#i caught her looking at me a few times and while i was trying not to sob i looked up and saw her staring very intently at me

[maretinelli]

SWEET DISASTERS

Lando Norris X fem!reader

Summary: All the times Y/n was so clumsy and got genuine laughs out of her boyfriend.

Words: 2.7K+

Warnings: Makeout session, broken glass, mentions of injury but very funny, disastrous and cute Lando

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. And this could EASILY happen to me, I'm a walking disaster too.

MASTERLIST

Y/n was putting her bags in the trunk of the car, already getting ready to go back to university after a long weekend at Lando's house.

He, always helpful, insisted on taking the larger suitcases from the apartment to the car, while she organized everything in the back.

"That was the last one!" Lando warned, carrying the largest suitcase with annoying ease. He gave his girlfriend a soft kiss on the shoulder.

Y/n, with her head already inside the trunk, tried to adjust each item as if it were a game of Tetris.

"Okay, just slide it in there and you're done!" She said, patting the space she'd just made. Lando put the suitcase in place, then mumbled something about getting something from the driver's seat. She just waved her hand, focused on getting everything ready.

That's when it happened.

Y/n, trying to reach a bag that had fallen to the bottom of the trunk, lost her balance.

"Ops!"

Was all he could say before he fell into the compartment with everything. The impact was enough for the lid, by pure gravity, to close with a click.

Y/n blinked a few times, processing what had just happened. She was literally trapped in the trunk.

"Lando!" She called, her voice a little muffled, but not at all desperate.

He didn't answer. He was probably still in the front seat, distracted. "Lando dear, can you come here real quick?"

Still no response, she tried something more flashy. Somehow, she managed to stretch out her leg and started tapping her foot against the back window.

Lando, hearing the muffled sound and knocking, looked up. "Y/n love, what was that?" he muttered. Getting out of the car and walking to the back, when he saw the trunk closed and Y/n's foot sticking out the side, he froze for a second.

And then he started laughing.

"Y/n, for the love of God, what are you doing in there?" He asked, almost out of breath.

"I went to pack my bags and... well, I got ready too... Now, could you open this before I turn into a statue in here?"

Still laughing, Lando opened the trunk, revealing Y/n curled up, with red cheeks and an awkward smile.

"Are you okay there or do you want me to give you a little more time to reflect on your life decisions?"

Y/n got out of the trunk, fixing her hair, while he was still trying to compose himself. "Very funny, Norris. Next time, I'll leave you stuck in there and see what it's like."

"Impossible. I'm too smart to let myself fall into a trap like that," he replied, winking at her. But still laughing.

Y/n rolled her eyes, but soon started laughing along. "Okay, but promise me one thing."

"What?"

"That you will never tell anyone about this."

Lando gave a mischievous grin. "No promises."

•••••••••••••••••••••

Winter was punishing outside, but inside the apartment, the weather was completely opposite. Y/n and Lando were on the couch, cuddled under a blanket, their cheeks flushed and not just from the heating. The kiss between the two started slowly, but it quickly intensified.

Y/n was sitting on Lando's lap, with her legs on either side of him, while their hands explored every inch of the other. Despite the cold outside, the warmth of the moment made them both forget that it was winter.

Y/n laughed between kisses, Lando's fingers wandering around her waist and up her back, leaving goosebumps along the way. She, in turn, began to run her hands over her own skin, pushing the fabric of her sweatshirt up, wanting to take it off.

But that's when disaster struck.

In her haste and in the heat of the moment, she pulled her sweatshirt over her head, but somehow the fabric got caught.

The shirt got tangled in her hair and completely covered her face, leaving only her arms raised and uselessly trapped. She started to laugh, but the sound was muffled by the sweatshirt that was still on her head.

"Lando... I think I need some help here!" She said, between muffled giggles.

Lando, who was already trying to hold back his laughter, couldn't hold it in any longer. He collapsed on the couch, laughing so loudly that his cheeks turned redder. "My God, you look like a ghost in the hoodie!" He said, his voice cracking with laughter.

Y/n crossed her arms, clearly giving up on trying to take off the piece of clothing herself. Now she looked even funnier, with her face covered and her arms crossed in frustration.

"If you don't stop laughing, I'll be here forever!" Y/n complained, but the playful tone in her voice revealed that she was having as much fun as he was.

"Sorry, sorry," Lando said, still struggling to contain his laughter. He finally leaned over to help her, pulling her sweatshirt down and tugging it back onto her body.

When her face became visible again, it was as red as his.

She got off his lap, adjusting her sweatshirt as she rolled her eyes. "Great. Now all the warm weather between us is gone to the universe." She said, trying to look serious but failing as a smile escaped at the end.

Lando, still laughing, leaned back against the couch and looked at her. "I can't deal with you sometimes. You're the most adorable disaster I've ever met."

Y/n giggled and threw a pillow at him. "Okay, okay. I'll make you some hot chocolate. Do you want some?"

"I do" Norris replied, still smiling. "But please try not to spill anything. The sweatshirt was stuck enough."

She laughed, shaking her head, and went into the kitchen while Lando stayed on the couch, the scene etched in his memory as just another of the many funny stories they would share.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

The night was special. After so much dedication, love and trust, they finally had something huge to celebrate their engagement.

Y/n, with her contagious energy, said that the moment deserved champagne, and Lando agreed, smiling when he saw the excitement in her eyes.

She smiled, her eyes flicking between her future husband and the ring she had received a few hours earlier.

"Today is our day! I insist on popping the champagne!" She declared, as Lando followed her to the kitchen with a smile on his face, taking the opportunity to leave little kisses on his bride's face along the way.

In the kitchen, Lando leaned casually on the marble counter, watching Y/n grab a bottle of champagne from the small wine cellar they had in the apartment.

"Are you sure you want to do this? Remember the last time you tried to open a bottle of bubbly?" He teased with a mischievous smile.

"I'm absolutely prepared!" Y/n replied confidently. While she adjusted the bottle, Lando took two crystal glasses from the cabinet and carefully placed them on the counter, a few inches away.

"Alright, Miss Confident Norris. Do the honors," Lando said, crossing his arms, smiling and watching.

Y/n held the bottle with determination and looked at Lando. "To all the amazing moments that are yet to come." She said with a wide smile.

And then it happened.

The sound of the cork popping echoed through the kitchen. But to Y/n's horror, the cap flew like a missile, hitting the cabinet hard. The impact was so strong that it bounced directly off the glasses hanging on the counter. The sound of breaking glass was immediate - three glasses fell into the sink and shattered.

"OH MY GOD!" Y/n screamed, cowering close to the pilot as the sound of shards echoed through the kitchen. Lando also jumped a little, hugging her from the side, but soon began to laugh.

"I can't believe this happened..." Y/n said, her hand over her mouth, looking at the broken pieces in the sink. Her eyes were slightly watery, and she made a face like she was about to cry. "I broke everything..."

Lando, on the other hand, couldn't hold it in. He was laughing so hard he could barely speak, tears streaming down his eyes as he held the two glasses he managed to save.

"You're... amazing! Who else can turn an engagement celebration into a glass battlefield?!"

"Lando, stop laughing, this is serious!" Y/n complained, but his amused expression was so contagious that she couldn't help but smile a little.

Still laughing, he walked over to her, set their glasses down on the counter, and pulled her in for a quick kiss on the cheek. "You definitely made it even more memorable. I'll never forget our killer champagne."

Y/n let out a laugh, shaking her head. "Next time, I'll leave it to you. You're more used to popping champagne."

"Good idea" he replied, still smiling. "But you have to admit, this was a lot more fun."

They both laughed together as they began to clean up the pieces of glass, turning the disaster into yet another fun memory that they would always carry with them.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Lando was sitting on the couch, his arms resting on the back as he watched Y/n walk around the room, gesturing excitedly. She was telling him about the visit she made to her family while he was out running. His smile was impossible to hide, the passion with which she talked about anything always left him enchanted. seeing her

"And then my little brother...you know how energetic he is, he started teaching me some karate moves," Y/n said, laughing as she imitated the 15-year-old's serious tone. "He said I needed to learn how to defend myself, you know? Because according to him: 'You never know when you're going to need a spinning kick.'"

Lando let out a low chuckle, "Well, that sounds pretty useful. Just in case one of my adversaries decides to show up on the street."

"Exactly!" Y/n agreed, still laughing, as she stopped in the middle of the room and looked at him. "Want to see what the move looks like? It's pretty cool."

He crossed his arms, leaning forward slightly with a fond, amused smile. "Sure thing, love. Show me, Karate Champion."

She laughed, excited that he was interested, and positioned herself in the center of the room, adjusting her feet as her brother had taught her.

"See? First you prepare like this..." She showed the starting position, with her hands raised in guard. "And then you spin and-"

Before I could finish explaining, Y/n did the spin, but her foot didn't meet the air like she planned. The kick hit the side of the TV with a loud THUD, and the force of the impact was enough to knock it to the ground.

"Oh...my...God!" She screamed, her eyes widening as she clapped her hand over her mouth. She looked up to see the TV screen with a huge diagonal crack in it.

Lando froze for a second, but soon burst out laughing, holding his stomach as he fell back against the couch. "You... you just... knocked out the TV!" He said, struggling between laughs.

Y/n was still on the floor, a little scared by the situation with the TV, but also starting to find it funny. "I'm fine, before you ask. But I don't think the TV is." She said, looking at the destroyed screen with an expression of pure guilt.

Lando approached her, kneeling beside her while still laughing. "Are you okay? Didn't you sprain anything in your big epic stunt?"

"No, just my dignity," she replied, rolling her eyes but smiling. "And of course, the poor electronic device..."

He let out another laugh and ran his hand through her hair. "Well, at least the TV was the only casualty. Who knew my couch was a war zone?"

"Oh, shut up" Y/n said, still laughing, as she threw herself onto his chest, pushing him lightly. The two ended up lying on the living room floor, laughing together.

Lando took advantage of the proximity to start giving her little kisses on the face. "My love, you are the sweetest disaster I've ever seen" He murmured between kisses, drawing a smile from her. "And next time, I think it's better not to mix karate and electronics" He finished, laughing, while Y/n shook her head and promised to stay away from the TV.

"Damn, we're going to have to go out and buy a new TV."

Lando laughs and caresses her face. "That's the least of it."

•••••••••••••••••••••••

The end of year holidays were peaceful and full of special moments. Y/n and Lando had decided to spend them with her family, in the cozy country house that her mother loved. The weather was perfect - cold enough to remind her of winter, but sunny enough for outdoor games.

Lando was on the deck, sitting in one of the comfortable chairs and chatting with Y/n's father, her brothers and some of her brothers-in-law. They were laughing and exchanging stories while, on the lawn, Y/n played baseball with her nephews, trying to keep up with the children's boundless energy.

One of Y/n's brothers, laughing, commented as he looked at her on the lawn. "So, Lando, how many disasters has my sister caused since they got here?"

The family knew what a disastrous and energetic person Y/n was. This had been the case since the day she was born.

Lando chuckled, leaning his elbow on the arm of the chair and watching Y/n excitedly, holding the baseball bat with an almost childish enthusiasm.

"Oh, more than I can count. But honestly, it's part of her charm, isn't it?" He gave a knowing smile, drawing laughter from the others. "It's one of the things I fell in love with her for..." He whispers, smiling fondly.

Everyone on the deck looked in her direction, just in time to see Y/n positioning herself to hit the ball that one of her nephews threw.

She took confident aim and swung the cue, but instead of hitting the ball, she ended up swinging awkwardly and hitting herself hard in the back.

"AH!" Her scream echoed, and Y/n immediately dropped the bat, leaning over and falling backwards onto the grass.

Lando stood up quickly, as he saw the children run to her, surrounding her with worried expressions. He hurriedly got down from the deck, startled by the scream, but slowed down when he saw Y/n lying on the grass, laughing.

"Are you laughing?" He asked in disbelief as he knelt down beside her.

"I just hit myself with a bat, Lan! What else can I do but laugh?!" Y/n replied, holding her stomach from laughing so hard, even with the discomfort in her back.

Lando started laughing along, relieved that it wasn't anything more serious. He helped her sit on the grass, and Y/n, still laughing, handed the bat to one of her nephews.

"Okay, Auntie's sweet children. Please continue playing without Auntie this time." She smiled. And even though they were scared and reluctant, the little ones started playing again.

Even though his mood was light, Lando ran his hand gently down her back. "Let me see. Does it hurt a lot?"

"Oh, just a little." Lando looks at her. "Okay, maybe a lot." She admitted, grimacing.

"Excuse me, honey," he asked, lifting her shirt a little at the back. A red mark was beginning to form, indicating the bruise that would come. Lando sighed, gently rubbing his hand. "This is going to turn purple... you really are talented at getting hurt, you know that?"

Y/n held back a slight cry of pain, but soon rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the affection. "And you're talented at taking care of me. I think we make a perfect team."

He chuckled and kissed the side of her head. "My clumsy wonder woman. You are one of a kind."

Lando helped Y/n up, walking with her back to the deck.

Once they arrived, her father laughed, shaking his head. "Lando, I'm sure she does these things just to make sure you never lose the habit of taking care of her."

She rolls her eyes to try to hide the shy smile on her lips.

"Maybe" Lando replied with a smile, pulling Y/n closer. "But I wouldn't change a thing. She makes my days much more interesting."

Y/n laughed, shaking her head and leaning against her fiancé. Even with her clumsy tendencies, she knew that with Lando by her side, she would always have someone to laugh with her and love her unconditionally.

To him, his bride was nothing less than a true wonder woman.

[muse-hodgepodge]

Sans nods when she says she was just going to observe what happened and rubs a hand over his skull. It was apparent he was pretty stressed then but was handling it all fairly well he thought. Hopefully this would work out and he'd get his dad back... He then realizes that for the first time in what felt like eons that he actually had hope for something. Hoo boy was that a new and mildly terrifying feeling.

"Okay... Good luck, I'll see ya in a bit then. At least for you." He chuckles and goes to sit by the wall as she prepares herself so he can take those few seconds to prepare himself as best as he can too. Back in time when she lands can show her she had landed right before the accident occurred. There, stood a rather tall skeleton though he wasn't as tall as Papyrus and there in the middle of both palms were perfect holes. He was chatting with the other scientists, including a much younger and happier looking Sans. Though he wasn't truly speaking, he was signing to them happily though there was a seriousness to the motions too.

"Alright Dings, I'm gonna fire it up then," said a younger Sans while Gaster gave him a fond but exasperated look. 'I have told you to refrain from calling me that but yes please start the sequence.' Sans did just that and everything stable for about 30 seconds before the hole they'd created began to warp and expand quickly. It pulled in the closest monsters, sucking them in whole while Sans and Gaster watched in absolute horror while they themselves were holding on to anything for dear life.

Sans was trying to pull himself to reach the shutdown button but before he could reach it his foot slid out from under him, pulling him quickly to the hole and Reyna can see just how panicked Gaster got at that sight. He immediately released one hand to summon that Gaster Blaster that caught Sans by the arm which began to bleed from the sharp teeth holding the bone tightly. Though in doing so he himself lost grip and he began getting hurdled into the rip as it began to close. However, rather than look terrified like he should be he actually looked relieved, assumingly because he'd managed to save his son from this exact fate. He hit the too small opening, maintaining his magic until the force of the pull shattered him through the gap as it closed entirely. Only then did the Gaster Blaster release its hold upon the young skeleton who was just staring in open horror and utter agony at where the opening had just been, ignoring his mangled arm while he screamed and tried to get where he'd just seen all his friends and dad get taken away. This is where the medical team came in, looking completely confused as to what happened and why there was only a very injured and emotionally broken skeleton at the heart of the CORE where the emergency siren was blaring.

It's as the team works on saving Sans and transporting him out of there that Reyna could see a phantom of what appeared to be a very melted and barely held together skeleton standing off to the side. At the very core of the monster was the tiniest pieces of soul, like the being was holding them together by sheer perseverance and willpower. Two melty hands appear in front of him and he signs, 'my greatest success... was saving him... from this fate...' Seems he could tell Reyna was there and was trying very hard to be seen by her in turn.

Reyna follows Sans to the CORE. It was a very unique looking area to say the least. Geothermal power, she should certainly consider that a possibility in the future. Maybe combining it with Eternal Engines could create some unique opportunities. When they arrive at the closest they can get, Reyna nods at Sans.

"I'm not gonna do anything in the past beyond observation. I see Gaster's soul, I can easily find where it went. When that's done, I'll find the shards, and then return him, soul in hand." She says. It was all something she is more than familiar with. She knows how to not disturb the past and is quite aware of how even small changes can effect it.

"I'll be back...well, I'd say soon, but it's more like in an instant for you. Just a couple seconds after I leave really. So, I'll see you then!" She exclaims, before tying herself as an anchor to the Gaster Blaster Sans has out. And with that, she begins diving back in time. As she does, she turns invisible to make sure none can see or sense her.

[yanderecrazysie]

Thank you so much for commissioning me! I’ve almost finished them all and am so honored to be chosen by you guys. Feel free to email me if you want the one shot to be changed in any way.

Title: Jealousy Looks Hot on You

Pairings: Dabi x Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes, NSFW, DUB-CON, adult characters as always, bullying, quirkless AU

Many have said that a boy who pulls on a girl’s pigtails and pushes her down into the dirt actually has a crush on the girl. When they grow up, they grow out of it and start showing their affection in healthier ways.

Maybe, you thought, maybe Dabi just never outgrew that childhood crush. Or, maybe, he hated your guts for no reason. As far as you knew, you were the only one he bullied, but that didn’t exactly make you feel special.

Maybe he just thought you were easy to pick on. You were quiet and shy- an easy target. But over time, you began to doubt that Dabi’s focus was random. His electric blue eyes followed you everywhere, like he was trying to memorize every detail about you.

“Hey, cupcake,” Dabi was blocking the hallway. His grin down at you was smug and mocking and it sent shivers down your spine.

“Leave me alone, Dabi,” you said softly, clenching your fists, I don’t have time for your stupid games.”

He grinned, “What a shame. See, I have plenty of time for you, sweetheart.” He reached out to brush his fingers across your cheek and snickered, “You look so cute when you’re mad.”

You shuddered and backed away. Before you could say anything more, you heard a voice say, “Hey! Leave her alone!”

Your eyes went wide in surprise- no one had ever stood up for you before. Dabi’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he turned around to face whoever dared to shorten his time with you.

It was the new kid, who had transferred only a week ago. Your eyes practically sparkled as you looked at him, so overwhelmed with happiness that someone actually cared. Dabi’s eyes, on the other hand, danced with deadly fire.

“Go away loverboy,” Dabi sneered, “This ain’t any of your business.”

Instead, the newbie held out his hand to you. You took advantage of Dabi’s surprise and rushed forward, taking his hand into yours and allowing him to pull you away. 

You didn’t look back, but if you had, you’d see Dabi looking downright murderous.

—------------

The newbie and you grew closer over the next few days. You saw him as your friend and, when Dabi was around, your savior. He was so protective, so caring… how could you not want to spend your time with him?

The only problem was that you could tell he was developing a crush on you, when you did not feel the same. You crossed your fingers that he wouldn’t bring it up and ruin your budding friendship.

“Go on, I’ll catch up!” you reassured your new friend. You had been chosen to stay behind and clean the classroom for the day. He had become a little clingy, so you welcomed the silence.

The door to the classroom opened again, and you sighed in annoyance, “I said to go on!”

“Funny,” came a rough, deep voice, “I don’t think you’ve said anything to me in a while.”

You froze in place from where you’d been wiping down the desks and slowly, slowly turned to face Dabi. He didn’t look particularly angry, but you knew he could play calm when he wanted to.

He was in front of you with just a few strides of his long legs. A hand came down and squeezed your hip.

“You know, it really is a shame you made this desk so clean.”

“Why’s that?” your voice came out in a near-whisper. You’d forgotten how terrifying it was to be alone with Dabi.

“Because I plan to make it very dirty,” Dabi chuckled, swiping his tongue over his lips.

You tried to back up, but the desk stopped you from retreating. Dabi grabbed both of your hips and lifted you onto the freshly-wet desk. You squealed in surprise as you were laid out on your back, uncomfortably aware of how exposed this position made you feel.

Dabi grinned down at you like the cat who caught the mouse. You trembled under his hungry gaze and gasped when he flipped your skirt up. “Hey!” you cried out in shock.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Dabi laughed, “I’ll be gentle.”

Were you strong enough to fight him off? Probably not… Did you want to fight him off? A part of you said no, but another part was getting wetter and wetter at the possibility of getting fucked like this. Was that messed up of you? Probably.

Dabi traced his fingers over the waistband of your panties before hooking them into the elastic and pulled them down. You whimpered as your cunt met the cold air of the classroom, feeling humiliated as Dabi swiped one finger down your slit, gathering the wetness that accumulated there.

“You’re getting off on this,” Dabi said, looking half-smug, half-stunned.

“N-no, I’m not!” you stammered in embarrassment.

Dabi stuck his finger in your open mouth, forcing you to taste your own sweetness, “Taste that, sweetheart? That’s alllll you, baby.”

He pulled his finger out with a pop and crashed his lips into yours. You could hear his hands hurrying to unbuckle his belt and the zip of his pants unzipping. 

Before you could even see what you were working with, he pressed into you. You were wet, sure, but he was huge and the stretch brought tears to your eyes.

Dabi groaned and went still. The feeling of being torn open faded away, leaving you needing more. Dabi looked at you with hooded eyes, “Beg me for it.”

“Huh?” you shook your head frantically, “Don’t make me!”

“You want it, ask for it,” he reiterated, grinding his crotch against yours, catching your clit a little and making you whine.

“F-fine,” you whimpered, “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please… f-fuck me.”

“You can do better than that,” he snapped.

You closed your eyes and wailed out, “Please, fuck me, Dabi! I want you to fuck me, please, please, please!”

You heard something go crashing to the ground and your eyes darted to the door to the classroom. Your new friend was staring in horror, his backpack laying on the classroom floor where he’d dropped it.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything to him, but instead, all that came out was a moan, because Dabi’s hands had sneaked under your shirt and bra and pinched both nipples at one time.

The hurt in your friend’s eyes was too much to bear, so you looked away. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Dabi grinning maniacally. Victoriously.

He pulled out then slammed into you until you were seeing stars. You convulsed as your orgasm sneaked up on you, crashing over you like ocean waves. You heard the door shut as your friend left.

“Good riddance,” Dabi said breathlessly, “You didn’t need that little pussy. I’m better for you. And if you ever go back…”

He leaned in close to your ear so you could hear every word.

“I’ll make you fuck me in front of his corpse.”

[broidobe]

𝔰𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔟

requested!

☾a shy and skeptical bill bailey (pre-fame axl rose) finds unexpected kindness and connection when a girl sits with him in the cafeteria, sharing her lunch and breaking through his guarded exterior.☽

☾warnings: mentions of bullying, social isolation, and mild language☽

⁎⁺˳✧༚guns and roses masterlist

the hum of the school cafeteria buzzed like a hive, full of voices overlapping, laughter spilling from crowded tables, and the occasional scrape of plastic trays against formica. among the chaos, one table sat starkly empty, save for one figure hunched over his lunch.

bill bailey sat with his shoulders rounded and his red hair curtaining his face. he picked at a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, occasionally glancing up through his bangs to check if anyone was watching. his old leather jacket, a little too big for his wiry frame, creaked softly as he moved.

you noticed him from your spot a few tables away. while the rest of the cafeteria seemed animated—friends gossiping, couples sharing fries—bill’s loneliness stood out like a sore thumb. he always sat alone. you’d seen him get shoved into lockers a few times, heard the names people threw his way: “freak,” “redneck,” and worse.

today, though, something made you stand. grabbing your lunch tray, you wove through the tables and made your way toward him.

he looked up as you approached, his green eyes wide with suspicion. “uh… what do you want?” he asked, his voice quiet but sharp enough to put up a barrier.

you smiled gently and set your tray down across from him. “just thought i’d sit with you. is that okay?”

his gaze darted to the other tables, where a few kids had started whispering and pointing. he huffed and looked back down at his sandwich. “you don’t have to. i’m fine by myself.”

“well, i’ve got an extra apple,” you said, pulling it from your tray and rolling it across the table toward him. “figured you might want it.”

bill stared at the apple like it might bite him. “why are you being nice to me?”

you shrugged. “because i want to be. do i need a reason?”

he squinted at you, as if trying to decide whether you were messing with him. when he didn’t immediately shove the apple back, you smiled and unwrapped your sandwich.

the silence stretched for a moment before you spoke again. “so, do you like pb&j, or is it just survival food?”

he blinked, caught off guard by the casual question. “uh, i guess i like it. cheap and easy, y’know?”

you nodded, taking a bite of your sandwich. “can’t argue with that. but if you had to pick your favorite food, what would it be?”

bill hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sandwich. “i dunno… maybe spaghetti. my mom used to make it a lot.”

“that’s a good choice,” you said, smiling. “i make a pretty mean spaghetti, too. secret ingredient: a pinch of cinnamon in the sauce.”

“cinnamon?” he asked, his eyebrows lifting. “that’s… weird.”

“it’s good, i promise!” you laughed. “i’ll make it for you sometime, and you’ll see.”

bill’s face softened at the idea, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “maybe.”

as the two of you talked, the tension in his shoulders eased. he opened up bit by bit, telling you about the music he liked—bands like led zeppelin and queen—and how he wanted to learn piano but didn’t have one at home. you shared your own favorite bands, and before long, you were laughing together over the ridiculous outfits freddie mercury used to wear on stage.

when the lunch period was nearly over, bill leaned back in his chair, his sandwich mostly eaten and the apple now resting in his hand. “you’re not like the others,” he said, his tone quieter now, almost shy.

you tilted your head. “is that a good thing?”

“yeah,” he said after a moment, a genuine smile breaking across his face. “it is.”

the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and you stood to gather your tray. “see you tomorrow?” you asked, hopeful.

bill nodded, the apple still in his hand. “yeah. thanks… for sitting with me.”

you flashed him a smile. “anytime, bill.”

as you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back. he was still sitting there, turning the apple over in his hands with a small, thoughtful smile on his face. for the first time in a long time, he didn’t look quite so alone.

[longshotlois]

Baby Boone - Tyler Owens x Reader

Boone's Sister!Reader X Tyler Owens Summary: College drop-out and lost in life, you’re not sure what’s next. That is until your older brother Boone invites you to join his storm-chasing crew for the summer. You'd expected to see storms, of course, but what you didn't count on was crushing on his infuriatingly attractive, definitely out-of-bounds best friend, Tyler Owens. A/N: Hey everyone! This is one of the first creative pieces I've written for my enjoyment in a long while, and it has made me fall back in love with writing. I am so so so excited to share it with you all. I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a like, comment, or send a message—your feedback means a lot. Thanks for reading! W.C: 5.4k

Baby Boone - Part One

You sat quietly in the back seat of Tyler's truck, watching crop fields and weathered barns flicker past the window, blurring together like a box of crayons left out in the sun too long. It was early April, and the air was becoming humid as Tornado season rapidly approached, leaving your skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that made everything feel sticky and hot.

You exhaled deeply, the cool metal of your laptop rested across your exposed knees running a weather program Lily had downloaded for you that tracked wind shear anomalies across America. Their whole operation was very technical you'd come to discover, despite their hillbilly cowboy personas they ever so slightly leaned into for the camera’s.

Just a week and a half ago, you’d been sitting with the very same laptop open on your dorm room bed, staring blankly at a withdrawal form that confirmed you were no longer enrolled in your classes. Not an easy decision to make three years deep into a degree. Nevertheless, chasing dangerous tornados with your brother seemed more appealing than facing the disappointment etched into your parent's faces. And so now you were spending your days staring at synoptic charts, and your nights drinking lukewarm beers and crashing in rundown motels.

“And we’re live!” Boone, your brother, announced enthusiastically. Lifting up the camera to capture Tyler as he drove. “Say hi to the stream, T!” Your brother really was his biggest fan and best friend rolled into one. More than once you’d joked that Boone could give Tyler’s fangirls a run for their money.

You tried to focus on the data, scanning for anything unusual like Lily had shown you when she'd first downloaded the program for you. A little overwhelmed, you fixated on the wind speed, noting how quickly it had spiked as you approached the cell they'd been tracking the majority of the afternoon.

You swallowed, grappling with the sharp turn your life had taken —swapping frat parties and 9 a.m. lectures for storm chasing and pre-dawn wake-up calls. You had no idea what you were doing, or what was next. But maybe that was the exciting part. Restlessly, your fingers tapped on the edge of the laptop, fidgeting to try and calm your nerves.

"And today, we're joined by the gorgeous Lily," Boone's voice caught your attention as he angled the camera between the seats to catch her wave, "And our special guest. A first-time chaser, and my baby sister-"

"Baby Boone!" Lily interjected with a laugh, using the silly nickname she'd christened you with a few days ago when you first met. Leaning into the frame and smiling wildly, her face inches from yours.

Lily was probably the most easy-going person you'd ever met, both unbelievably friendly and fiercely loyal, exactly the kind of person you'd want to have in your corner. Unless you were on the receiving end of her teasing.

Your cheeks warmed as you looked up, wiping the back of your hand across your forehead, and meeting her gaze with a raised brow, as if to say really?

She'd taken to calling you that the second she met you, gushing over your small frame and your dark, unruly hair, which was almost identical to Boone's, only longer. There was no denying you were siblings. And so 'Baby Boone' had been born.

As expected, protesting her remark only made Lily's grin impossibly wider, "Oh, come on. It suits you!" she jested, lightly slapping your arm and staring back at you with a smirk.

Boone snorted at her retort, shifting the camera to focus more on you, "Say hi to the stream, Baby Boone." He teased putting emphasis on the nickname, the light from his phone reflecting his amused expression. You'd spent enough time with your brother to know he was relishing every second of teasing you on camera.

Offering up a sheepish wave to the audience, you eyed Boone with a facetious scowl on your face and extended your middle finger to him sarcastically. The livestream’s chat exploded with messages, and though you couldn't see them, Boones' laughter made it clear they were loving the sibling rivalry.

"What, she the team mascot now?" Tyler smirked from the front seat, eyes still focused on the road but not missing an opportunity to join in on the teasing. “Maybe Baby Boone can get her face on a t-shirt if she's lucky.” He winked playfully as your cheeks warmed once more.

His teasing made your stomach somersault, something about his ruggedness paired with his dazzling smile had the hairs on your neck pricking up, unconsciously praying for his attention. Though you'd never admit that aloud, to yourself or to anyone. Especially not Boone.

“Can we not make this a thing?” you protested, half-laughing, half-groaning.

“Too late,” Boone retorted, sticking his tongue out for effect. “The chat loves it. Look, someone just said, ‘We stan Baby Boone.’” He nodded towards his phone screen, which displayed all the incoming messages from viewers.

“That’s not even—” you stopped mid-sentence, catching Tyler’s smirk in the rearview mirror. “Wait, are you all in on this?” You glanced between the three of them urgently, trust Boone to put them up to this.

“Define ‘in,’” Tyler replied, his tone casual. Holding your gaze for a second in the rearview mirror.

“You’re all the worst,” you huffed, but your tone lacked heat. Lily’s laugh was contagious, and even Boone’s teasing couldn’t ruin the laughter escaping you. For now, the approaching storm outside seemed a little less intimidating than before, the tension broken by everyone’s laughter.

"Baby Boone. Hilarious." you muttered shaking your head, your smile tight as you glanced down at the laptop, hoping to steer the focus away from the nickname. It wasn’t that you minded the teasing—it was just… well, you were trying to distance yourself from being just Boone’s little sister. A subtle sigh escaped as you silently hoped they’d let you slip back into the background for a bit.

When Boone twisted away from you, your shoulders slumped slightly, and you let your gaze return to the screen, the numbers blurring together as you tried to focus. Your brother might thrive on chaos, but you were still figuring out how to stay calm in it. This adrenaline rush was new and exciting—but also terrifying, especially for a first-time chaser.

As the laughter faded and the camera shifted back to Tyler and the chase, something in the air seemed to change—like the calm before the storm. The wind speeds were dropping, and you felt very out of your depth, a sense of unease crept up your spine and settled in your tensed muscles.

Through narrowed eyes, you watched your laptop, mentally taking note of the way the colours danced across the screen, a deep red shape forming right where you were headed. The data at the side was going crazy, flickering between the windspeed and the rotational motion in the atmosphere. All factors that Lily had explained in far less academic terms to you last week.

"Uh, Lily?" you said, nudging her. "The wind speeds are dropping. Like, a lot." Even you knew that wasn’t right.

She leaned over, frowning as she scanned the data. "That's... strange." Her voice trailed off, eyes flicking between the screen and the horizon.

You followed her gaze, searching for signs of trouble as if you had the first clue of what to look out for. The clouds gathered together quickly, but nothing seemed to scream danger yet - maybe a light drizzle of rain if you squinted hard enough. Still, the unease in Lily's expression made your pulse quicken.

Lily’s fingers flew across her tablet, brows furrowed and frown deepening. “The data isn’t lining up.”

Your head swivelled in her direction, eyes squinting at her screen, trying to see what she was seeing. “What does that mean?” you asked apprehensively. As much as you had no clue about storms or the technical stuff your brother got up to, even you could work out that didn't sound good. Just typical this would happen the first time you chase with them, maybe you were just a bad luck charm.

“Means the storm’s shifting course,” she muttered, not looking away from the tablet. Her voice was calm and focused as if this was just another day at the office. But then again, it probably was for her. “And we’re headed right towards it.”

Boone leaned forward and thumped his hand against the dash, "Hell yeah!" His grin widened in a way that made you want to scream, like being in the path of a fucking tornado was the best thing he'd heard all week. Then again, knowing Boone it probably was.

Timidly, you dared to ask what you'd been wondering, "How far away is it?" You wanted to be prepared for things getting chaotic, you'd watched enough of their streams to know how quickly things could ramp up. It was quite literally a matter of life and death sometimes.

“Eh, five minutes,” Tyler said thoughtfully his tone matter-of-fact and cool as always. Unbothered by Lily's updates, as if he already knew what was happening based on sheer experience. You noted how his knuckles tightened their grip on the steering wheel. “Give or take a few minutes.”

You looked up at his face, noticing the subtle shift in his demeanour, but he still seemed unbothered and focused. You, on the other hand, felt your chest tighten, the anxiety creeping in despite your trust in their judgment. The numbers on your screen climbed higher and higher, and your stomach churned in response. From the scale you had to compare the data to, you were only looking at an EF1, which was nothing compared to the storms you knew they'd chased before. That and Tyler's warm calmness stilled your nerves.

“Shouldn’t we turn around?” you asked, your voice betraying the unease you were trying to hide. You hated how scared you sounded, especially in front of Boone, Tyler, and the hundreds of viewers watching. "I mean... If we're in its path?" You looked to Tyler for guidance, something about him settled any and all fears just with one look.

Tyler hesitated, glancing at Boone before answering, “Well. If we turn now, we'll miss it completely Baby B.”

“And if we don’t?” you pressed, carried away with the thoughts that were plaguing your mind. Though Tyler never answered, too focused on driving them as close as possible. You could feel your heart beginning to thump in your chest, looking between the three of them for an answer.

Lily shot you a look, her jaw tightening “We’re not missing it." she said, eyes soft with sympathy at your tone, "We’re in its path.”

As if to punctuate her words, the sky darkened, and a sudden roar of wind engulfed the truck. The first drops of rain splattered against the windshield, quickly turning into a torrential downpour. Your hands instinctively went to your seatbelt, pulling it tighter as if it would do anything to protect you against the worst.

"In its path?" you repeated, looking at Lily like a deer caught in headlights. "You're joking, right? This is some kind of initiation thing?" you pushed yourself back into your seat, hoping it would somehow make you less on edge. Any rationalities about it being an EF1 were out the window now you learned you were going to drive into this thing.

"Relax," Boone reassured, "We're equipped to deal with this remember?" His hand pulled lazily at the harnesses built into the seats, jangling it a little to jog your memory.

Despite your brother's reassurance and Tyler and Lily's supportive nods, you couldn't help but assume the worst, perhaps you were being dramatic by picturing the windows shattering and one of you being sucked from the vehicle, but you were inexperienced and nervous as hell so you couldn't control it. As if the forming storm could read your thoughts, the hail kicked in, battering the truck with heavy pelts that echoed in your ears.

You clung to your seatbelt, wide-eyed and watching in horror as Tyler manoeuvred closer to what you could now see was a thin dark funnel forming in the sky. You swallowed hoarsely, nervously waiting for the worst to happen, for the winds to snatch the truck up and send you all spiralling into oblivion. That would be just your luck right there.

"Boone," You said voice tight and apprehensive. Though he was too absorbed in filming to offer you full reassurance, he glanced back over his shoulder a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, as if to silently tell you everything would be fine. You knew it would be, but you couldn't stop that worst-case scenario thinking that was bouncing around your skull like a pingpong ball.

The truck rocked as wind and hail lashed against it. The laptop highlighted the rising wind speed, which had now climbed past 100mph setting off a tight wave of unease in your chest. You were preparing for the worst, feeling the adrenaline which rushed through your veins. Some life experience this was - Boone getting you killed before your parents could for agreeing to tag along with your wayward brother in the first place.

The truck shuddered again, the wind rattling against its frame like it was a tin can, threatening to overturn the vehicle at any moment. Your hand clutched into a fist, nails digging into your palm leaving little crescent moon-shaped indents in your skin. Trying anything to take your mind off the unsavoury thoughts that rattled around it.

You could see Boone twisting round every few moments, eyes gazing back at you just to check you were still breathing - he knew what you could be like under stress. Though you didn't dare meet his eyes. You didn't want to appear frightened, even if you were, because you knew how over-protective he could be when it came to you. And you certainly didn't want Lily or Tyler to see that side of him, you'd never hear the end of it.

"Harnesses on people," Tyler instructed calmly, the truck coming to a stop. The rain and hail was still pounding down but Tyler didn't seem worried, which eased the knot in your stomach - he was a professional tornado wrangler after all.

Reaching over your shoulder you grasped the fabric of the straps, fumbling slightly to pull your arms through, just how Boone had shown you earlier. Stealing a glance at your brother, you watched as he adjusted his own like it was second nature to him. Lily too had pulled her's on with ease, returning to her tablet a second later. You felt your heart racing as you fought to untwist it.

Your hands trembled slightly as you struggled to snap the harness into place, acutely aware of the way Boone was staring. "I got it." you muttered, more to yourself than to your brother. Despite failing the first time to get it to click together, you repositioned to try again. But before you could, Boone had already reached over to connect the straps together, a resounding click echoing through the truck as he did.

"You're good." he said, shooting you a quick wink and turning back around.

You could feel your cheeks flush with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Boone—it was just that you didn’t want him to do it at all. Your heart thudded harder in your chest, but it wasn’t from the storm. It was the way he always stepped in to protect you, like you were still a kid. His hands were steady, but you couldn’t decide if it was comforting or patronizing. You knew he wasn’t trying to undermine you, but sometimes it felt like he still saw you as the little girl who used to sneak into his room at night after a bad dream.

Despite the heat rising in your cheeks, your attention was pulled back to the storm. The sharp scent of rain hit your senses, a reminder of where you were—right in the path of a tornado. You felt like a sitting duck, watching as the dark funnel began to form more clearly ahead.

"Hang on tight ladies and gentlemen," Tyler called eagerly as he pressed a button on the console of the truck. A low whirring sound vibrated throughout the truck as the anchors penetrated the dirt underneath you, grounding you all in place. You prayed they would hold. "She's getting close!"

You almost forgot about the livestream, glancing up at the camera mounted on the dashboard filming the approaching storm, too busy fearing for your life. But now you were beginning to understand why they did this, the adrenaline rush was like nothing you'd felt before. No wonder Boone never looked back after first chasing with Tyler nearly four years ago.

"Goddamn..." Your mouth fell open, staring through the windscreen at the sight in front of you, forgetting any frustration or embarrassment you'd felt two minutes prior. You felt yourself beginning to smile leaning forward as much as you could to get a better view between the headrests, encouraged by Boone and Tyler who glanced back at you, both laden with excitement as they watched your reaction.

"Hell yeah, baby!" Boone whooped, encouraging Tyler and Lily to cheer as the tornado began to head in the truck's direction. You took a deep breath, watching in amazement as it began to twist closer to the truck.

The dirt in its path began to sweep up into the air, scattering across the trucks windshield and frame with tiny pitter patters that could barely be heard over the winds howling. It was mesmerising, unlike anything you'd ever seen before. The debris acting like tiny puppets on a string orchestrated by the tornado, guiding them up into the air and swirling like dancers fluttering through the sky.

"Holy fuckin' shit." You murmured in awe, barely aware of the laughter bubbling up from the rest of them. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen, and as the tornado began to engulf the truck, the thrill of it shot through your veins. The deafening roar of the winds rattled the truck, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the glass, from the dance.

You stared through the window, the swirling grey mist swallowing everything just meters away. Every instinct screamed to get out and start running but you knew better than that, and so you stayed firmly pressed to your seat observing in awe. Your harness was tight against your chest, and you were grateful you still wore your seatbelt as you were certain without them you would've collapsed then and there from the excitement.

The silence that followed the first roar was almost deafening. You could make out the others' voices but they faded into background noise as you scanned the ground outside. The truck was shaking violently, the winds roaring like a freight train. Every gust rocked the truck testing its limits, and you could feel your heart pounding - but this time it wasn't out of fear.

The gusts of winds got stronger and stronger as the tornado fully enclosed the truck, blocking out all views of the outside world. You were painfully aware of your hammering heartbeat that throbbed against your chest, pounding in your ears as Boone whooped and began pointing his POV camera at Tyler for the stream.

“Hold on!” Tyler yelled over the chaos, using the steering wheel as a brace to pull himself forward, looking up at the sky through the windshield, staring up the large funnel trying to see the inner workings of the tornado. The ground was still vibrating beneath you, jostling the truck even with the anchors drilled deep into the earth. Every second felt like an eternity.

The adrenaline coursing through your veins kept you rooted in the moment, but a part of you couldn’t shake the nagging thought that this was actually real. Not many people could claim they’d been inside of a tornado, especially not that they'd escaped both unharmed and unscathed.

Suddenly, there was a loud crack from above, and a surge of pressure hit the truck. You instinctively pulled tighter on your seatbelt, bracing for impact, but nothing came. The roar of the wind lessened, the truck’s shaking started to subside, and the storm’s intensity began to fade. You dared to glance out the window again, your chest tight as you processed the change.

Maybe the tornado was passing, you thought. It was moving off to the side, leaving only small bits of swirling debris in its wake. A stark contrast to the howling winds that had engulfed you a few minutes before, covering the trucks windshield in dirt and grass and god knows what else.

Tyler let out a breath, relaxing his grip on the wheel as the truck settled, though the storm still raged around you as it died out. He turned back to face you, a grin breaking across his face. “Well, that was somethin',” he said, his voice light, but you could tell he was still buzzing from the experience.

You nodded timidly, and glanced outside again. It was silent for a moment, with only the sounds of your pounding heart in your ears for comfort. You'd never felt so alive.

Eventually, the pounding in your ears let up, beginning to slow until you weren’t aware of it anymore. You looked to Tyler, who was preparing to lift the anchor’s, his jaw set in a way that made your chest tighten.

"You okay?" he asked, watching you in the rearview mirror. His voice was low and sincere. For a moment, the rest of the world seemed to blur out, and all that mattered was the weight of his gaze on you.

Nodding quickly, you felt a flutter in your stomach. “Yeah... its just, wow." You sounded both impressed and relieved, still coming to terms with the adrenaline rush that came with chasing.

Tyler smiled knowing exactly how you were feeling, his eyes not leaving yours. “You did good." he said, voice soft and filled with praise, "Could tell you were a little nervous, but you pulled through.”

You caught a grin of your own forming, the heat on your cheeks now more from his compliment than the storm. “Thanks. I didn’t expect it to feel... like that. It’s different when you’re in it.”

He nodded, his expression understanding. "Yeah, s’crazy isn’t it?" His tone dropped to a thoughtful hum, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment when his focus shifted away from you.

Boone's voice broke the quiet, pulling you out of your thoughts. Turning to the camera that was still rolling. “What a rush, huh, guys?” he laughed shaking his head in disbelief, scanning the comments for anything noteworthy. “We just survived the beast!”

You chuckled at his words while he and Tyler spoke to the camera, his enthusiasm for his job evident both in his voice and on his face. Your smile only getting bigger as Dexter and Dani’s voices came through on the radio checking everyone was safe.

Beside you, Lily was typing frantically into her tablet, checking the storm’s trajectory, and scanning over the data with a laser focus. “I think we’re in the clear… for today,” she said, though her words were cautious.

You exhaled deeply, still unable to fully grasp what had just happened. It was hardly something just anyone got to experience, and especially not at close range. Any other tornado you'd seen had been from the safety of a storm shelter, watching news reports and videos all over social media. But this was different. This was up close and personal with Mother Nature, basking in the wonderful and deadly conjuring of her fury and temper. Even when you closed your eyes, you could still see the dark funnel twisting and billowing towards the truck effortlessly, a testimony to one of the many magical things humanity still couldn't answer.

Boone was practically bouncing in his seat, grinning ear to ear. His excitement vibrated against the truck walls, so overwhelming it could make up for your own exhaustion. “That was the thrill of a lifetime!” he said, reaching around to punch your shoulder, enticing you to indulge him even for a moment. “And you were in the heart of it, Baby Boone! You didn’t just survive a storm—you chased it!”

You felt a smile tug at the corner of your lips despite the overwhelming anxiety that still clung to you. It felt pretty special to be able to share an experience like that with your brother, with no school or work really to tie you down, the freedom of it all was addicting. Spreading warmth through your chest all the way to your fingertips, like you were floating on cloud nine.

“Yeah… and I think I’m done for the day,” you sighed, laughing a little as the adrenaline seeped out of you. Chest decompressing like a large weight had just been lifted from it.

Lily chuckled softly, glancing over. “Fair enough. The first one's always a lot, you get used to it,” she offered with a shrug, her fingers still moving over her tablet. “Let’s head back to the motel. I think we’ve all earned a break.”

With that, Tyler started easing the truck away, heading back onto the same road you had driven down earlier. The rain continued to pour, and the air still felt heavy, but it was nothing like it had been before. The tension that had been bustling in the air had dissipated, leaving behind an eerie calmness that settled into the evening sky. Just as the light had begun to diminish, your energy had too, sucked away by all the excitement of the day. Yet, you couldn't help but keep your eyes trained on the rearview mirror, hoping Tyler would meet your gaze again.

"The chat loves you," Boone chuckled while scrolling through comments. "Baby Boone has her own fan base already." His proud smile earned a laugh from Tyler. You only chewed your lip shyly, a little unsure of how to react. You knew how popular they were, with over a million subscribers on YouTube and just as many - if not more - on their social media.

You'd long ago learned to private your own accounts, as often fans would flood to relatives to sniff out private photos, your parents had to restrict their Facebook accounts as so many people had worked out their relation to Boone and, by extension, Tyler. And Tyler was a big deal to the fans, even if he was humble enough not to flaunt it so obviously. You understood it to a degree. Tyler was attractive, kind, and looked fucking amazing in a cowboy hat - what wasn't there to like?

"Maybe next time you can ride shotgun?" Tyler smirked, as if he could read your thoughts, catching your gaze briefly in the mirror, his emerald ones bore into yours for no longer than a tantalising second before he looked away. "It'd be rude to deny the people," he added, and your heart skipped a beat.

The thought of sitting up front with Tyler terrified you, being in the backseat was nerve-wracking enough never mind being sat next to someone who made you a flustered mess with just one look. But the way his eyes had lingered on you made you wonder if he was just teasing, or if he really meant it. You couldn't say you weren't debating it now, sitting up front with him, watching him completely in his element - it made you shiver.

Boone, oblivious to your thoughts, pouted down into the camera. "You guys would miss ol' Boone in shotgun, right?" he asked the stream, doing his best impression of puppy dog eyes as he scanned the comments. Clearly, he was taken aback by Tyler's words, perhaps even as much as you were.

Lily sucked air in through her teeth, tilting her phone towards Boone "Not so sure about that one, Boonie."

You ignored the nickname with all the strength you could muster, though you made a mental note to tease him about it later. It had always been clear to you Boone had fancied Lily, and the little deviation from his usual name was definitely coming from a place of endearment.

Watching Boone glance down at her phone you noticed the wry smile that tugged on his lips, the way his eyes shone with reluctant acceptance. Curious about what the fans were saying, you craned your neck to try and see her screen, eyes narrowing as you tried to make out the messages which were beginning to flood the screen, the majority of them repeating: 'We need a Baby Boone cam'.

"Looks like you're putting me outta job, sis," Boone sighed playfully, shaking his head dramatically as if he had suffered some tragic fate, "Must run in the family. You're a natural, just like your big bro."

You knew he was only joking, but you couldn't help but feel guilty. You been chasing with them once and already were imposing far more than you'd ever intended to, but you knew if you said that to him, he would've only told you to shut up and take the camera. So you laughed instead, rolling your eyes at the way he stared off into the distance as if mourning his imaginary demotion from being Tyler's right-hand man.

A sly grin spread across your face, the tension from earlier melted away entirely. “It’s okay, Boone,” you teased, patting his arm with mock sympathy, doing your best to turn it into a joke because he would at least appreciate that. “Maybe you can run my fan club.”

“All hail Boone. President of the Baby Boone Fan Club.” Lily quipped, instantly latching on to your teasing, her grin just as mischievous as yours. Oh yeah, she was in deep for him too, you just knew it.

Tyler snorted as he clapped Boone on the shoulder, adding fuel to the fire. “Don’t worry, Boone. You’ll always be my buddy, but I say Baby Boone's upfront with me tomorrow" He grinned

Boone groaned theatrically, but his exaggerated reaction only made everyone else laugh harder. You tried to hide the smile creeping onto your face at Tyler’s comment, but the flutter in your chest betrayed you.

"That's if you want to be?" Tyler asked after a beat, turning around to look at you hopefully. You felt yourself crumbling the second his gaze met yours, the smirk playing on his lips doing things to you that couldn't even be worded. That look would be the death of you one day, you were sure of it.

"I mean.." You bit your lip thoughtfully, trying not to get lost in Tyler's gaze. "If it's what the fans want. Who am I to say no?" you finished with a shrug. Trying to play it off as coolly as you could, as if your inner voice wasn't screaming at you to agree.

Tyler's smirk turned into one of his signature grins, his white teeth flashing as he nodded enthusiastically. You smiled back at him, letting the chuckle fall from your lips a nervous one at first, that spread into laughter as you agreed again, "Baby Boone in shotgun it is."

Your brother shot you a playful glare as he climbed out of the truck. “You’re lucky you’re family,” he muttered, though the grin tugging at his lips revealed a lack of any real annoyance.

"Love you Boonie" you murmured so that Lily didn't hear, catching his gaze mischievously when his eyes widened and his cheeks turned pink. You chucked when he stuck a finger up at you through the window of the truck, pulling the passenger door open for you to climb out.

You climbed out and stepped forward a few paces, lingering beside the truck and glancing back in the direction of the dissipated storm. The tornado's roar had long faded, but you would remember that first chase for the rest of your life, the adrenaline coursing through you, the nerves, the excitement. You were so lost in thought that when Tyler appeared at your side carrying some of the data collection equipment you didn't even notice him till he spoke.

"You planning on helping me here or just standing there lookin' pretty Baby B?"

You spluttered a little at his words, choking on nothing but air as your hand came to rub the back of your neck awkwardly.

"Oh, right. Sorry," you stammered, "Coming..."

As you hurried to grab some equipment, you couldn't help but glance at Tyler again, his easy smile lighting up the quiet, post-storm evening. It felt like the calm after the chaos in more ways than one. Tomorrow, another storm would come—but for now, you let yourself enjoy the warmth of the moment, preparing for tomorrow.

. ゜⋆゜⚕️ ⋆゜ ゜⋆゜⚕️ ⋆゜ ゜⋆゜⚕️ ⋆゜ ゜⋆゜⚕️ ⋆゜ ゜⋆゜⚕️ ⋆゜゜.

Part Two coming soon👀

[12woso12]

Angry woman

Part 3

Part 2 here

TW: Some tough topics, look after yourselves

The greatest show

It had only been a few days since the first training session with Arsenal, and the weight of the transition was still settling on your shoulders. Every minute felt like a negotiation between your past and your future—like you were caught between two worlds, neither of which felt fully like home.

But tonight was different.

Alessia had insisted that you join her and a couple of other teammates for a casual movie night. She’d been nudging you about it for days, telling you how it’d be a “fun way to get to know the girls,” and how “they’re way cooler than you think.” At first, you’d hesitated. After all, you were still adjusting to everything, still felt like the new kid. But Alessia had a way of making you feel like you were part of something bigger, something you hadn’t quite figured out yet, and she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

You walked into Alessia's apartment, palms sweating and beyond ready to run in the other direction, feeling that familiar sense of anticipation and uncertainty—like showing up to a first day of school. The girls were already there, sprawled out on the couch, the kitchen counter littered with popcorn, snacks, and takeout containers.

Victoria Pelova, or Vic as Alessia called her, was sprawled on the floor with a blanket thrown over her, sipping something from a glass with a knowing grin. She had a sly, mischievous air about her that reminded you a little of Alessia—playful but sharp. Then there was Kyra Cooney-Cross, sitting next to Vic, fiddling with her phone while her feet bounced to some rhythm only she could hear. Kyra was your age, and the second Alessia introduced you to her, you could feel the instant connection. She reminded you a little of Grace Clinton.

“Y/N, you made it!” Alessia grinned as you stepped in, pulling you into a quick hug before gesturing to the others. “Make yourself at home, I'm afraid we're watching The Greatest Showman tonight.”

You rolled your eyes, already knowing Alessia’s taste in movies. It wasn’t the first time she’d dragged you into something cheesy, but at this point, you were just happy to be part of the group.

“Just remember, I’m not responsible for any emotional breakdowns if you get too invested in the love story,” Vic teased, her accent thick and playful. She looked at you with a glint in her eye. “Are you prepared to cry?”

Kyra shot you a grin. “Oh, trust me, the real question is how many tissues you’ll go through. Vic cried the last time we watched this—what was it, the third time in a row?”

“Hey,” Vic said, raising her hand in mock defense. “That was a moment. A deep emotional experience.”

Kyra snorted. “It’s okay, Vic. We won’t judge you for being a big softie.”

You felt a grin tug at the corner of your mouth. The playful, easy camaraderie between them was infectious, and suddenly, the weight of everything else didn’t seem so heavy.

As the movie started, you sunk into the oversized beanbag chair that Alessia had pulled out for you. The smell of popcorn filled the room, and for the first time in a while, you felt like you could breathe.

Suddenly, you found yourself laughing along with the others. Kyra’s laugh was loud and uninhibited, the kind of laugh that made you want to laugh just because it was so infectious. Vic, on the other hand, was effortlessly witty, tossing in sarcastic remarks that only added to the fun.

“You’re really quiet,” Kyra said, nudging you with her elbow halfway through the movie. Her eyes were twinkling with curiosity, like she was trying to figure you out. “I thought you were suppose to be loud and angry...according to the BBC"

You chuckled lightly, not sure how to respond. After a second, you brush it off. You were fine just a little overwhelmed but it was nothing you couldn't handle.

“I'm just relaxing” you said quietly, smiling at no one in particular. “I need to get myself one of these beanbag chairs Less. I could fall asleep"

Kyra raised an eyebrow. “"Y/N, you’re basically living the dream. You just made a huge move from United to Arsenal. You’re practically a football god in this city. Ask the club to get you a damn bean bag if you want one, they'll run to your every beck and call”

You smirked but shook your head. “I'm not as important as everyone is making out, trust me"

Vic looked up from the floor, a knowing look in her eyes. “Y/N, no offence but are you always this stupid? You're easily the best player of your generation She paused as Kyra huffed but didn't object. "There's a reason clubs all over the world wanted you."

The words landed differently than you expected, like a quiet affirmation that you belonged here.

Kyra nudged you again, her grin returning. “Yeah, miss big shot. Go march into Renee's office tomorrow and demand a bean bag"

"I think i need to demand for an apartment first" you joked

The laughter that followed was easy, unburdened, and for that moment, you felt your anxiety start to slip away. You hadn’t realised how much you’d needed it—real, unscripted fun with people who genuinely liked you.

The movie had wrapped up a while ago, but no one was in any rush to leave. Instead, the room was alive with chatter, laughter, and more than a little teasing. Kyra and Vic were now in a heated discussion about whether The Greatest Showman could be considered a “true” musical or just an overhyped concert movie. Meanwhile, Alessia was curled up next to you, her eyes gleaming with amusement as she listened in on the banter.

“You know,” Alessia mused, nudging you with her elbow, “this was a good idea. You should hang out with us more often.”

You glanced over at her, smiling. “Yeah, I didn’t expect to have this much fun.”

Kyra raised an eyebrow. “Oh, trust me, we’re just getting started. I’ve got a whole list of movies that’ll make you laugh until you cry.”

Vic piped up from across the room, grinning. “And I’ll make sure to keep the musicals to a minimum. We’ll go more with the horror next time, yeah?”

“No. Absolutely not,” you said, shaking your head.

The night wound down with more jokes, more light-hearted banter, until eventually, Alessia stood up and stretched, giving you a playful nudge. “Alright, newbie. Time to hit the hay. We’ve got training tomorrow, and trust me, we’re gonna work you hard.”

“Bring it on,” you said with a grin, a little more relaxed now. “I can take it.”

After a few more laughs and goodbyes, you left Alessia's apartment. The crisp night air nipped at your skin as you stepped out onto the street, but it didn’t feel as cold anymore. The weight of your thoughts was lighter, the nagging, constant pressure that had followed you for so long now seemed distant—almost forgotten.

As you walked up the stairs to your apartment and unlocked the door, the feeling of lightness began to fade. The moment you stepped inside, everything changed.

The air felt heavier again. The room was quiet, too quiet, and as you placed your bag on the table, you felt the old, familiar weight settle back on your chest. The smile that had lingered on your lips slipped away, replaced by a gnawing emptiness.

You kicked off your shoes and walked over to the window, staring out at the lights of the town. From here, everything looked peaceful. Arsenal was a world of possibilities, of new starts, and yet—here you were, standing in the shadow of everything you’d left behind.

The memories crept in like the cold breeze that fluttered through the window cracks. They didn’t care about your new start, your new team, your new life. They were relentless, reminding you of the darkness that had clung to you for so long.

Manchester United.

David Coben.

The words were like a whisper in the back of your mind, a chill that crawled down your spine. You could almost hear his voice, taunting you, reminding you that no matter where you went, no matter how far you ran, he’d still be there, lurking in the shadows.

The sound of his footsteps echoed in your memory—the way he always found you, the way he made you feel small, like nothing more than a piece of his game. The fear, the anger, the helplessness—it all came rushing back in a tidal wave. You could almost feel the walls of the United locker room closing in on you, the suffocating pressure, the isolation.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push the memories away, but it was like trying to keep the tide from flooding the shore. The darkness had followed you here.

The room felt suddenly cold, too cold, and your hands trembled as you gripped the windowsill. No, you told yourself. You’re not there anymore. You don’t have to carry this.

But no matter how hard you tried, the memories wouldn’t leave. They stuck to you like glue, tugging at your heart, your mind, like a weight that refused to be shaken off.

You didn’t want to feel this way. You wanted to be free.

You wanted to let yourself laugh, to breathe without that constant pressure. You wanted to live in the now, to savor the joy you’d found in Arsenal’s warm welcome, in the laughter of your teammates, in Alessia’s bright smile.

But then you heard the sound of footsteps in your memory again. You saw his face—the smirk that had haunted your dreams—and in that moment, you knew the past wasn’t done with you yet.

For now, you could only stand there, staring out into the town. The lights below seemed so far away, as if they belonged to a different life, a different version of you.

You turned away from the window and walked over to the couch, dropping onto it heavily. The laughter from earlier still echoed faintly in your mind, but now it seemed distant, like a dream you could barely remember.

You wanted to believe that the future, Arsenal, would give you the freedom to be someone else—to be the version of you that was happy, whole, and unbroken. But the memories lingered, lurking in the corners, waiting for you to slip up.

You didn’t know if you could ever escape them, or if you even deserved to.

But for tonight… you could at least pretend. You could close your eyes and imagine a world where the past didn’t exist, a world where the only thing that mattered was the team you were a part of now, the friends you had just started to make, and the future that might one day be within reach.

Tomorrow would come with its own challenges, but for tonight… you let yourself breathe.

You let yourself believe.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: More miscommunication makes the situation between Tommy and Lucy go from bad to worse.

Word Count: 7,074

Warnings: Angst, insecurity, violence, suicidal thoughts, PTSD, nightmares, minor character death, and references to past torture and sexual assault.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 14: Good Intentions

She woke up with a tortured scream, half flying upwards out of bed, kicking and scrambling. The covers got all twisted around her, half pinning her legs, and that only fed the panic coursing through her. It wasn’t until Asher jumped to his feet and shoved his big head into her face that she fully processed where she was and what was happening. 

Breaths heaving, she looked around the room, taking in the familiar furniture and decor. Asher poked at her chest with his cold nose with a small whine. Trouble meowed. 

Drawing in ragged breaths, Lucy closed her eyes, focusing on filling her lungs with air. It was okay. She was alright. She wasn’t in that alley anymore while Matthew and his friends descended upon her. Or dangling from the ceiling while Luca Changretta carved into her. She was safe. 

Nightmares had always been a common occurrence for her. But they’d been getting worse lately. More frequent and somehow even more vivid and frightful than they’d been before. On the rare occasion that she actually did manage to fall asleep in her room at the yard, Charlie often had to come in at some point in the middle of the night to gently shake her awake because she’d started screaming in her sleep. 

Wiping at her forehead, she winced to find that it was drenched with sweat. Giving Asher and Trouble a few pets, she then forced herself up, heading to the washroom to splash some cold water on her face. For a moment, her eyes lingered on the bathtub, swallowing down the lump in her throat at the memories of the last time she’d bathed in it with Tommy. 

She got cleaned up and dressed in a slight daze. Her head felt all fuzzy from both her nightmare and spending a large chunk of the night sobbing into her blankets. The very beginning of a headache was starting to throb at her temples.  

It was so early in the morning that the sun was only just starting to settle up in the sky. So it did not surprise her that she was one of the first people down for breakfast. Asher remained at her side, watchful. Every once in a while, his ears twitched. 

She found Arthur at the window, leaning so close to it that his nose nearly touched the glass. 

“Arthur?” she was still adjusting the cuffs of her shirt while she approached him. Looking around the room, she craned her head to peer through the doorway leading into the dining room. She caught sight of Frances and a couple of maids bustling about in there, working quickly to try to clean up the broken glass before breakfast was to be served. “Where’s Linda?”

Arthur’s shoulders shuddered, a fist rising to his mouth. Lucy watched the reaction sadly. He had not treated Linda well, and she could not entirely blame her for leaving, but it still saddened her to see him so distraught. Tentatively she rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing once in sympathy. 

“Come on. Let’s go get some food,” she tried to encourage, pulling him towards the dining room. 

“No,” Arthur stepped away from her. “I think…I think I’m just going to go.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded.

“Okay,” Lucy gave him a tight hug. He felt very skinny, almost frail, in her arms. “I’ll see you later.”

He shuffled away with only a small murmur of acknowledgement. She watched him go, hands buried in her pockets with a frown painted on her features.  

“Miss. Winters.”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Her jaw tightened at the voice. Asher’s hackles rose slightly, but a hand on the base of his neck had him quieting, though not without a small growl rumbling in his chest first. “Good morning, Mr. Mosley.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Breakfast is being served in the dining room,” she gestured, hoping that he would leave her alone. 

No such luck, it would seem, as he leaned in closer to her, looking around theatrically. “No Mr. Shelby?”

“He’s probably still in bed. It’s quite early.” Though not for Tommy, who was often up at the crack of dawn. But she wasn’t about to tell Mosley that.

“Mm. Interesting, isn’t it? What relentless lengths he has gone to in order to establish his claim over his wife,” Mosley chuckled. That slow smile twisted the bottom half of his face when he looked at her. “And yet, this is the third time in less than a day that he’s left you alone.…” he reached out a hand that she jerked her face away from, an action he seemed to take complete delight in. “Ripe for the picking.”

Bile rose up in the back of her throat. “Mr. Mosley…”

“I’m glad, however. There’s something that I wanted to speak to you about.” He kept trying to crowd into her space, and while Asher sitting between them helped buffer him a little, he was still far too close for her liking. “As I’ve already mentioned to Mr. Shelby, your affair with him…it has the potential to cause issues should it ever come to light.”

Lucy gulped. “We’re being careful…”

“A single woman, employed by a man who she is known throughout Birmingham to have had a relationship with during at least one stretch of time while she was working for him…that has the potential to insight quite the amount of gossip. Don’t you think?”

“If it’s gossip you’re worried about, Mr. Mosley, I suggest that you turn your attention to your own affairs. I’m sure many people would have lots to say about your very close relationship with most of your wife’s female relatives.”

Briefly, the mask of amusement he kept across his face faltered, replaced instead by a flicker of annoyance and something far darker. Beside her, Asher growled again. Lucy tightened her grip on his lead. But Mosley seemed to pay no mind to the dog, taking a step closer to her.

“I have spoken to Thomas, and we have concluded that the best way to handle your particular situation is through two potential avenues. Either you leave his employment, or you find a husband.” That shark-like smile was suddenly back in place. “I already have several potential candidates in mind.”

Lucy felt as though she’d just been punched in the stomach. Her lungs constricted painfully. Her stomach heaved. She had to ball her hands up into fists to hide the slight way that they started to tremor. 

“Tommy agreed to that?” she asked, her voice coming out sounding very small. Mosley’s smile widened. 

“He said that he would consider it.”

The next breath that she managed to draw into her lungs was shaky. Quickly, she looked away, feeling the burn of tears starting to build up in the back of her throat. 

“You have a say, of course. But I think we both know that you’ll do whatever it is that he decides for you.”

Her jaw tightened at the implication. “He knows how I feel about marriage.” Only half true. He knew how she had once felt about marriage. But he did not know that her feelings on the subject had softened with time. At least when it came to the idea of being married to him.

Mr. Mosley tilted his head. “Then…I wish you the best of luck in finding employment in the future. It may be hard, with your reputation for fucking your employer.” His eyes darted over her shoulder into the dining room. “Oh! Would you look at that? Breakfast.” And with a sleazy smile, he stepped around her and walked away, as if he had not just potentially brought what little remained of her world crashing down around her ears. 

Tommy…had agreed to consider getting rid of her. Seemingly without even putting up a fight on her behalf.

Again.

Lucy stood there, staring straight ahead, so shocked and heartbroken that she couldn’t even move. 

Was this not the ultimate confirmation that everything she had been thinking was true? If he was willing to send her away, or push her into marriage with another man, did that not indicate in absolute certainty that he no longer wanted her?

Forget about want. He didn’t even love her anymore.

“Miss. Winters?” It was Frances’s soft voice that drew her out of her trance, finding that the housekeeper had come up right beside her. “Are you staying for breakfast?” She thought that she might’ve detected a trace of hope in Frances’s eyes. 

Lucy stared at her, then looked over her shoulder to where those who had spent the night at the house were beginning to gather to eat. 

“No,” her voice came out weak and hoarse. She had to clear her throat before trying again. “No. Actually, could you have a car and driver brought around for me?”

“Now?” Frances’s voice filled with dismay.  

“Yes.”

“You don’t want to wait for Mr. Shelby–?”

“No. I think it’s better if I just slip away this morning. In fact, tell Mr. Shelby that I’d rather he not bother me for a little while. Unless there’s something urgent that needs to be done for work.”

Frances hesitated. “He’ll want to see you…”

Lucy shot her a sad, understanding smile. It was sweet of her to try to make it sound like Tommy still cared for her. “No, he won’t.” With Frances following her, she went to the entryway, slipping on her coat and pulling on her gloves. “Let him know that Linda’s left Arthur. Maybe this time for good.”

Frances nodded, though her expression was troubled. “Yes, Miss. Winters. Car will be around in a moment.”

“Thank you.” She flexed her fingers back and forth, eager to be out of the house soon. It echoed with too many memories and residual feelings. The paintings watched her when she moved, and she could hear voices in the walls, see ghosts walking in the rooms. All of a past life. A life she once had here. 

A life that was gone. 

It took only a few minutes for the driver to come around with the car. She was gone before Tommy even set foot outside his room. 

∗ ∗ ∗

“Frances, where’s Lucy?” Tommy asked as soon as he’d descended the stairs. He’d gone to her room as soon as he was up and dressed, eager to tell her about the compromise he’d worked out with Lizzie. She could stay here. At home. With him. And he would make sure that she never felt like she needed to leave ever again.

But she hadn’t been in her room. So he’d headed downstairs, assuming that she’d already gone down for breakfast. 

Frances looked away, shifting from foot to foot. “She left, sir.”

He froze. “She what?”

“She was up early this morning. She spoke with Arthur and Mr. Mosley, and then she requested a car and driver to take her back to Mr. Strong’s.” She fumbled with her hands. “I tried to stop her, but…she was insistent.”

Tommy blinked, processing. “Did she say anything before she left?”

Again, Frances hesitated. “She said…to tell you that Linda has left Arthur. Maybe this time for good. And…” she paused, biting her lip. Tommy raised an eyebrow.

“Yes?”

“She said that she doesn’t want to be bothered. Not unless it’s something urgent related to work. At least for a little while.”

Tommy stared at her, not fully understanding. 

What did I do wrong now?

He was more than aware that last night could have gone better on a whole array of accounts, but he didn’t think that he’d done anything that terrible to cause her to want nothing to do with him at all. 

“Did…did she say why?”

“I’m afraid not, sir.” Frances’s eyes were sympathetic.

He sighed heavily, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking out the window. “Alright, thank you.”

“Mr. Mosley was just getting ready to leave.”

“Right.”

He went with her to the entryway to say his goodbyes, and watched from the window as Mosley got into his car and finally drove away. Relief washed over him potently, a little of the tension going out in his shoulders.

Even after Mosley was long gone, he stayed standing there, frowning as he gazed out towards the road that led up to the front of the house.

Why was she so earnestly running away from him? Was that what she wanted? Space between them? Separation? His chest burned agonizingly at the thought. 

He was aware of Frances hovering by the door, watching over him with worry in her eyes. Tommy pinched at his brow. God, it wasn’t even nine o’clock in the morning and he already needed a fucking whisky.

“Where’s Arthur?”

“He left not long before Miss. Winters did.” 

For fuck’s sake, could people please just stay in place for once? What was with everyone scattering all of a sudden?

“Alright, thank you, Frances.”

She nodded, but paused before heading to the door like she usually did. “I’m sorry, sir.”

He gave her a shake of his head, not needing to ask what she was referring to. “Don’t have anyone to blame but myself.” Looking back out of the window, he thumbed at his brow, wetting his lips and drawing in a shaky breath. 

He could get into the car and go to her. Find her amongst the horses in the stables at the yard and tell her that he’d done it. He’d fixed things, like he promised. She could come back home, with no worry over breaking Lizzie’s rules or inciting conflicts. Things could go back to the way that they were. 

But he hesitated. She was upset with him. As she had every right to be, about all sorts of things. And she clearly didn’t want to be around him. As evidenced by her asking Frances to tell him to leave her alone. 

He would respect her wishes, he decided. Even though it killed him a little to not immediately seize the opportunity to bring her back home. The last thing he wanted to do was further upset her by stomping on her boundaries. And she couldn’t avoid him forever. They would have to interact for work eventually. He’d tell her about it then. 

And, perhaps, he was a little frustrated with her. She kept pulling away from him. Every time that he tried to reach out, without fail. A switch had turned within her since he told her of the deal he’d struck with Lizzie. He’d been locked out of her mind, with no combination to get back in. And it was driving him mad not knowing what she was thinking. Each time that she rejected him, it hurt a little more. He didn’t know how much more of it he could take.   

Would getting her exempted from Lizzie’s rules be enough, or had he already so irrevocably broken things that they could no longer be fixed?

∗ ∗ ∗

“I can’t believe him,” she whispered, sitting with her knees tucked beneath her, a cup of tea held in one hand. 

“It might not be exactly what you think it is,” Charlie tried to reassure her gently. Lucy sighed. 

“Yeah, maybe.” But her tone was not convinced.

“You’re really going to trust anything that comes out of that fascist prick’s mouth?” He shook his head. “Talk to Tom first, before you start getting too upset about it. I sincerely doubt that he’d ever even consider sacking you. Or marrying you off to someone else.”

“He did it to John,” she pointed out. 

“That was different.”

“Was it?”

Charlie cast her a baffled look. “Of course it was. He loves you. He’d rather saw off a limb than let someone else marry you.”

Setting down her mug on the table between them, she stood, walking forward a few paces with her hands jammed into her pockets to stare out over the canal. She could feel Charlie still watching her from his seat. 

“Why? It’s not like he’s ever going to marry me.” She couldn’t help the slight way that her voice caught on the words.

“Do you ever regret not marrying him when you had the chance?” Charlie asked. Lucy sighed. It certainly would have solved a whole hell of a lot of their problems. If she’d just managed to get over herself and do it.

No point thinking about any of it now. It wasn’t like she would ever get the chance, anyway. 

“Yes,” she answered in a soft whisper.

“You should tell him that.”

The wind pulled a little on her hair, stinging where it whipped across her cheeks. “It wouldn’t do anyone any good.”

“You don’t know that.”

Looking back out over the canal, at its tempting rushing waters, she felt herself slip, then drop a little further down into the well of despair she was already lost deep, deep within. 

“Yes, I do.”

∗ ∗ ∗

Lucy was only half paying attention to the conversation between Tommy and Ben, too busy working tirelessly over finishing up reports from her spot seated at the round table in the middle of Tommy’s office. 

The days following the ballet had been rough. Arthur was an absolute mess after Linda left, and Michael was clearly still up to something, though she’d had limited time or ability to figure out what exactly that was. Tommy had respected her request that he leave her alone for a while. This was the first time they’d seen each other since the party. When she’d come in, he and Ben were already talking, so she’d just sat down and started in on her work. 

“Younger,” Tommy called as the man stood to leave. “Please don’t listen to my sister’s opinions of me. They are always hopeful. Therefore they are always wrong.”

She shot a smile to Ben when he passed her on his way out the door, the door closing heavily behind him. Tommy stood from his chair, cigarette in hand.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to come in today,” he commented after a moment. She glanced up briefly from her stack of papers, then looked back down again, unsure what to even say to him.

His shoes thumped against the floor as he made his way over to glance out the window. He turned back to look at her. Coughed and glanced down at his shoes. “I miss you.”

She looked back up at him, frowning. “What do you mean? I’m right here.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Tommy…” she leaned back in her chair, pressing her fingers to her temple in an attempt to stave off an oncoming headache. “I…” she looked away at the bookshelves in the corner. She sucked in a deep breath, reminding herself to be strong. “We can’t.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“It’s better this way.”

“Better for who?”

“Oh, I don’t know, how about your fucking wife, Tommy? Your kids, who don’t have to live in a house where their parents are having screaming matches every night!?” she stood up from the table, striding towards him, suddenly furious. 

“So what? We’re not allowed to be happy? We have to spend the rest of our lives being miserable?” Tommy argued back, voice raising.

“Yeah, well you seem to be doing just fine to me,” she spat out bitterly.

“What the fuck does that mean!?”

“Nothing,” her voice softened as she turned away sharply.

“Hey!” He grabbed her by the arm, not hard enough to hurt but firm enough to hold her in place and force her to remain facing him. “You’re the one who left!”

“And you’re the one who made that deal with Lizzie in the first place without even thinking of me!”  

“Which I fucking fixed! Which you would know about, if you would stop dodging all my attempts to talk to you.”

She froze, brows pulling together. “What do you mean, you fixed it?”

Tommy drew in a ragged breath, voice lowering from the raised pitch it had been in a moment ago. “I worked out a compromise with her. The new rules still apply to anyone else, but not to you.” He reached out to touch her cheek, but she pulled her face away, searching his eyes, not even sure what exactly she was looking for. He sighed and dropped his hand. “You can come back home. Things can go back to the way that they were.”

She could have sworn that she saw a hopeful spark in those big blue orbs, but chalked it up to just wishful thinking. 

A part of her wanted to fall into his arms, let him whisk her away and back to Arrow House so they could return to carrying on like they had. But the rest of her, the part now in control, recoiled at the thought. 

“No,” she whispered, still staring at him, her lips parted and brows drawing inwards. Tommy jerked back as if she’d slapped him, eyes widening with such deep hurt she wondered if it would have wounded him less had she actually cut him.

“What? Why? The rules don’t apply to you anymore, love. We don’t have to worry about sleeping together under that roof, or any of that nonsense about me not being able to touch Ruby a day after–”

“This isn’t just about Lizzie’s rules, Tommy,” she shook her head back and forth furiously, voice rising again in hysterical frustration. He was so smart. The smartest person she knew. How could he not understand? Was he unaware of it? Or was he just toying with her; doing what he needed to keep her close, like he did with the likes of Lizzie, Jessie Eden…

Was it not enough that he’d already broken her heart? Did he really need to drag her back to the place where she was obviously so unwanted just to stomp on it some more? To…what? Assuage the guilt he felt for falling out of love with her? Or was it duty and responsibility that he felt he still carried for her that made him so insistent?

“Then what? What is it?” his eyes were imploring, both hands gripping at her upper arms. “Tell me,” he practically begged.

“I can’t go back. Not when I know she only changed the rules because you twisted her arm on it–”

“Actually, I didn’t really have to–”

“Just stop it, Tommy!” she snapped. “Just stop it! You don’t have to keep doing this. There’s no need to keep pretending, or feeling guilty, or whatever the fuck this actually is!”

“What the hell are you talking about!?” his voice rose alongside hers, frustration and bewilderment crackling across his face.

A sob heaved its way out of her lungs. “I don’t want to talk about this right now. I already understand, isn’t that enough!?”

“Understand what!?”

The question, combined with her continued downward spiral, only served to make her more angry. He didn’t love her anymore. They both knew it. Why was he so insistent that she say it? Did he not understand that, by making her actually speak aloud the truth that she’d come to believe since he’d chosen Lizzie over her, he risked destroying her completely? “You know exactly what!”

“No, I don’t! I can’t, when you won’t fucking talk to me!”

KA-BOOM!

Whatever response she would have come up with was interrupted by a thunderous boom and the spray of broken glass as the window behind Tommy blasted inwards. One moment she was standing in front of him and the next she was seized up in Tommy’s arms, sandwiched between the desk and his body as he curled around her in a protective shield. Her hands fisted with the lapels of his suit jacket, ears ringing and eyes squeezed closed.

For a moment, neither of them moved from their position scrunched down against his desk. Lucy blinked sluggishly, squinting at the broken window in an attempt to process just what the hell had happened. 

“Are you alright?” Tommy asked. When she didn’t respond he leaned off of her, hand on her face. “Lucy, hey, are you okay?”

She stared at him with wide eyes. Her hip ached a little from where he had slammed her into the desk, and her ears were still ringing, but other than that she seemed uninjured. “Y-yeah. Yes.” She reached out an unsteady hand to cup his face. “Are you?”

He nodded, straightening to take in the damage. Had it been under other circumstances, she would have been amused to notice that he had somehow managed to keep ahold of his cigarette in his right hand. “C’mon,” he took her tightly by the hand, guiding her swiftly out of the office and towards the front door. 

“What was it?” she asked, pulling her gun from its holster against her ribs when she noticed him taking out his. 

“Car bomb. I think. Ready?” He rested his hand on the doorknob. She nodded and he pushed it open. They filed out into the street, guns raised as they scanned the area around and above them for assailants. There was no one. Ben’s car that was parked just outside the office was in flames.  

“Check the car,” Tommy told her as he rushed towards the collapsed figures of three children who had been playing in the street. She jogged over to the burning vehicle, careful to keep away from the raging flames, and peered in. She could just barely make out a figure in the driver’s seat. Unmoving. The smell of burning flesh made her recoil. Tommy was shouting instructions to one of the women from the office who had ventured out to see what was going on. He helped haul two of the three dazed children to their feet and usher them inside. The third child, the one closest to the car, wasn’t moving, Tommy instead hefted the little boy up into his arms, the child’s limbs limp as a rag doll’s. Tommy sat down heavily on the curb with the boy’s body still cradled in his arms. Cautiously, Lucy approached him, holstering her gun and sitting beside him.

“Ben’s dead.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. She rested a comforting hand on his knee. 

“Lucy, listen–”

“Later,” she shook her head, eyes fixed on the boy’s dead body held tight against Tommy’s chest. The smell of the burning car was still fresh in her nostrils. “We’ll sort it all out later.”

“When?”

She didn’t have an answer for him, instead just squeezing the hand on his knee.

“When you left,” his voice was shaky, eyes staring at some point faraway, “you said that we could still be together.”

She bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from sobbing. Instead she just leaned into his side, arm wrapping around his back while her head rested on his shoulder. His cheek immediately came to settle on the top of her head.

“I know,” she said, and closed her eyes. For a while they sat there, a question balancing on the tip of her tongue, trying to muster up the courage to ask it. “Are you going to send me away?”

Tommy looked over at her sharply. “What?”

“Mosley told me what you two were planning.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He said that you are either to sack me or marry me off to one of his friends.”

Tommy let out a harsh breath, shoulders heaving. 

“Are you?”

“No. Of course not, sweetheart. I’d never send you away. I’d never let any of his people touch you.”

“He said that you were considering it.”

“That’s just what I told him to get him to stop badgering me about it.”

“He seemed pretty insistent.”

Tommy released another trembling sigh, eyes going to where Ben’s car was still burning. “I know. I’m working on it. Don’t worry. You’re not going anywhere.”

She nodded, suddenly feeling a little silly for having believed Mosley. Even after Charlie had tried to dissuade her from doing so. Next to her, she could feel Tommy’s eyes boring into the side of her head. He scooted a little closer to her. 

“That’s not all that this is about though, is it?”

She felt her brows pinch, considering if she should just ask him the other dreaded question. Maybe the answer wouldn’t really be what she expected it to be. 

She was just about to speak, when the police and ambulance arrived. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Tommy stepped into his and Lucy’s London apartment, sweeping off his cap and shrugging out of his coat after closing and latching the door behind him.

The image of Ada, silver tears rolling down her cheeks when he told her of Ben Younger’s death, kept replaying in his head. The smell of burning rubber and flesh was still lodged in his nose, and he swore that he could still feel the weight of the dead ten year old boy in his arms.

Good intentions. That was all he’d had, and now a child and his sister’s lover were both dead.

If only he’d gone carrying on as he had. None of this would have happened. And he wasn’t just talking about his professional life. 

If he hadn’t tried to patch things up with Lizzie, if he had continued to allow her to wallow in her resentment and bitterness towards him without interference, he would not have lost the love of his life. 

He was unable to get the devastated look on Lucy’s face while she shouted at him before the bomb went off out of his head. Her refusal to return home burned, chewing away at his already fragmented heart. 

She no longer wanted him. It wouldn’t surprise him if she left for good soon. Every time he let her out of his sight, he wondered if it would be the last time that he would ever see her. 

Anyone you touch…

He closed his eyes against Ada’s words. They all really would be better off without him, wouldn’t they? They certainly would be a whole hell of a lot happier. 

Push the button. Unlock the door and come home to me.

He had. He had pushed the button so fucking fast, bracing for the rush of flames of a bomb igniting the entirety of his car. Disappointment crushed over him like a mountain falling upon his shoulders when the reprieve that he longed for did not come, the engine merely starting smoothly. 

Coughing softly into his fist, he went to the main bedroom, hesitating in the doorway when he found Lucy sitting up on her side of the bed, in one of her nightgowns but reading and marking up some documents by the light of the lamp on her nightstand. Sensing his presence, she looked up. 

“Hey,” she set aside her work. “How did it go?”

He wetted his lips. “She cried.”

Lucy nodded, expression grave, eyes observing him carefully. Tommy shifted from foot to foot, eyeing the space next to her in the bed. He wanted nothing more than to clamber in and lay his head on her. Let her hold him and stroke his hair and help melt away some of the agony he was in. But she did not want that anymore. Clearly, considering she’d refused his suggestion that she finally come home and they put this madness of separation behind them.  

He didn’t deserve that type of comfort, anyway. Certainly not from her, when he’d already put her through so much. He would no longer burden her with his problems. 

“Anyway,” he hefted in a deep breath, the awkwardness between them close to killing him. “I’ll go…sleep in the other room.”

Lucy frowned. “You don’t have to…”

“It’s fine,” he took a step back. “Goodnight.” He did not wait to hear her response, closing the door softly between them. He rested his hand longingly against the heavy wood separating them, throat spasming with the force in which he swallowed to try to keep himself from crying. 

I’m so sorry, my sweetheart. He wished that there was a way for him to convey to her the true depth in which he regretted ruining what they had. Slipping away to the second bedroom, he stripped out of everything save for his pants and climbed into the crisp white sheets, sprawling out on his back.  

It wasn’t that he was giving up, he just had no idea what more to do to try to mend things between them. Not when she wouldn’t even talk to him about what was really wrong. 

He would not be getting much sleep tonight, if any at all. He knew that already. So instead he resigned himself to staring up at the canopy, and allowing his miserable thoughts of self hatred and regret to consume him.  

∗ ∗ ∗

Lucy stared at him blankly after he finished relaying the new plan for dealing with Mosley to her. Blinking slowly, she looked down at her hands, clasped in front of her on the table. Tommy shifted from foot to foot anxiously. He’d sat her down at the round table in the Birmingham office after they’d gotten in from attending the funeral of the boy who’d died in the explosion. They’d walked together down the street, following the carriage carrying the tiny coffin as the horses pulled it along. Lucy’s shoulder had brushed against his every few paces, as if in an attempt at comfort. 

He knew how what he had just told her probably looked, and wondered sorrowfully why he couldn’t seem to stop fucking things up when it came to her.

“Why him?” she asked, finally.

“He was the best sniper in our company.” When it came to this job, he wasn’t going to risk anything less than the best. 

“I could do it.”

He shook his head. “No.” It physically hurt him to look at the wounded expression that crossed her face. 

She probably thought that he was trying to replace her. Giving the job that had always been hers out to a man in a straightjacket. She ran a hand through her hair and leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest and looking down at the floor. Tommy wanted to wrap her up in his arms and never let her go. 

“Love, listen,” he said gently, sitting down in the chair beside her. “When this is over, there’s going to be a massive investigation. Heads will roll trying to figure out who was behind it. We can’t be linked to it.”

“I won’t get caught–”

“They will hunt you until you are, love. But this way, they’ll just attribute it to a madman who still thinks he’s in the middle of a war. There won’t even be a need for further investigation.”

She looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes. “I’m very annoyed that you’re making this make sense.”  

Tommy made a sound that could have been the beginning of a laugh. There she was. There was his girl that he had missed so much. He knew she was still in there somewhere. His hands cupped her cheeks, forehead pressing to hers. “Don’t worry. You’re still my favorite assassin.”

“I was looking forward to putting a bullet in his fucking fascist face.”

“I’ll make sure you have a front row seat,” he petted her cheek with his thumb. “Alright?”

Her lips twitched upwards into a small smirk, hand resting over his own. He had missed this; the feeling of comradery. Of it being them against the world.

∗ ∗ ∗

The asylum was cold and eerie. The guard searched them rather thoroughly upon their arrival. Lucy could sense Tommy watching him like a hawk the entire time that he patted her down, supervising in case the guard tried to push things too far with his touches. But he didn’t, and they proceeded to follow him down the white hallways without incident. 

The sounds of indiscernible cries and screaming echoed in the cells that they passed. Tommy kept checking over his shoulder, to make sure that she was still behind him.

The man Tommy told her was named Barney was huddled in the corner of his cell, strapped in a straightjacket, eyes darting around wildly. But he seemed mostly lucid as he spoke to Tommy. Lucy remained quiet, save for briefly introducing herself when they first entered, and sat watchfully in the corner, eyeing up her replacement.

No, not her replacement. It was just for this job only. At least that’s what she kept trying to remind herself. 

Barney seemed, well…nice. It was almost sweet to listen to him and Tommy reminisce about the time they had spent serving in France together. He reminded her a bit of a puppy, Lucy decided. It was the way he had perked up at Tommy’s mention of a beautiful French waitress they had encountered. Or the way he stood at the bars, watching them leave, smiling and murmuring in excitement at his impending break out.  

“Barney seems like fun,” she commented after they walked out of the asylum. Tommy smiled a little.

“You should have seen him before. You two would have gotten along great.”

“Horrific place, though,” she glanced over her shoulder at the asylum.

“Yes,” he agreed, deep in thought. 

“Do you really think that this is going to work?”

“Why? You don’t trust me?” his voice was teasing, but his eyes were sad.

“You? Absolutely. I just hope that your sniper hasn’t lost his touch after all these years.”

“He hasn’t.”

“Alright then.”

She had been feeling particularly guilty ever since their fight in Tommy’s office. Both for brushing him off and avoiding him, and also for still not having truly sat down and talked about any of it like he so clearly wanted to. But at the same time, the painful sting of feeling unwanted continued to prickle at her. It was hard to fully believe that Tommy was as broken up over her being gone as he claimed to be. 

Even when staying over at the apartment, he’d taken to sleeping in the second bedroom. If that wasn’t an obvious enough message as to how he felt about her, she wasn’t really sure what was. 

Fuck, she was so damned confused. She missed being able to read him like a book. 

A painful feeling of something else, something tied to the feeling of being unwanted, twisted inside her. Because it didn’t really matter if he was as upset as he claimed, because he had still chosen Lizzie over her. And now, he had chosen another person, one he hadn’t directly interacted with in ten years, to give her job to.  

A hand brushed over hers, quietly demanding her full attention on him. His blue eyes were stern.

“You’re not being replaced,” he said. 

“No?” she tried to keep her tone light, though she was certain that he could see the doubt in her eyes.

“He’s going right back there once the job is done,” a gloved thumb rubbed along her knuckles. “I promise.”

There was no room for argument, no dishonesty in his eyes. Hope, cruel and malicious, flickered in her chest. She nodded trustingly.

“Okay. Let’s go kill Oswald Mosley.”

∗ ∗ ∗

“I had more complicated strategies in mind for Mr. Mosley. Then he spoke badly to my wife. It’s gonna be a busy few weeks, brother,” Tommy said to Arthur before walking away. Arthur answered in the affirmative, rubbing his hands together and going to assist Charlie and Curly with unloading the boat carrying Chang’s shipment of opium that they’d arrived on. 

Lucy remained standing where she had been stationed by the very edge of the canal. Staring with her eyes straight forward, her entire figure going stock-still at the words Tommy had just so casually uttered. 

Lizzie. He was going to kill Mosley, for Lizzie. 

Not for business reasons, or political ones. Not because he’d insisted that he either sack her or marry her off. Not for the good of the country, or the safety of the family, or even because wiping that fascist, dangerous piece of shit off the face of the earth actually was the morally right thing to do. No; he was doing this for her. For his wife. The mother of his children. 

The woman he loved. 

Lucy felt her heart constrict inside her chest, splintering in half agonizingly.

Below her, the waters from the cut raced past in a wild surge. She thought of how easy it would be to just step off. One tip forward. A slight unbalancing, and she would go into the water.

Would anyone even notice? Would anyone even care? Or would she be left to sink beneath the dark black depths, for the fish to eat out her eyes and the water to swell within her lungs?

Lizzie had replaced her in his heart. Barney was replacing her in her job as one of the gang’s assassins. They had a whole network of spies that Isiah was more than familiar enough with to run on his own if he needed to, and Adam could easily pick up the brunt of what she did at the London office. The rest of her various professional duties could be divided up between the rest of the family without fuss. The kids had Lizzie to mother them. 

She was not needed. Not wanted. Not even loved anymore. 

Maybe Tommy had never even really loved her at all in the first place. 

She’d started to foolishly allow herself to hope again, just a tiny miniscule amount, after the car bomb went off outside the office and he practically dove on top of her to protect her from the blast. But that must have just been the result of the old instincts of the soldier he’d once been. Not a symptom of any enduring love for her. 

Mist curled around her ankles, as if trying to coax her to the water. Just tip forward. You don’t even have to take a step. Just lean into the embrace of the black current, and the water will do the rest. You can be with Grace again. No one here will miss you anyway.

Tempting as the offer was, she did not move. She was unable too, so crushed by one simple realization that she was incapable of any other motion, thought, or speech.

She had lost Tommy forever.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[kathlare]

i love you, i'm sorry

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Set against the enchanting backdrop of Paris during the holidays, Amelie embraces fleeting moments of joy with Rodrigo, her steady and kind companion.

Wordcount: 1.2 k

Warnings: kinda mature content

full masterlist // request over here!

December 20th, 2022 - Paris, France

The Parisian streets glistened with the soft glow of fairy lights, the city dressed up in its winter best. Amelie wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck as she strolled hand-in-hand with Rodrigo along the Seine. The crisp December air was filled with the scent of roasted chestnuts and the distant hum of street performers. Paris, the city of love, had always been magical, but tonight, it felt even more so.

Rodrigo glanced at her, a soft smile playing on his lips. —Cold?— he asked, his voice low and warm.

Amelie shook her head, returning his smile. —Not when you’re holding my hand,— she teased, earning a laugh from him.

They had spent the past few days exploring the city—museums, quaint cafés, late-night walks by the Eiffel Tower. For the first time in a long while, Amelie felt like she was breathing again. She wasn’t consumed by the weight of the past or the questions that had lingered in the back of her mind. She was just... here. And it felt good.

As they turned a corner, the warm glow of a small bistro caught Amelie’s eye. They’d been wandering aimlessly, their plans intentionally loose to savor the spontaneity of it all.

—Hungry?— Rodrigo asked, following her gaze.

—Starving,— she replied with a grin.

The bistro was cozy, the kind of place that felt like a warm hug on a chilly night. They found a corner table by the window, the flicker of candlelight adding a soft glow to their faces. Rodrigo ordered a bottle of wine, and as the waiter poured their glasses, Amelie leaned back in her chair, letting the warmth of the moment settle over her.

Rodrigo watched her, his gaze unwavering. —You’re happy,— he said, almost like a statement rather than a question.

Amelie tilted her head, meeting his eyes. —I am,— she admitted, surprised by how easily the words came. —Paris has that effect, doesn’t it?—

He smiled, but there was something deeper in his expression, something that made her chest tighten. He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. —It’s not just Paris,— he said softly. —It’s you. Being with you makes me happy.—

Amelie felt her breath catch. She hadn’t expected this—not tonight, not so soon. Rodrigo’s eyes searched hers, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles.

—I love you, Amelie.—

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and light all at once. Amelie blinked, her heart racing. She hadn’t been prepared for this, not yet. They hadn’t been together long—barely over a month—and while she cared for Rodrigo, love? That was a different kind of weight. A different kind of truth.

But the way he looked at her, so open and vulnerable, made her feel like she couldn’t let him down. He had been nothing but kind, patient, and understanding, and he deserved to hear those words back. Didn’t he?

She forced a smile, her voice soft as she whispered back, —I love you too.—

The words felt foreign in her mouth, like they didn’t quite belong there. But Rodrigo’s face lit up, and for a moment, she convinced herself it was enough. She could grow into those words. She could try.

After dinner, they returned to their hotel, the night quiet except for the occasional hum of a car passing by. Their suite overlooked the city, the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the distance. Amelie stood by the window, her arms wrapped around herself as she stared out at the view.

Rodrigo came up behind her, his arms sliding around her waist as he pulled her back against his chest. He rested his chin on her shoulder, his voice a low murmur in her ear. —Beautiful, isn’t it?—

Amelie nodded, her gaze fixed on the glittering tower in the distance. —It really is.—

But her mind was elsewhere, replaying the moment at dinner over and over again. She tried to shake the unease creeping into her chest, convincing herself that this was what she wanted. Rodrigo was good for her—kind, steady, everything she hadn’t had in a long time.

He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, his lips warm against her skin. —You’re quiet,— he said softly. —What’s on your mind?—

She turned to face him, forcing a smile as she looked up into his eyes. —Just taking it all in,— she said.

Rodrigo studied her for a moment, his hands resting on her hips. —I still can’t believe I get to be here with you. With everything going on in our lives...— He trailed off, his gaze softening. —You make everything else fade away.—

Amelie reached up, brushing her fingers against his cheek. —You have a way with words, you know that?—

He chuckled, his hands tightening their grip on her waist. —It’s just how I feel.—

Their lips met, and for a moment, Amelie let herself get lost in the kiss. Rodrigo’s touch was gentle yet insistent, his hands moving to cradle her face as he deepened the kiss. She responded automatically, her body moving closer to his as the world outside their suite disappeared.

When they pulled apart, his forehead rested against hers, his breath warm against her skin. —Stay here with me tonight,— he whispered.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she nodded before she could think too much about it. —Okay.—

Rodrigo took her hand, leading her toward the bed. The room was dimly lit, the golden light from the bedside lamp casting soft shadows across the walls. Amelie hesitated for a fraction of a second, the weight of the moment pressing against her chest. But then Rodrigo’s hands were on her again, his touch grounding her, and she let herself fall into the moment.

They moved together slowly, tentatively, as if they were learning each other for the first time. Rodrigo was gentle, his focus entirely on her, and Amelie tried to let herself sink into the moment, to push away the thoughts lingering in the back of her mind.

Afterward, they lay tangled in the sheets, Rodrigo’s arm draped over her waist as he pressed lazy kisses to her shoulder. Amelie stared at the ceiling, her body still, her mind racing. She wanted to feel happy, to feel the kind of love that Rodrigo clearly felt for her. But deep down, she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was missing.

She turned her head to look at him, his face relaxed and content as he drifted toward sleep. He looked so peaceful, so certain of his feelings for her. And in that moment, Amelie made a silent promise to herself: she would try. She would try to move on, to leave the past where it belonged. Rodrigo deserved that, and maybe she did too.

But as she closed her eyes and tried to follow him into sleep, her mind betrayed her, conjuring an image of someone else—a pair of blue-green eyes and a crooked smile that had once been her whole world. She pushed the thought away, burying it deep as she pressed herself closer to Rodrigo.

It would get easier, she told herself. It had to.

-------------

liked by stelladayman, tchalamet, and others

ameliedayman: je pense que vous souffrez d'un manque de vitamine moi

View all 991 comments

fanaticforyou23: Amelie in Paris with Rodrigo? Girl’s living a movie. 🎥✨ → ameliefanatic99: @fanaticforyou23 No fr, she’s the main character. Paris just hits different with her vibes. 💅

rodrigoriquelme: Cada día contigo es un sueño hecho realidad, mi amor. ❤️🌹 → ameliedayman: @rodrigoriquelme París contigo lo es todo, te amo. 🫶✨

hatersalert99: Another trip with Rodrigo? Can she chill for five minutes? 🙄

landoxfan88: Winter break in Paris? Lando must be shaking. 🤭 → ameliefan_queen77: @landoxfan88 Bro, Lando is in the past. Focus on the present. 😂

parisgirlboss21: She really said, "I’m gonna make Paris look better." The power. 😩🔥

rodrigolover24: Amelie doesn’t deserve Rodrigo. He’s too good for this "pop star" stuff. 🙄 → ameliequeen_77: @rodrigolover24 They’re literally thriving, stay bitter tho. 😂

victoriadayman: Mi niña, disfruten mucho su tiempo juntos. ❤️ ¡Cuídense del frío! → ameliedayman: @victoriadayman Gracias, mamá. Siempre te extraño. 🥰✨

wanderlustbaby29: STOP, her Paris fits are giving chic af. I’m crying. 😭🖤

haterenergy22: Another perfect trip. Do we ever see her actually work? 🥴 → amelie_stan69: @haterenergy22 Imagine hating from your couch while she’s thriving in Paris. Couldn’t be me. 💅

bestie_vibes99: The way she makes Paris look like a fairytale... I need her life for 5 minutes. 😩🌹

[sharkieboi]

just finished the Broken Earth trilogy and ngl I’m never gonna be the same

[anonymusbosch]

sometimes i feel like extending the kindness you can, when you can, is the only thing there is

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Danny the Guy Who Won't Die

He lives in Gotham, and he is just A Guy. Nothing weird about him, he's just there to study/work/help Lady Gotham to lift her curse/on vacation with Sam. Point is, he is not there to cause trouble and there's no GIW on his tail. Just a dude living his (after)life.

And Gotham, being Gotham, still finds a way to be annoying. There are mugging attempts, robbery, Rogues running around. Only Danny really doesn't want to deal with any of it.

Now there's a dilemma. If he uses his powers to fight, it will sooner or later come to Bats' attention. And if he fights as a human, it will also alert some of the Bats since he doesn't really do a great job at keeping his power levels low. Not to mention the fact he is really not enthusiastic about accidentally punching someone hard enough he sends them to a hospital.

What does he do instead? He pulls the 'I guess I'll die' act.

So every time he is attacked, he just plays dead. The mugger shot him in the chest? He falls down and stops breathing. Caught up in the middle of a Poison Ivy attack? Skewers himself on the vine and goes lax. Scarecrow's Fear Gas? Very dramatically chokes himself and plays a corpse. He makes sure to disappear before any ambulances arrive later, and it all goes well for a few months - he is just a casualty, who cares, really - until one day, he runs into that same mugger who shot him in the chest a while ago.

The man does a double take. Danny doesn't notice - he's been mugged so many times, who has the brain capacity to remember all of those fuckers. But the rumor goes out anyway.

A guy-who-won't-die. It's more of a city legend, really, and the Bats don't give it much thought since, well, it sounds stupid and not very important. A rumor of some man who was shot dead and then showed up like nothing happened? Yeah, it's probably because the mugger didn't check if he was actually dead. That happens. Maybe it wasn't even the same man, Gotham is a big city. If anything, hey, at least that was one less casualty? That's a good thing.

That is, until one day, they show up to Joker's hostage situation and witness the clown screaming at one of the hostages. He is so enraged he is shaking, spit flying out of his mouth, and, contrary to the usual Joker's evil sneers and maniacal laughter, he seems just... furious. But, like, the normal-human-level furious. The 'I just lost the last ounce of patience with you' furious.

"Don't you look away from me, you think I don't remember you?! Na-ah, I do. You were the one I drowned in the shark tank last week! And you were the one run through the chainsaw trap two weeks before that! And you were in the guillotine!!! I saw your fucking head get deattached from your body, how the fuck are you here again?!"

And the guy he is screaming at just looks at him, confused and incomprehensive.

"Um, I'm pretty sure I'd remember getting my head cut off, you know? So, err, wrong guy."

"Wrong guy my fucking ass-"

Joker is so distracted by his screaming match that it makes it almost too easy for the Bats to fight him down and drag to Arkham. Yet, a few of them get just a bit suspicious.

Now, imagine all the shenanigans when they try keeping a watch on Danny the Won't Die Guy.

[lukesaprince]

The Other Man H.S

Summary: Where y/n's husband opens up her marriage and she meets Harry on Tinder...

Warning: Smut, oral (f & m recieving), penetration, dirty talk (degradation & praise), spanking, squirting, I think that's it?

Word count: 13.5k+

Author's note: Hellooo long time no see! It feels like forever since I posted anything and I do apologise for that my brain was taking a hiatus apparently but hopefully I can get back into the groove! This probably needs editing but I hope you like it anywayy.

- Find my General Masterlist here -

“So… do you do this a lot?”

“What do you mean?” You took a sip of your wine, trying to sate the erratic nerves jumping within the walls of your body. Not even a few drinks before you arrived to your date could save you. 

“Go on Tinder dates.” 

Harry, the man who effortlessly charmed you when your friends encouraged you to swipe right on him seemed as relaxed as ever. He had this calm and sensual aura about him that existed through every little thing he did. His smile, the way he thanked the waitress, the way he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek and guided you to the table with a hand on the small of your back. Everything. 

It was all a little too charming for your first date back in the game. Part of you even wished it would be a disaster. Then you reminded yourself that there had to be a first date. That you had to reclaim your desirability and get back into the dating scene to find yourself again. It had been three months after all, nearly four since your marriage blew up in your face and everything about your life changed. 

You felt like you were ready. Or at least willing to give it a crack.

“You seem a little nervous, that’s why I ask. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Harry spoke up again when you didn’t answer right away. 

“You didn’t offend me,” you assured, blushing at the way you got so caught up in the attraction of him, “but is it really that obvious?” You shook your head, laughing softly like the idea of actually being on a date was unfathomable. It was. To you anyway; especially given the fact that the man sitting in front of you wasn’t your husband. “This is my first date in… a while.”

“It’s not obvious.” Harry laughed softly, running his hand through his hair. “But it’s okay to be nervous. I’m nervous too.”

“You are?” Your eyes widened, “it’s not because I’m married, is it? Because I put it in my profile and-”

“It’s not because you’re married,” He assured, interrupting your clear panic. He found it quite adorable actually. “It’s because I like you and I think you’re beautiful. I wouldn’t be here if I thought otherwise.”

Oh. 

Harry didn’t want to overstep. He had only been chatting with you for a week before meeting in person, but he already liked you, at least from the few bits of information he learnt about you. And you were quite pretty, insanely pretty actually. Harry thought you were attractive from your profile, but seeing you in person only solidified that. It would take some serious differences between you two for him to not want to pursue things.

But this was a first date afterall and he wasn’t going to put pressure on something so fresh. You were clear before even meeting him that you weren’t looking for anything serious and Harry was happy with that. Whatever the outcome of this date, he at least wanted to make sure you had a good time. Even if it meant you two never saw each other again.

“Oh.” You felt your heart hammering in your chest at the compliment. Even his eye contact was making you a jittery mess. Harry made you nervous. Giddy even and you had barely known the man a week. “Thank you.”

Carson still complimented you, even still said he loved you, but nothing really felt the same after he wanted to open your marriage. It was like a wrecking ball to your life. Your heart broke instantly and your self esteem took the biggest hit you had ever experienced. Your own fucking husband asking to open your marriage after nearly three years of being married, six of being in a relationship. How were you supposed to take it?

He gave you those same reasons many guys give when they want to open a relationship; that you just didn’t fulfill his needs sexually anymore and that he needed more to be satisfied. You tried to explain that you’d be willing to explore his fantasies if he just communicated them, especially since he had been the one leading a very vanilla (but good) sex life since you two got married, but he didn’t like that idea. 

You came to the conclusion there was someone else. Carson denied it and told you he still loved you, but you couldn’t ignore the gut feeling that this was all some fucked up coverup to excuse cheating. So you said no. Safe to say that didn’t work out because a divorce ultimatum and three months later and you were here, trying to reap the benefits from an open relationship you were too reluctant to explore. 

Carson of course was happy to follow the rules you two set and be out nearly every damn night with someone, but you could never bring yourself to do it. You were still hung up on the hurt and pure embarassment you felt being forced to open a marriage you thought was happy. In the end you realised that you deserved the pleasure Carson was getting from someone else. You deserve to be desired and taken out on dates. It didn’t seem fair that only one person was benefitting.

“You’re welcome, love.” Harry smiled, “let’s just not put any pressure on it, okay? No expectations or anything. We’ll just get to know each other and see where the night takes us.”

You liked the sound of that. You liked the sound of him calling you ‘love’ even more. 

“Okay,” you nodded, “I like the idea of that.”

“Good.” Harry raised his wine glass in a toast and you couldn’t help but feel a little mesmerised by the sight of his ringed fingers wrapped around the glass. Shaking yourself out of it, you raised yours as well. “To us.” He offered.

“To us.”

The date with Harry went far better than you ever could’ve expected. He was sweet and charming and all the things that drew you to him via text were even better in person. You two had far more in common than you realised and even the things you didn’t only added so much interest to the conversation. He made you laugh harder than you had for months and was the perfect gentleman all night. 

You two didn’t sleep together, not that you went into this date wanting to sleep with him anyway because you weren’t really sure what to expect, but you came out of it hoping he’d offer to walk you up to your hotel door and maybe continue walking you right to your bed. Harry didn’t do that of course and instead offered you a kiss on your cheek and an invitation for dinner again next week, but that only made you want him more.

Leading up to the date was so overstimulating and so much all at once that you decided to book a room at the hotel in the same complex as your dinner (which he so kindly paid for), just so you’d have time in a clean environment to process your thoughts afterwards. 

Carson was out with his girlfriend April tonight, as that’s what she was to him now, so he wouldn’t be home anyway. But you didn’t want to be getting ready in your own room near the bed you and your husband shared, only to return to it after a date that could’ve been terrible. You wanted something just for you so no matter the outcome and no matter how you felt about it, you had somewhere free from any memories relating to your marriage.

When Harry offered the second date, you told him you’d think about it. He understood, took it like a great guy (the bare minimum, yes, but you were also expecting him to be too good to be true) then waited until you were in the closing doors of the elevator to say goodnight. It didn’t take long after you were clean and in the comfort of a fresh Carson-free bed that you texted Harry to let him know how much you enjoyed the date and that you would like to join him for dinner next week.

He was nice and handsome and you had a really good time with him. The thought of seeing him again made you giddy and you wanted to hang onto that feeling.

Harry: I’m glad it didn’t take you too long to think about it. I had a wonderful night. X

You were practically giggling as you read the text, feeling like a little girl dating a cute guy she liked for the very first time. It was exhilarating. Only one date in and you already understood the appeal Carson was talking about, as much as you wanted to disagree with him.

You: I’m glad. Goodnight Harry x

Harry: Goodnight, love. Sleep well x

//

“So what did you get up to last night?” Carson asked, “you have a nice night away?”

“I went on a date, actually.” Your back was facing towards him as you unpacked your overnight bag. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically feel the surprise radiating off him.

“Oh, really? With who?” Carson walked around until he was in your eyeline. He was trying not to act surprised, but you could see it even better with him in front of you that he was. His tone didn’t come off judgemental though and if it did you’d have a few things you could throw back at him. He couldn’t really say anything when you had remained silent on all his flings and relationships. 

“His name’s Harry. I met him on tinder.” You shrugged, being honest but trying not to appear too excited about the whole thing. Carson didn’t need to know you thought about Harry before you went to sleep, or that you spent a good half an hour on the phone with your friends squealing about your date with him.

“That’s great.” Carson’s reply seemed genuine and he held that kind smile that you fell in love with. “How was it? Did he treat you right?”

“It was really good, actually,” you paused your unpacking and looked at your husband, seeing the kindness in his eyes as he listened attentively to what you were saying. You wished he’d look like that all the time. “He was the perfect gentleman and we’re going on another date next week.”

“He must’ve really liked you then,” he teased. 

Carson was just joking and being quite civil about the entire thing, but you still felt that churning in your stomach. It would never feel normal talking about a date with someone else, even if it was your date instead of his now. 

“I guess so. It was only one date though.”

“Did you sleep together?” Then came the dreaded question. 

You both agreed that you had to disclose when you slept with another person and a condom always had to be used. No details had to be shared and it was preferred that there weren’t any, but for your own health and safety, you had to share it with each other. It only really mattered when you two were having sex with each other, which, with work and Carson’s busy schedule with other people, only happened once a month if that on your scheduled weekend together. 

Opening the marriage seemed to completely eradicate that part of your relationship and while you were unsatisfied, you couldn’t really find it in yourself to try and change that. Not with Carson at least. 

“No. You know I’d tell you if we did.” You didn’t really want to talk about it anymore, not when this conversation was ruining your once-happy mood.

“I know,” Carson replied softly, moving forward to place his hands on your hips. “I love you, you know that. I hope you find some joy in Harry, or whoever. Whatever makes you happy, y/n. That’s all I want for you.”

That felt like the biggest load of shit ever but you chose not to say that.

So you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to remember when you used to do it and not feel a sense of dread. “I love you too.”

//

You went on a few dates with Harry. You tried to plan things around when Carson was busy so you wouldn’t be stuck at home thinking about what he was doing and that seemed to do the trick because you hadn’t thought about him once on any of the dates you had with Harry. 

Things had progressed to a goodbye kiss then a hello kiss when you decided to be a little brave and greet him with one when he picked you up one Saturday morning. And God Harry just knew how to kiss. Even a peck was delicious. His mouth was so soft and sweet and the way he held your face or your waist while kissing you made your entire body light on fire. The more time you spent with him, the more desperate you were becoming to sleep with him.

But Harry was such a gentleman. You didn’t want anything serious and he knew that and yet he hadn’t made the first move. Kissing you was as far as he got and when things started to get a little heated when you two said goodbye, it would always end far too prematurely for your liking. 

In your head, a lot of men just wanted to have sex and most of the time did anything and everything to get there before moving on once their post-nut clarity hit. That’s kind of what you expected from Harry. Someone so good-looking and out of your league could find sex easily so you assumed he’d be eager to sleep with you. That was part of the allure, wasn’t it? To sleep with a married woman? The nasty, scandalous thrill of being with someone that belonged to someone else.

Yet Harry never treated you like that, in fact, he didn’t even bring up your marriage unless you started the conversation. Harry just treated you like someone genuinely interested in getting to know you. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

It was only your third date. This conversation should’ve come up earlier, maybe even on one of the many text conversations or calls you had, but you were a little caught up in his charm and romance to think about it then and you wanted to see his reaction in person. In the very beginning you weren’t even sure if you’d be seeing him again but now that you were up to date three and he just never brought up the fact that you were married… well you wanted to know why. He knew your marriage was open but you didn’t quite understand why was he okay with it? There had to be a reason, right? 

“Of course you can.” He leaned back against the chair and tucked his elbow on the edge of the balcony you two were sitting at. It was a picturesque little cafe overlooking a river and it truly felt like you two were on some romantic holiday. The sun was gorgeous even despite the cold breeze and Harry looked effortlessly handsome. 

“Why do you… I don’t know how to put it.” You sat a bit straighter in your chair, fiddling with the rings on your fingers. Your wedding ring. You weren’t sure why you still wore it on your dates with Harry, but it was a habit and you were married. “You never bring up Carson or the fact that I’m married and I want to know why…”

“Why I don’t care?” He asked, finishing off your sentence. 

“Yeah…” You nodded, “I guess I just don’t get it. You’re a lot younger than me-”

“I’m 27 and it’s only five years.” He corrected, looking quite amused by your comment. Five years was a big gap when he was younger than you, at least you thought so. 

“Still.” You pressed, “You’re young and I’m married. I just don’t understand why you’re choosing to go out with me and not someone else. And the fact that you’re okay with my marriage it just… I don’t know.” You looked away for a moment, needing to break free from his eye contact so you weren’t completely swept up in it. “I’m not sure if I’d be the same. I’m not the same and I’m the one who’s married.”

“I’ve been married before…” 

Well, you certainly didn’t expect that.

“What?” Your eyes widened and Harry nearly laughed at how shocked you were.

“I was only 20 at the time and it was stupid to say the least but we were happy and in love and marriage seemed like the answer to all our problems.” He smiled at the memory, tracing his finger around the rim of his water glass as he thought back to that time in his life. 

“And it wasn’t?”

“No.” He chuckled, sighing while running a hand through his hair. “Marriage caused more problems than it was worth. Steph and I were broke and both in school. We could barely afford our degrees let alone rent and it just caused so many arguments. Too many arguments. We still loved each other and we made it work but over time… the love faded.” Harry shrugged. This felt like too intense of a conversation for breakfast, but you weren’t really expecting to find out about a marriage. 

“Wow…” You breathed. “I’m sorry. Um, how long were you two married?”

“Three years. We were just too young and going through too many changes. In the end, we were more like roommates than husband and wife. Didn’t have sex for the last six months because we were too busy working and emotionally disconnecting from each other.” He looked out to the water, turning back to finish off his point. “Anyway. What I’m trying to say is that shit happens. Relationships aren’t clear-cut. I can tell you’re not just trying to get some exciting thrill by cheating on your husband so as far as I’m concerned it’s just you and me.” Harry bumped his foot against yours under the table, smirking ever so slightly. “If that changes I’m sure you’ll let me know.”

Harry spoke about it in such a respectful way. You imagined it was far messier than he made it out to be, but he didn’t blame Steph or attack her character to make himself the good guy in all of it. It was refreshing and mature. Was it bad that him being married before only made him more attractive?

Maybe it was because you now knew that he understood you. 

“That’s a very… refreshing outlook, Harry.”

“Refreshing?” He chuckled, “No. Realistic.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table, nudging your foot again. “And to answer your other question, the reason I’m out with you and not ‘somebody else’ is because I like you. I told you that on our very first date and I’ll say it again. I like you. Simple.”

“You act like things are so easy.” You laughed, blushing at his honesty. 

“They can be.” He reached for your hand, threading your fingers together before squeezing. “It feels easy with you.”

Yeah… it did. 

To make things worse… or better? his admission only made you more insatiable for him. Nothing he said was remotely casual, but it had also been a long time since you were dating. Aside from Carson, only one other man had touched you, so you didn’t really have a good gauge on navigating new beginnings or sex with a new person. You knew how to please a man but all your skills were honed in on one man. 

So when Harry offered to host dinner at his house for your next date, your stomach was a mixture of nerves and pure excitement. You hadn’t been there before, but with his invitation to stay the night, you didn’t really care what his place looked like, just that he had a nice clean bed to fuck you on. 

You never thought you’d be in this position, but you also never thought you’d be in an open marriage with a man you imagined building a family with. You didn’t see that happening now, but what you did see was you enjoying yourself and getting to explore another man for the first time in years.

Harry wouldn’t have just invited you to spend the night if he wasn’t interested in sleeping with you. He didn’t fit into the dump-and-run stereotype you created in your head, but he sure as hell wasn’t uninterested in sex. He practically oozed it from his fucking pores. 

“Y/n!” Harry beamed, opening the door with a big charming grin. He looked gorgeous and you were taken aback at just how good-looking he was. He told you to dress casually and while he matched the criteria with a pair of jeans and a loose white button-up, he looked anything but casual. 

“Hi,” you smiled, stepping inside. You barely made it into the doorway before he grabbed your overnight back from your shoulder, slung it on his and then cupped your face to bring you in for a kiss. You gasped a little into his mouth, humming when you relaxed into it and grabbed onto the sides of his mouth to reciprocate. 

It felt so young kissing like this; languid and passionately right in the open doorway of his house where anyone who drove or walked past could see. But you didn’t really care who saw when he was nudging you against the doorway and crowding you with his body. It wasn’t an innocent kiss that’s for sure. 

His mouth moved expertly against yours, tongue sliding against the seam of your mouth until it was brushing against yours. He grabbed onto your waist, pulling you flush against him until he was consuming every part of you. It was delirious the way he sucked on your tongue and groaned at the taste of your mouth. 

If this was setting the tone for the evening, you could barely wait. 

“Did you miss me or something?” You joked, breathing heavily as the kiss broke. 

He smiled, nodding while running his thumb over your mouth. He dragged his eyes over your body, taking in your nice fitting jeans and top with the most perfect amount of cleavage he could die. You were radiant. “Very much so.” 

God.

“Come in, love. It’s cold out.” Harry stepped out of the way properly this time, closing the door behind you while you looked around his entranceway. 

“Shoes off?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” 

Harry walked you straight through to his living area. It was a warm, inviting home with soft lighting and lots of texture. He had a musical influence throughout but in the most tasteful way ever. Posters, vinyls and a gorgeous record player front and centre in his living room. His style was envying and you wished Carson would let you do even half the things Harry had done to his house. 

You could see yourself being very comfortable here. 

“Your house is gorgeous, Harry.” You complimented, looking around the space in awe. 

“Thank you.” He gushed, setting your bag down on one of his armchairs before walking into the kitchen. “I originally hired an interior designer then ended up picking all her opposite choices. I think I did an okay job.”

“I think so.” You agreed, following him to the island bench. The entire house was fragrant. It was a mixture of some citrusy candle, whatever delicious dish was in the oven and his cologne. It was intoxicating. “Ugh and it smells so good in here. What is that?” you practically moaned.

“Alfredo chicken pasta.” Harry mused, grabbing a bottle of red from his wine fridge. “I know you like it. Thought I should try and impress you for our first at home date.”

“So far it’s working. Just need to wait until it’s in my mouth for the final verdict.” You replied, pressing your hip to the bench while looking at him. “Can’t give you a raving review before I’ve tried it, can I?”

If Harry set the tone with the kiss, you set the tone with your words and those flirty eyes of yours. He pressed his tongue into his cheek, nearly audibly moaning at the double entendre. Harry had been holding back on how badly he wanted you since the first date. 

There was an instant fire between you. Chemistry he had been wanting to act upon for weeks. But he knew this was the first relationship for you since your husband suggested opening your marriage and he didn’t want to push things. You two spoke about it extensively after the third date when you wanted to clear the air to figure out what Harry got from this. 

Harry got pure pleasure. To him it was simple. He enjoyed your company and you seemed genuine in what you told him about your situation, so why wouldn’t he pursue things with you?

“You’re a smart woman.” Harry smirked, pouring the red wine into both wine glasses he had set on the bench before your arrival. “Actions speak louder than words, don’t they?” The way he looked at you nearly had you sweating. 

“It’s an age-old saying, after all.” You mused, thanking him once he passed you a glass. “To us?”

“To our first night together.” He clinked his glass against yours, eliciting a smile that had you trying to hide how nervous he truly made you feel. It had been a while since you got butterflies in the presence of a man. 

“Now, tell me all about your day. Must’ve been pretty relaxing if you had so much time to get all pretty for me.” He teased, reaching out to pluck at the hem of your shirt. 

“Yeah right.” You snorted, jumping straight into all the problems you encountered during your work day. 

Dinner went perfect as it usually did. You both laughed and drank and shared a delicious meal. By the time dessert came, Harry had moved from his chair opposite you to sit right beside you, deciding to play a game with the few mini dishes he made. He didn’t really explain why he chose to make multiple options, only that you had to guess what each one is. 

You weren’t really going to stop him from feeding you, were you? 

“Okay keep your eyes closed.” He prompted, walking over to the table with the long plate housing the mini desserts. 

“Okay! Okay they’re closed.” You shuffled in your chair, trying not to sneak a peek even if you wanted to. 

“Keep them closed.” He warned again, his arm brushing yours as he set the plate onto the table. 

“They are.” You defended. 

“How many fingers?” Harry sat right next to you, waving two fingers in front of your face. 

“Harry!”

“Okay.” He laughed. Harry grabbed one of the dessert spoons and took a small chunk from the first dessert before bringing it close to your face. “Any guesses?”

“Smells warm.” You guessed, breathing in the delicious cinnamon-or was it caramel? “Caramel?”

“Very good, Angel.” He praised, unintentionally making your breath hitch. That little bit of praise hit you right in the belly, making a swarm of butterflies flutter all over. “Open your mouth.”

Shit. If only he was asking you to open your mouth for something else. 

You did as instructed and widened your mouth, rubbing your palms up and down your thighs. He brought the spoon to your mouth, letting you suck it clean before removing it. “Do you have a guess?”

“Mmh.” You hummed softly, savoring the taste of the dessert you had on your first date. “Sticky date pudding?”

“Atta girl!” He cheered. “Well done.”

If he praised you one more time… god you almost felt pathetic at how turned on you were getting. And over food. 

“Can I open my eyes now?” You whispered, wanting to look at him. 

“Nope. Next one.” He took a spoon from the next dessert and repeated the same movements, holding it in front of your nose so you could smell it first. “What can you smell?”

“Custard maybe? Vanilla?” 

“Yeah… on the right track.” He mused, “open up.” Then once again he fed you the spoon. 

“Oh that’s so good.” You practically moaned, feeling his thumb brush against your mouth to wipe away a bit of custard. He sucked his thumb clean of it, watching you enjoy the dessert. Your moans of appreciation were hitting him harder than he thought they would but he just couldn’t help himself. You were moaning over something he made. He could only imagine what you’d sound like moaning over his cock or his mouth. “Is it… like a custard croissant cake or pudding? Whatever you call it.”

“You know your desserts. I’m impressed.”

“We had it on our second date, Harry.” And that’s when it clicked. “Are these desserts we’ve had on our dates?” 

“Maybe. Depends if you can guess the last one. Now open up pretty girl.” At his last instruction you opened your mouth and your eyes at the same time, looking right at him. “Heyy. That’s cheating.” He complained, feeding it to you. 

There was something erotic about the way you sucked that spoon clean, even going as far as plucking it from Harry’s fingers so you could get all the chocolate from it. “I knew it was chocolate pudding before you even fed it to me.” You whispered, looking down at the nicely plated dish. “Did you really make dishes we’ve had on our dates?”

“Maybe.” He repeated, scanning his eyes along your side profile. “Too much?”

No. Fuck, you were about ready to jump his bones. 

“No.” You shook your head and set the spoon down. “This is… this is really thoughtful. Thank you.”

It was romantic. Everything about this date was romantic. 

“You’re welcome.” Harry murmured, eyes flickering down to your mouth. A playful smile emerged on his mouth and you could just tell something was up. 

“What?” You chuckled. 

“You’ve got something here.” He reached out to cup your face, swiping your mouth clean like he did before. “See? Must’ve liked the chocolate pudding.” 

Before he had a chance to lick it clean himself, you grabbed his hand and brought his thumb to your mouth. His lips parted and his eyes darkened as he watched you wrap your lips around it, sucking on it gently. 

“It’s good…” you whispered, eyes fluttering when he cupped your jaw. The heat rising in the room was almost unbearable. Every second felt like an hour, every flick of his eyes between your own and your mouth like a century. The touch of his pinky grazing your neck had you shivering and all you wanted-no, craved was his mouth on yours. You bit your lip, releasing it with a pop before breathing out a soft laugh. “So are you going to kiss me or-”

You couldn’t say another word because Harry had already slid his hand back to thread through your hair and pulled you right in for a kiss. You whimpered as your lips met in a soft kiss. It started gently, but as the seconds went by and your hands ended up in his hair, it was getting hot and heavy. 

“Harry…” you sighed, breaking when you needed to breathe. 

“God I love kissing you.” He murmured, tipping your head back so he could kiss along your jaw towards your neck. 

“I…” you swallowed thickly while rubbing your hands down his neck towards his shirt buttons. You were desperate to see more of his skin. To feel more of it. “I want you.”

Harry paused, breathing heavily while pulling back to look at you. His lips were already swollen; all pink and yummy looking and his eyes had this dark look in them. It was a look you were sure you had given him countless times. When your heavy kisses got cut short or when you were forced to say goodnight when you really wanted to invite him in. You were sure you were giving it to him now. 

“I want you. Really fucking bad.” He admitted, reaching to push your hair back from your face. “I just don’t want to rush you, baby. I didn’t invite you over expecting anything and-shit.” Harry’s eyes widened as you bit the bullet and ripped your shirt off before putting it down on your lap. 

You were everything he imagined you’d be. No. You were better. Gorgeous in every way and in one of the prettiest bras he had ever seen. You could’ve worn anything though and he still would’ve thought that. But Jesus.  

“You’re not rushing me.” You whispered, “but I am wearing matching underwear so you can rush that if you want to…”

Harry swooped in again, holding your face in both hands to kiss you. “I want to.” He practically moaned, “but I’m not rushing anything with you. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

“Good.” You smiled softly, sliding your palms over his chest before undoing the top button. “Good.” You barely whispered the word before kissing him again. 

Harry pulled you closer by your hips, nudging your shirt to the ground so your legs thread into each other. He ran his hands over your torso, your waist and your arms while you worked on unbuttoning his shirt. His skin was warm and soft and you were addicted to the feeling of his chest hairs against your hands. 

He undid your pants, draping the zipper down before making the executive decision to stand up and force you up as well with his hands on your hips. Your pants and top fell to the floor with ease and he was quick to push the dessert plate and cutlery out of the way so he could pick you up and set you on the edge of the table. 

He was obsessed with how your body felt in his hands and under his lips and he wanted to explore every inch of you. He let his mouth trail along your collarbones and neck, down to the clevage spilling from your bra. You were so soft and sweet, so plush in his hands. Harry never wanted this to end and it had barely started. He hadn’t even tasted you yet…

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, y/n.” Harry breathed, taking a moment to just look at you. He reached in to kiss you gently while massaging your thighs, sliding his fingers so close to the edge of your underwear without brushing them at all. “Can I touch you?” 

“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck. That was when you caught sight of the twinking diamond on your ring finger. The reminder that despite all verbal permission given by your husband as per your arrangement, you were still going to sleep with another man while married. “Can I ask a favour, though. Before we… do anything?”

“Of course.” He urged, eyes softening. “Anything. What is it?”

His gaze was so soft… so endearing. Harry showed more care for what you were saying than your husband did in the months he was off dating other people. Probably for months before that too. 

You breathed out heavily, heart thumping in your ears as you pulled your ring finger off and played with it in your hands. “Will you put this in your pocket? I don’t want it on for this. I just want it to be you and me.”

“I’ll keep it safe.” Harry promised, holding his palm flat for you to put the ring on. “Even if you wore it, it would still be you and me, y/n.” He assured, sliding the ring into the tiny pocket at the front of his jeans. 

“It wouldn’t.” You whispered, smiling softly while reaching forward to kiss him again. “It is now, though.”

Harry moaned into the kiss, pulling you closer to him so he had better access to you. Then he went back to just touching you. Caressing you. He palmed at your breasts and your thighs and your belly… everywhere he could. 

Carson knew how to make you cum, but Harry didn’t and that was almost better. He didn’t skip through to the end, to what he knew would work. No, Harry took his sweet time running his hands and his mouth over your body, trying to figure out what you liked best. He wanted to memorise the little jerks or squeezes of your thighs the prettiest soft whimpers if he touched you just so. 

Harry loved the first time he slept with someone knew. It was a new experience and an entirely new set of likes and dislikes for him to explore. And after you dressed up so nice for him and wore what would’ve had to be the sexiest lingerie he had ever seen, Harry couldn’t have been more excited. He had been waiting for this since the moment he met you face to face. 

“What do you like?” Harry breathed, smoothing his hands over your stomach up towards your breasts. They slipped under the cups of your bra to push it above your nipples so he could pinch them in both hands. “Tell me. Please.” He was almost desperate, needing to know how he could please you.

“I like what you’re doing now. I like…” You swallowed, whimpering ever so slightly when he pinched your right nipple a little harder, “I like when you look at me…”

“What else?” Harry murmured, keeping his eyes laced with yours as he dipped down to tug at your nipple with his teeth instead. He soothed the ache with his tongue; all hot and slick. All you could think about was his tongue being somewhere else. Getting head was a rare commodity in your house. Carson was quite decent at it, actually, but it was one of those things where it took forever for you to cum. You both worked demanding jobs so when you got time or needed release, it was usually something quick to get the job done. 

But god, you’d kill to be eaten out. 

“Fuck…” you gasped, running a hand through his soft hair. While you were nervous about sleeping with a new man, there was one thing marriage life did prepare you for; saying what you wanted. You had no problems telling Harry exactly what you liked. “I like dirty talk too. I like to be praised…” you had to pause when he sucked on your nipple again, releasing it with a pop that had you shivering when the air hit the wetness left behind by his tongue. “Degraded too…”

“Yeah?” Harry cocked his head, smirking like you just unlocked something evil in him. “Anything you don’t like to be called?”

“Stupid. I don’t like being called a bitch, either.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, pretty girl,” Harry assured, tucking his fingers into the waistband of your pretty underwear and sliding them side to side against your skin. Harry would’ve loved to get you completely bare for him, but there was something so sexy about fucking you while you were wearing the lingerie. You wore it for a reason, it would be a shame to let it lay on the floor for the entire night, especially when you looked so fucking good at it.  “Tell me more. I want to know what I can do to you.”

“It’s too easy if I give you all the answers, Harry. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” You teased, sitting up from the table so you could run your palms all over his chest and up to around his neck.

He was just glorious. All tanned and muscular with littered hairs that made him look so much more manly. You could only imagine what his pecs would look like all sweaty while he fucked you. You hoped he’d hover over your head so you could lick at his chest and tug at that sinful cross necklace between your teeth. 

“Can I tell you what I want to do?” He proposed, hooking one finger on the underside of your underwear this time, moving it towards your mound but not down enough to feel how wet you had grown for him. He was so close to dipping his fingers into your crease. So close to being able to please you. 

“Please…” You breathed, eager and so damn desperate for anything.

“I want to fuck you while you’re wearing this,” he snapped at the fabric, maintaining direct eye contact with you. Oh, Jesus. Between his eye contact and his sultry tone, you were going dizzy at how direct he was being. You loved it. “Then I want to strip you naked and watch you bounce on my cock. Forwards… backwards.” He groaned at the thought and grabbed onto your ass, firmly pulling you closer to the edge of the dining table until his lips brushed with yours. You could feel the hard length of his cock press against your pussy, promising you that it would be deep inside you by the end of the night.

“I want to make your ass red so when you go home to your husband, he’ll know I fucked you better than he ever could.” 

It was another promise, that Harry would indeed fuck you better than Carson ever could. 

“But first…” Harry bucked his hips against yours, keeping his grip on your hips tight so you couldn’t wiggle away at his directed grinds over your clit. He kissed you gingerly, watching your eyes haze over as you whimpered softly. Between his cock and his words, your head was spinning. “I need to taste you. I’ve thought about nothing else but having my face between your thighs for weeks now.”

Harry grabbed your hands from behind his neck and pressed them down to the table on either side of your hips, bumping his nose with yours. “Do you like the idea of any of that, darling?”

You nodded eagerly, loving the sound of all of it. “Uhuh. All of it…” you inhaled a sharp breath, loving the feeling of his hands moving to knead at your inner thighs, “There is one thing though. Something I want.”

“Tell me.” He murmured, eyes wide and eager. He just couldn’t keep his hands off you. He was grabbing your thighs and your hips, craving the warmth of your body. 

“I want your cock in my mouth. I’ve been thinking about that since our first date.”

Harry smirked and you could feel the way his cock jerked right against you. It was big. You wanted to choke on it. 

“That can be arranged.” 

He reached in to kiss you again, groaning like a starved man while wrapping his palm around the back of your neck to guide you back down against the table. When you were flat he stood back up and stripped his shirt off fully, leaving him completely shirtless. 

Then he did something unexpected. With a shit-eating grin on his face he pulled up the chair he kicked away earlier and sat on it, shuffling close to the table like he was getting ready to eat a three-course meal. You were going to make fun of him for it, but you didn’t really get a chance when he slung your legs over his shoulder and nuzzled his nose right into the crotch of your underwear. 

“Jesus.” He moaned, eyes fluttering closed. Your jaw went completely slack at what you were witnessing. Never had a man looked so fucking hungry to eat you out. He was practically delirious and all he had done was inhale how sweet you were. Harry was looking forward to having your scent all over him. “You smell so fucking good, y/n.” He looked up at you again, hooking the very tip of his finger into the crotch of your underwear and sliding it up and down along your crease. “But do you taste as good as you smell?”

You nearly whined like some pathetic puppy, but you had to keep that inside as you didn’t want to appear too eager. Too easy. Truthfully, you were easy though. Harry was able to turn you on easier and quicker than you ever thought. And all over a little dirty talk and a slight obsession with eating you out. 

“Why don’t you find out?” You hiked yourself up on your elbows, bringing your feet off his shoulders and onto the edge of the table so you were spread wider for him. 

“Oh I will,” he pulled your underwear to the side, breath hitching at the first sight of your bare pussy. “You’re so gorgeous, y/n. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long… long time.”

When his mouth finally grazed your clit, you fell back against the table. You couldn’t hold yourself up even if you wanted to, not when he started eating you out like a damn starved animal. Harry moaned like you were the best thing he ever tasted and touched everywhere. He wasn’t clit happy or labia happy and he certainly didn’t miss-interpret one part of your anatomy for another.

“Fuck Harry… oh God.” You whined, pulling at his hair with both hands before suddenly letting go because you hadn’t asked if you could. You didn’t even know if he liked it. “Do you-” You could barely breathe let alone talk. “Can I pull your hair? Is it okay?”

“God, yes. As hard as you want,” Harry moaned like the idea of his hair being pulled was orgasmic. “Don’t stop, y/n. I promise.” He grabbed your hand and guided it back to his hair, giving you a reassuring nod before going back to your clit. 

Harry knew exactly what he was doing. How to tease, how to take advantage of your entire body to make you feel good. He kissed and nipped over your thighs and used his hands to squeeze your breasts and play with your nipples. It was all so wet and sloppy and you felt like your entire body was on fire. 

“God you taste… shit-” Harry broke for air, spitting directly over your pussy then spreading it around with two fingers, “you taste so fucking good, y/n.” He used one of those wet fingers and slid it inside you, pumping it a few times while slurping against your clit again. “Never thought a pussy could be so sweet… ‘m addicted.” 

He slid his second finger in easily, fucking you with both digits so good your arousal was echoing around the room. His high ceilings did wonders of making sound travel. Even with all the rugs and soft furnishing, the softest moan sounded so much louder. And you were anything but soft. Your noises were loud and unforgiving and every single one of them was going straight to his cock.

It also meant you heard every groan Harry made. Every single sound of pleasure he was feeling just eating you out. It was possibly one of the sexiest things you had ever experienced. A man with his head buried between your thighs moaning and being so fucking enthusiastic because he gained genuine pleasure out of it. He liked it. Harry ate you out like it was his favourite thing on planet earth. 

“You okay? You good?” He checked in on you, looking up at your gaped mouth and thrown-back head. You only moaned in response so Harry reached for your hand and threaded your fingers, squeezing them to get your attention. “Hey. Look at me.” He nudged, not happy with your lack of response.

You forced yourself to look down at him, nearly shaking at how intense his eye contact was. His (now) three fingers were still steadily fucking into you, but he had taken a much-needed break from using his mouth to check on you. “Good?”

“Yes. So so good. So good.” You nodded eagerly, trying to guide his face back to you with the hand still in his hair. “Just-please. I need it.”

“You need it?” He grinned, cocking his head ever so slightly. “Is it that good, baby? Do I suck your pretty clit so good that you need it?”

“Yes... Oh yes...”

“I need it too.” He admitted, dipping back in to swirl his tongue around his fingers, right where your poor needy hole was dripping with arousal. “You just taste so fucking good, y/n. I’d have you on my face every night if I could.”

You seemed to like that idea because he could feel you clench around his fingers, knees bumping into each other so his face was wedged between your thighs. Your underwear were a complete mess too; all soaked and creamy. Harry wanted to wring them with his teeth and suck them dry, but with the real thing pressed right against his nose, he didn’t have to. 

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Letting me eat your cunt every night? Every morning, even? Would you let me wake you up with my head between your thighs? Let me eat you for a midnight snack. Because I would.” Harry moaned as he wedged his mouth over your clit again, kissing and licking at it, spitting at it so it was even wetter. You were practically a sobbing mess above him too and that only encouraged him to say whatever he wanted.

“Y/n, I’d worship you and this pretty pussy.” 

He slid his fingers out just long enough to smack them against your clit. It was gentle at first and he quickly soothed the sharp sting with his tongue. But he felt the way you jerked around his head, how your hips lifted off the table to get more. 

“Is it okay?” He breathed, looking up for an answer. This time, you were already looking right at him. You had been from the moment he left your aching cunt empty and needy because you wanted to see what he’d do. And what a sight. You were sure you’d never forget the image of him smacking your clit then making out with it like a starved man. It was ridiculous. 

Harry Styles’ mouth would kill you one day. You knew it would. 

“More than okay.” You nodded, bringing your intertwined fingers up to your breast so his large hand would squeeze against your nipple. “Do it again.”

He followed your request quickly and spanked over your pussy again, this time a little harder and with more surface area of his fingers. You gasped out a moan, back lurching off the table as they hit your swollen clit. He quickly soothed the burn with his tongue, this time blowing on your sensitive skin for a moment before languidly tracing swirls over your clit.

“Again. Harder.” You gurgled out, clenching your fist into his hair when he smacked your clit again. Harder. He slid those three fingers right back into you again, curling and fucking them roughly right against your g-spot. “Oh God… Harry!”

“Oh, you’re such a good little slut letting me spank you like this. Right over your little clit too, hm? Who knew such a pretty girl would like such dirty things.”

The dirty talk… you were going to pass out.

“You’re taking it so well, y/n” He cooed, pulling his fingers out to spank you again before they returned deep into your pussy. It was dizzying. The way he spanked you then fucked you then spanked you again like some quick endless loop. He was careful not to hit you too many times, but whatever he was doing was making you reach your orgasm faster than any other oral you had received. 

“‘M gonna cum, Harry. Please just…” You pulled his face back to your clit, urging him closer with your hand.

Harry didn’t argue and did what you seemed to like the most; those three fingers stroking right against your g-spot, one hand on your breast and his mouth sucking right over your clit. It seemed to do the trick too because not even ten seconds later, you were practically lurching off the table while crying out his name through a squirting orgasm. Your hand cemented him to your pussy so he could happily collect as much of your release right in his mouth. 

When you started to calm down, Harry softened his movements and pulled his fingers out of you. He licked them clean then pressed soft kisses all over your thighs and mound, even right on either side of your clit.

“You’re such a good girl, darling. Did so well for me.” Harry praised, squeezing your hand and keeping his eyes on your face as you panted and looked up at the ceiling. 

“God that was…” You swallowed thickly, pushing your sweaty hair from your forehead so you could look down at him. 

“What?” He nudged, smirking while kissing your inner thigh. “Good? Is that the word you’re looking for?”

“Your ego’s too big for your own good.” You laughed softly, sitting up so you could guide his mouth to yours. Harry was still smiling into the kiss until he relaxed into it. That’s when it turned heated again. The taste of your pussy and his mouth; your mouth too… it was all too much. “But yeah…” you sighed, “it was good.”

He stood up from his chair so you weren’t hunched down to kiss him and the moment you had access to his jeans, you started working on undoing them. Harry hissed into the kiss when you applied pressure to his hard bulge and he had to break free just to breathe at how sensitive he was. His cock felt harder than ever before. He didn’t think he had ever been this turned on and sore in his entire life.

This chemistry with you… it was otherworldly. Supernatural almost. A compelling pull like his cells were trying to fuse with yours. 

And you were married. He had to push that thought out of his head because only a few weeks into this and he was already considering asking you to leave your husband. 

“I need you, baby.” He panted, grabbing your hips tightly as you pushed his jeans and boxers down his thighs to free his cock. “Shit-”

You wrapped your hand around his cock while he helped you get them off the rest of the way. You couldn’t help but look down between you, needing to see how pretty he was. And pretty he was. Long and decently thick, so heavy in your hand. You knew he’d fill you up so good he’d have you seeing stars. Two fingers were usually enough to prep you for sex, sometimes even one depending on how turned on you were.

You were glad he chose three.

“Your cock is so pretty, Harry.” You complimented, squeezing your palm around him. Your eyes filtered between your working hand and his face, obsessed with how hooded his eyes became just from your hand. “So big too… I need you inside me. ‘M so empty.”

Harry didn’t quite realise when you said you liked dirty talk that you liked it both ways, but he rather enjoyed the filth spilling from your mouth. He found it cute that you could barely string words together when he was pleasuring you, but like this? It was the biggest fucking turn-on.

“Bend me over the table…” You begged softly, nipping at his jaw until you reached the shell of his ear. His cock was oozing precum down over your hand. He liked what you were saying. “Please. Make me squirt again…”

“Come here.”

Harry pulled you off the table and with a rough hand, spun you around to bend you over the table. You squealed as he spanked your ass without thought, spreading your cheeks wide to spit down over you. He planned to fulfil his promise of fucking you with this lingerie on and now that he was looking at your pretty holes bent over with the tiny string of lace tucked to the side… he couldn’t have been more excited.

“You’re just so hot, y/n.” Harry groaned, spanking your other cheek just to watch your ass jiggle. “So goddamn hot.”

“I’m hotter with a cock in me.” 

Your mouth earned you another spank, this time directly over your sensitive cunt. You squealed and jumped in place, but Harry easily soothed the ache with a friendly grind of his cock against your clit. Your knees buckled at the direct stimulation but Harry made sure you kept still by pressing his hand to your lower back.

“I need to get a condom,” he murmured to himself, suddenly remembering the dreaded protection right when his cock was so close to being inside you. 

“Hurry.” You gasped, forehead pressed to the table. 

“I will. I will.”

Harry fished the condom from his jeans pocket, placed there earlier in the evening in hopes of sleeping with you tonight. It was a just-in-case for something spur of the moment, though he didn’t start the night plotting a way to get you in his bed. He was glad now that he put that condom in there just in case, especially when you were waiting for him. 

Once the condom was on, he was right back in position. A hand on the small of your back and the other guiding the head of his cock to your entrance. Harry didn’t wait or tease, he just pressed right into you slowly and deliberately. 

“Shit-”

“Oh goddd…”

Your curses echoed at the same time, both as desperate as each other. Harry just stretched you so perfectly, on the cusp of too much and the best type of full possible. It helped that you were so damn wet, so turned on that he was easily able to push inside you. 

“God, baby. You're so tight.” Harry hissed, reaching forward to press a kiss to the middle of your back. You couldn’t even respond to his compliment when your body was still getting accustomed to a new man. A new cock. All you could do was moan and claw at the table, clenching around him. “Hey. You okay?” Harry checked, sweeping your hair back so he could see your face.

“Uhuh. Just… shit.” You whimpered, squeezing around him again. He cursed at how tight you were and collected your hair in a loose hold around his fist. 

“Y’sure?” He mused, pressing a kiss right in between your shoulder blades. “You’re trembling beneath me, darling.”

“Fuck me.” You begged. He was so deep in your belly and it was torturous having him so far inside you and not moving at all. “Please Harry just-”

He didn’t need to be convinced any further. Not with how sweet you sounded and how wet you were around him. You were a fucking dream and that only became more apparent as Harry started thrusting into you. He started with a slow but steady grind, fucking you with hard pressure like he was trying to memorise every inch of your pussy. 

“God baby. You feel so good.” Harry moaned, building up the speed with a good grip on your hips. He hooked his thumb into the small lace string of your underwear, pulling it to the side so he could watch his cock disappear into your wet cunt. And you were so wet. Your arousal coating his length and turning creamy the longer he fucked you. It was obscene. 

Mostly though, he was watching your face. Your cheek pressed to the table, mouth gaped open and eyes screwed shut as you moaned the-fuck the prettiest noises he had ever heard. He had barely shown you his best tricks and you were a mess beneath him. Had your husband really been lacking this entire time? Been leaving you so unsatisfied that a bit of doggy had you unravelling? 

He couldn’t bear the thought of you having to take care of yourself because your husband couldn’t do it for you. But maybe that was a good thing. Because then Harry would be there for you. He’d give you pleasure you had never experienced in your life. Over and over again. 

Starting with tonight. 

“Feel good baby?” Harry cooed, spanking your ass with a rough touch. 

“Yeah” 

“Yeah?” He repeated, spanking you again on the opposite side. Your whine echoed around the room, as did the sound of the dining table squeaking forward against Harry’s nice floorboards. “Say it, baby. Tell me how I’m doing, hm?”

“So good. God, you fuck me so good.” You moaned, “please- go… go harder. Harder.”

Harry picked up the pace, reaching to wrap your hair around his fist so he could pull your head back. “Moan for me, y/n. Moan my name.” He demanded right in your ear, spanking you twice on the same cheek. 

“Harry.” You cried out, feeling him smile in satisfaction at how pretty you took the pain. So he spanked you again and again as you moaned loudly into the air. 

“That’s it… Good girl. You’re taking it so well…” Harry gritted out, spanking your ass roughly while tightening his hand in your hair. You whined at the sting of your scalp, nearly sobbing at how fast and hard he was fucking into you. “S’like you were made for me, y/n. Just made for my fucking cock.”

He was fucking you so hard, so fucking good that the table kept etching forward and forward. Harry had to keep readjusting his footing and his grip on your hair. He combed his fingers through your hair and wrapped it around his fist, tugging hard when the table slipped forward again. 

But he was persistent and he wasn’t going to let anything stop him from giving you the fucking you deserved. 

“Y’sounds so damn pretty moaning my name, baby. Fucking love how sweet you sound.” 

His words elicited a moan; a filthy pretty moan only exaggerated when he tugged your hair harder. “You’re so big. So good.” You cried, “loveyourcock.”

You were addicted to the way he fucked you, even just the way he felt stretching you out but keeping completely still. It felt like you could almost reach an orgasm just like this with no clit stimulation at all which never happened. Nowadays it was your vibrator or nothing and now here you were one orgasm down and another so damn close. 

Still, you needed your clit touched and you couldn’t really reach it this way. 

The table etched forward once more and right as he pulled back to thrust into you again, the table slid forward making him slip out completely. He effortlessly slid himself back into you to continue, but when it happened a second then a third time you couldn’t help but giggle. Even through the deep pleasure and hazy mind, it was funny. 

“Fuck.” He cursed when his cock bumped against your ass cheek instead of where he actually wanted to be. He tapped it against your clit before grinding there, watching you squirm and let out a choked gasp through your light laugh. 

“I think we may need to switch rooms.” You giggled, looking over your shoulder at him while panting as you desperately tried to catch your breath. He had let go of your hair for a moment, planning on trying to continue until you suggested moving things elsewhere.

Truth be told, Harry jerked one out before you came. He didn’t plan the evening around having sex with you and would’ve been okay if nothing happened at all, but his cock couldn’t control itself around you. Just your presence and your scent could get him hard in no time so he tried to fuck the frustration out before you even got there.

He was glad he did so too because now that he was in the middle of feeling your sweet sweet cunt, he had a lot more stamina going onto his second orgasm. He could have you riding him through two more orgasms before needing to cum himself and fuck did he want to experience you squirting right on his dick. 

“I think so.” He breathed through a laugh and ran his hand through his hair, “c’mere.”

“Mh.” You agreed, standing up on shaky legs and sore hips. Harry grabbed you straight away and helped you turn around to face him. He cupped your face with one hand to guide your mouth to his, deepening it effortlessly while tucking his hands under your thighs so you could jump up and wrap your legs around him. 

You were slightly shaky in his arms, sensitive as he placed you gently on the floor in front of his bed. He broke the kiss to look at you for a moment, panting heavily while brushing his nose against yours. There was something about the look in his eyes that had you crumbling inside. They were soft and almost loving; so full of yearning and desire that you were almost scared to look back. It was overwhelming.

Harry danced his fingers down your neck and shoulder to your arm where the strap of your bra had fallen. Every touch was making you shiver and only causing that ache between your thighs to grow. You felt empty. Cold without his cock inside you. 

“Take this off. I want to see you.” Harry murmured, searching your eyes while waiting for you to nod before he kissed you once more and climbed onto his bed. He shuffled backwards until he was against his headboard, legs wide and cock hard and waiting for you to climb back onto him. 

He never stopped looking at you. Never stopped watching even as he wrapped his own hand around his cock and gave himself a few tugs to the sight of your body becoming bare for him. The prettiest of prettiest lingerie on planet Earth couldn’t compare to the sight of a womans naked body. Your bare, naked body. The soft peaks of your breasts and the way they fell naturally without a bra. The dip of your hips and tummy without the confides of lace. It was glorious. 

Harry could barely contain himself.

“You’re a vision.” Harry awed, jaw clenching like he was trying to control himself from dragging you onto the bed and pinning you down. 

“So are you.” You whispered while crawling towards him on the bed. You let your hands glide up his thighs once you were situated between them, taking the time to look over every inch of his naked body. You were in awe to put it simply and so goddamn attracted to him you were worried sex would never be the same afterwards. 

Because it wasn’t just the pleasure. It was the chemistry. The eye contact. The fact you two had a laugh about him thrusting against your ass cheek instead of inside of you because his table couldn’t handle the pressure. The way you could have that laugh just minutes ago and be back to this. The firey eye contact and his trembling thighs underneath your palms. 

“Can I have a taste…” You breathed, licking your lips at the sight of his cock up against his stomach. From this angle he looked even bigger than before and knowing he was just inside you… fuck. You could barely breathe. “Please?”

Harry groaned and wrapped his hand loosely around your neck, only applying light pressure right beneath your jaw. “Just a little, y/n. For now the only place I want to come is with you coming around me.” 

If only he was bare inside you…

“Okay… just a taste, H.” You nodded, pressing harder against his palm. You wrapped your palm around his cock, loving the sight of his jaw clenching at the touch. “Can I take this off?” You asked, rubbing over his head at the condom. 

“Yeah, baby. Take it off.”

Harry was going to lose his fucking mind. 

You were quick to pull off the condom then wasted no time in dipping down and licking a fat stripe from balls to tip on the underside of him. Harry groaned and collected your hair in his hand so he could see your face. Your eyes fluttered closed at the taste of him and the weight of him on your tongue. 

He was warm and heavy and you could taste yourself right at the base of his cock where your arousal dripped down. You made sure to clean it all up with your tongue, lapping at it while looking at Harry to watch his reaction. He could barely contain himself and with every lick his hand flexed in your hair like he was trying to control himself. 

“You can guide me. I like it when I choke.” You murmured, spitting directly onto his tip before sliding it into your mouth to spread it with your tongue. 

“God, you’re going to be the end of me.” He groaned, hand tightening in your hair with purpose. Harry reached for your spare hand, intertwining your fingers while pulling your mouth off him for a moment. You were like jelly in his hands, compliant as he instructed you to squeeze his hand once if you were okay and twice if he was too rough or you needed a break. More than happy with that arrangement, you agreed and squeezed his hand in preparation for him to guide your mouth down. 

He started to gently maneuver your mouth up and down his length, starting shallow at first before going deeper until he felt the tightness of your throat around him. You choked ever so slightly but squeezed his hand once and enjoyed the feeling of his cock twitch down your throat. 

“Look at me…” Harry breathed, forcing your eyes on his. “That’s it… fuck.” 

The sight had him gasping and moving your mouth over his cock faster. Your pretty little eyes all glistened with tears… God the sight was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. And the way you just took his cock without complaint and even moaned when you gagged around him… it was like you were made for him.

The feeling of his cock filling your throat was like nothing else. There was just something about choking on a man’s dick that got you all squirmy inside. You had always been a relationship girl and a bit of a ‘late bloomer’ according to those who thought losing your virginity in your early 20s was the biggest sin of the century, but that didn’t mean you were inexperienced. 

Your first serious relationship exposed you to things you had always wanted to try. A world of kinks and things you weren’t sure you’d like until you tried them, others you were certain you’d hate until you found out you didn’t. You always considered yourself lucky to have a guy introduce you to sex and provide an environment where you could not only lose your virginity, but experiment without any shame or constraints.

Funny how you ended up married to your next serious relationship after him to a guy who had no interest in anything remotely more exciting than a spank and a sporadic hair pull. You loved Carson enough to be happy with vanilla but fulfilling sex. It wasn’t like it didn’t have any passion, because it did, it just didn’t have this.

What Harry managed to provide you on your first night together (a night far from over as well) Carson couldn’t give you in six years of being together. You weren’t sure you could go back to your old sex life. Not now. 

“You look so hot like this.” You gasped, pulling off to breathe while jacking him off with your spare hand. Your other was still intertwined with one his and you had no plans of changing that. “I love having your cock in my mouth, Harry…” you moaned, reaching in to lick his length once more. “Feels so good.”

“Jesus.” Harry groaned, tensing his hand in your hair. “You’re doing so well, y/n. Such a good little cock sucker, aren’t you?” 

You moaned filthily at his degrade, letting him slide you back down over his cock. Your whole body was on fire. Even with only a little hand holding and hair tugging, you were beyond turned on and empty between your legs. The sight of him was just so beyond sexy, almost too sexy for you to handle. 

His chest was heaving and glistening with sweat. With every pant or moan his abs would contract and his thighs would tremble on either side of your shoulders. You wanted to see him cum so bad. You wanted to watch his jaw contract and his mouth part as he moaned your name. 

“You’re gonna make me cum, y/n.” He warned in this almost whine of a tone. “Need to cum inside you.” 

“I want it in my mouth. Wanna taste you.” You practically pleaded, tapping his tip against your tongue. 

“You’re incredible…” Harry groaned, using his hand on your hair to pull you up towards his mouth. He kissed you hungrily, angling your head in the direction he wanted so he could deepen it. “But…” he panted, breaking just to say that one word before kissing you once more, “I need to…” he nibbled on your lip and grabbed onto the back of your thighs, "… feel you around me when I come.” 

You whimpered as he dragged you in a straddle and pressed your wet cunt directly over his cock in a slow deliberate grind. Fucking hell. You just wanted to slip him in, to feel him bare inside you until you were full of his cum. 

But you couldn’t. And the fact you were half considering letting it happen on your very first sexual experience out of your marriage was insane. It scared you. 

“Condom.” You uttered against his mouth, tugging on his hair ever so slightly. 

“Yeah. Yeah.” He breathed, barely able to concentrate when you dragged your mouth along his jaw and neck. Harry reached for his bedside table and grabbed another condom from the top drawer, returning quickly to kiss you again while blindly unwrapping it. 

But it was like Harry was stuttering. Fumbling to do something as simple as putting a condom on his own cock. He couldn’t help it really. Not when your mouth was so sweet and erotic, nibbling at his bottom lip until all he could think about was how to hold his breath indefinitely so he could kiss you forever. 

And you were growing impatient. The few seconds delay in his movements had you so desperate you leaned back to breathe, took the condom from his hand and rolled it down on his cock in one swift motion. 

“Fuck me, baby.” This time it was Harry’s time to plead. He wound his hand in the hair at the nape of your neck and kissed you again, panting into your open mouth as you guided him to your entrance and dropped down on him once more. 

His cock felt so much bigger from this angle and he felt deeper too even though he was just fucking you so hard his dining room table couldn’t handle the force. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t control the loud whine flooding into his mouth when your clit hit his pubic bone. Or maybe it was because this position was far more intimate than being bent over. 

“You’re so big… feels bigger like this.” You gasped, lulling your head back while grabbing his shoulders for balance so you could start bouncing on him and getting a good rhythm going. 

“I know…” he cooed, squeezing your hips before spanking you quickly. “Show me how much you need it, huh?” Leaning in, Harry ran his mouth along your exposed neck, panting between little bites and licks on your skin, “show me how good m’cock makes you feel.” 

"Love your cock," You whined, already feeling the ache in your thighs as you picked up the speed.

Harry wrapped one arm around you and hugged you tighter while pressing the fingers of his spare hand directly to your clit. And with every bounce, every grind, his fingers stimulated right where you needed it the most. You were already so full with him and now he was giving you the cherry on top so you could finish.

"More... more, please. Need it harder."

"Need it harder?" Harry taunted, hiking his legs up on his feet in a wide position on the bed so he had enough stability to thrust up into you. "Like that?" He chuckled at your cry, squeezing your body in his arm so you stayed exactly where he wanted you.

"Yeah... yeah. Fuck!" you practically sobbed, unable to do anything but grab his hair or shoulders and just take how hard he was fucking into you. His legs were strong and while you were a sobbing, breathless mess above him, Harry wasn't losing momentum at all.

He was sweaty and panting but he never stopped thrusting up into you. At least that's what it felt like. While you gave up and begged for more, Harry was more than happy to take over and give you a fucking you'd never forget.

He thrived being in control. You could tell.

"That's it, y/n. You're taking it so fucking well, y'know that. Just sitting there and taking it like the good little slut you are. My fucking slut..." Harry cooed, dipping down to tug at your nipple. "Got me so fucking close, pretty girl. Just need you to come f'me."

Between his words and lips on your breast... his fingers pressed to your clit and the way his cock was bruising your insides, you couldn't hold on any longer.

“God, Harry. ‘M gonna cum” You cried, trying to warn him of the deep churning in your belly and the trembling in your toes.

"Look at me." He demanded, sliding his hand up into your hair to force your head in his direction. Your eyes fluttered open but despite your vision already hazy, you could clearly see the way his eyes were hooded, pupils wide and hungry. "That's it. Look at me while you cum, baby. Let me see how pretty you look."

Harry pressed his forehead to yours, opened mouths panting and brushed against one another. He watched closely when your mouth gaped wide and your eyes struggled to keep open as your orgasm hit. The way your brows furrowed and your entire body trembled on top of him and he could feel his lap and lower belly become soaked in your release.

It was glorious.

"Good girl." He praised, "Fuck. Fuck!" His words turned to mush when he reached his own orgasm and somehow even pulled you tighter against him so he could feel every inch of your soft skin.

Coming down was all open-mouthed kisses and laboured breaths and this distinct feeling that everything had changed. You two could never go back to casual and you most certainly couldn't look at yourself or your husband the same way ever again.

"I feel bad you only came once." You practically pouted, grabbing another spoonful of pudding to feed it to Harry. "It doesn't really seem fair."

What did seem fair, though, was finishing off the dessert neither of you ate after your intense workout. You were quite enjoying feeding a naked Harry delicious sugary puddings and it just felt morally wrong to leave the dessert sitting there when it was the perfect bridge between round one and two.

"Trust me. I'm more than satisfied." Harry chuckled once swallowing the delicious dessert. He dragged his fingers over your hip, loving how his t-shirt fit your frame. It was so casual and sexy. His clothes had never looked better.

"Well, I hope you're not tired because I'm not and I think I'd like to test your 27-year-old stamina." you shrugged casually, eating the last bite of the sticky date pudding.

"Oh really?" Harry raised his brow and gently took the spoon from your fingers to set them down on the plate. "Two orgasms wasn't enough for you?" He teased, moving the plate out of the way so he could cup your face and gently guide you down onto the bed.

"Mh mh." You shook your head with a smile and clasped your hands around the back of his neck while he adjusted your body to hover over you. "I think at least four..." you curled your leg around his hip and dug your heel right into the pudginess of his bum, "and I wouldn't mind a bit more effort put into making my ass red. You did promise that, didn't you?"

"More effort, huh?" He smirked and grabbed onto the underside of your jaw with a firm grip to pin you to the bed. "You've got no idea what you just started, little girl."

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

Tag List: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @gurugirl @hsonlyangelxo @kkr102 @falloutby

@caynonmoondreams @theskyyabove @sykostyles @harryslittlefreakk @avaaas-world

@littlenatilda @grabiolla @forgetdelaney @hislcstyles @yourdatcrazyweirdo

@elidoho @esnyhoney @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @lillefroe @harrysrockstarsgf

@hrrypinks @justlemmeadoreyou @swagg13r @whatamievendoingonhere @delicatepointofharry

@onlyangellucifer @youcan-nolonger-run @gotdrxnkonu @cheappackofcigerattes @idrawshapesonpeople07

@straightontilmornin @mellamolayla @stilesissaved @ribbonknives @scndsofsummer

@floral-recs @styles.sturniolo @maryjahps @babyfratelli7 @voniikg

@complikyfreak @tswiftsgf @triski73 @michellekstyles @freedomfireflies @tiredinwinter @butdaddyilovehim-hs

*please make sure your settings allow you to be tagged ❤️*

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed! 🤍

[mv1simp]

Cuffing Szn ♥️

Max Verstappen x MidSize!Reader

it's cuffing season and all the girls are leaving to get a big boy (I need a big boy, give me a big boy)

As Max Verstappen's new girlfriend, you're one of the few WAGs on the grid who isn't a model and the only one, you think self consciously, who doesn't look like a model either. Good thing your big, strong boyfriend is here to set the record straight about how much he disagrees with you.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, trigger warning: explicit discussion about eating disorder and body dysmorphia, dom!max, sub!reader, size kink, this is just a shameless excuse for me to write smut about max's thighs, 3.3k WC

When you'd delivered one of your favourite patient's 3rd baby, handing over the healthy, crying pale blob (after thoroughly wiping it down because, you know) with a congratulations, Victoria, its a boy! you hadn't expected to catch the eye of the patient's very attractive, tall older brother at her side.

But as you walked off down the hallway once the baby checks were done, you were surprised to find Max stopping you with a large but gentle hand on your shoulder. You'd seen him a couple of times in Victoria's pregnancy, accompanying her and her husband at the ultrasound checks leading upto the delivery. You'd secretly thought he was so adorable with the way he handled his nieces and nephews patiently while his sister got scanned.

You'd also thought he looked positively delectable in his white linen shirt that highlighted his broad shoulders, and skinny jeans that clung to some of the thickest thighs you'd seen a man be blessed with. But making bedroom eyes at patient's hot family members was generally frowned upon (although not explicitly prohibited in the Hippocratic Oath, one could argue) so you promptly forgot about the handsome blonde 5 minutes later when the emergency bell went off.

But he stood before you that day, looking every bit as attractive as you remembered, even more so with a pink dusting on his cheeks as he asked if this was the last time you'd be looking after Victoria?

You tilted your head quizzically at him, your neck a little strained from looking up at his 6 foot frame from your 5"1 one. Yes it is, you informed him, and because new families often got anxious, you sweetly added that it was a good thing, to not see you again, because it meant darling Victoria and her baby are both healthy.

He confuses you again by saying that he was hoping to see you again. Oh! You smile excitedly, are you and your wife expecting? You pull out your clinic card and tell him that you're actually all booked out for the year but you'll make an exception for Victoria's brother.

His blush deepens. (Somewhere in a hospital broom cupboard, Lando Norris was filming this scene unfold and cackling.) Max rapidly explained that he's not expecting. Oh, and he's not married. And also he doesn't have a girlfriend. Basically, I'm single - he finally stammers out. (Rizzless and bitchless, Lando texts him). Thankfully, at this point you had caught on that Max was trying to ask you out, and after a quick phone call to the legal team to confirm you were clear, you turn back around to inform him cheekily that he could pick you up at 8pm Friday night for dinner. (Wait, this actually worked? a flabbergasted Lando now texts.) The emergency pager then goes off so you gently tug on Max's shirt to hint that you want him to bring his face down, give him a goodbye kiss on the cheek, and sprint off to Ward 6.

The dinner goes perfectly, with Max's charm returning in full force after a G&T - Sorry about earlier, schat, you're such a gorgeous woman and a very smart doctor, it makes me nervous - leading to a 2nd date and then a 3rd and then to a weekend trip in a romantic Nice winery, where you can't resist jumping into his muscly arms after a glass of wine and demanding he have his way with you. (He does. Very thoroughly. Multiple times that night, and the morning after. Thinking about it still has you blushing.)

6 months later, you two are officially going out and you're making your first appearance as his girlfriend at the races. You had carefully dressed in a classy Mirror Palais dress, complete with matching heels to save your poor boyfriend having to bend down too much. You'd also become rather turned on at seeing your normally soft, gentle cat dad of a boyfriend turn into an absolute menace once the Redbull suit is zipped up, terrorising his way all the way to P1 and living up to his nickname of the Dutch lion. As his assistant guides you to the podium ceremony, you're stopped by various fans who compliment your outfit and ask for pictures. The media attention is very new to you, as Max had been very insistent on protecting your privacy as you two established yourselves as a couple. But everyone had been so nice today - until you started noticing the dirty looks thrown your way, glaring up and down your form. And then, a couple of snide comments from passing fans about how you were very confident to wear such a body hugging dress, especially with your curvy figure.

You roll your eyes at their clearly jealous tones, and walk over to the podium ceremony to greet your boyfriend. He breaks into an adorable grin when he sees you, his whole face lighting up as he easily scoops you up for a deep kiss. The cameras around you two go crazy, but don't pick up his whispers when he sets you down and leans in, telling you that you looked so pretty today, schat, he'd been staring at you so much GP had to tell him to focus, and how was your first race? nobody gave you a hard time, did they? You don't miss the way his eyes are attentively focused on your face, clearly still worried about the damage he had warned you about before you agreed to go public.

You aren't going to spoil his win over a couple of snide comments. Not at all, baby you reassure, before whispering back that he looked really hot in his tight fireproofs, could he pretty please bring them home later when you give him his reward for such a good performance on the track? The tip of Max's ears go pink as he struggles to maintain a straight face for the cameras. Giggling, you press a kiss to his cheek and murmur you'll see him after his interviews.

Later though, when Max is in his interview across the paddock and you're being introduced to the other WAGs, you can't help but notice how different they all look in their body hugging dresses compared to you. Although you wouldn't be called fat, you aren't slim either, and you're nowhere near the tiny, trim figures the other girls maintain. Once the seed of insecurity is planted, it's very hard to stop it growing out of control - and at each race or public event or launch party you attend at Max's side, you start to pick apart more and more insecurities about yourself. How you're so much shorter than the numerous models on the grid, making you feel childish and round compared to their lithe gracefulness. How their delicate collarbones and ribs can clearly be seen at all times, but yours only if you twisted your neck a certain way. And they're all so lovely, chatting eagerly with you and interested to hear about your work, asking if you'd take so-and-so on as a patient, you had a great reputation already even though you were a new doctor in Monaco! The conversations distract you from your worries for a bit.

But afterwards, when you'd be laughing at cat memes online and sending them to your boyfriend, you'd come across the paparazzi pics of you speaking to the WAGs and felt sick to your stomach at how huge you thought you looked compared to everyone else, clearly standing out as the plainest one amongst their flawless faces. Some of the comments agreed, saying that it was just sad that the best driver on the grid had the ugliest girlfriend, and couldn't Max buy his gf some ozempic with all his tax evasion money? Comments that would have made you laugh at the originality now suddenly had you sobbing, and you're glad you hadn't stayed at Max's tonight and had to explain the state you were in.

When you'd been younger, in college, you'd started struggling with managing your stress levels given you were a perfectionist working towards a very difficult medical degree. Having always been a stress eater, you frequently binged on junk food, and obviously ended up gaining quite a bit of weight. Your family and ex boyfriend had ridiculed you endlessly, and so the year after you had to work hard and lose it all, which you had managed to do. You'd mentioned this to Max in passing, a couple months into dating when he'd spotted an old college picture of you and muttered so fucking cute, pocketing it.

You didn't tell Max about how you'd lost the weight though - with a vicious binging and purging cycle for the better chunk of a year. You'd grown out of that "phase" once you'd left college, or so you thought - because it was almost too easy to slip back into it now, to enjoy the sick pleasure at barely eating all day and seeing the weight drop on the scale, then bingeing on whatever you wanted because it didn't count, you'd throw it up anyways. You had to be very careful with it this time round, because your boyfriend's attentive gaze had been fixed on you even more so than usual - noting how you've been wearing higher heels, how your dresses are still as gorgeous as ever but never body hugging anymore, how you spend hours before a race now perfecting your makeup instead of joining him in the garage and don't spend the nights at his anymore. You weasel your way out of his questions when he asks you repeatedly if everything was okay, schat?

But you weren't able to fool him any longer after attending a charity gala for one of his sponsors. You'd actually been happy with your appearance for once, pleased with your slimmer waist this month, but as the night went on you started to feel the fatigue of starving yourself catching up, leaning more and more into Max's side as he glanced at you with concern. Rubbing your back soothingly, he asked if you wanted to leave early, but you shook your head, murmuring you were okay, your feet just hurt a little is all. He frowned then, hating to see you in pain just to be dressed up for some stupid event he couldn't care less about. Bringing you to the empty lobby, he told you he was going to grab your coats and have the car brought round, end of discussion, you need to rest, okay liefje? You didn't have it in you to protest any longer so just nodded. You hadn't realised just how much you'd been leaning on him until he left, and as stars started entering your vision, Max returned just in time to catch you before you stumbled.

You felt him firmly grab your waist, fully supporting your weight as he led you out to the car, lowering you gently into the seat and even buckling you in. You started feeling a bit better inside his Aston Martin with the aircon on, nibbling on a high protein low calorie bar you'd stashed in your clutch. Regaining your alertness, you notice the tense atmosphere, with a stormy expression on Max's face as he drove rather furiously through the Monaco streets, his hand not even resting on your thigh like it usually did but gripping the wheel tightly. Maxie - you begin uncertainly, hoping to diffuse the tension and ask why he was upset, but he cuts you off with a terse Don't. Let's wait till we're home.

So you wait, until you're both walking in through the front door. Max rips off his suit jacket, rolling up his sleeves, but he still doesn't talk and instead heads to the kitchen. You follow him, sitting on a barstool to admire how he still looked so handsome in the fitted sky blue shirt and tight navy pants, even when he was clearly mad. As Max starts cooking, his back to you, he tells you about how growing up his sister Victoria had to go to therapy for a long time because she wouldn't stop throwing up every time she ate because their father told her she was too fat (despite looking like a buffalo himself, Max snorts as he sets down a simple but delicious plate of chicken pesto pasta with salad in front of you), about how Max has seen countless girlfriends on the paddock purposely avoid eating all day, including his already stick thin model exes, and how Max himself would be called fat every month or the other by some trashy gossip magazine, because the media is just fucking toxic, he hisses. This is why I wanted to keep us hidden away from the cameras. He glances pointedly at your plate, where you've eaten the salad and chicken and not touched your pasta. You sigh and pick up your fork, slowly working your way through the food as you tell him that you suppose your diet had somewhat...spiralled out of control, but honestly, Max, I'm completely fine, and you two can't avoid the cameras forever given how he's the frickin F1 winner at all-

Don't tell me that you're fine. Do you really think I don't know what's going on? Max demands tersely with crossed arms. Finally finished with your meal, you hop off the stool to neatly place your plate in the sink, ignoring his question. Standing behind you, he watches you wash the dishes, still not even reaching his chin, even in those damn 6 inch heels you're still wearing. You do respond when he asks you just why you're putting your body through such torture.

C'mon, Max you say with an eyeroll, You know why, I need to lose some weight, I'm so much heavier compared to all the other girls and all your exes, and you deserve to have a girlfriend who looks-

Don't tell me what I do or don't deserve, schat. I always want the best and that's why I picked you. You're really gonna question the choice of a world champion, hmm? Max's deep voice is now right by your ears as he leans down behind you. You feel a shiver run up the back on your spine as he curls his huge arms possessively around your waist and thighs. He continues his whispers, his hands roaming up to your plush tits and another squeezing your ass, telling you You're so goddamn pretty. Every single part of you, just for me, making you bite your lip and breathily moan from his affections - it'd been a while since he'd had his way with you with all your avoidance, after all.

You feel him slowly unzip your dress, and the silk easily falls to the ground, leaving you only in your stiletto heels and a deep red lingerie set he’d gifted you for your 3 month anniversary. You tense, already feeling self conscious, but before you can say anything Max has wrapped a large hand around your waist and easily flipped you around to sit on the kitchen counter. You gasp from the action, hands automatically going to rest on his broad shoulders as your face comes level with his.

I haven’t made it clear just how lucky I am to have such a beautiful girl all to myself, schat, Max says huskily, before pulling away to unbutton his shirt, his blue eyes darkening as they roam over your pretty tits spilling over in the lacey bra, over your cute plush tummy, and over those deliciously soft thighs he adores. His hungry stare is really starting to drive you wild now, and you beg at him to hurry up and finish undressing. Chuckling, he throws his pants to the side as well, now only wearing his tight boxers. He pulls you forward on the counter so you're flush against him. See what you do to me, sweet girl? Hmm? he grinds the very prominent bulge in his boxers against your own damp core, making you gasp. You get me so hard and you haven't even touched me yet, that's the kind of power you have over me.

At his words, you don’t hold back from running your hand all along Max’s well defined chest. Your boyfriend is so much bigger than you and it's incredibly sexy. He towers over you easily with his 6 foot frame, all wide shoulders and swollen biceps and muscled thighs, and you don't hide the hypnotised look in your eyes as you trace from his thick neck down to his slutty waist, desire and desperation coursing through you, replacing any inhibitions you'd had earlier.

He grasps one of your wandering hands in his own, his larger palm easily dwarfing your tiny one and making you bite your lip at the difference in size. His attentive gaze doesn't miss this either, and with a low hmm he brazenly asks if you found it as hot as he did, the fact that you were the perfect size for him to snap into half if he wanted? He knows he's got you right where he wants as your pupils go wide with desire, breath hitching at the thought of your big boyfriend using his strength against you for once.

Then he's pulling apart your pretty little set, lace ripping and a large hand easily wraps around your entire throat, pulling you into a breathless kiss that has you moaning at his skilled tongue. You barely have time to collect yourself when he suddenly lifts you up by the waist, biceps flexing, and your eyes widen as you're lifted impossibly high in the air and find yourself straddling his thick shoulders, his face now at the perfect height to bury his tongue into your dripping pussy right in front of him. Max! you squeal, utterly ruined by his impressive display of strength. You're desperately scrambling for purchase at the cabinets behind you, head banging back against the wall as he relentlessly thrusts his wicked tongue into your puffy folds.

And he only sets you down after you cum obediently all over greedy lips like he demands you to do, then gently carries your shaky form to the bedroom to show you multiple more examples of how you were just made to take him, truly the perfect girl for him, weren't you? You'd been too blissfully fucked out by that point to form a coherent response.

Needless to say, you find yourself caring very little next time strangers had anything to say about the way you looked, thanks to Max's hands on affections (he'd also taken you to therapy like the supportive boyfriend he was, bless him.) He'd quickly formed a personal favourite method to prove to you just how desperate he was for you and how you had the world champion in the palm of your hand, whenever he saw that look flicker into your eyes from time to time. He'd take you back home, make you undress yourself for his hungry gaze, then lift you up into his arms, folding your thighs up against your waist from where he held them. You’d moan as he slid into you, bouncing your whole body onto his hard cock like you were a ragdoll, making you scream his name endlessly as he fucked you mid-air.

And sometimes, when he was feeling particularly possessive, he'd flip you around, pressing your back to his toned chest, as he made you watch with him in the mirror how he obscenely slid in and out of your dripping pussy. Whispering in your ear that see, like he had told you, he had such good taste, don't I, schat? And as you met his heated gaze through the reflective surface, clenching around him when you saw the pure love and raw desire in his eyes, you couldn't help but agree.

---------------------------------------------------------

A/N: guys can you guess I have a thing for boys who are big. Big boys, if you will. Someone just let me sit on Max’s lap goddamn 💸💸 as always lmk what you think and if u have any requests!!

[inbabylontheywept]

she was dead silent on the drive home, but that was okay. sometimes, after band practice, she was just out of words. it was a short drive to her house. the only part where it actually felt weird was after i pulled up her parent’s driveway. 

after that, the silence stretched so far it smeared and left a weird residue. she kept looking at the car door like she wanted to leave, so i looked at the door too, then she looked at me, and i looked at her, and my first thought was that she was going to tell me that the door was stuck. i was used to that car always doing some damn thing. it was the car me and all my siblings had learned to drive in, and it was really beat to hell. there were dents all over the body, which we’d unsuccessfully tried fixing up with spackle. it had looked nice for maybe a week, but then the sun wrecked it - the spackle cracked up like the mud on the bottom of a dry riverbed and turned a sort of off yellow-white that made the car looked like it had been molded out of chicken shit. it also had a bullet hole it through the cabin that whistled like a toothless old man whenever the car went above 40, so loud it could drown out the radio, and a cabin that smelled so strongly of bugspray that even the arizona summer we drove everywhere we could with the windows down.

(if you have kids one day, you will maybe, possibly, begin to understand how much i loved that car.)

anyway, i was thinking about what else could possibly be wrong with the chickenshitmobile, and she just kept looking at me, and then i wondered if there was something on my face, and she just kept looking at me, and then the penny dropped and i realized she was trying to work up the nerve to break up with me. 

now, i’d seen her work up the nerve to do things like this before – it could take quite a while. and knowing it was about to happen made the waiting immediately unbearable. 

so i said hey. 

and she looked at me, very startled, and said hey back real small. like she’d been caught. and in a way, i suppose she had. 

and i said it’s okay. you can just say it. i’ll be okay.

i’m always okay. 

and she said: i’m really sorry. 

i loved her, you know? it was highschool, but teenagers are capable of love. the way people love changes over time just as much as the way they stand, or the way they talk, but things don’t stop existing just because they're different. opposite really – a thing only stops changing when it's fully gone.

and i said, nothing to be sorry for, and i meant it. she looked a little relived, and i was happy to give her that peace. then she left. i watched her make it through the front door, because that was just habit at that point, and then i sat there a while afterwards, checking how i felt. and the answer was not good, but good enough to make it home. good enough to limp on. 

so i put my car in reverse, took my last look goodbye, and immediately backed into her neighbor’s car. 

crunch. 

air bags didn't go off, which was good. i left a decent dent in the bumper of the other car. genuinely couldn’t tell if i did anything to my car – anything wrong with it just kind of blended together into the general ecosystem of hand mottled, sun cracked, chickenshit spackle. 

i checked my glove box, and my car insurance info was, of course, out of date. my phone was dead too. as a teenager, my phone was less my lifeline to my friends, and more my tether to my parents, so i wasn’t particularly conscious of keeping it charged. both my fault.

i sat there a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to handle things, and there was only one answer i could think of, and i hated that answer, so i spent a few more minutes trying and failing to think of a better one, and then a few more coming to peace with what had to be done. 

then i went back to knock on my now ex’s front door. 

her dad opened, which i was very relieved over, even if he seemed less than thrilled. he looked me over, and in a firm, but slightly apologetic way said: she does not want to see you right now. 

(i think he assumed i was going to try and talk her out of the break up?)

and i said not here for her. i just backed into your neighbor’s car, and i need to call my dad, but my phone’s dead. could i borrow yours?

and he looked at me, then back at his neighbors car, which sure enough was dented, then he looked at the chickenshitmobile, and if there was something wrong with it, it just kind of blended into the general Wrongness of the car, then back to me, and i could see him imagining the last ten minutes from my pov: getting broken up with, backing into a car, having to walk up to your exes door and borrow a phone, calling my dad to tell him that i just reversed into someone.  

and his expression shifted from stern and apologetic to truly sad, which felt more kind that i deserved. things only got here because i kept fucking up - forgot to look behind me, forgot to replace the insurance forms, forgot to charge my phone. it was my mess, but his sympathy meant the world to me. i probably would’ve cried if he said sorry, or patted me on the back or called me sport, but instead he said

stay out here – i’ll bring you a phone.

and then he left.  

i found a nice spot on the lawn in the shade under a sycamore, then settled into his grass.i was trying not to freak out, and was doing an okay job. he came out a minute or so later, not just with a phone, but a juicebox and a jar of green olives, which really threw a wrench in the whole try not to cry thing. soon as i saw those, a few tears squoze out. i was still hoping i could pass them off as Manly Tears but then he told me that he’d gotten the olives a few weeks before and had been meaning to hand them off to me, and that this was his last chance for that. then i made a sound like a horse drowning in a bog, and he patted my back pretty rough, four solid thumps, like he wasn't sure if i was crying or choking on an olive, and was trying to cover both bases at once.

then he went back inside, and i made a few more bog horse noises while finishing off the rest of the entire jar of green olives, and then i called my dad.

he was about ten minutes away that day, and luckily was home. he drove over, and we went to the neighbor’s house, and from there things actually went quite nice. the neighbor was a retired man who actually said he could fix the dent himself, no need for insurance. he said he appreciated that i didn't just drive off, and i said i was really sorry about his car, and he said he was really sorry about my car, and then he gestured to the chickenshitmobile and i laughed because it really was a disaster on wheels.

then we left.

i thought we were going to head straight home, but instead we went to a gas station, and we both got several slim jims that we folded into thick enough coils that we could put them on a hotdog bun because the growing up mormon equivalent of having a sad brewski with your dad is just choosing to make bad decisions sober. then he took me to the canals and we watched the sun turn all orange and pink, and he looked over at me and said:

brains are good at remembering bad days. so you gotta make sure that a bad day has a good part in in, so you can remember that too. remember that when you have a kid. try to do a good job on days like that - they're going to be a big part of how they remember you.

and then he gave me a big hug and said he was never going to eat another slim jim again.

---

the year after that i went to college, which kicked my butt in new and exciting ways. and on a lot of those bad days, after a test that went sour, or a faux paus that was particularly embarrassing, or some other hardship of my new adult life, i’d stop by the gas station and pick up leathery, half jerkied hotdog before heading to the canals to watch the sun set. i’d take a bite and imagine my dad next to me, grimacing through the slim-jim wad, asking what good thing i was going use that time to remember. 

and in my head, i’d say you, dad. 

i’m going to remember you.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine logan seeing you again

logan x reader

warning: some deadpool x wolverine spoilers. this takes place after the movie. under 1k words.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The apartment was packed jammed with friends and some foes of Wade Wilson. There might have been music playing in the background, but Logan couldn’t tell when his eyes locked with the figure walking through the front door. His heart dropped, he felt sick to his stomach as his eyes fluttered. It had to be a dream but then he quickly came to his senses.

This wasn’t his universe, his world. He was somewhere entirely new. He caught his breath as Wade shouted out an exclamation of joy. Logan watched as he drew up from his seat to greet you with an overzealous hug, pulling you toward the group at the table.  Wade held you rough by the shoulders and grinned. “Look who decided to come out of retirement, conveniently after we,” he pointed to Logan then himself. “Saved the fucking world. Avengers, who? Bunch of assholes, if you ask me.”

“You sound like a man scorn, Wade,” you teased, offering a wave of a hand to your friends. The idiot next to you was right, the whole superhero thing had been a thing of the past. You have been a regular civilian for a few years now and have been loving a more relaxed existence – not being threatened daily was like, nice. “Don’t worry, you’ll see all the details in the movie. Have you meant my little angry beaver, the Wolverine?”

Your head jerked to where the older gentlemen was sitting, and you grinned. “I haven’t had the pleasure. I never met this world’s Logan – we ran in different circles. It’s nice to meet you.”

His heart relaxed and he confidently held out a hand, ignoring the interested glance from Laura. “Nice to meet you.”

“Take a seat next to Logan,” Wade urged, winking over to his new hesitant partner. “I’m sure he can fill you in on all the fun we’ve had together. Tell her about the sex ramp we had in the car that one time.”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Logan cursed, telling you to ignore him.

“I usually do,” you laughed, thanking Vanessa for the beer she slid over from her side of the table. Popping it open, you relaxed and asked Logan how this place was treating him. “Must be weird, coming here. It’s like your world, right? Just slightly different?”

“Something like that.”

“Did we know each other back there?”

Your question seemed so invasive and frank – it almost made Logan smile because some people never changed, no matter what universe. Back where he came from, you were such a firecracker little shit. He had his hands full dealing with your bullshit. You were always running towards danger with little regard for your own safety because you had him. He had always been at your side, or at least, trying to catch up but he had always been there for you.

Logan had loved you and you had loved him.

Two reckless mutants.

Then you died and that sent him straight down a barrel of alcohol and indifference, to everyone and everything in his world. Which led to his greatest shame of all, allowing his family to be murdered because he was too busy drinking his sorrows away. He had long forgotten what it felt like to see you smile or hear you laugh, to feel your fingertips on his skin. The weight of your head on his chest as you slept, he never could replicate that feeling and yet, here you were.

A different version of you but God, the same.

“We were friends, really good friends.”

The hint of sadness in his voice was enough for you to understand and maybe not truly, but something had happened. That much was evident and while it might have been silly, you wanted nothing more than to comfort this man next to you. The room seemed to fall quiet, but no one was paying attention, except the girl next to Logan. Your eyes met hers, but she just smiled and looked away. Logan’s eyes were focused on the beer in his hands, but his eyes jerked up when a gentle hand touched the top of his. Your skin ablaze his and it felt wrong to feel like he had once when he didn’t even know you. Not this version of you, a woman he knew nothing about. It didn’t feel right but he wanted nothing more to allow this to go on. To see who you were in this world.

Did he deserve that? After everything that happened.

“Were? I won’t pry but it seems like life has given you a second chance, Logan.” You smiled softly and removed your hand from his, lifting your beer can to him. “You guys saved this world; a second chance is the least the universe can give you. Why not take it?”

Logan chuckled lowly. “The version of you I knew also had a deficiency in reasoning.”

A hard smack landed on his chest, and he laughed, which made you laugh. “Yeah, well, at least I don’t look like that idiot.”

Looking over to where you pointed to Wade, who had decided to show off his hair piece, Logan smirked. “Yeah, that’s fucking terrible.”

The two of you smiled at each other and something clicked in that moment, leaving the both of you quiet until you broke the tension. “To not looking like Wade Wilson.”

Logan clicked his beer against yours and felt a settling in his heart. Maybe he did deserve a second chance, at least, he could start toward earning that second chance. “Amen to that.”

[satoruxx]

thinking about since canonically Geto is more popular with girls than Gojo he’s gotten used to them looking past him to get to Geto but what if Gojo and Geto are out for drinks with the other teachers one night and he gets approached by the reader but he thinks she’s just coming over to ask him for Geto’s number and so he prepares his ‘responsible best friend’ act and then SHE ASKS ABOUT HIM INSTEAD, ALL BLUSHY AND STUFF BECAUSE HE LOOKED LIKE HE WAS GONNA BRUSH HER OFF

AHH I LOVE HIM SM 😔😔😔

pairing: gojo satoru x reader | 1k words summary: fluff, pining, reader is a simp but same, satoru is a good wingman but he needs attention too, au ig bc suguru's alive LMAO, idiots in love? rheya's note: oh my god shut up this is so cute and YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT??? i can just imagine that he's gotten so used to judging whether or not the person is even worth suguru's attention before deciding to pass on his info...and after a while his brain just defaults to thinking that everyone wants suguru but he FORGETS that there are gojo girlies out there (me asf) !! thanks for the ask nonnie babes i love this idea so so much <33

OK SO

it's obvious that there are quite a few women at the bar eyeing the group. young, attractive teachers spending an evening trying to relax and take their minds off of the stress of jujutsu work. nanami is in deep conversation with shoko about something while ijichi quietly listens. further down the table utahime is quietly sipping her drink while mei mei orders another. shoko makes a comment and suguru bursts into unabashed laughter.

the flush of alcohol dusts over each of their cheeks, but satoru remans the only one who has barely touched his glass, the sting of the bitterness a little too harsh for him to enjoy. he opts for instead letting his eyes roam over the faces in the crowd, taking little notice of all the eyes and smiles sent in their direction.

well until he notices you anyway.

you're already looking in his direction curiously, face illuminated by the dim lighting of the bar as your friends giggle around you. when his eyes lock with yours, you immediately tear your gaze away, trying to play it off by immediately delving into conversation, though satoru can tell that there's a flush crawling up your neck now.

he doesn't look away though, too caught up in the crinkle of your eyes and the smile lines that grace your face as you laugh at something. a minute later you're looking back in their direction, and when you catch him staring, you turn away yet again.

satoru glances to his side, knowing that you're probably watching suguru take a sip of his drink and most likely falling for his charming smile.

typical and so predictable.

some time passes like this. you'll look, and turn away, and satoru will watch you do it over and over again. it isn't until a while later that satoru catches your friends pushing your shoulders and giggling, and he knows that they're urging you to come up and ask about suguru. you're shaking your head, the nervousness clear as day as your brows pinch. but eventually you succumb to peer pressure and stand up from your table, taking anxious strides towards him.

and usually, satoru will make a face or turn his back or do something to look as unapproachable as possible. because almost every person who comes up asking for suguru's contact info has been obnoxious as hell.

but you're quite pretty and you look sweet enough, and he doesn't think it'd be right to deter you.

suguru would probably like you too.

so satoru decides to let you try at least, and if you seem to be as nice as you look maybe he'd bridge the gap between you and his best friend.

you make your way up to him, and as soon as he finally gets a good look at you he's thinking you're a lot prettier up close.

dammit.

"hi," you say, face hot as you try your best to maintain steady eye contact with him. you look so nervous, fidgeting with the fabric of your clothes as you attempt to strike up conversation, and he doesn't have it in him to watch you struggle.

"yeah i can give you his number," he says, voice clipped as he tries to hide the disappointment in it. you watch him grab a napkin and begin scribbling something down, confusion clear as he hands you the digits.

"um…?" you look at the napkin and then at him. "sorry, whose number is this?"

satoru balks, lips parting as he mirrors your confusion. "uh…suguru's? the guy behind me?"

realization dawns on your face and you shift your weight from foot to foot.

"oh actually," you suck your teeth nervously, trying to hide behind an awkward little smile. "i came to talk to you."

satoru can only blink, cerulean eyes widening behind his glasses as he stares at you in surprise.

you take his silence as a bad sign, shoulders dropping and embarrassment settling in your frown as you look anywhere but his face. "s-sorry if that's weird. i don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything so-"

he's grinning before he can stop himself, heart dangerously swelling with affection as he motions toward the empty stool next to him. "not weird at all."

the pleasant surprise on your face makes him bite back a chuckle, and you take the seat. "huh...i wasn't expecting you to be okay with it."

satoru raises a brow curiously, tilting his head. "why not?"

you shrug with a careless grin. "i had a feeling you were gonna brush me off from the moment i first looked over."

satoru winces, and he can practically feel suguru's knowing smirk on his back. he chooses to ignore that for now, eyes trailing over the mirth in your expression, and he can only smile helplessly. "no way in hell."

your laugh comes instantly, sweet and bright, and you take it as a sign to continue talking. satoru listens on, sipping his drink to hide his giddy smile and ignoring the sting of bitterness once again.

honestly, with the amount of sweetness he's just found, satoru would tolerate as much bitterness as he needed to.