#i still wanted to give my best for this prompt

[andcars]

ㅤ [ 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗪𝗘 𝗗𝗢 ]

premise. the media makes twists and turns of everything they see. to be fair, it's not like it's easy to explain your story to them. you just know you're quite satisfied to where you end up at the present

prompt # ㅤdominant carlos sainz, submissive oscar piastri, lLeaked sex tape, body worship, reader is a celebrity, pregnancy, power imbalance, baby fever [ "Wait, you’re famous?" + "Remember your safe word, I’m not fucking stopping" + “You wanted to be seen? You wanted to be caught? You’re so fucking turned on right now” ] tags #ㅤanonymous/masked sex, non-linear story wc #ㅤ 1.6k

ㅤㅤFEEL FREE TO INBOX ME FOR THOUGHTS OR REQUESTS !

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Over a year ago, there were cheating scandals everywhere including the three of you. You cheated on Carlos. Carlos cheated on you—and he’s gay! Oscar is a homewrecker. Oscar is also gay. The whole thing blew up into one explosion only to set off another one. It wasn’t possible if not for Oscar’s greatly dumb ideas that you all thought was funny at the time. Too funny, even.

A YEAR AGO AND A FEW MONTHS AGO

“You’re so fucking wet—” Carlos groaned, your pussy clenching on his cock that rams ruthless inside of you. Both his hands are grasping your tits. His grip is tight and you can feel his nails digging into your skin. “So fucking good for me,  cariño. Your body is so perfect, taking me in—like—this!” 

He was not kind. It was the opposite of the soft kisses trailing on your neck, the caresses on your hips, and the little moans on your skin. Oscar is breathing heavily, acting like he’s the one fucking—or getting fucked, you know he wouldn’t mind—in the situation. He moaned loudly when you do, looking into your eyes as Carlos is going faster and reaches deep inside of you.

The contrast of the two was almost disorienting. Carlos suddenly pulled out and you then noticed you came. “Go on top of Oscar. I want you facing him as I fuck you—Oscar keep your hands to yourself, I don’t want you touching anyone without my permission.”

Oscar nodded because that’s the only thing he’s allowed to do. You’re flipped to your front and lay limp on Oscar. He’s slightly sat against the headboard, your head ending up on his stomach as Carlos pulls you down on your cock. With a too-easy glide in your oversensitive pussy, he continued fucking you. The new position lets Oscar’s cock grind against your tits. He’s moaning and writhing subtly, panting as Carlos’ thrusts were powerful enough to give him the right friction. It didn’t give him release but it give him something.

“Look at the camera, cariño,” Carlos turned your head, “I want everyone to see your face when you cum.” You whined, wanting to look away but the red blinking of the camera got you focused. You almost felt everyone watching you then. “Fuck. Do you know how turned on you are? So wet. So—... you just wanna be fucked by us in front of everyone. So perverted.” He slapped your ass and didn’t stop until he reached his goal.

By the end of the night, you’re an incoherent mess. There’s drool on Oscar’s hips, cum overflowing your pussy and painting your tits, and your head is still too stuck on pleasure to process that it’s over. You’d say it was the best fuck you guys have but that was in Mexico last year. The two of them were on a high back then.

The squelch of your pussy is obscene. Carlos groans as he pulls his cock out, probably watching it drip down until he shoves his fingers to keep it all in. “How was it?” he asked, pretending as if he didn’t know you just fucked him that good. The heavy groan that fell from your mouth was enough for him, it made him laugh. 

“Okay then. With the footage… are we still..?”

Before he could get anything, you pulled Oscar to lay beside you and finally finish him off. He didn’t need to given permission to Carlos. Oscar was caught off guard and came all over your hand—”Shit!” he says, “I’m… Would’ve liked a warning at least.”

“Mhm,” You can barely form a single thought. “Just wanted everyone to be happy.”

“Clean up first, sweetheart,” Carlos kissed your head, patting your shoulders before hoisting you up. “I’m sure it’ll take.”

TWO YEARS AGO, GIVE OR TAKE

In the club, no one actually has a face. It’s like the rule of the place. You’re drawn in to the same masks over and over again though. Every other week, you see someone wear the ghoul and the gargoyle looking masks, all on different bodies and in different companies. However, there was a duo that consists of a ghoul and a gargoyle that caught your attention multiple times before. It seems like you’ve captured theirs as well.

On Mondays, there was a chance you will see them. On Mondays, you get to be fucked by both of them. The gargoyle is more experienced, fucks you with precision, takes the room in his control. Your hare mask was often pulled up just so that he could see the way you drool all over his cock. It should be against the rules but you never found yourself saying no to him

The ghoul, however, hovers above you and waits for permission. He will whisper praises, he will moan alongside you, he will look at the gargoyle and you like that both of you are the only things that give him joy in life. You don’t know how much that’s true.

It’s the seventh time you three meet, the first time that your masks will be taken off. It comes as a whim as the gargoyle takes the ghoul’s mask off—the other was surprised. You were surprised too. He looked… young. He had soft features and doe eyes. He looked nervous when he looked at you, almost as if he was scared that you would run away after looking at his face. He no longer feared anything when you took yours off too, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

“Do you still remember your safe word?” The gargoyle asks, his hands caressing your body. When a sharp thrust fills your pussy in one go, you’re pulled away from the kiss. He looks as if he’s enjoying your face a lot. “Don’t say stop, please, wait, if you think it’s going to do something. Say red or nothing at all, because I won’t fucking stop.”

He keeps his promise. The both of you are at his control, doing anything whatever he wants you to do. It's dizzying. All the demands and the pressure coming from him is something you wanna cherish forever. You can’t imagine anyone else to be experiencing this with. Not with how heavy his hands are, how deep his voice is, how the ghoul moans with even the littlest pleasure to him, how the ghoul grinds himself on your body and fucks your mouth desperately. This was something that was irreplaceable.

The gargoyle wore his mask until the very end. But when you came, he took his off to eat you out. He’s… mesmerizing. His eyes look fiercer without the cover of the mask. His messy long hair curls over his head as you grip on it for some control. He lets you. You’re being fucked on his tongue and all you can do is admire both of their faces for the first time.

It’s funny how you didn’t know they were Formula 1 drivers until you see their faces plastered on a poster. It was not like that mattered anyways. Your face was just across theirs on a concert advertisement. You have a date with the both of them tonight, you can admire their faces up close.

PRESENT TIME

You told the both of them long ago that you make music. They’ve seen the numbers on your Spotify. You don’t know why they’re acting so surprised when they arrive to the stadium. It’s still pretty empty except for the production crew preparing the things. You’re still comfortable in your pyjamas when you arrive with the three. They’re wearing the same comfortable clothes as you but for some reason, they’re acting too shy.

“I feel like I should change,” says Oscar, running a palm over his plain shirt and shorts. “Like I thought it was gonna be like… a more open and smaller venue?”

“Just say you don’t google me and move on, Oscar,” you laugh. He tries to say something but you’re being led down to the tech room. You have to help make sure all the right tracks are going to be played at a decent volume—not too loud but enough to be heard by everyone at a decent . Oscar and Carlos doesn’t seem to be sure of their positions.

This goes on for a few hours. You are dragged away endless times and they’re left following in your heels. Only when you told them to wait in the dressing room did they actually calm a little. Of course, that's until the fans came.

“Did you see how many people are outside?” Carlos asked, just having come back from behind the stage. “It’s completely full. You can still hear them all from here.” They're singing one of your songs, it's pretty clear from here.

“I’m happy that I bought mufflers for the little guy.” Oscar smiles. You smile too. The three of them have absolutely made your year. You look at your son in Oscar's arms, all wrapped around and ears fully covered. You made sure that the volume was all set. This was a bad idea, just like leaking that stupid sex tape just to keep all the journalists off your asses. Who the fuck beings their kid to a concert?

Carlos notices your worry lines. “Don’t worry. If she cries, we'll leave. We just can’t not attend your concert, okay? We know you’ve been busy recovering, so we want you to enjoy. Understood?” He’s kind. He’s kind when he’s not fucking you in bed, at least. It's really nice. Carlos smiles at you and kisses your forehead, patting your back.

When you leave, you briefly hear Oscar asks—”Is it bad that I never actually googled her once?”

Carlos, the saint, says, “She likes that. Same thing why she doesn’t know what a DRS is.”

@Delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @bicchaan

FOOTNOTE ────── first fic of the new year baby! hope ya'll try with me cuz ur boy is actually burning out lol. but this was nice to write n so I hope ya'll still enjoy :3

[morgana-larkin]

Alright so I got this prompt messaged to me by @dreamer-329 : Hi I have read almost all your fanfics and I love them a lot, I saw you are fine with receiving prompts and while I was listening to music this song came on and I got an idea haha

Hearing this song made me think that this would be a perfect club song for Melissa x reader, song is Mi casa su casa by Omar Rudberg, here is what i thought of but you can spin this however you see best fits, Melissa is out with some of the Abbott crew and she sees R dancing and is into them, they briefly bump into each other at the bar ordering drinks but nothing happens until R is dancing to this song and they look at Melissa(who is already watching them) and sing the lyrics while staring intently at her and dancing more provocative by every line they sing (I can see it in your eyes

This is what you came for

Baby, don't be shy

Because you got something I've been wanting

A long, long time

And I got something you've been wanting

That's no crime 'cause

You got a body

I got a body

Let's have a party

Mi casa su casa)

I thought this was a cute and smutty idea and wrote it over the holidays. I just finished it and I definitely had to edit it as I wrote most of it when I was not sober and some of it made no fucking sense. Hope you like it!

On another note: I’m working on 3 other prompts for Mel atm so be patient! Especially as I might need a moment after I saw the dress Lisa wore to the golden globes…😮‍💨

Mi Casa or Su Casa

Warnings: smut, teasing, teacher-student role play (small part)

Words: 2.6k

“I still don’t get why youse dragging me out.” Melissa complains as they all step into a bar.

“Because we all could use some fun after the week we’ve had.” Janine says excitedly and they all find a table to sit at. “I’ll buy the first round, what does everyone want?” Janine asks and everyone gives their order to her and she goes to the bar to order.

Melissa looks around the bar and sees a few people dancing to the song that the DJ is playing. She sees a few other people scattered around the bar, most in conversations with the other people at their table. Janine comes back a few minutes later and passes everyone their drink.

“Here’s to putting up with all the golf course construction.” Jacob says and they all cheers to that.

A couple rounds later and they’re all looser, even Melissa. Melissa then notices a few people walk by the table and she looks to see a few young women walking by. One of them turns around once they find a table and Melissa does a double take.

You decided to go out with your friends after you were ready to come back out after a breakup and one of your friends suggested a bar where you can all dance. You walk into the bar and you pass by a group of people at a table and then one of your friends decides on a table and you turn around to sit in a chair. You look around the bar and you notice a ginger woman staring at you and you smile and wave at her. She smiles back at you and then joins the conversation at her table.

You notice her keep glancing at you and then she goes to get up and walks to the bar. You get up with the excuse of getting the next round even though you just got the previous one and you go to meet her at the bar.

“Hi.” You say and she turns to look at you and you smile.

“Hi.” She says. “I’m Melissa.” She adds on and you shake her hand.

“I’m Y/n. Melissa is a beautiful name, it suits you.” You tell her and she smiles with a slight blush “So I’ve noticed this hot ginger staring at me for the past hour. Would you know anything about that?” You ask her and she pretends to think about it then shakes her head.

“Not a thing, but maybe she thinks you’re cute.” She tells you and you smile.

“Well I think you’re cute as well.” You tell her and then the bartender brings her drinks and she takes them.

“I gotta go bring these to my friends but maybe I’ll see you around.” She says and then walks away, with a slight sway to her hips. You watch her walk away and then the bartender asks what you want to get and you order all the drinks.

You go back to the table with your friends and then they ask you all about that woman you were talking to.

“I don’t know anything about her other than her name is Melissa.” You say to all of them.

“Then go talk to her more, or even go ask her to dance.” One of your friends suggests.

“She’s busy with her friends right now.” You tell them and they look over at the table.

“Go up and ask her to dance.” They tell you. “Or you can dance seductively and get her to come to you.” They add and you think about it and decide to do that. The next song comes on and you get up and go to the dance floor. You know the song that comes on and you also start singing as well as dancing to it.

“Well woman the way the time cold, I wanna be keeping you warm. I got the right temperature for shelter you from the storm.” You sing and move your hips along to the song. You also have your hands up in the air as well as everyone else who’s dancing and it makes your shirt go up and anyone can see your belly button. “Oh lord, girl, I got the right tactics to turn you on. And girl I wanna be the papa, you can be the mom, oh-oh.” You sing out and you quickly glance and see that Melissa is watching you and you smile before you keep dancing to the song. The next song comes a couple minutes later and you instantly recognize the guitar beat.

You swing your hips to the beat before the lyrics start and you decide to go a bit further with your seductive movements to see if she’ll come to you.

“Mi casa su casa. I’ve been watching you all night, over on the dance floor.” You sing out and you look at Melissa and you see she’s still watching you. You decide to keep your eyes on her while you still keep dancing. “I can see it in your eyes, this is what you came for.” You continue while you run your hands down the side of your body and you see Melissa grabs her drink and take a sip. “Baby, don’t be shy, because you got something I’ve been wanting, a long long time. And I got something you’ve been wanting.” You sing out and move your hips more. “That’s no crime cause, you got a body.” You sing while you point to her. “I got a body.” And then you run your hands down your chest down to your stomach. “Let’s have a party, mi casa su casa.” You sing out and turn around and wiggle your butt a little.

You turn back around and you see Melissa making her way over to you and you look back at her table and see all her friends watching her. She makes her way over to you and she puts her hands on your waist while you’re still dancing and you wrap your arms around her neck. She pushes you closer until you’re pressed up against her and the next chorus is just about to play.

“That’s no crime cause, you got a body, I got a body.” You sing and she moves her hands to your back and runs her hands all over while dancing to the song with you. “Let’s have a party, mi casa su casa.” You continue singing. “I got a body, you got a body. Let’s have a party, mi casa su casa.” She then flips you around so your back is pushed up against her front and she runs her hands down the side of your body and she starts singing the rest.

“I’ve been looking at you all night long. From over on the dance floor, I really want to take you home.” She then places her hands on your stomach and she starts taking over the dancing, making you move in time with her. “You got a body, I got a body. Let’s have a party, mi casa su casa.” She sings and then gets right to your ear. “I got a body, and you got a body. Let’s have a party, mi casa su casa.” She finishes singing the song but she doesn’t move away from you or let you move. “You wanted me to come to you.” She says and you smile.

“Is that a question or a comment?” You ask her and she gets you to turn around.

“A comment, staring at me while running your hands all over your body gave it away.” She tells you. “What do you want to happen?” She asks you and you shrug your shoulders.

“I haven’t thought that far.” You tell her and she shakes her head with a smile. “All I thought was getting the hot ginger that’s been staring at me to come over.” You tell her and then she cups your cheek and leans in. You lean in as well and connect your lips with hers. They feel fucking magical and much softer than you’ve imagined all night. You feel her hand move from your cheek to the back of your head and the other move to your waist.

“What would you say if I asked you mi casa or su casa?” She asks when she pulls away and you blink at her for a second before smiling.

“I’d say…su casa.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Let’s go grab our stuff and I’ll call an Uber.” She says and you nod before you speed walk to get your things.

“Where are you going?” Your friend asks.

“With the hot ginger to her place.” You say and then walk over to Melissa.

“Melissa, why are you grabbing your purse?” Barb asks and Melissa just smiles.

“I’ll see you all on Monday.” She says and then she grabs your hand and leaves.

“Can I stay at someone’s house tonight? Melissa is not as quiet as she thinks.” Jacob asks everyone.

You get in an Uber with Melissa and she rubs your thigh the entire time. Once you get to her place she takes your hand again and you quickly get out. As soon as she turns the light on to her house you get a good look at her and you’re mesmerised.

“You’re even hotter now than at the bar.” You tell her and you kiss her again. You trap her against you and the door and with the way her hands are all over your stomach and chest, she doesn’t mind. She then pushes you away, takes your hand and brings you upstairs to her room.

“You’re wearing far too many clothes.” She says once she closes her door.

“And what are you going to do about that?” You ask her and she smirks before taking your sweater and shirt off. You then go and take her blazer and shirt off before both of you get on the bed.

You end up straddling her lap and she unclips your bra while you’re kissing her and you help her take it off before she throws it somewhere in the room. You then unclip her bra and you throw it away without any care once you get a look at her chest.

“Do you like them?” She asks when she sees you staring at her boobs and you nod.

You go directly to her neck while you cup both her breasts and she moans into the kiss. You push her back on the bed and then you take her leather pants and underwear off. You run your hands up her smooth legs all the way up to her hips. You see her start squirming under you and you smile.

“Eager already Melissa?” You ask her.

“You were pretty much grinding on me at the bar.” She says and you snort. You then bend down and wrap your mouth around a nipple and she moans out. You switch to her other nipple and you can tell she needs it bad.

“When was the last time you had sex with someone?” You ask her and she sighs.

“A few months.” She says and you hum.

“Really? You look like someone who can’t go that long without it and someone who can get someone no problem.” You tell her.

“You’re right, and yet you’re making me wait.” She tells you and you smirk. “I mean if you won’t do anything then I’ll just- oh god.” You cut her off by circling her clit and she’s now whimpering and gasping underneath you. You’re slowly circling her clit as you want to see her slowly come undone and also have her beg for more. You watch as she squirms, trying to get her high quicker but you’re not letting her. “Please, please go faster.” She begs and you smirk before circling her clit faster.

You feel her entire body under you and you listen to her as she comes and you don’t stop. You insert 2 fingers in her dripping centre and start fingering her while circling her clit. She gasps out and bucks her hips when you insert two fingers and starts moaning at the sensitivity.

“Oh god.” She begins saying like a mantra as she gets close to her second orgasm. She squeezes around your fingers and then she comes again and she holds your hand and gets you to pull out. You then lick your fingers and taste her and you moan at the taste.

“You taste good.” You tell her and she pulls you down to her.

“You think so?” She asks and you nod. She then pulls you into a kiss and tastes herself mixed with the taste of your mouth and she loves it. “Take the rest of your clothes off.” She orders and you immediately obey. “So obedient.” She smirks as you take your pants off.

“Something about you and your tone that makes me want to obey.” You tell her and she hums.

“Wish my second graders were like that as well.” She tells you and you tilt your head.

“You’re a teacher?” You ask her and she nods. “That’s so hot.” You tell her and then kiss her.

You feel her move her hand down and then she starts circling your clit and getting you all wet before she inserts a finger in your entrance. You moan into the kiss and then she slips another one in and then starts pumping in and out of you.

“What do you find hot about me being a teacher?” She asks and you have to take a few seconds to think about what she just asked you.

“I think it’s more about thinking of you��teaching me a lesson.” You say in between moans and she smirks.

“Why would you need to get taught a lesson? Have you been a bad girl?” She asks and she feels you get wetter after saying that. She then pulls out of you and flips you both so that she’s on top. She sticks her fingers back inside of you and she smiles at you gasping and moaning. “Be a good girl for your teacher and do as I say.” She tells you and you whimper while all the moisture goes right to your pussy. “Are you that excited to be a good girl for me?” She asks and you nod. She then curls her fingers inside of you and you start seeing stars.

“I’m so close, I’m so close.” You tell her and she feels you clench around her fingers and she moans at the feeling.

“Be a good girl and come for me.” She tells you and you immediately come, like the good girl you are.

She gets in bed beside you after helping you clean yourself up and she wraps and arm around you and you both fall asleep. The next morning Melissa wakes up and sees you’re already gone and she sighs. She walks downstairs, a bit weirdly due to last night and she sees a note.

‘Last night was fun, txt me ;)

xxx-xxx-xxxx’

She reads it with a smile and immediately puts your number in her phone and texts you.

Melissa: Hey, it’s the hot ginger. I noticed there was a girl missing in my bed this morning.

She texts it to you and then she goes to get breakfast ready but then gets a notification and sees it’s from you.

You: Hey hot ginger, maybe that should be your name in my phone 😉

You: Sorry I left, I had plans with my parents this morning but I’d like to do it again sometime if you also want to as well

Melissa: Yes I’d love to, just one question

You: What’s that?

Melissa: Mi casa or su casa?

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[tkdb-hell]

None kiss request for Alan yet? We gotta change that! I'm begging for Number 19 with Alan 😩

#19 - One person stopping a kiss to ask “Do you want to do this?”, only to have the other person answer with a deeper, more passionate kiss.

Kisses Prompt List • Kisses Masterlist

(I do my best to write the reader as gender neutral unless otherwise specified - if you send me an ask and prefer masc or fem, please let me know)

♡ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ♡

The room was quiet save for the steady ticking of the clock on the wall. Alan Mido leaned back against the worn couch in his dorm room, his sharp amber eyes half-lidded, his posture as steady and composed as always. You sat beside him, not quite touching, though the air between you was charged with something electric. It was a rare moment of solitude in the chaos of Darkwick Academy, and even rarer that Alan wasn’t fiddling with his car or bogged down with responsibilities.

It had started slowly, as these things often did with him—a lingering glance, fingers brushing against one another, and then a daring shift closer. His lips had been soft and surprisingly warm against yours the first time he kissed you, catching you completely off guard with his boldness.

Now, his calloused hand cradled the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as you leaned in again. This time, the kiss came deeper, longer, a pull that tethered you closer to him. The pressure of his mouth was firm but never forceful, like he was holding back—like he was giving you the chance to take control.

You broke the kiss first, chest heaving, your gaze searching his face. His features were still—no sign of hesitation, no faltering—but you knew Alan well enough to know how carefully he guarded his emotions.

“Alan,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you want to do this?”

He froze for half a second, as if the question surprised him. His eyes bored into yours, intense and unwavering, and for a moment, you feared you’d overstepped—that maybe the question had ruined the moment. But then Alan’s lips quirked into the faintest ghost of a smirk—so subtle you might have missed it if you hadn’t been so close.

He answered with action.

Alan’s hands shifted, strong arms encircling your waist as he pulled you against him, his lips crashing onto yours with a passion that left no room for doubt. This was no tentative kiss—this was deliberate, desperate, as if he were pouring every unspoken word he couldn’t say into the connection. His hands settled on your back, broad and firm, pressing you flush against him.

And then you felt it—undeniable evidence of how much he wanted this, how much he wanted you. The hard press of him against your body sent heat shooting through you, and the intensity of it made your breath hitch. Alan groaned softly into the kiss, the sound low and deep, reverberating through you like a spark to a flame.

His tongue teased at your lips, and the way his grip on your waist tightened made your heart race. There was no hesitation, no reservation—Alan kissed you like he needed you, like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing uneven. He didn’t let go of you, his grip still steady, his body still pressed against yours. His eyes searched your face, his expression serious but laced with something more—something raw and unguarded.

“I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t want to,” he said softly, his deep voice roughened with the intensity of the moment. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering there. “Don’t doubt that.”

And then, as if to prove his point further, he leaned back in, his lips meeting yours once more, slower this time but no less passionate. His hands moved with deliberate care, sliding up your arms, his fingertips lingering on your skin like he couldn’t bear to stop touching you.

You couldn’t help but smile against his mouth, your hands curling into the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back with just as much fervor. Whatever walls Alan had built around himself, they were crumbling, and in that moment, you felt every piece of him he couldn’t put into words.

For Alan, actions would always speak louder than words. And right now, his actions told you everything you needed to know.

[hippolotamus]

For the short & impactful: "lie to me." Buddie :)

Bless you, Al for bringing some inspiration to the Hippo Cove 🫶

Buck is everywhere. Fingers interlaced with Eddie’s, pinning his hands to either side of his waist. Massive chest against Eddie’s own, pressing his back to the kitchen cabinets. Lips a scant space away, stealing and supplying all of Eddie’s breath.  “Lie to me.” Buck challenges, nipping gently at his lower lip. “Tell me none of this was real. That you don’t love this, love us.”  The ‘love me’ goes unspoken, hanging heavy in the air between them.  “I-” Eddie wills the words to come out. To do as Buck asks. To tell him that they were a mistake and it was all a reaction to moving home to LA, whole and complete with Chris. That he got caught up in the moment, all those weeks ago, choosing joy when Buck kissed him while they were unpacking boxes, and he kissed back.  “You can’t, can you, Eds? Because you don’t do spur of the moment. You don’t go around kissing just anyone. I know that because I know you. Because you have been my partner and best friend and had my back for seven years.” Buck pauses, his eyelashes fluttering in an attempt to hold back the tears making his eyes glassy. “Or am I just another Marisol? Another Ana? Someone your kid loves, so you just rolled with it. Maybe I don’t know you at all.”  “You know that’s not true, Buck. You could never be that to me. But I- we-” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut tight, unable to slow his breaths coming rapid and shallow, like an adverse reaction to the falsehood he can’t force past his tongue and teeth. “Breathe with me, Eds! C’mon, breathe with me.“ Okay, you. You’re my problem. Wanna go for the title? You don’t have to pretend with me. I’m here. What can I do? You knew I wouldn’t. What are you afraid of?  “What if I fuck this up? What if I’m still too broken to be what you need?” “Baby,” Buck soothes, resting their foreheads together. “Give yourself the chance to try. Please don’t be someone else telling me what I can and can’t handle. I can’t- I can’t take that. Not from you.” He inhales a shaky, trembling breath. “If you really don’t want this, say the word, Eds. I’ll do whatever you ask. Just please don’t force me away because you think you’re doing me some sort of favor. Please.” “Okay.” Eddie opens his eyes again, lost in the endless blue of Buck’s gaze. “I won’t.” Buck cups his cheek with one hand, nuzzling against the other. “Promise?” “Promise.”

send a prompt!

[theclowningbusiness]

A New Kind of Thunder

THIS IS MY FIRST FANFIC, A LITTLE GENTLENESS WOULD BE NICE also it was NOT beta'd

Hughtober Prompt: Thunderstorm (yes I wrote this in October, sue me)

Pairing: Worst (Best) Logan Howlett x Reader

Tropes: Cuddling in a thunderstorm

Warnings: Wade, he deserves his own warning, reader had a traumatic experience during a storm, so thunderstorms give her flashbacks <3 (had to give it some spice)

Other tags: Logan lowkey being happy and a big softie, making Logan watch a musical

Background: Usually when a thunderstorm hits, you seek out comfort in the form of watching movies or some other activity with your best friend, Wade. You knew that a thunderstorm presented no real danger to you, but it still creeped you out to be alone.

Description: When a thunderstorm hits, you walk across the hall to Wade’s, ready to invite him over so the two of you could have a movie marathon and wait it out until the storm died down and you’d be able to sleep. You didn’t expect Wade not to be home, and you’re shocked when his roommate, Logan, answers the door instead of him.

You sighed, hearing the first crack of thunder. You knew that a storm was coming. But you hoped you’d be asleep by the time it came through. Unfortunately, the knowledge of the coming storm seemed to be enough to keep you from going to sleep. Looks like you’d be spending another night watching movies with Wade on your couch.

    Getting up from your bed, you slipped on some comfy pajama pants and wrapped a blanket around your shoulders like a cape. You also slid on some socks, not wanting your feet to be cold against the floor. You walked through your apartment, walking out and across the hall to Wade’s. 

    You lifted your hand and knocked on Wade’s door before rubbing a hand over your face. You hated needing company during a thunderstorm, but in the wise words of Wade, ‘You can’t help what you’re scared of, sugar bear’.

    Hearing footsteps on the other side of the door, you thanked whatever deity was out there that he seemed to have been awake already. 

    When the door opened, you were met with a man who certainly wasn’t Wade. It was Logan, Wade’s new roommate. The two of you didn’t talk much, and you never hung out one on one. Not that you didn’t want to, you were just nervous that he would grow annoyed by your company. So, you took what you could get and settled for only spending time with him when Wade wanted to.

    You’d certainly never seen him like this. He wore a white tank that was tight across his chest along with a pair of pajama pants that were plaid. It was truly infuriating how good he looked sometimes, especially right now. It’s just pajamas and a tank, and he looks like a goddamn model. You did your best to keep yourself from drooling when you spoke.

    “Hi,” you spoke softly, not wanting to disturb any neighbors. The walls were fairly thin after all. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry, I was looking for Wade.”

    “I was already awake,” Logan assured, his voice matching yours in volume. “Wade isn’t here, he’s at Vanessa’s,” he explained.

    “Oh,” you sighed softly. “In that case, sorry to bother you,” you gave him an apologetic smile, feeling a little bad for disturbing his night. You started to turn back around and head back to your apartment when Logan spoke again.

    “What did you need?” He asked, leaning against the doorframe. “Is everything alright?”

    You turned back around to face Logan. Part of you was embarrassed to tell him the truth, but if you ever wanted to be real friends with him, opening up was going to be part of that.

    “Well,” you started, “I get freaked out by thunderstorms, it’s a long story,” you answered. “Usually when there’s a storm, Wade comes over and watches movies with me so I forget about the storm.”

    Logan stayed silent for a moment, observing you in the moonlight that came through the window at the end of the hall. You were convinced he’d never hang out with you now, not with the way he looked at you. When he went to speak, however, you would’ve sworn he almost looked nervous.

    “I could come watch movies with you,” he offered. “I’m not as talkative as Wade, but we could turn the tv up, and you wouldn’t be alone.”

    “Really?” You smiled, unable to stop it. “I don’t wanna keep you up or anything,” you hummed, you really wouldn’t want to be an inconvenience.

    “I don’t sleep much anyways,” he shrugged. “At the least, it gives me something to do since I can’t sleep.”

    “Then you’re more than welcome to join me,” you nodded, “You can pick the first movie,” you added as you turned and walked back into your apartment.

    Logan made sure he had his own apartment keys before he shut the door and followed into your place. 

    Once Logan was in your apartment, you shut the door and headed for the living room. You grabbed your remote and plopped down on one end of the couch as you turned it on. The only light was the tv and the moon coming in through the windows. 

    Logan got settled on the other end of the couch, seeming to get comfortable.

    “What do you wanna watch?” You asked, looking over at Logan. You smiled softly at the sight of him getting comfy on your couch. He didn’t seem out of place at all, it seemed natural to have him there.

    Now is not the time to be ogling Logan, but it was hard not to when he was so handsome, and the fact that he was here because he wanted to help you out made him all the more attractive.

    “You can pick,” he shrugged. “I’m not that picky when it comes to movies.”

    “Musical it is,” you snickered, wanting to see if Logan would protest.

    Logan just shrugged again, seeming to really not mind what you wanted to watch.

    You flipped through some movies, finding one of your favorite musical movies. The Greatest Showman. You just loved the story, and you had to admit the main actor was very good looking. Nothing better to distract from a thunderstorm than some singing eye candy. Thinking about it, he kinda looked like Logan.

    You pressed play, putting the remote down and curling up a little as the opening credits began.

    “What’s it about?” Logan questioned, looking over at you.

    “It’s about a ringleader forming a circus,” you hummed. “He brings it up from nothing. It’s set in the 1800s, so you’d fit right in,” you joked.

    “Don’t tell me you’re gonna be worse than Wade tonight,” he shook his head, a barely there smile forming at the corner of his mouth.

    “Guess we’ll find out,” you snickered, giving him a playful shrug.

================

    You were about halfway through the movie, and the two of you were both invested. You were laying down now, your head near the armrest and your legs curled up on the couch next to Logan. He still sat in the seat he’d started in, but he seemed to relax into the couch a little more, one arm over the back of it.

    The storm hadn’t been bothering you too much so far, but it seemed as if that was ending now.

    A loud crack of thunder boomed, and it felt like it shook the windows of your apartment. You sat up, looking out the window. 

    “Hey,” Logan spoke, trying to get your attention away from the rain pouring against your window.

    You turned to look at the man, shifting your attention to him instead of the rain.

    “You alright?” He asked, surprised by your reaction to the thunder. 

    “Yeah, it just caught me off guard,” you answered. Before he could reply, a lightning strike lit up your living room, followed by another, louder, roll of thunder. You jumped again before sighing. You could feel your chest getting tighter.

    Logan scooted a little closer after you jumped this time, placing a hand on your shoulder.

    “It’s okay,” he spoke. He was never the best at comforting, much less so when he used his words instead of actions.

    You nodded, taking a breath. You leaned into the couch, trying to relax again. It was short lived, however, when another lightning flash filled the room, the thunder following.

    Before you could even think about reacting, Logan was pulling you closer, his arms holding your shoulders protectively.

    “It’s only a noise,” he hummed, his voice quiet. “Not gonna hurt you,” he added.

    You laid your head against his shoulder as he held you. Closing your eyes, you tried to focus on the sound of him breathing evenly rather than the rain pounding outside. Slowly, you let your breath sync to his, the slow breaths helping you to relax.

    “There you go,” he said, still keeping his voice low.

    His voice almost reminded you of the thunder rolling outside. You could feel the rumble of his words in his chest when he spoke. But this thunder wasn’t frightening. It was soft and comforting, like being wrapped in a blanket straight from the dryer. 

    Logan pulled away after a moment, and you tried not to seem too disappointed. He picked up on it anyway, and was quick to reassure you.

    “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, a small smile on his face. “Just thought there were more comfortable ways than me hunching over to hold you and you bending your neck to lay your head down,” he explained. You were sure that was the most words he’d ever said to you     consecutively.

    He laid back on the couch, patting his chest and opening up his arms, inviting you to lay against him. You hesitated for a moment, and he seemed to gather what was worrying you.

    “I’m a mutant with a metal coated skeleton,” he let out an amused breath, “I’ll be fine if you lay on me.”

    You couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the way he put it. You pulled the blanket over you both as you laid across him, your face tucking against his neck.

    “Comfy?” Logan mumbled, wrapping an arm around your middle. 

    “Mhm,” you hummed out. After a moment, you spoke again. “Can you keep talking?” You asked, hoping he wouldn’t find it too odd.

    “Why?” He asked in return, but his voice was more curious than any sort of upset.

    “Your voice distracts me from the thunder,” you replied, closing your eyes.

    “Oh,” he hummed, his chest rumbling as he did. “What do you want me to talk about?”

    “Whatever you want,” you answered. He could be reading the dictionary, and you’d listen to every word. “I’m sure you have plenty of stories to tell.”

    Logan thought for a moment before starting to speak, telling you a story about a time that he’d worked as a lumberjack in the late 70s. He went on, telling you that he’d been living in a cabin in the Canadian Rockies. 

    You listened intently as he spoke, committing every word to memory. It sounded like a rather nice place to live. The life he described was simple and filled with much less trouble than the life of a hero.

    As he spoke, you felt yourself growing sleepier and sleepier. He’d started rubbing your back about halfway through the story, and it was definitely helping you keep your mind off the storm.

    “‘M getting tired,” you mumbled out, your cheek squished into Logan’s chest.

    “Go to sleep,” he replied, “I’ll be here when you wake up,” he added, “Hopefully the storm will be over by then.”

    “Can you keep talking’ til I’m asleep?” You asked softly.

    Without agreeing or denying, he just picked up his story where he left off, making you smile.

    It wasn’t long before you were passed out on top of Logan, breathing evenly as you slept. Logan looked down at you, smiling softly at the sight. Maybe tonight, he’d finally get a good rest too. With that thought on his mind, he closed his eyes and let himself doze off, his arms wrapped around you protectively.

================

    Logan woke up later than he typically did the next morning, but it wasn’t like he had anywhere to be anyway. He let out a sleepy hum as he blinked open his eyes to look down at you in his arms. A small smile made its way to his face as he saw you were still fast asleep on his chest.

    As if the universe wanted to say ‘fuck you’ to Logan, Wade walked over and into Logan’s view. 

    Logan blinked a few times, almost like he was trying to will Wade out of the room.

    “Well good morning, sleeping beauty,” Wade spoke, too chipper for Logan, as usual. He was munching on a muffin that he’d clearly stolen from your kitchen.

    “The fuck are you doing here?” Logan huffed, but kept his voice down, wanting to let you rest after being up the previous night.

    “Stealing food, clearly,” Wade lifted up the muffin to emphasize his point. “My turn. What are you doing here, peanut?” He hummed, sitting down on the small coffee table that was in front of the couch. He placed one elbow on one of his knees and propped his now tilted head on his hand. “You never hang out with each other, and now I come over and catch her napping on your chest like you’re a big pillow. Totally jealous, by the way, I’d pay to lay on those thick tits of yours.”

    Logan rolled his eyes. Somehow Wade never seemed to run out of things to say that would annoy him.

    “I’m here because you weren’t,” Logan replied. “It was storming last night and she came over looking for you. When I answered the door and asked what she wanted, she told me and I offered to watch movies with her.”

    “That’s cute and all,” Wade nodded, “But that doesn’t explain why she’s cuddling up to you like she’s done it a hundred times before.”

    “Do you ever stop asking questions?” Logan complained.

    “Nope, now spill or I’ll wake her up and make her tell me instead,” Wade whined petulantly.

    “Okay, fine,” Logan sighed. “There were a couple big booms of thunder and she got scared, so I was holding her. She seemed to calm down so we just moved to get more comfortable instead of sitting up. We fell asleep like that, then I woke up and my absolute worst nightmare was here,” he jabbed at Wade, deadpanning.

    “Oh you so have it bad for her,” Wade teased with a grin.

    “I do not have it bad,” Logan argued.

    “You don’t?” Wade raised one brow. “Tell me then, would you cuddle me because I was scared?” He questioned.

    Logan stayed silent, unsure how he was supposed to answer that without flat out lying, which he knew would end in Wade insisting he gets cuddles at some point.

    “Uh-huh, that’s what I thought,” Wade snickered softly. “You should just ask her out,” he hummed before taking a bite of his muffin.

    “Not happening,” Logan shook his head. “There are too many reasons why I shouldn’t do that.”

    “Oh come on,” Wade complained with his mouth full before swallowing and speaking again. “Why not?”

    “It would just put her in danger,” he reasoned. “Nothing ends well for anyone I care about,” he added, sighing softly. “That’s the last thing I’d want to happen to her.”

    “You care about me, and I’m fine,” Wade grinned.

    “You also can’t fucking die,” Logan deadpanned. “I’m serious, I don’t want to be the reason she’s in danger.”

    “You say that like we wouldn’t both murder someone who tried anything,” Wade hummed. “Nobody hurts my best friend, and I’m positive that nobody would end up alive after trying something on Wolverine’s girlfriend.”

    Logan stayed quiet, looking down at you on his chest. 

    “Fine, I’ll think about it,” he decided. “But don’t you dare say anything to her about how I may or may not feel.”

    “May or may not my ass,” Wade rolled his eyes, standing up. “I’m going back to my place, if you two fuck, try not to let the whole complex hear you,” he joked as he headed towards the door.

    “Fuck off, Wade,” Logan grumbled out, but he seemed to relax again when he heard the door close behind Wade. 

    As much as he hated it, he had to admit that Wade may be right.

================

    Ever since the night of the storm, you and Logan had gotten closer. You hadn’t been too close, like hugging or cuddling again, but you hung out more. He’d come over and have dinner and then watch whatever movie you decided to put on. Occasionally, you dragged him out to go see a movie you wanted to watch in theaters or get ice cream when you felt a craving for it.

    You’d certainly grown to fall for the man. Before, you knew he was handsome and just all around attractive, but now that you knew him even better, you were well and truly fucked. Even if you did have feelings, you’d never mention it, not wanting to end up back at square one and without him as a friend.

    The most interesting change was the pet names he seemed to add to the end of every other sentence. It came out as if it was second nature when he spoke to you. Honey, babe, sugar, sweetheart. Each time he used one, your stomach fluttered.

================

    It was about four months after the initial storm and Logan was sleeping, unaware of the raging storm outside. It was even more intense than the last.

    He woke up when he heard a loud crash. He sat up straight, worried that some sort of danger was near. He sighed when he realized it was just thunder, laying back down.

    “Stupid fuckin’ storm,” he grumbled to himself, closing his eyes to go back to sleep. It seemed to hit him only when he said the word out loud. It was storming outside and you were probably in your apartment, terrified.

    He got up quickly, going to check first if Wade was still in the apartment. He found Wade fast asleep, curled up with a stuffed unicorn. He felt a little bad about being happy that he’d be the one to go help you.

    Rushing out of the apartment, he made his way across the hall and knocked on your door. When he got no reply, he grew more worried. He hurried to go back to Wade’s and grab the spare key to yours he now knew that Wade kept on the table near the door. Once he grabbed the key, he was back to your door, unlocking it and pushing it open.

    He called out your name softly, not wanting to wake you if you were already asleep. He assumed that you must be until he heard a small sob coming from down the hall. He’d never been so thankful for his advanced hearing.

    Walking quickly, he made it to your bedroom, the door already open. There was a lump on your bed under your blankets and he assumed it was you. He walked in, sitting down on the edge of your bed. 

    “Hey, it’s me,” Logan’s voice was soft, “I’m here.”

    Slowly, you poked your head out from the blanket and looked at Logan. It was like seeing him flipped a switch. You flung the blanket off of yourself and nearly tackled Logan with a hug. If it weren’t for how strong he was, you would’ve both probably tumbled off the bed.

    “Woah, woah,” Logan kept his voice quiet as he wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “You’re alright, it’s alright.” He lifted one hand to run through your hair.

    There it was again. His voice like a sweet version of the thunder that rolled just outside your window.

    You cried softly against his shoulder for a few minutes, slowly calming down now that Logan had arrived. Just like last time, you focused on his even breathing and mirrored it. Eventually, the tears stopped and you just sniffled quietly.

    “You could’ve come over to get me if you were this scared, honey,” Logan said as he rubbed your back in slow circles.

    “I wanted to,” you said softly. “But the thunder was so loud and the rain was pelting the window. I just got so overwhelmed, it felt like I couldn’t move.”

    “Alright,” Logan nodded in understanding. He knew what it felt like to freeze up. “I’m here now,” he added, laying his head against yours. “I won’t go anywhere until you feel better.”

    “Will you stay again?” You asked softly, shyly.

    “Of course,” he nodded, letting go of you so you could get comfortable.

    You slipped under the blanket of your bed, then held up the blanket for Logan to join you.

    He did as you wished, getting under the blanket and laying down next to you. Gently, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you to his side. 

    Your arm rested on his shoulder while one leg tangled with his. You were convinced that this was the safest you’d ever feel. 

    “I never asked,” Logan started. “Is there a reason thunderstorms scare you? I asked Wade, and he told me I should ask you instead.”

    You stayed quiet, and for a moment, he was worried that he’d overstepped with his question. He was about to try and backpedal, but you spoke.

    “The worst day of my life,” you started, “It was during a huge storm. Now when it storms, and the thunder cracks, it’s like I’m back there again. I have to relive the hardest day of my entire life.”

    If anyone knew what that was like, it was Logan. Half the time when he slept, he was reliving the day he lost everything. Now it made sense in a way he could understand.

    “I didn’t realize,” Logan sighed. “‘M sorry,” he added, feeling a little bad for making you talk about it.

    “Don’t be,” you shook your head. ��I wanted to tell you anyway, I just didn’t know how,” you admitted. “I’m glad you asked me.”

    Logan didn’t say anything else, just wrapping his arm around you a little tighter.

    “You came without me asking,” you said quietly, tilting your head to look up at Logan.

    “I woke up and it was storming,” Logan spoke, looking down at you. “Wade was still home, so I figured you were here alone and wanted to come check on you. I know you don’t like being alone, so I came over. I’m glad I did.”

    “I’m glad you did too,” you agreed with a small smile. You were sure your eyes were still puffy from crying, most likely a little red, too. Part of you was embarrassed that Logan was seeing you like this, even when it was mostly dark, but the other part of you knew that Logan probably didn’t even think twice about it.

    Logan gave you a small smile in return. You were so happy that he’d started showing himself to you a little more, you loved seeing his smile and hearing his laugh.

    “Thank you,” you added, realizing you hadn’t said it until just now. “For coming over because you knew I’d be scared.”

    “Don’t have to thank me,” he shook his head. “It would’ve been shitty if I’d have just gone back to bed when I knew you needed someone.”

    He sounded so sincere that it felt like your heart was being squeezed. Without another thought, you leaned up to place a small kiss on his cheek, a small show of your gratitude. When you pulled away, you laid your head back down against him.

    “What was that for?” Logan chuckled, one side of his mouth turning up.

    “For being here,” you shrugged, “Since you won’t take my thank you, I thought I’d give you that in its place.”

    Logan rolled over onto his side so he was facing you. He then pulled you up so the two of you would be eye to eye. He looked at you as if he was trying to commit every detail of your face to memory. It made your cheeks grow warm.

    “Can I talk to you about something?” He asked, his voice serious, but not so serious that you grew worried about what he had to say.

    “Always,” you nodded. 

    “The first time I came over, when Wade wasn’t home, I didn’t know what I’d be getting into,” he admitted with a small smile. “The next morning, when I woke up, you were still asleep and Wade came waltzing into the living room and he and I talked.”

    “Oh god,” you interrupted. “Tell me he didn’t say anything embarrassing,” you joked.

    “No, nothing embarrassing,” he assured, resting a hand on your hip. “He actually told me to do something, and at first, I told him I never would, because I was scared of hurting someone,” he sighed. “But he convinced me to think about it, and I’ve been dwelling on it every day since.”

    Logan went quiet, and you thought that he almost seemed…. Nervous.

    “What did he tell you to do?” You spoke softly, wanting to give him a nudge and let him know he could open up to you. “Who did you not want to hurt, Lo?”

    “You,” he finally got out. “I didn’t want to hurt you. He told me to just ask you out already, and I said no because the people I care about usually end up getting hurt. But I kept fucking thinking about it, and I know that I’d do everything I can to keep you from getting hurt.”

    You weren’t sure what to say. The very last thing you had expected him to say was that he wanted to ask you out.

    “I’m obviously not good with words,” he huffed out a breath. “I just need to say it. Do you wanna go out with me, sweetheart?”

    You swore you could feel the palpitations as the words finally left his lips.

    “Yes,” you grinned, lifting a hand to hold a side of his face. “I’d love to go out with you, Logan,” you leaned up to press a gentle kiss on the end of his nose, which he scrunched up in response.

    “I promise I’m not going to let you get hurt,” he assured as he leaned in, resting his forehead on yours. “I’ll keep you safe. From thunderstorms, or from anything else.”

    “I know you will,” you replied, “I feel safe, right here in your arms,” you smiled, cuddling into him a little more as if you were trying to prove your point.

    “I’ll hold you whenever you want, honey,” he hummed, pressing a kiss to the bridge of your nose. “Anything to make you feel safe.”

    “Doesn’t just make me feel safe,” you grinned. “Makes me feel happy, too.”

    “Oh yeah?” He asked, his voice just on this side of teasing. “Good thing I’d do anything to make you happy too.”

    “Anything to make me happy?” You questioned, sliding your hand down from his face to his chest, “I think a kiss would really make me happy.”

    “I did say anything,” he chuckled, leaning in until your lips brushed. “Absolutely anything for my girl,” he added before pressing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss that you both sighed into.

    When he pulled away, it was just enough to breathe, close enough that your lips still touched when you spoke. 

    “Your girl?” You spoke, barely above a whisper. “I think I could get used to that. That would make you my guy, huh?”

    “Yeah, I’ll be your guy, babe,” he chuckled quietly. “Any day of the week.”

    “Just in the days?” You joked, acting as if you were offended.

    “Christ, you and Wade are going to kill me,” he huffed playfully. “I’ll be your guy any time you’ll have me.”

    “That’s more like it,” you laughed quietly, pecking his lips.

    The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, when you realized something.

    “It’s not storming anymore,” you smiled. “Guess you distracted me from the storm.”

    “Told you I’d keep you safe,” he grinned.

    “I think I know why it works so well when you talk,” you said shyly.

    “And why’s that?” He asked.

    “Your voice, it’s low and I can feel it in your chest when you talk,” you began. “Reminds me of the thunder, but it’s gentle and even instead of overwhelming. So when you talk, it’s like a whole new kind of storm that I can focus on.”

    “I’d be glad to distract you anytime,” he teased, pecking your lips.

    “You know, you should come stay the night sometime when I’m not having a panic attack,” you joked.

    “I think I’d like that,” he agreed. “Wade’s never gonna let me leave without interrogating me though.”

    “I’ll come over when you’re about to leave, I can try and get him off topic,” you chuckled. “All I’ve really gotta do is mention Vanessa.”

    “What if I don’t mind people knowing where I’ll be?” He asked.

    “I’d say that it’s very sweet and that I don’t mind either,” you smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth.

    “Kiss me like you mean it, none of the corner of the mouth shit,” he complained, but based on the smile on his face, he was only teasing you. 

    Opting not to reply, you leaned in, pressing your lips on his. You hadn’t expected his lips to be as soft as they were, but you supposed it made sense when his skin healed itself.

    You pulled away slowly, letting out a content breath and scooting down so you could press your face against his neck.

    “You smell good,” you commented casually as you closed your eyes.

    “Glad you like it,” he chuckled, tucking one arm under his head while the other kept you against his chest.

    The two of you continued to steal soft kisses and trade laughs until eventually you were being pulled under into a nice sleep.

================

    Logan took a deep breath as he woke up. In the night, you’d managed to turn over, so he was now the big spoon. He grinned, pulling you closer back against him. 

    Without warning, Wade’s head popped up over your side of the bed, a smile on his face. 

    “Why the fuck are you always here when I wake up?” Logan complained, letting a sigh out of his nose.

    “Because you’re always here when I come to check in after a storm,” Wade answered, standing up and revealing that he was wearing a tie dye onesie. 

    “Well she’s fine, you don’t have to check up on her anymore,” Logan assured. “Now get out so I can go back to sleep,” he huffed.

    Wade completely ignored Logan. Typical.

    “So did you two finally do it last night?” He asked, already heading to the door, praying Logan wouldn’t get up to beat the shit out of him.

    Logan didn’t get up. Instead he leaned over and grabbed the alarm clock on your bedside table and threw it towards Wade.

    Wade dodged it, grinning like an idiot as he ran out and through your apartment so he could exit the front door.

   “What the fuck was that?” You groaned out sleepily.

    “Nothin’,” Logan answered, wrapping his arm back around you. “Just your alarm clock breaking against the wall.”

    “Do I want to ask why you threw it or not?” You questioned, turning around and pressing your face to his chest.

    “Wade,” he answered simply.

    “Got it,” you nodded, “No need to explain.”

    Logan chuckled and leaned down, pressing his lips to your forehead.

    “Wanna go back to sleep?” He hummed out.

    “Now that I’m awake, I was thinking maybe we could go get something for breakfast,” you shrugged, looking up at Logan with a lazy grin.

    “I could go for breakfast,” he nodded. “Let me hold you for a little longer first,” he added, squeezing you even closer to him.

    “I could go for that,” you copied his words, laying your head back down.

    Logan grinned, just looking at you laying your head on his chest. Yeah, he could get used to being a new kind of thunder for you.

[stellarspecter]

@strangerthingswritersguild Daily Prompt 1/7/25: Browser History

Pairings: steddie, platonic stobin | Word Count: 895 | Rating: M (for mentions of sexual activity)

divider by @/saradika-graphics

Read on AO3

Eddie sat down on the couch and opened his boyfriend's laptop. Since his own was out of commission for a little bit, they were sharing for the next however long it would take for him to get his computer fixed. It was weird to be using someone else's computer — especially since Steve still used Chrome, ew — but it was better than being relegated to just his phone for weeks. It felt cramped to do everything on such a tiny screen.

Eddie was, as always, looking for a new guitar, and he'd heard there was a new Les Paul model out, so he opened up a new tab and typed in ‘L-E-S’.

Autocomplete popped up with Steve's recent suggested searches:

Lesbian porn Lesbians scissoring Best lesbian porn Best website for lesbian porn Lesbian strap-on Lesbian pegging Lesbian butch on femme Lesbian femme on femme Lesbian threesome

Eddie stared at the screen unblinkingly for several seconds. He knew Steve was bisexual, but… this was a little much. Especially for a man who had confessed to being much more into men recently, due to his boyfriend of a year and half and all that. 

Maybe he was missing being with women? The thought twisted something in Eddie's stomach.

Did Steve feel like he was missing out being with Eddie? Was he unhappy? Was he looking for someone else?

The very man in question walked up behind him, a cup of coffee in his hand as he slumped down on the couch next to him.

“Hey, babe,” Steve said, and leaned over to give him a peck on the cheek. “What're you — oh.”

Clearly, Steve had seen what was on the screen.

“Yeah, oh,” Eddie echoed. “What's this all about?”

Steve shrugged, seemingly unbothered by Eddie finding his porn preferences. “It was for Robin.”

…Honestly, Eddie should have thought of that.

“You watch porn with Robin?” He said incredulously. He just couldn't imagine that. And how could he not know? They'd been dating for over a year. They'd talked about what porn they watched. Hell, they'd even watched some together. Steve had never mentioned Robin.

Steve just shrugged again. Did he not see how weird this was? “Yeah. Haven't you ever watched porn with your friends?”

Eddie sputtered. “Wh— Why would I — No! Of course not! Steve, I'm gay, none of my straight friends would want to watch porn with me!”

Steve paused. “Okay, that's fair,” he conceded. “But I promise it's not a weird thing for friends to do. Me and Tommy used to do it all the time.”

Eddie snorted. “And let me guess, it was an excuse to jerk each other off but say no homo because you were jerking it to women.”

Steve flushed. “No!” He paused. “Hands stay to yourself, everyone knows that.”

“Oh my god, jerking off in the same room is still not a straight guy activity!” Jocks were so dumb and gay. How did they live like this? Eddie wondered in despair.

“I'm not a straight guy! I know!” Steve countered indignantly. “And anyway, that doesn't matter for me and Robin. Obviously she doesn't want to jerk me off and I don't want to do anything she's uncomfortable with.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “But she's fine getting off in the same room as you?”

“I mean, she wasn't at first,” Steve explained. “She used to be really skittish about it. But after a while, we were both getting worked up enough while watching them and just kind of stopped caring.”

Eddie was silent for a moment. “So let me get this straight,” he started. “You and your lesbian best friend have been getting together to watch — I'm assuming just lesbian porn?” 

Steve nodded. “I mean, she doesn't really want to see guys.”

“So then why are you there — nevermind, I know you'll say something weird,” Eddie sighed. Steve pouted and mouthed something that looked like ‘emotional support jock’ to himself. “You and your lesbian best friend have been getting together to watch lesbian porn together, and sometimes jerk off in the same room together, for… some period of time that's longer than I think, probably, and you haven't even told me about it?”

Steve's face, which had been amused through Eddie's breakdown, dropped at the last line. “Oh shit, was I supposed to tell you? I'm not cheating on you! It's Robin!”

“I know you're not!” Eddie exclaimed. “It's just like… I don't know. Would be nice to know what kind of porn my boyfriend likes. Could take some pointers.” He shrugged, all of a sudden self-conscious.

Steve bundled him in his arms, kissing him pointedly on the lips. “Trust me, you don't need any pointers,” he whispered. “And I watch different stuff on my own anyway.”

“Good,” Eddie whispered, and got distracted kissing his boyfriend for a little bit. 

After they had untangled and settled back down on the couch, ready to actually look at guitars this time, Eddie finally asked, “So how did you start watching porn with Robin anyway? Seems kind of out of left field.”

Steve shrugged and leaned his head on Eddie's shoulder, watching him scroll through listing after listing of expensive guitars. “Movie night,” he said simply, like that was enough of an answer. 

And maybe for anyone else it wouldn't be, but for Steve and Robin? There was nothing else he needed to say.

[emotionallychargedtowel]

Favorite QL Characters of 2024

Thanks for tagging me, @wen-kexing-apologist! And thanks to @abstractelysium for getting the ball rolling with some solid end-of-the-year prompts.

Mitsuya Ayumu, Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding/Mitsuya Sensei no Keikakuteki na Edzuke

I love it when a character really has their shit together in some admirable ways but also has big things to learn. Mitsuya has so many things about life figured out, which is part of the reason Ishida first gravitates toward him. But for all his wisdom and competence in some areas, in others, he's been avoiding facing his fears and challenging himself for way too long—until meeting Ishida starts to change things. I have a particular love for this character as a middle-aged BL-watcher. Mitsuya has ten years on me, but he's still way closer to my age than most BL leads. I hadn't realized how much I wanted—maybe needed?—to see an older protagonist in a BL until I watched this series.

Of course, Yamazaki Masayoshi's performance, and his considerable personal charms, helped a great deal too. His approach to the role was so naturalistic that it seemed like important attributes of Mitsuya's, like his self-acceptance and vulnerability, must be things Yamazaki shares. Who knows, maybe he does. But conveying these things onscreen remains a matter of acting talent and the result is a joy to watch regardless.

There's a moment that really exemplifies this. Although I wasn't pleased that the show didn't include a kiss, there was a moment right when Ishida was about to kiss Mitsuya (before they were interrupted) that I absolutely adore. Ishida makes one last declaration of his feelings and asks if he can stay with Mitsuya, who assents and says, "Enough. I surrender." And he does. He doesn't turn into a "blushing maiden." He doesn't go all floppy (not that there's anything wrong with that). It's a different kind of surrender. When Ishida grasps his shoulders and moves closer, Mitsuya tilts his head a little, looks down, and gives a little shy smile. Then Ishida touches his face and he closes his eyes and lets his head fall further to the side and there's just this quality about him in that moment that is so soft and trusting and unhurried—vulnerability and confidence coinciding again, Mitsuya at his best—that evokes something sexier and more romantic than any number of BL kisses I've seen this year.

Hatano, Zettai BL 2024 (Zettai BL ni Naru Sekai VS Zettai BL ni Naritakunai Otoko)

Regular readers may have noticed that I have a bit of a fixation on this character. I collaborated on a fansub largely because I wanted to see his scenes get translated. I wrote a four-part series of posts about him. Part of the reason for this is undoubtedly that he was played by one of my all-time blorbos, Sekoguchi Ryo. But Hatano also just stands out among the other Zettai BL characters. I mean, there's a reason the series of posts I wrote about him was called What's Different about Hatano. Of all Mob's suitors (and there are a lot of them), he's the only one besides Kikuchi who manages to get to know Mob and spend time with him. He's also the only one of Mob's suitors, period, who shows some awareness of Mob's other life as the main character of a show about living in BL World (albeit in an ambiguous way). And then there are all the other reasons why his approach to pursuing Mob and the way he's situated in relation to Mob make him unique...well, it's all in the posts.

Hatano's uniqueness in the Zettai BL-verse isn't the only thing I appreciate about him, though. At the end of the day, he just makes things happen and keeps things interesting. He pulls off the BL-within-a-BL storyline with aplomb. And I enjoy the way he has this icy, unflappable, unattainable persona with his peers but falls apart and turns into a flustered, agitated wreck around Mob.

Of course, I think Sekoguchi Ryo was wonderful in this role. A big part of playing Hatano is acting like you're in a dramatic scene when you're in a comedy, but sometimes a scene needs the level of deep commitment one would offer in a drama and sometimes it calls for something with a slight undercurrent of irony (without detracting from the genuineness of the character). Sekoguchi walks that line pretty much perfectly. He both sold me on Hatano's sincerity in funny scenes like the fantasy sequence where he responds to Mob's efforts to pawn him off on another teenager by curling up in his lap (!) and broke my heart in the fake angle kiss scene. But I wouldn't have expected any less.

Hayama Asami, 25 ji Akasaka de

I have to admit, I went into 25 ji Akasaka de wanting and expecting to like Hayama. After all, he's played by Komagine Kiita, another favorite actor of mine. (Komagine and Sekoguchi Ryo starred together in Kikai Sentai Zenkaiger and their characters had a well-developed shippy relationship there, which has a lot to do with how much I like them both.) But I'm pretty sure I would have been fascinated with Hayama even without that bias. I love a good mid-series point-of-view revelation, and Hayama had a doozy of one. He ended up being one of the most psychologically complex characters I saw in BL this past year. I'm also a sucker for pining, and Hayama pines with the best of them. The episode 9 scene where Shirasaki hits on him with the pretense of needing acting help, forcing him to choose between pushing away the person he wants or being intimate with him in a way that's apparently meaningless, is a contender for the angstiest scene of the year. And I always enjoy when a character who's a huge pining, angst-y mess on the inside seems all cool and together on the outside (see above re: Hatano). With all this, it's no wonder I love Hayama. I don't think it's just my bias talking when I say I think Komagine knocked this performance out of the park. He impressed me immediately with his versatility, since Hayama is almost the complete opposite of his cinnamon-roll-on-speed character from Zenkaiger. He kept impressing me, after which the point-of-view switch episode was another step up. But it was the opening scene of episode 9 that really showed me what he was capable of. Komagine's performance was so subtle, immediate, and affecting that my respect for him went through the roof.

Shirasaki Yuki, 25 ji Akasaka de

Yep, I'm including both leads from this series. That's just how strong the series as a whole is, in my view.

Shirasaki has gotten a bad rap at times. It's understandable—Hayama is a (justifiably) beloved character and Shirasaki puts him through the ringer. Personally, I think he did pretty well given where he was at the beginning of the series and the circumstances he found himself in—including a carefully devised misunderstanding plot that, as @ginnymoonbeam demonstrated in a post on the subject, was written in such a way that his conclusions about Hayama were reasonably well-founded and not just the result of insecurity gone wild or something even more senseless (as occurs in a lot of BLs that are written with less care). But even if you think Shirasaki is a dick, he's still an interesting, vividly-drawn character who's frequently relatable even as he makes choices viewers find frustrating.

One of the aspects of Hayama's point-of-view reveal that I enjoyed the most wasn't about Hayama himself, but the side of Shirasaki that Hayama is able to see more clearly. When Shirasaki's point of view dominates the story, he emphasizes his insecurity. But when Hayama's does, we can see that Shirasaki has a kind of deep conviction about things that can come out in the form of a strident confidence that helps to balance out his self-doubt and self-effacement.

I may be partial to Shirasaki for another reason. I'm going to preface this by saying that this is just my take on this, and a rather tentative one at that. But since it's a real factor in my feelings about Shirasaki, I think it's worth mentioning. I have some significant people in my life who have autism and I've been exploring whether I may belong in that category myself (combined with my already-diagnosed ADHD, just to make things extra complicated). At the very least, I have quite a few attributes in common with autistic folks. You can probably guess where I'm going with this. To me, Shirasaki seems pretty autism-coded. He has strong opinions, to the point where they could seem rather black-and-white, but another way of looking at this is that he has carefully considered his stance on things and once he forms his views, he sticks to his guns. He's really observant about people in some ways, but comes off (to neurotypical folks, at least) as dense in others. (Boy, does that ever sound familiar.) These ways of thinking, and the social weirdness that they can sometimes entail, are very relatable to me and not something I see represented in media all that often, even when characters seem to resemble autistic folks in other respects.

I still yell at the screen sometimes when Shirasaki makes mistakes in this show. But at the end of the day, I think he's a well-written and engaging character, and I have an abiding fondness for him.

I should mention that this character wouldn't be nearly as compelling if Niihara Taisuke hadn't done such a good work in this role. Shirasaki is sensitive as hell and not great at masking, so his face is an open book a lot of the time. Niihara does a great job of giving the audience something to read there.

5. Fukaya Kai, Perfect Propose

Just as I went into 25 ji with an agenda to like Hayama, I went into Perfect Propose with an agenda to like Hirokuni. I loved Kaneko Shunya in Ultraman Trigger and was excited to see him in this role. And I did like Hiro very much, and I was impressed with Kaneko's portrayal. But what I wasn't expecting was how much I would like Kai.

Part of it is just that Kai is a type of person I don't see very often in BL specifically or media generally. He's a direct, forthright guy, but doesn't show a ton of affect in his face or his voice. Whereas a lot of BL lead characters are pretty neurotic, Kai generally doesn't waste much thought on things that aren't truly important to him. He doesn't always share what he's thinking and feeling, but he also doesn't beat around the bush. One of the most striking examples of this is the time he offers to jerk Hiro off to help with his insomnia, but he also shows this tendency in other ways that grab the viewer's attention a bit less. Kai does have his share of insecurities, even if he doesn't show them very often. But his abiding faith in Hiro and their potential to be good partners to each other is sincere. Being so direct and so steadfast means that Kai is remarkably trustworthy, something that Hiro eventually grows to understand.

So Kai doesn't resemble a lot of BL lead characters. But he does resemble real people I've known in my life. I think part of the reason for this may be subtle gender coding that comes into play in BL writing. It's not inherently feminine to express your emotions, of course, nor is there any contradiction between masculinity and emotional expression. But there are more stoic types of masculine presentations that we don't see portrayed in a sympathetic light in romance plots that often, and stoic masculine people can have a particular kind of charm.

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Nomura Kota's performance in this role. It's really restrained in a way that actually seems like it would require a lot of effort, particularly when you see in promotional settings that Nomura is much more animated than his character. Not that he shows that effort onscreen—he just seems like Kai.

honorable mention

Tanaka Kazuhito, Living with Him/Kare no Iru Seikatsu

In the end, this series didn't really do justice to this character or to Sato Ryuga's admirable performance in the role. It seems to have fallen victim to some adaptation pitfalls, from what I've heard. But when this show worked, Kazuhito was fascinating, complex, and endearing, and Sato brought him to life with a combination of restraint and subtle intensity that got stuck in my head between episodes.

characters whose shows I watched for the first time this year

Ai Di, Kiseki: Dear to Me

What is left to say about this dude that hasn't already been said? He's one of the most highly concentrated characters ever to appear in a BL. If a typical BL lead were a glass of fountain soda, Ai Di would be yanking the tube out of the back of the machine and drinking straight syrup. And he wasn't even one of the leads! But he's not reliant on screen time. In a system full of gas giants, he's a little neutron star whose gravitational pull draws audience members' attention to him so strongly that his supporting character status becomes irrelevant. He's the littlest meow meow, the babiest girl, the most chaotic gremlin. A walking ball of trauma whose picture should be in textbooks next to the definition of disorganized attachment. And I haven't even gotten started on the outfits. I was a bit behind the zeitgeist when I watched Kiseki early this year, but I made up for lost time by getting an intense case of brainrot and engaging in some seriously excessive rewatching. Like so many other Kiseki appreciators, a big part of my interest in the show was driven by Ai Di.

It's impossible to talk about this character without acknowledging the seriously remarkable job Louis Chiang did in this part. I don't think Ai Di would have been nearly as fascinating if a different actor had played him. Chiang showed so many sides of Ai Di and every single one of them was so vivid and fascinating. That much-discussed intimate scene is his pièce de résistance, but it's just the tip of the iceberg. I'm sure I'm not the only person who is watching with great interest to see what Chiang does next.

Sky, Love in the Air

I didn't know what to expect going into Love in the Air, which is part of the reason I didn't watch it sooner. The second half of the series ended up blowing me away in a lot of respects. It has its issues, certainly. Sometimes the portrayal of Sky's trauma history and its present-day effects verges on being sensationalistic enough to feel exploitative, though it never crossed that line for me. But for the most part, I found that it resonated with my experience as a survivor of partner abuse and sexual violence to a remarkable degree.

Sky was written well, with a rare degree of understanding of interpersonal violence and the effects of trauma. But the character wouldn't have worked nearly as well if not for Peat's sensitive, nuanced performance. In a show with a lot of oversized characters, Peat wasn't afraid to dial things down in a way that ultimately made a bigger impression.

I'm going to be thinking about this one, and probably rewatching it, for a while!

character from a non-QL

Daichi, Ossan no Pantsu ga Nandatte Ii Janai ka!

For the first part of Ossan no Pantsu, Daichi functions primarily as a way for Makoto to learn and become a better father, partner, and boss. For a while there, he's in danger of becoming the gay equivalent of a "magical Negro," albeit one so adorable and wise beyond his years that it's tempting to ignore the fact that he occupies such a role in the story. Then Daichi turns out to have his own challenges—significant but ultimately manageable problems that Makoto sometimes exacerbates, but eventually helps with, rendering their relationship less one-sided. But it's only in the final arc of the show that we see that Daichi has been carrying around a much more profound wound than was hinted at before that point—and now Makoto, thanks in part to Daichi's help, is able to provide real support as he copes with its effects.

This progression works well to support Makoto's journey through the story and then afford him an opportunity to prove how far he's come by returning the favor, but it never felt contrived to me. After all, I've run into my share of overfunctioning young people who have done an admirable job of making up for the support they didn't get from one or more of their parents and ended up with a lot of valuable perspective that belies how much unresolved hurt they're carrying around. It's a type of person one is more likely to run into in queer communities given the risk of parental rejection that comes with it, so it's no coincidence that Daichi fits that bill completely.

Nakajima Sota seems a bit green to me in this role, like he's still working through a little bit of stiffness. He's charming enough that I hardly noticed this while I was watching OnP, though, and he seems to show growth as an actor just through the course of the series. He's a great fit for the part regardless, bringing a degree of warmth and charismatic sparkle to it that helps to justify why a stubborn middle-aged man would put so much stock in the opinions of a college student.

[nameuserlee]

Sylus — Night of Secrecy 💋❤️

❤️- Screenshots -❤️

❤️ - Kindled scene below the cut + my thoughts/rambling -❤️

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Uhm. Wow. Just, wow. My sincere congratulations to Sylus and MC, the kiss card finally came and so did they, hallelujah.

I still can't believe this card is real, though. I'm genuinely dizzy, and I mean that in the best possible way. Because it’s sooo perfect. 10/10. No notes. Would swipe for again in a heartbeat.

I didn’t really know what I wanted their first kiss to look like. But I know that whatever I could’ve imagined wouldn’t have been nearly as good as this was. Now let me yap about this!

MC finally gets to bring Onychinus' leader to her place! After learning he needs a place to crash for 3 days before leaving for “business”, MC very generously offers her apartment as a safe house, both to keep him close and to figure out where he’ll be going since he won’t tell her (for her safety, of course).

And my god, these 3 days of them living together are the cutest, most domestic thing I’ve ever had the pleasure to read.

Shopping for groceries together, getting him his own pair of house slippers, him using (all of) her body wash. Sylus being in her space feels right, despite the smaller doorframes and treacherous bathroom cabinets.

(Grown ass man needs us to blow on his boo-boo. ADORABLE.)

But nevermind how cute this is, the situation is still unusual. Sylus and MC’s worlds kinda clash, despite how well they now get along and how much they care for each other. They are both aware of this, and no matter how fun this little play-pretend is, it’s going to have to end soon.

On their drive to the supermarket, Sylus prompts MC with a question: “When you’re in danger during a mission, do you think of anyone?” And the exchange that follows means a lot to me.

“But after my dirty work is done, I’ll wash my hands before going home.” I need this line tattooed across my forehead.

Sylus can’t leave his life back in the N109 zone, but he also doesn’t want to give up MC. And above all else, he wants to keep her safe. He tries to keep her away from his actual “business” as much as he can (which explains why he refuses to tell her where he’s going after their 3 days together).

If it weren’t for the N109 zone being risky for him to stay in right now and MC very conveniently proposing her place, he definitely would’ve found somewhere else to crash.

And so his best way to protect her while indulging their desire to see each other is to promise to “wash his hands before going home.” Whenever he gets to come back to her, he is not bringing his work to her. He will not allow himself to carelessly “taint” her life with his lifestyle. Very sweet, very thoughtful, very mindful (are we still saying mindful in 2025?) .

I’m gonna fast forward to their last night together/the kindled scene because I fear I could talk about every single line in this card.

Where to even begin.

BEST PROMPT IVE EVER SEEN ARE YOU KIDDING ME??

MC initating the kiss means everything to me. Thinking back to their first meeting, it’s him forcing her to resonate with her. Now, she’s pretty much the one who sets the pace in their relationship, which leads to this beautiful first kiss. It’s just too good.

“You really don’t want me to leave?” NO SIR SHE WANTS TO CLIMB YOU LIKE A TREE SHE WANTS YOU BAD and there’s no more denying it. She’s been worried sick throughout the whole card about him, trying to make the most out of their time together, and now that it’s down to the last hours, she wants it all.

And when things start to get heated, our consent king doesn’t only ask her once, but TWICE if she wants to do it.

And it’s soooo HOT!

In the kindled, he hopes MC hasn’t changed her mind, since she kinda nudges him away right after saying yes. He wants this to happen just as badly, but no matter what he’s always, always going to put her first, and so he checks in again with her.

Is this the bare minimum? Well yes! But I still think it’s worth noting. Especially if, again, we compare to how cold he was with her at the beginning of the relationship and how he was forcing her to go along with what he wanted.

Consent is sexy, asking for confirmation is hot as hell. 12/10 would smash again.

[starppleb]

I need more Danny ‘No more hero’ Phantom, so here I will be reasoning why he’s an Anti-Hero (in Dp x Dc prompt)

Danny doesn't see Death as the worst thing. He's too familiar with it (He is Death).

Sometimes it's better than 'living'. It's like a 'new beginning', a chance to let go like he tried to he did.

He left hero things with everything in his hometown. Where no matter what, he's been The Villain, The ghost, the menace. 

People Humans only see in him what he did while being mind-controlled or forced to. Not that he saves them every day. They are afraid of him, of his power. 

Just how are people still like Superman and other heroes who are more powerful than regular humans? They get mind-controlled and forced to be evil sometimes too.

That isn't fair. 

And while They chose to save other people's asses because they wanted to, Danny didn't have a choice, if he didn't step in, the town would be destroyed in days. 

He hoped that his parents Fentons would finally realize why ghosts were coming into town, but they just blamed Ghost Boy for all of the wrongdoings and never considered they were wrong. 

So after 2 and a half years of hope, he burned out and just destroyed the portal, cleared out all of the ectoplasm, and left.

Now if ghosts wanted to 'visit' living they needed to go to Danny and personally ask.

This means no more Technus 'I will take over the world' and Emder 'I will make everyone love my music by mind-control', and just Technus 'I'll only check new tech stuff' and Ember 'I'll hang out with Kitty in the park and play some guitar', of course in more human form.

Danny himself decided to stick around Gotham because one - Bats are interesting, and two - ectoplasm (which he tries to clear out, at least a little bit). 

So now he messes with Bats and humans while he's Anti-Hero - Phantom.

And gets yelled at by people at Batburger while he's a regular worker - Danny Nightingale. 

But what will the Justice League do when Phantom will save the world from some big bad ghost with impressive ease, and just leave…

That powerful being is not just some generic troublemaker in the streets of Gotham.

He's the end and sawing of the world (and Infinite Realms). 

[maulfucker]

So fucked up that obimaul is a rarepair. What do you mean not everyone is obsessed with enemies to lovers with a Force connection, where one side is completely obsessed with the other who barely acknowledges him (but is just as affected)

[lordgrimwing]

Glorfindel the Child Lord

[for Glorfindel Week, hosted by @glorfindelweek, Day 2, a companion piece to Glorfindel the Child Balrog Slayer]

“My King?” Glorfindel said. “You sent a message?”

Turgon’s office was small and intimate. The council room and other official and ceremonial rooms in the spiraling tower were large and opulent as only the Noldor could be, but he liked his private room small and tastefully decorated with a handful of meaningful items. There was something about conversing in these rooms as opposed to anywhere else that made Glorfindel feel completely seen and understood, even if he was not always called here for the most pleasant of discussions. 

Turgon looked up from his armchair by the window. He held a book in one hand and an elegant glass of some russet drink in the other. The gold woven into his hair flashed in the setting sun as he raised his head. “I see the message found you. I wondered how long it would take.”

“Yes,” Glorfindel agreed, conscious of the flecks of dirt on his clothes that threatened to fall onto the pristine rug. Maybe he should have taken the time to change first. “The courier should be commended: she let no great feat daunt her.”

Turgon smiled and gestured at the seat across from him as he set the leather-bound book on a side table. “Nor mountain cliffs, I suspect. Calatail more than earns her name. Please, sit.”

“I dare not, for my tunic is soiled. I am quite happy to speak on my feet.” He pointed at one of the various muddy marks to illustrate the risk he posed to furniture. He really should have changed, and maybe washed his hair, too. He doubted Turgon had expected him, the lord of one of his houses, to arrive several hours late and covered in dirt and detritus. He wasn’t doing a very good job at this lord business, was he?

“Laurefindelë, a little dirt will not harm the upholstery. Sit.” Turgon said it with a serious but teasing tone, mixing Sindarin with Quenya. 

Glorfindel did so, settling himself on the edge of the seat and touching as little of the cushion as possible. Turgon definitely noticed but refrained from commenting further, which was a relief. He did not want to disobey his king, but also, he really should have made himself presentable. He wasn’t a child anymore.

“Now, Glorfindel,” Turgon said, relaxing back into his seat and into casual Quenya, using the Sindarin version of his guest’s name, which he knew the young lord preferred. “From all appearances, I will assume Calatail had to retrieve you from your House’s fields in the northern glen-”

Glorfindel kept his mouth shut. That was not true at all and he was fairly certain Turgon knew he hadn’t been anywhere near where he should have been. It wasn’t that he was trying to shirk his new duties, and he understood the weight of responsibility the title of Lord gave him—he grew up watching his parents bear that responsibility. Sometimes he just wanted to run off and leave it all behind. He couldn’t though, so he’d compromise by climbing as high up the precipice surrounding the secret city as he could. He knew he shouldn’t do it but he did.

“-and that our meeting slipped your mind while you were thus occupied.” Turgon’s voice was calm, his face untroubled, but he was without doubt giving gentle chastisement. 

It would have been better, Glorfindel thought, if the king had reprimanded him with sharp words, or demanded an explanation for the tardiness. He would have if any of the other lords kept him waiting for so long. He had much to do and little time to wait for dawdlers. 

Glorfindel cast his eyes down and clasped his dirty hands in his lap, attempting to look duly chastened, even if he didn't feel it. He knew he should do better, could treat his title with all the gravity it deserved (he'd seen his parents bear it with all the honor they could, even during the hardest parts of the March) but he knew he’d do this again, and he couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry about it. He would try to not miss another meeting, at least.   

“We’ll put that behind us,” Turgon said kindly. “I wanted to discuss your House’s contribution to the Festival of Trees.”

Glorfindel straightened in his seat. This was about his House; he needed to represent his people well. This was one thing he couldn’t fall short of. “Preparations are well underway. We have dual responsibilities with guarding the fourth gate, so I’ve broached the possibility of collaboration with the House of the Fountain for the tournaments.”

“Very good,” Turgon said with a nod. “As usual, Idril is organizing special events for the children.”

This was clearly the reason he wanted to meet with Glorfindel.

“In years passed, you’ve assisted her with that.”

“Yes,” Glorfindel agreed. Idril recruited him to shepherd the younger children—mostly products of the Long Peace before the construction of Gondolin—from activity to activity. He liked it. The formal festivities were nice, especially once he was old enough to appreciate the more solemn bits, but he always looked forward to gathering up the children to meet Idril.

Turgon smiled again but his lips were thin, like he was about to say something and did not fully like the taste of the words. “I’ve asked that she find someone else to help her this year and going forward. With your new responsibilities, I thought it best to relieve you of that burden so that you can focus on your House.”

Glofindel did not slump in the seat. He did not let his shoulders drop with disappointment because he was not disappointed. He really wasn’t. He knew this would come eventually; he wasn’t a child anymore, and he could name at least three elflings who’d happily take up the honor of working with Idril. Still, a pang of loss shot through his chest at the finality heralded by the king’s words.

He’d given up his childhood when Turgon placed the lordship on his shoulders.

(his memories of the ceremony tasted like smoke from the Nirnaeth Arnoediad and salt from the tears on his face, his parents’ absence a bleeding wound inside his chest)

“My deepest thanks,” he said past the lump in his throat. “I might have forgotten about the conflict until the celebration was upon us. I will write a letter for Idril to thank her for allowing me to work with her for so long, and suggesting new candidates to fill the role.”

“I’m sure she’ll track you down herself in the coming months.” Turgon’s expression was once again relaxed, the challenging part of the conversation over. 

She would, wouldn’t she? He wondered how long he could avoid it without being rude. Idril was nothing if not determined (that was one of the things he admired about her when he was young).

There was another pause, but this time Glorfindel had nothing to contribute to the silence other than his own. 

Turgon’s tone changed again when he opened his mouth, going from the king he had become in Beleriand to the family friend Glorfindel vaguely recalled from Valinor. “Lordship is a great weight I have asked you to shoulder. How are you doing, Laurë?”

“I am learning a great many things.” Glorfindel didn’t know how much more he could bring himself to say. “And as you’ve seen, schedule management is still a trial. My King,” he stood, “if our business is finished, might I beg leave to depart? I’ve just remembered I have a House meeting to preside over that starts in half an hour. I promised my steward I wouldn’t be late this time.”

Turgon looked taken aback at the sudden change in the conversation. He looked up at the young lord from his seat. “That was everything pressing. Please, go if you need.”

Relief filled the parts of Glorfindel’s body not already flooded with painful memories. He spun on his heel, no longer caring if his clothes shed debris on the rugs, and hurried from the office. He barely caught the king’s promise that they’d talk again soon. 

He left the palace tower as quickly as he could, nearly tripping on the stairs in his haste to be out and away so he could find a quiet spot to recompose himself. The House meeting wasn’t as imminent as he’d said, but he didn’t have enough time to hide the evidence of tears from his steward if he started crying now. 

(she’d been his parents' steward since Valinor, and she’d watched him grow up)

(he feared he was disappointing her with his struggles to fill his father’s shadow as Lord of the House of the Golden Flower)

He tucked himself away in the unused space behind a bakery. Sitting very still, he focused on the tantalizing smells coming from the open windows rather than the memories of the day the battered, fractured army came back from the Nirn.

[katyspersonal]

Surprise 3 AM headcanons post! I know I like joking that the anti-Rom character is Simon conceptually, but in fact, Karel/Caryll is probably more fitting for the role!

Simon's thing is unveiling the corruption and the crime that is already there, and Rom (antagonistic) parallel only works under pushing her concealment as protecting Micolash's crimes particularly! But 1) Brador already exists for the archetype and 2) lore focuses rather on Rom concealing Eldrich Truth in general, because what Byrgenwerth unleashed is too much for the low-insights, and Mensis could just take advantage of it!

I already talked in my other post how Caryll seems to be free of all bias, since his runes include Kin and Beast ones, Church and Vileblood ones even? But that's basically what he is...? Consider: he disregards restrictions of both the institutions and the ethics of infodumping the "unprepared" people with the knowledge they might be not even able to use for good! Whether they will be responsible or succumb to hubris, his job is to deliver the information. I love to think Byrgenwerth + Church were the ones to prohibit some runes (like Beast), and that Caryll believed in teaching Runes language to everyone whereas Byrgenwerth, and then Healing Church wanted to gatekeep them only to their brightest (like Ludwig and Adeline who could see their own Runes). Rom though? Under assumption that she even understands what she is doing, her barrier is only penetrable for those with high Insight, so only for those who are "ready"!

Maria, too, is close enough, but she seems to be disappointed in the concept of learning too much altogether. I just think this is funny to think that all most important Byrgenwerth scholars had very unique and clashing position. Caryll standing by revealing the information with a disregard for whether people are ready, Rom sparing people the horrors unless they are ready, Laurence choosing FOR others what they should know feeling qualified, Micolash believing in providing truth in its most horrifying form but only to people he deems worthy..... and then Patches, Yurie and Willem simply learning with the help of the Great Ones while preserving whatever humanity they can like normal people vjhcjgjvng

But yeah, the best scholars are basically like those memes where several people point guns at each other xD Especially those three.. Rom seems like the only "nice" one, the most detached from the concept of deciding for others ����👀

[three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat]

I miss when I could write :(

[whumptober]

WHUMPTOBER 2024: PROMPTS LIST

Welcome to Whumptober 2024 — Seventh Time's a Charm!

Please make sure to read the Event Info and FAQ below carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

This year's playlist can be found here.

The 'Anatomy of a Whumptober Prompt' post can be found here.

And our 'Resources for Writing Sensitive Topics' post is here.

We’re very excited to see the community come together for another year of Whumptober! Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(Text versions of the prompts, as well as event information, rules and FAQ are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2024 Prompt List

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK

Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)

No. 2: TRUST ISSUES

Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.” (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE

Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS

Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)

No. 5: SUNBURN

Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY'RE INJURED

Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES

Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION

Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)

No. 9: OBSESSION

Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.” (Fall Out Boy, Irresistible)

No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD

Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."

No. 11: SEEING DOUBLE

Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.” (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs)

No. 12: STARVATION

Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | "Just a little more."

No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY

Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part." (Set It Off, Partner's In Crime)

No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD

Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted” (tiLLie, kooL aiD mAn)

No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA

Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

No. 16: NECROSIS

Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."

No. 17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO

Ruined Map | Shipwrecked | "We had a good run."

No. 18: REVENGE

Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.” (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor's New Clothes)

No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL

Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)

No. 20: EMOTIONAL ANGST

Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."

No. 21: BODY HORROR

Body Horror | Tattoo Gun | Spirit Possession | “Let the bedsheet soak up the tears.” (Apparat feat. Soap & Skin, Goodbye)

No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES

Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | "Oh that's not good."

No. 23: FORCED CHOICE

Public Display | Broken Pedestal | "I'm doing this for you."

No. 24: RADIATION POISONING

Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure | “I never knew daylight could be so violent.” (Florence + The Machine, No Light, No Light)

No. 25: SURGERY

Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good."

No. 26: NIGHTMARES

Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.” (Poe, Haunted)

No. 27: VOICELESS

Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

No. 28: DENIAL

CCTV | Exposure | "They caught me red handed."

No. 29: FATIGUE

Labyrinth | Burnout | "Who said you could rest?"

No. 30: RECOVERY

Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?"

No. 31: ASKING FOR HELP

Therapy | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well." (Elliot Lee, Alive, Not Well.)

Alternatives List:

Body Swap

Communication Barrier

Finding Old Messages

Forgotten

Friendly Fire

Motion Sickness

No-Holds-Barred Beatdown

Regret

Secrets Revealed

Shivering

Survivor's Guilt

Time Loop

Used As Bait

Venom

Vermin

Event Info & Rules

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is “flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be a reference to an ‘old flame’ - an old relationship. It’s truly down to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks. There is also a list of 15 alternative prompts that can be subbed in for any day, again to give participants as much creative freedom as possible.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag it with:

#whumptober2024 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)

#bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#altprompt …..(if you use an altprompt, tag the post with the number of the prompt you replace)

#fandom or #OC, …..(ironman, original content, oc, etc.)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself)

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed. This is based on trust and we will not check this.

Frequently Asked Questions

Please read this before you send an ask!

TIMELINE

July: Trope voting form released. Late August: Prompt list is released for at least four weeks of preparation time. Tropes cannot be posted earlier than August 25th because of Moderator obligations in real life. (But, you know, go ahead and start writing/drawing, and add the themes in later, if you want!) September: Do as much or as little on your works as you want. You can prepare everything in advance or let September go by with vibes and start working in October. It’s up to you. October 1st: Challenge begins! A storm of whump breaks upon us all! During this time, some posts will be reblogged to the whumptober archive blog. We open the yearly AO3 collection for posting (optional). November 1st: The challenge is officially over! Completionist form opens for those who want to be included in the hall-of-fame. Early November: We release completionist and participant badges, solicit feedback, and post a hall-of-fame list of completionists by the 10th.

PARTICIPATION AND COMPLETION

Q: What counts as participation? Create or continue at least one work inspired by one of this year’s prompts. Q: What counts as completion? Creating work(s) inspired by at least one prompt from each day (or alts), for a total of 31 unique prompts. Q: Do I need to create 31 works? No. You can, if you want. Or you can create one work that you add to every day with a new prompt. Or several works that combine prompts. You can also update an existing work by adding new material with the current prompts. Q: Do I need to post my works somewhere to be a completionist or a participant? No. Q: How do you know I actually completed the challenge? We’ll take your word for it! Q: Do I have to finish my work(s) to be a completionist? No, you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish them in October, but if you want it to count towards being a completionist, you must have completed 31 prompts by the end of the month. So for example, if you’re writing a long fic and you fit 31 different prompts into the writing you did in October, it’s okay if that fic isn’t finished by the time October ends, you’ll still be a completionist. Q: Is co-writing/illustrating allowed? Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you. Q: Is there a min/max limit on word count for written works? No. Q: Is there a min/max limit of quality for art? No. Q: Do I have to do something each day to be a completionist? No. You can skip days whenever you want, and as long as 31 daily prompts (or alts) are in your works done in October, you can be a completionist. For example, if you wrote a 1000-word ficlet that covers prompts in days 2, 3, and 17, you can check all three days off your list even though it’s only one work. Q: Is this challenge just for fics? No! Artworks, GIFsets, headcannons, rec lists, poetry, moodboards, or any other creative work is encouraged. Q: Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges? Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

PROMPTS

Q: How do the prompts work? There are FOUR prompts per day: a theme and three ideas. You can use one, two, three, or all four prompts for each day. If you don’t like any of the daily prompts, you can substitute one of the ALT prompts instead. Q: How strictly/literally should we interpret the prompts? As literally or as figuratively as you want. For example, if the theme is WATER, that could mean drowning, waterboarding, raining, swimming, take place underwater, be lost at sea, construct a metaphor about a character’s mood that changes like a flowing river, crying, or whatever else you can think of that fits that theme. Q: Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many? No limit and combine as many as you’d like. If you create a work that checks off multiple prompts, that work will count for a fill of multiple prompts. You need to address 31 different prompts to be an official completionist, but you don’t have to produce 31 separate works.

WORKS

Q: What’s whump? Hurting a character, whether that’s physically, emotionally, intellectually, psychologically, or any other way you can think of. Comfort afterwards is optional. Angst is emotional whump, so it counts. Q: How do I know if it’s whumpy enough? If your character is just mildly inconvenienced, it probably needs more whump. However, no participant has to prove whumpiness to the mods. Whatever you write is up to you. Q: What kind of characters can I create for? Anything. Generic “whumpee,” OC, PC, NPC, major characters, minor characters, or whatever you want. There are no limits. Q: Does it have to take place in a specific fandom? No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want. Q: Can I create AI-created works? We will not reblog or promote any works we know to be generative AI-created. Q: Is there anything we’re not allowed to write? As long as it contains whump and is based on our prompts, it’s fine. Please courtesy tag your works if you post them so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences. Q: What about sex, minor characters, and potentially disturbing content? You can create whatever works are legal in your country and post them accordingly. Please courtesy tag anything you think might be objectionable if you post to Tumblr so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences.

POSTING

Q: Where can I post my work? Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive. There is an AO3 archive for Whumptober 2024, as well as the parent collection for works completed outside of the event. Q: Can I start posting early? You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? We won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st. Q: Can I post late? Yes. For the sake of our hardworking Post Fairies, only a day’s themes will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive each day of October. But you can post whenever. Some of us are still working on and posting Whumptober fics from years ago. Q: Do I have to use your tags? Only on Tumblr and only if you want us to reblog your work on @whumptober-archive. Q: How do I have my works reblogged to the archive? Properly tagged posts will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive. If you want the official archive blog to reblog you, post on Tumblr and tag correctly (see this FAQ link for more info on tagging). Please note not all posts will be reblogged each day. Q: Can we @ you? For questions and comments, of course. We’ll be getting a flood of notifications, so if you really want us to see something send an ask. Q: Can I cross post on other blogs? Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable, as long as they allow cross-posting (to us). You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once. If you post some works under your main and others under an alt blog, that’s fine for completionist purposes. Q: Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms? Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there, which can be found here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the personal boundaries of any whumpers in your social circle (don’t out anyone as a participant who would prefer not to be outed).

Most importantly, have fun, create, and enjoy all the whump posted this October!

[punkshort]

Just Friends

Thank you @brittmb115 for this prompt!

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Accompanying your friend Javier to his holiday work party seemed simple enough until it gets a little too hard to just pretend to be dating.

Warnings: language, fake dating, one bed trope, sexual tension, jealousy, flirting, cigarette use, alcohol use, friends to lovers, reader has insecurities about her looks, fingering, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex

WC: 6.4K

dividers by @saradika-graphics

"Please, cariño, it's just one night. The party's at a casino about two hours outside the city. The DEA paid for hotel rooms 'cause they're worried about people drinking and driving. We'll be back by noon on Saturday, you'll still have your whole weekend to mope around over Travis," Javi begged as he followed you around your kitchen.

"Trent," you corrected with a glare over your shoulder. Javi just waved you off.

"Yeah, whatever. His name doesn't matter anymore, now does it?" he countered with an arched brow. You frowned and continued to put your dishes away.

Javier was right - Trent's name didn't matter anymore. Not after he dumped you out of the blue, two weeks before Christmas. He probably didn't want to buy you a gift, Javier had said when you called him up crying. It wasn't exactly the most comforting thing to hear, but at least he made you laugh.

"And why is it you don't want to attend this event by yourself? I thought you would have wanted to take some poor secretary back to your room for the evening," you said, flipping the dishwasher closed before playfully adding, "This better not be some sick move to try to get into my pants again." Javi pulled out his carton of cigarettes and began to anxiously tap it against his palm. When you whisked by, you smacked it out of his hand with a warning: do not smoke in my house.

"You've made it very clear I won't be touching your pants, hermosa," he chuckled, recalling a handful of failed attempts to get you into bed before giving up entirely. "But, uh, I've been taking one too many secretaries home lately," Javi admitted with a lopsided grin. "Got one real pissed at me for not calling her back. Had to make up a lie that I had gotten back together with an ex, so..."

Your jaw dropped and you stared daggers at him with your hands on your hips.

"So not only are you asking me to go with you to this party, but I'm supposed to pretend we're dating?" you clarified, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. When he nodded sheepishly, you tossed your hands in the hair and began to curse under your breath.

"Oh, come on! It won't be that bad! It's not like she's gonna say anything. It's just for looks. Hell, you never know. Maybe you'll meet someone at this thing. I could be doing you the favor of a lifetime," he said before hopping up to sit on your kitchen island. You smacked his knee when you walked past and he grinned.

"I have barstools, you know."

"Yeah, but I like it up here. Better view," he winked and jutted his chin towards your v-neck shirt.

"Gross," you scowled, making him laugh. He took a handful of nuts from the bowl on your counter and shook them in his hand like dice.

"So? What's it gonna be? You in?"

You watched him tip his head back, pouring some peanuts in his mouth, and you sighed. What the hell. You didn't have anything better to do.

"Fine."

Javier jumped off the counter excitedly. "Thank you! I owe you one!" he exclaimed before heading for your door. "I gotta run. I'll pick you up around noon on Friday. And, hey - bring a dress. The party is a little formal."

You rolled your eyes and groaned, then shooed him out your door. "Thanks. Now I have to figure out a damn outfit."

"You're the best!" he shouted happily from his car. You shut your door and turned around to sag against the wood, finally surrounded with silence. Something you thought you were craving until you had it, and then suddenly you realized you had never felt more alone in your life.

"Where the hell is this place?" you asked, staring out the passenger seat of Javier's jeep. It felt like the car kept climbing higher and higher, and the way your ears were popping, you were thinking your hunch was right.

"It's a hotel slash casino up in the hills," he said with a nod towards the open, winding road. "Supposed to have a hell of a view."

"Yeah, guess so," you muttered, then gasped when a clearing came into view and you saw just how high up you really were. "Oh, my god! Javi - look!"

"I'm driving, cariño," he reminded you with a smirk, but his eyes still flickered quickly over the ridge.

"Wow," you said breathlessly. The view was spectacular. Miles and miles of hills and trees surrounded a sprawling hotel/casino. If you were closer to the edge, you would be able to see a lazy river snaking around the bottom of the mountain.

"Alright. So what's the story?" you asked when you settled back in your seat. There was still a ways to go until you reached the casino, but you could see it from the road nestled into the landscape.

"What story?"

"Our story," you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You told a girl you got back together with an ex. So, why did we originally break up?"

"Oh," Javi said, scratching his chin. "I don't know. You really think it matters?"

"Maybe. Who knows? Probably a good idea we at least talk about it," you shrugged.

Javi thought about it for a minute before snapping his fingers. "You wanted marriage and I didn't."

You made a face and shook your head.

"That would imply we're on the path to getting engaged. You really think you can fake a whole marriage because you pissed off a girl at work?"

"Yeah, good point," he mumbled before falling quiet to think about it some more. After a few minutes, he came up with another idea. "How about you were gonna move away for a job and we didn't want to do long distance, but the job fell through and you stayed?"

You nodded slowly, rolling the idea around in your head.

"Yeah, that's good. That'll work. Then one day to explain why you're single again, you can say I got another job offer out of state or something."

"Exactly."

"Alright. Easy enough," you hummed, then turned to gaze out your window again. Javi watched you for a few minutes out of the corner of his eye, his jaw working back and forth while he tried to come up with the right words to express his gratitude.

"Hey, uh," he said, clearing his throat. You turned to look at him expectantly. "I just wanna thank you again. I know you're going through a tough time and all that-"

"Don't mention it," you said dismissively. "It's not a big deal. Plenty of guys out there, right?"

Javi gave you a tight smile. "Yeah. Sure."

One thing that you didn't have a chance to fully think through was the sleeping situation. As Javi checked you in and you heard the girl at the front desk confirm one king sized bed, you felt yourself stiffen. He signed and grabbed the keys, then shot you a warm smile before gesturing towards the elevators. From the looks of it, Javier didn't mind one bit. Then, of course, it was Javier...

"No funny business," you declared when you entered your room and Javier flopped down tiredly on the huge bed. "You stick to your side, I'll stick to mine."

"Whatever you say, cariño," he replied with his eyes closed. "I'll be reminding you of that later tonight when you're all over me after a few drinks."

"That was one time and I told you I was sorry!" you exclaimed, cheeks burning from the memory.

Your relationship in the past with Javier was... complicated. When you first met, it felt like you kept seeking each other out at all the worst times. Whenever you made a move, he was unavailable, and vice versa. Eventually, you had decided to just be friends and left it at that. And it worked well. You had an easy relationship where it felt effortless and natural to go to the other with some exciting news, and sought a shoulder to cry on if something bad happened. It just seemed to work better without the romantic element.

All of that aside, at the crux of the issue was you were a romantic, through and through. You liked being in long term relationships. You enjoyed the comfort and peace it brought. Javier, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. You couldn't even remember the last time he brought the same girl out for drinks more than once and you had a suspicion he had never been in love.

"I'm just messing with you. Can't help it, I like when you're all flustered," Javi said before sitting up with a groan. When he stretched, you found your eyes drifting down to where his shirt rode up, revealing a small sliver of bronzed skin. You swallowed and forced yourself to look away because no matter how many times you reminded yourself it would never work between you, it didn't stop you from being unbearably attracted to him.

It was the confidence that he exuded. That was what you had finally decided was the thing that kept you drawn to him in a decidedly less-than-friendly way. But of course, you were quick to remember you weren't the only one who was attracted to his charm. Half the women in the city noticed it, too. You had just gotten very good at hiding it.

"What time's the party start?" you asked, hauling your duffel bag onto the bed so you could begin to unpack your toiletries. The first thing you did was take out the dark red slinky dress you bought so you could steam out the wrinkles with the iron packed away in the coat closet. What you didn't notice was the way Javier's eyes greedily locked onto the fabric while you moved around the room.

"Uh..." he murmured, his pulse quickening when he saw the plunging neckline of your dress. "That new?"

You furrowed your brow and turned around. "Yeah. I didn't exactly have anything suitable so I went shopping. Why? You don't like it?"

"No, no... it's perfect," he assured you. Javier blinked a few times, snapping himself out of it, and looked at you. "Very... festive."

You grinned and hung up the dress on the back of the bathroom door. "Thanks. I thought so, too. So... the party? What time?"

"Oh, right. Cocktail hour starts at five, dinner's at seven then dancing or whatever til who knows when."

You glanced at your watch and made a face after you did a quick pass with the iron.

"I better get in the shower, then," you said, grabbing your things. Javier leaned back onto the headboard and flicked on the television with the ease of a man who didn't intend on putting in much work on his appearance for evening. However, once you finished your hair and makeup and stepped out of the bathroom in that damn dress, he suddenly felt like he should have tried a little harder.

"Maybe I should put something in my hair," he muttered, his fingers flicking through the dark locks as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. You appeared in the doorway of the bathroom looking way too fucking attractive to be his date, let alone masquerading as his girlfriend. Your brows pinched together as you looked at his hair and it took every last ounce of willpower not to let his eyes fall to your cleavage in that tight dress.

"I think your hair looks good," you said. When you reached up to fix a stray piece of his hair, he cleared his throat and twisted away.

"Alright, let's get this thing over with," he mumbled as he slid past you and headed towards the door.

"What's got you so grumpy?"

"Nothing. Just need a drink and a smoke."

"You're gonna abandon me with a bunch of DEA agents to go smoke for ten minutes?" you whined, following him out of your hotel room towards the elevators.

"You could always join me. You'd look like Bette Davis smoking a cigarette and wearing that dress," he replied when you both stepped inside the elevator. He tapped the lobby button and grinned down at you.

"You and Bette Davis," you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"What? She made smoking look so damn cool."

"Yeah, well, I think I'm going to pass," you told him. "I'll get a drink and mingle. Maybe find one of the girls you pissed off and have a cat fight."

Javi chuckled and shook his head. "That's a long list, baby. Shouldn't be too hard."

When the elevator doors slid open, you could hear the music thumping from the ballroom and laughter echoing off the walls.

"Sounds like they didn't waste any time," you said to Javier.

"Are you kidding? When the government gives you an open bar, you fucking milk it," he replied before taking one step towards the front doors. "You sure you're good for a few?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," you said, waving him off. He nodded and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Before he even made it to the door, he slipped one in between his lips.

The ballroom was pretty full already, Javi was right: when government employees have a chance to let loose, they jump at the opportunity. The entire room was decorated in Christmas lights, garland, and at least five different trees. The DJ was cycling through a mix of Christmas carols, pop music, and classic rock. Some people already shaking their hips on the dance floor with drinks in their hands. You spotted two different bars set up, so you made your way to the nearest one and ordered a white wine. As you waited, you bopped your head along to the beat of Last Christmas while mindlessly scrolling on your phone.

"Jack Daniels, neat," a man's deep voice said from beside you when the bartender placed your wine glass on a coaster. You thanked him and slid a few dollars across the bar before taking a sip.

"Excuse me... have we met?"

You turned to look at your neighbor and slowly shook your head. He was cute. Blonde hair parted to one side, mustache, lean but strong physique and sparkling blue eyes.

"No, we haven't," you said before offering your hand and name.

"Steve," he grinned, giving your hand a firm shake before accepting his drink with a nod and a couple bucks in the tip jar. "What department do you work in?"

"Oh, I don't work for the DEA, I'm here with someone," you said, leaning closer. You watched his face fall when you implied you weren't single and you pursed your lips. How the hell would Javi expect you to meet anyone when you had to pretend to be his girlfriend?

"I mean, just a friend. A good friend," you added, praying you didn't blow Javi's cover the first time you opened your mouth. "Uh, what do you do?"

"I'm an agent," he told you, chest puffing with pride. "Takin' down drug rings one scumbag at a time."

"Wow. That's so impressive," you gushed. You saw the way his cheeks flushed a bit and preened when he glanced down at your chest. "That must be so hard. What's your favorite part about the job?"

"Goin' to the Christmas party and meeting beautiful women like you," he shot back smoothly, making you giggle and toss your hair flirtatiously over your shoulder. Steve's gaze dragged up and down your dress appreciatively before adding, "I mean it. You look stunning. Should've known someone like you didn't work for the DEA."

"Oh, stop," you giggled, feeling your face warm from his compliment.

"Where are you sitting? Maybe I can convince you to dance after dinner? Now fair warning, I got two left feet, but I got a feeling no one's gonna be lookin' at me," Steve grinned, taking a step closer and grazing his thumb along your bare arm.

"Hmm, that sounds-"

"Murphy."

You both twisted around to find Javier storming across the room. And storming was really the only word for it. His fists were clenched and his jaw pulled tight like he was about to take a swing at Steve.

"Javi," you greeted him sweetly with a smile. At the same time, Steve said, "Peña."

"What's going on here?" he asked, sidling up so he could wedge himself between you and Steve.

"Nothing. Steve and I were just talking," you said innocently.

"Looked like more than that," Javier huffed. His tone and the serious look on his face made you falter. Did you do something wrong?

"Well-"

"I was just asking her for a dance after dinner. Relax, Jav," Steve joked with a playful punch to his shoulder. When Javi remained stoic and unmoving at your side, the smile slowly slipped from Steve's face.

"Oh, shit. Sorry. I thought you were just friends."

"We are," you said quickly, but Steve was already backing away.

"Enjoy your night! It was lovely to meet you," Steve said with a wink before disappearing into the crowd. You swiveled on your heel to glare at Javi.

"Why didn't you correct him?" you seethed.

Javi just shrugged, his relaxed demeanor slipping back in place, and leaned up against the bar to flag down a bartender. "You can do better than Steve."

"Who are you to say?" you argued back after he ordered a whiskey. "We were clicking! And he's cute, why-"

"'Cause I don't want you fucking my partner, hermosa, that's why," Javi snapped. Your eyes widened and you clamped your mouth shut for a moment.

"He's your partner? Why didn't you ever introduce us before? He's-"

"C'mon, let's go find the appetizers or something," he said after snatching his glass from the bar top. It was very evident you wouldn't be getting any more information out of Javier so you decided to drop the subject. But as the happy hour inched along with your third drink in your hand and Javi's arm finding a permanent home around your waist as he introduced you to his coworkers, your mind kept drifting back to that hardened look he had given you and Steve. The butterflies in your stomach churned to life every time you thought about it, your memory twisting things so you could pretend he was jealous over you flirting with another man. It wasn't that hard to imagine, really. He could hardly keep himself from touching either your waist or lower back or grabbing your hand. It fed the little fantasy in your head, deluding yourself into thinking he was subtly trying to claim you in front of the whole party, warning others to stay away.

You had given up reminding yourself that the fake relationship schtick was just an act by the end of dinner. It was too nice to pretend otherwise.

Javi had been wrapped up in a long winded conversation with the man seated on the other side of him, but your heart was fluttering the whole time because from the moment he set his silverware down, his hand hadn't once left your leg.

With a dreamy smile plastered across your face, your eyes casually drifted around the room. People were already beginning to dance but many still remained at their dinner tables chatting. You had been quietly admiring the artwork on the walls and sipping from your glass when you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It was hard to explain, but you just felt like someone was staring at you. Doing your best to be subtle, you shifted in your seat and let your gaze wander around the room again until you found the source.

There was a table to your left, half of which was empty, but five young women remained staring in your direction. Some had drinks dangling from their fingers, one had a scowl and another was leaning in to whisper something in her ear.

There was no question one of the girls must have been one of Javi's scorned lovers. If not all of them. Your heart sunk a little when you saw how beautiful they were and you forced yourself to look away.

Javier was handsome, he had charm, and he was funny. A lethal combination that managed to get him in bed with some extremely drop dead gorgeous women. It was then you felt your insecurities flare up. How could anyone buy you were a couple when he was used to having girls like that on his arm?

With Javier still talking, you stood up from your chair, suddenly feeling flustered and overwhelmed.

He stopped speaking mid sentence to look up and ask, "Where are you going?"

"Uh," you glanced around and swallowed nervously. "I think I just need some fresh air. I'll be right back."

"I'll go with you," he said, immediately standing. "I'll catch up with you later, Jim," Javi added over his shoulder before hurrying to catch up with you. When his palm pressed against your back, your feet automatically slowed.

"What's going on? Drink too much?"

"No. Well, maybe. I don't know," you rambled, eyes scanning for the exit. "I just feel like I don't fit in here."

"What? Why?" he asked, grabbing your arm and spinning you around. His face was filled with concern as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "You're doing great, cariño. I thought you were having fun."

"I was. I am," you stammered, and then your gaze landed on the table of girls, most of which had moved on to something else.

Before you could tear your eyes away, Javier noticed where you were looking and sighed.

"Yeah, sorry. I told you, I pissed off a woman or two here."

"It's not that," you mumbled, now staring down at the floor.

"Then what is it?"

You felt your cheeks flush and you couldn't look him in the eye when you finally admitted, "They're really pretty, Javi."

He just scoffed and took your hand in his.

"You're prettier."

You laughed lightly and shook your head. "Yeah, right. It's a good thing there's an open bar. Otherwise, I'm not sure people would believe we're together when you're usually seen with girls like that."

"Hey," Javi said softly. He hooked a finger under your chin and tilted it up so you would look at him. "Don't say that. You look better than anyone else here. If you weren't already, I'd be trying to get you up to my room right now," he said with a smirk. You giggled a little and sighed.

"Sorry. I guess I just had a moment or something," you said, breathing deep. Javi looked around the room and noticed how the dance floor was beginning to fill up.

"Wanna dance?"

You smiled and pulled your lower lip between your teeth as you watched others having fun on the dance floor. Without waiting for your answer, Javi tugged your hand and tilted his head, urging you to follow him. "C'mon, don't leave me hanging."

You laughed and let him lead you to the dance floor, weaving through the throngs of people until he found a little wiggle room, but right when he turned back to look at you with a big, goofy smile, the fast tempo switched to a much slower ballad. Javi cocked an eyebrow at you and extended a hand, unphased.

With a smile of your own, you took his hand and let him pull you in close. His fingers laced together with yours while his other arm wrapped around your middle and your free hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"Hey, you can dance," he teased when you fell into rhythm with him effortlessly.

"Of course I can dance," you said, rolling your eyes. Being that close to him, you could smell his aftershave, the whiskey on his breath, and a faint hint of cigarette smoke from earlier. The smell you had unknowingly grown to love. The smell that was, simply put, Javier.

You gazed up at him, smiling at the little pink tinting his cheeks and the glassy look in his eye. He looked so fucking adorable it almost pained you.

"Can I ask you something, Javi?" you asked quietly. His eyes softened at your tone and he nodded. "Why were you so mad earlier when I was talking to Steve? Really?"

The corner of his mouth twitched and his eyes flickered somewhere behind you as he considered his answer.

"I think you know why."

When he looked back down at you, the playfulness was gone. His eyes carried something else in them. Something he couldn't bring himself to say. Then your heart skipped a beat and your breath caught in your throat when you saw it. The look you had been aching to see from him for years. The same look you were giving him at the very same time.

And then it hit you. Yeah, you knew why.

It turned out Javier was much more popular at work than you ever expected. You had spent the rest of your dance trying to come up with the right thing to say, but you panicked and lost your chance when Javier's boss nudged his shoulder while dancing with his wife. The four of you fell into a conversation - the men about work, you and his boss's wife about Christmas bargains - in the middle of the dance floor. When you realized you were in the way, the conversation moved to the bar. After that, an investigator joined in the conversation with her girlfriend and before you knew it, it was nearly midnight and the moment you had with Javi on the dance floor was long forgotten.

Or so you thought.

It had been a long night. You were exhausted and your feet ached from the new shoes you picked out to match your dress. You had hoped to possibly find an opening and talk to Javi about what you thought he implied during your dance, but while you were waiting for him to wash up, you passed out cold.

One thing you knew for certain was you were on your side of the bed when you fell asleep. You knew that because your side faced the bathroom and you had rolled over to wait for Javi before you fell asleep. However, you couldn't explain why you woke up around three in the morning with your cheek resting on his shoulder and your arm wrapped around his waist.

Well, maybe you could explain it. It was probably your subconscious trying to seek him out after spending the evening being so close to him. No matter the reason, you knew you had to sneak back to your side of the bed before he woke up, so you slowly began to extract your arm.

"Where're you goin'?" Javi murmured sleepily. Your eyes widened and your heart began to race.

"Nowhere, just go back to sleep," you whispered, pulling your arm away. Just as you were about to roll over, Javi's hand shot out to grab your wrist. You froze, cheek still pressed against his shoulder, and slowly lifted your eyes up to meet his.

It was hard to see in the dark, but from what you could tell, he was wide awake. His dark brown eyes continued to study your face while you fumbled for words.

"Javi?" you said, voice sounding so small in the quiet room. His eyes flickered anxiously between yours for another moment before he came to his decision. In one quick movement, he had rolled you onto your back, his hips fitting perfectly between your legs as he caged you in.

"Javi," you said again, although this time sounding far more breathless and aroused than you intended.

He swallowed tightly, gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips before he whispered, "Do you feel it too, cariño?"

You shifted underneath him, eyelids fluttering when you felt his arousal pressing up against the inside of your thigh.

"Yes," you whispered back.

His mouth crashed against yours in an instant. It was rougher than you expected it to be but you didn't mind. You understood because you felt it, too. All that time wasted, dancing around something that was right in front of you the entire time. It was bound to drive anyone a little crazy, a little hungry.

Before you knew it, your fingers were in his hair, dragging down his shoulders, and then tugging at his shirt, and all the while his mouth remained cemented against yours. He had to pull away to yank his white tshirt over his head and you heard yourself make a pathetic little noise, like you couldn't possibly survive without his kiss, not even for one second.

"Take this off," he panted, lifting your oversized shirt halfway up your torso. You didn't need to be told twice. You flung it off and pulled Javier back down before he even had a chance to take a good look at your bare chest.

Everything was moving so fast but given the amount of time it took you to get there, it felt like a fucking eternity. He expertly tugged your shorts and underwear off while your tongues fought for dominance in each other's mouths. It wasn't even until you felt his fingers brush against your cunt that you realized you were entirely undressed.

"Oh, god... Javi!" you cried out brokenly when he slipped two fingers inside of you.

His mouth fell to your chin and he made a strangled sound, curling his fingers when he said, "Fuck, baby, when you say my name like that..."

His hand maintained a steady rhythm between your legs, reaching for that spot that made your back curl off the bed every time he thrusted inside. His other hand got lost in your hair, tipping your face so he could feverishly lock his lips with yours while dragging your first orgasm to the surface with a few circles over your sensitive clit.

"Javi! Wait... I'm gonna - I'm gonna come -" you gasped, unable to stop your hips from rolling up and meeting his hand.

"Go ahead, hermosa. I got you."

"No," you whimpered, muscles going tense. You were getting to the point of no return and you needed to stop him. "I wanna - I want you to fuck me, Javi. I - I wanna -"

Your head fell back into the pillow, unable to complete your sentence.

"I am. I'm gonna fuck you," he assured you, lips ghosting the shell of your ear and wrist snapping faster between your thighs. "I'll make you come on my cock, don't worry, baby. Just let go, c'mon, you can do that for me, right?"

"Oh, fuck," you gasped, eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck, fuck, fu- yes, Javi, yes! More... please-"

"Christ, cariño, you're gonna wake the whole fucking hotel," he chuckled, but you were too far gone to care. You tilted your chin to the ceiling, his name echoing off the walls as you came. It felt like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest, like your legs were so weak you may never walk again, yet somehow it wasn't enough. Not for either of you. In fact, it only seemed to make you each more desperate.

Your kisses on his skin became messy, both of you so eager to have the other that there was no room to worry about being too fast or abrasive. Your teeth clashed together when your arm curved around his neck, yanking him down to your level. Your shared hot breaths mingled with each pant and gasp. When you reached down to wrap your fingers around the heavy weight of his cock, he moaned into your open mouth and slid his fingers from your pussy so you could line him up with your entrance, neither of you in any mood to wait a second longer.

"Fu-uck," he groaned when he pushed inside of you, burying himself to the hilt in one go. You gasped and sharply bit down on his shoulder when tears sprung up and threatened to spill down your cheeks.

"You okay?" he panted, planting weak kisses against the side of your face. All you could do was nod. He filled you and stretched you so perfectly that it took your breath away and left you speechless. He nodded, too, lips parted as he puffed for air, then began to rock his hips. Slow at first, then steady and deep.

"Javi," you moaned in his ear, sending a shiver through his body. "Shit, just like that. Oh my god, Javi, just like that!"

Javier smirked into your shoulder, fucking you with deep, long strokes as you continued to fill the room with your cries and moans.

"Never thought you'd be so goddamn loud, baby," he teased, nipping playfully at your shoulder.

"Sorry," you whined into the air. Your jaw was clenched tight, fingers clawing uselessly at his broad shoulders while he continued to pump in and out a little bit harder, a little bit faster, setting loose one of the tears that welled up in your eyes.

"Don't be sorry, I fucking love it," he groaned. He lifted himself up so he could watch your face contort with each devastating thrust. "Fucking love how you say my name. Dreamed about it for so long, you have no idea-"

"Me, too," you moaned, a second tear trickling down your cheek. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him tightly as he began to fuck you faster. His eyes flickered down to your bare chest, breasts bouncing from the force of his thrusts. Craning his neck down, he latched onto one with a groan, teeth grazing enticingly over your nipple before sucking the other one into his mouth.

"God, you're so perfect," he mumbled into the space between your breasts. "So fucking perfect, hermosa. Drove me fucking crazy all night."

Your heart stuttered before grabbing the sides of his head and pulling him up for a deep kiss. Every time he slammed inside of you, it had you seeing stars. You felt completely at his mercy, unable to think about anything else except him, him, him.

"Tell me you want more," he demanded, pulling away from your kiss so he could look you in the eye. His eyes were blown wide with lust and a few dark hairs were beginning to stick to his forehead, the image so captivating that he had you nodding dumbly to his request.

"Yes, Javi, please," you moaned, "more, please, fuck me-"

"No, I mean-"

His hips slowed and he cupped your face, chest heaving and lips parted for air as he stared down at you imploringly. "I mean, tell me you want more than just tonight. Tell me there's something else here."

You blinked rapidly and nodded, stunned he would even have to ask when you had always been the one to prefer relationships. Hardly trusting yourself to speak, you whispered, "Yeah. I want more than just tonight. I want more than just this."

A smile stretched across his face right before he lunged down to capture your lips with his own. His hips resumed their pace, snapping steadily into you and pushing you higher and higher until you stiffened and cried out his name.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, shit," he muttered, hips stuttering against you, his name still tumbling from your mouth as the last of your orgasm rippled through your body. "Baby - look at me," he begged, and it wasn't until that moment you realized your eyelids had even shut.

Tiredly, you opened your eyes to gaze up at him. The way he was looking at you caused a lump to form in your throat and you had to suppress a shiver. It was too intense all of the sudden, the air thickening between you in a matter of seconds.

"Come for me, Javi," you murmured lowly. You brought a shaky hand up to card through his damp hair, watching as his eyebrows pinched and his chin dropped, pulling out of you quickly and sitting back on his heels to fist his cock. Your hand fell back to the cool sheets beside you, unable to look away. He was hunched above you, one fist pressed into the mattress and the other jerking himself off until he stilled with a deep groan, painting your stomach with his sticky release. You couldn't even let yourself blink, doing your best to commit every detail to memory until he collapsed next to you with a heavy sigh.

"Fucking Christ," he grumbled, forearm tossed over his eyes. You giggled, face warming when you heard how raspy you sounded. Javier removed his arm and turned his head to look at you with a lopsided grin.

"You're a screamer, hermosa."

"Javi!" you cried out softly, but your broken voice only further proved his argument. He chuckled and rolled onto his side to push some hair away from your eyes.

"I was expecting a phone call from the front desk ten minutes ago."

"Shut up, Javi!" you whined, covering your face with your palms.

"Don't be embarrassed, baby, I love it," he said while pulling your hands away. You bit your lip and peered up at him, searching his face for any sign of regret and finding none. Then his face softened and he swallowed nervously before adding, "I'm in love with you."

He said it so quietly, so sweetly, that it had you wondering if you were hearing things. But then you saw the anxious look in his eye and your pulse skyrocketed.

"Really?" you asked in disbelief. Slowly, he nodded.

"Yeah. I think I've been in love with you for a while," he admitted, tracing an invisible line down your cheek.

You laughed and two fresh tears fell when you said, "I love you, too."

His mouth crashed against yours in relief and you wrapped your arms around his neck, matching smiles pressing together in stunned happiness.

"I'm sorry I wasted so much time and didn't tell you sooner," he murmured while stroking your hair.

"It doesn't matter," you replied, "we have each other now."

Javi smiled and kissed the tip of your nose.

"So, now what?" he asked.

"Now? Now I would really like to take a shower," you said, then grinned when you added, "and maybe in the morning we can do this all over again."

He laughed and rolled to his side so you could get out of bed. When his eyes locked onto your ass as you made your way to the bathroom in the dark, he flung the covers off and leapt out of bed to follow you.

"I think we're gonna need a late check out."

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[fairene]

beneath the moonlight / ln4

vacay lando norris x maxf!littlesister

no use of y/n, as always.

prompt ⋯ ohhh hey ! wanted to stop by to say i love ur fic and wanted to request insatiable lando with max f’s sister like a forbidden summer fling with all their friends and no one’s supposed to know about their secret relationship ( especially max ) — @444mercss

a/n ⋯ this was much longer than i intended, but the words just kept flowing out of me. thank you to all those who beta read my post and helped with grammar!!! ( @jamminvroomvroom , @theonottsbxtch ) you all helped so much. and thank you to mercs for requesting this. i didn't know i'd enjoy it as much as i did, but it definitely was for 20k words. i'll probably take a week ( or maybe not ) off from writing just to give myself a cool down period, but still here to answer any asks. feel free to pop in. hope you all enjoy this, and remember, readers looks are up for interpretation, along with the outfits. colors of coloring are mention only briefly!

warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, drinking, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, oral(m+f)!receiving, mutual masturbation, overstimulation, feral lando. best friends little sister, brothers best friend dynamic, mutual pining, 'games', horny thoughts. much, much more. but even, possession, jealousy. if i forgot any warnings, feel free to let me know.

wc ⋯ 20.1k (WHEWWW WEEE... edited by @jamminvroomvroom, @theonottsbxtch)

the summertime was one of your favorites. you and all of the rest of your girlfriend’s would spend each and every day together without question. but as time went on, they got their own lives. partners, engagements, jobs. not to say that you weren’t an accomplished young lady, but it was starting to show that you were hung up on a life that was starting to fade.

your brother on the other hand, was keen on keeping you in this life. in tip top shape on your toes, he’d always challenge you in a multitude of ways. or annoy you to no end. typically it was the latter. 

but he had invited you this summer on vacation with his friends. you knew them all relatively well, texted here and there, but you never imagined to be trailing along on a villa getaway sponsored by the quadrant house, mainly the famous lando norris himself. 

you would be shy to admit it, but you had a bit of a soft spot for lando. him and his cheeky smile. the moles that donned his face. his starlit eyes that radiated an emerald hue beneath the sunlight. it was intangible the way that you could pick apart the details about his nuanced beauty, but it was a secret for you to keep.  a secret that no one, especially your brother, could ever find out about.

but that’s all that it was, wasn’t it?

a dream. a pathetic fantasy. you wouldn’t ever gain the courage to talk to him, make a move, despite how often him and max talk about going on dates with girls. talking about his love life, or the rather drab there of. he fucked around a lot, max knew that, and would consistently warn you to never get wrapped up in the same lifestyle as the british driver. you’d hold up your hands in defense, shrieking a ‘don’t worry about me,’ though you wish you gave him a reason to.

why did you feel undeserving of lando– because he was a formula one driver? attractive? charming? were you afraid that you were going to be friendzoned–? oh god, that would be the fucking worst, wouldn’t it? you could never imagine the hangouts being the same. so you’d bite your tongue until it bled, even when your body yearned for the heat of his own. 

the villa that you would be staying at was on lake como in italy. it was a beautiful venue, a place that you’d been dreaming of visiting. max knew this, hence why he’d probably sniped you an invite. but it wasn’t like no one wanted you there. everyone did. that was the problem. you were so incredibly loved by all of max’s friends, that he kept them at arm’s length. no one would ever hurt his little sister. not while he was still breathing. 

“wow,” you breathed, stepping out of the uber from the airport. the house before you was a stunning makeup of eccentric architecture that dated decades before your own birth. it was a grand building with tall, marble columns. thoroughly decorated landscaping, and even had running fountains in the front. you were so lost in your awe that you didn’t see the huge pair of mahogany doors swing open. 

“max,” you turned your head towards your brother who was grabbing your bags from the trunk. you shifted to the source of the voice, finding the british driver standing barefoot with a beach flannel and short-inseam khaki shorts low around his waist. you gulped before looking anywhere else but him. 

“lando!” max approached him, arm outstretched for a shake. lando met him half way down the marbled steps, taking his sunglasses off from the top of his head. 

“how was the flight, mate? good?” max nodded for the both of you whilst you fiddled with the accessories around your hands. you didn’t ever know what to say to lando. you found yourself unbelievably speechless in his presence. 

“not too bad, ‘specially if this is what you’ve got.” lando chuckled at your brother’s words, and then his eyes finally landed on you. you and your comfortable outfit from the plane ride over. you and your pulled back hair, respectfully messy, and the jewelry that adorned your fingers. his eyes caught over the bling, and how you anxiously picked away at the skin. 

“never thought she’d grace our presence,” lando said jokingly, which had your head snapping upright. you flushed, sucking your bottom lip with your teeth. 

max rolled his eyes, avoidant of the topic of you in general. “whatever, mate, she’s here now, in’she?” what? what was that supposed to mean? was your presence requested? you suddenly felt wanted above all things. 

“she certainly is.” lando approached you with his tongue tucked behind his bottom lip, hasty in his steps. you stood up straighter with a light smile on your face, eyes twinkling away from his own. you couldn’t keep eye contact with him. “c’mon, love, i’ll take your bags.” 

“are you sure? i can take–”

the bags were grabbed from your hands. you felt the palm of his own for just a moment— the warm flesh, humming low against his own. you felt like he spoke to you through your blood, but you let it go. lando norris wasn’t giving you special attention, that’s for sure. 

you promised yourself that much. this whimsical, airy crush of yours needed to be vetted on the spot. he was your brother’s best friend, older than you, and certainly didn’t have time for a girl who wasn’t a celebrity. 

right?

he took your bags through the exquisite villa. the interior was even more luxurious than you could ever imagine– floor to ceiling windows, candlelit ceiling lights, flora decorating each wall that you turned to. it smelled delectable, too, wafting germanium and coconut oil. the smile on your face couldn’t be ignored, as you shimmered brighter than the summer sun. 

“you like it, then?” came lando’s voice. your head dropped, glancing at him from where he stood, waiting for you to join him on the steps. had he been watching your face? 

“you’re joking.” you assured, hands clasped together. “it’s beautiful.” 

lando smiled then, too, letting his lower lip snatch between his top teeth. he tried hard to conceal his happiness, but you felt like you could feel it amongst the air. you felt warm all of a sudden and cleared your throat, urging him forward up the spiraling staircase. 

you walked in silence with him down the long corridors. you would pause before each door briefly, wondering if he was going to open it, but he didn’t. it wasn’t until you were reaching the ends of the hallway when he stopped, twisting the knob of the white wooden door. he stood aside, letting you in first. 

the room you’d be staying in for the next few weeks was more than you could ever dream of. with its spacious interior, personal bathroom, and private balcony, you felt like the luckiest girl alive to be able to experience this. to live in this moment. to be here. in italy, of all places. 

lando interrupted your dreaming haze by sliding the bags in. you turned to face him in your unruly, exhausted glory, and he stared at you. a hand of his found the back of his neck. 

“so…dinner tonight at seven, pool day tomorrow, um…” he looked around, acting as if he could suddenly have the words appear into his head. “oh and, if you need anything, my room’s just next door.” 

he said it with haste, as if he were shy about the fact, and was already stepping out the door. 

“wait,” you said, stepping forward. lando hung back, gripping onto the door frame, swinging his head back into the room. “thank you.” 

the words seemed to hit him harder than you thought that it would. he blushed a light red, dimming his tanned face, and cleared his throat before nodding. “of course.” he said with out hesitance, making it clear that he would do this for anyone. “‘m glad you’re here.” 

and then he was gone. 

you stared at the shut door in stunned silence. did you really hear him correctly? 

you didn’t let your thoughts linger too long, but you couldn’t help but let it. the curly-haired brunette stayed in your mind whilst you settled in and unpacked. all ounce of his shy, gaunt nature. 

by the evening you were more than settled and relaxed. you’d taken a small nap to rejuvenate your energy, and just in the nick of time for dinner. you got ready amply, sliding a comfortable dress over the surface of your body. the straps were thin and fell loose upon your collarbones. you’d pair an elegant pair of low rise heels on your feet, pointy-toed, that matched the color of your dress.

you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the dim yellow lighting illuminating the corners of your face that you so frequently forgot to appreciate. it was in the hours of the night that you could appreciate yourself, unopposed to the gawking looks of strangers. 

there was a soft knock on your door at 6:57. you turned, dress swaying from your movements, and cracked it open. 

lando stood there on the other side. him and his dark shirt and khaki pants. he wore a pair of leather black loafers that matched his shirt. he smelled good, too, a masculine tint of sauvage. 

no words were spoken between the two of you. you simply stared at one another, lost in each other’s features. you resisted the urge to trace the moles on his face with a finger, whilst he fought himself to not reach out and run his hands along the fabric of your dress. 

his eyes softened when you met his, cheeks filled with a simple kind of joy. the two of you were done ogling at one another, still foreign in each other’s presence. 

“ready?” he asked. you nodded, grabbing a matching handbag from the countertop and slung it over your arm. you shut the door to your room behind you and walked a few paces behind lando. you weren’t close with him like that to walk side by side.

or so you thought.

he dragged his feet to slow his pace, coming parallel to your side. he held his breath for a moment, turning to look at the exposed skin from your dress. you caught his wandering eyes and looked up at him, wandering beneath his emerald depths. 

“what?” you asked tenderly, voice hitching in your throat. 

“nothing.” he turned his head to face back forward. “just haven’t seen you in a while, that’s all.” 

that was an understatement. you haven’t seen lando in almost three years. max had done a stellar job of wanting to keep you separated from his friends, though you weren’t upset about it. you had your own life, and that was perfectly enough for you. 

but you were a girl with a heart full of wanderlust, and often dreamed of what you could’ve had. there was a marksmith of delusion prodding the hidden parts of your brain, working tirelessly to pick apart the small interactions you’ve had with lando over the years. 

when you turned 18, he brought you to an exclusive club and showered you with gifts, alcohol, and even more. it was a night you wouldn’t forget, feeling lucky enough to manage a dance with him on the dance floor. his hands hovered above your body, the warmth seeping through your skin, rattling your bones. he even got so close to your face that you could feel his breath. smell the alcohol that reeked from him. 

you thought you were going to kiss. 

and so did he. 

but your brother separated the two of you, calling lando over for a group shot. you were left there, stranded on the dance floor, with the phantom touch of a man that you knew you could never have. it pained you to admit such a truth to yourself, but it didn’t loiter. you had a life to get back to, not indulge some silly, fanatical dream that kept you up late at night as a teenager. lando norris was the fantasy, never to become a reality. 

though, every time in presence, you’d manage to falter. set those delusions free the second he’d act kindly to you; gentle, tender tenacity that you believed would be special to you. max’s little sister. that’s all you were, though, weren’t you? 

“you’ve been well, haven’t you?” you asked him with a hum, holding your bag with both hands in front of you. the leather piece bucked against your abdomen. lando watched, peering to see if he could hold it for you. 

“‘course. living my dream, aren’t i?” you’d made it to the end of the hallway. the top of the staircase. 

“it’s not a dream.” you said with a softer intonation. he looked back towards you with a raised brow. “it’s reality now, i’d reckon.” 

he smiled. 

the two of you made it down the steps. you lingered in the grand foyer, beneath the candlelit chandelier. it was still light outside, but the sun was beginning to set. it had created a pink and blue hue over the water’s edge. 

but you weren’t looking at the water’s edge. 

you were looking at lando. your brother’s best friend. he had his hands in his pockets, facing the open living room, rocking back and forth on his heels. you cut your way to his line of sight staring upward at him. he looked down at you, wondering what you were searching for.

you had considered not doing what you were about to do. you really did!

but your hand was already outstretched, the tips of your fingers grazing over the grown facial hair on his chin. he didn’t jolt from the action and merely stared into your eyes, pupils blown wide from the warmth of your touch. 

“i like it,” you commented before taking your hand away, finding yourself into much deep trouble if max had seen the two of you. 

“yeah?” lando asked, suddenly much closer to you. 

“makes you look older and manly.” you rolled your eyes. 

“what? i wasn’t manly before?” 

your hand rolled over your mouth to withhold a laugh. “i’ve seen you weep at the sight of fish.” 

lando’s face lit up and his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek. “doesn’t make me any less of a man.” he crossed his arms. 

“really?” 

“just enthusiastic. don’t see a problem with having a bit of character.” you didn’t argue with him further when you saw your brother and other group friends join one another in the living room. they made their way closer to the two of you.

you took a step back from lando. he couldn’t take his eyes off the action, his face falling instinctively. it’s nothing. his expressions mean nothing. they’re not for you. 

“c’mon, i’m starvin’.” max called, slapping lando on the back. sure enough, you were walking out the door behind your brother, everyone trailing in an orderly manner. 

you heard lando call your name from in front of max. you hummed in response. “you’ll ride with me, yeah?” you blushed. how could you not? max turned his head over his shoulder, his voice saying nothing, but his eyes telling all. he knows how you felt about lando when you were younger. 

he knows, he knows, he knows. but surely, surely you’ve gotten over that little crush of yours. and lando, too, hadn’t harbored any feelings towards you either? surely, surely he couldn’t. you were his little sister. and max knew how lando treated girls as of late. 

it left a sour taste in his mouth, but he said nothing when you nodded, brushing past him. 

lando opened the door for you. his mclaren was a two seater, comfortable, and roared to life when lando turned over the engine. you couldn’t help but laugh feeling the seat vibrate beneath your thighs. it was a feeling of exhilaration that you hadn’t felt in a long time, but a feeling that came perpetually with lando’s presence. being with him made you feel alive, more alive than the years you’d walked this earth. 

your excitement had done things to him as well. his eyes were glued to how you reacted, enthralled by your visceral enthusiasm to being in such a tangible sports car. your fingertips grazed across the leather interior of the door handle. 

“gonna jump out on me?” 

you shifted in the leather seat, crossing your legs over one another. there was a heat building inside of you, deep in your core. 

“not if you don’t give me a reason to.”

he chuckled at that. “i’ll try.” 

you smiled to yourself, looking down at your fiddling hands. lando stepped on the gas and pulled out of the villa’s extraneously long driveway, leading the pack of friends behind him. 

“you look fit.” came his voice, nervous, beneath his breath. your eyes caught his side profile, all rough edges of it. “beautiful, but your brother’d have me by the balls if he heard me say that.” 

your breaths were heavy in your chest. “then don’t let him.” 

lando’s head whipped to meet your eyes, hand white-knuckling the steering wheel. you weren’t even sure what you were implying with your words, but he hoped that he wasn’t misinterpreting them. god forbid he didn’t understand. you didn’t brush him off like you did as a child, didn’t stumble away bashfully. now, in your grown state, you faced him head on. you challenged him, just as he suspected you would. 

“between us, then?” 

you nodded, tongue coming to wet your bottom lip. you made a motion of a lock and key against them, throwing the key out the window. he watched, but was drawn back to the road. that was one of the fastest car rides you’ve ever been in with that roaring engine, feeling like you had stepped into the biggest unknown of your very existence. 

the restaurant that lando had made reservations for was absolutely beautiful. you couldn’t count the amount of times you’ve been awed by the sites you’ve seen, but you couldn’t help yourself. you were simply one of the luckiest girls with even richer friends. 

lando opened the car door for you, sprinting to the other side. you found yourself laughing at the action, finding his urgency cute. 

you stepped out of the car and you immediately found your brother, his stance idle before he marched over to you. 

“he say anything to you?” 

you flushed. between us, then?

“no. what would he say?” 

max didn’t elaborate and simply settled for a huff from his nose. lando had been handing off his car to the valet man when he met up with the two of you. your other friends were in tow, eight of you in total, and made it inside the restaurant with ease.

you didn’t even think about what the seating arrangement would be. not until lando pulled out a chair for you, beside him, and you had no other choice but to settle in. not like you were complaining though. 

but max was going to. you could see the look on his face when he sat opposite to you, flashing you a pair of warning eyes. but you didn’t know what warranted them– you didn’t even say anything to lando, more or less. 

you furrowed your brows at him, feeling far too old for these insolent glances, and picked up the menu. lando sat next to you, mirroring your actions. you placed the napkin on your lap, a polite etiquette you’ve always precluded dinners with. 

“ah– look,” you leaned into lando’s space, the heat from his body, the cologne from his shirt, sifting through your nose. it was tempting. “for you.” 

your finger pointed to the blackened cod that they had on the menu. lando met you half way, looming over your shoulder at what you were pointing at. as soon as he read it, he scoffed. “fuck off.” you couldn’t help but giggle, attempting to stifle the sound the best you could.

“don’t do that,” lando’s voice came firm, but soft against your ears. he was talking just loud enough for the two of you to be able to hear. you glanced quickly at max, who was lost in conversation with his buddies. 

“what?” 

“hide your laugh.” you guessed you didn’t realize how often you muffled yourself. your hand lowered to your lap. “you used to do it when you were a teenager, too.” he pointed. you thought for a moment, realizing that he was right. “never understood why. especially since it’s so pretty.”

you froze, staring up at him with weary eyes. he looked confused at your expression. your hand came to slap his bicep. “stop it.” but you were teasing him. he saw right through your tone. 

“don’t let him, ‘s what you said, right?” 

you swallowed. nodded your head. 

his mouth dipped to your ear. his breath hot, just like your cheeks. “he won’t hear a thing then, will he?” lando’s nose brushed against your scalp, and you thought for a moment, dreamed, that he would plant a kiss upon your head. but his lips simply hovered, breaths warming your strands of hair. 

but you turned your head to meet his eyes, shaking his contact off. he noticed. tensed. “but he can see, you imbecile.” 

that had lando laughing. your face broke with a smile, unable to resist his intoxicating gestures. he simply shrugged, letting you win this one, and his arm came to sling over the back of your chair. his fingertips grazed the strands of your dress, dipping down to your bare shoulders. your posture straightened against the chair, legs crossing over one another beneath the table. he watched you shift, his teeth catching his bottom lip to retain his smile. 

the waiter came to take your orders. you ordered your preferred choice and drink, lando following suit. when the table received their drinks, you lifted your glasses for a collective ‘cheers’. 

when the main course was finished, you were handed the dessert menus. short a couple, you had to share with the man next to you. you nudged lando’s shoulder with your own and like a dog to a whistle, he was over your shoulder once more, his stubble barely pinching your skin. the thought burst through your head: what would it feel like on your neck? on your thighs, your cunt? you blushed again for what felt like an infinitesimal number, but turned your attention back to the menu. 

you pointed at the option that you thought was best. lando hummed, his eyes tracing over the features of your face. you glanced at him. “what?” you asked. 

he simply huffed a short laugh and nodded his head at your choice. 

it arrived sooner than later and the two of you split the sweet dessert. your brother was still lost in his own conversations, leaving you to your ministrations with lando. whatever they may be, you’d want them all. 

when you had your fill and so did he, you couldn’t help but look at him. he turned, and you laughed quietly between the two of you. he raised a brow. 

“you’ve got–” you pointed to his lip, but you figured your words were fruitless. you licked at your thumb and raised it to his mouth, cleaning him. his eyes darkened, becoming hooded with the shadows of lust. you even dared to bring your thumb back to your mouth, popping the remnants across your lips with a ‘pop’. lando never thought his dick could be so hard. 

“there,” you breathed. “all clean.” 

there was a brief silence. one second. two. “you’ve always been trouble, haven’t you?” 

your own eyes were hooded. “maybe.” you teased, cleaning your fingers with the napkin. “guess you have to find out?” 

lando’s hand gripped tighter on the back of your chair. 

“guess so.”

the drive back was tense. tense with your excitement. on the way out, lando and you lingered at the back of the pack. his hand was on your lower back, warm and electric, reminding you that you had stepped into the deep end with him. 

you still couldn’t believe what had happened. 

lando was speeding down the freeway, weaving his way in and out of cars, a dangerous task that you only felt comfortable with him performing. you’d lose your mind if anyone else was the driver, but he was the professional here, wasn’t he? 

you were even so bold to roll the window down and stick your hand out, feeling the harsh slipstreams beneath your nailbeds. you relaxed in the seat, head lolling against the cushion, hair flying into the wind. lando turned his head to look at you, his elbow leaning on the interior beneath the windowsill, and almost swerved into oncoming traffic. you were a picturesque beauty, lounging freely in his passenger seat, legs crossed, free. 

you were at peace for the time being, and it was the only way he’d wish to see you. but he could think of other things. 

he pulled into the house with ease. it was well lit amongst the long, windy driveway, and he made sure to let you out first. you two were the last to arrive at the house this time, taking your sweet time. you were in no rush to race back to your room, and neither was he. 

it was well past 10pm. when you reached the foyer, max was waiting for you.

“bright and early tomorrow?” he asked. 

“bright and early.” you confirmed. he pulled you in for a swift hug, rustling the top of your head with that familial brother love that you adored him for. 

he patted lando on the back briefly, before narrowing his eyes at him. you didn’t understand what was happening between the two of them, bro code, but lando seemed to understand well enough. max and his buddies traipsed up the steps, and you felt at ease when you heard their doors shut. 

it was just you and lando, now, idling in the foyer. 

you said nothing but began to walk, trailing forward through the grandeur villa. you were ample with your pace and heard him moving behind you. with a push of your hand, you opened the door to the grand balcony, leaving it ajar for lando to sneak out from. 

he did. 

there was a patio set there, waiting, and you let your handbag drop onto the coffee table. you sauntered over to the cobblestone walls, the balustrade meeting post to post for about thirty feet. you leaned against the stone. it was cold against your bare back. 

lando seated himself in one of the chairs, his legs spreading wide. he watched you lean forward, then spin to face him. your back was illuminated by the halo of the moonlight, drenching you in a pale visage of beauty. 

“you wanna know something?” you asked. lando perked up, humming with curiosity. he was too busy admiring your figure, having to pull himself back from such tumultuous thoughts. “i had a crush on you when i was a kid.”

that stifled a laugh from the british driver. “you did not.” 

you shook your head. “sure did.” you didn’t know why you were telling him this all of a sudden, but it was weighing heavy on your mind. “max was pissed. knew i only came around when he told me you’d be there.” 

the pieces began melding together in lando’s mind. he had been such an idiot boy that he couldn’t see what a prized beauty you were. there was a trace of second hand guilt. a pattern of ‘what-ifs’ trifling through his mind. 

“‘was just a stupid girl. tried so hard for you to notice me.” your hands covered your face for a brief moment. 

“you always wore skirts,” he recalled, looking at his hands in his lap. he looked up at you, smirk building. “that why?” 

you were shameless when you nodded your head. 

“so embarrassing, i know–” 

“what about now?” he cut you off, clearly wanting to ask this question the moment it left your lips. 

“what do you mean?” your mouth went dry, your hands clasping at the balustrade as if you were going to faint. your heart pounded in your chest. 

“what do you feel for me now?” 

you couldn’t meet his eye. you looked anywhere else but him, in fact, and opted to over your shoulder to admire the view of the ocean beneath the starlight. the ocean wouldn’t judge you. it would wash away your problems, in fact, and not stare you down. 

there was a deep intake of breath that had your head settling from its dizzy state. you looked back to lando and he sat there, cocky, upright. but there was a genteel nature about him that didn’t have you as afraid as you thought you’d be. 

he raised his arm, outstretching his hand for you. 

you swallowed, pushing yourself off from the balustrade. you sauntered towards him, earnest in your steps, before letting your palm rest on his. 

he pulled you close, fingers wrapping against your wrist. he was warm to the touch and he could feel your erratic heartbeat in your veins. 

lando’s legs spread for you to settle between. you stood above him, looking down at his brunette curls, his stubble, his cheekbones. his own hands were experimental against the planes of your body, touching sweetly against your hips. 

“you didn’t answer me.” he repeated.

you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“some dreams just remain dreams.” 

he waited a beat. you felt his chest rise and fall. 

“do you want to dream forever?” 

no. no. you didn’t. you wanted your fantasies to become reality. being with him. being loved by him has always been what you wanted. 

you lowered yourself on his lap, straddling his waist. you felt his cock thrum beneath the guard of his pants. did he want you the same? 

his forehead collided with yours. his nose brushing against your bridge. you shook your head, closing your eyes. 

“wake me up,” you mewled quietly, voice deep within your throat. it was a desperate plea, one that you thought he may not understand until he caught the glint in your eye. the wanting. the years of pining from a distance. how he was so wrapped up in his boyhood that he couldn’t appreciate a woman at his side. “please.” 

he didn’t wait any longer to meet your lips with his own. 

you were cautious with your touches. your hands were on his chest, gripping at the fabric of his shirt. but your kiss was deep by his own volition, gripping your chin with his forefinger and thumb, earning a groveling sound in your throat. 

his other hand was stroking your back, pushing you against him until your breasts were firmly against his chest. you gasped at the firm contact, him using it as an excuse to slip his tongue into your mouth. he explored every corner with an expertise you didn’t know was possible. no place went untouched by his saliva, marking a cavern of his own, and perhaps awakening a fantasy that had been dormant for years. 

he lied when he said he didn’t notice you. 

he lied. 

lando would always await your appearance when he went over to max’s house. he’d hear you skip down the steps in whatever mary-jane heel you wore for that day. max would groan when your head popped through the archway, waving at his friends, but your lashes fluttered when you settled on lando. 

‘course he fucking noticed. 

he thought of you a sweet girl, caring for her brother, with an exquisite taste in fashion. he’d remember the skirts you wore–  black ones, pleated ones, plaid ones– they were all committed to the vaults of his memory. he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. 

and he still did. while you were perched atop of his lap, huffing in nervous breaths, your hands anxiously skirting across the plane of his dress shirt. you shook atop of him as your lips moved coincided with one another. two bodies, melding together beneath the moonlight. 

your tongue swirled against his own, hips bucking against the bulge in his pants. your cunt tightened aimlessly, drenching his pants below. he could feel the patten of fabric become lathered in your slick, and it brought him back to earth.

“we can’t.” he breathed against your lips. his chest was beating up and down, unable to calm himself. though he attempted rejecting you, his hand tightened around the fabric of your dress. 

your nose brushed against his as you chuckled. “a bit late, isn’t it?” your teeth bit at your swollen, bottom lip. you could see his eyes flash downward at your action, his own tongue wetting his own. 

“your brother,” he began to shake his head, still clutching around the fabric of your dress. 

“he doesn’t…” you began to say, kissing the sides of his stubble. you were even so bold to take his free hand, guide it to your inner thighs, and let his fingertips caress the wet fabric covering your cunt. it was swollen, desperate for his touch. you’d been desperate for his touch. desperate for as long as you could remember. “have to know.” 

lando’s fingers curled upward to apply pressure right on your clit. he didn’t even have to search for it, and you shifted your hips, bucking them across his palm. “fuck, baby…” he groaned into your cheek, followed by a crass chuckle. “you always get this wet?” 

your head buried itself into the junction between his neck and shoulder, whining with embarrassment. “jus’ for you…” the words came quietly, but they rang loud in lando’s ears. he could feel the vibrations from your throat, your aching cunt. you were laid atop of him, dripping down your thighs. 

“yeah?” he breathed, finding his heart beating rapidly beneath the weight of your body. his fingers began a pattern of motions across your clothed clit—back and forth— and you mewled into his shirt. there was a patch of drool beneath your lips. “look at you, then, made a mess all over me…” 

your lips sucked on the skin of his neck, biting at his chest. attempting to shift closer to him, if it was possible, had your cunt aligned over his clothed cock. 

“‘n i’ve barely touched you.” 

lando wasn’t even sure he could bring himself to. this was his best friend’s little sister. the amount of lines he’s crossed. the friendship he’s had for years suddenly feeling vulnerable, out the door. but he can’t say he hasn’t thought about a moment like this. fantasized about it once or twice. 

“touch me,” you pleaded, tilting your head to look at him. your eyes were wide, glossy with your pleasure, whilst his darkened at your contact. “more, i need…” your hips grinded against his palm. “more.” 

“fuck,” he cursed beneath his breath. fuck his self control. fuck whatever this was going to do to his friendship. you are real, pining for him in his lap, begging you for his touch. anything from him, really, you would take. this moment felt like it was going to flutter away any moment, and you’d be waking up from a sick, yearning dream. 

the hand upon your back steadied you against his body, whilst the fingers of his other moved the fabric of your panties aside. here, with his sensitive fingers, he could feel the heat from your cunt. it washed over him like a wave, retracting, tightening when he flexed his middle finger. you were utterly drenched for him, the cool breeze of the night raising goosebumps along your skin. 

you shivered above him, watching how his hand worked beneath your dress. his hand against your back curled around the base of your neck, angling your eyes back up to his own. “eyes on me.” you listened, melted at his soft, demanding tone, and nodded your head. you shimmied frantically across the plane of his hand, but he tsked. “be patient.” 

you seemed to understand well enough. he would give you what you wanted, in time. you would be patient, holding back the whimpers deep within your throat. you were just about to implode on yourself when he finally inserted his middle finger into your folds, taunting you dangerously. you gasped, unable to keep yourself still as your back arched. your head fell back into his hand, lando’s thumb swirling around your bare neck. 

the straps from your dress fell loose with the motion and you could feel the breeze harden your already taut nipples. his eyes clinged downward at the sight before him, head bending forward to kiss your exposed chest. one of your hands came to clench around his wrist, the other to his neck, holding him fiercely to your body. 

your fingers were thrusted deep into the base of his neck, the fade of his hair. you tugged when his finger curled deliciously inside of you, his thumb– acting so expertly– applied gentile pressure to your clit, toiling with your impetuous lust. you felt exposed to him, putty in his hands, weightless against his body. 

the british driver’s lips were relentless on your skin. your chest was claimed by his tongue, swirling around the top of your breasts, edging you further to a spectacular orgasm. he sucked tight against your skin, but your head raised to meet your lips to his ears.

“no marks,” you requested, but you heard him growl against your chest. his hands flexed– his wrist clutched with your palm, his hand on the back of your neck– the contact with your neck had you breathless, clenching around his singular finger, and he took blatant notice. 

“a secret, yeah?” he confirmed, holding back his groveling tone. the words were bitter when they hit your ears. there was a layered amount of surplus emotions that guarded his heart, held him at arm's length, and he knew it would tear him apart. but now, he focused on you atop of him, and getting you to come. 

“mhmm…” you had to clamp your mouth shut from bursting with a wanton moan. it was too much– the way that he swirled his thumb, how his finger was just the perfect length to bottom out inside of you. your hips moved relentlessly, despite his grip around your neck, and you pushed down on his wrist when it started to become too much for you. 

but lando had other plans. he shook his head, let out a tsk between his lips, and let his ring finger slip into you with ease. you let out another moan, deeper than the rest, but he responded with a tug on your hair. 

with his lips still against your breasts, his motions froze. “quiet.” you hummed a disapproving sound. “want me to stop?” 

you shook your head. “no– no!” 

you could feel his teeth against your breasts, a cocky smile no doubt with how flustered you became at the thought of him stopping. 

“gotta be quiet, love–” and then his lips were back on you, sucking amply at your skin. his head lowered until he captured a nipple between his teeth, letting the ridges toy with your sensitive buds. your head lowered to the top of his as you breathed him in– his shampoo, his cologne– and it didn’t help with containing yourself. 

his pace against your cunt quickened. dual fingers sliding in and out of you with ease, thumb riding aggressively on your clit. you could feel the coil inside of you wringing with heat. 

lando’s lips found your other nipple, treating it with the same voraciousness that the other received. it was beginning to become too much for you. no man had ever had you this way– putty, liquid, melting– beneath his touch. you feared that you’d never be able to have an orgasm again. 

you became antsy in his hands. your grip on his wrist was shaking, your thighs desperately clenching around his waist. he took it as a sign that you were close, and the words fell easily from his lips. 

“gonna cum for me?” his chin rested on your chest, angling to look up at your sweating, flushed expression. your eyes fluttered shut as you nodded. his grip around your throat tightened against the columns. you’d never trusted a man so much to not hurt you. 

“come on, sweet girl, ‘ve got you.” he promised to you, “bet you’re so pretty when you cum.” 

you felt the skin of your lip break into a light gash beneath the weight of your teeth. you’d been so focused on keeping quiet, that you went ahead at your own expense. lando saw the way your eyes opened, and lurched to meet your lips with his own.

the iron upon his tongue didn’t frighten him. perhaps it turned him on in some manner. the lengths that you were willing to go to keep your sweet lips tightened. but as his own tongue swirled around the stinging cut of your lip, you moaned into him. he absorbed the sound, locking it into the expanse of his memories. you had such a sweet voice. he’d never hear something like it again. 

“come on, baby,” he urged you once more, speaking into your mouth. his breath was hot, spinning a knot of thread with your own. you felt him laugh at your oncoming orgasm, taking joy from eliciting such pleasure from you. “let me see how pretty you are.” 

it didn’t take much longer for your orgasm to reach you. you went taut, shaking in his hands, eyes rolling into your head. you swore you saw stars, and that was just from his fingers alone. it had you wondering what his cock felt like. 

your head fell limp against his shoulder, breathing heavily, clutching the fabric of his shirt. you didn’t want to let him go. his fingers laid idle inside of your tightened walls, not wanting to release the feeling either. not with his hand drenched, his pants soaked, and his forehead dripping with his own sweat. his cock had been painfully hard, a pool of his precum seeping through his pants, combining with your own. it was a beautiful, disastrous mess that he’d initiated between you two, but he felt no regret. 

you sniffled against his shoulder, breezing with the cold air, and let your arms wrap around his neck. you hid your face against his body, attempting to bury your embarrassment within him. you had just come on the balcony atop lando’s lap. what fucking world were you living in? you’ve had feelings for him for what felt like a century, and now a dream that you didn’t even know was possible of coming true, came at the palm of his hand. 

lando couldn’t believe it either. you were tucked against his body like a hand to a glove, a perfect fit, breathing heavily, shaking, against his palms. your cunt roared with a beating heat, swimming with the orgasm he had given you. proud wasn’t a word that could surmount to this feeling. 

and he said nothing when he fixed the straps of your dress, gauging a more presentable you. he tucked your hair behind your ears, fingertips loitering on the expanse of your cheek. you smiled into him, coming to raise your head to meet his eyes. 

his eyes fell to your blistering lip. the swollen buds that he sucked the blood out of. his forehead met yours, and neither of you said anything; just a soft breath and heartbeat between the two of you. 

within seconds he took his hand from your cunt, washed his fingers against his tongue, and let it fall to your bare back. you were stunned at the motion, but drool pooled in your mouth. you gawked, openly, just how hot the action was alone. 

lando stood with you in his arms. one hand on the back of your neck, the other cupping your thigh. your legs, whilst trembling, tightened around his waist for support as he took you through the quiet villa. the only lights were the candles that were still burning, but you didn’t see them, your head hiding in the crevice of his neck. he hummed quietly, a rhythm that had your eyes beginning to lull with sleep. 

you heard him open a door quietly and shuffle around the mess on the floor. your room, no doubt. you’d left a pile of clothes as a welcome for yourself when you were picking out your attire for the evening. it didn’t help him, either, by being surrounded by your scent. your perfume, you, it swirled around him, taunting him. dared him to fuck his best friend’s little sister. 

lando bent down to lay you into your bed. you fell against your will, hands still upright for him to fall in. but he just couldn’t let himself. 

he did, however, let his fingers trail across your bare thighs, your knees, your calves, ankles, until he was met with your heels. his hand lingered on the back of your ankle, angling one of your feet upright to slip a shoe off. his fingers moved to the other, placing the expensive pair on the ground. you stretched your hands above your head, falling deep within the pillowy, feathery embrace. 

you stared up at him. your hair messy, dress disheveled, eyes heavy with exhaustion. and he looked down at you, moving forward to let his fingers trail up your sternum, the perks of your breasts. the moment was so quiet. only your breaths and his own could be heard– and maybe the pounding of your heart. 

he looked beautiful looming above you, hovering with a protective, apologetic look. apologetic? what did he have to apologize for? except for a mind-blowing orgasm, that is. 

his hand froze against the place of your heart. palm flattening, he could feel just how fast your heart was racing. you grabbed his wrist, thumb sliding up and down against his veins. he swallowed. 

“don’t know if we should do this again.” he spoke quietly. 

your heart broke. you sat up straight in your bed, confusion written all across your features. you thought that this was something between the two of you. that he wanted you. and now what was happening? did you do something wrong? 

“why?” you asked, feeling tears well in your eyes. you couldn’t help it. the girl inside of you had come to the forefront, her dreams of being with lando being squashed beneath the weight of his words. 

he sighed deep, unable to meet your eyes. he was about to say something before you interrupted him.

“you don’t want me?” 

his head snapped in your direction, almost breaking clean off his spine with just how fast he went. he shook his head, hand coming to cup your cheek, but you shook his affections away. your hand dropped from his wrist, wanting to feel nothing of his heart. 

he spoke your name. twice. three times. you looked back toward him, tears hot in your eyes. “hey.” you focused on his voice. “you know that’s not true.” 

your brows furrowed. “do i?”

his expression dropped. 

he fell to his knees before the side of the bed. an action no man has ever done for you. you gaped visibly, watching as both his hands came to rest upon your knees. he leaned into you. stubble tickling your thighs. 

your name was sweet on his tongue. 

“what would your brother say–?” 

“fuck what he thinks.” you leaned down. 

lando’s head dropped between your thighs, taking a deep inhale of your skin. you shivered, letting your hand rest on the back of his neck. 

“we need t’give it time.” he said upon raising his head. he looked at you with a glimmer in his eyes. the moonlight shimmered through your windows, casting a vague gracefulness of illumination across his tanned skin. 

“how much?” 

lando wasn’t sure. his silence was an answer enough. you sighed, letting your body fall against the bed once more. he lifted himself to sit beside you, placing both hands at your hips to cage you in. 

“hey,” he said to gauge your attention back to him. “we’ll figure it out, won’t we?” 

you wanted to believe him. but you weren’t sure that you could. lando leaned down to kiss your sternum against the fabric of your dress. 

“you still want me?” you asked, voice cracking with your emotions. 

“i’ve wanted you,” he said against your stomach, “since the day you came down in that white skirt.” 

you gasped, head tilting to look at him. that was one of the first times you met him– third, maybe– you remembered which one he was talking about. it was a skirt with little white bows, embellished with threads of ribbon and lace. 

“the one with the bows?” 

“that fuckin’ skirt…” he scoffed with a laugh. you were still floored, but managed to smile. you couldn’t believe his confession, finding it unbelievable. unbelievable that maybe, maybe you had a chance with him. the girl inside of you was squealing, but the woman didn’t quiver beneath him. 

there was a momentary silence between the two of you. but you shifted, moving to stand. lando watched you from his perch on your bed, hair ruffled and eyes red from his own wrought of emotions. you didn’t expect this from him. this sensibility. 

you began to strip with your back turned to him. he watched. silently. 

you stripped of your panties and threw them over your shoulder. lando caught them, still gawking at you. “keep them.” you spoke. “you ruined them.” 

that had him laughing. but he kept them, staring down at the lace material. you threw on a large shirt from your suitcase that reached your mid thigh. you finally spun around to meet his eye, but he didn’t dare move. 

“what?” you asked, his staring becoming more intense. 

he swallowed. shook his head.

“you better go.” you spoke for him as you approached your bed, narrowly dodging him when you threw yourself down. his eyes raked over you, speechless. “lando.” you reaffirmed, bringing him out of his haze. he let out a sigh and stood, hand coming to brace the back of his neck. 

he lingered before opening your door, glancing at the dress on the ground. and then he was gone, shutting your door behind him, before falling to his own bed. you were lucky to find sleep that night, and it came easy with your exhaustion. but anxiety thrummed through your mind, bustling with a pint of rejection. it was so sweet from his tongue, but it hurt all the same. 

lando laid in his bed before he showered. changed. laid in his bed with the thought of you. how did this happen? how could he forfeit a lifelong friendship? it was simple, really. you were the most beautiful woman he’s ever met, and he couldn’t ever let you go. he’s always watched you from a distance. liking your posts, viewing your instagram stories. he was obsessed with you in more ways than one, but that was a secret for him and him alone. 

yet, he couldn’t get max out of his mind. how he would react to him? to you? fuck, the thoughts were brewing a storm inside of his head. the damage had already been done, his heart already thrumming with the essence of you in its wake. you spread through the blood in his veins, latching onto his vitality like a parasite. though he welcomed the thought, the wonder of you overtaking his life. 

that was a thought that he could fall asleep to. and he did, snoring with a good guzzle that had you tossing and turning. 

the morning came and went. you were up early, as you promised max, but took time planning your wardrobe. you wore a bathing suit beneath your choice of clothing, but what was essential was the short, white, skirt that rode mid-rise on your waist. 

the shirt you wore was thin, sheer, a light beige. it had straps that came down to tie a bow between your breasts, and cropped enough to leave heaven to the imagination. for one man in particular, that was your goal.

‘i don’t know if we should do this again.’ 

fuck that. 

you skipped down the steps and were met with max awake bright and early. he had been cooking breakfast, a favorite of yours, and was just about finishing up before he glanced towards you. 

“morning!” came his preppy voice. he was wearing a thin white shirt and swim trunks, ready to take on the day to swim. 

“good morning.” you sat down at the lush kitchen island, max sliding a plate of food in front of you. you dug in immediately. 

“woah,” max commented, sitting down beside you with a cup of tea. “relax. thought we were going swimming?” 

you coughed. “we are.” you continued to finish your food with haste. “just hungry.” 

you heard more steps come down the stairs. but you didn’t turn your head until max did, his eyes brightening as his close friend was approaching.

“mate,” max said, eyeing up lando. “you look like shit. did ‘ya sleep last night?” 

lando hummed with his tired voice, already prepared to go swimming as well. he wore a black shirt with papaya swim trunks. you ogled at him before he looked at you, turning away quickly once he skirted his eyes towards your direction. 

“slept great.” 

you scoffed. 

max and lando turned towards you. the fork in your hands dropped and your eyes widened. a blush creeped onto your cheeks. 

“you snore,” you commented, still refusing to look at him. “you know that?” 

max turned towards lando. “your rooms are next to each other?” the words were poignant, aimed as a remark to the british driver. he simply shrugged his shoulders in response, not finding any reason to engage. 

you stood with your plate in hand, making headway for the sink. from behind, you could feel a pair of eyes heating the plane of your back. you weren’t stupid. and neither was he, knowing exactly what you had done this morning. 

the skirt you wore was a reminiscence of his confession the previous night. it brought back the childlike memories of grade school. a time when life was simpler, and you were just a girl, and he was just a boy. but he knew you weren’t that girl anymore. a woman grown, you were elegant. he didn’t understand how you were related to max, a scruffy rascal, but he was happier for that. 

when you turned on the water for the sink, lando approached you. max had been tending to his phone, scrolling through social media, so he hadn’t been paying attention. lando’s shoulder brushed against your own when you were scrubbing, desperate to say something. 

“you–”

“max,” you interrupted lando, turning off the water and turning towards your brother. lando took a side step away from you, giving you space when max looked up from his phone. you received a side eye from the british driver, his lip curling with pettiness. he saw what you were doing now. was this your form of punishment? 

max responded with a ‘hm?’ “you want me to cook tonight?” you offered, and max glanced at lando, who never stopped looking at you. you saw max’s expression tense. 

“why not. could save us some money, won’t it?” he said, waiting for lando to add on. “right, lando?” 

lando spun around, releasing his tight grip on the counter. he took a sharp breath in, nodding his head in agreement. you watched as a blush creeped onto his face. you bit on the inside of your cheek, but weren’t expecting lando to retaliate. 

he spoke your name, which had your head lifting. “what happened to your lip?” 

you froze. eyes widening. your own lip twitched with a remedy of a snarl, and he bit back, his nose curling with distaste. 

max approached you two, observing your scabbed lip from the night before. “shit. he’s right. what happened?” 

you reached back to clench the marble counter beneath your fingers. “uh–” lando held back his devious smile. “bit it in my sleep, ‘spose.” 

max simply shrugged his shoulders, and headed for the backyard where the pool was. when the door shut, you let out a sigh. lando stepped in front of you, caging you in with his arms. his head dipped to your shoulder, his curls brushing against your cheek. 

“get off me,” you commented with grit, biting your words. lando shook his head, not moving. 

“don’t play this with me,” he said, lifting his head with a deep inhale. you raised a brow at him, having absolutely no idea what he meant. 

“said we weren’t going to do this again, didn’t you?” you made him sit with his words. make him roll in the fucking mud. “we’re not. and if we were–” you shoved his chest with both your hands, which had him lurching backward. he didn’t go far. “i’d fucking win.” 

he invaded your space again, leaning his lips towards yours. you felt his breath again, his scent creeping into your nose. it was like he never left. 

“y’sure ‘bout that?” he said with a light tone, teasing you with the vibrato of his words. you swallowed a lump in your throat. 

but you stood your ground. “positive.” 

lando lingered for a second longer, leaning closer to your lips, and you thought he was going to kiss you out in the open kitchen. “whatever you say.” were the only words he said before he leapt away from you suddenly, leaving your exposed body cold. 

he followed you out to the pool, never leaving enough space between you two. but you had other plans–sticking by max’s side would surely drive him insane. 

so you sat beside your brother all day. in the pool chair next to him. tanning, reading a book, scrolling on your phone– it didn’t matter. it wasn’t long before the rest of your brother’s friends joined everyone by the pool. 

most of them were in the pool by the afternoon. you had made your way to the kitchen, shedding of your skirt and top. left in your swimwear, you wanted a snack. 

in the bowls of fruit you found, you pulled some mango, strawberries, and bananas. you cut them with a knife from the drawer, and put them in a bowl. there was more than enough fruit for everyone, but you took some of your favorites in the meantime. 

the sun was hot that day, and you had forgotten your sunglasses. sunscreen on your head would cause greasy hair, and you didn’t want that. so you searched briefly in the kitchen for any sort of hat that someone left, and you found one. 

it was a papaya hat. with mclaren’s logo, and a number 4 on it. you smirked, bringing the hat atop your head. 

it fit nicely and you grabbed the bowl of fruit. you made your way back outside to the patio and your brother noticed you immediately. he called your name, and you sauntered over. 

lando and his mates had been in the pool playing with a frisbee, but as soon as max had said your name, he was looking over his shoulder. he went speechless. 

with his hat atop your head and your exposed body, he could help but drool at the sight of you. a droplet trailed down his chin, but he dunked the lower half of his mouth into the pool before anyone saw. 

“for us?” max asked towards the bowl of fruit. you popped a slice of mango into your mouth, biting tenderly into the piece before nodding your head. lando swallowed tightly, practically shaking beneath the surface of the water. 

you placed the bowl on the wooden table and stood back as you were met with the onslaught of a crowd of wet dudes. you backed up towards the stairs of the pool, ready to hop in yourself. you thought yourself a genius– having the entire pool to yourself while they ate. but before you stepped in, your elbow was caught in a warm palm.

lando faced you with his bare chest dripping with chlorine, hair ruffled and damp. droplets of water slithered down his cheeks, which you felt tempted to rub away with your thumb, but you retained from stretching out your hands. 

he simply stared at you. and you stared at him. 

then he flicked the end of the cap with his pointer finger and smirked, raising his brows with a teasing fashion. he had the nerve to glance at your chin, narrowing his eyes. you didn’t have time to react before his own thumb came to wipe away a droplet of mango juice from your chin. 

the action was fast, unnoticed by anyone around you. you blushed instantly, freezing in place. lando popped his thumb into his mouth, tongue visibly swirling around the fingertip. he made a humming sound, approving of the taste. 

“tastes sweet.” he muttered to you. he raised his eyes, hooded beneath the glare of the sunlight. “not my favorite, though.” 

holy shit

you thought you were going to pass out. 

with your eyes flared wide, you spun away from him, throwing the hat to the side, and dove straight into the pool. 

you needed to cool off. desperately. and your time in the pool did. when you finally climbed out, max was lounging in the pool chair beneath an umbrella. you joined him in your seat, drying yourself off with your towel. lando was watching the entire time, sitting opposite to max. 

when you finally laid down with the towel of your bare legs, max scoffed at his phone. clearly, he was trying to get your attention. 

“what?” you said, the hat you had thrown off was now back in your lap. 

“look,” max handed you his phone, and you immediately rolled your eyes. it was a picture on instagram of your ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend. his new girlfriend that he cheated on you with. he was a fucking asshole, and max knew that from the very beginning. 

“ugh,” you groaned, handing his phone back to him. max took it and was about to keep scrolling. 

“what?” lando asked, curious now to see what the two of you were grumbling about. max handed him his phone, but he was still confused who he was looking at. 

“her ex,” max commented with a rumble. lando’s eyes shot up at you, watching your expression shift. lando was now investigating thoroughly, scrolling through this guys posts. he still had some of you up, and it only angered him. it angered him to an unfair degree, feeling the pinnacle of jealousy, although entirely unwarranted. 

“i brought him to a race once,” you pointed out, unable to look at either of them. instead, you settled on the water in the pool. “barcelona, last year.” your arms crossed over your chest. 

lando raised a brow. “he was that leach for leclerc, wasn’t he?” you were surprised that he remembered, but nodded your head. it wasn’t a good memory. he had abandoned you the minute you arrived at the race in search of the ferrari driver, and had to manage yourself alone in the crowds. it was miserable, but at least you got to see a good show. 

“yeah,” you commented with a huff. “fucking asshole.” 

“asshole.” max mirrored you. 

“why did it end, then?” lando was pushing the boundaries, but max didn’t seem to notice or mind. 

though you did. 

you didn’t want to relive the thought. the embarrassment. the entire fucking heartbreak that you pathetically went through. 

“because i was stupid.” is all you said before you stood with your towel, making your way inside without another word. 

max turned to face lando and smacked him on the shoulder. “the fuck did you ask for?” came his harsh words. lando was stunned, not intending to chase you away.

“shit, sorry i–” lando was quick to rise to his feet, though, not even glancing back at max before he chased after you. “i’ll fix it,” he promised before disappearing inside, and max simply shrugged, wondering just how lando could work his wonders. though he doubted he truly could. 

lando called your name from deep inside the villa but you were already half way up the steps. you froze when you heard his voice, stifling back any sounds from your chest. he caught up to you, standing a step beneath you. 

“i’m sorry–” he said, “i was just—”

“just what, lando?” you grumbled, truly not wanting to hear his words. “you wanna know just how embarrassed i was? huh? when i found he was fucking one of my best friends?” 

lando stood there, shocked, coming to hold out his arms for you to fall into. but you didn’t. “i was such a fucking idiot. it was right in front of me but i didn’t believe it. how smart of me, right?!” your voice raised when lando cornered you at the top of the stairs, your back against the wall. 

you couldn’t help but spew emotional nonsense. “oh woe is me, truly, you’d probably end up doing the same–”

lando caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, his other hand leaning against the wall. “what did you say?” 

you gulped, not meaning for the words to slip off your tongue. shit. he looked pissed. pissed that you would think so lowly of him. 

“i–” you gulped. “i didn’t mean–”

his hand tightened around your chin. “really? that what you think of me?” no, no, no! you didn’t. you didn’t. you shook your head in his hold, your eyes largening with your emotions. 

“if you were my girl,” lando whispered to you, not breaking eye contact with you once. “you’d know it.” 

but you dared to disagree. 

“what am i then?” you challenged, your voice raising in the echoing halls. “what was i yesterday, a whore?” 

he bared his teeth at you, displeased with what you called yourself. his hand from your chin latched onto the side columns of your throat and your mouth parted with a delectable pleasure. 

“you needed me, yeah?” he was sure to comment. but you didn’t budge. 

“get your hands off me.” you bit out. 

“you didn’t seem to mind yesterday.” 

“clearly you didn’t do a good job for a second run,” the words pinched his ego, though the hand against the wall came to slide around your waist. 

“weren’t you begging for me? or did i make that up?” you seethed at his cocky tone. 

“think you had too much to drink. i’d never beg.” it was a straight lie that came from your lips. he knew it. you knew it. but you pretended to keep your strength. 

“‘touch me, please,’” he mocked in your tone. 

“must’ve dreamed it. thinking ‘bout me, lan?” the nickname was new for him on your tongue and he bristled, along with the blood soaring to his cock. 

“‘more, need–” you slapped your hand over his mouth.

“fuck you.” you hissed. his mouth curved to a smile before he let his grip on you go. 

“we’ll see if you’re lucky tonight.” 

you brushed past him with a scoff and he stood there idly, watching your hips sway side to side. he chuckled at your retreat and you flipped him off before entering your room and slamming the door. you were done with these fucking games, his toying words. he had no right to approach you after finding out about your ex. 

you immediately turned on the shower in your room and stripped of your bathing attire. it was when you were searching aimlessly through your drawer of panties, you remembered that you were missing a pair. 

a smirk grew on your face, and you couldn’t help but feel that you held the power. 

a few hours had passed after your interaction with lando, and he couldn’t help but feel anxious. you were missing from the entirety of the activities around the pool, and he even dared knock on your door, but he resisted. though it tore him apart, thinking about your writhing anger. 

but you, you had other plans. you’d showered off from the pool, taken care of your skin, and taken a nap before you were to get up and make dinner. 

you had come up with the idea for dinner. 

fish. as everyone enjoyed. 

you smirked to yourself as you made your way down the steps. it was quiet, and you heard no churning of others about the halls. it was nice to revere yourself in the solitude of the late afternoon, hoping that you would have the entirety of the downstairs floor yourself. 

you got to work with your scheme and pulled out the fish from the fridge. whatever you were making, you were sure it would be delicious. 

and when the meal was just about done, you heard a strangulated sound of ample footsteps down the staircase. you were just about done setting the dinner table when max soared through the kitchen, aiming right for the pans and pots of ingredients you sniffed.

“woo!” he cheered, clearly delighted with your cooking. the other boys at his side were quick to mimic him, agreeing with his statement. your hands clamped over your heart, showing how happy you were that they were thrilled.

“well,” you urged. “go sit! i’ll bring it over.” 

they didn’t hesitate. beginning to take spoonfuls of rice, vegetables, and the fried fish you whipped up, they were eager to get a headstart. your thoughts wondered where the british driver was, but your thoughts were answered when you heard the last pair of footsteps through the grand foyer. 

you just finished placing the bowls of food in front of the eager boys. they weren’t polite in waiting for everyone to sit down, but you didn’t mind. 

it was an afterthought  for what his meal would be. of course you knew he despised fish. you listened to everything he said when you were younger, years ago, and never forgot. 

you leaned against the kitchen aisle, facing him, and he immediately recoiled at the smell. his nose turned upright, curling upward with his lip, and you saw the sparkle of his canines. 

lando approached you, the stove, and took a glance at what the helpings were. he turned his head over his shoulder, giving you a knowing look, which you returned with a small shrug and a smirk.

“witch.” he uttered, hands clamping around the edges of the countertops, unsure what he was going to fish through the cabinets for. 

“don’t worry.” you said, lando turning to raise his brows. you slid him a bowl filled with greens, vegetables, and a little bit of rice. “plenty for you, don’t you think?” 

you cocked your head toward the empty seat, but he instead took the one right next to you. the bowl in your hands was pungent with sprouts, and even you recoiled. you placed it down in front of him, letting your hand linger on his back. “i’m no dietician,” you said quietly. “but i tried to substitute as much as i could.” 

“thank you,” he said through clenched teeth, fucker. 

you were quaint with your serving, taking enough for your fill, and sat down swiftly. conversation grew between all of the men, your brother included, and you ate in silence. you had done more thinking about your situation with your ex, and recoiled with a sickening feeling in your stomach. lando watched from the corner of his eye, noticing how little you touched your fork with your lips and spun your spoon amongst the rice. 

he knew he said tribulating words. taunted you. teased you. but he did not mean for it to stretch as far as it had. you were twiddling with the accessories on your wrists, barely saying a word the entire meal, and he felt that it was his fault. you’d only gone as far enough to tease him with a full fish basking over an open flame on the stove. 

it wasn’t shameful when he was devouring the meal you had cooked. despite the repugnant smell of fish lingering in the air, your food was…divine. he wasn’t all that surprised, but it was a nice treat to end one of the first full days. 

but the most courageous ideas filled his head. he kept looking at you, staring, out of the corner of his eye. you were entirely blue with your melancholy, and he resented the soured expression upon your beautiful face. he took it as his own responsibility to relieve you of your worries. your anxieties. insecurities. as it was his fault that they emerged. 

it didn’t take long before beneath the table, lando’s hand wandered. he began with a soft graze of your knee which had you sitting up straight, white skirt you dressed in before remaking its appearance around your hips. 

you turned your head to face him, eyes flaring with wonder of just what the fuck he was doing. but his expression stayed nonchalant, undeterred from his conversation with your brother. you decided that you should play the same game, sliding into the roll of uncaring of his soft touches.

though it was much easier said than done. 

his fingers were daunting. restless. he took a break to sip his water with his opposite hand, divulging into deeper conversation as his hand trailed higher. it was then that he spread his palm wide over the span of your thigh, bare, pinching at the skin. you leaned over the table, leaning your head into your palms that were supported by your elbows upon the table. 

you sighed, your other leg jumping up and down. you attempted to listen to whatever they were talking about– football, instagram, the races– but you couldn’t tune in for long. not when he tugged the fabric of your skirt to the side, and let his pinky dance across your folds. fuck. 

attempting to muffle your struggle, you brought your glass to your lips, sipping in promptitude. you leaned back, tucking your chair as far as you could against the table. it finally caught lando’s attention, briefly, when he gave you a once over with a cheeky smile. max caught the action, raising a brow at you, but you simply swallowed down your drink and crossed your hands over your lap. 

your lap, that so happened to house lando’s hand between your thighs. your cunt was clothed by your panties, but you could still feel the pressure of his finger lodging against your slit. 

you wrapped your hand around his wrist, gripping tight with the desire for him to stop, but he would do no such thing. he went as far as using his ring finger to stroke the cotton of your underwear, grazing over your clit as if it were nothing. he circled around your tender bundle of nerves, refusing to leave it alone. 

your second hand came to wrap around his wrist, higher up on his forearm, pleading indefinitely to halt his movements. your thighs clenched impossibly tight around his hand, suffocating him, but it didn’t stop him. it only had him steadfast in his pursuit– to get you to come at this dinner table. 

with your force against his forearm, you were sure to leave bruises of your fingertips in your wake. but you didn’t care. through your tension, he could feel your pleasure. he knew that you would writhe, squirm, but you couldn’t. not here. 

you found yourself trembling. your grip around his wrist softened, lip caught between your top set of teeth. you were lucky that the tablecloth was acting as a barrier between any wandering eyes–though, shamefully, that was the last thing on your mind. 

but right now, you felt yourself coming to a clearing. a light at the end of the tunnel in the name of your orgasm. shit. 

it took only one quick glance around the room to see that everyone was done with their meals. with empty plates, they were awaiting more. and more you shall give, best to get up rather than submit to lando’s toilsome teasing. you couldn’t give him this pleasure. not when he toyed with you, refused to admit to any truths that might belittle his feelings. 

you finally shoved his hand away. it took all the might you had, and it even had his head shifting in your direction. you stood, and he immediately tugged the hem of your skirt down beneath the table cloth. if anyone noticed, they didn’t say a word. 

“dessert, anyone?” 

there was a small rally of cheers, and you smiled. it was the only thing that could get your mind off of lando’s hand between your legs. the flushed expression you wore didn’t wane until you were alone in the kitchen. 

it was ice cream that was for dessert, and that would be enough. you put out some toppings for them to choose from, and returned with the platter. you set it toward the center of the table, and the pickings were gone instantly. everyone had their own serving, side bowl, ready to go. 

but lando waited for you to settle back in before he grabbed a pint of vanilla. he nudged the ice cream scooper towards your direction, a silent indication that had him asking if he could serve yours. you simply nodded, even though your cunt burned with the phantom touch of his fingers. he did that to you in no way another man could. leave you wanting more. sex with your ex boyfriend had been a joke. you never came. ever. you only did when it was at your own hand, your own touch. but with lando…

lando on that balcony, dressed in the pale moonlight. you, his angel, glowing halo of energy illuminating your face, unraveled before him. he doesn’t think he’s ever met such a woman receptive to his touch. he’s fucked girls before, too many for max’s taste–hence his displeasure– but they weren’t like you. they didn’t squirm, whimper, in his hold. they’d moan like they were being televised, recorded, ready to be on a screen play.

you were natural. beautiful. incapable of being anyone but yourself. he admired you for such bravery, commending you silently through the cosmic planes. though you could not hear the words from him, you felt a warmth coming from his direction despite the cold treat being scooped into the dish in front of you. 

he gave you more than enough and smiled. a real one, you caught. it was a break from the humidity, a breeze that was most welcomed upon your skin. fuck. you were supposed to be mad at him, weren’t you? weren't you supposed to plot your volatile revenge for him touching you? 

you were. 

when he settled beside you with his own serving, you were quick to shuffle a bit closer to him. the chair scooted across the floor, a vibration felt beneath his own, and he bristled. what were you up to? you appeared to be happier, a bit less caught up in your own head, and that he could be grateful for. you even engaged in a few conversations with max’s friends. 

they were lovely chaps, truly, but they were his friends. not yours. 

lando was just about to respond to a question that max had asked him, but he coughed on his ice cream, the feeling of your fingertips darting across his crotch taking a huge galavanting surprise out of him. he didn’t know that you had such austerity within you, but it was a welcome discovery.

but your skillfulness was not. 

the outline of his cock beneath his shorts was obvious. you felt the light curve, the tip, the base all beneath your palm. it was an empowering sensation, hidden beneath the table cloth, and lando had to outstretch both of his hands to steady himself. 

“y’alright, mate?” max asked when lando coughed. the british driver nodded beside you, leaning forward. 

“yeah. fine. carry on?” max repeated his question for lando. before he was about to answer for a second time, your hand curled around the base of his cock, feeling full in your palm. your thumb brushed against his tip, smiling to yourself when you felt a light wet patch against your finger. 

he sucked in a tight breath, but answered max with a strained voice. he clenched his jaw tight and his tongue poked the inside of his cheek. you knew you were riling him, and it was paying off to see him flustered. 

you continued your stroking motion discreetly beneath the table. the excitement of being caught was perhaps too thrilling, and the presence of your hand against his cock only excited you further. he was big. that was enough for you to be floored. your guesses as a edgy teenage girl were correct, and the woman inside of you purred at the idea of him inside of you. 

little did you know, he thought the same. when his fingers were lodged inside your hot folds, your deathly tight grip clamping around him, he knew that he had to have you. he knew it years ago, too, but just how pretty you were atop of him…how receptive you were to his touch– it was a pillar of pleasure that continued to build and build, until it will ultimately fall. 

until it will fall, and he is deep inside of you. with the outline of his cock embedded in your lower belly he would feel satisfied, with his cum dripping from your cunt, he could find a peace from this torturous lust that overtook every fucking part of his mind. he needed you. carnally. in whatever fashion labeled him as a barbarian, he would hunt you down if that is what you wanted. 

and maybe you did. 

you wanted him to chase you. to fight for you. to appease the teenage girl inside of you that yearned for his affections, his oblivious attentions. you felt that you deserved it for all the work you put in through your teendom. the boys you rejected. the time you gave up to attend his races. 

was that such a bad thing to be wanted? to be wanted above all, by the man of your wonderlike dreams? but was he so dreamy, then, when he glanced at you with his needy, preening eyes when you held his cock so firm in your hand? 

the answer was undoubtedly yes. 

you felt the pulse of his cock against your hand. it was a delectable vibration that beat for you of all people. you felt more than divine prowess gripping his length, such a dirty, lewd, action beneath the table. and none of them knew what you had been doing. how you were affecting him. it was a secret wasn’t it? 

the catalyst for your movements was about to be thwarted when he readjusted his hips in the chair, bucking fiercely against your touch, your hold on his dick. 

conversations around you began to dull down to a minimum. the night was ending, and he felt himself rearing a release. but he couldn’t. not here. fuck. he gripped on your hand beneath the table, shivering, shaking, as he pleaded you with his eyes. they were wide drawn, glossed with a desperation that you needed permanently in your life. it was a face you wouldn’t forget. ever. how he yearned to cum in your hand, but it wasn’t the right time. when would be the right time? 

“since you made dinner,” max began, letting out a grueling burp, “i say we lot ‘ought to tidy up, shall we?” the boys nodded and hummed amongst each other in agreement. they made quick pace clearing the table, and this was lando’s excuse to rip himself free of your devilish hand. though he wanted nothing more than to cum with your sleek fingertips, he had to be nonchalant about it all. 

he cleared his throat when he stood, feigning a quietness that felt unusual, but no one said a word. you smiled to yourself, pulling your hand away back to your lap. it was damp from his precum, sordid with an urge to pop a finger or two into your mouth. and you did. pretending to clean yourself from any residue of icecream, you licked your fingers clean. 

lando stared. unable to take his eyes off of you. he lingered with his hand around your bowl and plate, his breath hitching in his throat. devil woman, he thought. 

when the dishes were loaded into the dishwasher and the fragile ones laid out to dry, you finally stood. you arched your back, stretching your limbs, but felt cold on your cunt. it was the air conditioning that cooled you, reminding you that he was the one to tease you first beneath the table. 

your brother bid you goodnight with a kiss to your cheek, whilst the others thanked you sincerely for the meal. you were grateful to receive such gratitude, but it wasn’t from the man you wanted it the most. 

tucking your chair into the table, you made your way into the grand kitchen. with its tiled walls, marbled kitchen island, lando stood at the epicenter. with a towel in his hand, drying the last few of the dishes, he watched you saunter in. 

his tongue poked at the inner corner of his cheek with a clenched jaw. boy, did he have words for you. you and your actions. how you ruined him at the dinner table whilst talking to your brother of all people. it was like you wanted them to see–

ah

ah

when you joined him side by side, the pair of you said nothing for a moment. but the moment when lando scanned the room front to back, he dropped the towel and grabbed onto you.

he spun you around so your front pushed against the kitchen aisle, your back arching against the palm of his hand. his second went around the front of your throat, pulling your head up to his own. 

“that what you wanted?” he growled into your ear, trembling with his edged orgasm teetering on the tailend of a massacre. “hmm? tell me, baby.” 

you were at a loss of words, dizzied from the grip around your throat. you wished that he would leave bruises. 

then he bent you over the counter, the cool surface eliciting a gasp from deep within you. his hand flexed over your back, scaling your spine. 

“being a fucking tease…” 

“you started it.” you retaliated with a childlike immaturity. 

lando chuckled as his crotch came flush against your cunt. your wet, dampening cunt by the second. the hand that had been latched to your throat moved to your skirt, toying with the fabric. he scoffed, feeling the wetness of your panties. “bet you’re still wet anyways.”

you were.

your face flushed. 

“dirty fucking girl.” he said quietly, a comment to himself, but loud enough for you to hear. you swayed your hips against his, desperate for a flickering sensation of friction. 

“ah ah,” he tsked, landing a slap to your ass. the sound ricocheted through the echoing kitchen. “think you deserve it after tonight?”

you mewled in response, your cheek freezing against the countertop. the heat from your asscheek was enough to satisfy you for the moment, your thighs clenching together. he ogled, head twisting in a fashion that was revered with lust. 

with a fist he made a makeshift ponytail of your hair, pulling your head back against his chest. “hmm?” 

“no.” 

“no?” he’d repeat. you nodded your head, submitting to him without question. he was peeved that you didn’t fight back, but would take your submission with earnestness. but you had other plans brewing inside your head. ones that you knew would drive him up the fucking wall.

but that would come later. for now, you let your head fall backward onto his shoulder, and looked up at him. “let me fix it…”

your whimpering had his eye twitching, lip curling, arms flexing. it was a gut reaction to how soft your voice had become, how eager he knew you were. 

his hold on you loosened, and you took this as your opportunity to spin around and drop to your knees in front of him. you couldn’t help but gape at his thundering cock beneath his shorts, salivating at just the thought of him filling your mouth. 

but he said nothing else, stunned in his place; how could he not be when you regarded him with ardor, quivering hands?

“please…” you said, your cheek coming to nuzzle against his thigh, one hand gripping the back of his calf. he couldn’t reject you like this. not when he wanted you so dearly. 

a hand came to run through your hair atop your head. an nonverbal, encouraging pet. you hummed, making quick work of lowering his shorts, his briefs, and his cock sprung free with vitality. it was red hot, pulsating with blood, beating a bright scarlet for you. it glistened with his own slick for you. 

“go on, love,” he was breathless. “you can take it, can’t you?” 

you nodded furiously, a whine leaving your lips. with your determined fingers, you wrapped them around his base, pumping your hand back and forth. it didn’t take much before he was leaking over your palm, and you let your lips swirl around his tip.

his head fell back in pleasure, fingers tightening his grip in your hair. with his empty hand, he gripped the island to support his weight from toppling upon you. 

he was both sweet and salty, a sensation you’ve never tasted before. you continued your relentless pursuit on his tip until he was wrought with desperation, and let his hips buck forward until he was half way down your throat. 

you groaned in protest, your eyes watering with tears, but took him like the good girl you were. he wanted you, and you wanted him. you could ask for nothing more. 

“just like that, baby–” he stuttered out, voice cracking when you took him whole down your throat. you breathed through your nose. “fuck,” he cursed, your lips puckering, even stimulating him with the top ridges of your teeth. he let out a deep moan. 

“perfect,” he commented, but you thought you misheard him for a moment. “you’re perfect.” 

it persuaded you further–not like much was needed– and sped up your pace. faster and faster you went, guzzling him perfectly. with your other hand that gripped his calf, calm to knead at his balls. that was the moment he faltered, unable to withstand your feverish tongue. he had to bite back his own groans of pleasure. 

“where?” he demanded of you. you paused, but didn’t take long for your answer. he was holding himself back as much he could, his hips bucking down the hot cavern of your throat, but you didn’t relent. my mouth, your actions screamed, and he didn’t think twice.

before you knew it your mouth was loaded with his cum, hot rods of delectable nectar from him. you were pleased, more than satisfied, that you made him cum in just a matter of minutes. 

he pulled himself out of you, letting you breathe. you swallowed, not finding him distasteful, and even showed him your bare tongue. he was panting, attempting his best to catch his breath, but managed a coarse chuckle. 

you gave his flaccid cock a singular kiss before you rose to your feet, bringing his shorts and briefs up with you. he adjusted himself before launching his lips on your own. the remnants of him were prominent on your tastebuds as he swirled his tongue into your mouth. you allowed his strength, making a sound from your throat. 

“taste like me,” he commented against your lips. you beam. 

“must’ve been good, then?” you knew it was. but you wanted to hear it from him. 

he snickered. “guess so.” 

you slapped his chest before breaking your kiss. you glanced up at him one more time before placing a kiss on his cheek, escaping his grasp. he held onto your hand, though, wondering just where you were going. not when he didn’t have you cumming on his tongue. 

“it’s past my bedtime,” you remarked, raising your brows. his own scrunched. “what?”

“let me–” 

you shushed him. 

“on the house.” 

you were gone before he could respond, skipping up the steps, ready to set your plan in motion. he didn’t know what was coming, not yet, but he surely would once you closed the door to your room, and stripped of your clothes. 

you left him there pondering. he was entirely at a loss— you skirting away with ease, high tail with that lacey material– and vanished without another word. it had lando breathing heavily, hands running through his hair. shit, he thought, this was bad. 

in the bathroom of your suite, you twisted the shower on. whilst waiting for it to heat up, you turned your attention towards the open shaft windows that you could prop open. your room is next to mine, lando’s words rang through your head. okay, you thought, game on, right?

you made sure the windows were open at a respectable distance, praying that his own would be too. he liked the cool breeze from the night, pray tell from his times of sleeping in max’s room in your childhood home. 

glancing at yourself in the mirror once, you were betting on this to work. to truly grab his attention, whilst also awarding yourself a release you’d been craving since his fingertips caressed your knee. 

into the shower you went, tilting your head back and letting the waterfall drench your scalp. it was relaxing, more than you anticipated, and your mind was able to wander to other things. like his hands. his toned, muscular arms. his neck, built intensely with strength that you’ve never seen before. in certain lights, especially beneath the italian sun, it bulged outward. you wondered what it’d feel like between your thighs. your fingers wandered along your soaked skin, breasts reacting to your touch, taut beneath your palms. 

lando had just shut the door to his room, shaking off the sweat that dribbled down his forehead. and his windows were open— the curtains swaying back and forth— and he heard your call. 

at first, the british driver thought that he was hallucinating. that he was hearing things from losing it. but there was no denying that it was your sweet siren serenading through the air, wafting against the mediterranean winds.��

a moan had been pulled from you by your own hand. your head flat against the tiles of the shower wall, you twisted until your cheek was firm against the siding. one hand came to rest on the base of your throat, gripping for comfort, while the other trailed downward to your navel, priming at your folds. 

you were swollen hot, but never to the same degree you were on his lap just the previous night. 

it was enough, though, for you to rub against your clit the way you knew your body best. a delicious combination of whimpers and moans trembling through the air. 

lando was brought to his fantasies, unbelieving that they were coming alive before him. he leaned against the windows from his room, hand clenching tight around the ledge, and listened to your whining calls, urging him, tempting him, to knock down your fucking door and fuck you like you wanted him. 

a finger slid easily inside of you. with both stimulation to your clit and your sensitive nerves inside of you, it was heaven. the hot water combined with your punitive thoughts, tracing back to lando, aroused you to a degree unfathomable to any pleasure you’ve ever felt. besides his fingers, that is. 

lando couldn’t resist. his own cock was blistering with heat, again, in just the span of ten minutes. you had just been on his knees for him. now, here you were, a siren within the night, taking him under your bewitching. 

and spellcasted he was. 

with his dick in his hands, he was dripping. your sounds became louder, prominent, for his open window. and he absorbed every droplet you gave him, a man dehydrated of the world’s most sweet nectar. he was greedy, selfish even, and knew then that he had to be yours. he didn’t give a fuck what max said, thought, cared about this moment. it would belong to him and him alone— your saccharine temper. 

he could imagine you there, thinking about just how desperate he was. how you knew what you were doing to him. how he unfolded before your voice. 

you were. 

you thought of his face. how it contorted with pleasure while you sucked him off. you’d remember the sounds he made— whimpers of desperate, wicked nature— that had you curling your finger inside of you, even becoming so bold as to add a second. it should be criminal to think of your brother’s best friend this way, but that thought came and went just as the tides changed. 

lando fisted his cock with the thought of you wrapped around him. hand draped across the ledge of the windowsill, he writhed and seethed from his own daring thoughts of you. your skirt, your pretty eyes, your wondrous nature. he was awed by you, but wanted to damn you to ruin with his touch. it pursued him further, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long.

surely he wouldn’t, not when he heard his name carry through the air. his name rolling off your tongue. his name in the form of a whimper. 

“lando,” you breathed, loud enough to surpass the stream of the water. and your stomach coiled, reaching an orgasm before you could count to three.

lando had, too, spurring loads of his come into his empty hand. it wasn’t an elegant movement— rather messy and untamed— but that’s how it was when it came to you, wasn’t it? nothing was going to be easy about this relationship he conjured up in his head, but for you, though it’d be worthwhile. 

you went to bed that night with a sleep full of your wildest, fanatical dreams that included lando. whereas he tossed and turned, unable to believe that the girl he knew in his childhood had him wrought with lust. 

the morning that followed was a quiet one. you and the rest of the vacation group of boys were headed out to one of italy’s finest beaches, chartered there by a small boat. you had opted for one of your best bathing suits and cover up pieces, looking outright chic. 

when you arrived at the beach, you stuck closely to max’s side. the entire ride, lando had been stealing glances from you, shifting awkwardly in his seat. you had your answer from your plan the previous night. he heard you. 

good, you thought, crossing your legs over one another. serves him right. 

you’d lay out your towel on the white sand. your brother joined you, laying down a few feet from you along with some of his buddies. lando kept his distance, knowing too fucking well that’d he’d pull some feral shit in front of you and your brother. 

some of the others opted for surfing. with their boards ready from the rental shack, they were catching waves with ease. you watched from your upright position, lathering yourself in spf. 

“what’dya think of chris?” your brother asked you. you turned your head, wondering what he was implying. chris was one of his good-natured, all classic, sweet boy friends. you’d known him for a good majority of your life, but never…really thought of him. 

“he’s a good guy.”  

lando was sitting up now. listening. 

“well,” max shrugged, taking your nonchalant answer with grace. “asked me if it was okay to give him your number. think he fancies you.” 

your expression dropped. chris fancied you? in what universe could he, when he couldn’t even manage a conversation with you. you weren’t even sure he could ever muster the courage to look you in the eye, for that matter. 

“and…what did you say?” 

max looked at you with his sunglasses on. you saw your reflection in them. 

“think it’s fine. ‘e’s a good lad. nice. well-mannered.” he emphasized his last point. was that a jab at your previous boyfriends? “besides…i wanna see you happy.” 

it was touching, truly, that your brother cared for you on such a protective level, but you didn’t need him meddling with your romantic life. not when the man who consumed your sexual thoughts sat a few bodies next to you. 

your eyes drifted to find lando’s. he was already glaring, sending sharp daggers your direction. he heard it all, and was about to combust with jealousy. you could see it. you’d use it. 

“maybe.” you brushed it off, but found chris in the waters. he was just coming out from the sea, and you thought this was your perfect opportunity. 

you jumped to your feet, sunglasses on, and tore your cover up from your body. you didn’t look back to know what lando’s expression was— worshiping. 

chris’ head popped up when he saw you approaching him. he shifted a bit, as if he were preening his feathers. 

“catch any good ones?” you asked, your feet touching the water. chris cleared his throat. 

“some,” he gestured to the large waves. “current is strong today.” 

you edged further into the water until your knees were covered. 

“you looked good out there, at least i think so.” you managed a smile, not entirely opposed to his company. your brother had been right. he is a nice lad. you should at least build a friendship with him, shouldn’t you? 

“really?” he was shocked. “you were watching?” 

you nodded with a hum, and continued further out into the blue waters. chris took this as an invitation and dropped his board high up on the sand and followed you in. he wasn’t as built as lando was, but you shouldn’t even be making the comparisons. 

you stopped when the water was just beneath your breasts. water seeped in through your top, and you noticed that chris’ eyes caught on the fabric. typical. 

“what do you do for work, then? are you a student?” you managed a brief conversation with him. chris met you at your side. 

“business student in scotland,” he confirmed, but he wasn’t all cocky about it. you thought that he’d boast, but he didn’t. “yourself?” 

you told him your plans. he was impressed that you’d accomplished so much at your age. 

and your conversation with him went on, but not without the darkness of lando’s envy over your shoulder. you’d taken a few glances over chris’ shoulder to see his reddened expression, watching the pair of you share a few laughs. 

he wanted this day to be fucking over. he wanted you in his bed. and he would have it one way or another— whatever it takes. 

arriving back to the villa that evening, your brother and his friends wanted to go out clubbing. it was around 8pm and the sun was beginning to set, though you didn’t feel like a night out. the sun had gotten to you, and you were rather tired. 

“you’re sure you don’t wanna go?” max asked you in the foyer, waiting for the rest of his band to go along.

“i’m sure. besides, i could use a night in.” your brother respected your choice and didn’t push you further. before he left with his friends, he did turn and leave you with one comment.

“lando’s here, too, in case you need anything.” 

and then he was gone, tailending with chris flashing you a smile. 

shit. 

shit, shit, shit. you knew you were in for it now. there was no way that you’d escape lando for the evening, unsure how he caught notice that you’d be staying in for the night. 

when the door shut and the house was empty, you raced up to your room. you’d worn a floor length slip dress when you’d gotten home, but wanted to change and lock yourself in for the rest of the night. but your situation changed drastically when you reached the first step, and saw lando leaning against the staircase from the top. 

“just you and me, yeah?”

you gulped, taking a few steps back. he looked furious yet unbothered at the same time. 

“what to do, what to do…” he began to saunter down the steps when you moved back. “in this big, empty house…?” 

he trailed after you all the way until you were on the balcony. he slipped out from the sliding door, watching as you were frantically nervous in his presence. you had no idea what he was thinking, watching you all day flirt with chris. 

your back was against the stone balustrade, hands spread wide to support yourself. your heart was racing, but you wouldn’t let him see that. wouldn’t show him the effect he had. 

lando wore a black ln4 shirt from his collection, along with tan sweatpants. it was an understatement to say he didn’t look fucking good. 

he donned a cocky smirk as he closed the distance between the two of you, leaning into your space. you felt his breath on your cheek. 

“he’s a good lad, innhe?” 

you met his eye— his blue, green eyes that were swarmed with a darkness you didn’t believe him capable of. 

“he’s nice.” you said, referring to chris. because he was. he was respectful. 

“‘he’s nice.’” lando mocked, scoffing. he turned his head to the side to look over your shoulder to the coastline that surrounded the villa. 

“yes, he’s nice.” you bit back, brows furrowing. “more than i can say for you.”

lando’s expression froze, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. his jaw tightened as he processed your words, foot tapping against the stone. 

“yeah? you don’t think i’m good to you?” 

whatever this was…you loved it. you craved him. needed him. there was a zing of electricity that ran down your spine, electrifying your cunt. your thighs tightened together and you shrugged, playing him off the best that you could. 

he tsked, tilting your chin to meet his eyes with his index finger. “we’ll see.” 

and then his lips were on yours. ravaging. starving. he was a man that has been deprived of you for far too long— twenty four hours— without your touch. it was maddening the way he was obsessed with you. how you infested every corner of his mind. you, you, and more you. 

you succumbed to his kiss with ease, your tongues battling between one another. he tasted of espresso, whereas you tasted of the apple liquor from the boat. 

he won, ultimately, a hand coming to wrap around the back of your neck. your own latched to his shoulders, another going for his hair. you tugged on the strands, eliciting a groan from him that you wished to hear over and over, time and time again. you were sure that you would, not daring to ever let him go. you had him surrounded.

his tongue lathered over yours, dripping saliva down your chin. it was messy, intangibly so, but you’d have him no other way. you wanted him like this, uncontrolled, pining, for your affections. you had him in the place you wanted, and he had more in store for you. 

he broke the kiss with a string of saliva connecting the pair of you. your eyes heavy with desire, his own mirroring the same. his kisses traveled to your jaw, your throat— but he sucked feverishly against the skin, surely to leave bruises. you gasped when you felt his teeth puncture through the top layer of your skin. “marks—” 

you reminded him, but he didn’t care.

“fuck what they think.” 

you melted where you stood. his hand came to wrap around your lower back, angling your hips to brush against his. he was already hard, you could feel it, but you were sure that you were dribbling too. 

his relentless pursuit of your neck didn’t end there. when he met the fabric of your dress, he pulled the straps down with ease, your breasts falling free. he ogled at your mounds, saliva dripping from his chin. it was, perhaps, the hottest sight you’ve ever seen. not the waterfalls of france, not the cascades of lake como— but this, right here— lando norris drooling on your chest.

“what would you do with ‘nice’?” he mumbled into your skin, attacking one of your perked nipples with his tongue. you gasped, biting your lip to retain a moan. 

“he could treat me well,” you seethed through clenched teeth, gripping the strands of his brunette curls. you felt him vibrate with a hum. 

“you’d eat him alive.” he chuckled, switching to your other nipple that was blistering with heat. your entire body radiated like the sun, but did no good beneath the moonlight. “what would he do—” a nip of his teeth against your nipple, you jolted, hips bucking forward with an anxious pension for friction. “with all of this?” 

you were at a loss for words, drowning in his sweetness. 

“let it go to waste…” lando dropped to his knees with a hand still firm on your back, the other raising the hem of your dress. he tsked, cheek flattening out against your thighs. he separated them with the strength of his neck, looking up at you from the bundled fabric. “a shame.” 

you agreed mercilessly, nodding your head with a whimper. it elicited a laugh from him. 

with a singular finger he pulled down your panties. the cotton was thin, as if you knew this would happen. they slid down your legs and you kicked them away. 

your hand was still threaded at the base of his neck, continuing to tug at his strands. it’s how you told him you needed him, but that wouldn’t be enough. not for lando.

“what do you want?” he asked, looking up at you from his seated position, face wedged between your legs. you gaped at him, breathless and flushed. 

“your mouth—” you pant, but before you could finish he licked a long stripe down your folds. “god, fuck—” 

“not god,” lando corrected. “just me, baby.” 

“lando, lando…!” you whined, back arching for a better angle for him to reach. he responded, humming against your clit, sending throttling vibrations up your navel. he was so fucking good. how? how could a man treat you in such a way? 

finding your writhing adorable, he finally let his tongue swipe past your entrance. the sensation was indescribable, but you knew that you needed more. and more he was willing to give, burying his face into your cunt. 

your honeyed cunt that he was addicted to. he knew you’d taste like heaven, but this was all the more holy than he could fathom. 

with his face buried inside of you, you were sure to see stars. here, beneath the moonlight of the italian villa, you were ethereal. he could steal glances up at you. your contorting face, toiling with passion. passion that he drank from the source, sucking you dry. 

his nose applied pressure to your clit— the perfect combination— and you knew that you weren’t going to last long. not with his jean paul scent invaded your senses, his thick hands cupping you so perfectly. one hand kneaded at the flesh of your thigh, the other swirling circles on your lower back. it was perfect. he’s perfect. 

“please, please,” you didn’t know what you were begging for. 

lando hummed, feeling your cunt clench around his tongue. he curled inside of you, teetering you upon your edge, and you were just about to let loose when he pulled his head away, leaving you trembling. 

he stood with ease, as if he wasn’t just devouring you, and you reached out for his hand. you were about to reach the peak of a mind blowing orgasm, but he denied you. with your hand wrapped around his, he knew how this would end. his lips came to your ear. 

“you were right,” he huffed. you felt his retentive anger. “don’t know if i’m nice.” 

he tugged you along through the house, hand upon your back steading your shaking stance. too impatient to help you up the steps, he swooped you into his arms bridal style. you gasped with a giggle, reflexive from his actions, and he burst open the door to his room with his shoulder. 

he dropped you onto his bed, ripping off his shirt in the process you propped yourself up on your elbows, gaping clearly at his tanned, toned skin. he smirked down at you, coming to hover above, and stripped the dress clean from your body. before him, you were bare, naked, more exposed than you've ever been with your brother’s best friend. 

you went to cover your chest, clamp your thighs shut, but lando refused. he trapped your wrists above your head, knee coming to separate your legs. you wiggled your hips hopelessly for friction, still wading heavy on your lost orgasm, but he didn’t let you graze his thigh. 

“you’re being mean,” you whined, attempting to twist out of his hold. but you didn’t prevail. 

lando’s lips met yours with a kiss of depravity. he pulled away, but you chased him, your head leveraging from the bed. 

“am i?” 

one hand left the hold on your wrists to touch your cunt. you were dripping down your thighs. he brought his fingers to his lips, wiping them clean. 

“think you like it, love.” 

you hissed when he took his hand from you, but relaxed when he kneaded one of your breasts. he was in utter reverence of your body, your beauty. you eclipsed all things that shined bright in his life, you becoming the epicenter. 

his pants were off in the next second, thrown to the corner of his room. his briefs, too, and his cock danced freely from its entrapment. your mouth watered. 

“this what you need?” his tip teased your entrance. your eyes rolled back into your head with a frenzied nod. “yeah? think you can take it?” 

“yes, yes! i can, i can, please lando…” your hand latched around the back of his neck, the other to his shoulder. 

it didn’t take him much convincing to surge forward, agonizingly slow, until he has inside of you. you choked on your breath, the air ripped right from you lungs with how he stretched you. it was alike no pleasure you’ve felt— his fingers, his tongue, all works of mastery— but you feared that nothing could compare to this. not when his hand around your breasts drop to your cunt, rubbing voracious circles against your clit. 

he let you adjust, waiting until you shook your hips from side to side, and bottomed out. it was surreal how you ended up here. but you wouldn’t go back. not for a second. not when his dick inside of you ripped through you with such passion, such love, you were inclined to imagine. 

lando’s own breaths were wild. erratic. he had to halt himself from slamming inside of you, your tightening, wet walls gleaning him of any morals he had come into this villa with. 

“move,” you urged him, breaking him free of this torment. his eyes flared wide. “need you to move.” 

need

such an all encompassing word that would drive him mad. 

he listened to you without hesitation. his hips slapping in and out of you with a heavy, dangerous pace, he never wanted this moment to end. it would feel like this every time he fucked you— the first, starstruck time— and that would be enough for him to lay to rest in an early grave.

both of you were a mess of moans, sounds of skin on skin echoing through his bedroom. the moonlight casted a white haze upon the pair of you, your eyes shimmering in the reflection. he was lost in it, in you, how seraphic you’d become in just the few days he’d been around you. how undone he became. he was a lost cause the minute you made a jest to him at the dinner table. 

his chest lowered to yours for a better, sweeter, angle and it had you screaming. your nails cut through his back, leaving reddened scratches against his tanned, freckled skin. he loved it. it had his pace quickening, and his hand working harder at your clit. you were close, he could feel it. 

feeling the way you began to tighten around him, how you became barely lucid beneath him. “so good,” you mewled, finding no other words but to praise him. 

“nothing compares,” he groaned, his head falling into the crook of your neck. “you’ll be mine then, yeah?” 

your heart surged in your chest, but your breathing remained the same. you were too fucked out to truly resonate the meaning behind his words. 

“yours, yours,” you repeated over and over until you were sent over the edge. you screamed his name, cutting through the air, cutting through him. he was left a sopping mess with his quivering hips, sloppy pace. you knew he was going to cum, too, when his teeth grinded together, and he let out a guttural moan. it churned your insides, swishing your heart through. 

he came inside of you. you felt it, the heat from his cock. but he made no effort to move. you didn’t want him to. 

the pair of you laid atop one another in his dark room. panting. catching your breaths. in unison your hearts would align. sweaty bodies melting against each other. 

his head was buried deep into your neck, breathing you in. you soothed him, just as much as you riled him to no end. 

“did you mean it?” you asked, voice hoarse. 

lando hummed. 

“about us.” 

you felt his teeth break into a smile against your skin. he raised his head to look at you. “i did.” your breath caught in your throat. “don’t give a shit what max’ll say. we’ll figure it out, won’t we?” 

you nodded in agreement. your brother would simply have to deal with this. he’d get over it in time, you’re sure, and it would be the best for both of you. no longer would you yearn at a distance for a man you thought didn’t spare you a second glance. no longer would you dream of this moment materializing before you. it had become a reality, and there was nothing more that you could be grateful for. 

he wanted you. lando wanted you. and you wanted him the same. it was one of the first times in your life that you felt safe. comforted in a newborn relationship. 

it wasn’t long before lando pulled the covers of his sheets over the two of you, holding you tight as you shifted into the shape of his body. you were a perfect fit, a missing puzzle piece that he’s been searching years for. 

and now you were here, sleeping soundly in his arms. 

lando had found sleep, too, his soft snores carrying through the room. you and him paid no attention to the fact you were sharing a bed. if anyone walked in, then they walked in. you were at peace, and that was enough.

sooner rather than later, the party-goers for the evening arrived home. they attempted their best to be quiet at such an odd hour, and decided to retire. max and chris went out to the balcony, however, and decided for a small chat. 

but before that could even commence, chris noticed a piece of black fabric loose on the patio. he stared at it from above, brows raised.

“mate,” he called max over. he met him at his side. 

“this yours?” he pointed down at it, and his face went ghastly white. no fucking way.

“motherfucker.”

tags ; @landoslutmeout @basicallyric @mybluesoul1 @toriiez @customsbyjcg-blog @sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch