck."

You bit your lip and sat up, holding the toy between your legs and rocking your hips as you started to ride.

He whimpered when he saw the way you were enjoying the toy— you picked it because it was close to his size, so it was impossible not to picture being under you and watching you sink yourself down on him just like that. 

"Feels so good," you panted, "been wet all day waiting for our call… and I can't stop staring at your cock…"

"You really like our calls that much?" he wondered, knowing your answer couldn't be totally honest but not really caring anymore— he craved the fantasy, that was why he couldn't stop booking these.

"Yeah," you hummed.  "Don't tell anyone, but you're my favorite."

"Don't… don't flatter me," he pleaded, trying to remind himself that you were just saying nice things because you were paid to.

"It's true," you assured.  "Your voice turns me on like crazy— not to mention the shit you actually say with it…"

Figuring he should treat you to a little bit of that dirty talk you apparently enjoyed, he swallowed and conjured some courage to boss you around a bit.  "Turn around— wanna see your ass," he demanded, moaning louder when you did as you were told.  "Look so fuckin' good riding that…"

You arched your back further just to give him a better view; he hissed, pumping the toy faster.

"God, you drive me crazy showing off your ass like that," he admitted with a groan.  "Needs a good spank but I'm afraid to crack my computer screen."

You laughed a little, but reached back and pulled your ass apart so he could get a better view of that pink hole swallowing up the toy.  

"Jeeeeeesus fucking Christ," he grunted, moving his own toy faster.  "You've got the most beautiful cunt, baby, I swear…"

"And you've got such a nice cock," you replied with a groan.  "Can't stop thinking about it— I just know you'd stretch me out, baby, the way I like—"

"Fuck, I would," he promised.  "I know how you need it, I just know— I swear I wouldn't stop until you came all over me, until you fucking soaked me—*

"Baby," you panted.

"And then I still wouldn't stop until you did it again—"

"Fuck!" you whined, and he saw your pussy tighten on the vibrator.  "That sounds so fucking good— sounds like exactly what I need.  Just to be fucked until I can't think anymore…"

"God— you don't need to think," he promised.  "Just need to keep your legs open, I'll do the rest."

You moaned louder, and bounced faster on the fake cock.  "Yeah, I will— I'll just let you do all the work, okay?  Lay back and let you do what you want?"

*Fuck, yeah," he mumbled.  "Let me give that pussy what if needs… I know what you need, I can tell.  You need it deep, right?"

"Yeah…"

"And hard?  Fast?"

"Yes—"

"Shit, baby— turn around again, miss that pretty face— and I know you wanna look at it more, don't you?  You really like looking at my cock?"

You laughed slightly as you quickly turned back to face the camera.  "I mean— I wanna do a lot more than look at it, but this is all I can do right now."

"What else do you wanna do with it, then?"

"Choke on it," you answered instantly.  "Beg for it."

"Fuck," he whispered.

"Rub my pussy on it, show you how bad I need you…"

"Mm," he moaned in agreement.  

"Then I could just… slide it inside, try to fit you in my little hole, feel you going so deep…"

A little whimper slipped from his lips accidentally, and his eyes shut for a moment as he tried to picture it— you in his lap right now, looking back over your shoulder as you guided his cock into you.  It was a great image, but the toy wasn't enough— it wasn't warm enough to be you.

It was much better when he opened his eyes and saw how desperately you looked; you were literally dripping on the toy and he thought he might lose his mind.

"You like watching me use this that much?" he noticed.  "You're so dirty, baby— so turned on watching my dick fill this fake pussy.  I know you wish you were here instead— we both do."

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “I want you to fuck the toy just like you’d fuck me, please…”

He started to buck his hips up into it; he loved seeing the way your face changed when you watched him using the fleshlight more… aggressively.  "How's that look?" he prompted you with a smirk.  "You wanna be fucked like this?"

"God yes— I wanna be your toy, Hector," you informed him with a purr.  "I'm jealous of it, actually— I'm watching you fuck that fake pussy and I'm jealous…"

"I always get jealous," he replied.  "All those toys that get to feel you every night in your streams?  I'm always thinking that should be me— I wanna make you come even harder than they do."

“I know you’d feel so much better,” you whimpered, “I know you’d fuck me better—you know how fucking tired I am of riding these toys?  How badly I just want you to hold me down and fuck me as hard and deep as you want?”

“Fuck, I want that too,” he groaned.

“Yeah?  Wanna use me?”

“Mhm,” he nodded.

"Wanna make me your toy?" you prompted.

Wanna make you my girl, he barely stopped himself from blurting out.  "Y-yeah," he choked out instead.

Stroking himself faster with the toy, he grunted softly and adjusted his hips on the bed.  "When you come, take the toy off," you instructed, "so I can see it.  Pretty please?"

"Of course," he agreed.  "It'll be hard to stop, but— I can do it, for you."

"How romantic," you cooed, and it wasn't totally clear how much you were joking.  "I wanna see you coming so I can imagine how it would all feel inside me…"

"That's what I'm gonna imagine, too," he promised with a sigh, "all that come going deep inside you… and keeping you full all night so none of it goes to waste…"

"Fuck," you groaned, "are you that possessive, need to stay inside me all night?  Won't let any of your come leak out?"

"Yeah— I'm… very possessive."

"Well, I like… being possessed…"

"Do you like being bred?"

You grinned, and he felt almost guilty for saying it— but the feeling was oddly erotic somehow.  "Yeah," you breathed.  "I like that… I like getting filled with come, hearing you promise that you're— fuck— gonna knock me up…"

He groaned as he tightened his gut to try to stave off the inevitable orgasm approaching.  "I wasn't even into that until I started watching you," he admitted with a sigh, "used to be my worst fear, honestly… but now it's all I can think about… fucking you raw, knowing you're not on anything, knowing you could get—"

"Just— just pretend," you interrupted suddenly.  "It's okay if it's just pretend, right?"

He was pleasantly surprised by the vulnerability of that.  You could've just played into it, since it was all over video call anyways and didn't make much difference.  It's not like he was going to get you pregnant from another continent.  But he appreciated that you spoke up for yourself, even if he wasn't totally sure why.  "Yeah, of course," he promised, voice a little softer.  "That's the thing— even just pretending drives me crazy, turns me on like nothing else.  You made me like this— don't even know how, but you made me want that."

"Fuck, that's— I'm close," you admitted, "really fucking close to coming for you… what else do I make you want?"

"You make me wanna buy you stuff," he added, laughing breathlessly.  "Spoil you, you know.  So much more than flowers."

"God, you know just what to say, don't you?" you sighed.  "What else— just tell me what you want, tell me everything."

“I want you to be mine,” he answered, too lost in pleasure to be self-conscious about the honesty.  “I want you to be only mine—want you here with me, want you in my bed all the fucking time, wanna make you come and make you say that you fucking belong to me.”

“Oh, fuck,” you whined, “that’s— fuck, I— I’m yours.  I belong to you.”

“God,” he gasped, nearly a sob it was so intense— he never thought you’d really say that.  “Don’t want you to let anybody else fuck you, or touch you.  Just mine, baby, you need to just be mine—”

“I am, I am,” you promised.  “I swear I’m fucking yours.  Don’t want anybody else—just want you, it’s all yours, whatever you want—m’gonna be your girl.  Your whore.”

“Fuck!” he moaned loudly, moving the toy so fast it was just a greyish blur over his cock.  “When you come, you tell me whose you are— I’m gonna fucking come, just say it.”

“Yours, yours,” you promised, over and over, “you’re making me come, it’s you— yours, m'yours—”

He groaned loudly as he pulled the toy off of himself just in time for come to paint his stomach and thighs.  He rode out his high untouched as he listened to your own cries, and kept his eyes trained on your face as you sobbed through the pleasure.  “Fuck,” he sighed, “don’t stop, just keeping riding it—good girl.”

“Mhm,” you whimpered, shaking as you kept going, nodding and biting your lip.  “Yeah, whatever you want…”

“Don’t stop until I tell you,” he ordered.  “You keep riding that fucking dick, I don’t care if you can’t come anymore, keep fucking going—”

“Yes,” you promised, “I’m still going… I won’t stop, not until you say.”

Catching his own breath, he waited until your legs looked ready to give out before telling you that you could stop.  The toy was drenched, your body was glistening with sweat—and he was panting so hard he felt dizzy.

“Holy shit,” you whispered.  “I mean—fuck.”

“So you liked that, too?” he noticed, and you smiled hazily.

“Yeah—that was… damn.  You wear me out, man.”

He laughed, though he barely had the air for it.  “I wear you out?  You see the contents of my balls all over the fucking place here?”

You laughed, then, and he still thought it was the best sound in the world, even better than hearing you come.  “Yeah, fair,” you relented.  “It was really hot, though—watching you come.  Is it bad if I wanna make you do it again?”

“Shit, tonight?  I don’t think I can—”

“No, no, not tonight, that might kill both of us,” you laughed.  “I meant next time…”

That made him deflate a bit.  Maybe this was all an upsell—it was just about getting him to pay for the next session, keeping him hooked so you could get the money and gifts.

“I was thinking, uh… maybe next time—oh god, this is a bad idea, but—maybe next time could be in person?"

And then his heart jumped.  “We could, uh… that’s an option?  We could meet up?” he rushed out, hoping not to sound too eager but failing completely.

“Yeah,” you decided, looking more self-conscious than he’d ever seen you.  “I don’t know, I just— it feels different with you.  That might be stupid but, it’s true.  And the truth is, I know everybody probably assumes a lot because of the camming and stuff, but I haven’t had sex in… years.  Just the toys.  And I fucking miss it.”

“Yeah, me too,” he breathed.  “I mean, uh, it hasn’t been that long for me… but I miss it— and I… I think I need you.  Like, really need you.”

You smiled, and it was different than any of the ways he'd seen you smile before.  "Yeah, I— I feel that, too.  But, if we're gonna meet in person… I need to see your face."

Sighing shakily, he thought about it clearly for the first time.  He was scared of meeting you in person, as badly as he wanted it.  He was scared whatever magic you felt over video call wouldn't translate to real life; he was scared to disappoint you.

But he was more scared of losing you because he never had the guts to try.  So, with a deep breath, he tilted the laptop back, and let the camera show his face.

His hair was even messier than he expected, so he tossed it with his fingers a bit, but otherwise just let you get a good look at him.

He'd spent most of his life being looked at— he'd spent most of his life trying to be looked at, fighting to be the center of attention.  He wore shades and ball caps to avoid the paps like anyone else— because he thought he was supposed to— but deep down, he was addicted to being seen, in spite of his introversion.

He'd never felt as seen as he did when you were looking at him through that stupid webcam.  He almost blushed, though he wasn't sure why.

"Hi," you greeted softly, sounding almost completely different than before.

"Hi," he said back.

[kabie-whump]

♡ Febuwhump Day 17: Hostage Situation ♡

@febuwhump

Content: Kidnapping, blood, bondage, neglectful team, ransom, whumper turned caretaker

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"You might as well just let me go. They're not coming."

Whumper continues shuffling cards, not looking at Whumpee. "You keep saying that. How can you be so sure?"

"Your asking price is too high."

"Please. Don't try to tell me that your little team is broke. I know that's not true."

"They're not broke. But they won't pay all that just for me. They won't even pay half of that. You're wasting your time. And your chains." Whumpee looks down at their own body, at the way they're bound by miles of chains to the point where they can't move an inch. "Seriously, is all this really necessary?"

"I don't know what you're capable of, and I would rather not find out."

"Hm. Fair enough. Would you believe me if I promised that I'm harmless?"

"No."

"Worth a shot."

They go quiet for a while, the only sounds being Whumper's cards shuffling against the table and the steady drip of blood hitting the floor from Whumpee's injuries. An hour passes before Whumper speaks again.

"You really think they won't pay up?"

"Not for me. Maybe if you'd taken Leader..."

Whumper scoffs. "If I was powerful enough to capture Leader I wouldn't need to be taking hostages for cash in the first place."

"Yeah."

Whumpee's voice is getting softer and more slurred by the second. Whumper had noticed the change happening, but that last word was just pitiful. Whumper stands, going over to check on their hostage. They'd gone pale and the puddle of blood under their chair had grown significantly.

"You're not doing too hot, are you?" Whumper asks, squatting in front of Whumpee.

Whumpee shakes their head.

"At this rate you'll bleed out before anyone comes to save you."

"They're not coming," Whumpee says again, their voice still weak.

Whumper realizes with a start that Whumpee is tearing up. Not in the way that they did when Whumper had roughed them up for the camera. That had just been a pain response. This is genuine emotional distress.

"You're upset."

"Of course 'm upset, asshole," Whumpee slurs, the tears falling. "The fuck do you think I am?"

"Good to see you've still got your fire. But there's no reason to be upset. You're going to be fine."

"Fuck off."

"I mean it. Let's go over your options, hm? One: Your team comes for you and pays your ransom and you get to go home. Two: Your team comes for you, kills me, and you get to go home. Three: Your team doesn't come for you, and you get to stay here with me. You're going to survive no matter what."

"You told them you'd kill me if they don't come before tommorow."

"Yes, well, I was hoping to inspire a sense of urgency. Doesn't seem to have worked. I could kill you, I guess, but I'm starting to get the impression that you may be more useful then that. If your friends abandon you here, that may put you in a position where you're willing to give me some information about them. Saves me having to torture someone for it. Besides, one of my employees just kicked it so I'm in the market for new blood."

"You want me to... work for you?"

"Again, I could kill you instead if you're not going to be useful to me. I'm still deciding."

"I'd be a waste of resources. I'm not good for anything." Whumpee starts to shiver, the chains making soft clinking sounds.

"You believe that? Is that why you think they're not coming for you?"

Whumpee nods.

Something inside Whumper cracks just a little as they stare at Whumpee - pale and trembling with silent tears leaving tracks in the blood and dirt on their face.

"Alright. Let's get you stitched up. You're not bleeding out on my watch. I really don't have the energy to dispose of a body tonight."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Next >

[velvateen]

Hi you, I'm writing to you from Belgium! Thank you so much for your work, omg I love your writing so much!!! (you managed to make me get SICK butterflies in my stomach on your fiction "i am your singer" -smut LMAO-)

I'd like to suggest a story idea for zoro, I dreamt about him yesterday and in my dream he always found an excuse to get into the rooms I was in (very often the bathroom… While I was showering of course…) (example: it's dinner time // we're looking for you everywhere, I wanted to make sure you were okay…) Would you be willing to smut this dream into reality? 💚

(of course, it's a proposal, you're free to choose! Thank you so much for reading! 🥰)

don’t bother knocking - zoro x reader nsfw

hiiiii tysm for the request this is lowkey one of my fav pieces for this blog yet lol. enjoy!!

warnings: oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, fem bodied reader, no pronouns used

1.6k words

You ran your hands through your hair, making sure all of the soap had been wrung out. Ears blocked by water, you nearly missed the squeak of the door hinge as it opened. Sticking your head out of the shower, you saw Zoro, leaning against the counter.

“Can I help you?” You drew back into the water.

“No,” he hummed, “Just wanted to let you know that dinner’s ready.”

“Alright, yeah, I’ll be out in a minute! Don’t let them all wait up for me, alright?”

He grunted in response, and it took a few more seconds for you to hear the door open and close again.

Weird. Whatever. You stepped out of the shower, spotting wet footprints across the bathmat as you dried yourself off.

Zoro’s been acting this way lately. Always seeming to be where you want to go. Always showing up where you are. You try not to read too much into stuff with Zoro, maybe it’s just his way of trying to be closer friends with you. He’s got so many lofty aspirations that it’s hard for you to justify what your heart wants and what the crew already sees unfolding: Zoro’s got a thing for you. He just doesn’t know how to show it.

You towel off your hair and make your way to the kitchen, where you take your seat next to Zoro. Luffy is lunging for everyone’s plates although they’re all almost done eating, Zoro included. You sigh as you start to eat, relishing in the taste of Sanji’s perfect meal, and you rest your head on your hand as you start to pick at the plate. Distracted by the dinner, you don’t notice how close your arm on the table has gotten to Zoro’s. The heat of the shower is radiating off of your skin and onto his, and the hair on his arms raises. He fights the blush that settles on his ears, making no effort to pull away from your touch.

He stays there long after he’s finished eating.

The knock on your door is most unexpected, at this hour. You get out of your bed, setting down the book you’d been reading, and peek through the sliver of the door. When you see who it is, you open it wider.

“Oh hey, what’s up?” Zoro avoids your gaze a bit. Not completely, just enough to notice. He shrugs.

“Was bored. Mind if I hang out with you?”

You lick your lips. Zoro notices.

“Yeah, come on in, I was just reading,” you back away from the door and fall back into place on your bed. Picking up your book, Zoro sits on the side of your bed.

“What’s this about?” You take the book from him and set it down on your nightstand.

“I don’t really know yet, just started it tonight. But the cover is pretty so that means its gotta be good,” you laugh.

“Pretty sure there’s a phrase advising directly against that way of thinking but whatever,” Zoro mutters. You lean against the headboard as you laugh.

“Right, yeah, ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’, well I happen to find that is the best method to finding anything good.”

“Is that right?” Zoro inches unperceptively closer to you, the arm bracing himself now over your legs.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Zoro licks his lips. You notice.

“What have you been doing hanging out with me so much? What’s the angle?”

“No angle.”

“No angle?”

“Maybe there’s an angle,” he smiles. His eyes dart down to your lips for a fraction of a second, but long enough to ignite a heat that’s started to burn in your stomach. Maybe, you realize, it’s been burning for a while now.

Zoro’s grown closer to you now, something you both realize. But the realization doesn’t make you pull away, not now that he’s got a hand cupping your jaw and tilting your face as if he’s practiced it a thousand times, just for this. Just for you.

You eyes close slowly as you feel the touch of warm, chapped, rough lips ghost your own. It’s as if he’s afraid to push too hard, to break a spell or scare you off, he touches you so dearly. The kiss deepens slightly, but never in a rough way, no, Zoro’s staked so much on this moment to ever make any motion that might scare you off.

You pull away, a giddy laugh making it’s way past your lips. Zoro searches your eyes for any trace of doubt or unrequited emotion, but he doesn’t find it. And he can’t help but catch that infectious laugh, that smile that cracks across your face with such abandon that it takes all of his efforts to not let it consume the entirety of his soul. It does anyway. You lean back up and let Zoro follow you down to where you sat against the headboard, and he moved to straddle you, running a hand through your hair and gently holding by the roots, committing all of these feelings to memory. He’s waited long enough to feel you, and now that he’s got you in his hands, he wants nothing more than to break down every wall you’ve built around yourself, to touch your skin, to sink into you.

He sinks his teeth, experimentally, into you. Not to damage, but to be able to look back tomorrow at breakfast and know that it wasn’t all a dream. Your fingers make his earrings clink as you run a thumb over them, tugging his ear close to your mouth.

“You wanna?” You whisper, the soft smile you’re wearing evident in your cadence.

“If you’ll let me,” he answers, trying not to give himself away. He does anyways. His hands, antsy to roam, have made their way down to your pajama pants and make a move to tug, but you pull away.

“Me first.”

You move to the floor, and Zoro’s hand flies to your nape, not wanting to lose touch with you for a second. His pants have pooled near you on the floor, and with it come his boxers. You lick your lips. And boy, does he notice.

The grip he has on your hair tightens, but is never harsh. Never with you. Even as your lips and tongue start to envelop and swirl around the tip of his dick. Never harsh. Even when his other hand clenches tightly into the mattress. Even as you take him further, noting every vein present and pulsing under your administrations. Even as he fights the urge to tell you every thought he’s ever had about you. Never harsh. Even when his hand leaves your hair to wipe tears brimming at your eyes, he does it with such tenderness that you start to question if the tears are from the gag at all.

Zoro pulls away from you, clearly a motion of great strain, and he pulls you back up to the bed, where you finally kick off those damn pajama pants. Laying down, Zoro’s eyes ask an unspoken affirmation from you, as his fingers hook around the edges of your underwear. You nod, and the haste of which he pulls them down makes you laugh. His lips are back on yours, tasting your laughter, until he pulls away to cup a hand on your cheek, slipping his thumb into your mouth, greeted by an unexpecting hum. He draws it out of your mouth with a pop, and brings it down to your center, dragging it across your folds, holding you open. You take in a sharp inhale as he rubs his thumb across your clit in circular, steady motions. He smiles, watching as you start to clench around nothing, and all for him. His lips are back on your neck, kissing further down until they ghost over your chest, pause, and continue kissing over the cloth of your shirt. Your back arches towards his warm breath, the fire in your stomach reaching a blaze. Your hands are all over his back as he continues to work you open, steadily puting more pressure on your nerves. You groan at the feeling, impatience starting to wear you down.

Zoro hears the quickening of your breath, and decides to sink a finger into you, working it around to get you adjusted. You huff in exasperation as he pulls away, only long enough to get himself settled towards you. His hand is above your head as he angles himself, dragging his dick along your folds. You groan in unison as you feel each other’s warmth, the culmination of all this waiting paying off after all these years. He sinks in, slightly, not so much to satiate you by any means, no, but it’s enough to get you adjusted.

Zoro takes a deep breath, and lets it go as he slides fully, sheathed impossibly tight within you.

You take a deep breath, and you let it go as you’re filled, depths reached.

“Good?”

“Good.”

With your affirmation, he moves, slowly at first, and then picking up the pace. But never harsh, never abrasive.

Not tonight.

There will be other nights, nights with less on the line, where Zoro will allow himself to tear into you, to deny and restrain you, but not tonight.

Tonight, Zoro focuses on loving you, which comes easily, given that it seems as he was born to do just that.

_____

The warmth of the hot water soothes your legs as you bend down to turn the shower off. The cool air of the night hits you as you step out of the shower, not surprised to see Zoro leaning against the counter. He watches as you wrap the towel around yourself.

“Can I help you?” You muse, tucking the towel in and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He smiles at you, resting his hands on your waist.

“Nope,” he presses a kiss onto your lips, “no angle here.”

a/n: hey everypony mwahahaha almost got carried away w this one it’s like one billion words. anyways school is still kicking my ass. sorry responding to this took so long!! hope everyone has a good day and eats good food! okay bye kitties meow

[burnthoneydrops]

Loverboys on Our Hands (s.p x covey!reader)

pairing: sejanus plinth x covey!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: none, unless you count coriolanus as a warning lol

a/n: i have been obsessed with covey!reader and sejanus for a hot second now so i thought i'd finally write about it! heavily influenced by @alwritey-aphrodite to write said duo (so if you haven't read their work you absolutely should!). anyway, hope you enjoy!

The sound of coal miner boots stomping in rhythm against the creaky floors of the Hob would always be your favourite sound. Performances hadn’t been as frequent with Lucy Gray fighting in the arena and everything, but now the Covey were back in full swing and you couldn’t be happier. All it took was one look at Maude Ivory, her smile shining brighter than the sun in the meadow, for your stage fright to turn into excitement, and your fingers were ready to join Clerk Carmine in your shared moments of fiddle harmony. Barb started the backstage line up, urging the rest of you to follow suit before your performance was to officially begin. There were people clapping in anticipation behind the curtain, surrounded by the sound of glasses clinking together at the bar and men laughing at each other. You gave a nod to Maude Ivory before she headed out to announce the evening, and hearing her receive a round of applause only widened the smile on your face. 

“I hope everyone’s ready ‘cause we’ve got a great show lined up for you tonight!” She paused for people to clap before announcing you all one by one, the audience’s excitement growing with each name that got called. Once everyone was on, Maude Ivory tapped her drum a few times to count everyone in before Clerk Carmine began playing the introductory melody. He made his way over to you, nudging you with his body weight before you leaned back to back as your harmony part began and you laughed, pushing back off each other as Lucy Gray started strumming, stepping closer to the microphone. Tam Amber took a break from his mandolin to get the audience clapping in rhythm, getting a few shouts and hollers out of them as well. 

This was your happy place, the thing you wouldn’t trade for anything, and the audience’s energy only made it better. You travelled across the stage to Barb Azure as Lucy Gray did a twirl with her guitar. Barb Azure gave you a look and nodded her head towards Lucy Gray as you could tell she was focused on something in the back of the Hob. A familiar blonde head had made his way through the crowd to see tonight’s performance, and his Peacekeeper buddies had come with him. You shook your head, letting out a small chuckle as you separated from Barb Azure, but you couldn’t help yourself from also looking in that same direction, hoping another buzzed head would be in attendance. 

Sure enough, Sejanus was sitting on one of the barrales next to the table Coriolanus had secured, and you twirled yourself around to hide the large smile you were starting to sport. Lucy Gray looked over at you and gave you a knowing nod, but you just shook your head, hoping she wasn’t getting any ideas. The girl may have wandered the Earth with the best intentions, but you didn’t need her meddling in your lacking love life. You allowed yourself one look over, just enough time to catch him smiling and lightly bobbing his head along to the music, before turning back away in fear that you would get too distracted. The last thing you needed was Clerk Carmine making fun of you for playing a wrong note again. 

After the performance was over, and Maude Ivory was going around collecting whatever tips people were willing to give, Lucy Gray grabbed your hand and marched you straight over to the Peacekeeper boys. Trying not to object too loudly, in fear that a certain someone would hear and get the wrong idea, you were quick to shut up once you reached the table, choosing to brush some dust off the front of your top instead. 

“You remember Coriolanus don’t you?” She asked you, never dropping your hand. 

“Hard to forget when you won’t stop talking about him,” you teased Lucy Gray, looking quickly over at the blonde boy and noticing a content smirk on his face. 

Rolling her eyes, Lucy Gray added, “and his friend,” as she gestured to Sejanus with your connected hands. 

Your cheeks were hot, and you would’ve found more interest in your laced up boots had you not noticed Sejanus was already looking at you. “It was awfully nice of you both to come tonight”. 

“Oh it’s not a problem, really. You guys are so good, it would be a shame to miss such a performance,” Sejanus smiled, and you missed Coriolanus sticking his foot out and kicking his friend in the shin. 

“Well, I think some celebratory drinks are in order,” Lucy Gray started, “Coriolanus, won’t you come help me carry some?” He nodded, quickly hopping off his stool and following after her. 

“But you don’t-” you tried to object, but they were already weaving their way through the crowd, leaving you and Sejanus awkwardly taking in each other’s presence. “That was odd”. 

“They sure are in love aren’t they?” Sejanus asked, leaning in closer to you to avoid yelling over the crowds who now had to entertain themselves. 

“Yeah, but..” you trailed off, your eyes focused on where the couple had just run off to. 

“But what?” Sejanus urged you to continue. 

“I don’t know. Her last relationship was real rough for her- you remember when Billy Taupe came in here the other night- and I just don’t want to see her hurt again. Especially not after what she just went through”. You paused. “But she’s a tough girl”. You looked back to make eye contact with Sejanus, realising he hadn’t looked away from you the entire time. 

“I wasn’t being sarcastic or anything earlier, by the way. With what I said about us coming to see you tonight. You guys are really good, and it was nice to see you happy”. 

“Well thank you,” you smiled, trying your hardest not to look at the floor. “That’s awfully sweet of you to say,” you finished as your nerves got the better of you and you looked down, kicking some piece of paper around. 

In what seemed to be a rush of confidence, Sejanus tipped your chin up with his finger, forcing you to look at him once again. “There’s that pretty smile”. His smile grew wider, as did the heat on your cheeks, before he dropped his hand. Lucy Gray and Coriolanus were quick to return to the table at that moment, and you knew she must have seen that little interaction go down just by the way she was smiling at you. 

“You know, I was just telling Coriolanus that we were all thinking of heading up to the lake tomorrow if y’all wanted to come,” she looked between Sejanus and Coriolanus, who were both nodding their heads in piqued interest. 

“Yeah, that sounds great. We have the day off too so it would work out perfectly,” Sejanus added a verbal confirmation to the conversation.

“Oh! That would be so much fun!” If performing was your ultimate happy place, the lake was definitely a close second. “Does anyone have a pen or something?” You shouted a little louder into the remaining crowd. Someone was quick to toss one over to you and you looked at Sejanus with an excited expression on your face. “Give me your arm”.

With no hesitation, albeit a confused look on his face, Sejanus rolled up his sleeve, leaning his arm out to you in the process. You quickly scribbled down ‘The Seam’ with some broken directions on how to get there and a time before capping the pen and throwing it back into the crowd. 

“Now, you two meet us there at that exact time and we’ll all head over together alright?” Lucy Gray looked between the two boys, “And don’t you dare be late, or we’ll be just fine leaving without you,” she teased with a mischievous smile on her face as she grabbed your hand again. 

“I guess we’re heading back, but we’ll see you both tomorrow yeah?” You looked first at your combined hands and then at the boys. 

“Yeah, it sounds like a great time,” Sejanus nodded at the two of you before Lucy Gray was pulling you back to join the rest of the Covey. You turned awkwardly over your open shoulder, waving goodbye to them with your free hand. 

“Anything would sound like a great time to you if you got to see them again,” you caught Coriolanus muttering to his friend as the two of them stood up to leave. 

Lucy Gray laughed at the intense blush creeping its way onto your face, nudging your body with her shoulder before you met up with the rest of the Covey backstage. “Looks like we’ve got a couple of loverboys on our hands”.

[lemoncrushh]

Victoria's Secret

Summary: Harry meets Victoria, a beautiful plus-size woman, at a party and is quite smitten with her.

Warnings: smut, body image issues - 18+ ONLY!

Word Count: 3216

A/N: One of my early one shots from 2016. Written from Harry's POV.

I saw her from across the room. I wondered if we'd met before, and I racked my brain trying to recall where we might have, or perhaps some kind of clue as to what her name was, but I came up blank. She had a familiar face, though. One of those kind faces that's easy to talk to, someone you instantly want to get to know.

I watched her for a few minutes while she mingled with a handful of people, faceless people. I couldn't even tell you if they were male or female. My eyes were set on her.

She had reddish-brown hair, or perhaps it was coloured, I couldn't really tell. It fell past her shoulders in soft waves that framed her pretty face. She had full lips that I enjoyed watching move while she spoke, though I couldn't make out the words. She wore a black dress that accentuated her full curves with confidence and taste, and a bit of modesty. I was quite taken with her.

After a while I realised I must have looked like a fool for staring, so I averted my gaze and made my way to the open bar. Ordering a drink, I turned around to look in her direction again. We made eye contact, and she smiled.

I think I smiled back. I was sure I did. But all I could think about was the blood pumping through my veins at triple speed, making me feel light-headed. She was stunning.

As quickly as she'd acknowledged me, she'd turned away. Another woman standing next to her had a hold of her arm, and it looked as though she was introducing her to someone else. I watched her shake hands with him, instantly feeling a ping of jealousy.

I wanted to go up to her and introduce myself, but my feet were resolved to keep me bolted to the ground. I shook my head, internally calling myself a git and a wanker, no doubt the biggest idiot in the room. I had no problem talking to women. I had no idea why this should be any different.

I took a massive gulp from my glass, setting it on the bar. Then after letting out a few deep breaths, I turned around again, determined to at least go say hello.

As soon as I took a step toward her, our eyes met again. This time I know I smiled, and she returned it with one of her own before biting her bottom lip. That luscious, full, bottom lip.

"Hey, Styles, how's it going?" I heard a voice to my left.

Narrowing my eyes in frustration, I greeted the man, exchanging pleasantries. I'd already forgotten his name from the last time we'd met, but it didn't seem to matter. He patted my shoulder before strolling past me to the bar, finally allowing me to continue my mission.

My annoyance only grew as I was stopped by more people along the way, but I did my best to give them my attention like I always do. When the last two people decided to make small talk with me, I shifted my gaze to see if the lovely lady was still where she'd been standing. She was, only now she had a semi-circle of people standing around her. I watched her laugh at something one of the other girls had said, throwing her head back before covering her mouth with her hand. I couldn't help but smile. She had a great laugh, and she looked beautiful while doing it.

I heard one of the girls I'd been chatting with, a model I think, say something to me, so I turned my attention back to her, but only to kindly excuse myself. She was pretty and nice enough, but I had my sights set on someone else tonight.

Finally, I was two steps away. I stood behind one of the women she was talking to, my eyes focused on hers, silently willing her to look up at me. When she did, her face broke into a smile again, lighting up the room. The woman to whom she'd been conversing must have noticed, because she turned around.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, looking up at me. "Harry!"

"Hello," I nodded.

This woman also looked familiar, but in a different way. She quickly introduced herself, and I recognised her name.

"This is my dear friend, Victoria," she said, gesturing toward the woman I'd come to meet. "I think she's kind of a fan of yours."

"Stop it," muttered Victoria, poking her friend in the arm.

I grinned as I held out my hand. "Nice to meet you, Victoria."

"How do you do," she smiled, shaking my hand.

I wasn't sure if it was her smile or her soft hand that sent a bolt of electricity throughout my body, but perhaps it was a little of both. Now that I was up close, I noticed she was even prettier. She was not a small, petite girl. She was a bigger gal, with womanly curves. And as far as I was concerned, she could rival anyone's beauty in the entire room. I felt drawn to her, and we'd only just been introduced.

Our eyes seemed to be locked on each other until I heard her friend, whose name now escapes me, clear her throat.

"I think I'm going to get another drink," she announced.

"Okay," nodded Victoria, not peeling her gaze from me.

I smirked as she bit her bottom lip again. If she was going to continue doing that, I might just have to grab her and kiss her right there.

"So, Victoria," I said, "have we met before? You look really familiar to me."

She giggled, shaking her head. "God, no."

"Are you sure?"

She raised her eyebrows. "I'm quite certain I would remember."

"Okay then," I chuckled. "Maybe it was in a dream."

Victoria was silent for a moment until she let out a sound. "Pppffff. Is that some sort of a line?"

"No," I narrowed my eyes and shrugged.

I wasn't angry with her for thinking that; I was more perturbed at myself for saying it out loud. It was pretty cheesy.

Her face softened. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"No, no," I waved it off, "I'm sorry. That was a dumb thing to say."

I cursed myself as I looked around the room, thinking for sure she was about ready to tell me to get lost.

"No, it wasn't," I heard her say. "It was kinda cute."

I shook my head at the ground before lifting it to look at her again. She had the prettiest glow about her. I couldn't quite describe it. I wanted to know her, to hold her, to kiss her. I placed my hand over my heart.

"I apologise for the cheesy line."

"Apology accepted," she grinned.

Victoria and I spent the next two hours or so getting to know each other. The more I learned about her, the more I liked her, and the more attracted I was to her. There was no doubt there had been a spark when I first saw her, but after spending time with her, I could tell it was full blown chemistry. I wanted her, and her flirtatious personality and body language told me she felt the same.

As usual, other people came up to me during the night, and though I stopped to talk to them, I never left Victoria's side, nor did she mine, except to go to the bar and return with drinks.

As the end of the night approached, I began to feel anxious. I didn't want to say goodbye to Victoria, though I was certain if I asked to see her again she would have said yes. The words that came out of her mouth as she set her empty glass on the bar surprised me, however.

"Harry," she said, looking up at me with her big brown eyes, "I'm afraid I don't have a ride."

"What?" I raised my eyebrows.

"My friends left long ago," she confessed, a shy smile on her lips.

She didn't have to tell me any more. I knew what she meant. I actually felt my heart flutter and my stomach do a flip as I stood up and offered her my hand. She took it with no hesitation, and I led her to the exit.

We were silent in the car until I asked her where she was staying. When she told me, I then told the driver before gently placing my hand on her knee. She smiled up at me, giving me a signal that she was okay with my touching her. Leaning closer, I paused before lowering my mouth onto hers. She tasted sweet, like the cocktails she'd been drinking all evening, sending a buzz throughout my nervous system, like a bolt of electricity.

The car pulled in front of the hotel in what seemed liked mere seconds, the driver opening the door on my side. I stepped out, turning around to take Victoria's hand. With my hand on the small of her back, I walked with her to the lift. She was quiet on the ride up to her floor, but I couldn't stop staring at her. I couldn't wait to get to her room and undress her.

When the lift doors opened, she jumped a little, like she'd been in deep thought. I grinned to myself, knowing she'd been thinking about me and what was to come.

I stood next to her as she opened her small handbag and pulled out a room key, sliding it into the slot to unlock the door. She remained quiet as I followed her in the room, letting the door shut behind me. I watched her as she tossed her bag in the chair beside the window before turning around to face me. She had another of her lovely smiles on her face, but this one was underlined with nerves.

Wanting to put her at ease, I stepped closer to her and took her hands in mine. I rubbed the backs of them with my thumbs as I gazed into her eyes. Then ever so slightly, I lifted one hand to her neck, pulling her to me and kissing her soft lips.

She sighed as her body leaned into mine. My mouth still covering hers, I shook out of my jacket, tossing it on the chair where she'd dropped her bag. Then I grabbed her hips and pulled her flush against me, so close I could feel her heartbeat.

I continued to kiss her as her hands found the back of my head, letting me know she enjoyed being kissed and wasn't wanting to stop any time soon. That was fine with me. She had such kissable lips.

After exploring her mouth with my tongue, I moved my lips across her cheek to her ear, allowing her a moment to catch her breath.

"Harry..." she whispered as my lips travelled down to her neck.

The vibration of her voice against my mouth sent me into overdrive. I felt myself get hard almost instantly. Her skin was so soft, I wanted to explore every bit.

My mouth found hers again as my hands ran up her back, finding the top of the zipper. Just as I began to pull it down, her hands gripped my elbows.

"Wait," she breathed, pulling away from the kiss.

"What is it?" I asked.

I suddenly realised she was trembling, a look of apprehension on her face.

"Hey," I said, sliding my hands under her ears, "There's no need to be nervous with me."

She made a sound, like an incredulous laugh as she shook her head. "Are you kidding?"

"No, I'm not," I confirmed. "I want you, Victoria."

I kissed her plump lips softly, gently sliding my tongue in between to meet hers. I felt her body relax, leaning into mine as I slid my right hand down to cup her breast. When I separated my mouth from hers, I gazed into her eyes.

"Do you want me?" I murmured.

She bit her lip and slowly nodded. "Yes, but..."

"But what?"

Victoria hesitated for a moment before lowering her eyes.

"My body," she whispered.

I quickly clipped her chin with my finger, lifting it up so that she'd look at me.

"You're beautiful."

"No, I'm not," she rolled her eyes. "I'm gross."

I furrowed my brows. "Stop that."

She huffed out a sigh, her shoulders dropping.

"I'm sorry," she said.

Trying my best to reassure her that I thought she was incredible and I wanted her, I lightly kissed her forehead, down her nose to her lips. Then I reached around to grab the zipper again.

"May I?"

Sucking in her lips, she closed her eyes and nodded.

I studied her face as I undid the zipper, letting her dress fall off her shoulders, exposing her breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra, as the dress hadn't required one, and I heard myself audibly gasp.

"Open your eyes, baby," I whispered.

I watched her eyelids flutter as she struggled to do what I asked. Slowly they opened, her dark eyes darting across the room, anywhere but on me.

"Look at me," I demanded, my hands still resting on her lower back.

Finally meeting my eyes, she let out a breath. I smiled and pulled her closer.

"You're so beautiful, Victoria," I said truthfully.

Grabbing the bottom half of the dress at her hips, I pulled it down, letting it fall to the floor. Immediately, Victoria folded her arms across her waist, but I took hold of them.

"Don't," I shook my head.

"I'm fat," she complained, looking at the floor again.

This time as she trembled, I thought she might be crying. My heart ached to see her like this, so insecure and ashamed of her body. She was gorgeous, and I was determined to make her feel that way.

"Victoria," I muttered, lifting her chin again, "I want you. I want to make love to you. I want to make you feel good. Alright?"

Something I said must have lit a fire inside her, because she grinned and nodded, then crashed her lips into mine. I growled as she ran her hands down my chest, hastily unbuttoning my shirt. I shrugged out of it, tossing it behind me before helping her step out of her dress and shoes. Her arms around my neck, I guided her backwards to the bed, laying her down gently.

Still determined to caress every bit of her skin, I nipped at her neck, making my way down slowly to her chest. I heard her breath catch as I took her nipple into my mouth, licking and sucking sensually. I felt her fingers tangle in my hair as I moved to her other breast, giving it the same treatment.

"Oh, God," she barely whispered.

I lifted my head to look at her as my hands slid down her waist to the lace trim of her panties.

"You okay?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Can't believe this is real," she confessed.

I grinned and licked my lips, shifting back up to meet her eyes. "Tell me how you like to be touched."

"What?" she asked incredulously.

"What feels good to you?" I inquired.

She stared at me blankly, and it was apparent no one had ever asked her that before. Situating my body next to hers, I brought two fingers to my mouth to wet them. Victoria kept her eyes on me as I lowered my hand to her panties, sliding it inside. My wet fingers met her clit and she arched her back with a moan.

"Does that feel good?" I asked as I rotated.

Unable to get the words out through her rapid breathing, she merely nodded. She swallowed hard to catch her breath before letting out a sexy little cry.

Slipping my fingers down to her entrance, I slid them inside. Victoria lifted her hips to meet my hand as I pumped in and out. Resting my thumb on her swollen bud, I began to rotate slightly.

"Ha-Har-oh-God," she cried.

"Yes," I murmured in her ear. "Let go for me, baby,"

I kissed her jaw, moving slowly to her lips. Her breathing was jagged as she took my tongue into her mouth, short moans escaping. As she came, she held onto me, her fingers digging into my back. I chuckled as she released her hold on me, her body still shaking.

"That was good, yeah?" I asked, sliding my hand out of her panties.

She nodded vigorously, bringing her hands up to cup my face before kissing me deeply.

"Victoria," I said, after her breathing was returned to normal.

"Yes?"

"I'd like to have more inside you than just my fingers."

I watched her beautiful lips break into a smile as her eyes sparkled.

"Would you like that?" I asked.

She bit her lip. God, it drove me crazy when she did that. "Yes."

Before I could respond, she reached for the waistband of my jeans and jerked them open. I couldn't help but smile at her newfound bold confidence. It turned me on to say the least.

"Just a minute, baby," I smirked, standing up from the bed.

She kept her eyes on me while I removed my jeans, then grabbed the sides of her panties and pulled them down. Then I slid a condom on my waiting erection before crawling on top of her.

She opened her legs wide for me as I aimed at her center. She blinked slowly when I entered her, sucking in a breath. Then she spread her hands over my shoulders and down to my chest.

"You feel amazing," I told her as my hips rocked back and forth. "So good."

She let her head fall back as I kissed her neck. My left hand rested next to her shoulder as my right held a firm grip on her hip. I felt the burn building up in my stomach as I thrust harder and deeper.

The sounds she made were so sexy, I had a hard time keeping a steady rhythm. One more little kitten-like cry and I might come too soon.

"Ohhhh, Harrrrryyy," she moaned, nearly sending me over the edge.

"Shit, baby, you're so fucking sexy."

I wrapped my arm around the back of her waist then, pulling her as close to me as possible. My thrusts became sloppy and uneven, but I couldn't help it. I was so close.

Victoria cried out then, coming even harder than she had with my fingers. That was it for me. I cursed as I came, two more large thrusts before collapsing and out of breath.

"Victoria," I said, pulling her body to mine.

She looked at me with a myriad of questions written on her face. But her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink and she looked even more lovely than before.

"You're so beautiful," I told her before kissing her wonderful lips. "So gorgeous." Another kiss. "So sexy." And another. "So incredible."

I continued with the compliments and kisses until she started to giggle.

"Okay, I get it," she teased. "I'm the best."

"You are," I sighed, giving her one last kiss. "Yes, you are."

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK