#just some thoughts I was thinking tonight

[luveline]

𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Spencer gets a bad bout of amnesia. Or, your boyfriend forgets he’s your boyfriend, but he still has a crush on you. [3k]

c: fem, bombshell!reader, head injury, hospitals, amnesia, fluff, spencer can’t believe he bagged you, requested here 

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Spencer wakes to an empty room. 

He lays on a pillow too flat, neck twinging, the back of his eyes throbbing when he moves.

He struggles to breathe through his nose and lets his mouth open for a few achy breaths, his mouth dry like he’s been sucking on cotton balls. 

Spencer’s alarmed, without a clue what it is he’s done. He wonders where Gideon is, if the older man has come to see him yet. He hopes somebody told his mom he’s okay. 

Maybe Hotch will come. He and Hotch have grown closer while Gideon was on his mandated recovery time; Gideon spends far less time in the office, sticking to lectures, seminars and consults, while Hotch, Morgan and Spencer handle the away cases. Spencer might go as far as to say Hotch likes him. And Morgan can tolerate him now, less grudging when Spencer offers a random fact or statistic to further the case. 

A stab of pain at the back of his head makes itself known sharply.

Spencer doesn’t want to move, but he needs to assess things. He frowns at his arms, naked as they are. His silver watch is missing. A t-shirt that he doesn’t remember buying stretches over his chest. What state are they in, and who dressed him? 

He’s scowling at the window with it’s wide-open blinds and all the sun when the door opens. 

You’re looking at the bags on your arm as you come in. Spencer startles in his blankets —what are you doing here? Agent L/N, Morgan’s friend and a candidate for the open position on the BAU team. You’re from the Sex Crimes Unit, like Greenaway. 

Spencer flusters every time he sees you, not just because of how kind you’d been the first time you met, or even the easy flirtation you send his way when you cross paths. It’s because you’re the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. He’s not talking about the golden ratio or statistical beauty, you’re just stunning. You stop him in his tracks whenever you steal into the office. It’s better when you notice he’s awake and light up like he’s the winning numbers for tonight’s lottery pull. Everything about you illuminates. 

“Hey, babe!” you say, not not yelling as you drop your bags in the seat by the bed and reach for him.

He doesn’t think to move away as you take his face into your hands.

“I’m so glad you’re finally awake, you almost slept for the full twenty four hours.” Your hands are soft. They smell like neroli. When you stroke his cheek and lean down to give him a chaste peck, he almost passes out there and then. “It's a good thing, obviously,” you say, and then kiss him again distractedly. Spencer squeezes his eyes closed. “You heal more when you’re asleep. Or so I’ve heard.” 

You pull away, Spencer blinking for his life. You have such a nice mouth, but Spencer’s never thought about what it might feel like on his. He doesn’t have the audacity: in what world would you ever kiss him? That’s the joke, right, when you flirt with him in the office?

“How are you feeling?” you ask, losing some of your pep. “How’s your head, handsome? You know, there are easier ways to get a haircut.” 

“They cut my hair?” he croaks. 

“Shaved it at the back to stitch you up. Not much, don’t worry. They were pushing for a buzz cut but I put my foot down on that one,” you joke. You nudge his legs aside without worrying about sitting on him as you get comfortable. “It’s not much. You can’t tell.”

“I…” 

“You feeling okay?” you ask softly. Your nice mouth purses. Your eyebrows pinch. They’re cute eyebrows. 

“You look different than the last time I saw you.” 

He doesn’t mean to say it aloud. He’s noticing things now. You’re wearing less powder under your eyes than you used to. You seem to have gained a little weight, and you look good. You didn’t look bad before, but this is different. Your hair isn’t too different, nor your brows, but you’ve begun lining your lips in a new way. Your blush is a subtler hue. Spencer doesn’t claim to know everything about you, but he can say that you look neatly the same each time you visit. Why the sudden change?

“It’s hard to sleep when your favourite person in the world gets his head cut open,” you say, taking his hand where he’d left it loose in the blankets. 

Your fingers slip into his with ease. 

“Can I tell you something?” he asks, attempting to swallow his nerves. 

“Of course you can.” 

He licks his lips. “Uh, I think I’m confused. I don’t– I don’t remember what happened, and…” 

“Oh, right. They told me this might happen.” You draw yourself up with a breath. He’s fascinated by the movement, an air of heat around him as you begin rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. “You got hit in the back of the head with a cinder block, honey. Went down like a lead balloon.” You turn your face to show your cheek. “We’re even now on good scares, yeah?” 

You have a scar on your face he’d missed, carefully concealed but yet not invisible. Your hand in his feels so alien he holds it wrong, fingers twined but palms apart. 

“What happened to you?” he asks. 

Your brow crinkles. You go very still. “My cheek?” you ask. 

“What…” 

“Spencer, what’s the last thing you can remember, honey?” you ask, all the horror in the world to be found in your eyes. 

“Uh…” He feels sick to his stomach.

“Spencer?” 

Without having to be told, you slip off of the bed with two taps of your shoes and reach for the bedpan, thrusting it into his lap. 

His mouth fills with spit. “I’m fine,” he says. 

“No, I don’t think so. Let me get a doctor.” 

“Wait,” he says, clutching the bedpan and pushing his wave of nausea as far down as he can. “Please don’t go.” 

“My face was months ago, honey. I got hit in the face with a hammer by a UnSub, you don’t remember?” you ask incredulously. 

“Why do you keep calling me honey?” he asks. He knows the answer, but it’s not computing. 

Your face drains of any happiness. “I’m going to get a doctor,” you say, shoulders rigidly tight as you exit the room, leaving Spencer in your wake wishing he’d just pretended he knew who you were, just until you kissed him again. 

—

“And he really can’t remember you at all?” Morgan asks. 

You’re a little less startled than you had been, and you’re trying not to punish poor Spencer, but realising your boyfriend forgot years of flirting, and yearning, and friendship —years of kissing in secret and otherwise, years of holding hands, and staying at each other’s places to get that extra time together, even if it was just getting to sleep in the same bed between cases— was a slap. 

“He remembers me,” you say, leg crossed over the other, arm over the railing of Spencer’s bed to hold his hand. “He just doesn’t remember a thing after Gideon came back, after Boston.” 

“I remember when you had hair,” Spencer says to Derek. 

Derek glares at him, “This Spencer doesn’t get to sass me.” 

“But I do eventually?” 

“How come you’re holding hands if he doesn’t know who you are?” Derek asks pointedly. 

You shrug. “We talked about it, didn’t we?” you ask Spencer, who perks up every time you talk, which isn’t unlike your usual Spencer. Whenever he catches himself doing it he flusters. Every time you call him baby he loses his mind. “He doesn’t remember me, but he wants to. And I remember him.” 

“This must be pretty weird for you, kid,” Derek says. 

“Sort of,” Spencer says. 

It’s funny. Now you know Spencer thinks he’s twenty three again, you can’t not notice his shyness and his awkward tries at casualness. You’d forgotten what he was like back then. 

“Wait, does that mean you don’t remember Emily?” Derek asks. 

Spencer frowns. “Uh, no?” 

You sit up in your chair. “Emily’s one of your best friends, honey. She joined the BAU when Greenaway left.”

“Not you?” he asks. 

You dramatise your pain as Derek laughs. “Not me. I didn’t transfer for a long time, unfairly. It’s okay, though, you’ll remember Emily eventually.” 

When you realised Spencer wasn’t as okay as you’d thought, you gathered a gaggle of agitated doctors to assess him. He knew his name and birthday. He was wrong about the date, the president, and the state. You’re in Arizona where he’d thought Indiana. Your bag talks to the heat: Spencer’s fan, his sunblock, his antihistamines. He couldn’t believe it when he asked where his stuff was and you passed him your handbag. 

You’re trying to drive home to him that you’re not just dating, you're common-law partners, Spence. He adores you. You’d spend life in his lap if you could afford it. 

“How’d she get you to believe her?” Derek asks Spencer. 

“Uh.” 

“I kissed him a couple of times before he came clean about the amnesia,” you say. “So I didn’t have to explain.” 

“I didn’t mean to lie,” Spencer says. 

He’s looking less haggard now you’ve brushed his hair. It was sweet to watch his shoulders relax. He shuddered when you tucked a strand behind his ears, and didn’t flinch when you asked if you could kiss his cheek. It’s hard to have him vulnerable here and not be allowed to lick his wounds for him. You feel better the better he feels. You’ve fluffed his pillow, wrapped him tighter in blankets. When he got up to pee and you offered to help, he gave a resolute No Thank You, which in hindsight is hilarious but at the time made you wanna squeeze your eyes out. 

“It’s okay,” you say softly, “I don’t mind kissing him, even if he doesn’t remember me. Just so long as he doesn’t mind it back.”

Spencer manages to squeeze your hand. It’s a soft one, but it’s real. “I don’t mind.” 

“You dog,” Derek says. 

“Stop, stop. He’s not doing anything wrong, is he?” you ask. “I’m the evil one, forcing kisses on him when he doesn’t know me.” 

“I do know you,” Spencer says. 

“What’s it like to have a crush on your own girlfriend?” Derek asks, unwilling to quit his teasing where he’s crossing his arms in the chair opposite, his cup of coffee drained on the side table. 

Spencer swallows. “Uh, nerve-wracking.” 

“Believe it or not, that’s not so different to now,” Derek says. 

Spencer looks to you for confirmation, which you love. You slide your chair closer to him and clasp his wrist with your free hand. “Sometimes you're still a little shy, but it’s not so bad. Full of myself I may be, Spencer Reid, but you do love me. It’s easy with us.” 

“Do we really live together?” he asks. “You said common-law.” 

“Not technically. I stay at your place four nights a week. You stay with me for the weekends.” 

“Every week?” he asks.

“Yeah.” 

“We’re never apart?” he asks. 

His face is turning pink. You could kiss every bit of colour on his cheeks. 

“Derek, would you get Spencer something to eat from the cafeteria? Please?” you ask, levelling your friend with a pleading gaze. 

Derek gathers himself up. “Sure. We gotta feed the string bean something, don’t we?” he asks. 

Alone again, you draw lines up and down Spencer’s arm with your nails. You’re going to be indulgent in yourself, and ask him everything you’d ever wanted to know. And then a little extra, too. 

“You’re not as skinny anymore, have you noticed? You’re quite lean.” You stand to sit where you’d put yourself before he confessed. Your hand falls to his knee. “Solid, sometimes. You and Derek go for walks occasionally.” 

“We do?” 

“Mm-hm. And me and you do yoga in the living room when we can summon the energy. We tried couples Pilates, but Pilates is hard.” 

“We did?”

You smile warmly. “It’s nice to be in love with someone who loves in the same way.” 

“How do you love?” 

His ears are bitten-red. “Oh, you know. I’m too affectionate. It’s hard not to be with you. Everyone used to think we were… I don’t know, playing a game.” You slide your hand up his thigh, leaning on him to watch his pupils blow. “But I love you for far more than your constant propensity to blush. You get me flowers every time you see my favourites, and you never let me go to sleep without a kiss. Usually here.” You poke the skin beside your eye. “But sometimes you’ll surprise me and kiss my nose.” You're going lax with love, remembering things he’s done, and does every day.  “On a Saturday morning we make tea and I put my hands in your t-shirt. You do the crosswords for fun. Sometimes we time them.” 

“That’s not how you love, that’s what you love,” Spencer says. 

“Oh, you want a play by play of things?” He ducks his chin, but he smiles when you laugh. 

“I just can’t believe this is happening.”

You try to think of things you don’t think about anymore. “You love my sugar lip gloss, so I always wear it.” 

He reaches out tentatively. Shy as a wren in a hedgerow. You let him curl a hand over your elbow, feel the crook of it with his index finger. 

“I buy you stamps, and t-shirts for bed, and stupid stuff you wouldn’t get yourself. We’re… it’s like, it doesn’t feel like gift giving anymore because we’re always getting stuff for each other. You’re just as sweet, you know? When I first started sleeping over you bought me this huge pack of socks ‘cos yours are all odd,” you laugh. “I knew I loved you already, but…”

It’s a little sad, actually. He can’t remember all the stuff that makes you the couple you are. It’s not what you’d meant to get into. 

“Can I ask you something?” you ask. 

“Anything.” 

He’s slept-in and breathless, like he ran laps in his dreams. 

“What do you think of me now? I always wondered if you liked me back then, or if I just caught you off guard.” 

“Who wouldn’t like you?” 

“But did you?” 

He looks away hurriedly, his hand dropping from your elbow. “I guess so. But it’s not– not real. I have a crush on you.” His mumbling is sweet. “I have no idea why I’m telling you that.” 

“I had a crush on you, too, back then. It wasn’t anything serious, but it wasn’t a joke. And the more time we spent together, the more I thought we could fall in love,” —you take his hand and put it back on your arm— “and we did.” 

You toy with his fingers. Without looking, ashamed of your own self-indulgence, you ask another question. “What do you think of me now?” 

“I can’t remember,” he says sorrily. 

“What do you think?” 

“You feel like a dream.” He shakes his head. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I don’t really get how this is real.” 

You shouldn’t be surprised that he’d say it, you practically begged for it, but you can’t stop yourself from sitting up to kiss his forehead gently. “It’s real. Promise. And for the record, you’re handsome. They stopped saying ‘aged like fine wine’ a while ago. Now they just say ‘aged like Spencer Reid’.”

He gives a choky laugh. 

The door opens again. You lift your head expecting Derek and find a weather worm Hotch in the doorway. “Reid, you’re awake,” he says, not bothering with a smile. “Morgan said you have amnesia?” He directs it at both of you. 

Spencer’s looking at Hotch in clear shock. 

“He hasn’t aged that badly,” you chastise teasingly. 

“Hotch, you’re– I thought you would’ve– You’re still–?”

Hotch squints. “You didn’t think I had the stamina for it?” 

Spencer squirms under his gaze. “No, sir, it’s not that–”

“Sir,” Hotch says, and then he smiles. “I forgot when you both used to respect me.” 

“I have the utmost respect for you, sir,” you say through your own smile. 

“Has she been kind to you, Reid?” 

“Uh, yes? Is she not usually?” 

Hotch presses his lips together rather than answer. There’s a sympathy in his expression you resent.

—

It’s a thankfully quick bout of amnesia. The memories start to draw in like a dusting of powdered sugar, his head finely silted, one particle at a time. He finds that the more you talk, the quicker his memory is jogged. You tell him about your first kiss —I tried to kiss your cheek but you moved, it was the funniest thing— and your second. You spin stories of cases, the worst ones and the best, all the times you held hands without people knowing, the times you’d been caught. He can’t imagine it, goes hot with the memory, picturing kissing you as you’d described and the mortification of being walked in on. 

You tell him about your vacation to Nevada a few months ago and he thinks about how you’d fallen asleep on the plane. Your nose in his arm, your unhappy sigh at the tight leg space. 

Remembering you is more than half of remembering himself.

Your hands —his hands. Your smile —his laugh. The way you fold his hands in your lap —the urge to catch your chin for a kiss. 

He doesn’t know how to deal with it, and then suddenly he feels like Spencer. Your partner, your love, his proudest title for years. You’re standing at the end of the hospital bed in pajamas folding your clothes, allowed to stay the night while he’s so urgently confused and upset, you can’t make him stay here alone, please, I know you guys have those little cots for the kids ward, and he just knows you completely. 

Hours of diligent if embezzled storytelling gives it all back to him. 

“I like the lipgloss because you used to wear that perfume that smelled like sugar donuts,” he says, scratching a hand through limp hair. “And every time I crossed the square by the station–”

You let out a surprising squeal of joy. “Spencer!” you say, racing to take his hands, “Yes! The donut truck!” 

You go in for a kiss he gladly returns. “Oh, you remember,” you say, softening as he takes your neck into his hand. “I was getting worried.” 

“Some of it’s still hazy, but not so much you.” 

You wrap your arms around him for a hug, careful of his sore head. “I missed you, Spencer. I still loved you when you couldn’t remember me, but I missed you. Do you remember you?” 

He traces the scar on your lower cheek with his thumb. He’s genuinely relieved to be able to say he does. He’s not scared of what you think of him anymore, ‘cos he knows that everything he feels for you is mutual. “I remember you telling me my bad feeling was just a case of the heebies.” 

You bend into his touch. “Honey, I’m sorry. How was I supposed to know you’d get your skull whacked with a cinder block? It was a bakery. I thought the worst that could happen was getting a face full of red velvet or something.” You kiss his nose quickly. “I’m so glad you’re you. Now I can sleep in the bed with you, and not that collapsible camping cot.” 

He shushes you. “Don’t give us away. They’re not gonna let you stay if they think I’m fine.” 

You giggle excitedly, arms around him again for another squeeze. “I missed you so much. You’re so devious now.” 

He rubs your back. “I missed you too. And I still have a crush on you, I swear.”

“Thank you, honey, that means a lot to me.” 

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thanks for reading!

[myblogisatotalmess]

MILD MOANA 2 SPOILERS AHEAD

I saw Moana 2 as a Polynesian person. I thought it was INCREDIBLE. I know many people already don't really like it, but I think it's because THIS specific movie, they went harder on the Polynesian culture.

The music is even more Polynesian, and written pretty much solely by Polynesian people. The culture is even more included in it's narrative and in the details, they show more tattoos, the Kava ceremony, speaking more of the Pacific Islander native languages, even some the humor is very Polynesian humor.

I personally really enjoyed the storyline, and I liked that it introduced a "morally gray" character to help guide Moana into realizing that you have to just embrace what's given to you. It's a great representation of what the ocean is. It's sometimes not as reliable and friendly as Moana expects it to be, and has grown accustomed to. So when she asks for the ocean's help and receives no answer, she's better prepared to face it as it comes, and adapt, and embrace it.

Not only that, but in terms of Polynesian deities, there isn't just one "good" or "bad". There are complicated morally gray deities. Pele, for instance, is a goddess known for volcanoes and destruction, but she is also known as creation and rebirth. The Earth is scorched by the flames and lava to make way for new land and healthier vegetation.

The songs aren't as "memorable" to those who aren't fully embracing the culture. For me, I got chills hearing the music. It felt authentic and from the heart and soul of the Polynesian people who sang it. Sure, many outside of the culture can't "sing along" to it, but that doesn't make it inherently bad, just because it's not marketable TO YOU.

For someone who's waited forever to have representation, and grew up with Lilo and Stitch being the only one (which wasn't that much in terms of representation.) To then seeing Moana come out when I was 16, and cried then. For then Moana 2 to come out tonight, and I cried AGAIN at 24 years old. My inner child was so excited to hear and FEEL what that representation sounds like, looks like, and means.

The original Moana was tippy-toeing into Polynesian culture, where it could still be marketable so everyone could enjoy it. Because they didn't want it to flop. It feels the same as a Polynesian person having to cater to tourists who only see the Polynesian culture as something they can exploit and be entertained by.

That doesn't mean that it was bad, it was moving tides in that time, and I would take that representation over the crumbs we've had before.

But this movie? Moana 2? This was for US. This was for the Polynesian cultures. This felt like a love letter to us, as a culture, to unite and know that we have community, and to feel seen, in all of our glory, and not a watered-down version to be "marketable" to others outside of our culture.

So, I expect people to not like it. But I also expect it to be because it's coming from a place where they don't understand how it feels to experience, love, embrace, learn, and educate others about Polynesian culture.

I love my culture, and I love my Polynesian siblings as a Kanaka Hawaiian. I love my Maori, Samoan, Tahitian, Tongan, etc. siblings. I love seeing a mix of all of our cultures come together and be represented.

For those who aren't a part of our culture, truly listen to our history and our struggles and successes. Educate yourself on how to be a better ally and find cultural appreciation (not appropriation) for our culture. We are real people with real stories. Not some fictional character (or Halloween costume/party favor/etc.) you can write off and only look at as "entertainment" and can only hold value when we're catering to you. That includes our music, our language, our dances, and our stories.

That's all for now. ❤️ I'll be willing to have adult, civil, conversations with others about differences in why you didn't enjoy it as much, but hate will be deleted and blocked. ❤️

[mggslover]

Angel

In which Spencer sees his girlfriend fresh out of the shower for the first time, you looked angelic, and he was about to ruin you.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Girlfriend!reader Genre: smut (18+) Content warnings: spencer being horny, reader wears glasses, teasing, fingering, some spanking, p in v sex, facial, soft!dom spencer Word count: 3,8k A/n: this was supposed to be a short, smut no plot fic, but I got a little carried away...

The familiar goodbyes and sorrys were exchanged as you hung up the phone.

What was meant to be a romantic date out of town with your boyfriend had quickly turned into another one of those last-minute cancellations. It wasn’t surprising—Spencer’s work as a profiler came with its own set of unpredictable demands, and you were used to him being pulled away at a moment’s notice. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. You’d been looking forward to spending some time together.

You’d been dating Spencer for about three months, and things had progressed naturally from casual coffee dates to longer dinners and, eventually, a few trips to his place afterwards. As much as you enjoyed those nights, you wished they would last longer. You and Spencer made a habit out of quickies, knowing that at any moment his phone would inevitably buzz with a message or call from his colleague, Garcia. You couldn’t blame him for leaving, serial killers unfortunately didn’t work a nine to five. Spencer hated leaving you as well, making sure he offered you enough apologetic kisses and promises that he’d be back as soon as he could.

He always insisted that you could stay over at his place until he’d be back, but you never felt comfortable enough to do so. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy being at his place—you could already picture yourself curled up on the couch with one of his books, or take advantage of his bed, which was a lot bigger and more comfortable than yours. But it wasn’t quite home yet, at least not without him there.

With a resigned sigh, you decided to make the best out of the situation. It had been a long week, and you could use a night of self-care. As you set your phone down on the bathroom counter, you hit play on a playlist you’d made for such occasions—soft, calming melodies that would help you unwind. You pulled your hair back with a headband, took out your contacts, and started removing the makeup that took you half an hour to do earlier.

The bathroom mirror fogged slightly as the warmth of the shower filled the room. You hummed along with the song in the background, while you moved the cotton pads over your skin in a familiar motion.

As you finished, you carefully stepped out of your dress and turned toward the shower. The steam hit your skin as you slid into the stall, closing your eyes for a moment as the water hit your shoulders.

Without realizing, you spent a good hour in the shower. Once comfortably dressed, you let yourself sink into the plush cushions of your couch. A fuzzy blanket was draped across your just shaved legs, and the TV remote was within arm’s reach. You let out a content sigh, almost feeling as satisfied as you would be when being with Spencer.

—

Spencer’s signature melody of knocks broke your focus on the documentary you were watching. You swiftly moved up from the couch and checked the peephole on your door, just to be sure. A smile spread across your face as you saw Spencer rocking back and forth on his feet, plucking at the bouquet in his hands, straightening out each flower to perfection.

You opened the door with a big smile. “Hi, I wasn’t expecting you. I thought we cancelled tonight.”

He hesitates, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. “You’re right. I finished the case early, and I’ve been thinking about you all day. I just… wanted to see you.” His words came out more nervously than he intended. “I saw the lights were on, so I assumed you were awake.”

“I wasn’t asleep. Don’t worry,” you answered warmly. You glanced down at the bouquet in his hands. “Are these for me?”

“They are,” he replies, his voice softened as he handed them to you. “You said you liked lilies.”

“I do, thank you. They’re beautiful.” You accept the bouquet, moving to your tiptoes to give him a kiss. Having a boyfriend with an eidetic memory really is perfect.

“I’ll put them in water, come in.”

You moved to the open kitchen, so in awe of his sweet gesture that you were completely unaware of the way Spencer’s breath caught the moment you opened the door, how his pupils darkened when he inhaled your sweet scent and noticed the state you were in. Hair still damp from the shower you must’ve taken, wearing only a shirt, and your face bare besides the glasses you were wearing. Fuck… he didn’t even know you wore glasses.

He couldn’t deny how incredibly cute you looked. Spencer has only seen you during or after dates, and he loved how he could tell that you took the time to get yourself ready. Always wearing an outfit that fits you perfectly and having your makeup done in a way that enhances the features of your face. But it felt so intimate seeing how effortlessly beautiful you looked moving around in the comfort of your own home. You were beautiful in a way that seemed almost unfair, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the most captivating version of you he'd ever seen.

Spencer wasn’t able to take his eyes off of you as you walked to the kitchen, your breasts swaying with every step you took. The outline of your nipples were visible, because of the cold that escaped when you opened the door for him. Your bare legs reflected the warm kitchen light. He felt like he was about to lose his mind as you reached up to grab a vase from the top cabinet, the curve of your ass peeking out from underneath the shirt that you're wearing.

He felt guilty for the warmth that was spreading through him. He shook his head slightly, trying to reset his thoughts, but the temptation was there. Your easy grace, the way your bare feet padded across the floor, the gentle hum of the air between you—it all combined into something too alluring for him to ignore.

You could feel the heat radiating off of him as he moved behind you, placing a careful hand on your hip as he reached out to grab the vase. You turned around with a smile as he placed the vase on the kitchen counter.

“Thanks,” you beamed, and he mumbled a ‘You’re welcome’, though his response came out as more of a soft hum.

Before he could think better of it, he leaned down and kissed you. The kiss was slow, deliberate—his lips meeting yours with a tenderness that made his pulse race. His fingers tingle with the desire to pull you closer, but just before his hands slid around you, you pulled away, making him swallow back a groan.

“Ooh! I was watching this documentary that I think you’ll be really into,” you said, quickly putting the flowers in the vase and tugging him by the hand toward the couch. He followed like a stray pup, too caught up in the way you moved to protest.

“Oh, yeah? What’s it about?” He asked, hoping the conversation would steer him away from the other thoughts tugging at him. You settled on the couch beside him, and he instinctively pulled your legs onto his lap, cupping your feet in his hands to warm them.

“It’s about space. The universe, really. It’s fascinating, but honestly terrifying if you think about it for too long.”

Spencer nodded, though his mind was far away. He was more focused on the way that his fingers traced the soft lines of your calves. He gently started kneading the muscles, placing just the right amount of pressure.

“Would you go to space, if NASA invited you?” You asked, eyes still glued to the TV.

“Only if you’d come with me.”

His response made you turn around to look at him. The sincere and loving expression he gave you warmed your face. He squeezed your legs gently, and, just like that, you noticed the hint of desire hidden in his eyes.

“Come here,” he said in a whisper, patting his thigh. In a second you managed to crawl yourself onto his lap, and he held you steady by your hips.

You reached up to remove your glasses, but before your fingers could touch the frames, his hand found yours, halting the movement.

You noticed the slight squint in his eyes. “I can’t properly kiss you with my glasses on,” you explain.

"Then let me handle the kissing," he murmured, voice dropped low.

Before you could register his words, his lips had found your neck. His hands moved to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing along the line of your jaw, holding you close as his tongue licked a firm stripe up your sensitive skin.

“Oh, god,” you shuddered in a breath.

“Shaking already?” he teased, voice laced with amusement as he grinned against your skin.

“No,” you lied.

“Are you sure about that? Then why are you doing it again?” He comments before squeezing your breast, your nipple caught in between his long fingers.

You jumped at his touch, a moan escaping your lips. You shook your head as you saw his satisfied expression. “You’re such a dirty tease.”

“I haven’t heard any complaints so far,” he smirks, making you roll your eyes.

His breath was warm against your skin as his lips found their way back to the soft curve of your neck. Slowly, with a tenderness that sent a shiver through your body, he placed several more kisses to your skin. Once pleased, he bends his head down to capture your clothed nipple in his mouth, his hand still kneading your other breast.

“Fuck, Spence,” you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders to steady yourself. He took his time, his mouth sucking slowly on your nub, savoring the feel of you beneath him. Tonight, he was in no rush—he wanted to taste every inch of you, show you just how much he loves every detail of your body.

You were writhing in his lap as he flicked his tongue against your nipple. Heat forming between your thighs with every stroke of his tongue. He removed his lips from your breast with a pop, and sat back against the couch. His gaze was locked on the now wet, see-through patch on your shirt. He licked his lips, watching you like you were a piece of art he just created himself.

“Beautiful,” he stated.

The compliment sent a rush of warmth straight to your core, your body responding with a soft shiver. Without thinking, you began to grind yourself against his lap, a surge of excitement rushing through you as you felt the firm bulge beneath his pants. Spencer exhaled a deep, satisfied sigh, his warm hands slipping beneath your shirt as he cupped your breasts, squeezing them gently.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said, his gaze lingering on you.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Oh, so that’s what this is all about, huh?”

His expression softened, “Actually, it’s about all of you.” The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, turning you almost shy.

“Can I take this off?” he murmured, his fingers teasing the hem of your shirt. You nodded wordlessly and raised your arms. Spencer pulled the fabric over your head, his eyes tracing the curve of your bare chest. He cursed under his breath, his hands immediately finding you—fingers digging into your skin as he leaned in, nuzzling his face between your tits with a satisfied moan.

A string of giggles and moans spilled from your lips as his curls tickled your skin. His pink lips grazed you gently, pausing to leave sloppy, lingering marks—each one a reminder that you’d carry with you for the following days.

You moved against him, rolling your hips, finding release in the way that your barely covered heat rubbed against the rough material of his pants. Spencer noticed the change in your rhythm, the need in your movements. He guided you with steady hands, his fingers moving to your hips and then sliding lower, finding the curve of your ass, tightening his grip to help you find the pace you craved.

“Can you handle more?” His voice was laced with desire. Without hesitation, you nodded, your body already screaming for more. His long fingers traced your inner thighs, goosebumps forming on your skin, his touch light but electrifying. When his thumb pressed against your covered clit, a jolt of heat shot through you, making you squirm helplessly. You moaned, your body arching toward him.

“You’re always so wet for me, angel.” The word slipped from Spencer's lips. It was the first time he’d called you anything other than your name or a shortened version of it, and somehow, angel felt more fitting than any word he'd ever used. You looked like heaven to him—your soft skin glowing in the light, your eyes sparkling behind the frames of your glasses, and the way you responded to his touch, every small brush of his fingers making your expressions change so delicately.

He slowly tugged the damp fabric of your underwear to the side, savoring the reveal of your glistening pussy. You lifted your hips, giving Spencer the access to slide a finger through your folds, spreading your wetness.

“Feels good,” you breathed out, your voice shaky as his fingers ran back and forth between your lips, each pass teasingly close to your entrance, but never quite slipping inside. The sensation made your hips buck against him. You weren’t used to being teased for this long—Spencer had a way of getting you dripping without even fully touching you. Usually that led straight to sex, which makes his slow touches feel almost torturous.

“Please, Spence,” you moaned.

“Please, what?” he mused, his eyes dark with desire as he watched how your arousal coated his fingers, his gaze never leaving your glistenings folds.

“I need more,” you begged, your voice a whimper.

“You can have more, angel. My fingers are right here,” he hummed.

A soft moan escaped your lips as you shifted, positioning yourself so his fingers were just below your entrance. Spencer’s breath hitched, and his mouth fell open as you sank down onto his fingers, inch by inch, taking him in. Your hand gripped his shoulder tightly for support as you moved, the sensation of fullness making your body tremble.

Spencer was the first to make a sound, his head falling back slightly as you adjusted to him. His moans only spurred you on. You pressed your forehead against his, your breaths shaky as he pumped his fingers in a steady, insistent rhythm.

His other hand moved to your ass, fingers spreading across your cheek as he squeezed, pulling you closer to him. You were grateful he was doing most of the work—your legs were already shaking, straining to keep up with the building pleasure.

Spencer’s fingers curled inside you, pressing deeper, and the angle was perfect—hitting spots you never managed to reach on your own. Spencer groaned at the sight. Your body was tightening around him, your slickness coating his fingers, and he couldn’t help but imagine it being his cock filling you up.

The sounds he made drove you crazy. Each deep groan, every stuttered breath, showed you how much he enjoyed making you feel good. His enjoyment only intensified your own pleasure.

You were so close, your nipples hard against his chest, your breath mixing with his as your hair tumbled over his face, the scent of it intoxicating to him.

Your breathing quickened, sharp and shallow, as the pressure built within you, pooling low in your belly. Your vision blurred, the edges of reality dissolving as you neared the brink of your climax.

“Baby…” you breathed, your voice a desperate whisper, barely more than a plea. You locked your eyes with Spencer, hoping—praying—he could see the need in yours, feel the frantic urgency building inside you.

And then, with a nod and a final twist of his fingers, you broke.

A flood of pleasure crashed through you. You gasped, your whole body seizing as your orgasm hit, sending shockwaves of heat through every inch of you. You cried out, unable to hold back the sounds of your release, your hips bucking against his touch, your hands gripping his wrist to anchor you to the world as it spun in a blur.

He withdrew his fingers from your heat, and the sudden absence left you breathless, a soft sound escaping your lips at the loss. When you blinked your eyes open, Spencer’s warm gaze met yours, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You smiled back at him, a little dazed, as he brushed your cheek with his untouched hand.

He carefully took your glasses off, placing them on the armrest of the couch. His thumb tenderly wiped away the tears that had escaped your eyes. He then cupped your chin, pulling you toward him, and kissed you deeply, his lips soft and lingering.

“Thank you,” he murmured, as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

“I should be the one thanking you,” you softly laughed.

He shook his head, smiling. “No need for that,” he replied, his voice reassuring.

“But I want to,” you insisted. “Though… I think you’ll find I’m better at showing than telling.” You playfully whispered, as your nails grazed the outline of his dick.

You turned yourself around on his lap, your knees still planted on either side of him, but now with your back facing him. Leaning forward, you braced yourself on the coffee table, your elbows digging into the surface. You arched your back, making Spencer hiss sharply at the sight of your ass displayed before him, your arousal trickling down your thighs. The inviting shake of your hips made him lose his patience, and his fingers fumbled hastily with his belt.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hurriedly pushing his pants and boxers down his thighs. His cock sprang free, hard and eager, the flushed head brushing against the faint line of hair trailing up his abdomen.

He gripped himself firmly, pumping his length a few times before lining himself up with your slick entrance. The weight of his hand settled on your hip as he pressed the tip of his cock against your warmth, teasing you for the briefest moment before you sank down on him.

A sharp cry escaped your lips as he filled you, the new angle making him hit depths you’d never felt before. The stretch was deliciously overwhelming, stealing your breath as your fingers clawed at the table. You shakily tried to lift your hips, but your legs quivered under the strain.

Spencer noticed immediately, his hands finding their place—one on your waist, steadying you, and the other trailing down to your calf. He began guiding you, his strength effortlessly lifting and lowering you along his cock. The room filled with the symphony of your combined moans and the rhythmic slap of meeting skin.

“God, look at you,” he rasped, mesmerized by the way your body took him in. His gaze focused on the bounce of your ass, hypnotized by the way it moved with each thrust. On instinct, he brought his hand down in a firm smack against your cheek.

The sudden impact made you jolt, as you let out a sweet, startled cry. The sound sent a surge of need through him, and he swore he felt himself harden further.

“You liked that, huh?” he mused in curiosity. Without waiting for an answer, he did it again, revelling in your shivering response.

Pulling you against him, Spencer adjusted your position until you were seated in his lap, your back pressed flush to his chest. One arm wrapped around your waist to hold you close, while his other hand rose to cup your breast. His hips snapped into you roughly, each thrust pulling an uncontrollable whimper from your throat.

“You’re doing so good for me, angel,” he praised, his voice hoarse as his fingers pinched and rolled your nipple. The combination made your head loll back against his shoulder, surrendering to his touch. He seized the opportunity to claim your lips in a needy, devouring kiss. Tongues tangled messily, swallowing your shared moans.

As your pleasure mounted, your walls began to flutter around him, drawing a strained groan from his throat.

“Are you close again, pretty girl?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper against your lips.

“Yes,” you gasped, barely able to form the word. “Spencer… fuck, I’m so close.”

“Then cum around me,” he encouraged. “I know you want it.”

Your breath hitched. “Will you cum inside of me?”

For a heartbeat, he stilled. “I…” His gaze flickered with hesitation, cheeks flushed. “I want to cum on your face.”

Your pupils blew wide, desire sparking anew at his confession. A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

That was all the encouragement he needed. His fingers dipped between your thighs, circling your clit in rapid, precise motions. The pressure tipped you over the edge, and with a cry of his name, you let go.

Barely able to recover, you slid from his lap onto your knees, settling in front of him. Spencer’s breath hitched at the sight of you—flushed and disheveled, your sweat-slick skin glowing in the low light. Your lips, swollen from his kisses, parted expectantly.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he breathed, unable to tear his eyes away. You looked angelic… and he was about to ruin you.

It didn’t take long. His cock twitched, thick ropes of cum spilling over your face and dripping down to your chest. His jaw went slack, his chest heaving as he watched you collect some of his release with your thumb and slip it into your mouth. The sight of you sucking on your finger almost unraveled him all over again.

Unable to bring himself to leave your side, he grabbed his sleeve, using it to gently clean you up. Once satisfied, you leaned forward, resting your head on his thigh, basking in the comfortable silence that followed.

His phone buzzed suddenly on the couch, shattering the moment. Spencer groaned, grabbing the device and quickly silencing it with a flick of his finger.

You laughed softly, your voice tinged with amazement. “What was that about?”

Spencer shrugged, tossing the phone aside without a second glance. “I can be late for one day.”

[mrsfancyferrari]

Want You

Summary: LN4 + "But I don't want them, I want you." 🥧🏈

Song: Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 10.8k

You stand in the mirror, pacing back and forth as you fix your hair for the third time. Tonight is one of those nights where the universe feels electrically charged, a perfect blend of thrill and anxiety swirling in your gut.

Layla, your best friend, has just finished getting ready and is practically beaming with excitement beside you.

Her skin glows under the soft lights of your apartment, and her dress hugs her figure perfectly. You can’t help but feel slightly overshadowed by her beauty.

"Do I look okay?" you ask, biting your lip, your eyes darting from her to your reflection.

"Are you kidding? You look amazing!" Layla exclaims, twisting a lock of her hair, her eyes sparkling. "But you really need to get out there more. You’re gorgeous in your own right!”

You chuckle, brushing off her compliment with a wave of your hand. "Yeah, well, even if I am, who's going to notice when you're around? You’re the one who gets all the attention. "

"That's not true! But anyway, tonight we’re supposed to have fun, not talk about that,” she says, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “Now, remember the plan?”

You nod, though your heart feels heavier with those words. “Right. We’re meeting Lando and the guys at the club. I just hope he doesn’t think I’m some awkward third wheel. He’s popular.”

Layla rolls her eyes playfully. “You say that every time. You two are friends. Besides, I think he likes you more than you think.”

“Whatever you say,” you respond, your mind racing back to the day Lando had randomly entered your life during a charity event you were volunteering for.

He was charming, funny, and incredibly humble for someone so famous. But the thought of anything romantic blossoming between you seemed absurd, especially when Layla was practically the embodiment of what everyone desired.

At the club, the bass vibrates through the floor, and colorful lights dance around the crowd like fireflies in the night. It’s an atmosphere alive with energy, but you feel your heartbeat quicken at the thought of seeing Lando.

You spot him near the bar, a bright smile on his face as he talks to some friends. Dressed casually, Lando is effortlessly cool, like a magnetic pull that draws everyone’s attention.

“There he is!” Layla exclaims, her excitement infectious. You watch her eyes grow wide like a child spotting a shooting star.

“Go! Go talk to him!” you nudge her, unable to keep the urge to play matchmaker at bay.

“No way! I’m not going without my wingwoman,” she whispers urgently, grabbing your wrist.

With a resigned sigh, you stride forward, Layla trailing closely behind. The moment Lando sees you, his face lights up, and he waves enthusiastically.

The way his presence commands attention is almost intoxicating.

“Hey! You made it!” he greets, pulling you in for a quick hug. You can smell his cologne, fresh and invigorating. Suddenly, your shyness mellows into warmth, though a tiny inner voice reminds you that you’re about to play cupid.

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you reply, your demeanor suddenly a mix of confidence and nervous fluttering. “Lando, this is my best friend Layla. You should hang out with her more—she’s awesome!”

Layla’s cheeks flush, and a playful smirk spreads across her face, but you can’t help but feel anxiety gnawing at you.

“Nice to meet you, Layla,” Lando says, his bright green eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Only good things, I hope!” Layla giggles, twirling a strand of hair around her fingers as if she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands.

“Yes, definitely,” he chuckles lightly, shooting you a glance that feels a bit mischievous. “I always wanted to meet the friend who keeps you so grounded.”

You fight to keep your composure, trying to bury the layer of jealousy creeping in. “Well, tonight’s all about celebrating. We should hit the dance floor!”

Hours pass with drinks flowing and laughter echoing. You dance, reveling in the rhythm while keeping a watchful, almost possessive gaze on Layla and Lando. They banter, and you notice how easily they connect, the chemistry undeniable.

A part of you feels satisfied, hoping for the sparks to ignite. Yet, another part steals glances at the way Lando laughs—could he truly like her?

“Hey,” you hear a familiar voice call, pulling you from your thoughts. Lando approaches, his brow slightly furrowed. “I was looking for you. Want to join us?”

You swallow, glancing at Layla, who is leaning against her car, her smile bright. “Um, sure. Just one moment.”

He watches you, a look of concern crossing his face. “Everything alright?”

You smiled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Yeah but you know, Layla really lights up the floor.”

“She does,” he nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “But I think you’re just as fun. It’s nice having both of you here.”

“Nice being here with you.” The words spilled from your mouth before you could bite them back.

Before you nerves could take over, you added, “You know, if you’re interested, Layla would love to get coffee or something. She’s crushing on you.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Lando’s face, followed by an understanding nod. “Yeah, I picked up on that. But honestly?” He paused, searching for your eyes. “I think I’d prefer hanging out with you instead."

Your breath hitched, and you felt a giddy thrill dance in your chest. “Really? You mean that?”

“Definitely,” he said, leaning forward with a grin. “You’re fun to talk to, and we have a great vibe. I really like spending time with you.”

“Wow, I… I wasn’t expecting that,” you stammered, a mixture of confusion and excitement swirling inside you. “I mean, Layla is great and all, but—”

“Look,” he interrupted gently, his eyes softening. “I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but I’d love to get to know you better. Just you. No Layla.”

The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting soft golden rays across the small living room where Lando and you sat. Your head ached, pounding in rhythm with your heartbeat, and the remnants of last night's festivities loomed over you like a heavy cloud.

Lando chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It wasn’t anything too wild, don’t worry. Just that you really like spending time with me… and that you might like me in a different way.”

Your face burned even hotter, a mix of embarrassment and panic flooding your senses. “Oh my god! Lando, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to… I don’t remember any of that! It’s embarrassing.”

“Hey, don’t stress,” he said, a warm smile crossing his lips. “It’s not like you announced it to the whole party or anything. Just me, your trusted partner in crime. Besides, it's actually kind of sweet.”

His words were laced with a sincerity that calmed the storm brewing inside you, just a little. “You really think so?”

“Definitely,” Lando nodded, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I mean, how often do you get to hear someone’s true thoughts when they’re tipsy? It made my night a lot better.”

“Are you serious? I was a mess!” You tossed a pillow at him, your heart still racing from the earlier confession. “I can't believe I let that slip.”

“You were not a mess, you were just… liberated,” Lando smirked, leaning back on the couch and folding his arms behind his head. “And honestly, I don’t think it’s a bad thing. In fact, it kind of makes me happy.”

“Ugh, Lando, you’re just saying that to make me feel better,” you replied, your voice wavering as you tried to muster a hint of displeasure.

“No, I’m not.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I mean, how often do you get to hear someone’s true thoughts when they’re tipsy?”

“Are you serious? I was a mess!” You tossed a pillow at him, your heart still racing from the earlier confession. “I can't believe I let that slip.”

“No you weren't.” His face lit up with a smile that was infectious. “First things first, though—let’s get you over that hangover.”

You chuckled softly, grateful for the shift in energy. “Right.”

“Exactly,” Lando said, standing up and moving to the kitchen. “How do you feel about greasy food? Because I believe that’s the primary cure for hangovers.”

Your lips curved into a smile. “Always a solid choice. I could go for some toast or maybe even pancakes.”

“I can whip up something interesting,” he called back, a hint of mischief creeping into his voice. “But it might not be traditional breakfast food. I’ve been experimenting a little.”

“Oh boy, this should be good,” you said, following him into the kitchen, the earlier tension still lingering, but now more like a hopeful promise than a cloud of uncertainty.

Lando looked back over his shoulder with that charming grin that made your heart race. “Just trust me. You’ll love it.”

As he rummaged through the cabinets, you felt a flutter of excitement amid the remnants of your embarrassment. Maybe today wasn’t just about curing a hangover. Maybe it was the start of something new—something sweet and just a little bit wild.

The kitchen filled with the aroma of sizzling ingredients, laughter, and casual banter, the gravitational pull of your connection drawing you closer.

And for the first time that morning, as the sunlight spilled in and the soft music played, you felt truly, undeniably alive. . . .

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden hue over the McLaren paddock as the roar of engines filled the air. You had arrived earlier than expected, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Lando had invited you specifically to watch him race, and you had decided to bring Layla with you, thinking it might make the day more enjoyable.

But now, as you watched the interactions unfold around you, you began to regret that decision.

“Look at them,” Layla said, nudging your arm and pointing toward the racing cars as they zipped around the track. “Isn’t it incredible? I still can’t believe we’re here!”

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to suppress the tension knotting up your stomach.

Lando was on the other side of the paddock, surrounded by his team, engrossed in the pre-race hustle. He looked effortlessly cool in his race suit, flashing that signature smile that made your heart skip, and exchanging laughter with his crew.

You could see the admiration in Layla’s eyes, the way her gaze followed him, almost too fondly.

“Do you think he’ll win today?” Layla asked, her voice bright with enthusiasm. “I mean, he’s been so on form lately. This might be his season!”

“Yeah, I hope so,” you managed, but your heart sank a little at the way she spoke about him, as if Lando was already hers, as if you didn’t even exist in the context of their perfect relationship.

As the anticipation built, Lando finished up with his team and made his way over to you both. With a warm grin, he wrapped you in a tight hug, his comforting scent of fresh cedar and sunlight enveloping you.

“Hey, you made it!” he exclaimed, pulling back to look into your eyes. He waved cheerfully at Layla, who returned the gesture with a beaming smile.

With a playful tap on my shoulder, he kept his attention locked on you. “I bought your favorite snacks in case you get hungry. Just ask anyone in hospitality and they'll give them to you.”

“Oh, Lando, you didn’t have to,” you said, touched by his thoughtfulness.

“I knew you didn’t eat much,” he replied, with a hint of teasing in his tone. “Gotta keep you energized, right? What would the fans say if they saw you fainting in the stands?”

You chuckled, the lightheartedness of his comment managing to ease some of the tension in your chest. “I appreciate it, really. Thanks, Lando.”

“Of course!” He flashed that dazzling smile again, and your heart skipped yet again, wishing it wouldn’t betray you so. “Are you excited for the race?”

“Absolutely,” You said with a grin. “I can’t wait to see you speed past everyone. You’re going to crush it!”

Lando’s cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. “I’ll do my best. And if all goes to plan, maybe we can celebrate afterward?”

“Definitely!” you replied a little too quickly. “That would be amazing!”

As Lando left to get ready for the race and you walked to the garage, Layla nudged you playfully. “Haven't you seen the way he looks at you?” she said, a teasing smirk on her face.

“How do he… look at me?” you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.

“Like he's helplessly falling in love,” Layla teased, her tone light but with a touch of sincerity.

Your cheeks heated. “Oh, come on. He’s just friendly. You know how he is.”

“Friendly? Girl, he’s practically glowing when he sees you! It’s more than friendly.”

You didn't reply but her words were replayed in your head for most of the day. . . .

The roar of the engines and the excitement of the crowd filled the air as you settled into your seat, your heart racing along with the cars on the track.

You had been eagerly watching Lando drive with impressive precision, your admiration mixed with nerves as he expertly navigated the twists and turns of the circuit.

But as the laps dwindled down, your stomach began to rumble louder than the cars. You leaned over to Layla, who was just as engrossed in the race aside from the occasional glance in your direction.

“I'm going to grab some snacks Lando got for me. Want anything?” you asked, trying to mask your growing hunger with a light-hearted tone.

“No, I’m good! Can’t believe you have personal snacks from the Lando,” Layla teased, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you made your way to the hospitality room, the bright lights and lavish decor a stark contrast to the rawness of the track.

You felt a rush of nostalgia thinking about all the times Lando had surprised you with silly little gestures, like snacking during breaks or rescuing you from long queues at events.

As you entered, the atmosphere abruptly shifted. A tall, undeniably handsome man leaned casually against the bar, a cocky smile on his face that could light up the room.

He had perfectly styled hair and a confidence that was palpable. You instinctively felt your pulse quicken, but not in the way you were used to with Lando.

“Hey there,” he drawled, his voice smooth like velvet as he turned to face you. “What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing all alone?”

You blinked, taken aback. It was the first time someone had openly flirted with you in public, and the realization made your cheeks flush.

“Um, just grabbing some snacks,” you stammered, glancing back toward the snack table. “Not much to see here.”

He moved closer, leaning forward on the bar, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, I’d hardly call you ��not much to see.’ You definitely stand out from the crowd. What’s your name?”

“Uh, it’s…” you hesitated, almost forgetting your own name for a moment. “It’s Y/N. And you are…?”

“Ethan,” he replied, extending a hand with an air of confidence. You hesitated but eventually shook his hand. “So Y/N, do you come to the races often?”

“More often than you’d think,” you answered, forcing a smile.

Your mind kept drifting back to Lando, his curly hair bouncing with every turn, his infectious laugh, his enthusiastic spirit. You couldn't help but mentally compare every detail of Ethan to Lando, a habit you couldn’t shake off.

“What do you think of the race so far?” Ethan asked, diverting your thoughts back to the present.

“Oh, it’s exhilarating! Lando’s doing really well,” you replied, your voice faltering slightly as you mentioned his name. “He’s a great driver.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Lando? The Lando?”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other for a bit. He’s… well, great,” you added sheepishly, not wanting to divulge too much about your friendship.

“Sounds like you’re a bit smitten,” Ethan teased, his eyes sparkling with playful banter.

You cut him a look, a blush creeping up your neck. “No! It’s not like that. We’re just friends!” The resolve in your voice felt weak against the wistfulness laced in your words.

Would Ethan ever understand the depth of what Lando meant to you?

The race continued, and Ethan shifted his attention from the track to you. “While I might not have curly hair or that… infectious laugh, I can still try to impress you,” he said with a smirk.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “I can’t deny you’re charming, Ethan. But the thing about Lando—”

“Is that he’s Lando,” Ethan interrupted, his voice low as though the name itself held some power. “I get it. You’ve got this history that I can’t compete with.”

He looked down, running a hand through his hair. The gesture seemed so reminiscent of Lando, yet distinctly different.

You couldn’t shake off how much every flick of Ethan’s hair and every smile he flashed felt in stark contrast to Lando’s bouncy curls and radiant grin. He smiled, sure, but it felt like a shadow of something brighter.

Just then, a staff member waved at Ethan from the other side of the grandstand, beckoning him over for photographs. “I’ll be right back!” he said, throwing you one last flirtatious grin before he slipped away.

You decided to take the chance to get back to your seat, curious as to why the cheers around the paddock were getting louder.

“Did you get your snacks?” Layla asked, her eyes still glued to the screen where the race was unfolding.

“Yeah,” you replied absentmindedly, still feeling the flutter of excitement from Ethan's attention. As you focused on the race, your thoughts danced back to him intermittently.

The atmosphere was electric; Lando was still in the lead for qualifying, much to the delight of the crowd, and your heart raced not just from the race—but from the momentary thrill of flirtation.

“Come on, come on, Lando!” Layla shouted, her enthusiasm infectious. You mirrored her excitement, your eyes following the sleek McLaren as it whizzed around the track.

When Lando crossed the finish line, securing pole position, the roar from the team was deafening. Everyone in McLaren was ecstatic, their cheers echoing the adrenaline that surged through the air.

"Yes, Lando," you said, smiling as the cameras captured the jubilant scene.

With Lando’s triumph, you watched as the team swarmed to congratulate him. You couldn't help but chuckle at his signature grin, the way he seemed to glow with the thrill of victory.

But as you looked closer, you realized that despite the chaos around him, Lando’s gaze was searching the crowd.

“Do you think he’ll spot us?” Layla asked, her eyes narrowing, trying to catch a glimpse through the throng of people.

“I doubt it. I mean, look at him! He’s the star of the show right now,” you replied, attempting to downplay the hope that fluttered in your stomach.

Still, your thoughts were interrupted as Layla suddenly grabbed your hand, pulling you through the crowd.

“C'mon! We need to get a closer look!” she shouted over the noise. Your heart raced for a different reason now, excitement growing as you maneuvered through the ocean of fans, team members, and media.

You just managed to catch a glimpse of Lando standing on his car, fist raised triumphantly in the air. “Look at him! He’s on top of the world!” you exclaimed, your voice barely audible over the cheers.

“I know! He’s incredible!” Layla responded, beaming at Lando’s joyous display.

Amidst the clamor and celebrations, you decided to yell out, “Lando, over here!” hoping he might hear you.

To your surprise, he turned in your direction, a radiant smile breaking across his face. He scanned the crowd, and for a heartbeat, your eyes locked. His smile grew broader, and you felt warmth flood your cheeks.

Then, without a thought for the crowd around you, you made your way over to him. You squeezed through a chaotic throng of jubilant fans, the buzz of celebration swirling around you, until you reached the area near the barriers.

There he was, laughing and exchanging high-fives with the team. You couldn't help but grin as you approached.

“Lando!” you shouted over the noise, arms open wide.

He spotted you immediately, and a look of pure joy washed over his face. With almost immediate instinct, he lunged toward you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace.

The strength of his excitement was palpable, and you squeezed him back, your heart racing.

He chuckled as he lifted you slightly off the ground. “I did it! I can't believe it!” he cried, setting you back down gently. “Did you see that last lap?”

“Are you kidding? It was amazing! You were so fast!” you exclaimed, your voice rising above the cacophony.

As he pulled back, he looked down at you with his bright eyes sparkling in the fading light. “I couldn’t have done it without all your support. You were here every step of the way.”

“You’ve worked so hard, Lando. You deserve this,” you said, your gaze drifting for a moment as you felt the warmth of his presence envelop you.

But then, staring at him with the backdrop of the ecstatic crowd, your heart felt odd. Being so close to him, you suddenly found yourself stammering. “I—uh, I mean… you really did great.”

Lando tilted his head slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You alright?” He took a small step closer, his arm still around your waist, making you acutely aware of the physical closeness between you, which felt both comfortable and electric.

“Uh, yeah, totally fine,” you replied quickly, but your voice was barely above a whisper. You caught a brief glimpse of Lando's gaze flitting to your lips, and it sent a jolt of connection rushing through you.

“I just… I mean…” You struggled to finish your thought, the reality of your best friend stepping into the limelight making you feel both thrilled and ridiculously nervous.

“Just what?” he teased gently, his smile unwavering but those eyes—oh, those eyes were searching, digging deeper.

“Just… I didn’t think you’d get pole position! I mean, I thought maybe, like, third or fourth?” You laughed nervously, but his gaze didn’t waver.

“Hey, you should always believe in me!” Lando said, but there was a soft intensity behind his words that made your heart race all the more. “If I can get here today, then you have to promise you’ll always believe in me, no matter what.”

You paused, looking earnestly into his bright eyes, biting your lip. “I promise. But you’ve gotta promise me too; no matter how famous you get or how many trophies you win, you won’t forget about me, okay?”

“Never,” he said softly, but the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine. He lowered his voice, his teasing demeanor fading slightly.

“You’ve been my constant through all of this, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Lando’s words lingered palpably in the air between you. You felt like the entire world had faded away, the crowd’s roars dimming into background noise. “I just… I could never replace what we have.”

“Exactly,” he said, moving a fraction closer, eliciting butterflies to flutter chaotic within your stomach. “Remember that time you thought I’d mess up in Monaco, and then I didn’t? I was convinced I could do it because you believed in me.”

You laughed, flushing at the memory. “Yeah, and you laughed at me for just being realistic.”

“Realistic is boring! You should know that by now. In racing, and in life, you gotta dream big,” he said, voice lightening as humor returned to the moment.

Just as you were about to respond, Zac approached. “Hey! Lando! Congrats, mate!”

He clapped Lando on the back, breaking the synergy you had created. “That was an incredible race! You crushed it!”

Lando’s hand left your waist as he turned to engage with Zac, his infectious excitement pulling him into the conversation. “Thanks, man! I can’t believe it! I was so nervous the entire time!”

You stepped back slightly, allowing the two of them to revel in the adrenaline of the moment. Lando beamed, his eyes sparkling as he spoke animatedly with Zac about the race strategy.

You watched as he made his way to get weighed and interviewed, your heart fluttering with a mix of pride and something else you weren’t quite ready to admit.

“Really, though, I don’t understand why you’re still on the fence about it,” Layla said, stepping beside you as you discreetly observed Lando.

Her voice was laced with curiosity as she nudged your shoulder. “He’s been so into you these past few weeks. Did you see how he looked at you when he saw you?”

You sighed, leaning back against the wall, your gaze still fixed on Lando. “Yeah, well, I saw that. But just because he looks at me a certain way doesn’t mean he likes me. He’s excited about the race, Layla. I’m just… there.”

“You’re not just ‘there.’ You’re practically glowing in his vicinity. It’s like he only sees you when he talks!” Layla insisted, her tone shifting to teasing. “You could light up an entire stadium with the way he smiles at you.”

“Okay, maybe he enjoys spending time with me,” you conceded, your cheeks warming at the thought. “But that doesn't exactly scream ‘I like you.’”

“Maybe not,” she replied, tilting her head as she watched Lando waving at fans and signing autographs, “but you’ve got to admit, there’s something more. I mean, look at him! The energy is off the charts!”

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep the conversation light. “You know how he is. He’s a charismatic guy. He’s like that with everyone.”

“Maybe. But wouldn’t it be amazing if he was like that with just you?” Layla’s voice softened, and she nudged you again. “Take the leap! Ask him how he feels—it doesn’t have to be a grand declaration.”

The sun was beginning to set over the racing circuit, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky as Lando settled himself into a high-backed chair in the paddock lounge.

It had been a day filled with adrenaline, the thrill of achieving pole position lighting up his thoughts.

The victory celebrations had been electrifying, but they were quickly overshadowed by a single purpose that surged through him like fuel to an engine—he wanted to see you again.

After the debrief, he had scanned the crowd, searching for you, his excitement building with each passing second. He had been talking about trying a new restaurant in town, and he couldn’t wait to explore it with you.

But the moment he stepped into the bustling lounge, he spotted you, and his heart sank just a little.

You were laughing.

Not just a polite chuckle, but a full-bodied laugh that lit up your face. You were engaged in conversation with Ethan Smith, the American actor who had been brought in as a special guest to support the race.

Lando could see the chemistry between you two—it was glaringly evident in the way Ethan leaned in slightly, his playful jokes coaxing out laughter and smiles that made your eyes sparkle.

“Hey, you look like you’re going to kill Ethan,” Layla, your best friend, teased as she sidled up to Lando, noticing the tense atmosphere that had suddenly enveloped him.

“Who?” Lando asked, tearing his gaze from you for just a moment.

“Ethan Smith? One of the most famous actors in the US? You don’t know him?” Layla's voice was filled with disbelief.

“Nope, and I don’t like him either,” Lando grumbled, eyes narrowing as he watched Ethan wink at you.

You giggled, and Lando felt a twinge of jealousy in his chest. He stood up properly, unable to resist the pull any longer.

As he stormed over, Layla rolled her eyes, giggling softly in amusement. “Good luck, hero.”

Lando approached, trying to keep his expression neutral even while he could feel a competitive spark igniting within him.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” he said, forcing a smile as he sidled up next to you, “but I thought we were going to check out that new place together.”

You turned to him, your smile blossoming even wider. “Lando! You were amazing out there today! I still can’t believe you got pole position!”

“Thanks! It was a good day, but I’ve got even better plans,” he added, shooting Ethan a pointed look. “I’m taking you out for dinner remember.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered and amused by Lando's sudden intrusion. “Oh, is that so? Looks like you’ve got some competition, Norris.”

Lando’s jaw twitched slightly. “I don’t see any competition, honestly. You’re just a—”

“Just a what?” Ethan interrupted with a smirk, leaning back casually. “Just a huge star who happens to be having a lovely conversation with someone he finds incredibly charming?”

You giggled again, a sound that made Lando’s irritation simmer down just a fraction. “You guys, come on. I’m just trying to enjoy the evening here.”

“Exactly,” said Ethan, flashing you a disarming smile. “And you deserve it! Besides, I was just giving her some advice on how to handle the media.”

“Media?” Lando questioned, crossing his arms. “I didn’t realize you were running a media workshop.”

Ethan shrugged, unbothered. “Hey, just sharing the wisdom I’ve gained. It can be tough, huh? Like staying out of the limelight while everyone’s watching you, waiting for you to slip up.” He shot a harmless smile, but Lando felt the jabs in his stomach.

You frowned, sensing the tension. “You guys, let’s not make this into a competition. Lando, you were the one who wanted to go out tonight.”

Lando looked at you, and then back at Ethan. “Right,” he said, softening his tone as he fixed his eyes solely on you. “I just wanted to celebrate with you a little, that’s all.”

Ethan grinned, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Looks like you’ve claimed your prize, my friend. I was just enjoying the company. I’ll step back.”

Lando glanced at Ethan with a nod, appreciating the concession, but still feeling a little victorious as he turned back to you. “So, are you ready to go eat? That new place is supposed to be amazing.”

You looked back to Ethan, and then nodded, a sweet smile curling on your lips. “Yeah, I’m ready. Sorry for taking up your time, Ethan.”

Ethan waved it off with a playful wink. “No problem! Have fun out there, you two. Just remember, she was laughing with me first!”

As you and Lando began to walk away, he turned back to you with a raised eyebrow. “You know, just for the record, I think he was flirting with you.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh please, he’s just a friendly guy! Besides, I already have someone I’m interested in.”

“Good,” Lando muttered, feeling a rush of relief and warmth flooding his chest. “Just making sure.”

He smiled down at you, his heart feeling a little lighter now. “Let’s go enjoy our dinner and make some headlines of our own, huh?”

“Sounds perfect,” you said, linking your arm through his as you both made your way out, leaving the tension behind you.

Lando couldn’t help but smile at the thought of spending the evening with you, feeling that maybe the only competition that truly mattered was the one he could embrace.

The evening air was cooler than expected, igniting a small thrill of anticipation as you stepped out of the car. You looked up at the restaurant’s glowing sign, your heart fluttering a little.

This place was newly opened, a fusion of modern and vintage charm, and you were eager to see if it lived up to its reputation.

As you adjusted your jacket, you glanced at Lando, who was standing beside you with an easy grin, his eyes sparkling like the city lights around you. Ever since he came into your life, each moment felt a little more vibrant, a little more alive.

“Have you seen the menu?” you asked, looking up at him, excitement bubbling in your voice.

He nodded, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “I did, and I can tell you right now, I’m going for that pumpkin risotto. It sounds incredible.”

You laughed. “Pumpkin risotto? It seems a bit heavy for someone who just came off a race, doesn’t it?”

“Hey, I need my carbs!” he retorted playfully, nudging your shoulder with his. “Especially after that race last week. I burned more calories than I could count, you know.”

“Fine, but I’m holding you to it. If you fall asleep in the middle of dinner, we might have a problem,” you teased back, stepping inside the restaurant.

The atmosphere enveloped you like a warm embrace—soft lighting, a hint of herbs wafting from the kitchen, and laughter echoing from nearby tables. You felt a buzz of excitement in your veins as you and Lando were led to a cozy corner table.

“So, what are you going to have?” he asked, picking up the menu and scanning it with genuine interest.

You shrugged, pretending to gauge the choices with utmost seriousness. “I think I’ll try the seafood linguine. It’s been ages since I’ve had good pasta.”

Lando’s expression softened, and he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “You know, I love when you get excited about food. It’s one of those little things that makes you… well, you.”

A warm blush crept onto your cheeks. “I didn’t realize you were so observant, Mr. Norris.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I notice the important things. Like how you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking, or how your eyes light up when you talk about your favorite books.”

“Okay, now you’re just getting mushy.” Your voice barely hid your embarrassment, but the fluttering in your chest was unmistakable.

You loved how easily he could make you smile.

Their server arrived, and you both ordered. As you waited, the conversation flowed easily, moving from playful banter about Lando’s racing experiences to sharing your dream travel destinations.

“I really want to visit Japan,” you said, your eyes dancing with the thought. “The culture, the food, the cherry blossoms… it seems magical.”

Lando leaned back, an amused smile plastered on his face. “You’re a romantic at heart, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you admitted, biting your lip. “What about you? Where would you go if you had the chance?”

He paused, his expression thoughtful. “Probably somewhere quiet. Racing is intense, so I think I’d like a peaceful beach. Just to sit, reflect, and maybe learn to surf.”

“Surfing, huh?” You quirked an eyebrow. “You? I can already picture you wiping out spectacularly.”

“Oh, I’d definitely faceplant! But I’d get back up,” he said, his laughter infectious. “Just like on the track. That’s what makes it all fun, right?”

Before you could respond, your food arrived, and the divine aroma filled the air. You both dove into the dishes eagerly, enjoying the burst of flavors that danced on your tongues.

“This is amazing!” you exclaimed, savoring a mouthful of your linguine. “You have to try this.”

Lando took a bite of your pasta and nodded approvingly. “Wow, that’s really good! But I’ll stick to my risotto for now.”

As dinner continued, the conversation turned more personal. Lando shared stories of his childhood, his dreams, and the pressures of being in the limelight, while you opened up about your own aspirations and the challenges you faced.

“Sometimes, it’s overwhelming,” he confessed, a hint of vulnerability lacing his words. “I mean, I love racing, but it can feel like everyone’s expectations are just weighing down on you.”

You reached across the table, placing your hand on his. “But you’re doing something incredible, Lando. You’re following your passion and inspiring people along the way. Just don’t lose sight of what matters.”

His gaze locked onto yours, lips curving into a smile that reached his eyes. “You always know what to say to make me feel better. I’m lucky to have you around.”

In that moment, you understood something deeper was blossoming between you—a connection that transcended the thrill of racing. It was a shared dream, a mutual understanding, and an undeniable chemistry that lit up the evening.

As the night wore on and the plates were cleared, you felt a mix of contentment and longing. The restaurant buzzed with laughter and conversations, but in your little corner, it was just you and Lando, caught in your own world.

“Next time, we should pick somewhere even more adventurous,” he suggested, a playful gleam in his eyes.

You leaned back, thinking of the possibilities. “That sounds perfect. Let’s make it a tradition.”

Lando grinned, and in that moment, you knew this was just the beginning of something beautiful. You just hope that your feelings won't get in the way. . . .

Layla’s coughs echoed through the empty hall as she wrapped herself tighter in a soft blanket on the couch, trying to drown out the sound of the outside world.

It felt bitterly unfair that her body had rebelled against her just when she’d been looking forward to watching the race with you.

“Hey, Layla,” you called from the kitchen, where you were prepping a few snacks. “I’m heading out now. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

She turned her head slightly, her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed. “No, really, you should go. I’d just be a downer. Besides, I’d hate to get Lando sick. He’s got that race this weekend!”

“True, but…” you hesitated, feeling the weight of the unspoken words. “I mean, it would have been nice if we could all hang out together. I was kind of hoping you'd be there.”

Layla's smile was faint but brightened her pallid complexion. “I think you’re hoping for more than just ‘hanging out.’ You like him, don’t you?”

You sighed. “Maybe? I mean, after last night’s dinner… I just can’t tell if it was all in my head.”

A soft laugh escaped her lips, quickly followed by a cough. “You actually thought he was, what? Just being polite? You guys were practically flirting all night.”

“Flirting? Really?” You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “I thought he was just being friendly. Charming, even. He’s always like that.”

“Yeah, but that look he gave you? Come on! It was like, 'how do I impress you?’ and 'you’re amazing’ wrapped in one.” She coughed again, and you felt guilt worming its way into your chest.

“Maybe he was just being a nice guy. Or he was bored...” you trailed off, unsure.

“Or maybe he’s into you, and you just don’t want to see it,” she countered, her voice softening. “You should go talk to him. Tonight could be your chance!”

You ran a hand through your hair, pondering Layla's words. What if? What if that spark you felt between you was mutual?

You took a deep breath as you nodded. “Okay. I’m going. Just to check in on him.”

“Good! Now go knock his socks off!” Layla replied, her enthusiasm cutting through her congestion. As you waved goodbye, a quiet mix of excitement and apprehension simmered in your stomach.

You arrived at the paddock, the unmistakable hum of excitement buzzing in the air. The energy of fans waving flags and donning their favorite team colors could be felt all around; it was palpable and infectious.

You took a moment to soak it all in, engaging with the fans milling about, sharing smiles and snapshots that captured the thrill of race day.

But amidst the joviality, you couldn't shake off the knot in your stomach. Lando had been acting differently lately, receiving an outpouring of negative comments and disproportionate criticism on social media.

It made your heart ache to see someone so talented being torn down and misunderstood, especially when he had always been so kind and considerate.

Today was supposed to be about racing, but you had a growing worry that Lando might not be able to shake off the weight that was pressing down on him.

Once you greeted the last group of fans, you made your way through the paddock with purpose. The noise faded slightly as you approached Lando's garage—his sanctuary, where he would armor up for the battles on the track.

The energy there was different; it was practically electric, the team buzzing around, making final adjustments to the car and going over the last-minute strategies.

Still, your focus was solely on Lando.

You searched for him in every nook and cranny, peeking into the bustling pit area and checking around the hospitality suites. But a feeling of dread began to take root when you couldn’t find him.

“Maybe he’s in his driver’s room,” you murmured to yourself, trying to push down the worry that lingered like a shadow.

At the door, you hesitated, your heart racing. You knocked once, then twice, listening for the sound of his voice.

When no response came, you slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open, half-expecting him to be absorbed in some last-minute race preparation. Instead, the scene that greeted you was far from it.

Lando was curled up on the small, worn sofa, hands wrapped around his knees. He jumped slightly at the sight of you, his eyes wide, a mix of surprise and vulnerability.

“Oh Y/N, I didn’t hear you come in,” he said, forcing on a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You frowned at the sight of him, the dim light casting shadows across his face, revealing red-rimmed eyes. Your heart sank. “Lando… what’s wrong?”

You lowered yourself onto the sofa next to him, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, but it did little to ease your concern.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he replied too quickly, the practiced lightness in his voice clashing with the heaviness in the room.

You could see the slight tremor in his hands, and your worry deepened. You reached out, tentatively placing a hand on his knee.

“You’re not fine,” you said softly, searching his face for the usual spark you loved. “I can see it. Talk to me?”

He looked away, glancing out the window at the racetrack where the cars were roaring around the circuit.

You followed his gaze but quickly turned back to him, determined to break through the wall he had put up. “Does it have to do with the race? Is it the pressure?”

Lando shook his head, something between sad and grateful passing over his features. “It’s not that. Just… a lot on my mind, you know?” His words were heavy, like anchors sinking in deep water.

“That’s okay,” you said, shifting closer to him. “I’m here. You don’t have to go through it alone.”

He chuckled softly, though there was no humor behind it. “You’re always here, Y/N. That’s what I like about you. You make it easier.”

“Then let me help you,” you insisted gently, nudging him with your elbow while you tried to coax out a more genuine response.

“Can I get a hug?” you asked, knowing that physical closeness might be the best way to pull Lando out of the shell he’d crawled into.

He hesitated, eyes darting around the room like a deer caught in headlights. Then, hesitantly, he leaned into you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

The warmth of his body was comforting, but as he buried his face against the curve of your neck, you felt the tell-tale signs of him holding back. You hugged him tighter, hoping he could feel the strength of your support.

“Let it out,” you whispered, holding him as he exhaled deeply, searching for words that seemed stuck in his throat. “Please.”

You rubbed his back in soothing circles, the silent rhythm cocooning you both in a bubble of softness. You didn't care if you were basically sitting on his lap; all you cared about was Lando.

“It's just... a lot,” he murmured finally, his voice muffled against you. “The media, the fans—they're relentless. I don’t think I can do it today.”

“Shhh…” you soothed, leaning back slightly to bring his gaze toward you. His big, dark eyes looked lost, a storm brewing behind them. “You’re stronger than they think. You love racing, remember? You belong out there.”

He looked away, swallowing hard. You could see the emotions swirling within him, battling between fear and desire, doubt and determination. “But what if I mess up again? What if…”

“Lando,” you interrupted gently. “What if you do great? You can’t let fear write your story for you. You have to give yourself a chance.”

His fingers found your waist as he held you closer, the intensity in his grip conveying everything words could not. “I just don’t want to let anyone down,” he confessed finally, his breath warm against your ear.

“You won’t,” you assured him, your heart racing with the intimacy of the moment. “Not with me by your side. You have me, Lando; I believe in you.”

With every squeezed breath, the hug felt too tight, arms closing around you, squeezing you, pressing together, inch by inch. You could feel his hesitance melting into something else, something deeper, something that felt like your very own electricity.

Lando was the unpredictable force that set your heart aflame. Those arms wrapped tightly around you felt intoxicating, like a drug that sent your pulse racing when the rest of the world faded away.

His phone buzzed, jolting you both back to the reality of the upcoming race.

“It’s Oscar,” he muttered, annoyance tugging at his features. “I don’t want to go; I can’t face the pit or the cameras.”

You lifted your chin, meeting his gaze fully. “Well, I can’t do this for you, but I can be right there with you. You need to let them see how you feel. It’s okay to show vulnerability, Lando.”

He took a deep breath, and you could see the gears in his mind turning. “What if it’s not enough?” he muttered, but the fire in his voice was finally wavering.

“Enough for who?” you pressed. “You don’t have to perform for them. Just do your race, and I’ll be right there cheering for you.”

“Really?” He looked at you, the hope flickering in his gaze almost enough to make you lean in and kiss him.

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You grinned, feeling the air shift between you, filled with the promise of something more.

Suddenly, Oscar’s voice boomed from the other side of the door, urgent and loud. “Lando, it’s time for the race!”

Lando groaned, clearly annoyed at being forced back into reality. “I guess I can’t hide in here forever, huh?”

“Nope. Now come on, let’s get you out there and show them what you’re made of.” You smiled, standing abruptly and holding out your hand to him.

He hesitated for a heartbeat before taking it, and you felt that warm pull between you. The brief moment of intimacy melded into something more solid as he clasped your fingers. He rose to his feet, tilting his head slightly to find your gaze once again.

“Thanks,” he said softly, his voice clear and stronger now. “For everything. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Probably get a lot more nervous,” you teased lightly, nudging him playfully. “But seriously, let’s go. You��ve got a race to win.”

As Lando Norris crossed the finish line for the fourth time that season, the entire track erupted in a symphony of cheers and celebrations.

You could barely contain your excitement, adrenaline surging through you as you pulled off your headphones, the sounds of the race still echoing in your mind.

All that mattered was Lando—your brilliant, talented Lando.

You joined the staff, a vibrant mix of engineers, mechanics, and strategists, who were all equally charged up. The atmosphere was electric, the air thick with the scent of burnt rubber and victory champagne.

You barely noticed the chaos unfolding around you as everyone rallied around the pit area. The crew, those unwavering supporters who had helped you get closer to Lando before, ushered you closer, their enthusiasm infectious.

“Come on! Right this way!” one of the crew members shouted over the noise, grabbing your hand and leading you through the throng.

You felt your heart race as the crowd’s energy swirled around you, anticipation making you giddy.

“Lando! Lando! Over here!” you shouted, waving your arms above your head like a lunatic.

A couple of crew members pointed in your direction, assisting the chaotic dance of the crowd.

And then it happened. His eyes met yours—green and bright like emeralds sparkling in sunlight. Time seemed to slow as he brightened at the sight, a genuine smile breaking across his face.

Without hesitation, he tore away from the crowd, sprinting toward you. The world blurred around you, the cheers fading until nothing mattered but the two of you.

When he reached you, it was like everything else faded away. He enveloped you in the biggest hug, his head tucked tightly against your neck.

Warmth washed over you, and you couldn’t help but laugh with pure joy.

“You did it! I knew you could!” you shouted, the excitement lacing your words as your arms wrapped around his neck.

His grip tightened as he pulled back to look into your eyes, the sexual tension thick between you. Lando's gaze lingered on your lips momentarily, and something about the way he held his gaze left your heart racing.

“I couldn’t have done it without you cheering me on,” he confessed, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re my good luck charm.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” you teased playfully. “You’ve got the talent, but I like to think I add a bit of magic.”

Lando chuckled, a sound like music that echoed around you, making your heart flutter. “Well, keep that magic close then, okay?”

Before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, just a breath away from your lips. Your breath hitched as the world fell away again, your cheeks flushed with warmth and perhaps a bit more than embarrassment.

“I—I should let you go celebrate with everyone,” you said, almost feeling shy as you took a step back, the rest of the team rallying around him with congratulations.

“Hey,” he said softly, his gaze never wavering as he reached for your hand, holding it tightly. “You’re coming with me, right? We have to celebrate together after!”

You blinked, surprised. “Really? Don't you want to celebrate with only your team?”

“I want to celebrate with you too!” He smiled, an infectious grin that made your heart skip a beat. “We’ll carve out our own little celebration. Just us after.”

Your heart soared. You nodded eagerly. “Okay!”

After the podium celebrations ended, the crowd dispersed, and the atmosphere filled with the crackling excitement of victory turned to an afterglow.

Lando Norris, with his signature grin and a trophy held high, had basked in the limelight, soaking up the roaring applause of the fans.

But that was only a moment for him; now, he was dragged away to the media center, leaving you standing at the edge of the pit lane, heart fluttering with the kiss he had planted on your cheek moments before.

You leaned against the pit wall, watching as he disappeared behind a barrage of cameras and reporters.

The warmth of his fleeting affection lingered on your skin, and a smile crept across your face despite the noise around you.

“Thinking about him, I see,” a voice interrupted your thoughts. You jumped slightly, caught off guard as you turned to see Ethan approaching.

He wore a knowing smirk, one that made your stomach twist of embarrassment.

“Oh, hi Ethan, what are you talking about?” You feigned nonchalance, crossing your arms.

“Lando, I’m talking about Lando,” Ethan replied, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Look, it’s clear you’ve got this enormous crush on him, but let’s not kid ourselves. He doesn’t like you like that. He’s just being friendly.”

Your heartbeat quickened for a different reason now—a mix of frustration and hurt. “What do you mean he doesn’t like me? He just won a race, and he kissed me, it was sweet.” You tried to sound more confident than you felt.

“Sweet?” Ethan scoffed. “That was just a celebratory peck. You know how he is with his fans. He flirts with everyone. It doesn’t mean he has a thing for you.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing back against his doubt. “But it felt different. The way he looked at me before he left… Ethan, we’ve talked, we’ve laughed.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Look, you’re a great person, and I get that you want to believe he’s into you. But do you really think he’s capable of liking someone with all of this fame and pressure around him? He’s got a busy life, and girlfriends are just more trouble in that world.”

The frustration bubbled in your chest. “You sound like my mom,” you shot back, unable to hide the sharpness in your tone. “You don’t even know him like I do.”

“Fair enough,” Ethan said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But you’ve got to admit, you’re setting yourself up for a huge disappointment here. Just... don’t get your hopes too high. I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”

His exasperation was genuine, but it only deepened your resolve. “And I wouldn’t want to live my life scared to try because of what ‘might’ happen.”

Ethan sighed. “Okay, I’m not trying to ruin your fantasy. I just want you to be realistic.”

“Realistic or pessimistic?” you countered.

He laughed softly, the tension in the air easing just a bit. “Alright, let’s call it realistic, then.”

“Lando doesn’t like you that way,” Ethan had said, concern etched on his features.

Those words replayed in your head like a broken record, setting a tight knot in your stomach every time you thought of the charming driver.

Just as you attempted to shake off the lingering doubt, a staff member materialized out of thin air, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “Lando wants to see you now.”

“Thanks!” you called out, excusing yourself from Ethan’s company. 

You felt a mix of anticipation and anxiety as you navigated through the hubbub of the garage, pushing aside doubts that had lingered since your morning conversation with Ethan.

Finally standing before Lando’s driver’s room, you raised your hand and knocked gently. “Come in,” his voice called out, warm and inviting.

You opened the door to find Lando leaning against the wall, a genuine smile lighting his face, so different from the frown of earlier that day. “Hi, champ!” you greeted him, a spark of joy igniting within you.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, standing upright as he approached you. “I’m really glad you’re here.” His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, and you could feel an electric tension crackling in the air between you.

You both settled into a rhythm of lighthearted conversation, laughing and reminiscing about the week’s events, but underneath every playful jab and shared joke, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of the chemistry that simmered between you.

Lando’s gaze felt heavy on you, filled with unexpressed words that lingered just beyond reach.

The air crackles with an unspoken tension as you stare into Lando's eyes, a mix of confusion and yearning coursing through every nerve in your body.

You can feel the warmth of his presence enveloping you, a fire igniting in the pit of your stomach as you try to decipher the myriad emotions swirling between you.

“So,” Lando began, his voice almost a whisper, eyes glistening with something serious, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

His voice quivers with uncertainty, the weight of his unexpressed feelings hanging heavily in the atmosphere, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

Your mind raced back to Ethan’s words: “Lando doesn’t like you, Y/N. He’s just playing around.” You shook your head slightly. You wouldn’t let yourself believe that.

You couldn’t allow the confusion between friendship and something more to blur in your mind; it was too painful.

He said, his tone firm yet tender. “I like you, Y/N.”

“You don’t, you can’t,” you protest meekly, recalling the stinging words Ethan had casually tossed your way, words that left a lingering ache in your chest.

The notion that Lando might not harbor genuine feelings for you feels like a betrayal, an unwelcome specter haunting the edges of this beautiful moment.

“Y/N—” His voice was earnest, but you shook your head, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay.

“Please don’t joke about that. If you don’t like me—if you’re just messing around—then don’t joke about it.” Each word felt like a dagger, piercing through the bubble of hope forming in your chest.

“Why do you think I’m saying this?” he asked, his voice low and laced with emotion. “Why would I bother if I didn’t mean it? This isn’t just some casual fling for me. I care about you, and it’s driving me insane keeping it all bottled up!”

You took a step back, your back hitting the closed door. “Lando, please, you can’t say that!” Tears began to stream down your cheeks unbidden.

“Why not?” he challenged softly, moving closer again, his gaze intense. “Why can’t I? Are you really going to deny what’s been between us? You feel it too right?”

The truth in his words shattered your defenses. “Lando, I—” Your voice broke, and the words tumbled out, heavier than you imagined.

“I’ve never been someone’s first choice before. It’s hard to believe that you actually want me.”

“Then believe me,” he urged, his hand gently cupping your cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb.

Lando’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he whispered, “You deserve to hear it, and I mean every word.”

You melted into him, your head resting against his chest while he held you tightly—firmly yet gently, a safe haven amidst your unraveling emotions.

He didn’t flinch as the tears soaked his shirt.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, sniffling against his shoulder. “I don’t want to lose this.”

“You won’t lose me. Not ever,” he promised, pulling back slightly so he could look into your eyes. “Just give us a chance. I won’t hurt you.”

After a long while, you managed to calm down, your heart still racing but your breaths a little steadier. Lando pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes; the concern etched on his face warmed you.

“Can I kiss you?” Lando asked, his voice laced with just a hint of uncertainty, as if he feared this moment would evaporate into thin air.

Time seemed to stand still as you considered his question. You could feel the heat radiating between you, a magnetic pull that drew you closer.

This was the moment you had both been dancing around, the very reason for the tension that crackled in the air.

You felt a flutter in your stomach at the question, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. “Yes,” you finally breathed out, the single word filled with yearning.

His eyes sparkled, and he leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted. But you didn’t; if anything, your heart raced as he brushed his lips against yours, soft and hesitant at first.

His lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss that spoke volumes of the feelings you both had kept hidden for too long. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in a warm embrace, filled with the promise of love and acceptance.

As the kiss deepened, you felt an overwhelming sense of relief and joy. It was as if everything you had fought against—the doubt, the fear—melted away, replaced with the certainty of Lando’s affection.

You knew, right then and there, that you had finally found someone who would stay, who truly wanted you for who you were.

When the kiss finally broke, you rested your forehead against his, your hearts still racing from the intensity of it all. “I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you murmured.

“Don’t be,” he replied softly. “I’m just glad I finally got to you.”

And in that moment, surrounded by a haze of newfound love and vulnerability, you both knew that this was only the beginning of something beautiful.

Something that you both deserved. . . . .

[hgfictionwriter]

Self Control: Part Fourteen - New Beginnings

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Baby Riley’s arrival in your and Jessie’s life has been an adjustment, but one she wouldn’t trade for the world. It’s been a whirlwind, but you and Jessie finally get to reconnect.

Warnings: G!P content. Themes of insecurity and rejection. Somnophilia?? Hand job. And some good old passionate, emotional sex.

A/N: I received requests throughout the series for reader to be insecure about her body post-delivery with Jessie comforting her. This is in response to those requests.

Jessie slowly paced back and forth across room, Riley resting against her chest as she gently coaxed the infant to sleep. She didn’t want to jinx anything, but from the way her daughter relaxed in her arms, she may have finally fallen asleep.

Jessie stilled for a moment to peer down at her daughter. She was a couple of months old now and Jessie loved this little one more than she thought was even possible. Don’t get her wrong, it wasn’t easy - some nights were painful, and sometimes the days weren’t that much easier. Her parents had stayed for a while to help, your and Jessie’s friends were in and out to help, but even then it could be hard. They say it takes a village and they aren’t wrong.

Even with the help you and her were lucky enough to have, it was a lot of work, took a lot of patience, and you were both exhausted. But every time she saw Riley, held her, heard her babbling and fussing, it just overwhelmed Jessie in the best way possible. This was her little girl and she absolutely adored her.

Riley had only been in her life for two months but Jessie couldn’t fathom a life without her now. It was the three of you and that’s exactly how it was meant to be.

Riley lay peacefully in Jessie’s embrace and Jessie very tentatively approached the crib and set her daughter down into it. She stared at the infant for a few seconds, simply taking her in and appreciating her.

There was no doubt that she was Jessie’s baby. She had wispy, wavy dark hair like hers, the same eyes and nose - when compared to her own baby pictures, it was uncanny. Jessie found herself smiling as she looked down at her sleeping daughter. Nearly every day brought something new and it was so incredible.

Jessie carefully retrieved the baby monitor and very gingerly tip-toed out of the room. She only exhaled once she was partway down the hall. She quieted once more as she approached your bedroom and quietly peeked in.

“Babe?” Jessie whispered with a frown when she saw you on your phone in bed.

You’d pumped earlier, so Jessie had taken bedtime duties, feeding Riley, changing her, bathing her and putting her to bed. Jessie knew how exhausted you were so fully expected you to be fast asleep.

You set down your phone with a soft smile and shifted, tucking your arm under the pillow and rolling onto your side to watch Jessie approach.

“I slept for a bit. Did she go down okay?” You asked.

Jessie climbed into bed and kissed your forehead as she laid down to face you, returning your smile. “Yeah, she was great tonight.”

“Well, you’re so good with her. She always responds well to you. I know it’s early, but I think she’s a bit of a mommy’s girl,” you teased.

Jessie grinned but soon rolled her eyes with a dismissive wave. In reality, your affirmation really bolstered her. She didn’t want to admit it, but she’d initially felt insecure and worried that she’d face some challenges bonding with Riley since she wasn’t the birth parent. Thankfully, those concerns had been put to rest. It also helped that it was her off season now and she could be far more present for both you and Riley.

Jessie leaned in and gave you a peck. “You should get some sleep, love,” she gently encouraged. Your gaze shifted away momentarily before you gave her a light shrug.

“I’m not that tired right now,” you told her and she quirked an eyebrow at you in disbelief.

“I highly doubt that,” she countered. You ignored her and soon your fingers were trailing across her shoulder, your touch so light and teasing it sent a subtle shiver down her spine.

“Are you tired?” You asked instead as you held her gaze. She narrowed her eyes at you.

“I mean. A little. But I slept a bit this afternoon when you had her, so I’m okay for now,” Jessie replied.

“Okay,” you said, dragging out the word as your index finger drew light circles on her collarbone before trailing down her chest, your hand settling on her abs and teasing lightly.

Jessie felt a rush go through her body at your touch and she cleared her throat, shifting back an inch or two.

You hadn’t slept together since Riley was born. Your body had been through so much and you were so exhausted caring for Riley; sex wasn’t on the table and Jessie had no problem with that. Her focus was on giving you the space and support to rest and recover. The absolute last thing she’d want was for you to feel like you needed to rush back into physical intimacy or that she was pressuring you in any way.

You retracted your hand for a moment before wrapping your arm around her waist and pulling yourself flush with her. Whatever uncertainty Jessie had about your intentions were immediately quashed as you leaned in and began kissing her neck.

“I feel like I’ve barely seen you recently,” you whispered as you kissed her neck and your hand wandered across her back and down to massage her firm ass.

Jessie’s body tensed up immediately under your touch and she found herself shifting slightly away again. Her arm wrapped tentatively around you and her eyes remained opened and focused on the far wall.

“I-I know what you mean. But you really don’t get much time to rest, you should really try to sleep while you can,” she reasoned despite what the appendage between her legs wanted.

“Baby,” you implored as your hands continued to explore her. “I want you.”

Jessie’s eyes screwed shut for a moment before she refocused, trying to think of anything and everything other than pinning you to the bed and sinking inside of you.

“I-I want you too. But, aren’t you tired? And aren’t you still sore? We don’t need to rush. Get some sleep, babe. It’s important you get the rest you need and the time to recover. We really don’t need to do anything. I’m okay,” she tried to assure you.

A pit immediately formed in her stomach as soon as your hands stilled and you pulled back enough to look at her.

“I’m telling you what I want and need,” you said measuredly with a frown. Jessie hesitated, still skeptical that it was the right thing to do. Your frown deepened and you leaned in to kiss her harder.

She wanted to reciprocate. She really did. But her apprehension hindered her. She returned your kiss, but she was tentative and stiff in her movements.

You hummed into the kiss and grabbed her hand, bringing it to your ass. A wave rushed over Jessie, but she controlled herself and instead of caressing you - groping you even - she merely thumbed you with a grazing touch.

You released a muffled grunt and rolled your hips against her. Jessie wasn’t able to help herself from pulling back in response.

You stiffened in her arms and before Jessie could process what was happening you retracted from her. She opened her eyes in time to catch an unreadable expression on your face before you turned onto your other side to face away from her. She opened her mouth to speak, no words coming out initially as you swiftly tugged the blankets up under your chin.

"Uh, wha-?" Jessie stammered as she shimmied over in the bed to spoon you. Surprise washed over her as you stiffened and pulled away.

"Huh?" She couldn't help but say.

"Never mind, Jess," you said flatly, tucking your head into the pillow furthermore.

"What? Babe," she said imploringly as a feeling of dread began to creep in. She leaned over you to try to study your face and you wiped irritably at your eyes and turned further away from her prying eyes.

"It's fine," you said sternly. "Let's just go to sleep."

"Baby," she said softer, her shoulders falling as she tentatively placed a hand on your arm only to be shrugged off. "Oh- Come on, what's wrong? I- I think there's been a misunderstanding. Tell me what's going on."

"It's all good, Jess. Don't worry," you said, though the congestion in your voice did the opposite of reassure her.

"Oh my gosh," Jessie said in frustration with herself, but saw you stiffen up in response. She quickly went to correct things. "I'm so sorry. I-I'm really worried that you've misunderstood me."

"What - that you don't find me attractive now?" You challenged, still refusing to turn to her. Jessie's jaw dropped and she stared at your profile in shock.

"Are you serious?" She asked, unable to entirely snuff out the disbelieving laugh that bubbled up. You turned on her.

"Is this funny to you?" You asked in a harsh whisper with tears in your eyes. "You try having a baby and we'll see how quickly you get your old body back - if at all."

"Oh my gosh," Jessie said, still stunned by this revelation. "Y/N, you are gorgeous to me. What are you talking about?"

You rolled your eyes, but she saw the way your lip trembled as you turned your back to her once more and curled into yourself.

"Just stop it, Jess," you said quietly.

She stuttered once more as her mind reeled, trying to comprehend what was happening and how to fix it. She went to put her arm around you again and you pushed her away.

"Please. It's not your fault. I don't want you to pretend. I just- never mind. I'm going to sleep," you told her.

"Baby," she said a bit more forcefully. "Please listen to me. I adore you and I always find you attractive. I'm just beyond stunned that you think otherwise. I-"

"I just want to go to sleep," you cut her off.

More words were on the tip of her tongue, but they hung there as she battled her indecision. The seconds passed and so did the window for her to speak. Her body grew listless and she gave up and let herself fall rather roughly onto her back, regretting the way it jostled the bed as you huffed in annoyance. She looked over at you longingly, willing you to give her another chance.

She was a bundle of nerves as she lay there. She played the preceding events over and over in her head, now realizing where she'd gone wrong and wishing she could change it.

She couldn't help but look over at you from time to time in hopes that you'd shift or look over at her. However, you faced determinedly away until she eventually heard your breathing deepen - sleep ultimately taking you despite your claims that you weren't tired.

She picked up her phone and wrote you a message.

"Y/n. I'm so, so sorry for how things went tonight. I can't tell you how sick it makes me feel to think that I've made you feel like I don't find you attractive. I think you are the absolute, most gorgeous woman. Truly. There aren't enough words to express how much I want you. I know how that sounds, but it's true. I feel like I'm made for you in every way - physical being no exception. I know your body is different than it was a 2 months ago, than it was a year ago, but you're sexy at every stage. Your curves are incredible and I adore how you feel in my arms. I've definitely failed if you have even a shred of doubt about how sexy I find you. You're my fiancée, the mother of my child, and you get me going even when you don't try."

"I know how I made you feel tonight, but it honest to god was just me being in my head and scared of pressuring you or rushing you. You mean the world to me and I would wait a hundred years if you needed me to. Your well-being means the most to me and I would never forgive myself if I hurt you in any way. I should've listened to what you were saying though. You know your body and I needed to trust you. I'm sorry."

"Does it mean anything if I tell you that when you were kissing me all I could really picture was just pushing your underwear aside and sinking inside of you? Feeling your softness all around me while I fuck you (make love? I'm sorry - I'm kind of feral right now) into the mattress and cum deep inside of you?"

“You’re the only girl for me. In every single way.”

She heard your phone buzz as her messages came through. She sighed and set her phone aside. She might as well try to get some sleep as well and hopefully you'd feel better in the morning.

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

It wasn't shocking that Jessie had a bit of a wet dream given her thoughts as she fell asleep, but she couldn't help but frown as she stirred from her sleep and the feel of your hand around her member didn't fade. In fact, it became more vivid.

She blinked awake and though her eyes had hardly adjusted, she looked down to see you cuddled into her. Most importantly though, she could see the shifting of the blankets in time with the feel of your warm hand wrapped around her stiff length as you casually jerked her off.

She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by you kissing her deeply.

This time, Jessie went with the rush that crashed over her. Her hand came up to cup the side of your neck and she leaned up to meet your kiss with equal fervour.

You moaned into the kiss and Jessie's fingers curled around the back of your neck, pulling you harder into her. She was rock hard now and her hips began to buck up into your hand and your strokes grew firmer and quicker.

"You got my messages?" Jessie whispered into the kiss, a smile on her lips as her hands began to roam across your body in both want and appreciation.

"Mhmm," you mumbled with a nod and she could feel your smile.

"I'm really sorry, baby," she told you in earnest. You shook your head against her.

"I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions," you reciprocated.

You let out a small giggle as Jessie flipped you both so you were on your back and she was on top of you, your hand falling away from her in the process though. She grinned above you as her hardened cock lay on your pelvic area and you subtly began to rock up against her.

"No underwear already? Mmm. Shall we kiss and make up?" She joked and you gave her a playful shove.

"I think we're past that already," you returned as your reached down once more and began to jerk her again.

"Ah fuck," Jessie breathed, her head falling at the feel of your hand rubbing up and down her length. "You're incredible."

"Then show me," you teased as you grasped her chin with your other hand and pulled her down into another kiss. She moaned into it as she began to slowly thrust into your waiting hand. She leaned down to begin laying patient, open mouth kisses along your neck.

"Baby, I'm so wet already. I don't think I can wait," you told her as you writhed beneath her. "I'm literally pulsing."

"Oh God," Jessie breathed as she nipped at your neck in response. "I'm warning you right now. I'm not going to last long. I promise I'll make it up to you though."

You chuckled beneath her. "You know I find it sexy as hell when I make you cum quickly."

Jessie snickered. "Well, you're going to find me real sexy tonight then. I could fucking cum in your hand and onto your stomach right now."

"Maybe you should," you said as you pumped her faster, paying extra attention to her throbbing head.

"Christ," Jessie ground out as she thrust into your hand. "You work me so good every fucking time. I swear."

"Well," you nudged her back up to kiss her on the lips, "I'm made for you, you know."

Jessie smiled as her chest swelled with emotion. However, the tension in her cock quickly took hold.

"I'm seriously going to cum," she warned, her breathing growing shallow and quick. You didn't say anything this time, you simply kept coaxing her towards her climax and your tongue parted her lips to begin exploring her mouth.

She kissed you hungrily for as long as she could until her body stiffened as she began to eject ropes of cum onto your stomach. While she arched over you, you continued to writhe beneath her, moaning in satisfaction at the effect you had on her.

"Oh fuck," she panted as she relaxed on top of you. Only now did she belatedly realize that this was the first time in months that she could lay easily on you, no longer a bump and growing baby inside of you to maneuver around and protect.

She gave herself a few prolonged seconds to catch her breath, eyes closed against you, before she spoke. "I'm not done. I promise," she assured you.

"I know, baby," you chuckled as your fingers traced teasing circles on her sculpted back. “Did you know this period is when partners cheat the most?”

Jessie lifted her head with a heavy frown. You chuckled at her expression and gave her a quick kiss.

“They’re assholes who clearly don’t love their woman like I do,” she said as she began to kiss your neck and shoulders. Her let her hands wander across your body and it was mere moments before she was at full attention and ready to go again.

"I know in your text you said you wanted to cum inside me, but...," you trailed off. Jessie moved off of you to the nightstand with no further prompt needed.

"I know. Not yet," she affirmed for you as she retrieved the long forgotten box of condoms. She blew on the box pretending to blow dust off of it. She grinned as you snickered.

"You are such a dork," you commented as she began to roll a condom on for the first time in nearly a year.

As much as she’d miss fucking you raw - the astounding sensation of your tight core hugging her so perfectly with no barrier, never mind just the primal factor of her getting to cum in your unprotected heat - and how unlikely it was that you’d get pregnant just yet, it was far too early to risk it.

Jessie returned between your legs a moment later and began guiding her cock up through your folds and across your sensitive clit. You dug your head back into the pillow immediately as a moan hit her ears.

"Is this okay?" She asked, trying to be considerate, but not too tentative.

"Fuck yes," you nearly panted.

"Tell me if anything hurts or if it's ever too much, okay?" She told you and could see the way you frowned in the dark.

"Jessie," you whined.

She followed her instincts and settled the tip of her cock at your entrance, nudging in ever so slightly.

"Is this what you want?" She whispered in your ear. She was met with your nails raking across her back and your heels dragging up and down the back of her legs.

"I need you," you said in desperation. Jessie's back tensed up as an overwhelming feeling came over her. She wrapped an arm around your back and dug her fingers into your skin, pulling you close.

"I need you, too," she said. She kissed you deeply as she lowered her hips and allowed herself to slip inside of you for the first time in two months.

The kiss immediately broke as your mouth and hers fell open in ecstasy. The feeling was overwhelming for Jessie as your soft, inviting heat embraced her tightly.

"Oh God," you gasped as your fingers dug into the back of her biceps. She forced her eyes open.

"Are you alright?" She managed to ask.

"God yes," you said as you began to run your hands through her hair. Jessie groaned low in her chest as she remained sheathed inside of you and buried her face in your neck.

"God, I've missed you," she breathed in reverie. "You feel so fucking amazing. Oh my God." She inhaled deeply, feeling her cock twitch inside of you as you fluttered around her length. "Mmnh. God. You're even better than I remember. Holy shit."

You let out a breathy laugh. "I missed having you inside me."

"Mmm," Jessie groaned once more as she slowly pulled her hips back, relishing the feel of your walls gripping her as she withdrew until just the head of her cock was inside of you. "My favourite place to be."

She slowly sunk back into you until she was fully engulfed once more. The small gasp of pleasure you released in her ear nearly sent her into a frenzy. However, she wanted to make sure she didn't get carried away. Yet, anyway.

Her strokes were measured as she began to explore your depths again. Soon, she felt your hands on your ass and as you began to guide her pace.

"I can take it, baby," you promised her.

Trusting your lead, she began to pump into you more fully and it was only a matter of time before the bed began to rock underneath you with every stroke. It was far from hard and fast, but her skin tingled with how delicious it felt to sink into you so deeply and be wrapped in such warmth.

“Oh God, Jess,” you panted in her ear as she filled you repeatedly. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Jessie grunted over top of you feeling her peak approaching again already. “I’ve missed you too. I love you so much.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before her lips crashed into yours. She clutched you tighter to her as she made love to you. Her fingers clawed at your skin and her knees dug into the mattress as she tried in vain to get ever closer to you.

Your nails dug into her hips as you met her thrusts and your breath shuddered into the kiss. “I’m going to cum.”

"Fuck, I missed you falling apart on my cock,” Jessie ground out as she allowed more tension to build between her legs.

She retrieved one of your hands and laced her fingers with yours, pinning it to the bed. “I love you so much, Y/N,” she proclaimed as she tightened her grip on your hand and tears unexpectedly threatened to pool in her eyes. She gave a slight shake of her head and buried her face in your neck. “I couldn’t love anyone else. You’re it for me.”

You moaned, tone high with want as you wrapped your free arm tightly around her back and clung to her.

“Don’t ever leave me, Jess.” Your voice was somehow strong, but trembling. “I couldn’t take it.”

Jessie tucked her head into you further, panting against your skin as her strokes grew stronger. Her climax was imminent.

“I could never. I’d be devastated and so fucking lost without you.” She grunted against your sensitive skin as the bed rocked beneath you. “I need you. You’re the only one who could ever make me feel like this.”

Instead of reciprocating, your quiet, pining moans rang in Jessie’s ears as your core began to tighten and convulse around her cock. The feeling was too much and she dug her feet into the mattress as she pushed into you to the hilt and began to pour her hot seed into the condom separating you from her.

It felt like her nerve endings were on fire as she came with you. The way you clutched her, the way you sounded, the way you felt - nothing could compare.

You lay wordlessly in one another’s embrace as you both came down from your long awaited highs. Jessie was so content she couldn’t even be bothered to pull out or shift off of you.

Sleep had nearly taken her when a sharp, warbling cry came through the baby monitor on the nightstand. You both jolted at the sound before simultaneously giving a brief groan that dissolved into soft chuckles.

Jessie kissed your cheek.

“I’ll go. You get some sleep,” she whispered.

“No, it’s my turn,” you said, but Jessie was already moving off of you. She couldn’t help but moan softly as she pulled out of you.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” she told you as she got off the bed and snapped off the condom. You went to get up and she held out her hands, instructing you to stay. “I’ve got her. Don’t worry.”

“You’re too good to me.”

———————

Jessie paced Riley’s room once more, her daughter freshly changed and napping in her arms once more.

“You two look so adorable.”

Jessie turned towards the door upon hearing your hushed voice.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” Jessie chided mildly as you approached. You leaned down slightly so your face was even with Riley’s and very gently caressed her cheek before meeting Jessie’s watchful gaze.

“I wanted to see you both,” you said simply.

She wanted to reprimand you further, but that will faded seeing you with Riley like this. She relented, settling for a vaguely disapproving look.

“She frowns like you, too,” you whispered teasingly as you gave Jessie a peck on the cheek. “I was going to offer to help get her back to sleep, but you clearly have things under control.”

Jessie gave you a prideful smile as she gently bobbed up and down with Riley. She looked down at her daughter. “Yeah, we’ve got things under control, don’t we? You’re the very best.”

She softly set Riley down back into her crib and you came up next to her to look down at your baby.

“We made a pretty cute kid, didn’t we?” You said, coaxing a gentle smile out of Jessie as she wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you in. You rest your head on her shoulder and she kissed your crown.

“We really did,” she agreed.

You stood together in silence for several moments simply watching your daughter sleep. Jessie couldn’t help but reflect on how perfect her life had become. And you were at the center of it all. Everything started with you.

“Thank you,” she said.

You shifted in her arms and she could perfectly envision the perplexed look on your face.

“For what?”

She lifted your chin to kiss you, soft and sweet.

“For everything.”

A/N: One chapter left!

[janeyseymour]

Drunk Actions, Sober Thoughts

Summary: Janine's end of the school year party gets a little out of hand- handsy.

WC: ~3.2k

You’ve been a teacher at Abbott Elementary for a few years now, teaching alongside Gregory Eddie as a first grade teacher. And because you’re grade-level partners with one of the  more infamous teachers at the school, you become friends with that group- the group of teachers who tend to be a bit more outspoken and have more of an in with the, at times inconsistent and slightly ridiculous, principal.

You weren’t always a part of that group, but after a couple of months, they began to welcome you with open arms. The one teacher that took you under her wing the most was none other than South Philly Princess Melissa Schemmenti. The rough and tough, often hard to read, leather jacket and eyeliner wearing badass of the school grew close to you quickly once you showed her that you were here to stay.

You don’t even really understand why she took to you the way that she did, but you aren’t complaining. It’s much better to be on her good side rather than her bad side. Although, you would dare to say that she doesn’t have a bad side; she always looks phenomenal.

Because you have this in with the iconic group of Abbott Elementary, you manage to get yourself an invitation to the “party of the century” as Janine Teagues is putting it.

“You’re going, right?” Melissa asks you at lunch.

You chuckle. “Of course I’m going.” Then you lean in closer to her and Barbara. “If only to watch those two-“ You point to Janine and Gregory flirting. “-finally get their shit together.”

Barbara smirks knowingly. “I have a feeling they will.”

“One can only hope,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “They need to get their heads out of their asses and just fuck already.”

“Melissa!” the kindergarten teacher scolds as she smacks her friend’s hand.

The redhead can only shrug. She stands by what she uttered.

You just nudge the woman beside you before closing up your container and standing. “And on that note,” you laugh. “I actually do have some final things I have to finish up in the classroom, so I’ll see you all tonight.”

You leave with a small wave and a smile, and as you turn to go, Melissa’s eyes don’t leave your body.

“Girl,” Barbara’s deep voice pulls the redhead out of her trance. “You got it bad for her.”

Green eyes are rolled so hard that the kindergarten teacher is shocked they don’t get stuck that way. “I do not.”

“I have a feeling Gregory and Janine aren’t going to be the only ones who get it together tonight,” is all the kindergarten teacher mutters to her best friend.

“Oh please,” Melissa groans. “And even if I did have a thing for her, which I do not, it’d never happen. Ain’t no way a young thing like that would want… this.”

Barbara almost quips about how she’s caught you hanging onto every word that Melissa says, how your eyes rarely leave her figure when she isn’t looking, how you tend to follow her around like a lost puppy dog. But she doesn’t. Instead, Barb just shrugs.

The two older women of the friend group show up to Janine’s house an hour early to help get the place in order. And oh is it a good thing they did, at least that’s what they think. In reality, the second grade teacher had planned for that- the life of poor Janine. But they manage to get the small apartment ready in time for the party to begin.

And quietly, Barbara Howard tells herself that she’s going to play matchmaker. She’ll get Gregory and Janine together as much as possible, and she’s also going to attempt to get you and her work wife to finally see what’s going on between the two of you.

A drunk Melissa tends to be a more confident (not that she could get much more confident than she already is) and affectionate person than a sober Melissa. But in order for the redhead to get to that place of feeling good, Land Barbara knows that she’s going to have to let Sea Barbara out of her cage. So right as guests begin to arrive, the kindergarten teacher pours two shots and hands one to her work wife. The two take them in tandem, and then Barbara is mixing up two cocktails- strong cocktails.

“Jesus, Barb,” the second grade teacher grimaces as she wipes the little droplet that dribbled down her chin. “Are you tryin’ to get Sea Barbara to come out?”

The kindergarten teacher just gives an innocent smile, points to the cup, and takes another large swig of her own drink. Melissa follows. 

By the time that you show to the little apartment, the party is in full swing. Janine lets you in with a smile, Gregory by her side. You give your grade-level partner a curious look, but he shakes his head subtly.

“Come in! Come in!” the second grade teacher is all grins. “The- the party got a little hectic, and not everyone is in their assigned places, but… it’s a party!”

You just chuckle and thank Janine for hosting as you step inside. Your eyes scan the place, and in the center of the dance floor is that vibrant red hair that you were hoping to see. She’s… wow. And Barbara is right next to her dancing with a cardboard cutout of… why is Barbara dancing with a cardboard cutout of Allen Iverson?

Despite your confusion about what is taking place in the center of the room, you make your way over.

“Hey, hey,” you yell over the loud music.

“Oh my God!” Melissa yells as she practically throws herself at you. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you!”

“Had dinner with my mom,” you chuckle as you hold her in your arms. Wow. She gives good hugs. And despite the fact that she’s very hot from dancing in such a small space, she smells incredible. “But I’m here now!”

“Yes you are!” Green eyes scan over your outfit, and you can’t help but notice the way that her gaze lingers on the deep neckline of your shirt. “Wow. You look incredible!”

The lights are dim enough that the redhead hopefully can’t see the blush that creeps into your cheeks. You thank God for that one.

“Barb!” Melissa taps her friend. “Look! My girl finally made it!”

Her girl? You hope that your surprise at that title doesn’t show on your face. You just smile and wave to the kindergarten teacher who already seems to be quite inebriated.

“We gotta get you a drink!” the second grade teacher grins. She’s pulling you off towards the drink section before you can even figure out what’s happening.

“Here,” Melissa pours you a rum and coke and shoves it into your hand before you can politely decline the offer.

“Oh,” you chuckle softly. “I wasn’t really planning on drinking tonight… have breakfast with my dad tomorrow morning, and don’t wanna show up too hungover.”

The redhead nods along before reaching for the solo cup and taking a sip of her own concoction. She screws her eyes shut tightly as she swallows. “Damn, I made that strong.”

You roll your eyes before taking the beverage back into your hand and taking a small sip. “Oh my…” you suck in a breath. “Wow, Mel.”

She shrugs with a smile before taking you back into the center of the party. The crowd is mostly people you know, but there are a few unfamiliar faces, or faces that maybe you weren’t quite expecting to be here.

After you ask who one person is, you find yourself being tugged alongside Melissa as she introduces you to those that you aren’t very aware of who they are. It’s hard for you to focus though, because the redhead keeps a warm hand on the small of your back almost the entire time, and whenever someone gets a bit too close to you for her liking, Melissa pulls you flush against her. Each time she does that, her grip gets just the slightest bit tighter on you. It really wouldn’t take that much more to just… lean over and kiss her cheek, or have her kiss yours. You find yourself wishing that’s what would happen, but it never does.

It also catches your attention that she almost always introduces you to everyone as ‘her girl’. You hate to admit it, but you practically glow each and every time she calls you that. You hope you aren’t being too obvious in your feelings for the redhead beside you. Even if you are though, you’re fairly certain that you’re the only relatively sober one here, and then woman clinging to you is beyond hammered at this point.

“My girl,” Melissa nearly purrs as she takes a sip from the red cup that you’ve been carrying around for her. “Thanks for holding my drink, babe.”

“Babe?” you raise your brow with a laugh.

The redhead just shrugs with a grin and shoots you a wink. She finishes it off, sets the cup on the counter, and then she’s pulling you back into the center of the party- the dance floor.

Her hands are all over your body as you dance. They find their way to your back, your hips, and then you feel a hand slip into the back pocket of your jeans as she pulls you closer.

“Mel,” you gasp out in surprise.

She pulls her hand out of your pocket immediately. “Sorry, I- sorry.”

“Eh, don’t be,” you smile at her. If she’s going to touch you, now is the time. She won’t remember it tomorrow, and it’s not like this will ever happen again. “I know I have a great ass, and the only person I would want touching it is you.” You delicately take her hand and put it back where it was.

Melissa’s perfectly drawn on brows creep up her forehead ever so slightly before she resumes her dancing.

From a few paces over, Barbara clocks that act, and she shoots the cameraman an impressed look before going back to dancing with a cardboard Allen Iverson. 

All good things must come to an end, and after about an hour of having the woman of your dreams pressed up against you tightly, practically grinding on you with her hand in your back pocket and squeezing gently from time to time, the party begins to die out. People begin to say their goodbyes, Janine is starting to clean things up, and you see that it’s probably your cue to start heading home for the night. You glance at the clock on the wall, and it’s nearing two in the morning.

The redhead still right by your side, holding onto your arm, whines slightly when the music goes off. She doesn’t extract her hand from your pocket though.

“I think it’s about time we start heading out,” you chuckle gently.

“But I’m having a great time,” Melissa mumbles against your neck.

Your cheeks once again heat up at feeling her hot breath against your skin. Still, you shake your head, and you glance over to Barbara who is attempting to find her shoes that she discarded long ago.

“Barb, how are you getting home?”

“Oh I called Gerald,” the kindergarten teacher promises you.

“Can I hitch a ride?” Melissa asks her work wife. “I don’ wanna get into an Uber like this.”

Barbara, who would usually always take her best friend home, shakes her head though. “Melissa, I am exhausted, and I need to get to bed. I’m sure Y/N will take you home though, right dear?”

You nod. “Yeah, I can take Mel back,” you smile. “Not a problem at all.”

The redhead, in her drunken state, just grins and kisses your cheek before sticking her tongue out at her work wife. “Hear that, Barbie? I don’ need you to give me a ride- not when I have my girl here with me.”

The lights of course turn on before the blush dissipates from your cheeks, and there’s a small stain of where Melissa had kissed your cheek.

“Alright, Mel, let’s start heading out, yeah?” you chuckle softly.

Her hand only leaves your back pocket briefly to hug Barb goodbye, and then it’s slipped right back to where it’s been for the last hour. “You ready to take me home?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Let’s go, hun.”

You get her to your car, and then when she struggles with the buckle, you can’t help the slight giggle that escapes your lips. She turns to you with a pout.

“Oh, don’t do that,” you laugh softly. With ease, you clip the seatbelt. “Alright, Mel. You gotta direct me.”

She gets you back to her house with ease, although you can’t help but be the slightest bit distracted because while her hand isn’t resting in your back pocket anymore, it’s sitting on your knee and every once in a while glides up to your thigh. Her thumb rubs circles on your jeans warmly, and you can feel her gaze on you.

You pull in to her driveway and smile at her softly.

“I don’t want tonight to end,” Melissa sighs quietly. “Would you want to come in?”

Silently, you turn the key to turn your car off and climb out. You’re at her side a few seconds later, opening the door and holding out a hand to help her out of the car.

The two of you walk up to her house hand in hand, and then Melissa is pulling her keys from her purse. She fumbles with the lock for a few seconds, and then when she pulls the keys out of the lock, she drops them. 

You lean down to pick them up, and when you stand back up, her lips are on your own. It takes a second for your brain to catch up to your body, but the second it does, you’re kissing her back. It’s only a few seconds, but it’s everything you could’ve imagined and more. But you know she’s nowhere near sober.

“Melissa,” you whisper.

Her hand cups your cheek and pulls you in again. You can taste the rum that she was drinking earlier on in the night, but you can’t find yourself to care. Despite the fact that your brain is screaming at you to stop kissing a drunk Melissa, you can’t stop. 

She pushes the door open, and before you know it, you’re pinned up against the wall, and her lips are hungrily on your neck, teeth just barely grazing your collarbone. Her hands and wandering all over your body.

When you realize that she isn’t going to stop any time soon, you know you have to put your foot down. You’re not about to cross a boundary- not when she’s absolutely hammered.

“Mel, you gotta-” You sigh softly. “You gotta stop.”

“I don’t want to,” she whines.

You pull her face away from your chest gently. “And I don’t want you to, but… you’re not in the right state of mind.”

“I’m in the perfect state of mind,” the redhead tells you. “I- I want you.”

“Not like this,” you tell her firmly. “Not when you’re hammered out of your mind. I’m not going to take advantage of you like this.”

“You wouldn’t be,” she continues to try to convince you to keep going.

You shake your head. “Mel, I- I care about you a lot. I don’t want you making a mistake that you aren’t going to want to face tomorrow.”

“It ain’t a mistake,” she tells you. “I been into you since you started workin’ at Abbott. Just didn’t think you’d be into this.”

“Oh, I am,” you chuckle, and you feel the red in your ears, your cheeks, and your chest. “But I think that maybe we should talk about this later… not while you’re drunk.”

“Drunk words and actions are sober thoughts,” Melissa tells you.

You roll your eyes. “I know, hun. I know. But I- I think we need to have a real conversation about this tomorrow.”

“Fine,” the redhead pouts. “But I still don’t want this night to end.”

You smile at her softly. “Why don’t we just hang out then?”

She nods against you, and she pulls you up to her bedroom.

“Melissa.”

“Not for that,” she waves you off. “Just want to change, figured you would want to change too.” She throws a tee and shorts your way.

You make your way to the bathroom and change before knocking on the bedroom door before entering. When you walk in, Melissa is propped up in her bed and scrolling on her phone.

You sit next to her, and your coworker rolls her eyes. “You don’t gotta be so stiff. I ain’t gonna try nothin’ right now. Just want to relax.”

You sigh softly, but you move slightly closer to her. You set your alarm just in case you end up falling asleep here, and then you set your phone down.

“I really do like you, you know. I don’t just want sex from you,” Melissa tells you. “Just needed some liquid courage.”

“I believe you,” you yawn out quietly. “Just don’t want you making a decision while you’re in this state.”

“See, and that’s what I love about you,” the redhead sets her phone down, takes her glasses off, and lays herself down. “You’re you- warm, sweet, considerate, caring… stunning to look at.”

“Get some sleep,” you chuckle softly.

Melissa yawns. “Don’t go tonight though.”

“I won’t,” you promise. “But I do have to slip out early tomorrow morning to meet my dad, so please don’t be concerned if I have to leave before you wake up.”

“I won’t,” your coworker says sleepily. Her eyes close, and she’s sound asleep within minutes.

The next morning, you wake up before your alarm. Your body is practically underneath Melissa- her arms are wound around your waist tightly, her head rests on your chest, and there’s a smile on her lips as she sleeps. It’s hard to tell where her body ends and yours begins.

You shimmy slightly just to turn off your alarm so it doesn’t wake her. Gently, so gently, you untangle yourself from her and slip out of the bed. You gather your things as quietly as you can, and you somehow manage to make your way out of the bedroom without waking her.

Once you’re in the living room, you manage to find a pad and pencil and write her a short, but sweet, note.

I had to slip out to meet my dad for breakfast, but I’ll come by after. We can talk then, because I really do want to talk about the things that happened last night. 

You sign your name with a scrawled out heart, and then you exit the house, mind swirling with what journey you could possibly be embarking on with the redhead of your dreams if she was serious about the things she said last night. 

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead

[xxgoldie]

lighter x reader, alcohol (lighter is drunk, nitro-fuel is alcoholic here), otherwise just pure fluff

thinking about lighter, stumbling up to you, the smell of nitro-fuel on his breath (and his shirt - he'd definitely spilled some on himself earlier, though with how unstable he was standing, you were hardly surprised). a bit of a party atmosphere had developed around steeltusk's bar tonight, and lighter had definitely had more than he should have. you had barely joined the gathering for a few minutes, relaxing a bit further from the bar, but as soon as he'd noticed you, he had made a (very wobbly) beeline for you.

"(Y/N)."

his hands went to your shoulder, using you to stabilise himself, even though his weight made you stumble a bit too.

"hi," you laughed, a rare sight to see the champion so discomposed, though he was looking into your eyes with a slightly nervewracking seriousness through those shades.

"we should get married."

it took you a couple beats to process his slurred words. heat rushed to your face, one you hoped, if someone noticed, you could blame on the one drink you'd had so far. you searched his face for the punchline, or any sort of elaboration. all you found was a similar searching - he was waiting for you to answer. he was almost pleading with his eyes, swaying a little from the alcohol - this was absurd.

"you are so drunk," was all you could muster, chuckling in disbelief. lighter collapsed against you, arms wrapping around your neck and head on your shoulder, and you swore you heard a very uncharacteristic whine leave his mouth.

"you don't want to marry me," he pouted - just how many drinks had burnice given him, that lighter lorenz, infamous red scarf of the sons of calydon, was pouting?

"hey, i didn't say that," you comforted him, instinctively petting his hair in a way he seemed to enjoy. and it wasn't a lie - it was something you had dreamed about several times, but... "i just feel like you've skipped a few steps here, you know? we're just friends, lighter. and you really are very drunk."

he picked himself up from your shoulder to look at you again, but he was so close this time, the tip of his nose barely an inch from yours, his full bodyweight still leaning on you. for the first time, you really realised the position the two of you were in, and so publicly, the crowded bar not far away. but you couldn't quite get yourself to focus on them, not when there was so little space between you, and his stupid handsome face took up your entire field of view. the musky scent of his cologne cut through the smell of nitro-fuel and it made your thoughts brain spin even more, so you waited for him to say something. you doubted you could come up with any more coherent thoughts.

"what's step one?" he said eventually. you frowned, not sure what he meant. "what?" "you said I skipped steps. what's step one?" "to marrying me??" "yeah."

once again, you had to pause to process. was this his weird, misguided, honestly really cute, way of confessing to you? there was no way - but there was a sincerity in his gaze that went past alcohol. the best answer would probably be 'ask me on a date when you're sober', but he was too pretty to be considering best answers, and your mouth moved faster than your brain did.

"probably this," you muttered, then pulled him forward by the scarf, closing the distance between you. even drunk, his reaction time was instantaneous - you were the one to initiate the kiss, but his hands were around your waist so quickly it surprised you, pulling you somehow even closer into him. it was clumsy but full of heat, and you could feel his mouth form a victorious grin against yours.

when you eventually pulled away, though, your gaze was immediately drawn away from his to the rest of the sons of calydon, who were whooping and cheering from the bar.

"yes! i told you it'd go well, lighter!" caesar called, shooting you a wink. Lighter only responded to her with a thumbs up, his head returning to rest on your shoulder again.

"did you tell him to do that?" you yelled back, head still reeling from the kiss.

"so what? neither of you were gonna take the leap sober," she replied, and you realised she wasn't behind his words - not intentionally, anyway.

"he proposed to me!"

a round of shocked laughter from the gang, except for lucy;

"he WHAT?"

i truly had no idea how to end this. but like. i love lighter so so much but i especially love him being dorky and down bad. wc: 757

[stellamarielu]

we shouldn't

declan o'hara x female reader

summary: you probably shouldn't be stealing glances at your best friend's dad. but you DEFINITELY shouldn't be sitting on a kitchen table with him between your legs.

content: nsfw, 18+, smutty smut smut smut, age gap, best friend's dad just hits different i'm sorry

author's note: i saw a comment that said declan definitely talks you through it and i couldn't agree more. so here we are!

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

You sit stirring the cup of tea in front of you in an effort to keep your hands busy. You had found yourself in your best friend’s kitchen on a Saturday night only she wasn’t home. So instead of spending your evening with her, you were now having a cup of tea with her incredibly dreamy father. Although this was a scenario you had dreamt about, you hadn’t come over here expecting to see Declan.

You were here because Taggie had once marveled over the local produce available at the farmer’s market held in town so you grabbed some earlier that morning with the intention of dropping it at the Priory for her. You knew going into town was a bit of a drive for the O’hara’s and you lived a block away from the market, so it was an easy task for you. You showed up at her front door expecting to hand her a bag full of veggies and were instead met by her brutally handsome father.

You hadn’t lived in town long but from the second you and Taggie met there was an unspoken friendship solidified between the two of you. The bond was most likely due to the fact that you were both twenty-something year old girls in a town full of middle-aged married couples. Nonetheless you enjoyed each other’s company. She taught you how to bake blueberry muffins from scratch and you helped her take a step back from her responsibilities and let loose from time to time. It was a win-win. 

What Taggie didn’t know was that you and her father had been shamelessly flirting with each other for weeks. 

It started with stolen glances at Declan when he would walk around the house shirtless. His broad shoulders and hair covered chest had you in a trance, so much so that it took you a minute to notice when he caught you staring. Wearing a smug expression he threw you a quick wink before walking out of the room, his small chuckle echoed in the room in his absence and you knew you were fucked. 

Ever since that day the two of you shared many coy smirks, crude jokes and light brushes of the hands but nothing beyond that. You couldn’t deny how badly you wanted him. You knew it was wrong to think that way about your best friend’s dad. You knew it but you kept thinking about what he would be like in bed. God- you were such a bad friend. 

So now you were sitting in the kitchen of the Priory without Taggie. She had failed to mention that she had a job catering one of Valerie Jones’ parties tonight. Of course, when you realized she wasn’t home you offered to leave the groceries and head back home but Declan insisted on you staying for a cup of tea. You joined him in the kitchen watching his large hands fumble with mugs and tea bags and thinking about other places his rough hands would work well. Jesus you couldn’t even let the man perform a simple task without drooling over him. It would have been ridiculous if it weren’t for the way his lips turned up into a cheeky smile knowing you were watching his every move. The smug bastard knew the ways you thought about him and he relished in it.

“Taggie normally tells me when she has a gig.” You state still stirring your tea.

“This came up last minute” Declan stood at the kitchen counter sipping whiskey, he wasn’t much of a tea guy.

“Even I was surprised. She hasn’t been workin’ weekends as much since you’ve come into the picture” He finishes speaking taking another swig of his drink.

“You’ve somehow done the impossible task of getting’ that girl out of the house and enjoyin’ her life on Saturday nights. I’ll forever be grateful to you for that.” He raises his drink to you causing a small laugh to leave your lips.

“Yeah well, Taggie’s a good time. I don’t think you give her enough credit” You finally stop messing with the spoon in your hand and take a small sip of the tea in front of you.

“While that may be true, I think you help her come out of her shell. You’re just so-“ he stops and just stares at you for a moment like he’s trying to think of the word he wants to say. 

“lively.” He finally says.

you smile at the adjective. 

“And vibrant and captivating” He abruptly sets his glass on the countertop and begins slowly walking in your direction.

“You’re absolutely stunnin’, you know that?”

You feel your heart begin to race as he comes to stand in front of you. 

“I keep tryin’ to push away the way you make me feel.”

“But it’s impossible to ignore when I walk into a room and immediately feel your presence. So bright and mesmerizing.”

You feel frozen by his words. You’ve played out this exact moment in your head every single night but never imagined it would come to fruition. Now Declan is standing just inches away, the tension palpable.

“Not to mention you’re always fuckin' here.” He waves his hands gesturing to the massive home you’ve both found yourself alone in tonight. “Always around remindin’ me of what I can’t have” 

The words barely come out of his mouth before you’re on your feet slinging your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. His lips crash onto yours and he wastes no time savoring the taste of your lips. His kiss is hungry and methodical, and you think you might melt. 

He breaks away for a split second,

“We shouldn’t” he says breathless but then his lips are back on yours in an instant, showing no signs of stopping. 

“Declan. Please” You practically beg him to keep kissing you.

It must be the way you say his name because he throws any restraint he previously had out the window. Picking you up and sitting you on the kitchen table in one swift movement.

His hands find their way up your skirt lightly gripping your thighs, his fingertips drawing lazy circles on your skin just inches away from where you really wanted him to touch you. 

He leans in close whispering coarsely in your ear

“I’ve dreamt about this.” 

The attention of his lips shifts from a soft whisper to a gentle kiss right below your ear. 

“Me too” you admit.

Your voice is breathless as he continues placing kisses down your neck every now and again nipping and suckling at the sensitive skin just beneath your jaw. 

“Tell me love, what is it you think about?” He says sending sweet vibrations into the crook of your neck.

“Do you think about me touchin’ ya?”

He runs his hands roughly up and down your thighs pushing your skirt up so that it’s bunched at your hips.

“Do you think about how good I could make you feel hmm?”

The words coming out of his mouth have you all but dripping between your thighs. His hands find the hem of your underwear, playing with the material between his fingertips he tugs them down your legs at a painfully slow pace. 

He pulls away so his gaze is on yours. Your foreheads meet as his hands find their way back to your thighs, carefully spreading them open just a bit more. 

“I think about it constantly” 

He takes his time trailing his fingertips up your inner thighs, so gently that the featherlight touch makes you shiver. The corner of his mouth curls into a smile knowing the effect he has on you. 

You almost squeal when you feel his pointer finger circling your entrance. He keeps it there, taunting you with anticipation.

“How your cunt would feel wrapped around my fingers” 

He lets his digit sink inside you with the slightest pressure. The gentleness of his touch contradicting his dirty words. 

Your eyes fall shut and you let out a soft moan of relief. 

The sound of pleasure causes him to add another finger. He curls them in just the right way making you grab at his forearm and whimper his name. He keeps playing at the spot that elicited such a strong response from you causing you to squirm in pleasure. 

“God you feel s’good. Your pretty little cunt squeezin’ my fingers like that. Can’t imagine how you’d feel on my cock”

You bite back a groan at his words. If he kept talking to you like this, you might cum in record time. 

He picks up the pace of his fingers, moving them at a deliciously perfect rhythm. You squeeze your eyes shut focusing on the pressure building in your abdomen. 

“Look at me love, I wanna see ya.” His voice is low and rough.

You open your eyes and it takes everything in you not to come undone at the sight. His curls falling in his face, his jaw slack, and his eyes clouded with lust.

“That’s it, s’pretty for me” 

You’re putty in his hands at this point, sitting on his kitchen table, legs spread wide, One of his hands on the back of your neck holding you steady the other inside of you. 

As if the carefully arched thrusts of his fingers weren’t enough to push you over the edge, he begins gliding his thumb over your clit. The added sensation makes your body jolt and you fight to keep your eyes open.  

His movements work together like a perfectly timed symphony and you find yourself reeling closer to the edge of ecstasy. You moan Declan’s name again, an indulgent praise, and he groans in response. You’re so close, the tension in your body is looking for release causing your thighs to clench around Declan. 

The fullness of his fingers inside of you and the constant attention on the bundle of nerves between your legs has you seeing stars. But it’s the filthy words he speaks to you that finally finish the job.

“Atta girl.”

“You’re doing s’good”

“Let go for me”

With those words you feel the tightness in your core come undone and let out one final drawn out sound of pleasure. You’re clenching and dripping and heaving and Declan is just staring. Forehead still resting on yours, breathing heavy, he softly smiles and places a gentle kiss on your lips. 

It takes a few moments for you to regain some sort of composure and then you finally speak,

“We’re fucked”

“We are so so so fucked, I can’t believe how fucked we are.” You allow your internal dialogue to spill out. 

Declan just chuckles darkly. 

“Perhaps we are.” He toys with your skirt still gathered at your hips.

“But if we’re goin’ down we might as well have a little more fun.” Chuckling through his words he picks you up off the table so your legs are wrapped around him and begins carrying you upstairs.

“If you thought I was done with ya love, you are sorely mistaken”  

[tswkento]

a.n.: kento has a hard time getting it up.

“kento? is something wrong?”

“no, i– i just need to– give me a second, love.”

nanami didn’t know what else did he need to get hard.

there was a beautiful woman laying right under him, his woman, the love of his life, fire of his loins — you. that alone should be enough, but you were also wearing nothing, laying on your tummy with your legs crossed and your head turned to the side so you could watch him. your body was literally the most perfect thing he’s ever seen in his life, every part of it a sight for his sore eyes and every touch of it a soothing pressure he never wanted to not feel.

it’s also fucking sexy because it belonged to you; all pliant and needy, patiently waiting for him to fuck you stupid. and the thought of it always made him so hard it physically hurt to be in any kind of clothing, without your touch to accompany his aching cock, but right now he was as soft as he was at a work meeting and nanami had no idea what was wrong with him.

at first he didn’t even notice he wasn’t hard because his mind was so clouded, the familiar fog settling behind his gaze as he licked and sucked on your pussy lips, took his time thoroughly swirling his tongue over your clit and playing with your cute little hole. he was so focused on your pleasure, he always is, that he didn’t even think about any possibility of this thing happening.

he guessed that yeah, maybe he could’ve noticed the issue when he was pressing his mouth against yours, adamant on swallowing every wanton, languid moan your let out, enjoying the feeling of your tongue gliding against his while your eager hand stroked him over the thick fabric of his slacks. the weight of your soft hand always worked easily if it was meant to make him go crazy, so the thought of being anything other than hard didn’t even cross his mind.

about 10 seconds ago you had that sultry expression that always made him want to stuff you full, but now you looked more concerned than anything. and nanami kind of panicked.

he sat back on his knees, thighs spread as he stared down at his crotch, and his rapid breaths began to drop, mind fully catching up to the reality where he couldn’t get it up.

soon you appeared in his line of sight, knees directly touching his as your palms settled on the meat of his thighs. you ducked your head to find his gaze and blinked at him patiently while he loudly exhaled air through his nose, trying not to look at you. ashamed.

“nanami? are you alright? talk to me.”

kento gave you an unsure glance whilst desperately trying to keep his face blank.

“i can’t, ” he couldn’t even bring himself to say it out loud. “i’m not– well.”

your eyes travelled down where he was so stubborn on staring and you pulled back slightly, taken aback by the realisation. you brought a hand to your lips, teeth digging into your nails — an action nanami was too familiar with to not understand that you were getting nervous, the thoughts of not being enough invading your beautiful mind. thankfully, kento could actually get a grip and think about you for a moment as he quickly cupped your face to make you look at him.

“don’t even think about that.” nanami muttered, the sternness of his tone enough to pull your out of your head. “you are fucking amazing.”

“i can suck you off or– or maybe if i touch you more–”

nanami’s mind was crowded with thoughts of how precious you looked just now, stupidly thinking that there was an issue with you when the real problem lied within him. glossy eyes staring up at him, a desire to help burning in your irises as you tried to inch your hands closer to his crotch once again, a blind attempt to bring some fucking life into his member that decided to be inconveniently dead tonight.

it was in no way your fault and he needed you to know that, to understand that, because there is no way you’re going to be fine with that overthinking mind of yours, so nanami just quietly shushed you and gently removed your hands from himself, getting off the bed to take off his clothes. his underwear understandably stayed on.

he crawled back onto the bed, tugging you higher along with himself, and wrapped his arms around you after sensing your mood going down. you still kept a wary look on your face, ready to do anything to make him feel better and nanami really appreciated that, more than you could ever know.

“i’m sorry.” he said, voice barely audible in the silence of your shared bedroom, but his next words came out clearer. “for making you think that you’re not enough.”

you inhaled sharply before sliding out of his grip to move a little higher than him, gently bringing his head to rest on your chest as you pressed light kisses on his forehead.

after rolling over to situate you on your back whilst he was still comfortably settled on your torso, the sigh of relief that nanami let out was hard to conceal because he was right where he was meant to be: holding you impossibly close, with his body between your legs and his face on your pillowy chest.

and he wanted to forget what happened a few minutes ago like a fucking nightmare yet he couldn’t stop thinking about it. was there some kind of nerve damage? was there something wrong with his brain, did it not register anything that was going on? your lips on his pulse point, your teasing fingers on the tip of his cock, your whines and cries that were his favourite sounds in the whole world. there’s no way his brain didn’t catch onto any of that.

your fingers threaded through his soft tresses, lightly scratching his scalp as he involuntarily groaned, thoughts turning into mush in an instant.

“do you think we should schedule you an appointment at the clinic, kento?” you tilted his head up and he nodded, a little dumbly, before frowning and lifting his head up.

“do you think it’s necessary?”

“i wanna know that everything is okay in here,” you tapped your index finger against his temple before grinning shyly, “and down there too.”

nanami chuckled, pressing a kiss against your chin, “okay, my darling.”

and then you started talking about an article you read about erectile disfunction, impressing him with the amount of detailed information you managed to grasp from it despite the fact that it was very much useless for you. it turned into you scolding him because stress is one of the reasons and work stresses him out and “maybe you can finally take a lengthy break, ‘namii” and nanami thought that yes, he could in fact be civil and get a paper from the clinic that could make his boss get off his back for at least a week and spent that free time on making up for what he couldn’t do tonight.

[zevrra]

god sorry the brainrot is so real tonight bc i keep thinking about how jayce is a certified LOVER BOYYYY. he’s all physical touch and reassuring glances, always touching you in anyway he can when you’re next to him. brings you your favorite coffee or flowers when you least expect it; just because he can. speaks in the softest tone when you’re around and gives you everything and anything you ask for without a second thought. and even though he’s still a little clueless and nervous when you reciprocate his feelings, he still kisses you with his entire soul bc he just loves so deeply UGHHHHH

meanwhile viktor, while a little insecure about himself, loves just as deeply but far more quietly than jayce does. he’s the one who scoots your coffee cup closer to you in the mornings, just so you don’t have to reach so far for it. writes you little notes for you to find in your books and then acts like he doesn’t know how they got there. kisses you randomly on the forehead as he walks by and every time it leaves you giddy. he longingly stares at you across the room but when you ask what he’s looking at he’ll just make some excuse up and busy himself with something else. acts of service and quality time is his love language and he’d do anything for you RAAAAA

[fayesia]

Day 7 - Breeding

"The Realms Desire" - uncle!Daemon x niece!reader

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ׂ🦢 𓈒ೀ

ᯓᡣ𐭩 warnings - Targcest!, breeding kink obv, Aemondxreader mentioned, cunnilingus, p in v, dirty talk, nipple play?, brief slut shaming, spit play

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wc - 2.1k

The final family supper ended in uproar, as the children were sent to their respectful chambers, the remaining adults silently looked at one another. Letting out a sharp breath Alicent concluded the dinner.

"Well, I believe we should all take our rest, it has been quite an...eventful night."

Agreeing with her, the dining hall cleared out, and you took the long winding walk through the silent hallways back to your room. As you neared the corner to your apartments door, a hand reached out harshly, tugging you against their lean figure. Letting out a yelp, you panicked before realising it was Aemond, his eyes wide because of the loud noise you made.

"Aemond, what is the manner of this? You should be in your room"

"Please. I need you. Just one more time, one last time"

It wasn't a secret to the guards and maids who patrolled the halls and entered your room that Prince Aemond would spend some nights with you. The manner, however, was merely for comfort, and although clothes were sparsely worn, blasphemy never fully occurred. He would simply explore and imagine while you gently stroked the soft gleaming white hair the two of you shared.

"Not tonight, Aemond. Tensions have already risen thanks to your rash wording, I think it's best not to stir the pot anymore."

His grip, however, didn't loosen. Your reprimanding words and denial hurt the Prince, someone who was born with a golden spoon in their mouth. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but upon the sound of nearing footsteps, he stepped away and out of the shadows, sauntering off in the opposite direction.

You caught your breath as thoughts swirled in your mind. Pushing open the door, you turned to close it before a voice called out to you.

"Princess, wait"

Before you could reply, your uncles broad frame walked in, cornering you against the now shut door.

"What was Aemond doing here, with you, I recall the children being sent to bed"

Stunned at the confrontational question you took a while to reply.

"Yes...no..he was-Aemond was just..."

Your sentence faltered, unable to answer as your head hung low to not look Daemon in the eyes.

"Was he listing after you again? Is that it? Did he want to fuck you tonight. After all the discord he has caused."

"What? No. No, of course not, don't be ridiculous-"

"Ridiculous? Me asking about the man who enters your room to bed you every night is ridiculous?"

"He doesn't bed me."

"Of course he doesn't. Because he sees all of you and simply does nothing, is that it?"

His sarcastic tone did not go unoticed, angering you more as he spoke down to you as if you were still a mere child.

"Yes! Uncle he does nothing. Please believe me."

"How can I believe you, the evidence is rather contradictory of what my ears are hearing and my eyes see."

"Why should it bother you? You have your wife, my sister. My behaviours should be of no business to you. Whether I bed him or not is not a matter of your concern, uncle."

Stepping sidewards to evade his presence, Daemon moves quickly, slamming you against the door and knocking the breath from you.

"Do you like that he fucks you princess, to spend every night getting filled with his seed? Is that all you want to be. A whore for a disfigured man."

Casting your eyes from the floor to your uncles face, you see the rage he holds.

"Can barely call him a man, though can I. You don't even know what it's like to take the cock of a real man"

Leaning closer, his hands travelled from your shoulders to your waist.

"Do you want to know what it's like, princess?"

He hips rubbed against you, both strong arms from years of training and fighting pulled you closer, as you felt his hard bulge beneath his breaches. You let out a whimper, an internal battle being fought about his advances.

"We mustn't. We can not." Your cheeks flushed as heat coursed through your entire body. Your words were the opposite of your movements, chest to chest with your uncle, the thin material of your gown rubbed against your sensitive nipples. The sight of them pebbling added with the sensation had you growing wetter, shifting your thighs against each other in an effort to stop the reaction you had to Daemon.

An action not gone unoticed by him.

"We can though. No one has to know. I can teach you how a proper man fucks his whores."

Throwing all rash thoughts out the window you meekly nodded while your uncle steered you towards your bed. Laying you on your back Daemon climbed over, leaning down to connect lips in an unforgiving kiss, you grew dizzy at the sheer force while his tongue explored your mouth. His spit mixed with your own as his tongue traced across your lips before dragging down your chin to your neck, where kisses were places against your soft skin.

You lifted off the bed, soft moans released from your mouth, in hopes to be as close with Daemon as humanely possible. His hands lifted you upwards to him until you were comfortably straddling his lap. The expertise he had with woman coming to light as he was quick and swift to untie the laces of your dress as it fell from your shoulders. Leaving you in nothing but your smallclothes, which was already soaked in your own desire.

With an act of confidence you leaned forward to connect your lips to his once more, Daemon used this time to clumsily undress while trying to keep you pleased with his mouth. When you disconnected, your eyes wavered on the many battle scars that marred the Princes skin, from his neck to his back, you gently lifted a finger to trace the scarred flesh.

Daemon used this opportunity to explore you himself. His large hands encased your breasts that fit comfortably in his palms. Rubbing across your pebbled nipples, he smirked, squeezing the flesh, noticing the subtle rotation of your hips against his groin.

"Does my princess enjoy this?"

Unable to get the words out you just nodded.

"Is this what you and Aemond do?"

The tone in his voice was one of mock and jealousy, and you thought it best not to reply with your usual sarcastic tone. For this was not a moment you wanted to end because you simply couldn't hold your tongue.

Laying you back down, Daemon travelled down your body, licking your nipples as he took turns to evenly stimulate both with his tongue. The spit felt sticky and made your nipple harder once they were released from the Princes' warm mouth. His tongue continued its journey downwards, his mouth encasing your cunt over your damp smallclothes.

"Or is this what he does to you?"

Licking more stripes across the fabric, it soon grew transparent with the mixture of both his spit and your liquids. Shaking your head, you denied such actions every occurring.

"Shame. The boy is missing out. Never tasted a sweter cunt. That of a virtuous princess."

His strong hands ripped the smallclothes from your thighs as they were roughly tossed somewhere across your room. Inhaling sharply, you felt Daemons mouth back on your sensitive flesh, except this time there was nothing in between, his tongue flicking through your crevices. Your hands grabbed at his hair, pushing him closer to your centre while he worked ferociously in an effort to make you climax. Looking down at him, your eyes met his hooded ones, the purple of both your eyes were darkened by the lust shared for one another.

Holding your legs open, his grip on your thighs grew stronger as you came. His name flowed off your tongue like a prayer, and your moans could easily be heard by the guards standing outside in the hallway. Your hips bucked into his face as your body and mind fought a battle of whether to run from the pleasure or take more.

Daemon released your shaking thighs, climbing up your body with a smirk across his wet face covered with your release. His kissed you again, this time with the sole purpose of sharing the taste of your release between both of you. The idea was made obvious as he gathered his spit and spat in your own mouth.

The liquid made up of mostly your own release, the messy transaction dripped down your chin, but Daemon gathered it with his thumb, pushing it back into your mouth for you to swallow.

Sucking his thumb, you looked at Daemon with the sweetest eyes in the realm. For if your sister was the realms delight than in this moment, he concluded that you were truly the realms desire.

His cock was enough to prove that, it's much gossiped about size was bobbing against your thigh and becoming harder to ignore as precum dripped from it and marked your skin.

"Please, Daemon, I want you, need you to fill me"

"Is that what you want sweet niece, to be fucked like a whore, to feel your uncle fill you with his seed"

Nodding your head, you went limp as Daemon positioned you on all fours. A pillow under your stomach as he pushed you back into a deep arch, his mouth gently kissing down your spine. Entering you in one quick thrust you moaned into the sheets, immediately feeling stuffed with the thick girth of your uncles cock.

"Gods, you feel so good."

"The gods are not the one filling you, sweet thing. It is my name you should be calling out to."

Daemons thrust sped up as your unwavering moans spurred him on. His hands grabbed the flesh of your hips to guide your cunt up and down his cock as they travelled up to grab your breasts. His fingers squeezing your nipple as the flesh of his thighs loudly slapped against the flesh of your ass. Finally one of his hands moved to wrap around your neck while the other around your waist lifted you to lean against his chest.

The new position allowed his cock to enter you at a deeper angle than before. Your eyes could barely stay open as they rolled back in pure pleasure as your mouth fell open with no noise escaping.

"Do you enjoy this? Being fucked by your uncle. To know your uncles seed will soon fill you up so you can carry his babe."

Whining out you couldn't think hard enough to reply, his cock had fucked you dumb. Turning your head the look you gave him was enough to answer his question, his mouth released a puff of hot air against your neck as he laughed.

"To bad that boy will never fuck you like this, ruined you for anyone else haven't I sweet niece, no one else will fuck this cunt better than your dear uncle."

Absentmindedly, you nodded, almost letting out a yelp of shock when Daemons fingers reached down to rub at your bundle of nerves.

He makes you squirm as he drills his cock harder up into you, while circling his fingers faster, drawing you over the edge. Clawing his arm that's wrapped around your waist, your throughs of pleasure lead you to press deep cresent into his skin, hard enough to draw blood. Breathing heavily against your neck he fully sits you on top of his cock as his climax nears.

"Let me fill you niece. So you can grow my babe in you and mother my child, strengthen our family line, and grace our children with your beauty."

Dazed and exhausted from the best climax you had ever had, you stroked Daemons hair in almost the same way you do with Aemond. As wrong as it was, you found it amusing that the two men with so much tension between them had the same liking to certain treatments in bed.

"Please uncle..cum inside me...fill me with your seed, please Daemon.

The sound of his name whispered from your lips and the taboo of an uncle breeding his niece, pushed him to his breaking point, letting out a near animalistic groans as his cock pumped his cum into you. The warm liquid splashed against your walls and was sure to fill your womb with how deep he was inside you.

Gently kissing his forhead you stroked your uncles hair, letting him catch his breath. It was a mutually agreement to not move you off his cock, for the Princes seed must go to waste.

"So good...such a good girl for me."

His words brought a warm feeling of pride to spread inside your chest as you curled in his lap, drifting into a restful sleep as he rocked you in his arms like he did when you were young.

Kinktober Masterlist

[xoxochb]

hi how about wedding night sex with percy pls ?

UHM fuck yes!!!!

cw: tons of dialogue at the beginning, fingering, implied oral (m! receiving) at the end, not proof read

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“have I told you how beautiful you look yet?”

“I don’t think so.” lie. he told you twenty-one times only today. “why don’t you tell me now?”

percy laughs against your neck before pecking it delicately. his hand fiddles with the top of the zipper belonging to your wedding dress. “you look beautiful. gods, I want to eat you whole.”

“what’s stopping you?” you tease. though you can already presume what he’s going to say.

“this damn dress.” he manages to get a hold on the zipper, dragging it down urgently.

“eager—” your question is cut short by percy’s lips over your own, the action alone eliciting a moan from you.

when he pulls away he speaks, “that’s enough talking for tonight, hm?”

shit weak knees. you let him re-attach his lips with yours as he slips your dress down your body, much to his surprise you’re wearing—

fuck.

“white lingerie?” he nearly breathes out. “for me?”

you shrug mischievously. percy resumes his previous actions until your shed of the white dress, somewhere now on the floor for you to discover in the morning. eagerly, his fingers fiddle with waistband of your lace panties, swiftly dragging them down your legs, you finish this process, kicking the rest off the edge of the bed.

his fingers trail the length of your inner thighs, your breath growing ragged as he reaches closer to your middle, and a shiver at the coldness of his wedding ring against your skin.

“perce, please- can you—” your sentence is cut short by a guttural moan as that same finger trailing your bare skin plugs inside of you without warning.

percy pecks his lips over your clavicle, your neck, back down to your chest and stopped over lace fabric. he pouts at this. you feel his finger reach a deeper length, the metal ring hitting you occasionally, sending a bolt of electricity through you.

you’re not entirely sure where to place your hands at first thought. but you decide if they belong anywhere it would be the raven colored hair of your husband. the mere idea that he’s your husband makes a wide grin veil your face. though when said husband’s finger curls inside you, you can’t help the pleasurable cry that leaves your mouth. the smile doesn’t stray far regardless.

you arch yourself into him, slowly rocking your hips to try and gather more friction if that’s possible. his name exits your red lips more than you’d like, unfortunately, it’s the only thing you can think of at the moment.

“perce- fuck- I-” well for starters you can’t breathe. secondly, it happens that your husband is some sort of sex god.

just when the feeling is growing overstimulating, he inserts a second finger, having you pull harshly at his hair. in response, he only laughs. you feel like you’re going to die now. though you can’t help thinking you’d rather die like this than any other way.

your tummy pools with an inferno-like heat. quickly, your peak creeping upon you like a predator to it’s prey. though the only predator here is perseus jackson who finds joy in pleasuring you until you pass out cold.

when, soon enough, with a singular swipe of his thumb, your orgasm hits you like a freight train. though percy works you through the prolonging of it, whispering quiet sweet nothings into your ear. it only half helps.

slowly, his fingers slide out from inside of you, dripping in your arousal that percy licks them clean of. you don’t try to stop the moan that the simple action causes you to let out.

still breathless and disoriented, you crawl off the bed and drop to your knees at the edge, beckoning percy to sit in front of where you sit kneeling.

“my turn?

yes, indeed it was.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

“Trust, Love, and Protection”

Warnings-: unwanted advances unwanted touching!

protective and supportive toto with a hint of fluff otherwise this is angst and is based off a serious topic.

The bright lights of the Las Vegas Grand Prix were blinding as they illuminated the night sky. The buzz of excitement filled the air, a constant hum of engines roaring, the thrill of high-speed racing, and the glitter of Hollywood flashing in the distance. It was a weekend of glitz and glamour, and everyone was there — from international celebrities to famous athletes and high-powered figures in the racing world.

But for her, standing on the edge of it all with her husband, Toto Wolff, and their son, Jack, the overwhelming attention was starting to feel more suffocating than exciting.

While Toto had always been protective of her, there was something about the sheer number of admirers at the Las Vegas GP that made her uneasy.

The fact that her husband was such a high-profile figure in the Formula 1 world meant that all eyes were constantly on their family.

That, in itself, wouldn’t have been a problem, but the way some people particularly certain men looked at her made her skin crawl.

As the evening wore on, she found herself growing increasingly uncomfortable.

She was used to the occasional lingering glance, but tonight, it seemed as if every other person was trying to catch her eye.

She could feel the weight of their gazes, like fingers brushing her skin, and it made her want to shrink into herself.

She had been trying to keep it together, to put on a brave face for her husband, who was occupied with the team, the sponsors, and the whirlwind of the weekend.

She wanted to be supportive.

She wanted to enjoy the moment.

But it was hard when so many men were treating her like a trophy on display rather than a person.

Her discomfort reached its peak when an actor a D-list one at that approached her.

He was slurring slightly, clearly tipsy, with an overbearing grin on his face as he leaned too close.

“Hey, you’re Toto’s wife, right? You’re even more hot and slutty up close,” he said, his voice dripping with lust.

She forced a smile, trying to be polite, but his hand brushed against hers.

She instinctively pulled back, but he wasn’t having it.

He leaned in too close, his hand now resting on her waist in a way that felt far too intimate. She stiffened.

“I’ve seen you around,” he continued, oblivious to her growing unease.

Her stomach turned.

She opened her mouth to say something to tell him to back off but just as she did, the crowd around them shifted, and she couldn’t spot Toto anywhere.

“Don’t be shy, darling,” the actor continued, his eyes scanning her in a way that made her want to shrink into herself.

“You know, I always thought you were more beautiful in person. Maybe we should hang out sometime, just the two of us, I’ve got a big hotel room booked if you get what I’m saying”.

Her pulse quickened.

She felt trapped, helpless.

As the actor’s hand slid a little too low on her back, her body tensed with disgust.

She could feel her skin crawling, and all she wanted was for Toto to show up and pull her away from the situation.

“I’m sorry, I think I need to go check on Jack,” she said, her voice a little too tight.

The actor blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback, but he quickly raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright, no harm done.”

The discomfort was still there, the feeling of being objectified, of being looked at as something to be taken, not cherished.

She wished she could just disappear, wished that Toto could take her away from all of this.

She quickly found Jack, who was standing by the barriers, playing with his toy car, quietly observing everything.

He was unusually quiet, which was strange for the usually lively little boy.

He looked up at his mother, his innocent eyes full of concern.

“Mummy, you okay?” Jack looked up at her, sensing something was off.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” she lied, kneeling down beside him, forcing a smile she didn’t feel.

“Just a little tired.”

But Jack wasn’t convinced.

His sharp eyes were always able to tell when something was wrong.

After all he was his father’s son and always knew when something was up with his mother. As she stood up, he grabbed her hand, his little fingers curling around hers.

“You don’t look okay, Mommy,” he said softly, his voice full of concern.

“Are you sad? Did something happen you can trust me mummy I won’t tell I swear” his little voice spoke.

Y/N blinked rapidly, trying to fight back the wave of emotion that suddenly washed over her.

She forced herself to smile at him, but it felt hollow, like the weight of the world had pressed down on her chest.

Jack tilted his head, clearly not buying it.

“Mommy, why do you look like you are going to cry?” he asked, his tiny voice filled with confusion. “Did someone make you sad?”

Toto had been nearby, talking to a few sponsors, but as soon as he heard Jack’s voice and looked between his son and his wife, noticing the subtle shift in her demeanour.

His own heart tightened as Y/N’s smile wavered, the cracks showing through as the tears that had been threatening to fall finally spilled over.

He hurried over to them, his face a mask of concern.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked, his deep voice soft yet filled with urgency.

Before she could answer, Jack spoke up, his innocent words piercing through the air.

“That man, Mommy he made you cry. That actor.”

Toto’s expression darkened immediately.

He looked at her, hurt flashing in his eyes. “What actor?”

Her eyes widened.

She hadn’t meant for Jack to say anything. She’d hoped to shield Toto from what had happened.

“I—” she began, but her voice faltered.

Toto’s gaze never left her, his concern growing more intense. “What happened? Who was it?”

His protective instinct kicked in.

He hadn’t known she’d been dealing with uncomfortable advances all night, and the thought of someone making her feel this way especially in front of their son drove him to the edge of fury.

She looked away, trying to avoid his gaze, but he cupped her face gently, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Tell me, darling. I need to know.”

Jack was still holding her hand, now glancing up at his father, sensing the tension in the air.

“It was that actor… the one who kept touching her, Daddy,” Jack added, voice small but firm.

Toto’s jaw tightened. He turned back to his wife, his voice lower now, softer.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” “Don’t hide from me, darling,” he said softly. “Tell me what happened.”

“I didn’t want to cause a scene, Toto,” she whispered, her voice shaking as the emotions she’d been bottling up came to the surface.

“I didn’t want to start any drama. I just… I wanted to get away from him.”

Toto’s jaw tightened, his protective instincts roaring to life once again.

He gently kissed her forehead before looking down at their son.

“Jack, go with your aunt, okay? I need to talk to Mommy.” Jack, sensing the gravity of the situation, nodded quietly and ran off to join their family friend, not fully understanding but sensing his mother’s distress.

Toto didn’t waste a moment. He pulled Y/N close again, his arms enveloping her tightly as he held her against his chest.

Toto’s heart broke at the vulnerability in her voice.

His hand gently wiped away her tears, his thumb brushing over her cheek.

“Darling,” he said softly, “I trust you, I just don’t trust them. You’re my everything, and no one-no one —should make you feel this way.”

She gave him a small, sad smile, trying to hold back the tears.

Toto stepped forward, pulling her into his arms. “Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured against her hair, rubbing her back in slow, soothing motions.

But the tears didn’t stop. Y/N’s sobs were quiet but heavy, the kind that you couldn’t hold back anymore, no matter how hard you tried.

Y/N hiccupped through her tears, trying to compose herself, but the feeling of being violated, of being treated like an object, wouldn’t leave her.

Toto gently cupped her face, tilting her chin so she would look up at him.

“You don’t have to protect anyone but yourself, darling,” Toto said, his voice firm but gentle.

“I’ll make sure we leave this place as soon as you’re ready. You don’t have to be here if it doesn’t feel right.”

She let out a shuddering breath, the weight of the night lifting slightly as she melted into his embrace. Toto was her safe place. His love was her anchor.

“You know that jealousy doesn’t suit you,” she said, voice quiet. Toto chuckled softly, kissing the top of her head. “I like to see you smile more, not cry.”

Y/N sniffled, her heart swelling with love for the man who always knew exactly how to comfort her. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Toto let out a breath of frustration, but his expression softened.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Toto replied, his hand gently caressing her back. “I’ll always protect you, Y/N. Always.” “I’m sorry, darling. I should’ve been more attentive. I was too caught up in all of this… all these people… but I should’ve been with you. You should’ve never felt alone.”

He took a deep breath, his voice unwavering.

“I will make sure nothing like that ever happens again. Not on my watch.”

And as the lights of Las Vegas sparkled in the distance, Y/N realized that in Toto’s arms, she was safe.

The world could throw its distractions, its unwanted attention, and its people at her, but as long as she had him and their son by her side, nothing could take away her peace.

Jack tugged at his father’s hand.

“Daddy, Mommy’s really sad. Can we take her home?”

Toto nodded. “Yes, Jack. We’re going home. Right now.”

He pulled his wife close to him, wrapping his arms around her protectively, and he whispered into her ear, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner. But I’m here now, and I will always protect you. Always.”

With a final glance at the chaos of the event around them, Toto guided his family through the crowd, their son Jack happily holding his mother’s hand as they walked to their car.

Toto stayed close to her the entire way, his eyes scanning the surroundings, his hand never leaving hers.

He was determined that from this moment forward, she would never have to feel like that again.

As they climbed into the car, Toto turned to her, his voice soft and sincere. “I love you more than anything. Don’t ever feel like you have to hide things from me. I’m here for you, always.”

She smiled, feeling the weight of the night begin to lift. “I love you too.”

And for the first time that evening, she finally felt safe.

[banzonism]

WE FOUND LOVE (In a Hopeless Place)

one-shot story

pairing: ceo!jk x fashion model!reader

genre: romance, fluff, drama, comedy, slight enemies to lover, friends to lovers

synopsis: In a string of chance encounters, two people from wildly different worlds, find themselves inexplicably drawn to one another. Maybe the universe has been orchestrating something all along. In a swirl of laughter, longing, and love, they begin to wonder if they’ve finally found what they didn’t even know they were searching for. The beauty of emerging from brokenness, love blossoming in the least expected circumstances, proving that sometimes, even in the most hopeless places, love has a way of finding you.

words count: 8.6k

notes: this is my first one shot jjk ff ahhh i've been thinking about this plot for a while bc of that one jungkook pic above hehe anyway enjoy reading <3

Las Vegas.

Being a fashion model is a balancing act. It’s not just about walking runways or posing for editorial spreads. It’s late nights rehearsing a flawless walk, early mornings enduring hours of hair and makeup, and constant flights between fashion capitals. I’m not a household name like some models, I’ve made my mark. Campaigns for high-end brands, covers on major fashion magazines, and being a regular on exclusive runways have earned me recognition. My career is steady—not overwhelming but enough to keep me in rooms where champagne flows freely and the conversation sparkles.

Tonight was one of those nights.

I had been invited by Jung Hoseok, a longtime friend and one of the most talented designers I know, to celebrate his latest collection's success. The show had been a triumph, and I was one of the faces of his collection, walking the Vegas runway in his stunning designs. His exclusive afterparty was being held at a swanky bar—one of those places where entry was practically currency itself.

I smoothed the fabric of my dress, a slinky black piece by Versace, clinging to me in all the right places. Its thigh-high slit revealed just enough leg to make heads turn without screaming trying too hard. My hair fell effortlessly in soft waves, and my Louboutin heels clicked against the pavement as I arrived.

The air was electric when I walked in. Crystal chandeliers hung like jewels from the ceiling, the bar gleamed under dim lights, and the room buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses. Hoseok, in his signature vibrant suit, caught sight of me and immediately waved me over.

“Y/N!” he beamed, pulling me into a hug. “You look stunning as always.”

“Thank you! And congratulations, Hobi. The show was incredible,” I said earnestly. “Every single piece was a masterpiece. You’ve outdone yourself.”

His grin widened. “You’re too kind, but coming from you, it means the world.”

We settled into easy conversation, sipping on champagne as the night unfolded. Hoseok glowed with pride—not just from the success of his show, but also from something more personal. I raised an eyebrow when he let slip he’d been in a healthy relationship.

“Six months, huh?” I teased. “That’s practically married in fashion industry terms!”

He laughed, his grin wide. “I know, right? But she’s amazing. Keeps me grounded, calls me out when I’m being too extra—which is all the time, obviously.”

I smirked, leaning back in my chair. “That’s got to be the longest relationship you’ve ever had, right? Should we celebrate that too?”

Hoseok gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like I’d just wounded him. “Excuse me! I’ll have you know I’ve had plenty of long relationships!”

“Oh, really? Name one.” I raised an eyebrow, thoroughly enjoying his flustered expression.

“Well…” He paused, clearly scrambling. “There was… uh…”

“That’s what I thought.” I laughed, shaking my head. “It’s okay, Hobi. We’re all proud of you for finally breaking your three-month streak.”

“You’re impossible,” he grumbled, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “Maybe I should start giving you relationship advice now, since I’m apparently the expert.”

“Oh, please,” I snorted. “You’re one more text away from being whipped, and we both know it.”

“Fine, fine,” he conceded, holding his hands up. “When are you going to get yourself a man? I’m going to find you someone tonight.”

“Good luck with that,” I muttered, taking another sip of champagne.

“No, I’m serious!” Hoseok leaned in conspiratorially. “You’re gorgeous, successful, and you have taste. What’s the holdup?”

“It’s not that simple,” I replied, sipping my champagne.

“Then let’s make it simple. Tonight’s mission: find Y/N a man,” he declared, clapping his hands together.

“Absolutely not,” I said, laughing.

“Too late. It’s happening.”

He scanned the crowd dramatically, his finger wagging like a radar. “Alright, what about him?”

I followed his gaze to a tall guy nursing a whiskey at the bar. “Probably taken.”

Hoseok squinted. “How can you possibly tell?”

“Look at his hand,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

His eyes zeroed in, and then he groaned. “Oh a ring? Seriously? Why do the good ones always come pre-owned?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Because they’ve been snatched up by people who don’t need their friend matchmaking at parties.”

“Rude,” Hoseok shot back, feigning offense. “I’m doing God’s work here.”

“That guy in the navy suit?”

“Too old.”

“Alright, what about tall and brooding over there?”

“Not my type.”

Hoseok sighed theatrically. “You’re impossible.”

Before I could retort, a shift in the room’s energy caught my attention. The chatter quieted for a moment, heads turned, and the air thickened with a sense of presence. That’s when I saw him.

He stood at the entrance, effortlessly commanding attention in a tailored black suit that hugged his frame perfectly. His dark hair was slicked back, a single strand rebelliously falling onto his forehead. His sharp jawline and piercing gaze were enough to make anyone look twice—or three times.

“Wow,” Hoseok whispered beside me, fanning himself. “Now that’s a head-turner.”

I couldn’t disagree. The man was magnetic in a way few people were.

“Oh, you’re blushing,” Hoseok teased, nudging me.

“I am not!” I protested, though my cheeks betrayed me.

“You are. And you know what this means,” he said, grinning mischievously.

“What?”

“You’re going to talk to him.”

I laughed nervously. “Absolutely not.”

“Y/N, come on! Look at him. This is fate handing you a golden opportunity,” Hoseok insisted.

“I don’t even know him!”

“That’s the point. Go introduce yourself. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I hesitated, and Hoseok seized his chance. “I bet you can’t do it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re betting on this now?”

“Absolutely. If you don’t talk to him, I’m telling everyone here that you chickened out.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair, darling. Now, go,” he said, practically pushing me out of my seat.

I took a deep breath, heart pounding as I glanced at the man again. His gaze swept the room, sharp and assessing, before landing briefly on me. Our eyes met, and a spark of something unspoken passed between us.

Fine. I could do this. For the sake of my pride—and to shut Hoseok up—I adjusted my dress, squared my shoulders, and took a step forward.

The night was just beginning.

I took a deep breath as I made my way to him. He was seated near the bar, his profile sharp under the dim lighting, exuding an aura that screamed untouchable. His drink sat untouched on the counter, his focus distant, like he was counting down the seconds until he could leave.

Alright, Y/N, you’ve got this. Just be charming. Flirty. Casual. How hard can it be?

Clearing my throat softly, I slid onto the barstool beside him. “You know,” I started with a smirk, “it’s dangerous sitting here all alone. Someone might think you’re waiting for company.”

He slowly turned his head to look at me, his brow arching in what could only be described as mild annoyance. “Excuse me?”

I faltered but quickly recovered. “I mean, you’re sitting here like you own the place, but you don’t really strike me as the social butterfly type.”

His eyes narrowed. “And you don’t strike me as someone who knows how to mind their own business.”

My mouth opened and closed like a fish. “I—what? I was just trying to make conversation!”

“By assuming I’m some antisocial loner?” His tone was flat, but the words stung.

“That’s not—” I sputtered, now feeling defensive. “Okay, you know what? Never mind. Clearly, I misread the vibe. Enjoy your night, asshole.”

I turned on my heel, heart racing with a mix of embarrassment and fury as I stormed back to Hoseok.

“You’re back already?” he asked, smirking as he handed me a fresh glass of champagne. “What happened?”

“Oh, nothing,” I said sarcastically, collapsing onto the couch beside him. “Just got verbally smacked by the guy you insisted I talk to.”

Hoseok burst out laughing. “What did he say?”

“That I don’t know how to mind my own business!”

Hoseok clutched his stomach, tears forming in his eyes. “Oh, my God, Y/N, what did you say to him?”

“Nothing bad! I was just trying to be friendly. He’s the one with the stick up his—”

Before I could finish, I noticed the man leaving the bar. He walked toward the exit with the same quiet, commanding air he had when he entered. No goodbyes, no lingering. Just a clean getaway.

“Whatever,” I muttered. “He’s clearly not a fan of parties—or people.”

“Fair,” Hoseok said, still chuckling as two familiar faces joined us. Jihyo and Sana, fellow models and the unofficial queens of industry gossip, flopped onto the couch with the kind of grace only models could manage.

“What’s so funny?” Sana asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder as if she were still mid-photo shoot.

“Y/N just got spectacularly shut down by the Jeon Jungkook,” Hoseok declared, barely containing his laughter.

I turned to him sharply. “Wait, you know him?”

Jihyo’s jaw dropped, her eyes darting between Hoseok and me. “Hold on, that Jungkook? CEO of Resorts International?”

“Oh, that’s his name,” I muttered, sinking further into my seat. “Explains a lot. The guy’s got all the charm of a brick wall.”

“More like a brick wall covered in barbed wire,” Sana quipped, her brows raising dramatically. “I’ve heard he’s impossible to approach—unless you’re an accountant or a cocktail waitress.”

Sana chimed in, leaning forward like she was about to spill state secrets. “You’ve heard the rumors, right? Cold-hearted, doesn’t talk to anyone unless he has to, and supposedly—” she lowered her voice dramatically, “—he’s got a different girl in his bed every week.”

Jihyo nodded sagely. “I’ve heard the same. He’s all business, no warmth. Probably because he grew up as an only child with more money than he knew what to do with.”

Hoseok snorted. “To be fair, you did call him a loner to his face.”

“I didn’t call him a loner! I implied it,” I defended. “Big difference.”

The three of them burst into laughter, and I couldn’t help but join in despite my bruised ego.

“Well,” I sighed dramatically, raising my glass, “here’s to tonight. Not exactly my lucky night in the romance department.”

“Hey, it’s Vegas,” Hoseok said, clinking his glass against mine. “Plenty of fish in the sea. Just… maybe avoid the sharks next time.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I took a sip. If nothing else, at least I had good company to cushion my failed attempts at flirting.

Jeon Jungkook had lived his entire life under a spotlight, but it wasn’t the kind that most people would envy. As the only son of Jeon Hyunwoo, the founder of Resorts International, one of the world’s leading gaming and hospitality empires, Jungkook was groomed for success before he could even spell the word. He’d grown up surrounded by glitzy hotel openings, exclusive business meetings, and lavish galas where every handshake could seal a deal worth millions.

When his father announced his retirement three months ago, handing over the CEO reins to Jungkook, the world collectively held its breath. The media speculated endlessly: Would the golden boy live up to his father’s legacy? Was he ready for the challenge?

Jungkook had proven them all wrong. In just three months, he’d already started modernizing the company’s operations, implementing eco-friendly initiatives, and streamlining inefficiencies. But despite his achievements, his reputation among those outside the boardroom was less favorable.

“Cold-hearted.”

“Unapproachable.”

“Stone-faced heir.”

The whispers followed him everywhere, branding him as someone impossible to know, let alone love. In reality, Jungkook wasn’t cold—just guarded. Growing up without siblings or close confidants had shaped him into someone who found comfort in solitude. His reserved nature wasn’t a symptom of arrogance, but rather a quiet reflection of how overwhelming his life had become.

Beneath the sharp suits and calculated demeanor was a man who loved simple pleasures: sketching in his notebook, playing the piano, or indulging in late-night gaming sessions. But no one saw that side of him—not his colleagues, not the socialites clamoring for his attention, and certainly not the father who believed his son’s life wasn’t complete without a wife.

Jungkook’s friend Kim Taehyung, the eccentric owner of one of the hottest luxury fashion brands, had practically dragged him to this afterparty. Taehyung had a knack for throwing events that were equal parts exclusive and chaotic, and tonight was no exception.

“You need to loosen up,” Taehyung had said earlier, handing Jungkook a glass of champagne. “You’ve been running that empire of yours like a man possessed. It’s a party, not a shareholders’ meeting.”

“I’m not really in the mood, Tae,” Jungkook replied, scanning the room full of strangers.

“Of course, you’re not,” Taehyung said with a knowing smirk. “But you’re staying. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone interesting tonight.”

Jungkook sighed. Taehyung was relentless.

The truth was, he wasn’t just tired from work. His father had been on his case again earlier that day, pressing him to start dating.

“You’re the face of this company now, Jungkook. People look up to you. It’s time you settled down.”

“Dad, I’ve been CEO for three months. I’m focusing on stabilizing the company,” Jungkook had argued.

“Excuses. You’re hiding behind work because you’re afraid of commitment,” his father shot back.

The argument had left a sour taste in Jungkook’s mouth. Relationships weren’t on his radar right now. He wasn’t against the idea entirely, but the thought of being with someone when he could barely keep his own life in order felt irresponsible.

Jungkook slipped away from the main floor and into the restroom, taking a moment to breathe. The thrum of the party dulled behind the heavy door, and for a few minutes, he could pretend he wasn’t Jungkook Jeon, CEO of Resorts International.

He leaned against the counter, staring at his reflection. You don’t have to stay long. Just make an appearance, then leave. It’s fine.

When he returned to the party, Taehyung intercepted him immediately.

“Where were you hiding?” Taehyung teased, clinking his glass against Jungkook’s.

“Just needed a break,” Jungkook replied. “I was actually about to head out.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Taehyung’s grin widened mischievously. “You can’t leave without at least trying to have some fun. Find someone to talk to. Flirt, even. You’re single, man. Enjoy it!”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Guilty as charged. Now, promise me you’ll stay for at least thirty more minutes.”

“Fine. Thirty minutes,” Jungkook muttered, already regretting it.

He found himself at the bar, sipping whiskey and counting down the seconds until he could make his escape. That’s when you appeared.

“You know,” you said, sliding onto the stool beside him, “it’s dangerous sitting here all alone. Someone might think you’re waiting for company.”

Your tone was playful, your smile confident, but Jungkook could only muster a blank stare. Who starts a conversation like that?

“Excuse me?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

“I mean, you’re sitting here like you own the place, but you don’t really strike me as the social butterfly type,” you continued.

The comment rubbed him the wrong way—not because it was offensive, but because it hit too close to home.

“And you don’t strike me as someone who knows how to mind their own business,” he replied flatly.

Your expression faltered, but only for a moment. “I—what? I was just trying to make conversation!”

“By assuming I’m some antisocial loner?” he shot back.

You stood abruptly, cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. “You know what? Never mind. Enjoy your night, asshole.”

As you walked away, Jungkook felt a pang of guilt. He hadn’t meant to come off so harsh. He was just… out of his depth.

Deciding he’d had enough, Jungkook downed the rest of his whiskey and left the bar. As he walked through the crowd, he couldn’t help but glance back at you. You were sitting with a group of friends, laughing animatedly despite their earlier exchange.

For a brief moment, Jungkook wondered if he’d made a mistake. But then, the weight of his father’s words pressed down on him again. And yet, as he walked away, your voice lingered in his mind.

The warm, familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee hit me as I stepped into my favorite café, the one I always visit whenever I’m in Vegas. Normally, this place feels like a sanctuary—a calm start to my day with a comforting latte in hand. But not today. Today, the universe seemed to have woken up and decided to toy with me.

First, I received some ridiculous news about my upcoming campaign shoot being delayed, throwing my entire schedule into chaos. Then, in my rush to storm out of the hotel, I realized too late that I’d forgotten my purse. Great.

Still, I wasn’t about to let that stop me from grabbing my usual coffee. A caffeine fix was non-negotiable.

“Medium latte, please,” I said to the barista, already picturing the soothing warmth of the cup in my hands.

“That’ll be $5.50,” he replied.

I instinctively reached into my pocket, only to come up empty. My stomach dropped. “Uh…” I glanced up sheepishly. “Okay, so funny thing—I left my wallet at my hotel. But I’m a regular here. Can I just—”

“Sorry, ma’am,” the barista interrupted, his tone clipped. “We can’t process an order without payment. Policy.”

I blinked, thrown by his sharpness. “I’m not asking for free coffee. I’ll come back and pay, I swear. You can even ask the manager—I’m here all the time.”

“I really can’t do that,” he said, looking uncomfortable but firm. “We’ve had issues before with people trying to…”

I froze. “Are you accusing me of being a scammer?”

“No, no! That’s not what I meant,” he stammered, his face flushing. “It’s just…we have to be careful—”

“Careful about what?” My voice rose as irritation crept in. “About someone who forgot their wallet? I’m not exactly trying to rob you!”

The barista looked ready to melt into the floor when a low, calm voice broke through.

“I’ll pay for it.”

I turned to the source of the voice, and my breath caught.

Standing a few feet away was none other than him—Jungkook. The same Jungkook who had practically shut me down a week ago at Hoseok’s party. He looked just as composed and intimidating as before, dressed in a sleek black coat over a crisp white turtleneck, his hair perfectly tousled like he’d just stepped out of a photoshoot.

He slid a bill onto the counter without a second glance in my direction. “For her latte,” he said to the barista, who nodded nervously and rushed to complete the order.

I stood there, dumbfounded.

“Wait—what are you doing?” I finally managed to ask as Jungkook turned and headed for the door.

“Paying for your coffee,” he said over his shoulder, his voice casual, like it was no big deal.

“Why?” I demanded, hurrying after him.

He paused at the entrance, looking at me with an expression that was equal parts bored and amused. “Because you looked like you needed it.”

I blinked, caught between annoyance and gratitude. “You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t have to,” he replied simply.

I crossed my arms, planting myself in his path. “Okay, but why? What’s the catch? Last time we talked, you made it pretty clear you don’t exactly like strangers.”

He raised an eyebrow, and for a moment, I thought he was going to ignore me. Instead, he said, “And last time we talked, you called me a loner. So maybe I’m just returning the favor.”

I couldn’t help it—I laughed. “Wow, you really have a way with people, don’t you?”

He shrugged, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. “Look, if it bothers you that much, don’t think of it as charity. Think of it as me doing something nice.”

“Nicer than calling me pitiful,” I muttered under my breath, but he caught it.

His ears turned pink. “You looked like you were having a bad day,” he mumbled, suddenly avoiding my gaze.

For a moment, I just stared at him. There was something unexpectedly…endearing about how awkward he seemed. Like he wasn’t used to small talk or acts of kindness but was trying anyway.

“Well, I don’t like owing people,” I said finally. “So the next time we meet, I’ll treat you. Deal?”

Jungkook looked at me, his dark eyes unreadable. Then, to my surprise, the corners of his mouth lifted into a barely-there smile. “Sure. If we would meet again.”

He slipped out the door before I could respond, leaving me standing there with my coffee and a strange flutter in my chest.

As I took a sip of my latte, I couldn’t help but smile. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t the cold, untouchable man everyone made him out to be. Maybe…he was just a little awkward. And kind of sweet.

A rare break from my job was the perfect excuse to finally try something new—and for some reason, the idea of working out seemed appealing. Maybe it was the influencers I’d been scrolling past on Instagram with their perfectly toned abs, or maybe I just needed a distraction. Either way, I grabbed my phone and searched for gyms nearby.

After a few minutes of scrolling, I found a fancy spot that looked promising. The problem? I didn’t have a car. Public transportation in Vegas wasn’t exactly convenient, and walking there in this heat wasn’t an option either.

Then it hit me—I had the solution. I dialed my rich friend, Park Jimin.

Jimin picked up on the second ring, his voice as cheerful as ever. “Y/N! What’s up?”

“Hey, Jimin,” I said, getting straight to the point. “Can I borrow one of your cars? I found this gym I want to check out, but, you know…”

“Oh, absolutely,” he replied without missing a beat. “Which one? The Lamborghini, the Porsche, or—”

“Something normal, please,” I cut in, laughing. “I just need to get there, not cause a scene.”

“Normal? What does that even mean?” Jimin teased. “Alright, I’ll send one over. Consider it done.”

We chatted for a bit longer, mostly about his upcoming projects and his love for the Vegas nightlife, until the conversation took a surprising turn.

“By the way,” Jimin said casually, like he was talking about ordering coffee, “I’m throwing a yacht party this weekend for my birthday. You have to come.”

I blinked. “A yacht party? Like... on an actual yacht?”

“Yes, Y/N,” he said, laughing. “A boat, water, champagne, music—the whole deal. Don’t tell me you’re thinking of skipping it.”

“I mean... no,” I admitted, feeling a little overwhelmed. “It’s just... I don’t think that’s really my scene. You know I’m not exactly—”

“Not exactly what?” he pressed, his tone growing curious.

I hesitated, then sighed. “Well... out of your league?”

“Out of your league?” Jimin repeated, his voice turning sharp, almost offended. “Don’t be ridiculous. I invited you because you’re one of my closest friends. You and Hoseok.”

Ah, Hoseok—the reason I’d met Jimin in the first place. Back when I’d started in the fashion industry, Hoseok had introduced me to his best friend, and Jimin had been an instant ally: warm, funny, and, despite his wealth, incredibly down-to-earth.

“You’re sure I won’t be awkwardly out of place?” I asked, my voice quieter now.

Jimin snorted. “Awkward? You? This is coming from someone who had zero shame asking to borrow one of my cars five minutes ago.”

I burst out laughing. “Okay, you got me there.”

“Exactly,” he said, his tone softening now. “Listen, I only invited people I trust—people I actually like. You’ll have Hoseok there too. It’s going to be fun, I promise.”

And just like that, I could feel the tension melting away. “Alright,” I said, smiling. “Count me in. But if I trip and fall into the ocean, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

Jimin’s laughter rang out like a promise. “Deal. But I’m making you wear a life jacket just in case. The car should be pulling up any minute.”

As if on cue, I heard the unmistakable sound of a sleek engine pulling into the driveway. I peeked out the window and shook my head, smiling. Jimin’s idea of “normal” turned out to be a shiny black Tesla.

“Your chariot awaits,” Jimin said playfully before hanging up.

Grabbing my bag, I headed out the door and slid into the luxurious interior. I had to admit, the excitement was starting to build—not just for the workout but for the yacht party. Maybe this was exactly the kind of escape I needed. After all, life had a way of surprising me when I least expected it.

The gym was buzzing with energy as I powered through my workout routine. The rhythmic thud of weights dropping and faint music filled the air, and I was in the zone—completely focused. By the time I moved to cool down, my muscles felt like jelly, but the satisfying kind.

I reached for my water bottle and lowered the volume of my earbuds, the background hum of the gym suddenly sharper. That’s when I heard it—a loud, frustrated, “Shit, what the hell just happened?”

Intrigued, I glanced over. There he was: broad-shouldered, standing by a bench, holding a phone that looked like it had lost a fight with a sledgehammer.

It took me a second to process, but when I did, the recognition hit. “Oh, it’s you again!” I blurted out, my mouth moving faster than my brain.

He looked up, his expression a mix of disbelief and resignation. “Yeah, it’s me again,” he said flatly, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke by orchestrating our third meeting.

“What happened?” I asked, biting back a grin as I nodded toward the carnage in his hand. “I heard something break.”

He sighed, holding up the mangled device. “My phone. It fell while I was working out, and I didn’t see it. Then the dumbbell… well, the dumbbell saw it.”

That was all it took for me to lose it. I laughed, clutching my stomach as Jungkook’s expression shifted from annoyed to downright offended.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked sharply, narrowing his eyes.

“Sorry, sorry!” I managed to say between giggles. “But how do you not notice your phone on the floor? Were you that focused?”

“It was an accident!” he shot back, crossing his arms. “I wasn’t exactly planning to obliterate my phone today.”

“Alright, alright,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender, though the grin stayed firmly in place. “What’s your plan now? Or are you stuck in this gym forever?”

He looked at his watch. “I’ll figure it out. I can call my secretary through this,” he said, tapping the screen.

“Wait,” I interrupted, shaking my head. “I’ll help you out.”

Jungkook blinked, clearly taken aback. “You’ll what?”

“I’ll drive you,” I offered, shrugging like it was no big deal. “I still owe you one from the café incident, remember?”

For a moment, he looked skeptical. “You? Drive me?”

“Yes, me. I’m perfectly capable of driving, thank you very much,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. “Unless, of course, you’d rather sit here like a helpless damsel waiting for your secretary to swoop in and save you.”

Jungkook let out a reluctant sigh, finally we stepping toward the black Tesla.

“Nice ride,” he remarked casually. I snorted. If only he knew.

As I unlocked the doors, my eyes betrayed me for a moment, flickering toward him. He was the epitome of effortless cool—lean but undeniably sculpted, the kind of build that spoke of hours at the gym but never looked overdone. His plain black tank top clung to his shoulders, revealing toned arms and just a teasing glimpse of a tattoo curling around his bicep. The joggers he wore hung low on his hips, paired with sneakers that looked both practical and trendy. His hair was tousled in that perfect I woke up like this way, and the faint glint of a lip piercing added an edge that shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was.

“You know, if you’re going to stare, at least make it subtle,” his voice broke through my thoughts, his lips tugging into an amused smirk.

I blinked, heat creeping up my neck. “I wasn’t—” I started, but his raised eyebrow silenced me.

“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly enjoying himself. “So, do I pass your inspection?”

“Inspection?” I scoffed, regaining my composure. “Please. Don’t flatter yourself.”

He chuckled as he slid into the passenger seat, leaving me muttering under my breath as I got behind the wheel. Why did he have to be so infuriatingly smug and good-looking?

Desperate to change the subject, I asked, “Anyway, do you want breakfast? My treat.”

He blinked, clearly taken aback. “Breakfast? With you?”

“Relax,” I said with a laugh. “I’m not proposing or anything. It’s just food. You eat, don’t you?”

He hesitated, his expression a mix of skepticism and mild intrigue. Finally, he nodded. “Fine. But only because I don’t have a better option.”

By the time we pulled up to the restaurant, he still seemed wary, like he couldn’t quite figure out if I was serious or setting him up for something. But as we stepped inside, I noticed him sneaking a glance at me, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it would be.

The restaurant was warm and inviting, with a soft golden glow from the lights and a gentle hum of chatter in the background. Jungkook and I sat across from each other, separated by what felt like an ocean of awkward silence. I buried my nose in the menu, pretending to deliberate over my choices, but really just trying to distract myself from his presence, which seemed to take up way more space than it should.

Once the waiter took our orders, the quiet felt unbearable. I swirled the straw in my glass like it was the most fascinating thing in the world and finally broke the silence. “So… are you, like, the CEO of your company or something?”

He raised an eyebrow, a sly smirk forming on his lips. “Yeah, I am. Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” I said a little too quickly, feeling my cheeks heat. “Just making conversation.”

He let out a soft laugh, the kind that’s almost more of an exhale. “Not very subtle, are you?”

Before I could retort, he suddenly leaned forward, eyes narrowing at my phone case. “Wait a minute… is that Gojo?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah, why?”

He tilted his head, feigning deep thought. “You watch that anime?

“Do I not look like someone who would watch anime?”

“Well, you don’t exactly give off weeb vibes.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms. “Excuse me, I’m a proud fan of Gojo Satoru. Who wouldn’t be?”

His face lit up. “No way. Gojo’s my favorite too.”

“Of course, he’s everyone’s favorite,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “But don’t even start about his… you know…”

“Death?” he finished, wincing. “Yeah, that wrecked me. Don’t remind me.”

We spent a solid ten minutes geeking out over our shared love for the character, bouncing theories off each other like we’d known each other for years. It was so ridiculous, but for once, the awkward tension melted away.

“See?” I said, grinning. “I’m not that bad.”

He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “I never said you were bad. Just… unexpected.”

“Unexpected? Like when I tried to flirt with you that night?” I teased. “And you took it the wrong way?”

His eyes widened, caught off guard. For a moment, it felt like the air between us shifted, but before I could process it, he cleared his throat.

“Hey, about that night…” His tone softened, and his gaze dropped to the table. “I wanted to apologize. I wasn’t exactly… polite.”

I blinked. “Wait, you’re apologizing? Like, a real apology?”

He shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “Yeah, I was having a bad day.”

Curiosity got the better of me. “What kind of bad day makes you snap at random strangers?”

Jungkook hesitated, fidgeting with his fork.

Sensing his discomfort, I leaned back, trying to ease the tension. “You don’t have to answer. I mean, we’re not exactly close or anything.”

For a moment, I thought he might dodge the question, but then he sighed. “My dad’s been pressuring me to settle down. You know, get serious, date someone, think about marriage.”

That threw me for a loop. “Wait, what? You’re Jungkook—the Jungkook. Aren’t you supposed to be, like, the king of eligible bachelors or something? I mean… don’t you have a line of people falling at your feet?”

He laughed, a low, self-deprecating sound. “You’d think, huh? But the truth is, I do… mess around, sure, but nothing serious. It’s not exactly what my dad wants to hear.”

I stared at him, genuinely surprised. “So… you’re telling me all those rumors about you sleeping around are true?”

“Somewhat true,” he admitted, a small smile playing on his lips. “But they’re exaggerated. Not that it matters, though. My dad doesn’t care about the details—he just wants results.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. “Wow. And here I was thinking you were out there breaking hearts left and right. Turns out, you’re just another guy dealing with family drama.”

“Guess we all have our struggles,” he said, a bit ruefully.

I leaned back in my chair, letting out a small sigh. “You know, I get it. All my friends are pairing up, getting engaged, or having babies, and here I am... still single. Sometimes, it makes me wonder if there’s something wrong with me.”

Jungkook tilted his head, his expression softening in a way that made my heart skip just a little. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said, his voice steady and sincere. “You’re just waiting for the right person. Life isn’t a race, you know? Everyone’s clock is different.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his tone. “Wow, that’s... surprisingly profound coming from you.”

He smirked, raising an eyebrow. “I have layers, you know. Like an onion.”

I snorted. “Well, thanks, Shrek. But really, I appreciate it.”

“I think you’re doing just fine. No one has it all figured out—not even me.”

“Oh, trust me, that part was obvious,” I teased, earning a laugh from him.

I swirled my nearly-empty glass of water, feeling a bit more comfortable now.

“You know, Jungkook, I think we might’ve actually been friends if our first impressions of each other weren’t so... well, awful.”

He tilted his head, pretending to consider it. “Yeah, maybe. But then again, where’s the fun in starting off on good terms?”

“Touché,” I said, rolling my eyes, though I couldn’t help but smile.

I didn’t realize how much time had passed until the waiter cleared his throat, his third time checking in on us.

“Oh wow,” I said, glancing at the time. “We’ve been here for over an hour. That’s, uh, new.”

Jungkook looked just as surprised. “Guess we’re better at this talking thing than I thought.”

As we left the restaurant, the crisp morning air hit us, and Jungkook glanced at his watch. “My secretary’s on the way. Thanks for the ride and breakfast, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” I said, waving it off. “Consider it payback for the café incident, you know”

As his car pulled up, he paused and glanced back at me. “This was... nice. Surprisingly nice, actually.”

“Agreed,” I said with a grin. “You’re not as big of a jerk as I thought.”

“And you’re not as... well, annoying as I first assumed,” he shot back, his lips curling into a teasing smile.

“Oh, I’m absolutely annoying. Just not to you. Yet.”

He chuckled, opening the car door. “See you when I see you.”

“Or see you never,” I teased, crossing my arms.

He smirked before stepping inside. I watched as his car disappeared down the street, feeling an odd mix of amusement and curiosity swirling in my chest. Whatever this was, it wasn’t what I expected—but something told me it wouldn’t be the last time our paths crossed.

It was the weekend, and Jimin’s birthday had finally arrived. I’d spent all morning preparing, carefully selecting the perfect dress—a chic yet comfortable outfit that struck just the right balance between effortless and elegant. Jimin had assured me that one of his drivers would pick me up, so I didn’t have to worry about transportation. Classic Jimin, always taking care of everything.

The car pulled up to the dock where we were all supposed to gather before boarding the yacht. The venue was buzzing with an understated elegance—soft lights twinkling above, the gentle murmur of waves against the pier, and a cluster of well-dressed guests milling about. Among them, I spotted Hoseok chatting animatedly with his girlfriend. As always, Hoseok radiated charm, while his girlfriend was effortlessly stunning, perfectly complementing his energy.

I also noticed Taehyung, one of Jimin’s close friends. We weren’t exactly close, but we’d met a few times at events. With his striking features and magnetic aura, Taehyung always managed to make his presence known without even trying.

Before the yacht was set to leave, I decided to find Jimin to wish him a happy birthday. However, as I approached, I noticed him pacing near the edge of the dock, phone pressed to his ear, his expression a mix of frustration and exasperation. His voice carried easily over the sound of the water.

“Bro, where are you? You’re the only one not here!” Jimin said, his tone sharp but laced with concern. There was a pause, presumably while the person on the other end responded, and then Jimin huffed.

“I swear, I’m gonna tell your mom about this, and she’ll whoop your ass for bailing on my party,” he threatened, though there was an amused edge to his voice. “You’re such a workaholic. Dude, you need to relax for once in your life.”

With that, he ended the call, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair before noticing me standing nearby.

“Oh, hey! Happy birthday Jimin!” I greeted, I stepped closer to hug him. His frustration melted away into his signature warm smile.

“Just an old friend giving me little trouble, something like that,” he said with a sigh, before flashing a grin. “But enough about that. You look amazing. Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” I replied. “Now, you better enjoy your night—it’s your birthday, after all.”

“Working on it,” he said with a laugh before we parted ways.

I wandered back toward Hoseok and his girlfriend, joining their lively conversation about the upcoming festivities. Taehyung had drifted into the group, his dry wit adding a humorous edge to the chatter. The minutes passed quickly, and before we knew it, the yacht began to move. The gentle rocking of the boat, paired with the sparkling city lights fading into the distance, set the perfect tone for what promised to be an unforgettable night.

Jungkook leaned back in his office chair, running a hand through his already-messy hair. His desk was cluttered with files, reports, and his laptop—remnants of a day that seemed to stretch forever. He felt a pang of guilt knowing he’d be late to Jimin’s party. Jimin wasn’t just any friend; their bond went way back to childhood, forged through their parents’ business ties and countless summers spent together. Yet here he was, always caught up in work, unable to prioritize his personal life. His mother’s nagging voice echoed in his head: "You should spend more time with your friends. Life isn’t all about work, Jungkook."

The guilt doubled when Jimin called earlier, threatening to tattle to his mom if he didn’t show up. Jungkook could almost hear the smirk in Jimin’s voice. With a resigned sigh, Jungkook finally wrapped up his work and rummaged through his closet. He settled on a crisp white shirt, black slacks, and a sleek blazer that gave off an effortless yet polished vibe. After all, he couldn’t turn up to a yacht party looking like he just crawled out of a spreadsheet.

Thirty minutes later, Jungkook arrived at the dock just as the yacht began to drift away. The warm glow of lights from the boat reflected off the water, and the sound of laughter and music carried across the night air. He stepped on board, quickly spotting Jimin near the bar.

“Finally!” Jimin exclaimed, pulling Jungkook into a brief hug. “I was about to call your mom again.”

“Don’t start,” Jungkook replied, smirking. “Work ran late.”

Jimin rolled his eyes but grinned. “Well, you’re here now. That’s what matters. Come on, let's have fun.”

The two talked for a while, catching up on life and sharing stories. Despite Jimin’s attempts to nudge him toward mingling, Jungkook remained firmly rooted in the comfort of familiarity, sticking close to Jimin and occasionally chatting with Taehyung, another long-time friend.

Meanwhile, you found yourself in a different dilemma. After spending most of the evening with Hoseok and his girlfriend, the couple’s dynamic started to feel a bit suffocating. As much as you adored Hoseok, third-wheeling wasn’t exactly your idea of fun. Deciding you needed some air, you excused yourself and wandered toward the deck, the cool breeze a welcome escape from the noise and chatter.

The yacht had stopped, its anchor dropped in a calm, picturesque spot surrounded by glittering city lights on the horizon. The music from inside was still audible but muffled, creating an oddly serene atmosphere.

As you leaned against the railing, staring out at the water, you heard footsteps approaching. You turned your head slightly and froze. There he was—Jungkook. The man who had somehow become a recurring character in your life. His presence was almost magnetic, his sharp features softened by the moonlight. He caught sight of you and hesitated for a moment before walking closer.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, his voice low but carrying easily over the quiet.

You raised an eyebrow. “I could say the same about you. Late to the party?”

He let out a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, work. As usual.”

You nodded, not entirely surprised. “Let me guess—you’re one of Jimin’s childhood friends?”

“Guilty,” he admitted, leaning on the railing beside you. “And you? How do you know him?”

“Hoseok introduced us,” you replied. “He’s the reason I’m here tonight. Well, that and Jimin being very convincing.”

Jungkook smirked. “Sounds about right. Jimin’s good at getting what he wants.”

A comfortable silence settled between you for a moment, the distant hum of music blending with the gentle lapping of waves. The two of you weren’t exactly friends, but there was something strangely natural about standing there together.

Jungkook turned his head, his gaze meeting yours. “You’re not exactly blending into the crowd yourself. What are you doing out here?”

You hesitated, then smiled sheepishly. “Third-wheeling gets old fast. Thought I’d escape for a bit.”

“Fair enough,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Guess we’re both out of place here.”

The night air was cool and crisp as you and Jungkook leaned against the railings on the quieter side of the yacht. The party was still in full swing on the other side, music and laughter drifting faintly in the background, but here, it felt like you had the world to yourselves. The stars above shimmered in the dark sky, reflected perfectly in the calm water below.

“I just realized,” you said, breaking the peaceful silence, “this is the fourth time we’ve bumped into each other. Is the universe trying to tell us something?”

Jungkook glanced at you, one eyebrow raised in amusement. “Like what?”

You grinned, the words tumbling out before you could stop yourself. “That maybe I’m the girl you’ve been waiting for.”

His eyes widened slightly, clearly caught off guard. “Wow, you don’t hold back, do you?”

You shrugged, laughing softly. “Why should I? Life’s too short for games.” You hesitated for a moment, then confessed, “Besides, I’ve been thinking about you. A lot more than I probably should.”

Jungkook blinked, clearly trying to process what you’d just said. “You’re… straightforward.”

You smirked, playfully nudging his arm. “And you’re stating the obvious. Look, all I’m saying is, I don’t mind hanging out with you. You’re nice to be around.”

What you didn’t know was that Jungkook’s mind was a swirl of thoughts. He wasn’t going to admit it outright, but you’d been on his mind too. Something about you had stayed with him—the way you spoke your mind, the easy banter, and the way you didn’t seem fazed by who he was.

But before he could respond, you straightened up abruptly, suddenly aware of how vulnerable you’d just been. “Okay, wow, that was a lot. I’m blaming the alcohol I had earlier,” you muttered, your cheeks warm with embarrassment.

You took a step back, trying to shake off the awkwardness, but the slight sway of the yacht threw you off balance. Your foot slipped, and for a heart-stopping moment, you teetered on the edge.

“Whoa!” Jungkook reacted instantly, grabbing your arm and pulling you back just in time.

“Thanks,” you managed, breathless and slightly shaken. But before either of you could regain your footing, the yacht gave a sudden, unexpected lurch.

It all happened in slow motion. One moment, you were staring at Jungkook, his hand still gripping your arm; the next, both of you were tumbling over the railing. The cold water hit like a slap, stealing the breath from your lungs as you splashed into the dark ocean.

The cold, salty water surrounded you as you struggled to catch your breath, disoriented from the fall. But before panic could fully set in, you felt a strong, reassuring presence beside you. Jungkook's hand reached out, and his voice was calm but urgent.

"Are you okay?" His eyes searched yours, his face just inches from yours, his brows furrowed in concern.

You blinked, feeling a sudden rush of warmth in your chest despite the chill of the water. "I-uh, I am not really a good swimmer," you confessed, your voice shaky.

Jungkook didn't miss a beat. His hand gripped your arm, his touch firm but gentle. "It's okay. Just stay calm. Hold on to me," he instructed, his tone steady, like he had done this a hundred times before.

And for the first time, you were so close to him- closer than you ever thought possible. His face was so... beautiful. The rainwater trickled down his sharp jawline, the moonlight making his features look even more defined. His dark hair, now wet and tousled, framed his face perfectly.

You couldn't help but stare, the way his piercing glinted in the dim light making him look even more striking. How could someone look so perfect, so effortlessly attractive? With a body that was both strong and lean, and that face-it was hard to believe he was actually single. You couldn't stop yourself from admiring how impossibly hot he looked, even with water dripping from his face.

You found yourself almost mesmerized by his lips- those full, kissable lips. Your thoughts started to wander, and before you could stop yourself, you asked the question that had been swirling in your mind.

"Can I kiss you?"

There was a brief pause, a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he gave you a small, playful smile. But before you could process it, his lips were on yours. The kiss was gentle at first, testing the waters, so to speak. But then, something shifted. The chemistry that had been building between you two since the first moment you met exploded in an instant.

The kiss deepened, and neither of you hesitated. The sound of the waves lapping against the yacht, the cool water surrounding you, all faded into the background. All that mattered was the heat of his lips against yours, the way he pulled you closer, your bodies pressed together in the water.

And it wasn't just you who had been thinking about this. Jungkook had been wanting this, too. The way you'd smiled at him, the way you weren't afraid to speak your mind-it had kept him awake at night, wondering what it would be like to kiss you.

Now that you were here, tangled in the water, neither of you wanted to pull away. Time seemed to stand still as you kissed him, the connection between you both undeniable, magnetic. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt completely in sync.

It was messy, it was raw, but it was perfect. Just the two of you, lost in the moment.

Jungkook pulled back slightly, both of you still floating in the water. His eyes held a certain intensity, the kind of look that could make your heart race.

"You know," he began, his voice surprisingly soft despite the wild rush of emotions, "I've been thinking about you a lot too. More than I care to admit."

Your breath hitched in your throat, your heart fluttering. The confession was unexpected, yet somehow not. Maybe you’d both been feeling this pull, this magnetic force drawing you closer, even without saying it out loud.

"So, what now?" You smirked, the water now lapping against your skin as you held onto him. "I'm waiting."

He blinked, his brows furrowing slightly. "Waiting for what?" he asked, a playful glint dancing in his eyes.

"Duh," you laughed softly, your voice teasing. "Waiting for you to ask me out."

Jungkook’s laughter rang out, warm and rich, his smile growing wider. "Oh, right," he said, pausing for effect. "I guess that would be nice, wouldn’t it?"

You both chuckled, the sound echoing into the night air. It felt so natural, this banter, this undeniable chemistry between you.

“I can’t believe this. Of all the things that could happen…”

“You had to save me, and then we both fell into the ocean,” you finished, chuckling despite yourself.

“Well, if the universe really is giving us signs, it’s not being subtle,” he teased, his dark eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

“Yeah, no kidding,” you said, grinning.

Before the moment could stretch any further, you both heard a loud shout from above.

"Y/N! Jungkook! Are you two alright?!"

It was Jimin's voice, and it snapped you both back to reality. Jungkook rolled his eyes but chuckled under his breath. "Looks like we’ve got an audience," he muttered, before holding onto you tighter. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

As the yacht crew rushed to rescue you, the gravity of the moment settled in. You had no idea where this connection would lead, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like maybe—just maybe—you’d found something real.

end.

[holylulusworld]

His Bride (1)

Summary: Your life gets turned upside down.

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader; John Walker x fem!Reader (for now)

Warnings: nightmares, angst, awful boyfriend, daydreaming, vampire Bucky, mind-manipulation, nasty boyfriend, arguments, mentions of cheating

Catch up here: His Bride (Prologue)

His Bride Masterlist

Another sleepless night led to another day filled with workload. You yawn and rub your tired eyes. Tonight, it was not the mysterious shadow following you that kept you awake. It was the fact that John didn’t come home.

He ran late before, but never slept at his office. In the back of your mind, you know he’s hiding things from you. Maybe he’s even looking for someone new.

You don’t know, and honestly, you’re too tired to think about your indifferent boyfriend and his attitude. If you mess things up at your job, you’ll get fired, and that's the last thing you want.

Even though you’re working overtime most days, you love your job. You pretend that there’s no other reason than work for you to stay late. Not a certain someone with blue eyes.

“Working late again?” It’s like you magically summoned your boss by thinking of him. He stands next to your desk, furrowing his brows in worry. “You’re overworking yourself, Y/N. I need my employees healthy and well-rested. Don’t make me use my dominant voice and tell you to go home.”

His voice drops lower, and you can’t stop the whimper escaping your lips. Bucky cocks a brow at your reaction. He puts his hands on his hips and waits for your response.

“Mr. Barnes, I only wanted to finish that document,” you hastily say, as if you did something wrong. “I’ll be on my way in a minute.”

“No, you won’t. I know you well, Y/N,” he chuckles and places his hand flat on your desk. “How about this? I order dinner for us, and you join me at my office. We can take care of the papers tomorrow.”

You nod and turn to shut the laptop off. Bucky is gone without making a noise again. You’re always amazed how he can move so fast you don’t hear him come or leave.

“Y/N, are you coming?” He calls for you. You get lost in your daydreams again and need to focus on his voice before your mind drifts away again.

“Just a minute, Mr. Barnes,” you say, and slowly get up from your seat. “Do you want me to order the food?”

“I already did,” he casually says. Bucky holds the door for you open, subtly sniffing at your hair when you walk past him. You don’t recognize his eyes turning red for a second. “I called your favorite Italian restaurant. They’ll be here to deliver our food.”

Bucky places his hand on the small of your back to guide you toward the couch at his office. His hand barely touches you, but the simplest brush of his fingertips sets your skin on fire. He offers you to sit on the comfortable couch with him, saying your name in a way that makes you weak in the knees.

“You know about my favorite restaurant?” You wonder aloud, struggling to bare your feelings in front of your boss. “How do you know?” John can’t remember your favorite dish, and your boss knows your favorite restaurant.

“You talked to Coleen some months ago. I think the restaurant just opened when you told her about it. You were excited to have dinner there with your boyfriend.”

Your features sadden at that memory. Bucky is right. You were excited and over the moon when you got a reservation at the restaurant for you and John. You bought a new dress and dolled up for John, only for him to not show.

He forgot about your date night and the reservation. John never apologized that you sat at the restaurant and had to eat alone. Later you walked home while rain mercilessly poured down on you.

Cliché, right? Sometimes you feel like you ended up in an awful movie. Sadly, it’s not the romantic kind of rom-com. Rather, a twisted version of a romantic dream.

“Why the sad face?” Bucky asks, his voice warm and soothing. “I thought you liked their food. I can order whatever you want, păpușă (doll). Just name it.”

“I like their food,” you murmur, afraid to speak louder and give away the sadness in your voice. “John didn’t make it for dinner. I ate alone but enjoyed their food very much.”

“Păpuşă (doll),” he whispers lowly, and you feel your mind slip away once again. You hush his name, and he cups the back of your neck. “If you were mine, I’d never leave you alone or hurt you. He doesn’t know what he has in you, Y/N.”

“He doesn’t know what he has,” you repeat Bucky’s words like in a trance. You sigh, and your body goes lax. Bucky is fast to catch you and bring you in his arms. He pats your hair and whispers your name, something you wouldn’t understand in Romanian.

“Bucky,” you babble mindlessly. The shadow is back. It’s dragging you deeper into the abyss, and you lose control over your mind and body.

“Soon, my love. We only need to get rid of your unfaithful fiancé. I’d love to rip his head off his neck, but I’m a gentleman and wouldn’t want to bring grief over you.”

“I must stay; you have excellent taste, Y/N.” You blink at Bucky as he lifts a fork to his lips. He barely touches the food, but that’s not what bothers you.

Everything feels like a blur since you stepped into Bucky’s office. You remember sitting on the couch and getting sad over the missed date night. After that, nothing.

Your mind is blank. Now you sit here, a plate filled with pasta in front of you, and you don’t remember a thing. “You should try it. I know you felt a little dizzy, but you need food, Y/N.”

“Food… right.” You grab the fork next to your plate to take a bite. The taste makes you moan loudly. It’s the best pasta you ever ate. Maybe even the best food you had in your life. “Wow, this is even better than I remember.”

“Maybe it’s the charming company,” Bucky says. You chuckle, but your cheeks heat up. Maybe it is his company. Around him, everything seems to be so easy. “You don’t have to say a thing. I was trying to be funny.”

“I know,” you hastily reply, unsure if he was joking. You glance at Bucky and lick your lips. He barely touched his food but watched you enjoy it. “Uh—not that you’re not charming!” You stammer, realizing your mistake. “You are but—uh…”

“Y/N,” he places his hand on your shoulder and tells you to breathe. “Relax. You don’t have to tell me what I want to hear. I’m not that kind of man.”

Watching him with curiosity, you wonder if your boss has secrets he tries to hide too. You are a master at hiding your sadness or how you feel around your boss. He can never know you’d commit any sin to be with him…

After dinner with your boss, you decided to not wait for John to come home tonight. You’re still tired and don’t want to waste more time waiting for your fiancé.

Snuggled into your pillow, you close your eyes and recall dinner with Bucky. You remember his eyes, focused on you, and his full plate when you left. He probably wasn’t hungry tonight.

“Soon, my love,” Bucky murmurs while gently stroking your hair. “He’ll lose you to a better man. A man who knows how to treat you right. You don’t have to wait much longer.”

He kisses your neck. Bucky fights his instinct. He tries to keep himself from tasting you in more than one way. “I must leave now. Sunrise is close, and I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

Bucky slips out of your window like a shadow fleeing the sun. He’ll return tomorrow night and every other night to keep you safe…

Tags in reblog.

[etclouie]

is it possible to get mattheo and theo for your celebration event? if so would it be possible for the smut prompts 5-8 from 150 please? i hope you have a great day regardless 🩷

˚୨୧⋆｡ prompt/s; 5) "on your knees" 6) "enjoying the view?" 7) "that was the prettiest sound i've ever heard" 8) "i didn't think you were into that" — from 150 prompts

˚୨୧⋆｡ warnings; three some, theo is kinda a cuck for a little, mean dom!mattheo and soft dom!theo, p in v (theo), pullout method used, oral (mattheo receiving), possible ooc mattheo and theo, that’s it i think?

˚୨୧⋆｡ a/n; not my fave piece i’ve ever wrote

— celebrate 600 with me?

you were best friends with both Mattheo and Theo, the three of you always together and as some people might say— always causing something together. 

that’s just how it had always been between the three of you since you met, and then became friends. 

so you’re not exactly sure when both boys started to pursue you, but they started to clash over it. with the way you reciprocated each of their feelings, it caused a slight rift in your friendship with them. 

the rift was tearing you all apart, which you wanted to fix as soon as you could. 

you’d invited both of them to your dorm, and kicked out your roommates for the night. you’d even lit a couple of candles, which Mattheo inevitably laughed at. 

the knock on your door signified that Theo arrived first, he always knocked before pushing open your door. Mattheo on the other hand always just barged in, despite your many attempts to get him to knock. 

Mattheo lay sprawled across your bed, his arms crossed behind his head while he watched you. 

“what’s up?”

again. you’re not entirely sure where his “what’s up?” transpired into the three of you naked in your dorm together— but you weren’t entirely complaining. 

with your past flings with both of them, you could really point out the differences between them. Theo was softer and more caring with you, while Mattheo was rough and more focused on getting you to cum over and over again. which again, you didn’t mind. you liked the difference between them, and the way they were both working together to take care of you tonight. 

being pulled from your thoughts by Mattheo’s voice, against your ear. 

“on your knees”

glancing to Theo who nodded, before Mattheo helped you down onto your knees. Mattheo was sat on your bed while Theo watched the whole scene unfold, he watched as Mattheo held your mouth open as he brought the head of his cock to your lips. 

your eyes held Mattheo’s as your tongue swirled around the head of his cock, a satisfied smirk across his face as you took him into your mouth. 

your mouth warm and welcoming around him, bobbing your head and listening to the groans toppling from his lips. 

in the back of your mind, you felt bad for Theo— having to watch the sight in front of him instead of participating. but the shaky groans next to you, and then Mattheo’s teasing words let you know he wasn’t that far out of pleasure. 

"enjoying the view?"

you pulled off of Mattheo’s cock, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip and replacing your mouth with your hand. stroking him slowly while glancing over to Theo, his hand moving along his cock at the sight of you on your knees. 

you watched him, his hand stilling as he noticed you both watching. keeping your voice soft as you spoke up to Mattheo. 

“let him join Matty, whole reason i invited both of you”

he was about to protest, wanting to keep you to himself for a little but the look in your eyes and the way you called him Matty had his resolve crumbling. 

reluctantly, he moved to sit against the headboard of your bed. Theo helped you up onto your feet, his hands soft against your hips as you leaned in to press a kiss to his jaw. 

you seen as Theo’s eyes flicked to Mattheo’s before landing on your face again, his hands soothing across your hips as he gently pushed you towards the bed. 

climbing closer to Mattheo and settling on your hands and knees, you felt Theo climb onto the bed behind you and grasp your hips again. 

instinctively, you arched your back. your head against one of Mattheo’s thighs while Theo positioned himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into your warmth as you took Mattheo’s cock back into your mouth. 

moaning around him as Theo pushed into you, his pace steady as his cock filled you. Mattheo’s hips rocked up into you and pulling a muffled gasp from you, one of your hands on the bed next to his hip as you slowly started to bob your head again. 

“that’s it, doing so good for us love”

Theo groaned from behind you, his pace having picked up the and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the otherwise quiet room— apart from Mattheo’s groans. 

he watched through hooded eyes, his left hand on the back of your head to guide you along his length. the taste of him consumed your senses, eager to make him finish in your mouth. 

hollowing your cheeks as you sped up your pace ever so slightly, causing his hips to rock up into you and the tip of him hitting the back of your throat. at the same time, Theo set a bruising pace— pulling moan after moan from you, and Mattheo’s cock throbbing in your mouth at the feeling. 

the feeling of Mattheo was heavy in your mouth, and the taste of him became stronger the closer he got to his release. 

he felt heat rising to his cheeks, a heady mix of his arousal and a hint of embarrassment of how close he was to toppling over the edge. 

he tried to hold off as best he could, shaky and stuttered praises leaving him in the process. 

“fuck baby, doing so good”

he kept trying to hold off, but the way your mouth felt around him and steady flicker of your eyes opening to meet his had him spilling down your throat quicker than he’d expected. 

pink tinted his cheeks as his chest heaved, his head lulled back as you pulled off of his cock as you swallowed down his release— which gave Theo the chance to finally get you to moan loudly now. 

his pace picked up, which sent you toppling against Mattheo. you buried your head against his stomach as Theo continued to thrust into you, his pace had the pool of warmth bubbling over in your belly and your walls fluttering around him. 

“christ—“

he grit out, his pace stuttering as he grew closer to his climax. his hair toppled in his face as he continued, the squeeze of your walls around him was pushing him closer and closer to the edge until you were both teetering on the edge. 

Mattheo had took on a softer roll now, soothing his hand across your back and leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. 

with one last thrust from Theo you were toppling over the edge as the coil in your belly snapped, a lewd moan fell from your lips as your climax hit. your cunt spasming around Theo before you fell limp below him, a dopey smile across your face as the bliss of the moment hit. 

"that was the prettiest sound i've ever heard"

Mattheo praised, his hands leaving your back to rest on the back of your head. your mind had gone hazy, and you barely registered the moment Theo had pulled out until he was spilling his release onto your lower back. 

“shit— took it so well”

he groaned, leaning in closer to press a kiss to your shoulder. both boys met eyes in that moment and shared a look of something akin to surprise that they’d gone through with that. 

after a minute, Theo climbed out of bed to go and grab a towel to clean you while Mattheo continued to hold you. 

he waited until Theo was out of earshot to whisper out to you. 

"i didn't think you were into that"

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